Oh Lord, Give Me Strength

We have dogs. A big one and a little one. I am not a dog person but even I know that you don't feed dogs people food. All sorts of awful things happen when you feed them people food. They get sick. They get runny diarrhoea. They become fixated on food and lose their desire to be normal dogs. They die. All sorts of awful things can happen.

This knowledge makes no difference whatsoever to Bill. For years and years, through several dogs, Bill has been told, nagged, yelled at, lectured and beseeched to not feed the dogs people food. But in spite of obvious consequences, he seems to be totally unable to exercise self-discipline and refrain from tossing inappropriate tidbits to them. On one famous (in the immediate family anyway) occasion a few years ago, he fed one of our dogs twelve chocolate cupcakes. When I found out, fairly soon after the feast, I tied the dog up on our deck as per the normal routine and with payback purpose in mind, I moved a lot of lumber, tools and bricks in to the same corner as the dog. By the time that poor dog was through, there wasn't much of the building supplies that wasn't coated in a fine layer of excrement. And, because of what was under the deck, it couldn't be simply hosed off. Bill had to carry every piece down to the back and hose it off there. And our poor dog recently died from kidney failure. Think there is a connection? Now, no matter what Bill has done or not done, any episode of poo in our house is his responsibility. He has to clean messes up off the floor, he has to pick up poo outside, he has to clean our little hairy dog if poo sticks to her.

Yesterday morning both dogs were put out to do their morning ablutions. Molly, the little hairy one, stayed out way way longer than her normal routine. Finally I called her in. As she came up the sidewalk she would stop every few steps, hunch up then drag her butt a ways on the ground. She would then walk a few more steps, stop, hunch up and drag her butt. She finally arrived at the door and upon inspection there was the evidence that she had been eating something she shouldn't have. Nicely glued all over her ass was....well....you can guess. I hollered for Bill. Bill didn't come. So I scooped her up and holding her at arms length I went in search of him. I found him in the bathroom, stark nekkid and about to get into the shower. I simply handed the dog over to a surprised Bill and exited the bathroom. No words were necessary. After a few minutes I heard Bill go into the kitchen and back into the bathroom. I was busy so I didn't pay much attention.

After some time I was kind of wondering what was happening in there, I opened the door and peeked in. No Bill. No Molly. What??? So I stepped into the bathroom, gingerly pulled the shower curtain aside a little and OH MY GOD!! There was Bill, facing the shower, holding Molly, ass side up under a pounding stream of hot water. He would swish her this way. Then he would swish her that way. Then he would kind of bounce her up and down. She looked positively terrified. I quickly left the bathroom, shaking my head.

I retreated to the kitchen and proceeded to do the dishes. After a few minutes i happened to glance down the hall just as the bathroom door opened and a very wet dog was fired out into the hallway, door shutting quickly behind her. For one stunned moment she just stood there blinking, Then suddenly she shook herself vigorously, hunched her back, then plopped her ass on the floor and started to drag her ass, again. Behind her was a little brown trail. I dashed over, scooped her up, flipped her upside down and, yes, there was the evidence. All the shower did was make it mushier and messier. Jeez!!! I also noticed that a lot of hair had been hacked off her back end. I grabbed her towel and wrapped her up and went back into the bathroom. And, yes, sitting right there on the counter were my good kitchen scissors, the ones we use for opening food bags, cutting green onions, snipping beans etc... And they were covered. One more item for the dog bag.

After he was dressed, Bill took her to Doggie Sudz and had her washed. It would just be a whole lot easier for dog and all to not feed her people food.

I DIDN'T KNOW I COULD RUN!

Yesterday morning we met Aryn out at MacDonald Beach by the airport. There is a large walk area, field and river for the dogs to run off leash. I have never been a "dog" person per se. I am not one to make a decision that would put the dogs' need over my own or that of one of my family (read human). But, because it was a chance to combine dog walkies with a visit with Aryn talkies, I agreed to meet her.

The first thing I noticed on our way over was the weather. It was blowing and sleeting. Anyone who knows me knows I DON'T WALK IN THE RAIN!!! I had to laugh and I said to Bill "I will have to tell Aryn that this is the kind of weather where we stay in the truck and watch all the crazy dog walkers battle the weather and laugh at their doggedness!!"

When we arrived, Aryn and I unleashed our beasts and started off. As cold and sleety as it was, it was awesome walking along the river and watching the dogs play and run and meet and greet. This really is new to me and I was surprised how much I enjoyed it. I still think it had more to do with Aryn than making my dog happy. I love spending any time I can with any of my kids, especially the older they get. They become increasingly more interesting and increasingly more illusive. We had a lovely time.

When we left, Bill and I drove over to the runway and watched the planes landing for a while. When leaving, we kept an eye out for random hunks of driftwood for the garden. I spied one in a blocked off dirt area beside the bird sanctuary waters. Leaning on a five foot high pile of dirt, was a fairly long piece of log/driftwood, all swirly and well worn. I had Bill stop the truck. I hopped out and stepped over the log barrier and bent down and flipped the log up and over. It was perfect! Then I looked down where the log had been and sitting right where the hollow had been, was what appeared to be a nest. About the size of my hand was a pile of grasses, feathers and tiny twigs. Bill got out of the truck and came over. I was going to boot the little pile, but something made me hold back. Bill said it was probably a nest of some sort. I said "Poke it!" He did, he flipped the top portion off. Holy Jesus!!!!! At least fifteen mice bolted out of that nest. They just kept coming and coming and they scattered everywhere at a million mlles an hour. Within a nano second one had bolted right over onto Bill's shoe! Well, this fat old lady screamed like a little girl and ran like a gazelle! Honestly, I didn't know I could move like that!!!!! I leapt over the log barrier and stopped and turned to look. Oh CRAP!! They were running right over those logs and under the truck and right at me. I ran and ran some more and every time I looked back there were more and more...EVERYWHERE!!! Well, I started laughing and I just couldn't stop. It was the funniest thing and those little mice just didn't stop coming up out of that hole. Oh MY God!! Finally I bolted over to the truck and leapt in. Bill, big old Bill, had been standing stoically in one spot by the nest. And finally even he started to shake his legs and do a little evasive dancing. He finally marched smartly over to the truck and hopped in, much more quickly than usual. Laughing, we drove off. I took a moment to feel really bad for the mice. They lost their little house and it was perfect for them. And we didn't even take the log!

PURPLE GLASSES

I have new glasses and they are purple! I love them.

Whilst in London, Bill and I went to the tacky, emo, goth market in Camdon Town. It was freezing cold and slippery but fun just the same. As I sat at the picnic table sharing my lunch with about forty pigeons (on the table and helping themselves right out of my dish), I noticed that the world had tilted just a little. What the heck? Upon inspection I noticed that my glasses had broken in the upper left corner. The frame had completely split and it was only a matter of time before the lens would fall out completely.

I panicked. First my front tooth falls off my upper plate and now my glasses were broken and I was a long long way from home. As I sat there in total turmoil, swatting at pigeons, I noticed a little old east indian man, bent over his jewelry making table. His sign advertised cleaning and repairs of jewelry. Yes!!! I thought. Repairs, it said. I know my glasses aren't jewelry but he must have glue and tools! So I called my ever faithful Billy over and said, "Here, take these over to him and see if he can fix them." I took off my specs, rendering myself blind, and sent them off. He was over there for over twenty minutes! It seemed to take forever. Finally Bill came back with repaired glasses and a big smile. Apparently there was no way the fellow would take any money!! I went over a profusely thanked him.

Later that afternoon we were in the Victoria Station shopping centre. I leaned over Bill's shoulder to see what he was talking about just as he flung his fist up to point. Smack! Right in my left eye and snap! there went my glasses. Only the break was much worse this time! So I sent him off and he came back with crazy glue. We sat at a table in the food fair and removed my glasses and let him fiddle around until he had them all glued together. I put them on and aside from a wee tilt on the left lens, they worked just fine.....until I took them off. They were glued to a bit of my hair and long story short, I am now missing a little clump of side hair and man did that hurt!

So, today I humped myself down to LensCrafters and picked out a pair of dark purple raybans, awesome glasses, and a second pair to make into sunglasses. I love them and whats more no one is even noticing them so they must fit in really well.

AN ENCOUNTER

Something happened the last day we were in London last week. It keeps floating around in my brain. I think maybe if I write it down here it will go away and park itself where it belongs in my mind, and stay there.

On that last day we had a whole morning to kill. Our hotel was near a shopping centre at Victoria Station. I suggested to Bill that we go there to look for leg warmers. We hadn't been that successful in finding them up to this point.

By the time we got there though, my back was hurting to the point where walking around was now totally unappealing. So he sent me up to the food court and he said he would go around searching. So up I went, bought a coffee, and started to look for an unoccupied table. There wasn't one. So, I looked for an empty chair at an occupied table that maybe someone wouldn't mind my sitting at. I never do that, not sure why but I don't. As I searched around a young woman sitting alone at a table for two caught my eye. She was sitting before a pushed away half eaten breakfast, her hands wrapped around a cup of tea and her face was a study in total grief. Her whole aura emanated sadness and despair. I approached her and asked if she minded if I sat down with her. She answered yes, with more reluctance than desire. I thanked her and sat down.

It was uncomfortable, awkward. Neither of us said anything for a moment. To help get past this part of the "sharing a table with a stranger" I quickly and efficiently "accidently" spilled a wee part of my coffee. Quick as wink, acting more out of instinct than a favour, she grabbed her breakfast napkins and started mopping. I was apologizing profusely and she was acting as a hostess, cleaning and reassuring. She took the mess including the detritus from her meal to the garbage, and returned to her table and tea and me. I thanked her and the awkward moment eased.

She asked where I was from, probably noticing my accent. I told her. I asked if she was Christmas shopping. She said no, and it all slid into silence. Finally I leaned forward and asked if she was alright. She continued to look into her tea. I said that if she wanted to talk, I would be a good one to talk to. She doesn't know me, I don't know her and I was leaving that afternoon, never to be seen again by her. But...if she preferred not to, that was fine too.

She looked up and her eyes had filled with tears. As they slowly slid down her cheeks she told me she had lost a baby yesterday. Oh My God!! What do you say to that? So I leaned in and just simply said, "Tell me. From the beginning." And she did. About halfway through her story I saw Bill approaching, and I silently signaled to him to go away. Having been married forever, he understood what was happening, bless his heart.

She told me about her little boy of three at home. She told me about a loving and wonderful husband. She told me about wanting another baby and getting pregnant so easily. She told me about the feeling she had the other day. The feeling that something wasn't right. She told me how she went to the Doctor and found out she was right. Things were not okay. She told me about her trip to the hospital the day before, removing all evidence she ever was pregnant. She told about her profound and devastating grief, her lost little baby. What does one respond with to that?

When she finished she actually apologized to me for pouring out this whole sad story to me whilst I am on holiday. I couldn't believe it!! So I told her the only thing I knew.

I told her that when my youngest was 18 months, I accidentally became pregnant. I wasn't ready for that but we quickly became adjusted then ecstatic. We prepared the nursery, bought some baby stuff, picked out names, told the family and explained it to a very dense one and a half year old. I told her how at sixteen weeks, due to my age, I went in for my amniocentesis to check for genetic problems. I told her how the technician doing the preparatory ultra sound rushed out and came back in with a battalion of doctors and nurses. I told her how after a few more minutes of searching sliding on my tummy, the doctor kindly told me the baby was no longer living, in fact had died around 12 weeks.

But...I went on to tell her that I immediately started trying to become pregnant again, and within two months I was. I told her how months later they handed me my youngest son, a son I love more than anything in the world (well as much as my other three!!). I told her that if not for losing that "Wee One in the Middle" as we named him/her, I would not have Monte. And that is unthinkable. So...I suggested she go home and start trying for the one she is supposed to have and to just never forget about the "Wee One in the Middle."

She smiled a little and leaned forward and put a hand over mine. All she said was thank you, squeezed my hand, smiled again and got up and left. I continued to just sit there completely in another world when I suddenly heard "Hey!! I found them!" And there was Bill, swinging a bag of leg warmers in the air.

Home Yet Again

Well, we arrived back yesterday evening. The trip home was smooth and easy. The more DIY travelling becomes, the better it is. While we were in London we met my brother Stan. He was on his last leg home from a two month African Safari. Needless to say he had a million amazing stories to tell.

We started with breakfast at the Jury's inn where we spent the nite. He regaled us with fascinating stories through breakfast and in the car all the way to Stonehenge, Bath and Stroud (our Dad's roots). All the stories were about the camping, animal spotting, truck breakdowns, scenery beyond compare, photography etc.... Most fascinating.

On our way back to London he happened to mention something, just a tiny aside, that instantly caught my attention. He mentioned another travel mate, and she was from Campbell River, where my brother lives. Now, seeing as there are only six people on this trip, from all over the planet, another person from Campbell River would be just too much of a coincidence. "What??" I asked. "From Campbell River?" I asked incredulously. "Did you know her? Was that planned? WTF??????"

And then he told the most amazing story, far more interesting and captivating than his lion/zebra encounters!!! And I hope he never reads this blog because he is such an honourable person and the lady that showed up on that trip is an older person and friends of friends of theirs and he would never publicize her faux pas. But I will! Don't tell him though.

It took me all the rest of the whole two days he was there to try to understand what happened. It was all a little bizarre. After a gruelling forty hour trip and a long walkabout in Cape town, he was understandably exhausted. While sitting at a table in the lobby at his laptop, he fell sound asleep. After about two hours, in the deadest of dead sleeps, someone tapped him on the shoulder and awoke him. He looked up to see (I will call her anna) Anna standing over him grinning. Anna is best friends with a friend of Antonia (Stan's wife) The friend (I will call her betty) Betty is eighty one years old and Anna helps her out as Anna is only about 70. They have been best friends forever. Stan and Antonia have been friends with Betty for years and through her have become acquainted with this Anna. But, according to Stan, after much prodding and nosing from me, admitted that Antonia and he don't like her because she is so self centred. They don't have a lot to do with Anna, by choice. And, there she was, in Capetown waking my brother from a deep sleep. He said that initially he thought he was having a nightmare, but reality soon sunk in. She had heard about Stan's trip, and without a word to him, she piggybacked on his trip and just showed up.

Stan was in shock and disbelief and totally horrified. He didn't say much to her at that moment, picked up his stuff and went to his room. Two hours later the anger had built to a point that he knew he would have to confront her. So he went to her room and knocked on her door. Out in the hallway he confronted her. He gave her holy shit about how he had spent months researching the trip, years and years thinking about the trip, planned and packed with huge forethought and many lists and he sure as hell was not prepared to share this experience with her or have to spend one minute looking after her. Keep in mind that there was a lot of gruelling physical hiking etc, putting up your own tent every night, sketchy food etc.... This woman is over seventy and not that fit or capable. He ended by issuing an ultimatum. Either she quits the trip or he would. So she agreed and went to the tour operators. A while later there was a knock on his door. The tour director (and the tour people is another whole unbelievable story I wormed out of him) threatened Stan. He told him that if she didn't go they were going to charge Stan double! Long story short, she went, she needed looking after and Stan sucked it up best he could to make it all work as best as possible.

Somewhere in there he started to talk about the evil woman tour guide that was with them. Some of those stories were incredible....she was evil!!! Far more interesting than the animal stories!!!! And I know there is way more I haven't heard. I can't wait for xmas and I shall pump him for more!!

The reason I am writing this story is to get your opinion. Did he have a right to react so strongly? Did he have a right to issue that "you or me" ultimatum? The whole time I was listening to him two things kept popping out to me. One of them was how this wasn't his first story to tell (and we had skyped quite a bit before London so lots of opportunity) and did she not have the right to go on this trip and not check with him first? So bizarre and I would love to hear your opinion!!

Coincidence??!!

At the moment I am sitting in a very narrow, lumpy, bumpy, (yet surprisingly comfy) bed, typical of all the little hotels in London. It is about four in the morning, and I am completely unable to stay up past seven at night or sleep past three in the morning. This used to be awful back in my earlier travels, but now due to internet, I quite enjoy these solitary middle of the night hours with my little lappy all lit up.

First thing I always do is check the emails. I am looking for that scary email from one of my family that is marked urgent. None comes but just not seeing it is a comfort. Next I load facebook and give it a quick scan. If one of my chillins' is on I talk to them for a wee while. Then I go back and deal with an average of approximately thirty to thirty five emails. Then I check the blogs I follow.

This morning I read Aryn's latest post. She mentioned something that made me sit up and take notice. She mentioned that whe watches episodes of Being Erica, for free, on the CBC website. Now, I am always looking for free tv episodes to watch. Thanx to the CRTC (whom I HATE) being in Canada just plain sucks. You cannot get free tv episodes of any interest or ones that would be of any significance. I am simply not into Nature Canada or David Suziki's latest guilt trip. So when she mentioned a show called Being Erica...well that sounds like something I might watch. I have never heard of the show, as I try to avoid CBC as much as possible (for political reasons I won't go into as it will turn into a horrible self indulgent offensive rant) but if it turns out to be something I would like....bonus. So I loaded up a stickie and made a note to check it out when I get home.

After completing my compy tasks, looking up useless stuff, I started to get impatient with the ultra sketchy wifi connection, I decided to shut it down, watch some tv and maybe go back to sleep.

British tv is weird. There is one channel that carries American/Canadian /British shows (as opposed to news) so I put that channel on (it was in the middle of some movie) turned it down and got settled in comfy in my lumpy bed. But...the movie was kind of interesting so I tuned in. As I watched I noticed that the main character was named....Erica. Huh!! I thought. I kept watching to the end and thoroughly enjoyed it. I managed to remember one of the cast member's names and grabbed lappy and looked it up. It was the pilot movie for.....wait for it.......Being Erica!!!!!! Wow!!!! Loved it and thanx Aryn for the heads up!! I maybe won't be in a tub of bubble after running in the rain...but I am going to enjoy it!!!

Bill and I just got back from Costco.....again.....third time this week. We don't smoke anymore. We don't drink. We don't do drugs. We don't have sex anymore. (Well...) We have almost cut out eating candy entirely. But....we go to Costco. All the time. Our personal crack. We will be sitting in our chairs, busy on our lappys, when one of us will say that magic word. "COSTCO? Do we need anything?" The other answers before the question is finished. "Sure! Ok! Yeah I think I need eggs, or milk or something. I will think of it on the way over."

Just that word COSTCO makes us a little happier, our heart beat a little faster and it gets me dressed in an otherwise slothful lazy day. Visions of long aisles of "stuff", tables of books, coolers of yummy food dance in my head. And then the vision turns into hotdogs, chicken strips, poutine, pop, hamburgers, lattes.......mmmmmmmmm. I'm in!!!

Pretty much everywhere we go in North America and Hawaii we run into Costcos. Actually, we don't exactly run into them. We hunt for them. "Its a cultural trip" we tell ourselves. Every region has region specific items in their Costco. We learn about the area by going to these different stores. I have a GPS with "COSTCO" as the number one preset button.

In Hawaii, they sell beach towels, beach chairs, beach toys, thongs, bathing suits, booze, banana bread, pineapples, macaroni and potato salad (Mixed together), raw salmon salad, poi, purple bread, fireworks, guns, size 12X Hawaiian shirts, chocolate covered macadamia nuts, mega major truck accessories. We choose to stay in condos as opposed to hotels. That way we have to go to costco to buy our food.

We were travelling through the states last year. As usual we were stopping at all the costcos we could find. In the midwest we ran out of water which, of course, necessitated a trip to the nearest Costco. I pushed the preset button on Garmin and found that we had passed one fifteen miles back. The next one was 78 miles ahead. We turned around. To this day I regret I didn't take a picture of the huge sign posted right by the entrance. It read "NO GUNS ALLOWED". Inside this particular costco we found saddles, horseshoes, ropes, saddle soap, fence posts, mini tractors, barbed wire, electric fences, screen doors, gum boots, shit shovels, chicken feeders, nipple buckets, small animal traps, big animal traps, assorted farm equipment, and definitely no sushi.

A few years ago we were on one of our trips to Saskatchewan, south through the states and back up the coast to home. This particular trip happened fairly late fall. On the way to Regina we flattened a tire (Im not telling how that happened) We put the spare on and decided to stop at Costco in Regina and get the tire fixed. It was evident the moment we entered the place that we were in what would become an extremely cold climate. Up front and centre we saw snow shovels, ice scrapers, huge bags of salt, mini hand held snow blowers, anti freeze, snow bank fencing, survival suits, fur hats and mitts, ice augers, ice pick axes, car tire chains, moon boots, snow suits, block heaters, survival kits, tiger torches, anti salt damaging coating stuff. I told Bill we had better get out of Dodge before the winter set in!

But we still get caught now and then. The other day Bill and I went down to Canadian tire and bought rope lights for outside. I scoped out a wee prelit Xmas tree. The four foot tree was 199 bucks. Crap!! Today we stopped at McD's for a free coffee. McD's is right beside Canadian Tire. I told Bill I was going to buy that tree. I want a prelit one. He suddenly remembered...they have them at Costco!! My heart started to beat a little faster. I got a little happier! Off we went. I made a beeline for the xmas trees and there it was. Seven (not four) feet tall, slim, covered with a million little lites, already decked out with pine cones and berries. And... it was 139 dollars!!! OMG!! I almost bought a piece of crap from Canadian Tire. And Bill noticed that they have three times longer rope lites for half what he paid at Canadian Tire. We just looked at each other and shook our heads in shame. "Jeez!" Bill said, "We HAVE to remember to check Costco out before we buy stuff." I just sadly nodded my head.

My Vacation Pictures

As you all know Bill and I travel. We use a combination of car rentals and cruises and cruise excursions. As we travel, I post my favourite pics on facebook so those people I am friends with can look if they want to.

But, there is one thing I have learned in all this travel. Other than the facebook format, people (with a very few exceptions) just don't want to see your pictures or hear your stories. I have watched poor Bill over the last few weeks try to tell people some of his stories and show some of his pictures...to glazed eyes and bobble head nodding or outright "Not now, I don't have time right now but later for sure" And later never comes.

This is totally ok with me and I truly get it. I am not writing this to make any of our closer peeps who may be reading this feel bad. It is just a fact, plain and simple.....other peoples' vacations are just that....other peoples' and unless you were there or going to be there..who cares? So....

When we got home, I went through all our pictures and through a very laborious process I narrowed the pictures down to four. These four pictures represent four different parts of our trip. I sent the jpeg off to PosterJack (the best picture maker in Canada) and had them enlarged and printed on canvas. They look fabulous and they are hanging front and centre in our living room. Now....when people come around, Bill will be able to tell four stories to people without their eyes going vacant and their heads bobbing up and down, up and down!!! I shall post those four here! But if you want to know where they were taken and why, well you will just have to come for coffee and ask Bill.

Great Grand Baby

Last night we had Bill's daughter Debbie's oldest son Scott to dinner. He brought his lovely wife Gisella and their 8 week old baby Joshua. What a wonderful time we had.

I roasted a six pound sirloin roast, mashed spuds, carrots and peas, green beans (so unbelievably yummy) and yorkshire puddings. For dessert I made a scrumptious apple crisp. I decided to do something new with the yorkshires. I always spray the pans with excessive amounts of pam instead of using hot fat. They turn out very well, but bland. So yesterday I clarified butter and mixed in a particularly delicious powdered beef bouillon, the only one I will use because it tastes like beef. So....I put the fat in the tins, heated them to spitting hot in the oven and added my batter and proceeded to bake. About ten minutes into the process, I glanced into the kitchen to see copious scary amounts of smoke coming out of the top of the stove, the cracks around the oven door (there actually aren't any cracks but smoke was coming out somehow, there was so much) filling up the kitchen and creeping into the rest of the house. I tore over to the kitchen, put on the fan on highest possible speed, opened the back door and hollered at Bill to open the rest of the doors and windows in this house. OH MY GOD!!!! The smoke, the little fire, and then more smoke and then a bigger fire......I needed to get these little suckers cooked just enough so I could shut the oven off. So, for the next ten minutes I alternately opened the oven door to let smoke out and flapped it towards the back door.

Then.....off went the smoke alarm. Since we have already burned one house down not so long ago the insurance people insist on heavy duty smoke alarms hooked into a monitored place somewhere that, if we don't plug in the right alarm or something, they send fire trucks. Talk about panic. I don't remember the friggin number. What the hell! I pick up the phone to call the 800 number on the alarm box to tell them not to send the trucks and....the line is dead. What??? Suddenly the phone rings right in my hand and upon answering in total confusion..a deep male voice at the other end asks what the heck is going on. So I tell him to not send trucks, I give him three options of codes that our number could possibly be (one of them must have been right) and hung up and went back to flapping and opening and flapping and opening. Long story short, the alarm went off forever and eventually I was able to turn off the oven. I left the puds in the oven and went to find the dog who had taken off at a hundred miles an hour when the alarm started.

BUT.....the puddings were the best I have ever made. They were worth all the smoke and panic and annoyed alarm people. They were absolutely delicious, crunchy on the outside, tender on the inside and more flavour than any yorkie I have ever eaten. I will have to try to figure out how to solve the problem of fat runnage.

Meanwhile, back to the baby. He was one of the most personable 8 week olds I have ever seen. He talked, gurgled, laughed, conversed back and forth with you, heavy duty eye contact...all amazing at 8 weeks. Scott was as funny as ever and Gisella was a complete sweetheart. We will be having them back over and over.

And Aryn...if you are reading this...can you email me the instructions on how to clean that oven? Thanks ever so much!

Beauty....the Great Struggle

I have two weddings coming up next year. One involves my very bestest friend ever and the other my wonderful amazing sister. These two women are intelligent, interesting, active, wise and............skinny. Oh, I can hear them now, "no I'm not. I still have five pounds to lose." " No I'm not. I still have a tummy roll when I sit down." Ok ladies. Try having 140 pounds to lose and a tummy roll that stops my heart when I bend over. You are skinny, by my standards and pretty much everyone elses' too.

I know this may sound really high school, but they are going to look smokin' hot at the weddings. And I am not. If I am sounding like a whiny little victim, its because for the next few minutes I AM going to be a whiny little victim!!! So EXCUSE me for a moment while I VENT!!

I have attempted to buy dresses in the past, at least my fat past, not my way back skinny past. And as any realistic large lady will tell you, we just don't do dresses well. No matter what the colour, pattern, no pattern, long, short, sleeves, no sleeves....you still end up looking like a walking table cloth...and not a pretty one. And the dresses available to us, especially here in Canada, are disgraceful ugly unwearable pieces of crap.

A few years ago I had an event to attend, a dressy one. Of course, I didn't have anything to wear. A dress was the only option. I made the unwise decision to go to Walmart first. My younger daughters had shopped there recently and had purchased really pretty colourful sundresses. Now I know that the fat lady designers do not do pretty or colourful but what the heck!! I decided to at least take a look. After spending a few minutes hunting up and down the fat lady section, I discovered they only had one rack of dresses and only one design. So I pull out the 3X hold it up and DEAR JESUS!!!! It was UGLY. Insultingly fugly!! It had a navy blue (not chic black) background, elastic waist, short sleeves with a weird sporadic pattern in white that got closer and closer together as it descended, and ended up in a row of pineapples at the bottom. Pineapples. Why? I was tempted to pay the 25 bucks to buy it, put it on on the night of the event and see if anyone else shared my view of this piece of crap. But I was afraid they would tell me I looked nice.

I have tried many dresses over the years and no matter what type or colour, I end up looking like a washer woman. This is the one style of garment that makes my ass look big...the only part of me that isn't really really big. So I decide to try black dress pants with a pretty sparkly top. But the only pants I can find in these flipping stores are stovepipe wide at the top and at the bottom. And when I pull them up so the crotch is at...well ummmm...my crotch, the waist is literally under my armpits. And I just don't need the waistband of my pants fighting my bra for space. So, the only option left is a pretty broomstick skirt with a tasteful tank top and jacket. But.....no matter how big or small or short or long, the hem of the skirt hikes way up at the back and way down at the front. So, twisting around in front of the floor length mirror i adjust the waist band up down over around until the hem is all even. But now the waist band is under my fat roll in front, in my right armpit, halfway down my bum...and within ten steps, it has all snapped back and its hiked way up in back and falling down in front. So no skirt.

What I really need and want is a spectacular long gown that is so amazing that no one will notice me and my hugeness. So....I had a fantastic idea. TRANNY DRESSES!!! Transvestites wear fabulous glamourous gowns and they are big people. A tranny dress would fit me AND be so spectacular one wouldn't notice grande moi!! In fact I know where a tranny store is right down town on east Hastings! Yes. I looked up some samples online and this site http://www.newyorkdress.com/Prom_Dresses.html was recommended on a tranny site because the gowns are fabulous and come in large sizes. Yipppppeeee!!! Problem solved and I will try my very best to not tell anyone that I am wearing a tranny dress...but I can't promise.

My wonderful daughter and her lovely Friend!

What a truly wonderful treat....to be feted and dined by your own child! I never dreamt, all those many years ago, that my lively, bouncy little black eyed sprite would one day be cooking me a delicious gourmet dinner, served up right in her cozy warm and beautiful home.

As a mother,we measure our successes by where our children are at any given moment in their lives. And last night this is what I saw.........my daughter as a beautiful healthy woman, funny, intelligent, able to make the right decisions for herself, forgiving, loving, fun and an amazing cook! When I look at her, I know I am a success.

Her beautiful friend Heather, with the most amazing brown eyes, was there too. More affirmation to me that I succeeded with Aryn. Boy, does she know how to pick friends. Heather was charming and fun and I came away from her with greater knowledge and understanding of certain things we discussed. It is a gift when you meet someone that can leave you wiser than you were a few minutes before.

We had a fourth at the table as well. What can I say? Just check out the pictures.

Dinner was incredible. I can honestly say that the scallops Aryn served were probably the best food I have eaten. It was beyond tasty and perfectly executed. The salmon she made puts mine to shame and "potato risotto"? It was amazing! Heather, bless her. brought the most delicious chocolate torte with a raspberry coulees on top. MMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!Totally yummy!!!

All in all a most successful lovely evening..to be repeated I hope!!

Hair

It was inevitable....eventually I would write a little thing about my hair. Unfortunately, my hair has kind of dictated my life, my self image, my identity, how people judge me, the only attention I get, what I will not do on rainy days, my swimming activities or lack of them, the necessity to check out seat to roof height on rental cars....before renting it, what kind of headboard I will have, where I sit in concerts, what day of the week I will totally give up to wash my hair, make runs to the states for hair product I can't get here, cross the street so I don't have to walk under low lying branches, my ability to go from a wonderful awesome compliment to totally humiliating ridicule, etc.....

We rented a car in Paris a couple of months ago. It was the assyest most awful car we have ever driven. Being a tallish looking Peugeot, we felt that both of us would fit comfortably. Now, I could write a really long awful diatribe about that miserable machine we rented, but I won't. There were so many things that were stupid and ridiculous about it and I don't wish to revisit the misery. So, that being said, I am going to mention one part. That would be the part about where I sat. My first hint that there may be trouble was....I couldn't get in. Neither could Bill. We tried front first, ass first, knees and hunched body first, shoulder head body in that order....nothing worked. So then we looked for the seat adjuster handles. Whoever was in it last must have been borderline midgets. When we finally located the handle, we adjusted the seat back as far as possible. Even then we had to lay the back part flat, get in then pull the back part up. So in we get. The seat was so high my feet dangled and my head had to tip right over into a ninety degree angle. So back to the buttons and handles and pushing and pulling. Finally the seat was back as far as possible and as low as it would go. Alrighty then. I turned to Bill to say Okey dokey this is ok and OW!! Something yanked a wee piece of my hair...right out of my head. What the hell? Right where my head naturally sits is a coat hook handelly thingy. And it had hold of my hair. So I take a few minutes and unhook and untangle. So Ok .. I can try to keep my head cocked a little to the side, annoying but doable. Next thing I notice is something is pulling little pieces right from the top of my head. I look up. The roof is covered with a type of texture that not only attracted my hair, but latched onto strands and yanked them. Ok, I can slide down and slouch. I ended up going all over Europe slumped down in my seat with my head cocked over a few degrees...and wasn't that frickin fun!

Living where I do means that eventually you will be walking in deluging rain. I am pretty adept at avoiding this, but, inevitably you will get caught. Now, in my case, not only is this a disastrous catastrophe, but a very painful one. And that is why I never ever walk in the rain...except by unexpected misfortune. To control my hair I have to use product, lots of product. I use industrial strength mousse or gel and then solder it with liquid cement hairspray.

The other day Bill and I went down to Starbucks (not far) for coffee. Feeling frisky, I told him I was going to walk home, not something I opt to do very often. It was pretty gray out but not rainy and the temperature was exactly what I like. So off I set. About two blocks from home it started to sprinkle. OMG!!! Then it moved on to rain and finally a downpour. Being 200 plus pounds, running is not an option. So I gave up and decided I would just let it happen, enjoy the rainy walk and wash my hair when I got home. It didn't take long for the hair to get soaked and the water to start running down my neck, my ears, my face, my eyes....oh my god....my eyes! my eyes! my eyes! All that product turned into a toxic watery stream that followed the frown furrows on my forehead and straight into my eyeballs. And it burned like a hot poker had been poked into them. I had no choice but to take off my glasses (which I couldn't see out of anyway) and shut my eyes. I inched my way cautiously home, hands outstretched in a most Helen Kellerish manner. I made it, but not very happily.

The other night I had gone to bed early. I was so tired and was off to sleep in no time. Sometime in the night I rolled over to un-numb the side I had been sleeping on and I was suddenly hit with a searing terrible sudden burning pain from the top of my head and my head was yanked back so hard I think I almost broke my neck. I immediately collapsed on my pillow and froze to the spot. What the hell just happened? I thought for a brief moment I had had an aneurysm. The violence of it and the pain was shocking. I gingerly put my hand up to investigate. I guess my ponytail had hooked onto a piece of the wrought iron headboard and when I heaved myself, with all my hefty heft, over, my hair, thus my head, stayed right where it was. When you are more asleep than awake, that kind of pain just wakes you right up...for hours.

But...the most humiliating hair moment I have ever had, was at the hairdressers a few years ago. I had decided to go to an expensive upscale place that boasted a computer imaging appointment before you moved to the spa area to have your appointment decisions executed. Righto...I was ready for a change.

I figured I didn't belong the minute I walked in. Everyone, clients and employees,were unfairly beautiful and flawless and dressed in Prada. Here I was, hair from hell and dressed in fleece and walmart running shoes. Oh well, money is money I think to myself. I was shown rather rapidly to a change room and told to put on the gown they gave me and to remove my shirt. That gown would not have covered my right thigh. I kind of laughed and said "No no I will just keep my jack shirt on thanks." So she kind of smiled and then took me over to a booth with a computer. Long story short and after many attempts to try to make me look better with a different haircut, it was decided that my hair needed to stay right the way it was and today we would just wash it for me. (I think they felt like they had to do SOMETHING for the 75 bucks). So over to the lovely mirrored area and beautiful leather chair. It took her five minutes to get my elastic holding up my hair out. Finally, she gets out a hairpick and gets to work. Now, being sorely out of place, being way too fat for their lovely tiny gowns, not having the kind of face and hair that can be changed to improve me are all embarrassing moments. But what followed was truly humiliating. First, as she worked away, she suddenly stopped, pulled at my hair and pulled out a short Ikea pencil. Oh Lord. I stuttered a rather short excuse- (thats where I put pencils when I need them...it must have slipped). She started to work away again and again she stopped, pulled at my hair and pulled out an earring. Jeez, I told her I had been looking for that for a few days now. She started to work away again. This time she not only stopped but let out a little squeal and called over one of the male hairdressers. I am embarrassed to report that they pulled out a fuzzy caterpillar. I had been in the bushes hauling out garbage on the corner of our property just before going down to the hairdressers. I tried to explain but I don't think my explanation made any difference. I just got up off the chair, dropped a fifty on the counter and walked out.

The only reason I haven't shaved my head is because I only have to do my hair once a week right now and with short hair I would have to do it everyday. Nuff said.

quick follow up

So, yesterday Monte finally got up and was sitting on the couch. So I loaded my website and I had managed to get a picture of myself on the first page and it looks really good! But I still needed to figure out how to go through firefox without firefox being my default home page. So, ever so causually, I call Monte over and say "I made my website (keep in mind I have asked this kid at least a thousand times to make me a simple website) I am just having a problem with opening it in firefox. How would I do that?" So he saunters over, sort of looks, takes a huge double take, bends down and looks again, ( also keep in mind that when I actually do ask him anything to do with the computer, he will answer with total sarcasm, derision and condescending nastiness) and says "WHAT??? WHAT THE HELL????BUT...BUT...BUT WHAT??? HOW DID YOU DO THAT??? HOW? HOW? BUT...I DON'T GET IT!!!! HOW DID YOU DO THAT?? WHAT (some technical word I don't know) DID YOU USE?? GIVE ME THAT!! I WANT TO SEE!!! HOW DID YOU DO THAT? HOLY CRAP!!! and so on and so on. I had my moment afterall and he was too shocked to give me attitude...he just showed me what to do. I am happy.

WEBSITE!!!!

I am sitting here, not that early but it feels like it. Outside is dark and grey and the sky is dirty. I think this is a good day to create my website. I have asked various male children who are in the know and much much smarter than me in all things compy, but after the last hour I now understand why it just wasn't happening. Creating websites for older (read dumber) relatives is just plain annoying. I am really really annoyed and I AM that older dumber relative. But....I really want a website and I am a strong believer in doing things for one self. So, about an hour ago, as I was opening my email I see an ad coming from a website I had ordered business cards from. "Get a Website" it said. "really easy to start and maintain....you don't need any computer skills, as easy as one two three, one month free, blah blah blah" So there it was...that little button that says "Start Now". Easy, free month, no skills needed,...okey dokey I'm going to do it!! And I pushed the button.

My first initial impression was that this was going to be a breeze. There were four steps to creating this website. They already had the template/pattern set up to match the design I had chosen for the business cards. I liked it! So CLICK..button two. Now I had to choose a "domain name" What?? whats a domain? Would that involve my email address? or my computer name? or my name? What the hell is a domain name? Why do computer people think that we just automatically know these things? They said "NO computer skills necessary" and knowing what "domain name" means needs skills. So I temporarily left the site and wikkied it. I am still not sure but I think it is the name of the website that I want. So back I go to where I am on step two...and its gone. What?? Where did it go? So I went back to mail, clicked on the ad, clicked Start Now again and started over. I decided to move my web search page out of the way. And there was my page I had been working on, hiding behind the wikki page. Jeez!! So I went back to the first one and typed in Purpleroom.com in domain name. Up popped a little box that says purpleroom.com is not available. Ok so I tried about four thousand variations that I hoped I would remember until it finally accepted one of them. On to step three. Payment. That part was easy, of course. Final step was recieving the conformation in the email. It came. Yay!!!! Now I want to start building the site, changing the text, adding pictures, start a travel blog (maybe) etc... so I clicked on the edit website button.

And up popped one of those boxes again. This time it says that either explorer microsoft (I have a mac) or firefox is needed to see this website or work on it. What?? Whats wrong with safari? CRAP!! So back to the web and I went to Firefox's site and installed firefox. I even managed to put the icon in the dock (see? I am not totally dumb) and tested it out. So back I go and I click on edit website and I was taken straight to my new website. It looked fantastic. How exciting. So I click on the next edit button and up pops another little box. Again it is telling me that I need to use firefox. What the hell? So I then shut down everything, went to firefox, typed in my "domain name url or whatever the hell its called" in the address bar and VOILA!!! there it was. Again I clicked the edit button and changed what the website words were and wrote a bunch of stuff and clicked edit. Up pops a box again and says that I need to use explorer or firefox. Ok, I tried forty more things until I wanted to throw the lappy through the window.

This is so frustrating. I was savouring that smug moment when I could ever so casually send a link to my chillins and when they incredulously asked "Wow!! I was going to do that for you. Who did you get to do it for you?" I was going to nonchalantly answer, "Oh I just did it myself. I know you're really busy." But NO!! Now I have to ask one of them what the friggin hell is wrong with the friggin thing and why the hell won't it work when I even downloaded firefox. GOD!!! TTYL if I still have a laptop. Oh, and I will post a link if I ever get the stupid thing to work.

DO NOT GET THERAPY !!!

Why? you might ask. Therapy is good isn't it? Having a councillor help guide you can only be a positive in your life I would think. Having a life coach help you moderate yourself can only be a good thing. Maybe.

But heres the thing. Last year around this time I started weekly sessions with a Life Coach, or LC as I call him here. He is truly an insightful addition to my life as I have blogged about before. I have truly accomplished more in the last year than I ever thought I needed to do. But.......as soon as you start to work with one of these learned peoples, everything becomes either your fault or your responsibility to fix. I shall give a few examples of this phenomenon that I have encountered over the last year.

As I have mentioned in this blog on numerous occasions, my men in my house (and I only have men) do not clean, themselves or their spaces or the communal space. My husband uses the dining room table as an office desk. Every now and then, like once every six months, I ask him to clean it off because we have company coming. Well...according to him that is "nagging" and "You are never happy". My immediate response, and fair one I think, is "WHAT THE HELL!!! I ASK ONCE IN A BLUE MOON TO GET YOUR CRAP OFF THE TABLE AND YOU HAVE A WHINY "POOR ME" FIT. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU? HOW THE HELL IS THAT NAGGING?" And so on and so on until we are yelling so loud the neighbours can hear. All because I asked him to clean off the table. So, feeling quite justified and right about all this, I bring it up with LC. I don't like the fighting and Bill just makes it impossible not to. But...no no no, apparently not. Apparently I have made a "demand" and apparently, people do not respond to "demands" and apparently one must find cooperating words, used in a suitable co operating voice to obtain "favours" from others. WHAT???? Clean the damned frigging table off, I need to set the damned thing for freakin' dinner!!!! I shouldn't even have to ask! But....no no no. I need to completely change my tone of voice, carefully choose my words and be grateful and thankful for his co operation.

Bill is going deaf. This is something that happens at 77 years old. He isn't really bad but he can't hear very well. In his bedside drawer is a prescription for hearing aids. He will NOT get it filled. No reason. He just simply refuses. So, every single thing I say to him, has to be repeated at least once if not twice and maybe even three times. No matter where I am or how I have raised my voice and enunciated clearly, he always always responds with "Huh?" OMG!! It is driving me crazy. So now when he has done this for the fortieth time in one morning I yell "You need hearing aids!! When are you going to go get them? What the hell is wrong with you? I am not going to yell or repeat crap for you anymore...not til you get those stupid hearing aids." Reasonable I think. But because this has become a daily battle I bring it up with LC to seek solutions....like how can I make Bill get those hearing aids. But....no no no, again I am wrong. I must look at what Bill is saying about himself. I must try to understand what is making Bill fearful. I must accommodate Bill's natural anxiety about aging and weaknesses and new things and life changes and blah blah blah. I must find empathy and compassion within myself and be patient and caring and use a soothing calming voice (loud enough for him to hear of course) and wait for him to come to terms with the process. WHAT??? I am freakin' hoarse from yelling and truly mad that I never get heard the first two or three repetitions. This is just not right. What about him? Why can't he be the one to fix this?

A few months back we went shopping at Costco. On this particular trip he purchased a rather expensive wedge of smelly cheese. Upon arrival at home, we brought in the groceries and I put them away, including the smelly cheese, which I put on the cheese shelf in the fridge. Later I was sitting at my lappy working away when Bill passed purple room door on his way to the bedroom. I noticed him carrying something in his hand. Upon closer inspection I noticed it was the cheese. What?? What was he doing with the cheese in the bedroom. So seeing as how it is my bedroom as well, I followed him to find him bent over his bedside table rummaging around in the bottom drawer. "What are you doing? " i ask, a reasonable question I think. "I'm putting the cheese in here." "For the Love of God why?" I ask incredulously, again a most reasonable request. "This is expensive cheese and I don't want people (meaning Monte cuz I don't eat the stuff) just eating it up and using it for cooking and stuff." Ok. WTF. Stinky cheese in MY bedroom. Squirrelling. Hoarding. Crazy. "OH FOR CHRIST SAKE BILL. YOU ARE THE STINGIEST MOST OVER REACTING SELFISH PERSON I HAVE EVER MET. GET THAT FRIGGIN CHEESE OUT OF MY BEDROOM. WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU????" And in complete faith that NOW LC will have to agree with me and help me find a solution, I tell him. But, no no no.....I have to understand that Bill is suffering from control issues. Bill is feeling like he doesn't get to make any of the decisions in this house. Bill feels helpless against the aging process. Bill is feeling small and in need of controlling one little aspect of his life. The cheese. I need to back off and let him have his little bit of authority and control. And that stupid cheese stunk up my bedroom for the next two weeks.

The real question in my mind is this. What if Bill had the same life coach as me. What if I wasn't the one being coached. What if Bill brought up the same issues. Would HE be told to be the compassionate understanding patient "change who you are" person? I think.....likely.

turkey aftermath

So, here I sit. It is four thirty the day after the dinner. I am watching Judge Judy, sitting in my same old pjs, my feet on a once again dirty crumby floor. My table is no longer covered with accounting books, but covered with the detritus of a delicious dessert, post turkey dinner. My kitchen is a holy hell mess. Not from dinner (thank you kids) but from the constant and continuous foraging that has occurred since. I did one thing today. I denuded two turkey carcasses, have a soup on the boil and created a shepherds pie from other left overs. Ahhhhh.....it feels like Christmas. That being said...let me tell you a little story..

Several years ago, when my step dad (whom we all had a problem with) was still alive, we all had the brilliant idea that we should have a warm and fuzzy christmas at our house. My sister and her husband and three girls, my mother and her significant other, all my kids etc... were to come for a couple of days and a wonderful christmas would be had by all. So Aryn and I swung into action. First the ideas (like wonderful personal little goodie bags at each place at table, a six foot tall stocking to be stuffed with many wrapped presents for my Mom and Bob, a tacky gift party etc....), then the lists, then the shopping, then the wrapping, then the cooking, then the house cleaning, then the arrival of all things relative. If I remember correctly we had a talent show that we had all practised for (on our piano). Some of us went down to Stanley park and rode the Christmas train. We had several brisk lovely cold christmas light walks in our neighbourhood. Many board games were played. You get the picture I am sure. It was almost Norman Rockwellish.

We pulled out the table to its fullest, added the card tables, hauled in the good old plastic deck chairs, layed out two or three unmatching table cloths (the ugly one at the kids end incorporating a couple of card tables), got out the christmas dishes supplemented with kitchen dishes, christmas crackers placed at each setting, goodie bags used as place name cards, bowls and platters and dishes heaped with steaming turkey dinner food laid out......ahhhhhh christmas at its finest.

But....all these realtives all together for long periods of time can be a little daunting too. We were all on our best behaviour, except for the stepdad, who ended up creating a really loud disturbing totally ridiculous scene. This then really upset our mother which in turn upset my sister and myself which then upset our husbands which then upset those kids that were actually paying attention. But, being the well bred people we are, we quickly sucked it up, put a smile on our faces and continued on.

Later in the kitchen, nearing the end of an all involved clean up, I got out the giant soup pot and looked for the turkey carcass. It was gone. The roaster was washed and put away. A thorough inspection of the fridge did not produce a turkey carcass. A look in the freezer showed it wasn't there. So I asked. And a certain brother in law said casually, "I threw it out." WHAT??? What the hell, I think I hollared too loud. He responded that there wasn't much left on the bones. I then went to the garbage, took a look, hauled it out, rinsed it off and plopped it into the soup pot and said" I can make ten meals out of whats left on this" Again, I think I didn't use a really good inside voice. He scoffed and replied"Ten meals? Yeah right." and stomped out of the kitchen. Over the next two hours (we had eaten really early in the day) I made the biggest most delicious pot of soup ever.

The next morning they were all getting ready to drive back to Kamloops. I had put the soup back on the stove to continue to simmer. J, one of the daughters dished herself up a healthy bowl and proceeded to eat it. Her mother, using not so subtle face signals, indicated that she shouldn't eat it. (I think out of support for her poor husband as opposed to health concerns) J then announced in a loud voice, totally missing her mothers point, "Why? Its been boiled. This is really good. Can I have some more Garbage Soup please Auntie H?" To this day we call turkey soup Garbage Soup. Ahhhhhh, Christmas, family get togethers and new traditions. We are all doing it again this year, but at my sisters. I don't think I will throw out their turkey though!

turkey dinner

The other day, as I sat at my son's kitchen table, he made a statement that resonated with me. He was telling me how he works much better when he has a deadline and is late getting started on the project and is under huge pressure. Well, I do believe that I am much the same.

Tonite I have the family and a couple of Monte's friends coming for a turkey dinner. There will be ten at table.. I am, at the moment of eleven in the morning sitting in my pj's at this computer. Under my feet is a huge pile dirt and crumbs, the table is covered with Bill's accounting books, the kitchen is a holy hell mess, the bathroom is disgusting, the two turkeys are not stuffed, (although I did make the stuffing), furniture isn't moved, none of the cook ahead food is cooked...you get the picture.

So I have now set a dead line of twelve. I shall swing into action, stuff turkeys, clean bathrooms, move furniture, set table and start cooking in Earnest. If I had done this yesterday I would have to be redoing at least half of it!!

I shall take some pictures and post them below. Remember to always check the bottom of the page here to see pics. TTYL

Oh Lord, there is a reason your eggs dry up at 40!

I just can't do it anymore. Plain and simple. Little three year old boys can defeat me. True, if I lost one hundred pounds, or did a few hours a week in the gym it might help. But I doubt it. And this is why.....

Bill and I decided to take F to Nanaimo for the day. It was suggested that we take him to Jumping Jiminy's. Ok, now I know I am not the youngest chicken on the block, but an indoor playground? That charges eight bucks a kid to play in it? Whats wrong with Macdonalds play area, I ask. Oh well, if it makes the kid happy, why not?

We left for what should have been a one hour drive. The first hint that this day was not going to go quite as planned was a big loud announcement from the car seat in the back "Hey Gma, I can undo this!" I look to see that he had undone a vital part of his seatbelt system. And when I say system I mean system. Its a four part process, each one more difficult than the last. You need Hercules hands to complete it while wedging yourself between the back of the front seat and the back seat, one knee on the back floor and one awkwardly cranked at a ninety degree angle upwards and back. Leaning on forearms and elbows, you have only your wrists left for leverage to get the parts into the proper parts and snapped shut. Its hard when you are young and strong. Put on thirty years and a hundred pounds and give it a try. Right. And he got part of it open. JEEEEEZ!!!! So we pull the truck over, I climb out, wedge into the back, snap it all together, unwedge and get back into the front, do up my own belt and off we go. "Gma.....I did it again!!!" (so proud of himself). JEEEEZ!!!! This time the rebuckling was accompanied with a lecture that involved words like "no" "danger" "angry" "home" "NO JUMPING JIMINY"S!!!!!"

Upon arrival, we entered the facility, handed over money, put on wrist bracelets (they couldn't get one to fit Gpa) , removed shoes, (ten minute process for Gpa) and entered the hallowed ground. We were met with a dingy, worn carpeted giant room that had several play stations and cafe tables spread about. F immediately disappeared into a monstrous three story high play system. It involved long tunnel slides, giant planet shaped spheres to jump in, ladders and nets and ropes and narrow little alley ways that went straight up in the air. That big huge system sucked that kid up and ate him before we could blink an eye. And we didn't see him again for half an hour. He could have been killed in there and we wouldn't have known it.

Eventually he surfaced long enough to ask for food. So.....on the sticky menu placed on the table, the choices were..mac and cheese, hot dog, burger, fairy bread (mushy white bread spread with canned icing and covered with sprinkles), pudding cups...well you get the idea. Judging by the smell permeating from him, it was time to go anyway. Like the bad Gma I am, I had totally forgotten to bring in his diapers. So with promises of Sushi (his fave), we went out to the truck in the parking lot. I told Bill that he had to be changed first.

Now, this little guy is turning three on Hallowe'en. He is a boy. Being a boy, he is not trained and still in diapers, but he is doing adult size business in the britches. Need I say more. There was no room on the back seat to lay him down and he outright refused to lay down on the parking lot. His mom had told me she changes him standing up. Ok. I am all for that.

So, off with the shoes, off with the pants, undo the diaper, and plop....it all went to hell right there. By the time I was through he needed his entire legs and backside washed, he needed clean socks and the truck seat needed shampooing. The only one enjoying it was Molly, our grotty little pom.

Off to Costco. We worked through our list and taste tested everything along the way. We found the sushi and looked at the toys and books. Generally, we had a lot of fun. I have to admit though, I was beginning to flag a little. We went to the eating area and Bill bought fries (another fave of F's), coke zero and a hot dog. F had his sushi but wanted fries. Bill had put beef gravy all over them. Try to explain to a three year vegetarian why he can't have one of Gpa's fries. It didn't go well. But he ate all his sushi, drank some pop (our bad) and we left happy.

We made a stop at Walmart to buy him his birthday present. He picked out an excavator and a bulldozer. Good choices! So, he was dying to play with them and the dogs were dying for a wee run. As we drove along the freeway, I spotted a spot we could pull off, far enough from the road to be safe. Poor F had to play on a paved road, beside a hill of riprap rocks, not the best local but oh well! Within two minutes, F let out a howl and loud noises of displeasure. The treads on his cat had come off. So I put them back on, again and again and again and again and again. OMG!!!! I forgot that you have to check out every single thing you buy for defects like this. Kill me now......

Eventually we made it home with a sleeping little boy and two exhausted grandparents. A good day was had by all!!!

email

hey there, I figured it out and am back to my normal email address.

Tonite we arrive in Vienna and after dinner we are going to a concert of Mozart etc.  We chose our shore excursions today and on Thursday we and four others we befriended, are going in a private van to see Hitler's tea house the "Eagle's Nest".  Google it and you will see how amazing that will be.  We also are taking a tour to Salzburg where the Sound of Music was made.

The Danube is beautiful and it is so cool to have the river flowing past our window so close.  I shall send pics with the next email.  TTYL  hp

IT HAS TO BE DAMN DIRTY BEFORE I WILL CLEAN IT!!!

I was chatting with Aryn the other day about cleaning. We won't clean our fridges until it will be very noticeable that the gunk is gone and so is that awful unidentifiable smell! We don't vacuum until we can HEAR the chunky dirt going up. We are the types that don't wash the floor until we are quite literally sticking to it first and leaving footprints. We don't clean the oven until the door isn't shutting. We don't clean the toaster until after the fire. We may even use a towel that has been on the floor for a while. Mirrors get cleaned when its an important evening out and we actually have to check ourselves out to make sure our pants are on the right way. Well you get the point. Those smells, noises and sticky messes are very satisfying to clean. So, I can honestly say I have had a few very satisfying days lately!

I am now officially packed and suitcases weighed. We are allowed fifty pounds. One is 48.3 lbs and the other 48.6. Anything else will have to be shoved into our hand luggage. I did pack a flatable suitcase in the bottom of bill's suitcase just in case. Its cheaper to pay for an extra bag than extra poundage. We are going to fill it with paprika on the trip home!

My next entry will probably be from the river boat. I am going to pretend Wed isn't going to happen. I hate flying. I shall post some pics of Budapest! TTYL

IT HAS TO BE DAMN DIRTY BEFORE I WILL CLEAN IT!!!

test

NOW I AM GOING TO TEST AND SEE IF THIS WILL ACTUALLY SHOW UP AS WELL. THIS IS TAOS MANY YEARS AGO THE LAST TIME WE WENT THERE.

testing a new thingy

I am testing to see if this will actually show up on my blog. If it does then I shall be able to blog whilst I am away. yay!!!!!

ipadness

Before the last trip, I ordered a beautiful, all the bells and whistles, (in fact so many I accidently ordered a keyless keyboard) beautiful ipad. It seemed to take forever to arrive, but, finally arrive it did.

I made arrangements for Kevin to have the ipad while we were in Shanghai. He would sync it with the lappy I was not taking and get me some cool apps and set up the ireader. So, off to Courtenay and I left it with him.

In great anticipation we picked it up yesterday. He showed me all the cool stuff and some little helpful tricks. Yayyyyy!!! My main goal with this puppy is to make it not necessary to carry my heavy lappy on trips. This little critter is so much more practical and easy. If its really good, we will get Bill one as well.

So this morning I got up really early and decided that I would do all morning compy things on this new thing. Firstly, it was dying. So I hauled out the cords and keyboards etc...and hooked it up to my laptop to charge it. It wouldn't charge. What the heck?? Upon investigation I see that the lovely sleek expensive cover I bought keeps the slot where it sits in the keyboard dock too high. It will not connect to the keyboard if I use that cover. Crap!!!! Ok I won't be using this cover.

I boot up the Sun to read as I do each morning. I actually don't read the sun first, I read the Province. But....on ipad it puts the whole paper in such a form that you can't just click on The Province...in fact I can't find it anywhere. And the paper isn't by the page like on my lappy it. It has the artlcles listed and I can't tell what page its on and there aren't any buttons to push to email the article. Ok. I won't be using this to read the paper.

Alright....next on my list facebook. After figuring out that you can't see anywhere that it is loading, and poking the screen over and over, a box popped up that told me to knock it off. Ooops!!! Finally I was looking the facebook home wall. so far so good. As I scroll down, I see someone posted a few pictures I would like to see. Tap tap. Tap tap. TAP TAP!!!! Finally!! So I look at six or seven pictures and now I try to go back to the home page. Nope. There is simply nowhere to simply go back to home page. I end up having to go right out and back into facebook. Ok, I won't be using this to surf Facebook.

I took some pretty cool pictures yesterday of my grandson. I even loaded them onto the ipad really fast and easily. So now I think I will email them to a few people. So, after a half hour of screwing around, going to google to read all things ipad, I finally figure out that you can only mail five pictures at once, you can't make them smaller and it takes about five minutes to actually send once you hit the send button. So I won't be using this thing to send photos home on our trips.

Now I am curious. Kevin put a bunch of really cool tv shows on my external harddrive to watch while we are on our trip. So I get it out and get it plugged in and start looking on the ipad for a usb port. It doesn't have one. No tv shows on the ipad.
Ok I won't be using the ipad for watching anything.

I have discovered though that it plays all my music library and plays a mean scrabble game. Also, if you can figure it out, you can read books on it. Yeah Right one thousand dollars and it plays music. Shoulda done more research. My bad!!

fat lady store vent, no its an event turned into vent

Ok I can write this freely because no one 'cept my daughter is reading this and she will surely forgive me. The subject today is the FAT LADY STORE.

I went down to the FLS today to see if there were any summerish and nicish shirts on sale. I know better than to try to buy pants, there just aren't any that fit me (Aryn can vouch for this for me.... can't you?) So I get Bill to drop me off whilst he goes off to Starbucks for coffee. In I swoop and today it is busy in there. It isn't usually. I like it when it is busy cuz I can scope out what stuff looks like on other fat broads like me.

But today!! Oh Lord in Heaven!! I couldn't believe what I was looking at. As I swung jauntily through the door I did notice there were more people than usual. I didn't really start to notice the difference in todays shoppers right away. As I started around my usual route ... first to the left along the side wall, then zig zag backt through the middle then do the far wall etc.... it began to enter my psychy that the women in the store today were larger than usual, in fact they were a whole lot larger....in fact that were huge....over 500 pound huge!! What the heck? I say to my self. So, I started to look in earnest. Holy Hannah!! As I gazed around I began to feel smaller and smaller and smaller and smugger and smugger and smugger. Now, it isn't very often a fatty like me gets to feel small and smug. I began to notice the side glances my way, at my hair, my shorts then my legs ... So I couldn't help myself. I started to sashay and swoop just a little. Then I found my self holding up small (by comparison to what they had to try on) cute little shirts from the smaller trendy side of the store. Then I swung these gorgeous little numbers (none of which would fit me, they do have a few smaller clothes that I can't wear ) up into my arms and strutted over through the ladies to the dressing rooms. I took notice of the women as I went.

Honestly, they were so fat they were mishapen. There butts were so big they could only wear stretchy stuff. Their boobs were sagging and penduous, their stomachs hung down over there thighs. And makeup!! What the hell was that about. It became obvious that these women had all come together and knew each other and I felt they must some how some way belong to some kind of weird club for the really fat. So I slowed down and started to eavesdrop to see if I could pick up any hints. As soon as I did that something else immediately made itself obvious. They sounded funny. I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Now I felt like I had walked into a strange and unrecognized world. This is MY store, those ladies that work there are MY people that help me, these big odd women just didn't belong here. i was beginning to get creeped out.

Well I did pick up a few things that would fit and dashed off to an empty change room. The stuff fit, looked good, was cheap so off the register. I just arrived at the counter seconds before a really large woman with fire engine red hair and a load of red iipstick. She stood by patiently waiting. At the end of my transaction, the saleslady handed me a promotion coupon for the end of August. I handed it back saying I would not be in town. She said pass it on to someone. Suddenly this large lady in waiting came to life and said "Yes, they are a truly good deal. I wish we lived here. I would, like, totally come back and use it!!" HOLD ON!!!! Her voice! Her chin!! Her Adam's Apple!! Her wasnt a her at all. Her was a he. All the hers were hes. OMG!!! They were men. Every last one of them. Cross dressing, really really fat, weird, MEN!!! I was transfixed. I had to make myself leave or risk making a spectacle of myself.

I still can't believe what I saw. I wonder if their wives know? I would truly resent having a husband that could wear my clothes!!! They had better not be there when I go back, thats all I can say.

things you come home to- a Purple Room Vent

I have an amazing and wonderful family. Each and every one of my kids and husband is exactly the person I love them to be.
That being said.......I have a family that never ever picks things up, puts things right, puts things away or just randomly does a kind act for the household good. I shall give some examples and keep in mind that every time I come across these little things I am thinking about my sister's family or my best friend's family. This just wouldn't happen in their homes. It just simply wouldn't.

I went out the front door to get the mail yesterday. Lying over under the edge of th house was a big fat orange. An orange. Why? I ask. Why would an orange be just lying there under the edge of the house? The only way it could have ended up there was when the groceries were set at the front door when I went shopping, three days before we left for Shanghai. That is a full two weeks that orange has been laying there. And I know as sure as I am sitting here, that ten years from now it will still be there, or at least the dried dna of it would be. Would this happen in Kathy's house? Would this happen in Cookie's house? I think not!!

The fridge.....OMG!!! Today I took a few minutes to take some things out. This is what I removed....two ziplock bags of runny potatoe salad from Monte's party two days before we left for SH. Soggy, melting runny cucumbers. A half full jar of left over sangria. A styrofoam container with withered dried up pieces of duck. A ziplock bag of something so bad I am not sure what it was (I think it was coleslaw from the party). Old packages of sandwich meat, green sandwich meat. Two containers I wouldn't even open. Would this happen in Kathy's house? In Cookie's house? Hmmmm mmmmmm nope.

Over by the toaster was a bread bag with completely green moldy hot dog buns. Under the couch were three socks, not matching and not clean. There was a bottle cap tucked down in the crease of the leather divider of the coffee table. There was a vase of very dead flowers dropping their stuff all over the buffet. Would this happen in THEIR house? NO IT WOULDN'T!!!

Ok I have vented and I feel better. Plus now that I have done all that....the house is cleaner! And I have always spouted the house rule, "IF IT BOTHERS YOU, DON'T COMPLAIN, GET OFF YOUR DUFF AND YOU DO IT!!" And that is just what I did.

home again home again jiggity jig!!!

I will not hold myself responsible for what I write. I am so jetlagged its stupid!!

What an amazing trip Shanghai was. Immersing oneself in another totally different culture, even for only a couple of weeks, is such an eye opener. You come home different and likely very grateful for what you have here.

Only this time we had to come home to one less doggie. Our old Homer had to be put down (thank you Aryn and Andrew). We miss him terribly. He was such a humble unassuming easy dog and he went so fast at the end. We didn't have time to adjust to a life without him. Every noise we here we think its Homer then remember. And poor Aryn had to do this once before for us. Years ago our old dog Lumpy got too sick to carry on and she had to take him into the vet. I hope she doesn't get a complex.

Well, a few minutes ago another disaster and catastrophy has arisen. I can't talk about it just yet but this one is a doozy. Oh Lord, give me strength. TTYL

good week

Well, it has been a good week. April had her birthday and all went well. It was nice to see some of those kids again. Had a long good visit with Eatna.

Have a call tomorrow with LC. My homework this week was to isten to people and hear what they are saying about themselves. Sounds easy but isn't. I talked with aryn, bill, monte, april, cookie, brian, kathy, jojo, and a few others. I am not sure if I read the all correctly but it was sure interesting.

Tomorrow, Bill and I will be driving out to horseshoe bay ferry to meet Kevin and Tandy and FENTON!!! We will take both vehicles so that we can take fenton with us and they can go do what they have to with the car. She has a dr. appointment to get a cervical stitch. So Bill and I will be taking mr. man to caca beach and the airport, as per usual. I can't wait!

music

I love music, loud thumping blinding crazy music. Right now I am listening to DJ Champion. OH MY GOD.....if anyone is reading this go download their song Alive Again. There is no better.

Bill and I are off for coffee here shortly, and April is getting ready for her giant birthday party tonite. I had to clean up my den here so someone can sleep in it. They had better not be drunk and barfy!!

It is Kathy's birthday today. I wish I could be there with her. Sometimes I just miss being with my sister and my family. We have had so many good birthdays together over the years.

Well, gotta go have cofeee. TTYL

poundage

Ok, I haven't been eating, certainly not off my diet, yet this morning I am up 1.5 pounds. How annoying. I cannot even imagine how my weight is going to skyrocket on the cruise. I think I will take my scale along!!
I entered a contest to spend an evening with Adam Lambert. If I win I will flip right out. I can't even imagine sitting across from him and being able to just talk like a normal convo. On the other hand, strangely I feel connected to him (I know this sounds insane) so maybe it wouldn't be too bad.
Monte made the funniest comment in starbucks yesterday. Bill told him he was insane (in response to something monte had said) and he immediately quipped back, "Oh thank god, you aren't real then." I thought that was so funny. Even Bill did.

Today I am shopping, then baking. I am making tim tam cheesecake, ovaltine brownies, and starting the banoffee for april's birthday tomorrow nite. I love baking, even when I can't eat it!!

April is 22 tomorrow. We are all going to Andreas for dinner. We do this every year on her birthday. That is because the day we brought her home from the hospital, we stopped at Andreas for dinner before going home. That was her very first family dinner. Tomorrow nite Aryn and Rob, Jocelyn and Dorothy are coming as well. Yay!!!!!!!!!!!

Gotta go. I have to make a comprehensive list to shop with later. TTYL

down down down

welll I am definitely under the 215 now. I feel all skinny and wrinkly. I still am not real comfortable in a size 2x. I don't like that muffin bulge to show at all.

Listening to Frightened Rabbit. I Love them....I wish I could go see them onMay 15 but I shall not be here! I shall be in Anchorage Alaska, shopping til we drop! I hope it doesn't rain too much.

We fly to Beijing on April 25th. On the 30th we board our princess ship and sail off for a lovely adventure. What I really like is that we get off the boat here in Vancouver!!

I have already started packing. I know I will gain some weight so I am packing stuff that fits right now. That way I will be able to grow into my stuff!! I refuse to cruise and not eat. I will just have to exercise caution. My biggest downfall breakfast. I love breakfast. So...my game plan is to eat breakfast in the rooom and not up in the buffet. I shall two days to go up and eat and the rest of the time I shall have it delivered to my room. Poached egg on dry toast and coffee. That is more than I get right now so I am happy.

Once again I just went through my closet and drawers and have thrown out my fat clothes. Never again. Life is so much easier skinnier.

long time

I am finally back, in my purple room writing away. My next entry is going to be about Life Coaches. I had much the same feeling about LC as I did about orthodontists. Useless and he can learn more from me than I could ever learn from him. After all I am 57 and he is just a baby of about thirty something. He was new at the coaching game and my daughter told me that he was looking for guinea pigs to practise on for a lower rate. So, why not I say. I shall refer to him as lc.

To begin with, I have never met LC. We talk on the phone. Now, I have seen a picture of him on facebook but I can't connect that face to the very australian accented disembodied voice on the other end of the phone line. From the first moment I said hello to him, he took charge of the call. Hell he took charge of the call, the topic, the perception of what we were talking about and the total direction of the conversation. I daren't slip up and make a small offside comment because it would come slamming back at me with a galeforce of one hundred.

The very first thing he somehow managed to suss out of me was how I have been battling my fat problem. I mean, how did that slip out? Honest to pete!!! I couldn't believe my mouth opened and spewed out my misery of being fat!!! Then, sweet Jesus, I heard my mouth going on about how I didn't want to feel unaccomplished and unmotivated anymore. What the Hell??!! He never ever misses a single thing. I mean, I am now going to the gym, practising the piano, writing, getting along with Bill, not worrying about Monte, and I have lost sixty pounds....and counting. This magical, all knowing, powerful voice on the other end of the line has replaced that nasty little voice in my head. But....I still don't know how it happened.