I remember when the move to Scotland was first in the works, Christmas plans came up very early on. I think it was in the aftermath of last year’s Christmas. One of the big things about Christmas for me was spending a bit of time with my Mom. That combine with wanting to take some pressure off of her in hosting led to an invite to visit for Christmas. I was even able to fly her over as my gift.

Having her here has certainly added to the feel of it being Christmas. I’m sure Trouble and I could have managed something enjoyable but this has more of the traditional feel of Christmas for all that I’m in a foreign country. Even the bit where I’m going to church to make my Mom happy.

After Christmas I fly back to Edmonton on the heels of my Mom’s departure. By New Year’s eve or there abouts I’ll be catching up with friends. It really isn’t very different than other years. Everyone goes their own way to be with their own families for Christmas and then reconnects by the New Year. I’ll be able to end off the Holiday season in very much the same fashion as I would any other year.

I know that next year is going to be very different. The trans-atlantic voyages for the holidays are not something that I can really pull off on a yearly basis. This year, as my first overseas is sort of a transition. I’ve been able to take in the lack of snow, the difference in holiday foods as well as the different sights and smells. Next year will be the adjustment of not having family and old friends around to share the season with.

A big part of the lack of time was in the people I wanted to say good bye to. I managed to see many of the friends and family who I really felt a need to see before I left. Unfortunately of those who didn’t live in Edmonton I only got to see about half. I wish I had more time to get out to see the rest of my loved ones, especially as all too many are getting on in years. I have a deep fear of not seeing them before a death occurs.

If I had to do things over again I would have done a much more precise approach to getting my final household mail and bills sorted out. Having them sent to a forwarding point in the province and then sent to me has been awkward to say the least. I’m not quite sure how I would have done it but having something more efficient in place would have been much less stressful.

I look back on getting ready and it seems like I was so rushed. I know that I would have frittered away extra time if I’d had it but it would have been nice not to be so rushed. The fact that I was still getting my things together in the hours before my flight is a powerful reminder that giving myself more time would have been helpful.

Christmas shopping that isn’t all indoors at a mall seems strange and kind of nice. Christmas shopping in the rain seems just plain wrong. Its not that I’m fond of the snow but trying to protect against soggy packages is very strange to me.

I think the first warning I had that it was going to be a very different Christmas season was seeing the signs in the small food sellers. The very presence of small produce stores, butchers and fishmongers is strange to me. Seeing the signs that there were only X weeks to order a turkey or goose was very odd.

The arrival of the carnival really introduced the season to me while being entirely new. The thought of a Ferris wheel and other rides in late November and December strikes me as ludicrous. I can see it now in my mind. The Ferris wheel mechanism freezes up and by the time people can be unloaded their so many icicles. The less said about a roller coaster the better.

The German Market that is attached to the festival really brought home that Christmas would be soon. Again, the idea of such a thing in Edmonton just doesn’t work. It was a lot of fun puttering through the stalls, buying gifts and the occasional food treat for myself. Some of the wares are quite pretty and others amusing.

In all I’m glad I’m spending Christmas here. It may just be the novelty but there seems to be more excitement in the air than I’ve felt from Edmonton in a long while. Christmas lost its splendour a long time ago for me. For the first time in many years I feel a certain childish excitement that Christmas is on the way.

I am frequently surprised at how little homesickness has affected me. I really expected before I left to spend several day stretches being debilitated by it. The reality has been that bouts of homesickness have been few and rarely lasted a full day.

I think that a lot of the reason for this is how very ready I was to leave Edmonton. Before I left Edmonton I would have said that I was ok with the status quo for the most part but I have never been one who liked the idea of settling for ok. I have a bad habit of being very negative about change but at heart I dislike mediocrity. I begin to wonder in retrospect if I was more unhappy than I thought. I know that certain things that had at one stage in my life had been a joy had become a great deal of stress.

When it comes right down to it I don’t think I can claim to miss Edmonton. When I get homesick it isn’t for the city or my house or even restaurants and the like. I find that there are people who I miss. The list isn’t as large as I would have thought and two of the people in question weren’t living in Edmonton when I left.

I find that homesickness and loneliness go hand in hand for me. The times when homesickness strikes are invariably when I am feeling most isolated. Usually this is tied closely to having too much time on my hands. If I’m too busy to think about it then I probably won’t notice being homesick.

The solution then is pretty easy for me. It comes down to getting myself out of the flat, doing something useful or fun and preferably associating with people. Right now I have to make a real effort some times as I don’t have a natural program of school or work to do this. Come January, University starts and that will be a major improvement. In the mean while I role play, I see the sights of the city an beyond and continue to toy with the idea of a martial arts course or something similar.

I sometimes wonder what it will be like in another four or so months. It occurs to me that with more time those people and even some other aspects of Edmonton may be missed more strongly. On the other hand its very possible that with more time I may be even more at home where I am. I certainly hope its the latter as I truly love this city.

As a Canadian I’ve been exposed to a dish called to poutine for much of my life. Pouting involves to foods that I very much enjoy, french fries and cheese with one that makes me shudder, gravy. In scotland they would look at you strangely if you asked for such a dish. Instead they serve Chips and Cheese, the parts I want without the scary gravy stuff.

My great joy since moving here though, has been the prevalence of East Indian food. Since discovering the New Asian Village in Edmonton I have been moderately addicted to the stuff. Finding that there are countless Indian restaurants to choose from here, most of which deliver has been a frequent delight. The prices and quality varies as one would expect but some of the delivery is remarkably good and very reasonable.

The fact that I can chose to order delivery that will feed two people for about three days and be exceedingly tasty for under £20 makes me a happy man. The fact that I can also walk to two other restaurants for very good food is wonderful. One has fun ambience and a wooden camel that is life size if not larger. The other is less than 2 blocks away. The food is amazing. The service leaves something to be desired though. Still, options and good food....yum.

I never new my Paternal Grandfather as he died before I was born. From all accounts though his reaction to the war was very much in keeping with his personality. During the war my grandparents had a terraced garden that was hidden from the road and neighbours. It was intended to grow vegetables for the residents. My grandfather grew tobacco. This was an illegal act that could easily have destroyed his family if he and my grandmother were caught. They weren’t. The money supported their families during the war and brought my Grandparents and their two young sons to Canada first class. My Grandfather Monsma tricked the Nazi occupation at great risk and one. He was a scoundrel, not a soldier.

My other Grandfather served with the Royal Canadian Air Force from about the start of the war until mandatory retirement. He speaks little of his service, even after the war. What i do know is that he chose to go overseas well after the war was underway. He knew what was at stake and still chose to take that risk. When asked about the war he claims that he wasn’t a hero and refuses to discuss the issue. To my mind he is a hero. He knowingly put his life on the line for something he believed in. I may not get along with him but I admire what he did. On Remembrance Day I can’t help but reflect on what he did.

I remember too the countless people who didn’t come home from the war.

It probably would have stayed as just talk if it hadn’t been for certain factors all coming together at the same time. The year before two of my closest friends moved out of province for career reasons. I can’t fault them in the least but it left a hole in my world. At the same time I was watching my good friend Trouble going through her own journey towards leaving the country again. The idea of Edmonton without three of my closest friends changed how I viewed the city.

I have often held that there are three things that I deeply want from my life. I hope for good friends, a life mate and a vocation. Most of my closest friends were in the process of scattering and I had to face the realisation that those who weren’t already on that path were likely to, especially the ones who, like me, were not focussed on fledgling families. I started to realise that I needed to seriously focus on other parts of my life.

My home university requires me to take a certain number of electives that can be done at any institute that isn’t St. Stephen’s. I have never been a fan of the University of Alberta and because of a mistake on my part the red tape to finish off my electives there would have been painful. I decided to do a test run of sorts and take a semester out of province.

That semester proved a lot of things to me. It proved that I could live without my support network even though there were problems. It also proved to me that Edmonton was no longer where I wanted to be. I learned a lot in being away and in coming back. It clarified a great deal in my mind about who my friends were. Some relationships picked up as strong or stronger than when I left and others didn’t. It also showed me that I couldn’t afford to leave my house with tenants.

Seeing Edmonton no longer as home and having gained some confidence left the door open to move farther afield. I wanted a new city and I wanted it outside of Canada. Its not that I have anything against Canada but it has always felt small to me in the social and political sense. I wanted to be part of a larger world an finally had the push I needed.

I don’t think I would rush to make another move. I’m not ruling out the possibility but there is so much where I am that I want to explore. I enjoy having a stable home to base from. As long as Edinburgh can be that home then I’m happy and would rather take short trips to other places than live there. Given time it may change but right now I love this city too much to leave.

Mostly, what I want to talk about is the idea of boredom in a foreign country. For all the sites and splendour, it happens, especially if mobility is a concern. I can think of a half dozen things I’d like to do in Edinburgh alone but none of them are really spur of the moment activities. Climbing Calton hill or taking a bus tour involve planning and a certain amount of preparation for me. Money, schedules, pain levels, weather and the like have to be considered. I love doing these sorts of afternoon trips or day trips to interesting Castles and Abbeys but they are not the answer to too many quiet afternoons.

The other facet of boredom in a foreign country is that linking up with friends, be it a regular get together or spontaneous doesn’t happen. Friends are in a different time zone of significant separation. Meeting new friends is great but takes time. Depending on how out going a person is it can take more or less time.

Boredom also carries another facet that many friends and I have talked about. Objects at rest tend to stay at rest. At this moment I can think of a half dozen activities I could be doing. None of them are exceptionally inspiring but they would keep me busy. Instead my afternoon has been spent in front of the computer. Logical this may not be, but when you’re doing things and energised it becomes much easier to do those less inspiring tasks, like dishes.

Rereading this post, boredom really doesn’t change a lot even in a foreign country. The sites are less a cure than one might assume at first glance and isolation does play a factor. The rest is pretty much the same. Keeping active and doing things is really the best cure wherever you are. If in doubt there’s always a blog post to write and as some of my readers know I should probably do more of those.

cheers

As some who read this are aware I’ve had my hand in a couple of gaming stores. One as a regular and part time employee, one as an owner/ operator. I have also as a gamer in Edmonton had the opportunity to observe the infamous chain of stores found there.

There are certain problems that seem inevitable with gaming stores. The owners will be surly, the employees disinterested and the inventory never quite satisfactory. I’m really not sure what the solution to these issues are. They may in fact be unavoidable.

I have yet to see a gaming store where the owner or owners are not to one degree or another surly or otherwise out of sorts. Gamers as a whole are a difficult lot. Combine with running a business, hopefully successfully, and its not really surprising. The best that I’ve seen is when the owner channelled that surliness into part of his persona. It becomes humorous rather than intimidating or stand-offish. I have great respect to anyone who can pull it off.

Unlike the owners, the staff at gaming stores tend to be indifferent to their surroundings. It might be an exaggeration to say that the store could be burning down around them and they wouldn’t notice but not much of one. As a whole they go in with the highest of hopes. Almost always gamers, they see a chance to earn money while pursuing their hobby. Invariably they are disillusioned. No gaming store I know of can afford to pay well. Gamers are hard to deal with on an extended basis and when there aren’t customers there’s very little to do. Gaming store staff tend to become disinterested all too quickly. The only aid I’ve seen to work is a staff member who was able to balance outside (school related) projects with activities in the store. Most staff are not so successful.

As far as inventory goes I have the deepest sympathy for owners and anyone responsible for stock. Dealing with suppliers is a nightmare. Problems are further enhanced as a lack of capital means that over stocking is not an option. Though not likely to happen I don’t think a gaming store owner can go in with too much capital. The trick is in reading the customers and knowing what they want. Far to many owners stock what they would want to buy without considering the larger customer base.

These are just a few random thoughts on operating a gaming store. While I may have a trove of stories and advice, copious drink is needed to get me going. I have great respect for the people who succeed at combining there hobby and business.

As many who read this blog know I’m a vegetarian and a picky eater to boot. Living in a foreign country has involved some significant adjustments. Not only do many of the basic foods like juice, cheese and milk taste different but the information surrounding food is also very different. Because of my dietary concerns

I pay a lot of attention to nutritional information. Since moving I’ve been struck by the differences in what is provided to consumers. The majority of food products here include labels stating if they are Vegetarian or Vegan compatible. Its refreshing to be able to look at a prepared food stuff like pasta sauce an quickly know if its something I can eat. This is even more important as ingredient lists are less complete on foods here. The term flavouring is considered sufficient although certain things like caffeine or sweeteners are specifically listed.

The issue of sweeteners has also been something of a headache. I avoid caffeine for the most part and have been banging my head to a certain degree at the non-cafinated sodas here. While Canada is moving rapidly away from sweeteners like aspretaime, the same is not true here. Many pops are available only in a form using artificial sweeteners. On my last trip to the grocery store I was unable to find a lemon-lime soda other than the American brand names that did not use at least a blend of sugar and artificial sweeteners.

Even the recommended daily intakes of food groups has changed. When last I checked Canada food guide was recommending something in the order of 6-8 servings of fruit and vegetables. Here the recommendation is for 5. So far I have not seen the local recommendations for the other food groups but it would not surprise me if they too differed.

As issues of culture shock go, it may not seem like much but food has proven significant for me. I think it is only in the last week or two that I have found a diet that works for me in the local context. Now if I can just find a little more variety....:)

Ten years ago my Mom and I spent a month in Britain for several reasons one of them being to visit some of the sites linked to the Arthurian stories. During a portion of this trip we visited a number of sites but one in particular stood out. It wasn’t Glastonbury Abbey or the thorn tree said to have sprouted from Joseph of Aramathea’s staff. It wasn’t the healing waters. Our tour guide took us to the remains of one of the Celtic hill forts near Glastonbury. He was interested in divining rods and Ley lines and similar phenomena. While we were there he had my mom and I try and both of us got strong reactions along one of the more established Ley lines. I’m not sure how much belief I put in Ley lines but there was something going on and the place had a sense of presence that was deeply moving to me. The creepiness continued when we later developed the pictures and the one I had taken of my Mom had no sign of her in it. I was more than a little unnerved by that.

On that same trip we visited Tintagel. The town itself is small but the site of the ruins often referred to in the Arthurian legends as is a cave near the water line. Because of the nature of the community our accommodations were some distance from the town and ruins. As such we had several miles to walk getting there. In spite of the fact that the area has been developed it held a deep sense of power. We passed through a small ravine that felt as if a woodland creature of myth could walk out at any moment and it would be right. The actual ruins were no less spectacular and carried there own sense of deep awe.

A few places have held that immense sense of awe for me. Thursday’s trip to Lindisfarne priory held that feel for me. The last time I was there was on the trip 10 years ago. It was a stop that my Mom wanted very much to take and in which I had no interest. As such it was as a petulant 15 year old that I reached the ruins. Coming back as an adult, because I wanted too the ruins were deeply moving. In many ways I didn’t want to leave. The sense of the holy was present.

While I have found other places moving in the sense of human ambition and ingenuity it is not the same. These thin places hold a special place in my heart. I look forward to returning to the other sites again as well as discovering others that may be out there.

One of the difficulties I find is that while my body may be quite content to do as little as possible for days on end, my mind has a tendency of climbing the walls when this happens. Boredom is a dangerous thing. While a bored Don may not follow the Tick’s approach and become a super hero it still leads to no good.

It is in search for greater balance that I’ve found myself turning, with surprising eagerness to my not a thesis and its related studies. As part of my requirements for the elusive degree I am required to write a paper of all but thesis length and quality. The biggest qualifier that prevents it from being a true thesis is the name. I also have to smaller studies to do that tie into the not a thesis.

The world becomes much less boring when sifting through the Song of Roland and similar writings for clues into an idealised philosophy. While I will admit that these works can, on occasion be frustrating reads it is with great relish that I tackle them with a purpose. I can even put up with bad attempts at maintaining a rhyming scheme. I consider myself to be very fortunate to have not only history on my door step waiting to be explored but also a focus for mental forays into the realms of antiquity.

I can remember vividly where I was and what i was doing on September 11. I was with cousins in Victoria and got up to them playing the radio coverage of the attacks. When they had to turn attention elsewhere I moved down stairs to watch the coverage on tv. For the next several days it was the focus of my life. I know the images of that day will be with me for life.

The London bombings are in many ways harder for me to process. I wasn’t on the far side of the continent. Due to some miscalculations on my part and delays in Copenhagen I missed my flight from London to Edinburgh. I was lucky and was fit onto a later flight instead of having to overnight and leave the next day. I might very well have caught the train had I needed to overnight. Instead my plain left London at about 9:30 pm, roughly 12 hours ahead of the attacks.

Even now, a month later its hard to process. In hind sight it seems like such a small thing that made the difference. A helpful agent from the airline got me on a plane. I wonder at the little things that combine to make such bid differences. I don’t believe in chance per se. f I use the word it tends to mean in my thinking the combination of choices many people have made that result in an unpredictable outcome. I wonder a great deal at the combination of choices that were at play in those attacks.

When I witness tragedy, be it close at hand or more remotely the issue of choice plays a major role. I do not believe in a God who causes these things. To understand why bad things happen to good people I look to the idea of choice. In order for people to have free choice they must be able to chose even horrific options. Otherwise it isn’t really choice. Of all the gifts of what it is to be human, free choice is one of the greatest in my eye. I might even say it is the defining gift. It is wonderful and it is awful. Welcome to being human.