So True

Tell me about it. I paid $1.459 tonight for gas. My little Corolla cost me $56 to fill (and it wasn't completely empty) which is fucking ridiculous. So now...

Memorable TV Character Moments

Harvey Korman died today. I remember him well from The Carol Burnett Show. They were friggin hilarious. My favorite tv moment on this show was when Carol dressed up as Scarlett O'Hara in her green velvet dress made from the curtains...with the curtain rod left in. I ROARED!!! And Harvy was Rhett Butler...funny as shit...and now he's gone. Rest in Peace, Harvey...

Other memorable tv moments for me are...

• when Radar gave Col. Potter a horse for his birthday on M*A*S*H...Sherm teared up in that scene...
• when Pamela Ewing woke up, and it was all a dream. I recall not being particularly happy abotu that, as did most fans...
• when Grace meets the only woman Will ever slept with on Will and Grace...the entire episode was killer funny...everyone had great lines in that episode.
• the boyfriend cleansing ritual episode on Friends...
• when Mark Greene dies on ER...sad as hell...
• when Les Nessman gets attacked by live turkeys...he thought they could fly...WKRP came out on DVD and when I watched the first season I laughed all over again

and so on...

Nighttime Faux Pas...

so I went downtown tonight about 10:30pm to run to the bank machine...payment coming out tonight, needed to deposit some cash to cover it. I was in my pyjamas...which normally isn't a real big thing because I usually have a coat on because of the cold. Until today when I didn't wear a jacket and realized as I'm strolling about, I have my souvenir t-shirt from Alaska..."I Got Laid in Chicken, Alaska" written in BIG BLACK BOLD letters for all to read...I bought it as a joke, and in certain company, will wear it. Mostly it is a nice soft t-shirt that I wear around the house, and usually to bed. So there I am, strolling about downtown, trying to cover my chest without looking like I was covering my chest...

It was a beautiful sunset downtown though...

The Balcony Boys

Henry is getting rather large...and less confident on the balcony railing. Stormy on the other hand, is his usual arrogant self.

Sick Blogger

I have been ill. Nothing serious...just annoying as shit. It started with a headache and sore glands and throat a week ago Sunday past. By Wednesday it had moved into my chest, where it has camped out ever since. I've been coughing my head off, particularly at night. Dry cough...hack, cough, bark, HACK COUGH BARK! It doesn't help that ALL moisture has been SUCKED out of the air in the north, either. I tried cough syrup, Benylin...it crapped out. What I need is the good stuff - codeine. I should have gotten some today...dammit.

I didn't go to the office much last week. 30 minutes on Monday, and two home visits that night. I was in on Wednesday afternoon and that was it for the week. I did work at home Wednesday night and all day Thursday and Friday. I didn't want to subject my co-workers to my hacking cough, not to mention the germs. I'm sure they appreciated it.

I'm tired of being sick. Boo.

Henry's Grand Adventure

So the weather has been warmer lately and I let the kitties out onto the balcony, leaving the door open so they can come and go, sun themselves, and get some fresh air, a change of scenery. I was sitting nearby on the phone with my friend M. from back east, and all of a sudden I heard the scrabble of nails on wood...I saw Stormy, so I knew Henry was the one who had likely fallen off. I dropped the phone and ran out, and saw Henry on the ground. I only live on the second floor, thankfully, but I think it scared the shit out of just the same. I'm sure he thought to himself "I'm screwed now"...

So I hung up quickly with my friend and took off in my sneakers and nightgown...down the stairs, out to the street and around the back of the building. I didn't see him at first, and feared he had run into the woods, where I would then have to chase him in my sneakers and nightgown. I saw him a moment later, running for someone's balcony. I dodged up on the balcony and he came over to me, looking somewhat shellshocked...poor little guy...I carried him back upstairs and shut the door, after taking Stormy back in from the balcony as well. Balcony privileges have been revoked...

What an adventure for him. I wonder if he and Stormy share their stories...

Take THAT

My dad sent me this one this morning...he is a Newfie.

A Newfie, a little man, walks into a bar in Toronto,when this huge burly American guy walks in. As he passes the little Newfie, he hits him on the neck knocking him to the floor. The big burly Yank says, "that was a karate chop from Korea."

The little Newfie gets back on his barstool and resumes drinking his beer. The burly American then goes to the bathroom and as he walks by the Newfie, he hits him on the other side of the neck, knocking him to the floor."That was a judo chop from Japan", he says.

The little Newfie decides he has had enough and leaves. A half hour later he comes back and sees the burly American sitting at the bar. He walks up behind him and knocks him on the head knocking him out. The Newfie says to the bartender, "when he wakes up, tell him that was a hockey stick from Canadian Tire".

Stress and Relaxation

I think I have perfected the art of relaxation. I can totally chill out these days. I think I even approach being comatose...I used to get terrible stressed out by finding myself in a long line-up, wondering how long it was going to take to get through my business and off doing something else. Now I look at that time spent in the waiting line a nice little relaxing break. After all, there isn't much I can do about the line. If it is the only checkout/line open, there isn't much point in whining about it. Why do you think they provide all of that great reading material for us, along with candy, drinks, and other handy gadgets right there at the checkout. How else would I know that Britney Spears has shaved her head, lost her children/husband/mind/career/sobriety/underwear/bodyguard...

Knitting has given me great patience. I knit all the time, at home, in seminars, at work during lunch or a teleconference. I knit on the bus/train/boat/plane/car and at the airport, staff meetings, at a friend's house, while watching movies, you name it. Then I give away all the mittens I've made. I'm currently experimenting with some felting wool. I'll be sure to post before and after photos.

When I need down time...I get down with my downtime. I have no problem taking time off either. As much as I enjoy my job, I also enjoy my time off with friends and family. I'll be taking about 6 weeks of time this summer, and can't wait!

My job is significantly less stressful than previous positions elsewhere, however it isn't without it's own pressures. I am coping easily now, but can also see potential for high stress at times when it's busy. I enjoy every weekend off, and will often choose to absolutely nothing, turning down invites, having socialized enough throughout the week. And not feel guilty about it.

I remember a time a few years ago when that was not the case. I'm glad to be where I am now, than where I was. I can't wait to get my hammock hung out on my balcony for some snoozing...I would love to have this hammock in that location..

Now if I can just get one for Henry...at least now he spends time on the balcony, fully entertained.

Kitty Stress

Honestly, what in the HELL was I thinking to get a kitten. Sure they're cute. That's where it ends. They are also EVIL. Henry spends his day thinking of new ways to piss me off. Turns out he is very good at it. little mofo...

So here is the latest incident report:

• he thoroughly enjoys jumping up at posters, and scratching at the wall below them...I have no idea what this is about...particularly when he does it at 4am...
• we have longer days now, so he is up EARLY and in order to get my attention, LOVES to walk over everything on my nightstand, including the telephone and answering machine, causing them to go off - so at 5am I hear "please leave a message after the beep" or a nasty ass dial tone. If the tissue box is turned right side up, there is some digging going on until he destroys the tissues in the box
• playing the blinds like a piano is still popular...only the ones in the room I happen to be in count. And when it doesn't get my attention, he steps it up and tries to climb them...
• he ran off with all three of my beading dishes...they are just empty applesauce cups with tiny beads in them for a project...the beads are ALL OVER THE FUCKING CARPET and the beading cups were jammed under the couch. I will not be picking them up...that's what vacuums are for...cleaning up after idiot cats
• I can't have a plant or clipping from a plant anywhere in the apartment, except inside the cupboard. He has chewed every single plant down to the nub, often within minutes of me bringing it home.
• He won't stay off the counter top. It doesn't seem to matter HOW many times I yell and scream at him, spray him with water, flick water at him, shove him off the end, you name it. He will come right back up there.
• He loves to ROOT. Particularly when I am sleeping. He will root at the wires behind the dresser where my TV and VCR are, and especially loves to root at the underside of my bed. It used to be open and he climbed up in there, (he had ripped the fabric off the underside of the boxspring) but now I have a duvet cover covering my boxspring and he can't get at it. It doesn't stop him from trying...again, usually at 1am, or 5 am.
• He is a puker. He looks for a clean piece of carpet on which to hurl the insides of his stomach, just for my enjoyment.
• Doors are meant to be scratched at, not closed. Particularly at 4am...I closed the spare room door to keep out some light and limit the places he can root around in while I TRY to sleep. So instead he scratches at the door, endlessly...
• He keeps knocking down the little jars of kitty treats. I have no idea why. He turns his nose up at all of them and won't eat them when I give them to him. Stormy does not suffer from this problem. He will eat all of Henry's treats. Henry just looks at them and flops on the floor.
• He loves to chew plastic. Particularly the plastic on my heating pad. There are teeth marks on it all over. He doesn't even care if I am currently using it. He will lay down next to me and start munching. Pity he wouldn't get a little jolt one of these times...
• I cannot leave a drink standing ANYWHERE. He will seek it out like a missile, and drive his head down into the glass, knocking it over and spilling the drink on whatever is near, usually my computer or some paperwork.

Okay. I'm calmed again for now. I'm sure the neighbors think I'm killing someone here by the sound of the roars coming out of me sometimes. I hope they know I'm not yelling at a child, but an insolent kitten. I know he doesn't understand what I am saying...but I can guarantee you he knows that the tone is not warm and fuzzy.

Password Hell

We've all been there. Many of us visit there frequently. I have so many passwords I want to scream...I even have a book for most of them. I have several at work, and they all expire, on different days so it is a constant struggle to keep up with them. I have a few key phrases/combinations with slight variations that I use for more than one login, but sometimes I use a service so rarely that when it comes time to sign in, I haven't the faintest idea.

We have passwords to login to our computer network at work, then to login to our email, to our child protection server, then the child protection application. We report our time and overtime through another online program, and there is a password for that. This is the one I forget frequently...when you forget it they don't email you the current password, they get you to change it again...sigh...

At home I have passwords for all of my email programs, blogger, facebook, banking with 2 banks, ebay, paypal, my sister's ebay, all the forums I visit (like lonely planet thorntree, hip forums, cbc news, etc) and passwords for other online buying accounts like Westjet, Amazon, Chapters Indigo, Staples, Future Shop, Dell, etc...the list goes on. Then there are passwords to get into the alumni stuff at university, passwords to sign into chat programs like msn and yahoo messenger.

Then there are access codes for computer, and for phonecalls regarding my student loans. I call them maybe twice a year and they expect me to remember them...I spend more time trying to forget they exist...

Password hell, I tell ya...

Computer Crash...

I can't respond to any emails today, Something has crashed on my computer...

Henry's Outdoor Adventure

Henry was out on the balcony today while I barbecued some chicken skewers. He loves hanging out in my kayak...as long as it doesn't tilt like a teeter totter and send him flying off the balcony like a rocket...

Footloose and Fancy Free

For our friend C.'s birthday, K. bought her a ticket to Footloose, and we all went yesterday. One of the local high schools put on the theatre production of the movie, while they were out of tune most of the show, the acting was terrific and the energy was high. Good for some laughs, and one particularly energetic fellow may very well end up going far, as he was quite talented - the youth who played the character Willard.

Nice way to spend a Saturday afternoon.

Grammar and Spelling Takes A Hit

Is it just me, or is anyone else bothered by the decline of good grammar, proper spelling and word usage. I mean, besides being annoying, I can't believe that educated people seem to be unable to use the proper words in their writing. I'm not talking about difficult technical words, but everyday language where people commonly misuse words, again and again. Here are a few examples, used by some of my friends and family, all of who have a minimum of high school diploma, and most have at least one college degree, if not more. One of the worst I have seen lately is a cousin of mine who is also a teacher. Now that's scary. A typographical error is one thing, where you appear to be typing with your toes instead of your fingers, however when the entirely wrong word is used, well, that is something else.

1. "I seem to have loosed my dictionary". Come on...the word is LOST! The past tense of to LOSE. There is one "O" not two. I see this one misused ALL THE TIME.


2. "I like putting epson salts in my bath". Um, Epson makes printers. What you put in your bath are EPSOM SALTS. (used by my teacher cousin)


3. "There's not to much going on here". TOO. The word is TOO. To implies you are going somewhere.


4. "Your coming with me". Sigh...the word you are looking for is YOU ARE = YOU'RE. Your implies possession, and does not refer to you doing anything at all.


5. "Well, supposebly it's going to rain tomorrow". There is no "B" in supposedly. I kid you not. Apparently you can use this form in the United States. I don't believe it. In any case, we are in Canada.


6. "I am smarter then you". The word required here is THAN. Then refers to what happened next.


7. "Live life to it's fullest". Now this one is very common and one of the trickier ones. There is only an apostrophe if you are contracting these two words - IT IS. If it doesn't make sense to use the two words, then do NOT use the apostrophe version. Sounds easy enough, but you would be surprised how many people will argue this one.


8. "This doesn't really effect me". Sigh again. The word you are searching for is AFFECT. Effect is a noun. Affect is the verb. Nouns do not describe action. The tricky part is that affect can also be a noun, but not in that sentence. You would use it like this "She has a flat affect" meaning she shows no emotion.


9. "I drank so much last night I past out". Again, no. You passed out. Notice the "D" and past tense. I know it gets complicated, but come on. Try at least.


10. "I wanted to right you a letter last night but I couldn't find a pen". Okay, this is just stupid. The word is WRITE. Not WRIGHT, RIGHT, or RITE. Get with the program.


11. "I wrote my affidavid last night for court". You know what. David isn't part of the document. The correct word is affidavit.


12. "The drugstore did not have that pacific kind of hair jell". The words you are reaching for are SPECIFIC and GEL.

I could go on and on like this website, but I think you get the idea.

Henry the Horrible

I should have known better. I should have seen it coming. Actually, I did see it coming, but chose to hope for better. I was wrong. Henry is horrible. I spent a couple of hours yesterday repotting and separating my plants at the office, where they have been since I moved here last November, not wanting to bring them home in the frosty temperatures. The end result was quite nice, and I was able to give my friend K. some plants, and have a few to take home.

Then Henry had a look at them. First when I brought them home, he tempted himself to get close to one of them best ones, a strong stalk of leafy splendor. I ROARED at him and he got the point. Or so I thought. He backed off, taking the cue, and left them alone yesterday. Then today came.

I was cuddling with Stormy, who is as needy as ever, and heard Henry doing something. You know, when the sound doesn't make sense you just KNOW they are into something. So I get up to look and he has ripped my shamrock out of it's home by the tender roots and was calmly nibbling on it sprawled on the kitchen floor, leaves nowhere in sight (down in his gullet by that point). So I ROARED at him again, and put what was left back in the pot and placed the pot up high.

Hours later I stepped out of the apartment to bring the garbage down. I may have been gone about 3 minutes at the most. When I got back the horrors met me. My strong stalk of leafy splendor was now in the middle of the kitchen floor, and there was wet mud all over the carpet, end table, and MY WHITE COUCH. Henry was skulking nearby. There were ROARS. Oh yes, there were ROARS. Henry got a time-out in the bathroom while I cleaned the mess up, and now I have shoved him out on the balcony. If only he would run away to the neighbors and never come back.

Henry is horrible. Don't let the cute fuzzy looks fool you. There is evil deep inside.

Fruits Of My Labours

Well, I had a fairly productive day today. I managed to sew up 4 skirts, including one three tiered ruffle skirt. None were any great fashion miracle, but I only spent about $70 for all four. One of the skirts is very similar in both fabric and style to one I tried on at a small Halifax shop a few weeks ago, and the pricetag on that one was $110. I thought I had taken it off the sale rack, and when they were tallying up the bill, luckily I realized the price of it! Mine cost me under $30 for a beautiful eyelet linen blend.

Of course, no task is complete without Henry's help...he was fascinated by the sewing machine's movement and while he tempted fate often, he managed not to sew his paw to a skirt...he also wanted to shove his face into my sewing kit, under the fabric, through the tissue paper patterns, and as show here, through my sewing machine arm.

Of course the highlight of the day was when he jumped up on the ironing board and knocked the hot iron off onto the carpet. Nice move. Then I had a ragged melted patch of carpet in front of the hall closet, and carpet melted onto my iron. The carpet is not quite noticeable unless you know it's there, but you can certainly feel it with bare feet, much like burnt ends of nylon rope. fuck. I was able to get most of the carpet off my iron, by heating it up again and rubbing it over brown paper. I'm sure the neighbors thought I was killing someone by the roars that came out of me. I was quite ready to punt Henry off the balcony at that point. He got a time out in the bathroom until I felt that urge pass. Then he tiptoed around me for several hours, cowering whenever I spoke, so then I felt bad and had to snuggle him. He was pretty good for the rest of the sewing, with just a few gentle reminders.

Now the big decision is which one to wear tomorrow. Nice to have choices.

Boys On New Bedding

I went out for some retail therapy last night...started out for just potting soil and a few new pots...came home with new bedding for my bed...go figure. These are the boys on the new comforter...Henry looks like a tool in the first photo as I caught him just about to yawn...hahahaha

Weekend Musings

What a neglectful blogger I've become...and what a crackbook Facebook addict I have evolved into. There isn't a day that goes by that I am not checking out Facebook. And when I'm home and can access it (no access at work) there is hardly 10 minutes that go by where I am not refreshing the page to see if anything new happened. I know. Pathetic.

The power was off this afternoon for an hour or so, kind of an involuntary Earth Hour. The power goes off quite often up here, often once a week. Real pain in the ASS I might add. Not only do I have to reset all the clocks in the house (and microwave, stove, VCR etc) I have to record the outgoing message on my answering machine each time. Sometimes I forget and people call only to hear "We are unable to take your call. Please leave a message after the tone" by some unknown voice. It could be remedied by inserting a new 9v battery into the darn thing, but that would involve me remembering that I need one when I'm actually at the store.

I am "attending" Earth Hour tonight. For those who don't know what it is, you are simply asked to turn off the lights in your home for one hour, from 8-9pm, local time, in an effort to save energy.

Power being off also seems to mean people forgot that they passed their driver's exam. When I took it (and passed, no mistakes) I quite clearly recall that when the power is out, all traffic light intersections become a 4 way stop. Apparently not everyone remembers that one. I ran down to the video store to bring back some movies (thankfully they had a slot as everything is closed until the power comes back on) and in the space of time it took for me to park, slide the movies in, and then get back out to my car, some dumbass had an accident at the intersection I had just passed through. It was a cabbie, probably tearing off for a fare somewhere. Or more likely, he didn't know about the 4-way stop thing. Most of our cabbies in town are African immigrants (why, I do not know...we are in northern Canada) so maybe they don't do that in Africa....who knows?

Henry continues to improve behaviour wise...but still ever so slowly. His most annoying habit now is waking me up early. Sometimes that involves standing on my chest. Other times it involves rooting around in my room until he gets something he knows he isn't permitted to have, and then chew it up, and maybe even drop it on my head. He also enjoys playing the blinds like a piano too, however that has diminished somewhat. He is also a very vocal kitten, and thoroughly enjoys the sound of his own voice. I think he enjoys the sound of mine somewhat less, particularly when it is yelling at him to STOP IT. PUT THAT DOWN. LEAVE IT ALONE. GO AWAY. STOP TOUCHING THAT. NO. and so on...

Stormy, on the other hand, is his usual mellow self, initiating contact at his will. His dry skin winter itch has not subsided much, and I may have to break down and actually buy some fish oil capsules to stuff down his throat...ew...

I have been severely neglecting a course I'm taking through Athabasca University. I had signed up for it last summer when I was in my old job that required me to do basic counselling with clients. It took so very long to get the paperwork processed (a multitude of reasons, beginning with my then supervisor/boss ignoring the paperwork for weeks on end) that it didn't actually begin until January of this year. Now I'm not working in that job, and the course is somewhat irrelevant to my current job, so my interest has declined accordingly. However, the fact remains that since I have not withdrawn, I need to finish or face an incomplete/failure. And I can't have that...so today I hope to manage two chapters and the related notes/study questions. The big issue is that there are no specific deadlines, other than you need to complete the course by June, and even then you can get an extension. For me, that is too open...I will fuck around until the last minute if I can without that structure. There are online quizzes and assignments...none of which I have even peeked at. For shame...

I guess I should get back to the books again then...I miss the Dana Porter Library in Waterloo...it was much more conducive to studying...

When Cohabitating with Felines

Life is always interesting, when sharing your living space with cats. Stormy and Henry share my space. Interesting is a creative way to frame it, yeah, sure...

• Henry lets you know when he is ready to get up in the morning. How thoughtful! He even remembers to go and rattle the blinds in the bedroom window, and then climb up on top of the tv tower (dresser, tv, vcr, dvd player, trash bin - because he won't leave it alone on the floor) to get at the trash bin yet again...


• Stormy will leap onto your chest to let you know he is ready to be petted. Or else.


• Henry communicates easily. And often.


• Henry has strange fetishes...sponges, dusters, feathers, plastic thingys, and elastic thingys. He went after the swiffer duster yesterday...and won it's heart. Now I have to root out a new one.


• They don't want you to forget them, so thoughtfully leave fur in many forms around your apartment. There is often a hacked up furball incident once a week, particularly since Henry-Long-Fur's arrival.


• They are quite content to be indoor cats. They play in the litter box often, just to remind them of that giant sandbox outside my neighbor's garden, being sure to whip it all around the designated litter box room (my hall closet/storage space). Henry patiently waits for you to clean the box, just so he can go in and play again.


• They look devastatingly cute together - Henry's fair lambswool fur against Stormy's pantherlike coat.


• They love playing together. And wrestling. And making one another cry out loud. Stormy growls at Henry if he gets too close while he eats. So they are fed several feet apart. When Henry is in the bag (there is always a bag to play in) Stormy loves to run and jump on top of it, pinning Henry into the bag. One of his feet are usually in Henry's eye. They also love to chase one another around the apartment - there is a short wall that divides the kitchen/living room, and they like to go around this, and around, and around, and around...
• They will listen to any and all complaints at the end of my day, and ask for nothing in return. They will let me know when they are ready for affection, often while I am doing something else with my hands.
• At least they don't leave the toilet seat up...

Hiccupless Travels

Well, somehow or another, I managed to fly from Yellowknife to Halifax and back in the space of a few days and had NO REAL TRAVEL DELAYS! If anything, my flights arrived early! It was a whirlwind trip, packed with shopping with mother, and a ton for myself, putting furniture together, minor home repairs for them, installing some computer hardware and software, etc. We were both exhausted by the time I left, however we accomplished tons in the two days I was there. Imagine what I could accomplish this summer when I visit...

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming

Sorry for the absence - been busy this week, power shopping in Halifax after flying east to return a child (for work)...tomorrow there shall be a new post. Stay tuned.

Spring is on it's way.

I had my first bbq of the season last night. The thermometer read 0C so I was GAME! Then we

were treated to an awesome display in the northern skies. Today it was warm and I sat out for the first time on my balcony since moving in. My kayak will be the next thing I want to use...though that might be a while considering they are still driving on the ice here...

The summer tires may find their way onto my car now that I live in the city and can get it done. The bicycle is iffy...I have to put it back together again...movers always take the wheels off.

The butt pot is for my friend K. who smokes out there...with the warmer weather she may come over more...lol...right K.???

Crabs?

sent to me by my mother, and it gave me a hoot. I haven't heard man new ones, but I have to say, this one is new to me. Beware, it is somewhat risque.

One day an old lady went to the doctors because she had an itch in her crotch. She told the doctor her problem and he said, 'You have the crabs'. She informed the doctor that it could not be the crabs because she was an eighty year old virgin. She went to another doctor and explained her problem to him. The doctors aid, 'You probably have the crabs' 'No' she said, 'I am an eighty year old virgin.' Frustrated, she went to a third doctor. She said, 'Doctor can you help me? I have an itch in my crotch. Don't tell me that it is the crabs because I am an eighty year old virgin. It can not be the crabs.' The doctor said, 'Jump on the table and let's have a look.' After examining, the doctor proclaimed, 'Ma'am, your right, you do not have the crabs. This cherry is sooooo old, you have fruit flies.'

Okay, tasteless too...or is it...

Life Explained

On the first day, God created the dog and said:
'Sit all day by the door of your house and bark atanyone who comes in or walks past. For this, I will give you a life span of twenty years.'
The dog said: 'That's a long time to be barking. How about only ten years and I'll give you back the other ten?' So God agreed.

On the second day, God created the monkey and said: 'Entertain people, do tricks, and make them laugh. For this, I'll give you a twenty-year life span.'
The monkey said: 'Monkey tricks for twenty years? That's a pretty long time to perform. How about I give you back ten like the Dog did?' And God agreed.

On the third day, God created the cow and said: 'You must go into the field with the farmer all day long and suffer under the sun, have calves and give milk to support the farmer's family. For this, I will give you a life span of sixty years.'
The cow said: 'That's kind of a tough life you want me to live for sixty years. How about twenty and I'll give back the other forty?' And God agreed again.

On the fourth day, God created man and said: 'Eat, sleep, play, marry and enjoy your life. For this,I'll give you twenty years.'
But man said: 'Only twenty years? Could you possibly give me my twenty, the forty the cow gave back, the ten the monkey gave back, and the ten the dog gave back; that makes eighty, okay?' 'Okay,' said God, 'You asked for it.'

So that is why for our first twenty years we eat, sleep,play and enjoy ourselves. For the next forty years we slave in the sun to support our family. For the next ten years we do monkey tricks to entertain the grandchildren. And for the last ten years we sit on the front porch and bark at everyone. Life has now been explained to you. There is no need to thank me for this valuable information. I'm doing it as a public service.

Oh The Indignity Of It All!

This is Sally Ann. She is a dolly that I gave to my daughter for her 1st birthday, nearly 21 years ago. This was THE dolly, and she lugged her around for years and loved her dearly. Sally Ann had many outfits that I sewed for her, including this one made from leftover fabric from my sister's prom dress, and she has had many roles in my daughter's life. At one point, she was one of the "children of England" in her fantasy playland. She never slept without her, and in the mornings would come shuffling out of bed in her pyjamas, Sally Ann tucked under one arm, and then chuck her up on the table beside her to eat breakfast. She travelled with us wherever we went, and it was a bit of a drama the once time we forgot her on our way to the cabin for the weekend.

My daughter has since outgrown her many years ago, now that she's nearly 22 years old. I've been lugging her around with me through my manh moves, not wanting to part with her myself, as she reminds me of the innocence of my daughter's childhood. Her current place was sitting in the rocking chair I rocked my daughter in all those years, which now sits in the spare room.

I happened to go into the spare room this morning and found her in this condition. Poor Sally Ann has been brutalized, and the culprit is Henry VIII, feline. He ripped her dress off her and there are several teeth marks in her dress, and on her body. I've since moved her to a shelf in my closet for safety reasons.

Oh, the indignity of it all.

Sigh...Call Centres

Ok. I hate calling call centres to begin with, but they are a necessary evil. Who else will deal with complaints. GAWD knows no one is available in person. I hate going through the plethora of automated menus - press one, press two, press pound, BLAH BLAH BLAH! And then you get put on hold forever, if anyone even bothers to pick up the phone. And can someone please explain to me why call centres continue to hire people who can't SPEAK ENGLISH!!! I get SO DAMNED IRRITATED when I call and have to keep explaining myself because the idiot at the other end of the line can't understand English. I live in Canada. We have two official languages...English is one of them. I am not in Quebec, so therefore I should be able to receive service in English without having to repeat what I am saying a dozen times.

Today was no exception. I have been having issues with my phone jack in the living room. I've fried three phones now by touching it and getting zapped with static electricity. The phones have died, mid-ring, never to work again. So after the third phone fried, I decided to call the phone company. The first call, three menus later, I get a ringing phone...that no one answered...WTF? So I hung up after about 20 rings, and tried again. This time I got a person, English speaking...groovy...we're in the zone. I explain the problem to her and she agrees to put in a "service ticket" and someone will call me tomorrow. I provide her with numbers to reach me at, and the call is over...great.

About 30 minutes later the phone rings. My phone rarely rings, so I dash off into the bedroom to answer it (I refuse to plug yet another phone into the jack in the living room, only to fry). It was the phone company and I was not in the zone. Some foreigner was calling to tell me that he received my service ticket. I explained the problem and he told me someone would call me tomorrow. So I asked him what the purpose of his call today was, considering the person I spoke to just 30 minutes ago told me exactly the same thing. He didn't understand the question...so I explained it to him again, in plain ENGLISH. So then he said someone would come out to check it out tomorrow. I asked him when, because I work tomorrow in the afternoon, but am home in the morning. He said someone will come out tomorrow. Um, listen idiot, I know that, but when tomorrow...there are 24 hours in the day...can you at least pick one of them? So I clarified again what I meant, in plain ENGLISH. He doesn't respond and tells me there will be a charge. WTF? Why do I have to pay for an unsafe jack in my apartment? He tells me that the phone company doesn't repair anything inside of a building...oh for fuck's sake...you have GOT to be kidding me. I am not talking about a god damn Radio Shack jack, I am calling about a builder installed wall jack. Sorry, ma'am...there will be a charge. So I tell him to forget it, I am not paying to have someone else's equipment fixed. He tells me my landlord must fix it...WTF? They don't have phone technicians...they have Tony the handyman...

Sigh...so then I tell him not to send anyone because I am not paying for it. He repeats what I said and informs me he is writing a note on the file that I will not pay for anyone to come and that someone will call me tomorrow. Um, what? So I ask him why is someone going to call me when you aren't going to fix the jack without charging me for it, and I told you I am not going to pay for anyone to come? He says "he will come tomorrow". Sigh...so then I got pissy and hollered something rude like "why can't I speak to someone who speaks English???" and hung up the phone. I wonder if someone will phone me or come...

I hate call centres...

St. Valentine Was a Sadist

Valentine's day is for lovers. When you don't have one, it is nothing but a horrible reminder that you are alone while others celebrate their love for each other. Boo. Love sucks. The only good thing about Valentine's day is the sweet treats...pass the chocolates, I'll have a double.

I don't recall it being any less miserable as a child either. We made those stupid valentine boxes/folders/bags and spent the whole day before decorating them with construction paper hearts, paper lace doilies, glitter, ribbon, whatever you could find in the classroom. And then you diligently made out your 30 valentines at home the night before, trying not to give the wrong person the wrong idea - don't want to give too cute of a one to the gross guy who makes armpit farts with his hand...he might think you like him. And hoped like hell the guy you had a crush on gave you a nice one, if at all. And if he wasn't in your class, it likely didn't happen, and hearts were broken again...sob!

So, if you have someone to kiss tomorrow - lucky you. I'll be eating chocolate at home with the only boys in my life...Stormy and Henry.

My Flaky Cat

Stormy is big and black, and has dandruff...or at the very least, dry skin. It's quite dry in the north, and his skin is flaking off all over the place. I'm sure it's driving him nuts, though I haven't seen him scratching much. The remedy is to either add moisture (near impossible...it gets SUCKED into the air and evaporates quicker than I could add it) or to add fish oil to his diet. Via didn't like fish, so I hadn't been in the habit of buying any fish flavored cat food, but in light of his flaky skin, I thought I might try it. He practically inhaled it...and Henry turned his nose up at it. His loss...

The irony is, I am allergic to animal dander, and this dry skin of Stormy's is exactly the portion I am allergic to...sneeze, snort, sniff...good thing I love that boy...he still gets his snuggles regardless of the level of flakiness...

Aging

It ain't pretty. It also hurts like a bitch. I've been told I likely have bursitis in my hip and knee. I'm just 41 years old. I feel much older...thank goodness my heating pad has been giving me some relief, as meds did nothing for it.

All I can hear in my head though is my aging mother saying "oh, me hip"...

Short Break - I'm Getting Old

So I have the net at home tonight after all...the Freezone is up and running again, lol...

I am also getting old...or I am getting old people's issues...hip and knee pain sent me to the outpatient clinic at the hospital and after hours there last night, and a shot of toradol (no relief), I was sent home and requested to come back this morning for an x-ray. Back to the hospital this morning, x-rays and 3 hours later, they tell me they are not quite sure what is wrong but they know what isn't wrong. Their best guess was bursitis...yes...bursitis...something I typically would associate with my grandmother...not me. I am just 41 years young...how can I have bursitis???

I think I shall hobble off to bed now, taking my aging joints with me...

Break Time

I posted similar on my other blog...have lost my "freezone" wireless internet at home (GASP!) because the network I was camping out on either figured out how to secure it, or they moved out...either way, I am without access until this weekend when I can get my own up and running. Not much choice of ISP's up here, so have to take what I can get. Stay tuned...

My Boys This Weekend

Here's some recent shots of the boys. Henry has his nail caps on...pink ones! I had bought them for poor little Via, but they arrived after she was put down. He doesn't seem to mind them much, and it has certainly curbed his scratching on my bed and wicker trunk. Stormy is "in the bag" in his photo...loves getting into paper bags, gift bags, plastic bags, you name it.

Grief & Loss: What To Do?

I can hardly write this without balling my eyes out. What do you do when there has been an accumulation of loss and you don't want any more? I know what the social worker inside me says - deal with it, and move on when you're ready.

No one has died recently (other than the talented Heath Ledger) but everywhere I look there has been loss - death, change, deterioration, and loss of a way of life. I thought I had been dealing with things well enough, but I think the final straw was knowing that the one community I had been able to call home is facing significant change, and possibly closure at some point. It wasn't like I didn't see it coming. I'd been hearing about the possibility for decades, long before I chose to live there for 12 years.

The losses vary:

• loss of so many family members to cancer - 3 sister-in-laws, all under age 50; all of my grandparents, and two uncles, not to mention several distant relatives, and family friends; and others coping with cancer right now. I hate cancer...


• pets - lost my feline friend Via in April after nearly 10 years with her - she came from that tiny community I call home; and then last fall I lost my canine friend, Penny, who lived in that community with my parents after I moved away. She was nearly 14 years old.


• my father has had some significant health issues that have affected his whole way of life and needs more care than he expected, and making changes in my parents lives they weren't really counting on.


• the potential closure of this small community.

I think back of all the memories, and how most everything relates to this small community - it has been the anchor for so much of my life. No matter where I have lived all over this country, this community has been there for me, a constant. I am now in my 30th home in 41 years, and every chance I got in those 41 years, I went to visit that community. I lived there for 12, had grandparents there for decades, and my parents retired there for more than a decade. I still have a house there (co-owned with the ex) on my family's land, granted to my great-grandfather near the turn of the century. I was married there; I raised my only daughter there; I built my house with my own hands there (with the ex) from the ground up.

The fondest of memories flood me, and I know many of my faithful readers will share in them - if they weren't there, they have similar memories:

• swimming up in Big Pond, jumping off diving point into the chilly waters. We numbed up after the first few jumps, and swam sometimes twice or three times a day (counting those late night dips in our undergarments!)


• walking in across the many frozen ponds in winter, sliding down the hills on our bums, happiest when there was a thick crust of snow and "glitter" (ice rain)...moonlit or the brilliant sun, made no difference to us - it was so good to go out, even if the CRACK! of the ice made us all screech out loud!


• the sound of outboard motor boats heading out to traps and nets in the early morning, and then returning in the afternoons; on calm days, you could hear the fishermen (and women!) talking to one another, clanging their gear around


• the blow of the "steamer" (coastal ferry) when she came into the harbour, boats like the Tavener, the Bonavista, the Coaster, the Runner...


• the sweet smell of Mayflowers on Mother's Day, picked on the hills surrounding the harbour


• the sight of an older gentleman, sitting on the counter of a local store, looking out the window, greeting all who entered the store. He used to run that store, wrapping sliced bologna in brown paper and string that my grandmother saved up in a paper bag


• going out in the boat on Sundays for a picnic on some island beach, or shoreline cove, exploring what we could, having a boil-up for supper


• parties at my house - many knew how they went...usually started with playing cards well into the night, generous amounts of alcohol, loud music, food fights, dancing on the coffee table, and the notorious "pool party" and "lipstick caper"...I can still picture S.B. with my ex's shorts on, and fuzzy slippers, doing his impression of Superman...


• picking berries on the hills, hoping the bears didn't come along and catch you - blueberries, partridgeberries, marshberries (most called them meshberries), and the elusive and much coveted bakeapples - God help you if you trampled any of those and were caught by the serious berrypickers!


• stomping the night away at the Cramalott Inn (local gathering place, for drinks, cooking up a scoff, jokes, stories, music, cards, and more). How many nights did folks fall asleep to the sound of shoes thumping the floor late into the night as things really got rocking...and how many packs of cards, radios, tables, and who knows what else got thrown over the cliff in the heat of an argument or frustration. SOOO many memories for that place - dancing in the dark, jugs of water thrown into a surprised face, my sister writing in "the book" and taking roll call, mussel boils, the "outhouse" (a funnel connected to a pipe that ran to the ocean), the stacks of beer bottles that paid for the place's expenses, the many colors of the Cramalott Inn walls...J.B. holding his beer bottle to the light to check for fingers...


• card games at the school, and getting the "booby prize"; dart games at the school and the sour looks from others when you scored well or finished a game!


• weddings at the Orangemen's Lodge, and then later at the school - another host of memories...live bands, djs, the bending floor when the crowds were up to stomp out a good jig, arguing over what music to play when there was no dj, waiting for your turn in the one toilet per gender, standing around outside with the smokers for a bit of "fresh" air, and trying not to fall into the ditch on the way home


• the two-room school where my daughter went from K-5 before we moved away. She spent all those years in a grade by herself, as did many others over the years, and their Christmas concerts - the kids were so good to remember so much, even if you couldn't understand much of it (well, I couldn't, with my "outsider ears")


• going house to house on Christmas night, for a drink, a snack, and a barrel of laughs - like when J.B. bounced his way across somene's bridge (deck) on Moon Shoes...


• walking "over around" to get the mail on mail days, and standing around while it was called out while you waited for each coveted piece of mail, parcel card, Sears catalog, or store flyer


• meeting the ferry when it arrived in the harbour and tied up at the wharf - didn't matter if you didn't have anyone coming on the ferry - you went just to see who else did, or what freight came on the boat, or just for something to do; it was often the highlight of the day, unless you were going on it, and you were ready to hurl your guts out before you even boarded, smelling the stench of diesel fumes...


• huge fires up in the "arm" on Bonfire Night in November - the kids would work for weeks prior, dragging off all the old deadwood they could find, taking down old hen houses, shacks, fish flakes, you name it, keeping the harbour tidy of old relics


• going for walks around the harbour, lap after lap, across the breakwater - you didn't dare not take it to the very end and touch the ground before turning around


• seeing O.B. out walking, day after day, making his rounds, so used to going to the power house in the days before we were hooked into the main power grid.
• playing over on "the head" and hiding amongst the rocks, climbing down "the devil's slide" or crossing "the bar" at low tide, hoping you made it back before it began to rise
• walking down to Sandbanks, where they used to keep the sheep

I could go on, and on, and on...and you know what...I feel better already, having revisited memory lane. At least the crying has stopped...for now...

Missing Heath

Heath Ledger was found dead in his apartment today. I am shocked and saddened. I loved his acting, particularly in The Four Feathers, The Patriot, and A Knight's Tale. He was 28 years old.

Oh The Idiocy Of It All

I thought I might attempt to put up the last of what I have to go on the walls tonight, which are some 4 inch tall painted wooden letters that spell out words I wanted on the walls. Off I go with measuring tape and pencil in hand to make sure they end up on straight, and well spaced on the chosen wall. I'm not real tall at 5'4" so took my trusty plastic Rubbermaid stool with me, thinking I would not need the height of a chair. After some initial measurements, I shuffled around on the stool, and before I knew it, BAM CRASH BANG OH FUCK THE PAIN! My foot had managed to bust its way through the centre of the stool. I think it was because I generally don't centre my weight on the weakest part (the centre), usually choosing to hover at the edges where the weight bearing legs are. Tonight I did not. My foot went through the stool to the floor. Given that the stools are not that wide, and my foot is an average size 8, my toes did not wish to go with the rest of the foot. Instead they chose to hang up on the jagged edges of plastic created by the foot.

After the howling, whimpering and whining stopped, I checked out the damage and noticed blood was pouring from 4 places...two spots between my middle and next smallest toes (one was a rather deep gash) a spot on the outer edge of my baby toe, and a spot on the back of my ankle, on the achilles tendon, along with a scrape on the outer edge of my ankle. Three bandaids later, and I was back to work, standing on a wooden chair instead. The stool is toast...

And oh the irony of it all...the letters for the wall? They spell PEACE, HOPE, and LOVE...

Why Does It Take So LONG???

(sent to me by my friend K. this morning)

When you have to visit a public bathroom, you usually find a line of women, so you smile politely and take your place. Once it's your turn, you check for feet under the stall doors. Every stall is occupied.

Finally, a door opens and you dash in, nearly knocking down the woman leaving the stall. You get in to find the door won't latch. It doesn't matter, the wait has been so long you are about to wet your pants! The dispenser for the modern "seat covers" (invented by someone's Mom, no doubt) is handy, but empty. You would hang your purse on the door hook, if there was one, but there isn't - so you carefully, but quickly drape it around your neck,(Mom would turn over in her grave if you put it on the FLOOR!),yank down your pants, and assume " The Stance."

In this position your aging, toneless thigh muscles begin to shake. You'd love to sit down, but you certainly hadn't taken time to wipe the seat or lay toilet paper on it, so you hold "The Stance. "To take your mind off your trembling thighs, you reach for what you discover to be the empty toilet paper dispenser. In your mind, you can hear your mother's voice saying, "Honey, if you had tried to clean the seat, you would have KNOWN there was no toilet paper!"

Your thighs shake more. You remember the tiny tissue that you blew your nose on yesterday - the one that's still in your purse.(Oh yeah, the purse around your neck, that now, you have to hold up trying not to strangle yourself at the same time).That would have to do. You crumple it in the puffiest way possible. It's still smaller than your thumbnail.

Someone pushes your door open because the latch doesn't work. The door hits your purse, which is hanging around your neck in front of your chest, and you and your purse topple backward against the tank of the toilet."Occupied!" you scream, as you reach for the door, dropping your precious, tiny, crumpled tissue in a puddle on the floor, lose your footing altogether, and slide down directly onto the TOILET SEAT.

It is wet of course. You bolt up, knowing all too well that it's too late. Your bare bottom has made contact with every imaginable germ and life form on the uncovered seat because YOU never laid down toilet paper - not that there was any, even if you had taken time to try.You know that your mother would be utterly appalled if she knew, because, you're certain her bare bottom never touched a public toilet seat because, frankly, dear,"You just don't KNOW what kind of diseases you could get."

By this time, the automatic sensor on the back of the toilet is so confused that it flushes, propelling a stream of water like a fire hose against the inside of the bowl that sprays a fine mist of water that covers your butt and runs down your legs and into your shoes. The flush somehow sucks everything down with such force that you grab onto the empty toilet paper dispenser for fear of being dragged in too.

At this point, you give up. You're soaked by the spewing water and the wet toilet seat. You're exhausted. You try to wipe with a gum wrapper you found in your pocket and then slink out inconspicuously to the sinks. You can't figure out how to operate the faucets with the automatic sensors, so you wipe your hands with spit and a dry paper towel and walk past the line of women still waiting.

You are no longer able to smile politely to them. A kind soul at the very end of the line points out a piece of toilet paper trailing from your shoe.(Where was that when you NEEDED it??) You yank the paper from your shoe, plunk it in the woman's hand and tell her warmly, "Here, you just might need this."

As you exit, you spot your hubby, who has long since entered, used, and left the men's restroom. Annoyed, he asks, "What took you so long, and why is your purse hanging around your neck?"

This is dedicated to women everywhere who deal with public restrooms (rest??? you've GOT to be kidding!!). It finally explains to the men what really does take us so long. It also answers their other commonly asked questions about why women go to the restroom in pairs. It's so the other gal can hold the door, hang onto your purse and hand you Kleenex under the door!

The Socializing and Training of Young Henry

Well, I was beginning to get quite frustrated with young Henry VIII, as he wasn't listening and was defiant as an insolent child, but in the past few weeks he has come a long way. He still has his stubborn moments, but now he responds to my voice, as long as it is short sharp commands. If my neighbors can hear me, they are probably wondering what the hell is going on..."STOP!" "NO!" "GET DOWN!" "DON'T TOUCH!" "LEAVE IT ALONE!" "GET OUT OF THERE!" and so on...

He has certainly come a long way from the defiant feline he was while we bunked in with my friend C. She would come after him with the spray bottle and he would run through it like a sprinkler...

he's come a long way from that fuzzy little kitten he was pictured here...

Da Boyz

This was the scene here tonight...the boys cuddled into one another on the sofa in their bed, and then later Henry got up and curled up on the table. With all the soft surfaces around, couches, chairs, beds, ottomans, etc, he chooses the table to curl up on...what a weirdo...but they sure look cute don't they?

Ah The Joys Of Apartment Living

or not. I turned my stereo on this afternoon and played James Blunt's 1973, which is quite heavy on bass guitar. It wasn't long before I got to meet my upstairs neighbor. I think she was hearing someone else play loud music though as she said it had been going on for a while, and my cd was still on the first track. She told me that my neighbors to the left also play music quite loud sometimes, but I haven't really heard much...haven't been here to hear much. All I know is I rather enjoy playing my music loud sometimes when I am doing household chores, so I can hear it through the house and sing along (awfully I might add, but who cares?). I also have not been in an apartment since 1999 when I moved off campus, so I haven't had to turn down the music since then. Sigh...I might have to do chores with my mp3 player on instead. If they complain about THAT, we shall have words.

It's only 4:30PM in the afternoon after all...

Diced Ham Cookies

You have got to be kidding...I pulled this from an ad next to the news...

How Much Is That Kitty In The Window?

CHEAP. For one buck in Monopoly money, he's yours. Sure, he looks cute and all, but at 6am in the morning when he wants to play...nothing is cute. His favorite form of early morning torture (there are several) is to get up on the windowsill and rattle the metal mini-blind...endlessly. I get up, I yell at him, I take him off and tell him a sharp NO! and put him on the floor again. He goes directly BACK to the windowsill. We play this game for a few rounds before I am no longer saying just NO, I am also cursing and swearing and calling him names. Then he decides he is going to bring a toy mouse into my bedroom and chase it around. Fine if he could just play quietly but not Henry. He needs to jam it in behind something so he can scratch and paw at it endlessly until I get up and turn the lights on so I can find the fucking toy and TAKE it from him. So then he goes back to the blinds again. More of that game, and he gets the message about the window. Then he decides to sharpen his claws on my boxspring and mattress. More cursing and swear and I pound on the mattress to distract him. Then it's time to get into the trashbin beside my bed, and he hits the jackpot - there is a plastic crinkly bag in there to rustle. SO I get up once again, take the trash bin and put it on top of the dresser where he can't reach it. Then it's back to the blinds. Sigh. I pull out my MP3 player and give up, listen to music to drown the little fucker out and try to get back to sleep again. He only does these things in my bedroom, early morning and late night.

I may actually pay someone to take him.

Going Home

Well, my Christmas vacation is nearly over. I fly home this afternoon and while I will miss my girl dearly, I am glad to be going home, to my own bed, my own kitties, my own mess...I can just imagine the sniff fest that will occur upon my arrival at home as I have been around about 8 kitties, 5 dogs and countless people. They will know that I have cheated on them...

It has been a great vacation, with plenty of down time to relax and veg on the sofa, which is just what was needed after such a busy fall. I didn't open my books for my new course once, actually didn't take them out of the suitcase! However that will need to change next week as the course began this month...time to spit out my gum and pay attention...

Now I'm just hoping the damn flight leaves on time, and we don't have to deal with YET another broken plane.

Christmas When Your Mother Visits

This time I was the mother spending Christmas with her daughter in her own place she shares with her boyfriend. I have nearly bitten my tongue off so many times, wanting to keep my mouth shut...hearing my own mother's voice (and Thumper's, from Bambi) "if you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all"...and realizing I did not want to be a meddling mother who visits. However, as anyone who knows me, that isn't easy and things slipped out...and I was swiftly reminded that it's her house...heh heh.

Not wanting to having people over for dinner tomorrow in a messy place, I shut my face and got to work, hearing someone else's voice "if you're not part of the solution, then you're part of the problem". I cleaned the floors, did my laundry(and some of theirs), cleaned the kitchen, bathroom, vacuumed and tidied up the rooms of junk, Christmas stocking stuff that has spread all over, bits of trash like candy wrappings, wrapping paper, gift tags, ribbon, or twist ties from some random gift...you know, the usual, bagging it up with the emptied wastebins from all the rooms. And I started packing my suitcase. Not because I am ready to leave, but because I am going to be busy over the remaining days so thought I should get a little organized.

Now I can relax and dive back into Stephen King's Lisey's Story while waiting for my darling daughter to come home from work and head out grocery shopping with her and the other.

Slothful Christmas Vacation

highlights...

• board games - Trivial Pursuit (Pop Culture DVD edition); Scene It; Family Guy Monopoly; Pictionary
• video games - Family Guy for PS2 and some Nintendo Wii games.
• chocolate, lots of chocolate
• deep, delicious naps
• snuggling with kitties, mostly Squirrel, the kitten, because McGee won't cuddle with anyone, and Irelyn is a bitch most of the time
• movies, movies, movies on DVD and digital cable
• prowling the net, mostly Crackbook (Facebook)
• more eating
• novel reading indulgence

and some of the usual holiday chores...putting up and taking down the tree, cooking and cleaning up the mess that goes with it, laundry, tidying up the candy wrappers and wrapping paper...

Oh what a glorious slothful Christmas Vacation...and I don't return to work until January 7, 2008.