Tuesday, 31 January 2006
I can't believe that I'm living vicariously through my underwear. I am actually disappointed they aren't travelling to Japan. How sad is that! [sigh] Maybe I should send a t-shirt instead. Then I can get patches or pins for it.
If I were to send a t-shirt (I don't dare say underwear) to your house...what would you write on it for Me? Tell me, I'll write it for you and I can be pathetic another way! If you want to send a picture, I'll get some of that there high falootin' printer paper that I can iron on the shirt with the very special photo you send. Or maybe not depending on what it is.
Friday, 27 January 2006
Ah yes! Babies....the snack food of the fish world. I've just moved 5 more babies across the street to the nursery tank at Matasha's house. One was a bright orange, red eyed albino mollie. If some one attempted to eat that one they'd have been cat food! (Too bad I don't have a cat for just such an occassion.)
Sick of fish cartoons yet? Sick of cartoons period? My kids have been behaving slightly better in the mornings and pretty much all of the time, so it's all I've got!
Wednesday, 25 January 2006
Get away from me with that plate of Hagus! Can't you see I'm trying to use the toilet!!!!!!!!
Yes, tonight was a new low for me. They picked the lock on the bathroom. Is there nowhere that is sacred anymore?! Five people of varying ages chased me around the house with a plate of steaming hagus telling me I had to partake of it in celebration of my Scottish heritage on Robby Burns day. What a load of hagus!
Do I wear a kilt? Do I throw around large logs just for the fun of it? Do I have a scottish accent?! No. I do not. My Grandfather came over from Scotland in his early 20's. That is long enough ago to separate me from this putrid dish!
During my childhood I ate blood pudding....and liked it. I ate head cheese....and liked it. (But know better now!) I never grew fond of kidneys, lamb, liver or any other organs that passed over my plate. I've eaten moose, deer, beeffalo and the odd bug that's flown between my teeth while on the back of a bike, but I have to draw the line at sheep organs and stuff neatly packaged in it's stomach. EWWWWWWWWWWW!
If terrorists ever were holding me captive and wanted information from me they could try and force feed me one of two things.....seafood or hagus. Both would be an effective tool in getting me to sing like a bird!
I love my family. I was running to get to an evening meeting. I took a miniscule pea sized bite.
run and spit!
scrub, scrub, scrub my teeth and tongue
eat a greek olive....not strong enough
eat a green apple...putrid flavour is starting to fade
So any one who is inclined to celebrate, Happy Robby Burns day, BUT DON'T GET TALKED INTO EATING THE HAGUS!
After much work (on the fishes part) after about 60-80 babies have been born over the past few months we have a grand total of 2 babies that have reached their wild teen years, and a small school of newborn fish. Hmmm.....and I was worried we'd get over crowded.
Anyhow, I can't imagine snacking on a kid if I was hungry no matter how bad my day was getting. There are times though when I offer to take the kids to the Mommy store so they can pick out a new one cause I'm just done in! They have always refused thus far....darn it! I could after all use the vacation. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that in the human world it's the kids that have the upper hand and don't turn your back. Don't let down your guard. Be very afraid!!!!! They just might get you!
Monday, 23 January 2006
Well, the day I have greatly anticipated has finally arrived! Voting day. So everyone get out there and vote for what ever party you want, just do it .. unless you are a Liberal. If you are then it's fine to wait until tomorrow to vote. Just kick back, relax and worry about it another day!
If the Liberals get back into power then I give up! Maybe we should all just start stealing and breaking the law to get what we want. That's the example that they've been setting for us. If we reward them, then what does that say about us?
Saturday, 21 January 2006
The day was quite snowy today. It was a heavy wet snow consisting of extra large snowflakes that were enough to soak through a coat in the time it took to walk from the mini-van to the ski lodge. I had also walked to the daycare, so I was melting a small waterfall from my hair alone, leaving black streaks of mascara running down my cheeks. My hair when it gets wet goes from straight to a wild wavey strawberry blond frizz in about 30 seconds flat. I was a pristine picture of beauty.
The smell of the lodge was not one you would expect from a change room of a sporting area. The smell of poutine* (yes, at 8:45am), coffee, perfume were the more pungent, followed by that of diesel fuel. That's one thing I'll say about the Francophones....they are well put together and never leave home without dressing to the nines and perfuming up real good!
I walked along one of the aisles between the tables, lined up throughout the lodge, making my way to my usual corner spot near the window to spend a couple of hours drawing my cartoons until it was time to pick my daughter up for her ski lesson. I looked around the room and saw the usual. English and French people alike with a peppering of other cultures thrown in for good measure. I passed by groups of young snowboarders in heated exchanges, skiiers adjusting and readjusting bindings and pulling undergarments out of their butts, parents working on laptops, passing the time until their kids were done skiing. A mother screaming angrily at her child to get ready to go out and have fun. A grown adult woman was snuggled up cosily next to her sweetie contently sucking her thumb like a new born child. (I don't even want to think about why!)
I scanned the corner spot, making sure that there were no weirdo's there. (Other than the obvious one that would soon be sitting there....me.) I seem to attract them like a magnet and hate to start off the day by intentially sitting next to one. I know eventually they will find their own way to me without my help. I sat down in just the perfect spot and tried to look unapproachable. It didn't work. I had just laid out my coloured pencils, erasers, cell phone and started sketching when I was approached by the first individual desparate enough for company to interupt a perfectly hideous looking scowling stranger, playing with a sketch pad and coloured pencils like a five year old.
She was pleasant, French speaking, perky, well dressed and VERY talkative. Everything I was not. I heard her entire life story. I answered her politely and threw in the odd question as to not appear so disinterested that I was outright rude. Bordering on rude was what I was aiming for. I turned back to my drawing and totally engrossed myself in it hoping she would move along, and eventually she did. I could see her in my peripheral vision. She had found a new victim a few places down the bench.
I could feel the table quiver slightly as a new woman seated herself directly across the table from where I was sitting. I made sure not to look up. I continued, self consciously, to work on a drawing which was now in the colouring stage. I reached up for my "chocolat chaud" and made a fatal error. I had placed the cup too far over on the half of the table that the woman was now sitting at. Blast it! Why didn't I foresee this problem! I had spread my belongings out too far! I tried in vain to reach up and gently grab the cup without disturbing the lady from her book that she had now pulled out and seemed to be absorbed in. She wasn't. She was just pretending. We made eye contact. I apologized for taking up so much of the table and the floodgates of conversation were opened. I learned her life history, that of her family and friends and neighbours. I learned of her dog, her friends dogs, those of her neighbours and people she had never met. A whole hours worth of stories were exchanged.
This woman was well put together, was intelligent, well spoken, French speaking with the smoothest most beautiful Francophone accent. The worst part was that she had the absolute nerve to be interesting! Can you imagine! So if my cartoons suck even more than usual this coming week, blame Elaine.
I'm learning more and more , that with all this talk of Quebec separation (from Canada), and the language police measuring the print on all signs to make sure that the French is in larger letters and appears first when written in Quebec (I kid you not!), that these people are pleasant, friendly and accomodating for the most part despite some of the crazy rules they have to protect their language and their culture. I used to dislike them for it, but now that dislike has turned into admiration. They know who they are and they want to protect that. They are proud of their heritage and are not willing to let the politically correct tell them they have to change for others. I guess that my dislike arose from jealousy perhaps. So these next few weekends when I'm passing my time in a Quebec ski lodge drawing cartoons that universally suck, perhaps I won't be so unapproachable. Maybe, just maybe, I'll meet a few more interesting Francophones like Elaine.
*Poutine: a French Canadian staple of french fries with cheese on top covered in gravy. Where there is a French Canadian....there is poutine!
Friday, 20 January 2006
Wednesday, 18 January 2006
I want to thank my husband for supporting this new past time I have of drawing cartoons. I couldn't do it without him. Being a stay at home Mom, I am of no use whatsoever to society according to the Liberal government. (I know, I'm starting to sound like a broken record.)
I get to be a slacker and my husband pays for me to sit in Starbucks at 10pm at night so I can draw comics. BUT...actually maybe I shouldn't be thanking him so much as thanking the Liberals since, according to Belinda Stronach, MP for Newmarket Aurora, we should be "greatful to the Liberals for our prosperity." You're right Belinda. I'm sure that it is solely the generosity of the Liberals and not the hard working tax paying public (my husband included) that affords us the lifestyle that we are fortunate enough to enjoy.
Anyhow thank you to all who contribute to my little crazy little plan to stay home and raise my own children, the useless and lazy slacker that I am. I'd say God Bless you all, but that would be politically incorrect and might offend those who don't believe in a God.
P.S. Belinda, since you crossed the floor from the Conservative Party to the Liberals for an important vote in Parliament.....I'll watch and probably enjoy the moment more than I should if you go down baby! Although I can't speak for Peter MacKay, I'm sure he may enjoy it just a wee bit too!
Saturday, 14 January 2006
A caller to a local radio talk show recently said she'd vote for a dog before she'd vote for a party other than the one currently running the country. Good luck with that lady! I wish you could vote for a dog actually. At least the chances are he'd/she'd be less corrupt, smarter, more loyal and work for biscuits! We've had billions of dollars stolen from us and our health care system is a mess. We're so multi-cultural that we are giving up our own culture and absorbing everyone elses is an attempt to be politically correct. We're led to believe that parents who stay at home with their children in the early years are robbing them of a proper early education. Apparently you're an idiot at raising kids unless you have a diploma in Early Childhood Education.
Yes honey, please vote for a dog. I'd rather that than you vote for the Liberal party!
Friday, 13 January 2006
Sunday, 8 January 2006
Ah yes! Clown Loaches. The clowns of the fish world. I bought two of these lovely creatures for one of our tanks in great anticipation of being entertained by their amusing antics.....but, I think I got one funny and one tragic clown.
Luckily, I was forwarned that these creatures sometimes like to "play dead" or they'd be in for a suprise when swirling down the toilet. Apparently, they like to lie on their sides and this, not being a normal fish thing, leads the tank keeper to believe his fish has moved on to a better place. Well, actually to the toilet, so maybe not better after all.
My funny one at least clicks audibly when he/she's eating zucchini....a favourite treat. Maybe click, or whiskers would be a good name. This one isn't too shy, and is always in search of something in the tank, what I don't know.
My tragic one is shy and basically is a big lump on the bottom of the tank. I think I'll call him lumpy. I did see it perched on a wee itty bitty plant once. That was kinda amusing....OK! So I'm desperate for entertainment!
Anyhow....I'm still waiting for the great performances and playful behavior that I've heard so much about. At least they're pretty in a whiskery clown fish kinda way!
Friday, 6 January 2006
Way back when, long before cesearean (oooh! are you impressed I could spell that? I had to look it up!) sections, my Grandmother's oldest child was a month overdue and 13lbs when he was born. YOWSERS! Needless to say, she required some reconstructive surgery and was instructed not to have any more children. Luckily for me she ignored that advice and had a couple of more. They were just small ones though, at about 10lbs or so each. Thankfully my kids were all in the Low 8 to 9lbs range.
Wednesday, 4 January 2006
It was the end of the day when a couple of co-workers were leaving the building with me to head to our cars. This particular complex is a winding maze of various labs joined by breezeways and long open walkways. As we walked out into a courtyard type area on the edge of the parking lot we all looked up to see a woman also walking to her car about 30 feet ahead of us. Normally we wouldn't have been shocked by this, but I must admit, we were completely flabbergausted by what we saw.
A woman dressed in a waist length coat, dress shoes, nylons and underwear was making her way across the courtyard. Her skirt seemed to have been left somewhere behind and she hadn't realized this!
The three of us stood there staring with our mouths open down to our shoes. Someone finally stated the obvious, "she's not wearing a skirt! I can see her underwear....all of them!" I stood there wondering how far she had walked like this. The nearest bathroom was nowhere near the entrance. She would have had to walk through the cafeteria and through security at the front entrance. We stated to each other that we couldn't believe that no one had alerted her to the fact that she was exposed from the waist down on her journey through the building. You may be asking if we took this opportunity to tell her. The answer would be HECK NO! We asked each other if we should, but each of us stood in our spot as if glued in place.
Did she loose her skirt? Did she do this on a dare? Was this the new look for this season? If so, it wasn't one I was willing to embrace. Did it not feel breezy? It was then that one of my friends noticed a small portion of her skirt sticking out the side of her jacket. She had just somehow managed to tuck her skirt fully under her jacket.
Finally as she entered her car we decided it was too late to relay this embarrasing information to her. We just hoped she wasn't on her way to the mall or something.
So next time you find a piece of toilet paper attached to your shoe, or you get caught in a pick....it could definately be worse!
Tuesday, 3 January 2006
My newest obsession. From ZERO to FOUR tanks in a month flat. My 50 gallon is sitting in the living room unused at present. Anybody want to talk me into setting up that? Go ahead I dare you!!! It wouldn't be very hard, just need a stand and everything else but the tank.....about a few hundred dollars;-o
To the masuline half of we: Just one more...ok? It's only 50 gallons dear!
To Kurt: Is it cruel to keep fish in a tank if I don't dress them up? (oh! i've linked to your site twice without asking. Naughty, naughty.
Monday, 2 January 2006
I am Canadian, a fact that I believe we have already established numerous times. I grew up alongside the worlds longest skating rink.
CTV.ca News Staff Updated: Thu. Aug. 4 2005 11:31 PM ET
The Rideau Canal Skateway, which has long boasted of being the longest skating rink in the world, can now make it official.
The rink is being recognized by the Guinness Book of Records as the world's largest naturally frozen ice rink.
Stewart Newport, head of research for London-based Guinness World Records, says there are other bodies of water where people skate, but the Rideau rink's services and infrastructure make it unique as an official skating rink.
The rink is a full 7.8-kilometre long and is about the size of 90 Olympic-sized rinks.
I therefore have since longer than I can remember, been a skater. I am good at skating. Very good. I am not good however at skiing. My parents weren't ones to strap a pair of slippery boards to their feet to go plummeting down a steep hill at breakneck speed....or at any speed for that matter. I was not a skiier.
When I met my masculine half at the tender age of 22, part of me became a skiier. The part that is my body. Somehow my soul and spirit never really caught up. I stood atop many a hills crying, wondering how I might get down to the bottom. The ski patrollers bringing me down in a toboggan was even more frightening that making my way down myself, so I always did.
I eventually grew to like skiing when the conditions weren't icy. I can't say that I was thrilled about the various lifts though, being afraid of heights. There are a handful of hills in the area and slightly beyond that I can say I enjoyed. But not the one my family is currently skiing at.
I have taken the last few years off to be pregnant and care for babies. Now it is time for my return to skiing. The masculine half of we has suggested that I take skiing lessons with our friend and neighbour who will now be skiing for her second year. He tried to either irritate or motivate me by suggesting that "you might even be better than her." Oh gee! She's been skiing for a whole two years. I've been skiing since I was 23! I certainly friggin' hope that things fall into place a little quicker once I get going again. Nothing like starting with a group of beginners to feel like a winner!
The most frustrating part of all of this is that he knows what he's talking about since he's a ski instuctor and racing coach on the weekends. So it is with bruised ego that I go shopping for ski boots that will anchor me to slippery boards so that I can go plummeting down steep, steep hills at breakneck speeds with all of the other "winners"....I mean beginners.
Only 3 more months of ski season. [sigh]
To the masculine side of we: I LIKED YOUR PRESERVES THE BEST!!!!
grumble, grumble...ya, I just wanta' know when he plans on taking up in-line skating with me, or how about piano or painting for a really good time.
Sunday, 1 January 2006
I'm afraid to say that I was to lazy to go out in minus too cold celcius to go for a walk looking for embarrassing pictures last night. I've got the flu and just wasn't looking to get pneumonia. Unfortunately though, while I was napping, someone in our very own family decided to "tie one on" and did a little too much partying all on his own. I was completely flabbergasted that someone his age wouldn't know any better! Now normally I'd say someone getting plastered on their own would be someone with a problem, but since this was his first time and it was New Years Eve and all, I'll let him get away with it just this once.
P.S. I still haven't been able to figure out how Mr. Blue got the limes in the Corona bottle without a handy set of opposable thumbs. Or even how he sliced the limes up so nice for that matter. When there's a will there's a way I guess.