Moments...

~At the grocery store: "I'm sorry Micah, just not thinking to well right now."

"Well, maybe right after you were officiating at a funeral is not the best time to be at the grocery store."

Hmmm. Sometimes my kids are the voice of reason.


~Listening to my dad, "I hate Don Cherry. When he opens his mouth, his brain falls out."

Joey: "Opa, he is JUST LIKE YOU! That is probably why you don't like him."

Hmmm. Sometimes my kids are dead on. 


~Present obsession: Fondue. I  have a huge fondue obsession these days. Not sure why but I think we have enough left overs for tomorrow. Yay.


~Odd occurrence: Yesterday Joey was crossing the street, afoot and legally, with friends. So when a driver turned right illegally, he whacked the back of the car. Something he has seen Rob do (I am not co-ordinated enough for the procedure, though I wish I were. Basically it kind of freaks the driver out and lets him know that something bad has happened without hurting anyone.)

The driver got out of the car and started to yell at him. He remained perfectly calm and told the driver that no, he would not listen to his abuses, as the driver had made an illegal right turn and almost run over pedestrians.

That boy. He is only 16. Maintained his cool. Told someone to calm down. I have to admire him, even if I said that he should be sure he has a place to run if the crazy driver has a weapon.

Hmmm. Sometimes my  kids are braver than I ever would have been. 

"I think I would like to go to the funeral."

Sometimes my kids are touched by a life that meant more to them in a few short hours than I could imagine.

On the way to the funeral, I saw someone I knew. "Hey! There's Mr. Monkman!"

Sometimes I am surprised that I recognize a person pushing a shopping cart on the street. You know that you're not working at a classy place when you start knowing street people by name. But you do get the sense that you're working at the place that you want to be.

Another goodbye

My very dear friend and coworker died last night.

Probably why I've been pretty quiet here.

I'll be officiating at my first funeral.

Surreal.

One of the few times...

when I have thought that "WTF" is actually in order...

Sitting here...

staring at Creat Post.

Not feeling terribly creative. Give me a topic upon which to expound, and I shall comply.

The Voice of Reason....

Who, indeed, wants to read all that Dickens?

When all I've been able to manage in the past is A Christmas Carol and some Oliver Twist?

Does anyone really love Dickens? Like, I'm going to snuggle up under a blanket and read for a few hours?

Let me know!!

A new challenge?

An old friend sent me this list that was floating around Facebook and put out by the BBC.  I didn't really look at it much at the time because I thought maybe it was kind of snobby to say how many books you had read and so I didn't look at it too carefully.

But now I am thinking it might be a good challenge to read the ones I haven't... though it means that I'll need to slog through a whole lot of Charles Dickens.



~1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
~2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
~3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
~4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
~5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
~6 The Bible
~7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
~8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
~11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
~13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
~15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
~16 The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulks
~18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
~19 The Time Traveler’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
~21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
~25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
~27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
~29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
~30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
~31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
~33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
~34 Emma - Jane Austen
~35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
~36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
~37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
~39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
~40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
~41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
~42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
~44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
~46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
~49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
~51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
52 Dune - Frank Herbert
53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
~54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
~55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
~56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
~61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
~66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
~68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
~70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
~71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
~72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
~73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
75 Ulysses - James Joyce
76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
78 Germinal - Emile Zola
~79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
80 Possession - AS Byatt
~81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
~83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
~86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
~87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
~88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
~89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
~90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
~91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
~92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
~94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
~97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
~98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
~99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
~100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo 


I have read quite a few of them, I think, and have tried to read a few others. I have to say I'm glad that I read Vanity Fair, because I hated it and would not want to read it again. (Editorial note: Just realized that it is the Bonfire of the Vanities that I've read and not Vanity Fair. B of the V was b-o-r-i-n-g and annoying, I thought. Though I did finish it through sheer determination.)



Glad I've done the Bible, too, because wow that is a long piece of literature. But quite amazing, from a purely literary perspective. Honest folks, you don't have to be a believer to appreciate the sheer magnitude of it. Some day I'd like to write a "Sleazy Stories of the Bible" book because by gum the bible is full of sleaze and imperfect people. 


I picked up Rebecca somewhere, not sure where. But I loved it.



Read The Catcher in the Rye but couldn't see what all the fuss was about. Except that JD Sallinger disappeared. Or whatever.


The Hobbit is my favourite of all the Tolkien books. 


A Suitable Boy is one of my top, top books. But it is so long (broken up into three separate paper backs) that I don't think I will read it again. 


Memoirs of a Geisha is a lovely book. But I don't think The DaVinci Code should be on the list. I know it's really popular and everything, but so are the Berenstein Bears. 

Bridget Jones Diary is great fun. But where is the Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Aged 13 3/4? I think Adrian Mole is more inventive than Bridget.



So many people have told me I would like The Lovely Bones. I'm sure I will, but the premise has me a little leery.


Watership Down? Oh how I loved that book when I was 10 or so. I read it to my kids but Joey lost interest pretty fast. Rabbits? What? Doing What? I loved it at 35 almost as much as I loved it at 10. But he wrote another book, a horrible one about dogs in a lab that escape or something. And while it was good, it was less lovely.



They could populate the list with anything by Roald Dahl and I would be happy. Love love love Roald.


I found the Shadow of the Wind somewhere in Europe. So maybe that's why I loved it so very much. But what. a. book. 


Where is The Pillars of the Earth on this list?


A Fine Balance. A Fine Book. And the Kite Runner, as well. 


Jane Austin/Emily Bronte. Why do I always think they are basically the same person? Still, fun reads. 


Really liked Dracula. Read it just this past year. Micah went through a classics phase and it rubbed off on me.



Anyway. Could go on, but won't. And I just may try to read the rest of the list. But why is Hamlet separate from The Complete Works of Shakespeare? And why is The Lion The Witch and The Wardrobe separate from The Narnia Chronicles?

But it's just...

No romance.

No self help.

No tired authors who have written more than 45 books in the last 6 years.

That's not too narrow, is it?

Reading...

The Book of Negroes by Lawrence Hill. Amazing book about former slaves who were evacuated from New York to Nova Scotia by the British after the American Revolutionary War. They expected freedom and free land and in many cases got neither. At the point of the book that I'm at, some of  them have taken up the offer to go to Sierra Leone.

It's a great read.

And the book I've just finished:

Loving Frank by Nancy Horan. It's a fictionalized account of a real life affair that Frank Lloyd Wright had with one of his clients. It's all based on fact, newspaper articles, journals, etc. Wow. Another great read.

It's been so nice to have two good books in a row after a very, very long dry spell. I don't think I've loved a book since we got back from our trip. Far too long to go without something fabulous to read.

I haven't watched any movies, either. I just don't seem to have the attention span these days. Don't know why.

Anyway, I am up for some book lending, if any of you have a must read. Don't want anything self-helpy though. So don't tell  me to read anything written by Dr. Phil and people like him. And I find anything by Chuck Swindoll is great for starting fires when you're camping.  I am sure he is a very nice man, but he hasn't written an original thought since 1976.

And I am tired of Patricia Cornwall. I think Patricia Cornwall is tired of Patricia Cornwall, as well. Her murders keep getting more gruesome and the people in them keep getting more and more one dimensional.

And Romance novels make me shudder. Notice I said shudder, not shiver. Any kind of romance novel. Icky.

I am meaning to read The Flying Troutmans by Miriam Toews, which Joey loved, but he scammed it off me when I was 1/3 of the way through and now I have to re-enter, which is always a little bit hard, even if you were loving the book.

My beautiful Boy

"You have beautiful boys," said the Kenyan woman that the Tree People Store at the Forks when I went there with Joey and Micah to choose a gift for Kristen, their cousin who had spent time in Africa.

They were interested and they asked questions and they listened to her when she told them about some of the items there.

"I think they're beautiful, too," I replied.

Today is Joey's 16th birthday. From the time he was a teeny five pound infant, I called him beautiful, and so it was lovely to hear, just before his birthday, that someone else, a stranger, saw his beauty as well.

And so I'd like to make a list of things about Joey that I like.

His wicked sense of humour.
His alter ego, Moochy.
His approach to traveling. Explore, discover, experience.
His ability to express himself.
His poetry.
His music.
His hair.
His strong, coordinated body.
His interest in the natural world.
His sense of observation.
His love of reptiles.
His ability to be affectionate, even though he's getting older.
His gifts of encouragement and leadership.
His willingness to take on challenges bigger than himself and risk failure... taking Francais and Pre-Calculus are evidence of that.
His love of great food and his ability to cook it.
His artistic eye and flair for photography.
His personal convictions and his commitment to stay true to himself.
His faith life~quirky, non conventional and real.
His interest in people who are different than himself and his willingness to accept them.

My beautiful boy. Happiest of birthdays.

Everybody's talkin' 'bout Swine Flu

and my kid has got pink eye.

Micah practically jumped for joy when he discovered he had pink eye yesterday, fervently prayed for it to stick around long enough for him to miss a day of school.

Well he was a wee bit red still this morning and there just the very teensiest bit of discharge, but the hope in his good eye and the look on his face contributed to my diagnosis of "still contagious."

Now if there is anyone in the world who would not pass on pink eye due to good hygiene, it would be Micah. He is the most faithful hand washer I know, without being downright obsessive about it.

Anyway, Micah will be home today and feeling groovy.

His only moment of panic came when I said, "Don't be too happy about pink eye. It can make you go blind, you know."

I guess I really am a bad mother.

D@%n Timechange

It's 8:42 pm and I am exhausted.

And even though we 'gained' an hour by 'falling' back (load of crap) I slept in this morning.

At least I don't have to worry about my babies waking up at 5 in the morning anymore. The numbers on the clock never meant much to them.

And do you know that your commute to work tomorrow will be more dangerous than usual? There are more car accidents the morning after the time change.

The time change makes me cranky.

Bright spots

This was a really hard week for me, but as I look back there were a lot of little bright spots, too.

~Yesterday, based on my soup, Marvin Smoker said, "You make a good Indian." High praise from a respected elder and dancer. I was pretty much over the moon.

~A little gift for helping me meditate from a dear friend.

~Watching Joey's and Micah's crested gecko video.

~My rainy/breezy/beautiful day bike rides. They all feel good, in any weather. For YEARS Rob has been trying to convince me that weather really doesn't make a difference when you're biking. I must say that after YEARS of resisting, I have to agree.

~Floating in the hot tub. (Thank you Wes and Linda, for sharing so very graciously.)

Oh so sleepy

Wow. Do I ever feel boring these days, but I do so hate it when I ignore my little blog for too long.

And so I started daydreaming about San Francisco. We didn't spend nearly enough time in San Fran, but the few days that we did spend there were absolutely lovely. We drove the coast of California, which is just about one of the most beautiful places on earth, I believe.

Anyway, we loved San Francisco, and even more so after we ditched the Bed and Breakfast that we had booked. It was a HUGE crumbling old mansion, inhabited by one lone elderly woman. We were the only guests, and the guestbook did not have a lot of signatures. It felt really run down and deserted, and after we walked all the way up to the third floor (and discovered that Joey and Micah would sleep on one side of the 30 room home and Rob and I would sleep on the other) Joey walked into the room and said, "Mom. I canNOT sleep here tonight."

Well, I was already getting the creep vibes and when he told me that on one of the steps, the third from the top or whatever, he had a strong sense that someone had died, I felt even wierder. I had thought, on that exact same step, that someone had certainly committed suicide in that house, or been pushed down the staircase.

Violent death, either way.

And since I had already been plotting how we could be closer together, and had looked with relief at the fact that we were close to an emergency fire exit (that opened onto a very rickety but comforting outdoor stairway) I started to think that there was maybe something to the odd sense that something was really wrong.

And so we re-packed our bags as quick as we could and high tailed it out of there while the woman who cast no shadow went to a meeting.

We ended up in downtown San Francisco, close to the famous tenderloin district, in a hotel that seemed to cater to budget travellers and by-the-hour renters.

Sure it was a little seedy, and the 'continental breakfast' was pre-packaged danishes and instant coffee, but the parking was free, our room was huge, and we were happy as there appeared to be no ghosts.

We had to pay for both places in the end, but we all decided it would have been worth double that to get us out of the haunted mansion.

*Sigh*

A long day. Good, but long.

Lots to deal with. Or Lots with which to deal, depending on your preference.

Bumped into someone at the grocery store the other day that I hadn't seen in about a year and she asked how our trip was.

Hard to condense six months into a chance encounter.

But I find myself dreaming of Stonehenge. And the bakeries of Paris. And the crazy fish in Spain. And the beaches of California. And the buses in Mexico. And the Netherlands, home of my heart.

Must. Go. Back.

Little bits

Two of our community members made the switch from "here" to "participating" today. It might not last until tomorrow, but for today, it was success. Plus, it meant that I didn't need to haul chairs and heavy boxes all over the building.

Was told by Micah that no matter what, I find something wrong with whatever we are watching on television. And when I think a professional woman (like a CSI-y scientist) is showing more cleavage than your average scientist, I am told that, "it's no more cleavage than my teacher would show."

"YOUR TEACHER SHOWS CLEAVAGE?!!!!"

And so it goes. Might be why my kids don't care to watch TV with me.

Sorry guys. I'm a pretty good mom, other than that.

The 400 Block of Selkirk Ave

The place that I work.

I think I am starting to belong.

Holy Ground

I trod on holy ground today.

Ground that heard an ancient Cree woman sing songs to someone who answered back with Negro spirituals.

Ground that bid farewell to one who had died, and held another who knows her time here is short.

Ground that welcomed rich and poor, prostitutes and drug addicts, the downtrodden and the powerful, without prejudice or preconcieved ideas.

Kinda like the ground that Jesus walked on.

I think.

Fare thee well

Learned this morning that the woman I am replacing here, which was to be for a time until she could return, died last night.

She was surrounded by the people she loved most and also her dog, a devoted golden retriever.

A very hard time.

How fun

Found a site, Photoshop of Horrors, or something like that. This was my favourite image.

Prayer and Cookies

I was visiting with someone the other day and I was so pleased she brought me a whole box of eggs from a farmer friend. I was happy because I had wanted to bake cookies today and the only ingredient I was missing was eggs.


And so we have peanut butter cookies and chocolate chip cookies on the go this afternoon.

Anyway, we were visiting and she talked about needing to take more time to pray... not to be distracted by other things. And she mentioned that baking cookies was one of those distractions.

Since she didn't know I was planning to bake, I know it wasn't meant as a reprimand.

But later, as I mixed eggs, sugar, flour, leavening, I thought, baking cookies feels like a prayer to me. And serving them to people, an offering.

Jed's Moment of Glory

We did the big walk today, all the way around the park. And in the place where there is usually a small flock of seagulls we happened upon a rather large flock of Canada Geese.

Jed took off and ran straight for the flock of geese. I kinda wondered if they would actually take off or if they would stick around and fight him for the right to the park, but in a chorus of honking and flapping, they headed for the river. Jed had a moment of glory with the geese all lifting off around him.

Now if that doesn't boost your average dog's self esteem, I don't know what would.

100 Things

Every year about this time I write my list of 100 things for which I am thankful. I suppose it is time to do it again. So here it is, in no particular order...

1. Gouda cheese
2. My Dutch heritage
3. My extended family
4. My two beautiful, remarkable sons
5. Yoga
6. Coffee
7. Good decaf
8. Red wine
9. Our stemless, IKEA wineglasses

10. Feta cheese
11. Airmiles
12. Our house is just a few weeks shy of absolutely beautiful
13. Yuki Sushi at the Maclaren Hotel. If you live in Winnipeg, you really must try it.
14. My job. I don't think there are too many places where the executive director can work, "Pick green tomatoes from garden and make green tomato pickles" into their job description.
15. My beautiful floors... you must come and see them
16. My bike
17. Tylenol, Ibuprofen
18. Natural peanut butter
19. The park by my house


20. The rivers in Winnipeg
21. Travel, and dreams of more travel
22. Snow. Yes, honestly. It's a little too early this year but I am thankful for snow
23. Joey's school. I am SO pleased he can go to the U of W Collegiate
24. Health. I know two people who are dying before their time and I recognize that health is a gift, every day.
25. The flowers and landscaping along Waterfront Drive, where I bike almost every day. The snapdragons were still standing up to the snow when I went home on Friday.
26. Sandy, my number one ally at work. He is taking care of me and training me for my job.
27. My scrappy sack. It accompanied us on all our travels and now every day it sits in my bike basket on the way to work. It's bright and cheerful and my sister made it. It makes me feel good.
28. Real butter.
29. Meditation

30. Honey and honey makers. We were at the Forks yesterday for the honey exhibit. People who make honey are the sweetness of the earth.I don't think you can be a bee keeper and be a crabby person.
31. Fresh herbs
32. Nail clippers. Must be sharp to make me truly thankful
33. My faith community
34. I'm so thankful I don't have to go to Women's Aglow.
35. George's beautiful cabinets. I can't wait to see my red kitchen.
36. Our wee little lap top
37. Bread
38. And more specifically, red wine and shallot bread from Le Croissant
39. A good egg, perfectly poached or boiled

40. Comfortable jeans
41. My parents
42. My kitchen window seat
43. Listening to Micah play his violin at the Forks. Seeing people respond to him.
44. Books
45. The magic of paint
46. Indoor plumbing
47. The smell of cooking turkey
48. Garlic
49. Lemon

50. Chickpeas
51. Early morning dog walks
52. Impromptu dinner parties
53. Sparkling water
54. Bike helmets
55. Hand cream
56. Tetracycline... the pimple deterrent drug I used as a teenager, which probably saved my self esteem. Well, the little I had at the time.
57. The Furminator. If you have a hairy dog, get one even though they are impossibly expensive. They will cut your vacuum time in half
58. Being literate
59. Being able to cook

60. Knowing lots of my mom's recipes
61. Joey's music
62. Health care
63. My great doctor
64. Couchsurfing.com
65. Fall colours
66. The smell of orange trees in bloom
67. Dog kibble. If I had to make any effort at all in feeding the dogs, they would probably go hungry
68. Central vaccuum
69. Sweet smelling babies

70. Flowers
71. Canada
72. My Canadian passport
73. Gortex
74. Wool
75. Long johns
76. My red couch
77. The instruments in our house
78. Good sharp knives. For cooking, of course
79. And following, my knife sharpener

80. The moon. I was really disturbed when NASA said they were going to blow up the moon and I thought, "What if they wreck the moon?" And I realized how much I liked the moon and how thankful I was for it.
81. The Office. Oh how it makes me laugh
82. Corrective eye lenses
83. Elephant seals
84. Whales
85. Other marine mammals
86. Going to theme parks even though I don't like the rides much
87. Holidays
88. Dishwashers
89. Friends~I can't name you all...

90. The crossword
91. Changing seasons
92. Jed and all his dog cousins
93. Simple drives along River Road
94. Joann's Blog Adventure... a faithful blogger if there ever was one
95. And her zippy daughter Nadia. As well as the equally zippy Janaya and the creative and darling Maddie. All girls I wish I could have been friends with when I was 5-9 years old
96. The sensations of joy and happiness and pleasure. Really, we didn't NEED to feel those things to survive from a biological standpoint but they are such great gifts
97. Smudging
98. That I can continue to learn, and will continue to learn, every day, until I die
99. Organza

100. Robert. Star of my night sky. Need I say more?

Hmmm....

Now I really like Barak Obama. Plus, he's handsome and has a great looking family. Lots of charisma happening, etc.

But isn't it just a wee bit early for a Nobel Peace Prize? I don't think I would dare accept it at this point, were I him. Until I knew I did something worthy of Ghandi and Mother Teresa and Nelson Mandela. And stuff.

Well well

Today we had nurses here from Aboriginal Health. They come every few weeks to do blood pressure and blood sugar testing, and I thought I might as well get tested.

Not because, you know, I need it or anything.

Except I found out my blood pressure was 142/97!!

EEEP!

That is way, WAY too high. Especially since I do yoga and bike every day.  What gives? I was expecting it to be in the lower ranges.

So today I feel a wee bit odd. (And don't worry mom, I've already made a doctor's appointment.)

Time to knock off the salt.

My theory

My theory is simple, and it is thus:

Jed thinks he smells best when he smells like the feces of various animals.

I think he smells best when he smells like his doggy shampoo.

As his olfactory sense is far greater than mine, you could surmise that I am wrong, indeed, and missing out on the subtleties that render animal dung pleasant.

Be that as it may, I am going to win this one. So whenever Jed stops and drops, I stop him before he begins to roll. And the times he comes home slightly more odiferous than when we left?

Bath time. Because I'm the mom. And that means I'm always right.

Where did the week go?

Wow. I think this was one of the busiest weeks I have ever had.

It's all a blur. Seems like a dream.

I do remember, vividly, eating an omelet fried in lard and topped in cheese that someone cooked up for me at work. I don't think I have eaten anything fried in lard, ever. It tasted surprisingly good. But I had a slight case of heartburn for the rest of the day. And I feel the need for a very long and cleansing bike ride today.

I also remember that Rob's nephew had a baby girl. She is the first baby of the new generation. Molly. I love that name. In a new millennium kind of moment, we found out on facebook. It's fine for a happy birth kind of thing, but I sure hope I never find out that someone close to me has died on facebook.

There are some homeless men who sleep in the park by our home. They bed down in plastic and blankets and such by the river. Yesterday morning, I was just entering the park and one of the homeless men walked by.

"Nice day," I said in reference to the glorious fall morning and also to wish him well.

"Nope." He said, most definitely, in reply.

Anyway, the busy-ness hasn't ended yet. Today I need to do a big apartment clean up. Also, get some clothes at MEC so I can keep biking even when the weather turns. And Wes and Linda are moving into the house today. It's not yet finished, but it is habitable. So I'll take care of supper and such.  And we have a friend who is turning 40 this weekend, so we'll pop over to his house to offer our best wishes. And Joey is giving his snakes their first feeding. Somehow we'll all get involved in that.

And more will unfold. That's to be expected.

My anti-graffiti strategy

There is a group of boys who hang around our building, none of them look much older than 12. They may go to school sporadically, but it seems that they mostly just hang around.

They are almost certainly the cause of at least some of our grafitti.

We have a few new anti-grafitti plans in the works. Painting over the tags within 3 days is one of them. Regular power washing is another. I'd like to get the Mosquito Device although I must say their advertising makes me a little uncomfortable, as if all teens are vermin and must be repelled.

However, we'd only run it at night, when all the teens who are not doing graffiti and climbing on our roof and throwing rocks at passing cars are safely in bed. Or at least doing homework or watching TV at home.

Anyway, because I am looking for simple ways to connect with people, I decided to bake cookies today. I am a darn good cookie baker. And I baked some cookies that were close to an A+. Chocolate chip. With real butter. Tender-crisp. As good as I can get them.

Anyway, I took a plate out to our graffiti gang. And the first thing they did was eye me warily. And the next thing they did, when they saw what I was carrying, was rush me. And as I was saying, "I think there's enough if you all have two," the first boy to reach me was grabbing all that he could hold right off the plate. Good thing he had small hands and only nabbed four.

Luckily I had a few left inside so the poor boy who wasn't quick enough (the others were not going to let go of the cookies they grabbed) had a few as well. When I came out to bring him his personal plate of cookies, I saw that all the others had already eaten every last crumb and were licking the warm chocolate off their hands.

They are a little like unruly puppies. No one has thought to teach them manners. They didn't know how to say, "Thank you," and they didn't know how to share.

But they had pretty big smiles and they were all smacking their lips. One gave me a look with his big brown eyes that was all the thanks I needed.

I am going to bring my graffiti boys cookies at every opportunity. One of our volunteers thinks it might be dangerous and "before you know it, they'll be coming in here looking for you."

Now that wouldn't be so bad, would it?

Yay!

They were back this morning, bundled for the weather.

My ride

My morning bike ride is perfection. I love every bit of it. But this morning reminded me that winter would come and the weather would be, at times, brutal.

I will miss my early morning Chinese walkers. Four to eight women dressed in sunhats, brightly coloured blouses, and slacks, trailed by one elderly man.





He makes me think of a very gentlemanly rooster with his hens. Or perhaps an old sheepdog, if sheepdogs could hold roll your own cigarettes.

Not one of them is over 5 feet tall, and they are always very friendly and they all wave when I pass by. Sometimes they are stretching to prepare for the walk, sometimes I meet up with them a little farther on. The women are always talking and laughing, the man is very silent, only speaking when he wants to warn them that I am coming up behind them and they should make a wee bit of room on the trail.

I didn't see them this morning. I fear they might not walk when it is cold, and I will surely wait for spring and their reappearance, along with the daffodils.

They've arrived!

And without a hitch.

You can see, by the photo, the reason these snakes are called Ball Pythons, and if you have a bit of a snake phobia, then this would be the first snake you'd want to hold.

They are super calm, docile snakes. They are beautifully patterned. They are miracles of muscle and movement.

Really.

You should give them a try sometime. Last night I was holding this one and she was pretty much in this position. Except her tongue was right by my palm and she kept flicking it. Ticklish!

Just consider me your snake evangelist and come on over. Joey will intoduce you to his pretties.

Today is the day

At 4:30 pm, we'll be picking up from the airport the three newest members of our household.

Joey worked for most of the summer, and with his summer money, he's invested in three adult ball pythons and an amazing enclosure.

These ball pythons are not just any kind of snake. They are super-interesting, genetically, and a potential source of income. If you breed the right types of dominant, co dominant, and recessive genes together, you can produce snakes that are worth a lot of money.

Personally, I can't wait until Joey takes genetics in Science class because after all that he's learned about genes, he'll be pulling off high marks with ease.

In the meantime, we wait. He's getting everything ready for the big moment and it does remind me of a father preparing the nursery for a new baby.

We are hoping for a timely flight and a capable crew of cargo-men and women so that these precious beings will arrive safe and sound.

And if you are patient, I'll finally post some pictures here again and you'll be able to see real photographs of ME! with a snake draped around my neck.

Yup. True.

It took me a long time...

but I have morphed into a pretty faithful dog walker. Jed has been very patient, over the past few years, waiting for me to make it a daily occurance, rain or shine.

Though I suppose on those cold, driving rain type days, I can still be pursuaded to give the walk a pass.

Lately I've noticed a change in the behavioural habits of my dogs. Jed the coonhound, always the sniffer, has become even more obsessed with the scents of autumn.

I walk them through the park at the end of my street and since it is almost always deserted, I let them off leash. They get a wee bit too far away sometimes and when I call them, Dixie, who used to just follow Jed where ever he went, comes bounding over, her tail waving like a flag.

Jed continues to sniff, and sniff, and sniff and sniff. Then he reluctantly tears his nose away from the ground and trots over, sniffing most of the way.

I think it must be some kind of ancestral, genetic code that calls to him. Except I fear Jed would have never made it as a hunter. He barely notices squirrels and rabbits and other small game. Maybe it's because he's holding out for a raccoon. But he's also inclined to lose toys and nose right over them without noticing.

Anyway, I'm sure this autumnal sniffing will pass with the thrill of snow, when everything old smells new again, and for now, I'll let Jed continue pretending to be a real hunting dog.

On tagging

Heather tagged me for a little blog challenge. The rules are:

1. Open your first photo folder.
2. Scroll to the 10th photo.
3. Post the photo on your blog and tell the story behind it.
4. Tag some CREATIVE JUICY people to do the same!

So here goes:

 
I'll call it experiments in snow.

Last Christmas, my little laptop was brand new and so our Christmas 2008 photos were the first downloaded. Joey took this on Christmas day when we were at George and Yvonne's. This is one of their garden wagons. I believe George made it, and the light dusting of snow on it made Joey look for a fresh angle.

I think I'll tag Alisha and Larissa, because I am sure they both have lots of photos on their computers.

See me over there

Did a little post at Heather's What are you giving away? site.

Lost Dogs

Over the course of our renovations, we had to remove part of our fence so we could move building supplies in and out of the yard.

It's a little tricky, but if we lean up some plywood, it's quite fence-like, at least to the dogs, and we can let them out on their own for a while.

The only problem is that sometimes people remove the plywood to get something and it is a pain to move it back if you are carrying supplies. When that happens, the dogs have been known to escape.

Neither of them are really adventurous, so they never go too far, but there's always that sinking feeling when you think they might be gone.

Yesterday I did a very careful check of the perimeter, determined it to be invincible, and let the dogs out. After 10 minutes or so, I thought I should check them. When I noticed the fence was down, I called them but they didn't come.

Darn. Time to go looking for the dogs.

I rounded the corner into the driveway, and lo and behold, they were both sitting in the back seat of Wes' car, one on each side, seatbelts on, ready for a road trip.

Okay, so they weren't wearing seatbelts, but they sure looked like they would have if they could have gotten their paws on the buttons. They were very disappointed when I invited them back inside.

Learning to Smudge

I've started a blog about work, but I think I should keep it a little more private.

If you are interested in reading my work related thoughts, send me a little note and I could add you to my list.

One of those things...

that make me glad I'm a woman.

One of my new tasks as executive director includes changing the toilet paper in the bathrooms when we run out during the day.

Today was my first time in the men's washroom.

The sign above the toilet:

"PLEASE

DO NOT PEE

ALL OVER THE FLOOR

OR ON

THE TOILET SEAT.

PLEASE

PEE IN THE BOWL."

You want a glamorous blog? You'll have to try someone else. And I think if I want a glamorous job, I may have to go somewhere else.

Glamour doesn't really become me, anyway.

Why I miss the Flintstones

The Flintstones were so joyously politically incorrect. Before we even knew what politically incorrect was.

I'll always be fond of the Flintstones because one of my childhood memories includes cramming into my dad's laZboy along side him at lunch time and watching the Flintstones. My dad worked long hours but he was home for lunch almost every day.

It was one of the things I really missed when I had to go to Grade 1. I never did find out if he watched them without me.

Today is the day

We have to finalize all our colour choices, countertop choices, everything choices, for our house. We continue to move closer to 'finished' and I am pretty excited with the way our little space is coming together. It feels really cozy.

And today is also the day that I celebrate TWO weeks of work. This has been quite an easy transition, actually, and I must say the lifestyle is really healthy for me.

I get up around 7, take the dogs for a 20 minute romp in the park. I come back and get ready for the day, eat a bowl of cereal, and bike another 20 minutes along lovely paths to work. Once I get there, I can't bring myself to eat much more than a very simple sandwich or a small bit of leftovers. Many of the people who come to the centre eat one meal per day at a soup kitchen or at the nuns, and so showing up with a fabulous lunch would be really cruddy.

So I enjoy every bite of my mayo and meat sandwich at noon.

I pedal home at 5, eat (Oh I am so lucky Linda is doing the cooking these days) and then usually give the dogs another romp before we all go to bed.

I've got some great incentives for the bike ride, too. I had to drive one day last week and it took me 40 minutes to get home. Yes, for a 20 minute bike ride. If I walked, it would probably take me about 50 minutes and the drive is usually just 10. Driving through rush hour makes me cranky, but biking home lifts my spirits. I keep wanting to say to all the bikers I pass, "Aren't we SO lucky?" because they all look happy, too.

My perfect line...

a few minutes too late...

Yesterday a guy pedaled up onto our driveway right after I came home from work. He was older, looked pretty used up. He was driving a nice shiny young adult mountain bike with lots of special little extras.

"Hey, anybody here want to buy a mountain bike?"

I really wanted to punch him because I am darn sure that bike was stolen. But you really don't want to mess around too much with a guy who wants to make a quick buck on a stolen bike.

Instead I gave him a pointed look and said, "No thanks. I JUST LOCKED UP MY OWN BIKE." He kinda looked back and pedaled off and rolled the bike right into Club St. Boniface. Probably hoping to directly trade the bike for a beer from the bartender.

Anyway, after he left, I thought of the perfect thing to say if that ever happens to me again.
I will say, "Hey... is that bike stolen?"

And then of course he will say that it isn't. And then I'll say, "Oh that's too bad. I only buy stolen bikes."

A few days earlier I was a little more with it, however. I was walking the dogs at night and three men stumbled out of the bar. I absolutely did not get good vibes off them... they felt like dangerous drunks, not like nice drunks. And one of them said, "Hey. Nice dogs," as they walked towards me.

I ignored them and sped up just a bit. And then he said, "Hey. Are those dogs friendly?"

"No. Vicious." I was really cranky that night and they were kind of menacing so it was easy to sound like I meant it.

"They don't LOOK too vicious," said Mr. Drunk Guy.

"They'll bite your hand right off if I tell them to," I answered, using my best and most powerful projection.

And they stopped walking towards me and backed off. Thanks Jed and Dixie. My vicious, hand biting dogs.