Russian Vignette

I was recently encouraged to write a little more, stories of life, anecdotes of human incompetence and dramatic retellings of mundane events. I will endeavour to do so as the muse descends . The burgeoning demand for my meagre literary prowess demonstrates one fundamental fact of life. There is no accounting for taste.

As there have been few truly inspiring recent events I'll pull one from the archives, this particular tale still stands as the most harrowing experience of my life.

The adventure began as we set off to St. Petersberg on the overnight train. The ride was quite comfortable and I was looking forward to spending the day touring one of the worlds most beautiful and stories cities. In nearly every respect St. Petersberg lived up to it's billing. The eye could hardly take in the grandeur of the scenery. Even the train station we pulled into would put many mansions to shame.

As you all know I have always have a dreadful aversion to all things off colour. Whether it be the public washrooms at Dickson Hill school, the ramshackle outhouse affectionately known as the "Lloyd" or Father's own particular brand of humour. Such things have always haunted my sense of decency. Little did I know that amidst the splendor of that fair city I would be subjected to the most repellent of all circumstances I've had to endure.

The overnight train did not have a privy on board that I was aware of. To be truthful I never looked, I wouldn't have availed myself of it anyway. But after a long night the inevitabilities of nature take hold and relief must be sought. I was a little irked from the outset that this train station didn't have free washrooms. Profiting from this circumstance seems morally questionable at best. 10 rubles bought you a place in line and 3 meagre sheets of transparent toilet paper. They only let in a set amount of people at a time it seemed. I shuddered as I wondered what one did if 3 sheets didn't complete the task. The march back to the counter for reinforcements would have been most unpleasant, not to mention having to line up again.

As I rounded the corner into the washroom I surveyed the scene. On one side there were several large stalls on the other was obviously what passed for a urinal in St. Petersberg. We would have likely identified it as an eaves trough bolted to a wall. That was fine though, it's not as if I ever plan on using a urinal. I entered the first roomy stall and was taken aback. The stall was completely empty! There was no fixture of any kind. I assumed the whole place was under construction, that would explain the concrete floors and walls and maybe even why they had to charge money to use it. No matter, I'd simply wait my turn to use the neighboring stall.

A chap eventually emerged looking well relieved with a newspaper underarm, it was a promising sign. However I skipped into his stall to find that it looked exactly like the last stall I observed. I poked my head back into the first stall and this time noted two features of the cubicle that had escaped my initial inspection. It had a floor that was slightly slanted towards the centre and a hole the size of a twonie in the middle. I'm not sure if it's possible to convey the horror I felt at that very moment. Thankfully the human body is wired in such a way that the sudden onset of fear either accelerates bodily functions or stops the process entirely. It is to the latter group that my body belongs, God be praised. Had I spoken Russian I may have tried to warn those standing in line that this particular commode hardly offered value for money. Instead I beat a hasty retreat and steeled myself for a day of discomfort.

As it turns out a proper restroom was eventually found and the city of St Petersburg as well as the Winter Palace did their best to blot out the day's unfortunate prelude. But still........

I have always wondered what use the fella in front of me got out of that newspaper. It haunts me to this day.

More pictures

Nicole's Wedding

Here are some of Caralyn's thoughts about the wedding:

-Collette had the best mother-of-the-bride dress I've seen. I wish I
had taken a photo of her head-to-toe just to show you.
-It was COLD. I think I told you that before. The sun was shining,
though, so it was beautiful.
-There was a lot of laughter. There was laughter during the
ceremony; there was laughter during the reception. I laughed a lot.
-Tara had a GREAT speech for Nicole. Again, I laughed my butt off.
She did well.
-Tatum was sick the day before the wedding, and the night after.
Praise God she wasn't sick during!
-Tatum and Keeley actually danced in front of everyone, by themselves,
to get the bride and groom to kiss. Impressive.
-I tried to chose photos to send you that encompassed the whole day.
The single one of Holden is him waving to Nicole and calling to her
when she was coming down the aisle (actually, they came across the
front of everyone, so his eyes were on her the whole time...it was
cute).
-Trev felt like a math teacher in the layered look I dressed him in.
I think Stacy and Clinton would be proud. (from What Not To Wear)
-Nicole provided gift bags of goodies for my three older kids that
came to the reception. They were AWESOME and such a good idea.
-Jordan and a girl (didn't know who she was) were the MCs. They did
a great job.

It was a nice time...a great wedding.

Of Football And Footrests

We had a great time with Davis as he visited for a little over a week. We didn't do anything too special but the highlight for me was when we got the chance to fulfill one of my dreams. Davis and I got to play together in a competitive soccer game. Davis was allowed to suit up for our co-ed team here in Regina and we played most of the second half on the same side of the midfield.

I have to say we formed quite an effective partnership, we both scored and the other team really had a hard time dealing with us. I'm sure glad we got a chance to play before Davis got injured.

I hope you make a speedy recovery Davis! As for me I'll have to find a way to stay in shape long enough to play in the same side as the rest of you lads.

Our playoffs start this weekend and the NFL starts on Sunday. Should be a good weekend!

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On another note I think I found a job for Dad in Regina. Yesterday I was drafted to help Dominick pick up some furniture that he bought from Ashley Furniture. He had originally paid for delivery but his order had been screwed up several times and then delayed so he decided to cut a step out and get it from the warehouse himself.

We called ahead and were told that they needed 3 hours notice before we could pick the items up. We thought it was a silly company policy, but it was actually an ominous warning of their complete and utter ineptitude.

Upon arriving at the warehouse we discovered the reason why they need 3 hours, the warehouse is actually just a large room with furniture strewn about. There was no system, no order and no chance of anyone getting anything quickly.

The chap unofficially in charge seemed to have the IQ of a backward clam but amongst his co-wokers he was something of a salient intellectual. Apparently in the 3 hours we gave them all they managed to do was locate our order. Never mind getting the items that were on the order.

All in all it took us an hour of scouring the warehouse to locate the items, we found most of them by ourselves and even managed to fill a few orders for other customers who were a little less understanding of the whole haphazard process.

But I would have to say that my favorite ironic moment came when we realized that we could not find the ordered end tables because the wordless lackey who was blindly assembling items for delivery had begun to assemble the very tables we were looking for.

Needless to say if Dad ever needed a job I'm sure they'd hire him, a faint pulse seems to be the only qualification necessary for employment.