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Showing posts from January, 2009

Specifically chosen random facts.

Since the invention of email we have all received dozens of those personal surveys that want to know what you had for breakfast and how many times a week you change your underwear. Occasionally I fill them out. I do this mostly so I can exercise my sarcastic nature but sometimes purely to avoid doing other meaningful tasks that are nagging at me.

Currently there is a similar type thing circulating on Facebook. Except you don't get prompts. You just post a note with 25 random facts about yourself. Being the exhibitionist that I am, I'm thinking I might participate in this. I think I'll tell them:

1. I chew gum every day. My teeth are sensitive to sounds (yes, sounds) and chewing gum seems to help this. In almost addictive fashion, I panic if I am out of gum. This rarely happens cuz I keep a pack in my purse, in my car, in my work bag, in my sock drawer, in my cubby at work, in my coat pocket. I never swallow. I am so adept at chewing gum I can put a piece in my mouth and ea…

Love ain't always pretty...

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"No, sir. We couldn't do that, we have a reputation at stake here."

That was the response my husband got when he phoned in an order of flowers to be delivered to me at work. He initially asked for a half dozen roses. Then something contrasting.

"Not only contrasting, but something that really doesn't match," he said.

"Well, we have orange carnations. But that would be ugly."

"What else do you have?"

"Um. We have some blue daisies. We also have some lavender status."

"Good. Put them all together and make a bouquet."

That's when she became worried about their reputation, knowing she had to deliver this to a business location and chances are others would see them.

Albert's reply? "Hey, after 27 years things ain't always pretty. But put it all together and you'll find it's beautiful..... and don't forget to add a pink ribbon."

And he was right.

Of course when they arrived at work I had no idea the …

I luv yoe more.

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Twenty seven years ago today it was snowing like crazy. I remember this because it was our wedding day - the day when we vowed to love each other till death while we slipped bands of gold on our fingers. Wearing a ring doesn't make one any more married than not wearing one. However it is our accepted cultural symbol of matrimonial commitment.

On our 7th anniversary I got a second band made to fit the other side of the engagement ring.

After I had been wearing my wedding rings for 19 years they began to wear down a bit. I decided to have them soldered together to prevent the wear.

After being soldered, I could no longer wear them for more than a couple of hours or my finger got all raw and sore.

"I'm allergic to the metal they solder with, " was my reasoning.

But the fact is, they solder with gold. The self-same gold the rings are made of. The real reason for the raw finger was that the three bands together were quite wide and they fit significantly tighter than they did 4…

Porpoise floors and Pepper walls.

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I am loving the new little dining room space that the addition on our house has provided. However it has a plywood floor. It's not that I can't afford flooring if I wanted it, but I just can't decide. The lino in the kitchen is full of potholes and marks and really needs to be changed. I'd love to put tile through the entire area, but....

I have a vision for the kitchen. This will include moving the cupboards around and relocating the bathroom door so its not right off the kitchen. Ok, I don't plan to move the cupboards, they will be replaced. Eventually. I know and accept that it's in the 10-year plan, but I just can't bring myself to replace the flooring then have to redo it in in just a few years.

I don't know the science of genes, but somehow my sister Connie and I, although coming from the same gene pool, are nothing alike when it comes to renos and decor. She'd just as soon change the flooring and paint the walls than wash them. I however, will …

Behold what manner of ugliness lies beneath my bra.

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I bought a new bra for 120 bucks. This was actually a little less than I was expecting to pay. I should have splurged long before now. At the very least I should have taken my old one off to wash it and clean the scum that builds up underneath in the creases and crevices. I had occasionally lifted the edge and sprayed some water in there, but that really did very little to clean things. But alas, I must confess my bra had been on day and night for eight years. Yup, eight years.

It's hard to believe I've had my Little Black Jet that long. Truly I still think of it as my new car, even though I've never owned a vehicle this long. Even Barney the ol' purple dinosaur truck was only in our possession for 7 years.

I'm not sure why I happily spend $120 on a bra for my car, which I anticipate will be with me for no more than 15 years max, yet I begrudge the D sisters anything over $19.99. These sisters whom I am counting on remaining with me the rest of my life.

I know the sis…

Grannyhood is nearly upon me.

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There are less than 6 weeks until Baby X is due to arrive. I spent the last two Saturdays attending prenatal classes with Jade and Ken. People have been giving birth for thousands of years. You'd think the process would have remained the same, but they've totally changed things.

When I was the pregnant mother, we called prenatal classes "breathing classes" cuz that was the main focus of the sessions - how to breath correctly and survive the process. This time, in eight hours of classes we spent about 7 minutes talking about breathing. Now they say just breath in through your nose and out through your mouth in whatever way feels natural or right at the time. Well, with me coaching, Jade will be deep-cleansing-breath-puh-puh-puuuuuhing because that's what will feel natural to me - even after all these years.

We toured the hospital. Yes, things have changed. The birthing rooms are huge, have personal use phones, tvs, birthing balls, private showers and jetted bathtub…

1 minute 52 seconds of American National Anthem to wow you.

I don't have a lot of musical talent, but occasionally I can recognize it in others.
The two on the right are six years old. The centre two are seven and the girl on the left is 8.


Ding Dong! Momma calling...

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Jed has settled into his basement suite. He has We Care Home Services come each week day morning for a couple of hours to help organize his day and ensure the basic home operations get done somewhat regularly.

He has 3 or 4 regular workers who come in. As to be expected, he has a better rapport with some than others. One he was quite rude to. He had no explanation for this, said he didn't dislike her. He just ignored her while she was here. We have this kind of all worked out now, but for a while, he just didn't get out of bed when she rang the doorbell. I would have to go and unlock the door and let her in. For most other workers, he'd be up and usually showered before they got here.

He doesn't use an alarm clock very well. He either gets up waaay too early, or forgets to set it. So even though he "lives in his own place," it is still up to me to ensure he gets up on time for the workers, for church, for his job at the SPCA etc.

Of course, being the rather lazy…

Sick and tired of being sick and tired.

I'm still sick. And tired. I cough all night so I'm not sleeping. I haven't gone grocery shopping since well before Christmas and my cupboards reflect it. I keep putting it off cuz I don't feel like fighting a cart through the compact snowy parking lots.

I thought I'd drag Alb along with me after work today. I waited for about and hour and a half for him to return home, before Jed informed me he was at a meeting. Knowing there is very little for lunches tomorrow, I figured I'd better trudge off on my own, despite my lack of enthusiasm for such an adventure.

The parking lot was far more full than I expected for a Sunday at 5:30. I got inside the store only to realize there were no carts inside. This should have only been be a minor irritation, but it totally pissed me off, so I left.

Knowing there was not much for supper, I drove through McDonalds to grab a burger on my way home. (Ok, it wasn't exactly on my way - but it was near the liquor store I decided to d…

It tastes awful.

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I have been sick for a week. At one point I thought I was going to cough up a lung.

I rang in New Year's with a mug of Neo Citron. Well, I didn't exactly ring in the new year. It was more like I was sound asleep in my recliner while Alb watched the recorded World Junior's hockey game. The neighbour's fireworks went off at midnight and I cocked one eye open and said, "Ah, I can go to bed now."

I knew yesterday that I was probably on the mend when I started getting bored and wondering just what my Buckley's face looked like. Of course one cannot see their own Buckley's face in a mirror because, like sneezing, it is impossible to keep ones eyes open. So, out came the camera.

Then I remembered a commercial I had seen about a contest for the awfulest face. I tried to enter, but it was closed. Darn. I think I woulda won.





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For everything else there's Mastercard.

About once or twice a year Jed treats the family to take out. A couple of months ago he ordered pizza from Panago. It was his first experience at paying at the door with his bank card. The hand held machine asked him if he wanted to pay a tip. Since only he and the driver were at the door, he asked the driver what he should do. The driver, thankfully not taking full advantage of the situation, told him just to add 2 dollars.

I don't know what he pressed, but the tip came to 26 cents.

We all kind of chuckled about this and I thought I should stop off at Panago the next day and leave the nice guy a tip - however I never did. Ah, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Brandi and Kore were up over the Christmas holidays and one evening were going out to dinner with friends. Jed was feeling left out and decided he'd walk to Boston Pizza to treat himself to his own dinner out.

Glad for a nice quiet evening of steak and hockey with my husband, I handed over Jed's bank card. …