I know I missed last NWW and that 'cause I had sort of developed a reclusiveness for the past couple of weeks that was new to me. I was even being reclusive online, mostly lurking. Strange, eh? Digital recluse? It was accompanied by having a hard time seeing the brighter side. So I abstained from NWW. I kinda missed it.
I tried to look at the brighter side of things all day today, which is good, cause it really does work and if you're a person that has trouble finding the silver lining, try committing for just one day. Really truly committing, I assure you, you will not be disappointed.
But I don't really want to talk about NWW. Wanna know why? You do?!? Great!
I started reading an oft praised series of books. And then, then I had to see the show based on the books. Yeah. Count me amongst the number of TrueBlood fans. I'ma huge geek. I know. I bought the book set on Sunday. I'm on book two. Nearly finished it, in fact. No, not much else is getting done round here. And the show? Well I watched 7 episodes yesterday. 7!
Have I mentioned I have a bit of an addictive personality? And escapism is my drug of choice? Yeah. I do. Tomorrow, I think it would be prudent if the little mind reader and her band of vampy friends and I parted ways at least for a day. You know, so my family doesn't write me off for lost.
Ok, I totally had to come back to add this; the one, the only Danica Dragonfly has participated in NWW!!!! Publicly. On her blog. I kind feel like I mighta had something to do with that (I did, I so did). Danica, I promise not to gloat at work tomorrow. Well, I promise to try not to gloat anyway. Aw, C'mon, you know I looooove ya! And you love me, too, especially when I am being annoying!
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Wow! NWW, Again!
Hehe, I stole the picture from AvB and she stole it from Lainey, I think and I'm pretty sure I know where Lainey got it. And all this petty theft is making me a little giddy.Little bit of bad news (it's taken me this long to gear up to tell y'all), I didn't get that job I applied for. Can one be too over-eager? If so, I was. Anyway, I'm not too upset about it, I think I've got something else cooking.
Speaking of cooking: The kids and I went to a local apple farm Sunday and picked a shit ton of apples (about 40lbs or 18.9 kgs (that's the official calculation of a shit ton, seriously, look it up)). I have already baked 9 (9!) apple crumbles. I am about to go bake Apple Streusel bread....mmm streusel...maaahhh....Oh! Sorry! and Apple Blueberry muffins with a crunchy topping. I want to make a Spoonerism of my muffins, like Mooberry Bluffins. Hmmm. How 'bout Mapple Bluffins? Maybe. Your turn! Think of a Spoonerism! It'll be fun!
Ok, I'm going. I know, I'm reaching.
Adios!
Monday, September 14, 2009
Is It Just Me?
Ok, so I know it's not, my co-worker Danica mentioned that she saw it too. I'm just wondering who else can see it? Oh, and I may be a little obsessed with Leonard Cohen at the moment. Don't worry, I generally have a short attention span.
Friday, September 11, 2009
Never Forget
I kind of borrowed the title from Ahamos and Figgy, I hope they don't mind.
Do you remember where you were eight years ago today? I do.
I had taken my not quite 1 year old son (he turned 1 on the 18th) and all of the comforters in the house to the Laundromat to be washed. We only had an apartment sized washer and dryer at home and the comforters didn’t fit in them. When I walked in everyone was gathered beneath a TV hanging from the ceiling in the waiting area. Curious, I joined the 6 or 7 already there and asked the attendant what was going on. They were tuned into CNN and a skyscraper was in flames. It seemed they were playing an endless loop of a commercial airplane colliding with that skyscraper. The attendant explained that someone had flown a plane into the World Trade Centre. My first thought was; one of the major airlines was going to have to do a whole lot of pretty talking to get out of the hole that accident had just dug for them. Then, as we watched in horror, another plane hit the first skyscraper’s twin. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that it was an accident, I knew in my heart of hearts, catastrophes like that didn’t happen twice in one day. But perhaps thats just hindsight talking.
As soon as I could, I called my husband. Being the world traveller that I am ( < -- a lie) I asked him where the World Trade Centre was. He told me New York and asked why. I told him why. He relayed the information to the rest of the crew he was working with that day. Insert appropriate exclamations of surprise, sufficient ooooh’s and ahhhhh’s.
For the remainder of the day, I tuned in to CNN and watched the truth unfold.
For those of you that have spent any amount of time around here, you know my husband is gainfully employed with the Canadian Armed Forces, for my newest readers, now you know too. At the time, my husband worked a 7am – 3pm shift. The base was approximately a 6 minute drive from our house. At around 4:15pm, I called the base. One of my husband’s superiors took a message. A few minutes later my husband returned my call.
When my husband joined the Military (along with two of his closest friends) it was a decision carefully weighed between us. My only stipulation was this: Non-Combatant. For my peace of mind, he agreed, all the while reminding me ours is a peace keeping country. Canada does not fight wars. We believed every word he said. Naive. So, he is an airplane mechanic.
My husband told me he didn’t know what time he would be home, the base was at it's highest security level and he had been armed. The base we were living on was the designated alternate runway for Toronto's Pearson International Airport and in light of the day's events, Pearson had refused anymore air traffic. My response through tears brought on by one of the most intense fears I have ever known was; “But we’re peacekeepers, we’ve never hurt anyone, we DON”T FIGHT! YOU PROMISED!” He had to go; there were other men and woman with families at home wondering why they were late.
If I remember correctly, he came home shortly before midnight. He was to be ready at a moments notice.
I was watching President Bush address the world. I was enamoured with the man who called the world to arms against terrorism. Heh.
My husband has completed 4 tours in the Middle East in support of the War On Terror. During each of those tours there was a ban on all media in the Sprite home. I d
id not want to know how many soldiers were being sent home draped in a Canadian flag. My mother would, unfailingly, call each and every time another soldier was killed to ask how long it had been since I last heard from my husband. Communication blackouts on the base overseas drove me very near to the edge. Once, I just happened to be looking out the front door when an MP's cruiser pulled into my driveway. My hands and feet went cold, every bit of moisture in my mouth dried, my heart jumped into my throat and imitated a jackhammer, sound took on a fishbowl quality. He was simply using my driveway to turn around. Relief unhinged my knees. And so I sat until I could stand again.
I dried the tears of my children many times because they feared for their Dad, because they missed him. How do you explain war to a child? One you aren't sure your country has any business fighting?
We have a friend, one of the ones that joined the same day as my husband, he joined Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. The first battalion that deployed from Canada. The very battalion that was a part of the friendly fire incident. He's not the man he once was.
My cousin; sent home with an injury after the tank he was in ran over a roadside bomb.
I can only imagine the grief 9/11 has caused the families of the victims. Of the plane crashes and of the subsequent war. I know the heartache it has caused in my world and it has only touched us in a branching sort of way. I don't know if memorializing 9/11 has any great effect. For my part, it was a day I shed a measure of innocence for a maturity I may have been better off without.
The pebble was dropped in an American pond, but the waves have touched the world and the world has changed in their wake.
Do you remember where you were eight years ago today? I do.
I had taken my not quite 1 year old son (he turned 1 on the 18th) and all of the comforters in the house to the Laundromat to be washed. We only had an apartment sized washer and dryer at home and the comforters didn’t fit in them. When I walked in everyone was gathered beneath a TV hanging from the ceiling in the waiting area. Curious, I joined the 6 or 7 already there and asked the attendant what was going on. They were tuned into CNN and a skyscraper was in flames. It seemed they were playing an endless loop of a commercial airplane colliding with that skyscraper. The attendant explained that someone had flown a plane into the World Trade Centre. My first thought was; one of the major airlines was going to have to do a whole lot of pretty talking to get out of the hole that accident had just dug for them. Then, as we watched in horror, another plane hit the first skyscraper’s twin. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that it was an accident, I knew in my heart of hearts, catastrophes like that didn’t happen twice in one day. But perhaps thats just hindsight talking.
As soon as I could, I called my husband. Being the world traveller that I am ( < -- a lie) I asked him where the World Trade Centre was. He told me New York and asked why. I told him why. He relayed the information to the rest of the crew he was working with that day. Insert appropriate exclamations of surprise, sufficient ooooh’s and ahhhhh’s.
For the remainder of the day, I tuned in to CNN and watched the truth unfold.
For those of you that have spent any amount of time around here, you know my husband is gainfully employed with the Canadian Armed Forces, for my newest readers, now you know too. At the time, my husband worked a 7am – 3pm shift. The base was approximately a 6 minute drive from our house. At around 4:15pm, I called the base. One of my husband’s superiors took a message. A few minutes later my husband returned my call.
When my husband joined the Military (along with two of his closest friends) it was a decision carefully weighed between us. My only stipulation was this: Non-Combatant. For my peace of mind, he agreed, all the while reminding me ours is a peace keeping country. Canada does not fight wars. We believed every word he said. Naive. So, he is an airplane mechanic.
My husband told me he didn’t know what time he would be home, the base was at it's highest security level and he had been armed. The base we were living on was the designated alternate runway for Toronto's Pearson International Airport and in light of the day's events, Pearson had refused anymore air traffic. My response through tears brought on by one of the most intense fears I have ever known was; “But we’re peacekeepers, we’ve never hurt anyone, we DON”T FIGHT! YOU PROMISED!” He had to go; there were other men and woman with families at home wondering why they were late.
If I remember correctly, he came home shortly before midnight. He was to be ready at a moments notice.
I was watching President Bush address the world. I was enamoured with the man who called the world to arms against terrorism. Heh.
My husband has completed 4 tours in the Middle East in support of the War On Terror. During each of those tours there was a ban on all media in the Sprite home. I d
id not want to know how many soldiers were being sent home draped in a Canadian flag. My mother would, unfailingly, call each and every time another soldier was killed to ask how long it had been since I last heard from my husband. Communication blackouts on the base overseas drove me very near to the edge. Once, I just happened to be looking out the front door when an MP's cruiser pulled into my driveway. My hands and feet went cold, every bit of moisture in my mouth dried, my heart jumped into my throat and imitated a jackhammer, sound took on a fishbowl quality. He was simply using my driveway to turn around. Relief unhinged my knees. And so I sat until I could stand again.
I dried the tears of my children many times because they feared for their Dad, because they missed him. How do you explain war to a child? One you aren't sure your country has any business fighting?
We have a friend, one of the ones that joined the same day as my husband, he joined Princess Patricia's Canadian Light Infantry. The first battalion that deployed from Canada. The very battalion that was a part of the friendly fire incident. He's not the man he once was.
My cousin; sent home with an injury after the tank he was in ran over a roadside bomb.
I can only imagine the grief 9/11 has caused the families of the victims. Of the plane crashes and of the subsequent war. I know the heartache it has caused in my world and it has only touched us in a branching sort of way. I don't know if memorializing 9/11 has any great effect. For my part, it was a day I shed a measure of innocence for a maturity I may have been better off without.
The pebble was dropped in an American pond, but the waves have touched the world and the world has changed in their wake.
Wednesday, September 9, 2009
Strange....
Whenever I post a video, the comments link goes bye-bye. Anyone know what's up with that?
Update: So it seems I may be the only one experiencing this particular problem with my blog because, well, people commented. The only way I can see that there are comments is to click on the post and bring it up on it's own. Still strange...
Update: So it seems I may be the only one experiencing this particular problem with my blog because, well, people commented. The only way I can see that there are comments is to click on the post and bring it up on it's own. Still strange...
You Know What Today Is!
Let me start out by apologizing to anyone who was checking in to see how I did on Friday (I know there is at least one of you). I was in a bit of a funk this weekend that was preventing me from piecing together a coherent written sentence. But if you are still interested, it went well. I think. I hope. Anyway, I got some good advice from a friend and am going to follow up tomorrow (I would have sooner, but this week is flying by).
On to the festivities!
My reasons for being happy today are:
1. My daughter and I are getting along very well this week. She's thirteen and that seems to be about the age that young girls begin honing the devil in them (I remember nurturing mine), and her and I have been a little like a lit fuse and dynamite. We could only come together long enough to cause an explosion! This week though? Not so much. We've been talking, working together, and laughing! It's wonderful. I hope it lasts. It probably won't. Because like I said, 13 year old girls are all like Linda Blair in the Exorcist on occasion, but this is a welcome relief. Now that I have told people about this phenomenon, it will surely disappear and leave no trace of it's existence.
2. I seemed to have developed some sort of killer housewife skills over the summer. For those of you who don't know me, I try mighty hard but I am not Martha Stewart (the good Martha, not the criminal Martha). I would like so much to be organized, creative, happy when it comes to the stuff a wife and mother is responsible for. I rarely am. I have moments, I do, but no lasting power. Well, the kids went back to school last Wednesday and things are going smashingly! So far, all the dishes are done, everyone is getting a healthy lunch (it's usually the hubby that misses out), most of the laundry is clean (I would love for all of it to be done, but listen, I'm not Super-Mom).
3. I'm kind of happy about No Whining Wednesday. I woke up this morning ready to tear a strip off the first available mammal because I have developed trouble sleeping. Which in and of itself is making me nuckin' futs. My parents used to host the odd party at our house, where my father's speakers proved their worth: I slept through it. My parents went through a fairly vocal divorce: no trouble sleeping. My hubby and I separated for a year about 10 years ago, did I lose sleep over it? No. My point is nothing has kept me from getting a good night's sleep before now. Lately? On weeknights, you know, the nights before I have to go to work the next day, I sleep like shit. On the weekends, nooooo problemo, comatose. Which leads me to believe, despite my ability to sleep through all manner of noise previously and be unaffected by stress, my job has managed to cause me enough stinkin' stress to interrupt my sleep pattern. Anyhoo, I decided not to tear any one's head off cause I was poorly rested and tired because "It's No Whining Wednesday, so I can't bitch and moan".
4. I have gone for a walk 5 days in a row! Yay! A small step toward a healthier me (no pun intended).
And just for fun, my favourite dance from last nights SYTYCD Canada, Corynne and Austin (I couldn't find a shorter clip, they start around the 5:10 mark).
Oh and Mr. Sprite has taken to calling Austin Ponch Jr. Go ahead and look up Eric Estrada and tell me the resemblance doesn't exist.
On to the festivities!
My reasons for being happy today are:
1. My daughter and I are getting along very well this week. She's thirteen and that seems to be about the age that young girls begin honing the devil in them (I remember nurturing mine), and her and I have been a little like a lit fuse and dynamite. We could only come together long enough to cause an explosion! This week though? Not so much. We've been talking, working together, and laughing! It's wonderful. I hope it lasts. It probably won't. Because like I said, 13 year old girls are all like Linda Blair in the Exorcist on occasion, but this is a welcome relief. Now that I have told people about this phenomenon, it will surely disappear and leave no trace of it's existence.
2. I seemed to have developed some sort of killer housewife skills over the summer. For those of you who don't know me, I try mighty hard but I am not Martha Stewart (the good Martha, not the criminal Martha). I would like so much to be organized, creative, happy when it comes to the stuff a wife and mother is responsible for. I rarely am. I have moments, I do, but no lasting power. Well, the kids went back to school last Wednesday and things are going smashingly! So far, all the dishes are done, everyone is getting a healthy lunch (it's usually the hubby that misses out), most of the laundry is clean (I would love for all of it to be done, but listen, I'm not Super-Mom).
3. I'm kind of happy about No Whining Wednesday. I woke up this morning ready to tear a strip off the first available mammal because I have developed trouble sleeping. Which in and of itself is making me nuckin' futs. My parents used to host the odd party at our house, where my father's speakers proved their worth: I slept through it. My parents went through a fairly vocal divorce: no trouble sleeping. My hubby and I separated for a year about 10 years ago, did I lose sleep over it? No. My point is nothing has kept me from getting a good night's sleep before now. Lately? On weeknights, you know, the nights before I have to go to work the next day, I sleep like shit. On the weekends, nooooo problemo, comatose. Which leads me to believe, despite my ability to sleep through all manner of noise previously and be unaffected by stress, my job has managed to cause me enough stinkin' stress to interrupt my sleep pattern. Anyhoo, I decided not to tear any one's head off cause I was poorly rested and tired because "It's No Whining Wednesday, so I can't bitch and moan".
4. I have gone for a walk 5 days in a row! Yay! A small step toward a healthier me (no pun intended).
And just for fun, my favourite dance from last nights SYTYCD Canada, Corynne and Austin (I couldn't find a shorter clip, they start around the 5:10 mark).
Oh and Mr. Sprite has taken to calling Austin Ponch Jr. Go ahead and look up Eric Estrada and tell me the resemblance doesn't exist.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Hmmmm.....
Hi! Happy No Whining Wednesday! What? I know it's Thursday, thanks for pointing out that I'm late, but I thought better late than never. Yesterday I was at home sick. I promise I didn't whine too much. Not anymore than was absolutely necessary to get the attention required to get all better. Other than that, NWW was pretty uneventful.
I'm not sure what to blog about tonight. My thoughts are all disjointed, no real train to them. Nothing really interesting has happened this week. Cause, you know, I'm all kinds of interesting every other week.
Things I would like to blog about but don't have attention span needed tonight:
1) Age inappropriate songs I would sing each and every word to as a youngster (the next edition of By Today's Standards)
2) Whether or not Canada should pull out of Afghanistan when our UN/NATO commitment is up in 2011. I read a newspaper article about a month ago that got me pretty riled up. And as the blog title would suggest, I have an opinion on the matter. Also, I'm a military spouse so, it's kind of a given.
3) A poem I wrote and have yet to finish (attention span) for NWW.
Oh! The kids started school yesterday. I'm not a parent who shoves my kids out the front door the first day of school and then thanks whatever brand of God I pray to that they are finally out of my hair. I like having my kids home. If I could afford it (and thought I was even close to being able to do them justice) I would home school them. So I'm always a little sad on the first day of school. So, my son gets off the school bus all long faced and glum yesterday afternoon. I ask him why the long face? Did he have a bad day? He tells me he got into trouble. I know my son. He's got the attention span of ....well a 9 year old boy (he leans a little toward 9 year old on chocolate, if I'm being honest, sweet, milky chocolate). He has to be engaged. He doesn't yet possess the will to concentrate on the task at hand without guidance. The other end of that is if he is interested, its hard to get him to notice anything else. I figured he got into trouble for goofing off. Not so much. He tells me they were asked to record a summer memory, but they can't use sentences. They have to use words and pictures (it took a number of questions before I got the gist of what he was told). He was having a hard time limiting himself to that. So there's a note in his agenda saying he didn't think he should have to follow instruction and I quote "Not a good start to grade 4". On the first day.
Last year, I tried to be super sweet. Last year, I tried to be nice. I wrote long notes spouting how much I agreed with the teachers point of view and how I thought it was important we communicate. I drilled my son every day. To no avail. My son got stressed, I got stressed and the teacher continued to be a bitch. Don't get me wrong, my son can be a challenge, and I can only imagine how much more challenging it becomes with 20 or so more very much like him. Fact is though, she teaches for a living. Is patience not listed as a job requirement? This year I said fuck it. I wrote a note back. I informed Mrs. Impatience that I thought she was being a little hasty with her judgement and requested she give the kids a chance to get back into a groove. I was not polite. What happened? She wrote a note back. It was full of butterflies and puppy kisses assuring me she wasn't judging.
So tell me this folks: why is it when I bend over backwards to be nice, I go out of my way trying to appease the unappeasable (hmm, not sure that's a word), I get jack for my efforts. I get a bit of a backbone, tell a person or two off and then people start treating me differently. With more respect. Ok, so let me see if I've got this straight: Nice Girl = Door Mat, Bitch = Respect? Nope, that ain't fucked up at all.
Well, I'm done spreading sunshine for this evening. I'll be back tomorrow cause I've got a job interview and I'm going to need someone to wallow in my pity with me or to help celebrate (let's hope for the latter). G'nite folks!
I'm not sure what to blog about tonight. My thoughts are all disjointed, no real train to them. Nothing really interesting has happened this week. Cause, you know, I'm all kinds of interesting every other week.
Things I would like to blog about but don't have attention span needed tonight:
1) Age inappropriate songs I would sing each and every word to as a youngster (the next edition of By Today's Standards)
2) Whether or not Canada should pull out of Afghanistan when our UN/NATO commitment is up in 2011. I read a newspaper article about a month ago that got me pretty riled up. And as the blog title would suggest, I have an opinion on the matter. Also, I'm a military spouse so, it's kind of a given.
3) A poem I wrote and have yet to finish (attention span) for NWW.
Oh! The kids started school yesterday. I'm not a parent who shoves my kids out the front door the first day of school and then thanks whatever brand of God I pray to that they are finally out of my hair. I like having my kids home. If I could afford it (and thought I was even close to being able to do them justice) I would home school them. So I'm always a little sad on the first day of school. So, my son gets off the school bus all long faced and glum yesterday afternoon. I ask him why the long face? Did he have a bad day? He tells me he got into trouble. I know my son. He's got the attention span of ....well a 9 year old boy (he leans a little toward 9 year old on chocolate, if I'm being honest, sweet, milky chocolate). He has to be engaged. He doesn't yet possess the will to concentrate on the task at hand without guidance. The other end of that is if he is interested, its hard to get him to notice anything else. I figured he got into trouble for goofing off. Not so much. He tells me they were asked to record a summer memory, but they can't use sentences. They have to use words and pictures (it took a number of questions before I got the gist of what he was told). He was having a hard time limiting himself to that. So there's a note in his agenda saying he didn't think he should have to follow instruction and I quote "Not a good start to grade 4". On the first day.
Last year, I tried to be super sweet. Last year, I tried to be nice. I wrote long notes spouting how much I agreed with the teachers point of view and how I thought it was important we communicate. I drilled my son every day. To no avail. My son got stressed, I got stressed and the teacher continued to be a bitch. Don't get me wrong, my son can be a challenge, and I can only imagine how much more challenging it becomes with 20 or so more very much like him. Fact is though, she teaches for a living. Is patience not listed as a job requirement? This year I said fuck it. I wrote a note back. I informed Mrs. Impatience that I thought she was being a little hasty with her judgement and requested she give the kids a chance to get back into a groove. I was not polite. What happened? She wrote a note back. It was full of butterflies and puppy kisses assuring me she wasn't judging.
So tell me this folks: why is it when I bend over backwards to be nice, I go out of my way trying to appease the unappeasable (hmm, not sure that's a word), I get jack for my efforts. I get a bit of a backbone, tell a person or two off and then people start treating me differently. With more respect. Ok, so let me see if I've got this straight: Nice Girl = Door Mat, Bitch = Respect? Nope, that ain't fucked up at all.
Well, I'm done spreading sunshine for this evening. I'll be back tomorrow cause I've got a job interview and I'm going to need someone to wallow in my pity with me or to help celebrate (let's hope for the latter). G'nite folks!
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