Front loading washing machines

The dirty little secret.

We have stayed in a large number of homes over the past 6 or 7 months and one thing I've noticed is that everyone in North America who has a front loading washing machine has given me their 'smell control' tips.

Everything from wiping out the entire washing machine every time they use it, to leaving the door ajar, to running it without clothes, just hot water and baking soda, after they use it. If you google "smelly front loading washing machine" or some such combination you come up with over 100 000 results.

We were looking for a washer a little while ago and when I mentioned this to the salesperson, he said, "Oh, those were the first generation washers. These are second generation and the problem has been dealt with."

Well, I know someone who has a second generation front loader and the issue is the same. A funny musty smell, almost with the first washing.

They tell you it is the soap, but really, does that make any sense at ALL? They say it's the suds collecting in the nooks and crannies of the washer that causes the mold smell. But since when did soap get moldy? Since when did soap ever smell musty?

I noticed that none of the front loaders we used in Europe had the same problem and I have a little theory... they all have much smaller washers. In Europe, "large capacity" probably means you can wash more than 3 pairs of jeans at one time. But there's no smell. And I noticed that they have a way of sealing the door without rubber, or with very little rubber.

No rubber, no smell.

When the door is much larger and it takes a lot more to seal it, I believe you get more smell.

At least that's my theory.

In the meantime, I'm wondering if anyone has found a front loader in North America that doesn't need any special care to keep it odor free.

Smokie speaks again

Smokie the cat is once again taking over my blog, since I don't have much to say and she apparently has a lot to say. All I want to mention is that while Smokie seems to think the day didn't go very well, we are all happy and having a good time. And she spent most of the day napping on the couch so it wasn't like she was having to work really hard or anything. Anyway, here's Smokie.

Dear Ray and Jayne

Today was terrible. Simply terrible.

You know how Sun can be... apparently on his walk last night he ate part of an ice cream from the Bridge Drive In and what's her name didn't get him off of it quickly enough. So he spent part of last night and this morning puking.

He's better now, but since he puked all over his paws and his chest, they were discussing what they should do about it.

Well one thing led to another and before you know it they were talking about shaving it off... can you believe it?! So she (I refuse to use her name) googled "Shave Golden Retriever" and came up with images, images of Golden Retrievers that had been shaved.

You'd think it was a joke, the way she was laughing. Apparently she found this photo especially hilarious.

You actually TRUST people who find a naked Golden Retriever funny?

You'll be relieved to know that this isn't Sun, and they decided against the shave rather quickly. After everything dried and the dust settled down, he brushed out rather nicely.

Seriously, where did you GET these people?

At least they seem to like to take walks and even though their dumb dog keeps stealing my cat food, they do keep the bowl full for me, the way I like it. And Sun is pretty much oblivious to the fact that she is crazy... he follows her everywhere like he simply worships the ground she walks on. He even likes the rest of her family, though I can't imagine why.

I really want to know how long you are going to be in Ireland. Is it really that great? Can't you come back early?

Smokie Says...

We are all about honesty here at the Laundromat, and in that spirit of things, I'm going to let the least content inhabitant of our latest house sitting assignment write this post as she wanted to send a letter to her family.

My friends, I'd like to introduce you to Smokie, an aged cat of some kind of royal, long haired descent. She is blue eyed and grey furred and oh so elegant. Sun is her extra large sized golden retriever dog-brother.

Dear Ray and Jayne

What in the name of God's green acres were you thinking when you asked these... people to live here on Kingston Row?

My goodness you won't believe what I have to put up with.

First of all, I thought Sun would be an ally in all of this, but I have to say his behaviour is simply embarrassing. He follows that, that... hussy... all over the house. She stands up, he's right there beside her. She's given him a few bits of kibble for good behaviour and now he obeys her every command. I cannot believe he'd sell his soul for a few bits of dry kibble but it appears he has absolutely no ethics. She brushes him twice a day and you'd think he was getting a Swedish massage from the way carries on about it. I know it's because she's hoping to keep the dog hair out of her dinner, but will he listen to me when I tell him the truth? Oh no... Smokie you're so suspicious, he says.

And I could put up with Sun being ridiculous but you won't believe what they've done. They took their own stupid dog along. Jed, I believe his name is. Every time I happen to come downstairs (thankfully they at least have the sense to tell the dogs to stay on the main floor) I have to put up with his unwanted advances. I'm considering pressing charges.

For now, I found a kleenex that I simply shredded all over the carpet, just to let them all know what I could do to them if I were so inclined and had murderous tendencies.

And that new dog is as bad as Sun with that, that woman. It appears to me that the two of them are vying for her attention. She talks to one of them, and the other feels that he must wander over to make sure she's not doing anything untoward with the other suitor. And then they both end up slobbering and wagging their tails. Sun has already knocked all the blooms off the begonias with his tail.

I told you you should have had it docked when he was a puppy.

Disgusting.

Oh, and this is something a lady does not usually discuss but I must say, my personal low point was when Sun started humping Jed. Appalling behaviour, and especially from an old dog like Sun. He should know better. That woman had the good sense to put a stop to it but the image is burned into my memory and I'm not sure how long it will take me to recover.

I may need therapy upon your return.

There's more, and believe me, it gets worse, but I'm simply too wrung out to speak more about it this evening. Since I have nowhere else to go I will continue living here; at least that woman seems to remember to keep my food and water dishes filled, but believe me, if you don't get back soon, you will pay.

The Prodigal

Because of our semi nomadic lifestyle these days, my amazing sister is tending to Joey`s geckos at her house. He has two adults and three of his most interesting and intricately patterned babies at this point; the rest he sold to rustle up some cash.

Two or three weeks ago, the loveliest of his three babies escaped during feeding time. It`s only about 6 or 7 centimetres long and it weighs just a few grams. It has sticky feet and can climb just about anything. Plus, while they are not exactly chameleon-like, they do tend to blend into their surroundings. Invisibility and evasion are how they survive in the wild.

So when you lose a baby, as we did once, you just need to say goodbye and move on. Finding them is generally out of the question.

This past weekend Yvonne was getting out some gear for the Folk Fest, and lo and behold, there was the baby, sitting on a shelf, alive and apparently no worse for all his adventures. She called Joey and while we didn`t exactly kill and eat the fatted calf, we were all pretty happy to see the little guy.

He`s had a couple crickets and a very nice misting and he`s doing just fine.

The prodigal returns.

MIA

It`s been a very busy couple of days!

We`ve been living at the neighbours, attending Folk Fest, working on our house, getting ready to move to our next housesitting assignment, walking the dogs, enjoying our perfect prairie summer weather...

In the meantime, I had heard about Dave Carroll`s little airline mishap when United broke his Taylor guitar and refused to take any responsibility for it, but I hadn`t seen the video yet. I watched it this morning and I must say I thought it was brilliant. Apparently United plans to use it in their employee training as a `what NOT to do`example.

Excitement all around...

Joey and Micah both auditioned to play at The Forks, banjo and violin, respectively. They both passed the auditions and will now be able to busk together!

Very cool.

And today Jed IGNORED two dogs on our bike ride. Simply ran right by. That is huge, in dog-land.

And we discovered the neighbours have a ShamWOW so Micah and their daughter are conducting new ShamWOW experiments this afternoon. I think he is enjoying having a little sister.

Plus I am paying her $5 per day to speak French to Joey and Micah. Ever so much cheaper than a tutor. However, Micah in his stubborness will not speak French back, generally, because I am not paying HIM, as well.

Well, I personally cannot handle too much more excitement. Hopefully no other thrills come my way today.

Beyond the cup of sugar...

So, most of us have neighbours. Most exchange favours from time to time. Sugar, the lawnmower, snow shovelling...

Right now we are living with our neighbours, while our house is under construction. And when they leave for vacation in a week, we`ll house sit until they come back.

Plus, they like to cook.

I feel lucky.

Joy

The other morning while Jed and I were biking, he ran right through a whole flock of seagulls. There were 50 of them, at least. They started to fly and circle around and as he ran through them, it seemed like he was experiencing pure, sweet, joy.

He was born to run, and he is happiest when he's running.

Made me wonder what kind of things give me that same unadulterated joy. What was I born to do? And why do I seem to have so much more trouble than a dog to figure it out?

Just like TV or Radio...

I have a really really good post coming up.

You'll just have to wait for a few commercials and one other really crappy post to find out what it is.

Canada...

I love you.

You're not the flashiest guy at the bar, but you're solid. You're not going to cheat or chase other girls, you're going to stick with the one who brung you.

Most people think that you're kinda hayseed... hunter, fisher, farmer, miner... but I know that you've got a touch of class. You manage fusion cooking like no other because you're used to dealing with lots of different people with lots of different backgrounds. You know that some of the greatest meals are created by adding maple syrup to bratwurst, a salad that includes feta, or duck.

There's a lot of room to grow with you, Canada. You've got land to spare and you're generally willing to share. You tend to apologize when someone steps on your toes but you'll be the first to pound somebody if they're heading for your puck.

You respect the queen but you don't think about her much, and you make damn sure that everybody knows you're not American.

Not that you don't like Americans or think that Barack, Michelle and the girls are really cute, but you want people to know that you're different. Your own person, unique.

And you sure are partial to cross border shopping.

Anyway, Canada, it's your birthday once again. And I know it's kind of ironic because you were here long before those of us who decided to celebrate your birthday were here, but I have to say that I'm really glad that we have a day to say you're a great guy to hang with and I'm proud, really proud, to be a part of your life.

Ms. Doolittle

I never really thought of myself as much of an animal lover.

I didn't mind animals, but I didn't really think I wanted one more thing to take care of. I felt that two boys, a husband, friends, extended family, a house, a car... all those relationships and things need tending, right?

So why would we add to the mix by having animals?

And then Joey's passion for reptiles reached a fever point and so four years ago we welcomed Ziggy the bearded dragon into our midst. Although Joey managed to spend hours on his care in the early days, we quickly realized that Ziggy required about as much care as a cactus. As a desert creature, his water needs are very low and he can survive for months on end in a peculiar sort of dormancy. His physiological make up is such that he is used to times of plenty and times of want and his body has the mechanisms to deal with both.

Then Joey added crested geckos. He bought a female who had laid some non viable eggs from a woman on Kijiji. He decided he wanted to try breeding and it turns out he has a fair hand at multiplying geckos. This was in the days when he delivered flyers with Rob to make his living and that boy shuffled a lot of paper to buy his dream male. I no longer have any idea how many crested geckos have been born in our home. I do know that one beautiful baby escaped and was never seen again. He also bought a trio online and within a week or two all had died from some sort of respiratory infection. The first few losses were very hard to bear but Joey has become somewhat more philosophical when faced with these sorts of challenges. And the sellers sent him another trio, which helped to ease the pain.

And then we got Jed. It just seemed like it was the right time to add a dog to the mix. Mostly because we had read "Where the Red Fern Grows" on a trip to Florida and when we came back, lo and behold, the shelter was giving away coonhound puppies. We knew that coonhounds were very loyal to their pack, and became very lazy if they were raised as family dogs. We did not know that they were slightly neurotic.

However, Jed has been a really good dog and except for his recent nipping problem, which is now completely over, he's added a lot of laughter and been a great diversion when life is hard. And because I always feel smarter than Jed, my self esteem has taken a real turn for the better. Our little morning bike rides are great for my health and he has learned to ignore crows, ducks, rabbits (mostly), and other people.

We are still working on ignoring dogs. If anyone has any advice on HOW to get your dog to ignore other dogs when you are trying to run with them, fire away. Today it was a Great Dane and understandably it is really hard to ignore a Great Dane, but I just want to pedal past and Jed had to do the "I may be small but I am tough" thing.

And then there are the birdies. Micah wanted to try out his own breeding program so we gave birds a go. I never thought I would hand feed a whole clutch of baby birds, but it's pretty much how I spent my summer holidays last year. In a haze of Tylenol 3, shoving bird pablum through a syringe into the hungry mouths of four baby chicks.

So it's kind of strange. In four short years we went from no animals to a whole array. All we need are some fish to round out the family, and believe me, I am tempted by those salt water tanks.

However, I am resisting. A girl can only take care of so much.

Our life as we know it

Sometimes you have to take stock.

This is the weekend of Rob's and my 18th anniversary. Eighteen years. Since I met him when I was 21 I am now approaching that teetering point where I will soon have known him and had him in my life for more years than I haven't.

We've had an eventful 18 years, when I think about it... I still think that Rob's cancer in our first year of marriage changed us dramatically. And I am so thankful for the lessons we learned. It seems like a very dim memory now, though some things stand out.

We were living in a housing project which had started out with great vision as a place to live cooperatively but by the time we got there they had kind of lost their way and it seemed like it was simply a cheap place to live. We both served on two different committees. When Rob found out his diagnosis, one of the first things he thought was "I can quit my committee!"

You know it's probably something you shouldn't have signed up for when you feel like cancer has provided you with an out. I have a friend who had cancer a few years ago and she calls it 'the cancer card.'

"I'm sorry I can't blah blah blah because I was recently diagnosed with cancer."

Now it's true that you really can't do whatever you were asked because of your cancer, but there is a small grain of perverse pleasure one takes in seeing the person who previously wanted something from you, recoil and back off. It works better than a simple no. It is particularly effective, and generally only necessary for those people who are really pushy.

Another standout memory is the man who shared Rob's room. Rob and I were playing Trivial Pursuit with the curtains between the beds drawn. Every so often, he'd call out an answer.

"Mohammed Ali's real name?"

pause

"Cassius Clay!"

Well thank you Mr. Roommate. I was just about to say that.

This was a bit annoying so we started to show each other the answers to the very hardest questions. Not constantly, just enough to keep it believable but make us seem really really smart. He became very quiet.

After the game, he decided to tell us all about his painful kidney stones... They were killing him, he had never been in so much pain, he was going to need surgery, it was the worst thing that ever happened to him, he peed blood, etc.

I don't particularly care to hear all the gory details of an illness from someone I don't know, but we did listen politely.

"So, what are you in for?" he finally said to Rob, in the swaggering sort of manner you would expect from one prisoner to another.

"Cancer."

I will never forget the look of shock on that guy's face.

I remember thinking that everyone was walking around with a death sentence. All of us will die someday and none of us are exempt. There is something really freeing in remembering that all that we have, all that we are, will be dust someday.

I realized during those years that I didn't want to live with regret. I didn't want to hold out for the magic years of retirement... I wanted to enjoy life now. I realized that I wanted to cherish those things and memories and people that would have meaning after life and let the less important things fall away. I realized that the acquisition of things never really satisfies and that shopping isn't therapy, even if it feels that way now and then.

I realized that nothing is guaranteed or deserved. Not health, not money, not relationships, not happiness, not long life. Everything good is a gift. And even everything bad. Hard as that is to believe when you're experiencing something difficult.

Most of all, every person is a gift, even the ones that bug us. All that we have and experience can be cherished and if you don't learn from an experience, you're missing out.

Eighteen years.

Wow.

The aftermath

I confess I did get a little silly last night, what with Michael and all...

Crazy.

I suppose it really did make me long for 1982, when he was a phenomena, and really cute, and an incredible trend setter, rather than today... a face ruined by plastic surgery, a man ruined by fame and allegations of pedophilia.

I honestly don't know what happened. Sure he was weird, but I am also not inclined to believe the testimony of mother who lets her kids have sleepovers at an adult's house because he is famous.

I can just imagine. My kid has called and asked if he can go to Michael's. "Hey Mom! Michael invited me for a sleepover. Yeah. Just me. I dunno. I think he's 40 or something. Really? You don't want me to go? Why not? Oh. You think we should both be playing with people our own age. Yeah. I see what you mean."

Anyway. We are all going to be overexposed for the next few days. Maybe my mostly news-fast will be a good thing. And maybe news outlets will continue to cover things like the Iran uprising. And maybe parents will stop selling their talented children to the highest bidder at a very young age and condemn them to a life of fame before they even know if they want it themselves.

There are too many child stars that end up kinda like Michael, in one way or another. And we feed it by consuming what we're offered. Disney's got that wholesome image and we all thought it was safe to take our kids to the desperately boring but innocent Herbie the Love Bug. Who knew we were really just killing Lindsay Lohan?

Typical

"It's kinda like when Kurt Cobain died," said one male member of the household.

"Who is Kurt Cobain?" said another male member.

The third male member was listening to Billie Jean and working on his moonwalk.

Typical.

Gary

Michael Jackson was born in Gary, Indiana. My son once spent a night in Gary, Indiana and declared he would never do so again.

Coincidence?

I think not.

Upon

Upon hearing the news, Micah developed a sudden and severe case of hiccups.

What could that mean?

How

How I long for the innocence of 1982.

Shock

Michael Jackson?

Dead?

And I learned it from TMZ?!

Must be 2009.

Busy

We have been busy! (It's amazing what this man can accomplish using only one screwdriver.)


We are mostly still in the 'taking apart' stage upstairs in our part of the house. This used to be a bedroom. Eventually it will be our living room. Good thing it's a big old house.

Every day we move closer to the goal. Keep you eye on the prize, and all that.

In other news, the dog/biking thing is going well. , and Jed's behaviour is better already. He hasn't lunged at a worker-man lately and he's learned to eat with his lips, not his teeth.

Very gross, hand feeding kibbles to a big drooly dog.

I'm settling into our own time zone so sometimes I don't get started until 7 am or so. Although I've had a few close calls, neither dog has made me fall yet. Today Dixie managed to ignore a flying plastic bag, a person, and a dog barking behind a fence.

I decided to take Jed a slightly different way, closer to the river and through the trees.

I thought it would be fun.

Unbeknownst to me, the apparently dry banks along the river were actually just a very thin layer of dry mud, with very wet and gooey Manitoba gumbo underneath. Jed was able to race around and stay dry but my rear tire was so quickly caked in mud that it stopped turning. I had to get a stick and clean it out and there is still a lot of mud trapped in there. It made a swishing sound all the way home. I think I am going to need a high pressure sprayer to clean it all out.

A very muddy morning.

Scattered...

I keep thinking about the protesters in Iran. How incredibly courageous they are. I wish I could help them.

I need to start thinking about my next move, work-wise. I am torn between wanting something I can sink my teeth into for a few years, and finding something that is short term and relatively mindless so I can figure out just what it is I would like to sink my teeth into for a few years. Advice about these choices, anyone?

Did you hear about the girls that mobbed the Twilight guy and he tried to get away and ran into a taxi cab? Oh the perils of super-stardom.

I read an article the other day that compared the Jonas brothers to the Beatles. That is just sick and wrong. Kinda like comparing, oh I dunno, Mango punch made from crystals to picking and eating a mango right off the tree in Costa Rica. Or something like that. The Beatles didn't need a back up band to cover for their dismal instrumental abilities.

Has anyone seen the new Nicorette inhaler? Does it not look like someone is smoking a tampon? It's not a bad idea, really, and if it helps someone stop smoking, I'm all for it. But I think they might be sued by Tampax for copyright infringement.

Reality television makes me cranky. Last night I was watching in absolute silence and Micah said, "You must be sick, Mom, because usually you are saying stuff like, 'Oh yeah, right,' and 'Give me a break,' and dissing everyone on the show." I suppose that is true. Most television makes me cranky, though. I wish it didn't. I am at my most annoying when the television is on.

And that's about all she wrote, folks.

Two words.

Sick. Bleah.

Lucky me and Paying it forward

Look what came in the mail for me!


Darlene knit and felted this bag for me as part of a little Pay It Forward challenge.

The concept is simple, and it's kind of like a chain letter that you ask for. The mission, if you choose to accept it, is this:

Leave a comment on my blog and say that you want to participate. If you do, I will need to send you something that I have made with my very own hands within the next six months. Once you receive something from me, you're supposed to make something and send it on to someone else.

The first three people who comment and say they want to participate will get my hand made item.

Now, I know what those of you who know me are thinking. "Ha Ha. Michele has never made a thing in her life. I remember when she used to pay people to finish her home ec assignments." (It's the only thing I ever cheated on in school.)

But I needed a new challenge and so I pledge I will make something that is both beautiful and useful. And I will not pay my talented sister Yvonne to finish it either, tempting as that may be.

In the meantime, I am loving my little bag and it's such a treat to know that an old and dear friend who lives a long way from me, made it with her own two knitting needles. So please! comment away, especially if you live far away or I don't know you very well. You'll have to send me your address, and I'll send you my gift!

Diagnosis: Typical Insecure Male

So, took Jed to the vet this afternoon and she said that if she had to characterize him, she'd say that he is a 'typical insecure male.' Not to say that all males are insecure, but that he is like one of those who is insecure.

He needs lots of encouragement. He needs more simple, basic commands and instruction so that he can feel successful. He needs lots of exercise so the biking is definitely a good idea. He needs time out of his comfort zone and a lot of praise when he does well.

And, the big one.

We need to de-activate his bite instinct by hand feeding him.

Everything. And yes, I said hand feeding.

What you're supposed to do is hold the dog's food in your fist, and if he mouths or tries to get it at all, you yell "Ow" and don't give it to him. He has to sit quietly and look away... breaking eye contact is a form of submission. As soon as he looks down, he can have his food.

This teaches him that all his food comes from his master, and that if he uses his mouth or his teeth, he can't have what he wants. The vet did this with him twice and he figured it out immediately. (He is smart, she said.)

So, wish us luck!

Jon and Kate

This might not be a popular post, but I can't shake the feeling.

With both the kids sick, we've had some daytime television on, and because we are living in close quarters, I caught some of Jon and Kate Plus Eight for the first time in my life.

And honestly?

Seeing all those toddlers, all together and exactly the same age makes me think of a litter. Reminds me of rats, or pigeons, or feral kittens.

Gives me the shivers.

(Please note this is in no way how I feel about multiple birth children or large families. J/K/8 seem to be in a whole other plane.)

Sorely Tested

Although I haven't done the math, I am pretty sure that we travelled between 30 and 40 000 kilometers in the past five months. Except for one day when Joey had obviously eaten something that kept him close to the toilet, we weren't sick at all. Ever. Not a cold, no flu, no other food borne illnesses.

Just perfect health.

And here we are, barely one week home, and Joey and Micah have both been sick. Joey first, convinced it's swine flu because we were at Heathrow Airport, and then Micah, who must have caught it from Joey.

Last night, I woke up at around 2:30 to hear Micah coughing and because I know that nothing feels so lonely as being up in the middle of the night, sick, with no one to ask how you are doing, I went to him and checked on him and brought him fresh water and did all those things you want someone to do when you are sick in the middle of the night.

So this morning, instead of my usual 5 am, I didn't wake until almost 6. And I felt, well, like I had been up for a while in the middle of the night with someone who is sick.

I really didn't want to take the dogs for a bike ride.

But the problem with dogs as exercise buddies is that you can't call them and say, "Oh I had a really bad night and I didn't sleep and blah blah blah..." And they don't say, "Oh that's too bad... I'll miss you. On the other hand, maybe I won't bother with the gym today either. Thanks for the day off." They're more like, "What? Someone puked? Where? Can I eat it?"

No sympathy for the sick, dogs.

They also adjust to a new routine, especially when it involves something they like, very quickly. So I knew that they'd be in their kennel this morning waiting for their bike ride. I also have this desperate hope that if I exercise and get outside I won't catch what Joey and Micah have.

So I got up, got dressed, looked outside, was so very thankful it wasn't raining because that would have made everything even harder, and pedalled over to get them.

I feel almost human now.

Jed behaving badly

Jed has been having a hard time of it lately. First, we left him for several months. (Albeit with a loving Aunt and Uncle and a very beloved dog cousin. However, he did miss us, his primary pack.)

Then we started renovations and the way Jed sees it is a bunch of people came over and started tearing his house apart. So Jed took it upon himself to protect our territory and has started nipping at worker-men. Not only is this potentially dangerous if it continues to escalate, but it is also embarrassing. We raised him (we thought) to be submissive and gentle. From whence comes this snarly snappy side?

His vet told me once (and he has a major crush on his vet) that a tired dog is a good dog, and so I thought one of things I could do to help Jed behave was to tire Jed out.

Since returning from Europe, I have woken at the ungodly hour of 5 am, and I thought that maybe I could use that time productively rather than toss and turn and try to sleep. So now I wait until about 5:30, don my biking gear, (Yoga pants and a t-shirt, helmet. My gloves are packed away... somewhere) and pedal over to our house to take Jed for a bike ride.

First I pedal by a park that runs along the Assiniboine river. This park gets pretty crazy at night. Rob tried to go for a peaceful walk one evening and stumbled across a drug deal or two. He was also propositioned by someone who apparently found him very attractive. However, all is quiet in the morning and the park is beautiful and full of birds.



After I cross one busy street, I'm at The Forks, on a path that will lead me over the Red River and into St. Boniface, my own little neighbourhood.


I pass by the construction site for the Canadian Human Rights Museum that will open in 2011. I am pretty excited about the Human Rights Museum although it doesn't look like much at this point.


First glimpse of St. Boniface and the Cathedrale. The river banks are really muddy because of the recent flooding but they'll be all greened over in a few weeks.


Then I pick up Jed and we start out on a path along the Red River. Jed runs off leash and comes when I call because he knows I have a secret weapon with me: one weiner.


We pass a beautiful little memorial to Elzear Goulet, who died of drowning at this point in the river when he was trying to escape a mob of Canadian government sympathizers. This was before Manitoba had joined Confederation and many in the MB government were opposed to union with Canada unless certain rights could be guarenteed. (That is the VERY short story, but it's something like that.)

I pedal, Jed runs by Fort Gibralter, an historic fur trading post built by the Northwest Company. Now it's a focal point for the Festival du Voyageur. In the summer, you can visit it to see how the voyageurs and their families lived.


On the other side of the path is the Red River. We go on like this for a kilometer or so.


This is one of my favourite little spots. It's where the Seine River meets the Red, and it's the point where Marie Gaboury first lived with her husband, Jean-Baptiste Lagmodiere. It was 1806 or so and she was the first woman of European descent to live this far west. By all accounts she was quite the adventurer. She arrived here to discover that her husband already had an Aboriginal wife and something like 10 kids. She had 7 of her own with him, however, and they travelled all over the west together. It must have been a healthy lifestyle because she lived into her 90s.


We turn to the right and the path follows the Seine, which is more of a creek than a river. We travel under the train bridge and I am reminded, once again, to "Fuck Racism." A good message, I suppose, if a little crudely rendered.


We pedal home along the street. Then I drop off Jed at the house and do it all over again with Dixie.

Same route, different dog.

The dogs have very different personalities and running styles. Jed takes his running Very Seriously. Running is His Important Job. Sniffing is Also Important. He Runs and He Sniffs. Importantly.

Dixie is still learning to run beside the bike. She looks! she sees! she runs! she scampers! She is not so fast or as focused as Jed. She is a little afraid of the bike. I think she wonders why I am riding a monster.


After I leave the dogs, I pedal over the bridge and back to our apartment.

I suspect that Jed behaving badly is actually quite good for me.

Stuporware

Since trips to London and walks in the French countryside are no longer options for me, I'm accepting just about any invitation that comes my way.

Even invitations to Tupperware parties.

My sweet niece, Alisha was hosting a Tupperware party last night and I thought I should attend. She has a new house that I wanted to see, and she promised that there would be good snacks. I hadn't been to a Tupperware party since I accidentally hosted one myself, about 15 years ago. Most notable about that party was the dog that drank the punch and the chain smoking Tupperware lady who told us all about her 11 year old son who was facing criminal charges for some sort of violent behaviour. All her Tupperware smelled like smoke and she had to take frequent breaks to go outside for a puff.

You know how they pass around the Tupperware so everyone can take a look? She threw it. And she'd say things like, "I don't know what the hell they use this for, but it's good." Really. Linda was there and you can ask her if you don't believe me.

Back to last night's party. I took my camera because the male members of the household had been asking questions about home parties before I left, and I realized that they are a bit of a secret rite of passage for women. Most men never even get a whiff of these holy and sacred events, except from exile in other parts of the house. And I realized that although I have been to many parties, I have never seen even ONE photograph of a home party.

It's time to throw off the mystery and open up this secret society. I hope the Illuminati don't come for me.

Here is Alisha, in the centre, with two of her friends. They are holding the amazing Tupperware cake, which bakes in only 12 minutes in your microwave and never! sticks!

Micah came along but only stayed for a few snacks before he joined Frank, Alisha's husband, in the basement.


Here is Frank at the end of the evening, probably thinking, "Whew. Glad they finally let me out. I should really get another key made."


Here is the amazing Tupperware cake, iced and ready to eat. It wasn't bad but I must say Alisha's other snacks were better. Most notably the skor/caramel/cream cheese fruit dip. A boon to premenstrual women everywhere.


Isn't that a nice spread? A good combination of salty and sweet. I always like fresh fruit on the table. Well done!


Here is Linda. I know she is thinking, "I shouldn't be looking at Michele because if anything happens, I will get the giggles and not be able to stop and I will try to explain myself and I will make everything even worse and nobody else will understand the joke and so we will make spectacles of ourselves." Here she dared to look at me out of the corner of her eye because the red eye reduction flash was going and so she knew I was taking her picture. She wouldn't look at me any more than that, however.


Here is Linda contemplating a dust and drug free life, if only she starts Tupperliving. (A real word!)


Here is me, thinking, "Gee, I flew from Barcelona to Paris with our whole family for the cost of a couple of Vent 'N Serves."

(It's true that deregulation has made flying very cheap in Europe.)

Anyway, Tupperware is very nice, and I can understand why those more organized or more idealistic than I would want to use it. But I know that even if I try to live by the Tupperware mantra and follow Brooke Sheilds' advice, I will still end up with missing lids, mis-shapen items that were put on the lower rack of the dishwasher (usually by my loving family and I have to say I'm grateful that they all do the dishes) and unidentifiable life forms in the back of my fridge.

It's just that way for me.

I have to say it was a nice evening even with all my failings. I did see Alisha's house, visited with Chantal who lived with us for many years, whom I haven't seen for a very long time, and also my niece Carolyn, who was baby-less for a few hours.

I told my family that I wouldn't come home with even one piece of merchandise, however, and I stuck to my guns, even though I was mightily tempted by the Wonderlier three bowl set.

Only $39.50.

Un

Not feeling very creative today, or very write-y. Except to say that there is great pleasure into running into people you know and like when you're in your home city.

I haven't had to duck into any doorways, so haven't felt like I needed to avoid anyone at this point.

Anyway, as far as food for thought, a friend of mine sent me this article from the New York Times... I haven't hit menopause yet, not even early symptoms. Can't say this makes me too keen on it, but I thought it was really interesting to read it from a male point of view.

Plus he likes Cheetos. Must be a good guy.


My brief life as a woman.

Perpetual Spring

When we left on our grand adventure just over 5 months ago, I was thrilled at my first sighting of pansies. Things got a little more varied by the time we reached Austin, and every time I saw anything green, I'd ask Joey to take a photo. He'd almost always be willing to take a shot.


By the time I saw blooming tulips and daffodils in San Franciso last February, I felt like I was blessed by an early spring.


Somewhere in Spain, when I saw the chestnut trees in bloom, I realized that we were basically following spring. It's a lovely thing to do, and I highly recommend it.

I feel like we are still following Spring, because we were out for a walk this evening and I smelled lilacs in bloom. Spring has come late to Manitoba this year... waiting for us maybe. The last time I smelled lilacs was about 6 weeks ago, in Paris.

They smell just as good on a misty evening in Winnipeg.

News

I've read the newspaper all my life. I was an early and voracious reader and I remember once when someone was visiting us (can't remember who) I was kind of offended, at six, because he didn't believe I was actually reading the newspaper. Had to prove it by reading a few lines aloud.

Anyway, all my life I've loved the news, read the news, figured out how to read the paper without getting my hands inky, etc.

And then there's the crossword.

But we've been away from the news for five months now. I've checked online and also on television, but since two of the last three months have been spent in countries where I can only pick up about 30 percent of what is going on, my news has been sketchy.

I haven't missed it. In the beginning I did, but I'm finding that I really don't miss and don't need most of the news that I get.

As Rob said, The news is a depressing litany of the worst horrors on earth.

And often it is... I think that I should be informed, somehow, but how much of the news do I really need to hear?

I think I need to hear about natural disasters and war and human rights issues, especially if I can do something about it like send money or write a letter... but do I need to hear about child abductions that happen in other provinces? Do I need to know about every drug related knifing? Do I need to read the sordid details of someone's spousal abuse?

I don't know.

Thoughts, anyone?

Where are we?

Home, I suppose. The last few days are a bit of a blur, and I am still a little fuzzy with jet lag. I hate to say it but the boys seem most unaffected... is it an age thing?

Last night I crawled to bed just before 8:30... it was the very latest I could manage to stay awake. And then woke up at 2 am ready to face the day. Nobody else was, however, so I stayed in bed and tried to sleep.

Not that I'm complaining. We have so many good memories, the world is an amazing place, we met some incredible people, both relatives and new friends, and I think we'll all dream just a little bigger than we did before.

We have no regrets.

Joey and Micah in Delft. Please, if you ever go to Holland, spend a day in Delft.

On our last day in London, I asked the information guy where we might find a 'funkier' version of London. I mean, London gave birth to the punk movement, did it not? At least I always thought it did but I am no rock historian. Anyway, the Very Proper British Information Gentleman said, "You won't find that in London."

But a worker guy in overalls and a shiny vest overheard my question and told us to get on the tube to Camden Town. We had a great day. It's kinda like the Forks and Osbourne Village and the outskirts of Amsterdam's red light district all in one.

We liked it.



We walked from the Camden locks to Little Venice... a few miles along a beautiful canal that cuts right through the London Zoo. It was a hot and sunny day... unusual for London. Two days at 26 degrees Celcius and they were all talking about the 'heat wave.'


Joey's shoes had served him faithfully and well, but just like Moses, they couldn't come back to the Promised Land. By the time he found new ones that suited him in London, the old ones were completely broken down. We thought the two yellow eyelets added a touch of distinction.


Rob was pretty happy to eat a Tim Horton's sub when we arrived in Toronto.

I had to work at removing my grumpy face... where is a good French bakery when you need one?

Still, home is home and now that we're back in Winnipeg, I do know where to find a good French bakery. Our French host in Bretagne absolutely did not believe me when I told him that some bakers had left Alsace, France to come to Winnipeg, but I tried to convince him that some people DO leave France for other places.

He remained unconvinced.

Home sweet home

Well, home sweet Fort Gary Place, for now.

We have a phone here but I haven't checked the number yet.

We appear to have free hard-wired internet access. Very nice touch.

We had a very good and uneventful flight... I wasn't scared but the Air France flight certainly made me realize that things can go wrong from time to time.

We were walking down the gangway in the crowd of travellers and Joey said, "I sure feel glad we're not travelling on Air France."

And I was like, "Joey! Shh. Some people might be really freaked and you're not helping."

But then after we landed Linda reminded me of the time we were on a really crowded elevator and I said, "Gee, this would be a really bad time for the elevator to get stuck."

So I suppose he comes by it all honestly.

We had such a very warm and happy welcome at the airport... a very nice representation of all those who are living at 154 Dumoulin came out. SOOO nice to see your family after such a long time. I feel so blessed to have a family that is so great to come home to.

Sigh. Being in our own city sure feels good... no maps to consult to figure out how to get to our destination, etc. I will hope to publish a nice little wrap up when I am less jet lagged.

Jolly Ole England

We are here and having a good time... getting ready to go home. At a lovely organic bakery at the moment with wifi but there is none at our hotel unless we order the 'package' which includes adult movies.

Why do they call them adult?

Anyway, it bugs me in an irked, annoyed sort of manner and so I don't think we'll have access much until we are home.

In the meantime, the Natural History Museum is living up to expectation.

Security Clearance

Just when you think that you've worked out all the bugs for clearing security, somebody changes the rules.

Here at Rotterdam Airport they told us that we couldn't take our stainless steel water bottle on the flight, even though it was empty. This water bottle has accompanied us since Canada, so I wonder why it was okay in every other airport we've been to, but not here.

In Spain, they conducted tests on Rob's shaving cream. This didn't happen anywhere else.

In Dublin, they made a great show of checking our umbrellas. They opened them, felt around, closed them again. Tried to cram them back into our suitcases.

In another airport (can't remember which one), they wanted to check the clay Micah uses for claymation.

Before we left for Europe, security at the Winnipeg Airport seemed really sticky. She opened everything I had in just about every bag. I also got patted down. That was the first and only time I've ever gotten the pat down.

I can't remember where they asked me to remove my shoes, but that happened once, as well.

The curious thing about it was that it none of the things that anyone checked were ever checked again, anywhere. There is absolutely no uniform system in place anywhere, and the items that come into question are always different. Makes you wonder...

Leaving

I am avoiding right now.

Avoiding packing. Avoiding getting dressed. Avoiding leaving.

I could happily spend three months here and still feel like I haven't done everything I'd like to do and visited with as many relatives as I would like to see.

Next time, I tell myself. And because Rob is hooked, as well, I am sure we will be back. As soon as we can.

I love the markets, the little houses, the biking (although it is terrifying to bike through The Hague at rush hour... you feel like you should have gotten a license when you're at a bike stop light and there are 30 or 40 people clustered around, vying for position).

I like the food, the flowers (20 roses for $3.50, 50 tulips for $4.00, 50 gerberas for $5.00), the cheese.

We've had amazing weather here... a totally unexpected Dutch treat. I like how the other day I was able to order the train tickets for the family in Dutch.

So, I keep telling myself that I am not packing to LEAVE the Netherlands, I'm packing to GO to London.

But it's not really working.

She

She is dressed in a summer weight wool suit with matching pumps. It's 5 pm and you assume she's on her way home from work. She's got a baby in the front seat, a toddler behind. She's got two bags full of groceries hanging on the handle bars and she's talking on her cell phone.

She pedals by you and with a casual flick of her hand, she gestures left at the intersection. She's on a bike that looks like it belonged to your grandmother and for the first time in your life, you genuinely wonder,

How does she do it?

More Lovin'

We fell in love with Delft. What a beautiful little city. And it was market day, which is always a good time.

It is going to be hard to leave this beautiful country. I usually have the 'it's time move on' feeling when we get close to leaving but I suppose our roots are pretty deep here.

Must dash: Our computer time is limited at the library and for some reason it has stopped working at home. However, Micah tells me you can still get on outside the library after hours, so we might see about that.

We climbed the Niuew Church tower. The New Church was built in 1500 or so but has never shed its moniker. It was very small and steep and windy and kind of creepy. And very high. I found it a more difficult climb that the Eiffel Tower, actually, but the view from the top was lovely.

One Week

We have one week to go here in Europe. I can't believe our grand adventure is coming to an end. Of course, we can always hope for more grand adventures right in our own home town...

1. We have decided to rent an apartment at Fort Garry Place for the month of June. We have family connections that make it cheap-ish and easy and it is furnished. Plus, we will be right next door to the Hotel Fort Gary Piano Bar... anyone care to join us for drinks on the terrace?

2. Give us a few days to get over our jet lag, though.

3. I can't wait to see all our peeps again, including our animal friends. I've missed everyone with skin, feathers, fur and scales. Funny how one gets attached.

4. Now that the trip is coming to an end, I dare say it: We have been incredibly healthy on this trip. One day of stomach trouble for one of us, a slight cold for another. That's about it.

5. We could easily stay here in Den Haag for another two weeks... there are so many places to go on day trips: Amsterdam, Delft, Rotterdam, Gouda, more. I'm not sure how many places we'll actually be able to get to at this point.

6. It will be so nice for the boys to have their instruments again.

7. I think our Hyundai Elantra will seem enormous after all the small European cars.

8. I will miss the Dutch and French (especially) grocery stores. They are full of amazing food. In France especially, it's more like stopping by a huge specialty shop.

9. One Dutch value appears to be having a good bed. We haven't slept on a second-rate mattress here. My back is grateful.

10. If you bike during rush hour, you may find yourself at a special bike stop light in a huge line up of bikes... I will really miss biking here and the attitude towards biking.

11. The Dutch are also very no-fuss. There is scarcely a manicure and pedicure salon to be found here. The Dutch friend we met with yesterday said that she had never seen a nail place until she came to Canada. I like the natural approach.

12. They seem to import some of the dumbest American television shows to The Netherlands.

13. I'm a little puzzled by all the Susan Boyle craziness. Wow! An ugly person can sing! Not that I think that she's even that ugly, though it seems like it's the focus of most of the articles about her.

Bits and Pieces

Old buildings, bikes and water? You must be in Amsterdam.

Krokets met Broodjes. A delicious Amsterdam treat.


Meeting my cousin's sweet baby for the first time... meeting her husband for the first time, as well. Also a Rob (or Rop, as they say here).

SO nice to spend time with family relations that are so very likeable.


The little girl to the right is no relation.


More relative moments... this one, in Bredevoort. A most amazing restaurant built in 1702. Good food, too. It's where I celebrated Mother's day. Raised my glass to you, Mom!


You know you're in Holland when the second cousins climb the old windmill together. I think they had to hop a fence, but good mothers sometimes ignore those hunches when a good photo has been snapped.


Joey with a famous Visser from Moddargat. Family resemblance?


Rob's Oom Wiebe and Tante Griet... You know you're in Holland when your 83 year old uncle pedals through the city to show you how to get somewhere. Oom Wiebe pedalled 24 kilometers per day for 25 years. He's retired now, but the bike is still his main form of transportation.

Another great cousin, we spent the day at the Open Lucht Museum together. There is certainly something bittersweet about meeting so many relatives. We have a great family on both sides of the Atlantic... easy going, generous, interesting, fun. I wish I knew them better.


And not a relation, but an old family friend who met us in Den Haag for coffee. Or rather, a young-ish family friend. Definitely a Dutch treat.

Now that's the kind of museum I like...

A few weeks ago we went to the OpenLucht (open air) museum with my cousin. We toured many of the historical homes and buildings and one of the cool things about it is that the historical re-enactors actually do something, and are able to kind of set their own agenda for the day.

We were looking around the kitchen and I smelt fresh coffee on the stove, bubbling up from an ancient perk.

"Mmm. Smells good," I said to no one in particular.

"Well, sit down and have a cup!"

So we all sat down around the old kitchen table, in the farmhouse/museum and had coffee with the museum guy.

A lovely moment, I must say.