Journal: News & Comment

Scritch scritch

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I spent a good portion of this afternoon wedged up in the attic of our house, running wires back and forth for our rearranged TVs and computers. (No, I don't have a wireless network yet.) The house is a duplex version of a Vancouver special, with a very shallow attic, so moving around up there is a bit of a contortionist act, with fibreglass insulation as a bonus.

It reminded me of a day some fifteen years ago when I was working with my childhood friend Chris, who ran his own burglar alarm installation company. One day during a summer heat wave, Alistair and I went with Chris on a job to install alarm wiring in the newly built headquarters of the B.C. Wildlife Rescue Association. Outside it was over thirty degrees Celsius. In the attic, full of blown-in fibreglass insulation, it must have reached forty. I had to go in for close to an hour, wearing head-to-toe coveralls and a face-mask filter.

When I finished, we drove to the 7-Eleven nearby. I drank a full Super Big Gulp in less than two minutes.

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