Thursday, December 31, 2009

Happy New YARN !

I'm using all these luscious colours to make an afghan. In the New Year.

I do have some resolutions, but they are quite similar to many other peoples'.

I do have some reflections, but those are similar too.

Great minds think alike, eh?

So Happy New Yarn, Happy New Year, Snappy Poo Beer, Flappy Dew Spear.....

and here's to 2010!

Kathryn : )

Tuesday, December 29, 2009

Recently, formerly active mom

Is there a term for a mother who no longer actively mothers? A mom whose children have grown up and don't need her to feed and dress them? To set rules? To guide and advise? To nurse and chauffeur and remind and nag and admonish? To kiss boo-boos?

Ex-mom isn't quite right.
Passive mom? No, not quite right either.
Retired mom? Former mom?
Wrong. Wrong!

Chiddow? No, they haven't died; they've just grown up.

Maybe it's like the American President. Once they're no longer doing the job they're still called President so-and-so. What was once a vocation is now just a title. In honor of what they USED to do.

Mom-no-longer-in-office? Nah.

The ironic thing is, if you're an effective mother, you gradually work yourself out of a job. Planned obsolescence, in a way. Not designed to break, but to withdraw, to disengage.

To let go.

The great philosopher Velcro said it best: "RRRRRRRrrrrrrrrrrriiiiiiiiiipppp!"
(As in TIME has RIPPED my BABY from my LOVING ARMS. That's twice now, and it's not getting easier.)

It's pathetic, really, the way I just can't face reality. Like an aging starlet auditioning for leading lady, but getting the role of "old woman on bench". A background character in a filler scene, destined for the cutting room floor.

Two stories come to mind on this morning that I contemplate stale motherhood.

First story: This morning I made muffins for my 19-year-old. He still lives here, but just barely. He's been quite sick with a cold. Coughing and hacking all night, ignoring all advice to come home earlier than 3:00 am, to eat something other than fast food, to rest a little.
Last night he finally confessed that he hasn't been eating much lately - too sick - and that he needs to eat some good food.
This morning I laid out the wholesome ingredients: - nutri-flour, real butter, milk, eggs, blueberries (his favourite), and stirred the muffin-batter with passionate, motherly, jiggly arms.
Lovingly spooned it in to the cups and double-checked the oven timer. Popped those steaming bits of heavenly goodness onto a serving plate and drizzled butter on top, perfectly timed for his noon-ish emergence from the lair-cum-bedroom.

"Muffins!" I exclaimed breathlessly. "Fresh blueberry muffins!". "I've made them just for you", I trilled!

"Oh", he said, jiggling his car keys and guzzling cough syrup straight from the bottle, "I'm going out for breakfast with Anisha and Isaac".
And then he left.

I am now alone in the house with 12 muffins. Okay, okay, now only 10 muffins. Burp.
But, the point is - he doesn't need me. Wah!
He has total freedom, and I'm still emotionally stuck to him like the dingle-berry on my cat's bum.
I'm supposed to rejoice in his independence? Bah. I want to shove a muffin in his tail-pipe!

Second story:
Last summer I was out walking on the sea-wall in White Rock. A sea-side community with touristy shops, ice-cream parlours etc. Both sidewalks on either side of the main drag are thick with strollers, walkers, and runners of all ages. Beaches clogged with youth and beauty and bare skin....

A shirtless young man, of about 16 years, is walking toward me on the sidewalk. Behind him is a group of four women between 50-60 years old. Across the street the young man/boy spies a woman who must be his mother. It's an accidental meeting, but he wants something.
"Mom", he calls, and then louder, "MOM"! (like he's about to ask for the car keys or to borrow 20 bucks or something).

Without hesitation, with nary a conspiratorial look at each other, the four women behind the young man shout, in perfect unison, "WHAT?", and then burst into cackling, hysterical laughter.
They laughingly look around them, to see if everyone gets it. Does everyone get the joke? Yes, we do! They aren't his mom, but they still answer to Mom!
The young man starts to laugh then, as does his real mom, and the rest of us within hearing range.

We all get it: Once a mom, Always a mom. Even if we only practice occasionally. We still glow with pride; we still worry and fret. Sometimes we hover.
Maybe it should be called, "Mom-on-standby". We don't have to re-learn how to ride the mom bicycle, because we never really got off of it. We just coast, or pedal off in new and exciting directions, but we always circle back. Just to check. And if called, we'll be there in a heartbeat. Baking pans and band-aids and all.

Feeling bitter-sweet today,
Kathryn : )

Sunday, December 27, 2009

Random Happiness

This is the limbo between Christmas and the New Year.
For me, days of rest, relaxation and resolve. The most guilt-free days of the year, between the cyclone of Christmas, and the New Year, new goals and the advent of our busy season at work. Good intentions and unpredictable results.
One of the good intentions involves seizing the day and living in the moment. Finding happiness lying on the ground, picking it up and squeezing the poop out of it. Simple pleasures, fleeting moments. Bright and sharp and clear.
Some random things that make me happy:

A varied thrush eating a leftover baked potato. Cold. With snow on it. Probably the first potato he ever had in his life. Wonder what he thought of that?

A bevy of bushtits (love that name) decimating the suet block. Such flighty things, travelling in chittering clumps. Here and gone.

My daughter and mother wearing the scarves I made for them.

...and my son, and daughter's boyfriend wearing THEIR scarves...

...and my brother and father wearing THEIR scarves....

....and my husband wearing HIS scarf - the one I fudged a bit because it was my first one, and he said he'd have it so I could give the better ones to the rest of the gang. He's like that.

...and finally locating our missing cat. Half-way up the 10-foot Christmas tree. All 20 pounds of him. Just chillin' and thinking cat thoughts.
Happiness appears in the oddest places. Grab it and hold it tight, just for a moment!
Kathryn : )

Tuesday, December 22, 2009

Tragedy Strikes Local Village. Many Stricken.

'Twas a peaceful day in the village.....................

Suddenly, a plague descended upon the townspeople.

Witnesses see a mysterious CREATURE slinking through the village, striking innocent victims at random.

At last the CREATURE is revealed. It's Milo-zilla!!!!

There goes the Church!
Kathryn (and Milo) : )

Thursday, December 10, 2009

Mother Nature's Gift

To all those who are expecting a thoughtful post, saturated with meaning, brimming with wisdom and beauty:
You've come to the wrong blog.

This IS about nature's gift to me on my birthday (which was a few days ago), but it isn't particularly insightful, respectful nor anything other-ful. OK, maybe AWE-ful. Not full of awe, but just plain awful. The post, that is, not the gift, which was, er, splendid.

First, though, an apology for being absent for a month. I've been wrapped up in hand-wringing guilt, gut-wrenching worry, and basic survival. This is absolutely normal for me. Also, I've been going to work, sitting in Starbucks, gabbing with friends, and doing crafty things.

AND.... Annie has nominated be for a blog award, even though I have been very lax lately. (Annie, I will do the award acceptance-and-pass-it-on-thing just as soon as I get a chance. I thank you profusely as I hold my hand to your feverish brow and ask you if you've lost your mind.)

Annie is a beautiful person, living her dream life in a peaceful Cariboo valley. I want to be just like her when I grow up, which will probably never happen, considering the fact that I will never grow up, as evidenced by the following....

You can see from the photo that it's just about freezing in this neck of the woods. At night, it IS freezing, and this fact has great relevance to my story.
We have a few bird feeders scattered about the yard, as well as a round plastic birdbath attached to one of the feeder poles. I take great joy in watching the furred and feathered friends who decimate the suet and suck down the seeds at a budget-breaking rate. Nature in action right outside my kitchen window!

The night before my birthday, I cleaned and re-filled the birdbath and placed it back outside. It remained clean for about a nano-second before someone flew by and pooped in it, but it was a lot better than before. I went to bed knowing that nature's creatures would once again have access to clean, clear (and chlorinated) water.

The next day....

First let me tell you about water turning to ice. Generally, water will freeze first around a shallow perimeter, and then move gradually toward a deeper center. Think of the frozen edges of a lake. Water expands as it freezes. As my little lake of birdbath froze from it's edges toward the center, it expanded and "squeezed" (squoze?) the deeper water in the middle.

Suddenly, in the dead of night, we experienced a re-creation of the big bang. A perfect. crystalline moment that I wish I'd captured in video. In a birdbath, no less. The last bit of water in the birdbath finally froze, creating what was, for me, an amazing gift from mother nature.

That's right: an Ice-Weenie.

Aqua Erectus.
H2O Unplugged.

Look at it in all it's firm splendour.

A rock! A monolith!

Firm and unyielding, it proudly stands and points to the constellation of Orion (either that or the outlet stores across the line in Bellingham, I'm not sure which).

It's not every woman who gets a gift like this on her birthday.
I think it's a sign. A sign that although I am one wrinkly year older, I am not one whit more mature.

Kathryn : )

Monday, October 26, 2009

The Big Orange Circle of Life

Late October finds us once again preparing for that pagan holiday: Halloween.
Over 20 years ago I carved one small pumpkin for my first baby. Later, two pumpkins were carved for excited toddlers; me wielding the knife and they raking out the seeds and pulp with tiny fingers. Much mess and delighted laughter.
Later still; they grew to be able to draw the faces, hold the knives, and scoop out most of the muck. Invariable I cleaned up - at first because they couldn't do a good job, and later just to finish off their hurried efforts. Odd strings of orange slime pasted to counter-top edges and transferred from shirtsleeves to chair backs.
The tween years arrived. The costumes evolved from cute to macabre, fuzzy to gory. Interest in pumpkins waned slightly, and we no longer got them at the pumpkin patch, or grew our own, but grabbed them at the store during harried candy runs between work and home. Frenetic carving by Mom, candy flung into a bowl, and arguments about why they couldn't go trick-or-treating on their own this year even though "everyone else is allowed to!" Dad arriving home from work and being spun around at the front door and pushed back out to trail after impatient dead cheerleaders and chainsaw-massacre victims.
Older teens. Too old to look like they care about costumes, but too young to miss out on a pillowcase full of candy. Token make-up smeared on faces, and coat-less slouching out of the house to meet friends and knock on a few doors. Dad finally allowed to come home from work and stay home, only to be dragged outside to see 13 pumpkins carved by MOM. (I had to do something with my obsolete enthusiasm).
Mom and dad watching Halloween night TV with firecracker-traumatized cats scuttling about the house, all of us waiting for the kids to come home. Circumspect inspection of piles of candy dumped on the family room floor for sorting and trading. "That one looks like it's been tampered with - throw it out!". Rolled eyes and reluctant compliance. Pumpkin candles sizzled out by raindrops or burned down and flickering out on their own.
Finally, last year, I didn't carve any pumpkins. Didn't buy any. No roasted pumpkin seeds, no stringy muck. Lit a few candles in plastic pumpkins and placed them haphazardly in the driveway. Gave out candy to a new crop of kids I didn't know. One of my kids living elsewhere, the other one out at a party. Crappy Halloween - I felt empty.
This year - Hoo boy! My son and his girlfriend, blossoming young adults, decided to do it all. Drove to the store, bought the pumpkins with their own money (I don't care about the money, but it's a sign), scooped, carved, and cleaned up on their own!
They even bought a pumpkin for ME to carve.

Holy Cow. Talk about your circle of life whapping you in the face with delightful orange muck!

You cannot know the joy I felt, buzzing around the kitchen, roasting seeds, making pumpkin muffins, and watching "The Shining" (channel 53's fear fest playing discreetly in the background). I don't know whose smile was more manically gleeful - mine or Jack Nicholson's!

Sure, things have changed. The pumpkin have evolved from triangle-eyed innocents to cult movie characters (recognize Frank the Rabbit from Donnie Darko?). The kids are now definitely too old to go out trick-or-treating (and I will definitely not be able to sneak any candy from their spoils of war). Instead of "It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown", we'll watch "The Simpson's Halloween Special". The cats are either too old or too deaf to flinch at the firecrackers, and Dave and I will go to bed before the remaining kid arrives home for the evening.

But, the Great Pumpkin has risen again, at least at our house, and the Big Orange Circle of Life continues.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

A trip to London Drugs

Call it a shopping trip, call it impulse buying, call it retail therapy, call it what you like. I went to London Drugs today while Dave was at the dentist.....heh heh heh. Another Canadian retail gem, it fills in some of the gaps left by my beloved Canadian Tire, because as much as I love Crappy Tire, one cannot buy prescription drugs nor skincare products there. At least, if you can, I haven't found that aisle.

So, off to LD to buy some hairpoo and other items. I got a bit carried away due to the fact that I had a basket over my arm and stuff kept jumping into it. Not my fault. Anyhoo, the first thing that jumped in was this Joico Hairpoo. HEAVY!

Not only is it one big mama of a hairpoo bottle, it also helps with one's balance. Says so right on the bottle, and here it is balancing on the fencepost so I can take it's picture. Here's a closeup! Isn't it talented?

After that I found the hairpoo I REALLY wanted, this pantene super volume stuff, because I've been noticing a lot of hair ripping falling out lately, so I've decided that I need to make the most of what remains. Here are my new pantene twins, and I hope they puff up my hair like botox-y lips, for that sexy tousled look we all want at all times.

Here are the twins. May they serve me well! Oh dear....a sudden, scary thought. Does this stuff plump up ALL the hair on one's body? Hmmm....This could lead to a bit of a 'fro below....
(if it does I'll let you know!) No I won't.
(So much for that wispy new underwear I just bought).

Ahem! Now on to some skin stuff:

I bought this Aveeno hand cream stuff because I saw a positive review of it in a QUILTING magazine, and I am currently in training to become a QUILTER and have bought all the stuff, so now I feel that I must have the handcream of a quilter, as well. Makes sense, no? Besides, I like the name. Aveeno, aveeno, aveeno. Ah-VEEEEE-no!
Then I saw this cool body wash stuff, so I threw that in the basket too.

Then I saw.... DAVE? Dave got out of the dentist and came into LD, so I had to run away down the aisle and around the corner so he wouldn't see me (and stop me). So much for more Aveeno.

Around the corner from the Aveeno aisle is the hand soap section. I hurriedly grabbed an olive-leaf scented pump bottle and scurried around back to the skincare aisle. I caught sight of Dave looking for me, but dropped to the floor and rolled behind a display of hot water bottles, where I waited until he passed. I saw him pressing buttons on his cell phone, so I quickly turned mine off!

As I got to my feet I found myself face to face with the Oil of Olay section. Interpreting this as a divine message from above I grabbed a bottle of Olay Total Effects (7 in 1 Anti-Aging Moisturizer, plus 'Touch of Sun') and thought, "What the heck, you only live once (but look like you've lived 8 times by the time you're done). I am ready for anti-aging. Bring it on! De-wrinklify me! Puff up the rest of me to match my hair!"

Suddenly I heard Dave approaching again, so quickly dove behind a tower of Depends (unlike the Oil of Olay, I refuse to interpret THIS as a message from above. Not ready for Depends yet. ) until he passed. Crawling under his radar, I rounded another aisle. I found myself right in front of a new product I've been wanting to try: Tetley Tea Infusions. Here it is, and I see I've accidentally intentionally photographed the French side, because here in Canada we are all bilingual, which means we all have two lips, and therefore can sip some of this Tetley Tea Infusions through a straw. I'm so glad I'm bilingual. Oh Canada, bien agiter!

OK, enough pictures of my shameless consumerism. Dave eventually caught me in the Premature Halloween Candy aisle, where I was trying to open up prevent a bag of Tootsie rolls from jumping in to my basket. Failed.
He added some batteries and a new water bottle, and we headed for the checkout.
As we left LD, Dave turned to me with suspicion love in his eyes. "Isn't your phone turned on?", he said.
"Honey", I said, "Never mind the phone. I bought this new Pantene stuff and can't wait to try it...."
Kathryn : )

Monday, September 21, 2009

There's nothing like a good BM

Hi there,

First, a picture of my son, and my cat.
For no particular reason.

And now to the topic at hand, one that's near and dear to many of us:
Man there's nothing like starting the day with a good BM.
Today I had two, out on the deck.
Dave was with me, and he had two as well. After 25 years of marriage we often do this type of thing together.
They came out warm and steamy, but quickly cooled in the crisp autumn air.
In between the first and second BM we had coffee.
I honestly thought I was only going to have one BM this morning, but after the coffee I got the urge to have another one.
If Dave had his way he'd have at least 2 BM's every day, but I usually like to have one every couple of days.
And I usually like to have my BM by myself, so I don't have to worry about the look on my face, or the sounds that I make. Silly for me to be shy about it, but I am.

I debated long and hard with myself about whether to post any pictures, but finally decided that those who know me can handle it, and those who stumble on this blog by accident really don't have to come back.
Unless they're quite immature, like me.
Without further two BM's, before I disposed of them and let the squirrels eat the residue.
(Warning - they came out a funny shape and I don't know why.)
Yes, these are my Bran Muffins (BM's).
What did you think I was talking about?
Kathryn : )

Now what's this all about?

Now why is the dew on this plant all around the edges of the leaves? Very pretty - like a beaded edge. But what's it really all about?
Dave says it's the meniscus effect augmented by the boundary phenomenon. I know he just made all that stuff up instead of saying "I don't know".

Why is the spider upside-down? To get a head rush? Is this normal? Do they always do this?

Of all places to sit in the garage, why does Milo choose to sit in the sawdust under the table saw? Why?

Why am I so happy when I see this?

My mind is full of questions this morning.

Kathryn : )

Sunday, August 23, 2009

A trip to Canadian Tire

Howdy all,
Dave and I went to Canadian Tire today. What is Canadian Tire?, you ask.
How can I describe it? Basically, it's a House of Worship for all agnostic Canadians, a just a darned great place to go for all the other Canadians.
It started out as a TIRE store for gosh sakes. Hence the name.
Then.............they diversified!
You start your trip into Canadian Tire (or Crappy Tire, as many people call it, not because the tires are crappy, but because we Canadians have a weird sense of humour and have to put down our Canadian Institutions. It's really a term of endearment. Trust me. Just like we call Tim Horton's "Timmy Ho's", but I'll leave that for another day)

Back to Crappy Tire:
First you go through a shiny chrome turnstile. Whee!
Then, you glide past the credit kiosk, trying not to make eye-contact with the person who tries to get you to sign up for a Canadian Tire credit card. (We already have one, thanks!)

Once past the quagmire of the credit kiosk one is free to wander at will.
In our case Dave immediately took off for the tool section, while I shot off in the other direction toward the housewares, patio furniture, and handy gadgets areas.
I contemplated the coffee makers and crock pots, delighted in the dishes, marvelled at the mugs, prognosticated at the plastic containers, hemmed and hawed at the home decor section, and ruminated over a rack of spices! Picked up item number one: a bag of Masala Spice mix (the recipe on the back looked interesting).

A little later I leaped into the lighting section and ogled the Ott Lights. Anyone who is a stitcher knows what an Ott light is, but for those of you who don't - it's a light with a full spectrum or daylight bulb in it. I stopped to bow in adoration at the version that folds up, but couldn't justify buying it. Ott lite, I'll be back for you someday. Wait for me!

As I left the lighting section I rounded a corner and was nearly mown down by a large man pushing a buggy at breakneck speed. It was my husband!
"Looking for toilet paper", he announced purposefully, and whizzed past me into sections unknown.
I glimpsed two boxed office chairs in the buggy before he disappeared from sight.
After a lot more browsing I realized that I had lost Dave completely, so I whipped out my handy cell phone and called him!

Him: Hello?
Me: It's me! Where are you?
Him: (Tersely) I'm in automotive, waiting for them to put more (effing) tire gauges out.
(Dave is passionate about tire gauges)
Me: Well, I'm happy to browse some more, so just phone me if you can't find me!
Him: OK. They're out of (effing) toilet paper too, those slimy dogs!
Me: Oh dear! They've lured us here under false pretences. TP in the sales flyer, but none on the shelves!
Him: We'll have to get it some other (effing) place.
Me: (In soothing tones) I'm sure we'll find it at Safeway. Why don't you go to your happy place and get yourself a new screwdriver or something?
Him: (Somewhat mollified) Well maybe. I had my mind set on that (effing) TP. Double rolls.
Me: I know. They have no right to treat us this way. I'm going to go and buy a spatula.
Him: OK. Bye.

I wandered to the kitchen ware section and speculated on a spatula. Settled on a nifty number with blue silicon paddle and eco-friendly splintery wooden handle.
Wiggled the wooden spoons and nearly chose a cherry wood one, but left it for another day. After all, a new spatula and a package of Masala spice mix should be enough for anyone, right?

Eventually found Dave getting ready to head for the checkout. Cart full of aforementioned desk chairs, a handcart dolly thing, a few tire gauges (how many do we need? Is he buying them as stocking stuffers?), several packages of paper towels (in lieu of TP?), and a chopping knife.

Quickly seizing the opportunity I grabbed a bag of chili-lime pistachio nuts and a package of Voortman's Almond crunch cookies that were in the impulse section next to the batteries and Bic lighters.

What a haul!
Trundled home, and Dave put away his beloved paper towels in the space left by our decimated TP collection. Must get some TP somewhere! Meanwhile I put together one of the office chairs for my craft room, and am now resting my right arm, which is sore from screwing in the (effing) bolts to hold the thing together.

Hope everyone had as good a day as we did!
Kathryn : )

Friday, August 21, 2009


Oh dear - it's been 10 days.
A brief catch -up then:
Finally got to meet an Internet friend in person. Alberta Ann and her husband Wilford came by for supper on their way to Vancouver Island. I think Dave scared them a little with his overall Dave-ness, but they handled it fairly well! I'll post a picture or 2 at some point.
While they were in our neck of the woods our son was away camping and managed to lose his cell phone in Osoyoos Lake for the second year in a row!
Before trip.......
Me: Don't lose your phone in the lake like you did last year.....
Son: (a tad scornfully) I'm not going to do that again mom!
After trip.....
Me: (Innocently) So you lost your phone in the lake, eh?
Son: (exasperated) The only reason I lost it was because it was in the pocket of my shorts when I jumped in the lake!
Me (I have no response to this stunning logic, and my tongue is now bleeding from biting it)
So...Off we go to the phone store to get him a new phone. He's on my contract, so I get the bill, but he pays me back. All this will change when he's 19 and a legal adult!
Anyhoo, fortunately I have a $150.00 credit towards a new phone.
Unfortunately, he doesn't want any of those cheap phones.
Fortunately he wants to buy a phone just like mine!
Unfortunately I got mine on an extreme promotion ($49.00) and the same phone now costs 400.00 MORE!
Fortunately the girl at the phone store encourages us to call our service provider and HAGGLE!
Unfortunately I'm not so good at haggling, and while I get some discount on the monthly contract I don't get a much discount on the actual phone, just my 150.00 credit, leaving phone still costing $300.00.
Fortunately the girl at the phone store tells me to CALL BACK AGAIN and KEEP HAGGLING!
Unfortunately this whole process takes over an hour and Dave is waiting for me to get to work
Fortunately my son gets on the phone and does a bit of haggling himself and we eventually get another 150.00 off the phone, so son is OK with paying 150.00 himself and we are feeling stoked about the whole affair. (while forgetting that we wouldn't have to be paying anything at all if he hadn't lost another phone in the lake).
Unfortunately son has little money to last until payday, so fortunately mom pays for the phone and then son buys mom a latte to celebrate and all is rainbows and sparkles and dolphins and unicorns and lollipops between mom and son. Son must pay mom back next payday. Mom feels like a dorky pushover, but wants son to have phone so mom can keep track of son. Mom wonders if she is normal, decides she is NOT normal, but doubts she will ever be able to do anything about it.
Son (who has a day off) goes home to play with new phone. Mom goes to work to earn money to pay for roof over son's head, future crises, etc.
More later,
Kathryn : )

Saturday, August 8, 2009

My Favourite Things. Mine.

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
Sapling-like ankles, a husband who’s smitten,
Laundry that’s folded without static clings
These are a few of my favourite things

Cream coloured ponies and crisp apple strudels
Dumbbells and barbells and waistlines like noodles
Low interest mortgages absent of strings
These are a few of my favourite things

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes
Sons who go driving and don’t end in crashes
Daughters who listen to wisdom I bring,
These are a few of my favourite things....

When the frog bites, When my knees sting
When I’m feeling saaaaaad
I simply remember my favourite things
And then I go out
To Dairy Queen and buy myself a blizzard.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Tales from the Bike Shop

Yes, Yes, I'll post the conclusion to "Kath and Dave's Excellent Adventure" later, much later.
But for now, while I'm at work, it's "Tales from the Bike Shop". <---don't click here unless you want to go to a motorcycle website.
(Our web guy says that I have to do some link development for our motorcycle shop; this means plastering a link to our website from all sorts of places including this place.)
Two things happened that struck my funny bone like a hammer on an egg (WHAP!):
1. A customer of ours - I'll call him Bobo - called me up out of the blue, and sounding a bit inebriated, (in the middle of the day!), proceeded to start to tell me a dirty joke. Something about a white man and a black man and body parts etc. I had no chance to even protest that:
a) I'm at work and don't have time for jokes
b) I'm offended that he thinks I want to hear a dirty joke (do I give off vibes or something?)
Anyway, he gets partway through the joke and promptly forgets the punchline.
"I'll have to call you back", he says, briskly, despite the slurring. And hangs up.
I'm sitting there with my mouth open (Seems I am doing this more and more these days).
A few minutes later he calls back, tells the end of the joke, and then says "Don't tell Dave I told you this joke, or he'll kill me!"
I tell him, "I tell Dave everything!"
"OK, goodbye", he says quickly, and hangs up.
I'm laughing, not at the joke, but at the fact that this kind of weird thing happens here. Never in my 20 years at my former job, did I get a dirty joke call from a drunk customer. Ever.
2. A customer comes in and asks if we have any metric nuts.
Dave tells the guy "Maybe my lovely wife can answer that - ha ha".
(Maybe this is why our customers think that I want to hear their dirty jokes)
I politely refrain from comment and wait for the speech....
Whenever customers come in and ask us for small things like nuts, bolts, screws, washers, etc Dave goes into a rant about not having time to look for small things, how much money his time is worth, did the guy bring in a sample with him, how can he look for something without a sample, no you can't go back there and look yourself, etc etc. Then he pronounces "If you want me to go back there and look for some obscure nut/bolt/screw without anything to go by, then it's going to cost (dramatic pause) TEN BUCKS per ITEM!" (Arms waving expansively).
Today, however, when the moon in the 7th house and Jupiter aligned with Mars, when peace shall reign the planets, and LOVE, LOVE will fill the stars............
Dave goes "back there" to look for metric nuts.
Very quickly he returns with exactly what the customer needs.
"How much do I owe you?", asks customer.
"NOTHING!", says Dave, "NO CHARGE!"
"Really?", asks customer, No charge?" (sounds like the guy has just won the lottery)
"NO CHARGE!", yells Dave, "It's Christmas in August!" (Arms waving expansively).
"Wow!", says customer. "This is wonderful!"
(The guy practically glides out, euphoric)
Rainbows and sparkles fill the air, and I am left wondering "Where am I?"
Coming up next: Kathryn takes us on a tour of her craft room!

Saturday, August 1, 2009

While the Kid's away.....

The parents play!

(or.....Kath and Dave's excellent adventure!)
Kath and Dave took a rare Saturday off today to create their very own 3-day weekend. Kath and Dave were very excited and had all sorts of plans to relax, rest, recuperate and get a few things done around the house.

Kath and Dave are a bit burned out from work and the recent heat wave. Kath had been near tears too many times in the past few weeks, and Dave was growing a little tired of the drama. OK, a LOT tired.
Saturday morning came early as Kath got up at 4:15 AM to say goodbye to son-who-is-going-camping. (ed note: Kath can be a pathetic idiot at times).
After son had left for the ferry, Kath decided to stay up and not miss A SINGLE MINUTE of her most excellent upcoming weekend. She checked her e-mail, sipped tea, made delicious apple muffins, and fresh coffee.

Eventually the sun rose, and Dave did too, after a much-needed sleep in. Kath and Dave looked at each other, faces bright and shiny with the promise of the day ahead. They sat at the table, eyes sparkling as they congratulated one another on daring to take a Saturday off in the middle of the busy season. "Some things are just more important than money!", they exclaimed in unison.
Little did they know that things would, eventually, go terribly, horribly wrong.
(mysterious and foreboding music plays faintly in the background).
After breakfast, Kath and Dave got busy with all manner of things both relaxing and productive.
Dave scooped the cat box, Kath loaded the dishwasher. Dave cleaned out a junk drawer, Kath
threw in a load of laundry. Dave puttered industriously, Kath puttered industriously. Things were going well.
At some point, Kath expressed a desire to go to the Organic (she calls it Orgasmic) Grocer to get some wholesome food and vitamins.
"Excellent idea, Kath!", chirped Dave.
"Not as excellent as all of your wonderful ideas!", replied Kath, a loving look on her face.
"You Rock, Kath!" sang Dave.
"Not as much as YOU Rock!" trilled Kath.

(Saccharine filled the air)

Kath and Dave got into their jolly little car and trundled off to the Orgasmic Grocer, pure and wholesome thoughts in mind. They bought a few vitamins and some wonderful ingredients to make their own high-fibre cereal. Not that they're at the age where they need fibre, or anything. They also got a free "Alive" magazine. Not that they're at the age where they like getting free stuff, whether they need it or not.

Here's a photo of some of the wonderfully wholesome things that Kath and Dave bought.

While standing in the check-out line, Kath had a great idea. "Sweetie-poo", she said, "I've heard that red wine can be good for one's blood pressure. What say we continue our quest for good health and wholesome activities by going to the liquor store and getting a nice, healthy, bottle?"

In an amazing coincidence, Kath and Dave BOTH have high blood pressure! Surely the fact that they are together 24 x 7, at home and at work, has nothing to do with it. But I digress.

"Excellent idea, Kath!", chirped Dave. "You ROCK!", he sang.
"Not as much as YOU Rock!", she trilled lovingly.

They hopped, again, into their jolly HOT little car, and drove across the street to the liquor store.
Little did they know that the activities of the next few moments would set in motion a downward spiral of greed, gluttony, malice, betrayal, and treachery!

(more of that music in the background. Now a bit louder)

Still innocent of the forces at work against them they entered the liquor store, where they were at once teased and caressed by the air conditioning.

"Oh, oh, oh!", they moaned, like Harry meeting Sally.

The other shoppers quickly backed away.

In their excited state, Kath and Dave picked up not only a delightful bottle of red wine, but a few other things. Obviously the air conditioning was too much for them.

Much of it was healthy - made from grapes, tomatoes, clams, mint, and....well.....distilled grain.
They emerged from the liquor store, delighted with their purchases, and flung them happily into the car.

"Say", said Dave, looking back toward the Orgasmic Grocer across the street. "Is that a BAKERY over there?"
"It sure is!", answered Kath, secretly delighting in her youthful husband's excellent eyesight.
"Hey, Sugar-Pea", said Dave. "What say we go over there and see if they have any wonderful pastries?

"Excellent idea, Dave! You ROCK!", said Kath
"Hurry up and get in the car, wench!, he said manfully.

Kath did as she was told. She loved it when he was forceful like that.

They drove back across the street toward the Orgasmic Grocer and walked into the bakery next door. "Just ONE wee pastry each?", they asked each other.
"Yes, just ONE EACH!", they agreed, and looked at the pastries.
The pastries looked back, and called to them, like sirens at sea, calling out, "Hey, Sailor!".
Time passed. 'Eternity in an hour', as Blake wrote.
Kath and Dave bought THREE pastries each. (They are now fluent in pastry patois)

The day was going so well that Kath and Dave decided to stop in at Safeway and buy an onion.
"Just an onion, fuzzy bear!" Kath called out lovingly as she stayed behind in the car to keep the windows rolled down for the sake of the pastries.
"Right ON, sugar cube!" sang Dave as he skipped gaily into the store......and had his second encounter that day, with AIR CONDITIONING.

It was an encounter that would change their lives.

Back at the car, Kath sang a little song to keep the pastries company.
"You make me feel like a natural WOMAN!", she brayed, to the mind-numbing horror of some innocent passers-by.
"Don't stare, dear", a mother admonished her child. "The poor devil was born that way, and can't help it."

Kath sang on, oblivious, her hips gyrating to the music as best they could while still seat-belted on to the hot, sticky seats. "Everybody have fun tonight! Everybody Wang-Chung tonight!"
"Squeak, squeak, squeak!", complained the seat.
Kath noticed that she could make different musical notes with the seat, by rubbing her sweaty legs across it in varying speeds. Quickly she improvised, by ear (or leg?) Beethoven's "Ode to Joy" (just like at our wedding, she remembered mistily)
She soon moved on to more difficult pieces, like the theme to "Bonanza". By the time she mastered "Flight of the Bumblebee" the seat was SMOKIN'! (and a crowd had gathered)

So she returned to singing......a medley of humpback whale tunes, in the hopes that dear Dave would hear her calling.....

The crowd dispersed. Rapidly.

Meanwhile, inside the store, Dave had just finished choosing a delicious red onion, when the strains of Kath's dulcimer voice reached him. As she whooped out a chorus of Broadway show tunes and segued into the Wim-a-way song (In the jungle the mighty jungle.....) he was struck so full of love for that durned spunky little woman, that he made a few extra purchases.

After going through the check-out ("Someone's a lucky girl!", exclaimed the check-out woman) Dave hopped like a bunny out to the car.

He opened the door, and held out, with a flourish, some gifts for his dyn-o-mite lady.
Roses and lottery tickets!

"Here ya go, little prune whip", he chuckled manfully.
"Oooooh", she squealed, delight squirting from every pore.
"Ah jest loves a gamblin' man", she crooned.

Kath and Dave took their purchases home in their jolly little sweltering car.
"My armpits are glued shut", thought Kath, as she stared lustily at the lottery tickets.


Wednesday, July 22, 2009

Time for a change

Yep, you are (still) here!
I've changed the header photo.

Time for a bit more orange in my life, and a little less blue.
A bit more sherbet, and a little less poo.

A dish of ice-cream, a bowl of sauce,
some cleaner sneakers, a new lip gloss.

A tidy desk , a cleaner car,
a day perverse
and a night bizarre.

A frozen meatball, a jar of jam,
a life-sized toy-boy
carved from spam.

a new bird feeder, a guest
some afternoon tea,
or a Kafee Klatsch!

(did I spell that right?)

a breast augmentation,
some fat reduction,
a tummy tuck
after liposuction!

an enzyme peel, a bikini wax
an accountant's help
with my income tax.

a turkey wattle, a chicken gizzard,
some hot mcnuggets,
and a DQ blizzard

a step machine
to work my thighs
to heck with that,
a side of fries

Just had to end this with a rhyme
so here I go for one last time

Ok, that is enough I guess.
Can you tell there's nothing on TV tonight?
(and I'm a mess...)

Monday, July 20, 2009

Why I am going crazy

Several reasons for why I'm going crazy. Not all I can share in detail, but some I can.

(This is a flower from a pot on my deck. I think the flowers are trying to communicate with me. This one screams "Good morning!", doesn't it?)

1. There is cat vomit on my carpet. A new batch every day, it seems. One blob, in particular, looks a little like Elvis! Not sure whether to clean this one up or sell it on Ebay.

(This flower looks like Lucille Ball. "Ricky, Ricky!", she's calling....)

2. My son called me at home, from his cell phone, to ask when supper would be ready.
The punchline? He was calling from his bedroom. It took me a full minute to understand that he was, in fact, phoning me from inside my own house. (Kind of like those atrocious horror movies from the 80's where the babysitter finally figures out that the killer is ALREADY INSIDE THE HOUSE!)
Once the light bulb went on in my addled brain, and my mouth stopped flapping silently like a fish out of water, I was able to suggest that perhaps he could walk to the kitchen and ask me in person next time. If it wouldn't be too much trouble.

(These guys ar walking towards me, like zombies! See their little legs?

3. A customer at work phoned me, and reamed me out, because I did not read his mind.

Really! This led to another episode of me staring at the phone trying to comprehend what was happening, and spending a few seconds doing the fish-mouth thing again.
Much later, after a blunt phone call back from my dear husband to aforementioned customer, and then an apologetic phone call from customer to me, I have developed a slight uneasiness around the phone. Trouble is - I have to answer the darned thing about 200 times per day.

Who will it be? Will they be mad at me? Will they want supper? Are they already in the building?

(This one looks like a pink elephant. See his ears? His trunk?
Apparently he's just gotten out of the shower.)

4. The nasturtiums are taking over the world!

(I think they ate the cat)
I need a vacation.