One Part Inspiration...

In my programming, I am into Springtime activities.  It goes along with putting away the winter clothes.  Let's not think about songs that have snow in them.  Let's bring out the songs of hope and new plantings. Today, our afternoon group took a song called "Springtime in the Rockies" and changed it up to "Springtime in the Valley". It turned out to be so much fun.  We started by talking about the difference between the spring we are experiencing and what the rest of the country is going through.  Apparently it has been the worst winter E.V.E.R. in some parts, with a new load of snow arriving just this week.  One man mentioned that his son who 'lived over there' said there was 9 - 10 feet of snow piled up - and that was BEFORE the new snowfall arrived. Meantime, in the Valley, we have: and and the sound of Much as we try not to rub it in, we cannot relate to the feeling of going out for a walk just to see if there is a ...

When my son was six, he got very upset one day.  He sobbed and sobbed.  "My whole life has been a disaster except for when I was four". There are days, when I echo his thoughts.  

"The rain falls on the just and the unjust."  "But it rains more on the just, because the unjust steals the just's umbrella." Ever feel like one of those days?  I purposely choose not to focus on 'having one of those days'  in this forum.  This doesn't mean that I don't have them.  Or form the posts about said days in my head. I generally figure that talking about bad days and grumpy moods is better left to a place where posterity won't remember it. But there are days when the rain falls, and plans fail. Days when wheels spin and simple things become complicated.  Today, was one of those.

Today, I faced the amalgam giants.  I went to the dentist.  It was a date I had avoided.  I thought I had put it off for a couple years, but it turns out it was closer to three.  I know, I know. Shoulda woulda coulda.  But the thought of little tiny machines whose audio frequencies make dogs around the dental office howl, and the sensation of periodontal scalers and curettes digging around in my mouth was enough to stop me from picking up the phone and making the appointment for almost 36 months..  During that time, I had been ignoring intermittent pain in my jaw.  I managed it, but it didn't go away, and I knew that one day, I would have to break down and reacquaint myself with novocaine and flouride treatments.  That day was today. I was very nervous about it.  After I announced my arrival, I distracted myself by playing Word Mole on my phone while I waited. I tried not to imagine (somewhat unsuccessfully) how many times in t...

Snow days are like ( sick days) .  Wake up. ( Wake up )  Look outside. ( Swallow ). Evaluate the snow. Is it coming down hard enough to warrant a call to the boss or is it likely to stop in a few minutes?  ( Evaluate ability to swallow - is it a sharp aching pain, or just a "I can muscle through this one" pain ?) Roll over, watch out the window for a few extra minutes.  ( Roll over, try to swallow again.  Put hand up on forehead to see if there is any fever ) Pick up the phone.  Put it down again ( Pick up the phone.  Put it down again ). Ask husband for his opinion.  Consider his opinion.   ( Ask husband to feel forehead to see if he feels the fever ). Wander up to shower.  Look out the window on the way up to see if there's any change in the amount of snow coming down. ( Wander up to shower.  Look in mirror.  Evaluate eyes to see if they look more bloodshot than usual )  Decide that if it isn't any bet...

Summer has come to an end.  At least the school holiday has. The weather seems reticient to let go of  vacation mode.  I concur. Who wants to return to schedules? Who wants to shoulder the backpacks? Is anyone actually interested in active and passive voice, direct and indirect objects, or compound and complex sentences? Does anyone really care about absolute values or distributive properties? Is there an absolute need to expound on the effects of common diseases in 19th century London, or wax eloquent on the relative bouyancy of supermarket eggs? Couldn't we just hang out for a few more days and watch the sun rise and the sun set while enjoying pancake breakfasts and BBQ's on the back deck?

Ah yes. The eternal internal argument. I feel lousy. Should I stay home tomorrow, or go to work? How bad does one have to feel before it is o.k. to decide the night before, that work is not an option for the next day. The problem that arises is,that if I don't go to my job where I get sick benefits, I can't really show up at the other ones where I don't get sick benefits. It's not "Kosher" in my vocabulary. So far this week, I have cancelled three of those jobs. It's a costly decision - not that I have to give the money back, but at the end of the month, that's money that won't come in. I have been trying to circumvent the symptoms - downing hot lemon and honey, like I have stocks in the company and been sucking on Strepsils like they are candy. This has resulted in a throat that is less sore, but still scratchy. One moment, I feel like "Hey, I think I'm on the upward swing". The next, my husband is elbowing me in the ribs to jostle...

Many evenings when I am waiting for my son to finish his soccer practice, I end up at the library. It is a low-cost way to while away an hour. If I step foot into a store, I am guaranteed to spend money. Coming to the library helps me avoid that temptation. One thing is for sure. Libraries ain't what they used to be. My #2 brother often walked downtown to the library in the city where we lived. Sometimes he invited me on the trip. It took a long time to walk there (he strode, and I hip-hopped/walked to try and keep up) - I think it was an hour...or maybe it was just a very long twenty-five minutes. Every time I arrived at that building, I was awestruck. It was such an imposing place to a little girl. The building was tall. The stairs leading up to the entrance were many. And once we actually entered the building, there were certain unsaid rules as to what was appropriate and what was not, which added to the formidable feeling of actually being in the library. There were a ton of bo...

I am wind lagged. It is similar to being jet lagged, only this weariness comes from experiencing a marathon windstorm. For five days, it has been ripping through our prairies like an angry dragon lashing out with a ferocious tail. It barely dies down, when it begins again. It drives the temperature lower, and bites the faces of anyone who dares to step outside. It shows no interest in moving on. I am tired of this five-day temper tantrum. I need a rest! This wind is no whistler. This wind is a rumbler. It begins on the field and flies through the willows, and whips around the evergreens. It shakes the house - as if it had the power to turn the house inside out. I half believe it. Tonight, I came up the driveway, and saw what I thought was great garbage bags of leaves. But it was the sheep taking shelter any way they could; they were leaning up against the house, and the hedge, in a desperate attempt to find the leeward side. I almost joined them. Our neighbours referred to the windstor...

It's the first day of school. All summer, I refused to think too much about it. I lived in the moment, reticient to admit that school would ever begin again. Well, it has and of course, it has set me off on a million different pathways of memories of getting the kids off to school. When a good friend and I each were holding our firstborns, we looked at each other one day, and said " It's only five years before they begin school ." In those days, five years seemed like a very long time. And yet, the years went screaming by and suddenly, it was time to start their formal education. The first day my daughter went to kindergarten was chaotic. The night before, we had welcomed my oldest sister for a visit with us. I had a four-month old baby, and my other child was three. My husband took my daughter to school. I hardly had time to take a picture of her on this momentous occasion, before she was whisked away. Somehow, I had thought I'd be able to take in the moment and ...

I have been researching various opportunities that might evolve into new career pathways. Doesn't that sound impressive? Simply put, I am looking for work. Let me clarify. I'm looking for more , paid work. I don't need a lot; just about five or so more hours. To date, I have been putting out feelers for more contract work, and I have done a lot of reading about all the careers I could apply for through the government "find a job" website. Doing all this research has given me some solid ideas. I've decided I don't want to do 'in-home care', or be a dispatch operator. I'm not ready to be a line cook, and I'm not qualified to be a truck driver. I could be a monk. O.k., maybe not. [Although that was a real posting.] I'm not really interested in being a tour guide. I could possibly try my hand at 'Art Instruction'. Move over Picasso. Again, not such a good plan. It is pretty overwhelming trying to decide what to do w...

" Would you like a medium or large with your order?" "Would you like butter on your popcorn?" "Would you like to make it a Mocha?" "Would you like to apply for this job?" "Would you like your child to attend the dance?" All of these are questions I have been asked recently. My first response has been " Sure! I'm extra thirsty. Give me the large ". " Butter? Absolutely. Yum ." " Chicken would go great on my salad ". " Job?!! Sign me up! " " Of course I want to let my child enjoy every bit of his grad experience. Let him dance like nobody's watching ." Then the truth is revealed. None of these are inclusive. The large drink? It costs extra. The butter on the popcorn? That will be another 75 cents. Choose the mocha option, and add 25 cents to the bill (before taxes). The job requires a police check (my cost), along with several other items too tedious to mention. ...

About a week ago, we were at The Pokeaway. My job was to sweep up and tidy the corners. There's so much dust and dirt and dry wall kibbly bits and sawdust, and nails. I fashioned a corner-getter from a rogue bit of wood and got as much as I could. I was being very careful to avoid the nails. On one of my trips back from the dumpster, I found one sticking out of the concrete. Unfortunately, I didn't see it before I stepped on it. It went through my shoe, into my foot. Man that hurt! I ignored it as best as I could, but by the evening, I was hobbling around. I fought off the infection by soaking it in epsom salts and putting Aloe Vera gel on it. Two days later, I was able to wear shoes again. However, all week, it felt like a combination of a giant bruise and walking on a frozen pea. Yesterday my foot didn't hurt as bad. Perhaps that's because when my husband was taking down the board I was holding, which were held the French Doors in place while the silicone ...

Looking for a new way to trim inches? I have the answer. It's all the rage in Paris, and L.A. and all those places where shee-shee-poo-poo people live. The idea of this exercise is revolutionary. It provides all three of the key types of of a work out; aerobic, flexibility, and strength. You'll find all kinds of muscles you didn't know you had. You'll never have another workout which will challenge you the same way. Best of all, there's no enrollment fee. No, you can do this for free! Interested? It is called the 5000-Shingle-Pick-Up.

Warning: This post contains graphi c illustrations. Viewer discretion is advised. There you are. The mom. All calm-like. Then BAM. MeLTdown! Why in the world does this happen so quickly? Where does it start? You can wake up in the morning and everything is going well, until you see that the garbage which was SUPPOSED TO BE EMPTIED LAST NIGHT, has seeped out of it's bag, all over the cupboard floor. You look a little closer, and now you see that the onions under there SOMEONE WAS ASKED TO put in a dry spot, are now smelling like they need more help than Dr. Phil can give. On top of that, the seepage has gone down through the cupboard into a sloppy mess on the floor which you just washed (and now you have stepped in it). And there you are. In a full scale MelTDOwn. You reach 0 - 60, in 2.5 seconds flat. Sometimes, you can sense a MEltDOWNN coming and try to head it off at the pass. Certain things have been building inside - things like seeing gobs of used toothpaste on the sink, or g...

Sometimes, trying to sleep in this house, is an exercise in futility. We live on the corner of a thoroughfare of traffic either trying to get to the freeway, or trying to get away from the freeway. No matter which way you slice the traffic pie, there's little discretion on the drivers' part as they fly down the hill towards our place, or away from our place. It matters little to them how fast they approach the intersection, or scream away from it. To top it off, two sides of the corner have a big dip in the road, so we get to be privy to crunching underbellies, as they race towards or away from the stop sign. The stop sign might as well be a suggestion. No one stops for it. They just slow down, check to see who else with whom they can play "Thread the needle", and sail on through. Then there are the emergency vehicles, which enjoy exercising their sirens on their way to and from various emergencies. Fire trucks, ambulance, police. Sometimes all in a matte...

"stop world i want to get off. " my mom used to say this, in moments when life threatened to steamroller over her. today i am echoing the sentiment. summer is drawing to a close. decisions have to be made about school, and work, and soccer, and life guard lessons, and driving tests, and guitar instruction. clothes need to be bought . shoes need replacing. groceries occupy daily thought, with two boys returned from camp. stuff has to be sorted. boxes have to be packed. tidying up the farm has to be done. renovations loom. summer-time decisions seem so much simpler . stop world. i want to get off.

The summer adventures have begun. It started by sitting in the government office for 1 1/2 hours with my #2 son waiting for someone to help him get his Social Insurance Number. He had to have it in order to work at camp. What fun! What adventures! What a colossal exercise of patience. We were fooled into thinking that it wouldn't be that long a wait by getting into line behind one other man. What we didn't see was the waiting room on the other side which was already filled by other people who had arrived when the office opened. We did get our share of entertainment , but it cut short the rest of the day's activities. While we were there, because of the close proximity of all who were in the office, we heard many stories we hadn't actually come to hear. The brother who had died and was sure to have a will but 'that woman' wouldn't let the other brother near it. The man who wouldn't give out his information to a cold call from a government worker who want...

The remnants of the vacation are all over the house. The suitcases are in various stages of unpacking all that was packed. The cooler sits waiting to be wiped down and put away for another day when we need to pack up the fridge. The GPS with "Angela's voice" is still programmed for "FIND VACATION SPOT" and every once in a while she blurts out "Recalculating" "At the earliest possible moment, make a U-turn." The answering machine is full, reminding us that all the obligations that we left behind are now in front of us again. The remaining homework can no longer be ignored. And yet...It's so good to be home!

I often think of Sisyphus, a character from Greek mythology, condemned to the eternal punishment by the gods for trickery. He was compelled to roll a huge rock up a steep hill, but before he could reach the top of the hill, the rock would always roll back down, forcing him to begin again. I wonder, did the gods give Sisyphus any tools to help him roll the rock? And while Sisyphus is rolling the rock up the hill for the umpteenth millionth billionth time, was he talking to himself? If so, was he saying: "Oh why, oh why, am I rolling this rock up the hill? It only rolls down again. Not to mention that I can't find the wedge I'm supposed to have to help me. I wish the gods would stop playing those jokes by hiding it on me...oh...would you look at that? The rock slipped away from me and now, it's rolling down the ...