Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave....

I can cross something off of my lifetime to do list. I finally got to hold a tarantula! Is that not exciting or what?! And even better....it didn't bite me.

I love spiders. Yes, love is a strong word when speaking of arachnids. I enjoy their beauty. Some from a distance might I add! The kind people at the local reptile zoo passed the spider around for all interested persons to hold. I was trying to keep my cool as it came closer and closer to me. I was excited enough to soil myself. Thankfully though, I didn't. Once I felt those furry little legs with picky tips tickling my palm I knew I was experiencing the next best thing to heaven.

Then I got to hold a python, some kind of lizard thingy and pet a skunk. Yes de-scented. Although can you ever really de-scent something so naturally pungent? I don't think so! (I wonder if they have to pee a skunk like they do squirrels.) Big whoop.

Anyhow, last evening I decided to start the campaign.

Me: That tarantula was AMAZING today!
Him: uh huh.
me: I want one.
him: (cough, sputter) HAA!
me: Does that mean yes?
him: (nasty look)
me: But I'll feed him, and walk him and clean up after him! Pleeeease!
him:
me: And a dog. I want a dog too. A tarantula and a dog.
him:
me: We could start with the dog though.

This is where I realized that he had completely tunned me out and had moved on to working on his lap top. I am a child again. A child begging for a pet. Not where I expected to be at 40.

Although a tarantula would be nice, and the possibility of one biting is not great, I wouldn't not seriously consider having one with young children in the house. I would however consider another dog. He doesn't want to. [sigh]

So I am now on the lookout for a pet to call my own. Something small that I can conceal. This morning I looked in the front garden. I found a pair of lady bugs. One looked like our native species. Nice, docile and beautifully red. The second looked like the invasive Asian kind that is wiping out our domestic ones.

I have included a picture. The one on the bottom would be my choice....it being the more docile of the two and less likely to munch on me. The Asian ones have a nasty habit of biting when hungry. Somehow though, I don't think a lady bug is the pet for me. I'm just not getting that "ooooh! come and meet my new pet, isn't it exciting!" feeling from her.

I apologize for the graphic nature of the picture. I had caught them, it seems at an inappropriate time.

WooHoo!

I FINALLY got through almost a whole night without someone waking me up because:
*I was snoring
*They couldn't find the toilet
*They had to up-chuck their supper, preferably on me so I would believe them
*They had a bad dream and wanted to make sure I hadn't indeed run off to join the circus with the other dancing alligators
*They just wanted to say hi
*They dreampt they were swimming with the hippos and peed the bed
*Oh and yes, (about 10 minutes after the waking me up just to say hi!)and by the way, I love you Mama.

At about 5 am my wee one woke me up because she wanted me to come and sleep with her in HER bed. I was too tired to argue, and so dragged myself to her room and nestled myself amoungst the 1oo million stuffed toys, bubbies (baby blankets), pillow and books. So comfortable. Glad to be invited.

Two nights ago however, was even more interesting.
3 of 4 awoke and eventually made her way into the kitchen and came and wrapped her arms around me.

Awww! How sweet! She got up to give me a hug....before I fell asleep for a change. I noticed then that she was fidgiting with my shirt in the front. It appeared she was trying to lift my shirt or something. It was then I realized the true nature of her visit to the kitchen. She thought I was the toilet. She was lifting my lid so that she could pee on me.......

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!

I am NOT the toilet! The bathroom is down the hall. HOLD IT 'TILL WE GET THERE! I yell as I rush her down the hall.....just in time might I add!

I have previously found her in the kitchen opening the utensil drawer, sitting on her sisters bed and in the livingroom on my recliner. Luckily I have always managed to catch her before she does her business.

Oh the joys of living with a sleepwalker.....or should I say sleep peer.

Some nights running away with the dancing alligators sounds tempting. I'd probably get a better sleep in a circus caravan!

It's raining. Again. It's been raining for longer than I care to think about. I'm starting to feel like one of my fish got their wish and soon I'll be living in a little bowl full of atmosphere while the rest of the planet in underwater. I hope they feed me as well as I've fed them, and that they remember that it is they that like blood worms, and not me.

Tomorrow is Victoria Day. A holiday of course! You can't let a long dead queens birthday pass without celebration and a national holiday! So an early Happy Victoria's Day to all.

On Canada day we put up flags and wear maple leaf t-shirts. We have fireworks and parties. Parliament hill jam packs full of happy folk and enjoy live entertainment......other than the politicians for a change.

What do we do for Victoria Day? I believe there are fireworks. A bit "damp" for that, to say the least, this year. That's it. Most start their planting in these parts on this weekend. Too wet to do that though. Cold also. Cold and wet. Yup.

I know....we can all dress up in pompous looking attire and go around looking like we sucked on a lemon while someone shoves a stick up our butt. That's the image brought to mind when someone says Queen Victoria. Sounds like a plan. Let the fun begin!

Where's the Bus?

We played beat the bus today. I'm sure we were destined to lose on this particular morning. 2 of 4 was standing barefoot, unbrushed and whining in the living room when the bus should have been shooting down the road at break neck speed. But it didn't happen. No bus appeared.

Fifteen minutes after the bus should have arrived, the children stood around laughing at each other making lizard faces, sticking out their tongues and falling into fits of giggles. (I can't imagine WHO ever started them on that activity--smirk) Still no bus appeared.

I decided, much to the chagrin of 4 0f 4, who likes to lounge in her jammies and catch up on her shows in the morning, that we'd drive to school today. When we got there....still no bus had arrived ahead of us.

I'm not sure what happend to "Speedy" this morning, but it leaves me wondering why I try so hard to beat the bus in the mornings if she's just going to not show up one day. Doesn't she know I have a schedule to keep! I even wore a bra to the bus this morning under my sweatshirt and put on some jeans and brushed my hair! It's not every day I do that! Talk about inconsiderate! Humph! Double-Humph!!

So, I had to take 4 of 4 out for coffee early today and have a muffin with it after dropping the other three off. Sigh. Life is so hard as a stay at home mom.

I saw this on Deb's blog, who saw this on Melissa's blog, thought it looked like fun, and stole. . .er. . .I mean. . .borrowed the idea.

Accent – I don't have an accent EH! The rest of the world does.

Booze of choice – I don't drink. So sadly I have no excuse for my bizarre behaviour!

Chore I hate – Cleaning my storage room. So I generally don't.

Dog or Cat –DOG!!!! Cats were a failed attempt by an alien race to take over the planet. Some people fall under their power, which is why one will never again cross my door step! Hateful beasts! Except the ones with dog like characters. I like those.

Essential electronics – a radio that has our local talk station so I have something to get enraged about on a daily basis.

perfume - No. I'd have to really stink to make myself wear the stuff. I never do stink that much! It makes me sneeze.

Gold or Silver? Gold. Except on my teeth. For those if I ever need to get them capped, porcelain.

Hometown – Same city I'm a sittin' in now. eh.

Insomnia? – frequently. But never during the day!

Job Title – I haven't decided yet what it will be for this week. I'm leaning towards cartoonist again. Maybe painter. Possibly aquarist. I'll let you know.

Living Arrangement – I used to think that we owned a house and that I live with my family. Actually as it turns out we are just tennants of the local squirrels. When we don't hand over the nuts they take the rent out in garbage. It's a sweet deal either way.


Most-admired trait – I suppose it's .....I want to say honesty, but most people now adays don't admire that all that much. They think I'm absolutely insane when I'm honest.

Number Of Penguins In Your Bathtub – No penguins presently, but at least one hippo and possibly a squirrel. You never know when they will pop in for a visit and feel like taking a bath.

Overnight Hospital Stays – only if I can be promised a semi-private room with the most loud, annoying, foul smelling individuals on the planet. I lucked out twice.

Phobia – I'm afraid to say!~

Quote – "Ah good taste--what a dreadful thing! Taste is the enemy of creativeness!" Pablo Picasso

Religion – I am a Christian. Free Methodist.

Siblings – yes. both artistic and only slightly more normal than myself.

Time I wake up – 12am, 1:30, 3:15, 3:30, 4:45, 5:30, 6:00, 6:01, etc....

Unusual talent/skill – I see dead people...JUST KIDDING. I can't think of anything. I can eat a couple of Kg. of chocolate without puking? Is that a talent or skill?

Vegetable I refuse to eat – Eggplant. Never tried it. Don't want to....but gosh, it sure is a pretty colour!

Worst habit – chocolate, dressing gnomes, using 'ou' instead of just 'o'. I'm not fond of the Queen, but I just can't give up her English.

X-rays – I'm trying to cut down.

Yummy foods I make – Chocolate chip cookies!!!! Blood worms. The cookies are for me and the blood worms are for my fish. I don't actually make them though (the worms). I do a mean defrost though!

Zodiac sign – No, but theres a no flyer sign on our mail box.

But hey. . .what about you?

Baby Black

Obituary

Died suddenly, at the tender age of about 2 weeks, Woody the squirrel passed away in his sleep, comfortably on his hot water bottle, freshly fed and peed.

Woody was a good squirrel. Had he had the chance, we are sure he would have been able to scrounge through the garbage, damaged property and stare in my windows had he been afforded the chance to grow along with his siblings and his peers. I mean .... fellow pee-ers.

All welcome to the kind person's backyard for a closed shoe box funeral before he starts to smell.

He is survived by about 60 kazillion siblings located throughout the planet.

Donations can be made in his honour to your local Wildlife care centre. Sure wish we still had one. Our municipality shut it down and made it illegal to treat wild animals. The infirmed now need to be cared for by people who don't know how to pee them or through the underground "pee the squirrel" groups. (i kid you not!)

He was a trouper!

To Pee or Not To Pee...That is the Question

I was innocently driving my bike with my backseat driver 4 of 4, trailing behind in the "chariot" bike trailor down a bike path through the neighbourhood that I am obsessively attracted to, next to my own. It has a great Starbucks and lots of quaint little shops with the feel of a little town all it's own in the middle of the city. The houses range from small cottage like dwellings to huge modern monstrosities peppered all throughout. I wasn't even LOOKING for trouble today!

"You're driving very bumpy mom!" says 4 of 4, not at all disappointed in the lack of appropriate shocks and sad state of affairs that the path is in.
I notice out of the corner of my eye, when passing a tree along the path, a huge set of gleaming black eyes attached to an itty bitty tiny wee black body lounging under a large pine. I hit the brakes. It's a baby squirrel.

"Look 4 of 4! A baby squirrel. (Not that I at all like squirrels or anything! Snicker.) All alone under a tree!" I tell the unimpressed child.
"ahhh! yes!" she replies in that voice that tells me she's humouring me, and lets get on with hitting those bumps! But I can't leave. I have to against the better judgement of my little inner voice, check this out.

I approach and it doesn't run away. I reach out tentatively, afraid of being bitten, and pet it's cutsey wootsy little baby squirrel head. It drags itself to a neighbouring pine. It's legs are not strong. It's a baby, but how old I don't know. I wrap it in Jessie's cozy "bubby" (blanket) and it starts to close it's eyes. It's exhausted!
"Oh no! Not my bubby mommy!" she whines.

After consulting with some passersby I decide to bring it with me. The poor wee thing has been there since at least yesterday, following people down the path looking for someone to ..... who knows what.

"Oh no!!! NOT MY DORA KNAPSACK!" she says in a frantic wail.
I explain I will remove the baby squirrel when I get home and her knapsack will be unharmed. She is suspicious, but begrudgingly agrees.

I stop at my neighbour, and dear friends house just across from my own, to show her my precious find, not having a clue what I will do with a baby squirrel during our coffee time which is fast approaching. Little did I know I came to the right person!

I'll skip the first part of the conversation and get right to the interesting part:

"What the heck to you mean I have to "pee the squirrel?" I ask. I couldn't have heard her right. She must have said something else. Why in the world would I ever want to pee on a squirrel?
"No, not pee on the squirrel....you need to PEE the squirrel."

I am confused. Now I will admit, it doesn't always take that much to confuse me, but she had me totally stumped.

"Baby squirrels aren't able to pee themselves, so their mothers lick them on their...ummm....you know....privates, to stimulate the release of their pee and stool." she says in a calm, hey this happens everyday, kind of voice.

I laugh nervously. "I think you should do that part! You sound like you know what you're talking about and I might just lick the wrong part!" I say wondering when she'll get to the punch line of this bad joke! I don't want the thing to die or anything, but that's asking a little much....even for a squirrel!

"No!!!! You need to use warm water and a cotton swab, or your finger to mimic the mom licking him."
"Phew!" I thought you were pulling some kind of sick joke on me or something!"

Thankfully, she contacted a person who just happend to be working from home and could rush right over to come and warm, feed and pee the squirrel! You can't even imagine how much relief I was feeling when I found out there was someone to take over this job!

After a quick look, it turns out it was dehydrated, in need of rehydration with a homemade concoction of the equivalent of squirrel pedialyte, and then formula, as well as a good peeing when all else was done. A little damage to the tip of it's tail was the only visable injury.

Although I was worried about harming it by bringing it home in a Dora knapsack on my bike....it turns out I made the right decision. It would have died otherwise for sure. At least now, God willing, it will have a chance to pull through.

One more squirrel may safely roam the earth to pick though the garbage and reek havoc in the neighbourhood....next to mine, if all goes well. I'm sure the people there all appreciate my contribution. Woo Hoo! I think....

The Mystery of the Wandering Water Can

It was a dark and stormy night. The kind of night that smart people stayed tucked comfortably in their homes. Not the kind of night that two respectable dames should be out wandering around the streets like cheap hookers waiting to make their next buck.....ok, wait. It wasn't really dark and stormy. Dark yes, stormy no. It was a cool evening, with the feel of winter still lingering in the air. It just doesn't have the same punch as dark and stormy. Anyhow, on with the story....

What looked like aimless wanderings by these dames, actually had a purpose. These dames were on a mission. They were there to enhance a rooster and two horses. Little did they realize that they would become a couple of dicks solving an unnerving mystery before the evening was through.

They quickly found their target just around the corner from their local hangout, where a girl could get a coffee cheap. Real cheap if she's wearing the right head gear. Tonight though, there were no bunny ears for the mission. They would have to pay real dough for their caffeine fix. The Barista had just kicked them out into the street, a routine which happend at closing time with a regularity that most constipated elderly people could admire.....hmmm, I'll need to work on imagery on that descriptive sentence....

They head around the corner with their target in full view. Unfortunately the come across something unexpected. Another dame has had the same idea tonight. She too is out wandering the streets like some cheap hooker....you get the point. and she's bending over the targeted ornaments moving mysteriously through the garden with something in her hand.

Is the spray painting the offending art work? Is she enhancing herself, or just using her peepers to get ideas for her own hideous decor. No....she's watering the plants surrounding the ornaments.

The two dames pass the property. No use in tipping her off to their intentions. They turn part way down the street to do another pass, like a cheap hooker....I may have used that one enough, so I'll think of something else to put here. like a copper on the beat watching a suspicious character, waiting for him to make his move.

One of the dames notices something off about this scene. There is a trail of blood leading up the street.....actually it's water. But I got your attention, didn't I! HeeHee.There's a trail of water running up the street away from the lawn where the watering dame stood.

"Why would she go for water somewhere else? Why not use the water from the house?" The taller smarter more astute dame asks.
"She came from somewhere else?" the strawberry blonde dame responds. The taller dame is used to hanging out with a blonde and explains what she saw.

They follow the trail up the street to busy downtown like intersection. It crosses over the road to the other sidewalk. The determined pair follow it's track like hounds on a fox, dodging traffic all the way.

The trail is leading down the legnth of the block. The pair are confused by the craziness of the watering dame. Why would someone carry a heavy watering can this far.

They are greatful for the spilled water that dots the sidewalk, like dog urine on a tree, and thankful that it's too cool to evapourate away at any great speed. The water, not the dog urine. Was that clear when you read this sentence? They continue on.
The darkened trail turned a corner and disappears up the walkway of a restaurant. Won Ton's Chinese restaurant to be exact. It comes to an end at the front door. It was the kind of front door that was made of glass and invited voyeurs to enjoy their fill of free entertainment.

The strawberry blonde looks up and sees a chinese man working late at his counter. Being partially blonde, she states the obvious....
"He's chinese! The watering can lady was chinese! I wonder if she works here?"
The taller dame patiently says, "she may, but why would she carry the water all that way?"

Ooooh, ooooh! I know!! Says Ms. Strawberry in a moment of pure genius. The kind of genious that hits with the regularity of a lightening strike to flesh, maybe once in a life time, if your lucky.

"The can was probably full of chinese tea! Leftovers! Tea's good for the plant, and chinese people are good with plants!"
Says Ms. Strawberry, beaming from this revelation.

There would be no decorating tonight. They'd have to go back when the dame wasn't out primping her garden, like a cheap hooker primping up herself before her next customer. But then, that's ok. There'd be other nights, other missions, and these dames were patient. They would decorate another night.
Insert thunder sound here and start mystery music in your head.

The Very End!

Oh yes, by the way! Only one more day until decorating night. I'm hoping we can find the lawn ornaments again. I wasn't paying attention to what street they were on. I hope Adventurer remembers! We'll be decorating a rooster and two horses. A neighbour suggested I put first prize ribbons on the horses. I still am thinking Easter eggs for the rooster. What should we fill them with?

Anything else?

I snatched this from Deb's blog.

I am: easy-going, silly, usually happy, quite sarcastic, accident prone, mischievous, lacking in mental abilities much of the time, usually about a month behind the rest of the world.

I want: Jesus to come back BEFORE it's my turn to die! Money, fame (for positive reasons) one of my old bosses to ask me for a job (heeheehee!)pretty much what everyone else wants.

I hate: eating seafood. Fish are pets not food! Constipation, nosey neighbours, pushy people, thongs! Man, what's with the facination with butt floss? That can't really be comfortable?!

I miss: my pre-pregnancy body. My boobs being above my waist. Having a waist.

I fear: head lice, wouldn't you like to know the rest!!!

I hear: barely anything unless it's said by God himself!

I wonder: if men really think comb overs are attractive! Why British accents sound so pompous. Why Hollywood women think they look good after plastic surgery.

I regret: being so shy when I was a kid. Not enjoying my early 20's as I should have.

I am not: normal! talented, cranky, driven (lately)

I dance: No longer. I used to dance with Mr. Blue. He'd get excited when I put music on and get up on his hind legs to waltz with me, no matter the type of music.

I sing: only if someone holds a gun to my head. I do not make pretty sounds with my voice!

I cry: once every 10 to 15 years whether I need to or not. Usually not more than that.

I’m not always: eating chocolate. Just most of the time.

I make with my hands: quilts, crocheted baby blankets, piano music, the best chocolate chip cookies in the world, the best looking decorated gnomes in the city! The odd painting. Really big messes!

I confuse: Just about everybody!

I need: to be more organized, like I was before kids, efficient, tidy. Chocolate regularily. To find a way to convince 4 of 4 that "boogs aren't for eating. You need to use a kleenex!"

I should: clean my basement, exercise more, eat less chocolate [snort, ya right!].

I start: many projects that I never finish. Eating chocolate as soon as I get up.

I tag: anyone who wants to play

Things are slowly starting to twist back to the abnormal. I can't say for sure that it's a foregone conclusion that things will ever be as bizzare as they once were in my jaunts through the neighbourhood. That would be asking too much. But things are better.

We have gotten into a nice routine of being ready for the bus 5 minutes early. We haven't missed one of late. I just toss the kids onto the moving bus, which "Speedy" slows down only slightly when she's in a good mood. On a bad day I just have to toss them harder. I haven't missed yet, but if I do, my kids are flexible and athletic. They'll bounce back in no time at all. I don't bother to say hello to Speedy in the morning. She scares me. I'm afraid she may run me down in my laneway one day, so I just wait back by the house until tossing time.

I went back to Walmart the other evening only out of sheer necessity. I needed to buy up all of the left over Easter chocolate that was on sale and a shirt. I had my 3.5 year old with me. We were browsing through the shirts when a short petite stick of a woman, with a heavy Eastern European accent approaches me and asks if I know where there is a mirror. I point to one 5 feet away.
"Ah! yes! Gut, gut!"
"Thees looks gut on me....yes?"she asks while adjusting a short orange decorative garment to cover a shirt? I'm not sure exactly what the purpose was of this garment. It looked like it was made out of an orange fishermans net.....but ok. I'll answer her.
"Ya, sure." I say, waiting for her to let me pass.
"Yah! You like it? It's nice? No?"
"Ya, nice." I say watching her start to twist around a bit.
She looks at me with great hope in her eyes. She really seems to need my approval. She really wants me to love it. I'm waiting for her to offer me a job like the last Eastern European I met in Walmart.
There are only a handful of Eastern European people in the city and I seem to be meeting them all at Walmart. There's a bazillion French Canadians in the city and I've never ever ran into one in Walmart. Go figure.
She pauses and waits for further approval and praise.
"Nice."
"Nice."
"yup. Reeeeally nice."
"I hear that orange fishing net look is really in for little itty bitty Eastern European women this year!"
Ok! Maybe I didn't actually say that part. At least not out loud!
I slowly back away. How did I become this womans personal shopper. She's treating me like I'm her daughter out for a girls day out.
"Really nice....see ya. What's that Princess 4 of 4 (my youngest) you need to go pee? oooooh! We'd better hurry!"
My daughter didn't have to go pee. I just made that part up. Sometimes it's good to have kids with you. They are a good excuse for a quick get away.

So, things are starting to get back to the bizarre. Not quite as exciting as before....yet. But I'm on my way back to kookie.

Adventurer.....A Gift From God!

Fellow Bloggers,

There are people who may have been wondering why I disappeared for a while from the blog and e-mail contact. Why I wasn't on MSN's IM. I know a few have asked. I'd like to say that it was just because I was terribly busy...which IS true. Or that maybe I was just feeling a bit uncreative and in a rut....which is also true. But I now know that it was something more than that. I was having a case of the "Normals."

Until a little over a year ago, I was an ordinary Canadian like any other. Busy Mom, formerly having worked in the medical and telecommunications settings. Having made it successfully through my youth, a more creative time in my life, I had grown up mentally and physically. In short.....I was boring.

I won't tell you all that happend a year ago to bring me to where I am today, but let me tell you, life is a whole lot more fun now. Pushing my limits, decorating lawn ornaments, wearing bunny ears out to coffee and church regularily, using a very dry sarcastic sense of humour when communicating with just about anybody. Approaching life with a different attitude. Enjoy today, praise the Lord always and work HAPPILY as if you are doing so for him. Now I don't exactly know if he'd be out decorating lawn Gnomes, but I'd like to think maybe he would, if it could bring a smile to someones face.

Well, the last couple of weeks, I've been feeling "NORMAL" again. Thinking about how silly my hobbies are. How I don't have a snowballs chance of ever being any type of an artist, cartoonist, business person. How I will never attain my ultimate dream of being a Starbucks Barista someday. When something happend.

I went out to coffee with Adventurer. That always helps to inspire for a time. But by Saturday I was back in my rut. Feeling a failure, not the creative artistic person I aspire to be. I was feeling so terribly NORMAL! I'M NORMAL! Even worse! I'm a pathetic middle aged over the hill normal person. Then something else happend.

While painting my kitchen ceiling beams the most hideous colour of baby blue, not at all what I intended, I heard a car in the laneway. By the time I was able to get down and check out the window, I was just able to catch a glance of a red car exiting my driveway and driving off down the street.

I'm not sure what made me open the door anyhow,but I did. There on the front step was sitting, alone, in all it's glory, a chocolate Kahlua cake! At the time not recognizing exactly what species it was, I thought it odd that someone would drop a bunt cake off like that with out so much as a how do you do. I don't even eat sample packs that come in the mail let alone a whole strange bunt cake!

Curious and confused I wandered over to the front window and stood to reflect on the situation, when I saw the most miraculous thing! There in my front garden, standing proudly amoungst the blooming tulips, on guard, was the oddest interpretation of a lawn Gnome I have yet seen! An Ikea terracotta lawn gnome that's shaped more like a ..... well, never mind, we just won't go there.

It's a message from God! I am Weird! I'm not normal at all! If I were normal would people be leaving terracotta Ikea lawn gnomes on my front tulip bed for no reason at all?! WooHoo!!!

So, thank you to my partner in enhansements, Adventurer ,who acted as Gods messanger to make my day and set me back on my path of abnormality. From the bottom of my chocolate Kahlua cake filled heart (and stomach) THANK YOU!

I know that God has given each and every one of us a special gift. I'm still not sure what mine is, but I think that it has something to do with being goofy. I know the Spirit will let me know when I'm on the right or wrong paths.

Perpetually Silly,
Perpetually Yours,
Perpetually a Chocoholic,

Cocoa

P.S. Do you think wondering what your gift is could be the only gift some may have?

Also, sorry this is so long. If you made it to the bottom, pat yourself on the back and get a coffee to wake yourself up. Better yet, have some chocolate!

I'm baaaaaack! Thanks to the valiant efforts of Adventurer. She swept in to rescue me from the evil clutches of the lawn ornaments headed by none other than the West Village Gnome.

Well, actually that's not quite true. It turns out that I hadn't been abducted at all as so many thought! While I was just hanging out with the L.O.O.N.I.E's, and enjoying myself immensely might I add, they decided they had had enough of me and asked me to go. When I so stubournly refused they put out the "video" in hopes that somebody would come and "rescue" me. It worked. Adventurer came to the rescue and saved the L.O.O.N.I.E's.

The good news is on our jaunt through the neighbourhood last evening, we discovered three brand spankin' new lawn ornaments taking themselves much too seriously. They're just screaming to be decorated. I very much doubt the owners will appreciate the artistic enhancement as much as the Village Gnome's, but if you have a rooster and two horses sitting on your front lawn, tell me they don't need at least a bow or a few plastic Easter eggs to make the picture complete. Oooooh! I like that! Plastic eggs for the rooster. Now what do I do for the horses?.....hmmm....sure wish I had some plastic poop. That would make this lovely picture complete!

You up for this next Thursday Adventurer?!

The following transcript was received a few days ago by the family of "it." I mean "Perpetual Chocoholic." It was received on a beta tape and was therefore not viewed until just today. (Let's see you try to find a beta machine somewhere!!)

Bunny#2:Where the heck is the Village Gnome [tsk, sigh] We've always got to wait for him. Thinks he's so bloody great! I'm the Village Gnome. I've been decorated more than anybody else! I'm the king of the planet! [said in mocking tone]
Turtle: I say we go ahead without him. All in favour say I.
All: I!!!!!!

To Whom it May Concern;
We are the "Lawn Ornaments Of the North In Exile" ....or L.o.o.n.i.e. for short. We are not a terrorist group, or at least we were not, until today. We are currently holding "it" hostage.

These are our demands:

*Promise that "it" will no longer ridicule us by dressing us up,moving us around, or sticking sticky notes to our bodies anywhere in North America, during the light of day OR dark of night!

Ok, maybe we only have one demand.....NO Wait!

*We also demand that you pay to have it permanently removed from the region should "it" continue to harass us, using whatever means necessary....[Insert sinister music here.]

Squirrel #1: I really hate that name. LOONIE. What kind of lame name is that! Boy....that really bites. I thought we were going to hold a vote on it.

Hippo: Ya well, I think you really bite! Just because we didn't want to use your acronym "S.T.O.P (superior tacky ornamental personages) I mean....what the heck does that mean?

Turtle: Could we please just get on with it before the Gnome gets here. If he gets here before we're done we'll never get out of here. You KNOW how he goes on and on about how HE'S the one who's been humiliated and how HE'S the real injured party.

Bunny#2: Can you believe he actually wanted us to consider hiring a hit man! He's wacko man!

Bunny#1: He really freaks me out too! The other day I saw him whispering and snickering to himself.

Hippo: Ok. Let's call it a day. What do we do with it until we hear back from "them?"

.............................end of transcript......................................................

I have a Bad Feeling

I have a bad feeling about tonight. I have a mission. A very dangerous covert mission. I need to approach the "enemy" to the masses (as suggested by Fourth Fret.) The dreaded upscale house in the upscale village with a lawn gnome on the front lawn! (place eerie music here)

Wish me luck, because I'm thinking I may get caught. Just a feeling. I haven't heard from Adventurer yet, so I'm hoping it won't be a solo mission. I don't know if I want to face a gnome alone!

Wish me luck! If you don't hear from me again you'll know I've been overtaken, perhaps taken as a hostage. Please give in to his demands! I don't want to spend the rest of my life with a gnome!

Think about this one...

On Wednesday of this week, at two minutes and three seconds after 1:00 in the morning, the time and date will be
01:02:03 04/05/06.

That won't ever happen again.
Thankyou...
You may now return to your (normal?) life.

I received this by email today. Is this reason enough to throw a party? You're all invited. My place tonight at 1:00 am for the countdown.

Directions to my house:

Head North. If you're in Calgary just head east until you see a crazy woman wearing bunny ears and decorating lawn gnomes. That's me....Well, me or Adventurer.

All Gussied Up and Gnome Where to Go!

Well, once again it's that time of the year when Thursday evening coffee, post piano lessons, with Adventurer means dragging our hibernating butts out of the cozy Wintertime cafe seats out into the warm Springtime streets to be let loose on the neighbourhood with a decaf coffee to go. (Could you imagine me with caffiene after all?)

Usually a legnthy walk would be in order. Tonight however, still recuperating from various Wintertime ailments, we decided to drive to my favourate little spot.

A little village in the city. High end condos with one lovely little place sporting a lawn gnome and daschund statue on their postage size lot. Now when I see this little gem amoung the pristine professionally manicured postage stamp sized lots, barely big enough to fit a lawn chair....I think that these individuals have personality! They have a sense of humour! They have two middle ageish female ornament stalkers decorating their lawn ornaments for the numerous holidays for just shy of a year now. Do we know them? No. Have they caught us? No. Are they happy about it? Your guess is as good as mine, but they don't remove the decorations for sometime after they are done. In fact, the ornaments sometimes are shifted about the lot, in order to mow the lawn (probably in one pass) all the while retaining their newest duds all the way.

My picture came out blurry, but what you would see if blogger would work properly and let me post my picture, is indeed said lawn gnome wearing a plush bunny mask. (Which may have been partly responsible for getting us a free coffee when I wore it into the cafe. It's not the first donated coffee we have received there. The very generous Barista has grown accustomed to our antics, and seems to enjoy them. We are amply rewarded for our sillyness from time to time.)

The daschund was decorated with a little pink hairy bunny toy, which will multiply to many bunnies through the coming weeks leading up to Easter.

It's times like these, when we can not take life so seriously and bring a little humour into peoples lives and perhaps a smile, that life is good!

Invasion of the Creatures from the Aquarium

While putting away clothes in my daughters dresser I was confronted with a question.....

How the heck did a little itty bitty golden "apple" snail, about the size of half a pea get into my daughters dresser? Oh sure, there happens to be an aquarium on top of the dresser, but that's not an adequate explanation! And where was the gooey snail part?

The mystery deepend when I came across another of the pesky little creatures while sweeping the floor. Unlike his/her sister or brother in the sock drawer, this little fellow/gal appeared to still be present in some form in it's shell! A dried out dehydrated presence, but most definately there none the less.

Out of curiosity more than anything, I plopped the little beast back into the water, wondering whether or not it was "damp" enough inside to have survived the ordeal. I turned my back briefly, and it was gone! It had come out and joined it's siblings in the tank for a morning of feasting and merriment before attempting yet another escape!

A few months back, seeing these beautiful creatures in a tank at the aquarium shop, I inquired about them. I was a bit concerned about added them to my tank, since I had been fishing out the regular little brown ones ever since I started adding live plants to my aquarium. They assured me that these types of snails required TWO of them to breed. I bought 3.

You may be wondering why I'd by 3 when I was worried about them procreating? Well, we did after all have 4 tanks when I bought them. Unfortunately though, what I didn't forsee was that a week later I'd have a nasty case of Ick in all but one of my tanks. To treat it an aquarist must remove anything sensitive to the medication. This included these snails. Supposedly they are much like many of the parasitic diseases that we treat for and are therefore in harms way when we try to eliminate them.

One BIG snail orgie took place in the course of treatment. They rarely left each other alone and not too long after, I found two snails on the floor behind the dresser.

Now these fellows/gals aren't little. Make a fist....ok, maybe not quite that big, but about the size of a 3 year olds fist. Each day, at least 2 or 3 times, I went searching for them around the outside of the aquarium. We played this hide and seek game until finally one day I had had enough! I put them in an enclosed tank with only an opening for the heater and filter flow.

Apparently my type of apple snail lays eggs just above the water, somewhere humid and close so they will drop safely in when they hatch. I now have about 20 thank you (at least. they won't stay still enough to let me count!) And they are starting to come of age apparently, because each day 2 or 3 times, I go and search for the escapees who are trying to find their perfect place to lay their eggs.

The really funny thing about this, is thinking that I removed them all from a tank I had been treating for another nasty parasite, I found two had come out of hiding only after I had completed the course of treatment. The fish were dropping like flies, but I couldn't kill these little suckers if I tried.

So.....of to the Fish store to restock their supply of apple snails if they'll have them. Before they add to mine!

Princess Four of Four

I walked into the room belonging to my third and fourth daughters. I'm not a huge fan of Star Trek or anything, but I like the way that the Borg are "labelled." I think that this is a better way to call the kids when I want them. Especially if I am requiring all of them at once. "One through Four, Supper is ready!" Not that I need to call them for supper. Usually they are picking at the trough long before it's ready...but I digress.

I see a small green and yellow Ikea chair pulled up to Four of Four's dresser. It's sturdy enough. The dresser is strapped to the wall so it won't tumble over when used as a ladder to get whatever is out of reach at the top. That's how she got up there to get her bottle of baby lotion that I had thought I cleaverly stashed away in the top drawer where she NEVER looks. When there's a need there's a way I guess.

"Mom, I want a 'sauge now." she says in her deceptively sweet voice. You see, I know what will happen if I say no. Oh sure! You're sweet now, but if you don't get your massage when you demand it, there will be no living with you for the entire afternoon and probably most of the evening too!

This is something I used to do when she was an infant with dry skin. Now a recent addition to our bathtime routine again, she seems to be quite taken with this part of it. It was not, however, post bathtime.

I realized at this time that this is a true prima donna in the making. She's not our first "girlie girl", but is definately the first to believe that she's an honest to goodness princess and should get all of the princess perks that the position affords!

At 3.5 years of age, my little "princess" has previously let me know that our house is not beautiful like the huge condominium complex going up next to the Starbuck's where we like to have our morning coffee. She wants to live in a house the size of the entire complex she informs me.

Do I dissuade this behavior? No. Yesterday when we went shopping for shoes, she picked out the sparkly pink ones because that's what a princess would wear. I bought them.

You see, I have three more sensible, thrifty, tolerant and charitable children. This being the case the youngest is bound to be a little spoiled. She's Daddy's girl and definately his little princess. She's got him wrapped around her little finger! (I can say that in this blog with no fear of him reading it because this entry is too wordy. He likes the straight to the point kinda entries. He's a busy guy!) She says "jump" and he says "would you like me to grab you the moon while I'm up there. Oh ya, and by the way....how high?"

I suppose I'll need to take her down a few pegs so we don't totally ruin the child. Anyhow, enough for today's post. If you'll excuse me, Four needs her massage and manicure before we go for her morning hotchocolate at starbucks. I hope she doesn't want to go and find a dress to go with her shoes, I have got just too much to do today.

Job Posting

Wanted:
School Bus driver for elementary school children needed for pick-up and drop off at various local schools.
Must be kind and tolerant towards school aged children, regardless of how bratty they are. Must drive at a reasonable speed, not as if you are in the Daytona 500. Must not pick off children at the side of the road (you don't get points for taking out children!) when wizzing by your route for the second time, because .... ooops! You forgot to drop somebody off at their stop (silly driver!) Must enjoy the antics of the PerpetualChocoholic family enough to actually slow down in front of their house to make it appear as if you may have stopped for their children had they actually been completely ready for the bus. Finally, must actually drop the children off at their designated stop in front of their house and not at the neighbours who aren't the least bit interested in obtaining extra children for their own use.

D'UH!

I want our old bus driver back!

Can you imagine that this driver actually told my children who were on their way out the door, if you want me to stop you actually have to be waiting by the road for me to pick you up.

The problem with this is that one of my kids just about got taken out by the bus flying by our property, just about on our snowbank, for the second time, while playing. Had she slipped, she would have been road kill! I'm afraid to get within 10 feet of the street when she's on the job.

Then she tried to drop them off up the street at a neighbours house. My 3, and two others. The neighbours were confused, we were confused, and worried she'd take off with them darting out in front of the bus trying to get to us. After a lot of yelling, arm waving and annoyed looks, they made it home without any problems....this time.

Well, she doesn't know what she's missing as far as morning entertainment goes by not stopping for the girls in the morning. But maybe that's not a bad thing. My kids are ready on time now because they know she won't wait. And quite frankly, if the crazy lady remains their driver, I may just have to get them to school myself. Which should provide much entertainment to those gathered at the school because I'm sure I'll embarass myself somehow (not to mention the kids) when taking them in.

I miss Bozo! (Yes, believe it or not, that was actually their favourite bus drivers real first name. Lucky man!)

The squirrel population has increased these last few days. I received this letter just the other day: (well, this is actually just a translation of the original. The actual note was written on the snow in "Squirrelish" with a peanut and some poops.)

Dear Provider of the Nuts,

We are not pleased with the present variety of foods being served. We would like to see something other than peanuts being served during the course of the week. Also, please note that your attempt to increase our blood pressure with the addition of salted peanuts is noted! Your excuse about that being all that is available is unacceptable. I know that you have peacans in your cupboard for cooking....you've been holding out on us. You will pay for this little mistake with the spreading of your garbage thoughout your driveway until the mistake is corrected.

We would also like you to address the concerns we have about the presentation of the food. Although in the human world you all would like to believe that flesh colour does not make a difference, in the squirrel world I will tell you that it does. The grey squirrels will be served on the upper deck of the yard. The black squirrels will eat on the lawn. (except for the really big black fellow with the scars on his body and half an ear. He can eat anywhere he darn well pleases.)

Finally, although we were previously opposed to sharing our dinners with the crows, we have since decided that their attendance has proven beneficial. We would have lost a few good members had not the large beasts chased away that hawk that was sizing us up.

The Squirrels

P.S. You're ugly and you smell like a human, so stop attempting to feed us from your hand. It's disgusting and takes away our appetite.

Happy March Break

A little girl was talking to her teacher about whales. The teacher said it was physically impossible for a whale to swallow a human because even though it was a very large mammal its throat was very small.

The little girl stated that Jonah was swallowed by a whale. Irritated, the teacher: reiterated that a whale could not swallow a human, it was physically impossible.
The little girl: said, "When I get to heaven I will ask Jonah".
The teacher: asked, " What if Jonah went to hell?"
The little girl: replied, "Then you ask him".

Happy March break. No beat the bus this week.

The snow is melting, they are calling for possible thunderstorms tonight. At least the rain is washing away the snow. Sadly, Mr. Blue's footprints in the snow have now started disappearing. The last concrete evidence of his existence here with us is melting away. Well, maybe not his last. The remaining "gifts" he left will need to be cleaned up from the backyard once they have been defrosted a little bit more. At least will will have comfort in the knowledge that he will continue to be with us in Spirit throughout the summer by fertilizing the plants for this year. Thank you Mr. Blue!

I've hit a creative wall once again. I've included a cute little story that a friend sent. I've seen it at least once before, sitting in this very spot, about a year or so ago. I've been blogging too long. I'm getting into re-runs.

BOSTON

Hi Loves,

Well, I'm back again. Sorry I didn't write sooner but I've been feeling jet lagged since I got back from Boston. Sandi says that I'm not really jet lagged since Boston is in the same time zone as home, but what does she know....she's never been to Boston! D'uh!
I haven't gotten any pictures from my trip. I stayed inside the suitcase. Mr. P. didn't think that the fellows at M.I.T. would appreciate a pair of world travelling underwear tagging along. I'm not sure why though because I'm sure theirs were all there. Well at least I got a pin this time that says Boston. Lucky me! I'm thrilled. It's a start. No travel plans for the immediate future. I'm trying to talk Sandi into taking me out for the day now that the weather is warming up. We'll see I guess!

Hugs & Kisses

Vicki Stripes
xoxoxox

Beating the Bus Again

I stood somberly in the doorway watching the bus bump it's way down the street with screaming excited children ready to take on another day. So often I've read in historical novels of their characters suffering from melancholy. It sounds so much nicer than depression. It's been a rough week with the passing of Mr. Blue. I turned to see 3 children in various states of readiness for school watching to see if I was going to blow. I didn't on this day. I'm melancholied out. But guess what....that was yesterday, and today is another day!

GET MOVING! And if I hear one more person say their sister is an "a**hole, I'm getting out the soap....again! (to their shocked suprise for the first time in the history of this household-- yesterday-- I washed two of their mouths out with soap. I had once tried "Louisianna Hot Sauce" to stop one child from biting everyone in sight, but unfortunately she was immediately taken with the stuff and could be found sucking on it clandestinely in the kitchen at a frequency that was alarming to me! I had created a pre-school Louisianna Hot Sauce addict!)

The delay tactics were starting. Child #2 approaches and opens her mouth as if to speak, "If someone or something isn't currently in the process of dieing, and if you say one word before getting ready for school like I asked, I'm going to introduce you to Mr. Sudsey Handsoap....again.

"But Mom, I was just coming to say I love you!!!!" she retorts in her best insulted voice.
"Right! You forget, I know you! When you were a toddler, you're the one who used to watch yourself cry in the mirror, then switch to a smile, then back to crying in a blink!" She started taking grand manipulator lessons early!
"Oh, listen Tara! Is that Mr. Sudsey I hear calling you?" Busted! She stomps away.
Delay tactic #1 ineffective.

ONE MINUTE TO THE BUS PEOPLE!

Delay tactic # 2:
"It's skating day at school and I can't find my helmet or skates. Can you find them then drive me to school if we miss the bus?"
"Sadly no!" I put on my sadest face when I say this for effect! I guess you get to watch your friends having fun skating, while you sit on a snowbank freezing your little bun buns off. Awwww. How sad for you! "
"You know, I just forgot, I may have seen them in the back room after all!"
(snicker, right! nice try...again, but no score.)

By this time I notice Child #3 coming out walking like a penguin with an egg on it's feet trying to make it to the door to escape outside.
"Ok everyone, today we're going to start a new routine. When you come to the front door ready to go out we're going to play a game called "patdown."" I see the look of panic flash across Karen's face.

"You know Karen," I say as I pat her down,
"Most people don't have odd geometrical shapes, with sharp corners protruding from various points in their pants. Whatever could have accidentally fallen in there when you were getting dressed?" A slight smirk adorns her lips.
"Opps! A pudding. One pudding." she giggles.
"That's all?" I ask?
"Oh yes!" she replies in earnest
"Then the second pudding and chocolate chip granola bars must just be in my imagination." I say maintaining that ever important eye contact to show that today I mean business....for a change.
"You know that there is only one sweet snack and two healthy snacks for school!"
BUSTED!

Delay tactic #3:
"I can't find pants Mom!" Tara tries in a final desparate attempt to miss the bus.
"Well, I'm sure the kids won't laugh for more than a day or two when you show up to school in your underwear!" I try to put on my best serious face, which might I add in no way even remotely rivals hers!
I'm not quite sure what exactly she was mummbling to herself, but she came back with pants on ready for the bus.

The bus pulls away with three little....disgruntled schemers off for another day of learning.

"Good morning Sandi!" My 4th has taken to calling me by my less formal name, like her little friends. Not wanting to watch that bright eyed bushy tailed looking expression fade, I pick my battles carefully you know, I let it slide for now. I don't want to start off my day with tantrums and fits. (I don't have enough energy right now to throw one anyways.) I turn to her and smile.
"Good morning sweety! Let's go to Starbucks for coffee!"

See, somedays it's good to be a stay at home mom. Even better on the days that we beat the bus!

Beauman's Blue Mischief ~ "Mr. Blue"
~ February 8, 1993 - February 27, 2006~

Well Hello all!

Or as they say in Canadian "Hello all, eh!" I'm home for just a few days....I'm off to Boston next, later this week. I got to see some of the lovely attractions while I was in Vancouver. I can't believe how green the grass is and that there is no snow anywhere. (not that I know what snow looks like anyways.) Here I am looking out our hotel window. I have a lovely view of the parking lot. I know that normally this wouldn't be exciting, but hey, it's my first one.

I hear that Vancouver is on the western coast of the country, so when California goes under water when the big one comes, I guess Vancouver will be going too. I'd like to think they are talking about earthquakes when they say this and not gas. Both cause me rock like there's no tomorrow. One's just less scary to me than the other. Not that I'm experienced in this matter actually. I've still never been worn, and Sandi doesn't do "that" anyhow.

They did have an earthquake back home. We just missed it by a couple of hours. It was only 4.5, and there wasn't any damage.

Here we are out for dinner at the "Boathouse." Seafood of course. It's a good thing that Sandi isn't accompanying him on this trip. She heaves at the thought of the stuff. Not appealing on a date. I, on the otherhand don't mind going to seafood restraunts. Especially if it means getting out of the suitcase for a little fresh air. Always a pleasant thing when you are an undergarment.....fresh air I mean.[blush!]

Here I am overlooking the mountains....breathtaking aren't they [giggle]. I mean the mountains, not my stripes silly! I'm sure glad it wasn't windy or I might have been blown away in every sense of the word!

Much love, will write from Boston

Vicki Stripes
xoxoxox

Fairy Tale Wedding

Once upon a time
Not so long ago
A Princess fair met and wed
Her Prince whos name was Joe

This tale is not about them
In any shape or form
But about invited guests
Who just weren't quite the norm

As it usually happens
These guests can't get things right
If it's not one, it's the other
And it was the fellow this fine weddings night!

A lovely feast was spread
For all there to partake of
But while the fellow sat chatting
Others kept looking....above

Above his eyes to his brows
Something was not quite right
They couldn't look away
Try and try as they might

The wife of this finely groomed fellow
Knew just what was wrong
She left him alone with the clippers
And eyebrows he thought were too long!

So he clipped and clipped away
With the electrical beast
And in the end what came out
Wasn't what he had wanted in the least

You look like a transvestite
The astonished wife laughed
You're getting all dressed up for nothing
Cause still in the end you'll look daft

It's really quite hard
To make a mad face
When your eyebrows are thin
And gone at the base

Perhaps no one will notice
That you've shaved them away
You could borrow a dress
Go as a woman I'd say!

The solutions were none
They went anyway
A fun time was had by all
To remember for many a day


The very end

If only I had pictures!

Hi All,

Arrived safely in Vancouver. Will post again soon. I'm hoping to make it out of the suitcase this time.

Much Love,

Vicki Stripes
xoxox

It's been almost a week since I've posted anything. I've been on an impromtu vacation (in a rut). So here I am back temporarily.

Vicki Stripes is going to Vancover this week, not me.

My kids will be getting on the school bus and going off for a day of "work", not me.

The other half of me will be off working stressfully hard wishing he were home like me, but not me.

Tomorrow I will tackle the toilets and pick up the garbage the squirrels spread around (the black ones. The grey ones stare at me through the patio door until they drive me nuts....no pun intended.).....lucky me.

I fell off the wagon. I'm back at the bar.....of chocolate I mean. Nothing serious. Back to depriving myself again tomorrow. 5 days off and two days on.

I've added a cartoon a day early. Lucky you. Try not to laugh too loudly [eyes rolling here.]

To Mr. Perpetual Chocoholic aka Vicki Stripes' Travelling Partner

Hi all,

Well, I'm back from my trip. It was fabulous. I got to go to Santa Barbara via a flight out of Toronto. I flew business class in the overhead compartment, not in the cold bowels of the plane. I liked that.
No one offered me anything to eat or drink, which I'm a little disappointed about. You'd think my travelling companion was embarrased to be seen with me.

On the first day we drove past the ocean. I'm sure it was refreshing to feel the ocean breeze despite the scorching 95 degree temperature. I wouldn' t know. I was in the trunk of the car at the time. I hear there were surfers and people frolicing in the water. I'm sure their bathingsuits were enjoying themselves. [sigh]

The hotel was nice....from what I could tell from the inside of the shaving kit. My home. My prison.

Well at least I can say that I've been to Santa Barbara which is more than I can say for Sandi's butt. I have pamphlets to prove it. Will post pic's later.

Much Love,

Vicki Stripes
xoxoxo

It ALL Happend One Morning

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to get one pair of underwear into your husbands suitcase unoticed, wake up 15 minutes before the bus and provide on cartoon on your blog. Good luck. This message will not self destruct in 30 seconds, but will remain on your blog for what will seem like an eternity to remind you that you are truely the nut and not the magnet......

7:00am
*alarm goes off, radio accidentally turned down very low during the setting process which was at 12:30 am when I awoke and remembered I needed to make the kids lunches and clean the kitchen. (I lay down for "just one minute" at 10pm.)
*"One more minute, that's all I need"
*husband is absent and therefore can't remind me to get up. He is now in California with my Travelling underwear I have affectionately named "Vicki Stripes" (for vicariously)

7:30 am
*Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh! It's 7:30 am! 15 minutes to the bus!
*Run up stairs 2 at a time seeing stars the whole way. I got up a little too quickly I guess!
*Chicken little runs around the house yelling "the bus is coming ... the bus is coming!
*Stop to check self in the bathroom mirror. Don't want to frighten the kiddies.
*Look at aquarium. They really do have the most amazing looking fish now a days. Do you know that yesterday....I digress, back to panicing.
*Ahhhhhhhh! Get up! 15 minutes until the bus comes...
*Child #2 Miss Negative "we'll never make it Mom."
*Child #1 Miss Blank Stare "I can't find any pants."
*Chile #3 Miss Obstinate, no response. She'll get up when she's darn good and ready and the whole entire world can just go to H-E-Double hockey sticks! And apparently now, she's not ready. She is the equivalent of a cat in the human world.
*Cheese buns for breakfast....
*All children in various states of readiness turn up in the kitchen in a fraction of a second. They REALLY like cheese buns.
*I shove chunks of banana unattractively in each of their mouths with the chunks of cheese bun already floating around there. They think this is funny. I, on the other hand, fail to see the humour in this situation.

7:40 am
*All children stand fully dressed for one of the first truely chilly winter days this season. hair and teeth brushed (to the best of my knowledge.) and they look better than they usually do in the morning. They are .... amused.

7:41 am
*We are waiting for the bus. Hmmm. I don't think I like just waiting around like this. It's kind of boring actually being on time! No adrenalin rush, no high upon making it on time.

7:52 am
*Bus was a bit late today. Can you imagine!

New routine! Get up at this time every day!

8:00 am
*receive the following e-mail:

"You really did it! I can't believe it. Now I will have to try get a picture :-)"

I hid them in the little itty bitty pocket of his shaving kit. Taaa Daaa! Now I hope he remembers to buy a small pin or badge or something that I can put on them, otherwise I'll need to write on them. If he gets a picture of them there, I'll do a happy dance!

Well....I've completed my mission for today. I am the Queen of the Universe! Or Canada at least. I'll leave the take over of the States, or at least part of it to Fourth_Fret. Back to bed. Being Queen is exhausting!

It's been another uneventful weekend. I thank God for that. Only I don't have any blogging material. I must have successfully made myself look hideous enough to be unapproachable at the ski hill, because no one disturbed me. I had no job offers when shopping. We made it to the bus this morning with time to spare. The bus driver is starting to look bored as he pulls up to the house. Just another house....just another day.
I have become ordinary. Time to shake things up........

Oh ya! I almost forgot.....today is the big day to purchase the travelling underwear! They leave tomorrow for California and then Vancouver next week. I offered to buy boxers so they looked less conspicuous in the suitcase, but the other half of we said no. I guess he doesn't think I can slip them in unseen before he leaves. Hmmmm......I like a challenge now and again.

Brain Farts and Nut Cases

I took a trip this evening to buy ice skates at Walmart. For the normal person this would be an easy thing. For me, it's an exercise in the abnormal that I need to live through to find material to write about for this blog. I say that though, knowing of course that if I didn't have a blog these odd things would still happen to me. I just like to think that they have a purpose other than I'm just another nut magnet!

I was attempting to call home on a brand new (second hand) cell phone that my husband had just purchased for me. I was walking with the look of a person with a purpose I suppose, while staring at my new phone, attempting to get a stronger signal.

I was interupted by a woman with a heavy Eastern European accent asking me what I did for a living. She looked normal, pleasant and well groomed....clean. She appeared to be well spoken and intelligent.

Now I'm not one to give out personal information to perfect strangers in the middle of a Walmart, but my curiosity got the best of me and I gave her some uninformative vague answers to her questions.

I was a woman that was emitting great confidence, and purpose....apparently. She said I looked well put together. Snort! For a street person perhaps. Was I interested in a job for XYZ (false name of course) financial company? She pulled out a little pad and wrote her name and number and handed it to me. (What? No business card?) Ya thanks! I be calling you for a job tomorrow.

Some crazy things go through ones mind when these things happen like:

*Is she going to make a pass at me?
*She could use an appointment with a dentist for a whitening treatment.
*Lovely accent! I wonder if she ships unsuspecting women overseas to work as prostitutes. (and I'm such a fabulous pick!)
*Which "financial" company do you work for, really!? And how much do you get if I get hired on.
*Do you have someone behind me trying to get my wallet or are you just looney.

While I stood there waiting for my improptu interview end, it hit me! I forgot to put on my scary unapproachable face before leaving the house darn it! Not that it matters, because it makes me that much more of a challenge! It's the nose. I have a little cute turned up nose that makes me look friendly, approachable and like a sucker. The kind of nose that makes Tom Hanks look perpetually boyish despite his advancing in years. Yes, it's the nose!


Oh and here's one for Mr. Incredulous at People Say Stupid Things:

The phone rang the other day, which I made the rare mistake of answering. I rarely do. That is indeed what answering machines are for! TO WEED OUT THE LOONIES PEOPLE!

"Hello, I'm calling from blah, blah, blah, and I would like to talk to you about the Consumers Choice Awards." said the poor interviewer on the other end of the line.

"Oh, no, I'm not interested in participating. I never watch that show." I muttered distractedly as I turned and hung up the phone.

Then it hit me. He wasn't calling about the "People's Choice Awards." Like someone would be calling Canada about that anyhow. After I had finished laughing I thought of Mr. I sitting in the place of the interviewer, shaking his head and then writing about my brain fart on his blog the next day.

I think I spend too much time looking at blogs. I'm starting to connect my everyday life with them far too much! LOL.

Ok! My underwear may not be going to Japan after all now, but they will be going to Santa Barbara, CA. I think.... Santa something or other. (NO, not Clause, ha ha!) Somehow it's not the same.

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.

S.

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!

Hagus the Horrible

There are many things that I never thought I'd ever hear myself say during my time as a parent. Never in my wildest dreams did I ever think I'd have to tell my children......

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.

chew....chew.....chewwwww.
heave!
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!

Ok. I've got a system going here. Some fish....unlike most normal people, eat their young. I have primarily female fish with the odd male. (Odd in every sense of the word.) My good friend and neighbour across the street (that I just met in September after living across from her for eons) has an all male tank and a separate tank for fry. I send her the baby guppies, mollies and cross-bred fish ("Flash n' Dash, one of my guppies only liked to hang out with the Mollie chicks, shunning his own kind.) I dunno, call 'em "gollies, or muppies"

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!

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?

Vivre Quebec

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!