Happy New Year

It's been awhile, blah blah, sorry I haven't blogged, etc...

Now that that's done with:

December has been a bit crazy. Starting with the book. The book of mine which will be published next Christmas. A little exciting. I've already done the first edits and am waiting a little impatiently for the next set. I was promised it would be done before Christmas, but I kinda knew that wouldn't happen. And that's ok. Because I really have no idea what to do after that.
I got to see the illustrator, who is incredibly talented and I'm still waiting to see the cover of the book.
Hm..a lot of waiting.

Christmas was lovely, but quiet. Rockstar Hubby managed to work the nights leading up to Christmas, had the eve off, but then back at work the next two nights. Which meant I stared at the tv a lot. Sad, but true.

I did buy a new notebook, which I haven't really played with because it doesn't have any new things to do on it, with the exception of it being smaller.
I did book our tickets to Paris in May. And booked the apartment. Oh my, oh my. And I bought tickets to Atlanta for a rebuild of homes with Disaster Relief. Hm...so much going on.
Ah fudge. Gotta cook the spaghetti

cocoon

I function better when I live in my cocoon.

My entire life I've spent living within my cocoon.
Everything would happen outside of it, and I would just pay attention to the inside.

Not in a selfish, mean manner, don't get me wrong. I just could never handle the truth.

And tonight I'm 'seeing' a lot of the truth. And the truth is awful.

I find myself wondering if the war is working. If women are finding themselves in worse conditions or better. I want to yell at the arrogant people who are saying it's a waste of time. Is it?

I find myself wondering how women are still surviving everywhere, just from the way men treat them. This isn't a 'feminist' thing, I just realized tonight that probably 90% of women believe that they are not worth it. And the way that some man has treated them. It breaks my heart and it makes me so angry.

And so I'm upstairs, hubby at work of course, I only have meltdowns when he's not home...and I feel so wretchedly sick to my stomach. To think of the pain, and the harshness going on out there. And here I am in my comfortable home, wondering whether or not we can afford a new couch.

And this is why I stay in my bubble. Because if I don't, I am racked with constant grief and my heart breaking.

I am so ignorant.

A little more conversation, a little less action please...

Too tired!

Life is...I had it down past during the summer. I had it figured out. We didn't have time schedules, we could nap if we wanted, spend the entire afternoon playing in the backyard in the kiddie pool eating rice crisps, or tending the tomatoes...We could go hang out at the grocery store, walk to get ice cream when it was hot. So simple.
Now...

I am having such a hard time finding my groove. The gaffer is 5. He's in SK. He goes to school 3 times a week. He has swimming lessons twice a week. I was excited to have all this time to myself. To 'get things done'. The only thing I've gotten done on my list is get rockstar hubby to hang up a lantern over the fireplace. And that was only today after I harassed him for about ten minutes about it. Which took a trip to home depot to buy anchors to screw the bracket to the wall. But it's very pretty.
I vaguely have my library ready. In quiet wallowing, I had a garage sale and sold all of my baby items. Then I turned the nursery into a library. I bought a huge bookshelf with cubbies and put it right in the middle of the room to be a divider, so that I have a cubby to write in. I purchased a lavender desk to write on. I'm still looking for that perfectly comfy chair but I don't think Bombay Company is something I can afford. But it's not done yet. I'm tempted to paint the room a chocolate brown as it is right now a light blue. Which was the gaffer's original room, but it faces north, so this summer we moved him into the yellow room which faces the backyard and gets sun for about 8 hours. I love to watch him sit in the sunlight and build something brilliant with his lego.
I'm trying to organize my house. I still don't have a place for everything and with all of the things that need to be done (ie laundry, bathrooms, laundry, making food, laundry) it hasn't been done. Which means my house is kind of a disaster. And it needs to be organized. For me. For my sanity.

Because in the middle of November, I'm getting my manuscript back. Macro-edited. Because I scored a deal with Zondervan.
Let's all take a moment to scream.

Ok, that being said, yes, I am ridiculously excited. But I have no idea what to expect. I can't imagine writing and re-writing for three days while the gaffer is at school, when I can't find time to sweep my floors now. My days off are non-existent! And I am beginning to suffer...badly.

But I have a book deal...

and the lantern looks lovely.

the five year old's perspective

"when I bounce, my pe*** always wiggles."

and now for your viewing pleasure...

this is why I married him.

The gaffer is 5

Yesterday, the gaffer turned 5.
I'd like to say it was a monumentous occasion, but we were camping, and it was actually awful. Due to wasp stings, bugs in the eye, mosquito bites, not sleeping all night because it was freezing, he was in prime form with the whining, tantruming and crying.
I felt so blessed.

But now, the next morning, after a decent night's sleep, as he watches star wars in the other room while I try to get my house in order, I'm having a moment.

It doesn't help that I'm washing baby food jars. Because I make muffins out of their squash because I couldn't be bothered to cook my own.

Before he was born, I didn't want him. And then God said, you need kids. And we got pregnant that week.
I didn't enjoy pregnancy, even though I wasn't sick, I wasn't exhausted...I just, didn't like it.
I didn't enjoy the labour.
I didn't enjoy him the first 6 weeks. In fact, I realize now that I was suffering from postpartum. Who knew?
And then at two months, I fell in love. Actually, I was watching 'Cold Mountain' and the part with Natalie Portman? Where the soldiers come? And demand food? And she doesn't give them any? So they put her naked baby in the snow? That's when I snapped. No way was anyone going to touch my baby.

He's 5.
I feel sick.
I so enjoyed 4.
Why does he have to grow up?
Sure, I know I have moments, like this camping trip where I wish I was far far away. But of course as soon as I am far far away, I find myself sniffing his sheets and snuggling his pillow because even though it smells like bad breath, I miss him. Desperately.
I hate thinking of the future.
Because I know he has to grow up.
I know he has to leave home.
I know he has to get married and I will need to not call him everyday.
Every second.
Demanding a kiss or snuggle.
And that breaks my heart.

Here's to being five.
I pray it lasts a lifetime.

missing you

every once in awhile it bothers me.

that we aren't close.
that you can't let go, you can't forgive, you can't just let me be me.
i can't apologize for disappointing you, because i haven't done anything wrong. except live within your control.
i am so genuinely sad.
i understand that life is to be filled with heartache, especially for those who are called to follow.
i realize that i am being protected by this lack of relationship, that i would hurt ever so much more were we trying to be closer.
i realize that my heart can only handle so much.
and that's why i've stopped trying.
but sometimes, sometimes i wish you would just pick up the phone, or have me for coffee and actually listen to what i'm saying.
that you would actually like me for who i am.
not that you need to.
but it would be nice.

i see the photos of all of you and you look so happy and ...a family.
and i don't have that.
i just avoid all of it.
am i a coward?
or am i just too tired to deal?

my own little family of three makes up for all of it.
i couldn't be happier.

but sometimes...
oh sometimes...
i miss you desperately.
or maybe i just miss what i thought we once had.

couples camping

It was a good camping holiday.
Rockstar hubby and I are so used to shooting the lower Pet over a period of 3 days. We pack up all the canoes, safety equipment, first aid kit, helmets, food, tent etc and haul a few other couples to canoe camp with us. It’s an exhausting trip which requires a lot of bravery and skill. Not only do we need to stay up late the night before to pack everything, we get up at 3am to pack the car, put food from freezer to barrel packs, grab a last latte, and meet at Antrim for 5am. By leaving at 5am, we get to our put-in at Lake Traverse for around 9. After a quick ‘how to canoe’ recap, we’re off. Exactly one hour after paddling calm waters and listening to couples’ bicker, we hit the rapids. And from then on, we just give’er. Right until suppertime, in which RSH sets up the fire, boils water and cooks supper, while I set up our tent and whatnot. We eat, do dishes and then crash at 9 because we have to get up at 6 the next morning to get an early start. It’s a total of 50km that we have to paddle. And on the last day, we hit the three long lakes, in which, it always rains, pushing us further away from our destination. Then we go home. It’s exhausting. While it is fun, very very fun, and it’s fun to hang out with the other couples and discuss stuff and experience God, it’s exhausting. RSH and I need a few days to get our focus back because we are so tired. Planning, executing, constantly making sure that everyone is safe. It’s strenuous but fabulous. But we’ve noticed a decline in participants this year. We’ve been doing it for 6 years now. Maybe 7. A mens’ trip and then a couples’ trip. Two a year. Exhausting. And while people usually whine/complain/ask why we don’t do it more often, we just inwardly roll our eyes and say, well, we’ll see. But this year.
Oh, this year.
This year, was very, very relaxing.
We decided after the mens’ trip, to make it a relax trip. There were only 5 guys on the men’s trip, and frankly, as fun as it was for them, it was a waste of our resources and stress. So we picked an area to just walk to, to set up and just hang out. RSH still got stressed about the planning, trying to make sure he made enough coffee (7 pots that morning), make sure the food was cooked, the dishes were washed, the food put away, the garbage tied up...he actually got to play for a whole hour. I found it relaxing because I didn’t care. If people were hungry, they could help themselves. I actually got to sleep in that morning because I was so tired. And RSH enjoyed it. He said he felt more relaxed. That he needed to relax. So despite the comments of ‘well, while this is nice, I miss doing the trip and running the rapids and I miss the excitement’ (of which I bit my tongue quite hard) RSH and I have come to a mutual agreement that next year, will be a year of ‘doing nothing’ camping. Whoever wants to come, can sign up to take care of some of the food. Of some of the cooking. Because RSH and I are going to do like the other couples did and take off for a walk, or nap on a rock or swim for a lengthy period of time with each other and just enjoy being a couple. Instead of taking care of others.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to be selfish. But RSH works two jobs where he goes and goes and goes. The last thing he needs is to have to go and go and go again.

Oof. I just reread this and realized it sounds like I’m complaining. And I’m really not. I’ve enjoyed every trip. Maybe I’m just getting old....

summertime pt 2

"Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Oh, Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry

One of these mornings
You're going to rise up singing
Then you'll spread your wings
And you'll take to the sky

But until that morning
There's a'nothing can harm you
With your daddy and mammy standing by

Summertime,
And the livin' is easy
Fish are jumpin'
And the cotton is high

Your daddy's rich
And your mamma's good lookin'
So hush little baby
Don't you cry"


I watched the gaffer suck back a bottle of water and as he swallowed, he began to coo. I was transported by 4 1/2 years...

summertime...

...and the livin' is easy
fish are jumpin'
and the cotton is high.
your daddy's rich
and your ma is good-lookin'
so hush baby
don't you cry....

i love ella.

anyhoo, it's 35C and i just spent 4 hours in the blazing sun, gardening. i don't know what possessed me. i hate the heat. i hide like a little shadow from it. i like it when i'm beside a lake, but at the moment i am not. so i gardened. in full overalls. i cut down all the dead plants, weeded, and bought more plants. i finally bought a butterfly bush, a rudbeckia (really, can you have too many?) some herbs and an orchid for inside. i sweated like a pig, and i kinda liked it. and now for some reason, i'm ready to tackle the kitchen. what is wrong with me?

on the book front, i'm pleased to say that at the moment, the publisher is very excited and i'm waiting for a marketing thing to go through, and hopefully, in a week, i'll have an offer. and then i can share more details. i'm so excited. i keep imagining next Christmas, walking through chapters, and seeing my book. i'm very excited. i can't stop smiling. my sweet friend B, has also allowed me to publish her lovely song which i'm positive was written for me, even though she wasn't thinking of me at the time, to publish it at the beginning of the book. i hope the publisher goes for it. and then she's throwing me a 'seren is brilliant' party. everyone must dress frivolously...i must find my faerie wings....

Weird days...

you know those days where things are just...weird?

we had a dump truck drop off 15 tons of gravel onto our tarped driveway because rockstar hubby is filling our backyard hole in which we will soon have a patio. i'm very excited. but as the truck went forwards with his dumping, the front of his 'dumper' got caught in the hydro wires. thankfully rsh was there to yell at him to stop so he didn't pull the whole thing down. so then rsh donned leather gloves and rubber boots and climbed to the top of the caught 'dumper' and pulled the wires off. i watched carefully with my fingers on the '911' of our telephone. he didn't die.
then we (the family minus dog) went to go look at another house on the water. yes, i know we can't afford a house on the water, and no, we are nowhere even close to moving because, well, it would hurt financially. we've only been in our house for two years. how smart would it be to move? anyway, this house has 180' of riverfront property, plus 360' long to the end of the road. there's plenty of room to build an additional house and my dream-greenhouse. and it's a bungalow. that is weird. the two porches are sadly rotting. there are some strange bugs everywhere (I'm guessing he leaves his porch lights on all night) and the living room is the colour of mustard. not my favourite yellow, but whatever. the bedroom is a honkin L-shape, that steps down and there's no closet. the kitchen is weird, the dining room is weird, weird, weird, weird. and expensive. we're actually debating it...but would he knock 75$ off so we could afford to lift it and put in a walk-out?
then we went to the grocery store and rockstar hubby forgot wallet. he had to go back. then we ran into our favourite bakery-girl, Lisa, and she was shopping. looking very sick. with a shaved head under her hat. oh no. turns out she found a lump three weeks ago and in the past week, it's grown aggressively enough to attack all of her lymph nodes. she needs to undergo 5 operations, plus chemo and radiation. she's 36. i felt sick.
when we got home there was an email waiting for me from 'said' publishing house. they had been late getting back to me due to other book emergencies etc. but she said my revisions were 'seamless' and 'brilliant'. she'll push the book in a few weeks at their meeting and i'll know hopefully by the end of August. so i'm excited, but now i have to wait again. i think i'll start working on the other book for now.

i'm sorry to say that our week's holiday was not as great as expected. it rained every day save two days at the cottage and it was not warm out. rsh had to paint the cottage so it was constantly smelly (for some reason 'tremclad' was purchased to paint wood outside), family did NOT get the 75 subtle hints about wanting to be alone and there was guilt flung mercilessly at us. but the pipolinka and trip to the market was fun.

this saturday i am headed to watertown(down) with my friend to shop. then on sunday i'm off to pembroke for a much needed retreat.
and now i make tofurkey wraps as the gaffer fights off the bad guys.

and another post...

i spent the entire day procrastinating on line, and working on my book. i think i have it figured out. but i'm tired now.

the boys drove up to arnprior for pancakes and an airplane tour. luckily, they go to go in the cockpit and check it out. i played mindjolt on facebook.

tonight the boys had macaroni and cheese and angus hot dogs. i had a bit of both. that was 6 hours ago and i still feel it in the back of my throat.

then we all went outside and they had a sword fight in the circle, while i weeded. after ten minutes i joined them. and then the neurotic dog took off. i called to her right away but then saw it was a bunny. THE bunny. that little bugger who keeps gnawing on my tomatillo leaves and eating my lettuce. 'go get him!' i egged on the dog. and she gave it her all. and then she slipped, head first onto the neighbour's paved driveway. she kept running. and then she stopped. because she was limping.
my poor little girl. i took one look at her foreleg and noticed that it was missing fur. gashes of fur missing. and the skin underneath was hamburger.
oh crap.

she had another cut on her elbow (knee?) and it was bleeding. so after i grabbed a cold cloth and held it above heart level for half an hour, i polysporin-ed it, wrapped it in gauze and taped it. she's left it alone for the most part. i just rebandaged it, still gross looking but she didnt' complain. i let her own my bed because i felt bad.

i kicked her off five minutes later because she managed to pick up some slugs on her backside and deposited them on my bed.
at least i hope they were slugs. i'm having gross visions of my dog picking up worms.

regardless, rsh is missing the fun because he is in the basement with the gaffer, sleeping in a tent.

squelch

two posts in one day.

yes, of course i'm supposed to be editing my book, why do you ask?

i just facebooked a boy i was madly in love with in university. we went on a few dates and then one evening, at a forestry bash, he told me that i was no good for him. that i would want to rope him into marriage and he'd be as miserable as his brother is.

what?

i was CRAZY for this guy. absolutely nuts for him. he left after we graduated to work on some forestry stuff out west.

so i facebooked him. not a lot of info. i was devious and decided to google him.

i found his website.

he's a real estate agent.

bahahahaaaa!!!

"not that there's anything wrong with that!"
but seeing his cheesy smile and his polyester suit and his resume about the grade schools he went to in his hometown and his cheesy wife smiling beside him. the glint of 'badboy' from his eyes...now gone.

actually it's kind of depressing.
after rockstar hubby and i had married, we had run into my ex twice (and i was seriously in love with this man, i think i blogged about him before and i could have/would have married him but thank goodness i didn't because we would have killed each other) and that glint was gone too.
infact at the glebe garage sale i saw another ex, who was standing 25' away, but i chose to ignore him and sneak glances out of my eye as i talked cheerfully to gaffer to show how happy i was (like he'd recognize me in my huge fake D&G sunglasses with the mirrored lenses) and he was...glintless.

as happy as i am with rsh, i could not ask for a better best friend or husband, i'm left wondering...what happens to these men? where's the adventure inside them? where's the rollerblading off of handrails on stairs, where's the trying to be a chef, where's the going to Australia to ski and surf at the same time?

where did they go?

am i squelching my man?

of course there will be grumpiness...

today, was an incredibly weird day. i think the crazies are out. and they always manage to find me.

the morning started off good enough, had a great work out at the gym, got some shopping done for this weekend's adventure camping trip (in which we drive two hours to Pembroke, bike for 12km down an old train track to our campsite, and sleep there for the night) and then stopped at Tristan's because i saw a beautiful dress there last tuesday while on my day-date and was determined to try it on. it looked like...it looked like my Paris dress.
i already have a Paris jacket, but i won't be wearing it if we go to Paris in the spring, but i need to see the gardens...decisions, decisions!

so i went in to try it on and i had the gaffer with me. it's a wrap dress. one of those: here's the skirt and here's two swatches of extra long fabric for you to wrap around yourself. no instructions allowed. so i tried it on. and couldn't figure it out. but sort of. during this time, i had met the flamboyant salesman (would he think i looked fat in my dress?) and was waiting for him to ask me how it fit so he could show me how to wear it. but a salesgirl came over as i was trying on the other one (different colour) and i asked her to come back. she didn't. until ten minutes later, after i intercepted a phone call from rsh and told the gaffer for the tenth time to sit still and take it down a notch (the change room was smaller than a powder room). so she came back as i was dressed and i opened the door.

she looked about 50. wearing tight little jean shorts. and a peach sparkly top. her nails were fake, but not the good kind. the weird wide ones that curl funny. and they were peach. and her legs should not have been wearing shorts and her face looked like she was 70. and she kept touching my arm. it was creepy. so i bought the dress to play with at home (it works!)
at the grocery store, the gaffer was talking non-stop and all i wanted to do was get some underwear. at the cash i finally told him to stand still and not move as my very slow cashier rang through 60$ worth of groceries. behind me was a woman with 4 children. all under 6. she yelled out 'hey!' and began talking to a friend. her baby started screaming. for 5 minutes. the mom didnt' pick her up. now, i don't blame her, but i was seriously going to snap. i stuck my finger in one ear and just breathed. i wanted to turn around and just start screaming, 'shut up! shut up! shut up!' (such a Christian thing to do) but i didn't.

on the drive home, there were weird drivers. drivers cutting me off, drivers telling me to go ahead of them when i clearly could not and i held up traffic about 6 times.

then i crashed for a nap. i slept hard for two hours. rsh was home by then. i almost had two car accidents on the way to the puddlepark (playtime for neurotic dog). we stopped at timmy's for hubby to get a coffee (wouldn't you rather have a nice equator?) and was ambushed by a very large, very...drunk? teenager asking me if i had a smoke. she went and sat down, obviously loitering (big sign under her) looking drab and depressed. i let rsh drive home.

as i made supper i realized i was going to snap. seriously snap. no, not pms time. huh. why? i checked the calender. the gaffer had been out of school for almost three weeks now. my routine of not having him for two full days a week was gone. i have him all the time now and the sitter cut back her hours. i haven't had a day to myself in two weeks. and i haven't gone on a retreat with God since last November. i 'could' have gone last weekend with the women's ministry but rsh was off camping with the men, so i didn't go. huh. i need some serious r & r.

and to top off last night, i couldn't figure out what was going on with my body. i looked. i'll save you the details, but rsh had to go to the pharmacy to pick up some..anti-fungal cream. no, i won't be camping now because i cannot sit on a bike for 12km and not have plumbing.

so do they go alone? do they stay here? i'm so torn.

but i really need to get out of here...

ps: did i mention i was text - harassed from someone living in the yukon?

Freaking out

My brain...is too full.

I have to have my revisions done by the end of July. Sadly, I am having moments of detesting my book. Of not loving it. So I am going to make myself reread it until I love it again. Which I will. Because I want that offer. Badly.

Rockstar hubby did a tree job for a well-known meteorologist guy and talked about my book. He said that when and if (you mean 'when') it comes out, he'd be happy to set up a spot on the news to promote the 'local' author.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! platform!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Last night the m.i.l called to talk about our future arrangements of living together. Not all in one house, but in two different houses on the same property, possibly joined together by a garage (were we to build to spec). We've always agreed that we would take care of them when the time came. We figured we had awhile. But m.i.l wants to move sooner than that.

Huh.

And last night on the mls, we just happened to find three very cute homes on the waterfront.

Huh.

That we could probably afford.

Huh.

But I love my house. But it's the waterfront. But I like the area we live in. It's only 10 minutes from here. But I won't have as much privacy. That's why you set up schedules and build fences. But...but it's your job to take care of them...

my brain hurts.

Huh.

breathe in, breathe out

ok, ok, ok.

so a publishing company has contacted me after I had given up all hope and was ready to move on, and they are interested.
they want me to revise my book to make it, get this, more Christian! how cool is that?
they also suggested some very cool illustrations for it, in which I totally agreed.
my revisions are needed for the end of July. oof. but I can do it. well, WE can do it. :)
and then, just maybe, I'll get an offer.

from a lovely source, there's a good possibility....

yay!!!

Baby, it's warm outside

It's been a cool June, with the exception of a few weird days. Which I've been fine with. This week? Highs of 30's all week. Which means a challenging but super-fun camping trip for the boys. Rockstar hubby is taking 6 other men down the Petawawa for their annual trek. Not as many men this year, having dwindled slowly from 32 the first time they all went over 6 years ago. It just means less rushing, less cooking and less stress. There is a possibility that it won't even happen next year. Who knows?
The gardens are looking good. I'm having serious issues with my tomatillos as the same beetle that devours my chinese lantern, seems to enjoy munching on tomatillo leaves. I have already picked off and killed 20 (may I say that strangely enough, they were all captured in sets of two? You can guess what they were doing) and when I looked outside today I noticed the entire top leaves are gone and they are still munching away. Seriously, how does a bug eat that much leaf? Bunch of fatties. So I've dug up all the chinese lantern plants out front (how they got there is beyond me) and I'm seriously considering digging out the ones that run along my back cedar wall. I'd like to say that they are normally pretty, but how pretty are skinny, twiggy orange blobs? Not very. Sure I could 'try' using insecticidal soap, but seriously? I'm too lazy. I'd rather dig them up. They irritate me anyway. And I've tried drowning them in an old vase filled with water (don't ask) and adding 'oxyclean for your carpet pet stains' and that didn't kill them. I doubt some yellow Sunlight is going to do the trick. And I don't use Sunlight. I use some kind of watermelon Dawn with antibacterial cleaner blah blah in case I happen to miss the raw chicken goo stuck to my glass.
On a personal note, work has been...too busy. Too much tree work and not enough family quality time. I'm noticing that rsh and I are bickering a bit for no good reason. Time for some time I think. It's so easy to get caught up in working hard in the summer...especially when the work is there.

Off to clean the upstairs room in the cool of my house. Air-conditioning can wait until 4pm...

Yes! I'm Behind for goodness sakes!

Pbbttt!

Ok, so last week we went on our second family vacation. We don't count going to the cottage because we're only going an hour away and we can rush home if we need to, or drive half an hour for my latte fix :)
Last Monday, at 8am, we found ourselves packed to the gills in my ford focus, driving to St.Catherines. Nearest Niagara on the Lake.
I aquired a lovely friend about 8 years ago while waitressing (oh I miss those days..) who turned out to be a wine rep. He and his lovely wife, now own a vineyard. A tiny one, a charming one, but a vineyard nonetheless.

I'm pleased to say I drove the entire 6 hours (with 3 stops for food, peeing and a quick video game) as rockstar hubby was a tad sore from running the half marathon the day before. I would like to take a moment to brag that he did it in an hour and a half? Top 2% thank you very much.

So we got there to A & R's and immediately attacked Starbucks for a fix and began to unpack. The afternoon was left open to just hang out and chat. The gaffer had a 3 year old to play with so despite the few squabbles, it went well. And they got us addicted to the Bachelorette (No!!) and yes, we are following it closely and most of our conversation (rsh and I) the other morning was about the psychotic-ness of Dave.

The next day, Tuesday, rsh found himself cutting down their tree. Which was part of the plan you see. Manual labour for free room and board..and wine. Lots and lots of wine. Which meant a whole three glasses because I am a silly pants when it comes to wine. And they lovingly donated their Easter chocolates for my other fix. May I brag that it was not cheap chocolate, but the proper Lindt bunny kind? Oh, I was in heaven.

On Wednesday we got a fabulous tour of their winery and vineyard, in which I am not disclosing anything because it's none of your business, unless of course they harass me to brag about their winery. It was so CLEAN! I know that makes no sense, but I figured it would have, you know, gunk in the corners. But R is a clean freak and I suspect A as well (he irons his jeans!) and there wasn't any gunk in their corners of their bathrooms (did I mention I'm thinking of getting a cleaning person to clean my bathrooms?). Then we packed up and drove to:

THE GREAT WOLF LODGE

Dude. It was fantastic. However, we stopped at the shopping outlet mall first because I needed a fix, and gaffer was...sad that I was leaving him. Ok, I figured, he's tired. An hour later, the boys picked me up and we went. We even managed to get a room right away. It was awesome. Two queen sized beds, side by side, two tv's and a sitting room. We threw on our swimsuits and headed for the water park. Wow. All I can say is wow. It's enormous. And fantastic. And warm. And the waterslides rocked. And they had an arcade. In which rsh would routinely ask if he could go play 'Deer Hunter' as I watched the gaffer.
But the gaffer wasn't well. He was crying. And warm. Too warm.
Thursday morning I sent rsh to get a thermometer and some tylenol. Gaffer had a fever of 102. For three days.
So we packed him full of motrin and tylenol and once he began showing signs of life, we dragged him to the water park (I'm such a great parent)
And I shopped.
I spent two hours in Coach.
But I didn't buy anything.
And I went to the US, all by myself. Boy, was I given a hard time.
But I didn't buy anything. Nothing. Hard to explain that to customs. But I really didn't.
Friday, we drove home.
And got caught on the 401 for two hours. Oof.
We got home 8 hours later.
Yech.
Saturday morning took the gaffer to the hospital.
Ear infection.
Oops.

He's recovering nicely.

We're going back in November...

Freakin' Out

I found a web-site where HC is taking open submissions. Everyone can read your book, and if it catches their attention, they'll read it too.

My heart. The gaffer is my heart. But my book is my heart. I feel so vulnerable and afraid. It's not that I don't think my book is good enough. I know it is.

But what if this turns into another rejection? It's my heart.

news, news, and more news

First of all, we are being SUPER blessed with all the tree work. Actually, it's a little scary because I've managed to forget everything I know about time-management (which I admit, is not a lot, but still), I'm booking jobs in July, which means I've dealt with some very angry customers. Which I have taken personally. And managed to eat an entire chocolate bar to calm down afterwards. I've since stopped that. HOWEVER, on wednesday, rockstar hubby was rockin' a honkin tree job (two days to complete!) and everyone was working in the backyard. At 5pm I got a phone call. Someone, we figure a rubber-necker, drove by rsh's car and trailer, was too busy watching what they were doing in the backyard and took a swipe at his car. The car door and panel have been smashed in, as well as a dragging swipe up the front. And then the culprit took off. And no one saw anything. In a 40km zone. In a quiet neighbourhood. BUGGER! I was hoping at least the insurance company would say the car was undrivable and would lend me a convertible and rsh would borrow my car, but the arrogant, tattoo-covered, late-getting-to-work, 20 year old said the car was fine and it would be 1700$ to fix. !!!!! Yes, we have a 500$ deductible, but if you're going to be a dink AND not give me a car, then we shall check our other options. And all they were going to do is pound out the dent. Doesn't that mean the door is weaker?
Other news, rsh's grandma, is finally going into a nursing home. I want to point out that she is 93, is losing her mind, and lives alone. She has taken to getting dressed and waiting for her bus, outside, at 3am. And calling people in her church directory at 4am, asking when they were going to pick her up for church. So, she is going to a great home. And it is really stressing out rsh's mom, (best m.i.l ever!) but it's for the best. They will be cleaning out her apartment. Which made me uncomfortable, but m.i.l was matter-of-fact about it. And I was offered...the piano.

I am 35 years old.
I have always wanted to learn to play the piano.
Always.
But we never had money for frivolties like that.
I'm getting a piano.
It's not a baby grand or anything, it's a wall piano, but it'll be mine.

I am very excited.
And of course the gaffer will be taking lessons. And ballet in the fall. And yoga classes. All to prepare him for football.

rut, rut, rut

oof, am a little behind...

Speaking of ruts...yuck. It's sunny out. I have a new dirt pig. She still needs a name, but nothing comes to mind yet. I've given myself permission to play outside today. And yet...

blah.
blah.
blah.

Mother's day was wonderful. The gaffer and rockstar hubby made me breakfast in bed (croissants, brie, strawberries) in which the gaffer ate most of, and then I was given my gifts. The gaffer handed me a 'recipe' book of his jk class. I was like, ok, I never gave in a recipe, but ok. So I opened it and the index had a meal and the child's name beside it. So I went to my son's name, which was under 'hot chocolate'. This is what it said:

"Hot Chocolate
By Jackson

A little bit of soy milk

1) The first thing you do is pour some soy milk in a sippy cup all the way tot he top and mix it all up.
2) Then put it in the microwave for 5 minutes and if it's too hot just wait and then you dirnk it all up. (If it doesn't have the white thing under the lid that keeps it from leaking then you have to drink it slowly!)"

Of course I cried! It was adorable!

And then rockstar hubby gave me two presents. He bought me the Kerastase (sp?) oleo-relax serum for my crazy coarse hair and a new purse! The purse is something I saw about 4 weeks ago and said I liked it, and that was it. He remembered! It's gorgeous. Not expensive of course, but it's a beautiful dark cherry red. And it's huge! Now I can carry all my crap around!

But...blah.

I feel...like I need something amazing to be excited about. Maybe I'm just...I think I'm feeling really frustrated about my book. Yes, all I have to do is pick up my reference book, do some more research about where I can send it in, but...I really want closure you know? And I'm having a hard time writing. I'm sending the gaffer off tomorrow to the sitter's so I can take time to write AND write my pseudo-dirt pig...I'm hoping that while biking along the parkway I'll become inspired but we'll see.
I'm just going to go outside now.
Paint my bench a silly blue.
Plant my carrots and weed the dandelions (friggin friggers).
Stare at my peas and beans and wonder how I'm going to stake them without it being expensive or ugly (I told rsh that I love his help, but I'll do it this time. I don't want another contraption attached to our outside wall)

Maybe I'll just dye my hair dark brown tonight. I did it about 8 weeks ago, but for some reason my hair sloughs off all colour and wants to remain a weird mousy brown at the roots and a strange orange-red-brown for the rest. Ech.

addictions

I've had a pretty interesting past couple of days.

I'm pleased to say that rockstar hubby and I had a date on thursday, but only after he finished a tree job that he didn't finish from the day before. While I am giving accurate width results of the trees in question, I have been instructed to bring along a 3 foot stick to place at the base of the tree, so that RSH can figure out how big it is. No, I am not wrong, he just wants to 'see it' (on that note, i tried it out today, and left it on the jobsite...)
So we met and scooted downtown to the market and the large mall. We walked, we talked, we held hands, bought cheap Lindt chocolate bunnies (after Easter sale) and discovered...our new...favourite...restaurant.

Mambo.

We had a coupon. We got there and requested the patio, as Thursday was a lovely sunny day and whoever smoked near me was going to get it. We got there early and received the menu. I ordered the something salad which consisted of arugala, blue cheese, pear, caramelized cashews, chicken and covered in a sweet balsamic sauce which was reminiscent of Infusion's sauce on their bruschetta...it was amazing. And they have so many more things to try!

Then he let me buy him a gigantic pair of sunglasses that are so metro, they look ridiculous. And I let him buy me a fake pair of D&G which look fantastic.
Then he went to work, and I picked up the gaffer.
Yesterday morning...the boys went to cosmic, after dropping me off at my first Moksha yoga class.
Dude.
It had to be at least 40C in there. I just sat there quietly for ten minutes and I was already sweating. The yoga was hard, it was painful...I think I'm addicted. I'm a bit sore today, but I found my body wanting more. So tomorrow I will attend another 5$ intro class before church and get my fix. RSH is tres sweet to come home early to bring gaffer to church so I can attend with my friend Gigi.

Today I looked at 4 tree jobs. One of which, really, really bothered me. This guy, George (not his real name) was a piece of work. First of all, he never answers his phone. But he calls you back immediately. And I think he's technologically challenged because his voice mail consists of a hang-up when you leave a message after the beep. So then he gives me crap (a la phone) that I never answer my phone. I explained very professional-like (as I wiped gaffer boogers off my shirt) that if the phone picks up right away, we're on the other line. He didn't believe me. So he left me instructions to look at the tree in the backyard, and the one beside the driveway. I get there...he has two driveways. I kid you not. And his backyard has four trees. So I had to call him. I didn't want to, but I had to. He shows up 5 minutes later in a big expensive pick-up (jackrusselterriersyndrome) and jumps out and is 5' tall (jrts) and brings a creepy co-worker (jrts). I explain he has two driveways. He says, 'oh do I?'

Dink.

So as we walk to the backyard, I notice his german sheppard tied up to the doghouse, in a kennel area. And she cowers away as soon as he comes in the yard. Hm...and then he says in a growly voice "what are you doing Chloe?" and she begins to tremble and climbs into her doghouse. Then he mutters something about 'how she must have gotten into something" and I'm thinking, how can she? She's tied up, idiot. So I looked at the second tree, while two creepy men looked at me (no the Gabbana's were NOT coming off my face) and I left. And the poor dog stayed hidden.

Am seriously considering calling Humane Society. Why on earth would a dog act like that?

Ok, now I'm angry and depressed. Am going to read Cooking Light mag and copy recipes...

Incidentally, I'd be including internet links, but I don't know how, and it doesn't work for me...

i'm just so thrilled

that annoying stretching guy chose to sit beside me and is proceeding to let out old man farts every ten minutes. i think i might snap.

oh great. now he's singing and dancing to the oldies.

just kill me now.

hm...

ok, so i'm reading this book by Leeman, called 'first born order', or something like that. wow. wow. wow. yes, i am a first born. and at first i didn't agree with anything it said, but then i realized, how true it was. how creepily true. huh.

so it occured to me this morning, while i sat at indigo, watching the gaffer play with his playmobile, that i would be an excellent accountant. i'm anal, i like things organized (in a disorganized way), i like things done a certain way (oh wait, that's anal), and i've got a keen eye for what's wrong or missing in the picture.

if only i could add....

dream

I'm not someone who normally gets afraid.

I mean, once in awhile, when the house is dark and it's the middle of the night and rockstar hubby is at the firehall and I'm woken by a loud crash, yah, I freak out a little. Of course, half the time it was a noise I heard in my dream, but you can never tell.

And sometimes I get...nervous tension about meeting someone, speaking in public (if it's not acting, I sweat baby), discussing my feelings on a subject (hence, downward eyes and red face during bible study at 'sharing' time).

But tonight, I'm afraid.

Make that, terrified.

I need to contact the person who wanted my manuscript three months ago.

I need to contact them to get an update. It's been three months. She showed an interest, but with all of the layoffs and recession etc... what if she says no?

I know the world won't end.
I know there will be others.
But this was a genuine interest. And I'm terrified of a no.

This is my dream.

Is it time to come true?

I'm afraid the brave little girl has gone running to dive under the covers on her cloud. To hide. To not face the world. To wait until she feels better.

Maybe I'm insane...

First of all, I am so not dissing my life. I love my life. I love my family. I love where I am, what I'm doing and where we're going. Together.

But sometimes a tiny little voice speaks up inside of me.

I was meant for more.

I was meant to do more.

I feel like a little fish...waiting to get through all the crap to get into the bigger pond...does that even make sense?

Maybe I'm just freakin' about my book. Havent' heard anything yet. Waiting, waiting, waiting to send an email. And what am I supposed to say? Hi, sorry about the recession. You've had my book for three months now, anything new?

But what if she says no? What if she says, 'sorry, not good enough'. What if it's a big, resounding no?

I'm going to bed.

another blog on nightmares

i normally like my dreams. they are vivid and real and wonderful, if not strange.

last night, they were not wonderful, but instead vivid and real and very strange. i had two nightmares. and they were awful.

in the first, which woke me at 5:17am, i was being raped. in my own bed. i was fumbling desperately for the vicks vaporub to smear it into his eyes. and when it did nothing, i woke up.

in the second, i was in africa with my church. the ladies were all sitting at the front because we were supposed to sing. but i had taken a benadryll because i was very stuffy. so i snuck out to get some water because my throat was so dry. i ended up in a market. i finally found some bottled water and i looked at the time, which was noon, and i had to hurry back. as i was running back, i was being chased. three african men (not really african, they were just living there) began chasing me because they wanted me for something. i was running so fast i began to fly. i normally love my flying dreams because they give me great joy and peace as i fly. but this time i was flying to get away. and they kept jumping up to catch me. they just had to grab my ankle and then i was captured. they caught my ankle. i woke up at 7am.

these can stop now.

So why am I sad?

It's been staring at me for two years.

It's whiteness has turned dusty and gray from not being cleaned.

And I don't care.

Rockstar Hubby and I discussed it on the way back from Syracuse.

"Do you really think it's time?" he asked me. I just stared out the car window at the trees flying by, their drab branches just begging for leaves. My straw had already split from me chewing on it. I shrugged my shoulders, not really trusting my answer.
"Maybe something will happen if we do." I paused and stirred my ice. "But then again, maybe not."
He didn't say anything. He squeezed my knee and didn't say what I know he wanted to say, because it would be the same arguement all over again, with the same answer again of 'I don't know'.

I've decided.
It's done.
I'm not changing my mind.

We're getting rid of the crib and changetable.

2 blogs in 1 day??

so I'm attempting to do this 'practicing my writing' thing and i'm following along with Fiction Writer's Workshop and doing the exercises. i've decided to post what i write, regardless of whether it's good, or crap. i haven't done it yet today, but am posting last week's writing assignment. i'm supposed to be doing this daily. oops.

write about one your first memories, then expand:

"Her sandy ringlets were tucked into two loose pig-tails, fastened with big blue baubles. Little drops of the ocean fell onto her shoulders, staining her favourite blue hoodie. Her red bathing suit peeked out as she squatted on the beach, her tanned legs fringed with fine pubescence. Chipped pink toenails peeked in and out of the wet sand as the gray tide tickled her repeatedly with each soft wave. The wind picked up slightly, brushing a faint salt smell across her freckled nose, the fine sand dusting her eyelashes as she squinted. A large luminescent blue man o'war lay heavily in the sand, its dark blue veins pulsing menacingly as she watched it just two feet away. Its long skinny tail refused to be covered by the sand. It reminded her of a rat's tail, but she had yet to see one. The screeching gulls flew further away into the shadowed sun. She heard her name being called. Her ringlets trembled as she looked up. She stood slowly, rubbing her right eye with a dirty fist, and with a quick backwards glance, headed back to her grandmother's trailer."

a little behind

on the blogs...
but i didn't want to write anything that wasn't worthwhile reading, but then i realized that i am not so much writing for others (if my blog is read at all?) but for me.
look, see? i had to start a new day with a new paragraph. yeesh.

so our homegroup is starting 'The Love Dare'. yes, that's the devotional that kirk cameron did in 'fireproof'. and i'm a little wary of it, because i opened the book to check out a few pages and it seemed a bit cheesy. but we're doing it. today is day one. would you believe it's on patience?

as i sigh, i realize and of course you realize that i am not the most patient person in the world. i know that. i know i need to work on that. but it did mention just keeping your mouth shut instead of answering your spouse in a bad tone or nasty words. 'yes rockstar hubby, there is ketchup in the fridge, you just have to look for it'. we all know that men don't like looking in the fridge. actually i don't think they like looking for anything, which is why we all need a photographic memory to remind them where to look, (your wallet is under the red book, sitting beside the stack of papers, ontop of the desk in the basement that has the computer on it). i am pleased to brag however, that the gaffer seems to be developing my memory, but uses it to ask insane questions; "mommy, remember when the red one fell and you laughed, but then daisy picked it up and brought it over and we had to put it back?" er...i think i'm working for amanda priestly. and yes, i brag here saying, i do know what he's talking about. thank goodness my memory cells came back, because as soon i was knocked up, they disappeared. couldn't tell you where they went, i don't remember.

in other news: our fabulous child has an addiction to wolverine. no, he doesn't watch x-men, he's not allowed. he's four for goodness sakes. don't even get me started on how his cousin, who is 6, is allowed to watch tete-a-claque, batman (yes the new dark knight movies) and nightmare on elm street. but he now has a batmobile, sorry, the wolverine mobile, a tiny wolverine character who can, for some reason, turn his upper torso 360 degrees, and a new helmet. RSH and i were shopping on our date (my favourite thing to do, other than eating, but we did that later) and we found an insane sale on ski helmets at sports experts, where we found a helmet for the gaffer that was regular 109$ for 30$. it was camouflage and it looked exactly like a soldier's helmet. of course he bought it. so the gaffer wears it constantly and i'm to call him 'wolverine costume boy' when he does. we had a long conversation about how i would call him that, but only at home.

in other, other news: mom in law was in the hospital for some kind of chest pain attack. i don't know what the doctors will say, but it brings up the whole, 'building another house to live with the in-law thing' and while i don't mind at all, yes, it is freaking me out a little....

words not said

i don't know if it's lack of backbone or trying to keep the peace, or trying not to control the situation which prevents me from saying a lot. and i know i say a lot already, but i don't say much that involves what i'm thinking or feeling. which doesn't make much sense, but it makes sense to me. so i've decided to get a few things of my chest without being specific or using any details whatsoever.

-it makes me feel unimportant when you don't call
-i think you are a very selfish person who is completely out of touch with everyone else
-i wish you could have been more excited for me
-i can't believe we are arguing about this, especially after all we've been through
-i wish you would think of the rest of us before you act
-i wish you would thank her more
-i wish you'd stop taking advantage of her
-i wish you had really been listening when i opened my heart to you
-you are incredibly interesting but i seriously don't want to be your friend
-how many times do i have to show you the truth? you are sucking the life out of me!
-why can't you stand up to her?
-why can't you just say 'good job'
-why do you lie so much?
-i wish you'd just do what is right
-it's not that i don't want to spend time with you, it's just i have no time and you are not on the priority list
-please, please be careful
-i really, really don't want a relationship with you
-i'm not a flake you know. i'm just ridiculously fun.

ok, i feel better. ish.

You 'Could' Call it Procrastinating....

so i'm at my favourite coffee shop, having enjoyed a yummy latte (just want to say that the US makes it better, as they use vanilla soy) and am 'trying' to write. i thought of a brilliant idea. what if, i said to myself as i looked around the coffee shop being slightly irritated by men stretching over and over again, what if i RESEARCHED the top hit songs of 1988. that's the year i'm beginning with. 1988. and then i had to find all the songs from the library and you'd be surprised at what isn't available from the library! am i going to have to borrow an 'i-tunes for dummies' book and buy the songs just so i can hear them? how annoying! maybe i should look up the youtube videos and write down what i remember...ooh! what a great idea! i think i'll do that right now....

And I'm back...

I've been 'meditating' on the whole trip to Cameron, LA. I've been trying to make heads or tales of it: what did I learn? how have I grown? what bothered me? etc.

The whole trip was hard work.
I think I worked from 8:10-7 at night, every day (with the exception of needing to go to Lake Charles to get groceries and provisions for my weird eating). And it was exhausting. I slept on the floor, on an air mattress, in a sleeping bag, in temperatures that were so cold, I wore longjohns, pj's, t-shirt, sweater and toque. I slept in a room filled with boxes and drywall dust and I slept like a rock. By Saturday, I was pooped and seriously needing some r&r in Humble, TX. (which we did go to and grab a fab hotel room with M&D, then headed to the mall where I dropped 100$ on clothing items that I couldn't pass up). I had to be organized. I had to do my job. I didn't think much. Just worked. I barely spoke to rockstar hubby. We had maybe 10 minutes a day to talk, just to ourselves...

the people on the team that were there with us were amazing. it's like, God blessed each and everyone of us with a good attitude and laughter. no one's bad qualities came out and no one became annoyed with one another. and you'd think with 22 people living in the same small quarters, eating three meals a day with nighttime 'hanging out' we'd make each other crazy. but we didn't. i didn't even mind all the cleaning i did. it was just my job and i didnt' think twice.

when i look back on the week, i realize that it wasn't fun. it wasn't enjoyable. it was really hard work.

but i miss it desperately.

feb 18

February 18, 2009

I slept hard last night. M began snoring immediately, but after filling both ears with squishy yellow earplugs, I was good. Woke up to a weird dream of Jason Bateman flirting with me while I was trying to renovate a bathroom in an all girls’ school. Had yummy cereal again with blackberries, trying not to drool as everyone had biscuits, gravy, scrambled eggs and hot coffee.
This morning I went out to the site to work. I worked with Rockstar Hubby, D, H and a kid named Zach. Who, I found out later, is actually 30 years old, has two kids and is a pastor in Alberta. Oops. He looks 17. As I talked to him throughout the day, he still reminded me of a 17 year old.
We worked on a couple’s house. I hammered nails into the studs that were sticking out so they could hang new drywall. This house had been destroyed twice. Everyone’s had. There were two black marks in the duct work in the ‘living’ room. At my eye level, about 5’1” was where the water level had risen from the second hurricane, Ike. Above my head at 6’ was a mark from the first hurricane, Rita. Wow.
There’s a woman here whose birthday is today. A is 34. She has three kids, her oldest being 18. She’s single. I’m guessing she married her husband at a young age, but he shunned God. And it got so ugly that he was ‘hating’ her Christianity and her church and her family. So they’re divorced. She’s raising those three kids, by herself. Her youngest is 6. Which is so heartbreaking. But the funny thing is, there’s this guy, Ira, who is 22 and keeps coming around and flirts with her. She keeps saying things like, ‘my kids back home’ but he keeps asking her for her cell phone number. He’s so cute. Super short hair, tall and lanky, fishes for a living. He deep fried some fresh caught oysters and served them up to everyone. Dan said they were amazing. I didn’t try any, as I was not there, and I probably would have regurgitated everything onto his white wife beater.
The reason I wasn’t there, was because I was given 45 minutes to drive back, have a shower and then come pick them up to bring them back. It took me 20 minutes to get to our ‘home’. I threw water on my armpits and drove back in the torrential downpour. To discover that one of the workers, B, had split his head open when he fell. He was at the hospital getting stitches. Apparently, B is always the first to draw blood on mission trips. When he came back they had shaved part of his head and the rest of his hair was a dyed maroon from the blood. And he wasn’t able to wash it because he had to keep the wound clean. Ew.
Tomorrow is back to cooking, which I’m looking forward to. It’s nice doing some manual labour, but it was pretty boring and my arms were hurting pretty badly after all that hammering. I’m going to offer to do everyone’s laundry while they are working tomorrow. They’d probably enjoy some clean undies and nice-smelling dry towels for their showers afterwards.

feb 17

February 17, 2009

Today was a different day. It was hard falling asleep because M was snoring so loudly. I tried listening to my ‘nap’ tune on my ipod and it worked for the half hour but the bell at the end woke me up. So I repeated it, and then after the second time I turned it off as I was too exhausted to care about the snoring. It was cold too. I wore my pj bottoms, socks, long sleeve shirt, t-shirt, sweater and toque, sleeping bag and blanket. It was cold. Rockstar Hubby woke me at 6am and told me to keep sleeping as he would make breakfast. But I couldn’t go back to sleep. I had been having a dream about wearing a pink 80’s prom dress that I had ripped the sleeves off of with a pair of hot pink socks and combat boots. I was modeling for ‘America’s Next Top Model’ and was trying to prove that a 35 year old, over 110 pound woman had what it took. Jay (blond one, not other one) was impressed and then he started flirting with me as he worked behind the Starbucks counter as a barista (on the brain or what? Starbucks I mean, not Jay) And we discussed that if we ever divorced our spouses, we’d hook up...I was glad to be woken up.
After breakfast of cereal and grapefruit juice (French toast, bacon, biscuits and hot coffee for them) D and I tidied, then headed back into Lake Charles. The drive was still long, still boring, but we saw more as we knew where we were going this time. More houses destroyed. More homes built.
And then we got to Lake Charles and we went to Starbucks to check email and have a latte. I enjoyed it. Felt terrible afterwards, but I didn’t care. I really didn’t. I’ll probably care when I get back home and find myself covered in more parasites. I don’t know. Then we went to Kroger’s which is kind of a cool grocery store. When you sign up for their ‘card’, you get money off. My groceries were 5$ off, at 30$ total. D’s groceries for everyone else were 30$ off. Wow. Then a quick trip to Walmart to buy some pants as I’m working on-site tomorrow and I only brought one pair of pants (read yesterday’s blog on waking up late). This was an experience in itself. The Walmart is bigger than the biggest one I’ve ever been in. Regardless, they did not have pants for me. I had a choice between cheesy jeans with butt bling, capri pants (cute, but non-functional) and bright orange super thin ‘Danskin’ pants. I was tempted. But I went to men’s wear and scored a pair of camo, cargo pants for 11$. But the fitting rooms were locked. And there was no key to get in (no, I don’t get it either), so I tried them on over my stretchy pants. And they look pretty nice.
We got back at 2pm to a clean dining hall. And then we started cooking. We finished at 6pm. I made myself chicken salad. And I feel ok.

Introspective points: This team is amazing. They work hard all day and come back smiling and cheerful and not complaining at all. What a change from the grouchy people at home. I’m seriously tempted to move to the bible belt for a year. Tempting. Apparently Cameron just hired two full-time firefighters...

I’m going to bed.

I miss my boy.

feb 16

February 16, 2009

We decided Saturday night to just go to bed at 10 and set the alarm for 4:30am to finish packing. I tossed and turned a bit and then crashed. Rockstar hubby was in the spare room finishing off his coughing cold. I woke up in the middle of the night and then rolled over to check the time. 5:23. We had to be at our rendez-vous point at 6:30 and it was a 45 minute drive. I flew.
We got to the airport and checked in, then waited. We boarded a teeny tiny little plane with about 50 seats on it. I managed to keep my eyes closed for the hour flight. I think a rookie 12 year old was landing the plane though. It was insane. I’m so glad I took gravol because my breakfast of a green protein shake would have been all over baldy sitting in front of me. We flew up, down, side to side, sped up, slowed down. It was brutal. He didn’t get the ‘landing clap’. We collected our wits and shuttled ourselves to the right place in Philadelphia. Yes, the airport is huge, but not as huge as I thought it would be. There were stores (Gap?!) and a dunkin donuts but not Starbucks. There was a wannabe spot but I decided to forgo the caffeine fix (yes, I know I’m not allowed any but at that point I didn’t care). As we waited to be called, the ‘boarding agent’ announced that there were not enough seats on the flight and she would be calling us by zones, and if we were last in line, we would not be getting on the plane. Which freaked the four of us out by the way as we were in Philadephia, waiting to get to Houston so we could drive for 4 hours to our destination. But we boarded and I managed to sleep the entire time and we landed well. We found our group of Disaster Relief people, snagged a rental and at 6:30pm, left the airport. But first we needed food. We stopped at Wendy’s. I ate a salad. I drooled watching everyone else scarf burgers and frostees.
We couldn’t see much. There weren’t a lot of lights and not a lot of traffic. We stopped briefly at Walmart to get essentials such as sleeping bags and pillows that wouldn’t fit in our suitcases. We drove around the coast and were mesmerized by the beautiful building with lights all over them, looking like a magical fairy land of castles and turrets. Upon closer inspection we discovered that they were actually all oil rigs set up with lights all over in pretty ways. It was so weird.
We arrived in Cameron at 11pm, found our jammies and crashed on the floor.

We woke up at 6am and found that the power was out. Breakfast was cereal and juice. As we finished eating, the power came on. We loaded up and headed out to the site.

I can’t tell you the devastation we saw. You wouldn’t believe me. Every single house was destroyed. I mean, you see pictures of it on tv and they try to show the worst ones, but it’s so different when you see it in person. A bungalow would be tilted backwards, with the bottom half of the walls ripped off, the top of the siding still on. Mud was everywhere. Cars had been pushed/thrown/blows onto large cement blocks and couldn’t be removed. Every house that was destroyed had spray paint on it of the person’s name and address. One house had a large ‘Help’ sign on it. The houses being rebuilt were all on very high stilts, like starting at the third story of a house. They look like homes you’d find on the ocean, except they aren’t beach houses. They are just tall, lonely looking houses looking over the dead grass and dark muddy lakes that can’t be bothered to disappear. Everything is gray, brown, muddy...it’s bland. The main road has deep ditches of water on each side. The ocean is a good 10 km away, but you can’t see it for all of the dead reeds, grass and trees. The hardware store is just stilts and a roof. Under the roof are tables with boxes of supplies and bright lights shining on them.
Myself and D dropped off the men at the work site. The church.
In Cameron, they were ravished by two hurricanes. Practically everyone had their house built again when the second one came through. The people are so polite. So kind, so friendly. But so tired. So...hopeless. RSH and M got to talk to a family across from the house they were rebuilding. The father was a fisherman. Well, he fished for oysters, then for shrimp. RSH said he was so friendly and polite ‘yes sir, no sir’. Puts all of us Canadians to shame I think.
But today, I felt useless. I tidied and organized the kitchen. Then we drove to the nearest town, Lake Charles, which was an hour drive, including a drive over an insane bridge. Spent 20 minutes trying to find the health food store to find out it was out of business. Ran to Walmart and didn’t buy everything because we were running so behind. We had to rush back to make dinner.

grumble grumble

So I went to see my dr today. Dr. steve. He's awesome. He's a jolly 40 year old (maybe older, I can't tell) who races motorcycles all over the world. He's never been harsh or mean or not listened. So I talked to him today about all of this naturopathy stuff.
He is thankfully sending me for an insane amount of bloodwork (ie diabetes, thyroid, liver, kidneys blah blah) to see what's going on. He doesn't think the naturopath saw parasites, neither did his college, who just finished her degree in microbiology, but he wants to know what she saw. He was very patient and explained that there probably are some trigger foods out there causing me grief, but I shouldn't be using the vega-matic to find out what they are. I got the 'eat healthier' talk and I guess I can agree with him there. Stick to foods you can pronounce, stay out of the middle aisles in the grocery store...more water in your diet.
Verdict? I'm going to finish the parasite drugs because hubby already bought them and they seem to be helping me out. It's all natural and it's basically garlic which is good for you anyway.
I'm going to make my own bread today, healthy of course, no preservatives and I'm going to try a piece this afternoon. See what happens.

let the doubting begin...

I've been on this crazy diet for 6 days now. I have 7 weeks and 2 days to go. I don't think I'll make it. And do you know why?
Because I don't know how anyone can live like this.

I'm doubting what the naturopath saw in my blood sample. But when I look for info on line, they tell me the same thing. But the 'parapurge' I'm taking tells me to eat whole grains. But she tells me not to eat wheat. So I don't understand. I don't understand, I don't understand.

I bought two more recipe books and they seem a bit better. It is so hard to find anything on line. It's a lot of researching and chasing down leads and I'm not getting paid to do it, so it's exhausting. I'm trying a cinnamon-raisin-nut bread made with bean flour, tapioca and cornstarch. I'm not 'supposed' to have corn, but I figured it took me about 20 minutes just to make the thing and it was only to need an hour to rise, but it hasn't risen so I turned the light on in my oven and hopefully it'll rise...if I eat it and get sick, I won't eat any more. Rice bread is just so disgusting.

And I'm angry. And I'm tired. And grouchy. And irritable. And sad. This blows.

trip to naturopath

Ok, for the record, I was totally skeptical. But hopeful. And excited.

The first thing that threw me off was how freakin' cold it was in the office, which was actually a health food shop. A small one. And we had to pay for parking. Not impressed. I filled out the elaborate questionnaire, which seemed to keep asking the same questions over and over again (maybe to trip me up?) and then the 'receptionist' spent quite a bit of time trying to figure out how to work the coffee machine so rockstar hubby could have some of their 'free organic coffee'. But the coffee machine kept leaking water so I made him stop so we could go upstairs and see the naturopath.
First thoughts? She was fat. I don't use that word lightly, because it's mean, but she was (according to rsh) 320lbs. And she was treating me? Hm...warning signs went up.
So then my feet get put into a foot bath (I can't remember why) and then she had me hold an electode and then check my food/environmental sensitivity issues. And everytime it groaned at me, I was not to have that food for the next 8 weeks. I am currently off of:
turkey, all dairy (including yogurt and sour cream), corn oil, currants, cherry, grapes, plums, cranberries, kiwi, all crustaceans (ocean cockroaches), peanuts, hazelnuts, walnuts, pistachios, flax, chocolate, cocoa, carob, pine nuts, pecans, cabbage, endive, corn, mold, msg, coffee, black and green tea, tobacco (don't smoke), wine, beer, glucose, sugar, molasses, dextrose, artificial sweetener, all wheat, spelt, kamut, quinoa, tofu, basil, pepper, chili, clove, cury, juniper, nutmeg, rosemary, sage and a whole crap load of preservatives.
Then I had blood work done. We had an arguement over which blood type I was, as I think I'm on AB but she swore I was on O, because my blot wouldn't clot. My blood very rarely clots, it's annoying. Anyways, then we looked at my blood under an insanely strong microscope and I got to see all my red blood cells swimming around and my super round white blood cells. And the parasites/worms feeding on my red blood cells. Oof.
So now I have parasites.
So for the next 8 weeks (7 weeks and 4 days to go) I'm on parasite purging drugs and insane vitamins and off all those foods.
I seem to be doing okay. As soon as the appointment was over, I made rsh stop at Starbucks for my last latte. I enjoyed it. And then I had the insane stomachache that has been plaguing me for two weeks.
So I've been going crazy trying to figure out what I can eat. Answer? Not much. Nothing I 'want' anyways. And yes, there is still chocolate in the house. And yes I salivate when rsh comes home with coffee breath. But after the first day of headaches, I'm ok. I can eat without keeling over in pain. But for some reason, my legs hurt. A lot. So I went to the gym to work out, thinking I was just stiff, but I couldn't run. I couldn't use the weight machines. The weights I was 'pumping' was like, 30% of the usual amount. I'm so sore. And my hips hurt. It hurts to lie in bed. What's up with that? Nothing else hurts...it better be a side effect.

And this Sunday we fly to LA for a mission trip to rebuild houses. Should be interesting....

It's about time....

why did I wait so long?
Maybe I didn't think it would really work?
But after so many years of pain and ick, I'm ready to do it.

Going to the naturopath.

I don't know if I believe it. I know I get uncomfortable around all those aromatherapy, coloured stones, reiki crap...but this is different. I'm going to be tested for a ton of food and environmental products, and figure out which ones are causing so much grief to my poor belly.

I can't wait.
I don't care if I have to give up chocolate.
I don't care if I have to give up caffeine.
I don't care if I have to give up, dare I say it out loud? Venti, soy, no water, no foam tazo chais....forever

if I never have to feel pain again.

Secrets our Husbands Keep from Us.

Everyone has secrets. I'm not big on secrets, because then you're not telling the truth, but then there's the line between not telling the truth and it being none of your business.

I don't think I have any secrets from RockStar Hubby. I tell him everything. The only thing I think I keep secret are my thoughts about clothes. Yes, sadly, I will meditate on clothes. Clothes, make-up, shoes, new haircuts...I don't divulge that information. When he asks me, 'What are you thinking about?', I just answer, 'girly-stuff' and leave it at that. I think he would think I was crazy if I answered one day, "Oh, I was thinking about that yellow shirt I saw in the Vogue magazine at the gym? Well, I was thinking about how the yellow was good, but not for me, maybe it would suit someone else, but the ruffle around the neckline was kind of nice, but maybe if the whole thing were in pink and then you'd have a biased cut around the waist so you could hide your muffin top, but then if you had gold earrings, they'd have to be a cool gold so it could match and I think I have the perfect earrings upstairs, but I don't have the shirt. And I was thinking about my feet. How much I like them when they are hairless (don't ask, I wrote about it earlier) and all painted up and now that they're tan from our trip, they look so cute in my new shoes...."
He'd run for the hills. Or mock me for being vain and self-centered.

But today.
Today as I folded laundry...
I folded his underwear as usual, and put them away.
I tucked in his socks and put them away. But then I saw something in his sock drawer. My heart skipped a beat. It was a baggie. Thoughts ran through my head. Was he a secret junkie? It would explain his calm demeanor which I always stacked up to being a God-lover. Could it be present for me? No, he always keeps those in the attic (no, I never look!). My cold fingers reached in and slowly pulled it out. It was heavy. There was something heavy and silver in it. Could it be that gorgeous expensive silver necklace I was jonesing for in Mexico? Should I put it back? Nah, I'll just take a peek. I held the baggie in my hand and felt its weight. It was really heavy. I moved into the sunlight to get a better look. I slowly opened my hand...

it was a baggie of nuts and bolts.

what is the dealio, emilio?

i hate worrying.
i'm quite terrible at it.
i've had a lot of practice, but i just can't seem to get it down.
you'd think i'd have a 6-pack with the way my stomach clings in knots.
you'd think i'd lose weight from the sweating i do.
but no.
all i have to show for it is a few more wrinkles and some crazy dreams.

(speaking of crazy dreams, i'm so mad at myself because two nights ago i had the most brilliant dream and it was a fantastic story and i woke up thinking, i have got to write this idea down! it would make a great movie! great plot! but i couldn't be bothered to open my eyes, grab a pen and find some paper to write it down. nah, i'll remember, i thought to myself. yah right. sadly, i don't remember and i'm not happy about that. yes i now have paper and pen beside my bedside. but last night's crazy dream was interrupted by gaffer waking me, to tell me there was an alien in his room with two mouths, two eyes and a lot of tentacles and he went, 'eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee' etc. )

and i'm embarassed to admit what i'm worried about because it's ridiculous and so many people should have worries as i.
i'm worried about our trip to the mayan riviera. i'm worried i'll vomit all over the plane (it's happened before), that we'll get on the wrong bus, that i don't speak enough spanish (dora only provided a tiny tutorial, you understand), that we'll get a room where maggots live in the bed, that i'll get the runs (of course it's a great way to lose 5 pounds), that rockstar hubby will be bored, that it'll rain too much, that we spent too much... yes, i'm ridiculous.
i'm worried about the gaffer at nana and papa's. not because i don't think she'll take good care of him, but that because we're taking off to LA (that'd be louisiana, not las angeles) exactly 19 days after we get back, he'll grow up in therapy because we were 'never around'.
and then there's the worry of wondering if i did the right thing? (personal issue, none of your business)

i'm ridiculous.
i admit it.

i'm going to the bathroom now.

Really weird dreams...

For the past two nights, I've had very strange dreams.

I always have strange dreams. And what's even more annoying, is all I do is dream. You know those people who can go to sleep and wake up 8 hours later and wonder what happened? Not me. I dream alllll night. I never stop. And it can be incredibly annoying. Mainly because I'll be dreaming and then I sit up in bed, half awake and start yelling. "Gaffer, don't touch that!" "Neurotic dog! Off!" "Rockstar Hubby, what are you doing?" Etc. And many time the gaffer will be in danger (in my dreams) and I'll wake up and begin to get out of bed, but then I have the sense to remind myself that it is 3am (I always look at the clock) and that he is in bed, safely sleeping and not walking out the front door in his pj's.
I tried looking up some info about gaffer's dreams (as I have mentionned in previous posts) and it seems that I 'lucid' dream. Which means, I know I'm dreaming and I make decisions. They say in dreams, you can tell you're dreaming because when you touch something, your fingers go through it. Well, I must transport myself to another universe because I 'feel' everything.

Anyways, so two nights ago I decided to indulge (gorge) myself on Ruffles with dip. Then I decided to take my vitamins. Of course I had heartburn but I was too tired to get out of bed and go get some rolaids or something. I could have kicked rsh to go get them, but I'm not that mean. So I dreamt about being on 'gossip girl'. I don't watch the show. I did at first and then rsh stood there watching me, hands on hips and said, "why are you watching this crap?" and I had to agree, it was indeed crap. So I don't watch it anymore. But I was on it! I was going to meet my buds Serena and Blair.

Last night I had homemade baguette (don't get me started on the breadmaker issues) and some olives and blue cheese. I had three dreams last night. In one, some guy from my old high school was studying with me and he was trying to kiss me, and I was all worried about my breath (???) but then he kissed my neck and he was like, rubbery-lip man. It was gross. And I really didn't want to kiss him anymore because then I'd end up with a lot of saliva in my hair and eyebrows. And I hate saliva in my eyebrows. The next dream, I was at Starbucks, MY Starbucks, and they wouldn't serve me. I was like, 'Hello? Make my drink!' and they just looked at me like I was dirt. (which is interesting because this morning, I am here and they didn't have soy and I was like 'what? No venti, soy, no water, no foam tazo chai? what's wrong with you?' and I had to have crappy green tea because I can't drink anything else and they tried to get me to drink Lactaid and I'm like, 'Hello! Can't drink it! Makes me yak!' and they didnt' believe me and I'm kinda mad at blond girl right now for not believing me, but whatever. And my third dream was a God dream. I don't have many of those and I wish I would because they are super cool, but they leave me super exhausted in the morning (case in point, serious headache this morning which latte will not make better. Oh, their delivery came and I got my soy). So last night, God told me that I was to go on a quest to go find someone to bring back to Him. I was to track them down and go get them and convince them to come back. But guess what? I woke up before I was told who it was. Now how infuriating is that? Could it be more elusive? Grrr... Usually I have dreams about fighting Satan and his evilness. And that gives me a headache until bed that night.

Speaking of sleeps, the gaffer woke up two nights ago and came into my room and he was freezing cold in his new crazy-cute one piece with footies jammies. So I put him in his proper thick flannels and he hasn't woken up since. I mean he wakes up in the morning, I'm just talking about waking up at night. Oh never mind.