Rowan-ish-ness

Rowan.
Reluam (Pronounced 'Ra-loom' for some unknown reason).
Ra-loom-a-loo.
Ra-loomy.
Rowan the Dragon Mauler ('Reluam' is 'Mauler' backwards.  Don't ask.)

Rowan is lovely.  He came to visit the night before Connor's birthday 3 weeks ago and decided to stay. He needed a soft place to land.  We had an extra room.  Makes perfect sense, no?

Rowan is one of Connor's best friends.  He's a remarkable young man; President of the Youth Society, Honour Roll, Student Council, Saxophone Player (piano too) and is just really, really sweet.  He fits right in with us and already in this short amount of time, I can't imagine our family without him.  He thinks he may want to be a lawyer.  I think there's no doubt that he'll achieve whatever he puts his mind to.

Gigi now has yet another brother/quasi-brother (Connor, Jack, Bryce, Adam and now Rowan) and I really think she doesn't have a chance at dating until her mid 20's.  I now have someone who can reach for the r-e-a-l-l-y high things in the cupboards.  Connor and Jack have a built in xbox playing, D&D geeking, homework-doing brother/friend. 

We love our Ra-loom and we're so happy to have him here with us.  He's a bonus to our family and we're better because he's in it.

   Rowan looking dapper and happy.

Rowan and Gigi looking fierce.

Randy 'n Rowan

So y'all have met my friend Randy; he was here for Thanksgiving being a pain in the ass, as per usual. (See Randy?  THIS is how I get the last word in.  Mwah ha ha ha ha!)  This past weekend, Randy decided to come for a visit again... I decided to let him because he was bringing his beautiful, feisty, wonderful daughter, Grace. 

The last time Randy stayed at Shangri-la, he slept in the spare room on an antique bed left here by my sister and her hubby.  Now, I know that 'antique bed' sounds very quaint and refined but apparently that isn't exactly the case.  When Randy found out that Rowan (my new quasi-son....I'll get to that in a minute) was sleeping on the antique bed, he was horrified.  He went on to describe in cringe-worthy detail just how uncomfortable it is to sleep on a bed that has springs poking through the mattress.  He also pointed out that Rowan is 6'4" and it's a double bed which isn't exactly long enough for our Rowan.  I asked Randy if he could pick up a foamy and bring it from Kelowna to make the bed a bit more comfortable.  He completed disregarded my request, being the Ding-Ding that he is. 

He ignored my request by bringing a new Queen-sized bed.  The frame.  The box spring.  The mattress.  Pillows.  Two sets of bedding.  A special Buzz Light Year pillow from Grace.  He also brought clothes (bags of clothes) and a barbeque for me.  Overwhelming.  Really. 

Randy saw a need and simply wanted to help.  His generosity left me speechless which as most of you know is NOT an easy task.  Rowan asked me why Randy, a complete stranger to him, would do something like this.  I told him "Randy wants to make a difference and he believes in your potential."  Then I think I might have smiled and said something like "Don't fuck it up" but I don't remember for sure. :)

I've known Randy for just over a year and he's become one of my best friends which is an elite category when you consider that people like my Barbs and my Seeso currently live there.  I know I say it often but I'm really incredibly lucky to have such amazing friends and family.  I'm not sure I'm worthy of them but I try my best to be.

Randy and Grace. 

Grace is now 14 and a young woman but is every bit as beautiful as she was in this photo.

Ok, ok, ok! I couldn't wait.

Here is the Night Time/Day Time bit I was talking about in my previous post! (If you haven't read it yet, please do so now before watching the video.  Yeah, I'm serious.)

Ok, now that you've read my previous post, you can watch this.  Try to imagine me on an airplane looking out one window ("Night time!") then the other window ("Day time!!")

The video is literally 17 seconds long so just do it!  I promise you'll laugh.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=THrpJSstWZ8

(Two posts in ONE month and it's only November 3rd, Barb.... )

Yup. That's it....

I've always emphatically stated that my favourite colour is yellow.  For the most part it is but tonight I saw another colour that rivals it closely.  I don't have a specific name for this colour so I'll just call it "when-the-sun-sets-and-you're-above-the-clouds-watching-it" colour.  Yeahhhh.  Also known as 'orange'.  Please see the photo below as an illustration:

I guess there is actually some yellow-ish-ness in it, no?  And while this photo is lovely (thank you google photos), the actual sunset was much more beautiful.  Tonight, watching sun set above the clouds as I flew to Victoria was pretty amazing.  I was also able to look out one window and see night time and the other window and see day time (Night time.... day time.  Night time... daytime.  My friend Shori is laughing her ASS off right now reading this.  I'll add a link that will explain why this is so freakin' funny in my next post).

ANYhoo.... the concierge will be calling at 7am with my wake up call (.... "would you like another call again 10 minutes later, Ms. Barth.... just in case?"  "Why yes.  Yes I would, Mr. Concierge.") so I'd best get some sleep in my Delta-like bliss.

G'night all. :)

Thankful

I love Thanksgiving.  Love it.  Love it.  Love it.

I think you're getting the picture, no?  I'm not sure what it is.... perhaps the time of year and leaves changing colour.  Or maybe it's the fact that it's a holiday that involves food, family, friends, laughter and relaxation without the insanity and stress of things that often accompany certain holidays, say like Christmas. 

I'm always excited for this particular long weekend but Thanksgiving this year was one of the best I've had in a very long time.  The Brats were all with me at Shangri-la and my good friend Randy came from Kelowna to spend it with us.  We just hung out, played poker and a board game called 'Sequence', laughed and drank the wine and port that Randy brought.  (No, the kids didn't drink the boozes.  Sheesh; shame on y'all who thought that.)

I felt.... well, thankful.  Cheezy, I know but I really did.  I have much to be thankful for.  I live in a beautiful place and I have a great job with amazing colleagues.  I have the best damn friends anyone could ever have.  I was raised in a loving home with incredible siblings who I'm still very close to.  I have incredible kids who adore me for some unkown reason.  Is it perfect?  Not by a long shot but the shit stuff (trying to swear less, potty mouth that I am) I have to deal with is pretty minor when you look at the big picture.  Plus, I have great people in my life who help me wade through the stuff shit. (Sorry; I like swearing way too much).

So, Thanksgiving.  I think maybe I just really like having a day once a year when I have the luxury of taking a moment to remember all the things that are great about my life.  Plus, I really love stuffing. :)

(Randy and the 'Brats du la Brats a la Brats' eating Thanksgiving dinner)

Nemesis

Before I start telling you about my nemesis, I must apologize for missing September on my blog. My new lofty goal was to blog at least once a month.  I failed.  Already. *sigh*

Onwards.... to the little fucker I hate.  Anyone who lives where I live will know what I'm talking about.  My friends from afar won't have a clue.  I'm talking about the Western Conifer Seed Bug (Leptoglossus occidentalis) a.k.a. 'the stink bug' (thanks for the official name, Tammy O!).  I hate them.  H A T E.  As a rule, I don't hate.  I'm not a hater by nature.  Stink bugs?  I hate.

Looks harmless?  I'm sure it does.... but it's evil.  They dive bomb you.  They like hair.  If you try to catch them, they release a smell (something like rotten bananas).  I woke up in the middle of the night last week to one crawling up my back, underneath my shirt.  Insta-awake.  Jumping around the bedroom, crazy hair, wild eyes.  Turning the light on, trying to get it out from under my shirt only to suddenly smell THE SMELL.  A-a-a-r-r-r-g-g-g-h-h-h-h.  Yeah.  Try to get back to sleep after waking up to that at 3:00am.

Now y'all might be thinking I'm a wimp at this point, however there are a lot of them.  Jack capture some in a jar tonight; it took him about 20 minutes to catch them and he caught about 30 of them.  Inside the house.  Here's what I've come to understand this week....

(Jar O' Stink Bugs)

Stink Bugs turn Suze into

(New fridge Magnet courtesy of my dear friend Sue)

I actually caught myself looking forward to snow so that it would end the stink bug reign in my house.  I didn't think there was anything I hated more than snow....

* This blog dedicated to cute little Margie Simpson who thought Barb and I were joking about the existence of stink bugs.  Careful checking your mail in the next week, Mah... I have a jar with your name on it.  Mwah ha ha ha ha.

The Adventures of Horatio L. Cheeky

Horatio L. Cheeky

Readers, meet Horatio.  Horatio and I have had a love/hate relationship going ever since I moved into Shangri-La.  There are many squirrels that live in the woods near my home but Horatio?  Well, he's 'special'.  Horatio is an alpha male who thinks he owns at least 17 square miles surrounding my house.  For some reason he does not fear me. 

Each morning I sit out on the deck to enjoy the view of the lake and the mountains with my coffee.  I love the solitude.  Horatio views this as an overtly hostile maneuver on my part.  Usually he perches as close as he can on the tree nearest to where I'm sitting and chirps at me like a machine gun.  I give him my best withering 'Susan' stare to no avail.  Eventually, I jump towards him and yell and he reluctantly leaves.  The other day he upped the ante and climbed high in the tree and began throwing pine cones at me.  No, I'm not making this up.  He really did. 

So, here's where the story gets really good.  Every morning I open up both my front door and the patio door  to let the morning breeze flow through the house.  It's wonderful.  Last week the real estate agent called to say that she planned to show the house later that day and I wanted to do a quick vaccuum before leaving for work.  I opened the doors then went downstairs to get the vaccuum cleaner.  As I walked upstairs, vaccuum cleaner in hand, what do I see?  Horatio.  In the middle of my kitchen floor.  I glared.  He looked at me with a glance that said "Ah.... you're in my house, Bitch."  I put down the vaccuum cleaner and walked towards him.  Nothing.  He actually looked away from me as if he was bored. 

I knew that escorting Horatio out of the house was going to take a bit of time and I pondered the situation because I really didn't want to be late for work.  Would the prospective buyers prefer a perfectly clean floor or a house without a squirrel in it?  I decided that a squirrel-less house would likely be best.  So-o-o-o-o out came the broom (yes, the same broom that I used to chase Percy with last year) and Horatio and I went to war.  Fifteen minutes later he was out on the deck and the doors were closed up tightly.  

I even made it to work on time.

(When I told my friend Mike about my cheeky friend, he decided to name him Horatio.  The 'L' stands for Leonidas.  Of course it does.)

Oh, so pretty!!!

Did I mention that Sue-of-the-fabulous-cheese is also a graphic artist?  I asked her if she would spice my blog up a bit and she did.  Ta-da!!!  I wrestled with it on my own for about an hour and wasn't happy with the results so I asked her if she would take a peek at it.  Four minutes and 27 seconds later she had it finished and I love it. 

My favourite colour is yellow.  Sunshine makes me happy so that's the only explanation I have, really.  I love the yellow-ish-ness of it!!!  It's also kind of bubbly and exuberant.... like me, no? 

Mike asked her "Are you doing pro bono work again?!!".  I replied "Hey!  I don't let people bring me amazing cheese without a cost, you know.  Sheesh."

Such a diva, I am.

*Gasp*

Yes.
*Gasp*
That is the sound you will here if you are near any of my followers when they open my blog to see that I've actually posted.  I seem to go in spurts.... and once again, I forgot my login user name and password which is a CLEAR indicator that it's been w-a-y too long since I've posted.  Thank you for not giving up on me!  It's been  3 months since my last post (I had to put it in tiny letters because of the shame I feel) and once again, so much has happened during that time. 

Some of the Blind Bay Bitches came to visit me here at Shangri-La and it was fantastic.  MyBarb, Claudette, Aleia, Tamara and Sandy showed up with enough food to supply us until 2012, booze (of course) and pajamas.  It was so wonderful to have them here; they have all welcomed me with open arms into their world and it delighted me to reciprocate that hospitality.  It was a fabulous weekend of laughter and relaxation and I have no doubt it will become an annual event.

My Beloved Seeso organized the Second Annual Halcyon Hotsprings Girl Weekend and I met some great women from Nelson.  Is it possible to have too many girlfriends?  I think not.  Again... food, booze, pajamas and laughter.  So good for the soul. 

Are we seeing a theme here, people?  I do love my girlie-friends.  Ah do.  Another hint; Sue and Mike are here pampering me and I have blogged TWICE in the past 12 hours.  Pampering Suze = Blog Posts.  Uh huh.  Think about that next time you complain about my lack o' posts, haters!

Nirvana. No lie.

I've blogged about my friends, Mike and Sue before.  I met them through my brother Darryl and they've become good friends of mine as well.  I blogged about them when they came for a brief visit last year and this year they decided to come for a longer visit.  I'm in heaven.  Holy cats.

Mike and Sue are two of the most generous people I know.  They arrived with gifts for the kids.  Thoughtful gifts that really indicated that they knew my children and really understood them.  Valued them.  Celebrated them.  They brought me a book (yay books!) and..... cheese.  Cheese.  Cheese-zilla.  Not no-name cheddar.  Oh, no.  Cheese from Quebec.  From France.  From Spain.  Triple cream cheese.  Goat brie.  Blue cheese.  Now here's the interesting part; Sue doesn't eat cheese but she knows how to buy it and how to pair it properly with wine and port.  It's entirely possible that my two favourite things on this planet are cheese and books.  Did I mention how much I love Mike and Sue?

Yesterday I came home from work to Sue in my kitchen cooking a beef tenderloin with a pinot noir sauce.  Oh. My. God.  Mashed baby potatoes and a butter lettuce salad.  Mike has been painting; he's a talented artist and has been sharing his gift with Gigi.  The two of them are very funny together and have a great banter that has kept us all entertained.

Today?  Good music.  Good food.  Great company.  Relaxation.  Being around Mike and Sue reminds me that art and literature and music are a big part of who I am.  Their company feeds that part of me and it feels really, really good.

Below is a picture from their first night here; port and blue cheese.  Heaven.  I could get used to this.... Frippeneno, I could get used to this!!!

Sheesh

come·up·pance (kmpns)
n.
A punishment or retribution that one deserves

So I'm in Blind Bay for the weekend, visiting Barb.  We have a weekend of relaxation, movies, popcorn and general sloth-ish-ness planned.  We watch 'PS, I love you'.  Everyone I know who has seen this movie assured me that I would sob like a baby when I watched it.  I didn't.  Didn't even shed ONE tear.  Further evidence that I possess a cold little black heart. 

After the movie we decide to have a dip in Barb's new hot tub... the hot tub where I was entertained by Barb and her raccoons.  Lucky for me, there were no raccoons tonight.... there was, however... a noise.  A big noise.  Crashing in the forest.  The sound of something perhaps climbing a tree and breaking huge branches on it's way up.  Something that sounded easily as big as a bear. 

I screamed.  Barb laughed.  More crashing.  More screaming... more of Barb laughing.  I did what any sane person would do.  I stood up in the hot tub, shook my fist in the general direction of the forest-crashing and yelled "The power of Christ compels you!!!!"  At this point, Barb is howling... she can barely breathe, she is laughing so hard.  Ugly-face laughing.

Yeah.... I totally deserved that, didn't I?
Sheesh.

Hot Tub Trauma

I simply have to share this with y'all.

Last night I was on the phone with myBarb.  She was in her hot tub and was taking great pleasure in pointing out the fact that SHE was in a hot tub and I was decidedly NOT in a hot tub.  Lucky for me, karma is alive and well and nailed her right between the eyes.

We were chatting away happily when suddenly she starts completely freaking out.  Screaming and going bananas.  B-A-N-A-N-A-S.  There are two raccoons in a tree about 20 feet away from her and they are staring at her.  "What should I do?  WHAT SHOULD I DO???" she screams in my ear.  I, of course, am laughing so hard that I literally can't respond.  "Stop laughing at me!!!  What should I do?!!!" she howls.  Now, you need to understand.  The racoons are 20 feet from her.  The sliding glass doors to her house are about 5 feet from the hot tub.  I can't stop laughing.  She's making them out to be blood thirsty demons with fangs when they are, in reality, 2 very cute racoons who are very likely rendered immobile out of fear from her screams.

Once the ruckus died down and she was safely ensconced in her home, she asked me where I thought they would go.  I told her that they likely had a lovely nest built somewhere very nearby to which she replied 'Fuck off!'.  Being the good friend that I am, I thought I should research this a bit for her.  Her's what I came up with;

"Raccoons tend to be solitary. In populated areas, raccoons often choose to make homes in chimney flues and attics. They seem to be the perennial, nightly raider of the suburban garbage can. Mating season for the raccoon is at its peak in February and March."

From this information I can assume the following.

• The nest they are building is likely in her attic
• It's March, so these creatures that are usually solitary must be mating since there was a pair of them
• Soon Barb will have a wee family of them living in her attic

Now, to her credit, Barb has come a long way.  When she first moved from Calgary to Blind Bay, simply seeing a moth in the house evoked this exact reaction in her.  No I'm not kidding.  Not exaggerating even slightly.  Give her another 5 or 6 years and I have no doubt she'll be an intrepid mountain woman, killing cougars with her bare hands. 

Barb, you are a never-ending source of entertainment for me.  Love you!!!
(In the midst of her screams last night, the one sentence that I did manage to get out while laughing was "I am SO gonna blog this!!!)

Re-set

So.
The past 2 weeks have been pretty rough.  I was already feeling burned out in general... then was hit with a bit of a doozy.  I was kind of hanging by a thread and was really, really, really looking forward to a conference in Vancouver paired with a bit of vacation.  Originally I planned to go solo, but at the last minute it worked out that my Brats came with me.  Here are some of the highlights thus far:

• Jack and Gigi on their first flight; so cute.
• A visit with my friend Randy in Kelowna
• Time with my Beloved Aunt and Uncle, Emil and Sheila
• West Vancouver; 'nuff said
• A walk on the beach with my Brats
• A Conference that is turning out to be excellent

Now, I know that money can't buy happiness, it really can't and I KNOW that, but.  Yeah, but.  When I arrived to check in at the hotel where my conference is being held, I was asked if I wanted to upgrade my room.  An extra $30/night that includes internet (a $15 cost/day regardless), breakfast, evening appetizers in the Concierge Lounge and a view of the harbour.  Did I hesitate?  Even for a moment?  No way in hell.  "Yes, please" is what I said, as fast as I could. 

I went up to my room and almost started to cry.  A King-sized bed, and a curved wall of windows overlooking the harbour, the entire length of the room. (See photo above!)  I quickly changed into walking clothes and found out where the nearest liquor store was in order to secure a bottle of port.  Last night I sat cross-legged on my king-sized bed with a glass of port in my hand, watching the lights of the ships in the harbour.  I was grateful; I did not take this moment for granted for even a second.

Special room: $90 extra for 3 nights
Lovely port: $29.00
Feeling like my 're-set' button has been pressed?  Priceless

When they learned that I wouldn't be coming to Vancouver alone, Emil and Sheila agreed without hesitation to take the Darling Brats for me while at the conference.  Emil and Sheila have plenty of their own shit to deal with right now, but in spite of that (and SUPER-in-spite-of-that, Sheila is a grade 4 teacher and was no doubt looking forward to a peaceful Spring Break...) they graciously welcomed us into their home and even appeared genuinely excited to have my children full-on for 3 nights while I basked in Marriott-like bliss.  This is family. This is love.

I write this as I sip a glass of Merlot in the Concierge Lounge; the sun is setting and the lights of West Vancouver are beautiful just across the harbour.  (I can hear Emil at this point saying "Ok, ok.... now you're just rubbing it in!") I went for a long walk along the seawall on my lunch hour and did the same this evening after my last session.  I can't help but wonder if it's the "re-set button" effect that has me taking care of myself or the fact that I've pampered myself a bit and feel worthy of it.  I pondered this for quite some time during my walks today.

I feel ready to take on the world again.  Before I left for Vancouver when I was at an especially low and fragile (and quasi chin-quivering) point, my friend whose name rhymes with 'Barb Vincent' gave me a virtual smack upside the head and said to me "Smarten up!!!  You're stronger than this!"

Turns out she was right.

Yay Vino!!!

I love wine.  Lerve it.  Luff it.  M-m-m-m-m-m......

It may have something to do with the French blood that flows in me, thanks to my Mom.  For me, drinking wine has always been synonymous with laughter and female bonding. When I was young, I remember watching my Mom and her sisters visit in our livingroom while drinking wine.  There were six of them and they were a vivacious group free spirited French gals.  My grandmother (their Mom) definitely laid the groundwork for that dynamic.

I'm currently working with some folks on a project where I live to establish whether or not this region is conducive to growing grapes for winemaking.  I'm really excited about the project and the potential for it happening where I live.  I've met some great people and through those connections was invited to be a judge in a wine competition in a community close to where I live this weekend.  Free wine drinking, you say?  Count me in!  It's the first time I was able to drink wine before noon and not feel guilty about it although having to only taste and spit out the wine felt a bit like a crime against the universe.

Being a wine tasting judge was a riot.  Seriously!  I may have actually coined a few new wine-tasting terms such as 'floaty bits' and 'yummy'.  The wine was all home made and some of it was very good.  Afterwards there was a potluck dinner and about 60 people from the village came out for it.  There was something really magical about it.... the palpable sense of community in the room was incredible and I felt truly honoured to be there. 

There was a band playing made up of local people and it really added to the sense of community spirit.  My girlfriend Cindy told me earlier in the week that her husband was going to part of the entertainment that evening.  I told her that when she used the term 'entertainment' I was picturing Murray in assless chaps, however he actually wore jeans and was the drummer in the band. 

I've been a bit of a hermit lately; cocooning in my home and loving it.... but last night reminded me how important it is to connect with people and the value of living in a small community.  Tonight I look forward to sipping a glass of red that I'm actually allowed to swallow!

Fridge Magnets

Ok y'all.
I just have to share something funny with you.

I briefly mentioned in an earlier post that I had a suitor who didn't like my fridge magnets so I politely sent him packing.  Seriously.  It sounds like a small thing but my fridge magnets really represent a big part of my sense of humour.  Appropriate?  Not so much but neither am I.

Mybarb and I were yapping on the phone the other night and she was updating my pathetic "don't-have-television" ass on what was happening on The Bachelor.  Apparently it's down to 4 women and one of them withdrew from the show because she didn't want to give up her job for this man.  I expressed indignation that she wouldn't quit her job for a man who showed such potential to which Barb replied "This from the woman who won't even take her fucking fridge magnets down!"

Touche, my good friend.

Now while I understand what she's getting at with this cheeky comment, I just have to say that humour is so very important to me and I'll defend that position with my last breath!  (Ok, somewhat dramatic but you get what I'm saying....).  I think you need to see my fridge magnets, dear internet, in order to fully understand what I'm trying to explain here.  People either clearly think they're funny.... or really, really don't.  So, for your entertainment and viewing pleasure, I present 'Susan's quasi-obscene fridge magnets'. 

I'm guessing that you've figured out by now that I love all things 'retro'.  If I won the lottery I think I'd buy the Brady Bunch house.  I'm not kidding.  I have a couple of other gems (non-magnet variety) that are absolutely hilarious and have a total retro, kitschy feel to them.  I'll do another post soon telling you all about that. 

 Please; if you happen to see a fridge magnet with the same theme as those shown above, send it to me!!!  There just might be a jar of homemade antipasto in it for you.....

See, Dear Readers?

Well?  Did y'all notice? (My American friend is no doubt laughing at the increase in my "y'all" usuage).  Check out the new math....

Increased Comments + No Spam = Tons O' Bloggin'

I may even break a record in February for the most blogs/month on Suzeville.  And February is a really short month!!!  Can you tell I'm a little bit bored?  I have ramble-itis.  If I do say so myself, it's kinda cute when I do it.  All the girls from work are collectively rolling their eyes in this moment because they are SICK TO DEATH of me saying that phrase.

Sample:

Shori/Margaret/Tana/Darcy:  "Susan, did you forget to submit your stats this month?"
Susan:  "Why yes.  Yes, I did.  But it's cute when I do it."

You get the gist. :)  Cute, no?

.... and another thing....

Let me make myself perfectly clear, people.  I do not have another packrat.  Ted and I did not catch a whiff o' packrat smell when we came in the house yesterday and I certainly did not just hear packratty noises in the ceiling a moment ago.  Just wanted to share that with y'all.

Ok?  Are we clear on that?  Just checking.
*sigh*

Sauce du la Sauce a la Bang Bang

So my Beloved Seeso and her hubby just moved into a new house and needed the couch back that I was borrowing from them.  The nerve.

I put out a plea on Facebook:
"Does anyone have a sofa they want to sell? My sister has the nerve to want hers back. Sheesh. :)"

Here were the responses:
Kevin Dereniwsky: What happened to the nice one I gave you?
(Yeah.... 7 years ago!!)

Claudette Tower Dowler: You better find something soon, or I'll be sleeping with you and Barb at our weekend to the Sharngri-la... and I like to sleep in the nude :)
(The Blind Bay Bitches are coming for a weekend here at Shangri-la in March.  Batten down the hatches.)

And then?  I heard angels singing.....

Ron Scott: We are selling our couch and love seat that you love so much. If you're still interested 250.00 for the pair.
(Ron and I worked as paramedics together.  Yay Ron!!)

So, all I had to do was pick them up at Ron's place.  Easy, right?  Yeah.... right.  I asked my friend Ted to help me.  He has a truck and just LOVES it when I ask him to take care of the 'blue jobs' at my house.  Ted is also known as: Saucy-sauce, Saucey Bang-Bang, Ticka-ticka or Teddy.  You know that person who you can call on pretty much anytime you need something, no matter what?  Help moving, leaky faucet, $50 bucks, bail money at 2:00am (haven't needed that yet....), Ted is one of those guys who is always there.

Teddy is pretty much the male version of me and is like a brother.  We laugh our heads off.  We can talk about almost anything and usually do on a fairly regular basis over a bottle of wine.  He's been such a good friend to me and I feel pretty lucky to know him.  He's a free spirit and insists on living life on his own terms no matter what anyone thinks.  I admire that in him.

The moving of the couches ended up being far more complicated than I could have ever imagined.  Ted dug in and worked hard until the job was done for the paltry pay of a shared bottle of red and some Hawaiian pizza.  Thanks, Teddy.  You da bomb!

(Teddy on the deck last summer giving me his infamous model pose.)

Grrrr....

Sorry folks.

You know how on certain websites you have to type in a combination of letters and numbers in order to proceed and how they often look like arabic and you get all sorts of frustrated because that-fucking-3-looks-like-an-E-and-how-am-I-supposed-to-know-what-it-says??!!!

That process is to block spam and I've been getting all kinds of spam submitted in the form of comments on da blog.  It pisses me off.  No, I don't need to know how to make my penis larger, thank you very much.  I don't actually have a penis and if I did, I certainly wouldn't want to learn about making it bigger on here.  Sheesh.

The worst part?  I get SO excited when someone leaves a comment on a post that I've written.  I know that makes me shallow and juvenille, but I don't care.  So... when I receive the notification email telling me that someone has left a comment on a post that I've done I get all bouncy and excited only to find out that it's some asshole that is asking me if I want to learn a secret on how to please my partner in bed.  Yeah.  I don't have a current sexual partner, THANK YOU VERY MUCH.

So I apologize, dear readers.  You will have to endure the arabic gauntlet to now leave me a comment.  Please don't let that deter you, because as most of you know, I'm a rather exuberant gal who enjoys getting all bouncy and excited.  I really do love your comments so please continue to leave them.  No, actually.  Leave more!!!  Your comments inspire me to be more prolific. Yeah.  That's it.  So to my Blind Bay Bitches (who complain loudly that I don't post often enough....), I'll start posting more often once y'all start leaving me comments!!!  So there. :)

Sex and the City

I love this show. I love Carrie Bradshaw. I LOVE Big. I love shoes. I have never been to New York but I love New York. I love my girlfriends. And you know what? After being a cynic for most of my adult life, I think that I'm actually starting to love the idea of love. Romantic love.

My favourite episode of SATC is when Carrie goes to Paris (I originally said 'Russia' but a kind reader corrected me to remind me that it was actually Paris... thank you, kind anonymous reader!) to be with Aleksandr Petrovsky. (*sigh* My biggest high school crush EVER was on Mikhail Barynshykov. Seriously. I digress.) I have two favourite scenes from that episode.

The first is when Carrie comes back unexpectedly from Paris and goes to the place where she has Saturday morning breakfast on a regular basis with Samantha, Charlotte and Miranda. The girls aren't expecting her and when she taps on the window to capture their attention, they go crazy when they see her. Bat-shit crazy. I have seen my girlfriends do that. It's incredible. The other scene from that episode that captures my heart is when Carrie is on the floor of the hotel hallway, heartbroken and just simply 'done'. She crying and defeated when she looks up and sees 'Big'. There is a look that she has on her face; it's a look that's reserved for him and him alone.

That melts my heart.

Ok. Now for some fun. A few great SATC quotes to make you smile!

Carrie: I am someone who is looking for love. Real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love.

Carrie: Maybe the past is like an anchor holding us back. Maybe, you have to let go of who you were to become who you will be.

Carrie: Maybe some women aren't meant to be tamed. Maybe they need to run free until they find someone just as wild to run with.

Carrie: Somewhere out there is another little freak who will love us and understand us and kiss our three heads and make it all better.

Samantha: [to the girls] I think I have monogamy. I caught it from you people.
Carrie: Now it's airborne.

Miranda: [on finding out she is pregnant] WHY didn't I use a condom?
Carrie: You didn't use a condom?
Miranda: He has one ball, and I have a lazy ovary! In what twisted world does that create a baby? It's like the Special Olympics of conception!

Carrie: Man may have discovered fire, but women discovered how to play with it.

Stanford: I can only stay a few minutes. I got tickets to the Vagina Monologues.
Carrie: Why?
Stanford: Just because I don't eat at the restaurant doesn't mean I can't hear the specials.

Eloquence

I have tried and tried to come up with the words to explain the past 2 years of my life. I've come close; I've written pages and spent hours in my own head coming up with just the right way to explain it. I received a quote from a friend today and when I read it, I felt like I'd been hit over the head with a baseball bat.

"...and the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom..."

~Anais Nin~

Shazam. Thank you Anais Nin... and thank you, my friend for sharing this quote with me.

Blogging In Real Time

The Blind Bay Bitches (BBB's).

Barb (of course), Holly, Claudette, Diane, Tamara, Aleia, Steph and Monica. A surprise party.

I thought that Barb and I were going to have an innocent night of movies and cream cheese in our pajamas. I had the pajama part right. Barb and I went into town to pick up a few supplies and to watch Jacob's hockey game. She decided we needed ice. And kahlua. And appetizers. Did I clue in that there might be a party in the works? N-o-o-o-o-o. We arrived home to vehicles everywhere.

It was a suprise pajama party planned by the BBB's (Claudette and Barb especially). Of course this was the first time EVER that I forgot to bring pj's to Blind Bay. WTF??? I posted on facebook that I needed pj's and sent out a plea to the BBB's to bring me a pair. The response? Nothing. NOTHING. I was perplexed and a bit sad. Where was the love?!!!! Barb made me go to Zeller's to buy some (so that I would have them for the party), warning me that I would regret it later if I didn't. Did I catch on at that point? Nope. There were other reasons motivating her for that, but I won't get into that right now.

When Barb and I walked in, all the girls were in their jammies. Laughter, fun and girl bonding; the usual with these lovely ladies. I'm blogging in 'real time' tonight which I've never done before. Holly and Claudette (thanks for bringing the tequila, toots!) are staying overnight. They are all giggling and cleaning up the appies (read: eating) as I write this and they are a bit nervous about the blogging I'm doing at this moment. No need to be frightened, girls. Not until Holly posts the photos on facebook at least. Then I will hijack them and post them here for my readers reading pleasure. (Mwah ha ha ha ha.....)

Stay tuned for more!! Thanks, my Blind Bay friends. Love you to bits. Thank you for always making me feel so loved and welcome.