Another day without school. The weather outside is grey, cool, and damp. The kids went outside to play only to return within minutes. Too cold. Too wet.
Chores have been done. I am trying to come up with something creative for supper. I am failing. There isn't enough left over turkey to do much of anything, so I've pulled a package of ground beef from the freezer. Unless inspiration hits, we'll be having chili. That prospect doesn't exactly tempt my tastebuds, but it would work well with the weather.
I sat down last night and worked on making cards. I made several before running out of inspiration. I almost feel ready to crack open the scrapbooks again...
Today, I think will be a 'curl up with a book, blanket and hot chocolate' kind of day. I picked up a handful of books from the library the other night after hockey practice.
After the Night by Linda Howard
Dream Man by Linda Howard
Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood by Rebecca Wells
Sweet and Vicious by David Schickler
The Featherbed by John Miller
It doesn't look promising for school tomorrow either, but I have to work from 10am to 2pm. Mom has tomorrow off, so she can stay with the kids. Saturday morning will be an early one for me, followed by a long day. I work my first full, eight hour shift beginning at 6:30am! Ugh.
Thursday, October 13, 2005
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Give Thanks
Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.
We're having turkey for lunch.
Sam and I made pumpkin pie this afternoon. Tonight, I chopped onion and celery for the stuffing and prepared the Brussel sprouts.
Kane has offered to finish the stuffing in the morning and put the turkey in the oven, so that I can sleep in! Isn't he the best?! I'm always the one cooking the turkey, so I need to write out some instructions for him...by his request.
We're all tired today, I think. Kane and the kids were up by 5:30am, because Sam had a 6:30am hockey game. I was up by 6:15am, as I had to work at 7:30 and needed to walk there. Casey might have had a nap this afternoon; at the least, he had some quiet time. Kane had two short naps today. Sam just doesn't nap at all. Abby didn't nap either, but she'll be out quickly tonight. I don't nap often, and I didn't have time for one anyway. I worked until 1:00pm, but the the rest of the day has been spent baking, cleaning, and preparing for Thanksgiving. Now that I am beginning to simply sit, the exhaustion will ooze out of every pore.
Still, I have much to be thankful for. Here's a somewhat silly, somewhat serious list of what I'm thankful for:
-God's love, grace, mercy, forgiveness, His Son, His Word
-my relationship with God
-my husband who loves me just as I am, works hard to provide for us, loves our kids enough to get down on their level, and isn't afraid to help me with housework
-my kids who never fail to make me smile or make me proud
-my friends who also love me as I am and encourage and support me, pray for me, and bless me time and time again
-my home. It may not be everything I would love to have, but it keeps us warm in the winter and cool in the summer and dry when it's wet.
-Margaret Becker's music; I listen to her and find myself in the lyrics.
-my flannel sheets and pajamas and heat bag that keep me toasty warm in the winter
-my body pillow which supports me while I sleep
-long, hot bubble baths
-four distinct seasons
-Coca-Cola, in particular, diet coke with lime
-for my grandpa's organ sitting in my living room and my minimal ability to peck my way through a hymn book
-for our new church home. We still don't know many people, but we feel comfortable and welcomed there, and we're starting to get more involved. It feels like home.
-for an older, wiser friend who got me hooked on journaling over 15 years ago
-my favourite, and only, pair of jeans
-my favourite sweater
-my favourite books
-the NHL is back!
-that we're getting a 'new to us' van in a week or two which will have more room, captain's seats, and a working tape deck!
-that one of my girlfriends is in town for a few days and I'm able to visit with her twice
-my new job which meets my needs within my schedule
-my computer which makes some things easier, complicates other things, and provides hours of mindless entertainment
-that the kids will be going to bed very soon, so I can finally relax in relative quiet
-that my bedtime is only two or three hours away!
We're having turkey for lunch.
Sam and I made pumpkin pie this afternoon. Tonight, I chopped onion and celery for the stuffing and prepared the Brussel sprouts.
Kane has offered to finish the stuffing in the morning and put the turkey in the oven, so that I can sleep in! Isn't he the best?! I'm always the one cooking the turkey, so I need to write out some instructions for him...by his request.
We're all tired today, I think. Kane and the kids were up by 5:30am, because Sam had a 6:30am hockey game. I was up by 6:15am, as I had to work at 7:30 and needed to walk there. Casey might have had a nap this afternoon; at the least, he had some quiet time. Kane had two short naps today. Sam just doesn't nap at all. Abby didn't nap either, but she'll be out quickly tonight. I don't nap often, and I didn't have time for one anyway. I worked until 1:00pm, but the the rest of the day has been spent baking, cleaning, and preparing for Thanksgiving. Now that I am beginning to simply sit, the exhaustion will ooze out of every pore.
Still, I have much to be thankful for. Here's a somewhat silly, somewhat serious list of what I'm thankful for:
-God's love, grace, mercy, forgiveness, His Son, His Word
-my relationship with God
-my husband who loves me just as I am, works hard to provide for us, loves our kids enough to get down on their level, and isn't afraid to help me with housework
-my kids who never fail to make me smile or make me proud
-my friends who also love me as I am and encourage and support me, pray for me, and bless me time and time again
-my home. It may not be everything I would love to have, but it keeps us warm in the winter and cool in the summer and dry when it's wet.
-Margaret Becker's music; I listen to her and find myself in the lyrics.
-my flannel sheets and pajamas and heat bag that keep me toasty warm in the winter
-my body pillow which supports me while I sleep
-long, hot bubble baths
-four distinct seasons
-Coca-Cola, in particular, diet coke with lime
-for my grandpa's organ sitting in my living room and my minimal ability to peck my way through a hymn book
-for our new church home. We still don't know many people, but we feel comfortable and welcomed there, and we're starting to get more involved. It feels like home.
-for an older, wiser friend who got me hooked on journaling over 15 years ago
-my favourite, and only, pair of jeans
-my favourite sweater
-my favourite books
-the NHL is back!
-that we're getting a 'new to us' van in a week or two which will have more room, captain's seats, and a working tape deck!
-that one of my girlfriends is in town for a few days and I'm able to visit with her twice
-my new job which meets my needs within my schedule
-my computer which makes some things easier, complicates other things, and provides hours of mindless entertainment
-that the kids will be going to bed very soon, so I can finally relax in relative quiet
-that my bedtime is only two or three hours away!
Saturday, October 08, 2005
The Drop of the Puck
Hockey season has officially begun. The NHL season opened this past Wednesday, and today was Sam's first game of the year. Unfortunately, Sam's favourite NHL player, Mats Sundin, was injured about 8 minutes into his team's game and will be out for 4-6 weeks. Ouch! Seriously, wear a visor!
Sam's game ended in a 5-5 tie this morning. The game was alright, fairly even, and seemingly put together considering we've only had one practice. He plays again tomorrow morning, but I'll miss that one due to work.
I hate missing my kids' sports. Guess I just need to get over it.
Sam's game ended in a 5-5 tie this morning. The game was alright, fairly even, and seemingly put together considering we've only had one practice. He plays again tomorrow morning, but I'll miss that one due to work.
I hate missing my kids' sports. Guess I just need to get over it.
Friday, October 07, 2005
Random Thoughts
Why do some people treat employees so horribly? Is it necessary to talk to the person serving you as if this person was stupid or incompetent? The customer is always right; any employee has this rule drilled into his/her head from the get-go. Some customers seem to believe that this gives them the right to treat servers like trash. I hate it.
Obviously, I had a customer treat me this way today. I'm just going to vent a little steam and slough it off. There is just no pleasing some people.
~~~~
Teachers in my province erected a picket line today, which meant that there was no school today. Thankfully, my mom was able to keep my kids at her workplace for the four hours that I had to work today. She put them to work peeling vegetables and dusting. I work tomorrow and Sunday, but my next weekday shift isn't until next Friday. Hopefully, this teachers' strike is over by then!
I hate this strike, too. Who is being hurt the most? The kids, especially those who struggle in school. I know that Abby, and even Casey, would be able to catch up easily enough and handle an increased workload, if the strike extends for some time. Sam is a completely different story.
~~~~
I am thankful to have Monday off as this is our Thanksgiving weekend. Kane was willing to cook the turkey if I had had to work during the day. He won't need to do that now, but maybe I can sweet talk him into helping. The experience would do him good.
I love turkey! And, all the fixings. Well, those that are tradition for our family: mashed potatoes, gravy, Brussel sprouts, stuffing, pumpkin pie.
~~~~
Sam has two hockey games this weekend. I'll be able to see his first game tomorrow, but I'll miss Sunday's game because of work. We're not overly thrilled with who Sam's coach is this year; the last person we wanted actually. But, as we have told Sam, we will work with what we're given and do the best we can. This coach picked Sam, so obviously there is something he values in Sam! Perhaps this year with this coach will be a better experience than our last.
Obviously, I had a customer treat me this way today. I'm just going to vent a little steam and slough it off. There is just no pleasing some people.
~~~~
Teachers in my province erected a picket line today, which meant that there was no school today. Thankfully, my mom was able to keep my kids at her workplace for the four hours that I had to work today. She put them to work peeling vegetables and dusting. I work tomorrow and Sunday, but my next weekday shift isn't until next Friday. Hopefully, this teachers' strike is over by then!
I hate this strike, too. Who is being hurt the most? The kids, especially those who struggle in school. I know that Abby, and even Casey, would be able to catch up easily enough and handle an increased workload, if the strike extends for some time. Sam is a completely different story.
~~~~
I am thankful to have Monday off as this is our Thanksgiving weekend. Kane was willing to cook the turkey if I had had to work during the day. He won't need to do that now, but maybe I can sweet talk him into helping. The experience would do him good.
I love turkey! And, all the fixings. Well, those that are tradition for our family: mashed potatoes, gravy, Brussel sprouts, stuffing, pumpkin pie.
~~~~
Sam has two hockey games this weekend. I'll be able to see his first game tomorrow, but I'll miss Sunday's game because of work. We're not overly thrilled with who Sam's coach is this year; the last person we wanted actually. But, as we have told Sam, we will work with what we're given and do the best we can. This coach picked Sam, so obviously there is something he values in Sam! Perhaps this year with this coach will be a better experience than our last.
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Interpretation
As I bathed this afternoon, I had a 'lightbulb turning on' kind of moment.
Many months ago, I had a vivid dream about my friend and his decision to leave his wife. (I'll call him Joe.) In my dream, there was a circle of people sitting in a room. Joe stood in the middle, while I was outside the circle in the shadows. The people in the circle were not Joe's family, nor were they his old, close friends; they were the people he worked with and hung out with in his 'new' life.
Joe's purpose for this meeting was to tell his "friends" that he had made bad choices and was repenting of them. He was turning his life around. As he looked at each one of these people, Joe said, "It's not because of you that I have reached this place." Then, Joe pointed to me and said, "It is because of her."
After this dream, I kept it to myself for a long time. I wasn't completely sure what to make of it. I have many dreams; each unique, exciting, and often vivid, but never so clearly connected to a real situation with people I know personally. And, I was embarrassed by the comment about my involvement.
However, I always assumed that this dream was for my friend and her husband; for reconciliation. When I finally did share my dream with my friend, I held back the part where Joe pointed me out, again because it embarrassed me. I didn't want this dream to be about me, nor did I want to see personal glory for any change in Joe. I still don't.
Yet, today, a light flashed above my head as I lathered shampoo in my hair. Perhaps, the message of my dream wasn't necessarily meant for my friends, but for me!
Not that I am a wonder woman or a miracle worker, but that I have a strong desire to keep the lines of communication open and to continue being a friend to Joe, despite disagreeing with his choices.
Even with this personal discovery, I am fearful about it. What if this dream was only a dream? Maybe God wasn't speaking to me while I slept...after all, I'm not the best example of one of His children. Why would He speak to me at all?
Because, perfect or imperfect, I am one of His children, and He uses His children in mighty and mysterious ways. Sometimes, He uses the least likely person. Often, these insignificant people do big things for God!
Do I feel big? Hardly. Do I feel worthy of being spoken to by God? Not at all. Do I want to be used by Him for His glory? Absolutely!
Many months ago, I had a vivid dream about my friend and his decision to leave his wife. (I'll call him Joe.) In my dream, there was a circle of people sitting in a room. Joe stood in the middle, while I was outside the circle in the shadows. The people in the circle were not Joe's family, nor were they his old, close friends; they were the people he worked with and hung out with in his 'new' life.
Joe's purpose for this meeting was to tell his "friends" that he had made bad choices and was repenting of them. He was turning his life around. As he looked at each one of these people, Joe said, "It's not because of you that I have reached this place." Then, Joe pointed to me and said, "It is because of her."
After this dream, I kept it to myself for a long time. I wasn't completely sure what to make of it. I have many dreams; each unique, exciting, and often vivid, but never so clearly connected to a real situation with people I know personally. And, I was embarrassed by the comment about my involvement.
However, I always assumed that this dream was for my friend and her husband; for reconciliation. When I finally did share my dream with my friend, I held back the part where Joe pointed me out, again because it embarrassed me. I didn't want this dream to be about me, nor did I want to see personal glory for any change in Joe. I still don't.
Yet, today, a light flashed above my head as I lathered shampoo in my hair. Perhaps, the message of my dream wasn't necessarily meant for my friends, but for me!
Not that I am a wonder woman or a miracle worker, but that I have a strong desire to keep the lines of communication open and to continue being a friend to Joe, despite disagreeing with his choices.
Even with this personal discovery, I am fearful about it. What if this dream was only a dream? Maybe God wasn't speaking to me while I slept...after all, I'm not the best example of one of His children. Why would He speak to me at all?
Because, perfect or imperfect, I am one of His children, and He uses His children in mighty and mysterious ways. Sometimes, He uses the least likely person. Often, these insignificant people do big things for God!
Do I feel big? Hardly. Do I feel worthy of being spoken to by God? Not at all. Do I want to be used by Him for His glory? Absolutely!
Monday, October 03, 2005
Melancholy
I am sad today. For reasons beyond my control and out of my reach. It is hard to pick up the pieces of a broken heart.
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Find Me
I've changed the music playing in my CD player; no more sad violin, for now. Instead, I'm listening to Margaret Becker. She is my favourite artist. Her music allows me to worship, to rock out, and to turn introspective. This song hit a chord with me today; it is from the album The Reckoning.
Find Me
I'm gonna move on down to Elliston
Let my hair grow wild and free
Rent a second story studio
Find the other side of me
I'm gonna sit out on the edge of the fire escape
Feel a little destitute
Search for the feelings that will help me remember
The love that I had for You
Find me, find me
I'll wait for You
Find me, find me
I'll wait for You
I'm gonna give away my stereo
Give away my TV
I'm going back to essentials, a chair and a lamp
And the Book that You wrote to me
You see, I'm looking for the You that used to speak so clear
I'm looking for the me that had a heart to hear
And I'm looking for the passion that held me here
On the edge
Find me, find me
I'll wait for You
Find me, find me
I'll wait for you
You see, I'm looking for the me that I used to know
I'm looking for the love that was out of control
'Cause I feel a little cold here in the afterglow
Find me, find me
I'll wait for You
Find Me
I'm gonna move on down to Elliston
Let my hair grow wild and free
Rent a second story studio
Find the other side of me
I'm gonna sit out on the edge of the fire escape
Feel a little destitute
Search for the feelings that will help me remember
The love that I had for You
Find me, find me
I'll wait for You
Find me, find me
I'll wait for You
I'm gonna give away my stereo
Give away my TV
I'm going back to essentials, a chair and a lamp
And the Book that You wrote to me
You see, I'm looking for the You that used to speak so clear
I'm looking for the me that had a heart to hear
And I'm looking for the passion that held me here
On the edge
Find me, find me
I'll wait for You
Find me, find me
I'll wait for you
You see, I'm looking for the me that I used to know
I'm looking for the love that was out of control
'Cause I feel a little cold here in the afterglow
Find me, find me
I'll wait for You
Monday, September 26, 2005
Strike Out!
So, the teachers in our province have given strike notice effective this Wednesday. At this point, they will still teach and supervise extra-curricular activities, but they will not carry out a list of other activities. Each of my children came home today with a letter outlining what these activities will be and how this job action will affect schooling.
Most of the activities are administrative: not attending staff meetings or professional development days; not completing or submitting student assessments or referrals; not even accepting any form of communication from the Principal or school district; no doing inventory or organizing textbooks or answering school office phones.
Yet, there are some actions that will have far greater impact on parents and students. There will be no recess, so students will be dismissed from school 15 minutes early at the end of the day. Older students lose their nutrition break. Teachers will not distribute newsletters to the students, nor will they prepare or distribute report cards.
There's more of course; the list covers nearly an entire page of paper, and if the strike continues, there could be rotating work stoppages.
I admit that I am miffed by this strike. I know several teachers personally and have not met very many "bad" teachers. Teachers work hard, give far more of themselves than they ever receive back, and deserve to be treated fairly and with respect. But, as a parent, I don't like having my children's education suffer in the process.
While kids may not miss having a report card, I want to see how my kids are doing, where they struggle and where they excel. I want to read communication from the school; I like to know what is going on in the school community. I want my children to have access to whatever resource they may need to learn and succeed.
Last week, Casey's teacher and the learning assistance teacher were all ready to give me an appointment to discuss Casey's progress and areas needing help. They set a time, but it didn't work for me. I sent a note today letting these teachers know when I would be available for this meeting. Instead, I received a phone call from Casey's teacher saying that Casey wouldn't be seeing the learning assistance teacher for a long time. I can't help but connect this new time frame with the impending teacher's strike.
Casey is doing well so far this year. His spelling is still awful, but he's much improved from last year. I'm not terrible upset about the lack of learning assistance for him at this point, but I do worry how this strike might affect Sam.
Sam is doing okay so far, but I know he'll need help. I sent a note this morning asking how to go about ensuring that Sam receives help in math and English. I was quite surprised when his math teacher called me after school today. He let me know that Sam is already on an adapted learning outcome, and he is more than available to help Sam whenever he needs it. This teacher also let me know that if, and when, Sam needs more specific assistance, that I can call the learning assistance teacher, but I might need to be quite demanding. Apparently, the LATs spend most of their time helping students with a modified learning outcome and tend to be slow and hesitant to help those with only an adapted outcome. I understand and appreciate that there are students with greater needs than Sam, but it does surprise me that I would have to be pushy in order to get Sam help that he needs.
I agree that teachers need more money in the school systems, so long as it actually benefits the students. Smaller class sizes would be wonderful, but maybe they should stop closing down schools first. It's the kids that suffer when the government cuts back the education budget. The kids are still the ones that suffer when teachers strike and protest.
I'm just glad that I don't have to worry about daycare or the disruption of an earlier dismissal. Not yet anyway.
Most of the activities are administrative: not attending staff meetings or professional development days; not completing or submitting student assessments or referrals; not even accepting any form of communication from the Principal or school district; no doing inventory or organizing textbooks or answering school office phones.
Yet, there are some actions that will have far greater impact on parents and students. There will be no recess, so students will be dismissed from school 15 minutes early at the end of the day. Older students lose their nutrition break. Teachers will not distribute newsletters to the students, nor will they prepare or distribute report cards.
There's more of course; the list covers nearly an entire page of paper, and if the strike continues, there could be rotating work stoppages.
I admit that I am miffed by this strike. I know several teachers personally and have not met very many "bad" teachers. Teachers work hard, give far more of themselves than they ever receive back, and deserve to be treated fairly and with respect. But, as a parent, I don't like having my children's education suffer in the process.
While kids may not miss having a report card, I want to see how my kids are doing, where they struggle and where they excel. I want to read communication from the school; I like to know what is going on in the school community. I want my children to have access to whatever resource they may need to learn and succeed.
Last week, Casey's teacher and the learning assistance teacher were all ready to give me an appointment to discuss Casey's progress and areas needing help. They set a time, but it didn't work for me. I sent a note today letting these teachers know when I would be available for this meeting. Instead, I received a phone call from Casey's teacher saying that Casey wouldn't be seeing the learning assistance teacher for a long time. I can't help but connect this new time frame with the impending teacher's strike.
Casey is doing well so far this year. His spelling is still awful, but he's much improved from last year. I'm not terrible upset about the lack of learning assistance for him at this point, but I do worry how this strike might affect Sam.
Sam is doing okay so far, but I know he'll need help. I sent a note this morning asking how to go about ensuring that Sam receives help in math and English. I was quite surprised when his math teacher called me after school today. He let me know that Sam is already on an adapted learning outcome, and he is more than available to help Sam whenever he needs it. This teacher also let me know that if, and when, Sam needs more specific assistance, that I can call the learning assistance teacher, but I might need to be quite demanding. Apparently, the LATs spend most of their time helping students with a modified learning outcome and tend to be slow and hesitant to help those with only an adapted outcome. I understand and appreciate that there are students with greater needs than Sam, but it does surprise me that I would have to be pushy in order to get Sam help that he needs.
I agree that teachers need more money in the school systems, so long as it actually benefits the students. Smaller class sizes would be wonderful, but maybe they should stop closing down schools first. It's the kids that suffer when the government cuts back the education budget. The kids are still the ones that suffer when teachers strike and protest.
I'm just glad that I don't have to worry about daycare or the disruption of an earlier dismissal. Not yet anyway.
Sunday, September 25, 2005
In My Shoes
Sad news today. A man we've known for some time passed away a few days ago. Kane and I last saw this man and his wife close to a year ago. He had been sick for some time battling cancer but seemed well when we saw him. He's with the Lord now. It would be nice to go to the funeral on Tuesday, but this is something I'll have to play by ear.
We have a busy week ahead of us. There are a few new activities beginning this week, plus regular activities. Here is the a snapshot of my week:
Monday-I work from 9am to 2pm. Casey and Abby are finished school at 2:30; Sam at 3:09. Sam has hockey evaluations at 5:45pm to 6:45pm. I'll be taking him there, while Kane will take the other two to their floor hockey league from 6:30pm to 8:30pm. I will probably have my regular girls' night out at 7:30pm...assuming that I'm not wiped out by then.
Tuesday-Sam has hockey evaluations from 6:45pm to 7:45pm. The funeral for our acquaintance is at 1pm.
Wednesday-It is quite likely that the kids will get dismissed from school 15 minutes earlier from today on as part of job action for the teachers' strike. Casey and Abby for sure, but I don't know about Sam. Middle school students don't have recess which is why the other two get out early. No recess during this phase of the strike. Casey and Abby will need to deliver newspapers very promptly after school. Sam won't be coming home right away as he has cross-country running after. He'll take the team bus across the city for a race at 4:30pm. Abby has a music club at church which runs from 3:30pm to 4:45pm. Kane is hoping to pick Abby up, so I can make it to Sam's race. Parents need to pick their kids up after the race anyway. Then, at 7:00pm, Sam has junior youth and Casey has a club for grade 5/6 students. Thankfully, both are at our church!
Thursday-You know, I think this day is actually free! Well, so far free from external activities anyway.
Friday-we're meeting at 9:30am with immediate family at the cemetery to see my grandpa's ashes placed in my grandmother's grave. His memorial service begins at 11:00am with a lunch to follow. The kids have newspapers to deliver before supper. I would imagine that we'll also have some kind of family gathering with relatives. The last time everyone was all together was nearly a year ago for my step-grandmother's funeral. How sad!
Saturday-I work from 8:30am to 12:30pm. Sam has hockey evaluation from 6:45am to 8:15am. The rest of our day is free.
Sunday-I work from 11:00am to 3:00pm. I'm disappointed about that, especially since Greg Sczebel will be performing during the service. He's a somewhat local musician who is simply awesome! I think we'll go for the 9:30am service and leave after worship, so I can get to work on time.
So, that is how the week is looking. Of course, I haven't accounted for all the mundane aspects of life. Laundry still needs to be done. Monday has been my laundry day for the past few years, but it won't be this week. One of my sisters will be arriving in town sometime this week. She's living in Ontario but coming for the funeral. I have a house to clean, meals to make, homework to help with, baking to bake, books to read, and TV shows to watch. Books and TV are great for escaping!
In fact, I just finished a good book today. In Her Shoes by Jennifer Weiner. I had read another of her books a few weeks ago, enjoyed it and put some more of her titles on hold at the library. It wasn't until I received this book that I realized has been made into a movie starring Cameron Diaz and Toni Collette. I'd heard of the movie before being aware of this book and had mentally written the movie off. Now that I've read the book, I am eager to see the movie. I only hope they do the story justice. I loved the book. I want a copy to sit on my bookshelf to be pulled out and read on a regular basis. In many ways, I saw my reflection in this story. Of course, it wasn't a perfect reflection; there are so many differences! But, I can really identify with the two sisters.
We have a busy week ahead of us. There are a few new activities beginning this week, plus regular activities. Here is the a snapshot of my week:
Monday-I work from 9am to 2pm. Casey and Abby are finished school at 2:30; Sam at 3:09. Sam has hockey evaluations at 5:45pm to 6:45pm. I'll be taking him there, while Kane will take the other two to their floor hockey league from 6:30pm to 8:30pm. I will probably have my regular girls' night out at 7:30pm...assuming that I'm not wiped out by then.
Tuesday-Sam has hockey evaluations from 6:45pm to 7:45pm. The funeral for our acquaintance is at 1pm.
Wednesday-It is quite likely that the kids will get dismissed from school 15 minutes earlier from today on as part of job action for the teachers' strike. Casey and Abby for sure, but I don't know about Sam. Middle school students don't have recess which is why the other two get out early. No recess during this phase of the strike. Casey and Abby will need to deliver newspapers very promptly after school. Sam won't be coming home right away as he has cross-country running after. He'll take the team bus across the city for a race at 4:30pm. Abby has a music club at church which runs from 3:30pm to 4:45pm. Kane is hoping to pick Abby up, so I can make it to Sam's race. Parents need to pick their kids up after the race anyway. Then, at 7:00pm, Sam has junior youth and Casey has a club for grade 5/6 students. Thankfully, both are at our church!
Thursday-You know, I think this day is actually free! Well, so far free from external activities anyway.
Friday-we're meeting at 9:30am with immediate family at the cemetery to see my grandpa's ashes placed in my grandmother's grave. His memorial service begins at 11:00am with a lunch to follow. The kids have newspapers to deliver before supper. I would imagine that we'll also have some kind of family gathering with relatives. The last time everyone was all together was nearly a year ago for my step-grandmother's funeral. How sad!
Saturday-I work from 8:30am to 12:30pm. Sam has hockey evaluation from 6:45am to 8:15am. The rest of our day is free.
Sunday-I work from 11:00am to 3:00pm. I'm disappointed about that, especially since Greg Sczebel will be performing during the service. He's a somewhat local musician who is simply awesome! I think we'll go for the 9:30am service and leave after worship, so I can get to work on time.
So, that is how the week is looking. Of course, I haven't accounted for all the mundane aspects of life. Laundry still needs to be done. Monday has been my laundry day for the past few years, but it won't be this week. One of my sisters will be arriving in town sometime this week. She's living in Ontario but coming for the funeral. I have a house to clean, meals to make, homework to help with, baking to bake, books to read, and TV shows to watch. Books and TV are great for escaping!
In fact, I just finished a good book today. In Her Shoes by Jennifer Weiner. I had read another of her books a few weeks ago, enjoyed it and put some more of her titles on hold at the library. It wasn't until I received this book that I realized has been made into a movie starring Cameron Diaz and Toni Collette. I'd heard of the movie before being aware of this book and had mentally written the movie off. Now that I've read the book, I am eager to see the movie. I only hope they do the story justice. I loved the book. I want a copy to sit on my bookshelf to be pulled out and read on a regular basis. In many ways, I saw my reflection in this story. Of course, it wasn't a perfect reflection; there are so many differences! But, I can really identify with the two sisters.
Friday, September 23, 2005
Apples, Funerals, and Violins
The house smells great...cinnamon and apples. Fall has arrived, and there is a chill in the air. The kids do not have school today, so I am baking. An apple pie and some apple cinnamon muffins are cooling on the counter. So many apples yet to use up!
Life is moving on as it always does. There is no rest for the weary, no reprieve for the frazzled. Still, I am doing well.
My grandpa's funeral is a week from today. It seems so far away; too distant to even really blip on the radar. Yet, I know that it will be here before I know it.
I have cried and, in a way, I am mourning, but life is too busy and the funeral too far to truly feel the full effect of this loss yet. In a week, I will be a puddle of saline. I know I will be.
In the meantime, there is work to be done and things to do. I have a four hour shift at work tomorrow. Five hours on Monday. Casey and Abby have floor hockey Monday night. Wednesday is the craziest of days. Abby has a music club at 3:30 until 4:30. Sam has a cross country race at 4:30 and junior youth group at 7pm. Casey has his kids' club at 7pm. Somewhere in there, I need to meet with Casey's teacher and the learning assistance teacher. My sister will be arriving sometime in the middle of the week from Ontario; I assume she'll be staying with us. Other relatives will be arriving at some point. We don't have room to hold anymore, but I am sure that we might need to open our home for visiting. No problem.
The funeral is Friday. At 9:30am, there will be a small, private "ceremony" at the cemetery to see his ashes placed in my grandmother's grave. The memorial service itself begins at 11am with a lunch to follow. It will be a long day.
I work on the Saturday and Sunday for four hours each day. Short enough shifts to go quickly, but I'm a little disappointed about having to work the day after the funeral. I suppose my boss' sympathy only goes so far. It isn't a terribly big deal really. Who knows? It might even be a welcome diversion and reprieve from a crush of relatives.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam competed in his first cross-country race this past Wednesday. The course was about 3.5 km, fairly level terrain. He finished with a time of 20:51. He had missed the first practice because of a doctor's appointment and had virtually no training. I am so proud of his performance. He did very well for his first time!
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I have been reading a lot lately; I have a lot of free time on my hands but no mental energy to work on weightier projects. I've also been listening to Itzhak Perlman a lot. I love the violin, and he plays beautifully. It fits my internal mood quite well. Violin music is beautiful, emotional, sometimes melancholic but it can also be energetic and moving. It is introspective. Perhaps that is part of the reason why I love the sound of violins so much-the music permeates every fibre of my being and moves me emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
Life is moving on as it always does. There is no rest for the weary, no reprieve for the frazzled. Still, I am doing well.
My grandpa's funeral is a week from today. It seems so far away; too distant to even really blip on the radar. Yet, I know that it will be here before I know it.
I have cried and, in a way, I am mourning, but life is too busy and the funeral too far to truly feel the full effect of this loss yet. In a week, I will be a puddle of saline. I know I will be.
In the meantime, there is work to be done and things to do. I have a four hour shift at work tomorrow. Five hours on Monday. Casey and Abby have floor hockey Monday night. Wednesday is the craziest of days. Abby has a music club at 3:30 until 4:30. Sam has a cross country race at 4:30 and junior youth group at 7pm. Casey has his kids' club at 7pm. Somewhere in there, I need to meet with Casey's teacher and the learning assistance teacher. My sister will be arriving sometime in the middle of the week from Ontario; I assume she'll be staying with us. Other relatives will be arriving at some point. We don't have room to hold anymore, but I am sure that we might need to open our home for visiting. No problem.
The funeral is Friday. At 9:30am, there will be a small, private "ceremony" at the cemetery to see his ashes placed in my grandmother's grave. The memorial service itself begins at 11am with a lunch to follow. It will be a long day.
I work on the Saturday and Sunday for four hours each day. Short enough shifts to go quickly, but I'm a little disappointed about having to work the day after the funeral. I suppose my boss' sympathy only goes so far. It isn't a terribly big deal really. Who knows? It might even be a welcome diversion and reprieve from a crush of relatives.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Sam competed in his first cross-country race this past Wednesday. The course was about 3.5 km, fairly level terrain. He finished with a time of 20:51. He had missed the first practice because of a doctor's appointment and had virtually no training. I am so proud of his performance. He did very well for his first time!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have been reading a lot lately; I have a lot of free time on my hands but no mental energy to work on weightier projects. I've also been listening to Itzhak Perlman a lot. I love the violin, and he plays beautifully. It fits my internal mood quite well. Violin music is beautiful, emotional, sometimes melancholic but it can also be energetic and moving. It is introspective. Perhaps that is part of the reason why I love the sound of violins so much-the music permeates every fibre of my being and moves me emotionally, mentally, and spiritually.
Saturday, September 17, 2005
Passed Away
My grandpa passed from this life to the next around 4pm this afternoon. I didn't find out until I got home from work shortly after 9pm. Expecting it doesn't make the news any easier to swallow. Tears have already sprung with many more yet to shed, but at least, there is hope in the sorrow. And peace.
My grandpa felt regret that he left so little of a legacy for his family. Knowing that he felt this way is enough to bring me to tears. My grandpa was rich in the things that mattered, and the legacy he left is incredible. I have been blessed to have godly grandparents, and many of my childhood memories of my grandpa remind me of his faith in a living God. That is all the legacy that I need.
My grandpa felt regret that he left so little of a legacy for his family. Knowing that he felt this way is enough to bring me to tears. My grandpa was rich in the things that mattered, and the legacy he left is incredible. I have been blessed to have godly grandparents, and many of my childhood memories of my grandpa remind me of his faith in a living God. That is all the legacy that I need.
Friday, September 16, 2005
The Stage is Set
I didn't have time to finish my previous post. It would have been a lengthy one, I think. This may not be the best time for me to write more about my day, but it would be too easy to allow these thoughts and feelings to simply be absorbed without consideration. If that makes sense...
I am exhausted today. I was alert enough for work, but once I was back home...it has been a rapid decline. It is only 8:30pm and I am highly tempted to close my eyes for the night.
Kane and I did not sleep well last night. We went to bed at 11pm as we often do. We were asleep quickly but not for long. The phone rang at 11:30, and I stumbled down the hall in the dark, without my glasses, hoping to locate the phone before the voice mail kicked in. I made it to the phone in time; it was a Constable from Victoria asking for Kane.
Hell broke loose in my brother-in-law's house late last night, and the overflow reached through the phone line into our home. The RCMP had our sister-in-law in a holding cell for the night. She was very drunk and hysterical; she'd even attacked the constables. Apparently, she had been banging on neighbours' doors and running up and down the street with bloodied hands. In hysterics. She couldn't find her daughter-her husband had taken her daughter.
The only thing the constable had been able to get out of Pat was our phone number. Kane got a bit of information from the constable before the call was abruptly terminated. She, the constable, called back about fifteen minutes later to explain the situation further and to ask Kane for some background information. After that, Kane tried calling Brent on his cell phone but could only leave a voice mail message asking him to please call us.
Once more our sleep was interrupted...just when I had finally fallen back asleep. Again, it was the constable wanting more information, etc. Naturally, being the worrier that he is, Kane couldn't come back to bed right away. I lay in bed unable to fall back asleep for some time. Instead, I tossed and turned; my hip joints weren't allowing me to stay on either side for too long at a time. I knew that I was going to loathe the alarm this morning. I was right.
Kane left two messages last night on Brent's cell phone. He didn't return the call until sometime today when no one was home. Even then, his voice had that annoyingly saccharine tone to it, and he simply said they were fine. Gee, thanks for all the information!
Pat called this morning about a half hour before I went to work. I was the only one home and debated whether to answer or not. I did. She asked if we had received a phone call last night from Brent or the police. Yes, the police. I mentioned that Kane had tried calling Brent, but we hadn't heard anything from him. She hadn't yet either but was now at home having slept off the booze in jail. She cried, told me she was sick and feeling isolated, and asked us to tell Brent to call her. Assuming that he would call us. Frankly, I'm surprised he even bothered!
So, that was our night and the reason for our exhaustion. I'm so tired that I can't even begin to feel anything emotionally about this situation. I know that there are emotions swirling somewhere. How could there not be? I feel too much, but today I am too numb and tired to process anything.
After work, I received more bad news. Nursing staff now believes that my grandfather has only 48 to 72 hours left; he is in rapid decline.
Tears are splashing against the surface, threatening to overflow. It will happen. Soon. Sometime. Because of the faith that I have and because of the faith that my grandpa has, I know that there is something glorious about to happen. My grandpa will soon be ushered into Jesus' presence. No more cancer. No more pain. No more bones shattered and ravaged. Simply joy! And peace. I know this as much as I know that grass is green and the sky is blue. I know it and take comfort in this truth. Yet, faith does not erase the pain of loss. It does not smooth away all traces of sorrow. This pain, this sorrow is temporary and earthly, and I am human. Flesh and blood.
There has been so much drama played out between these familial walls. I've long since grown weary of the repetition, the heartache, the stupidity and folly of people I love. Still, I cannot walk out of this theatre; I'm firmly entrenched. I thought once that I was merely an observer sitting in my padded seat, far enough back from the stage as to be obscured by the dark. How wrong I was! I am no mere observer. I am a participant, an actor on the stage of life. I may not enjoy the story being acted out, but I do have a part to play, words to say, and actions to carry out. Perhaps the real tragedy isn't in the story but in my lines and actions?
I am exhausted today. I was alert enough for work, but once I was back home...it has been a rapid decline. It is only 8:30pm and I am highly tempted to close my eyes for the night.
Kane and I did not sleep well last night. We went to bed at 11pm as we often do. We were asleep quickly but not for long. The phone rang at 11:30, and I stumbled down the hall in the dark, without my glasses, hoping to locate the phone before the voice mail kicked in. I made it to the phone in time; it was a Constable from Victoria asking for Kane.
Hell broke loose in my brother-in-law's house late last night, and the overflow reached through the phone line into our home. The RCMP had our sister-in-law in a holding cell for the night. She was very drunk and hysterical; she'd even attacked the constables. Apparently, she had been banging on neighbours' doors and running up and down the street with bloodied hands. In hysterics. She couldn't find her daughter-her husband had taken her daughter.
The only thing the constable had been able to get out of Pat was our phone number. Kane got a bit of information from the constable before the call was abruptly terminated. She, the constable, called back about fifteen minutes later to explain the situation further and to ask Kane for some background information. After that, Kane tried calling Brent on his cell phone but could only leave a voice mail message asking him to please call us.
Once more our sleep was interrupted...just when I had finally fallen back asleep. Again, it was the constable wanting more information, etc. Naturally, being the worrier that he is, Kane couldn't come back to bed right away. I lay in bed unable to fall back asleep for some time. Instead, I tossed and turned; my hip joints weren't allowing me to stay on either side for too long at a time. I knew that I was going to loathe the alarm this morning. I was right.
Kane left two messages last night on Brent's cell phone. He didn't return the call until sometime today when no one was home. Even then, his voice had that annoyingly saccharine tone to it, and he simply said they were fine. Gee, thanks for all the information!
Pat called this morning about a half hour before I went to work. I was the only one home and debated whether to answer or not. I did. She asked if we had received a phone call last night from Brent or the police. Yes, the police. I mentioned that Kane had tried calling Brent, but we hadn't heard anything from him. She hadn't yet either but was now at home having slept off the booze in jail. She cried, told me she was sick and feeling isolated, and asked us to tell Brent to call her. Assuming that he would call us. Frankly, I'm surprised he even bothered!
So, that was our night and the reason for our exhaustion. I'm so tired that I can't even begin to feel anything emotionally about this situation. I know that there are emotions swirling somewhere. How could there not be? I feel too much, but today I am too numb and tired to process anything.
After work, I received more bad news. Nursing staff now believes that my grandfather has only 48 to 72 hours left; he is in rapid decline.
Tears are splashing against the surface, threatening to overflow. It will happen. Soon. Sometime. Because of the faith that I have and because of the faith that my grandpa has, I know that there is something glorious about to happen. My grandpa will soon be ushered into Jesus' presence. No more cancer. No more pain. No more bones shattered and ravaged. Simply joy! And peace. I know this as much as I know that grass is green and the sky is blue. I know it and take comfort in this truth. Yet, faith does not erase the pain of loss. It does not smooth away all traces of sorrow. This pain, this sorrow is temporary and earthly, and I am human. Flesh and blood.
There has been so much drama played out between these familial walls. I've long since grown weary of the repetition, the heartache, the stupidity and folly of people I love. Still, I cannot walk out of this theatre; I'm firmly entrenched. I thought once that I was merely an observer sitting in my padded seat, far enough back from the stage as to be obscured by the dark. How wrong I was! I am no mere observer. I am a participant, an actor on the stage of life. I may not enjoy the story being acted out, but I do have a part to play, words to say, and actions to carry out. Perhaps the real tragedy isn't in the story but in my lines and actions?
TGIF!
Today was my second training shift. Time went relatively quickly, though my break was once again nearly forgotten. I think I'm finally beginning to understand the till. It really isn't terribly complicated, but there are a lot of buttons and sub-menus to find. And, of course, the correct sequencing for entering sandwiches, soups, and combos. Aargh!
The worst part of the shift was when I was supposed to be off at 3pm. My trainer was also off at three, and she conveniently disappeared, leaving me to continue taking orders from the line of people at the counter. By the time that all cleared away, I felt like I had to beg before someone else would cover the counter. Then just as I am getting ready to leave, someone tells me that I need to clear all the dining room tables before I leave. At this point, it was already 3:15 and I was in a hurry.
Sam was expecting me to pick him up at school which ended at 3:09. Actually, he was to meet me on a side street near the school, because the parking lot is a zoo before and after school. So, I had no way to let him know that I was on my way; just running late. If he didn't wait there for me, I had no idea which way he would walk home, and I needed to be at the elementary school to pick Casey and Abby up at 3:30. At 3:15, I wasn't really thrilled about being told to clear the tables before I left. But, I did it anyway and saved my fuming for the solitude of my van. Of course, by the time I picked up Sam it was 3:25, and he had begun to worry. We hadn't discussed what to do if I was late, but we've covered it now. We arrived at the elementary school just as Casey and Abby were getting ready to walk out the doors.
I don't mind clearing tables before I leave for home, but my trainer shouldn't have signed out and left without letting me know and making sure I was doing the same. And really, it wouldn't have been as big a deal if I wasn't in a rush to pick up my kids.
The worst part of the shift was when I was supposed to be off at 3pm. My trainer was also off at three, and she conveniently disappeared, leaving me to continue taking orders from the line of people at the counter. By the time that all cleared away, I felt like I had to beg before someone else would cover the counter. Then just as I am getting ready to leave, someone tells me that I need to clear all the dining room tables before I leave. At this point, it was already 3:15 and I was in a hurry.
Sam was expecting me to pick him up at school which ended at 3:09. Actually, he was to meet me on a side street near the school, because the parking lot is a zoo before and after school. So, I had no way to let him know that I was on my way; just running late. If he didn't wait there for me, I had no idea which way he would walk home, and I needed to be at the elementary school to pick Casey and Abby up at 3:30. At 3:15, I wasn't really thrilled about being told to clear the tables before I left. But, I did it anyway and saved my fuming for the solitude of my van. Of course, by the time I picked up Sam it was 3:25, and he had begun to worry. We hadn't discussed what to do if I was late, but we've covered it now. We arrived at the elementary school just as Casey and Abby were getting ready to walk out the doors.
I don't mind clearing tables before I leave for home, but my trainer shouldn't have signed out and left without letting me know and making sure I was doing the same. And really, it wouldn't have been as big a deal if I wasn't in a rush to pick up my kids.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
The Organ
Memories are interesting things. They float in and out of our lives, popping in when we least expect them, yet disappearing at the very moment we wish to bring it to mind. Memories are elusive and wispy like tendrils of fog in the heat of the morning sun. They can vanish for months or years only to slap us across the face unexpectedly.
Sunday afternoon, I walked in my house to find my grandpa's organ in my living room. It took me by surprise even though I knew that it would be arriving sometime that day; I just hadn't expected it so quickly. Instantly, my kids were thrilled and excited and eager to touch and play. I don't know quite how to categorize my reaction. Bittersweet, maybe.
This is the organ that I grew up hearing played by my grandpa on Sunday mornings before church every time we visited. This is the organ that I would sit at as a child and attempt to play with my unskilled hands. Pushing the various coloured buttons created a symphony of sounds and rhythms. Strings, horns, marches, rumbas, waltzes, tremelos, and so on.
Now, here the organ sits in my house with my children clamboring to play with unskilled hands. So much like their mother many years ago. And with the warmth of those memories comes the chill of knowing what is yet to come. My grandpa's organ is here because he can no longer play. He couldn't sit on the bench to play even if I begged him to. I don't even know that he would be lucid enough to remember how to play. Lastly, he no longer has a fixed address.
His apartment is now empty and cleaned and soon to belong to someone else. Grandpa won't be returning to his home or any other earthly home. More of his possessions sit in my carport waiting for my mother to sort and parcel everything out to relatives. It feels a bit like trying to decide how to cut a cake so everyone has an equal piece.
I hate having to cut cake for important functions; I'm always afraid that I'll botch the job. Cut too big at the beginning, or too small.
The organ is here for the time being. How long? I do not know. It could be for only a heartbeat of time, or it could be until it falls apart with age. I wish I knew, but I don't.
It draws my eye everytime I enter the room. I view it with the eyes of the child I used to be. My adult eyes aren't ready for the truth yet.
Sunday afternoon, I walked in my house to find my grandpa's organ in my living room. It took me by surprise even though I knew that it would be arriving sometime that day; I just hadn't expected it so quickly. Instantly, my kids were thrilled and excited and eager to touch and play. I don't know quite how to categorize my reaction. Bittersweet, maybe.
This is the organ that I grew up hearing played by my grandpa on Sunday mornings before church every time we visited. This is the organ that I would sit at as a child and attempt to play with my unskilled hands. Pushing the various coloured buttons created a symphony of sounds and rhythms. Strings, horns, marches, rumbas, waltzes, tremelos, and so on.
Now, here the organ sits in my house with my children clamboring to play with unskilled hands. So much like their mother many years ago. And with the warmth of those memories comes the chill of knowing what is yet to come. My grandpa's organ is here because he can no longer play. He couldn't sit on the bench to play even if I begged him to. I don't even know that he would be lucid enough to remember how to play. Lastly, he no longer has a fixed address.
His apartment is now empty and cleaned and soon to belong to someone else. Grandpa won't be returning to his home or any other earthly home. More of his possessions sit in my carport waiting for my mother to sort and parcel everything out to relatives. It feels a bit like trying to decide how to cut a cake so everyone has an equal piece.
I hate having to cut cake for important functions; I'm always afraid that I'll botch the job. Cut too big at the beginning, or too small.
The organ is here for the time being. How long? I do not know. It could be for only a heartbeat of time, or it could be until it falls apart with age. I wish I knew, but I don't.
It draws my eye everytime I enter the room. I view it with the eyes of the child I used to be. My adult eyes aren't ready for the truth yet.
Monday, September 12, 2005
First Day of Work
I have now completed one training shift. It was only five hours and time did fly, for the most part. However, now that I am home, my feet and lower back ache. I feel greasy and not a deep fryer in sight!
My shoes are comfortable. I did open my wallet (reluctantly, of course) for a pair of $40 shoes, but they feel nice. And, they had to be black and leather.
I guess I'm just not used to standing for five hours at a time. Really, how often does a housewife remain standing? I fold laundry sitting on my sofa. I'm not working in the kitchen all day long either. In fact, I probably spend more time at home sitting than I do standing. Even when I'm cleaning, I'm not standing for hours at a time. I suppose I'll get used to it.
I think the shift went well though. It feels like I didn't learn very much at all, but then again, I might have covered more bases than I had expected. Let's see...I learned how to clean bathrooms...just in case I didn't already know how to do that. I learned how to brew coffee and steeped tea and iced cappucinnos. I learned how to "zipper" the coffee urns; internal cleaning. I learned how to stock cups, hot chocolate and iced capp mixes, cold drinks, napkins, etc. I now know how to clean the dining room tables, wipe trays, put away clean dishes, and sign in/out.
Anyway, I survived. I did well, I think. I don't have another shift until Friday...another training shift.
My shoes are comfortable. I did open my wallet (reluctantly, of course) for a pair of $40 shoes, but they feel nice. And, they had to be black and leather.
I guess I'm just not used to standing for five hours at a time. Really, how often does a housewife remain standing? I fold laundry sitting on my sofa. I'm not working in the kitchen all day long either. In fact, I probably spend more time at home sitting than I do standing. Even when I'm cleaning, I'm not standing for hours at a time. I suppose I'll get used to it.
I think the shift went well though. It feels like I didn't learn very much at all, but then again, I might have covered more bases than I had expected. Let's see...I learned how to clean bathrooms...just in case I didn't already know how to do that. I learned how to brew coffee and steeped tea and iced cappucinnos. I learned how to "zipper" the coffee urns; internal cleaning. I learned how to stock cups, hot chocolate and iced capp mixes, cold drinks, napkins, etc. I now know how to clean the dining room tables, wipe trays, put away clean dishes, and sign in/out.
Anyway, I survived. I did well, I think. I don't have another shift until Friday...another training shift.
Wednesday, September 07, 2005
Hired!
Well, I got the job. I suppose I am excited. I'm definitely glad to have a job, and I am quite happy about working at Tim Horton's. I am a little disappointed that the hours I would much prefer are unavailable at this time, though I am trying to look at this as a silver lining. Sure, I'll be working mostly weekends, but I will have more freedom to attend day-time school functions. I'll have more free time for myself. I can work on a million and one projects at home. Maybe, just maybe, my house will be cleaner than it has ever been before.
There is the possibility of an occasional weekday shift though. I have orientation tomorrow...sizing for uniforms, filling out paperwork, that type of thing.
There is the possibility of an occasional weekday shift though. I have orientation tomorrow...sizing for uniforms, filling out paperwork, that type of thing.
Tuesday, September 06, 2005
Could This Be It?
On Sunday, I dropped off my resume at Wal-Mart as they were advertising for cashiers.
Around 10:30 this morning, I dropped off a resume at the Tim Horton's just up the road.
A little before 12pm today, as I was getting out of my van to pick Sam up from school, my cell phone rang. A number that I didn't recognize.
It was Tim Horton's calling to ask if I was available to come in for an interview tomorrow at 11am!
I am excited. As nervous as I have been about applying for and finding a job, I have been dreaming of working at TH for the past few months. Honestly, I can't think of a job more perfect for me than that.
It is a busy place, but it is an atmosphere I would be comfortable in and familiar with. If I can have the type of hours I am looking for, it will be perfect. It is close enough that I can walk to and from work.
I am really excited about this interview, although I will be extremely nervous tomorrow! I want this job. Funny, as much as I want it, I didn't think I would get it. I think that is why I delayed handing in my resume as long as I did. Kane had been telling me about all the new faces at TH, warning me that the hours I wanted might not be available anymore. But, I have an interview tomorrow.
Wal-Mart hasn't called yet...
Around 10:30 this morning, I dropped off a resume at the Tim Horton's just up the road.
A little before 12pm today, as I was getting out of my van to pick Sam up from school, my cell phone rang. A number that I didn't recognize.
It was Tim Horton's calling to ask if I was available to come in for an interview tomorrow at 11am!
I am excited. As nervous as I have been about applying for and finding a job, I have been dreaming of working at TH for the past few months. Honestly, I can't think of a job more perfect for me than that.
It is a busy place, but it is an atmosphere I would be comfortable in and familiar with. If I can have the type of hours I am looking for, it will be perfect. It is close enough that I can walk to and from work.
I am really excited about this interview, although I will be extremely nervous tomorrow! I want this job. Funny, as much as I want it, I didn't think I would get it. I think that is why I delayed handing in my resume as long as I did. Kane had been telling me about all the new faces at TH, warning me that the hours I wanted might not be available anymore. But, I have an interview tomorrow.
Wal-Mart hasn't called yet...
Back to school and a rant
The kids are all in school. There were some tense moments when I couldn't find Abby's name on the list of grade two classes. Instead, I found her name on a grade one class list! Panic set in as I wondered if the problem could be fixed before I had to take Sam to his school. It was. The mistake belonged to the secretary; she looked at the wrong section on the registration form.
Kane met Sam and I at the middle school. Sam was nervous and naturally so. We walked in the school with him, found his homeroom, introduced ourselves to his homeroom teacher, and walked around to familiarize ourselves with Sam's classes. I hope Sam feels a little more comfortable now. I'm nervous for Sam, especially after seeing how big many of the kids are compared to Sam. In the throng of the crowded hallway, Sam is easily lost. That boy needs to grow...soon.
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I have a little rant to make. I am rather annoyed with the commercialism of 'back to school' and also with the way some people complain about money.
I realize that money is relative. No matter how much you have, you complain and worry about it. Money is tight for us. We are a family of 5 living on one income. Even when I do find a part-time job, the money I bring in will not be significant. Having a parent home has been a priority for us, and so, we have made the sacrifices required to do so. We aren't as rich as many, but neither are we as poor as many. We do have a home (mortgaged) and two vehicles (old and paid for) and debt, but we have a place to live, vehicles to drive, clothes to wear, and food to eat. We are still truly blessed!
In talking with an acquaintance the other day, the subject of shoes came up. He had just bought his son new shoes for school from Sport Chek, on sale for about $50, and he was complaining about how expensive kids can be. I smiled and nodded and began my mental rant. This man has two kids. He and his wife both work. In fact, his income alone is much greater than Kane's income. We have three kids and one income. We went to Wal-Mart on Saturday and bought Casey two pairs of shoes, Sam one pair of shoes, Abby one pair of shoes, a package of underwear for Abby, and two packages of boys' socks for just under $60! Of course, my kids shoes came from Wal-Mart not Sport Chek, and they don't have a big brand name attached to them.
I don't even spend $50 on one pair of shoes for myself, let alone one of my ever-growing, shoe trashing kids. I thought I was splurging when I bought myself new sandals this year for $20, but they will last me at least another year, maybe two. The kicker is that I LOVE shoes, but you'd never know it to look in my closet.
Which brings me to the other part of my rant...commercialism. Who says that kids need to have all new clothes for the start of school? Since when did MP3 players become back to school items? I can't believe some of the commercials and advertising that I've seen. Really, kids don't need that to start school. I know. I survived all my school years without brand new clothes, designer labels, and the most expensive supplies and gear.
The start of the school year is expensive enough without heaping on all those extras. Sam's school fees and yearbook will be $60, and supplies were around $60. Casey and Abby's fees and supplies will likely be around $70 total. Sam will need an instrument for band. Oh, I didn't even include the cost of the gym shoes. The school fundraising will begin within the next couple of weeks, too. I feel like an ATM with everyone wanting money from me.
We do not have extra money for new wardrobes. If we did, my own wardrobe could use some major help. As it is, I live in the same clothes over and over, adding something new, but cheap, every once in a while. Easily 90% of my kids clothes are second-hand given to us by friends. I don't mind. My kids don't mind. My kids may not be as well dressed as many of their peers, but they have clothes to wear. Besides, my kids don't care about labels and brands. At least not yet.
Even school lunches can be expensive. Last year, I gave up the practice of sending a juice box. Instead, I bought a Rubbermaid drink box for each child and filled it with juice. I plan on doing the same thing this year. Juice boxes are convenient, but we would go through 15 boxes a week! 60 boxes a month. Even bought in a Costco-sized case, the cost would be staggering.
I don't know, or maybe I just don't get it. I grew up not having much but hand-me-downs and cheap, bare necessities. I love nice things as much as anyone else. I have dreams. I drool over expensive items that I'd really love to own. But, I don't need $50 running shoes when I can find a decent pair for $20. I don't need to buy that cute top or skirt just because it is cute, when I know that my $40 is needed for groceries. I would love to look stylish and trendy, but I don't need to be a slave to fashion. I don't need a new wardrobe just because there's a new 'hot' colour for the season. My kids don't need to be walking billboards just because all the other kids are wearing it.
Kane met Sam and I at the middle school. Sam was nervous and naturally so. We walked in the school with him, found his homeroom, introduced ourselves to his homeroom teacher, and walked around to familiarize ourselves with Sam's classes. I hope Sam feels a little more comfortable now. I'm nervous for Sam, especially after seeing how big many of the kids are compared to Sam. In the throng of the crowded hallway, Sam is easily lost. That boy needs to grow...soon.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
I have a little rant to make. I am rather annoyed with the commercialism of 'back to school' and also with the way some people complain about money.
I realize that money is relative. No matter how much you have, you complain and worry about it. Money is tight for us. We are a family of 5 living on one income. Even when I do find a part-time job, the money I bring in will not be significant. Having a parent home has been a priority for us, and so, we have made the sacrifices required to do so. We aren't as rich as many, but neither are we as poor as many. We do have a home (mortgaged) and two vehicles (old and paid for) and debt, but we have a place to live, vehicles to drive, clothes to wear, and food to eat. We are still truly blessed!
In talking with an acquaintance the other day, the subject of shoes came up. He had just bought his son new shoes for school from Sport Chek, on sale for about $50, and he was complaining about how expensive kids can be. I smiled and nodded and began my mental rant. This man has two kids. He and his wife both work. In fact, his income alone is much greater than Kane's income. We have three kids and one income. We went to Wal-Mart on Saturday and bought Casey two pairs of shoes, Sam one pair of shoes, Abby one pair of shoes, a package of underwear for Abby, and two packages of boys' socks for just under $60! Of course, my kids shoes came from Wal-Mart not Sport Chek, and they don't have a big brand name attached to them.
I don't even spend $50 on one pair of shoes for myself, let alone one of my ever-growing, shoe trashing kids. I thought I was splurging when I bought myself new sandals this year for $20, but they will last me at least another year, maybe two. The kicker is that I LOVE shoes, but you'd never know it to look in my closet.
Which brings me to the other part of my rant...commercialism. Who says that kids need to have all new clothes for the start of school? Since when did MP3 players become back to school items? I can't believe some of the commercials and advertising that I've seen. Really, kids don't need that to start school. I know. I survived all my school years without brand new clothes, designer labels, and the most expensive supplies and gear.
The start of the school year is expensive enough without heaping on all those extras. Sam's school fees and yearbook will be $60, and supplies were around $60. Casey and Abby's fees and supplies will likely be around $70 total. Sam will need an instrument for band. Oh, I didn't even include the cost of the gym shoes. The school fundraising will begin within the next couple of weeks, too. I feel like an ATM with everyone wanting money from me.
We do not have extra money for new wardrobes. If we did, my own wardrobe could use some major help. As it is, I live in the same clothes over and over, adding something new, but cheap, every once in a while. Easily 90% of my kids clothes are second-hand given to us by friends. I don't mind. My kids don't mind. My kids may not be as well dressed as many of their peers, but they have clothes to wear. Besides, my kids don't care about labels and brands. At least not yet.
Even school lunches can be expensive. Last year, I gave up the practice of sending a juice box. Instead, I bought a Rubbermaid drink box for each child and filled it with juice. I plan on doing the same thing this year. Juice boxes are convenient, but we would go through 15 boxes a week! 60 boxes a month. Even bought in a Costco-sized case, the cost would be staggering.
I don't know, or maybe I just don't get it. I grew up not having much but hand-me-downs and cheap, bare necessities. I love nice things as much as anyone else. I have dreams. I drool over expensive items that I'd really love to own. But, I don't need $50 running shoes when I can find a decent pair for $20. I don't need to buy that cute top or skirt just because it is cute, when I know that my $40 is needed for groceries. I would love to look stylish and trendy, but I don't need to be a slave to fashion. I don't need a new wardrobe just because there's a new 'hot' colour for the season. My kids don't need to be walking billboards just because all the other kids are wearing it.
Thursday, September 01, 2005
A New Family Member
Casey is in heaven!
He bought his much-longed for hamster this afternoon. The poor creature has yet to be officially named, but Casey has been calling him Speedy thus far.
He bought his much-longed for hamster this afternoon. The poor creature has yet to be officially named, but Casey has been calling him Speedy thus far.
My Precioussss
Jewelry is not something that I wear a lot of. I have a fair bit of it but not too much. I used to wear earrings all the time, and the funkier the better. Since I've had children, I seldom wear earrings anymore; I've become accustomed to having ears free of enticing objects for chubby baby fingers. Of course, my babies are long past the stage where earrings and necklaces are something to be eaten.
I wear my wedding and engagement rings all the time, taking them off only when I have a shower. The big diamond catches in my hair when I shampoo.
I have a copper bracelet from Africa that I wear frequently but not everyday. I have many pairs of earrings but wear only a few with any regularity...on special occasions.
Now, toe rings are something that I love. In the summer when my feet bask in being barefoot, free of socks and confining shoes. I shed my socks as early in spring as I can stand and keep them off as far into fall as I can bear. Funny how my naked feet can handle cold, wind, and rain during early baseball season but freeze beneath thick socks inside my heated home in the winter!
I have been sporting three toe rings this year. Two on my right foot and one on the left. Each one is special in its' own way. The two on my right were gifts from my girlfriends. The one on my left is a real silver ring that belonged to my mom when she was younger. Somehow, I don't think it was ever meant to be a toe ring, but it doesn't really fit my fingers. The ring is too small for anything but my pinkies and too big for even them.
I almost never take my toe rings off in the summer. Maybe if I absolutely need to wear socks and runners for an extended time. Then again, I might just wear them beneath it all. Occasionally, one of the rings will feel loose as if threatening to slip off, but never my silver ring. Until last night.
After supper, I made a dash to the local grocery store for yet another jug of milk and some Diet Coke with Lime to keep me fueled as I painted. When I returned home, I felt odd. Something wasn't right, but it took a few minutes to realize that my silver toe ring was gone!
I retraced my steps back to the van, carefully searching the ground all the way. Nothing. I wasn't about to go back to the store, besides I was fairly certain that I would have felt it come off there. As I walked back into the house, I felt like Gollum from the Lord of the Rings. My Precious was lost. It had abandoned me just like the Ring had abandoned Gollum.
I finished my painting. I read my book. I watched TV and put the kids to bed. My left foot felt incredibly naked, and I kept staring at the white spot on my tanned foot. And then, I spied my ring sitting on the coffee table! I slipped on my toe while asking my husband if he had found it. He claims he didn't. I never did ask the kids though.
I'm just thankful that I didn't have to traipse through Middle Earth to wrest my ring away from some usurper with big, hairy feet!
I wear my wedding and engagement rings all the time, taking them off only when I have a shower. The big diamond catches in my hair when I shampoo.
I have a copper bracelet from Africa that I wear frequently but not everyday. I have many pairs of earrings but wear only a few with any regularity...on special occasions.
Now, toe rings are something that I love. In the summer when my feet bask in being barefoot, free of socks and confining shoes. I shed my socks as early in spring as I can stand and keep them off as far into fall as I can bear. Funny how my naked feet can handle cold, wind, and rain during early baseball season but freeze beneath thick socks inside my heated home in the winter!
I have been sporting three toe rings this year. Two on my right foot and one on the left. Each one is special in its' own way. The two on my right were gifts from my girlfriends. The one on my left is a real silver ring that belonged to my mom when she was younger. Somehow, I don't think it was ever meant to be a toe ring, but it doesn't really fit my fingers. The ring is too small for anything but my pinkies and too big for even them.
I almost never take my toe rings off in the summer. Maybe if I absolutely need to wear socks and runners for an extended time. Then again, I might just wear them beneath it all. Occasionally, one of the rings will feel loose as if threatening to slip off, but never my silver ring. Until last night.
After supper, I made a dash to the local grocery store for yet another jug of milk and some Diet Coke with Lime to keep me fueled as I painted. When I returned home, I felt odd. Something wasn't right, but it took a few minutes to realize that my silver toe ring was gone!
I retraced my steps back to the van, carefully searching the ground all the way. Nothing. I wasn't about to go back to the store, besides I was fairly certain that I would have felt it come off there. As I walked back into the house, I felt like Gollum from the Lord of the Rings. My Precious was lost. It had abandoned me just like the Ring had abandoned Gollum.
I finished my painting. I read my book. I watched TV and put the kids to bed. My left foot felt incredibly naked, and I kept staring at the white spot on my tanned foot. And then, I spied my ring sitting on the coffee table! I slipped on my toe while asking my husband if he had found it. He claims he didn't. I never did ask the kids though.
I'm just thankful that I didn't have to traipse through Middle Earth to wrest my ring away from some usurper with big, hairy feet!
Wednesday, August 31, 2005
In a Different Light
My grandfather did injure himself in his fall the other day. He re-broke the same arm that he broke several weeks ago, only now it is worse. The bone is shattered, a mess. Surgery is not an option; the only way to even think of repairing the damage. He was supposed to receive some sort of splint in the ER yesterday, the first of its' kind in our hospital, but his arm was too swollen for even the largest size to fit.
Here I am: relieved that my in-laws left yesterday, paranoid about the state of our bank account, eager for school to begin, afraid of venturing into the workforce, and desperate to finish painting my living room. Life is so much more than what surrounds us, the piddly details that we think matter. How they pale in the light of eternity!
I grieve for my grandpa, even though he still draws breath, because I love him, and because I feel too much. Or something like that. Still, I do have peace in the knowledge that he has a mansion waiting for him in glory.
I go on in the mundane, because there is nothing else to do. My grandpa's is nearing his earthly end, but I am still young, still alive. I have a husband and children to raise...the kids that is. Not the husband. I have goals and dreams and plans. Somewhere, in some way, I know that God has plans for me, too.
There is no music today while I prep and paint another wall. I miss it, but the speakers had to come down in order to paint. Sometimes, silence is necessary. It allows me opportunity to think, to tackle mental problems that cannot even be considered in a noisy atmosphere. I can pray, talk to God and myself.
I do that a lot. Talk to God. Talk to myself. Of course, I only talk to myself when no one else is around. I don't want to be perceived as crazy, and some conversations are better left in private. Even between you and yourself.
Back to work now...there is much to be done. Time is ticking.
Here I am: relieved that my in-laws left yesterday, paranoid about the state of our bank account, eager for school to begin, afraid of venturing into the workforce, and desperate to finish painting my living room. Life is so much more than what surrounds us, the piddly details that we think matter. How they pale in the light of eternity!
I grieve for my grandpa, even though he still draws breath, because I love him, and because I feel too much. Or something like that. Still, I do have peace in the knowledge that he has a mansion waiting for him in glory.
I go on in the mundane, because there is nothing else to do. My grandpa's is nearing his earthly end, but I am still young, still alive. I have a husband and children to raise...the kids that is. Not the husband. I have goals and dreams and plans. Somewhere, in some way, I know that God has plans for me, too.
There is no music today while I prep and paint another wall. I miss it, but the speakers had to come down in order to paint. Sometimes, silence is necessary. It allows me opportunity to think, to tackle mental problems that cannot even be considered in a noisy atmosphere. I can pray, talk to God and myself.
I do that a lot. Talk to God. Talk to myself. Of course, I only talk to myself when no one else is around. I don't want to be perceived as crazy, and some conversations are better left in private. Even between you and yourself.
Back to work now...there is much to be done. Time is ticking.
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Quiet Once More
The in-laws left about 15 minutes ago, only about two hours later than they had planned. The visit was okay; neither as bad as could be feared, nor as good as could be hoped for. Like I told Kane at one point during the weekend, for me, I don't think there will ever be a visit with them that is perfect or good. A fine visit, a tolerable visit-yes. Not perfect. Not good.
Still, the visit was rather strange in the beginning, not seeing Pat for nearly 24 hours right off the bat. Oh well! We each did our own thing and maintained a level of personal comfort. Pat did interact more with me as the visit progressed, but we'll never be buddy-buddy. She surrounded herself with her crafts and with kids. Her daughter, my three kids, and two to three neighbour kids, depending on the day. She even took all these kids to Planet Spacewalker for a couple of hours yesterday afternoon. She's braver than I; there's no way I would have taken the neighbour children with me!
So, the house is quiet once again. No more dog barking or bird squawking. No more little five year old girl asking for food that she doesn't finish. No more noisy RV running outside my bedroom window. It wasn't a bad visit really, but I am glad to have my space back. There is much to get done before school starts, and the clock is rapidly ticking.
My grandpa fell again yesterday. The nurses didn't think that he had really hurt himself, but his sister wasn't so sure late last night. His broken arm is now swollen and hard again. I'm sure there must be more injury than noted; his bones are so brittle now.
Still, the visit was rather strange in the beginning, not seeing Pat for nearly 24 hours right off the bat. Oh well! We each did our own thing and maintained a level of personal comfort. Pat did interact more with me as the visit progressed, but we'll never be buddy-buddy. She surrounded herself with her crafts and with kids. Her daughter, my three kids, and two to three neighbour kids, depending on the day. She even took all these kids to Planet Spacewalker for a couple of hours yesterday afternoon. She's braver than I; there's no way I would have taken the neighbour children with me!
So, the house is quiet once again. No more dog barking or bird squawking. No more little five year old girl asking for food that she doesn't finish. No more noisy RV running outside my bedroom window. It wasn't a bad visit really, but I am glad to have my space back. There is much to get done before school starts, and the clock is rapidly ticking.
My grandpa fell again yesterday. The nurses didn't think that he had really hurt himself, but his sister wasn't so sure late last night. His broken arm is now swollen and hard again. I'm sure there must be more injury than noted; his bones are so brittle now.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Ding, Dong
Well, some things just don't go as planned, or as you might have hoped. Such is life. Thursday, I finished painting the big wall spanning the width of our house. At 6pm, after supper, I roused Kane off the sofa to help me move the buffet/hutch back into its' proper place, as well as the bookcase. After moving that furniture, I returned all the china and tea cups to the buffet/hutch. Kane put some re-enforcing screws in the bookcase while I washed up the supper dishes. No sooner had I finished the dishes than the doorbell rang. It was the in-laws! Kane wasn't even finished with the bookcase yet which meant that books were strewn everywhere in the living room.
Really, I rarely saw either of them yesterday. Brent finally made an appearance sometime around noon. Of course, their daughter was up early to play with her cousins in the yard and in our house. It was a strange day to have company camping in my yard but not poking a nose in to say 'hi'. As strange as it was, I didn't mind too much. It saved me from having to keep them entertained.
Pat does seem more comfortable though this morning. She actually came in the house for while, chatting and such. Her bird climbed on my shoulder and stayed there while Pat bathed her daughter. The bird was alright...until it decided to bite my chin, my ears, my finger and thumb. It didn't break the skin, but it was sharp enough to hurt.
It is now 10:35am and I am home alone with my three kids, my niece, and a neighbour child. Kane, Brent and Pat went to do a few errands together. Brent is having alternator problems with their vehicle and needs to check out a part. Pat needs to return something she bought yesterday. Kane's just hanging along for the ride. And, I am the designated child minder. Lovely.
I am looking forward to the end of summer and a return to normalcy and routine. Our two neighbour children are okay; they get along well with our kids. However, they spend so much time here that it is getting on my nerves. The doorbell rings first thing in the morning, and they play all day. Everytime we take the cover off the pool, our neighbour kids are there are like dirty shirts, even though they have their own pool. When our kids sleep out in the tent, the neighbour kids are sleeping in the tent with them. Now, our kids will probably be sleeping in Brent's camper tonight and the neighbour kids are already itching to join them. They even went so far as to tell Pat that it was okay with their parents.
I'm feeling over-saturated with the neighbour kids. Even though the kids spend most of their play time outside, I am feeling constrained, needing my own space to breathe and relax without neighbourly intrusions. I'm glad that our kids have neighbours to play with. Really, I am, and I am thankful that we have such good neighbours to interact with. Sometimes, I just need my own space for me and my family.
We had been told to expect them either late that night or midway through Friday. Six-thirty in the evening isn't late to either of us, and we were really hoping they would arrive on Friday.
Kane finished the bookcase and I went to work putting books away and tidying the living room. Thankfully, the in-laws were busy getting their camper backed into our backyard and such. By the time I went outside to visit, my sister-in-law had left to run some errands. She didn't return until after I had already come in for the night. According to her husband, she was feeling very uncomfortable around us after her phone calls of the past month or two. I saw her briefly when they first arrived, but didn't see her again until after 6pm on Friday!Really, I rarely saw either of them yesterday. Brent finally made an appearance sometime around noon. Of course, their daughter was up early to play with her cousins in the yard and in our house. It was a strange day to have company camping in my yard but not poking a nose in to say 'hi'. As strange as it was, I didn't mind too much. It saved me from having to keep them entertained.
Pat does seem more comfortable though this morning. She actually came in the house for while, chatting and such. Her bird climbed on my shoulder and stayed there while Pat bathed her daughter. The bird was alright...until it decided to bite my chin, my ears, my finger and thumb. It didn't break the skin, but it was sharp enough to hurt.
It is now 10:35am and I am home alone with my three kids, my niece, and a neighbour child. Kane, Brent and Pat went to do a few errands together. Brent is having alternator problems with their vehicle and needs to check out a part. Pat needs to return something she bought yesterday. Kane's just hanging along for the ride. And, I am the designated child minder. Lovely.
I am looking forward to the end of summer and a return to normalcy and routine. Our two neighbour children are okay; they get along well with our kids. However, they spend so much time here that it is getting on my nerves. The doorbell rings first thing in the morning, and they play all day. Everytime we take the cover off the pool, our neighbour kids are there are like dirty shirts, even though they have their own pool. When our kids sleep out in the tent, the neighbour kids are sleeping in the tent with them. Now, our kids will probably be sleeping in Brent's camper tonight and the neighbour kids are already itching to join them. They even went so far as to tell Pat that it was okay with their parents.
I'm feeling over-saturated with the neighbour kids. Even though the kids spend most of their play time outside, I am feeling constrained, needing my own space to breathe and relax without neighbourly intrusions. I'm glad that our kids have neighbours to play with. Really, I am, and I am thankful that we have such good neighbours to interact with. Sometimes, I just need my own space for me and my family.
Thursday, August 25, 2005
Singing While I Work
I've been busy working. Late last night, I washed another section of wall and filled holes. This morning, I painted that same section and added a second coat to the section I painted yesterday. That wall is looking great! Later today, I can put the second coat on today's section and move the bookcase back tomorrow morning.
It remains to be seen whether the in-laws will arrive tonight or tomorrow. I'm seriously hoping for tomorrow afternoon. It would give me time to put the living room back into order and do the last minute cleaning that was pushed aside for the painting.
I seem to have developed the habit of listening to the Temptations while I paint or go about major housework. It began last year when I painted the bathroom and the hall. This time, I'm still listening to the Temptations but also Greg Sczebel and my own mix of favourite songs. It scares Sam when I sing along, but I love it.
It remains to be seen whether the in-laws will arrive tonight or tomorrow. I'm seriously hoping for tomorrow afternoon. It would give me time to put the living room back into order and do the last minute cleaning that was pushed aside for the painting.
I seem to have developed the habit of listening to the Temptations while I paint or go about major housework. It began last year when I painted the bathroom and the hall. This time, I'm still listening to the Temptations but also Greg Sczebel and my own mix of favourite songs. It scares Sam when I sing along, but I love it.
Wednesday, August 24, 2005
Whip-it Wednesday
I feel like I've got a lash at my back. Today has been a day of busyness and running around. I hate running errands that take a big chunk of the day. Really, I'm a homebody and not big on running around period.
As it was, we did have to do several things today. First, we put some gas in the van. Then, we dropped off a receipt of sorts at a friend's jobsite. It is in an area of the city that I rarely visit, so I've delayed this task for far too long. We then drove to the Christian school to pick up Abby's class photo and her files.
After conversing with several people, I was first informed that her files had been tossed, but eventually they were found! Yeah! The program leader will be searching her previously sent emails to see if she did send me one or not. I already know that it wasn't sent to me, or at the very least, I didn't receive it. To the best of my knowledge, I haven't had any issues with my server. To be honest, I wasn't impressed with my interaction with the leader today. She did slip in a small apology towards the end of our conversation, but it really didn't carry much weight after the rest of her statements. Oh well...I got what I wanted and don't need to go back.
*I should mention that I had to go wake Casey up this morning at 9:00am! He went to bed last night at 9pm, but he is our early bird. He rarely sleeps as late as 8am. Shortly after 10am, as we were driving to the Christian school, Casey fell asleep in the van. He's been tired all day, but we don't know why.*
After leaving the school, we stopped at the hardware store to have two cans of paint re-shaken. I had bought them over a year ago when we painted the hall and foyer. This is the paint for the living room. I also picked up some tray liners and a new brush.
We left the hardware store and stopped at Sam's bank. I wanted to get a bank card for his account. I opened an account for Casey a couple of weeks ago and received a debit card for him. Of course, the boys aren't going to be carrying it around; we'll still greatly control their wallets. It will just be much simpler rather than being subject to bank hours and location. Anyway, what I thought would take only a few minutes ended up taking much, much longer. Apparently, whoever opened Casey's account made a big boo-boo! With Casey's account, and Sam's, there cannot be a bank card. So, I made the decision to change Sam's account, so that we could have such a card. We'll worry about Casey's later...depending on what the bank wants to do about it.
From the bank, we dropped off another receipt of sorts at a sports store. Both these receipts stem from the Mosquito 'A' Provincial Tournament program and advertising we received for the program. Then, it was to the grocery store for milk, toilet paper, and fruit. It seems that we can't keep milk in this house. I am quite easily buying 4 litres of milk every day. Do you think the neighbours would mind if we kept a couple of cows in the backyard?
There was only one more stop. Subway for lunch. Sam's treat-that was the only condition for stopping there. Subway is Sam's favourite place to eat, but we rarely eat there as it is too costly for a family of 5. He weighed his choices and opted to fork over the cash to satisfy his craving. We collected our order and headed for home.
In all, we were gone for about 4 hours. We had been making good time until we hit the bank. Quite literally, I believe we were there for over an hour. It was good to get back home, eat our lunch, and relax for a little bit. I read another chapter of The Hobbit to the kids, and Abby and I looked through her file.
The rest of the time I spent painting one section of wall. One coat is finished. It looks great but will need another coat yet. The next section will complete the one big, long wall connecting living and dining rooms. Now, I am in a rush to get that part done. There was a large bookcase that rested against that wall, right in the centre. I need to get that bookcase back in position again very soon, so that all the books piled and scattered around the living room can be put away. Why the hurry? We got not so good news last night.
My brother-in-law, his wife, and their daughter are coming for a few days. They'll arrive either late tomorrow night or sometime mid-Friday. I'm not particularly eager for either time, but I'm hoping it is mid-Friday. That would mean less time with Kane at work leaving me to entertain and amuse my in-laws. Thankfully, they're bringing their RV and are only planning on staying three or four days.
I'm going out tonight for my regular girls' night. It will be nice to be out with my girlfriends; we haven't done that enough this summer. However, I'm already thinking about how much work I have to do before the in-laws arrive. There's more than just painting to be done; always more when the company is people you're not fond of. If I'm not out terribly late, I am tempted to wash and prep the next section of wall, so I can paint it tomorrow.
Call me crazy, if you will. But, this might just be the spur that I need to get this project done. The sooner, the better.
As it was, we did have to do several things today. First, we put some gas in the van. Then, we dropped off a receipt of sorts at a friend's jobsite. It is in an area of the city that I rarely visit, so I've delayed this task for far too long. We then drove to the Christian school to pick up Abby's class photo and her files.
After conversing with several people, I was first informed that her files had been tossed, but eventually they were found! Yeah! The program leader will be searching her previously sent emails to see if she did send me one or not. I already know that it wasn't sent to me, or at the very least, I didn't receive it. To the best of my knowledge, I haven't had any issues with my server. To be honest, I wasn't impressed with my interaction with the leader today. She did slip in a small apology towards the end of our conversation, but it really didn't carry much weight after the rest of her statements. Oh well...I got what I wanted and don't need to go back.
*I should mention that I had to go wake Casey up this morning at 9:00am! He went to bed last night at 9pm, but he is our early bird. He rarely sleeps as late as 8am. Shortly after 10am, as we were driving to the Christian school, Casey fell asleep in the van. He's been tired all day, but we don't know why.*
After leaving the school, we stopped at the hardware store to have two cans of paint re-shaken. I had bought them over a year ago when we painted the hall and foyer. This is the paint for the living room. I also picked up some tray liners and a new brush.
We left the hardware store and stopped at Sam's bank. I wanted to get a bank card for his account. I opened an account for Casey a couple of weeks ago and received a debit card for him. Of course, the boys aren't going to be carrying it around; we'll still greatly control their wallets. It will just be much simpler rather than being subject to bank hours and location. Anyway, what I thought would take only a few minutes ended up taking much, much longer. Apparently, whoever opened Casey's account made a big boo-boo! With Casey's account, and Sam's, there cannot be a bank card. So, I made the decision to change Sam's account, so that we could have such a card. We'll worry about Casey's later...depending on what the bank wants to do about it.
From the bank, we dropped off another receipt of sorts at a sports store. Both these receipts stem from the Mosquito 'A' Provincial Tournament program and advertising we received for the program. Then, it was to the grocery store for milk, toilet paper, and fruit. It seems that we can't keep milk in this house. I am quite easily buying 4 litres of milk every day. Do you think the neighbours would mind if we kept a couple of cows in the backyard?
There was only one more stop. Subway for lunch. Sam's treat-that was the only condition for stopping there. Subway is Sam's favourite place to eat, but we rarely eat there as it is too costly for a family of 5. He weighed his choices and opted to fork over the cash to satisfy his craving. We collected our order and headed for home.
In all, we were gone for about 4 hours. We had been making good time until we hit the bank. Quite literally, I believe we were there for over an hour. It was good to get back home, eat our lunch, and relax for a little bit. I read another chapter of The Hobbit to the kids, and Abby and I looked through her file.
The rest of the time I spent painting one section of wall. One coat is finished. It looks great but will need another coat yet. The next section will complete the one big, long wall connecting living and dining rooms. Now, I am in a rush to get that part done. There was a large bookcase that rested against that wall, right in the centre. I need to get that bookcase back in position again very soon, so that all the books piled and scattered around the living room can be put away. Why the hurry? We got not so good news last night.
My brother-in-law, his wife, and their daughter are coming for a few days. They'll arrive either late tomorrow night or sometime mid-Friday. I'm not particularly eager for either time, but I'm hoping it is mid-Friday. That would mean less time with Kane at work leaving me to entertain and amuse my in-laws. Thankfully, they're bringing their RV and are only planning on staying three or four days.
I'm going out tonight for my regular girls' night. It will be nice to be out with my girlfriends; we haven't done that enough this summer. However, I'm already thinking about how much work I have to do before the in-laws arrive. There's more than just painting to be done; always more when the company is people you're not fond of. If I'm not out terribly late, I am tempted to wash and prep the next section of wall, so I can paint it tomorrow.
Call me crazy, if you will. But, this might just be the spur that I need to get this project done. The sooner, the better.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Roses are Red...and Mauve
Kane brought me roses yesterday. For our anniversary. Red and mauve for love and sincerity.
I love him! Sincerely.
I love him! Sincerely.
Venting My Spleen...who needs one anyway
I wrote a letter yesterday. It wasn't nasty or rude or spiteful, but it was rather blunt and short and honest. I hadn't wanted to write it; had even decided months ago to let go of all the binding strings that kept me wrapped up with frustrations, anger, and disappointment. After all, my involvement was supposed to have ended in June. There wasn't supposed to be a return.
Last school year, I did homeschool Abby, but she was also involved with a homeschool program through a Christian school. All my kids had been involved the year before and enjoyed it. The program gave me the opportunity to avail myself of resources and support and features that I just couldn't come up with on my own. Also, it allowed the kids to attend a "real" school one day a week.
The intent of the program is wonderful, but the execution has been flawed. It is still a fairly new program, and I am more than willing to be gracious with growing pains and stages. However, I was rather frustrated for most of last year and perturbed with Abby's contact teacher and the lack of communication, or miscommunication. I tried to go with the flow. I tried to find reasons to like Abby's teacher, but each time I began to thaw, there would be a new reason for the ice to creep back in. I didn't appreciate the appearance of double standard that existed in certain situations, and I didn't appreciate being talked down to.
I knew part way through the year that this would be our last year of homeschooling, so I kept smiling and gritting my teeth, knowing that the discomfort was temporary. School ended in the middle of June, but we still hadn't received our class photos. I emailed our contact teacher and the program leader (for lack of the proper word) about the photos. I was told that the photos had not arrived and the situation was being looked into. Fine. I could be patient.
July was crazy busy for us, and any thought of those class photos vanished from my mind until last week. I emailed the leader and, surprisingly, received a response within an hour or two. The photos had been in since the end of June! I was somewhat shocked to hear this knowing that I hadn't been informed of their arrival. I asked a friend if she had received hers. Yes, she had; at the same time as she had picked up her files. I was stunned and I felt anger rising within me like steam from a kettle. Again, I had heard absolutely nothing about picking up the files, which apparently was a designated date and time. Nothing. Not an email, a newsletter, or a phone call. I emailed the leader once again to ask about Abby's file and commented on my lack of knowledge concerning file pick-up. I was less than thrilled with the response. She would look for Abby's file, but she had tossed most of the files after the deadline for picking them up. No comment on my being unaware of a deadline.
I stewed over those emails for a little while. Everything about them bothered me. In the two years that we were in that program, I was always prompt in responding to an email from the leader or a teacher. I always picked up my stuff and returned it on time. I always expressed interest in how my children were doing or what they were doing. There was no reason to think that I wouldn't want Abby's file. I do want it. Undoubtedly, there are things within it that I have never seen but want to. I might not get that chance now.
And so, I sat on my bed and composed a letter yesterday. Two and a half pages later, I sat at the computer and composed an email to the program leader. That email was only a couple of paragraphs, but it conveyed all the meaning in the original letter that I composed. I said that I hoped she would find Abby's file but understood that if it was gone, it was gone. I went on to say how disappointed and confused and upset I was over the lack of communication over the past year. I touched on one big area of communicating problems with our teacher last year and moved onto the class photo and files. I could have said much more about our teacher, but that was neither here nor there. The communication has always been the biggest issue for me this year. I don't understand why I wasn't notified of the photos or the file pick-up dates. I asked this and vented some frustrations. Not nasty, but honest. Not harsh, but blunt.
I am not happy about this. I am upset that I may not get Abby's file. It really makes me angry that I wasn't even informed of these things. It makes me glad that I won't be involved with this program anymore. I never encountered such problems with my boys in public school last year. I may not have always understood where Casey's teacher was coming from, but he did communicate in his own way. My not understanding his methods of communication in the beginning did not hamper Casey's learning nor taint my perceptions.
Kane read my email and is proud of me. I was assertive, but I wish that hadn't been required. I hate being given the run-around. Answer my questions honestly. If I was somehow missed in the notification process, just say so. Don't ignore my question. I would still be upset at being missed but not nearly as much as having my issues ignored.
I haven't received an email in response yet. Wonder if I will. I need to go to the school to pick up Abby's photo...and hopefully her file, though I hold no real hope of that. I am loathe to drive out there, afraid that I'll run into the leader. Any spine that I have in writing quickly weakens when placed face to face. Still, I am upset and avoiding is a self-preservation instinct.
Last school year, I did homeschool Abby, but she was also involved with a homeschool program through a Christian school. All my kids had been involved the year before and enjoyed it. The program gave me the opportunity to avail myself of resources and support and features that I just couldn't come up with on my own. Also, it allowed the kids to attend a "real" school one day a week.
The intent of the program is wonderful, but the execution has been flawed. It is still a fairly new program, and I am more than willing to be gracious with growing pains and stages. However, I was rather frustrated for most of last year and perturbed with Abby's contact teacher and the lack of communication, or miscommunication. I tried to go with the flow. I tried to find reasons to like Abby's teacher, but each time I began to thaw, there would be a new reason for the ice to creep back in. I didn't appreciate the appearance of double standard that existed in certain situations, and I didn't appreciate being talked down to.
I knew part way through the year that this would be our last year of homeschooling, so I kept smiling and gritting my teeth, knowing that the discomfort was temporary. School ended in the middle of June, but we still hadn't received our class photos. I emailed our contact teacher and the program leader (for lack of the proper word) about the photos. I was told that the photos had not arrived and the situation was being looked into. Fine. I could be patient.
July was crazy busy for us, and any thought of those class photos vanished from my mind until last week. I emailed the leader and, surprisingly, received a response within an hour or two. The photos had been in since the end of June! I was somewhat shocked to hear this knowing that I hadn't been informed of their arrival. I asked a friend if she had received hers. Yes, she had; at the same time as she had picked up her files. I was stunned and I felt anger rising within me like steam from a kettle. Again, I had heard absolutely nothing about picking up the files, which apparently was a designated date and time. Nothing. Not an email, a newsletter, or a phone call. I emailed the leader once again to ask about Abby's file and commented on my lack of knowledge concerning file pick-up. I was less than thrilled with the response. She would look for Abby's file, but she had tossed most of the files after the deadline for picking them up. No comment on my being unaware of a deadline.
I stewed over those emails for a little while. Everything about them bothered me. In the two years that we were in that program, I was always prompt in responding to an email from the leader or a teacher. I always picked up my stuff and returned it on time. I always expressed interest in how my children were doing or what they were doing. There was no reason to think that I wouldn't want Abby's file. I do want it. Undoubtedly, there are things within it that I have never seen but want to. I might not get that chance now.
And so, I sat on my bed and composed a letter yesterday. Two and a half pages later, I sat at the computer and composed an email to the program leader. That email was only a couple of paragraphs, but it conveyed all the meaning in the original letter that I composed. I said that I hoped she would find Abby's file but understood that if it was gone, it was gone. I went on to say how disappointed and confused and upset I was over the lack of communication over the past year. I touched on one big area of communicating problems with our teacher last year and moved onto the class photo and files. I could have said much more about our teacher, but that was neither here nor there. The communication has always been the biggest issue for me this year. I don't understand why I wasn't notified of the photos or the file pick-up dates. I asked this and vented some frustrations. Not nasty, but honest. Not harsh, but blunt.
I am not happy about this. I am upset that I may not get Abby's file. It really makes me angry that I wasn't even informed of these things. It makes me glad that I won't be involved with this program anymore. I never encountered such problems with my boys in public school last year. I may not have always understood where Casey's teacher was coming from, but he did communicate in his own way. My not understanding his methods of communication in the beginning did not hamper Casey's learning nor taint my perceptions.
Kane read my email and is proud of me. I was assertive, but I wish that hadn't been required. I hate being given the run-around. Answer my questions honestly. If I was somehow missed in the notification process, just say so. Don't ignore my question. I would still be upset at being missed but not nearly as much as having my issues ignored.
I haven't received an email in response yet. Wonder if I will. I need to go to the school to pick up Abby's photo...and hopefully her file, though I hold no real hope of that. I am loathe to drive out there, afraid that I'll run into the leader. Any spine that I have in writing quickly weakens when placed face to face. Still, I am upset and avoiding is a self-preservation instinct.
Monday, August 22, 2005
My Little Pet Rant
I am not a card-carrying member of PETA or the SPCA or any other animal rights group. I like animals. I like pets, but I refuse to go overboard where animals are concerned.
We do have a cat which we adopted from the SPCA a few years ago. We all love her and take good care of her. In my opinion, part of taking care of her means that Maggie is an indoor cat only. The only fresh air she gets is from an open window or a trip to the vet in her carrier (which she hates!)
We used to have a dog, a bulldog, which is the type of dog I love. Sherman was a puppy and we learned that we really aren't dog owner type people. This doesn't mean we don't like dogs or enjoy their company, we just don't have the lifestyle for owning dogs. We gave Sherman back to the family that we bought him from; they were more than eager to take him back.
So, I believe in treating animals humanely and recognizing your limits, which is why my next-door neighbours annoy me. They love animals...perhaps too much. Let's see if I can remember what they have: two cats, two bunnies, a hamster, and maybe a bird or some fish. Just the other day, they had a dog which they found and were holding until the owner was located.
I don't have a problem with our neighbours owning so many pets. However, their cats and bunnies are frequently in my yard. Frankly, I don't want cats (or dogs or bunnies) using my yard as their litterbox or leaving dead mice or birds for my children to find. There is rarely a day that goes by without seeing at least one of their pets in our yard.
And then, there is the busy road just in front of our house. We live on a frontage road which shouldn't be too busy but has more traffic than it should. Only a foot or two away is a major arterial road with four lanes of speeding traffic. I have personally found a couple of dead pets in front of our yard. This morning it was one of the neighbour's bunnies.
The truly sad thing about all this is that our neighbours bury their dead pet with a funeral and promptly carry on as before. They even go to the trouble to pick out a new cat or bunny from the SPCA. Why?
Why bury a cat and then choose a new one, name it and love it, and let it run free outside? This isn't a house in the country but a house next to a busy road. If you love your pets so much, why not keep them as indoor pets? Makes sense to me.
We do have a cat which we adopted from the SPCA a few years ago. We all love her and take good care of her. In my opinion, part of taking care of her means that Maggie is an indoor cat only. The only fresh air she gets is from an open window or a trip to the vet in her carrier (which she hates!)
We used to have a dog, a bulldog, which is the type of dog I love. Sherman was a puppy and we learned that we really aren't dog owner type people. This doesn't mean we don't like dogs or enjoy their company, we just don't have the lifestyle for owning dogs. We gave Sherman back to the family that we bought him from; they were more than eager to take him back.
So, I believe in treating animals humanely and recognizing your limits, which is why my next-door neighbours annoy me. They love animals...perhaps too much. Let's see if I can remember what they have: two cats, two bunnies, a hamster, and maybe a bird or some fish. Just the other day, they had a dog which they found and were holding until the owner was located.
I don't have a problem with our neighbours owning so many pets. However, their cats and bunnies are frequently in my yard. Frankly, I don't want cats (or dogs or bunnies) using my yard as their litterbox or leaving dead mice or birds for my children to find. There is rarely a day that goes by without seeing at least one of their pets in our yard.
And then, there is the busy road just in front of our house. We live on a frontage road which shouldn't be too busy but has more traffic than it should. Only a foot or two away is a major arterial road with four lanes of speeding traffic. I have personally found a couple of dead pets in front of our yard. This morning it was one of the neighbour's bunnies.
The truly sad thing about all this is that our neighbours bury their dead pet with a funeral and promptly carry on as before. They even go to the trouble to pick out a new cat or bunny from the SPCA. Why?
Why bury a cat and then choose a new one, name it and love it, and let it run free outside? This isn't a house in the country but a house next to a busy road. If you love your pets so much, why not keep them as indoor pets? Makes sense to me.
It has been a busy morning thus far. Kane finished enclosing the carport and building some shelves. It still needs a door, but that will just have to wait. This morning, I cleared out some stuff from the kitchen, hallway, living room, and foyer and moved them into the new storage area in the carport.
So, what kind of stuff did we have cluttering up the house...camping gear, which normally isn't in the house anyway, but it was because we used it already this summer; a large sports bag of goalie equipment, which isn't ours but has yet to be picked up by the person who foisted it upon Sam last winter; baseball bags with cleats, gloves, and balls; team water bottles from baseball season; and a couple of big coolers, one ours and one my parents. I also took out a few small pieces of wood with screws half way in...I don't know what those pieces were for anyway.
With all that stuff gone, I swept and mopped floors. Sam attempted to clean the bathroom counters. He didn't do a terribly good job, but it is better than it was. All the kids picked up their junk and toys and clothes. Laundry was started. The cat litter was changed. Front steps swept. Clean dishes unloaded and dirty ones loaded. I even sanded the first coat of filler on holes and cracks in the first section of wall to be painted soon.
With all that done, what will I do for the rest of the day? Finish laundry, make supper at the appropriate time, run the dishwasher if it is full, help the boys deliver the Sears Christmas Wishbook catalogues that arrived today. I'm sure I'll be asked to keep an eye or two on the pool while the kids swim, which means that I can read or write or do some of both.
I've been writing a lot lately. Creative juices are bubbling more than they have in some time. It is good and exciting. Most of the time.
What I am reading:
Fallen Angel by Don J. Snyder
Beginning of Was by Ania Szado, a Canadian author
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
I'm just about finished...maybe we'll go to the library tomorrow.
So, what kind of stuff did we have cluttering up the house...camping gear, which normally isn't in the house anyway, but it was because we used it already this summer; a large sports bag of goalie equipment, which isn't ours but has yet to be picked up by the person who foisted it upon Sam last winter; baseball bags with cleats, gloves, and balls; team water bottles from baseball season; and a couple of big coolers, one ours and one my parents. I also took out a few small pieces of wood with screws half way in...I don't know what those pieces were for anyway.
With all that stuff gone, I swept and mopped floors. Sam attempted to clean the bathroom counters. He didn't do a terribly good job, but it is better than it was. All the kids picked up their junk and toys and clothes. Laundry was started. The cat litter was changed. Front steps swept. Clean dishes unloaded and dirty ones loaded. I even sanded the first coat of filler on holes and cracks in the first section of wall to be painted soon.
With all that done, what will I do for the rest of the day? Finish laundry, make supper at the appropriate time, run the dishwasher if it is full, help the boys deliver the Sears Christmas Wishbook catalogues that arrived today. I'm sure I'll be asked to keep an eye or two on the pool while the kids swim, which means that I can read or write or do some of both.
I've been writing a lot lately. Creative juices are bubbling more than they have in some time. It is good and exciting. Most of the time.
What I am reading:
Fallen Angel by Don J. Snyder
Beginning of Was by Ania Szado, a Canadian author
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
I'm just about finished...maybe we'll go to the library tomorrow.
Saturday, August 20, 2005
A Day of Breathing
Today was a good day. Relaxing. Enjoyable. Kane and I spent the day together. Without kids or demands for our time. We had breakfast at Denny's, walked through the mall and a few other shops around town, we went to see the movie Red Eye, we walked along the Greenway trail, we browsed through a few more shops, and had supper at Montana's. On our way home, we stopped to pick up a couple of videos.
We really didn't accomplish much of anything, but then we didn't have an agenda when we set out this morning. It was great! Sometimes, we allow life to get too busy and cluttered with needless things; things that squeeze out enjoyment and the breath of life. It is good to breathe and feel and move without care for time or obligation. We can't do this all the time, but we don't do it enough.
We really didn't accomplish much of anything, but then we didn't have an agenda when we set out this morning. It was great! Sometimes, we allow life to get too busy and cluttered with needless things; things that squeeze out enjoyment and the breath of life. It is good to breathe and feel and move without care for time or obligation. We can't do this all the time, but we don't do it enough.
Friday, August 19, 2005
Hockey Morning in Kelowna
Canadian NHL stars descended upon our fair city for three days of Olympic hockey practices...or try-outs.
As hockey fans, this was exciting news; as was the $5 ticket price per day of practice. However, like all good, cheap things, I knew that it would be difficult to get our hands on tickets. And, I was right. We had no tickets and they were sold out. I was disappointed, but Sam was even more so.
His favourite hockey player would not be in attendance being from Sweden, but there would be no shortage of well-known stars to watch. Martin Brodeur, Vincent Lecavalier, Martin St. Louis, Jarome Iginla, Joe Sakic, to name a few. Of course, if you don't watch hockey, these names mean nothing to you.
The three days of practice began on Wednesday. That night while driving home from picking up some Chinese food, I happened to hear the radio station asking for callers 6 and 12 to win a pair of tickets to the next day's practice. I was driving. I hesitated. My mind raced. At a red light, I made my decision and pulled out my cell phone. Busy. And again and again and again. At least six times I tried and it was busy. I pulled over only seconds from home to call again and again. Finally, it rang, but I was caller 11. Ugh. So close and yet not.
Last night, out of the blue, one of Kane's brothers called. It seems that he was given two tickets to today's practice and wanted to know if one of the kids wanted to go with him. Duh! I think Sam hovered above his bed last night and he sported an enormous, silly grin on his face this morning. I admit that I am a little jealous of him, but just a little. I'm much more excited for Sam to have this opportunity to see professional hockey players...athletes who he sees on TV all the time and in his hockey books and cards. This is an opportunity he may never have again.
I can't wait until he gets home to tell me all about it.
As hockey fans, this was exciting news; as was the $5 ticket price per day of practice. However, like all good, cheap things, I knew that it would be difficult to get our hands on tickets. And, I was right. We had no tickets and they were sold out. I was disappointed, but Sam was even more so.
His favourite hockey player would not be in attendance being from Sweden, but there would be no shortage of well-known stars to watch. Martin Brodeur, Vincent Lecavalier, Martin St. Louis, Jarome Iginla, Joe Sakic, to name a few. Of course, if you don't watch hockey, these names mean nothing to you.
The three days of practice began on Wednesday. That night while driving home from picking up some Chinese food, I happened to hear the radio station asking for callers 6 and 12 to win a pair of tickets to the next day's practice. I was driving. I hesitated. My mind raced. At a red light, I made my decision and pulled out my cell phone. Busy. And again and again and again. At least six times I tried and it was busy. I pulled over only seconds from home to call again and again. Finally, it rang, but I was caller 11. Ugh. So close and yet not.
Last night, out of the blue, one of Kane's brothers called. It seems that he was given two tickets to today's practice and wanted to know if one of the kids wanted to go with him. Duh! I think Sam hovered above his bed last night and he sported an enormous, silly grin on his face this morning. I admit that I am a little jealous of him, but just a little. I'm much more excited for Sam to have this opportunity to see professional hockey players...athletes who he sees on TV all the time and in his hockey books and cards. This is an opportunity he may never have again.
I can't wait until he gets home to tell me all about it.
Monday, August 15, 2005
Anniversary Plans
My wedding anniversary is in one week. August 22. Kane and I will have been married for 13 years! Our marriage has not been the stuff of fairy tales, but I can honestly say that we're doing just fine. We've had some highs and lows, but, generally, we've been pretty level. Still, I can hardly believe that thirteen years ago I was in the midst of last minute wedding preparations! In an instant, it seems both much longer and much shorter than thirteen years.
Typically, we go out for a nice dinner for our anniversary, exchange cards, and maybe a small gift. Nothing too extravagant; we can't afford extravagance anyway. Still, we've eaten well in restaurants that we'd never take our kids to.
This year, we both wanted to do something different, something more. Kane really wanted to get away for the night, but summer hotel rates are high and our funds are too low. While talking, I suggested that we could spend a day together...window shopping, walking along the beach, going for a nice lunch, basically doing things that couples do during a day together in the summer. So, that is what we are doing this Saturday.
Thankfully, my mom has that day off and can watch the kids. I was quite concerned about finding childcare for the day. I realized just how desperately I wanted this day with my husband. Looking back over the years, I can't bring to mind anytime when we've done something like this together since we've had kids. Now that the childcare issue has been settled, I can stop stressing over images of shattered plans. Instead, we can begin making loose plans for things we would like to do or places we'd like to go. The day is ours.
Typically, we go out for a nice dinner for our anniversary, exchange cards, and maybe a small gift. Nothing too extravagant; we can't afford extravagance anyway. Still, we've eaten well in restaurants that we'd never take our kids to.
This year, we both wanted to do something different, something more. Kane really wanted to get away for the night, but summer hotel rates are high and our funds are too low. While talking, I suggested that we could spend a day together...window shopping, walking along the beach, going for a nice lunch, basically doing things that couples do during a day together in the summer. So, that is what we are doing this Saturday.
Thankfully, my mom has that day off and can watch the kids. I was quite concerned about finding childcare for the day. I realized just how desperately I wanted this day with my husband. Looking back over the years, I can't bring to mind anytime when we've done something like this together since we've had kids. Now that the childcare issue has been settled, I can stop stressing over images of shattered plans. Instead, we can begin making loose plans for things we would like to do or places we'd like to go. The day is ours.
Change of Plans
I had plans to clean out my fridge today. They fell by the wayside. Instead, I moved the buffet/hutch from one side of the dining room to the other. I didn't realize it was quite that heavy, but, after some struggling and help from Casey and Abby, it is finished.
So, why did I move it? Well, I do like to re-arrange furniture from time to time, but that buffet/hutch has remained in the same place since long before I ever met Kane. Our house was Kane's childhood home, and the buffet/hutch was his mother's. We inherited both upon her death in 1997. We've made many changes, but the buffet/hutch has not been one of them.
Frankly, I prefer the buffet (I'm dropping the hutch from the rest of this post) where it has always been. It just works better there and looks better, too. However, I have plans to paint the living room walls. One of the walls extends into the dining room...the wall the buffet was against. I'm not quite ready to paint yet though I have the paint. There is lots of prep work: washing walls and patching cracks and holes and such. My aim is to start at the corner in the dining room, because that seems the least 'damaged' of the walls.
I am eager to get the painting started and, consequently, finished. School starts in three weeks, and I will be looking for a part-time job. Of course, a part-time job will mean that I will be working more than I currently do, yet still carry much the same load at home. I won't be as energetic or enthusiastic about painting then! If I can get the prep work done soon, the painting will be a breeze.
Now, I have a section of bare wall ready to attack with TSP and water, but not today. My wrist is still sore; coming up on four weeks of this tendonitis flare-up. I am tired and have been for the past three or four days. The fridge will still be here tomorrow.
So, why did I move it? Well, I do like to re-arrange furniture from time to time, but that buffet/hutch has remained in the same place since long before I ever met Kane. Our house was Kane's childhood home, and the buffet/hutch was his mother's. We inherited both upon her death in 1997. We've made many changes, but the buffet/hutch has not been one of them.
Frankly, I prefer the buffet (I'm dropping the hutch from the rest of this post) where it has always been. It just works better there and looks better, too. However, I have plans to paint the living room walls. One of the walls extends into the dining room...the wall the buffet was against. I'm not quite ready to paint yet though I have the paint. There is lots of prep work: washing walls and patching cracks and holes and such. My aim is to start at the corner in the dining room, because that seems the least 'damaged' of the walls.
I am eager to get the painting started and, consequently, finished. School starts in three weeks, and I will be looking for a part-time job. Of course, a part-time job will mean that I will be working more than I currently do, yet still carry much the same load at home. I won't be as energetic or enthusiastic about painting then! If I can get the prep work done soon, the painting will be a breeze.
Now, I have a section of bare wall ready to attack with TSP and water, but not today. My wrist is still sore; coming up on four weeks of this tendonitis flare-up. I am tired and have been for the past three or four days. The fridge will still be here tomorrow.
Sunday, August 14, 2005
Platz or Plauts
What is platz? It is, as far as I know, a Mennonite dessert made with fresh fruit of almost any sort. I was given a cookbook some years ago entitled, "Mennonite Foods & Folkways from South Russia...volume 1". This is what it says about plauts (as it is spelled in this cookbook), "Mennonite fruit Plauts-rich baking powder pastry dough enclosing fruit or berries-were probably first cousins to American pies. In fact, in the midwestern United States pie replaced the traditional fruit Plauts from Russia. 'It took less time to make,' says Tina Friesen Klassen. The most unusual feature of this dessert was its size. An American-style pie may reach a diameter of ten inches. But Plauts, Russian Mennonite-style, were huge-baked on big, black baking pans, three feet long and two feet wide, in the outdoor adobe oven. Fruit Plauts of such enormity could easily accommodate more than a dozen people. Frequently, one Plauts provided the entire meal; no other food was served."
I have both Russian and German in my background and mostly certainly Mennonite, too. That is not to say that we have ever lived as proper Mennonites, but Mennonite food is delicious whether you adhere to the folkways or not. Platz is very good with peaches or apples or plums or pears, but I think I prefer peaches. Though, I must say that as a child, I quite enjoyed my grandmother's plum platz. And, plum pie, too.
This is the recipe that I used for platz:
2 cups flour
4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 tbsp sugar
1 cup shortening
1 egg
milk
fresh fruit, peeled and sliced, such as apples, peaches, apricots, plums, pitted cherries, or rhubarb (insert a personal blech!)
Topping:
1 cup flour
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup butter
Sift flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar together. Cut in shortening. Slightly beat egg in a measuring cup. Add milk to make 1 cup. Add egg-milk mixture to flour mixture to make a soft dough (it will be sticky). Pat dough into 11x13" baking pan. Cover dough with your choice of fruit. To make crumb mixture, stir flour and sugar together, then cut in butter. Sprinkle on top of fruit. Bake at 425F for 45-60 minutes. Best served hot. Even better with vanilla ice cream!
I have both Russian and German in my background and mostly certainly Mennonite, too. That is not to say that we have ever lived as proper Mennonites, but Mennonite food is delicious whether you adhere to the folkways or not. Platz is very good with peaches or apples or plums or pears, but I think I prefer peaches. Though, I must say that as a child, I quite enjoyed my grandmother's plum platz. And, plum pie, too.
This is the recipe that I used for platz:
2 cups flour
4 tsp baking powder
1 tsp salt
1 tbsp sugar
1 cup shortening
1 egg
milk
fresh fruit, peeled and sliced, such as apples, peaches, apricots, plums, pitted cherries, or rhubarb (insert a personal blech!)
Topping:
1 cup flour
3/4 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup butter
Sift flour, baking powder, salt, and sugar together. Cut in shortening. Slightly beat egg in a measuring cup. Add milk to make 1 cup. Add egg-milk mixture to flour mixture to make a soft dough (it will be sticky). Pat dough into 11x13" baking pan. Cover dough with your choice of fruit. To make crumb mixture, stir flour and sugar together, then cut in butter. Sprinkle on top of fruit. Bake at 425F for 45-60 minutes. Best served hot. Even better with vanilla ice cream!
Saturday, August 13, 2005
Busy Bees
We're having company for dinner tonight. We don't often have company to visit or for dinner. Our company tonight is a single mom with her son and daughter. The boy was on Sam's hockey team and baseball team this year. Kane and I had entertained the idea of having them over for a barbecue all week, but it wasn't until early this morning that plans were finalized. Of course, last minute plans result in last minute cleaning and preparing.
It has been a busy, but productive, day. Kane has determined to enclose the carport-to what degree I am not completely certain. For the moment, it will be enough to store such things that we use regularly but have no room for in the house (hockey and baseball gear, camping gear, etc.) There will still be room for working on big projects, like painting the desk we bought for Abby at a yard sale last year. Why Kane decided to begin work on this today, I do not know. I suppose there really isn't any better time.
So, Kane has been working on that with a couple of trips to the hardware store and a couple of work-related service calls thrown in. I have washed nearly every single towel in my house and my bedding. I managed to corral the kids long enough to have them pick up their things from the living room and sweep the floor, take out the garbage. I went grocery shopping. The rest of my afternoon has been consumed with preparations for tonight. I've peeled and chopped veggies, made potato salad, made peach platz, washed dishes and countertops, semi-cleaned out the fridge, and made lemonade. Oh, and I made my bed with the freshly cleaned sheets and pillowcases. We really need more than one percale and one flannel sheet set for our bed!
All in all, it has been a good, busy day. I don't mind the busyness when I know that it is productive. Sometimes busyness isn't productive, and that is what I do not like.
It has been a busy, but productive, day. Kane has determined to enclose the carport-to what degree I am not completely certain. For the moment, it will be enough to store such things that we use regularly but have no room for in the house (hockey and baseball gear, camping gear, etc.) There will still be room for working on big projects, like painting the desk we bought for Abby at a yard sale last year. Why Kane decided to begin work on this today, I do not know. I suppose there really isn't any better time.
So, Kane has been working on that with a couple of trips to the hardware store and a couple of work-related service calls thrown in. I have washed nearly every single towel in my house and my bedding. I managed to corral the kids long enough to have them pick up their things from the living room and sweep the floor, take out the garbage. I went grocery shopping. The rest of my afternoon has been consumed with preparations for tonight. I've peeled and chopped veggies, made potato salad, made peach platz, washed dishes and countertops, semi-cleaned out the fridge, and made lemonade. Oh, and I made my bed with the freshly cleaned sheets and pillowcases. We really need more than one percale and one flannel sheet set for our bed!
All in all, it has been a good, busy day. I don't mind the busyness when I know that it is productive. Sometimes busyness isn't productive, and that is what I do not like.
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
Beach Boys (and girls)
We're going to the beach tomorrow. I cannot remember the last time we went to the beach for our own pleasure. We were at the beach a year ago for a ball team wind-up party and for a few days during a camping trip; otherwise, I can't recall being to the beach in the past two summers. Of course, last year, we bought our pool. And who needs a hot, crowded beach with clinging sand and algae when you have a clean, warm pool in your shaded and private backyard?
Anyway, we're going to the beach tomorrow morning, before the crowds. Hopefully. We will be meeting some of my girlfriends with children in tow. It should be fun. Personally, I don't want to go swimming. The thought of being seen in a bathing suit makes me nauseous. Besides, I am not big on swimming anyway, though I do enjoy playing in the water from time to time. This just isn't one of those times. Knowing me, I'll be too busy keeping a hawkish eye on my children and squashing squabbles and saying 'no' to requests for ice creams and pops and treats from the nearby concession. If we weren't meeting friends, I'd stay at home, letting the kids play until lunchtime, feeding them and reading another chapter in The Hobbit before letting them loose in the pool for several hours. I could sip my Diet Coke with Lime while I leisurely devoured yet another book while sitting on the deck, in the shade of the maples and patio umbrella, keeping one eye on the children.
Still, the beach will be fun.
Anyway, we're going to the beach tomorrow morning, before the crowds. Hopefully. We will be meeting some of my girlfriends with children in tow. It should be fun. Personally, I don't want to go swimming. The thought of being seen in a bathing suit makes me nauseous. Besides, I am not big on swimming anyway, though I do enjoy playing in the water from time to time. This just isn't one of those times. Knowing me, I'll be too busy keeping a hawkish eye on my children and squashing squabbles and saying 'no' to requests for ice creams and pops and treats from the nearby concession. If we weren't meeting friends, I'd stay at home, letting the kids play until lunchtime, feeding them and reading another chapter in The Hobbit before letting them loose in the pool for several hours. I could sip my Diet Coke with Lime while I leisurely devoured yet another book while sitting on the deck, in the shade of the maples and patio umbrella, keeping one eye on the children.
Still, the beach will be fun.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
Days of Summer
Sam was stung by a wasp on his finger Sunday night. He handled it very well. In fact, he had been the only one outside when it happened. He came into the house with, "Casey is such a whiner!" You see, Casey has been stung twice within the past year, and his reactions are not so stoic. Anything but calm; hysterical has been the norm. Sam did not cry or whine or fall into hysterics. He promptly took the children's antihistamine that I poured out for him, held ice to his finger, and continued to let Casey know just how much of a wimp Casey was. Brothers.
We'll be off to the library today. I have books waiting to be picked up, and the kids want to get stamps in their summer reading logs. It amazes me that the summer reading program is nearly over! It ends so early...this coming Friday. Our summer feels as if it has just begun, while summer programs are already winding down. Our church has already begun advertising for their fall kick-off Sunday in September. And here I am desperately trying to cling to these last weeks of summer.
We'll be off to the library today. I have books waiting to be picked up, and the kids want to get stamps in their summer reading logs. It amazes me that the summer reading program is nearly over! It ends so early...this coming Friday. Our summer feels as if it has just begun, while summer programs are already winding down. Our church has already begun advertising for their fall kick-off Sunday in September. And here I am desperately trying to cling to these last weeks of summer.
Sunday, August 07, 2005
Sunday Somethings
There is a wasp's nest in my lilac trees. Funny that we hadn't noticed it before. It is quite large; slightly larger than both my fists together. We've never had a wasp nest like this before. The only one that I can recall was being made in the eaves of the playhouse a year or two ago. Kane sprayed and destroyed it before it was more than a couple of inches big. The kids are forever bustling in the branches of the lilacs. We bump them as we mow the grass; never once seeing disturbed wasps in that area. Seeing where this nest is, I'm surprised by how long it remained unnoticed. It makes me shudder.
My boys pushed all the wrong buttons this afternoon. They've been working overtime, it seems, to push them all week long. Maybe even longer. I have had enough of their selfishness, disrespect, and bully behaviour. It has to stop! After they're finished playing in the pool, and Kane is finished cleaning out his van, we'll have family meeting night. It wasn't that long ago we had a similar meeting to rehash family rules and expectations. Some things bear repeating. Often. I've also got all the fixings for some banana splits. Mom shouldn't always be the tyrant.
For the moment, my head is not pounding. A headache had been building all day. I think I took some ibuprofen this morning, but honestly can't remember. I took some more shortly before supper which explains the current happy state of my head. Ever since I banged my head, I've had some degree of aching in my head. Mostly, it wasn't really that bad, but this afternoon was a full-blown headache. Maybe it was just a lack of caffeine...or not enough.
I am so glad that Kane decided to put the pool up, even if summer is half gone. The kids have barely been out of the water since we declared it ready for swimming yesterday morning. I have yet to dip even a toe into the water, and I'm not likely to for a little while yet. I'm hoping that it will warm up some more first.
My boys pushed all the wrong buttons this afternoon. They've been working overtime, it seems, to push them all week long. Maybe even longer. I have had enough of their selfishness, disrespect, and bully behaviour. It has to stop! After they're finished playing in the pool, and Kane is finished cleaning out his van, we'll have family meeting night. It wasn't that long ago we had a similar meeting to rehash family rules and expectations. Some things bear repeating. Often. I've also got all the fixings for some banana splits. Mom shouldn't always be the tyrant.
For the moment, my head is not pounding. A headache had been building all day. I think I took some ibuprofen this morning, but honestly can't remember. I took some more shortly before supper which explains the current happy state of my head. Ever since I banged my head, I've had some degree of aching in my head. Mostly, it wasn't really that bad, but this afternoon was a full-blown headache. Maybe it was just a lack of caffeine...or not enough.
I am so glad that Kane decided to put the pool up, even if summer is half gone. The kids have barely been out of the water since we declared it ready for swimming yesterday morning. I have yet to dip even a toe into the water, and I'm not likely to for a little while yet. I'm hoping that it will warm up some more first.
Friday, August 05, 2005
Painful Lessons
My head hurts. Mildly. Not the raging headache I was expecting after taking such a wallop, but enough to make sure I am I aware of its' presence. My hip hurts, too. There is only a small, dark bruise, barely the width of a pencil and only an inch or two long. Still, the whole hip is tender to the touch; the bruise must go deep. The tendonitis is still present and I now have a blister on my pointer finger on my right hand. I couldn't leave a body part out of the misery now, could I?
It was discovered last night that Sam's bike is missing. Likely stolen, but Casey's and Abby's bikes are still accounted for. Sigh. This is his second bike to disappear from our backyard, but this is the one that he will feel the most. He's older now and the brutality of theft will hit him with all its' injustices. He will need to purchase a bike to replace this one. Perhaps, he'll take more responsibility for something purchased with his own sweat and effort. Still, it is a bitter lesson to learn.
The pool is up and nearly full of water. The hoses should be able to be tucked away tonight and chlorine added. The kids will be swimming tomorrow...not a day too soon. Casey and Abby have been living in their bathing suits for most of this week, alternating their time between our neighbour's little pool and nagging Kane and I about the state of our pool. I am looking forward to enjoying the pool, even if only for a month.
It was discovered last night that Sam's bike is missing. Likely stolen, but Casey's and Abby's bikes are still accounted for. Sigh. This is his second bike to disappear from our backyard, but this is the one that he will feel the most. He's older now and the brutality of theft will hit him with all its' injustices. He will need to purchase a bike to replace this one. Perhaps, he'll take more responsibility for something purchased with his own sweat and effort. Still, it is a bitter lesson to learn.
The pool is up and nearly full of water. The hoses should be able to be tucked away tonight and chlorine added. The kids will be swimming tomorrow...not a day too soon. Casey and Abby have been living in their bathing suits for most of this week, alternating their time between our neighbour's little pool and nagging Kane and I about the state of our pool. I am looking forward to enjoying the pool, even if only for a month.
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
Things that make you go "ouch!"
Ouch! I have a bump on my head and my hip is throbbing. I can feel the hip muscles banding together into an achy, tight knot. There must also be a headache due to arrive soon. I fell this morning. Embarrassing but true. I went to sit down in our computer chair, but wound up tipping backwards chair and all. As I teetered on the brink of forward/backward motion, I made futile, desperate attempts to keep the forward momentum. I failed. I fell back, hitting the side of my head hard on the front face of the computer desk and my hip landing on the arm of the chair. The commotion was loud enough for my kids to hear and come running to investigate. As I lay on the floor in utter pain, Abby tried to stifle a giggle, Sam's eyes were wide with alarm, and Casey calmly went back to his play. Thanks kids!
There goes my plan to do some exercising this morning. It has been bad enough that my left wrist is in the grips of a tendonitis flare-up. Now, the other half of my body is in even worse pain, and stiffness is already settling in like a member of the family. My hip joints give me enough trouble; can't wait to see how bad they are over the next few days.
Of course, yesterday was my day of rest. I spent most of the day, laying on the hide-a-bed, watching my Lord of the Rings trilogy, extended edition. Today, there are things to do and places to go. Baseball is now over and life returns to some semblance of normalcy. We need to go to the library. I need to go to our daily newspaper's office to pay for a photo that I'm purchasing. http://www.kelownadailycourier.ca/gallery1/view_photo.php?set_albumName=album401&id=aca The umpire in the photo is Sam, during the Valley of Champions tournament nearly two weeks ago. Today is also a friend's birthday and anniversary. And, as always, there is housework to catch up on.
Guess I should drag my aching body out of this chair before I am permanently encased here.
There goes my plan to do some exercising this morning. It has been bad enough that my left wrist is in the grips of a tendonitis flare-up. Now, the other half of my body is in even worse pain, and stiffness is already settling in like a member of the family. My hip joints give me enough trouble; can't wait to see how bad they are over the next few days.
Of course, yesterday was my day of rest. I spent most of the day, laying on the hide-a-bed, watching my Lord of the Rings trilogy, extended edition. Today, there are things to do and places to go. Baseball is now over and life returns to some semblance of normalcy. We need to go to the library. I need to go to our daily newspaper's office to pay for a photo that I'm purchasing. http://www.kelownadailycourier.ca/gallery1/view_photo.php?set_albumName=album401&id=aca The umpire in the photo is Sam, during the Valley of Champions tournament nearly two weeks ago. Today is also a friend's birthday and anniversary. And, as always, there is housework to catch up on.
Guess I should drag my aching body out of this chair before I am permanently encased here.
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