We arrived home last night, tired, peopled out and I will add starving. I will sum up the week by saying it ran the gauntlet of emotions for all involved including the Beagle. I tried to help out as best I could but I felt as though I was more in the way. Daughter stayed home and helped out our dog-sitter who spoiled the dogs rotten. (Worse than Hubby) There was two ceremonies, one for the family and one for the town. Another funeral was being held the day of the town's. The somberness was felt throughout Chetwynd on Friday. The nice thing was though, each ceremony for Dil was uplifting in the end and just as Dil would want it, stories of 'how it was' emerged. I met some of the characters of these stories and their versions were a little wilder. It was a mixture of tears and laughter...but mainly the latter.
I decided Friday night after the last ceremony would be a good time to break my toe by dropping a can of lysol on it. (I did mention we ran the gauntlet of emotions. I just didn't mention that feeling utterly stupid was one of them.)
I got up earlier than usual this morning determined to but some happy back in the house just temporarily for Christmas. I had nothing baked for Christmas so I decided to get something in the oven. Hubby woke up to the smells of short bread and crackerjack cookies in the air. The dogs of course were lovingly staring at me as the drool puddled on the floor. I guess I will have to figure out where I can fit dog cookies somewhere in between the other stuff.
I do have one little vent. At the reception of the service for the town, I was sitting with Hubby as he was talking to another relative, these two women approached probably in their later (much later) forties. The one looked at me and remark in shock how much weight I have lost in a disgusted tone and then asked if I knew her. She looked vaguely familiar but I really couldn't place her and I guess the expression on my face showed that. Then she tells me she worked on my daughter's teeth. Like that helped. Then she nods and repeats herself. Silly me, I was expecting a name. I shook my head and gave a half apology I think or I might have just turned away I really don't remember but I was dismissive and unresponsive to her. She went away, thank god. I was told who she was later and then on the way home I remembered who she was. She decided that my older sister would make a good target for bullying in a dentist's office. I had felt a slight twinge of guilt for not recalling her but not after I figured out who the ............(apply any noun that you deem nasty) was. I reminded myself she was one of the reasons we left.
Its so good to be home.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Friday, December 14, 2007
In Memory of a Not so Simple Man
We received some bad news this morning. Hubby's father passed away. It has been a very weird day of waiting for news and decisions. Hubby is still in shock mode as with the rest of the family.
Let me tell you about Dad In Law (so we will call him Dil). He never spoke to me for the first six months I was with Hubby. Hubby's reasons over the years have changed at to why. I think we hit upon the real reason. Hubby dated girls of questionable character (putting it very mildly) and according to Hubby Dil was waiting to see which category I fit into. All was forgiven when one afternoon, he looked over to my daughter and said, "Pass Grandpa that chocolate." He pointed to a plate that sat in front of him. All was forgiven.
This man could make anything out of...well...pretty much anything. His workshops looked something akin to a mad scientist's playground. His sawmill was the scariest thing I had ever laid eyes on. It would have made a great setting for a horror flick and the amazing thing is everything worked like clockwork. But as per Hubby's DNA being from the patriarchal side, nothing was ever finished.
He was stubborn as the day was long and frustrating to deal with in many ways. Dil was not an easy man to live with. I have sympathy for my mother-in-law as I am dealing with the watered down version. I could not imagine the fully concentrated version, holy crap there is not enough iron to make the frying pans needed. But as each Grandchild came along, blood or otherwise, he would try and reach out to each one. He was rather pleased when Daughter was visiting and was giving a try at welding. Dil was pleased to know she is engaged to a welder. I told Dil I blamed his influence.
Dil had many sides to him as all men do. Some were sweet, some were irritating and others were heartwarming. He was many things to many people. His roles as father, husband, brother and grandfather were done with his own finesse, showing his love in his own way.
Godspeed Dad E Godspeed
Let me tell you about Dad In Law (so we will call him Dil). He never spoke to me for the first six months I was with Hubby. Hubby's reasons over the years have changed at to why. I think we hit upon the real reason. Hubby dated girls of questionable character (putting it very mildly) and according to Hubby Dil was waiting to see which category I fit into. All was forgiven when one afternoon, he looked over to my daughter and said, "Pass Grandpa that chocolate." He pointed to a plate that sat in front of him. All was forgiven.
This man could make anything out of...well...pretty much anything. His workshops looked something akin to a mad scientist's playground. His sawmill was the scariest thing I had ever laid eyes on. It would have made a great setting for a horror flick and the amazing thing is everything worked like clockwork. But as per Hubby's DNA being from the patriarchal side, nothing was ever finished.
He was stubborn as the day was long and frustrating to deal with in many ways. Dil was not an easy man to live with. I have sympathy for my mother-in-law as I am dealing with the watered down version. I could not imagine the fully concentrated version, holy crap there is not enough iron to make the frying pans needed. But as each Grandchild came along, blood or otherwise, he would try and reach out to each one. He was rather pleased when Daughter was visiting and was giving a try at welding. Dil was pleased to know she is engaged to a welder. I told Dil I blamed his influence.
Dil had many sides to him as all men do. Some were sweet, some were irritating and others were heartwarming. He was many things to many people. His roles as father, husband, brother and grandfather were done with his own finesse, showing his love in his own way.
Godspeed Dad E Godspeed
Tuesday, December 04, 2007
Coffee Quickie
The post mortem is done for the play. We came in at a loss but I don't care, my actors got a standing ovation on the last performance and they deserved it.They took a difficult script with a touchy subject and made it work. So now I'm already looking ahead at what I can do next to shake up this town.
Hubby has taken on the task of insulating the house against the drafts which have appeared with vengeance since Winter hit. And I do mean hit, and hard. It was as if someone flipped the switch. I don't have a problem with the getting rid of drafts but can we at least finish the project first before moving on to the next one. Oh well it has been rather adventurous.
I can say I have truly lived now. I have seen and swept antique dust bunnies. The nice thing about very old dust bunnies is they don't run from the broom or vacuum, they crumble. They crumble into a pile of fine dust that defies the vacuum or broom. You would think the pile of dead dust bunnies would be easier to clean up. Nope. With every breath, motion or Beagle snore the dust spreads all over. Its like the final revenge of the dust bunny. Just what I needed for Christmas.
Speaking of which, I thought I was behind years before but this year it ridiculous. The long Autumn really wasn't an incentive to prepare and then wham its now December. The parcels aren't done, the cards are waiting for the letters, shopping has been started at least and almost done (I think) but the baking isn't started. The house was ready until Hubby got in there. So I think I'll take stock in a couple of days then deal with it.
Did I mention Hubby wants to tear apart the kitchen as well? We got a really nice counter from where Hubby works which is sitting in the hall at the moment. So now he wants to attack to kitchen. I love the man with every fibre of my being but I just may have to tie him up and beat him with a noodle. On second thought, may be not, he might enjoy it too much.
I think I'd better go break up the geriatric dust bunny conga line forming in the hall way. It's a matter of choosing the proper weapon and sneaking up on them.
Hubby has taken on the task of insulating the house against the drafts which have appeared with vengeance since Winter hit. And I do mean hit, and hard. It was as if someone flipped the switch. I don't have a problem with the getting rid of drafts but can we at least finish the project first before moving on to the next one. Oh well it has been rather adventurous.
I can say I have truly lived now. I have seen and swept antique dust bunnies. The nice thing about very old dust bunnies is they don't run from the broom or vacuum, they crumble. They crumble into a pile of fine dust that defies the vacuum or broom. You would think the pile of dead dust bunnies would be easier to clean up. Nope. With every breath, motion or Beagle snore the dust spreads all over. Its like the final revenge of the dust bunny. Just what I needed for Christmas.
Speaking of which, I thought I was behind years before but this year it ridiculous. The long Autumn really wasn't an incentive to prepare and then wham its now December. The parcels aren't done, the cards are waiting for the letters, shopping has been started at least and almost done (I think) but the baking isn't started. The house was ready until Hubby got in there. So I think I'll take stock in a couple of days then deal with it.
Did I mention Hubby wants to tear apart the kitchen as well? We got a really nice counter from where Hubby works which is sitting in the hall at the moment. So now he wants to attack to kitchen. I love the man with every fibre of my being but I just may have to tie him up and beat him with a noodle. On second thought, may be not, he might enjoy it too much.
I think I'd better go break up the geriatric dust bunny conga line forming in the hall way. It's a matter of choosing the proper weapon and sneaking up on them.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
Evening Ramble
Yet again I find myself in a time lapse of my blogging duties. It seems I have been waiting to get to a few things since this play was done. Its seemed for a while there its all I thought, ate and breathed. Ans now that's it done, it feels like there is a void in my life. It was frustrating, aggravating at times and stressful. On my way to every rehearsal I'd tell myself never again, and by the end I'd have six more projects rolling through my head.
I'm waiting for the snow. For some strange reason I'm looking forward to winter. For one thing it will mean this year is over and we could really use a restful year. Somehow that's not in the cards for us. Christmas is on a unusually tight budget this year. Hubby and I want to get the truck paid off ASAP and once that happens we can breath a wee bit easier.
I threw my sister a puppy shower today. She has never suffered through a baby shower as she can't have kids, so I thought I would fix that little dilemma for her. It was great, organic cookies, chips and dip, wrap sandwiches, black current punch and a rice crispie cake in the shape of a bone. We left crumbs in our wake. It was a silly thing to do but it brought my sisters, best friend and mom together for an afternoon. My sister's little one is an adorable long coated chihuahua and what a princess this one is. Hey, sometimes we have to do something a little silly.
The only little hiccup was burning my hand with hot water. Daughter was talking to my and distracting my attentions from the task at hand. No pun intended. Hubby brought home some burn ointment and wrap so typing has become a challenge.
I'm starting to smell coffee. Gotta go...
I'm waiting for the snow. For some strange reason I'm looking forward to winter. For one thing it will mean this year is over and we could really use a restful year. Somehow that's not in the cards for us. Christmas is on a unusually tight budget this year. Hubby and I want to get the truck paid off ASAP and once that happens we can breath a wee bit easier.
I threw my sister a puppy shower today. She has never suffered through a baby shower as she can't have kids, so I thought I would fix that little dilemma for her. It was great, organic cookies, chips and dip, wrap sandwiches, black current punch and a rice crispie cake in the shape of a bone. We left crumbs in our wake. It was a silly thing to do but it brought my sisters, best friend and mom together for an afternoon. My sister's little one is an adorable long coated chihuahua and what a princess this one is. Hey, sometimes we have to do something a little silly.
The only little hiccup was burning my hand with hot water. Daughter was talking to my and distracting my attentions from the task at hand. No pun intended. Hubby brought home some burn ointment and wrap so typing has become a challenge.
I'm starting to smell coffee. Gotta go...
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Bedtime Thoughts
Happy Halloween everybody. I know it has been a while yer again but I do have my reasons. The first reason is my parent's trip to Italy. I was without the Internet cause I took the time and did a lot of writing. I couldn't do much else after I crunched my back. I literally hobbled, and still am hobbling around. I can't figure out what I did. I just got out of bed. It sucks that the best part of my life that I'm enjoying I've hit the age where getting out of bed can render me useless.
That aside the second reason is opening tomorrow night. Every time I thought I had a spare moment to blog or breathe there was some kind of problem. Not major ones at first but enough that I had my break down on the last rehearsal before move in. Then my mentor had his on the move in day and then my stage manager the day after that. So now that the three of us have had our stress release we will be good for the next two weeks. As I told the cast as I hobbled in with my crooked back one rehearsal. The more pain I'm in before the show starts the more of a success this play will be. We will see at the end.
I enlisted the help of Artist for my production. I needed a voice that was sweet. She impressed me last night as we rang in All Hallow's Eve and toasting Kyle as it was his birthday. I had just gotten home from work when Artist called. She was wide awake and in need of one of our therapizing (as we call it) sessions. (Hubby doesn't believe us cause he says there is too much giggling going on) It was fun. She had a beer for Kyle and I toasted with water. (We do not giggle, girls giggle, we as women out right laugh)
I was making coffee tonight and I thought of Ted Priske. Ted Priske was a pipe fitter at the pulp mill I used to work for. He and I never agreed on a thing except for one thing. It used to piss us both off when we would make the coffee and somebody would take a cup of coffee in the middle of the pot dripping through. The coffee was so-so at best but when a cup went missing it tasted wretched. I think of him every so often making coffee. He was a cantankerous, chauvinistic old fart, who played Santa for the children's Christmas party and adored his grand-daughter. I hope she knows how much. Like I said I never agreed with him when ever he opened his mouth except when it came to coffee. If I ever get my big book deal I would love to send him a crate of organic coffee beans and a coffee grinder with a card saying enjoy.
Well Hubby is home and I know he is bored because he is surfing the net for pictures of Italy. I think I'll go chat and bore him. That way he'll go to bed.
That aside the second reason is opening tomorrow night. Every time I thought I had a spare moment to blog or breathe there was some kind of problem. Not major ones at first but enough that I had my break down on the last rehearsal before move in. Then my mentor had his on the move in day and then my stage manager the day after that. So now that the three of us have had our stress release we will be good for the next two weeks. As I told the cast as I hobbled in with my crooked back one rehearsal. The more pain I'm in before the show starts the more of a success this play will be. We will see at the end.
I enlisted the help of Artist for my production. I needed a voice that was sweet. She impressed me last night as we rang in All Hallow's Eve and toasting Kyle as it was his birthday. I had just gotten home from work when Artist called. She was wide awake and in need of one of our therapizing (as we call it) sessions. (Hubby doesn't believe us cause he says there is too much giggling going on) It was fun. She had a beer for Kyle and I toasted with water. (We do not giggle, girls giggle, we as women out right laugh)
I was making coffee tonight and I thought of Ted Priske. Ted Priske was a pipe fitter at the pulp mill I used to work for. He and I never agreed on a thing except for one thing. It used to piss us both off when we would make the coffee and somebody would take a cup of coffee in the middle of the pot dripping through. The coffee was so-so at best but when a cup went missing it tasted wretched. I think of him every so often making coffee. He was a cantankerous, chauvinistic old fart, who played Santa for the children's Christmas party and adored his grand-daughter. I hope she knows how much. Like I said I never agreed with him when ever he opened his mouth except when it came to coffee. If I ever get my big book deal I would love to send him a crate of organic coffee beans and a coffee grinder with a card saying enjoy.
Well Hubby is home and I know he is bored because he is surfing the net for pictures of Italy. I think I'll go chat and bore him. That way he'll go to bed.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
Life's Little Battles
I've been staring at the screen for the last 15 minutes trying to assemble some form of thought to write but everything seems very scrambled in my head at the moment. You know, have too many things to do and it all includes heavy lifting or a fight to get it up the stairs and out of the house.
We are in the process of sorting the house out. Its now just the two of us. Border as I mentioned moved out and now its just he and I. I was expecting a huge sense of relief not, "okay, now what?" type of feeling. Hubby and I are rather stressed at the moment which as everyone knows does not help. Its been one battle after another trying to get everything sorted. Do we need this, why do you keep that and the other usual crap that goes with the territory. We need to move the fish in, get the basement cleared out, organize and clean the upstairs bedroom. And let me tell you, we have taken, (Okay Hubby has taken) two full loads to the dump and it looks like there will be another two by the time he is finished.
I did, how ever pick up the first of my Christmas gifts. My idea this year was to find nice but practical gifts and they be as organic or green as possible. Yeah, its a great idea but when you're on a tight budget it makes it even harder. So I figure between Hubby's work place and my work place we might be able to survive it. Next year I think I'll start earlier. Its just hard to wrap my mind around getting ready for Christmas at the moment. But hey the mincemeat is ready for the pie.
The cat and I are having a little battle over his kitty box. I moved it, he ignored the fact. I showed him where it is and he ignored me again after repeating the showing him process. I then bleached and re bleached. I realize he regards me as a mere servant to do his bidding and its going to be a test of wills. Unfortunately, I think his is way stronger than mine but I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.
As for the play, we are approximately one month away from being on stage. Border made the choice of stepping down as Stage Manager by not showing up for a rehearsal. I was really hoping she would not give it up as its about the only thing left in her life that was a positive thing. If she shows tonight I'll give her a reprieve but somehow I don't think she will. So now I have to be on the hunt for a Stage Manager. Yikes, its going to mean a lot of grovelling. Its a good thing I'm a master at it.
To top off my day I have the fun of taking our Airedale into the vets. Do you know how hard it is to try and just take one dog out of the house without a fuss? The neighbours are just going to love the noise when I pull out of the driveway leaving the other four behind. Treats do not work in this case. They know when one gets to go and the others don't. Its okay for Hubby cause then I'm home for the damage control. If its just me, then I'm in for a fight. Maybe I will take all five to the vets and duke it out with them their. Maybe if they see its not always going through the drive through for coffee and dog treats. Okay so I can hope.
Speaking of which, the battle is about to ensue. Lord have mercy on me, cause I'm going to need it.
We are in the process of sorting the house out. Its now just the two of us. Border as I mentioned moved out and now its just he and I. I was expecting a huge sense of relief not, "okay, now what?" type of feeling. Hubby and I are rather stressed at the moment which as everyone knows does not help. Its been one battle after another trying to get everything sorted. Do we need this, why do you keep that and the other usual crap that goes with the territory. We need to move the fish in, get the basement cleared out, organize and clean the upstairs bedroom. And let me tell you, we have taken, (Okay Hubby has taken) two full loads to the dump and it looks like there will be another two by the time he is finished.
I did, how ever pick up the first of my Christmas gifts. My idea this year was to find nice but practical gifts and they be as organic or green as possible. Yeah, its a great idea but when you're on a tight budget it makes it even harder. So I figure between Hubby's work place and my work place we might be able to survive it. Next year I think I'll start earlier. Its just hard to wrap my mind around getting ready for Christmas at the moment. But hey the mincemeat is ready for the pie.
The cat and I are having a little battle over his kitty box. I moved it, he ignored the fact. I showed him where it is and he ignored me again after repeating the showing him process. I then bleached and re bleached. I realize he regards me as a mere servant to do his bidding and its going to be a test of wills. Unfortunately, I think his is way stronger than mine but I do have a few tricks up my sleeve.
As for the play, we are approximately one month away from being on stage. Border made the choice of stepping down as Stage Manager by not showing up for a rehearsal. I was really hoping she would not give it up as its about the only thing left in her life that was a positive thing. If she shows tonight I'll give her a reprieve but somehow I don't think she will. So now I have to be on the hunt for a Stage Manager. Yikes, its going to mean a lot of grovelling. Its a good thing I'm a master at it.
To top off my day I have the fun of taking our Airedale into the vets. Do you know how hard it is to try and just take one dog out of the house without a fuss? The neighbours are just going to love the noise when I pull out of the driveway leaving the other four behind. Treats do not work in this case. They know when one gets to go and the others don't. Its okay for Hubby cause then I'm home for the damage control. If its just me, then I'm in for a fight. Maybe I will take all five to the vets and duke it out with them their. Maybe if they see its not always going through the drive through for coffee and dog treats. Okay so I can hope.
Speaking of which, the battle is about to ensue. Lord have mercy on me, cause I'm going to need it.
Saturday, September 15, 2007
Post from Hell
Okay so the first thing to do before reading any further is get yourself a nice cuppa tea or coffee. Get a comfy stool to put your feet up on and anything else you might need for this read. Its a tad long as I am going to be rambling quite a bit.
My apologies to those who kept checking in the last couple up months to no updates. Things got a little out of hand in life and it was a matter of taking my fingers out of the pots to ease up the stress levels a little.
Fishpond time was pretty much a dismal failure. July we tried but the mosquitos decided that we were a nice little snack and drove us indoors and as for August, well, lets just say the predictions for the hottest month of the year was a dismal disappointment. Hurricanes have been pulling on the Arctic fronts and drew them down. So while other places were complaining of the heat, we wear pulling on our jackets wondering if Global Warning was a conspiracy. September seems to be okay but now the attentions are on other things.
I am directing a play called "More Fun than Bowling". Its a dark comedy about life and death in a bowling alley. I hate the auditions part. I want to give everybody a part but can't and as there is only five roles to the play, it makes it even harder. I've got strong actors and two of which can carry the play on their shoulders. The best thing is its all takes place on top of a hill so there are no set changes. Trying to turn a stage into a hill may be a bit of a challenge.
I am still dealing with the ramifications of stepping down as treasurer. The present executive board is going nuts trying to sort out all the paperwork I sent in a box. I keep telling them, everything was in the box in the office. I haven't a clue what's been done or who has torn apart what. I did say at one point I was barely keeping my head above water and I did not get any lifeboats or even a floatation device thrown in my direction. So things at the theatre have been a little stressful. I would prefer to hold the rehearsals at a different location but as the group fought for the building, I should stick to the venue.
Work has been fun. I am now down to one day a week as my headaches have been wreaking havoc on both the schedual and my body. I was going to resign but asked if I could be dropped to one day a week. I do have fun there. Its a good thing Crazy Cosmetic Lady and I work opposite shifts. The hour and half we do work together ends up as one long comedy routine between the two of us batering back and forth. Any longer than that and we would end up in giggling fits and that would not be productive.
There is also a couple of young girls there that I love to work with. Both are really sweet and are a lot of fun to work with. I would never want to work days. Too many bosses and with my attitude, I would be in a lot of trouble for it on a daily basis. The whole reason why I did not want to quit completely is because I have fun who I work with and the customers. I can't complain, I've been hit on by younger men and asked out about three times. Needless to say the Ego is very well stroked.
Daughter is still getting over the shock of being engaged. Daught, has a problem with projecting into the future but then so do I. Sometimes she is like me and knows what she wants but getting there is the hard part. Other times life gets in the way and plans have to change. She has gotten over the deer in head lights look. I think in some ways she is still looking for her own identity and I worry that she thinks being engaged or married means she will lose any identity she feels she has.
You see my family is full of larger than life personalities. All are strong individuals that seem to think their way at times is the only way. Daught, who has always been the quiet one, the good one and the sweet one feels she has been tucked away by the rest. But then she is not around when I am telling stories of her running around with underwear on her head as Butt Woman and her sidekick, Flatulence the Beagle also in undergarments, saving the world from evil. Somehow she would not be too pleased if she knew I wrote this. This is my whole point, the stuff she did as a kid was funny as hell, but she is almost embarrassed by the stories so in respect to her, I don't tell many people.
Its a good thing her Fiance is as sweet as she is. Fiance is the male counterpart for my daughter. He is just as sweet and quiet as she is, he is a hard worker and a very responsible young man. He is a man that knows what he wants and he is willing to wait for it to a point. He is certainly no slouch when it comes to intelligence and he is not a push over but when it comes to Daught, he will move mountains for her. He looks at her, the way I want a young man in my daughter's life to look at her. You know the type of look, its not worship or gratitude, its much sweeter and softer.
He is a Nascar nut. And I do mean nut. He drives a huge diesel four by four and will step out of it wearing bright red sandals, (yes with socks) with the number eight in black on them. Now I know I will never be the mother in law of his dreams cause I haven't a clue who is what in racing and let's not tell him I really don't care. What was cute was, Daught getting out of the truck in a bright pink racing cap, with Nascar on it. I think every man needs an obsession. My father's was Football. At least racing is easy to understand. Cars go around the track and the first one finished wins. In football there are two teams that beat each other up and fight over a funny shaped ball that doesn't even bounce. Then there is all the stupid rules, kick offs, stand offs and and lines on the field that indicate something of importance. Don't even get me going on how annoying the announcers are on the television. (Not that we have that problem as we have a Tv just not hooked up to any channels)
I don't know if Artist, or Scribble experience this but the other reason why I have not been blogging lately is the fact I have been hammering out my next story because if I don't my brain is going to explode. One of the character's is developing his own story in the back of my head so I will be hammering a sequel to the one I am presently embroiled in. Another character is demanding attention as well so she might develope into a story after that. Of course there is also two other stories that my head has been floating to and thinking about. Once I get stuff out on the screen the void in my head seems to fill as fast as it empties. I can feel other stuff brewing too.
I have one in my head that I am working on by hand because I find the flow of writing by hand sometimes helps with the thought process. But this one I know will challenge me not just by the story line but deeper emotional issues that have arisen. The thing is they are not bad but rather an acknowledgement of something that I really am not ready to admit yet. So there it sits twisting around in my head like a vortex that can't quit settle into a rhythym.
Border is moving out at the end of the month. I can't sit by and watch someone self-destruct under my roof and not say something. Just doesn't work for me. She has hooked up with some guy who was fired from his job where she works, who has never been seen sober, cheats on her and most likely sells drugs for an income because he is too lazy to do anything else. She made the mistake of bragging to me how he pays for everything without a job. Yeah, like I'm stupid. So either he was gone or she was gone.
There comes a point in a person's life when beating your head against the wall only resulting in the hole getting bigger. (Sometimes it feels really good when you've stopped too) Hubby and I want our house back to ourselves. The Guinea Pig will be staying with us permently. For one Hubby and I could not live with ourselves for letting her go and something happening to her, the second reason is, Border mentioned several times of us looking after her after Border left. So Molly the Guinea Pig is now an official member of the household. I do adore the little rat. She has tons of personality.
Hubby and I recently made a trip north to see his father who is ill and the newest edition to the family, our second grandchild. I'm not a baby person. I like 'em when they have personality that I can warp. Its fun but as babies they really don't do a whole lot. It was a great trip. We arrived to see our son who was held in the drunk tank and his wife not knowing what was going on. So we continued on to see Hubby's parents.
It was a wierd trip. Both Hubby and I felt it. I wish I could explain but its hard. As we were heading North, the song Rolling Home by Rednex came over the speakers. The video of the song is the great white north and where we used to live, could look like a christmas card after a snowfall. Hubby switched the song. I noticed he was choked up a little but I didn't say anything. For him I knew it was more than returning home, it was also in some ways saying goodbye. For me I was revisiting and realizing that much of how I had felt towards the place was not all bad.
I am product of the North. I was born in a Northern city that as per the usual was transient and tougher than Hubs of Hell. I grew up in the North, married and raised a child there. The North provided for me with jobs both growing up for my father and then later on for me. I would not have made the money I did if I had lived else where. I would not have met the man I absolutely adore anywhere else.
My husband is not is mother's favourite. This is a well known fact through the family. Personally I think my Hubby is the pick but then I might be a little biased. I told Hubby's mother at one point through out the visit that she should be proud of her son. I told her he was an amazing husband which he is. He does have the DNA of the stupid male qualities of his male lineage but he has along with me worked out some of the major kinks. Its been quiet a ride but now I really like the fact we are coasting along together and not in separate lanes on opposite sides. I told his mother that we had to teach ourselves how to communicate with each other. The fact that my Hubby was willing to, in order to put ourselves in a better place amazes me.
What amazed me more was the way my Hubby talked to his mother. His family is not the most respectful to each other because they are unaware of their tones with each other. Impatient, snappy and snarky are some of the words I would use to describe their tones especially towards their mother. (I told Hubby once his tone with his mother was disrespectful and nasty) They never thought about it. Hubby and I did the same until we realized it was not working and changed our approach and temperment. Hubby never once through the visit used his old tones with her. As a matter of fact, I noticed some of the way she responded softened as well. It was really cool to see that.
I wished that Artist could have come along. The area was in its glory as usual for the three weeks of fall. Then the snow hits and doesn't leave for ten months. I didn't like the fact that the snow capped mountains were looking fuller than usual. I figure they are in for a hard winter, which means it may be coming our way too. I just can't think that far ahead.
I mentioned to Artist that I wanted a zucchini. I like loaves and cakes that the squash makes. Lest I ask, for she delivered. I have a zucchini that could batter down the castle gates without so much as putting a scratch on it. This thing is massive. The nice thing about Artist is she doesn't outwardly laugh at you. She giggles at you while reminding you of your words. Yes, I had mentioned I wanted a large zucchini because the ones in the store and farmer's market weren't quite large enough for what I wanted to do. I was not expecting however, a squash the length of my arm and the thickness of a tree trunk. (Okay so its only five inches but still a tree can have a trunk that size.) I swear she giggled all the way home with the zucchini strapped on the roof of her car cause it wouldn't fit in the seat belt.
So, I've been looking up zucchini recipes. I keep overing some to my mother but she smiles at me and refuses having been in the dillema herself. I think my mother thinks I'm a little of for getting rid of the microwave, dishwasher and dryer. They all cost us money. I can hang clothes and towels to dry, do dishes by hand and reheat in the toaster oven if need be. I'm preparing for our old and frugal years. By then I plan on being a fianancial burden on my daughter. It should be some good times.
My apologies to those who kept checking in the last couple up months to no updates. Things got a little out of hand in life and it was a matter of taking my fingers out of the pots to ease up the stress levels a little.
Fishpond time was pretty much a dismal failure. July we tried but the mosquitos decided that we were a nice little snack and drove us indoors and as for August, well, lets just say the predictions for the hottest month of the year was a dismal disappointment. Hurricanes have been pulling on the Arctic fronts and drew them down. So while other places were complaining of the heat, we wear pulling on our jackets wondering if Global Warning was a conspiracy. September seems to be okay but now the attentions are on other things.
I am directing a play called "More Fun than Bowling". Its a dark comedy about life and death in a bowling alley. I hate the auditions part. I want to give everybody a part but can't and as there is only five roles to the play, it makes it even harder. I've got strong actors and two of which can carry the play on their shoulders. The best thing is its all takes place on top of a hill so there are no set changes. Trying to turn a stage into a hill may be a bit of a challenge.
I am still dealing with the ramifications of stepping down as treasurer. The present executive board is going nuts trying to sort out all the paperwork I sent in a box. I keep telling them, everything was in the box in the office. I haven't a clue what's been done or who has torn apart what. I did say at one point I was barely keeping my head above water and I did not get any lifeboats or even a floatation device thrown in my direction. So things at the theatre have been a little stressful. I would prefer to hold the rehearsals at a different location but as the group fought for the building, I should stick to the venue.
Work has been fun. I am now down to one day a week as my headaches have been wreaking havoc on both the schedual and my body. I was going to resign but asked if I could be dropped to one day a week. I do have fun there. Its a good thing Crazy Cosmetic Lady and I work opposite shifts. The hour and half we do work together ends up as one long comedy routine between the two of us batering back and forth. Any longer than that and we would end up in giggling fits and that would not be productive.
There is also a couple of young girls there that I love to work with. Both are really sweet and are a lot of fun to work with. I would never want to work days. Too many bosses and with my attitude, I would be in a lot of trouble for it on a daily basis. The whole reason why I did not want to quit completely is because I have fun who I work with and the customers. I can't complain, I've been hit on by younger men and asked out about three times. Needless to say the Ego is very well stroked.
Daughter is still getting over the shock of being engaged. Daught, has a problem with projecting into the future but then so do I. Sometimes she is like me and knows what she wants but getting there is the hard part. Other times life gets in the way and plans have to change. She has gotten over the deer in head lights look. I think in some ways she is still looking for her own identity and I worry that she thinks being engaged or married means she will lose any identity she feels she has.
You see my family is full of larger than life personalities. All are strong individuals that seem to think their way at times is the only way. Daught, who has always been the quiet one, the good one and the sweet one feels she has been tucked away by the rest. But then she is not around when I am telling stories of her running around with underwear on her head as Butt Woman and her sidekick, Flatulence the Beagle also in undergarments, saving the world from evil. Somehow she would not be too pleased if she knew I wrote this. This is my whole point, the stuff she did as a kid was funny as hell, but she is almost embarrassed by the stories so in respect to her, I don't tell many people.
Its a good thing her Fiance is as sweet as she is. Fiance is the male counterpart for my daughter. He is just as sweet and quiet as she is, he is a hard worker and a very responsible young man. He is a man that knows what he wants and he is willing to wait for it to a point. He is certainly no slouch when it comes to intelligence and he is not a push over but when it comes to Daught, he will move mountains for her. He looks at her, the way I want a young man in my daughter's life to look at her. You know the type of look, its not worship or gratitude, its much sweeter and softer.
He is a Nascar nut. And I do mean nut. He drives a huge diesel four by four and will step out of it wearing bright red sandals, (yes with socks) with the number eight in black on them. Now I know I will never be the mother in law of his dreams cause I haven't a clue who is what in racing and let's not tell him I really don't care. What was cute was, Daught getting out of the truck in a bright pink racing cap, with Nascar on it. I think every man needs an obsession. My father's was Football. At least racing is easy to understand. Cars go around the track and the first one finished wins. In football there are two teams that beat each other up and fight over a funny shaped ball that doesn't even bounce. Then there is all the stupid rules, kick offs, stand offs and and lines on the field that indicate something of importance. Don't even get me going on how annoying the announcers are on the television. (Not that we have that problem as we have a Tv just not hooked up to any channels)
I don't know if Artist, or Scribble experience this but the other reason why I have not been blogging lately is the fact I have been hammering out my next story because if I don't my brain is going to explode. One of the character's is developing his own story in the back of my head so I will be hammering a sequel to the one I am presently embroiled in. Another character is demanding attention as well so she might develope into a story after that. Of course there is also two other stories that my head has been floating to and thinking about. Once I get stuff out on the screen the void in my head seems to fill as fast as it empties. I can feel other stuff brewing too.
I have one in my head that I am working on by hand because I find the flow of writing by hand sometimes helps with the thought process. But this one I know will challenge me not just by the story line but deeper emotional issues that have arisen. The thing is they are not bad but rather an acknowledgement of something that I really am not ready to admit yet. So there it sits twisting around in my head like a vortex that can't quit settle into a rhythym.
Border is moving out at the end of the month. I can't sit by and watch someone self-destruct under my roof and not say something. Just doesn't work for me. She has hooked up with some guy who was fired from his job where she works, who has never been seen sober, cheats on her and most likely sells drugs for an income because he is too lazy to do anything else. She made the mistake of bragging to me how he pays for everything without a job. Yeah, like I'm stupid. So either he was gone or she was gone.
There comes a point in a person's life when beating your head against the wall only resulting in the hole getting bigger. (Sometimes it feels really good when you've stopped too) Hubby and I want our house back to ourselves. The Guinea Pig will be staying with us permently. For one Hubby and I could not live with ourselves for letting her go and something happening to her, the second reason is, Border mentioned several times of us looking after her after Border left. So Molly the Guinea Pig is now an official member of the household. I do adore the little rat. She has tons of personality.
Hubby and I recently made a trip north to see his father who is ill and the newest edition to the family, our second grandchild. I'm not a baby person. I like 'em when they have personality that I can warp. Its fun but as babies they really don't do a whole lot. It was a great trip. We arrived to see our son who was held in the drunk tank and his wife not knowing what was going on. So we continued on to see Hubby's parents.
It was a wierd trip. Both Hubby and I felt it. I wish I could explain but its hard. As we were heading North, the song Rolling Home by Rednex came over the speakers. The video of the song is the great white north and where we used to live, could look like a christmas card after a snowfall. Hubby switched the song. I noticed he was choked up a little but I didn't say anything. For him I knew it was more than returning home, it was also in some ways saying goodbye. For me I was revisiting and realizing that much of how I had felt towards the place was not all bad.
I am product of the North. I was born in a Northern city that as per the usual was transient and tougher than Hubs of Hell. I grew up in the North, married and raised a child there. The North provided for me with jobs both growing up for my father and then later on for me. I would not have made the money I did if I had lived else where. I would not have met the man I absolutely adore anywhere else.
My husband is not is mother's favourite. This is a well known fact through the family. Personally I think my Hubby is the pick but then I might be a little biased. I told Hubby's mother at one point through out the visit that she should be proud of her son. I told her he was an amazing husband which he is. He does have the DNA of the stupid male qualities of his male lineage but he has along with me worked out some of the major kinks. Its been quiet a ride but now I really like the fact we are coasting along together and not in separate lanes on opposite sides. I told his mother that we had to teach ourselves how to communicate with each other. The fact that my Hubby was willing to, in order to put ourselves in a better place amazes me.
What amazed me more was the way my Hubby talked to his mother. His family is not the most respectful to each other because they are unaware of their tones with each other. Impatient, snappy and snarky are some of the words I would use to describe their tones especially towards their mother. (I told Hubby once his tone with his mother was disrespectful and nasty) They never thought about it. Hubby and I did the same until we realized it was not working and changed our approach and temperment. Hubby never once through the visit used his old tones with her. As a matter of fact, I noticed some of the way she responded softened as well. It was really cool to see that.
I wished that Artist could have come along. The area was in its glory as usual for the three weeks of fall. Then the snow hits and doesn't leave for ten months. I didn't like the fact that the snow capped mountains were looking fuller than usual. I figure they are in for a hard winter, which means it may be coming our way too. I just can't think that far ahead.
I mentioned to Artist that I wanted a zucchini. I like loaves and cakes that the squash makes. Lest I ask, for she delivered. I have a zucchini that could batter down the castle gates without so much as putting a scratch on it. This thing is massive. The nice thing about Artist is she doesn't outwardly laugh at you. She giggles at you while reminding you of your words. Yes, I had mentioned I wanted a large zucchini because the ones in the store and farmer's market weren't quite large enough for what I wanted to do. I was not expecting however, a squash the length of my arm and the thickness of a tree trunk. (Okay so its only five inches but still a tree can have a trunk that size.) I swear she giggled all the way home with the zucchini strapped on the roof of her car cause it wouldn't fit in the seat belt.
So, I've been looking up zucchini recipes. I keep overing some to my mother but she smiles at me and refuses having been in the dillema herself. I think my mother thinks I'm a little of for getting rid of the microwave, dishwasher and dryer. They all cost us money. I can hang clothes and towels to dry, do dishes by hand and reheat in the toaster oven if need be. I'm preparing for our old and frugal years. By then I plan on being a fianancial burden on my daughter. It should be some good times.
Saturday, July 14, 2007
MOB
So, my daughter and her boyfriend came over to visit one night last week. It was a really good visit until my daughter left for a moment. Her boyfriend very sweetly asked Hubby and I permission to take our daughter's hand in marriage.
Hubby reached into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill and slid it across the table. He said it wasn't much but to put it into the gas tank and run. Deep down, I could tell he was so pleased and really didn't know what to say. I told my daughter's boyfriend, (who is an absolute sweetie) that we would be delighted to call him our son in law.
They tried to keep it a secret for a while. But you know when something is up and you just can't put your finger on it. Border was acting weepy, Daughter looked like a deer in head lights, Boyfriend was seeming like there was something wrong. I knew something was in wind, but to be honest, I was positive they were going to come and tell me that I was going to a grandmother. Thank God my suspicions were wrong this time. Good thing I kept my thoughts quiet.
Now my darling daughter says to me, that we will have to meet Fiance`'s parents. This is fine until she says it will be like the movie, Meeting the Fockers. Guess who the Focker's are in this scenario? So I'm thinking I'll frizz out my hair, wear those lovely bright colored caftan's and Birkenstock sandals for the meeting of the parents. I would love to see the look on daughter's face if I arrived like that. I'll be good. I promise. (And yes the fingers and toes are crossed)
Knowing her, she will be on edge worried that I will say something that would embarrass her. Not that I ever have in the past but she is aways worried what the next guy thinks. I can't be too hard on her. Artist would remind me that I was very much the same way once.
So long as its not a Lord of the Rings, Matrix or Nascar wedding or anything else odd, I'll be a happy Mother of the Bride. Actually I'll be the one in the corner with the frizzy hair, orange, blue and purple caftan and a bottle wine. Cause, I plan on being drunk the entire time. It's the only way I'll get through it.
Hubby reached into his pocket and pulled out a five dollar bill and slid it across the table. He said it wasn't much but to put it into the gas tank and run. Deep down, I could tell he was so pleased and really didn't know what to say. I told my daughter's boyfriend, (who is an absolute sweetie) that we would be delighted to call him our son in law.
They tried to keep it a secret for a while. But you know when something is up and you just can't put your finger on it. Border was acting weepy, Daughter looked like a deer in head lights, Boyfriend was seeming like there was something wrong. I knew something was in wind, but to be honest, I was positive they were going to come and tell me that I was going to a grandmother. Thank God my suspicions were wrong this time. Good thing I kept my thoughts quiet.
Now my darling daughter says to me, that we will have to meet Fiance`'s parents. This is fine until she says it will be like the movie, Meeting the Fockers. Guess who the Focker's are in this scenario? So I'm thinking I'll frizz out my hair, wear those lovely bright colored caftan's and Birkenstock sandals for the meeting of the parents. I would love to see the look on daughter's face if I arrived like that. I'll be good. I promise. (And yes the fingers and toes are crossed)
Knowing her, she will be on edge worried that I will say something that would embarrass her. Not that I ever have in the past but she is aways worried what the next guy thinks. I can't be too hard on her. Artist would remind me that I was very much the same way once.
So long as its not a Lord of the Rings, Matrix or Nascar wedding or anything else odd, I'll be a happy Mother of the Bride. Actually I'll be the one in the corner with the frizzy hair, orange, blue and purple caftan and a bottle wine. Cause, I plan on being drunk the entire time. It's the only way I'll get through it.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Thoughts with my Coffee
Okay that was a crazy entrance. The sign in screen kept flashing at my until I refreshed and it seem to work out the twitch.
Its finally a quiet day. Its cloudy so I've been plugging away at the house although there doesn't seem to be much of an improvement since yesterday. Well I did move the Pizza boxes. Yes I do let Hubby order in now and then. He needs the cholesterol and fat kick. Actually its the lesser of several evils. I had a grilled cheese sandwich cause the idea of the pizza really made me ill. So he was a happy camper.
So work is okay. We have a couple of new employees. One who has been described to me as a different duck, I refer to her as the Crazy Cosmetic Lady. She is brutally upfront and she seems to have a few issues indicated by that edgy tone in her voice she can't quite hide. I have been reassured that she has a wicked sense of humour. If that be the case then things will be fine. But if it continues to hide, then I have to rethink my total approach.
You see, I have had a lot of work situations at a previous job that left me very scarred. Rhode Island was my rock during the time afterwards when the shock, and anger hit of the crap that was pulled. We communicated back and forth with emails, and a couple of times over the phone. Any advice I need with cats, Artist and Rhode are the two I listen to. She not helped me deal with things but she also was my friend at a time when I was bitterly lonely and scared. We haven't talked lately but I know she is busy with her life and I with mine. I won't ever let her go as she is a part of my foundation of from who I was to now. Just to let you know Rhode, I miss my friend and I still send you lots of light.
Because of my experience, I work very hard at becoming one of the flock and I work at keeping the peace. Having been both in management and the employee, I can say without a doubt it sucks on both sides. At my one job, I was the go between, for my workmates and management. It worked well. The result was, when I left, everybody liked me. It was one hell of an achievement for a person who always ended up in a personality conflict. I figure Crazy Cosmetic Lady is my final test. The Fates have a serious problem with their sense of humour; its totally twisted.
You know what is really annoying. My washer when it is done, plays a little tune. My mother thinks that was one of the features that attracted me. Yeah, along with a beeping bread maker, a timer that does not shut off by its self on the stove and the little ding on the toaster oven, I could make music in the kitchen. Its enough to drive me nuts some days. No wonder I feel nagged. Between the appliances and the guinea pig, I can never get a moment without something demanding my attention. And Hubby wonders why some days I go a little bonkers.
I told him one day that I figured out that if we did a totem pole for the house, I would be at the bottom and the guinea pig will me at the top. She even squeaks at the dogs for her greens and fruit.
Now that I have gotten my niggle for the day, I can go continue my quartet in the kitchen. If I don't shoot the washer first.
Its finally a quiet day. Its cloudy so I've been plugging away at the house although there doesn't seem to be much of an improvement since yesterday. Well I did move the Pizza boxes. Yes I do let Hubby order in now and then. He needs the cholesterol and fat kick. Actually its the lesser of several evils. I had a grilled cheese sandwich cause the idea of the pizza really made me ill. So he was a happy camper.
So work is okay. We have a couple of new employees. One who has been described to me as a different duck, I refer to her as the Crazy Cosmetic Lady. She is brutally upfront and she seems to have a few issues indicated by that edgy tone in her voice she can't quite hide. I have been reassured that she has a wicked sense of humour. If that be the case then things will be fine. But if it continues to hide, then I have to rethink my total approach.
You see, I have had a lot of work situations at a previous job that left me very scarred. Rhode Island was my rock during the time afterwards when the shock, and anger hit of the crap that was pulled. We communicated back and forth with emails, and a couple of times over the phone. Any advice I need with cats, Artist and Rhode are the two I listen to. She not helped me deal with things but she also was my friend at a time when I was bitterly lonely and scared. We haven't talked lately but I know she is busy with her life and I with mine. I won't ever let her go as she is a part of my foundation of from who I was to now. Just to let you know Rhode, I miss my friend and I still send you lots of light.
Because of my experience, I work very hard at becoming one of the flock and I work at keeping the peace. Having been both in management and the employee, I can say without a doubt it sucks on both sides. At my one job, I was the go between, for my workmates and management. It worked well. The result was, when I left, everybody liked me. It was one hell of an achievement for a person who always ended up in a personality conflict. I figure Crazy Cosmetic Lady is my final test. The Fates have a serious problem with their sense of humour; its totally twisted.
You know what is really annoying. My washer when it is done, plays a little tune. My mother thinks that was one of the features that attracted me. Yeah, along with a beeping bread maker, a timer that does not shut off by its self on the stove and the little ding on the toaster oven, I could make music in the kitchen. Its enough to drive me nuts some days. No wonder I feel nagged. Between the appliances and the guinea pig, I can never get a moment without something demanding my attention. And Hubby wonders why some days I go a little bonkers.
I told him one day that I figured out that if we did a totem pole for the house, I would be at the bottom and the guinea pig will me at the top. She even squeaks at the dogs for her greens and fruit.
Now that I have gotten my niggle for the day, I can go continue my quartet in the kitchen. If I don't shoot the washer first.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Hugs, Kisses, Massages and whatever else comes to mind.
Huge hugs and kisses to Scribble for the beautiful artwork she sent to me. Unfortunately when I try to up load the images to show them off, my computer comes up with an error but they are nicely displayed on Artist's blog. I have been showing them off to everybody who walks through the door. Right now they are sitting on my dresser waiting for their frames and permanent spots on the wall. They make everybody smile. Thank you so much Scribble.
I have been trying to sit and blog for the last three days but every time I do, the phone rings, Hubby wants to go look for a phone, Border is having another dramatic episode in her life. It's enough to drive anyone to drink. (Although these days it doesn't take much) My only respet is when Artist comes for coffee or I'm at work.
Speaking of Artist, I gave her a dog massage book for Christmas one year as she expressed wanting to learn how to give her Beagle disguised as a Lab massages. Little did I know what it would lead to. She slowly has been winning over our Chihuahua with these massages. What has resulted in is all five dogs lining up for a rub down. As soon as one has had enough, another muzzle is nudging her hand and bobbling eyes at her. The Airedale actually starts to purr. (Low moans and grunts. Not a nice sound) Even the cat was waiting for her one afternoon.
Hubby is finally back to work. I love the man dearly but I'm thinking that retirement with him is going to be hell. I'm already planning his to do list and no computers until it done. He will drive me insane. Its the little things he does, like pace frantically when talking on the phone or never hanging up his coat. Some days all he has to do is breath around me and its sending me over the edge.
I need my alone time. If I don't get it, I tend to get very cranky. Its during my alone time that stuff gets physically or mentally get tossed. With Hubby here, I can't get that time. He thinks staying out of my hair, is hiding on the computer or playing in mud in the backyard. No, because every time he walks into the room I know he is going to say or do something that warrants my attention. I'm really hoping by retirement, there is a work shed somewhere in the backyard with a ton of lumber and a pound of nails. He can go build things and sell them.
You know you need to sweep the stairs when the dogs leave a wake of dust bunnies trailing behind them. Its either that or the dust bunnies have now united under one union and are hunting their prey. Now they are following the cat.
I'd better go get the broom.
I have been trying to sit and blog for the last three days but every time I do, the phone rings, Hubby wants to go look for a phone, Border is having another dramatic episode in her life. It's enough to drive anyone to drink. (Although these days it doesn't take much) My only respet is when Artist comes for coffee or I'm at work.
Speaking of Artist, I gave her a dog massage book for Christmas one year as she expressed wanting to learn how to give her Beagle disguised as a Lab massages. Little did I know what it would lead to. She slowly has been winning over our Chihuahua with these massages. What has resulted in is all five dogs lining up for a rub down. As soon as one has had enough, another muzzle is nudging her hand and bobbling eyes at her. The Airedale actually starts to purr. (Low moans and grunts. Not a nice sound) Even the cat was waiting for her one afternoon.
Hubby is finally back to work. I love the man dearly but I'm thinking that retirement with him is going to be hell. I'm already planning his to do list and no computers until it done. He will drive me insane. Its the little things he does, like pace frantically when talking on the phone or never hanging up his coat. Some days all he has to do is breath around me and its sending me over the edge.
I need my alone time. If I don't get it, I tend to get very cranky. Its during my alone time that stuff gets physically or mentally get tossed. With Hubby here, I can't get that time. He thinks staying out of my hair, is hiding on the computer or playing in mud in the backyard. No, because every time he walks into the room I know he is going to say or do something that warrants my attention. I'm really hoping by retirement, there is a work shed somewhere in the backyard with a ton of lumber and a pound of nails. He can go build things and sell them.
You know you need to sweep the stairs when the dogs leave a wake of dust bunnies trailing behind them. Its either that or the dust bunnies have now united under one union and are hunting their prey. Now they are following the cat.
I'd better go get the broom.
Thursday, June 07, 2007
My Escape
This is looking through the archway onto the patio at night. The faded lights are butterfly lights interwoven in all the lilacs.
At night, the backyard is lit up. Hubby has butterfly lights in the trees that hang over the pond site. It changes from Zen to Enchanted when the stars come out.
A close up of the waterfall from the newest edition.
Hidden in the corner
Patches looking for intruders in the neighbourhood.
The only way to nap
Pond water come highly recommended by the Beagle.
The stream by the lilac bush (that never blooms) is the latest edition.
At night, the backyard is lit up. Hubby has butterfly lights in the trees that hang over the pond site. It changes from Zen to Enchanted when the stars come out.
A close up of the waterfall from the newest edition.
Hidden in the corner
Patches looking for intruders in the neighbourhood.
The only way to nap
Pond water come highly recommended by the Beagle.
The stream by the lilac bush (that never blooms) is the latest edition.Tuesday, June 05, 2007
Haiku for Artist
So the Haiku bug bit me. Here's one for you Artist.
Spotlight
Her blue eyes smile
As she twirls in the light.
Artist has arrived.
Spotlight
Her blue eyes smile
As she twirls in the light.
Artist has arrived.
Monday, June 04, 2007
Hubby and his projects
Hubby is presently working on the fishpond while I sit here and recover from last night’s stint at work. It’s a nice windy day so the mosquitoes are having a hard time with their attacks in waves.
So far I have had to admire five rocks being placed twice and one three times. Next will come the fact that he needs another piece of rock, which I will not only have to admire but I will have to discuss the fact as to why it looks better.
Okay so here’s where I start rummaging through the house looking for my organic wine and I’m thinking the robaxa-whatever might be a nice chaser. Now I could go inside and actually get some stuff done. But then I would have to stop what I’m doing and come outside and admire another freakin’ rock every time he puts one in place. So you can see my dilemma.
This is the point I speak up voluntarily and say how good it looks. I realize this may sound a little cruel because I do enjoy the fishpond so much but…..
Can’t they just go out and play building whatever monument they feel the need to build without calling for praise every ten minutes? Yesterday Hubby poured cement!!! Did the pharaohs do the same thing to their wives. "Look my little papya, another stone has been placed. Come see. What do you think?" No wonder so many men in history met with an early death. They died from the slow smothering of a pillow in the middle of the night.
It’s a good thing I love that man to death cause I’d a been an alcoholic by now. It’s the same thing with the Christmas Village or fixing up the bathroom. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.
I think I hear that wine calling.
So far I have had to admire five rocks being placed twice and one three times. Next will come the fact that he needs another piece of rock, which I will not only have to admire but I will have to discuss the fact as to why it looks better.
Okay so here’s where I start rummaging through the house looking for my organic wine and I’m thinking the robaxa-whatever might be a nice chaser. Now I could go inside and actually get some stuff done. But then I would have to stop what I’m doing and come outside and admire another freakin’ rock every time he puts one in place. So you can see my dilemma.
This is the point I speak up voluntarily and say how good it looks. I realize this may sound a little cruel because I do enjoy the fishpond so much but…..
Can’t they just go out and play building whatever monument they feel the need to build without calling for praise every ten minutes? Yesterday Hubby poured cement!!! Did the pharaohs do the same thing to their wives. "Look my little papya, another stone has been placed. Come see. What do you think?" No wonder so many men in history met with an early death. They died from the slow smothering of a pillow in the middle of the night.
It’s a good thing I love that man to death cause I’d a been an alcoholic by now. It’s the same thing with the Christmas Village or fixing up the bathroom. You’d think I’d be used to it by now.
I think I hear that wine calling.
Tuesday, May 22, 2007
Tikki at 41
Yesterday I turned 41. There was no cake as the idea totally repulsed me so instead I offered out gingersnaps. Dad had five so I take it they were good. Too bad I won't be able to make them again. You see the mollasses was too strong and the sugar to balance the taste wasn't enough so I had to fiddle with the butter and the sugar to combat the mollasses. Then I worried that they were too short but they were perfect. And I can never make them again. Hubby hates that when it happens. He is however getting used to the fact that somethings will never be replicated.
Hubby has been getting used to a few things lately, like spinach salad. I keep giving it to him as he does not eat enough greens. Like he wants the world to know that. Poor guy, I figure one of these days he is going to snap and rage like a bull in a china shop in the grocery store going for the processed luncheon meats and snack foods. Its a good thing I love that man or I'd been an alcoholic a few years ago.
He bought me really neat dragons and Buddah heads for the fish pond. The theme this year is Tikki. We need to provide ourselves with a wee bit of privacy from the neighbours. We decided the way to go was with a Tikki bar and a screen of some kind behind. The end result should be interesting to say the least.
Border and Daughter are planning to experiment with bartending this year. I'm not sure if I should be worried or not. I guess we'll see what the drinks taste like first. Border is trying to find organic alcohol. Like I said interesting.
Until then I will continue to hunt down and expose the lairs of dust beasts in my house. One actually attacked the broom. It was scary.
Hubby has been getting used to a few things lately, like spinach salad. I keep giving it to him as he does not eat enough greens. Like he wants the world to know that. Poor guy, I figure one of these days he is going to snap and rage like a bull in a china shop in the grocery store going for the processed luncheon meats and snack foods. Its a good thing I love that man or I'd been an alcoholic a few years ago.
He bought me really neat dragons and Buddah heads for the fish pond. The theme this year is Tikki. We need to provide ourselves with a wee bit of privacy from the neighbours. We decided the way to go was with a Tikki bar and a screen of some kind behind. The end result should be interesting to say the least.
Border and Daughter are planning to experiment with bartending this year. I'm not sure if I should be worried or not. I guess we'll see what the drinks taste like first. Border is trying to find organic alcohol. Like I said interesting.
Until then I will continue to hunt down and expose the lairs of dust beasts in my house. One actually attacked the broom. It was scary.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Work Rant
I came home from work last night with a brain piercing headache. I had been battling it all day and finally had it under control when I went to work. The up and down weather has been really mucking with my mind.
I was fine at work until a woman with her screaming three yr old came to the till. I'm not sure what the kid wanted but everytime she said no, this demonic child would let out an ear piercing scream. Every time this kid screamed it felt like somebody was slamming a steal rod into my head. Here's a hint to the public. If your kids are screaming, TAKE THEM OUT OF THE STORE.
Its why I hate shopping at Walmart or the grocery store. Every where you turn, there a kid screaming its head off. I love the one store I shop at for the majority of my shopping, soft lights, calming music and no screaming kids. They did finally left the store. I wasn't the only one who was happy to see them leave.
It was when I got back up to the till, when I looked up to help a customer and I could feel myself going down. My head exploded and that was it. I couldn't see, I couldn't breath, every noise reverbarated inside my head intensifying the pain. Somebody called my husband and I vaguely remember him showing up. I remember him leading me out of the store as I covered my face from the light. I know I tried peeking to try to see the floor, but a flash of light hit my brain and I buried my eyes into hands. The only voice I could hear was his because he kept it low and quiet.
I was fine at work until a woman with her screaming three yr old came to the till. I'm not sure what the kid wanted but everytime she said no, this demonic child would let out an ear piercing scream. Every time this kid screamed it felt like somebody was slamming a steal rod into my head. Here's a hint to the public. If your kids are screaming, TAKE THEM OUT OF THE STORE.
Its why I hate shopping at Walmart or the grocery store. Every where you turn, there a kid screaming its head off. I love the one store I shop at for the majority of my shopping, soft lights, calming music and no screaming kids. They did finally left the store. I wasn't the only one who was happy to see them leave.
It was when I got back up to the till, when I looked up to help a customer and I could feel myself going down. My head exploded and that was it. I couldn't see, I couldn't breath, every noise reverbarated inside my head intensifying the pain. Somebody called my husband and I vaguely remember him showing up. I remember him leading me out of the store as I covered my face from the light. I know I tried peeking to try to see the floor, but a flash of light hit my brain and I buried my eyes into hands. The only voice I could hear was his because he kept it low and quiet.
Hubby is about the only one who can get through to me when I'm like that. The other thing is, the only person I want went I go down like that is my Hubby. His voice is actually calming. Of course him telling me I have to go to the hospital for a shot never helps either.
I hate the shot. I will do what ever I can to avoid the shot. Its a mixture of two medicines. One for the head and the other for the nausea the first med gives you. Most people are able to sleep it off within twelve to eighteen hours. Not me. I lose the first twenty-four hours because I'm pretty much in a coma. The next two days are like walking through a fog and you can not fight your way through the haze. I tried. Its like when you first wake up and you can't think clearly. Yeah, that's so much fun to go through with teenagers in the house. You know, they can be quick when they want to be.
What really choked me, was I had the headache under control before I went to work. Because my headaches pretty much lay me flat, I work very hard at avoiding what triggers the headaches. I may joke about the wine, but on the whole wine is the worst for me. (Organic Wine is okay but not four bottles at one sitting by me alone) I don't watch movies because the flashing of one scene to the next can trigger a headache, I don't listen to rock or harsh music because the beat is a trigger. I will avoid the phone etc.
Now I know its not the mother's fault or the kid's that I wound up on the floor with a migraine. But it really pisses me off, that these so-called parents let their children disrupt everyone around them because they need their crisps or pop. I hauled my nephew out everytime he pulled it. I refused to take him to the store because he pulled it. He is also ADHD. (I lived with my older sister and her two for ten years. Two single divorced moms. It seemed like the thing to do.)
Okay...Big Sigh... and Release.
Thursday should be a better day.
Sunday, May 13, 2007
Mother's Day
So today is Mother's Day and my daughter came over with the neatest looking vase with a bamboo thingy coming out of the top. The vase has all the colours of the house. It was kind of neat because while my daughter was visiting my Mom came over. It was really neat because it was just the three of us. We just had coffee and were talking about stuff.
You see my daughter has always felt a little different from everyone else. She is petite, dark, with exotic eyes that can be dark and broody or innocent and light depending on her mood. She has always had the ability to see into the very soul of people and know their innermost fears and secrets. I have been told often enough by people how beautiful she is and how sweet she is. The latter is usually a wee bit of a shocker for those who meet me first and then my daughter or visa versa. I do explain the sweetness has never been credited to my bloodlines.
I am very proud as a mother of my daughter, cause somewhere alone the line I did something right. She is an independant young woman, with a high set standards and a back bone. She is true to herself and to others because of it. Exactly like my mother. Both have a strong sense of right and wrong. Both have a strong sense of identity and both feel at times like they are(as my mother so eloquently put) floating leaves on water.
I had to laugh, my sister repeated a story to me of her trip into the city with my parents. My father was discussing my daughter's passion for reading and her choices being of a university level. He did not understand her not wanting to go to school but prefering to just read. He couldn't figure out where it came from. My mother who is sitting there just looked at him. My sister is saying, "Hello, have you met Mom?"
My mother is a voracious reader like my daughter. My mother has read books, like Mien Kemf in order to understand the thinking of such a man like Hitler. I won't get into the books on the concentration camps. Those I could not get past the first two or three chapters without feeling sick to my stomach. For a while she read a lot on forensics and serial killers where I got my fascination from it. (Way before CSI) But then she went back to the...well you know. Some of my mother's so called fluff reading or mind candy was more like pea soup fog. Certainly not what I call mind candy.
My daughter is the same way. She was reading Bram Stoker's Dracula and Mary Shelly's Frankenstien for fun. She ploughed through Jane Ayre because she loved the BBC series of it. She then read the Lord of the Rings Trilogy. The woman at the bookstore spent an hour telling me how well read my daughter is and how intelligent her choices are. I'm in there buying futuristic romance keeping abreast of what out there. Yeah there's a moment I don't need to recapture.
I told my daughter that right now in her life the person who understood her the most was her Grandmother. I think its important to have that in your life. It doesn't matter who, but as long as there is somebody that can identify you or you with them it will make the rough patches a little easier. It makes some of the scary stuff not so scary.
What is really cool is watching two floating leaves connect. With my mother and daughter its rather like watching two souls communicate on a level that you know you can't reach and they are sharing an inside joke and nobody else will ever understand.
Yeah...its a good day.
Tuesday, May 08, 2007
Need a Break
Okay folks you might want to pull up a chair and grab a cup of coffee. Putting up your feet might be a good idea cause it's been a while and I have a lot to say these days.
This weekend was Hubby's birthday. Don't ask him how it was. Not only did I have to work, but he was wallowing in water at my parents where they sprung a leak. You see, we had four days of warmish rain that ended in wet slushy snow. It drove the frost out of the ground so fast the earth could not absorb it. Hence the indoor wading pool in Mom and Dad's basement.
My parents are a unique team. My father is six feet' two, and Italian. His family hails from Northern Italy. My mother is five feet and two inches. She would like to tell you she is five foot three but I'm pretty sure she shrunk in the last couple of years. My mother is blond (still. and yes it ticks me off)(cause I'm gray all over) with pale exotic green eyes. Haven't a clue where it came from because one side was British and the other Canadian Prairie. (Our version of rednecks.) They still make a very striking couple when they walk into a room.
My mother can be a tad obsessive when she gets worried. My father just gets mad. Now put the two together and what do you get? Total chaos. Actually its not quite that bad but when you walk into it, your third eye begins to immediately pierce a shard of glass into your brain. Or
at least mine does. Hubby manages to keep me sane at moments like this. Its a divide and conquer kind of thing.
I get a phone call at the ungodly hour of...really really early. I think around 7 am. Now I know for you early birds like my Mom, that you will be the first to forage for the worms. But I'm up at night, and I've eaten, sooooo I don't really need that worm. Anyway, I digressed there. I get up bleary eyed and answer the phone. Mom tells me that Dad is on his way to Home Depot to get a shop vac to get rid of the water in the basement.
Now this is where things get very fuzzy as I was up late the night before visiting with Hubby (Cause we haven't seen each other with this working thing). He was working on my website (which I will rant...I mean blog about after) There was two phone calls within fifteen minutes. In one of those phone calls I had to check our basement to reassure Mom, ours was okay. The trip
down the main stairs when one is groggy is bad enough with the shoes placed as obstacles. Then there's the 90 degree angled staircase to the depth of the crawl space under the house.
I recommend for future reference that I will not attempt that feat again. I emerged from the basement for a new found respect for stuntmen. The good news is, the puddle that had formed at the beginning of the rain was still the same size.
It was the second phone call that I realized I was not getting anymore sleep as my mother then proceeded to vent about my father using her bissel cleaner to suck up the water he was pouring down the drain which turned into a whole other venue. I was making some very strong coffee at that moment knowing within the depths of my heart I am going to have to wake up Hubby and let him know that we have to go over. If only to rescue my mother.
This weekend was Hubby's birthday. Don't ask him how it was. Not only did I have to work, but he was wallowing in water at my parents where they sprung a leak. You see, we had four days of warmish rain that ended in wet slushy snow. It drove the frost out of the ground so fast the earth could not absorb it. Hence the indoor wading pool in Mom and Dad's basement.
My parents are a unique team. My father is six feet' two, and Italian. His family hails from Northern Italy. My mother is five feet and two inches. She would like to tell you she is five foot three but I'm pretty sure she shrunk in the last couple of years. My mother is blond (still. and yes it ticks me off)(cause I'm gray all over) with pale exotic green eyes. Haven't a clue where it came from because one side was British and the other Canadian Prairie. (Our version of rednecks.) They still make a very striking couple when they walk into a room.
My mother can be a tad obsessive when she gets worried. My father just gets mad. Now put the two together and what do you get? Total chaos. Actually its not quite that bad but when you walk into it, your third eye begins to immediately pierce a shard of glass into your brain. Or
at least mine does. Hubby manages to keep me sane at moments like this. Its a divide and conquer kind of thing.
I get a phone call at the ungodly hour of...really really early. I think around 7 am. Now I know for you early birds like my Mom, that you will be the first to forage for the worms. But I'm up at night, and I've eaten, sooooo I don't really need that worm. Anyway, I digressed there. I get up bleary eyed and answer the phone. Mom tells me that Dad is on his way to Home Depot to get a shop vac to get rid of the water in the basement.
Now this is where things get very fuzzy as I was up late the night before visiting with Hubby (Cause we haven't seen each other with this working thing). He was working on my website (which I will rant...I mean blog about after) There was two phone calls within fifteen minutes. In one of those phone calls I had to check our basement to reassure Mom, ours was okay. The trip
down the main stairs when one is groggy is bad enough with the shoes placed as obstacles. Then there's the 90 degree angled staircase to the depth of the crawl space under the house.
I recommend for future reference that I will not attempt that feat again. I emerged from the basement for a new found respect for stuntmen. The good news is, the puddle that had formed at the beginning of the rain was still the same size.
It was the second phone call that I realized I was not getting anymore sleep as my mother then proceeded to vent about my father using her bissel cleaner to suck up the water he was pouring down the drain which turned into a whole other venue. I was making some very strong coffee at that moment knowing within the depths of my heart I am going to have to wake up Hubby and let him know that we have to go over. If only to rescue my mother.
When Dad gets mad at a situation he can have two reactions. The one that really terrifies us is the silent reaction with the cheek pulsating. This means he is really pissed. Then the explosion. It has only happened once or twice. I was at least once. The second reaction is to get mad at my mother. Like she had anything to do with it. And we all know including my mother that he is
mad at the situation not her. Doesn't make it any easier to deal with but at least we know where it is coming from.
mad at the situation not her. Doesn't make it any easier to deal with but at least we know where it is coming from.
At 8:30 the official call for help came in. Mom was really upset because Dad was handling the situation in his usual manner and she was getting really tired of being yelled at. This in turn has her even more stressed with the situation. I go upstairs and have to tell Hubby, who now yells at me because his pissed as having to deal with the situation. At this point, I'm wondering if
it's too early for the cherry whisky in the fridge?
it's too early for the cherry whisky in the fridge?
The bright spot was that Dad got a really skookum shop vac. (Mom gave the go ahead)
Now here's where the divide and conquer comes in. Hubby helps Dad, while Mom and I stay out of the way and drink coffee. I did say to Mom that she was pushing her practical gift idea to the extreme by throwing a practical birthday party for Hubby. The basement is still pretty wet but at least the ducks are no longer knocking at the door.
Hubby did say it made for an interesting birthday.
Hubby the other night was nagging me over some of the promotional stuff that I should have
been doing but I was in the middle of pounding out my next story. I looked up at him and said, "I don't know what I'm doing. All I want to do is write." He stood up and said, "That's it. I'm taking over." I said "Fine by me." and went back to writing.
been doing but I was in the middle of pounding out my next story. I looked up at him and said, "I don't know what I'm doing. All I want to do is write." He stood up and said, "That's it. I'm taking over." I said "Fine by me." and went back to writing.
It took me two weeks to do the temporary site and figure out how to do certain things. Hubby does two up in a matter of three days. Have you ever just wanted to reach out and smack somebody? Yeah, I had that moment for about an hour. Its now up and running. I actually feel better with Hubby taking things over. It keeps him in the loop but out of my hair at the same
time. I thinks its a win win agreement.
time. I thinks its a win win agreement.
I so can't wait until the truck is paid off and once I pick up Hubby a pond heater for the fish in the winter, I am done. I'm actually enjoying my job and I have met some really sweet people. The customer's on the whole are great. I can't take the floor. It's tile on cement. By the end
of my shift, my knees and hips are screaming at me. The till is like that inch too high and so
are the counters which is wreaking havoc on my shoulders. Its ridiculous. I'm mentally fine but my body is taking a beating. Its not like the job is overly physical but because everything is
for somebody six feet ten inches tall, it makes it hard on the body for us who are not the so called average.
of my shift, my knees and hips are screaming at me. The till is like that inch too high and so
are the counters which is wreaking havoc on my shoulders. Its ridiculous. I'm mentally fine but my body is taking a beating. Its not like the job is overly physical but because everything is
for somebody six feet ten inches tall, it makes it hard on the body for us who are not the so called average.
I set the pond up with the furniture yesterday. I can't wait until I can be out there on a full time basis. Its only a matter of days now.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
Morning Rambling
I’ve been totally ditched this weekend to use the vocabulary of my daughter. Artist is off with her family, doing… well…I guess family stuff. I only wish I knew her itinerary so I could warn them of the potential cookie thief amongst them.
Hubby is working and already planning the fishpond. He is bringing home these huge slabs of god knows what to put around the edge. He wants to me to buy beer to entice the young men hanging around the girls to help pour cement to finish off the one section of patio. The best laid plans of mice and men.
I just felt the first twitch of caffeine. I was beginning to worry there. I think my coffee addiction is getting the better of me. The cast of play I just directed gave me a little key chain with the words:
"Given enough coffee I could rule the world."
True. Very True.
I love the smell of coffee first thing in the morning. It doesn’t matter if it is the coldest day in winter or the warmest of summer days. In the winter it offers warmth and coziness of being trapped indoors. In the summer, the aroma permeates the dewy morning air, while it perks on the stove wafting through the open kitchen windows.
After dinner I love to have a pressed coffee for desert. A pressed, is using the coffee carafe that has a filter like a plunger. You put the coffee in the bottom of the carafe and pour boiling water over it filling the carafe to about two inches from the top. I let it stand for about three to five minutes then push the filter down. Pour into cup, add cream and sugar to taste then sip. Ooooh it’s so good. Almost as good as sex, even better some days.
I think today is a pressed coffee day with the looming rain clouds. I think I’ll cuddle up with a book and the dogs on the sofa with my elixir of life. Now that's a plan.
Hubby is working and already planning the fishpond. He is bringing home these huge slabs of god knows what to put around the edge. He wants to me to buy beer to entice the young men hanging around the girls to help pour cement to finish off the one section of patio. The best laid plans of mice and men.
I just felt the first twitch of caffeine. I was beginning to worry there. I think my coffee addiction is getting the better of me. The cast of play I just directed gave me a little key chain with the words:
"Given enough coffee I could rule the world."
True. Very True.
I love the smell of coffee first thing in the morning. It doesn’t matter if it is the coldest day in winter or the warmest of summer days. In the winter it offers warmth and coziness of being trapped indoors. In the summer, the aroma permeates the dewy morning air, while it perks on the stove wafting through the open kitchen windows.
After dinner I love to have a pressed coffee for desert. A pressed, is using the coffee carafe that has a filter like a plunger. You put the coffee in the bottom of the carafe and pour boiling water over it filling the carafe to about two inches from the top. I let it stand for about three to five minutes then push the filter down. Pour into cup, add cream and sugar to taste then sip. Ooooh it’s so good. Almost as good as sex, even better some days.
I think today is a pressed coffee day with the looming rain clouds. I think I’ll cuddle up with a book and the dogs on the sofa with my elixir of life. Now that's a plan.
Sunday, April 08, 2007
Coffee Shop Talk
Its Easter and I will be going over shortly to go set the table for the dinner at my mother's. I am at present ramming as much caffeine down my system as my veins will allow. My mother's coffee of 6 beans to 1 gallon of water does leave a lot to be desired. The sweet thing is, if Hubby and I go over to visit she makes a stronger pot. I'm not sure the 12 beans and two perks more really qualify as stronger.
Then there is me. I scour the shelves looking for the cheapest fair trade and organic coffee with the boldest flavour and the biggest caffeine rush I can get. Hubby introduced me to pressed coffee. That was heaven. That first sip was bold and creamy and the perfect amount of sugar. I think I might be addicted.
So the job isn't that bad. The first five days were a little rough. I can't wait for the next set. The customers are fun. The only thing that will drive me insane for the next few months is the lottery machine.
Did you know there is an entire lingo to lotteries? Its like dork dialogue (computer speak) to the next level. The scratch one are straight forward but I make the customers pick their own because I pick losers. I have entire routine on it. The lottery machine that spits out the ticket is an entirely different matter. To that I have told some of the customers that I'm really new at this and to be gentle with me. The women usually just stare at me but the men laugh.
Some of the people that come in are very scary. They aren't so scary when they are laughing. So that's what I do. I make them laugh. I found that being forty as allowed for a little more respect from some of the customers. I also have the confidence now to tell them nicely to p**s off when they are being belligerent and rude. Then I'll crack a joke once the customer has settled down. Its only happened twice.
But the weird thing was, this jerk who nearly had in tears on my first day at another job came in on my first night at this one. I couldn't believe it when he tried to pull the same crap. I just looked at him and said, "I remember you. You did this to me at my last job on my first day. Six years later and your still like it." I just shook my head at him. His wife started to laugh and nod her head at me. So I started in on him. He left with an amused look. I'm sure he laughed outside the store.
I think it will be okay. I'm still torturing Hubby cause that's what a good wife does. I keep reminding myself its just a temporary thing until the truck is paid off. Then I'll be by the fish pond.
Then there is me. I scour the shelves looking for the cheapest fair trade and organic coffee with the boldest flavour and the biggest caffeine rush I can get. Hubby introduced me to pressed coffee. That was heaven. That first sip was bold and creamy and the perfect amount of sugar. I think I might be addicted.
So the job isn't that bad. The first five days were a little rough. I can't wait for the next set. The customers are fun. The only thing that will drive me insane for the next few months is the lottery machine.
Did you know there is an entire lingo to lotteries? Its like dork dialogue (computer speak) to the next level. The scratch one are straight forward but I make the customers pick their own because I pick losers. I have entire routine on it. The lottery machine that spits out the ticket is an entirely different matter. To that I have told some of the customers that I'm really new at this and to be gentle with me. The women usually just stare at me but the men laugh.
Some of the people that come in are very scary. They aren't so scary when they are laughing. So that's what I do. I make them laugh. I found that being forty as allowed for a little more respect from some of the customers. I also have the confidence now to tell them nicely to p**s off when they are being belligerent and rude. Then I'll crack a joke once the customer has settled down. Its only happened twice.
But the weird thing was, this jerk who nearly had in tears on my first day at another job came in on my first night at this one. I couldn't believe it when he tried to pull the same crap. I just looked at him and said, "I remember you. You did this to me at my last job on my first day. Six years later and your still like it." I just shook my head at him. His wife started to laugh and nod her head at me. So I started in on him. He left with an amused look. I'm sure he laughed outside the store.
I think it will be okay. I'm still torturing Hubby cause that's what a good wife does. I keep reminding myself its just a temporary thing until the truck is paid off. Then I'll be by the fish pond.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Hubby won using secret weapon.
He used the Budget against me. How low can one get?
I got a job.
Its a part time thing until the truck is paid off. If I get the hours I should have the truck paid off by September. So here's where I confess. I decided this morning that I wasn't going to take it, but I would see what they had to say so I could tell Hubby the truth that I went to the interview.
I told the manager that I was upfront, blunt and do not brook any political crap in the work place. I slam it down as soon as it hits. Then I basically said because of the dogs and that two are considered special needs, I have a twenty minute leeway of leaving them by themselves. (Yes Artist, I know I stretched the truth but cut me some slack I was trying to blow an interview.) I said that I would be in the store by six when my shift starts. I also explained my medical situation with my head and a brief synopsis of the family and that they come first. I didn't hide a thing. I'm not sure where exactly it happened in the interview but I start tomorrow night at six.
I went shopping.
I told Hubby I needed slacks and new shoes for the job. I got the cutest pair of heels (Only an 1 1/2 inches) with little tassels. Once I break them in they will be like slippers. Yes this all sounds very shallow but, I figured if Hubby gets his way on this issue then I sure as hell will get something out of it in return. Kind of one of those little digs to make my point. Its like the shoes. That was my pushing it to see how far Hubby will let me go before his guilt is overridden by the budget. That and announcing last night no sex for however long this stint is because I will be too tired. I'm sure that will drive my point home about not working. Am I so going to enjoy this slow torture of Hubby. Every waking moment.
I'm thinking the first paycheck, I'm getting my nails done. Mind you they really get in the way of typing and I am slow at it is. So that one I will have to think about.
I will be doing my utmost to drive the man insane the entire time I am working. I have little things in mind like leaving a really disgusting crusty dish and make him scrub it. That and the Kitty Litter box.
And I hope the man learns to enjoy meatloaf cause I'm going to be cooking it an awful lot just for him. I'll make sure its full of Green Peppers cause he hates those to and tons of "That Red Crap" as Hubby refers to the sauce.
I did agree that when we bought the truck that if need be, I would go to work and help pay for it. I will honour that agreement. I never said anything about not making him suffer while I do it though. Hubby really needs to learn to read the fine print of my statements.
I will be bucking to quit in about July. That will give me at least three months worth of material to use against Hubby.
Its a good thing that man adores me. I'd be really screwed then. Nothing to take advantage of.
And I wonder why our friends sympathize with him. Even Artist at times. But then I sympathize with her Hubby...at times...sort of...But not at much as she sympathizes with my Hubby.
I did explain once to Artist's Hubby that it was my duty as her best friend to drive him nuts. He didn't take me very seriously for some reason. He is very much ex-British Military, stiff upper lip type, with a very wicked dry sense of humour. The type if your too sensitive you could get hurt.
I used to work with him. Some days I would follow behind after one of his quick dry retorts and whisper to the co-worker standing there blinking at his backside, "He's kidding."
Heavy sigh...At least I can quit without reprisals from Hubby. I should really get that in writing shouldn't I. That and the no sex part should definitely be in writing. I think I'll go type it up and I'll point out the fine print to Hubby before he signs in his own blood.
I got a job.
Its a part time thing until the truck is paid off. If I get the hours I should have the truck paid off by September. So here's where I confess. I decided this morning that I wasn't going to take it, but I would see what they had to say so I could tell Hubby the truth that I went to the interview.
I told the manager that I was upfront, blunt and do not brook any political crap in the work place. I slam it down as soon as it hits. Then I basically said because of the dogs and that two are considered special needs, I have a twenty minute leeway of leaving them by themselves. (Yes Artist, I know I stretched the truth but cut me some slack I was trying to blow an interview.) I said that I would be in the store by six when my shift starts. I also explained my medical situation with my head and a brief synopsis of the family and that they come first. I didn't hide a thing. I'm not sure where exactly it happened in the interview but I start tomorrow night at six.
I went shopping.
I told Hubby I needed slacks and new shoes for the job. I got the cutest pair of heels (Only an 1 1/2 inches) with little tassels. Once I break them in they will be like slippers. Yes this all sounds very shallow but, I figured if Hubby gets his way on this issue then I sure as hell will get something out of it in return. Kind of one of those little digs to make my point. Its like the shoes. That was my pushing it to see how far Hubby will let me go before his guilt is overridden by the budget. That and announcing last night no sex for however long this stint is because I will be too tired. I'm sure that will drive my point home about not working. Am I so going to enjoy this slow torture of Hubby. Every waking moment.
I'm thinking the first paycheck, I'm getting my nails done. Mind you they really get in the way of typing and I am slow at it is. So that one I will have to think about.
I will be doing my utmost to drive the man insane the entire time I am working. I have little things in mind like leaving a really disgusting crusty dish and make him scrub it. That and the Kitty Litter box.
And I hope the man learns to enjoy meatloaf cause I'm going to be cooking it an awful lot just for him. I'll make sure its full of Green Peppers cause he hates those to and tons of "That Red Crap" as Hubby refers to the sauce.
I did agree that when we bought the truck that if need be, I would go to work and help pay for it. I will honour that agreement. I never said anything about not making him suffer while I do it though. Hubby really needs to learn to read the fine print of my statements.
I will be bucking to quit in about July. That will give me at least three months worth of material to use against Hubby.
Its a good thing that man adores me. I'd be really screwed then. Nothing to take advantage of.
And I wonder why our friends sympathize with him. Even Artist at times. But then I sympathize with her Hubby...at times...sort of...But not at much as she sympathizes with my Hubby.
I did explain once to Artist's Hubby that it was my duty as her best friend to drive him nuts. He didn't take me very seriously for some reason. He is very much ex-British Military, stiff upper lip type, with a very wicked dry sense of humour. The type if your too sensitive you could get hurt.
I used to work with him. Some days I would follow behind after one of his quick dry retorts and whisper to the co-worker standing there blinking at his backside, "He's kidding."
Heavy sigh...At least I can quit without reprisals from Hubby. I should really get that in writing shouldn't I. That and the no sex part should definitely be in writing. I think I'll go type it up and I'll point out the fine print to Hubby before he signs in his own blood.
Sunday, March 18, 2007
फील थे नीद तो रंत (Feel the Need to Rant)
Great!!! Now I can type in a foriegn language but I can not speak it. I understand the why's but really, can I just do something for once that does not entail me having to research the entire internet to find out how to do something. So I'm slightly frustrated. Actually frustrated isn't quite accurate.
You know when you spend three days trying to achieve one task and everytime you sit down there is something that takes you away again, or the phone rings or the cats wants up or the dog wants out or there is somebody at the door. The last three days has seemed like a total waste. Stuff got done not what I set out to do but other stuff. Like....um....er...there's...nope that didn't get cleaned...hang on I'm thinking. So you get the point.
There are two people in my life that have my permission to distrupt my day at any given point. That is my mother and Artist. The reason is, I can say to them, grab a coffee I'm in the middle of something and they will have their coffee as I get my chore done. And Hubby thinks, I sit all day and do nothing.
My mother once gave her job description to her best friend. I was old enough to remember and have quoted her since.
Position available, duties include,
cooking, laundry, grocery shopping, errands, all kinds of appointments, must deal with plumbers and other contractors, child-care and pet care. No holidays, no pay and little gratitude.
I think I know where Hubby hid the wine. I could really use a glass while having a nice hot bubble bath with the jets beating me to death and the dog whines on the outside of the door because he's separated from Mommy.
To Hell with just a glass. I'll drink it straight from the bottle.
You know when you spend three days trying to achieve one task and everytime you sit down there is something that takes you away again, or the phone rings or the cats wants up or the dog wants out or there is somebody at the door. The last three days has seemed like a total waste. Stuff got done not what I set out to do but other stuff. Like....um....er...there's...nope that didn't get cleaned...hang on I'm thinking. So you get the point.
There are two people in my life that have my permission to distrupt my day at any given point. That is my mother and Artist. The reason is, I can say to them, grab a coffee I'm in the middle of something and they will have their coffee as I get my chore done. And Hubby thinks, I sit all day and do nothing.
My mother once gave her job description to her best friend. I was old enough to remember and have quoted her since.
Position available, duties include,
cooking, laundry, grocery shopping, errands, all kinds of appointments, must deal with plumbers and other contractors, child-care and pet care. No holidays, no pay and little gratitude.
I think I know where Hubby hid the wine. I could really use a glass while having a nice hot bubble bath with the jets beating me to death and the dog whines on the outside of the door because he's separated from Mommy.
To Hell with just a glass. I'll drink it straight from the bottle.
Friday, March 09, 2007
Coffee Break.
Its warm and sunny out. Not that is a bad thing even though it means a backyard of mud with five dogs to run through it and drag it into the house. I wish spring was like a week from start to finish so I only have to deal with the dirt in a matter of days rather than weeks. With all the extra light I am finding more housework to do. Its amazing what appears when the sun shares its heat. I have dust bunnies tanning in the parlor. I think I'll take a quick coffee break and warm up the fingers for writing.
So I found out last night that coffee and laptops do not mix. This morning in the efforts to save Hubby from tearing apart my puter I (after making sure it was ok and did not hiss and spit at me) decided to down load a spyware program that I had accidentally removed. I down loaded what I thought would be a help only to have my entire system start to crash in slow motion. It was very weird. Almost like a game you can't wait to lose cause you know the humiliation of defeat can begin and you can move on.
So the result was, Hubby came down the stairs as I was fighting away. He might have garnered a hint that something was wrong by the swearing at the screen. I swear I saw a tongue appear on the screen and it gave me a raspberry. So Hubby spend the first twenty minutes of his morning fixing my screw up. Its a good thing the man loves me. I know he does. I told him so.
He's happily married too. Or at least he will be when he believes me.
So now my puter is feeling much lighter and happier, until that was I decided to change my other blog. Why is it, we can not just give a command and have it happen or if it doesn't happen explain in simple human terms why you can't. I have spent the last two hours trying to remove a feature that is necessary to the html. I eventually got smart and decided to read up on the feature I was trying to kill. Found out a) I can't and b) if somebody as an alert for updates then they wouldn't get it if I removed it.
Not to be defeated I fixed it. I changed the whole thing and solved another problem I was having. I'm hoping it means I've won against technology, even if it means for today.
I must say it has been interesting lately with everything. Mom has been very supportive in my endeavor in writing. Her suggesting various titles and names has left astounded at the very least. I envisioned myself in the future being interviewed and the question of how I began writing Porn comes up. I saw myself answering, something along the line of "My mother was the biggest influence. She suggested a title for a book."
Actually my Mom despite the content is really pleased. It took a bit for her to understand the type of sensuality. My father was really easy. We were in Chapters just before Christmas and there was a table set up for a book signing. I scoffed at the latest Star Wars book to ride that coat tail. I said to Dad that someday I would be signing books. Albeit outside a sex shop but I would be signing books. Dad laughed and said "well if somebody's willing to buy it." I said, " I'm willing to write it. " But he got it.
Mom on the other hand it took the cover art to explain what I write. That was the first of "I'm so proud" oozing in sarcasm. I tried before telling her. Like when she said we could collaborate. She will write the story and I'll fill in the rest. She asked me how many pages, I said two. She asked me how long the book would be I said, 360 pages. She laughed but I don't think she took me seriously. (Not that my stories are 358 pages of sex. My brain does not have the imagination capacity I would need for such a challenge.)
Speaking of which, I had better put another pot of coffee on. I expect Mom to drop by with more of her helpful outlines. God help me, I won't make it without the thrumming of caffeine in my veins. But I think I'll keep my computer far away from it.
So I found out last night that coffee and laptops do not mix. This morning in the efforts to save Hubby from tearing apart my puter I (after making sure it was ok and did not hiss and spit at me) decided to down load a spyware program that I had accidentally removed. I down loaded what I thought would be a help only to have my entire system start to crash in slow motion. It was very weird. Almost like a game you can't wait to lose cause you know the humiliation of defeat can begin and you can move on.
So the result was, Hubby came down the stairs as I was fighting away. He might have garnered a hint that something was wrong by the swearing at the screen. I swear I saw a tongue appear on the screen and it gave me a raspberry. So Hubby spend the first twenty minutes of his morning fixing my screw up. Its a good thing the man loves me. I know he does. I told him so.
He's happily married too. Or at least he will be when he believes me.
So now my puter is feeling much lighter and happier, until that was I decided to change my other blog. Why is it, we can not just give a command and have it happen or if it doesn't happen explain in simple human terms why you can't. I have spent the last two hours trying to remove a feature that is necessary to the html. I eventually got smart and decided to read up on the feature I was trying to kill. Found out a) I can't and b) if somebody as an alert for updates then they wouldn't get it if I removed it.
Not to be defeated I fixed it. I changed the whole thing and solved another problem I was having. I'm hoping it means I've won against technology, even if it means for today.
I must say it has been interesting lately with everything. Mom has been very supportive in my endeavor in writing. Her suggesting various titles and names has left astounded at the very least. I envisioned myself in the future being interviewed and the question of how I began writing Porn comes up. I saw myself answering, something along the line of "My mother was the biggest influence. She suggested a title for a book."
Actually my Mom despite the content is really pleased. It took a bit for her to understand the type of sensuality. My father was really easy. We were in Chapters just before Christmas and there was a table set up for a book signing. I scoffed at the latest Star Wars book to ride that coat tail. I said to Dad that someday I would be signing books. Albeit outside a sex shop but I would be signing books. Dad laughed and said "well if somebody's willing to buy it." I said, " I'm willing to write it. " But he got it.
Mom on the other hand it took the cover art to explain what I write. That was the first of "I'm so proud" oozing in sarcasm. I tried before telling her. Like when she said we could collaborate. She will write the story and I'll fill in the rest. She asked me how many pages, I said two. She asked me how long the book would be I said, 360 pages. She laughed but I don't think she took me seriously. (Not that my stories are 358 pages of sex. My brain does not have the imagination capacity I would need for such a challenge.)
Speaking of which, I had better put another pot of coffee on. I expect Mom to drop by with more of her helpful outlines. God help me, I won't make it without the thrumming of caffeine in my veins. But I think I'll keep my computer far away from it.
Friday, February 23, 2007
Sheet Tug of War
Hubby is so getting meatloaf for supper tonight. I love the man dearly, I really do. I am beginning to think its the cross I must bear in this life. I spent the night fighting him for a cover, I would have been happy with one sheet. But no, I must lie next to the window with a soft chilling you to the bone type draft gently wafting over me so the freezing is slow. He claims its the dogs. Yeah, okay. Two Chihuahua's who weigh maybe combined a total of 14lbs, are holding down the covers and pinning them there. I finally manage to get the duvet over my shoulders and drift into a wonderful warm sleep when his alarm goes of for the first time. It must go off at least four times before he gets up. This morning I got up on the third alarm and it startled Hubby causing him to stab me with his Ninja Toe Weapons. At this point I threw off the edge of the duvet and got up. I know when a battle is lost. But the war is yet to be won.
He had the nerve to be some what chipper this morning. That really ticked me off. He is never chipper. Ask Artist. She has seen him when one of his black moods hit. I love it when that happens. I will find any excuse to invade his cave with Artist and blather on about something I want to change, just to watch his expressions. Its hilarious. He will roll his eyes or clamp his jaw. Hubby is always pleasant when Artist is around. He would never be rude. And once in a while it will actually put him in a better mood. So its not just to torture him, although that is right up there at number one.
It goes both ways. Hubby has his ways of revenge. Like coming into the kitchen and suggesting I do something a certain way in cooking. He used to do this constantly until one day he was working on a computer trying to fix it. I went downstairs and sat on a step and asked what he was doing. He explained something was wrong internally. So I started to suggest the dumbest things I could think of to fix the computer. Finally he got a little miffed with me. Then I pointed it out that I knew as much about computers as he knew of cooking. It stopped his Mr. Fix It when it came to cooking. Now he does it just to get kicked out of the kitchen if I get too chatty.
Hubby has this panther lamp. This thing is hideous. I have been demising it death especially if Hubby ticks me off. This thing would be more happy with velvet paintings and a lava lamp. If your into that kind of thing make me an offer. Its entirely black so the dust on it has given it a lovely accenting in the ridges. Yes I hate that thing, but Hubby loves it. So its in the dungeon, Hubby's domain. I don't take Artist there, I couldn't live with the guilt of terrorizing her with the Hell in my basement.
Hubby wants a shed for his woodworking. I think that's a good idea. It will save his life a lot of the time. My condition was that all the stuff in the house has to be done first and that the shed be 100% complete. It is in my Hubby's DNA to leave the last remaining six inches done. But that is for another rant another day. I did not think my request was unreasonable. We came to an agreement that we would prep the yard for it this year and attack our bills with zest to payout a loan freeing up money. (This is the plan. We will talk in a year.)
Now Hubby is miffed because I am refusing to get a job. My reasons are thus; I can't guarantee that I can work full hours because of my health. He will not help me with the house cleaning as the past has proven. I really do not want to go back to the other diet we were on and if I'm working, we are back on crap. And the list continues. If I commiserate with Artist long enough, we could come up a whole slew more.
oh well, I'll give him a back rub and stuff an organic meatloaf down his throat. That will make everything much better. Well I'll feel better anyway.
He had the nerve to be some what chipper this morning. That really ticked me off. He is never chipper. Ask Artist. She has seen him when one of his black moods hit. I love it when that happens. I will find any excuse to invade his cave with Artist and blather on about something I want to change, just to watch his expressions. Its hilarious. He will roll his eyes or clamp his jaw. Hubby is always pleasant when Artist is around. He would never be rude. And once in a while it will actually put him in a better mood. So its not just to torture him, although that is right up there at number one.
It goes both ways. Hubby has his ways of revenge. Like coming into the kitchen and suggesting I do something a certain way in cooking. He used to do this constantly until one day he was working on a computer trying to fix it. I went downstairs and sat on a step and asked what he was doing. He explained something was wrong internally. So I started to suggest the dumbest things I could think of to fix the computer. Finally he got a little miffed with me. Then I pointed it out that I knew as much about computers as he knew of cooking. It stopped his Mr. Fix It when it came to cooking. Now he does it just to get kicked out of the kitchen if I get too chatty.
Hubby has this panther lamp. This thing is hideous. I have been demising it death especially if Hubby ticks me off. This thing would be more happy with velvet paintings and a lava lamp. If your into that kind of thing make me an offer. Its entirely black so the dust on it has given it a lovely accenting in the ridges. Yes I hate that thing, but Hubby loves it. So its in the dungeon, Hubby's domain. I don't take Artist there, I couldn't live with the guilt of terrorizing her with the Hell in my basement.
Hubby wants a shed for his woodworking. I think that's a good idea. It will save his life a lot of the time. My condition was that all the stuff in the house has to be done first and that the shed be 100% complete. It is in my Hubby's DNA to leave the last remaining six inches done. But that is for another rant another day. I did not think my request was unreasonable. We came to an agreement that we would prep the yard for it this year and attack our bills with zest to payout a loan freeing up money. (This is the plan. We will talk in a year.)
Now Hubby is miffed because I am refusing to get a job. My reasons are thus; I can't guarantee that I can work full hours because of my health. He will not help me with the house cleaning as the past has proven. I really do not want to go back to the other diet we were on and if I'm working, we are back on crap. And the list continues. If I commiserate with Artist long enough, we could come up a whole slew more.
oh well, I'll give him a back rub and stuff an organic meatloaf down his throat. That will make everything much better. Well I'll feel better anyway.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
A New Twist in Life
I was asked by a person I know via the internet, who saw the "Check It Out" and did, why was I promoting someone's book. I explained that it my book I was promoting. My mother was asked by a very sweet lady if it was spiritual. I think to my mother's disappointment it's not. But I did realize by the title it could be percieved as such.
I started that story twenty years ago shortly after my daughter was born. She just turned twenty and my story will soon be published. Life's little ironies at work. It was a ten page outline that grew larger everytime I looked at it. If I compiled all the time I spent on it, it would equal out to two years. I would pick it up for a month or so, then put it down for a few years. I still wrote but it was short stories for my enjoyment. I had let people read them over the years. Rhode Island among the first. But there was never the time to devote like I wanted to.
I decided to take a chance and put my writing out there. See where this journey leads me. I have no expectations of this ride. I don't know what to expect. Its kind of like stepping into a room and the light only shines where you stand. Everything is pitch black around you and you only know the spot you stand in. Its going to be interesting to say the least. At the most it will provide some very entertaining discussions for the family.
I started that story twenty years ago shortly after my daughter was born. She just turned twenty and my story will soon be published. Life's little ironies at work. It was a ten page outline that grew larger everytime I looked at it. If I compiled all the time I spent on it, it would equal out to two years. I would pick it up for a month or so, then put it down for a few years. I still wrote but it was short stories for my enjoyment. I had let people read them over the years. Rhode Island among the first. But there was never the time to devote like I wanted to.
I decided to take a chance and put my writing out there. See where this journey leads me. I have no expectations of this ride. I don't know what to expect. Its kind of like stepping into a room and the light only shines where you stand. Everything is pitch black around you and you only know the spot you stand in. Its going to be interesting to say the least. At the most it will provide some very entertaining discussions for the family.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Update!!!
We Did It!!!! Our play brought in the highest number of ticket sales for a non-musical. No Sex Please We're British was a smashing success in a bible belt. Go Figure. I do admit the ass backwards write up and the name might have something to do with the high sales. We had last minute changes, one of our actresses ended up in the hospital and another went on in her stead. And the audience kept laughing. I am so glad it's over with. All that's left is the post-mortem and I can totally relax. And I found something way better than that Robaxa stuff. Orgainc Wine!
Thursday, February 08, 2007
Opening Night.
Its almost over. Tonight is the opening night to our play. It has been riddled with problems from the get go. We lost two actresses for the same part. Luckily my daughter stepped up to the plate and so did her friend. The friend has three lines. Two of them are monosyllabic. Do you think she could get that last lines of seven words? Last dress rehearsal I'm on my knees begging her to face the audience and say her line with precision and clarity. The only way to survive this entire run is drunk out of my mind.
We are not only pushing the boundaries of this town's puritanical sense of morality but we need at least another two weeks before this play is ready. Our actors are very skilled but because of the antics in the play elements are continually being added. We were changing things at the last dress rehearsal because of set changes we made last minute. I keep reminding myself of a pin the past president wore. "It's only community theatre until it offends someone. Then it becomes art."
The nice thing is the local newspaper did a huge write up on our production. Even included quotes from myself and the other director. The sad thing is, he got the plot completely ass backwards. The show in the paper sounds a lot more like a soft porn than our risque` little venue. Maybe that explains the high numbers for opening night.
Oh well, I hear a bottle of wine calling and its only 10:30 am.
We are not only pushing the boundaries of this town's puritanical sense of morality but we need at least another two weeks before this play is ready. Our actors are very skilled but because of the antics in the play elements are continually being added. We were changing things at the last dress rehearsal because of set changes we made last minute. I keep reminding myself of a pin the past president wore. "It's only community theatre until it offends someone. Then it becomes art."
The nice thing is the local newspaper did a huge write up on our production. Even included quotes from myself and the other director. The sad thing is, he got the plot completely ass backwards. The show in the paper sounds a lot more like a soft porn than our risque` little venue. Maybe that explains the high numbers for opening night.
Oh well, I hear a bottle of wine calling and its only 10:30 am.
Thursday, February 01, 2007
Bliss
My house is in a pickle, The phone rung none stop and I have had a phone call from my aunt. Everything I set out to do today got pushed aside so I gave up. I have had 10....count em...10 minutes to myself today where I completely alone without anybody on the phone or over. When I finally breathed a sigh of relief that I had time to myself, Hubby came home.
I give up. Since the moment I got up its been a total wash of a day. It's been a very wierd day. So I have decided to lock myself in the bathroom with a nice hot bubble bath and candles. I'll relax to Micheal Bubble` and just relax.
That will be until Hubby comes down over a bill he's angry about.
So much for bliss.
I give up. Since the moment I got up its been a total wash of a day. It's been a very wierd day. So I have decided to lock myself in the bathroom with a nice hot bubble bath and candles. I'll relax to Micheal Bubble` and just relax.
That will be until Hubby comes down over a bill he's angry about.
So much for bliss.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Purple Floor
I finally get a chance to sit with my thoughts for a bit. It feels like our house is Grand Central Station with everybody that has been coming and going. The phone has rung none stop. We had one quiet night but unfortunately I had a headache. That was New Years Eve.
Hopefully things will settle into a dull rut like most January's. Some how I don't get that feeling. This year I only made two Resolutions that shouldn't be hard to keep. One, I plan to recycle more and the other I plan to try and be more social. Now I can hear Artist laughing at me as I write. I love my nest, and as Artist puts it, I am a nester. But then so is Artist. She inately understands my nest. Mind you she is probably thankful its no longer pink and florals.
But then she didn't bat an eye at my brillant purple floor. The funnier thing is, it was another friend who helped conoct the colour. Here's the story. We ripped up the carpet from our living room and had to do something with the floor. We went to unmentionable store, where our friend worked and she was the one to help us. Hubby asked if we could colour the floor paint to a certain shade of dark burgandy. Well what came out was flourescent bubblegum pink. I asked if we could add a lot of black. So then it came out purple. The entire time we were painting we chuckled at the anticipated reaction of my Mom and Dad. I managed to pull the look off eventually after a lot of trial and error. My Mother's reaction was "Oh, its purple." My Father's was "Good God." At the time my mother was being tested for liver cancer. It was a very scary time and the fates were kind. I looked at my Dad and said "There are more important things to worry about than a purple floor." It did give my mother a topic for conversation for awhile and hopefully a diversion that made her smile.
My mother did not have cancer. During the time my mother was being tested we had the purple floor. Shorty after she was cleared, we found a great deal on lamanent flooring and covered up the purple floor. I now think of the purple floor as a symbol. Funny the way life is.
I want to wish (albeit late) Artist, Scribble and Rhode Island a Happy New Year. May you be blessed with purple floors. Sending you lots of light.
Hopefully things will settle into a dull rut like most January's. Some how I don't get that feeling. This year I only made two Resolutions that shouldn't be hard to keep. One, I plan to recycle more and the other I plan to try and be more social. Now I can hear Artist laughing at me as I write. I love my nest, and as Artist puts it, I am a nester. But then so is Artist. She inately understands my nest. Mind you she is probably thankful its no longer pink and florals.
But then she didn't bat an eye at my brillant purple floor. The funnier thing is, it was another friend who helped conoct the colour. Here's the story. We ripped up the carpet from our living room and had to do something with the floor. We went to unmentionable store, where our friend worked and she was the one to help us. Hubby asked if we could colour the floor paint to a certain shade of dark burgandy. Well what came out was flourescent bubblegum pink. I asked if we could add a lot of black. So then it came out purple. The entire time we were painting we chuckled at the anticipated reaction of my Mom and Dad. I managed to pull the look off eventually after a lot of trial and error. My Mother's reaction was "Oh, its purple." My Father's was "Good God." At the time my mother was being tested for liver cancer. It was a very scary time and the fates were kind. I looked at my Dad and said "There are more important things to worry about than a purple floor." It did give my mother a topic for conversation for awhile and hopefully a diversion that made her smile.
My mother did not have cancer. During the time my mother was being tested we had the purple floor. Shorty after she was cleared, we found a great deal on lamanent flooring and covered up the purple floor. I now think of the purple floor as a symbol. Funny the way life is.
I want to wish (albeit late) Artist, Scribble and Rhode Island a Happy New Year. May you be blessed with purple floors. Sending you lots of light.
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