Garbage Day

Its amazing to me how two little words can bring such instant tummy clenching dread. Garbage day, or rather the night before garbage day, in our house, is an awful stressful nasty event.

It starts with Bill, around 3 in the afternoon making a lound announcement, "Its GARBAGE DAY tomorrow! I have to get all the garbage out." We all kind of suck in our breath and pretend we didn't hear. Then at around four he makes the announcement again. And again we all kind of shake a little and don't say a word. He continues these announcements until late evening when he finally gets up and starts organizing and taking out garbage. And thats when the shit ALWAYS hits the fan. I will explain how this came about.

Back a few years I did the garbage. Everything got hauled out and tossed into the big green bin on wheels. Then, along came recycling. So I did put the occasional blue box out half full of recylables and half full of stuff I thought was recyclable. Then, one day, when Bill had stuff he wanted to chuck, and I told him there were rules and we weren't aloud to throw that stuff in the regular garbage, he simply took over the garbage day routine. And everytime he got a notice, sticker or fine for doing things he wasn't supposed to, and every new garbage rule that came out, his whole garbage day attitude deteriorated. His attitude is solely responsible for the following actions and reactions from our household members as follows:

We are scared to bring out garbage from our bedrooms. As a result we end up with quite an accumulation. Finally it becomes imperative that we put out that garbage. The moment he sees it he becomes huffy and viciously yells " So you are just saving it up. There is only so much room in the bin and you just have to bring that out don't you? What do you do? Just keep it til its so huge that blah blah blah blah and so on and so on yardy yardy yardy" until we just wish there was no such thing as kleenex, old socks, labels off new clothes, paper cups, etc... What the hell are we supposed to do with this stuff if not put it in the garbage?

April lives downstairs. Her garbage is her business, not Bill's. But Bill insists on opening up all the bags and dumping the garbage into the bin and spreading it out....supposedly to make more room than if it were still bagged. But then he starts looking at it and later makes comments like, "must be nice to be rich...you can just throw out perfecty good food. And why are you throwing out running shoes? They can go to the clothes for poor people bins. And pizza boxes can be recycled. They don't care if theres food all over it!!!" Meanwhile she is remembering the personal personal garbage she also threw out and is about ready to die of embarrassment. Some things fathers just shouldn't see.

But.....the one that really gets us is when he shouts "Who put this f..... can in the garbage?!!!" Now, we have just had endless company and different people in the house, who bless them help clean up. They don't know about Garbage Bill and will accidently put a can or recyclable in the garbage. The conniption fit this creates in Bill is ridiculous. And no matter how we explain it he just continues to freak. Honestly it is just stupid.

And finally when he has it all organized and ready to be taken down to the curb in the morning, he will ask April, "When do you go to work?" She always answers "7:30. I will take the garbage down, don't worry (the truck comes at 8)" And then he will spend the whole night waking up until around five he gets up, wakes up the whole household, gets the dogs going, stomps outside, drags the bin down to the curb, turns on the tv, grinds coffee and sits down in the living room. So flipping annoying!!!!!! Then when the truck comes, he always, and I mean always, watches them pick it up and drive off. He turns around with a smug smirk on his face and does a little victory grunt. Its like "beat the garbage man" every week.

MEMORY ONE

Every time I bend over the kitchen sink to wash my hair, with my eyes closed, operating on rote mode, a random past memory will flash into my head. They are random and unexpected. Sometimes the same one will show up several times, but for the most part it will be some crazy moment from my past. Today:

My sister was five and I was seven. We lived in Smithers on the Government Experimental Farm, along with several other families. There were a large number of kids living on that farm. One day, a bunch of us, including my sister, were far over across the farm on the other side of the farm away from our house. I don't remember exactly what we were doing but my sister was causing us trouble and she had started to cry. I was really annoyed. Firstly I should explain one factor here. We belonged to a very strict religion, some people call it a cult, and this was in the fifties, so swearing, even saying "Gee" was totally verboten. I can still see her standing a little over from me, in her little blue outdoor outfit, crying. I turned on her and yelled, " You are just an A. S.. S.!!!" I spelled it because she couldn't spell yet and even as angry as I was, I couldn't bring myself to say that totally verboten word outloud. She took off, crying for home.

A few hours later I headed home. Upon arriving in the toasty warm kitchen, my mother marched me into the bedroom and ripped into me for calling my sister an ass. I was royally walloped and left to my own misery in the bedroom. That little monkey had walked all the way home (quite a distance) crying all the way, and upon her arrival in the toasty warm kitchen, asked innocently, "Mommy what does A.S.S. spell?"

MY FINAL FUTURE

I need to go on record about what I want to happen in my final living space. I keep alluding to my plan in conversations with my kids and friends, but I thought I should put it down in writing so when the time comes, and if I argue an opposite plan, someone can read this to me and remind me that one time when I was in a healthier state of mind, I knew what was best for myself!!!

Firstly, I have no problem whatsoever with being put into a home for seniors and the more they do for me the better. After years and years of cooking, cleaning, running errands, balancing cheque books, worrying about children, driving, planning trips around how available bathrooms are, sitting through endles hours of hair perming, dieting endlessly and getting fatter, feeling guilty about not changing my sheets every friday, guilt about not playing the piano enough, hours and hours and hours spent in airplanes.....etc.......I am more than ready to retire to a small space with few, if none at all, expectations on my part.

I do have a small list of must haves though to make this final living place perfect.

A comfortable, not squeaky, rocking chair is a must. I want one that doesn't "walk" as I rock. Rocking chair connoisseurs will know exactly what I am talking about. I also need a second comfy chair for guests.

I want a lap top (macbook pro with lit keyboard). I want one that will hold all my music and all my thousands and thousands of photos.

A pair of really skookum noise cancelling headphones with a long cord.

Wifi

A really easy to use cell phone

A small tv

Access to an unlimited supply of cheezies and mars bars.

And that is all I need. No kitchen, no vacuum, no car, really short hair that needs no maintenance, no need for a calendar, just a small easy space with my little list of needs!!! Sounds like something to look forward to one day!

P.S. On that lap top is my playlist for my funeral and a little speech I want someone to read for me.

BIG MISTAKE

I made a pretty big fundamental mistake in my house. Back when we were in Maui, it came to my attention that Bill wanted to know what people were saying to me on facebook. Every time I told him what comment I was making, he would start bugging me to check and read to him the responses to it. He would continuously make suggestions (ridiculous ones) on what I should say and what pictures to post. It became really annoying, so I made the big mistake........I suggested that he get his own account, his own "friends", make his own comments and post his own pictures. Bill, afterall, is a born gossip...I learned that one years ago!

So, I sat down with his laptop, created his account, gave him a pretty thorough tutorial and made quite a few friend invites on his behalf.

That was just the start. I do believe I have had to repeat that tutorial five thousand times and I know that I will have to five thousand more. He honestly does not retain even one step of the process of putting on pictures or making comments. He has made hundreds of comments and every time, and I mean everytime, he says "my comment is NOT showing up. I keep putting it on and it won't stay. It disappears!!! What the hell!!" And yet again I ask "Did you push return when you were finished?" "Uh, no. OH!!! I see!!!" Then a couple minutes later, "It's on five times now. How do I take them off?" "Put your cursor on the top of the post, move it slowly to the right until you see the little x. Click on it and pick delete from the menu." "Ohhhhhhh!!! Okay! Does this delete the picture from my iphoto?"

Just as he was getting pretty good at it all, facebook changed, and not for the good. So all the questions and confusion started all over again. Only this time I can't help him. I really only go on facebook when I am travelling or for a quick update on whats happening. So, over the last week or two I have said "I don't know Bill. Its new to me and you will have to figure it out for yourself. I haven't done that yet. READ it. Go to the help section. Find it yourself!!!"

One of the complaints about facebook that I have heard many times since its inception is how addicting it is and how people spend their life on facebook and not out living the real life. I never really understood that. How? It doesn't take that long to catch up with people's news and take a quick look at pictures. Well, I understand it now. Yesterday when I got up a few minutes after Bill, he was already on facebook. Hours and hours later, he was still on facebook and he hadn't moved out of his chair. Finally around two or three in the afternoon Aryn phoned. We were heading over to costco (already delayed by about three hours because Bill was "just finishing this up" on face book). Aryn needed a document we had. That finally got him out of the chair. We got back around six, he unloaded the groceries from the truck and then plopped down in his chair, went back on facebook and was on it til he came to bed around midnight. He even stayed glued to it through his favourite tv shows. He is LOVING it!!!

At one point yesterday he pipes up "How do I get this picture on Rowan's (grandchild) part (wall). I keep punching the picture but it doesn't go where I want it to go. How do I get it there? Do I drag and drop it?" So I ask "From where to where?" Irritably he responds "I don't know." So yet again I say, "Bill, I don't know what you are talking about. You will just have to figure it out for yourself" About a half hour goes by. Suddenly he says "There!!! I did it!!! " A couple of minutes go by and then, " So if YOU need help doing anything on facebook just ask me." and he was saying this in the smuggest tone of voice. I could have smacked him!!!

MALE VS. FEMALE....AS A LIFE PARTNER

I sometimes wish I was a lesbian. Really. My youngest daughter had a bit of a painful moment with her live in boyfriend this weekend. And as she was verbally working it through with me, she made the comment that she would really prefer to be living with a girl than boy. I get it, totally.

At the risk of sounding like I am taking a giant step backwards in time here, I feel that there are some fundamental differences between the sexes that no amount of equalization will alter. I will give some examples:

Sensitivity: I almost feel like I don't have to explain this one. A few years ago we were going out for the evening. It required dressing up to some extent. I bought a dress and all the trappings, got all dressed up, extra did my hair, put on make up AND jewelry and made my entrance down our elegant, showcasing stairs. Bill watched me descend, and, ......said nothing. So I asked him, "how do I look?" He looked me up and down, I twirled, feeling pretty, and he responded "You look matronly." WHAT?? Now, even if that were true there is no way in hell would my bestest girlfriend in the world say that one out loud! Men are just not capable of recognizing that "line" of personal comments that one should never ever step over. That incident happened years ago and I have never forgotten.

General House Labour: There is no doubt in my mind that if I had been married to a woman for the last forty years, my total hours I have spent housecleaning and cooking in my whole life would be cut down so significantly it is depressing. Not only does the labour fall on the woman (with notable exceptions, my best friend and my sister are each married to one of those esceptions= go figure) but the judgement from others when they see your house or dine on a meal cooked by you. So, it is a double whammy. If I had a wife, she would share the work and the criticism!

BATHROOM: Okay, this one is a no brainer. For those of you out there that don't live in a predominantly male household, let me explain something, and if you are the faint of heart type, skip this paragraph. MEN CAN'T AIM. So, you end up with pee buildup all around the base of the toilet. MEN POOP STRAIGHT UP. How is that even possible? Some of the messes at the toilet I can't even figure out. Men never throw out empty shampoo bottles. Men shave and leave whiskers in the sink. I could go on and on, but I won't. Not one of those aforementioned things would happen If I had married a woman.

So all in all, I get my daughter's point. Unfortunately, though, I am not a lesbian. So the writing is on the wall. I will spend the rest of my married life cooking, cleaning, hating my bathroom and dodging hurtful comments. Good thing I love him!!

an awesome amazing day

I had my most favourite type of day yesterday...We were supposed to get up early and either go up the Duffy lake road to Cache Creek, stay a night there and come home through the canyon, taking pictures all the way or head straight to Keremeous to buy apples and tomatoes. April and Andrew were supposed to get up early, take the doggies and go to Keats. We all got up late, took one look out at the dismal day outside, and made the executive decision to .....stay in our pj's all day, make a big delicious breakfast, watch pvred tv shows until we were hungry again and then order pizzas, lay around with the dogs, drink pots of coffee and do as little moving as possible. It was AWESOME. This had to be the perfect autumn day.

I did go into the bedroom at one point whilst there was a show on that I had already seen. I folded all the leftover laundry, unpacked some suitcases etc...felt good to get it all done. Oh, and I spent some time on Purple Room couch reading my favourite book.

So, now it is fairly early Sunday morning. And it seems to be a beautiful day outside. I have a feeling we will be out and about today, starting at either McD's (if Bill gets up early enough) or Starbucks if not. I think we shall take the dogs out to the airport beach and let them go!

But, I have to admit, Saturday was my all time favourite kind of day. Family, food, dogs, tv and no agenda!