White Water Canoe Weekend

It was brilliant.

I don't know what else to say.

It was beautiful weather, we got rained on Sunday, but no wind so we made it back in record time.

I laughed a lot.



I got soaked. Notice the water in the bottom of the canoe?



Yes, that is a deer chasing the rapids.



We named her Psycho Deer. I figure she was looking for some kicks. Neurotic Dog jumped out of the canoe to chase her. It's been so long since she's been able to chase deer.

We had wine, lemon meringue pie, olives and cheese, granola bars, enchiladas, spaghetti, granola with too much chocolate, and a stop at Irving's for fries and gravy on the way home. It was awesome.

The Race

Ok, so last year we did the same race. The Mitsubishi Motors City Chase all over Ottawa.
Last year we were fifth.
This year? Er....Let me explain.
This year it was held at the Museum of Civilization. Which meant of course, that regardless of where you had to go, you had to run at least three kilometers first. Which is fine for runners, and my rockstar hubby. Not moi.
So they split us up in to two parts. One part, two hundred people, ran to the statue of Maurice Richard, the other half down to the water.
So we ran down to the water. It took about five minutes, downhill. Then we saw two people in yellow shirts (crew) and realized we had to build a tower out of seven rocks that was two feet high. Which was easy. Except that there were two hundred people there doing the same thing. And only one person giving the check to go. We waited fifteen minutes for ours to get looked at. I sang 'Hey beeeooootiful laaaaaady!' at the top of my voice for awhile, but it didn't work.
We then ran up a hill to receive our clues.
Rockstar hubby had to pee and was not focused at all. And the clue sheet didn't look too good.
We first ran to Jacques Cartier park, where we joined another team to walk on skiis around an obstacle course. Then I had to wear a helmet, with a cup attached and RSH had to throw balls at me to get them in.
Then we had to run. All the way to the Art Gallery. Uphill. We got behind it and there was the challenge. I had to 'golf' very heavy balls to a number. RSH then had to use stilts to walk the length. Thankfully, he grew up on stilts (???) and did brilliantly. Then we had to run to William Street. it was already 26C.
We had to use a Blackberry to video: 15 seconds of us playing leapfrog, 15 seconds of me singing with another person, 15 seconds of me tickling someone's foot, a tatoo below the waist, 15 seconds of me sharing food with another person. We did that quickly and efficiently.
Then we had to walk to the busstation and wait for the 7 bus to take us to Carleton U. That took 10 minutes. Then we boarded and worked on our trivia sheet during the twenty minute bus ride. It was about 3 miles, but I needed the rest and to refuel.
We got there and ran to the park where it was very busy. We had to run 'suicides' and then rsh had to shoot four cans down with a paintball gun. He got two. So I got to shoot him in the back and he was given five more shots. With the cans down, we took off again.
We ran down to the glebe, to the Running Room where we handed in our trivia sheet. The lady there was incredibly rude and said we failed. No check point. Then we had to convince five strangers to buy cans of iced tea. That was hard. Let me tell you how pissy people are in the Glebe. Woo!
Then we caught a bus up to Bank and Gladstone (which was only a fifteen minute run, but you have to understand that my body was tightening up, two hours had gone by, and I was exhausted). Then we ran into the Whalebone. I threw a die, and I got a four. We went inside and I had to eat four raw oysters.
Dude.
I can barely swallow eggs.
RSH opened them and I cleaned them with water and as each was placed at the back of my throat, I would gag, then swallow immediately. It tasted like slimey salt. It was gross.
Then we had to run to Elgin to find Jack Purcell Park. We were to bowl while blindfolded, but the line-up was incredible and the people at the front had already been waiting fifteen minutes. We decided to leave.
We ran up Elgin and decided to wait for the number 3. We had to go to Coventry to the baseball Stadium. That was far. The bus came every half hour. We had three check points to go. We had to choose.
We waited.
We got there, with many others on the bus, and realized we could not just go in because there was a HUGE thing going on with muscle cars and women not wearing much, so we had to go AROUND. I was starting to shiver. It was 30C. We had to run around the stadium, down the hill and inside.
I had to catch a ball that rsh would hit with a bat. I did. Then we had to run up the stands to another guy to get another check. Then we had to run back down to the field, all the way around the stadium, and to the bus stop.
I was exhausted. My head pounded and I was shivering at this point. My eyes felt like they were closing on their own.
We had to wait half an hour for the bus.
We got on and sat down. I ate more, drank more (this is where I tell you I had 4 litres of water in three hours, but it did nothing) and then I got the stomach cramps. RSH wanted me to quit and I said no. Just one more checkpoint.
We got off downtown, ran to Sussex and then to a bunch of cars. We had to grab three strangers, pull them into a car and we all had to sing at the top of our voices for thirty seconds to a song on the radio. We did.
Then we had to run all the way back to the Museum.
It took twenty minutes. Uphill.
We got there at 4 1/2 hours, we were number 166.

I was devastated.

It was definitely a runners' race, and we had planned poorly.

Ah, well, there's always next year.

Being Busy Enough to Avoid

We go camping this weekend with three other fabulous couples. The yearly retreat to the Petawawa River. I have to say, I'm not really looking forward to it. I think my body is getting too old to sleep uncomfortably on the ground. And the bugs, oh the bugs. And my period is due. Which has happened for the past three years. Yuck. That's the biggest reason.
And so much has to be done around here! My front garden which I've worked so hard on, is now full of crabgrass. My backyard is full of doggie-doo-doo and sharp thistles. My greenbeans are out of control. My tomatoes are on the verge of turning red, but it's just not sunny enough. I've already had to chuck four due to blossom end rot.
My book. Sigh. Don't even talk to me about my book. You'd think I'd have it done by now, but it seems that family pressures and challenges are keeping me distracted. And my rockstar hubby isn't working enough. I know that sounds ridiculous, but he's been home at weird times, so 'me' time becomes 'us' time. And I'm terribly happy about that.
And then, I haven't been feeling very well. It must have something to do with the race we did on Saturday. I think I hit dehydration well, because I still have stomach aches and headaches and a bit of nausea in the head. Hm...
ah well, suck it up princess.

Conversation on the way to the Car

Me: I'm not opening your batman mobile until we get to the car ok?

gaffer: when we get to the car

me: that's right

gaffer: but when you open it, you give me the package, ok?

me: ok buddy

gaffer: cause you're giving me the package, right?

me: ok

gaffer: i'm aaaaalll about the packaging.


(incidentally, he still has the package. and he calls it the 'batman bumblebeel')

:)

Conversation in the Car

Gaffer: Mommy? You're a rockstar!

Me: Oh, thanks buddy! You're a rockstar too!

Gaffer: No, I'm the teacher of rockstars.

On the Hunt

It took seven stores and five hours...

...but I found it.


my bathing suit.

Harnessing the Rage

Our fabulous neighour, the one who smokes, the one who has large tree trunks right on the edge of our 'shared' property which he cuts with a chainsaw, in shorts, with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, has built a firepit in the backyard.
I'd like to say that it smells lovely, all that woodsmoke, the fire cackling etc.
But it doens't.
It reeks.
Which is why at 9pm on a Sunday night, with beautiful winds and temperatures of 15C, my windows are closed and my air conditioning is on.
This seriously pisses me off.
What pisses me off even more is that he is not outside enjoying his fire at all. No, he's inside his house, probably sitting in front of the tv, waiting out his drunken stupor.
And my house stinks, because his stupid fire is exactly 30 feet from my house.

Tonight, I can't do anything about it, and rockstar hubby has pretty much chained me to the sofa so that I don't go ballistic all over his butt. He said tomorrow when our fabulous neighbour was remotely sober, he would discuss with him how stinky it is.
And then we'll check the by-laws. Because I have no problem calling the cops on his butt.
I'm praying he stops having fires. We have been seriously nice to this family, even rock star hubby doing their freakin' driveway ALL winter and if I can remind you, we had a crapload of snow which resulted in him snowblowing EVERY SINGLE DAY! And no, we he didn't do it for anything in return, a thank you would have been nice, but that's fine.

I am currently having nightmares of moving again. I cannot deal with my clothes, my sheets, my couch smelling like campfire smoke. Yes, campfire smoke is lovely...in the forest!
I don't want to move again. I like my house. I love my house. It's starting to become home.

I think I'm going to lose my mind.

a secret

I have always wanted to do the L.A. thing.
You know where you pack up your bags, bring your best profile photos and go to millions of auditions? Of where you have a roomate in an apartment and you read 'Variety' to find out where the auditions are, and work as a waitress to make ends meet?
To spend weekends rollerblading down the ocean, getting tanned and swimming in the salty waters.
To always audition for the 'fat girl' spot because I'm not a size 0 or a hundred pounds.

I know it's sleezy/cheezy but it's something I've always wanted to do.

My Moment of Brilliance

We always get credit cards in the mail. And it's always the same. I open them, cut them up and throw them out.
Today a card came from Desjardins Bank.
What the?
I opened it to find a credit card with rockstar hubby's name on it. And a note saying, 'Call this number to activate the card!' Yah, ok, not in this lifetime. So I pulled out my scissors and chopped it up, tossing into yesterday's leftover chicken bones.
Talked to rockstar hubby.
'Can you believe they sent us a credit card? They are getting really gutsy with their ploys!' I say as I clean the kitchen and get ready to bag the trash.
"Oh, that's the visa we had to get to buy the cloud. Once we pay it, we can deactivate it."

Oh. Oops.

It's now sitting on the kitchen counter, in 12 pieces.