Not Justa

Juicy

2012-02-11T16:59:00.000-08:00

JUICY
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.

whole pile o' stuff

2012-02-06T19:05:00.000-08:00

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?

holiday, what holiday?

2012-01-11T18:33:00.000-08:00

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!

conversation with Boy

2012-01-07T16:29:00.000-08:00

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.

AAmaazzzing

2012-01-07T08:20:00.000-08:00

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.

And
it was on SALE!

Aaamaaazing!

Hellooooo

2012-01-05T10:55:00.000-08:00

Hi
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!

I'm in trouble...

2011-12-20T18:41:00.000-08:00

I'm in trouble.

I shouldn't be. I had big plans. Big plans, I tell you.

Boy helped me with the plot. Weeks and weeks ago Boy got DH talking about tools, specifically his wish list for tools he wants "sometime." Then Boy quick circled them in the Napa/Ideal tool catalogue and I've been sitting on that catalogue waiting for this week to purchase (so I wouldn't have to hide shop implements for long.)
Good plan? Great plan.

Great plan gone wrong.

I took my sticky-noted circled tool catalogue to the tool store. Guess what the tool-guy told me?

Sold out. Sold out!?!!

So now I am in trouble. I have no Plan B. Notta.

Once again I am going to be wandering around Canadian Tire and TSC aimlessly looking for something, anything, that might look like DH doesn't already own it.

This is hard. Really hard, because DH owns everything he could possibly want. And I'm not exaggerating -- the man just bought a limo, after all.

I'm in trouble.
He's in trouble -- he's going to end up opening a nose-hair trimmer and a chia-pet on Christmas morning, 'cause I got notta, and he's already got EVERYTHING.

sigh.

should I be worried?

2011-12-18T12:22:00.000-08:00

I think I should be worried.

I arrived home on Friday to find a large box in my back porch. It's Christmas time; it's not unusual for there to be large box delivered.

The worrisome part?

The label on the box says, "Fantasy Cat House."

Fantasy cat house? Where is this leading? I already have a limo parked in my garage; the interior colour of which I refer to "whore-house red." Do you see where I am going with this?

I sense a worrisome theme at Shady Lane.

I have to talk to DH.

can NOT believe it!

2011-12-08T16:42:00.000-08:00

Guess what?

You'll never guess what.

I can't believe it.

Hear me. Can NOT believe what my family has done now.

Here's a clue. They came home with this...

Kinda looks like....

Yep. The back end of a limosine.

My family came home from getting "car parts" with an entire stretch limo.

It's old. It certainly did not cost a fortune, I'm told.

But that is NOT the point.

The point is what in the world are we going to do with a limo?

DH has plans. Big plans.

I fear we'll be going to Boy's hockey game in a limo.

I'm not happy about it. Any of it.

But I'll tell you; if we do, I am riding in the back and somebody better open the door for me when I want out!

My baby....

2011-12-05T18:13:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow my baby turns 13.

13
13!!!

Tomorrow morning at 6:30am his great uncle is coming to get him to go deer hunting. He is beyond excited.

His mother is not.

In this photo he is decked out in his camo-serious-bowhunter-clothing.
In tomorrow's reality he will be wearing head-to-toe orange. He'll also have a "mommy kiss" in his pocket along with the stern warning not be be "pissin'" around.

And me?
I'll be saying a prayer -- first for his safety (and that of his team)...
and secondly that there aren't deer guts or gore for me to clear off or up from anywhere....

Good luck, Elmer!

Bye Bye Stewy

2011-11-20T18:15:00.000-08:00

We delivered Stewy to his new home today. I made DH come along with Boy, Girl and I. I figured he needed to see the tears and hear the sniffles....

So Stewy's new home is lovely. I google street-mapped it last week to make sure he was going to a good neighbourhood. Boy said that was "creepy," but he wanted to know what the place was like, so it couldn't have been that stalker-ish...

Stewy is going to be the pet of a lovely couple with an adorable little boy. I put the little fella at about 1 1/2, which is pretty close to Stewy's age, so they should grow up to be good pals.

Girl and I took Stewy into the house and we let him out of the carrier. He sniffed around, checked out the little boy, rubbed up against his new momma, looked at me with the big ginger eyes and promptly escaped through the baby gate to check out his new house. I took that as a good sign.

I will miss you Stew-stew.

The Squirrel Story

2011-10-17T16:45:00.000-07:00

Don't read this if you are a squirrel lover. It's not a happy story....

This is one of the big walnut trees in my backyard. It is one of about 7 trees that make up a squirrel-condo neighbourhood. There are several generations of squirrel families that call Shady Estate home. Mostly we leave them alone, and are grateful they take all the walnuts so we don't have to rake and shovel them all up. There is harmony between the creatures in our back yard.
Except that Stewy and Rocky keep forgetting that.

Last week as Boy and I were leaving for his hockey practice we noticed a big, fat, gray squirrel (the only reason I mention "big, fat" is because it distinguishes it from the other one) and a little wee black squirrel at the base of this tree. Then we noticed Stewy all hunkered down in his hunting position. I wasn't too worried at first because squirrels are fast, and they were close to the tree.

Shoulda worried.

Stewy pounced on the little squirrel. Caught him and gave him a good shake in his mouth. I went screaming into the yard.

"No, Stewy! NO, NOOO"

Stewy dropped the little black squirrel and I chased him away. Then I saw that the little fella was injured. He was trying to crawl back to the tree, but he was dragging his hind end. It was pitiful.

Boy had his hockey stick in his hand still and he offered to pound it so it wouldn't suffer.

"No, no. I can't let you club him to death."

Boy ran to the shop and returned with his pellet gun.

"I can get it in one shot, mom. It's really hurt."

By this time the little squirrel had started his slow climb up the tree. Clinging by tiny little front claws with his back legs hanging.

"Okay, okay," I said, "put him out of his misery."

Boy lined up to take the shot.

"Stop, stop!" I yelled, "you can't."

"I can, mom. I can do it. Don't look. I'll tell you when it's over."

"No you can't, Boy. His mama is calling him. We've got to let him say good-bye to his mama."

Indeed, the big, fat momma squirrel was in the tree in the lowest branch chittering and calling to the little one. I just couldn't let Boy kill the baby infront of her. I told him that if the little one was still there when we got home from hockey then I would put it down. It's something only mommas understand.

Boy put down his weapon and said, "project much, mom?"

Maybe.

Neither squirrel was around when we got home from the arena. So now I picture a little invalid squirrel tucked away somewhere in his nest in this tree, with momma nursing him and feeding him walnut pieces.

Kaboom!!!

2011-10-16T12:14:00.000-07:00

There was just an explosion at my house. Near my house. Specifically, by the shop behind my house.
It was loud enough that my windows shook a bit, and I jumped from my chair by the computer, where I am supposed to be working on DH's books (and I was, working on DH's books that is) until the big BOOOM!

Guess what?
When you fill a pumpkin with acetelyne and then set a torch to it, it blows up.
It blows up big. And loud. And spreads pumpkin all over the place.

Guess how I know that?
There is pumpkin all over the driveway in front of the shop.

Guess how that happened?
DH, Boy and Girl made that happen. That's how.

I don't know the details. I don't really want to know the details.

When I looked out the back window to see which army was bombing my yard I saw the three of them bent double with laughter and pointing at the pumpkin debris.

It would have made a great picture. But I didn't take the photo because that might mean I condone that type of destruction. And I don't.

They seem to have all their limbs but perhaps not their faculties.

Might not have had those in the first place though....
Obviously.

I am bracing for the next blow.

Grey hair

2011-09-28T16:35:00.000-07:00

I have grey hair. Grey hair is under my crazy red hair. Only my sister, who is my hair stylist, knows how grey my hair really is. She knows, but she would never say. She would never say because a) it's against the hair stylist code of ethics (I assume there is one) and b) because she also hides some white stuff with hair dye.

The difference in our hair is that she inherited my mother's mutant early-grey hair gene. Neither one of us have forgiven mom for passing that on. My grey hair is not my mother's fault though. It is Boy and Girl's fault.

How do I know they are responsible?
I know Boy is responsible because tonight I actually felt one grow from the top of my head, just to the left of my right eye (the one that was twitching.) Boy was in the shop working on his tractor. He came in the kitchen with an unidentified brown/red smear across his face. The dirt didn't turn my locks grey, his question did.
"Mom, how up to date is my tetanus shot?"

End of the season

2011-09-18T07:37:00.000-07:00

The horse show season ended last Saturday for Girl and I.

Girl and Strawberry Shortcake placed in every class they entered -- usually first or second in the games classes.

This is Keyhole. You run your horse as fast as you can down the length of the arena between the pails. At the end of the pails is a circle drawn out in sawdust. You have to turn your horse within the sawdust circle then race back down the arena to stop the clock. The circle isn't all that big, especially for a large horse, so the horse needs to pivot on his hind legs to make it around. It's a fast game -- usually under 15 seconds, I would say. Girl and 'Berry like it 'cause 'Berry's a bit smaller than most so she has some extra room to make the pivot.

While games are my favourite, I haven't done them for years. I think I'm too old to start again now.

Darryl and I did well in our Walk/Jog Pleasure Class.

But I have to say I was most proud of the last Showmanship class we did. I don't really like Showmanship, and I suspect if you asked Darryl he would say the same. The horse is on a halter and you walk beside the horse and complete different patterns. Each show has a different set of patterns that you have to memorize. I am not good at that. I write it down, then walk it out on the grass many times and then still aren't always sure I know at which pylon to pivot or to jog etc.
The pattern might say: Set up at A (pylon); jog to B; do a 360 degree pivot; walk to C; back up 5 steps; do a 300 degree pivot; walk to judge; set up; jog into line.
See lots to remember; never mind which side of the horse to be on when the judge walks by.
I've got a ribbon every show -- but don't get excited, it's usually 6th out of 6 or 7 horses (so I was last, or nearly last.)
My goals all year were a) not to trip and fall down and b) not to be last.

So guess what? I didn't fall down (in the ring) once AND last show I got 3rd out of 6 horses!!

HUGE accomplishment.

Darryl wasn't as excited as I was though. I could tell.

Boy's project

2011-09-15T18:20:00.000-07:00

This is how you know your kid is going to be busy all summer....

He comes home with a tractor -- a real tractor -- but most of it is in a variety of boxes.
Can you call it a tractor if it looks like a collection of parts and is not recognizable as any entity itself?

All summer Boy has worked on this tractor. DH would give him instructions at night and the next day Boy would complete whatever job it was that his dad had left him.

This is where he was at on Saturday...

see -- you can kind of tell it's a tractor.

Boy's got the motor running, fixed the brakes and replaced the transmission. He did the sandblasting on Saturday, so DH could paint the chassis in the afternoon while Boy did the rims.

I have teased Boy about his hunka junk but I am really proud of his hard work. He tells me it starts and runs now, but I have yet to see it move.
DH tells me we should buy one tractor-in-a-box a summer 'til Boy moves out. It keeps him busy, happy and out of trouble.
The difficulty is that Boy says he's not selling his tractor, and since we don't have vast acreage in need of farm machinery I am afraid we'll just end up with a yard full of shiny red tractors that we'll have to move to mow around.
And yes, they would all be RED tractors! (that's assurance for my John Deere friends!)

How our Stewy has changed

2011-09-12T18:06:00.000-07:00

Stewy then (beginning of August)

...all skinny, with wiry thin hair and a sad abandoned look in his eyes.

He was a bit skittery and untrusting.

Stewy now (beginning of September)

He's filling out.

His hair is thicker, soft and shiny.

and he's cuddly.

Only DH can resist him.

new learning

2011-09-11T09:07:00.000-07:00

There is a list of things I can say "I am" -- wife, mother, principal, maid, cook, chauffeur, maid, friend, blogger, tweeter and now tedster.

Ted.com is a site I've heard about a few times in the last few months. I decided to check it out after hearing a great speaker at my last Principals' Meeting. As I understand it Ted.com began at Harvard. Guest speakers, the great minds of our times, are video-taped as they speak to the audience. These tapes are then streamed through Ted.com. The speeches are all under 20 minutes in length, most at 10-15 min. that I've seen. I watched a video last week on the importance of compassion. Last night I watched two -- one from the creator of the "Awesome" book and blog (which I will post about another day) and one by Ric Elias entitled "3 things I learned while my plane was crashing."

Ted.com has now gone global, so the speakers are not limited to those who present at Harvard. There are Ted.com conferences world-wide presenting truly great ideas and inspirations from great minds. It's so exciting to have the opportunity to hear Sir Ken Robinson or Steve Jobs speak for example, or a buddist monk from Tibbet, or a neurophysicist. There are over 900 speeches now, and that number is growing. My plan is to watch at least one a week. How amazing that such opportunities to learn from amazing people from around the world can come right into my office.

On another note:
Boy and I were talking about my blog this morning. The conversation went like this:
Boy: Your blog is my second favourite blog.
Me: Second. SECOND? What is the first?
Boy: The one about firearms.
Me: silent
Boy: Maybe you'd have more followers if you incorporated some of that into yours.
Me: still silent. Boy leaves.

So here's the thing -- should I be more disturbed about being second place, by the fact that boy reads "firearms blogs," or by the fact that I'm wondering how to incorporate weaponry into mine so it goes up to Boy's first favourite????

random list

2011-09-07T17:08:00.000-07:00

1. Guess who is sitting on my lap, in my office, right now?
Stewy. Stewy is sitting on my lap. I smuggled him in and closed the office door. I know that no one will bother us because no one wants to see me working. 'Makes them feel guilty about watching TV...
I debated taking a photo of Stewy resting so peacefully, but then there would be photographic evidence that I smuggled him further into the house.
So far Stewy has been only allowed in the back porch, or in the kitchen when it's cold. My argument is that it has been cold all week, so he comes in around supper time and often stays the night in the back room.
My rationale is that the office is only a hop and a skip from the kitchen, and it's cold and my lap needs to be warmed up.

Rocky is not a good lap warmer. He's too wiggly. Stewy is still and calm and will give me a reason to sit here very quietly for at least an hour. I will get work done, my lap will get warmed up, and so will my soul.
My dilemma is how to sneak him out of the office past DH later on.

DH has not warmed to Stewy. He's stubborn that way.

If you know anyone who would like a near perfect cat -- Stewy is looking for a forever home where he will be appreciated for his near sainthood. I would consider offering Rocky, though I've blogged enough about him that you will know that "saint" and "Rocky" can't be uttered in the same sentence.

2. I have been back at school for a little over 2 weeks -- 2 days of that have been with students and I am TIRED. I went to bed last night shortly after 9pm, and will likely do the same tonight. Funny how having students at school changes everything. I get so much more done at a much better pace when there are no kids there! It's not much different than home in that respect, I guess!

3. It's been cold this week. I've put my Birkenstocks away and got out closed-toed flats. Not heels, just flats -- and my feet are aching. I miss my Birks and my runners. I miss summer. I miss bare feet. I miss a cold beverage on the deck after my afternoon nap (this has nothing to do with shoes, just a random wish that popped into my head -- it happens sometimes.)

4. Did I mention I was tired? It's 8 o'clock and me and Stew-Stew are debating a nap before bed time.

Good night

The dream

2011-09-05T19:26:00.000-07:00

This will be my 16th year of teaching. Every year, every single year, I have the same dream on Labour Day Monday. The dream will wake me in a cold sweat panic and I will lay awake the rest of the night telling myself that it is only a dream...

My dream goes like this:
I have prepared the perfect classroom. Everything is organized and tidy. The room looks welcoming and comforting for my students. My bulletin boards are bright and colourful. Name tags label desks and coat hooks. I have tons of great books, some pillows and bright posters. I am extremely pleased with my room and I have worked really hard. (This part of the dream mimics reality -- that's what makes it so scary...) Then, on the first day, as students come into my room I notice that the bulletin boards have all fallen down. Name tags are missing or misspelled. My pillows are gone and the new books are gone, replaced with old, ripped ones. The room smells terrible and it looks so messy and dirty that I am ashamed.
I try to get the students' attention to explain that this is a mistake, that the room was perfect for them because I can't wait to be their teacher. The students won't listen. They are talking and not paying any attention to me. Then I start screaming at them. Screaming. Like a crazy person. I hate that I am yelling at my new students but I can't stop. Some of them start to cry.
Then I wake up with a big pit in my tummy.

Now that I've become a principal I usually have a second dream or the first one morphs into this:
I am in the gym addressing students and parents to welcome them back to school. They keep talking amongst themselves and I can't get the microphone to work. I start screaming. Screaming. Like a crazy person. I hate that I am yelling but I can't stop. I can't figure out why they won't listen to me. Then I look down and I see that I don't have any pants on.

Nice visual, I know.

I have resigned myself to these dreams. It won't matter how "seasoned" I become. I will still dream of crazy screaming and no pants -- probably I will still dream this into my retirement year in 2026.

It crossed my mind this morning that maybe I should have a couple of shots of something before I go to bed tonight; maybe I will sleep more soundly. Then I figured I might just add "screaming drunk with no pants" to the dream and I don't want to add any more elements of crazy to it.

Goodnight.
Sleep tight.
K

thoughts from Boy

2011-08-31T18:35:00.000-07:00

Being a passenger in a car is a lot like waiting.

Boiled potatoes are really just do-it-yourself mashed potatoes.

Girls are weird.

a comparison

2011-08-29T17:00:00.000-07:00

Stewy is still here.... for now. Still working on DH to open his heart, mind and home....
This is a comparison of the two felines who tolerate the humans at Shady Lane.

Stewy catches mice, birds and possibly bats.
Rocky catches flies, tinfoil balls and his tail.

Rocky is hefty, with soft thick hair and gorgeous green eyes. He is very handsome and he knows it.
Stewy is skinny with thin, wiry hair and gorgeous ginger-orange eyes. He doesn't know he has potential, but he doesn't care anyway.

Rocky purrs loudly all the time.
Stewy purrs quietly, only when he is really content.

Rocky says "mer" when he wants something -- usually food.
Stewy says "meow" when he wants something -- usually to sit on your lap.

Rocky chases his tail, but unless he catches it he doesn't realize he has one.
Stewy's tail is like a flag. It goes straight up when he's happy, especially when he is being petted.

Rocky prefers to be near us, flopped out full on the floor.
Stewy prefers to be on us, flopped across our laps.

Currently I am in the office and both felines are in the kitchen. I hear both a mer and a meow -- so one is lonely and one is hungry....

dead skunk

2011-08-19T05:43:00.000-07:00

There was a dead skunk on my lawn last night.

I won't tell you how it got dead.

It was gone when I got up this morning, but I know it didn't walk away in a zombie-like state.

Girl had nightmares last night about skunks coming back to life and "getting" her.

I'm having olfactory daydreams about skunk-smell seeping into my house.

He rides!

2011-08-18T06:12:00.000-07:00

I am heading off to go riding shortly.
Last week while I rode, Girl convinced Boy to ride Prince. I think Boy has sat on a horse maybe three times in his life. Horse don't have motors, so he isn't all that interested.
Coach was surprised that he was willing to ride, but he told her "I can't really tease Girl about horses unless I've tried myself."
Girl bridled up Strawberry Shortcake for herself, and Prince for Boy. Prince is 37 years old. Can you believe it? He still competes at shows and is a school horse. He is very well trained, and quite a gentleman so I felt okay about Boy being bareback on him. They rode around the trail ring for awile. Boy discovered that it wasn't as easy as he thought, and he hasn't bothered Girl about horses since. I made my Darryl stop to watch as I didn't figure I might ever see my two on horses/ponies together again.

This is the other view I got while on Darryl's back. He's listening to me, I know he is.

i'm afraid

2011-08-14T13:40:00.000-07:00

I'm afraid of a few of things:

1. This morning I looked out my second storey window and saw Stewy with 2 black cats about the same size as he is. I'm afraid they are Stewy's siblings and he is bringing them to my house. I'm afraid I will be compelled to look after Stewy's whole family. In doing so I'm afraid I will become the town's crazy cat lady.

I can't do it Stewy, I can't do it.
I didn't sign on for this is.
I can't be the crazy lady....

2. I'm afraid that there are bats in my house. Yesterday DH had a late night encounter with one. He was in the living room and it flew down the steps and went under our hall table. The last time we had a bat was when Boy was just a baby. Reebok, our former kitty-extraordinaire, jumped up and pulled it out of the air. Then she stood on its wings until DH could dispose of it. This time Rocky sat on the steps washing his paws and watching DH bash it with, of all things, the Doctor's Book of Home Remedies.

3. I'm afraid we have bats AND I'm afraid our Rocky is a bit useless.

4. I'm afraid the brainy-extraordinaire cat is the one outside rounding up his homies....

We own him now!

2011-08-12T09:16:00.000-07:00

Remember Stewy?

The stray that is buds with Rocky?

That's Stewy with Rocky in the back yard yesterday. I used PSE artistic dry brush technique to doctor the photo -- unfortunately it looks like Stewy only has one eye.

DH and I decided that if he is going to keep hanging around then we'd better get him his shots.
This morning he was standing at the back door looking for me (or Rocky, I can't be sure which....)

So, I did it. I fed him, took him into the back room, which he did not like one bit, and called the vet. We got an appointment right away. He was not at all pleased with the cat carrier or the ride in the jeep.

As we drove to Small Town I talked to Girl about the fact that this was still most likely a wild cat and just because we've fed him a bit and taken him to get some shots doesn't mean he's ours. We're just doing this to be sure that Rocky stays healthy. I said, "we don't own this cat."

I explained to Dr. Charlotte that this was a stray and I had no idea if he would be around tomorrow or the next day so I just wanted flea control, and his vaccinations. Translation --" I don't want to spend a ton of money on this feline."

While Dr. Charlotte checked him over she noticed that he seemed warm (at first I thought it was stress...I was warm too) and that he had a cut on his back foot. She took him to the back room to shave the hair from his foot. When Dr. C and Stewy reappeared she told me that he couldn't have his shots because his foot was infected, likely from bite, and he had a fever. What did I want to do?

What did I want to do?? What did I want to do?? Hmmm.

Here's what I did 'cause I'm a sucker. I got him a super shot of antibiotics for his foot and fever, dewormer, ear mite and flea control, and an appointment for 2 weeks from now for a check up and his shots. I also bought him some special food.

When we left the clinic this was the conversation in the jeep while Stewy slept in the crate:
Girl: I sure hope he gets better and he sticks around.
Me: He better. We own him now!
Girl: But mommy, I thought you said he was wild and he didn't belong to anybody.
Me: $182.05 and another appointment says "we own him now!!"

This is not the first time I've been chosen by a stray. It's just the first time it has cost ME money. When I was a teenager I found a stray cat in the barn with my horse. He might have been the ugliest cat ever. He had a pugged up nose, as if he were a boxer that was on the losing end of a number of fights. He was flea-bitten, and dirty, but he was the friendliest little fella. I just figured he needed some lovin'. I kept him secret in the barn for a bit, then I figured it was too cold so I snuck him into my parent's laundry room. I convinced mom that he needed us -- and she was soft-hearted enough to let me do that. Dad took some more convincing. In a stroke of genius I told him that the cat, now named "Newmeister," was a gift for my Gran. He consented. Thankfully, dad being a vet, the required remediations were readily at hand. And Gran loved that cat, though she hated the name -- ended up calling him SweetiePie instead.

This is a photo my Gran had of SweetiePie. I still have it in her frame in my office.

Yep. I've done this before.
I'm counting on DH to be strong...

a list

2011-08-11T07:25:00.000-07:00

1. Boy was ill this week -- stomach flu. Today he says he feels like normal, and I know that's true because he is bugging his sister.

2. Girl convinced DH to get her a fish. We now have a pink (of course) Beta Fish named Bubbles who lives on my kitchen counter and stares at me when I work at the sink.

3. I got a new camera lens yesterday. Girl (we assume) dropped my good camera and my favourite lens 18-55 mm was damaged, so I went to my favourite camera shop yesterday and picked up an 18-200mm lens. It was on sale. The range is so much bigger than the last one, that I think this might be my new favourite.

4. I will take a picture of Bubbles with my new lens once he has eaten the fish food Girl gave him this morning. The water is a little grody looking at the moment.

5. I lost half a pound in 6 days on my Great Granny Eating plan. It really wasn't as hard as I thought except that I can't find a decent replacement for ketchup or for Campbell's mushroom soup.
Here's what I didn't eat that I had to think about:
-6 Swedish berries (I had 3...even though I shouldn't have had any)
-Fruit flavoured yogurt (I bought PC plain -- it only has milk and bacterial culture, no sugar etc) I mixed it with my homemade fruit salsa. I'll put the salsa recipe on the recipe page.
-chips -- I had plain popcorn instead
-casseroles -- because most of my recipes involved a soup mix or a ready-made sauce of some kind. I will have to tweek some recipes to see what I can do about that.
-pop (of course)
-juice (of any kind -- cause I am not going to squeeze my own!)

What I did eat was lots of fruits and veggies; Mary's organic seed crackers cause they only contain seeds; nuts; seeds; butter; olive oil (again probably not popular in Northern Ireland 100 years ago, but certainly somebody's great granny had it...); roast beef, chicken, pork loin; plain yogurt.

6. It rained this week, and I so, so badly wanted rain for my flowerbeds, but I am much happier that it is sunny today.

7. This morning I cracked open my school books -- back to work (from home) for me this week!

8. I am feeling panicky that my summer is nearly over. I know there are a few weeks left, but time is suddenly ticking away quickly and I don't have everything on my list done yet!

visitor

2011-08-07T09:56:00.000-07:00

We have had a new visitor appear in on the porch and in the yard this week. He has made friends with Rocky and the two laze away the afternoons together.

We're not sure it he is a stray or if he belongs to someone in the neighbourhood. He is very friendly, clearly a male and rather skinny (but I have to remember we are comparing him to fatso Rocky.) We've named our visitor Stewy (short for Stewart). I don't know why that name stuck, I just know it was better than Boy's suggestion of "Stoney" ("'cause he's got big 'stones,' mom!").

Also, he likes to hide in my flower bed.
Just look at that -- another jungle kitty...

the view from up here

2011-08-06T08:28:00.000-07:00

I have a small second floor balcony from which I can reach my second floor clothes line. The balcony looks over the back yard. Yesterday I had this view of my yard.

Just think -- only a few years ago the only equipment the Boy could use was the digger and trucks in the sandbox. :(

That is Boy in our compact tractor. (It's not that I am taking the photo from so high up, it's just that the tractor is tiny, as tractors go.) I call it the Barbie tractor, but my boys don't find that funny.

I have a rock garden off the back of the shop. Recently ants and weeds decided to take up residence and I could get rid of neither. I gave Boy permission to see what he could do with the mess. So he dug up all the rocks by hand and put them in the trailer behind the 4-wheeler. Then he took several buckets of ant hill and dirt away with the loader. Then he replaced the top soil and the rocks. It took him much of the morning and he happily worked away humming the Smurf song "la-la-lalala-la" because I had indirectly given him permission to use the 4-wheeler/gator/tractor and loader as he needed.

It was a good day for all.

Except the ants.

Rocky's spot

2011-08-04T06:13:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I told you about my vacation destination in my backyard. Turns out Rocky likes my gazebo too.

He likes this spot best because he can hide behind my "mile high geraniums" (I think that's the name of the yellow six-foot-six flowers that grow to the east and south of my gazebo hide-away) and peek out at the world. Also, I think he thinks he is a jungle kitty if he's amongst the flora.

Doesn't he look like a fierce and ferocious tiger?

PS -- Still workin' on my Real-food-Great-Granny-style thing. Found a great recipe I will make again. I've posted it on the "recipe" page above.

Holiday

2011-08-03T11:24:00.000-07:00

My absolute favourite place in the world is my backyard. When I need a vacation, I go to the back yard, usually to the gazebo to read. This weekend it was so hot that I decided to move my vacation spot slightly to the south-west to read my book and dream away the day.

I camped here:

I read this book:

This series is a MUST read. It's the Stephanie Plum series by Janet Evanovich. The first one is called One for the Money. I'm up to Smokin' Seventeen. These books make me laugh, sometimes snort, outloud. Also, I have a massive crush on Ranger, a character you meet around book #4. Stephanie Plum is an inept, but lovable bounty hunter who gets into the most ridiculous, but somehow believable situations. When I get an Evanovich book, I don't put it down until it's done. I finished this one Sunday afternoon.

I refreshed myself with this:

Brisk lemonade. Yummy.

I was occasionally distracted by the likes of this:

This is DH after a cannonball. Sometimes I got lucky and the splash reached me.

This was a perfect holiday weekend.

PS. The Great-Granny-Real-Food Thing update:
Tuesday's attempts:
Breakfast -- banana, oj, raw almonds
Snack -- piece of cheese, dried apricots
Lunch -- cheese on a bun, broiled (I dipped in ketchup though, so I slipped there), carrot sticks, water
Snack -- Yesterday I was famished in the afternoon. Well, not really famished but I really, really wanted my usual granola bar. Instead I had about 3 handfuls of cashews. I think a single serving is about 12. Oops.
Supper -- chicken and veggie stirfry with basmati rice. I only used olive oil, lemon juice, garlic and ginger on it. Girl declared it the best rice dish ever! So I know MY great granny likely wouldn't have had rice and a stir fry in Northern Ireland, but somebody's great granny likely did.
Bed time snack -- popcorn (with butter).

experiment

2011-08-02T07:56:00.000-07:00

I watched Oprah the other day. She had a guest on who talked about the documentary "Food Inc." If you've never seen it, you should make a point of watching it. You will never think of food production the same way again.

The guest talked about how the "western diet" has led to obesity, diabetes, heart disease and ingrown toenails (well not the toe nail thing, that's my own hypothesis). He talked about the Inuit of Greenland who have seal (or whale?) blubber as 75% of their diet and they have little or no heart disease, diabetes or obesity issues. 75% blubber!!!???

The solution for us "westerners" is to eat "real food." Real food being unprocessed food. The simple rule is that "if your great grandmother would not recognize something as food, then you should not eat it." Picture yogurt in tubes, string cheese and KD packages. He said that we will never have to count calories, fat or nutrients again if we follow this rule.

Easy, I figured, so I paid close attention to what I ate yesterday to see how many processed "unrecognizable" foods I ate in a regular day. I was surprised at my observations, because I think I'm a relatively healthy eater..

Breakfast:
banana, orange juice, small handful of raw almonds (I think this was pretty good -- except maybe the Tropicana OJ...)

Lunch:
hamburger with ketchup, tomato, lettuce, mustard and relish, water to drink (hamburger was the frozen patty kind, ketchup and mustard are processed too...I make my own relish so that was okay)

Snack:
apple, small handful of raw cashews, small glass of gingerale (gingerale doesn't pass)

Supper:
ham and cheese impossible quiche, carrot sticks, water to drink (thought this was ok too 'til I thought about the Bisquick in the quiche --ya, I know not gluten free, so I will get headache as well as eating processed product; and the ketchup I smothered the quiche with also wouldn't pass)
waffle with ice cream and maple syrup for dessert -- pretty sure Great Granny would never have seen a frozen waffle or Aunt Jemima syrup, but I think ice cream existed just without modified milk ingredients, glucose, mono-and diglycerides, carob bean gum, guar guam, cellulose gum, carrageenan, dextrose,and something called annatto)

Snack:
DH gave me the leftover potato chips so he didn't have to put a near empty bag back in the cupboard -- that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it. Chips don't pass the real food test either.

The processed stuff is what makes cooking convenient and easy -- and food taste good (ie, ketchup). If I had to make my own ice cream, I likely wouldn't have had any -- also, I don't have a cow.

So here is my experiment. I am going to try really, really hard to live by the "real-food-great-granny rule" this week. I will let you know how it goes.

Boy and the Lawnmower

2011-08-01T07:57:00.000-07:00

This is Boy and his lawnmower. He got it from his great aunt for free. He loves this lawnmower. Has great plans about becoming a millionaire mowing lawns about town.... so far I haven't felt the benefit of the great ambition (as in he trims our lawn, and the lawn of our little house uptown and that's it.)

Recently Boy, because he has his father's genes, felt that the what the lawnmower lacked was power (again, nothing said about ambition....) This was his solution. Be prepared to be amazed!

Boy bought a pipe (he just corrected me, a "straight pipe") to put on the mower; a straight pipe like they put on muscle cars -- only much smaller. It took him most of Saturday afternoon to rig up this bad boy. When I asked him what the purpose was he said "more power and it'll sound nasty." Nasty. I'll say.

Further to this modification he added this:

See this string. This string is attached to the governor. "When you pull the string it overrides the governor, so you don't have a limit on your revs," says Boy with a wicked grin. Then he adds this information for your reading pleasure, "it was originally a 4 horse engine, but now that it's all done I have a mean machine with 11 horse power."

Does anyone else see the irony in an 11 hp PUSH mower???

So when Boy mows the lawn it sounds like Varney Speedway here. Also, the glare from the grin on his face lights up the afternoon.

Lawnmower free.
Pipe $5.
String for governor free.
Look on Boy's face priceless.

In my next life

2011-07-28T06:20:00.000-07:00

In my next life I want to come back as Rocky because I think he's got it pretty good...

Bonbons

and naps...

Lucky boy.

New Fella

2011-07-27T07:54:00.000-07:00

There's a new fella in my life. Really it's a summer romance, but I'll take what I can get.
He's very tall, strong but gentle, patient, a bit stubborn, and oh so handsome. He's got several scars, but I think they just make him look wiser. In short, he's lovely. He's the perfect antidote for a crazy spring and start to the summer, and he's a lovely distraction for now. I am a lucky girl.

Let me introduce you to my new love, Darryl.

Alas, he's not mine forever. I am borrowing him from Girl's riding coach. She asked me to show him in a couple of classes at the local Saddle Club shows. I am also taking lessons once a week, so I get to ride him then too. When Girl takes her lessons, I ride Darryl in the arena to get him ready for the shows. So, in a good week I might get to ride him three times!

He's good for my soul (and leg muscles!!!)

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

2011-07-26T10:32:00.000-07:00

Hi there.
Thought I'd given up? Thought I'd disappeared forever and ever? Nope. I was buried. Buried under a deep, deep pile of "to dos." Ha. Funny. If you say that fast it sounds like "do dos." Freudian, I think...

See this...

This is my June "at home" calendar. My "at work" one has equally as many notations in the boxes. July's "at home" looks pretty much the same up until July 15. On July 15 my summer started.

Now. See this.

See the one box that is circled in white with the big red arrow pointing to it. It is the one day in June that there was nothing "to do," and "nowhere to go." That's the day I got my first migraine in a very long time. I threw up, laid on the couch and thought I might die. But I couldn't 'cause there was something on the calendar for the next day.
I am telling you, 'cause no one here felt sorry for me.

I finished up at work-school on July 8. Then I went crazy from July 9-14 as I had my 2 courses to finish up by the 14th. I attended school-school on the 12-14th. Between July 9 and 11 I wrote another big essay (well, not that big, but big to me-- 15 pages, double spaced, 11pt Times Roman font -- because anything longer than a blog post is big to me, because this is only the second essay I have written since 1994!)
I have spent July 15 until today catching up on everything that did not get done around home in June. Also, I decided to read my most favourite Jilly Cooper novels again because I deserve to sit by the pool on really hot days and do something I actually WANT to do. So, I am just now finding my writer's voice and I promise to regale you with wit and folly in the coming days.

I've been saving up ideas. Here's a preview:
-I've got a new fella in my life. He's handsome, huge and he eats out of the palm of my hand.
-too hot to cook "meal" idea
-Rocky. Rocky. Rocky
-boy's joke
-garden photos
-wonderings about the universe
-cleaning and organizing idea(s) -- depends how ambitious I am

Glad to be back.
Cheers
K

PS. I am determined to figure out Photoshop Elements this summer. The top photo of the calendar is SOTC (straight out of the camera) and the second one I doctored in PSE (photoshop elements). Messed with the lighting and colour contrasts and put in the circle and arrow. Cool huh? I could get addicted to this program. I will share as I learn.

Another, here's how you know it's gonna be a bad day...

2011-06-16T18:38:00.000-07:00

So, here's how you know a it's gonna be a difficult day....

Your hair gets caught in the car door.

Yes, it's entirely possible. I can't make these things up....

Picture Big Red in the wind, arms loaded, running late, caught in jeep door.

Shoulda just gone back to bed.

a random list

2011-06-12T19:32:00.000-07:00

1. I am terrified of spiders. Terr-i-fied (say it loud, with the emphasis on TERR, like Oprah would). Usually they make me scream. Sometimes I hold my breath. I overcame my fear when my babies were young and I would find an object, shoe, book, flyswatter, wooden spoon and beat them to death (usually screaming, crying or holding my breath). I must say that one of the things I am grateful for in this world is that both my babies are old enough to kill spiders for me. I just scream and point, and they save their momma. This isn't the reason I had babies, but it's good I have found yet another use for them....

2. I only like to write with fine-tip ball-point pens. I dislike medium-point immensely. I also far prefer blue ink to black. It's an issue I have. I just don't understand why medium-point was invented.

3. I love my pillow (say L-OVE, like Oprah would). It's memory foam and it's perfect. Sometimes DH likes to lay on a corner, and I just have to push him off. I love my pillow, it's all mine and I don't want to share.

4. I miss Oprah. She gave me hope that I too might reach the stage of self-actualization. I'm working on it, but it's hollow without her.

5. Tonight I made a great supper. I don't often have time nor inclination to make a great supper. My menu was oven-fried parmesan chicken legs, campfire potatoes done on the BBQ, veggies, and mixed-berry cobbler. In total the menu I served used 1/2 pound of butter and 1 1/4 cups of sugar (plus 2 tbsp. for sprinkling). I should have just injected the fat and calories directly to my butt instead of forcing it to go through my digestive system; it's where it's going to end up anyway. I will post the cobbler recipe in the next couple of days, so you too can share the joy.

6. I haven't run in a week -- too busy and too cold today -- I'm a fair weather runner.

7. I found $1.06 in the laundry today and felt like I'd won the jackpot.

Yesterday

2011-05-23T10:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a miraculous day. It was a beautiful afternoon with no rain, despite the weatherman's promise of it.
I spent Saturday doing my flowerbeds and enjoying sunshine, and thinking I'd have a rainy Sunday to get at my paper I need to submit next week. But no, no rain. So I figured out a way to enjoy the outdoors and get my research done.

This was my office for the day...

While I worked I enjoyed this view to the east...

This view to the west....

And best of all, when my eyes got a wee bit tired and the wind was blowing right and the wind chimes played a lullaby I could look forward to this....

I don't understand

2011-05-16T18:47:00.000-07:00

What's this?

This is an EMPTY laundry basket on the floor of Boy's room.

What's this?

This is the laundry on the floor of Boy's room.

You will notice that the laundry on the floor of Boy's room is precisely 1" away from the EMPTY laundry basket on the floor of Boy's room.

(Pause)

.............Just sayin'

questions from the doctor's office

2011-05-11T16:12:00.000-07:00

I had to take Girl to the clinic today. She's had a fever, sore throat and bad headache for 2 days. My usual remedy of Tylenol and prayer has not cured her, so I bit the bullet and took her to the doctor's office. I hate going to the doctor's office. Not because I hate the doctor....because I'm a germ-o-phobe and I picture everything there crawling with other people's sicknesses. Then I picture those sicknesses jumping on the already fevered body of my baby....I only go when I am certain that Tylenol (or Advil, I'm flexible that way) and prayer are clearly not going to work.

So while we were waiting for the swab results to come back. Girl asked me two questions. I thought I'd share.

Question one
Girl: Mom, how come they have condiments at the doctor's office?
Me: Huh?
Girl: Condiments. Why is there a jar of condiments.
Me: I don't know what in the world you are talking about.
Girl: That jar right there. It says C-O-N-D-O-M. So, can I have some condo-mints?
Me: No. (there is a name in psychology for the ability of the mind to fill in missing letters or lines and believe that they are there -- I don't recall the term, but I saw it in action today)

Question two
Girl: Mom, why do they use Popsicle sticks here?
Me: Those aren't Popsicle sticks, those are tongue depressors.
(Pause -- girl is thinking....)
Girl: Why do they want to make your tongue sad?

She might be burning up, but she's still thinkin'...

still laughing -- entirely different topic

2011-05-10T16:11:00.000-07:00

I got this sent to me today and I have watched it 3 times. I'm sharing it, so it can bring you joy, too.

Try watching it first without the sound. I swear these babies are having a conversation -- possibly about the ice cream in the freezer, possibly about why their parent didn't put pants on them...

Twin babies speaking.

Honestly makes more sense than the conversation I had with DH today....

laughing

2011-05-09T17:57:00.000-07:00

Saturday night DH and I went to see Them Idiots Whirled Tour starring Bill Engvall, Jeff Foxworthy and Larry the Cable Guy.

I laughed so hard all night that my tummy muscles are still sore today. I feel like I've done situps for an hour. They were so funny. I wish I could remember even half the jokes. I told DH I am very glad that I don't have bladder control issues, 'cause I wouldn't have been able to handle it.

My favourite joke was from Larry. You have to hear this with a southern red-neck drawl, so use your imagination.

Larry says, "I was shoppin' at Walmart when 'boom' I hit somethin' and I thought 'crap this is going to cost me tens of dollars. Then I got lookin' to see what in tar-nation I'd hit. Well, it was a midget. I says "geez I'm sorry. Y'all okay.' And the midget says 'well, I ain't happy. So I says 'which one are ya then?"

If you want to escape reality and feel your tummy muscles. I recommend skipping the sit ups and yoga and go to You Tube to check out Larry, Jeff or Bill.

Two hours with those boys washed away the week before and set me in the right frame of mind for the next
one.

Git 'er done.

Soooo cool

2011-05-04T16:18:00.000-07:00

So you know my posts have been spotty lately. It's 'cause I'm up to my eyeballs in School Law and Leadership courses.

But I have discovered something really cool. Something I wish I had had in public school. It would have made life a lot easier.

For my Law course I have a lot of projects that need to be done with a partner. The difficulty is every person in the course also has a full time job in a school that is, of course, not close to mine and they have a life beyond the job and the course. So how do you collaborate when you can't really meet after school and have milk and cookies?
I started my first paper emailing the work back and forth. Boy told me this was "the old fashioned" way to do things (boy, he simply does not know "old fashioned!") Instead he has me on Google Docs. You find it through Google, of course. So if I type a document I can add someone else on the document to share. That way we can both edit or add to the paper whenever we want. There is also the opportunity to do a chat, if we happen to be on at the same time. I have written 2 case papers on Google Docs and have not met with my partners once. Sooo cool.
So amazing.
This internet thing -- it's here to stay, eh?

2011-05-02T18:01:00.000-07:00

I regularly visit my favourite blog "Pioneer Woman." Today she tempted me with a new recipe called "Knock me Naked Brownies." Knock you naked? Sounds yummy!

I had a conversation with my DSinLs (Dear Sister in Laws) at Easter. The conversation was about how rye (or tequila, depending on your preference) has a tendency to make you (them, not me) take their clothes off.

I don't know that I'd streak for rye or tequila. But I'm thinking that quite possibly these brownies might do it.... I'm a "cheap" drunk....

If you make them, let me know how it turns out. Unless it's dirty, then I don't want to know.

Obsessed

2011-05-01T17:14:00.000-07:00

Girl and I got up on Friday morning at 5:15am to watch the Royal Wedding. We oooed and ahhhd and smiled at the bride and groom. It was a most perfect wedding, from my perspective sitting on my lazy boy in my pjs. I timed my departure from home and arrival at work so I could see the balcony and the promised kiss. Then I peeked in on the CBC broadcast periodically throughout the day (don't tell!)

And now I am depressed.

I am obsessed with Kate. That Kate. I think Kate might be causing my midlife crisis....

She appears to be near perfect. I love her hair. It doesn't frizz and fly. It is probably its natural colour. It never looks like a nest. Also, she is thin and looks good in everything. Even rubber boots. She has the best pair of Chanel sunglasses. She looks really good in skinny jeans -- probably the thin thing again. Even ridiculous hats look good.

I am not jealous because she has prince, or a castle, or vast wealth. Well, maybe the wealth part -- then I could buy Chanel sunglasses too. I think I am "in envy" 'cause she's young (and thin, and has great hair) and appears calm and poised and elegant; instead of frumpy with crazy hair and a harried self.

I am obsessed with photos of her which only furthers my depression 'cause that will never be me....

Sigh.

Congratulations Wills and Kate. I wish you every happiness.

Fine poetry

2011-04-26T16:25:00.000-07:00

I wandered through a primary language class the other day. The kids were writing poems to inanimate objects.

I wrote this one today in the same format. I think it's pretty good.

Headache
You make my noggin' thump.
It feels like a big lump.
My head is all foggy.
I feel groggy.
I've been hit by a truck.
Headache -- you suck.

I know, I know. I'm an Edgar Allen Poe just waiting to be discovered.
(In my defence, my head hurts.)

boy's acronym

2011-04-25T06:58:00.000-07:00

Boy went to a hockey game with some friends on Friday. It is amazing what pre-teen fellows come up with on their own....

He came home to have this conversation with me:
Boy: Mom, you know how they have LOL and TTYL and stuff, for short forms.
Me: Uh huh.
Boy: You know, like "laugh out loud" and "talk to you later."
Me: impatient because Boy is so sure I am an idiot that he often feels the need to explain the basics to me... Yes. Yes. I am familiar with the terms.
Boy: I have a new one. giggles.
Me: uh huh. suspicious, I know that giggle.
Boy: PMP. smiling.
Me: thinking. I don't get it.
Boy: laughing out loud now (that's LOL, you know.) Poop My Pants!!

Geez.

I did something

2011-04-16T17:28:00.000-07:00

I did something.
I started my first course for my Master's degree on April 2. It is called EDU 635 Ontario School Law. This is the course work for the class.

Looks a bit daunting, but I don't actually have to read the purple Education Act, only refer to sections of it. The red coiled book contains a series of articles, a few short quizzes and some case studies. I only have to do some of them.

So.... silly me. I came home on April 2nd and said to DH "this course wasn't nearly the work I imagined. I wonder if I should take the second one offered this term and get them both over with."

Now, you have to understand where I was coming from. I had just finished a winter that involved a child playing hockey 3-5 nights a week (that's well over 20 hours at the arena or driving to and from the arena) plus Girl's figure skating, and riding. On April 2nd I was a carefree, crazy chick. I had all the time in the world on April 2nd. I could do anything!

It's April 16. I'm an idiot.

Today I started EDU 615 Introduction to Leadership. This is the course work I got today. It consists of two binders -- a 2" binder and a 1" binder. Note that they are both full. These are all things I have to read before May 27. (Did I mention I also have a full time job, a family and I'm taking EDU 635????)

See this....

See these top 13 pages. These are my assignments. My assignments! 13 pages!!

See this.

This is me.
Freaking out.
FREAKING OUT!!!
What in the world was I thinking when I tackled this extra class? Let's be honest; what was I thinking when I took on the first one....

I know what I wasn't thinking.

I wasn't thinking that baseball and horse show season start in a few weeks!!!

Mercy me.

makes me smile

2011-04-09T07:00:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, to avoid homework, Boy surfs YouTube for funny animal videos. Sometimes, to avoid making supper, I will go to see whatever clip is making him laugh.

He showed me this one last week. I've gone back to it a couple of times 'cause it makes me smile. Watch it all the way to the end :)

Boy-Girl Speak

2011-04-05T17:25:00.000-07:00

We don't allow Boy or Girl to put each other down or to use profanity (see Swear Jar article). But being who they are Boy and Girl have come up with alternative ways to bug each other and drive me crazy at the same time. It's a win-win for them.

I can't even tell you how it started, or when, but the use of the word "hobo" has come to be used as noun, verb, adjective and adverb -- none of which are used the way the word is intended to be used (as in a hobo was a homeless drifter; most commonly used in the Great Depression of the 1930s).

I hear things like "you have hobo hair," and "why don't you hobo away," and "oh yeah, you're smart like a hobo, ha ha" etc. etc.

I have corrected both children repeatedly. As an English major improper use of the English language bugs me. And they know it.

Sometimes Girl will ask hobo questions. Like "do hobos wear underwear?" or "do hobos really eat cats?" No, no, no I explain. Hobo is not a species, hobos were homeless men. There really aren't such things as hobos anymore, I say.

"Yeah," says Boy. "How come Girl smells like a hobo?"

Then Girl usually chases him and says, "well you look like a hobo!"

So I give up.

But I'm thinking the solitary, quiet life of a hobo seems pretty good to me.....

Rocky

2011-04-04T17:15:00.000-07:00

Woke up one day last week to a disaster.
Guess who caused the disaster??
Guess who couldn't figure out how I guessed who caused the disaster?

It was not a good start to a Monday morning.

Apparently That Cat has not outgrown his love for the "jungle plants."

So I swept up the dirt. Stuck the plant back in the pots and accepted Rocky's sincere apology.

blessings and recipe

2011-03-28T18:56:00.000-07:00

Last week was a really hard week. It just was. Too much sadness, too much helplessness.

This week I count my blessings:
1. Today is the first day since last Tuesday that I haven't had a headache. Amazing!
2. Today the sun shone, AND I saw a robin (it was super fat, and cold, but it was a sign of spring....)
3. Today everyone liked the new casserole I made. Even Boy who typically doesn't like casserole because he doesn't like things "all mixed together, " except lasagne and pizza. Boy even asked for the leftovers for his lunch tomorrow. (But he doesn't get them, because there is only enough for one, and I declare the dish "Mine.")
4. I have one less sandwich to make for tomorrow, 'cause I get the casserole....

New Casserole:
Ham and Cheddar Noodle Bake
2 1/2 cups uncooked elbow macaroni
3 tbsp butter, plus a little extra to dot the top of the casserole
2 tbsp flour (I used bean flour)
1 cup milk
2 cups shredded cheddar cheese
1/2 tsp salt
2 cups diced ham
1 cup frozen peas or corn
1/2 cup crushed crackers (I used Glutino Cheddar crackers, but Ritz would work nicely too) or bread crumbs

Cook noodles according to package directions. Drain
Melt butter in a large skillet over medium heat. Add flour and milk. Whisk together and bring to a boil. Cook for 2 minutes or until thickened. Remove from heat. Stir in cheese and salt. Add ham, cooked macaroni and corn/peas. You can add a little extra milk if you think it's too dry.
Transfer to greased baking dish. Top with cracker/bread crumbs and dot with a little additional butter.
Bake at 350F for about 20-25 min.

2011-03-13T09:08:00.000-07:00

I intended to blog about a couple of things today -- Boy's new sled, Rocky dumping another plant, along with complaints about spending March Break in one arena or another.

But I can't complain, about anything. I would far rather be spending my time at the arena than the funeral parlour....

A friend of ours, a young teenager, passed away last night quite suddenly, quite unexpectedly. They believe it was spinal meningitis. He was fine on Friday evening, got quite ill in the night and by Saturday night he was gone.

So I am sad. I cannot make any sense of this. I just can't get my head around it.

I will take my boy to hockey this week and I will be grateful for the opportunity.

Horror of horrors!!!

2011-03-01T19:46:00.000-08:00

Yes, even MORE horrifying than finding a mouse in your crockpot!!
So horrifying I almost cannot speak of it.

But I started this post, so I will. But I warn you .... you won't be able to look at me the same again....

Still reading???
Looking for an excuse not to look at me ever, ever again???

Here it is.
Horrifying!

Today I made the most basic mistake, the mistake that is made fun of on movies and TV shows, the thing that your mother warns you about from the first time you ever put on a skirt...

I tucked the back of my long flowing skirt into my bloomers. It was a long full skirt so no hiney was exposed but IT COULD HAVE BEEN hanging out for all the elementary children in Small Town to see!!!

A very sweet, concerned parent volunteer followed me down the hall, ran to catch up with me, and then pointed out my faux pas.

Horrifying.
I died.
Then I laughed.
But not really.

The end.

Quick -- how are these 3 things connected?

2011-02-27T08:20:00.000-08:00

Crockpot, ice fishing, mouse...

You'll never guess.

I'll just tell you the story.

On Family Day Boy went ice fishing with his 4H Club. (I spent Family Day on the couch feeling ill and sorry for myself.)
When Boy got home from ice fishing that night he left his duffle bag in the kitchen. Boy did not catch anything, but he had a great time. He also had great stories about a mouse in the ice hut, hockey on the lake and sunglasses falling down the ice hole.

I was feeling crummy so I left the crockpot in the sink to soak overnight. When DH went to bed he closed the kitchen door to keep Rocky out of the kitchen so he wouldn't play in the crockpot (it's well documented that he likes to play in water....)

When I went to the kitchen on Tuesday morning I found a mouse floating in my crockpot. A MOUSE! IN MY CROCKPOT! Yuck! I promptly ran to DH to report the travesty. He didn't display the same level of gross-out that I did...

I dumped the crockpot of mouse soup outside in the snowbank.

Then I scoured my crockpot, countertops and sink several times. Then I did it again. The mouse was IN my crockpot, you see.

Then I tore the cupboards apart looking for evidence of the little rodent. Nothing.

We have lived here since 1996 and in that time we've never had a mouse in the house.

The only evidence I could find of a mouse was a possible dropping beside Boy's duffle bag.

Conclusion: Boy brought a mouse home from the ice hut.

Tragedy: Rocky never had the opportunity to prove his prowness....

big, deep questions

2011-02-22T10:32:00.000-08:00

(Hello friends, I've been absent from posting for a few weeks -- had a conference, read about 5000 report cards (really just 232, but that's alot), and have been sick with a cold/flu/exhaustion for about a week. But I'm back now with new thoughts...)

Boy has asked some pretty big questions lately. Questions that I can't answer. Not the "where to babies come from questions" (Thank goodness) but questions that make me say "hmmmm?"

For those much wiser than I, please feel free to post the answers in the comments and I'll be sure to pass them along to Boy.

Are you ready??? Remember these are Boys wonderings, not mine. Though I do have the same concern about question number 3.

Question 1
Why do people pay money for ripped jeans?

And, why can't I wear the jeans I ripped in the shop to school, if it's the "in" thing. The answer to this one is "because I said so!"

Question 2
Why do they call it a hamburger? It's not made of ham. AND if it really is meant to be "meat burger" why to they put vegetation like lettuce and tomatoes on it? That should be on a veggie burger. Why do meat eaters need to specifically ask that there be no vegetation polluting the hamburger?

Question 3
Why does Rocky always smell like butt?

know what this is?

2011-02-06T18:49:00.000-08:00

If you are a hockey mom, you know what this is....

This is VICTORY.

Boy's team won a hockey tournament this weekend.
When you win a championship you throw down your sticks, gloves, helmets so you can a)jump on your goalie, b)receive your banner/trophy/medals and c) get your team photo taken by crazy Big Red, who also takes random shots of the ice on her way to the team photo.

just try and guess....

2011-02-04T18:56:00.000-08:00

Here are your clues....

I came home from work yesterday to find the following items spread down the length of my hallway

Item #1 -- a clean pair of DHs work socks, unfolded, wrinkled a bit. The pair was not together

Item #2 -- a shoe lace from a hockey skate

Item #3 -- a skateboard

Item #4 -- the cat's harness and leash

Can you guess?

I wish I had a photo, but since I don't I will describe to you exactly how the above mess was explained to me in my conversation with Girl and DH.

Me: What's with the stuff in the hall?
Girl: Me and Dad were playing with Rocky.
Me: Where's Rocky now?
DH: We think he's hiding.
Me: Should I be worried about him? Did you tie him up or something?
Girl: Not really. But he liked what we did.
Me: Not really????
DH: Well, he went skateboarding.
Me: (my voice is rising) Skateboarding?
DH: He was safe, and he might of liked it.
Girl: (interrupting) We tied the string to the front of the skateboard. And put the leash on Rocky.
Me: Uh huh....
DH: The silly cat didn't seem to mind.
Me: And the socks?
Girl: He was safe. We tied dad's socks around his head so if he crashed it wouldn't hurt.
DH: Like a little helmet. He liked it.
Girl: Yeah. He liked it. He didn't move 'til I walked away from the board. He just sat there. He liked it.

Me: (Thinking.) I'll bet he was wishing he had on his cool blue argyle t-shirt, cause that would be totally rad!

how does a cat spend a snow day?

2011-02-02T10:16:00.000-08:00

If you are That Cat...

you spend it like this...

In your flannel nightie (on top of the hockey bag)

Then you get dressed in your favourite blue t-shirt and have your breakfast.

At snack time you make sure you have your bib on so Girl can feed you your Tasty Temptations on a baby spoon.

All the while you plan your escape from such humiliation....

I wish you luck, Rocky. Love Mama

How you know it's going to be "one of those days." Part 2 (or 3...)

2011-01-31T18:04:00.000-08:00

You know it's shaping up to be a difficult day when...

You are awakened 10 minutes before the alarm by the sound of one of your offspring shouting "mom, Mom, MOM. The cat is puking on the carpet in the hall."

I'm just going to leave you with that visual. There is nothing more to say about the start of such a Monday morning.

Part 2
You know it's really not shaping up to be a better day when you walk outside and it's so cold that your nose hairs crackle.....

Also a lovely visual .... but you know it's true!

Looking for a laugh

2011-01-23T17:22:00.000-08:00

Click here to check out this You Tube video called "PP Platypus."

I warn you though, this ridiculous song will get stuck in your head.

It will.

You will think it won't happen to you, but it will.

It is stuck in my head, but I'm thinking that if I pass it along I'll be freed....

Good luck. You've been warned!

You know it's going to be "a day..."

2011-01-19T17:51:00.000-08:00

You know it's going to be one of those days when....

You realize that the carefully selected outfit you have chosen for the visit from your superintendent has a fatal flaw....

wait for it..... I know you've got a crazy visual going....

Yep. Navy blue nylons, black short skirt.

Not pretty.

Confidence busting really.

Yep. One of those days.

Maybe tomorrow I'll do something wild and crazy like black bra, white turtleneck......

The fort

2011-01-16T11:06:00.000-08:00

This is my view from my kitchen window....

That hill, it's a fort. Let me tell you how it came to be:

Last weekend Girl was outside playing. She stacked some snowballs against the pool fence. After about an hour she had a little snow pile that was about 1 1/2 feet high. She enlisted the help of her dad to get it higher. They stacked snow in a circle igloo-style for about another hour. Boy looked out the window and commented that it looked like a lot of work, and he couldn't believe that dad hadn't gotten the tractor and blower our to speed things up. I was also impressed at the manual labour....

At lunch they told me all about their big plans for the "ultimate snowfort." I listened with only half an ear, unfortunately.

Shortly there after I had to take Boy for hockey. As I walked out to the jeep I noticed the garden hose snaked across the driveway. This is not the season for a garden hose, I thought to myself.

I followed the hose right into the snowfort. Girl was diligently spraying icy water on the INSIDE of the snowfort. Our conversation went like this:

Me: What in the world are you doing?
Girl: Spraying down the walls with water.
Me: Why? Why would you do that? You are soaked and it's freezing out here.
Girl: We have to make the walls more solid so they will support the plywood.
Me: Plywood?
Girl: impatiently For the roof!
Me: Who's brilliant idea was this?
Girl: Dad's. Who do you think hooked up the hose?
Me: walking away. Where is your father?
Girl: still spraying. Shovelling up front.

Second conversation
Me: Girl is soaked.
DH: I told her to change her mittens.
Me: She has. Three times.
DH: She must be doing a good job then.
Me: Do you really think it's a good idea for her to be playing in water at minus 14C?
DH: impatiently How else are we going to get the walls solid enough to hold the roof?
Me: driving away. Hrumpf

So when I got home Girl had sufficiently soaked the walls inside and out and they were frozen solid. This got Boy intrigued so he joined in the building process.

Plywood was cut to fit for the roof. Then snow was piled on top of the plywood to better "disguise" the fort.

Over the week the table and chairs from the playhouse has been added to make the interior comfortable. A flashlight/lantern sits on the table. Steps up the outside have been added. They are necessary, you see, to get to the top so you can go down the slide....

This has been great fun for Boy and Girl, and I think as much for DH. Plans for a second dwelling are in the works.

Though it is top secret.

Top secret so mom won't vito the architectural plans, I think.

Boy wants a hound

2011-01-15T16:40:00.000-08:00

Boy has decided he wants a dog. Actually two dogs. Specifically a basset hound and a bulldog.

He's been checking out kijiji and You Tube to find the cutest hound and bulldog puppy pictures in an effort to sway me.

...Won't ever happen -- 'cause no matter what kind of dog it it, it poops.

But, we did find this funny video of an adult basset that made me laugh out loud. It's called Basset Hound Beat Box. Enjoy.

Boy's Joke #5

2011-01-10T17:30:00.000-08:00

What do you say to a very large lady in a red dress?

Wait for it....

You won't see this coming....

What do you say to a very large lady in a red dress?

Hey! KoolAid!

You might be a hockey mom if.... continued...

2011-01-09T15:20:00.000-08:00

You might be a hockey mom if...

-long underwear is a staple in your wardrobe
-you coordinate accessories according to the colours of your team
-you have the OMHA Stats site bookmarked, and you check it regularly
-you automatically count the bench of the other team as they enter the ice
-you know what it means to count the bench....
-you know how long, OR how short, 30 seconds is, depending on whether your team is winning or losing

Boy's joke #4

2011-01-08T17:20:00.000-08:00

Boy swears he made this joke up all by himself.
I don't know. It's pretty sophisticated thinking....

What was Piglet doing in the bathroom?

Looking for Pooh!

2011-01-05T20:02:00.000-08:00

Rocky watched until the middle of the third.
Then he just couldn't take it anymore....

Seriously... I 'm just supposed to breathe???

2011-01-03T16:51:00.000-08:00

I have been to two workshops in the last 5 weeks. The first was called "Emotional Healing for Traumatized Children" (I know, heavy, right?) and the second was a conflict resolution workshop I took this evening.

Both workshops, while having vastly different topics, had a common message. I'm thinking that the Universe has twisted my studies to be sure I get this message. And I'm thinking that maybe I should be listening -- 'cause I also read the same message in a magazine article and heard it on Oprah over the holidays. And you know if Oprah and the Universe are sending the same message, then you should pay attention!

The message?
You cannot take care of others if you first do not take care of yourself. You have nothing to give away if you don't first fill yourself.

How? you ask.
Remember this is the word of the Universe's message, not me.... Breathe. Sit quietly with your eyes closed and pay attention to your breath in and out. Notice the support of the chair underneath you and the rhythm your breath brings to your body.

Seriously?
My whoas and fatigue and grumpies will disappear with me sitting with my eyes closed and breathing?

I breathe all day long.

How 'bout I sit with my eyes closed sipping a wine.
Why can' that be the message from the Universe. "Big Red, drink more wine...."

Gratitude

2011-01-01T16:08:00.000-08:00

I started a Gratitude journal on Jan. 1, 2010. Every night (almost) I wrote 3-5 things that I was grateful for that day.
I reviewed my journal today, and I am a little surprised at some of the things I wrote. I didn't put any explanations, so I cannot remember the context of most of the entries.
I have the usual list of people I am grateful for in my life. DH, the kids, my parents, siblings, friends who called, or emailed or said just the right thing at the right time.
The entries that struck me today are things like -- new pen, clean Jeep, DH made supper (DH made supper???? glad I recorded that for all of history....) rose, butterfly, ____'s joke, a gentleman held the door and smiled at me.
I guess when I break down each day at the end of it, it really is the little things that would otherwise go unnoticed that made an impression.

I have a new journal sitting on my beside table. I'll start my 2011 journal tonight. I'll start with this list:
-rubber boots
-label maker
-Girl and Boy helped clear the supper table
-gluten-free oreo cookies
-a new year

"You simply will not be the same person two months from now after consciously giving thanks each day for the abundance that exists in your life. And you will have set in motion an ancient spiritual law: the more you have and are grateful for, the more will be given you.” — Sarah Ban Breathnach

Happy 2011, folks.

You might be a hockey mom if....

2010-12-29T12:12:00.000-08:00

(Ny apologies to Jeff Foxworthy and his "you might be a redneck" -- I've stolen his schtick). I've spent two days at a peewee hockey tournament.....

You might be a hockey mom if:
-you have a pocket full of fifty-fifty tickets in your winter coat
-you hang a woolly blanket over the stall of the bathroom door
-you have Arenas.com bookmarked in your favourites
-you have all the arenas within a 100 mile geographical radius in your GPS
-you only watch the sport but you refer to the team as "we"
-you say "keep your stick on the ice, and your head up" to your child -- sometimes when you are not headed to a game
-you can signal like a referee so that your child knows they have a two-minute time out on the timeout chair for roughing, and you don't have to say a word
-you understand the term "arena purse."
-you carry at least one large blanket in your vehicle
-you know which arenas serve the best french fries
-you decide which mittens to buy based on how loud they can clap
-you fill Christmas stockings with hockey tape and deodorizer

You might be an annoying hockey mom if:
-you have a cowbell in your purse

Any more, friends? Feel free to add to the list!

Just some stuff

2010-12-24T08:03:00.000-08:00

This has been a busy week. Here's a glimpse (in no particular order, except the last two which are up to the minute...)

1. Girl decided to bath That Cat.
He liked it.
Now he smells like Bath and Body Works Warm Vanilla Sugar.
It's weird.

2. Made Skor bars, fudge, cashew brittle for coaches. Made some brittle for me too. Ate it all. Not sorry.

3. Finished shopping. Haven't wrapped a thing. Yikes!

4. Bought DH a new Lazyboy for Christmas. The leather colour is called "black cherry." I think it looks black. Boy and Girl say it's purple. DH is silent on the matter.

5. Did laundry. More laundry. And then I did some laundry.

6. Made Boy's bed and guess what I found behind it -- LAUNDRY!

7. Girl is currently writing another letter to Santa. She is revising her list, for the third time. I told her it's too late. Santa is done. He's already in the air somewhere.

8. Girl checked Northpole.com. Apparently Santa doesn't leave for a couple of hours. Darned internet easy access to all information.

Merry Christmas friends!

A Christmas Story

2010-12-23T08:48:00.000-08:00

This isn't a Christmas story in the traditional sense, but it's a story of hope and it is the story of how one of my wishes has come true. It makes me a bit weepy, and I debated not writing it for that reason (soggy screen and all) but my D S-i-L (Dear sister-in-law) told me I should 'cause it's one of those stories that people like to hear because it tells of good in the world. So here goes....

Several years ago when I was a lowly vice principal I had a student who spent a lot of time in my office; partly because he was frequently in trouble and partly because he needed a safe place to go. Over the two years that he was in my school I got to know him pretty well. His story broke my heart and haunted my dreams. More than once I very nearly brought him home. DH and I discussed it several times and I had his blessing to do so, should life take us that way. You see this boy had a wicked step mom, and a blind (figuratively, not literally) mostly absent dad. His life was unbelievable, and I won't share all that he told me as that is not my story to tell.

I made repeated calls to the Children's Aid Society. In the spring of his Grade 8 year I called at least twice a week for months. Nothing happened. I was sick at heart to think of what would become of him over the summer and as he went to high school. Who would know his story? Where would he go to cry? I said a quiet prayer every day for his safety.

In August of that summer I got a phone call from him at my house. (This is the part where I cry, so excuse the soggy screen.) He told me he had been removed from his home and taken into foster care. He really, really liked his foster family and he would not be returning to his father's house. Then he thanked me. He said, "thank you for seeing ME, not the jerk I was. Thank you for not giving up on me. I am going to be okay now." After that call I cried and cried. I went to DH and said "I can die tomorrow now. I have made a difference to one."

I have thought of that child very often over the years; hoping to get a glimpse of him if I drive through his new town.

Fast forward to a few weeks ago. That boy, a young man now, came to see me at my school. He had been to my old school and they gave him directions to find me. I knew him immediately as he stood at my office door. (pause -- more kleenex now). He gave me a big hug and thanked me again. He came to find me to tell me that he had put college applications in the week before and wanted me to know that. His marks are amazing and he will likely get into whatever college he chooses. He also volunteers in his new community and he speaks so highly of his new family. He has reached out to his father and they have begun to rebuild their relationship now that the step mom is out of the picture.

He also invited me to his high school graduation in the spring.

I am so proud of this child. He lived through really horrible events and yet he has the heart to be grateful, to be kind and forgiving, to be compassionate to others and to be motivated to do his best. This is amazing. I will go to that graduation, and I will be as proud of him as if he were my own.

At that graduation I will give him a card that tells him all that he means to me. I will tell him that although he has thanked me, I have yet to thank him. And I need to. Because of him I know that prayers are answered. When I think of him it reminds me what my job is really about, and it is not test scores. He also reminds me that there are really good people in the world, even if they appear buried in their own circumstance. When I think of him, it gives me hope. I know he will do great things in the world and I am so happy to be in it with him.

Merry Christmas.
Amen.

Tree Solution

2010-12-13T19:34:00.000-08:00

Girl came up with a great solution for our tree. Our fear was that Rocky would climb the tree and knock the thing down, breaking ornaments and creating mess and stress in my life. Girl's solution was to decorate the tree with all her stuffed animals so that if the tree went timber, then nothing would get broken.

Here is the mighty (artificial) pine in it's glory

This is what happened immediately after we put the last bow on the tree....

And now....

Now it seems after moving a few bows and bears....

Rocky has found peace under the tree.

The Litter Box Saga

2010-12-10T18:19:00.000-08:00

Yep, this is a post about Rocky's litter box(es), so if the thought of such reading (sans photos) is disturbing you better go elsewhere.

I actually thought of doing this post a couple of months ago, but it didn't seem, well, newsworthy. It's still not, but it's reached a reasonable conclusion so I will write it anyway.

Rocky has always been really good about using the litter box, except the first time he discovered the dryer and got overly excited about it (just like a wiggly puppy would). I don't have any complaints about him going where he shouldn't since.

Here's the issue. He doesn't like doing his different jobs in the same space. As the immensely thoughtful brainiac cat he wishes he could be he would pee in the litter box. If he had to do the other job he'd step into the box, carefully push/lift/throw litter out of the box. Then he would climb out, scoop up the litter and make a neat pile just outside the litter box. Then he'd jump back in, back up to the edge, hang his hiney over the side and poop into the pile. Ever the neat-freak he'd then crawl out of the box again and cover up his pile. Every morning it was like finding little poop shrines infront of his box.

DH thought he'd found a great solution. He and Girl bought a kitty outhouse. It's a box-like thing with a small door only big enough for Rocky to crawl in. It has a lid and a deluxe feature that means if you roll it over the clumps inside get separated into a small drawer to make for easy clean up. It's also much bigger than the original box, so we figured That Cat would have room for all his needs.

Nope, he'd just shoot the litter out the door and poop in the pile like usual. The difficulty was it became one big pile (think pyramid) because the door was small. Also, it was hard to put the litter back in through the little hole.

DH was frustrated that That Cat couldn't appreciate the expense and luxury of the outhouse. I was frustrated with the poop alter I had to clean up each day.

Girl found the solution.

She put litter back in the old box and put it beside the luxury suite. Now he separates his business between boxes.

Problem solved.

Ay, Eiy, Eiy.

why I fear for my tree

2010-12-07T18:02:00.000-08:00

I fear....

....though it started out innocently enough.
Just a peek. Up here. What is this thing???

Just gonna look up here for a minute...

then stretch really far up, so I can....

....hide in this really good spot. I can't see The Mom, so she can't see me....

So you see, you see why I fear for my Christmas tree?

I think I might not decorate it. I might just go with the crazy cat ornament......

you know it's a bad day

2010-11-29T17:53:00.000-08:00

You know it's going to be one of "those days" when you spit your toothpaste in your own hair.

Don't ask.

It IS possible.

Good night.

you know you are in trouble when....

2010-11-28T10:58:00.000-08:00

You know you are in trouble when your eight year old says "two-stroke exhaust smells sexy."

You know you are in trouble because if you added the faint odour of beer and Brut to that exhaust smell you would have the scent of her dad when I met him....

how I know it's winter....

2010-11-27T11:20:00.000-08:00

When I woke up this morning, I knew that it had snowed.
I knew without looking out the window, without listening to the radio, without speaking with anyone.

My first clue was the distinctive odour of a 2-stroke.
The second clue was the "yee-ha" sound from the back porch.
The third clue was the distant rumble of a motor with a tiny bit of a "baahhh" sound to it.

Then I looked out the upstairs hallway window.

I saw this:

And this,

You know what "this" is?
It's Bravo snowmobile tracks in approximate 1 1/2 cm of snow.

And this?

This is what a perfectly manicured lawn looks like when it's crying because the sled's tracks are RIPPING IT OUT BY IT'S ROOTS!

That other sound you can hear distinctly from anywhere in my neighbourhood.
That's me.
I'm crying.
Winter's here.

reminding myself why

2010-11-20T12:56:00.000-08:00

Rocky very nearly met his maker - by my hand, this morning. I had just finished cleaning the kitchen floor. I was in the bathroom giving it a scrub, when I heard a thud. I didn't think too much of it, figured Rocky had jumped down off a chair or something. About 5 minutes later I walked back to the kitchen to discover That Cat had knocked over a big basket of potted plants. There was soil everywhere -- most of it had been spread around the kitchen floor as he chased clumps of dirt and dragged plants around the floor. While I was cleaning up the mess, That Cat inexplicably disappeared from the catastrophic area.

I tried hard to think of reasons not to kill him. Couldn't think of a one at the time....

This afternoon I thought of one. I took these photos to remind me that he isn't a devil all the time. He does bring great joy to Girl.

The groovy girl tent.

You know where this is going, right?

And finally, my personal favourite....

I'm a competitive gal

2010-11-18T17:36:00.000-08:00

Today we had a health and safety tour of my school. A really official, slightly scary person comes from the school board for the purpose of finding all the safety violations in my building. In the past I have recognized that they catch things that my custodian and I miss -- ladders off their holders, fire extinguishers that need to be inspected; and we fix these right away. But some things that are violations seem a tad silly -- like no pieces of paper may hang on any door because that's a fire hazard. Now it seems to me somewhat unlikely that a fire would start on child's artwork hanging on a door, but I am not to argue with "the Code."

All week I've been going over past reports and driving my custodian nuts with my demands. Move this, hang this, latch this, file that etc. etc. You see, my goal was to have less than one page of violations. The average school has 2-3 pages, and big schools can have hundreds of violations. (Remember I told you many are "silly" so don't be alarmed and think your kids are in danger....)

So today was our inspection. And the inspector was very thorough (be comforted in that if the above statements concern you). And.....

Da da da

We only had 3 things to write up -- I hung a fire sign in the wrong custodian room, the gym emergency plans fell down when a volley ball hit them so they were on the floor instead of on the bulletin board and we need to replace an extension cord. Yes. Less than one page. That's better than any schools she's inspected so far...

I waited til the inspector left. Then I did a crazy little happy dance (think Elaine on Seinfield). The custodian shook his head and said "only you would turn a Health and Safety tour into a competition).

And who cares if he thinks I'm silly.

I won. I won. My school won.
We're the best. We're the best.
We rule.
We do.

Ok. So now you recognize another of my issues....

stolen from an email

2010-11-16T16:51:00.000-08:00

My friend, L, sent me a list of sentences that made me laugh. I've picked my favourites here:

1. I want to die peacefully in my sleep, like my grandfather. Not screaming and yelling like the passengers in his car.

2. The last thing I want to do is hurt you. But it's still on the list.

3. Knowledge is knowiong a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is not putting it in a fruit salad.

4. The early bird might get the worm, but the second mouse gets the cheese.

5. Why does someone believe you when you say there are 4 billion stars, but check when you say the paint is wet?

6. I used to be indecisive. Now I'm not sure.

7. Nostalgia isn't what it used to be.

conversation with Cat

2010-11-13T07:41:00.000-08:00

I had great plans to sleep in this morning. Not an obscene sleep-in, just an 8am sleep-in.

About 7:32am Rocky jumped up on the bed, and bit my hand. Not enough to hurt, just enough to wake me (which was his plan, I know).

So, we had to have a serious conversation. It went like this:

Me: Cat, you are making a big mistake biting that hand. I am the person that feeds you every morning. Feeds you that disgusting liver and tuna combo that you love. I'm the one that buys that food.

Cat: appears to be listening. Tips head ever so slightly to the right

Me: I have never been rough with you. I have never picked you up by the head, swung you around, trapped you in the closet or tied a string to your tail. I am the person who is gentle with you -- always. I clean your litter box every day. I make sure you have fresh water from your favourite clear glass bowl (not stainless, not Corel). I clean the goop out of your eyes. If you think for one minute anyone in the house would take over any of those jobs, you are sorely mistaken. They don't even take care of themselves.

Cat: (this is how I know he is really smart, and understands everything I say) scoots up the bed on his belly, like a commando, rests his tiny chin on my chest, puts his front paw on my hand, sighs and then starts to purr.

Me: I'm glad we've come to this understanding, let's go get you some breakfast.

Python!

2010-11-09T17:23:00.000-08:00

So yesterday I heard a news report on the radio on the way to work. It stuck with me all day, haunted me last night and still has caused me pause today.

Apparently on the weekend a family was doing renovations in their house in Toronto. When the father took up the toilet and floorboards in the old bathroom he found a python. Yep, I said "python" as in big, big snake. The snake was removed. (I hope that is code for chopped up into tiny pieces and disposed of far, far away from the house.) But that's not the end of the story.

The next day the mother was doing laundry and she opened her washing machine and found ANOTHER python.

So here's where my plan differs significantly from this family's. I believe their plan was to remove this snake as well, and then contact some exterminators.

My plan.

Leave.

Leave the house. Take my children (I really hope I'd be that clear headed to take them with me. I'd like to believe I'd think of their welfare....) and move away. I wouldn't pack. I wouldn't call an exterminator. I wouldn't think to turn on the washing machine, or even close the lid. I would just leave. The snake and all his brothers and sisters infesting my walls could just have my house.

And I certainly wouldn't be calling the media.
Hear me. I'm not kidding. I've thought about this for 37 1/2 hours. I would just leave.

Just sayin'.

better late than never

2010-11-07T06:45:00.000-08:00

I started this Christmas stocking in November 1998, just before Boy was born.

It is 14pt. counted cross-stitch. The plan was that I would present it to the new baby for Christmas 1999, for his/her first Christmas. If you know anything about a)counted cross-stitch or b) having a new baby or c) me, you would know that this was a ridiculously amibitious (read: impossible) project.

I got a good piece of the tree done when Boy was 3 months old. He was in the hospital for a major surgery and I needed something to keep my hands busy so my heart and head wouldn't explode with fear. When Boy came home it got put away on the one-more-thing-to-feel-guilty-about shelf.

I pulled it out again to take to the arena when he had hockey practice. My self-diagnosed ADHD won't let me sit and do nothing, these hands need to be busy. I think it took me about 4 seasons to complete. It became a bit of a joke for the other hockey moms -- "still working on your stocking, eh?"

Well now it's finished, and I will hang it for Boy for his 12th Chirstmas.

I have started one this season for Girl. She asked me if she will have it before she goes to college.

It's hard to say, really. Depends on whether or not Boy keeps playing hockey I guess.....

Time

2010-11-06T10:51:00.000-07:00

Tonight we turn back the clocks for daylight savings time.

As a teenager I loved turning back the clocks. It gave me an extra out to be out doing my teenage-things and still make my curfew.

Now, 'cause I'm an old lady, I love it because I get to sleep for an extra hour! I'm giddy with the thought. Giddy, I say.

Here's the one blip in tomorrow's perfect morning....

I don't know how to change my "Time" screen saver....

Pumpkin Carving

2010-10-30T17:57:00.000-07:00

The kids carved huge pumpkins tonight.

Myself, I would have chosen wee, small pumpkins 'cause I hate the pumpkin guts.
Big pumpkins = lots of guts = big mess.
But I left the pumpkin and candy shopping to DH and Girl. Hence, the huge (read messy) pumpkins.

(No, I don't know why Boy is wearing his pook toque in the house. That child has his own sense of style....)

Girl loves carving pumpkins. She's not squeemish at all.

Rocky was pretty curious about the whole process.

Turns out Rocky likes pumpkin....

and pumpkin seeds.

So Girl and Boy had company at their pumpkin gutting party

Why I check the dryer before I turn it on....

2010-10-27T18:22:00.000-07:00

Somebody likes to jump in

Why I stand way back after I open the dryer door

This is the "evil eye."

Apparently it is not funny to the feline, to have the dryer door shut. Also, it's not funny to have your picture taken in this state.

(No, I didn't turn it on. Just closed the door and shook it up a bit.)

I thought it was funny.

Then I slept with one eye open....

Mom, there's no cookies in the cookie jar

2010-10-24T08:30:00.000-07:00

No cookies? No cookies, you say?
I wonder why on earth there aren't any homemade cookies in the jar.?
I wasn't doing anything between 11:30pm and 6am all week.

What I was doing (Sunday to Saturday)
-I attended: 4 meetings for school issues
                 -3 hockey games
                 -1 hockey practice
                 -1 figure skating practice
                 -1 riding lesson
-I made: 8 boxed lunches
              -6 dinners (got to go out for supper last night, yeah!)
              -about 8 phone calls
              -about 500 emails (exaggerating, but one does lose track)
-Completed:
              -about 500 loads of laundry (again exaggerating, but they all blurr together -- see emails, above)
              -reading 3 professional articles (boring, boring, boring)
              -tidying, housecleaning the playroom (yet, I can't really say "completed" because it doesn't look like I've ever entered the room today)
              -cleaning 2 bathrooms, one kitchen and cleaned out the frig
              -stripped and remade 3 beds
-Also checked 10 sets of report cards
          -took one cat to the vet

Nope there's no home made cookies in the cookie jar.

I'll get to that this afternoon between report card sets and laundry.

How is it that an empty cookie jar brings on such guilt?
It's a sign of inadequacy.
After all, I haven't been doing anything of importance between 11:30pm and 6am....

This just in...

2010-10-22T17:43:00.000-07:00

Apparently Apple has a new app for the iphone...
Through the new app you can download directions to any payphone in the world...

pause

Yep.
From your cell phone you can find a payphone anywhere.

Brilliant.

It's a Book.

2010-10-19T17:25:00.000-07:00

Boy showed me this YouTube clip. It's called "It's a Book" based on a book by Lane Smith. In this techno-googly-twittery world, this is a good message.
Enjoy

fall in rural Ontario

2010-10-17T17:31:00.000-07:00

Reminds me:
-that winter is coming
-that we are so lucky to live in a land that grows food so abundantly
-to buy more cornmeal (I forgot last time I was at the store)
-I love fall colours -- why don't I wear more orange?
-I need to get the mitts and hats out
-I should stop to take in my surroundings more often....
-that if I'm going to stop and take such pictures I should leave home a little earlier in the morning!

conversation with Boy -- realities of life

2010-10-13T18:14:00.000-07:00

So I was leaving Boy to babysit Girl. To Girl I said "listen to your brother. Do not give him a hard time."
To Boy I said "Be kind to your sister. Not be bossy."

Thus opened the following insightful discussion:

Boy: Why can't I boss her. I'm in charge of her so I'm the boss."
Me: You are not the boss. I am the boss and I am telling you to be kind and patient.
Boy: When can I be boss?
Me: When you are all grown up and in your own house with your own kids you can be boss.
Boy: No fair. I'll never be boss.
Me: I just told you, someday you will be in charge.
Boy: No I won't. My wife will. The woman is always the boss.

Amen.

Skunk

2010-10-12T18:23:00.000-07:00

When I got home from my School Council tonight I smelled THAT smell. Pretty strong. Like, right close by strong....

When I got in the house Girl greeted me with the story.

When DH and the kids were driving home from the arena the headlights caught a skunk on the sidewalk by my back door. Yep, right by the back door. According to Girl, Boy thought it was a cat. So did she. But DH "sped right up. Floored it, mom. Floored it in the driveway to try to run over the skunk."

The skunk was too wily. He wandered over to our pool area. DH had the kids stay in the truck and keep an eye on it. He got the gun and tracked it to behind the pool house. Then "bang, he got it, mom. One shot. Got it. But he took a couple of more shots to make sure it was really dead."

Apparently it did not smell at the time of death, but an hour later it surely does.

So this week:
I shot a deer (with the camera) and missed.
Then I shot a squirrel three times (with the camera). Lovely shots.
Then DH shot a skunk. Great shot. Stinky remains.

Stinky remains.

So I wonder who buries Pepi tomorrow?

Girl's Joke

2010-10-11T08:29:00.000-07:00

(She can tell this one, because she is a blonde. If blonde jokes are offensive to you, substitute something else....)
Why did the blonde get fired from the M & M factory?

Because she kept throwing out all the Ws.

I shot a squirrel

2010-10-09T16:31:00.000-07:00

I shot a squirrel, 3 times (same squirrel).

After my failed attempt to photograph the deer that brightened my morning the other day I made an attempt to capture different wildlife this afternoon....

Resting squirrel.
I actually thought he was sleeping on the fence until I got the camera out and saw that his eyes were open. Then I thought he was dead....

Startled squirrel
This is how I new he wasn't dead..

1 squirrel. 3 shots.
Hey Boy, I ain't no Elmer Fudd.

the photo I missed

2010-10-08T17:17:00.000-07:00

I missed the best shot this week.
I wanted to tell my son, the Elmer-Fudd-wanna-be-hunter that I shot a deer.

I was driving to work on a back road when a deer popped out of the ditch and stopped on the road. I slowed right down, then had to stop on account of Jeep-Jeep not scaring it away. The deer very slowly meandered off to the edge of a cornfield.

Then I remembered my camera on the passenger seat. I jumped out of Jeep, and deer stood and looked at me. When I set up the shot, the sound of the shutter spooked it and I totally missed the shot.

Then I was ticked at myself that I'd wasted my moment communing with nature...

So I shot at a deer and missed.

Boy says there is no evidence to prove I was that close to the deer.

Elmer Fudd.

2010-10-05T17:52:00.000-07:00

This is the view that greeted me from the throne in our bathroom last night.

So, I know what you are thinking. You are asking yourself "does she really take the camera everywhere, even there???

Yep, I took the camera to the bathroom with me, but not in the hopes of some great unexpected photo op.

This was the photo I was planning to take. This is the view I have every night as I sit upon the pot.
This is where Rocky hides, so he can jump out at me when I reach for my toothbrush. This is part of our nightly routine.

Nothing creepy about this photographer. Nothing at all...

Maybe something slightly twisted about the subject though.....

wavering

2010-10-04T17:20:00.000-07:00

Look at those eyes. Look at them. How can I? How can I?

Next week Rocky is booked into the vet for surgery to have his "man parts" removed.

I fear it will hurt too much. I fear he won't forgive me. I fear it will change him ....

But I also recognize that I will be upset if it doesn't change him. I'm hoping the "big chop" will tame the savage beast.....

'Course he'd likely also need a brain transplant and I can't afford that!