Serendipity

I want a prettier blog...

2010-07-20T18:08:00.003-05:00

I keep seeing these beautiful blogs with beautiful pictures uploaded on them and then people have wonderful things to say on them.

I do not have the brains to do that.
Nor do I have the followers to bother.

Am tempted to copy everything I've written onto a word file and print it off and then stop blogging, with the exception of thedaringkitchen because their stuff is so good. Or maybe I should just stop cramming myself full of things to do.

Or maybe I'll just not do anything of the sort...

The Daring Kitchen Challenge - Nut Butters

2010-07-19T15:52:00.003-05:00

The July Challenge is brought to you by Margie of More Please and Natashya of Living in the Kitchen with Puppies.

This challenge was super-fun and exciting. I had to borrow a friend's food processor only to discover it didn't work. Oof. But my trusty little one did just fine.

I chose to make the cashew butter, and use it in the shrimp asian noodle salad. This was the end result!

Not bad eh? My only issue was that the shrimp I took out of the freezer had freezer burn and the only thing opened was M and M so I bought pre-cooked shrimp and just added it. So the shrimp was actually a lovely gray colour. Er-lack. But it was tasty!

Plan B

2010-06-30T10:36:00.003-05:00

Everyone needs a plan B.

Especially when they're a grown-up. Ick I hate that word.

So I had to sit back and think, 'what if? what if this doesn't work? what can I do to make a contribution?'

Let's be honest here. Rockstar Hubby is indeed a rockstar, but even he can't climb trees for the rest of his life. He needs to focus on the fire department and writing his promotional exam and the gaffer. And he wants to get back into Timbersports. He's worked two jobs for a long time now and with the gaffer starting school full-time in the fall, who am I not to contribute.

So what if the books don't do well?

I know they will. Deep way down deep in my heart, I know they'll do well. It's not something I worry about. I gave it all up to my Maker and He's taking care of all of it. So what's plan B?

Plan B will be yoga instructor.

I've always enjoyed yoga and there are some teachers out there I do not care for as they are not compassionate, nor do they go around the class and re-adjust your pose. Plus, I really don't care for the whole, 'find your own energy' crap. God's giving me plenty of energy on my own, thank you.
So before the book started its roll uphill, I had chosen yoga. So if it all falls down, yoga.

But I prefer to write...

The Daring Kitchen Challenge #2

2010-06-21T11:40:00.007-05:00

I hate that this post is late. I don't like being too busy for things.
Ok, so here we go.
This month's challenge was to make pate and bread. This challenge got me very excited because I absolutely adore pate, especially with brie and baguette! Our hostesses this month, Evelyne of Cheap Ethnic Eatz, and Valerie of a The Chocolate Bunny, chose delicious pate with freshly baked bread as their June Daring Cook’s challenge! They’ve provided us with 4 different pate recipes to choose from and are allowing us to go wild with our homemade bread choice.
We were given the opportunity to do a couple, and I chose the chicken liver pate. Of course being an inexperienced cook, I did have some issues.
One recurring theme that seems to be prevelant, is that I need a food processor. I have a teeny little dinky one that I bought to make baby food, and it did just fine chopping up beans, peas, spinach, broccoli... but I had to process bacon and bacon and more bacon.

So, first I cooked the chicken livers. It took 4 grocery stores to find them. Farm Boy. Who knew? (Am taking a frustrated moment to say that my pictures are not uploading properly. I apologize in advance for this craziness.)

Then when they started the cooking, the smell was absolutely horrendous and I convinced RockStar Hubby to cook them for me. He did so willingly. Then I tried shoving all the bacons into the food processor and that just made a disaster. So I took them out and then tried chopping them all into fine little bits. Ha! Then I threw everything into the bowl, along with the pureed chicken livers. Then I couldn't find a proper mold for it. So I figured I'd put it into the smaller roasting pan and then put that into the larger roasting pan as it needed to cook in water. Two and a half hours later, it smelled great!

The baguette, I was allowed some free reign so I made my usual baguette with flour, salt, yeast and water. I threw the whole thing in the breadmaker and let it mix it and then instead of letting it rise for just half an hour, as it is supposed to, I let it rise for ten hours. I don't usually plan on letting bread rise for that long, but I always manage to forget about it. But it always turns out light and fluffy so I'm never concerned.

And here's the finished product. At the top of the page of course, because these pictures uploading are not listening to me...

A trip to North Carolina

2010-06-12T16:40:00.003-05:00

I find it bizarre that I never blogged about our trip to Paris. Because I figured I wouldn't stop talking about it. But I didn't. But that's for another time.

The gaffer and I are currently sitting in a Starbucks, somewhere 3 hours from Winchester, Virginia. Rockstar hubby is at some non-descript garage about 4 km away, getting the wheelbearing fixed on our car. We were supposed to be in Winchester at 6pm. It is now 5:42 and we still have three hours to drive. What's even more amusing is that the other wheelbearing went on the drive down to North Carolina. This is fun.

We left on Friday morning to go to Gaithersburg, Maryland after a 9 hour drive which actually took 13 1/2 hours to discover the wheelbearing was broken. But there was a Ford dealership two minutes away so rockstar hubby planned to go first thing in the morning. We stayed at the Marriott and I'm sorry to say that at 10pm, one does not want to go into their room to discover it smells like marijuana. So then we changed rooms and got to bed at 11pm. The next day we were on the road by 10:30am (after 300$! and as I write this? the non-descript garage is fixing it for 60$.) and arrived at North Topsail, North Carolina at 7pm. And it was perfect. We immediately threw on our bathing suits and ran down to the ocean. Perfect. Perfect salty smells, perfectly disgusting salty taste and a sunset in the sky. We then spent 6 full days alternating between the ocean and the pool. It was fabulous. The boys went to see the North Carolina battleship and took a million pictures while I hit the mall. I bought a pair of skinny jean capris (not too bad) and a cute pair of sandals. And then they went to see Shrek 4 while I bought a pair of sandals and a pair of Spetty Top-siders (both plaid and never noticed) and got some writing done.

Not much else to say. I burnt my bum? We're on our way to Niagara Falls to the Great Wolf Lodge for a few days and to see our lovely wine friend Andrew who owns a lovely winery. Home by Wednesday I think.

Gardening Time

2010-05-26T17:59:00.003-05:00

I had planted all my tomatoes, petunias, delphiniums, lupins, portulaca, asters etc before Paris. After Paris, they all died, with the exception of the lupins and two tomatoes.

Naturally I had to go buy more.

I hate garden centers. They always make me want more. Some women go crazy for shoes, purses, um, lipsticks... actually I'm not totally sure what women go crazy for besides shoes. I wouldn't know, I don't go crazy for shoes. I mean sure, I see shoes that are pretty but I'd never wear them. I'm very picky when it comes to shoes. And then I see the shoes I have in my closet and it's like .. ok, you have no taste.
Oh yes, garden centers. It took a lot not to buy a ten dollar peony. I already have three in my garden. I've already purchased two japanese maples because they were twenty dollars each. And two rose bushes. And two flats of pink impatiens. And a flat of red geraniums and a flat of pink. And white. And today I bought lobelia.
Because I'm trying that integrated gardening thing. And it's actually starting to work. But it's been so freakin' hot (30-40C every single day) that I don't last long. I'm always busy in the morning and you know my backyard in a freakin' sauna. It had to be 50C back there today. I thought I would die just planting and weeding. But I'm starting to make little foot paths because I'm tired of rockstar hubby saying, "Can I step here?" and then I have to look and either roll my eyes and say 'yes of course' or start yelling at him to watch where he's going. So I'm lining my little dirt footpaths with dark blue and fuschia lobelia. I'd upload a pic but I'm too tired and I feel like watching the Office even though I've seen every episode known to man.

And I should probably do some writing...

The Daring Kitchen Challenge

2010-05-19T19:14:00.005-05:00

So recently I stumbled across a neat website, called The Daring Kitchen. And for some reason, the link thing isn't working. Here's the website... http://www.thedaringkitchen.com

And when you sign up to become a member you get to do a kitchen challenge (whether baking or cooking) each month. Every person then gets to do a post on it. So this one is mine.

The challenge for May was 'Stacked Green Chile and Grilled Chicken Enchiladas'. I have no idea if I'm supposed to post the recipe or not, but you can go to their website to find it yourself.

So here's a picture of the outcome.

How it went:

First of all, I needed tomatillos. Tomatillos do not grow up here until late summer and I tried growing my own last summer but the frost killed them. I was told by Farm Boy that I had to wait another month. So I substituted yellow tomatoes. Because they looked good and had that nice squishy feel to them. The recipe also asked for Andile Chiles. I have no idea what those are, nor could I find them. So I bought jalapeno. That was mistake number one. I did manage to get rockstar hubby to burn and blister them on the bbq alongside the chicken (I bought thighs instead of breast because they were on sale and I'm on a budget). I also bought 'Food for Life's' corn tortillas, instead of making my own. I cooked the sauce, (it took two servings of the cornstarch to thicken) and then popped it in the oven. I could not find the oven temperature on the recipe for the life of me, so I figured it must be 350F. Mistake number two. I found it later when I reserched the recipe from Fine Cooking and found it was supposed to be 450F, but my oven is hot so I put it at 400F.
Results: it smelled good. Taste? Not so much. I found it bland with jalapenos. I think maybe the tomatillos would have tasted better as well as whatever those chiles were. Bummer. It sure looked good. Guess I'm not a genius in the kitchen after all....

not much to say

2010-04-29T08:24:00.000-05:00

except we leave for Paris in 6 days....

:)

You know when you're happy?

2010-04-24T06:44:00.002-05:00

And God is just pouring out blessing after blessing? And then after awhile you get the bad stuff too, but you don't really notice because you're just so grateful for the blessings that your throat constricts and your eyes well up and all you can do is look heavenward and praise God for His awesomeness and beg for more blessings?

It's been like that.

Don't get me wrong, there have been issues. The Christmas lights are still up, making us redneck neighbours I think (but it's only 9 more months until we can turn them on again!), the house is a disaster. No spring cleaning done here. I still have clothes to go through, a basement to clean out, a vanity that has yet to be installed even though we bought it two years ago, a garden to tend, a book to write, a garage door to install, a patio to install, the fence will have to wait another year as the tax man came a knockin'.

Hm..

It was a bright and sunny day
and though I was content
I knew the dreadful day was coming
in a thick white envelope was coming
the tax man was a coming
with a statement to shatter us all.

That was my little diddy ode a la Tennyson. I think it was Tennyson. I'm sure B will correct me if I'm wrong.

But how could I not be happy? Paris in 11 days. The book is going well. It's sunny and beautiful. I have a robin living in my backyard.

All is well.
For now.

at the garden center

2010-04-08T12:19:00.003-05:00

upon leaving the cash, the gaffer and i noticed a picasso-ish statue of a naked woman, her arms missing and her breasts lopsided.

gaffer: did you see that statue?

me: i did

gaffer: she had ... (mimes breasts sticking out with hands)

me: a chest

gaffer: yah. but it was gross!

me: (trying not to laugh) no it wasn't

gaffer: yes it was gross.

me: it's a statue honey. a picasso themed statue. it's art. you don't have to like it, but some people do.

gaffer: (shaking head) not my cup of tea.

I have a confession...

2010-04-01T14:30:00.002-05:00

Ok, first of all? I realize it's super beautiful out (whoever heard of 20C the first day of April?) but the ladies can put their clothes back on. Ick. Skin everywhere.

Anyway, my confession is I used to have a thing for 'mods'. Now back then that's what they were called. Mods, goth...etc. Now I think they're called Emo but they don't dress the same. It was the jeans (not supertight thank you) rolled up to make room for the 18 holed Docs, the white ripped t-shirt, tattoos (around the arm were my favourite)and skull stuff.

I had a friend once. Let's call him... hm..I need a good goth name because he himself had a good goth name. Ah...let's refer to him as 'K'.

I met K at a bar I was working at near the University. Now I had dropped out because I was seriously failing and I needed the income. So I bought myself a motorcycle (Yamaha Secca 650 1984 thank you very much) and worked nights at a bar. Well, K came in one night, Tuesday night I believe because Tuesday nights are cheap quarts nights (large bottle of beer for 2$ - yes I'm dating myself). He always ordered Canadian. Ick. I preferred 50 but that's besides the point. And he had very straight, very long blonde hair. It was gorgeous. He said he used Timotei. Remember that stuff? Anyway, I thought he was so hot.
Turned out he was a drug addict and couldn't be bothered to chase me so I never did anything. But he did dedicate a song to me. He didn't actually write it or sing it, Pearl Jam did, but it's something that when I hear it, it makes me think of him.
Anyway, I'm writing today and I just saw a mini-version of K. Except he had black hair with dyed red ends. I had to remind myself that's the old me.

I prefer my rockstar Hubby with the honkin' muscle-y arms and firm belly. Um...I have to go now.

this week

2010-03-29T06:47:00.002-05:00

Rockstar hubby's grandma died. She was going to be 96 two days later. On the way to the funeral:

gaffer: how did great Nanny die?
me: she was asleep and then she died.
g: but how did she die?
me: in her sleep.
g: no, how did it happen?
me: well, she fell asleep and God sent an angel and he took her hand and said, 'It's time to go Thelma. Time to go home.' and she said, 'ok' and they went up to heaven.
(pause)
g: that Jesus! He's too miracle-ey for me! I love that guy! He's the best!

so it was a good wake and a good funeral. it's easy to forget how wonderful RSH's cousins are. i wish i saw them more. it was definitely an emotional funeral even though she was terribly old. she was wonderful and funny and very much loved by all her children, grand-children and great-grandchildren.

what was the most disappointing though, was that very few of 'our' friends actually made an effort to come to the wake, or the funeral, or to even acknowledge their sympathies. but a couple did, and it surprised me because i didn't expect that from them.

so that begs the question: were those people who came brought up properly or are we being shown who our true friends are? not bitter, just wondering about it all.

Still Warm in March...

2010-03-17T13:58:00.002-05:00

Not that I'm complaining. I've been raking up old dead leaves and leftover stems from coreopsis gone by and I've already filled a yard waste bag. And I've only done one garden bed! It is so wonderful to see the purple and yellow crocuses (crocii?) waving at me from the lawn. I'm making Rockstar Hubby wait until they're dead before digging up the sod to make a new garden.

As I was raking, lovely thoughts came to mind. My favourite being:

'If my cellulite is an explanation for all the lovely chocolate and red wine I've enjoyed, then I enjoy the reminders...'

Happy cellulite everyone!

Spring is in the air

2010-03-13T11:05:00.002-05:00

I'm sure everyone is going to be blogging about it. I have to tell you though it doesn't smell like spring. There isn't that lingering fresh earth mixed with old dog poop in the air. But the snow is melting and the ground is dry and there are teeny tiny buds popping up in the ground. I think they're crocuses in the backyard.

I'm really, really excited about it. I have so many new plans for this year. I've decided to eschew square foot gardening and instead till up the ground. I have a large section that they all sit in, about 12 x 15' which I can probably squeeze to 20 x 20 when rockstar hubby isn't looking. I've been picking up books on potagers and I have grandiose ideas of planting vegetables within my flower beds. I also have a basswood twiglet in the ground, waiting to grow. Of course RSH will have to do the grunt work, but I don't think it'll be that bad. I know he's itching to play with a rototiller, so we'll just remove the boxes, till up the ground and plan. I've already started my geraniums (for the front window boxes and yes I know I've always complained about them in the past, but I just can't get past the bright redness of them that you can see a mile away) to be planted with some cut ivy that is growing wildly in the bedroom. Wave petunias, portulaca, two different kinds of asters, delphiniums and lupins... I'm still waiting for seeds from Vesey's and I might overdo it but I don't really care. I'm so excited to fill the gardens with beauty and now that the gaffer is 5 1/2 (good golly, when did that happen?) I can watch him less. We also have a new fence being put in and our patio! I can't wait to be walking on stones instead of gravel! And with the new fence, we are going to extend it down alongside the house to the very front so that we have an entire area dedicated to shade. It's in-between two houses and faces North, so it never gets any sun, but it makes for lovely coolness to sit in and sip green tea lemonade.
And strawberry season is coming. Oh the jams I want to try. Actually, I'm lying. I'd rather drink strawberry lemonade. If only it came sugar free! And no, I'm not doing aspartame or splenda or stevia. The stuff is vile. Even though I hanker diet coke sometimes.
But how am I supposed to get all that done? I have to write another book within 6 months. We're leaving for Paris in May, then North Carolina in June. I think housekeeping will get worse. But maybe I'll start doing my laundry at the laundry mat so I can get it all done at once and then do paperwork while I wait. Hm...hm...But then no clean clothes on the line...

I really need to move somewhere where there is gardening all year round.

update

2010-01-29T14:27:00.001-05:00

My dad's doing better.
He looks better.
He might be going home today...

that would be good for him...

And I've been sleeping like a log. How nice...

12:33

2010-01-26T00:40:00.002-05:00

I haven't written lately for a good reason.
I'm afraid to.

My dad is in the hospital.
He has been for 8 days now.
And we're not really getting any answers.
Well, I'm not.

He went in last Sunday, I'm told, because he had the shakes really badly.
What I have been told is that he has type two diabetes. Normal for his age.
That he has an enlarged prostate. Normal for his age.
He has an abscess on his prostate. Normal for his age.
He's blind in one eye. I guess from the diabetes.
He has a staph infection in his foot. From not treating it properly I guess.
He can't close his left hand...

That's all I know.
He's had so many catscans and mri's and eye exams.
Why don't they have any answers?
Why is he still in the hospital?
I understand he's on major antibiotics because of everything but...

When I went into the hospital to see him, I didn't recognize him in the bed. I argued with RSH that it wasn't him. But it was. His hair was so white and his body so frail.
And I'm ok. Really.
I've asked God not to take him until he's saved.
But that's not something I can really talk to my dad about.

Is there something they just aren't telling me?
I wish I would know.
I know it doesn't seem serious, and it's not when you look at the facts.
But he looks so old.
And so tired.
And I know it's his fault for not taking care of himself. For never going to a doctor. I mean, what do you expect?

And I trust God. I trust God so much.

But that doesn't stop the constant nag, the flitting thoughts that cover over everything I do or say.
It doesn't stop me waking up in 12:44 with a knot in my stomach, wondering what's wrong with him.
It doesn't stop me wondering if he's scared.

Dad's aren't supposed to be scared.

I know people have dads that are sick all over the world. I know that some people have lost their dads due to accidents, sickness or old age. I know people have gone through so much worse than me, have hurt more than me, have gone through hell and back.

But this is MY dad.

And I guess at 12:48 I can finally acknowledge that I'm scared.

Alcohol

2010-01-06T19:00:00.001-05:00

me: What did you make there, bud?

gaffer: it's a robot that turns into a gun.

me: oh, that's neat.

gaffer: His name is Alcohol.

me: What?!

gaffer: It's because his dad used to drink a lot and he made a lot of bad choices...

ah, the pride.

Tree is almost down

2010-01-04T17:04:00.002-05:00

But it seems to take 4 days to get it all down. Too lazy I think.

Gaffer's first day back at school. Two conversations I had to record for prosperity.

Gaffer: Hey Haley, want to see the gun show?

Haley: Teacher! Gaffer is talking about guns!

Gaffer: No, the gun SHOW! See? (kisses biceps)

Later on during drama...

Teacher: Ok everyone, let's pretend we're eating Christmas dinner! Ok, now we're all tired because we ate so much!

Gaffer: I'm actually not tired. I ate everything in moderation.

Teacher 2: Did he just say 'moderation'?

Teacher 1: Yes, yes he did.

Ah, the pride!

New ideas spinning around head:

-party ideas for book launch
-where to go for vacation this June. Rent a cottage/condo in Florida? Anywhere hot and near ocean?
-debating buying land and building new house in two years.

The idea of moving doesn't even faze me. I'm so used to it. I mean, the longest I've stayed in a house since I was 18, which would be awhile ago, is 4 years. And that was only one house. The rest of them have meant moving yearly or monthly. But RockStar Hubby is thinking about land. And a home. With a rink. And a pool. And acreage. Should probably fix this one up to par first...

Happy New Year

2010-01-01T09:57:00.002-05:00

Yes, it's that time of year where everyone blogs about their resolutions, what they'd like to change, blah blah.
Well, I'm doing one too.

I don't really have any resolutions, because I always mess them up. I think I'll call them goals.

1- I want to get down to 135lbs. As of two days ago, it would be 15 pounds to lose. But given it was that time of the month, I may have gained a few. Let me go check right now. Oof. Nope, 150. Too much Christmas junk I think. I begged rockstar hubby to buy me some 10lb weights (yes, I may be a tad over, but I've got the guns already baby. If I wanted to push it, I would have asked for 25 pounders. I'm just saying...bragging) and I have a ball in the basement. No excuses. And for the first time ever, I'm going to write down everything I eat. And cut back on lattes. No really, I know you laugh, but I was up to two a day. So comforting in this cold weather. But RSH has discovered Teaopia and it's amazing! It sounds ridiculous to have a shop just focused on tea, but it has 100 different teas, all loose leaf and I'm happy to tell you that my earl gray that I normally throw 2 tbsp of sugar in, tastes AMAZING without the sugar! So creamy and sweet. I think it's because there aren't any checmicals...regardless, 15 pounds. By April 15th.
2- I want better quiet times with God. So I've set up my library and will be brewing my teaopia and coming in here to attack it with passion. And possibly blog about it now that I have a new notebook upstairs. To write my new book with. Um..
3- Venture out the house more. I've become a bit of a homebody, which means I haven't really been interacting with people, making new friends. Email is way too convenient. So I'm going to try and have coffee with someone new, once a month. At least.
4- Start another book. I have no idea what's going to happen with this one, but it's not even coming out until Christmas. I have eleven months to go. That's 335 days-ish. So do I start the prequel or something entirely different? No idea, but I must write daily.
5- Have an amazing time in Atlanta. I'm so nervous because I don't know what to expect, and being a control-freak that makes me a little crazy, but I'm going to pray for patience and guidance and just have a great time. We're rebuilding homes of people who need God and who need help. I kind of hope I'm cooking again because I love cooking, but we'll see.
6- Have an amazing time in Paris. I'm nervous about that too. So far away. For a week. In a new culture. All alone with RSH. Well, at least he's a grown up. He'll take care of me.
7- Grow up a little. Not too much though. I mean...I'm timid. Wait that doesn't sound right, stop laughing. I want the 'balls' to say 'no' to telemarketers, to say 'no' to things I don't really want to do and to tell friends when they hurt my feelings or do something awful like neglect my birthday or that I even exist. Why do I have friends like that? See #3. And before you get all weird on me, I'm not having a pity party. I just want to be more brave. I hate confrontations and I hate telling me that they've hurt me. This year, I will. Maybe.
8- Drink more tea.
9- Get RSH to read a book. The man will not read. He reads the bible and for that, I'm grateful. He's read my books, all two of them. But I want him to like reading. I broke out the last Harry Potter to bribe him. It's not working. Yet.
10- Try a new recipe a week. Read my cooking magazines and leave the fashion ones alone. For now.
11- Because I need something for the gaffer: teach him flowers this year. Don't ask.

Ok, I have to go because I need to drink my tea and do my quiet time before The Office marathon starts.
Happy New Year

Happy New Year

2009-12-29T17:29:00.001-05:00

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

2009-10-14T22:19:00.002-05:00

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...

2009-10-01T19:01:00.002-05:00

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

2009-09-02T09:08:00.001-05:00

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

and now for your viewing pleasure...

2009-09-02T08:38:00.003-05:00

this is why I married him.

The gaffer is 5

2009-09-02T08:26:00.003-05:00

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

2009-08-26T09:32:00.002-05:00

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

2009-08-26T08:42:00.001-05:00

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

2009-08-16T18:36:00.002-05:00

"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...

2009-08-15T10:48:00.002-05:00

...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...

2009-07-22T15:36:00.003-05:00

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...

2009-07-03T22:26:00.003-05:00

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

2009-07-03T10:50:00.002-05:00

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...

2009-07-03T06:36:00.003-05:00

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

2009-06-30T15:57:00.002-05:00

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

2009-06-25T16:35:00.002-05:00

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

2009-06-23T12:58:00.002-05:00

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!

2009-06-03T14:00:00.002-05:00

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

2009-05-16T19:05:00.001-05:00

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

2009-05-15T08:34:00.002-05:00

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

2009-05-12T09:08:00.002-05:00

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

2009-04-18T18:41:00.003-05:00

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

2009-04-02T11:03:00.002-05:00

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...

2009-04-01T14:35:00.003-05:00

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

2009-03-29T18:15:00.003-05:00

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...

2009-03-21T21:59:00.002-05:00

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

2009-03-21T07:40:00.002-05:00

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?

2009-03-20T10:19:00.003-05:00

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??

2009-03-10T11:40:00.002-05:00

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

2009-03-09T13:17:00.002-05:00

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

2009-03-01T20:21:00.002-05:00

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....

2009-02-26T13:06:00.002-05:00

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...

2009-02-25T15:52:00.002-05:00

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

2009-02-19T09:25:00.001-05:00

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

2009-02-18T13:57:00.000-05:00

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

2009-02-18T13:56:00.000-05:00

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

2009-02-13T12:00:00.002-05:00

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...

2009-02-12T12:36:00.002-05:00

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

2009-02-09T14:42:00.002-05:00

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....

2009-02-04T17:05:00.002-05:00

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.

2009-02-02T12:24:00.002-05:00

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?

2009-01-13T09:58:00.002-05:00

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...

2009-01-05T11:12:00.003-05:00

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.

Happy Christmas and New Year's

2008-12-31T11:38:00.003-05:00

what an insane Christmas.

the plan:
-take it easy!
what actually happened:
-chaos

So rockstar hubby's step-dad went in for knee surgery around december 16th. things were going well until the 23rd. He woke up in the middle of the night and was paralyzed from his neck down. He went to the hospital, then another hospital. We waited anxiously to hear what was going on. They thought he might have spinal meningitis blah blah. Immediately we were praying (of course) and wondering what the future would bring. Would we need to sell the house and move in together to take care of him? Would he be able to work again? Where would we move to? What would this mean? Etc.
Christmas eve morning rsh's mom called and asked if we could drive out to her house and pick up the 25lb turkey sitting in her garage and would we please host Christmas dinner? Sure we would. Then we got to spend an awesome lunch with friends of ours that we 'tricked' into having a little party so we had somewhere to go. It was a lovely time and at 3 we went to my parents. Which of course was a tad chaotic. We got home at 9, put the gaffer to bed and sat down to two and a half hours of putting together the Playmobile honkin knight's castle. We got to bed at midnight and at 7am I was in the kitchen preparing stuffing and getting the bird in the oven. After opening prezzies (my hubby is so good to me) I cooked. And cooked, and cooked and cooked. RSH's family came over and we had a lovely time eating. Well, they did. I cleaned and cooked and cleaned and washed and put things away. But it was nice.
Boxing day involved nothing. Which was kind of nice because we didn't have plans, but we sat at home doing pretty much nothing. Then RSH had to work the evening shift so I found myself wandering around aimlessly, wondering what to do. The tv won my attention.

So now, the eve on New Year's, we find ourselves with a quiet night and wine to look forward to. Step-dad has been moved home with an iv of anitbiotics which follows him around and strict instructions not to visit until next week. So today I will relish my writing time at coffee shop. If I can tear myself away from the internet...

Another reason I love Rockstar Hubby

2008-12-22T14:34:00.001-05:00

He's building a snowfort for the gaffer and himself to play in. Right in the circle of our street.

Merry Christmas

2008-12-22T10:21:00.003-05:00

I know.
It's been too long.
I'm actually surprised myself at how long it's been since I've been here. It's not like my life has not been interesting or challenging. It just never occured to me to blog about it. So here goes. In short form. Or point form. Some kind of form.

-I've been exhausted for about 5 weeks. The gaffer is having nightmares again. But this time he climbs out of bed and runs into my room, climbing into bed. I'm trying not to let this become a pattern. I don't want him sleeping with us. I don't sleep when he's in our bed. He moves too much. But right now, starting last night, I let him stay for an hour. And then instead of having his usual 5 nightmares, he had two. But he moved the entire time he was in bed. I'm discovering that I no longer sleep between the hours of 1-4am. It's starting to take its toll. I crave caffeine now.
-Christmas is coming! yay! Presents are wrapped, I'm going to bake a birthday cake for Jesus to bring to my parents, my brother may not show up (that's fine)and I have a lovely Christmas eve lunch with our good friends.
-I bought rockstar hubby that remote control flying helicopter. You know the one. Not the cheap 20$ one, but the 'mosquito' one where it requires 6 C batteries and a 9 volt. I bought it. I must be losing my mind. but he's going to love it.
-update on Jackson and His Great-Aunt Harriett. I don't believe in jinxing anything, but I haven't mentionned anything because I don't want to believe it to be true. Because if it doesn't happen, I know I'll be devastated (oh the pains of being a drama queen!). But an aquisitions editor for a lovely company sent me an e-mail and told me she liked the book and that it wasn't something they normally publish but she wants to see if there's room for it. She's meeting with the publishing crew after Christmas. Yes, I'm losing my mind. But the best part (apart from possibly being published) is that she wrote me the most amazing letter. She wrote that I was like 'Lemony Snickett without the gloom'. How's that for a compliment? And she said I had a unique voice...with potential. wow. Even if I don't get published, that was the nicest letter I've ever received. Yes I will be framing it.
-we're going away in four weeks. I can't wait. I just don't know where we're going yet. We're somewhat limited as it ain't that warm in Cuba and DR in January. So we've got Jamaica (muchos denaros) or Mexico. but if we fly to Mexico, that's about 5 hours of flying and I will need to be put to sleep or in first class so I don't yak all over everyone. I hate flying. Why does everywhere lovely have to be so frickin' far away? Why can't I just find a place where we will get an exclusively fabulous room with a fabulous beach with business class flying for under twelve hundred? Hm..
-might be going to Texas in February with Disaster Relief team. Am having serious doubts as to leaving gaffer alone for another week, four weeks after vacation. Is my heart worrying too much?

ok, i have to write now.

what's in a name?

2008-12-07T16:46:00.002-05:00

Well, it was six days late.

I'm never late.

It freaked me out completely.

I had nights of glowing pleasure as I imagined a little something growing in my belly and dreamed up names of 'Nina', 'Joon', and 'Raven'.

I had nights of waking up in terror, pleading to God not to let me be pregnant.

And now it's here.

Probably a good thing. Someone would have me put to sleep if I named my child one of those names.

and on a more serious note...

2008-11-29T20:19:00.003-05:00

I seem to be nesting.

I wouldn't even know what that was, except when I was very, very, very, re: very pregnant, I nested.

It started off with bringing the Christmas village out and putting it on the fireplace mantle (with the huge mirrors over the fireplace, it looks amazing). And then I sent rockstar hubby out to put up the lights on the house (note: they need to be fixed. They are all crooked and silly-like and I'm embarassed to turn them on as I am the daughter of Clark W. Griswald. No, I'm serious. You have to meet my dad.)then I 'made' a Christmas wreath which doesn't do it for me, so it's over the fireplace too.
But then I found my chest of magazines. The gaffer immediately announced it his 'treasure chest' and I emptied it. I organized my 'Cooking Light' from 'Bon Appetit'. And realized I am seriously in back-order reading denial. So I placed them in my lovely bookcase. But then I had to organize my books in the bookcase. And then I had to empty the other bookcase so the first would look full. And now I have an empty bookcase. While I have so many more books downstairs, I wouldn't necessarily bring them up because I don't read them often and I can't bring myself to get rid of them. So I brought up the videos. All of them. And then I realized how hideous it looked to have a gray bookcase full of VHS (you can buy them cheap!) so I put up pictures and frames in front of them. And then I had to move the couch. And then I started throwing things out. Can I just say it's 8:23pm and I started at 3:30? I can't stop. I ate supper, but I ate it too fast so now I'm running around and some kind of weird adrenaline with my tummy burping up icky green peppers (bloody sauce).

And then I found the bag.

The plastic Walmart bag that my friend had given me because she was finished with using the gaffer's newborn clothes.

The smell hit me like a tidal wave.

Baby smell.

I lovingly pulled out each outfit, did up all the buttons and snaps very carefully, and then held them to my face as I breathed deeply. I could remember the smell of my baby, when he was oh-so-young and I was so-out-of-my-mind with exhaustion. And as I sniffed slowly, remembering, my uterus ached. I unrolled the little sockies (yes I know they are 'socks' but you can't call them anything else when they are that little) and stuck my fingers inside. I never put socks on the gaffer. I was always too busy smelling his feet.

And it made me think.

How I'm 'due' for that time in 4ish days. But my breasts don't ache. And I count back to fertility time and we had done it twice. I remember praying that night, "Please God, don't let me be pregnant. I don't want a baby. I've changed my mind. But Your will, of course."

And here I am sniffing socks.

Last week, rsh and I went to a Christmas party and I got to talk to a casual friend of mine. She has 4 kids. She gets pregnant by just looking at her husband. I asked if she was having more. She tossed her beautiful head back, laughing out loud saying, "Of course! And what about you?"
I explained the situation.
Of course she laughed and told me that as 'soon as you stop trying, your body relaxes and it'll happen more easily'.
I wanted to slap her. And I love her. A lot. But I wanted to slap her.

I very much dislike smug women. I've always told myself if I ever have another child, I would never, ever say to a woman, 'oh just relax! blah blah'. My body, my state of relaxation/hornyness(sp?)/excitement/exhaustion has nothing to do with anything. It's all God's will. And that's what I want. His will.

But right now, in the dark of my dining room, the faint glow of the living room calling me back to be cleaned some more, right now, where no one can see me, my heart aches.

Dare I say it?

I want a baby.

Things you only see at Christmas time

2008-11-29T12:53:00.002-05:00

Without stating the obvious lights, trees etc...

-large Tiger head on a fleece blanket
-coin distributors (gee I wish I had one of those!)
-antler headbands (who doesn't own one of those?)
-egg nog (which replaces lemonade. good luck getting a green tea lemonade)
-45 different kinds of Lindt chocolate
-animal head slippers
-fruitcake
-those blanket/housecoats for women who sit on the couch all day in their nightgowns and complain they're cold
-jewellery with tweety bird heads
-polyester sweaters with embroidered cats
-sweatshirts with wolves or loons (oh wait, that's Northern Reflections)
-a globe in a swivel stand that has a secret compartment for booze
-very large jewellery armoires (for all those tweety bird earrings and necklaces you collect)
-boardgames you've been searching for over the entire year
-8,000 different kinds of cheeses (but they are mostly goat's cheese or brie mixed with 1,000 different herbs ie goat's cheese with parsley, goat's cheese with parsley and garlic, goat's cheese with parsley and garlic and paprika, goat's cheese with parsley and garlic but in a red container...)
-large red bows for the front of your car
-large singing/rotating/dancing santa claus' that make you crap your pants when they start up as you walk by
-nuts, nuts and more nuts. And of course they haven't come up with a decent nutcracker yet unless you're popeye
-large fluffy dogs in different colours for only $9.99 (we have three)
-hot pink Barbie/Dora/Princess chairs for little girls (only $49.99!)
-singing/twinkling/vibrating - socks/ties/pins
-bright red sweaters with fake white lace around the colour that grandma's wear only one day a year
-hand cutters that cut plastic for all the plastic containers on all the packages you buy
-scented pinecones
-advent calenders with cheap chocolate
-mounds of nail polish/emery board packages
-cheap bbq utensil kits

ah well...hopefully I'll only receive one of the above...

gluttony at its worst

2008-11-27T20:31:00.003-05:00

in 3.5 hours i've eaten:
-some chips and dip
-three chicken strips and two handfuls of carrots
-7 sugar cookies (homemade last night)
-half a chocolate bar
-vanilla yogurt with granola
-piece of toast with peanut butter

I must be pregnant.

HAH!!!

secrets i keep

2008-11-25T13:41:00.002-05:00

Ok, so i drove all the way to value village today to use my 'Boo Bucks' that I got in october. this meant i had ten bucks to spend. no snow storm was going to keep me home.
i went in, toured around and filled my cart.

and then i started sneezing.

a lot.

and sniffling. and crying with itchy eyes.

i'm not allergic to anything. but i couldn't figure this out. am i sick again? my nose itched, causing it to run and sneeze again, my eyes itched which leaked, thank goodness i left the mascara at home.

so i went to the washroom and grabbed some toilet paper to blow.

no, they don't use charmin. no they don't use cottonelle 20 ply that will not only caress my butt hole, but also caress my nose.
so i blew into hay and it didnt' do any good.
so i just kept sniffing and snorting and rubbing and wiping.

i decided to try on the clothes and just get out of there.

and i sneezed more.

with no kleenex.

i took off my sock. and yes, i blew my nose into it. can i just say that my sock is 100% super soft cotton? it felt lovely on my nose. and then i put my sock back on and jammed into my shoe.

and then i sneezed again.

i eyed the clothing sitting there. i felt all the fabric.

i found a hideous blue t-shirt (why did i pick it?) and felt it's downy-cottoness. it was worth 8$. surely no one would buy this. would they?

why am i attracting these freaks?

2008-11-21T10:46:00.004-05:00

rant-time:

Ok, seriously, what is it with men who stretch?

I'm already avoiding weird-o guy whose pants are too tight and wears ugly socks and never shaves his face. Who is always yelling on his blackberry about houses and talking to people like they are idiots and he's always stretching. You know that guy-stretch? Where they stand up and groan a lot like they hadn't peed in a long time? And then he lifts his arms waaay up in the air and stretches and then his shirt goes up and I am exposed to brown-y skin with a lot of hair and black lint in his bellybutton. And it's like I'm supposed to swoon or something?

Ok, so I've been avoiding him. Wouldn't you?

So now there's a new guy. Who now joins me at MY writing table at Starbucks and he always sits right across from me so now I make sure my headphones are in and my music is loud so that when he talks to me, I can ignore him. Pretend I can't hear him although I'm not really pretending because all I can hear is the bass of Nine Inch Nails (why oh why did you evolve Trent? You're so sucky now!)I've already had a quick conversation with him, when he decided to ask me what I was doing. Writing. Hello???
So this guy is older, which is a tad creepy, and he doesn't shave either, a bit more creepy, and he's always STRETCHING! Makes this loud groaning noise like you make after a really great fart, (don't lie, I know you do it too) and stretches his arms up, making a big show of 'look at me stretch!'

Why? Why do men do that? I even got rockstar hubby doing it the other day, his arms way up in the air, grunting like a pig in heat (not that I've ever heard one) his shirt slowly going up and made him stop by punching him in his rockhard 8 pack abs (yes, yes, I know you're fit, now shut up about it). Then we launched into the whole 'why do men stretch and groan' conversation, ie me ranting and him watching CSI over my head and nodding in the right places. He finished my ranting by telling me that maybe the men were trying to get my attention because I was so hot.

Well, he did shut me up. I think I'm catching on though. I wanted to talk about Grey's Anatomy and he started telling me how pretty my hair was. I stopped talking. Hm...

ballet, toronto, atwood and shakespeare

2008-11-20T10:19:00.002-05:00

I feel guilty about writing a funny blog today because of yesterday's pain. As an update, I met with her yesterday and told her about a great counsellor. And she was all for seeing them. And then at the last second, she backed out. I guess she's not ready. And I don't know what to say. Except, I'm here for you.

So tuesday night was ballet night. I love ballet night. I hate getting ready and driving there because I'd rather stay at home and snuggle with my family, but I went after missing three sessions, due to the teacher being sick, me being sick and the gaffer having issues.
There was only three of us that night, which is fine. One girl is from Toronto and she's quite the character. When she first showed up she turned to me and started telling me about an article in the Globe and Mail about Margaret Atwood and then she started defending her work and she got all hot and bothered. And as I'm looking at her smiling, I'm thinking:
-why are you talking to me about Atwood?
-I don't like Atwood. I don't understand why she writes. It's so pompous and annoying and she puts in things that are ridiculous.
-Why are you getting all excited?
-Do I look like I read the Globe and Mail? (is that a compliment?)
-Why is she still talking to me?
-And why is she wearing the full pink ballerina tights and shoes and flowy skirt and why is her make up so dark?
-Why am I still smiling?
-Why am I not arguing how crappy Atwood is?

(yes I know, I'm about to castrated from society for not liking Atwood because 1) she's a writer and 2) she's Canadian.
I don't care if people are from Canada. I'm not going to a movie, a concert, read a book because someone is Canadian. Don't even get me started on Jann Arden. I have a few choice words for her. But that's another story.
Can I also say, as a writer, and yes I classify myself as one even though I haven't published anything professionally YET, I don't like Shakespeare. I think I'm in trouble on that one and I think B and Zuzu are just going to have to agree to disagree with me. Why don't I like him? Just one reason. His characters irritate me. No seriously! The women are all cowards, (Oh I cant' tell him how I feel!) they are depressing (why won't he pay attention to me? Maybe I should just kill myself!)The men are either sexually charged up and need to make dumb comments about everything or they are idiots! The ONLY character I even remotely could appreciate, was Mercutio from Romeo and Juliet. Sure he was a jokester and a bit of an a$$, but his final line, "A plague on both your houses!" meant he finally got it! That he was wasting his pride on fighting a war with another family that he didn't even CARE about, that he realized that Romeo was an idiotic moony teenager who couldn't make up his mind on what he wanted, and at that moment, when he was stabbed, he just realized that his life was WASTED! A plague on both your houses! May both families suffer because I am about to die for nothing! Nothing of importance! The only thing I'll be remembered for is about having humour, that I was secretly in love with Romeo so that must be the reason I put up with his moods, (or maybe it was because Romeo had money?)I used to be a good swordsman but now I'm not because I lost, and I made good hot buttered toast! He realized his life was a waste! No one else did! Ok, I'd better shut up here, because I am ranting and given my two buddies are 'in luuurve' with Will, they may send me hate mail. And that's not the point.
What was I talking about?
Oh yes, ballet.

So the two ladies there, we are missing two as well, are chatting. For some reason I'm the only one married and with a child in this group. Did I mention i'm the only one over 30? Anyways, they are talking about this website for singles. I won't mention it because I don't want to give them credit for anything. Anyways, one of the girls, we'll call E, met two guys on this site and is apparently 'seeing' one of them. So Ms. Toronto decides to try it out. She now has a stalker. He found out her facebook, her msn and her work directory and keeps harassing her. Note to the notsowise. DON'T use your real name!!! duh!
Anyways, so we're bending and stretching and I think, hey, i'll go on the other side of the bar today because my right side is waaay more flexible and whatnot. Wow, was that hard! anyways, so i'm bending my back in ways i never knew possible (and once i feel better, i'll show rockstar hubby my new moves), but then she (the teacher) has us doing jumps. You start in first position, hands behind back like chickens (except it's a french word. a la poulet?) and you jump up into the air as high as you can and land in second, toes pointed the whole time and you must land gracefully. That worked for two jumps. Until I peed myself. Oh Kegel's! You've failed me again! So now I'm so embarassed by this dark stain (not huge but I could see it in the mirror, If I looked hard enough) and I start to laugh. Big mistake. I start landing harder like an elephant (and I just want to point out that I don't 'look' like an elephant)and I start laughing harder because I look ridiculous and I pee a little more. So I stop.
So now my back is sore, my butt has a cramp from some kind of jete-ing behing my back (I have no friggin' idea what it's called - but you know that butt cramp you get when you're...getting it on? same spot) so i'm laughing even harder, and now I have pee on my tights.

A story

2008-11-19T14:52:00.002-05:00

Once upon a time there was a beautiful girl.

And this beautiful girl had a terrible secret.
Her father was psychotic.
When the girl gave her life to God at her boarding house school, he beat her.
When the girl fell in love at 16, her father locked her up in her house and threated to kill her.
But love knows no bounds, and that girl climbed out of her fortress window, and ran away to be with her love.
This beautiful girl moved in with her older boyfriend and they both worked full-time to pay their bills.
Two years later, they were married.
Her husband announced they were moving to Canada. So she went, begrudgingly.
She got a job within the first two weeks as a greeting hostess. She sucked it up for two years.
She got another job, and another job and another job and another job.
Where was her happiness?
And where was her love?
Her husband had failed. Her husband had a dark secret.
He liked to drink.
And he like to hit her when he drank.
A lot.
She tried to escape.
He hit her.
She tried to kill herself.
She was sent to a shrink.
Eight years later she has two beautiful children, and he still drinks.

And as she talks to me, with quiet sad eyes, she asks why her life has amounted to nothing.
I can't tell her she has a husband who loves her. I tell her her life has amounted to two beautiful children. She wonders if she can keep them safe.

But she won't leave him. And she won't take the phone from me as I hot dial the interval house.
I show her a bedroom waiting for her and her family.
And then she goes home.

I can't do a damn thing until she lets me.
So instead, I just pray.
I pray for her.
And I pray for him.
And I pray for the clenching in my stomach to go away.

A new job

2008-11-04T14:15:00.006-05:00

So rockstar hubby has been run off his butt with tree jobs. Which is awesome. But, he's soo busy that he doesn't have time to look at all the tree jobs. Which brings moi into the question. I go look at them, talk to the homeowner if needed, take pictures and then show rsh. And if we get the job, I get 25$. Yay. I'm a part-time worker! With benefits!

It's an unusually warm day today. 17C on November 4th. How bizarre. Especially since about 4 days ago it was -5C. And a week ago we had a huge snowstorm/windstorm which knocked down some trees(goodie for us!) so I can't complain.

My birthday was yesterday. I'm now 35. I think that's a marvelous age. I don't mind getting older at all. Granted, I read a quick article yesterday about some kind of miracle skin cream (which I ignored) but they said it gets rid of 'crepe-ey skin around your decollatage'. What? I'm going to get weird skin on my boobs? Interesting. Will it look like crepe paper? Or will it just look like crepes in which I will need to add some strawberries and whip cream. Er...we won't go there.

So now comes the big reflection of the year. Which I do every year. So let's break it down.
This past year I have:

-really enjoyed my friendship with the gaffer. this kid kills me he's so funny. today there was a worship song on CHRI and they were singing, 'there's no God like Jehovah' and he laughed and said, 'they're singing the chihuahua song!'.
-i like the fact the my two bestest friends are my hubby and the gaffer
-i ran another City Chase. And failed miserably. i mean, i finished, but that was not my goal. i wanted to win this stupid thing. wanted to be better than 5th. but we weren't.
-i finished my book.
-i attended a writer's conference and despite my knee-knocking and sweating like a pig, i approached 7 people about my book. three bit. i'm so proud of me. and i met two fabulous people. one, an author whom you can read about at fictionmatters.blogspot.com and an editor of a fabulous publishing company which i'm hoping will pick up my book but even if they don't i still admire and like him a lot because he's goofy and his blog is thesearebooks.blogspot.com
-i decided to start another book
-i healed. a lot.
-i don't need to control as much. and when i get controlling, i realize it and tell myself to knock it off
-i found a fabulous new restaurant in which i frequent and am known my name now
-i love my rockstar hubby even more
-i battled emotionally about having another child. i think the answer is no. but you never know
-i planned a bunch of events at our church and they all went fabulously
-i like me

ok, that's enough sentimental crap.
here's a video that kills me.

I don't know how to upload videos. or links apparently. maybe next year

Not a lot going on

2008-10-27T06:24:00.002-05:00

Oof.
Ok, I really haven't written in awhile. You forget how easy it is not to blog. Maybe I've been too busy? Maybe I've had nothing to say? I don't know.
I almost came downstairs last night to do some blogging. For some unknown reason, I woke up at 3. Wide awake. Didn't fall back asleep until 5. I kept thinking. And not even of important things, which is quite sad. Did I have a babysitter for this day? Did I have something to wear? Are we going out too much next week? Etc. Sad. I tried praying for awhile, but my brain kept slipping into weirdness. And I kept having to sneeze. So that didn't help.
Now it's 7:30 and I'm struggling to stay awake. Supposed to go to the gym today but my house is a disaster. And I'm having company for supper.
Wow. This blog is boring.
I've been doing quite a bit of researching into my own life for the next book(s). I'm kicking myself now for having thrown out my journals 4 years ago. I did so because I didn't want to have the reminders. And now I'm ready to remember. But I did find an old book of quotes I collected and am remembering why that one and what I was thinking. And I'm going through an old book of poems. So I'm remembering a lot. And I'm not slipping into any icky zones without being able to come out. I'm copying old cd's onto my laptop to bring me back there. Music always reminds me of things.
Gaffer is really enjoying school. I love watching him write his name. Rockstar hubby is insanely busy with tree work. And I'm not complaining!

second thoughts, my brain is too tired

2008-10-08T09:06:00.001-05:00

grrr...
i'm thinking too much. i hate it when i think too much because then i second guess myself. i've written in large letters, 'just write'. grrr...grr....grr.....

conversations with my gaffer and God

2008-10-07T09:49:00.000-05:00

gaffer: Mommy, I want to bring my real Pirate Treasure Chest
me: what are you talking about?
g: to heaven. You said, God had toys for me to play with in heaven.
me: yeah.
g: but I want to bring my own Pirate Treasure chest
me: why don't you ask God?
g: (eyes closed tightly) God, can i...
me: may I
g: may I bring my Pirate Treasure Chest to heaven?
pause
me: what did God say?
g: He said yes.
me: did you say thank you?
g: thank you God. (pause) He said 'you're welcome'.

La-la-la

2008-10-02T10:14:00.002-05:00

I'm bragging.
I wrote 5,000 words yesterday. And I have to say, it was tough, but I got through it and I was able to come back to reality instead of staying in that dark place.
Last night was fabulous as three other couples dressed up and we went out with rockstar hubby for his birthday. My mom brought me back a gorgeous dress from Italy and after putting a slip under it (ah, that's what they're for) I looked hot.
Dinner was Thi Fusion and it was amazing of course and then we went to a bizarre movie. It was 'burn after reading' and I have to say...yuck.

So off I go to ignore the housework and run errands.
Tomorrow I get to pull apart the backyard veggie garden and maybe part of the porch. What will I uncover?

Er...

2008-09-26T15:54:00.002-05:00

As the gaffer and I left the grocery store, an elderly woman passed by us. She said, "pardon me, little one" to the gaffer.
The gaffer turned to look at me:
G: why did she say, pardon me one-one?
Me: no, she said, pardon me little one.
G: I'm not that little!
Me: no, you're not, but you're littler than she is
G: (looking at the back of her as she walks away) She has a fat bum!

Cue biting of tongue and trying to keep straight face as I give him the hairy eyeball.

distracted, frustrated, needing direction in a serious way

2008-09-25T12:46:00.002-05:00

so now that the first book is off in the universe at the mercy of publishers, agents and God, i have to work on the second one. And the second one is doing well, i guess. but now i'm torn. how to finish it?
do i sell it as adult fiction?
do i re-write and add how God came into the picture? (i think that's a yes)
or do i re-write, adding God, keeping the grit and making it a teen series? would teens read about a growing up older teenager who becomes an adult series? would they even be interested? what if each book didn't have a happy ending until the very end? could i even make it a series? i think i could. but would they want to read every gory detail, every real detail about every single character that the heroine encounters? would it be too abstract?
i'm in serious need of direction because right now i have nothing and i don't know where to take it and if i don't have a direction or goal, i have no ending to look towards and so right now i am not writing.
instead i'm pretending to do ballet practice and i must say, it's going badly.

Shocked, doing my civic duty. Why do people treat firefighters badly?

2008-09-24T11:54:00.002-05:00

So I went to the library this morning with the gaffer. As we walked in, I could smell a very strong gas smell. You know the smell when you first fill up your car? That clean gas smell. I walked into the front door and the smell went away. Huh. I collected my books and went to the counter and talked to the librarian. She came out with me and the smell was gone. Huh. She looked at me like I was nuts. Fair enough. I usually smell strange things that no one else smells.
So I let neurotic dog out for a pee while gaffer climbed a huge rock and I could smell it again. I walked over to a dodge charger sitting in the parking lot and when I got two feet away, I could smell it again. I smelled her engine, her trunk...it reeked. So I called Rockstar Hubby, who just happened to be at work. He told me to look underneath and yes, I could see a leak. So he hung up and called the fire department around the corner. They came by. During this time, the lady had yet to return to her car.
Of course I felt ridiculous. I felt like I was making something out of nothing. But RSH comforted me, and the boys didn't mind.
So they came.
And her car was leaking gas. Not entirely unsafe, but if someone dropped a cigarette, the car would catch fire. Should I go inside and get her? Of course, she should know she has a leak.
I found her and apologized profusely for my worry, told her it was nothing to be concerned about, my husband was a firefighter, the men that were there were my friends blah blah. She gave me a rather cold look and said, "I wish you had told me first". I slunk back to my car.
After a few moments of the men talking to her, I drove away quickly. She scowled at me.
Ten minutes later I got a call from RSH.
"Good thing you called", he said. Why?
"They had her start the car to see how bad the leak was, and she was pretty crusty. When she started it, the gas streamed out in a steady leak so they yelled at her to turn off her car quickly. She drove away instead."
What???!!!!
So now the FD have called the police as they had her licence plate number, and the police will probably wait at home for her.
Watch her own a pot plantation or something....

Ha!!!! Crusty cow.

gettin' er done

2008-09-16T10:43:00.001-05:00

I can't believe I've been cleaning for almost three hours now. I've actually filled two garbage bags full of garbage, of things that no longer have a place in this house. I actually filed bills, receipts, notices, warranties and our insurance forms. I actually found our will kit. (why haven't we done that yet?)

I threw out old flours, rice and oatmeal. I organized my tupperware.

It's happening.

Domestic goddess...

What's next?

2008-09-16T06:39:00.002-05:00

I'm finding myself suddenly at a loss of what to do with myself.

The book is done and gone. I don't 'feel' like working on the other one, even though it could be the one to get published.
I don't feel like painting anything.
Rockstar hubby mentionned focusing on ballet. But I've just started. Should I get passionate about something I'm only doing once a week? Maybe. I'll see after tonight's class. And how passionate can one get if there's no way it would become a profession and if there is nowhere really to practice. RSH offered to build me a wall of mirrors and a barre, but seriously, I can't see myself sharing space with the gunfights and ziplines in the basement. Although it would be interesting to try.

So for today, in all of its coldness, I'm going to work on the garden. Time to rip stuff out and chop things down. I don't know where I'm going to put it all, my bins are already full and I have no trailer.

The gaffer's off to school again today. Thankfully I bought another uniform because I forgot to wash the other one. He'll have a good day.

lazy or busy?

2008-09-12T06:54:00.003-05:00

I'm becoming lazy.

Or is it that I'm just too busy?

I don't recall being busy, I don't really see anything 'accomplished', but at the same time I haven't had a chance to read either. Hm..

My tomatoes are pathetic. I have not done any gardening, including watering since we've returned from the cottage at the end of August. But it's been raining. But I've lost my 'want' of tomatoes. I did manage to plant my beans and they are growing well, but I'm not seeing any flowers. The cucumbers are too big. The leeks are mushy (how did they get mushy? how is it I'm buying my leeks to make soup?), my tomatoes are either cracked, moldy or aren't ready yet. My pumpkins are still turning orange. My watermelon disappeared. And I just sit back and look outside and think, "Meh". It must be the cooler weather.
I'm determined to start making my own bread. In the past ten loaves I've purchased, the first 5 were moldy by day two, the others were stale and yesterday's was moist, but half way through the loaf there was a big hole right in the middle. You can't eat sandwiches with a hole in the middle! I'm determined to make my own. But not the super yummy kind of cinnamon and raisin or the tempting rosemary olive. I'm going to find a recipe for whole wheat, flax blah blah. No really. I'll do it. I just have to get to bulk barn.

I want Fall.
I want the cool weather in the morning that gets warmer in the afternoon. I want slow leaves changing and I want ample opportunities to go crunching down the street in my running shoes. I don't want snow until december. I think rockstar hubby doesn't want snow until January so the tree work keeps coming in. And I'm praising God by saying, it keeps coming in.

I've started a ballet class...
it's amazing. It's brilliant. We're all adults and the other girls aren't little sticks. They're normal, like me. And it was fun. And hard. And amazing.

Things getting finished.

2008-09-09T10:58:00.003-05:00

The sunroom is finally finished. It looks amazing. I managed to incorporate the two 'styles' of it being a comfy room to sit and read, and one to just eat chips and watch movies. Oh, excuse me, watch CABLE! Rockstar hubby did a brilliant job, even though it took forever. So today I'm supposed to be tidying the house, put things away etc....but I had to get my novel off.
And I did.
I took that jump and I emailed it off.

To find out that one of the interested parties no longer works there. Oh crap.

So I shed my two tears, maybe three, and now back to faith. See what happens.

A fudge. I need to shed another tear. Pardon me. Talk amongst yourselves.

updates are late in coming

2008-09-05T16:49:00.002-05:00

So much for blogging everyday.

Tuesday brought us gaffer's first day of JK. He was very excited to go and loved his uniform. When we met the teacher he gave her a hug, removed his hat and sunglasses and blew me a kiss good-bye. Then he proceeded to dance in the middle of the room. I think he'll be fine. No tears on my side. I think I'm more excited that he'll learn things instead of thinking 'my baby's growing up'.

Wednesday brought us B's birthday. She killed chickens and we met her and her hubby for dinner at Thi Fusion for lovely food and lovely wine, followed by lovely clothes shopping. How could I possibly have a bad time?

Thursday was gaffer's second day of school, and he learned 'bonjour, mes amies'. Which I'm thrilled with. Oh, and the letter i and the letter u. Fabulous. I even went for a massage. And it wasn't so great. I don't get it. I laid down, it felt nice, but it didn't feel relaxing. It was just...boring? I think maybe she didn't have magic hands. Although it's not like she did anything wrong...maybe because there were no smelly oils? Hm..

Rockstar hubby has been working like a maniac at trees. Our sunroom is in a holding pattern as we wait for the cement to dry before laying the laminate flooring. I can't wait to have my space back! Oh, and we've broken down and we're getting cable. It's been...hm...actually, we've never had it in our 11 years together. Hm...well, it's coming and it's the cheapest and least channels and that's the way I like it.

Have been procrastinating on cover letter for submitting book. I need to make myself sit down and write it. Tried to bribe B to write it, but she said we needed to write it together, and she's terribly busy being a successful jam/jelly/tea biscuit seller at the Farmer's Market. Perhaps tonight while rsh is at men's ministry meeting.

In other brilliant news: WE GOT OUR FREAKIN' BACKPAY!!! Could it have taken longer? Yes, it's been since 2003 since the last contract and now we get the raise and the backpay and I am soooo happy! We're heading to DR in the spring, and hopefully see our two Compassion Kids and have some seriously needed R and R. And the cloud bed will be paid for. yay!

a mother's moment.

2008-08-29T17:50:00.002-05:00

yeesh. i think i need to blog daily or these things can get extra long.
in a nutshell: went to the cottage for a few days. had good times and bad times. weather was good and it was bad. am home now and am avoiding unpacking. except for the food of course. am pleased to say hubby is bringing home thi fusion food. yum.

am reading absolutely amazing book. 'Sahara Special' by Esme Raji Codell. it's junior fiction and i have never read anything so well written and so touching. i don't go for 'touching' books, nor do i go for sad ones. 'the notebook' is something that will have to be forcefed to me. i do not like crying. but this book...i can't stop crying. and it's not because i'm sad. it's because it's beautiful. read it. buy it. own it.

am proud of gaffer today. stopped at the local chapters to grab a latte (no i did not go to the carleton place one, i wanted it now, not later) and while gaffer waited on comfy chair for me, while i waited for my latte, he sat quietly. as we went to leave towards thomas' table, he told he had to speak to the two ladies, to ask them if they had Jesus in their heart. i said, ok, go ahead and quietly watched. he went right up to the first one, a woman about 60 i guess, well dressed, and put his hand on her knee and said, 'do you have Jesus in your heart?' and then ran back to me grinning and said, 'she said yes!' and i said, ok, let's go. and he said, no i have to ask the other lady. so he asked her too. i'm sure they were humouring him. but i don't care. i'm very very proud.

hmmmmmm

2008-08-21T18:49:00.001-05:00

no baby.
no problem.

rockstar hubby brought up the idea of building a greenhouse in the backyard.

i can't stop salivating.....

I feel as though I should be witty but...

2008-08-17T13:34:00.002-05:00

I know it's been awhile. And I don't even know if anyone missed me. It's not like I get anonymous comments, which means I am definitely not in the 'zone' or whatever it's called. And that's ok.
I just got back from Pembroke. Actually, I got back Wednesday night. I've been busy. Well, not so much busy, just not knowing what to write about. It almost feels mundane to write about regular events, although I keep reminding myself that at some point, I will probably print all of these blogs out to keep as a journal for later on. Just to see my growth.
And since last year, I've done a lot of growth.

As I said, I just got back from Pembroke. There's a retreat center out there called, St.Marguerite's, which I believe used to be a hospital. Or a nunnery for really old nuns. Regardless, it has some lovely lounges to sit it, a private bedroom, and you get fed three meals a day plus delicious snacks on the side. Which would explain why I'm back on the 'super-diet' because I gained a few while I was gone, even though I went for long walks everyday. I can hope that these few pounds mean I'm pregnant, but I won't hold my breath. (Incidentally, whoever out there tells people trying to get pregnant to stop trying? Shut up. Seriously! I don't want to hear I'm trying too hard. I want to hear, oh you poor thing, that sucks. Let me wallow for a few moments while I need to regain my hopes and desires for the next two weeks! I don't want to hear stories about how so-and-so stopped trying and now they are. Good for them. I don't care. This isnt' about them. And yes, I know maybe it's not part of the plan...you know what? I'm just going to stop talking about it and leave it at that. There. No more whining. Ok)
um...oh yah. So I went away initally to have a good cry. Life was getting a little too insane. I hadn't been away since last November (what was I thinking???) and I needed it. The gaffer was making me crazy and I had no patience left whatsoever. And all of life was pressing around me, tightly squeezing my chest until I couldn't breathe. And I felt it. The sadness. The sadness and despair and depression was coming. I only know this because I was 'depressed' before and it's not a place I'm going to allow myself to go again. So I was off for some spiritual healing. If you ever need healing baby, go to the big man. He knows what He's doing.
Taking all of the little silly details out, like how I shopped, walked the trail by the water (hello? beautiful!), visited garden centers and walked too far and got blisters....I did not cry. At all. What's up with that?

I wasn't sad. I was just...quiet. Not even introspective. I kept talking to God, saying, Ok, anything You want to tell me, I'm listening, I'm here for You! And basically He told me to chill out. So I did. And after much reading and studying I came up with one conclusion.

I'm growing again. One thing I always beg for, is for God to make me into who He wants me to be. Anything, any problem, no matter what. I want to be the best I can be, for Him. No one else. And that's when life got horribly icky. And I grew. I depend on Him and I grow.
I also remembered that I told God that I would do, be, suffer whatever, anything: for my parents to be saved. I told Him I'd do anything. Give anything. I would give up everything for this.
The other day I was listening to Chuck Swindall (sp?) on CHRI and he was talking about our souls and how they never die. How when you go to heaven, your soul lives forever in heaven. But if you go to hell, you soul lives forever in hell.
I wouldn't wish hell on my worst enemy.

So, in all, I was reminded of the simplicity of the world. How I need to keep it simple and focus on what's really important.
And I had a thought. That maybe all these children that I want, this huge family that I don't have yet, maybe they'll come to me in the form of the Indian Orphanage I want to move to. Or to all the children who will write to me when I publish my book and I get to write back. Who knows? Doesn't matter. I just want them.

2008-08-07T11:47:00.001-05:00

Retreat in 4 days.
that's all i have to say.
i can't wait.

White Water Canoe Weekend

2008-07-29T08:15:00.005-05:00

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

2008-07-22T14:30:00.002-05:00

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

2008-07-22T14:25:00.002-05:00

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

2008-07-20T18:22:00.004-05:00

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

2008-07-16T15:53:00.001-05:00

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

2008-07-14T15:53:00.000-05:00

It took seven stores and five hours...

...but I found it.

my bathing suit.

Harnessing the Rage

2008-07-13T20:46:00.003-05:00

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

2008-07-10T12:55:00.002-05:00

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

2008-07-03T11:41:00.002-05:00

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.

Berries and Controls

2008-06-30T11:45:00.003-05:00

Today started off with a trip to Cedarhill Berry Farm near Pakenham. I'm embarassed to admit that 'adventure girl' has never picked strawberries (I know, I lived a tough childhood). So I packed up the gaffer into semi-cute clothes and we hit the road. After about a 20 minute drive involving a 20 minute talk about farts, fart-statues, baby Smedley farting (stuffed dog) and strawberries not farting, we arrived. And I have to say, I was pretty impressed. I've seen berry farms before, one being in Richmond, the other along hwy 7 (why would you want to eat something that grows beside the highway?), but this was nice. It was clean, organized, there was hay everywhere. So we grabbed our three baskets and head out. I'm proud to say I picked my three baskets full in half an hour. The gaffer lost interest after about thirty seconds, and I sent him on the task of going up and down the aisles. It worked. We (I) carried the baskets to the cash and only paid twenty-two bucks! I was so pleased! Then we went home. How easy was that? Then I actually washed our sheets (the cloud was getting black from dog hair), pretended to clean the kitchen (I actually only made green-tea lemonade...yum!) and have cleaned out the hall closet. Yes, this is it. I'm grabbing that horny bull and I'm PAINTING THE HALLWAY! I'm in shock myself. It's only been what? A year? Oh wait, a year and 5 months. Yeesh. So now I have a plan with shelves and we will be hanging all of our coats on various hooks of all designs.

So on a more serious, spiritual matter. Yeck. I've forgotten. I've forgotten everything I learned last year about control. I don't have any. I need more. There's a huge difference between controlling yourself and controlling 'things'. So, here's my reminder. I cannot control anyone else's actions. I cannot control anyone else's behaviour. I cannot control how people will react, what they will say, what they will say/do to me. The only thing I can control, is how I will react/say/do. And God knows what's going on with me. He's controlling what's going on with me. So I need to LET IT GO.
Why is it so easy to forget stuff like that? Ok, so off to paint, and off to rant to God about all this crap and I'll wait for an answer or two.