<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419</id><updated>2011-12-04T20:20:00.004-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Red Bridge Review</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>18</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-1652276418171478569</id><published>2011-12-04T19:52:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2011-12-04T20:20:00.019-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Nan</title><content type='html'>Holy shit... I have a blog.  Kinda forgot about it it seems.  Been almost a year since I've written anything in it.  Thought about waiting a couple more weeks to write just so I could say it has been a year, but that would feel like cheating somehow.   Well, in the last year, I guess the biggest change is the birth of my second daughter Kaedence Raine. I would post a picture, but I'm writing this on my phone and am not sure how to do so yet.  If I figure it out I will.   She is the most beautiful baby you'll ever see.   She is now 8 months old, and just about ready to crawl, once she gets the idea of opposite leg and arm down.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as one precious life is really getting going, another is ending.   My grandmother (Nan, as she's known far and wide), is passing on slowly before our eyes.   On November 23rd, she called us saying she wasn't feeling well and wanted to go to the hospital.  Turns out, she had a heart attack.  In the last year she'd had a few, and we think she's kinda been having them right along but not telling anyone...at least not everytime.  At the hospital, it also was discovered that she had pneumonia.   Now, of all the times I've seen Nan in the hospital for various things, this was the first time I've seen her appear scared and anxious.  Going in, I figured she'd be in for a day or two or whatever.  Now, it doesn't look like she will come out.  We go in daily, and take Kaede so she can see her great - nanny as much as possible, and also so Nan can see her.  To see a piece of the future that wouldn't be here if not for her.  And every day she gets weaker, and sleeps more.  Sometimes unable to talk loud enough even when up close.   My brother lives in Alberta, and thankfully, through the magic that is the Internet and iPhones, we've been able to Skype with him so Nan could see and talk to him and his two children.  Each morning, I wake wondering if she has died in the night, and each day she hasn't.  I wonder sometimes, why she keeps going.  Is it even a choice, as we often like to think of it?  When we reach a certain point in our health, can we somehow will ourselves to let go?  I don't know.  Maybe.  She's lived what most would consider a good long life.  Living independently up until now.  Lived to see 15 or so great grandchildren at 93 years old.  May she find rest and peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-1652276418171478569?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/1652276418171478569/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2011/12/nan.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/1652276418171478569'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/1652276418171478569'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2011/12/nan.html' title='Nan'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-8685436204623316251</id><published>2010-12-21T17:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-12-21T17:27:35.954-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Choose to be nice?</title><content type='html'>I had a patient the other day (week, month.. I dunno.. time runs together) and when I received her, the facility I picked her up from told me she used to be the nicest person, but since she got sick, that she had become mean. And she was. Everyone was blaming her condition on her change. So I got thinking, if someone was a complete asshole before falling ill, then became the nicest person, it`s often attributed to an awakening of sorts. That they suddenly become aware of they way they were, and now want to try to right wrongs and live a good life from then on. If someone who was always pleasant, then falls ill and becomes miserable, it`s sometimes attributed to the disease. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got thinking, maybe the meanie who became nice did not choose to, but is actually suffering from the disease process, and the niceness is a side effect and not a conscious change of personality. I have absolutely nothing to back this theory up, but I found it interesting to think about. Do we chose how we are, or is it ingrained in us and we really have no choice in whether we are nice or not?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-8685436204623316251?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/8685436204623316251/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/12/choose-to-be-nice.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/8685436204623316251'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/8685436204623316251'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/12/choose-to-be-nice.html' title='Choose to be nice?'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-2562201501129979691</id><published>2010-10-12T18:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-10-12T18:19:00.743-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Aren't firefighters supposed to put out fires?</title><content type='html'>It disgusts me that people would sit back and and just watch when they have means to help someone else in a time of dire need.  It's even worse when those people who are just watching are employed to help people in dire need.  What I'm refering to are firemen who let a family lose their home over $75.  When you watch the video it'll become more clear as to what I am talking about.  There is something wrong with a society when it allows such tragedies to occur over minor technicalities.  What ever happend to reaching out and helping those in need, regardless of their situation?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dJyjNiL4zZg&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not intended to be a slight against fire departments, but against those individuals who were there that day and allowed a familys home be destroyed.  Sure, they were just following "orders", but I believe our moral compass should dictate our actions over another person's directives.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-2562201501129979691?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/2562201501129979691/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/10/arent-firefighters-supposed-to-put-out.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/2562201501129979691'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/2562201501129979691'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/10/arent-firefighters-supposed-to-put-out.html' title='Aren&apos;t firefighters supposed to put out fires?'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-3133864263292550750</id><published>2010-08-03T15:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-08-03T16:40:34.882-07:00</updated><title type='text'>6 months</title><content type='html'>It's been 6 months.  Just when things were looking great, everything was falling into place and according to plan.  We all knew it was fragile, but thre were just a few more cards to go until the house was finished and something shook the earth, and they came down.  Silently.  No one knew what had happened.  At least not until someone opened the door, looked in, and saw the mess of cards lying there.  And as much as we all wanted to, no one could try to rebuild it.  They were a one time use only, and it was over.  A large part of myself... my being... my essence... my very soul, made up those cards, and now with them gone, I can never be complete again.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always been a spiritual person.  My thoughts on religion have and continue to change throughout my life, but I've always believed that we have spirits watching over us... guardian angels, if you will.  Sometimes they appear in other people in our lives, or maybe the thoughts in our head we call "conscience".  It's a sad thing that you're one of mine.  It should be the other way around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Kherrington.  I can't wait to see you again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AscPOozwYA8&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xd0d0d0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_detailpage&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AscPOozwYA8&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xd0d0d0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_detailpage&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/-6cMQ6kBm0k&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xd0d0d0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_detailpage&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/-6cMQ6kBm0k&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xd0d0d0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_detailpage&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-3133864263292550750?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/3133864263292550750/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/08/6-months.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/3133864263292550750'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/3133864263292550750'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/08/6-months.html' title='6 months'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-69205626933035919</id><published>2010-07-31T10:40:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-31T10:42:48.647-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;object width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/7NJqUN9TClM&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xd0d0d0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_detailpage&amp;fs=1"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;param name="allowScriptAccess" value="always"&gt;&lt;/param&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/7NJqUN9TClM&amp;color1=0xb1b1b1&amp;color2=0xd0d0d0&amp;hl=en_US&amp;feature=player_detailpage&amp;fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" allowScriptAccess="always" width="640" height="385"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/object&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-69205626933035919?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/69205626933035919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/07/httpwww.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/69205626933035919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/69205626933035919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/07/httpwww.html' title=''/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-5944887600224340755</id><published>2010-07-15T19:09:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-15T19:24:08.290-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Half Full</title><content type='html'>So, graduation was the other day.  It was nice.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I started this course back in September, I envisioned being more excited than I am.  I've always maintained the "it's the journey, not the destination" type of mentality.  I've always felt a little bitter-sweet when reaching the end of a good book, or even more so on a book series.  But this is different.  Don't misunderstand me, I'm happy that it's over, that I did well, that I can be home more, that I can move on to the next stage of my life, but I'm not feeling the ecstasy that I had envisioned.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of my friends and classmates mentioned to me after I was done all my school testing and knew I was going to graduate, that I didn't seem as joyous as he had expected.  I told him the journey/destination line.  Which is true.  But truth be told, a large part of it is because it's not complete.  Someone's missing.  And she always will be.  I knew I couldn't go home, hold her, and tell her about my accomplishment and have her look at me and smile (or more likely spit up).  And I knew I couldn't hold her at my graduation and have my picture taken with her.  So, I put on a smile, and cheer when I'm supposed to, and laugh when I'm supposed to, and while much of it is real, some of it is forced.  The hardest part, is knowing that this will be the case every day of the rest of my life.  There will be someone missing.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I love you, Kherrington.  I wish you could have been there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-5944887600224340755?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/5944887600224340755/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/07/half-full.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/5944887600224340755'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/5944887600224340755'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/07/half-full.html' title='Half Full'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-729006929168510941</id><published>2010-07-02T11:15:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-07-02T11:31:00.184-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Self High Five!!</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/TC4wNU8iVMI/AAAAAAAAABE/VV3R1_vUCZU/s1600/Diamond_Dallas_Page_669a.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 215px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/TC4wNU8iVMI/AAAAAAAAABE/VV3R1_vUCZU/s320/Diamond_Dallas_Page_669a.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5489378001330263234" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Done!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My school year began on August 30, 2009, and ended on June 29, 2010.  It's been a long haul, away from home two weeks or more at a time, school during the day, study 6-8 hours a night, and no life outside school.  But it was worth it.  On the 12th of July, I'll graduate.  On the 14th I'll wirte the provincial test to be liscenced, on the 9th I have tests for company to complete.... what was this about being done?  lol......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to finding a new groove to fall into.  One that will hopefully allow me to spend time doing things I've missed over the past year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-729006929168510941?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/729006929168510941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/07/self-high-five.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/729006929168510941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/729006929168510941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/07/self-high-five.html' title='Self High Five!!'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/TC4wNU8iVMI/AAAAAAAAABE/VV3R1_vUCZU/s72-c/Diamond_Dallas_Page_669a.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-7741148529680183615</id><published>2010-06-11T20:00:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-11T20:19:27.587-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Responsibility</title><content type='html'>So, last weekend I was driving to Saint John listening to CBC radio and they had a news article on how in the (at the time) last 4 weeks, there had been 4 young children killed by being struck by vehicles in their own yard. The closest of which was in Moncton with an 18 month old being run over by a vehicle driven by a family member.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The report went on to say how new innovations such as proximity alarms and in dash cameras for backing up are becoming more commonplace and will be helpful in reducing these tragedies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agree.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I found it......upsetting, that it seemed that blame was being placed on the vehicles for not being equipped with these new technologies instead of the lack of adult supervision of children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While technology can be a good aid in parenting and safety, or any aspect of life for that matter, it can never replace common sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-7741148529680183615?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/7741148529680183615/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/06/responsibility.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/7741148529680183615'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/7741148529680183615'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/06/responsibility.html' title='Responsibility'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-805093250387647106</id><published>2010-05-27T19:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T20:01:02.084-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Broken Mirrors, Shattered Dreams</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/S_8w2a5xrfI/AAAAAAAAAA8/nZj9OuklJd0/s1600/tattoo.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5476149383398534642" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/S_8w2a5xrfI/AAAAAAAAAA8/nZj9OuklJd0/s320/tattoo.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's been awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's not that I haven't had much to say, quite the opposite. Just didn't want to say it, I guess. This year, that was supposed to be so great and fantastic, will now be known as the worst in my life, as I can not imagine having a worse one. The funny thing is, is that some of my best moments will (hopefully) come from this year as well. But it's lost its shine. It all seems a bit, tarnished, now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm making reference, of course, to my daughter passing before she had a chance at living. Kherrington Faith. That's her name. We kept the name a secret from everyone (with the exception of a 3 year old), thinking it would be the one thing we kept to ourselves. Everyone knew we were going to have a girl so this would be the one surprise that we would be able to give everyone else. And it was fun. Who doesn't like secrets?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unfortunately, we were the ones in for the biggest surprise, when on February 3, 2010, our daughter passed away. Talk about a surprise. I wish I knew what it would be like if she hadn't. If I could hold her and have her squirm in my arms. To hear her cry...to watch her sleep. I'll never know. I'll only know the hurt. And it doesn't go away. Not completely. It's always lurking around the corner somewhere in the shadows.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When people ask if I have children, I say yes. To say otherwise would lessen her memory. Although sometimes I want to say no, to avoid the standard questions that follow, such as how old she is. That's the kicker. I am a father, but I never got to be a dad for my little girl. And that's all I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;I've been putting off blogging because I've been avoiding writing this one. It seemed wrong of me to write about any other subject before addressing this one. And it did hurt, just like I knew it would. I want it to always hurt. It only seems right.&lt;/p&gt;For the memorial service, we kept it small and simple. We had the song Hallelujah played by Amy Anderson on piano with Andrew Bull singing. Thank you guys again, if you should ever read this. I wrote the 3rd and 4th verses as posted below with the 1st, 2nd, and 5th being Cohen's. I'm posting this largely so I'll have an electronic copy should my paper one ever go missing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I've heard there was a secret chord&lt;br /&gt;That David played, and it pleased the Lord&lt;br /&gt;But you don't really care for music, do you?&lt;br /&gt;It goes like thisThe fourth, the fifth&lt;br /&gt;The minor fall, the major lift&lt;br /&gt;The baffled king composing Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah,&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was a time you let me know&lt;br /&gt;What's really going on below&lt;br /&gt;But now you never show it to me, do you?&lt;br /&gt;And remember when I moved in you&lt;br /&gt;The holy dove was moving too&lt;br /&gt;And every breath we drew was Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My world is in endless night&lt;br /&gt;Now that I've lost my shining light&lt;br /&gt;It's cruel that I never got to know you&lt;br /&gt;Born into this world of man&lt;br /&gt;You're life was over before it began&lt;br /&gt;In your name, I cry out Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Though you're gone, I hold you near&lt;br /&gt;In my scarred heart, my dear&lt;br /&gt;I hope you know just how much I love you&lt;br /&gt;I know I'll never hear you laugh&lt;br /&gt;And ours is a mournful path&lt;br /&gt;Our shattered souls cry out Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did my best, it wasn't much&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch&lt;br /&gt;I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool you&lt;br /&gt;And even though&lt;br /&gt;It all went wrong&lt;br /&gt;I'll stand before the Lord of Song&lt;br /&gt;With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;br /&gt;Hallelujah, Hallelujah&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-805093250387647106?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/805093250387647106/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/05/broken-mirrors-shattered-dreams.html#comment-form' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/805093250387647106'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/805093250387647106'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/05/broken-mirrors-shattered-dreams.html' title='Broken Mirrors, Shattered Dreams'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/S_8w2a5xrfI/AAAAAAAAAA8/nZj9OuklJd0/s72-c/tattoo.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-4630072085458142401</id><published>2010-01-16T19:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-16T20:00:40.066-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Bum</title><content type='html'>Cold and hungry with nothing to eat&lt;br /&gt;I can only wish for shoes on my feet&lt;br /&gt;As I shiver in the snow and the sleet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;People walk by who have enough and more&lt;br /&gt;Those who can buy anything in a store&lt;br /&gt;But can't afford me a look 'cause I'm poor&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And though I beg but just a crumb&lt;br /&gt;They say nothing as though they're dumb&lt;br /&gt;I'm not a man, I'm just a bum&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-4630072085458142401?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/4630072085458142401/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/01/bum.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/4630072085458142401'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/4630072085458142401'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/01/bum.html' title='The Bum'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-3906410694982975020</id><published>2010-01-01T19:03:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-01T19:23:16.461-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Year of Change</title><content type='html'>So, here it is.  Day one of the new year, and it promises to hold some key changes for me.  In a couple of months, my daughter will be born and I will become a parent.  At the same time, I'll be finishing my school time and then putting time in on the trucks and in the hospital.  Hopefully this will lead to graduation in July, and then a new career. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping to a great year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-3906410694982975020?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/3906410694982975020/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/01/year-of-change.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/3906410694982975020'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/3906410694982975020'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2010/01/year-of-change.html' title='The Year of Change'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-1564639187194109563</id><published>2009-11-22T16:47:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-11-22T16:52:09.344-08:00</updated><title type='text'>To Baby G</title><content type='html'>It doesn't matter.  I don' t care if you end up with 2 legs and 3 arms.  I'm going to love you all I can!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Dad&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-1564639187194109563?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/1564639187194109563/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/11/to-baby-g.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/1564639187194109563'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/1564639187194109563'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/11/to-baby-g.html' title='To Baby G'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-4403054615058285047</id><published>2009-08-14T10:39:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-08-14T10:47:13.816-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Free at Last</title><content type='html'>Today was my last day of work at Jolly Farmer's. And boy does it feel great!! In just over two weeks I head back to school for the first time in 13 years. Wow. In the time since I graduated, I could have gone back to school from Grade 1 through 12 and done it all over again (I think that sounds like it could be fun, actually). This time I'm heading to Fredericton to attend the Atlantic Paramedic Academy. That's right boys and girls, this time next year I may be the one in the ambulance with lights and sirens going, so you better get outta the way! It promises to be a challenging year, but I'm up to it. Bring it on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-4403054615058285047?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/4403054615058285047/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/08/free-at-last.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/4403054615058285047'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/4403054615058285047'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/08/free-at-last.html' title='Free at Last'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-6450109082864809665</id><published>2009-07-19T18:11:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-19T18:12:52.057-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Let's call it .....Ka</title><content type='html'>Thought this was an interesting story.  Enjoy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/31994977/ns/today-today_people/?GT1=43001"&gt;http://today.msnbc.msn.com/id/31994977/ns/today-today_people/?GT1=43001&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-6450109082864809665?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/6450109082864809665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/07/lets-call-it-ka.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/6450109082864809665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/6450109082864809665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/07/lets-call-it-ka.html' title='Let&apos;s call it .....Ka'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-4616297313367288941</id><published>2009-06-12T19:05:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T19:14:32.182-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Love this article. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/feisty-senior-sticks-it-to-grizzly/article1175588/"&gt;http://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/feisty-senior-sticks-it-to-grizzly/article1175588/&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I find it interesting that doing the opposite of what is recommened (curl into a ball and pray, protecting the back of your neck) may be what saved their lives.  I think it says alot about standing your ground and fighting back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope the bear is okay too, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-4616297313367288941?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/4616297313367288941/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-this-article.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/4616297313367288941'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/4616297313367288941'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/06/love-this-article.html' title=''/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-955141742653921491</id><published>2009-04-20T16:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-04-20T17:20:49.671-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Commercials</title><content type='html'>Maybe this shouldn't've ( &lt;--  How do you like that double contraction?  That's shit they don't teach in school) bothered me, but it did.  So here goes:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cheerios.  Yes, the cereal.  Some time ago, I first saw an ad for Cheerios with a British couple where the fellow states how they are healthy for you, and his wife took offense thinking that he was calling her fat.  All in all, not my favorite ad, probably because the guy can say nothing right which seems to be a common theme in TV ads, but I like the accents.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9B2_LEoEb2A"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9B2_LEoEb2A&lt;/a&gt; (sorry, couldn't find the whole ad, but you'll get the point)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night, I saw the same commercial, but noticed something different.  The British accents were gone.  They had dubbed over the ad with new actors, and the box looked different.  I thought it odd, and checked to see what station it was on, and it was coming out of Georgia. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-IZ9CL4phPk"&gt;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-IZ9CL4phPk&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I just thought it funny that they would go through the trouble of changing the voice rather than subject the American audience to a British accent.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I'm going on about commercials, anyone ever see the Brita ad where it shows a glass on a table, then a toilet flushes off screen at which point the glass drains and refills, as the toilet would?  The voice over then says that tap water and toilet water come from the same source. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really?!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I built my house, I had two wells dug: One for drinking, and one for everything else.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course it comes from the same source, but it doesn't go to the toilet first, and then to your tap.  And even if it did, the water in the tank is still perfectly fine, it is just the water in the bowl that you would have to worry about.  However, with their logic, you may as well fill your Brita water filter with water from the toilet bowl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I do use a Brita filter pitcher.  I just don't like it when companies are intentionally misleading like that, but I guess if you're gullible (  &lt;---Interesting note: I looked 'gullible' up in the dictionary to check the spelling and it wasn't there) enough to fall for it......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just as a closer, I miss TV not having station identifiers in the corners of the screen, and I also don't much care for when they have the end of one show run into the beginning of the next show by showing them concurrently for a few seconds just to squeeze in more ad time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-955141742653921491?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/955141742653921491/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/04/commercials.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/955141742653921491'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/955141742653921491'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/04/commercials.html' title='Commercials'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-9016825466408829175</id><published>2009-02-15T06:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-15T07:47:24.013-08:00</updated><title type='text'>carpe diem quam minimum credula postero</title><content type='html'>&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;Seize the day and place no trust in tomorrow.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What if tommorow never came?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was around this time of year, back in 1995 that my grandfather (grampy), John W. Craig passed away. I grew up in a trailer on his farm not far from where I live now. In fact, I drive by it everyday and it saddens me to see the farm being turned into a sub-division. I miss grampy dearly and think of him often and how fortunate I was to have lived so close to my grandparents. My father, who was a long haul truck driver for most of my life asked me once who my father was. My response was "Grampy".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now that I'm older, I realize that I could have spent so much more time with him. Getting to know him and learn from him. But it is too late now. Towards the end, his mind started to go. He would talk and sometimes it did not make sense. Some family seemed to shy away or apologize for him when he was like this. That saddened me. I remember sitting at his kitchen table as he was rambling, and his eyes.......&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His eyes had life in them. I believe he still had his mind, it just would not work for him. I saw love, anger and frustration in those eyes. I think he knew what he wanted to say, but could not. And I am sure he knew he was scaring people, making them uneasy to be around him. I cannot remember what he was saying back then, but I listened and I think he liked that. I do remember what was going through my head. I was mad at myself for not listening to him sooner. Why is it that we wait until it is too late to listen, to speak, to love, to forgive?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Grampy, I love you and miss you. I hope you are proud of me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You would think that after he passed away, I would realized how short life is, and how little time we really have with one another. Especially someone who has 65- 70 years on you. In January of '02, I was living in Ontario. I came home for a visit. Just by chance, I met my great-grandmother in town as she was there for a doctor's appointment. I spoke to her for a few minutes and that was it. I thought to myself that the next time I am home, I will have to visit her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She died a few weeks later. I was back in Ontario. I feel grateful for that chance encounter, and resentful that I did not take full advantage of it. How much I could have learned from these two people would probably be immeasurable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We only have one life. And it could end at any time. If there is something you need to say, do, create.......do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to go talk to my grandmother (my above mentioned grandfather's wife). I think I will take a recorder.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-9016825466408829175?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/9016825466408829175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/02/carpe-diem-quam-minimum-credula-postero.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/9016825466408829175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/9016825466408829175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/02/carpe-diem-quam-minimum-credula-postero.html' title='carpe diem quam minimum credula postero'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3723298128571101419.post-6718593610236227640</id><published>2009-02-08T16:34:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T16:49:08.097-08:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beginning</title><content type='html'>Everything has one right?  A beginning.  Well, this is the beginning of my adventures in the world of Blogging.  Where it will lead, who knows.  I look forward to having a place where I can express my thoughts and people can choose whether or not they wish to read them.  I'm sure that there will be many posts that will not amount to much more than rambling thoughts and run on sentences.  However, hopefully once in a while, I may produce an idea that may make you stop to think, consider, reconsider, or what have you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I guess what I am saying, is if you are going to read, be prepared for fluff, as well as seriousness.  I think a combination of the two is important to a well rounded life.  I think some people forget that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feel free to challenge my thoughts and beliefs, but do so intelligently (which considering the people who are most likely to read this, I would expect nothing less). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Scott&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/3723298128571101419-6718593610236227640?l=redbridgereview.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/feeds/6718593610236227640/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/02/beginning.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/6718593610236227640'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/3723298128571101419/posts/default/6718593610236227640'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://redbridgereview.blogspot.com/2009/02/beginning.html' title='The Beginning'/><author><name>-Scott</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12853322032820835307</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='24' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_R5Hksyy6oNo/SY94sx-ngKI/AAAAAAAAAAU/SovsT9lPUUc/S220/scott+at+laurel+and+andrew%27s.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
