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.