That's Life

To all my Canadian readers: Happy Thanksgiving!

Sorry I’ve been quiet. Don’t expect things to change. I’ll try to write more, but I’ve been crazy busy.

<-My desk is marginally organized!

So I’m still in flight training, back in June I passed my PPL (Private Pilot License), so I was now a licensed pilot. I then spent some time learning how to fly in controlled airspace as well as learn how to handle long cross-countries.

After that, I learnt how to fly a conventional geared aircraft. For those of you who aren’t familiar with those, they are a lot more challenging to fly, though much more fun.

After that, I did some Advanced Time and Experience, in which I do longer cross-country flights (my longest was seven and a half hours) as well as night flying.

 <-Climbing above the clouds east of Edmonton.

<-The town of Red Deer as seen from the sky

Back in June I started ground school to get my CPL (Commercial Pilot’s License). To fulfill the requirements, I have to receive 80 hours of classroom time (to put that into perspective, an average college course is 32 hours of classroom time). I finally finished that last week. We split it into two courses, CPL ground school, in which we learn meteorology, general knowledge (theory of flight, etc.), air law, human factors and navigation. The second class is CPL Aircraft Systems, in which we learn about all the system in our aircraft (control systems, electrical systems, hydraulic systems, pressurization, engines, etc.).

 <-If you are unfamiliar with what a "conventional gear" is, this is the one I did most of my training in.

So I wrote the school’s Systems and CPL Ground School exams (two separate exams), I got 90.7% on the systems exam, but I haven’t received my mark for the CPL Ground School one yet. Assuming I do well on both, I will get a letter of recommendation from the school, and I will be able to drive down to Calgary to write the Transport Canada CPL written exam (CPAER). Yeah, I’m stressed.

 

 <-This guy came to visit one morning, out of the blue.

Once I’ve written, and passed my exam, I will begin ground school for my instrument rating (It seems there is no end of ground school in sight). Eventually I will get my instrument rating, which allows me to fly in clouds, with no visual reference outside.

Now for some more unfortunate news. I am sad to announce that due to lack of finances, I will not be able to go to Chad this Christmas. Thank-you all for your prayers and support. I will contact those who have provided me with financial support to discuss what they want done with their donation.

Thank-you all and blessings.

Î- In Slave Lake, the farthest from home I've ever flown.

Monsters In The Dark

Mom, you might not want to read this.

    When I was young, I was scared of the dark. I’ve grown out of that, I’ve learnt that there is nothing to be afraid of. There are no monsters hiding in the night.

    Usually.

    You see, the proper name for a storm cloud is Cumulonimbus Cloud. In weather reports, this is abbreviated to CB. In aviation circles, we jokingly refer to CBs as Cessa Breakers, because if you fly into one, you will most likely die. No matter what kind of plane you fly.

    So the other night, I was flying. Flying at night is fun, you can see all the towns clearly, and the air is usually smooth.

    But there are monsters hiding in the dark.

    On this particular flight, the weather forecasts looked good. The skies were going to be clear, and the winds calm.

    As I was cruising, I saw some clouds ahead. I didn’t mind too much, they looked higher than I was.

    Then I saw lighting. The frequency of the lighting grew and grew, and soon I was surrounded. I called Edmonton Center, and was informed that there were many CBs forming, and they were moving fast. I was stuck. No matter where I went, there was a CB.

    I couldn’t see the CBs, there was no moon, so I had to rely on Center letting me know where the storms were so that I could get around them. I honestly don’t think I’ve ever been that scared in my life.

    There really were monsters hiding in the dark.

    P.S. In case you were wondering, I did make it home. Center did their job, and I got around the storms.

99 Days 'till Christmas!

Well, not really. I'm about two days lat. Still, 96 days 'till Christmas! (Hmmm... Doesn't quite sound the same...)

Anyways, That is a reminder, Christmas is coming soon, and though I haven't been writting much (sorry!), I'm still working towards Africa this Christmas.

But, I'm very low on funds. Please, If you are willing and able to support me, please, comment or e-mail me at dominicvilleneuve1995@gmail.com

Thanks-you guys (and gals) so much!

Dominic

P.S. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here.

50 Shades Of Green

I don’t like living in the prairies.

If you live in the prairies, have lived in the prairies, or generally like living in the prairies, good for you. But I don’t like it.

You see, I was born in the mountains. Here in the prairies, I feel exposed. Also, there’s nothing to do here…

In the mountains, I can go on adventures. Here, not as much. Generally speaking, I can’t really go anywhere other than the roads, because farmers don’t like it when I trample their crops.

In the mountains, I can go wandering in the woods and no one cares because no one farms there.

But anyways.

I went to the highest point around, (a fifty foot hill), and watched the sunset.

It wasn’t a mind-boggling sunset. There weren’t any clouds in the sky, and everyone knows that clouds are needed for those amazing fiery sunsets.

But I went anyways. I parked my car at the top of the hill, got out, climbed on the roof and sat there.

I was a bit early. the sun was still high, but it had turned red.

The colours were fantastic. Who knew that there were so many shades of green?

Every hill, every bump in the fields stretching out before me was a different green. The light danced a different dance on each blade of grass (Or sheaf of wheat or whatever. I don’t really know agriculture very well).

Dust from passing cars had settled in the lower dips, creating quasi-clouds floating on the ground. I was being eaten alive by mosquitos, and my leg was going numb because the roof-rack digging into the back of my knee.

A truck rolls by, covering me in dust.

I go home.

Boredom and Words

So I’m kinda really, really bored, and I randomly felt like writing something, so here you go.

Life’s good right now. I got my private pilot’s license a month and a half ago, I spent a month building hours, doing insanely long cross-countries, learning how to fly in class C airspace (I also had a 737 overfly me at 500 feet), and now I’m learning to fly taildraggers (Which is way too much fun). For those of you who didn’t understand that, I have my flying license, I fly in places with big planes (and had a very big plane go right over my head) and now I’m learning how to fly planes that are really hard to fly (but are a lot of fun anyways).

Also, I have had some donations to my Africa fund, but nowhere near enough, so more donations would make me really, really happy! This trip to Chad is something that God has really layed on my heart, and donations are the only way to make this happen. Please, donate.

Also, my flight school just had flight camps. I was a cabin leader, which was a blast; all the campers were great! (Though one of my campers was older that me…)

I read the entirety of The Chronicles Of Narnia (like, all 7 books) in 6 days. I forgot how good they are. Though I do have a question that keeps bugging me. (Before I go on, warning: Spoiler Alert!) In The Last Battle, They make it clear that Susan is no longer a friend of Narnia. However, at the end of the book, we learn that Lucy, Peter, Edmund, Eustace, Jill, Polly, Diggory, and the Pensieve parents are all dead from a train crash. What we don’t know, is what happened to Susan. Was she with her parents? Is she dead? If so, where is she? If she wasn’t with her parents, what will she do now? She’s an orphan without siblings. Does she come to faith? I guess this is the brilliance of literature. The unanswered questions, the things that leave the readers guessing.

Also, after years of meaning to, I finally signed up to be a blood donor. I kept meaning to, but I kept forgetting when I actually had the chance to do something. Anyways, there’s a clinic in a few days, so I’ve already booked an appointment.

So yeah, I don’t really have an ending to this post, I just wanted to kill half an hour. Mission accomplished.

Actually, here’s an ending:

I was digging through my old files when I found this poem. Apparently I wrote it, but I don’t remember why or when, but based off how it’s written, I’d say it’s from my early high-school years.

Words

They ain’t my thing.

They never have been, and always won’t.

We use words to show our thoughts

But thoughts aren’t words

They’re different.

Completely.

A thought can be an emotion.

A thought can be a picture

But words

Words are marks.

We assign meaning to these marks,

But what about meanings that don’t have marks?

What about home?

That’s more than a building, or a place

A thought or an emotion?

It’s more than either. It’s all and then some

We don’t have a word for it. How can I share it?

Words

I don’t like them

They contain

They hem in

If I can, I won’t use them

because being with you

Is truly the best I can do.

Taking It For Granted

So on Sunday I went to a small town called Brooks to help with some scenic flights.

You see, a friend of mine is off to Zambia for two(ish) years to help with aircraft maintenance as well as probably some flying. To fundraise this endevour he has been offering scenic flights by donation, mostly to give people exposure to what he's going to be doing.

Back to Sunday... He had 90 reservations or so, and had asked the flight school if he could bother planes and instructors (to fly said planes). He also needed people to help calculate weight and balance, brief passengers, help with re-fueling, crowd control, etc.

So that's what I did all day Sunday. It was great fun. But I must admit, the biggest thing for me was the reminder that I'm unbelievably lucky.

You see, many of the passengers (if not most of them) had never been in a small plane before, and were nervous (to say the least) while they were waiting. But once they were back on the ground, the look on their faces reminded me that what I do everyday is one of the coolest things in the world.

I should never take this for granted.

Flowers!

So not everything I do is aviation related, or really has anything to do at all with college...

A couple months ago, my roommate walked into our room with a big bag of potting soil, some pots, and seeds. he had randomly decided that we were going to grow flowers so that we could impress the girls!

I was dubious to say the least, but hey, what's the worse that could happen?

I honestly didn't think that the plants would survive or even sprout, so you can imagine my surprise when I checked on them and saw this.

Success!

Since these photos were taken, we've had even more flowers bloom. Who said college guys can't garden?