Here’s some photos:

where's the car

My car is under there someplace.

My back driveway

More on page two…

Something warm and tropical one would think, but I decided on snow.  Here’s the WonderDog goofing around.

Snow Bandit

His eyes were as big as donuts, and there was obviously some concern that whatever was happening was not natural. (Usually, a thunderstorm is just another reason to have a nap as far as he is concerned)  Thunder rumbled constantly, and it was apparent I was not getting back to sleep.

I went downstairs, and as I was making coffee, there was another bright flash of lightning.  I warned the guard dog that there was more to come, and he immediately came to my side to protect me.

A half hour later, the storm had changed into a heavy rain that continued for the rest of the day.  It seemed like a good day for “interneting” and I grabbed a coffee and smokes and headed for the computer.

No internet access.

“Oh well,” I thought. “They’ll get it working later on today.  Lightning must have hit something.”   About six hours later, I decided to phone and see if it was going to be fixed soon.  I was told there were several areas still out, but they would be repaired as soon as possible.  I was to call if it was not working on Monday so they could send out a technician.

On Monday, I still didn’t have an internet connection, and made the call for a tech to come out.  The earliest they could come out would be Thursday.

“My God,” I panicked.  “That’s five days without internet.  How will I survive?”  I broke into a cold sweat immediately.

Somehow I managed to survive.  But I did find it amazing (perhaps disturbing) how much I depended on the internet for news, weather, email, etc. It’s been a morning ritual for years to bond with my computer for an hour each morning over my morning coffee.

Seriously, I probably would not have been too anxious normally.  It is just the internet, after all.

But, through incredibly bad timing, and my usual bad luck, my new grandson was born on Tuesday, and I had to wait to see the photos.

The internet withdrawal pains eventually subsided, but I knew the desire would always be there.  And when the connection was finally repaired on Thursday, I fell back into the old habits almost immediately.

I woder, how did the human race manage before the internet?

The other night, there was an annoying little moth fluttering about the living room while I was watching TV.  It alternated between crawling on the television screen and circling the lamp on the coffee table.  Bandit the wonder dog watched it with extreme interest.  It eventually found its way into territory close to me.  Somehow, I managed to swat it out  of the air, but didn’t see where it fell.  A few minutes later, Bandit found the wounded critter on the floor.  He watched it curiously for a few minutes from a few feet away and then moved closer.  Doing what dogs do during an investigation, he sniffed at it two or three times, at a nose to nose distance.  On the “out” sniffs, the moth was actually blown away a couple of inches.

I don’t know if a moth has much sense of self preservation, but this one seemed to know it was in trouble and tried for a getaway.  Flight seemed impossible because of its injuries, but it crawled as fast as it could.  Bandit slapped  his paws at the moth several times, but missed every time.  By now, they were two or three feet from the crash landing site.

Still doing what dogs do, Bandit decided it obviously needed to be tasted to make the final determination.  The moth managed to avoid the dog’s long tongue for a while, but eventually was captured.  And spit out.  And re-captured.  And re-spit out.  And re-captured again.

Now Bandit started gagging, making those horrible “I’m gonna puke” noises.  He was rolling his tongue around the roof of his mouth- you know – like when you get peanut butter somehow stuck up there.   To my relief (the puke thing, you understand) the moth was finally coughed out.

The sniff, sniff thing started all over again.  And the taste test. And the gagging thing.  And the cough it up thing.

Somehow the moth managed a short flight and clung onto the side of Bandit’s nose, just above the corner of his mouth.  Bandit tried to snag it with his tongue, but the moth moved up higher, until it reached a safe spot on the dog’s nose, between his eyes.

Bandit shook his head to get it off.  The moth hung on desperately.   More head shaking.  More clinging.  Bandit tried to get it off with his paws, but couldn’t reach the right spot.

A new plan was necessary. Bandit tried to get rid of the moth by wiping his face on the floor.  No success.  Wipe on the couch.  Still no luck.  The moth was safe and sound, hiding in plain sight.

Accepting defeat, Bandit sighed, and laid down beside the couch.  The moth was still on his nose.

“What’s wrong, Buddy?” I laughed.

The dog looked up at me, ashamed.  It was obvious what he was saying.

“There’s a f*#*ing bug on my nose – what do you think is wrong?”

I picked the moth off Bandit’s nose, and decided that after its valiant struggle, this moth deserved a better fate than the toilet, and released it outside.

Generally, I like to think I have an intelligent dog.  I’m trying to convince myself that he was just distracted when he was getting a drink, or perhaps he needs glasses.  How else could you miss that much water with a big tongue like that?

Sorry Bandit, we don’t have a health plan!

Just wondering, do dogs with a vision impairment need to have seeing eye humans?

All was well and good, and kinda funny while the dog was licking his hand.

But it was a cry to Mommy for help when that thing tasted his whole face with one swipe!

I had never used it, but it was supposed to let me take a photo from as far as 25 feet away. So, when someone said they wanted a family photo while we were in Edmonton, I thought it was the chance to try it out.

After I figured out how to make it work (you have to change some of the set-up on the camera to enable it) I set the camera on a tripod and lined everybody up and pointed the marvelous gadget at the camera and pushed the clicker button.

Nothing happened.

So I waved it around (cause that’s what you do with a remote control when it doesn’t work) and tilted it up and pointed it down and aimed to the right and then the left and pushed harder on the button and pushed again and still nothing happened. I moved a little closer and pushed the button and still nothing. About 5 feet from the camera I got a beeping sound, and a red light started flashing, but by the time I got back to where I should be, it was too late.

In the end, one of Ashley’s friends acted as the remote control. Not quite so high tech, but it worked better.

Ivy, Natasha, Bandit and I decided that a day trip to Banff was in order and set out at about 10:00 towards the mountains.

I had originally planned on doing the “tourist” thing in the town of Banff for a while (mostly for Ivy’s sake, because I thought she would like to look at some of the little shops there) but the Town of Banff decided that this was the week to literally rip up the main street from one end to the other to replace the storm sewer. It certainly didn’t resemble the scenic little village you see on the post cards and TV shows. After traveling through about six blocks of major construction, I was fed up, and just wanted to move on. We managed to find our way to the Gondola lift, and Ivy bought a post card.

I could spend days in the mountains, but we only had a few hours, so we grabbed some lunch at MacDonald’s and headed towards Lake Louise. I wanted to know if the water was as bright blue as I seemed to remember it from years ago.

The scenery was fantastic, and I decided it would be wise if I wasn’t trying to drive, eat a Big Mac, and take photos all at the same time. I stopped at a roadside turnout to eat my sandwich, and take a couple of pictures.

(more on next page)

Wood ticks are arachnids. That is a spider as far as I’m concerned. Right after wood ticks, spiders are second on my list of bugs I don’t want to see. Ever.

Ticks are blood sucking spiders with a bad attitude and almost impossible to kill. That’s not a very scientific description, but it’s my opinion.

Here’s what one website had to say about wood ticks: (it was supposed to be informative, but it just gave me the heeby jeebies) “Lacking antennae or functional eyes, it senses its prey by detecting exhaled carbon dioxide and waves its forelegs frantically. You brush the leaves and it grabs hold, tirelessly working its way through hair or clothing, toward flesh.” It goes on to say that wood ticks do not have to eat for two years.

So woodticks are blind, flat, sneaky, hungry, spastic, blood-sucking, armour plated spiders with a really bad attitude and a face I’m sure not even their mother loves. They are just ugly at it’s ugliest, as this closeup proves.

Did I mention I hate wood ticks?

Tonight, Bandit the Wonder Dog and I went to the lake. I knew there would be wood ticks. There is always wood ticks at the lake, especially early in the spring. I avoided tall grass. I avoided trees. I avoided anything I thought a tick could perch himself on like the blood sucking vulture he is, so that I wouldn’t have to deal with the hateful insects.

I knew the dog would find some. I was prepared mentally to deal with that.

On the way home, I felt something crawling on my neck – I grabbed it – it was a goddam woodtick of course. I threw it out the window. A minute later, I felt something on my arm – another one of the little bastards. I brushed it off in a panic, forgetting it will just crawl onto me again, determined little blood sucking arachnids that they are.

I got home, threw all of my clothes in the washing machine, (I’ll drown them I thought) and jumped in the shower. I found three more on me.

Can you feel them yet? I still do. Continuing…

The dog – I have to check the dog, because he will get up onto the bed with me in the middle of the night, and I just get his leftovers. I found four or five on him, and realized (with horror) that now I had to check me again. I found a couple more on the floor.

I’m sure Bandit still has a few, and by tomorrow morning (if I ever get over this creepy crawly feeling and go to bed) I’ll find a few more on me.

I hate wood ticks.

The dog and I went for a walk today. That’s not unusual. I decided I would once again try to take some photos in Happy Valley, even though I had Bandit with me.

The ducks fascinate him. Today, he was determined he was going to get close to them. Bandit’s natural stocking instincts are a little rusty, but he did manage to get within a few feet of the birds before they flew away.