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First, before I get going.. a brief warning to my readers who don’t know much about me.  This will be a religious post.  The purpose of my blog is to write up whatever I please… If you don’t like religious stuff then just skip it, or read it and ask my if you have any questions about what or why I wrote it.

I’m surprised the payforaprayer.com domain is not taken.  By some catholic.  Who wants to charge people for praying for them or someone else.

OK, I hope this post doesn’t offend anyone… but I’m going to rant a little bit about the Catholic church and how surprised (or not surprised?) I am about something.

Last Sunday there was a mass for my dead Uncle.  He died about 6 months ago or so, and the mass marks the "end of mourning" when my Aunt is now allowed to start wearing colors besides black.  I’m not sure exactly how it all works, but I was told this mass is the public "showing" that the mourning period is over. 

Anyway, so we all went to this mass.  Even my communist Aunt and Uncle went.  Of course, he sat in the back row and I’m pretty sure I saw kleenex in his ears.. but he was there.  That’s how important this mass apparently is.  It’s a family thing, so all the immediate family and many of the extended were there.

Great.  So what has that to do with payforaprayer.com?

Well, we (Cara and I) were told that this mass was for our dead Uncle.  Of course, we were expecting some kind of prayer to happen or some ceremony or whatever.  Sure enough, during the "we remember [insert name here] in prayer" part of the Mass the Priest mentioned my Uncle’s name.  (It was in French, so I have no idea what he actually said, but I know it was during the prayer part, as I’ve been to many many catholic masses and they’re pretty much all the same regardless of the language.)

After the mass, we were back at my Aunt and Uncle’s for lunch and chatting about the mass. I don’t remember how the subject came up, but we started talking about money and giving to the church. Oh ya, my Aunt asked if we gave anything for the offering basket.  Before we could really go much further in the discussion, my Uncle mentioned that the priest was PAID to mention my dead Uncle’s name in his prayer.

Paid. 

Yup.  As in my Aunt (the grieving one) had to PAY the Priest to put in a good word to God for her dead husband during his prayer.

Amazing.  I have a really hard time holding back my tongue against a religion that requires PAYMENT to a Priest for a prayer.

While I realize that for most people this "Mass stuff "is pretty much just "tradition".. it saddens me even further that none of my family here know they can simply talk to God themselves.  No need for a priest.  No need to pay a priest.  According to the Bible, God sent his son Jesus to earth so that he would die for us… and it was that action that restored our previously broken relationship with God.  Thus, we can now simply talk directly to God and he will hear us, since his son Jesus stands "in the gap" between us (sinful people) and God (sinless).  Jesus even went one step further and modeled "The Lords Prayer" for us, as a guide on how to pray.

There is no need to pray to Mary. Or to St. Martin.  And no need for payment to any Priest to pray on our behalf. 

My relatives tell me that the priests charge a fee, because they need to make enough money to eat. To them, it’s basically just a business transaction – nothing religious.

I guess I’m not Corsican enough yet, because I’m not able to just look at the catholic church, shake my head, and then move on with my day.  No.  The Corsican people need to know the truth about God, not just the traditions of a church.

And now, back to our regularily scheduled blogging. 

No, my transformer isn’t here yet. My software beta testing is going very well – only a few big bugs found and lots of little ones.  I’ve been keeping some pretty long hours, and getting a bit run down.. but there’s only one big problem left and then I think it’s ready for release.  And then hiring translators, and then redoing the website, and then the order system, and then the integration of my credit card merchant account, and then I’ll start adding on all the other features people have been suggesting… phew! 

My Aunt suggested that I should spend a bit of time outside each day. "Maybe getting firewood", she says. 

We have a nifty fireplace here that actually is designed for heating the place.  The temp is finally getting a bit chilly, so I think I’ll maybe go find some wood and see about making some fire.  I feel so rustic, living in a place that uses WOOD for heating.  Sheesh, do I have a city-boy’s heart or what?

I tried to explain that in our house in Vancouver there is a wood fireplace, but it’s for decoration. You can’t really use it for heat.  It’s for those little logs you buy at the gas station where you light the packaging and it burns in 2 hours and makes a nice cozy little ’show’ fire.  I think they might think we’re a little nuts.

Actually, they were quite surprised.  My cousin was somewhat shocked, in fact.  He told me that the normal image of a Canadian is someone who wears a lumber jacket, heats his house with fire, has sled dogs, and raises beavers for meat.  Oh ya, and we all hunt cariboo, elk, and moose. 

That’s ok.  Before I got to France I thought they were all nuts.  Now I see it’s only a few of them.  So it’s only fair we each have our own stereotypes. 

heh.

Hey, if you’re read this far yippee!  Here’s your prize.  Let me know, by posting a comment, what you’d like me to write about.

And Ros, I haven’t forgotten about you.  I’ll reply to your email about adsl soon!  I promise! 

No, there isn’t a turkey or chicken (or savage pig — inside joke) roasting in the oven.

I’m referring to the software that I have been killing myself to program, for the past 2 months.  It is almost done.  Between myself and two hired programmers, we’ve almost finished it.  Almost ready to go out for testing to the beta testers.. who hopefully won’t find too many bugs or problems.

I’m very excited about this, because it is the culmination of over a year of planning and a LOT of hard work. Plus, once it’s done I’ll have a lot more time to spend exploring Corsica.  Well.. that is until my workaholic perfectionist tendancy kicks in and I start thinking of the many many ways I can improve the software even more…  Actually, I already have a big list going for adding additional features/functionality.. but I’m really going to try hard to at least take a few weeks "off" and not think about anything more then bug fixes. Wish me luck!

Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know.. because I’m very excited.  All that’s left is integration of the new licensing and copyright mechanism (so people will stop stealing from me!), and a few minor bugs.  Then it’s out the door for public testing, and hopefully in a few weeks.. public release!

Oh.. crap.  Then I have to update my sales website, fix my order system, transfer about 3000 licenses to the new system, and then deal with the (hopefully not huge) deluge of customers with problems…  oh ya.. and of course let’s not forget my other business, which also happens to deal with a zillion web hosting customers who seem to always have urgent problems that must be fixed RIGHT FREAKING NOW BEFORE THE WORLD ENDS!  Good grief.  I always laugh when I read a helpdesk ticket from some customer who is freaking out because he can no longer log into his shopping cart system, that he installed but somehow now expects us to support.

Ahh… but life is good.  Working from "home" on software of my own sure beats driving 1.5 hours to downtown Vancouver to see myself being billed out for an hourly rate that is more then 10 times what I was making.

Speaking of which.. I was thinking the other day (sadly, this happens only a few times per week).. actually I was more "reflecting" then anything else…  and I realized that I now kind of understand Dave (my step-dad) a little better.  I remember talking to him once, a long time ago when I was his helper for a summer and brought bricks up ladders to high places and stirred thick cement in a wheelbarrow.. about how he was self-employed.  He told me he always has been.. and always will be.  At the time, I couldn’t understand that.  I figured, if times ever got tough, then how hard would it be to go and work for someone else, either on a contract basis or directly? After all, if you need money you have to work to get it, right?

Now I understand.  Having been totally my own boss now (self-unemployed) for only about a year, I think I’d rather have another kidney stone then work for someone else ever again. The concept of working *for* someone else just makes my whole body start to shake and sweat start to form on my forehead. Even the *thought* of working for "the man" again makes me panic.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I am confident I’ll never get another paycheck without my own signature on it.

Hi everyone,

The latest news is that it turns out I’m a moron. Sure, this is no surprise to many of you.. but it’s an absolute letdown to me. I had no idea! 

No, seriously… here’s the story.  Before we left for Russia in August, I checked 3 or 4 of the "wall wart" power transformers that we were shipping to Corsica, to see if they would work with the different electrical system in Europe.  All the ones I checked showed they would work fine with 220v/50hz power, so I just figured (assumed) that all of them would work.

Wrong, Mr Smart Guy. (Also known as Mr. Perfect, Mr. "The Great", Mr. Wonderful, and sometimes Mr. Amazing.)

The ONE power plug that we actually need… doesn’t work with the electrical system over here. This is the one for my wireless router.. which is needed to "split" our internet line so Cara can have a connection, our VoIp phone can have a connection, and I can have a wireless connection for my laptop (so I can work somewhere besides this damn couch!), etc…

After visiting no less then 5 different electronics stores here on the island, I realized that it just not something I can buy here. Most of the store owners looked at me like I was nuts. Knowing they couldn’t possibly know this to be true, I realized their look actually indicated they didn’t know what I was talking about.  (Yes, there is a subtle difference!)  It appears that not many people move to Corsica and are stupid enough to forget the necessary step-down power transformateur (nice French accept I have, eh?) to make their critical electronics equipment work.

(A step-down power transformer, for those of you who don’t know.. is what converts the electricity here in Europe to work with any electrical devices that need the same type of power from North America.  For any Daystar folks who are reading my blog.. I basically need one of those heavy little white/black things we used for all our concerts in Russia to plug into their power.  Yes, the same little device that continously electrified the sound board and gave me a thrilling shock each time I touched anything metal on it.)

So.. after searching a few online French websites, I found what I needed.  It only would cost 76 Euros, plus 10 for shipping.  That’s over $100 USD. No thanks.  For 10 euros more I can buy a brand new router.

So I checked out English websites, and found the exact same transformer for "only" $9.95 USD plus $30 shipping to France.  A better deal.

To make a long story short, in about 4-6 weeks, after this 5 pound transformer brick arrives, we’ll have our internet phone working, Cara will have her own computer/email, and I’ll be able to get off this couch and work from anywhere in our "house" (even outside!).

I hope everyone is doing well. 

No, the title of this post doesn’t make any sense.  But hey, it’s a little like me that way. 

So let’s see. I haven’t updated in a while and I’m sure you’re all wondering how things are going.  Did I make it back home? Did I get swallowed by a big whale on the ferry ride back from Marseille? 

Actually, things were pretty uneventful.  The Pascal Paoli boat was a lot smaller then the first one I took, so there were even fewer places to sleep.  The shipping company forced me to "upgrade" to a "sleeper chair" since, due to boating regulations for boats of this small size. (There must be a seat for everyone, etc.)  The sleeper chair is actually nothing more then a reclining (kind of) chair similar to the ones you find in economy class on an airplane.  Not exactly a model of comfort.

Thus, I opted to "recline" on the floor in the middle of the hallway, thank you very much. It was not a good sleep, but sufficient for the price. (7 Euros for the "sleeper chair" I did not use.)

Upon my return home, I unloaded the boxes and then proceeded to spend the rest of the week with my sister-in-law and niece.  What fun!  We had a great time, and it was wonderful to see them. Amy is growing fast and it was great to spend some time with her. One of the things I think I’ll "regret" (I use the word loosely) about moving abroad is not seeing my nieces and nephew very much. I miss them a lot, so it was nice to see Amy.

I got stung by a wasp. On my tongue. Yes, it hurt.

We went to a beach somewhere and I was eating a "meat patte" sandwich (a baguette smothered with patte), but there were a lot of wasps.  We moved our picnic over a bit further down the beach, but they followed us.  Anyway, I wasn’t paying attention when I took a bite… and thought that the "crunchy" I felt was just the bread since it was a little overcooked. At first I thought maybe I had just bitten my tongue, but it’s impossible to bite the *middle* of your tongue.  (Go ahead and try it now, if you want..)

No.  It wasn’t a bitten tongue and it wasn’t a piece of bread crust.  It was a wasp.  It must have stung my tongue just before I ate it, because immediately after that chew my tongue really started to hurt.  Then it hurt a lot more, and that’s when I realized I just ate a wasp.  After it stung my tongue.

So there you go. How many of you have had a stung tongue before?  I don’t even know if there are hospitals on this island. Good thing I’m not allergic, eh?  OK, I do know there is one hospital.  In Bastia, which is 500,000 curvy road turns away from where we were.  Try driving *that* with a tongue hangling out of your mouth.  (Hangling is my word for "hanging" and "dangling".  Do you like it?)

Speaking of words.  Oh never mind.  I’ll save it for a future blog.  This is enough for now.  Apparently some of my readers (Jeff!) prefer shorter entries since their attention span is akin to my wife’s.  (Um.. short. About as long as it takes to read this sentence.)

And yes, I’ll try to write more frequently. Sorry about the long delay…. 

I’m sitting here in the port of Marseille, and figured I’d click on my laptop to see if maybe there was a stray internet connection.. and sure enough there is. Strange, considering there isn’t much around here and wifi radio connections aren’t really designed to travel a long way. Maybe the fish have a transmitter?

Anyway, I spent the day wondering around Marseille and just generally having a good time. Cara would say I was "shuffling", which I suppose is a rather Corsican way of walking around when you have no particular reason to do so or place to go. I did lots of people watching, which was fun because there are a lot of interesting people here. I happened to be in a main public square at about 12:00pm, and that was when lunch "started".  The square (and the many surrounding outside eating places quickly filled up with the local worker-bees who seem to relish the minutes. Lunch at most places for most people consisted of either a pasta dish or meat. Always two courses (an "appetizer" and then main course), and then a dessert. For drinking, the most common was red wine, then white wine, and then beer.  Few people drank water, although "perrier" was the choice when water was delivered.

Lunch lasted about 1.5 hours for most people.  Quite a long time, especially to someone like me who (when I worked in the corporate world) rarely took a lunch break at all — preferring to eat at my desk so I could leave that much earlier.  Here, I get the feeling that "work" is a lot different then back in North America. It appears people who work together are actually "friends" of a sort. They work together, have lunch together, and from what I understand from our cousins, many of them get together "socially" after work, too. 

One thing I did find a bit funny yesterday was when I was in the shipping place’s office. I was there when "Elodie" arrived, and the first thing she did was "make the rounds" and give a "kiss kiss" greeting to every person in the office (7 of them, including the boss who had his own glass cage office). Now I don’t know about you, but that would really drive me nutty if I had to do that every work day. Not to mention that in Canada or the US you’d quickly get slapped with a T & A lawsuit if you even *thought* about approaching a girl in the office for a "kiss kiss" good-morning.

Anyway, I’m sitting in the van right now and preparing to have a bit of a snack. My aunt gave my some "Terrine de Chevreuil aux Airelles", which I think is some kind of goat patte.  Not sure, but I bought a baggette (bread) and Cara packed a knife for me.. so that will be my nice snack and perhaps dinner if I like it.

I arrive in Bastia at 7:00am tomorrow, so hopefully I’ll get a good night sleep tonight. Wish me luck finding a plug!