Still Growing Up

Growing up in the Church of Jesus Christ of Later day Saints (Mormon) was not an easy task. 

There are a lot of reasons why this was for me.  My Parents did not share the same religious views among other varying outside influences.  When you are a child you do what your parents want and you accept it as being right.  As you grow you begin to want to know those things for yourself.  This journey of self discovery has been, for me, difficult.  There are a lot of different reasons why and maybe I will tell those stories another time, but for now I will tell you where I am now.

I am grateful for my experiences in life.  I wish at times I had the fore thought to learn from other's mistakes.  Instead I chose to make a whole lot of my own.  These experiences have made me who I am today. 

I have found out that This is my religious belief.  Not my Mother's or anyone Else's but my own.  I would not want to be anywhere else in my life but here.  In a lot of ways it has saved my life.

I am still growing.

Manfred Berger, Bishop Andreas Weckesser, Me

I have had the Wonderful opportunity to serve in our Church as a member of our Bishopric.  I have served as a councilor to our Bishop.  It has been a treasured experience to learn from two of the finest men.  This opportunity to grow and strengthen my Testimony of The Gospel Of Jesus Christ has been monumental for Me.

The interesting thing about this opportunity is that I am still Me. I have all the same weaknesses as ever before, but my strengths are beginning to out weigh them.

Ether 12:27

27 And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

For this I will forever be grateful.

Home Away From Home

Growing up out Beaver Creek in Port Alberni was a great time in my life.  I loved being out in the country.  I was born in Southern Alberta and I remember being young and living on a Farm.  The outdoors, the freedom to roam, the animals and everything.  It was great.  We moved to White Rock from there and lived in the city for a while.  I think we drove my Mother mental.  Since then I am sure my parents endeavored to live in the country so my Mom could stay sane.  I loved our house, but I had a Home away from Home.

Brad and Donna Reynolds home down the way was that home away form Home.  I think my mom started babysitting their kids after school and then when she went back to work I was 14 and I started babysitting for them.  I think that is how it started.  They were on my paper route as well so I was by there everyday.  I am sure I drove them crazy as well.

Travis Reynolds

I spent sooo much time there.  It was great.  I felt like family.  I babysat for them and came over nearly every day.  Riding horses with the Kids was the best time.  I actually really miss it.

This pond is Molcasters Pond.  It is out beyond the Old McLean's Mill.

This was our favorite spot to go on summer evenings for a quick ride.  It was about an hour from the house back through some good trails.

Molcaster's pond

Travis

Amanda with Holly(6 months)

I thought it was great when we moved back to the Island when Holly was a baby and things came full circle.  Amanda did some babysitting for us and even gave Holly her first horseback ride.  Those kids are all grown up now and having kids of their own.  We keep in touch on occasion, but I miss those days.  I am grateful to the Reynolds family for including me in their lives.  These are treasured memories.

I have to put out a shout to Mark their youngest.  Sorry Mark I didn't have a pick of you in my collection.

Many Faces Of Robin

Robin and I out on a date waaay back when.  We were so young!!!

I Love these pictures of Robin.

Someone could say we were just babies when we got married. 

Our anniversary came and went in April. 

18 years! 

I think most people thought we wouldn't get through the year.  Robin is what I always wanted.  Not just her but the idea of her.  I remember kids growing up saying they wanted to be this or that.  I remember growing up and wanting to be married and a Dad.  Robin has given me the greatest gift.  I truly do owe everything that I m today to her.  She has always been the constant in our marriage.  I have definitely challenged her patients over the years and put all the vows to the ultimate test.  She has stood by me and at times has drug me in the right direction.   Robin is most of all irreverent, inappropriate, funny, sarcastic, strong willed, and most of all everything I need her to be when I just can't.  I love you honey. 

Thanks for being you!

Uncle Nolan Will Always Be the Cool One

My Little Brother is getting Married this summer.  Something we were never really sure would happen.  Don't get me wrong I couldn't be happier for him.  He has always been a free spirit.  Nolan is beholden to no one but himself.  I have always admired this in him and it has also been a most frustrating thing at times.  He is incredibly outgoing and friendly.

Nolan and the Beard

OOHHH your Nolan's Brother!!!  I went through MY senior year in High School being recognized in this way.  This may be the curse of the Middle Child.  I started the 10th grade being known as Clint's younger brother and all the girls I liked just wanted to talk to me so I could introduce them to Clint.  (Apparently he was HOT)  I had one good year in grade 11 of total obscurity.  My Senior year was supposed to be mine, but to no avail.  Nolan was still in Junior High and already I was beginning to become the Kramer that was Nolan's brother.  Worse yet was there were girls I liked again that knew of Nolan more than me. WOW!

Even his Nieces and Nephew Love him more!

Cool Dude!

One of many Hair Changes.

Waterton Park in Alberta

On the phone!  Remember those days.

Don't get me wrong, I am not bitter.  Any more!  I love my Brother.  He is the highlight of my kids life.  Everyone loves him because he is genuinely friendly.  He treated everyone with care and attention regardless of which click you were with in school.  Nolan was and is your friend.

Congratulations on the engagement Nolan and Maggie.  ( I just hope she doesn't become known as Nolan's wife)

BMX bikes and jumping people

If you were a teenage boy in the late 80's early 90's you probably had pictures like this on the wall of your bedroom.  I had these and others ( but we won't go into the details of those).  Motorcycles and fast cars were every adolescent boys fantasy.  But until you could drive or got any good job you had to settle for that mode of transportation called a bike.  At least you could make it a good bike.  Back them the mountain bike was just barley in the market.  Just the same the coveted bike of choice for us was the BMX.  The Mongoose BMX was the proche of bikes, and everyone wanted it.

We were head over heals in love with this bike.  It was expensive too.  I had a paper route and hard working parents and it was a little out of our reach.  I remember a neighbor kid did get one and it was the envy of every kid for miles around.  The best thing about the BMX was the ability to do tricks.  You had to be fearless.  Remember safety equipment was non existent in my era.  Nothing like a good smack in the head by the pavement to remind you that you were still alive.  The best stunts were the home made jumps.  A good sturdy piece of plywood and some logs from the firewood pile and you had a good jump.  The higher the better.  And then there was the things you could jump.  PEOPLE!

This is not an actual picture of us.  I found it on the net.  It is a good rendition of exactly what we were up to.  And it is kind of comforting to know that we were not the only idiots around.

I remember one particular incident involving the above stupidity.

My parents were watching the neighbor boy while his parents were away for the weekend and we introduced him to our favorite past time.  He was too scared to lie with his face up so he layed down on his belly.  My older brother, Clint, was up and came roaring down the hill and around the corner.  We were all laying on the ground tense with anticipation.  He`s done it a hundred times what`s to worry about! Right!  well just as he is about to hit the jump his chain skips off and he loses desperately needed speed.  Hits the jump and comes off right in the back of the kids head.  Smashes his face into the gravel and infuses a gash between his eyes that needed stitches.  Needless to say my parents were not impressed at having to send this kid home after the parents got home with stitches between his eyes.  I don`t believe they were too impressed either.  I feel like I need to build a jump!

Ninjas And The Snake Pit

My Mother was terrified of snakes and all things creepy crawly. At least I think she was until she had three boys. You know those shows where they make you face your fears in order to overcome them. We took it to the extreme. Nolan was the worst offender. I don't believe he was ever intentionally mean about it, he just had a natural fascination with these things. If it was slimy or slithery, Nolan would inevitably spot it before the rest of us and had no fear, but to pick it up. Maybe even stick it in his pocket for laundry day. Mom loved laundry day.

For awhile we were also fascinated by the 80's movies about ninjas. What boy wasn't back then. We wanted to learn everything Ninja. We all had secret dreams of getting lost in Japan and being raised by a Ninja Master. My Dad's shop was commandeered and we set to making wooden swords, nun chucks, and the all important throwing stars. Nolan was the only one that got the all coveted Ninja suit. His friend down the street, Mike was able to buy one. My mom was able to then take it and copy it to sew one for Nolan. I don't think he ever took it off that summer. He and Mike were constantly skulking through the bushes in the dark looking for their next victim. You may be asking yourself why I would put these two stories together. Well I wasn't the first. Nolan and Mike seemed to have no end to their creativity. It is interesting to note that when ever there was work to be done in the yard, Nolan seemed to instantly have the need to go to the bathroom. Never knew anyone that could spend hours in the bathroom like him. I say this because it was shocking to me that Nolan and Mike would take the initiative to dig a large pit in the bush on a hot summer afternoon. But they did. They set out then to collect as many guarder snakes as they could to fill that pit. I have to give them credit for their perseverance. They set out with one of those large green rubber maid garbage cans and patiently filled it with as many snakes as they could find. I am sure they found every guarder snake they could find with in a mile radius of the house. The pit truly was a sight to behold. I am not sure what happened to all the snakes in the end, but knowing Nolan they were probably set on their way.

I am more overly impressed that when he truly set his mind to something Nolan could accomplish it. I am sure had my parents told him to do it it would have just resulted in another long stay in the bathroom.

Did Cowboys and Indians have Pellet Guns

My Father had taught us boys from an early age to respect fire arms and treat them as though they could kill at any moment. One of my earliest memories of shooting a gun was the farm in Grassy Lake Alberta. I think. Resting the barrel of my Dad's little .22 cal rifle on a cross board of the fence, lining up the sights and shooting at cans. I have a recollection of shooting his .303 and getting knocked on my butt by the recoil. However as I stated this is a fuzzy memory at best. The point is we were farm kids, raised to respect certain things. So it may come as no surprise that as we reached a certain age (12 I think) my Dad would by us each our own air rifle. Why not, we were raised to care for and respect these items, as well we were living in the country with lots of back woods in which to develop our skills. I just think that if he had even the slightest clue about what we were really capable of he would never have considered getting them for us.

For starters, My Mom's Christmas lights were history. The large old bulbs on the green wire were hung with care by Mom one year. They stayed up all year. She just replaced the bulbs as needed. Which was often. The point is they make the coolest popping noise to a twelve year old with an itchy trigger finger.

Birds were an endangered species in our yard. My younger brother, Nolan had a bedroom at the front of the house. Both windows opened to give a 180 degree view of the yard. There was a small hole in each screen, just large enough to allow the barrel of the gun to fit through for that stealthy, clean shot. I know, I know, poor birds. I think that now, but hey I was twelve.


Not quite sure when we discovered that the flat headed pellets hurt, but left the skin intact. I am sure it was not by accident. If one of us was shot first I am quite confident it was out of malicious intent. We were all about revenge in those days. Needless to say it was discovered and from that point on all of our "hunting" trips would inevitably turn into an scene from the latest movie depicting the war in Vietnam. We loved the jungle warfare, Gi Joe stuff. How we were able to keep all of our eyes is still a miracle in my opinion. We would set ground rules as to distance and such and we would go to town "hunting" each other. These were single shot rifles, sneak attack was everything. Nolan, however would always take it to the next level. He would find himself pinned down and wait for you to reload. He would them charge with full war cry and plug you in the back side as you ran for dear life. This was of course at close range and it hurt.

We often took this little adventure to new heights as we would get older. We as brothers would fight, and fight hard. It didn't take long before the guns would come out ant we would shoot at each other on the house. The trick is ensuring you fill all the holes in the wall before your parents get home. I would like to think that my parents never had a clue what was going on, but as I get older and have teenagers of my own I have come to appreciate the comforting power of denial.

Blowing Up Nolan

Our house out Beaver Creek, Port Alberni, BC

Did you have a burn barrel when you were growing up? We had a burn barrel out front of our house on Beaver Creek Rd. (Yeh Creekers).
Some might consider taking the garbage out as a chore. I certainly do now. What am I saying the kids do it I don't have to. Love ya Kids.

Well when you are a teenager and your parents are giving you permission to light something on fire, it is NOT a chore. Nothing is going to stand between you and striking the match. Watching anything go up in flames when you are young is as mesmerizing as anything you have ever experienced. It is like a strong euphoric drug to a teenage boy. Maybe that's why Dad's plumbing torch never had any propane left in it. If it burned we burned it. From making smoke bombs with wooden matches and masking tape, to drawing designs with gasoline and then lighting it on fire, to the fireworks wars we used to have on Halloween. If we thought we could get away with it we burned it. Remember what I said denial is a powerful parenting tool.


Well this particular day of garbage duty probably started off as any other. Take the garbage out to the barrel and light it up. Not hard right. Of course you would have to have a certain amount of accelerant, otherwise where is the oohh aaahh effect. They had to be able to see it from space or it just didn't count.

This is the way i remember it. Clint and I were out getting things ready for the big burn. Nolan was being his regular annoying self. "Let me light it, Let me, Let me." you get the point. We sent him in to get matches. I can't speak for Clint, but I don't remember my intent at this point. The gas was added while Nolan was inside. He came out all gleeful and such. I picture him skipping, delighted at the prospect of lighting the match, but I don't think he ever skipped. The bag was high on the burn barrel, open. He leaned in real close, head in the bag close to block the wind I am sure. He struck that match and put it to the fuel soaked garbage. The rest was literally a blur. It erupted in full force. That poor boy flew back a good fifteen feet rolling over backwards.

It's funny how you remember things. I don't remember getting into trouble. I don't remember being overly concerned or helpful to the little turd at that point. I can't even say i remember Clint's reaction. I just keep seeing him flying through the air and rolling over.

Nolan lost both eyebrows, eyelashes and his hair was singed back to his ears. He was blistered on his nose, cheeks and forehead. We laugh about this now as we sit and tell these stories, but the seriousness of what could have happened is not lost on us as we have aged. All I can say now is that our Guardian Angles worked a lot of overtime.

I had to open my big mouth

Ever had that after thought, "If only I had kept my mouth shut." One of the down falls of living an adventurous life is that you tend to have a few "stories" along the way. I guess one of the first things you tend to learn as a parent is that little ears always listen.

We had moved into our new rental in Port Alberni. It was a nice home with a good fenced back yard. We had inherited a trampoline from some friends when they moved and thought it perfect for the kids. On the back of the house was a wood shed with a roof on it that made me instantly think "If I were still young I would be jumping off that roof". Well shortly after we moved in I made the comment that the kids had better not think of jumping off that roof onto the trampoline. I had forgotten that by saying just that it was an open invitation to try it.
















Holly's first learning experience as a teenage was that if you don't want Mom and Dad to find out, don't leave the pictures on your camera. Needless to say the invitation was taken with full heart.

I think it turned into more of a competition. It goes with out saying that if you involve everyone, no one can tell on you or they get into trouble too.

I tried a lot of stupid thing and I guess it is just part of growing up. You realize at some point that the reason your parents always knew what you were up to, is because they were up to the same thing. My children will grow to figure out the same lesson.

Being a Dad of four daughters and a son is my greatest adventure to date. I mourn the day they all leave, but look forward to the new adventures to come. And don't worry girls I did not cry when I wrote that last bit.

I've launched Chickens, Have You?

You might be wondering about this title.

I would warn you it is exactly as it sounds.

My Father grew up in small towns and Farms thru out Saskatchewan and Southern Alberta. He picked up a few tricks along the way. Much to my Mother's dismay he wasn't shy about teaching us boys a thing or two. Passing time living on a farm takes creativity and ingenuity. You can only build so many hay forts and make so many mud pies that you then begin to think there must be something more.

My Father taught us to launch chickens.

Let me just preface the story a little. My mother loved our Farm in Aldergrove. After moving from a farm house in Alberta, on several sections of land, to a condo in Whiterock(Vancouver). I am sure we were driving my Mother to distraction. My father had the opportunity to rent a house on Ten acres of land in the then quite town of Aldergrove. My mother cried when she saw the house for the first time. It was not for relief of getting out of the city, but that is another story I will tell you some other time. So here we were again on a property Mom could plant and grow and raise some animals. She loved her chickens. It was our job to feed and collect eggs. To a eight year old they were simply another chore in the way of the fun stuff. So when presented the opportunity to launch a chicken we "Jumped" on the chance.

Launching is an Art. Catching the chicken is simply put, chaos. For a flightless bird they are surprisingly quick and agile. But when you are finally graced with the opportunity to lay you hands on one, that is when the fun begins. They may be quick, but they are not very smart. Take the chickens head and tuck it under it's wing. Gentle stoke the bird until in is lulled into a false sense of security. Meanwhile, in preparation to all of this, you have set up the launching apparatus. A see saw of epic proportions. A good long plank balanced over a good size object that a ten, eight,and six year old could muster. Your little brother is precariously balance on the shoulders of you older brother. He is vibrating in anticipation for the moment. You gently place the chicken on the lower side of the see saw. Your little bother leaps before anyone has a chance to say go. That chicken is then launched into oblivion only to awake twenty feet in the air. This bird may be flightless, but today it has been launched into space. They flutter to the ground unharmed physically, but the shell shock leaves an unforeseen side effect.

"I just can't seem to figure out why those chickens aren't laying eggs" Mom would say at the dinner table. Well lets just say that revelation on the matter was soon forth coming.

It was a beautiful summer day and we we engrossed in the joy and bliss of being hidden on the other side of the Barn. Some how we believe that the barn was some secret barrier that drowned out sight and sound. We were anxiously engaged in our new favorite pass time oblivious to our surroundings. Let me just say the sight of Mom coming around the barn dressed in overalls, large rubber boots and carrying a large garden tool, screaming, and never looking angrier. Well, it is a sight that drives the loyalty out of any child. It literally took us seconds to reply "Dad told us we could". I think she was waiting for him on the door step that night when he got home from work. I don't remember him getting in trouble, but I do know, that was the last day we ever launched a chicken. Life is good.