random list

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

stolen from an email

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.

Python!

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'.

This just in...

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.

sane or not sane? that is the question

My last few posts have contained such words as "insane," "crazy," and "MHI."  Got me a bit worried, reading them over.  Thought I'd better have a check in with me moment, just to clarify my actual state of mind.

Here's my findings.  I am not crazy in the literal sense.  However, I recognize there are those that would argue that point (Sis, DH, Boy, Girl etc) on any given day. 

Here's my reasoning.  I figure a crazy person thinks they are perfectly sane, and everyone else around them is nuts.  Me, I figure I have some MHI, and everyone else around me is perfectly sane and normal.  I see myself as the only nut in the crowd. 

If one recognizes their own craziness, it must mean they aren't actually.

Right?  RIGHT????

confession of insanity

I've been mulling over this post for a few days now.  I decided to write it, 'cause it's been the thing on my mind for several days, so I've got nuttin' else to post. I"ll warn you now, it might make you itchy, or scared of me....

Here we go.

We had a team of volunteers do head lice checks at our school this week.  Whenever the thought of headlice enters my head, I get itchy.  (You are right now too, aren't you?)

That afternoon I became convinced that I had head lice.  Absolutely convinced.  I called DH.  He told me to calm down.  Then I called Sis, because she is a hairdresser, and she knows how this would freak me out.
The call went something like this:

Me:  Sis, I think I have headlice.
Sis:  Are you itchy?
Me:  Yes.  Everywhere.
Sis:  How long has your head been itchy?
Me:  Since this afternoon.
Sis:  (pause) Since the headlice ladies came to your school to check the kids?  Since you started thinking about it?
Me:  Yes.  And I know it's bad.
Sis:  You are freaking out, aren't you?
Me:  Yes, I'm freaking out. 
Sis:  Calm down.  I will check your head when you get home tonight.
Me:  Sniff.  Sniff.  Okay.
Sis:   Don't freak out.
.....

So what did I do? 

I freaked out.  I changed babysitting plans because I didn't want my teenage friend in a house crawling with  lice.  I made Girl help me strip all the beds, gather the decorative cushions and quilts, collect all stuffed animals, doll clothes, towels, laundry etc.  We carried all of it to the basement.  We created a mountain of laundry.  Possibly 30 loads worth....

Then it occurred to me I ought to check Girl.  Nope, she didn't have any sign of bugs or nits.
But me, I was sure I was crawling with them.  I told Girl to stay away from me.

Then I went to Sis's house.  I proudly told her all I had done to start the disinfecting process. 
Then she checked my head.  She took her time; she went through each strand.
Then she declared, "you do not have headlice."

Me:  Are you sure?  I'm itchy.  I can feel things crawling.  It feels like I am infested.
Sis:  You are infested with a raging case of crazy...  (these aren't her exact words, but I know her well enough to know she thought I was nuts.)

So now, bug free, I have a month's worth of laundry to finish this weekend. 
I also know that a saner person might just gather up the quilts and throw pillows and put them back where they belong. 

But it's been established that I have MHI (mental health issues) about some things, so I just can't put them back; they've touched a laundry basket and the basement floor.  I have to sort, wash, dry and then replace.

While I do that, I will try really, really hard not to imagine bedbugs.

Crazy things make me happy

My spice cupboard makes me happy. 
Happy because it's all lined up.
Happy because it's labelled.
All is in order.  It's easy to find.  It's organized.
When I open the cupboard, this truly makes me feel all is right with the world.
Weird.

This makes me a bit happy too.  Not totally over-the-moon happy, but definitely grin-generating.
I'd smile wider if the lasagne noodles were in containers, not their boxes.  And I'd be absolutely giddy if the lids were all the same colour.
But I'm pretty-okay-happy because I can find everything and the labels are all the same font.

I know.  Weird.  But that's the way I roll (and smile).

sunflower

There is a field on the edge of town that has caught my attention this summer.  Caught my attention because of lone sunflower in the field of beans.  In my idle times I wonder how it got there.  I wonder what it thinks of being surrounded by beans. I wonder if it thinks it's a bean.  I wonder if anyone but me stops to look at it.  I wonder if it thinks I'm nuts for thinking such thoughts.  In my more lucid moments I do.

Another New Friend

Another little buddy on the estate...
I got up early (I know it's summer and I'm off, how early is early???) and noticed this little fella peeking out of the tree by our deck.  He was sleeping 'til he heard me open and close the door; then he sat very patiently while I adjusted my lens for the morning light.
I showed DH our visitor but he didn't think he was as cute as I did.  In the afternoon DH and DS used the loader bucket -- specifically  DS drove the loader and DH got in the bucket so he could get a lift to the hole.  Inside he found 5 baby raccoons -- no, he didn't take any photos, he was worried about mamma attacking him. 
So, now our little 'coon family has been safely removed to a more rural area a couple of miles out of town.  And I am relieved that DH was neither attacked, nor dumped out of the loader bucket by the Boy.

the nicest thing

I had the nicest thing happen today. I was at a principal's meeting (usually "nice things" don't happen there....) and the Director spoke about visiting my school the day before. He told everyone that one of my staff members had pulled him aside to compliment me. She told him I was one of the reasons she liked coming to work everyday. I got all teary-eyed and flustered when the Director spoke, and everyone clapped. It was so amazing that someone said that about me -- to my boss, and that he shared it with all my colleagues.
I tell you this not for acclamations, but because it made me realize something. I realized that it did not take really any time at all, or much effort on the part of my staff member or the director to change my current perspective. This small kindness, this recognition, reminded me of the important part of my job. I've been a bit bogged down in some things lately, and now I am refreshed.
I am also reminded of the importance of words of appreciation. Too often I think I have taken friends, colleagues, and family for granted. If I can "fly" all day, and find renewed hope in this "nice thing" then I ought to be purposely seeking out "nice things" to share with others.
That's my new mission.

phone crazy

I got a Blackberry about 3 weeks ago, then I lost my mind. I used to have an old flip phone. I didn't text with it, 'cause I couldn't figure out how to erase if I made a mistake. When I did text it was only to DH, and he learned to read around my typos. That worked for us, 'cause I had to do the same thing when he sent me a text.
In my bid to become more technologically relevant I headed to Rogers to get an iPhone (I NEEDED those Apps!) but the gal there convinced me that the iPhone was for "play" and the Blackberry was for "work." Since I was justifying the purchase as being NECESSARY for work, I had to go with the Blackberry. I am impressed with how easy it has been to learn to use.

Now, how did I lose my mind? I first noticed the insanity when I had to carry it around with me at ALL times. It comes with a holder that clips to the waistband of my pants. That meant I could no longer wear my dresses or jumpers (no place to clip the Blackberry...) My old phone stayed in my purse -- I often missed calls (DH is the only one who called me, and when I noticed I'd missed the call, either I was already home and talking to him, or I called back. Easy) Now when the phone rings, I jump. My blood rushes. It's for me. It's still only DH, but I really like the ring tone....
I also get a weird thrill when I get an email, or text. I feel the little vibrate (not THAT kind of a thrill) and I get excited that someone has something to say to me. I try REALLY hard not to check right away -- I learned that's poor Blackberry etiquette -- but I check as soon as socially appropriate.
I was wearing Blackberry on the band of my trackpants at home, whilest doing the cleaning. I came to my senses when I nearly dropped the thing in the toilet. Note to self -- do NOT check emails and clean the can at the same time....
Told ya -- crazy!

busy week

I had a crazy, busy week. The kind of week that leaves you wimpering, waiting for Friday so you can just crash. I did crash early on Saturday night -- and wouldn't you know it my mind disagreed with my body....I woke up at 3am and could not shut the "thinking" off. Then I laid in bed, rather tossed and turned, until I finally gave up. So much for sleeping in.
It's like a cruel trick. The games the mind plays, that is. I know that tomorrow when my alarm goes off, I will wish more than anything for a few more hours, minutes eve, of that deep restful sleep that restores the soul. I won't get it, I know. I'll spend next week running like a crazy person, but I have great hope that I have learned my lessons from this past week and I'll find some quiet moments to train the brain to remember "off."

101 things

I am following the Jack Canfield Dream Big program that builds on "The Secret's" Law of Attraction. There are a series of lessons I listen to on CD each morning. Today's lesson requires that I create a list of 101 things I want to do/have/accomplish in my lifetime. A sort of "bucket list" if you will. Here's my difficulty....I'm stuck at 8. I think I'm at a place of contentment in life. I've accomplished most professional goals. Now my wishes have more to do with helping my kids reach their potential. But that can't be it for me -- I can't be few years short of 40 and NOT have a list. I'm wondering if it's the stage in life. Comment or email if you've tackled such a list. Let me know how it goes. For now, I think I will have to pause at this lesson and dream bigger. When I get to my 101 I'll let you know (notice I said "when," not "if.)

The Zebra

My DSiL (dear sister-in-law) gave me a great set of CDs for Christmas by Wayne Dyer, called "Excuses Be Gone." I've been listening on my way to work every morning -- found I haven't missed the Kix Chicks on 106.7 at all...
One of Wayne's stories has stuck with me for a couple of weeks. I'll attempt to paraphrase, but if you get a chance to hear the CDs or read the book, I highly recommend it.
It seems Wayne was out on an African safari with his family. One morning he got up particularly early so he could see the African sun rise over the savannah. About 50 yards from his tent was a herd of zebras, grazing in the early morning. What was remarkable about this sight was that one of the zebras had clearly been mauled by a lion. It's hind quarters were mangled, one hind leg was missing completely. But this zebra was calmly grazing with all of the other zebras. Later that morning one of Wayne's children was complaining about something (no Internet connection, I think). Wayne told them what he had seen that morning, adding "and do you think that zebra was complaining? Was it asking 'why am I the only zebra who was picked on by a lion?' That zebra was going to be dead before lunch, but there it was calmly eating breakfast and hanging with it's friends. No complaints. You have no wireless connection in the middle of Africa? You got nothing to complain about -- that zebra now, that zebra has lots it could be complaining about....
I've told DS and DD the zebra story. Whenever I hear a "whoa is me" from one of them, I say "tell it to the zebra."

You know you are grown up when...

Last month's Real Simple magazine asked "when did you know you were a grown up?" I can't say that I can pinpoint a moment when I knew I was, but I can pinpoint a moment when I knew I wasn't.
I was 16 or 17 and full of myself as 16 year old teenage girls are. I was washing dishes with my mom and I announced that I thought I might like to move out on my own. I had an after school job and I thought I was ready for more freedom. Mom didn't answer my question directly, instead she waited until the I let the dishwater out of the sink. I made a face about the food bits left in the drain plug and told her she could rinse the sink. Mom simply said "you know when you have your own place, you'll have to empty your own drain plug and wipe out your own sink." Eureka! The voice inside my head screamed "stay here, stay here FOREVER; that is GROSS!" So, enough said. I made no more noise about moving anywhere until I went off to school. I was not a grown up.

If I had to define when I realized I was a grown up I couldn't do it. I think you are a grown up when you don't bemoan the drama of life. You just do what needs to be done and get on with it. Childhood and Adolescence are all about drama, real or imagined. When you are a "grown up" you see past the drama that is usually self-centred and focus on what is happening around you. Being grown up means being grateful, and being aware of everyone else in your life. I don't know when that hit me, sometimes I wish it hadn't -- there is great responsibility with the "grown up" title. I wish I new that BEFORE it was me.

deep thoughts

I'm reading a brand new "feel good" book that Library Lynn recommended. It's a novel by Claire Cook called the Wildwater Walking Club. It's about 4 ordinary ladies who connect as they meet on their daily walks. The walking becomes a daily ritual they look forward to in their lives. It's a quick, happy read.
In it one of the characters says " Sometimes you only get one good minute a day...You just have to make the most of it." This thought has stuck with me for 2 busy days, so I think that makes it "blog worthy." I have had the best sleeps the last two nights because I've drifted off thinking about how blessed I am that I can honestly say that I have many, many good minutes in that day; and when I recount them I get a great feeling of peace. I'm waiting for the day (and it will come) when I'll feel like I've only had one good minute -- and then I'll try to be thankful for that, and I'll try to make the most of it.

undergarments

I don't hang my undies on the clothesline to dry.
I am all for conserving energy -- and use the clothesline in good weather for just about everything else, but I don't hang my underwear out.
This has nothing to do with modesty and everything to do with competition. A competition that is likely only in my head, and one that I can't win. My neighbour (I won't say who) has really nice gitch, and she hangs it on the line. This is the kind of underwear that I only see in movies and at La Vie En Rose. You know, coral and peach, pink, black, stripey blue, all matching bras and panties. I don't own that much underwear, and I'm lucky that mine's clean, never mind all matchy-matchy.
So, I don't hang mine out. The world can just imagine that mine's too nice, too delicate, to expose to the elements.

perfect mate?

DH and I recently had our 17th wedding anniversary, but we've been together for more than 20 years. We had a conversation recently about "perfect mates." The crux of the conversation being the question of whether great partnerships are just natural-soul-mates-finding-each-other or is every pairing hard work. No great wisdom came of that conversation.

BUT, DH did tell me that if I only fixed qualities A and B, then I'd be perfect. ( I won't name or describe these character traits or you will discover my flaws too). The surprise to me was not the naming of the flaws -- I know I don't possess A or B, nor the desire to acquire them (no they are not breasts!) -- the surprise was that there were only 2 items on DH's perfect mate list.
My response to DH's comment about my lack of A and B was that it was a good thing I lacked such qualities, otherwise I may not be able to put up with his lack of A to Z.... (Good thing sense of humour is one of the qualities I most admire about the man.)

inbox junk mail

My inbox had 13 new messages -- 4 were from people offering either a penis implant or Viagara. Now I"m not sure how exactly my name got on this list; or who believes a mother of 2 requires Viagara (or a penis for that matter) but I'm resenting the fact that such ideas are in my mailbox. I also notice that I've received nothing offering breast implants. I'm not sure whether to be pleased or insulted, really.

naked laundry day?

I like doing laundry. I'd never confess this to my kids, but it is one chore that I like doing. I love the smell of clean laundry, like the warmth of clothes fresh out of the dryer,and I like the melodic rhythm of ironing. Crazy but true.
I also like that my laundry room is truly the only space where anyone rarely ventures to interrupt me, unlike the washroom... My laundry room is in my basement. If anyone comes down while I am working they know they are likely to be asked to sort or carry up a load, so they leave me alone. It's a good space for hiding and for thinking. Sad but true.
My only issue with laundry is that it is never, ever done. It's the only chore I can think of that even while doing it more is being created. While I am scrubbing whites, the ones I am wearing are getting dirty. I advocate for a Naked Laundry Day. Certainly not a PUBLIC naked laundry day, but rather a day where everyone stays home and finishes their laundry while in the buff. If Naked Laundry Day was Tuesdays we could all have No Load Wednesday. I realize this could be a hard sell to anyone who doesn't do laundry (ie DH); who wants to stay home naked while someone else washes clothes -- but there is the naked aspect to consider...