Animal with Home Value

 Sorting through old echoes, grounding in intention, and finding steadiness one step at a time. Morning Walks, Spinning Thoughts, and the Work of Grounding I woke up early today with that strange mix of humour and heaviness — telling myself to laugh at a sentence or laugh with a sentence. Full stop. Period. Grace and good intention, that’s the hope. But my mind didn’t exactly cooperate. Old memories came rushing in — the messy ones, the ones that don’t feel fair, the ones that show up uninvited. People from my past, choices I never made, things that happened around me that still echo. It’s wild how the brain can drag up something from years ago and drop it right into a quiet morning like it belongs there. So I did what I do: I walked. The university paths were cool and open, and I kept thinking about the goslings I’d seen earlier this week on my drive. Today I got close enough for a picture. Little reminders that life keeps moving forward even when my head is spinning. I kept tel...

 A day shaped by work, wandering thoughts, and the people who make it lighter. A Day Built on Small Graces Today moved in a strange mix of motion and meaning — the kind of day where work pulls you in one direction, your mind pulls you in another, and somehow the dog still gets her walk in between it all. The morning started with deliveries that didn’t quite land: two failed, one with no answer, and the last one ending with me tucking the order into the fridge at work. Not the smoothest start, but that’s the job — you keep going, even when the rhythm is off. I was a bit stinky from the effort, a bit worn from the last eleven days since holidays, but still pushing forward. After work I grabbed my medication from the pharmacy, and that small act — taking care of myself — helped settle the day. My head’s been tired lately, busy in ways that don’t always show on the outside. But even in that fog, there were bright spots. I saw my in‑laws last night. I had a strange episodic thought that...

 Where the Mind Wanders When the World Feels Off‑Balance Holding It Together on a Tired Day I finished my last deliveries today, and one stop had me loading groceries while someone’s dealer lingered out front. It wasn’t danger exactly — just that uncomfortable hum in the air that makes you want to get the job done and move on. I carried that feeling into my dog walk, where my mind wandered back to James. How he died. How I don’t walk with him anymore because he’s gone. How grief sneaks up sideways, even years later, even on a random afternoon. Somewhere in that thinking, I found myself wishing I’d given more grace to the men’s shed guys, even when they go on about cannabis and whatever else. Word order, busy minds, tired minds — it all reveals what’s going on inside a person. People make problems just to sell you problems. And when you’re running on a sleepless night, it’s easy to see everything through the breach and bracket of your own exhaustion. But the walk itself was good. Th...

 A dog walk, a restless night, and the strange ways a mind tries to settle. Dog Walks, Busy Brains, and Strange Nights The dog and I went for a walk to the park this morning. I was hoping she’d do her dog dirt by the Mormon church so I could toss it in the bin and keep going, but she didn’t. So no second lap. I kept thinking she’d save it for the city side, but nope — nothing. Just me, the dog, and the quiet disappointment of carrying an empty bag. So I snapped a photo, took a breath, and kept walking. Another little adventure with Dixie. Last night was a whole different story. My brain was running wild — like I was collared to the temple by the neck chain, dragged into thoughts I didn’t want, didn’t consent to, didn’t ask for. Word order all scrambled, meanings twisting around each other. I couldn’t shut my busy busy brain off until three or four in the morning. Eventually I just handed the whole mess over to the dog, like, “Here, you take it. I’m done.” Five hours of sleep, maybe...

  Walking Through the Static The dog and I slipped out for a walk this morning, the kind where the world feels a little sideways and your brain is still trying to boot up. Two hellos from two different people—small human moments that land softer than you expect. A few yips from a little dog, one bark from mine, and the usual two dog‑dirt bags filled and tied. A short jot down the road and the walk was done, just like that. Simple, but it counts. My day has been spaced again, like the world is slightly nauseating if I look at it too directly. Words feel like they’re vibrating wrong—world, word, whirl—none of them sitting still. I woke up with those weird engine‑starting thoughts, the kind that rev in your head before your feet even hit the floor. Maybe it’s just the season. Maybe it’s just being human. I hope everyone out there gets where they’re going safely today. Roads are full of people carrying their own static. I keep thinking about my next day off and how the mountains always...

 Where the Morning Opens Up Morning Notes From a Quieted Mind The dog was happy this morning, and honestly, that’s enough to set the tone for the whole day. Dixie and I stopped at our favourite spot and snapped a picture — she gave the camera that big, easy smile she saves for the moments when the world feels simple. I said hello to Tammy and Maze on the way; they were already geared up and ready to take on the day. It felt good, that small neighbourly moment, like the city waking up around me. Kim had her bag packed early for her trip to the bridal shower in Edmonton, moving with that calm purpose she gets when she’s got a plan. I grabbed my coffee from Tim Hortons and took a slow drive down University and Métis, just letting the morning settle in. By the time I got home, I was shaking the last of the ice in the cup — a tiny ritual that somehow feels like a reset button. My mind has finally quieted after the last five days. It’s a relief to feel that shift, that easing. I’m happy ...

 Small routines, big thoughts, and the steady rhythm of getting where we’re going. Coffee, Sunlight, and the Strange Little Roads We Travel Some days start sideways and still manage to land in the right place. I was up at midnight flipping through fallacy and bias cards like some kind of philosopher gremlin, telling myself I should sleep, then ignoring myself completely. Finally crashed from 4 to 6, then dragged myself up for more coffee because that’s just how the morning wanted to go. Mom had a vehicle maintenance appointment, so we turned it into a small adventure. Coffee at Tims, sunlight hitting the windshield just right, the kind of quiet moment where you look up and remember the world is still turning even when you’re tired. My brother‑in‑law was around earlier, talking about going back and forth doing work — he was kind, steady, just doing his thing. It’s funny how those small interactions can anchor a day. Took the dog for a walk after, letting her sniff the world while I ...

  A Walk, a Headache, and the Strange Weight of the Day The dog and I got out for a walk today, even though it’s been raining nonstop. The kind of rain that doesn’t just fall — it presses on you, wraps around you, pulls you into its mood. I was already carrying a headache from work, the kind that sits behind the eyes and makes every thought feel heavier. My mind was busy, building and rebuilding things the way it always does, even when I’m not holding a hammer. Still, I love how I draw out my blog every day. It’s like the words walk beside me, even in the rain. They go out into the storm, battle the wind, and somehow come back serving me. I got soaked, but it felt like part of the adventure. Work had its own weight today. A school lockdown happened — that kind of thing always hits a nerve. And then I saw a goose get run over near the wetland. It bothered me more than I expected. Hard emotions, sharp and sudden, like a nail you didn’t see sticking out. The river is getting high agai...

  A Wet Morning, Two Little Dogs, and a Good Painting I headed out into the storm this morning, rain blowing so hard it felt like it was trying to peel my clothes off. Somewhere along the path, a guy with two little dogs said hello. We chatted for a moment about how dogs, when there’s three of them, just bark and bark like they’re arguing over who owns the trail. Funny how they get along by not getting along. We passed each other in the rain with a smile. I wasn’t planning to talk, but he was saying something loud and half‑incoherent, so I stepped closer and answered back. Just two dog walkers out early in a storm, greeting each other like it was the most normal thing. By the time I got home, my pants and shirt were soaked through. Straight into the wash they went. Dixie got the towel treatment — she loved every second of it, leaning into the rub‑down like it was a spa day. The storm’s hitting the whole province. I heard Banff is flooding. Wild weather everywhere. A friend of mine ...

  Short Blog Post — Sunridge Steps & Small Wins Dixie and I took a walk overlooking Sunridge Park today, one of those dynamic little moments where the world feels bigger than the path you’re on. She trotted ahead like we were on some grand adventure, and honestly, it felt like one. I even got two smiles from strangers and a cyclist who gave me that focused, head‑down look only cyclists have. One hello on the gravel path. Small things, but they land. The day was good, even with the two dog dirts I had to pick up. Down University the traffic was busy, and I was out of breath more than I expected, just trotting along without even wearing my pack weight. Still hit my active minutes easily, even though my Enduro didn’t track a thing. Disappointing. I’ve got to butter myself up to remember to hit start. Back home, Kim — the wonderful lady she is — did laundry and cleaned her spare room. I did the dishes. Yesterday I hauled wood to my in‑laws for their new fire pit. Supposedly it’s a ...

 Chaos in the Crow: A Dog, a River, and a Bag of Cheetos Dog Blog: Chaos in the Crow Country Some days start simple and then turn into a full‑on saga. I headed out to the Crow to help my dad clean up some wood, thinking it’d be a quick in‑and‑out kind of thing. But of course, Dixie had other plans. One sniff, one roll, and suddenly my dog was wearing a full coat of dog‑shit cologne. Vest included. I wasn’t pleased. Not even a little. So there I was, peeling her vest off like a hazmat suit and tossing the stinky beast into my vehicle. Disaster. Pure chaos. The kind of moment where you just stare at your life choices and breathe through your mouth. But the day had its wins. Dad cooked me a burger and handed me a bag of Cheetos — gluten‑free, bright orange happiness. I even thought of my wife for a moment, the way small comforts do that. Then I hit the road again, down the uncanny valley, Columbia Drive, and up McLeod toward Mt. Burke. Stopped in Fort Macleod for fuel, dropped off woo...

  The River Took the Ball (But Gave Me a Good Day Anyway) Apparently I’m a landlord now — to bees. I discovered this when I noticed a steady parade of them marching in and out from under my deck like they were clocking in for a shift. Dozens of them. Maybe hundreds. And somewhere down there, I’m pretty sure there’s a queen living her best life. The problem? There’s concrete under the deck, so I can’t just poke around and see what’s going on. And I’m not about to evict them with force. Bees are important, and I’m not trying to be the villain in their tiny bee‑drama. So now I’m in research mode, trying to figure out how to get them out safely without tearing up half my backyard. It’s going to be a process — but hey, at least it’ll make for an interesting blog entry. A Day at the River (and the Ball That Got Away) The dog and I have our little routine down at the river bottom. It’s our quiet place — just the two of us, a chair, a brush, and a ball. Most days we sit right in the w...

  A dropped ball, a clean riverbank, a quiet car ride, and a dog grinning her way through the heat. A Warm Wednesday at the River I walked down to the river this afternoon, ball in hand — or so I thought. Turns out I dropped it back at the park entrance while picking up dog dirt. That’s the kind of distraction the river has on me; once I’m headed toward the water, everything else fades out. Someone had left a pair of socks on the riverbank, so I tossed them in the garbage on my way through, trying to keep the place a little cleaner. Dad joined me for about an hour, and we tossed the ball once I finally realized I’d lost it and grabbed another. Dixie got her turns too, splashing in and out of the water, absolutely thrilled. She had that big dog‑grin going, brown eyes shining straight into the camera like she knew she was having a perfect day. It hit 28°C today, warm enough that the coulee felt like the right place to be. Dixie was a surprisingly good car rider — not a single bark on...

 A slow walk alone, noticing birds, turtles, willows, and the quiet thoughts that rise when the leash stays at home. A Walk Down to the Crow Without Dixie Today I walked down to the Crow by myself — no dog tugging the leash, no black shadow pacing beside me. Just me, my thoughts, and the space around me. It felt different, quieter in a way I don’t always let myself sit with. The river was doing its usual thing, sending ripples across the surface like it was breathing slow. I watched a poplar on the far bank sway like it was waving at me. Blackbirds in every shade and pattern flicked through the reeds, robins hopped around like they owned the place, and yes — even turtles showed up for the moment. I sat on the land ties that hold the path together, letting the stillness settle in. Ants crawled over the wood, busy with whatever ants are always busy with. A robin flew overhead and dropped a little mid‑air gift — nature’s sense of humor, I guess. From where I sat, I could see the willo...

  https://lethbridgeherald.com/news/lethbridge-news/2026/05/23/strides-of-hope-walk-raises-awareness-for-schizophrenia/ Since Facebook doesn't allow newspaper articles share I'm sharing it through my blog... face book seems to allow this to happen.... You can see me with the tilly hat 👒 on... Yesterday, I had the privilege of attending the **Strides of Hope Walk** in Lethbridge, hosted by the **Schizophrenia Society of Alberta**. It was an incredible, community-driven event dedicated to raising vital awareness, breaking down stigmas, and providing support for those affected by schizophrenia. But for me, this event hit incredibly close to home for another reason: **my wonderful wife.** A Proud Partner Moment Supporting my wife in her career is deeply important to me, and watching her work with the Society has been nothing short of inspiring. Leading up to the walk, I know she was feeling the pressure. She was quite nervous about the day—wanting everything to go perfectly for a ...

  A cold dip, warm company, and a simple day well spent The drive out to visit my in‑laws didn’t start perfectly — Kim headed out before me and was a little upset that I wasn’t driving with her. But by the time we all got together, the mood had shifted and the day settled into something good. The dog definitely won the day with an extra‑long walk, tail up and happy the whole time. I didn’t track the distance, but it didn’t matter; it was one of those walks where the company and the moment mattered more than the numbers. In the end, it turned into a simple, solid visit that felt worth the effort. Dixie got her big moment at the river today — the second she saw the water, she pulled straight down the bank like it was calling her by name. She jumped right in and even dunked her whole head under, completely fearless. The mountain river was definitely cold for late May, but she didn’t care; if anything, it cooled her right down and made her even happier. She stayed in for a decent stret...

 🤢🤮 🤢🤮 What’s my opinion of the trades, for every sixth retiring trades people 2 are replacing them that’s how proficient and efficient trades have gotten. they have a endless pool of youth to pick out of is…. Not everyone are going to be tradespeople…. Actually most are jobs that are growing in America are in services, hospitality, retail. They are poorly paid in an era of knowledge. how about lifting minimum wage? And let me tell you there is an underlying problem of to many men getting hurt in the trades and just disappear with no one asking where or when or what happen, I know Nigel Shenton 5% of the population make min wage, those are entry level jobs, if you are a grown adult making min wage, the problem is you. Dwayne Ball, you’re suggesting I should reset to minimum wage or entry-level apprentice pay for four years just to "earn" a livable wage? You’re essentially saying I should do the hardest physical labor for a quarter of the pay just to exist in a working ...