Paul Alton MBA

We were still in Edmonton.

Ezekial was still in the hospital. Juanita had spent the night with him. Nick was at work. Rebekah, Ansel, Eliana and I went to the nearby suburb of Sherwood Park and watched the Canada Day parade before going to the hospital to see Zeke. His breakfast came with a Canadian Flag.

Ezekial was discharged in the afternoon when the tests from the morning showed enough of the Chemo–icals had left his body. In the evening Nick, Rebekah, Ezekial and I went to watch the Canada Day fireworks. A couple of years ago we had taken the LRT across the river and got off near the high level bridge and watched the fireworks from the legislature grounds. That was the first year for the graphics display on the side of the high level bridge and we had a good view of the graphics and the fireworks coming up from the river valley below. However it was really crowded and you had to stand in the crowd. No room to sit.

This year we drove to the hospital and used the parking pass that they purchased for being at the hospital so much and then we walked the six or seven blocks to the south end of the high level bridge. We walked down the east sidewalk toward the bridge, but the bridge was about to be closed to traffic and there was no good spot to spend during the fireworks. Nick and Zeke walked down a staircase into the brush beside the approach to the bridge. When they arrived on the other side we decided that was a viable option so Becky and I went down the stairs and followed the path under the bridge and the trail back up the other side.

We found a spot in the grass and set up our chairs. A light rain started and we put on our ponchos so were quite cozy and, other than a power pole in the way, we had a great view of the spectacular fireworks.

We were next to the gate for the tracks for the old street car system that crosses the bridge during the day. There was a city cop stationed there and he came in really useful. Latecomers would show up and look like they were going to stand or set up chairs in front of people already there and the cop would intervene and say that they shouldn’t block the view of people who had waited so long. Can’t help but think that without the intervention there would have been no shortage of “unconscious”* people spoiling things for others. When we got home, Juanita happily reported that she had seen the Mills Woods fireworks by standing on the edge of the bathtub in the ensuite for the master bedroom. She would not have enjoyed the intermittent drizzle of our location.

The next day, Saturday, we drove back home to Meadow Lake. We stopped in Lloydminster and bought more goldfish and came back through Turtleford and Glaslyn and avoided the construction south of Loon Lake. It took about the same amount of time as the other route without any risk of construction delays.

When we got home, Saturday, we set the bags of fish in the pond to equalize temperature for half an hour and then went back out to release them into captivity. We had goldfish in the pond for several years and they were getting quite big, but none survived last winter. Last winter was relatively mild here, but the water level in the pond was lower than normal and there was less snow cover so the ice took away all their water. We bought replacements in Edmonton, but after a couple of weeks something ate them all. Or almost all. A week after the mass disappearance one very nervous goldfish showed itself with brief excursions from under the foliage on the pond edge. Guessing the cause of the disappearance was a bird of some sort (Loon? Kingfisher? Other?) I purchased a large plastic owl in Edmonton and set it on one of the rocks at the time of release of the latest batch.

Sunday morning Juanita went down and counted the newbies and threw some food out. They were all there and shunning the survivor from the previous batch. After church we went over to Debbie and Ernie’s for lunch. While were eating lunch something not afraid of plastic owls was apparently also eating. No fishes to be seen. Three weeks later it looks like a little over half of them survived and will come out from the weeds when you yell “it’s feeding time”. They nervously dart out to where the food usually lands and then leave for less open spaces.