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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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?

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.

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.

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.

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.