Wednesday, December 5, 2012


It has been a crazy week.  I've had some issues and they are dragging me down.

Part 1
I have an eternally optimistic happy friend who yesterday promised me that "there is a silver lining," and "this too shall pass."  Then I talked to someone who assured me that "this is only going to get worse" and I should "learn to deal with difficult people, cause there are lots of them and sometimes they have it out for you."
So I went to my lovely, optimistic friend and I said to her, "You lied to me.  This is bad, and it will get worse.  There is no silver lining. So there.  I am going to my office to wallow in self doubt and pity."  And I did.

Part 2
I don't watch a lot of TV, but my one constant show is the Young and the Restless.  I confess.  I DVR it, but I still only see it about twice a week.  That however, is enough to keep me up to date.  On Y&R Sharon has recently discovered that she has a mental illness.  Her therapist told her that sometimes [crazy people] find a touchstone helpful and calming.  A touch stone is an item, or piece of music or video that they continually go back to for grounding.

Part 3
It's possible that I am in need of a touchstone.  My lovely optimistic friend showed me a video clip from you tube this week that I have now watched 12 times.  I am going to watch it again when I put the link here, and probably again before bed.  It makes me happy.  It is calming.  It is my new touchstone.  I think you will like it to -- you don't have to be going nuts to appreciate the magic.  Enjoy.

Part 4
My lovely optimistic friend also delivered gluten free one-bite brownies to my door.  They can't be a touchstone -- I ate the bag already.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Boy humour

This is Boy and his best bud, D.

Don't think they didn't plan this....'cause they did.
This is 14 year old boy humour.
It just is.

Monday, November 12, 2012


I have pneumonia -- I am getting over it, but my ribs still ache and sometimes my breath just goes away.  Like, completely away.  Then I make this knarly sucking-in sound that could be construed as a cough or laugh but either way doesn't really look nor sound quite right.  When I make that sound and hold my ribs, the kids at school look at me and then back slowly away.  My family has grown immune to that sound, so they just ignore me.

Catching my breath has made me think about aging.  I think only really young people and really old people get pneumonia.

I am not young.

I know.

I know because I filled out an online survey today and I had click on the scroll down box to find the year of my birth.  I had to scroll down.  Waaaayyy down.

That proves it.

I am old.

and wheezy.

Sunday, October 14, 2012

I will call him Dougie

this is not my photo -- just a random clip from Google images...

Boy went to buy another lawnmower from a local auction house.  Turns out that it there was a pony auction before the lawnmowers went up on the block.  Boy was very taken with the ponies.  Some were only going for "tens of dollars."

Boy came home with a push lawnmower with deluxe wheels, but no pony.  (Thank heavens!) But he is convinced it would be a great pet.

This is how he tried to convince me:

Boy:  Mom, you wouldn't have believed how cute these ponies were.
Me:  uh huh
Boy:  ...and small, they were really small.
Me:  uh huh
Boy:  small like a dog.  We should get one.
Me:  silent. I give him the look that clearly says "over my dead body."  He does not get the message -- I'll have to work on my "look."
Boy:  It would be so great.  It could pull a cart.  It could pull the cart with my lawnmower in it, so we wouldn't waste so much gas.
Me:  Where would we keep a pony?
Boy:  With Smoke.  Or we could build a wee tiny pen in the shed.  Or Girl's little house.  It could even come in our house sometimes 'cause it'd be small enough. And if you had to take it to the vet, the vet wouldn't have to make a house call, we could just load it in the back of the jeep and take it to town. That would save a lot of money, wouldn't it?  That's a good idea.
Me:  again with the look.
Boy:  If I got a miniature pony I'd call it Douglas.  Dougie for short.  I would love him and squeeze him and call him my friend.
Me:  Really, Dougie is a good horse name is it?
Boy:  Also, Dougie could be chick magnet. Girls love horses.
Me:  ...and just how is that going to go.  Are you going to say, "hey pretty girl, want to see my leetle horsey?"
Boy:  Boy leaves the room --he's got nothing.

Mom -- score 1.

Saturday, September 29, 2012

a nap

Today I had a nap.
A long nap.
The kind of nap that leaves you with drool on your face and the sensation in the back of your throat that means you've been snoring.

I got to have a nap because I didn't have school today (yeah!) and because DH and the kids went to pick up some brake parts for my Jeep.

When I awoke from my 10 min. rest (2 1/2 hours later) I found that they came home with a bit more than brake parts....

Here's the list:
-brake parts
-2 pairs of leather gloves
-1 boot jack
-1 saddle cover
-3 signs that say "Cadillac"
-1 pink coat
-1 pair of pink fuzzy slipper (guess who the coat and slippers are for?)
-a baby bottle for dolls (again, guess who?)
-1 John Deere lawn mower -- a REAL lawnmower, not a toy

How, how does this happen?

It happened because I took a nap instead of riding along.
It is ALL my fault...

Good night.

Wednesday, September 19, 2012

This is me, and Smoke.  His is the big butt with the tail; I'm the big butt sans tail...

This is Smoke and I before we went for ride.

This is me with Smoke.  I love him.

Very much.


Monday, September 10, 2012

As essay about Girl

...well, an essay about Girl and Me.

I'm using the term essay 'cause I sense this might be a long post.  I'm warning you now so that if you have better things to do than ponder my life (mine and Girl's) then you may want to skiddaddle and do that something else that awaits.

When Girl was born I had secret wish that she would grow up to love horses and riding.  I didn't tell anyone, but my heart sang out loud when she first asked if she could take riding lessons.

I have loved horses my whole life.  From about the age of 20 until Girl took an interest a few years ago, I just kept my passion tucked away.   I love going with Girl to the stable.

Sometimes my job is not very nice.  I love what I do but there are just some days that are difficult.  For example, the other day I had to assist CAS as they apprehended a child into foster care for abuse and neglect in the home.   I did what I had to do, but there is just no good in that.

Sometimes shovelling the sh*& at the barn is preferable to shovelling the other kind I occasionally have to deal with.

I also think that it is an honour to serve the great horse(s) in front of me.  To provide a creature with comfort and companionship (and truthfully, receive the same in return) can only be called an honour.

I think Girl would say the same here -- the barn makes even the worst day better.  It doesn't take long after I've picked up a curry comb to find that the worries of the day are gone.  I wonder if the gals who work in the stable realize that they have the best job in the world?

And so, this need of mine to be part of the equine world led to finding a beautiful quarter horse for Girl.  For now, we are leasing him to see if he will be a good "fit" for Girl, but I don't think it will be long before we discover that the fit is perfect.  I  might love him already.  His barn name is Smoke.  The photo above is Girl taking him to the ring for her first ride.  It doesn't look like it in the picture, but she really is floating.  Smoke was a complete surprise to her.  I couldn't help crying when I saw her face when she realized that he was for her.

I'm a little weepy now thinking about it.

Smoke will give her so much.  She can't even possibly begin to imagine how he will affect her life.  I know it, because I lived it my Appaloosa some 20 years ago.  I know because already I see what C and her stable have done for my Girl.  She has learned responsibility, compassion, caring, sportsmanship, facing frustration and defeat, courage and strength.  Learned these things from C and her horses in a way that I could not teach alone.

I look forward to our time with Smoke -- I think maybe he is as good for my heart and spirit as for Girl's.

Wednesday, September 5, 2012


Over the past several years Girl has gotten quite a number of ribbons from her horse shows.  The question of displaying them or stashing them has come up many times.

This is how we solved the problem in her room

I attached rows of string across the transom window above the door in her room.  I just tacked it to the wood.  The back of the ribbons has a little hook that just slips over the string.  I can fit about 5 rows of ribbons across here; at that point we may have to look for a larger room because there is no way Girl will agree to stop trying to collect them....

I have gathered a couple of ribbons for myself and I didn't want them to hang in my room or office.  I got this idea from "google."  (You really can google anything!)

I rolled up the ribbons so just the flowerette shows and put them into a large apothecary jar.  The jar is full so I am done showing...

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Questions of the universe

1.  If you are Boy and it is your first day of high school (gulp) and it is pouring rain, which is more embarrassing -- arriving at school soaking wet OR having your mother show up in her jeep at the bus stop?

2.  Why are all of Boy's socks always inside out in the laundry?

3.  Why is Shout required for ALL of Girl's t-shirts?

4.  Has Girl ever heard of a napkin?

5.  Why, when it is pouring, pouring, pouring rain is the umbrella in the jeep and not in the closet?

6.  Why is sending a child to Grade 9 as traumatic as sending him to Kindergarten?

7. Am I the only mom who weeps thinking about 5 years from now?

8.  Is sending your child to college as traumatic as sending him to Kindergarten, or Grade 9, or more so?

9.  Why does Girl tell me 10 minutes before bed time that she has to read for 30 minutes for homework?

10. Why is there always one pair of underwear in the mama drawer that just doesn't stay where it is supposed to -- why did I pick it from the drawer this morning?

11.  Why was I compelled to share #10?

Thursday, August 30, 2012


Our neighbours have birds.  Not nice song birds, or pretty birds like parrots; theirs are foul (fowl) kinds of birds -- chickens, turkeys and a rooster.

The turkeys stink, but I don't hang out in their back yard to smell them.  I wasn't impressed when they came to my backyard to visit this spring, but Boy put the run on them and they haven't been back.

What I do object to is the rooster.

He is loud.

He can't tell time.  There is none of this early morning cock-a-doodle-doing.  This guy cock-a-doodles ALL day long.  I think he might be blind or something.

It drives me crazy.  I've debated complaining, but I don't know to whom -- do you call the township dog catcher about a rooster?  Can you even have fowl in town?  Is there a fowl department at the town office?

I almost solved the problem earlier this summer...

Cock-a-Doodles came to my house to visit.  He must have got directions from the Turkeys.  I found him wandering around the pool patio.

I sent Boy to chase him away.

Boy offered to shoot him.

And I paused.  for awhile.   before I said "I think shooting roosters in town is frowned upon."

This morning I regretted that decision.  Cocky little bugger.

Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Boy the Plowman

Boy fixed up this tractor last summer.  It's a 1950-something Massey 33.  This summer he took on finding and fixing an old plow from the same era.

He had a harder time with it than planned as one of the shop boys backed over it and broke some essential parts.  Turns out those parts are next to impossible to replace.  We know because the shop boy and my Boy looked for months.  

Boy is also a kijiji addict.  He found a "newer" model of the same plow type on the site, bought it and modified it to fit his plow.  

His goal all along was to take his tractor in the County Plowing match, that was, coincidently to be held on the farm of friends of ours. ( Friends with a real farm, not a big lawn that her boys pretend is a farm so they can buy equipment...)

Boy finished his plow 2 days before the competition, did a practice run to make sure it would stay together, then declared himself fit to compete.  

I was at Girl's horse show so I didn't get to watch, but my friend L sent me these pictures, and Boy gave me details when he got home.

Turns out there were lots of friendly folks to give advice and help out.  DH "coached" and Boy ploughed.  He told me that as long as he didn't come last anything else would be as good as first.  Turns out he did place and got a cheque to prove it.  He claims he's now a "professional" because he's been paid for his "sport."

I told him that he ought to hand that cheque over to his dad for gas and parts, but Boy had an answer for that.  He told me that his dad is now his "sponsor" and he is seeking others to do the same....

When I showed him the pictures that L took, I asked him if he knew she was photographing him.  He said, "no, but it's cool that I've got paparazzi."

Good thing it's a big tractor.  It's needed to support his head.

Tuesday, August 28, 2012

I love this quote.  I found it on Pinterest, and I don't know where it originated or from whom.  It might be my new mantra at home and at school.  Looo-ve it (say it like Oprah).  I think it will cut down on my stress level significantly....

"Your unpreparedness is not my emergency."


Monday, August 27, 2012

Hollywood Treasure

This is Girl at the Saddle Club horse show this weekend.  She is riding a new pony this year named Hollywood Treasure.  His barn name is just Treasure, but there are many (myself included) that just refer to him as Trouble.

Because he is.


He is just a young guy, only 5 years old, and just learning.... everything.  Everything, including manners.  He likes to nip or bite and his favourite trick is to step on your toes.  You have to watch every end of him.  Girl takes it in stride, gives him a wee pop on the nose if he bites and continues on about his care as if nothing ever happened.

Me, I wallow in my resentment if he has forgotten his etiquette.  I wonder, often out loud in a very un-cowboy way, "why am I sponging your nether regions when you've just tried to take a chunk of my butt?"  and "why am I rubbing sunscreen on the bald patch by your tail when you've just stomped your hoof by my toes?"

Sometimes I also wonder things like "why am I picking up Trouble's poop while Girl goes to the refreshment booth?"

Girl is the elegant rider, the competitive gamer, the glamorous horsewoman, and I, I am the dust covered, sun burnt, poop-spotted, lowly groom -- who cheers out loud and walks proud when Girl and Treasure ride out of the ring.

Thursday, August 23, 2012

oh my...

Oh my.

Oh my.

I have seen a TV show that has left my mouth agape and my head a shakin'.

I think it's like watching a train wreck.  I am appalled, but can't look away.

The kids DVR'd a show called "Honey Boo Boo" and watched it back tonight.  I was in the office and could hear the TV and the kids laughing.  I had to go watch 'cause I couldn't even believe what I was hearing.  It's a red neck show.  And the sad part it I think it is real.

The line that got me (from mama) ... "them dang youngun's done gone and cut thar toenails in m' dang bed."


This is TV.

Oh my.

Wednesday, August 22, 2012

20 Years!

Today is my 20th anniversary.


I was a baby when I got married.  Really.  Only 21.  I didn't know anything then except that DH was THE one.  He still is.

Funny story.

I was still in university and DH often came down to visit and to get me out of dorm-room hell.  We went to a jewelry store to get a silver tea set for his parent' anniversary (really for his mom -- I'm sure Pops didn't care about a tea set....).  While we were waiting for it to be polished and wrapped we were leaning on the jewelry counter.  Immediately beneath us were engagement rings.  Good marketing, that.

I was looking at them, apparently DH was too because he said in the most romantic way possible "so, do you wanta do it?"  I knew what he meant, said "sure, if you're serious."  He was.  We picked out a ring and lived happily (most of the time) ever after.  The end.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Early morning

It occurred to me as the alarm went off this morning at 6am that is was still fairly dark out.

When the sun is up at 6am it is easy to get out of bed.  I know, I did it one day in early July to get a picture of this little guy.

Every year we have a 'coon family that stays in our big maple tree in the back yard.  If I am sneaky quiet, and early enough I can usually catch one of them peeking out of their nest.  That was the one day all summer that I saw 6am.

It just seems entirely unfair that when I have to get up so early the sun isn't up to greet me.

Monday, August 20, 2012

We spent an extended weekend in Toronto this weekend.  Since we rarely "do" vacations this was a real treat.

I spent a lot of time looking up.

This is the view from our hotel room (looking up, way up).  That just brought back a flash of my childhood -- remember The Friendly Giant "Look up, way up?"
I digress...

This is the base of the CN tower and you can see part of the Skyway walk at the base of the picture.  I noticed construction all over the downtown.  One wonders how any more buildings can fit in the space.

The view looking towards lake Ontario (more of the Skywalk in the picture).

We went to Casa Loma on Saturday.  I'd  never been before.  It is a magnificent building.  This is photo is taken from the front, looking up by the main door.  I think I was destined to live in this castle.  Honestly -- I would have been happy to live in the stables...

This is the roof of the conservatory.  (I haven't figured out how to edit photos on my Blackberry, so you'll have to imagine the vibrant colours of the stained glass.)

If you ask Girl how she liked the trip she will first tell you how much walking we did -- at Wonderland, around the downtown (which included Chinatown, a new experience for both kids -- unsettling for Boy who kept thinking we were going to get mugged.), to the theatres, Union Station  and around Casa Loma.
Girl will also tell you that she loved everything we did -- just not the big city itself.  I get it.  The metropolis of Small Town is enough for me.

Thursday, August 16, 2012


This is Girl's Crown Beta Fish, Bill.  Bill replaces Bubbles the Beta fish who jumped out of the tank to his death this winter (hence the scotch tape holding the lid on the tank this time... lessons learned).

Bill really is a beautiful fish.  I like everything about him except that he lives on my kitchen counter.  That's the only place to put him that a) can stand getting wet because it seems there is always H20 splashed about and b) that Rocky can't find him (also another reason for the scotch tape on the lid.)

Girl loves this fish.  She takes good care of Bill, so he is really no work for me.  In the mornings he is often the first being to say "hello" to me when he wags his wee tail fin looking for breakfast. I like him.

This morning we discovered that Bill wasn't his usually happy, bubbly self (you'll have to picture it) so I hope he isn't ill, or depressed and suicidal as our Bubbles apparently was.

Keep your fingers crossed for Bill.  Girl and I hope he makes it.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

Once again, not parents of the year....

See this....

This is the view from inside my Jeep as we followed Boy down the back road on his tractor.  This is the antique 1953 tractor that he restored last summer.  He was taking it to nearby Small Town to get something put in the tires (for added weight, I'm told).  When he started out for Small Town it wasn't raining, but it was a wee tich overcast.  DH sent him anyway.  We left shortly after and caught up with him just before the torrent hit.  His tractor does not have a cab.
We did throw Boy a jacket -- but neither one of us offered to take over driving the tractor.  I looked at DH and said, "does this make us bad parents?"
"It makes us dry ones," he said with a smirk...

Nope not parents of the year.... again.

(By the way, Boy is just fine.  Apparently he's not made of sugar, so he didn't melt.  And his humour was quite good despite being soggy.   So all is well.  Massey will get goop in the tires and Boy will be set to plow something sometime....)

Monday, August 13, 2012

Boy's Garden

Boy is an entrepreneur.  He's always looking for two things.  One -- to make money and two -- to keep busy.  He's busy.  He's always got a plan and he's always working on something.

In the spring it was maple syrup production.  Though he found that was not a money making enterprise this time around.  He figures he should charge me about $25 for a pint of syrup to make a profit.  I suggested that he give me the syrup and I wouldn't charge him for cleaning the sticky off my ceiling...  We came to a mutually beneficial agreement there.

This summer he decided he would plant a garden.  It's a big garden about 125 feet long by about 15 feet wide.  Boy and Girl planned everything out and have been working all summer on weeding and harvesting.  First we got peas...

What they discovered was that you have to pick and shell ALOT of pea pods to get enough peas for one meal.

Also, if I hadn't been eating them raw out of their bowl there might have been more for supper....

Now they are harvesting potatoes.  They've got white and red ones.

I've been scrubbing the 'taters, chopping them up and putting them in tinfoil with a wee bit o' butter and some s&p.  Then I double wrap the tinfoil and put them on the BBQ for about 30 minutes.  Turning at least 4 times in that time.

I call these the versatile 'taters because they are good for breakfast, for dinner or let them cool and make potato salad.

Fresh from the garden is always best.
Fresh from a garden I don't have to weed or pick -- awesome!

Friday, August 10, 2012

I'm ba-a-ck (say it like Ricky Ricardo...)

I haven't blogged for ages.  I'd like to say I purposely took a blogging hiatus, but the truth is that I've had blog-block.  I think that is a real thing -- it surely is a serious diagnosis.  Ask Freud.

The picture has nothing to do with anything except that looking back through my photo log I found it and it made me want pancakes.

I can't have pancakes because I promised myself that for two weeks I would strictly follow Canada's food guide.  If you have ever tried to do that you would see that there is no room for big stacks of pancakes with Maple Syrup.  Not even if the maple syrup was home made by your own children, from your own maple trees, and finished in your kitchen so that  your ceiling is still possibly sticky.  The maple syrup story can wait for another day, though.  The issue with the food guide is fitting all of that food into one day -- 8-10 servings of fruit and vegetables?  8 servings of grains?  I can't eat that much -- and it doesn't leave any room for the stuff I have been filling up on -- cookies, ice cream cones, popsicles, chips.  Bad stuff.  I'm trying to clean up my habits before fall -- hopefully that will help the waist-line too.  I'll let you know how I make out.

I think my blog-block is over.  Maybe because it finally rained -- the oober-dry recesses of my brain are swelling up and feeling refreshed... I've got lots and lots and lots to share.   Hope you'll drop back to visit and see what we've been up to at Shady Lane.

The teasers:
-LOTS of organizing and cleaning has been happening here
-getting ready for a yard sale...
-the kids decided to plant a garden -- let's talk about potatoes and tomatoes!
-new recipes -- let's talk about a spinach smoothie!

So glad to be back, energized and inspired.

Tuesday, June 12, 2012

How you know...

Conversation with Grade 3 student today:

Child (male child, not that it matters, but I suspect male children notice physical appearance less than girl children -- that's stereo typical of me, I know):  Mrs. Boyd is it humid out?
Me:  Yes, I think it is.
Child:  Like really, really humid?
Me:  I haven't been out, so I can't say for sure.  Does the humidity bother you?
Child:  Well, it's just that your hair is really, really frizzy... (at this point I stopped listening, 'cause I wish I'd worn a pony tail)

So that's how you know it's a bad hair 8 year old (boy) tells you flat out.  Nice.

Signing off
Big (frizzy) Red.

Sunday, April 22, 2012

A quiet Sunday supper

Once upon a quiet Sunday supper we heard a gobble, gobble, gobble from the yard.

It seems some turkeys had come to visit.

Turkeys are ugly!

They gobbled and pecked all around the yard.


Brave Boy gobbled back and chased the turkeys away.

Then Boy and his mama went in and did dishes happily ever after.

(Nope, I don't know where the turkeys came from, but Boy chased them to the neighbour who has the rooster...)  

Saturday, April 7, 2012

New obsession

Hello friends!
Sorry I disappeared for awhile.  I have been busy researching and writing a paper, doing DH's book work for taxes (my FAV job ever! said with EXTREME sarcasm), plus work and the usual mom stuff.  Oh! and some stuff that isn't usual -- like Maple Syrup (I'll tell you that tale another day.)

A teacher friend of mine told me about a great website.  She has found some great craft ideas, but raves that it has everything.  Now, I mentioned this site to a few people and it seems I am new to the planet-of-web because everyone has already heard about it.

In the event that you are from the same too-busy-to-surf planet that I am, allow me to introduce you to Pinterest.

This comes with a serious warning.  Serious.

This is addictive.

Completely addictive.

I have been on 3 times today -- and I don't have time -- remember I am from the real life planet of too-busy-to-surf, so my laundry is waiting as is the shower stall that screams "clean me, Boy has been here!"

The idea of Pinterest is that of a sort of scrap book.  You can "pin" pictures and ideas you find on the web to your own board (I haven't done that -- a little worried about copyright...) to keep ideas organized.  I said, "organized," so you know already why I love it.  I just snoop around the home page, or choose a category I like such as home decor.  The great thing about Pinterest is that the photos are either beautiful or inspring, but also that you can find everything there. I mean everything -- quotes, recipes, crafts, organization tips, photos, hair and nail ideas, clothing... Truly everything.  And it's addictive because a) there is so much to look at and b) it changes all the time as people pin up new items.

Check it out

But be warned -- you'll get totally absorbed.

You might get knocked off your planet for awhile....

But that's okay, it's nice to visit a happy universe once in awhile.

Monday, March 5, 2012

the remote

My school was broken into for the second time in 3 weeks.  Same guys likely...
What a pain.
This time they broke a window and they stole a TV.

But ha!  I still have the remote.  If they wanna watch TV they're gonna have to get up, cross the room and change channels the hard way.

Ha!  Like that (I am flicking my hand from under my chin -- gangsta style).  I get a wee bitta joy from thinking that the thugs might be missing the remote.

Saturday, February 11, 2012


That is what was written on the rear end of a lady I saw walking down the street.  In my early days of blogging I posted that words on rear-ends was a pet peeve of mine.  It's several years later and it's still a pet peeve because, well, it's gross.  Only now it's out of style too.

When I wake up in the morning and think "what statement do I want to make to the world today?"  "JUICY"  would most certainly not be it.

I think there should be a rule -- you can't have anything written on your behind that you wouldn't want written on your tombstone.  Would you have "juicy" on your grave stone?  I think not.

On second thought, that wouldn't work either.  RIP wouldn't be good on track pants.  Nor would "Here lies Kate" although if I were lying down it would be accurate.

Just a blanket law then.  No letters on your arse.  None.
It's not cool.  Especially if they are stretched over a wide load.

Not cool at all.

Monday, February 6, 2012

whole pile o' stuff

It's been awhile.  I keep apologizing for that...

Partly I've been busy, honestly I've been a bit flat (figuratively, that is) and had writers block.  Hear me whine, "I got nothin' to say.  Nothin's going on.  My life is boring.  Who wants to read about boring..."

I think I'm depressed 'cause there's no snow.  Though usually in  February I am depressed because there is....

This photo is from when we had snow -- in December

Same tree.  Same time.  Just different camera setting.
Cool huh?

My friend, B, wanted me to post the photos from the fancy Gala I went to in December.  Boy took the photos.  I blame him for my issue.  I can't post the photos of the world's greatest dress, because the world's greatest dress doesn't hide the fact that I look fat in the pictures.  I want to believe that Boy used the wide angle lens, but I fear it's all me....

This is the lawnmower Boy has been working on for weeks.  This is the better of the 2 he has on the go -- the other one doesn't have a hood (clarification, it has a hood, it is just on the shop floor) and it has a snowplow blade on the front.  This mediocre White is for sale.  All reasonable offers accepted.

This is Rocky.  He has a new trick.  He goes out the back door, runs around by the pool, climbs up the picnic table and jumps into the kitchen window.  Then he knocks on the window for us to let him in.  He won't come in the door if you call him, he just likes to come in the window, through the plants, into the sink and then back out the door again.  I am not sure if he is confused... or we are.  Who lets him in anyway?

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

holiday, what holiday?

I have been back to work from Christmas break for 3 days.  The glorious, rosy calmness of the holiday is so far behind me I can't get a glimpse of that sense of peace for nothin'.

I had a glorious, rosy sense of calmness because I did not open my briefcase once, nor open my school email during the entire 2 week holiday.  I also slept in past 8:30 or 9am every day.

Soooo, come Monday morning at 6:15 my rosy, calm body revolted at the sound of the alarm.  I have been trying ever sense to "catch up."  So now I am grumpy and the knots in my shoulders are reaching my ears.

The terrible thing about holidays is that they end.  It is Wednesday at 9:30pm and except for the hour and a half I took for supper and clean up, I have been working at the computer at the paperwork that has waited patiently for me since December 23rd.

Ba humbug!

Saturday, January 7, 2012

conversation with Boy

I've already posted today -- but somethings I have to write down immediately or my middle-aged brain will forget what I was going to say.

Conversation with Boy as we cleaned the supper dishes (the dish part is irrelevant, but I need to write down that he helped with that so I can remember in the future that such co operative clean ups have happened.)

Boy:  I gotta get me a barber.
Me:  mmhmm
Boy:  Are there any barbers around here?
Me:  I don't know.  What's wrong with the hair dresser?
Boy:  Ah.  Hairdressers don't shave your 'stach and beard.  A good old fashioned barber does that.
Me:  (stunned)  And this is a current problem for you??
Pause in conversation.
Boy:  Have you ever seen anyone club a baby seal?
Me:  No.  On TV maybe.
Boy:  Are you against clubbing baby seals?
Me:  YES!
Boy:  Even though that is someone's livelihood?
Me:  I'm not against making a living, I'm against the clubbing thing.
Boy:  So you are against bonking it on the head.
Me:  Yes.
Boy:  If you are against that, what are you FOR?
Me:  I'm for round bales and air conditioning.
Pause again.
Boy:  Where did that come from?
Me:  Where did this conversation come from?
Boy:  Good point.
End of conversation.


So I have a swanky cocktail gala to go to next weekend.  I know, people who use words like "swanky" have no business going to any sort of gala, swanky or not.  I got the tickets for free, and I am obligated to go as the school will be getting a grant for our playground at this gala.  The difficulty was, of course, what to wear.

I had a great plan.  I have a beautiful longish black skirt that I would wear, and a friend was going to loan me a lacy top, or a beaded sweater to wear with it.  Then I googled for pictures of last year's gala.  Guess what?  The ladies all wore gowns; satin, and beaded and bedazzled to the nines.  My sweater and skirt plan was not going to cut it.

So,  I had DH drive me to a dress shop where I figured they would have something that was a)fancy, b)affordable and c)would fit the after-Christmas me.  He parked out front and set the seat back for a nap.  Said, "take your time, I'll just rest here."

So the amazing part?  I found the dress, tried it on, paid for it and was back in the jeep in 8 minutes.  Aaamaazing (say it long, like Oprah does).  And I LOVE, love, love it.  I may only wear it to this one swanky event, but I feel beautiful just knowing it is in my closet.  It's black so I don't have to buy new shoes.   Perfect,  really.

This is it.  Simple.  Not blingy.  Classic, in a Jackie O. way.

Joseph Ribkoff dress style 12573

it was on SALE!


Thursday, January 5, 2012


Been on hiatus for a couple of weeks.  The Christmas break has really felt like a break.  Here's a list of what I've been up to.  Some I might explain, some I will leave you to guess.

  • house-cleaned the kitchen cupboards
  • tackled the pile of papers on my desk
  • kicked a** at Just Dance 3 (California Girls)
  • watched hockey
  • cringed at hockey
  • got some jewellry
  • cooked -- alot
  • ate too much fudge
  • did laundry
  • then did some more laundry
  • ate too much fudge again -- why, why am I so weak?
  • today I will do more laundry
  • towed Boy and his lawnmower back to the shop (yes, there is 6 inches of snow and no, there is no grass showing)
  • got some sad news
  • am hopeful that the sad news will be okay in the end
  • prayed alot
  • cleaned out my inboxes (the virtual and the real)

So what's up now?
Now I am on a cleanse.  Dr. C, my naturopath, recognized my holiday funk (one really can only eat so much fudge before it shows up places it shouldn't -- like my kidneys).  So now I get to go three weeks without the following:  wheat (already doing that so no biggie), alcohol (again no biggie), caffeine (also, doin' that already),  dairy (yikes!), red meat (ai yai ai), and heaven forbid -- sugar.  
I do have to eat lots of beets (more on that in a moment), parsley and nettle tea.  I think nettles are prickly things but they taste okay in tea.  I also have to drink 1 L of water with some special drops in it over the course of a day; 1 L of herbal tea and 2 cups of nettle tea.  I'm floatin', floatin' away...
I am 3 days in and so far, so good.  The fudge is all gone, so I'm no longer tempted.  I'll let you know how I fair.  
I have discovered that I like beets.  Like them alot.  I thought I hated them.  Can't figure out why I've avoided them all my life.  It's like a new culinary door has opened.  I will put my newest beet recipe up on the recipe section.  

In the meantime, Oprah, my lifeclass teacher, posted this.  It is one "resolution" per week for the year.  They are easy.  Think I might do them out of order and jump right to doing something about the bat wings!

Happy 2012 friends!