Turning 30 and a half

Time out

2006-01-10T17:35:00.000-08:00

Unfortunately, I will be taking a break from the blogworld. Like a phoenix, I am planning to give myself a new home. One that reflects me more accurately as I begin a new year, and a new journey.

I have found this place a great way to exercise my writing and just de-stress. I have made some wonderful friends through this medium. However, I have been feeling it was time to make a change for a while. Very soon, I will have a new blog in a new place. Turning 30 and a Half was last year. It's time for a new start.

Those who wish...you know where you can find me and I will give you my forwarding address.

And your name is?

2005-12-06T08:51:00.000-08:00

From Char's site:

What does your name mean?

When I'm Sue, it's:
You are a humanitarian and idealist concerned with the welfare of
others and doing what you can to make the world a better place. A visionary with
strong intuition and wisdom you seek knowledge and have high aspirations.
Although at times preferring solitude your generous, compassionate and
understanding nature attracts many friends from all walks of life.

When I'm Susan, it's:
Charming, witty, original and idealistic you have a creative and inventive mind with great intuition. Your broad vision, perceptive powers and compassion gives you an instinctive understanding of peoples needs. You are a natural leader who has a talent for inspiring and teaching others and always display fairness, honesty and integrity. You are always seeking a new challenge for your vast creative potential.

My parents and brothers call me Susan. But my friends call me Sue. The nieces and nephews call me Auntie Sue. I pretty much answer to anything, well except Susie. Definitely not that.

Sunset on the River

2005-11-26T22:17:00.000-08:00

Snow Geese

2005-11-26T19:02:00.000-08:00

Guess what? I bought my camera. Instead of the D70, I chose the Nikon D50. It came down to the simple fact that the D50 felt more comfortable in my hands. And because of the savings in buying this model, I was able to splurge a bit with a zoom lense.

This morning, I took a walk around my neighbourhood to break it in, and was thrilled to see the Snow Geese were putting on quite a show.

Every fall, tens of thousands of these birds stop in this area on their way south. It is a breathtaking sight, to say the least and there really is nothing comparable than seeing a white mist rise off the bogs only to realize it's a huge flock of geese. The downside is that these birds make a significant amount of noise...and it's not uncommon to be woken up very early in the morning when they decide to do their fly overs. Majestic birds, none the less.

Walking down to the park, I noticed the trees had been knawed on by the resident beavers.

I tried to do some sunset photos tonight, but they didn't come out as well as I would have liked. At the moment, though, I'm still playing around with all the shiny buttons so it'll take some time to create the photos I'm home for.

In the meantime, I've jumped on the Flickr bandwagon and my site is here.

The Cenotaph

2005-11-15T21:36:00.000-08:00

When I was at the service on Friday, I was snapping away a bunch of shots and when I got home, I noticed this man in the background. In every picture, it was obvious this was very personal to him.

Tonight was the final photography course, and this was my final project. I put the three shots into the main one of the cenotaph, and am pleased with the results. Thought I'd share here.

Heartbreaking

2005-11-14T19:57:00.000-08:00

Some Soldier's Mom writes eloquently and heartbreakingly about the funeral of SPC Tommy Byrd, who served with her son, Noah.

Please take a few minutes and read it. This young man who gave his life was just so young. Born in August 1984. I will hug my nieces just a little bit closer next time I see them. They're both older than he was.

He leaves a young bride. Widowed at such a young age.

Here's another post as well worth a read - a poem written by a Canadian soldier in Afghanistan - called 'A Share of November Silence'.

365 days later

2005-11-14T12:30:00.000-08:00

It's my first blog-a-versary on Tuesday but I may not have a chance to write then. One year later. I never would have believed the fantastic people I have met through this medium, nor the change or deepening of my perspective.

I wrote two posts in July 2004 but I have decided they don't really count. It was November 15, 2004 when I began writing daily. And since then:

597 posts
23,900 visitors
Averaging 60 visitors a day
Approximately 175,000 words written

I've had the trifecta of spotlights over the past year on certain posts when I was linked through Blackfive, Instapundit and even Hugh Hewitt. I would be remiss if I didn't mention how much I appreciate being part of Brian's Weekly Roundup. Because of this, I have met some people who have become true friends - Monica, Teresa, Trucker Bob, Kyra to name a quick few.

The largest one day influx of visitors to the site was when I hosted the Red Ensign Standard in April. Slightly over 3,000 people came that day. To be honest, it actually freaked me out more than pleased me. I like my little corner of the blogosphere quiet and tidy and prefer to have a decent idea of who's checking in on me. But being part of the Red Ensign group was a great honour and I appreciate the time I spent with them. There are many friends I've met through this association as well - Rebecca, Temujin, Rue and Canadianna to name drop a little.

Having said that, it would be nice if more people commented. But then again, I'm not too concerned. If you have something to say, that would be very much appreciated. I have a decent idea from the sitemeter who most people are. In fact, I can see someone from my old work looks on here from time to time and am surprised to not know exactly who it is. I have my suspicions though. ;-)

I have been fortunate to have mostly good-hearted, warm people around who have been a fantastic source of support through the challenges of the last year. When I originally thought about writing this post, I thought I would list some of the wonderful people I now consider true friends but I am incredibly lucky to say that there are just too many kind souls out there. I am truly blessed.

However, I have had three trolls in this time who have not had the courtesy to comment publicly but instead felt the need to spread their vitriol privately in email. One unfortunately was very recent, when I commented on a friend's blog. He chose to attack me so vehemently by email, personally slandering me that I very nearly wrote to my friend to request him to somehow edit and remove my comment. But I took a deep breath and reminded myself that one of the very basic freedoms we work hard to protect is that of free opinion and free speech. This man, even as hurtful as he was, chose to exercise his. And I exercised mine by deleting his diatribe.

I have read absolutely hundred of blogs over the year, and have 157 on my blogroll that I attempt to keep up with daily. It has helped me form a much more informed decision of many of the world's issues today. People like Heidi have showed me the unbelievable grace of living through the aftermath of losing her husband in Iraq. Or Some Soldier's Mom who was a favourite read of mine, even before her son was injured by a roadside bomb. Of course, can't forget CaliValleyGirl who has been a tremendous 'soul sister' through the trials of being a military girlfriend. And not to forget, ArmyWifeToddlerMom who has brought me a lot of smiles this past year as she raises Pink Ninja and Dash. It was because of her inspiration I started giving Hayley and Alex similar pet names. These have put things in perspective for me and helped me understand what it truly means to support the people who serve to make our lives safer. I've read many blogs of those over in the sandbox, and many opinions in order to form my own. I have seen many more that have gone dark, but still miss their insight greatly (Sgt. Devore, I think of you and Wendy often).

In another vein, I read The Scruffy Dog Review blog religiously and appreciate the 'inside view' into a writer's world. Devon and Colin both have been incredibly helpful and supportive in my quest to become serious with my creative side.

Personally, this year, those that follow this blog through my bumbling effort through life have seen my rollercoaster relationship with a deployed American Naval Petty Officer crash and burn, my mother's health decline and my own health issues, my redundancy from my previous job and a few other of life's trials.

Despite the dips, this has also been an amazing year. My grandnephew was born in January, lighting up our lives more than I ever thought possible. And I have finally gotten enough confidence to believe in myself and begin to write. Whether it will take me somewhere or just fill a void in myself that I haven't given proper opportunity to before now.

Either way, I am humbled by the experience and am looking very forward to the next year. Thank you for making these past 12 months the most enlightening I've ever had the fortune to be involved in.

Finn Slough

2005-11-12T11:09:00.000-08:00

Finn Slough is a historic little community that exists in a tidal flat about 2 miles from my house. From first glance, it looks somewhat abandoned with old houses built on stilts, but a closer examination makes you see the heart and soul of this area. Inhabited now by approximately 50 fishermen and artists, the community was originally founded by Finnish immigrants in the 1890s. The history of the area is rich. Many battles over the true 'ownership' of the land, the people that live here now are dedicated to the enrichment of the area, despite controversy about the property lines.

Absolutely full of character, though, and hard not to take too many pictures walking through. In my one-hour photo jaunt, I took somewhere around 150!

When the tide is out, the boats sit dry on the stream bed. When it's like this, it's hard to believe that in just a few hours, this will be an extension of the river again.

The local residents are doing a fantastic job of restoring some of the older buildings. This picture 'Dinner Plate Island School' is part of a movie shoot, and not a working school.

Other areas are not as restored, but hold just as much beauty and intrigue.

If you'd like to know more about this area, there are some great stories of the residents here and here. And more pictures here and here.

Always Remember

2005-11-11T13:40:00.000-08:00

My niece just asked me 'How long are we supposed to remember for?', when I told her I attended this morning's ceremony. The answer is simple. Always.

Never forget. Never become complacent. These are the stories of my parent's and grandparent's generation. The new generations don't have that same bond and we need to work on making the history alive. My nieces have grown up in a world where they have never had to see a classmate go to combat, and therefore, it's something we work hard to make them understand. I tell my niece of the friends I've met over blogging who have served, and are doing so. And those that support them. I tell her - imagine your husband is at war right now, and you are raising your beautiful babies on your own. I want her to have a sense of the strength of those women - those military wives and girlfriends and not take for granted the fact that her worst issue is her husband staying out too often with the boys down at the pub.

Recently, when in the States, I had the opportunity to see a couple of soldiers returning from Iraq. In their uniforms, they were a sight to behold and the first time I had ever seen an OIF soldier in the 'flesh'. Sure, I've seen lots of pictures and even of those I actually consider friends. I felt emotional as I watched their families embrace them and those tough, young guys tear up in their arms. It was very moving.

Everyone was soaked to the skin and the CO's kept reminding their cadets to keep moving their fingers and toes, lest they lose circulation. I saw a few cadets lose their balance, and a couple instances, actually pass out but all seemed to be deeply aware of the significance of why they were.

I was happy to see many parents who did bring their children. It's important.

Richmond's Cenotaph. I'm not sure the exact number of boys we lost but these were classmates of my mother and her sisters. These are not just names to them, but living breathing friends they knew and grew up with.

Most of the names here can now be found in the form of street names in the city, but their stories are fading. James Gibbons was our link. He was my Aunt's brother-in-law and was shot down over France in World War II. He was just 19.

Ceremonies and the like

2005-11-11T12:12:00.000-08:00

IN FLANDERS FIELDS the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Think of those words today. Think of what they mean and not just the flowing poetry they are.

After my ranting this week regarding the importance of this day, I found myself drawn to the doing something a little more than usual. So this morning, I bundled myself up and went to City Hall for the Remembrance Day Ceremonies.

The weather was absolutely atrocious. Without exaggeration, there were some areas of the street that were flooded and the rain was torrential with the wind whipping it at a 45 degree angle. But as was noted those that served, and do serve, do not get the option to chose what weather they go out in.

It was a beautiful ceremony, of which I will post pictures later once my fingers start properly moving again. One speaker noted as those that served in defence of Canada during World War I, World War II and Korea become aged, we lose our personal perspective in the true sacrifice that was made. Only 5 veterans from World War I are still surviving today, and the average age of a WWII vet is 82. Now, more than ever, it is important to remember.

Those serving as Peacekeepers and in Afghanistan, as well as other posts are few and far between in Canada. We don't see the military presence as often it is in other countries, and it's easy for many to put it aside.

A few posts worthy of note today:

The story of the poem, In Flanders Field is told here.

Scotland observes Armistice Day here.

The Guardian tells the story of a 104-year old World War I veteran who was a young teenager when he served on a battleship.

Thousands gathered in the capital of Australia to observe the 87th anniversary of the Armistice Treaty, another country that had a notable absence of WWI vets at the ceremony.

In St. Louis, a French ex-pat shares his story and memories of liberation.

The origin of the two-minute silence is told here.

The mother of a soldier killed in the friendly-fire incident laid a wreath in Ottawa in honour of her son's supreme sacrifice.

A new Book of Remembrance is unveiled in Ottawa's ceremony.

John The Mad has a post up about Canada's Unknown Soldier.

North American Patriot reminds us it's a Matter of Valour.

To all veterans, no matter what country you hail from, no matter what length of your service, thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Remembering

2005-11-10T08:01:00.000-08:00

Tomorrow is Remembrance Day in Canada. It's a statutory holiday here. In the US, it's Veteran's Day and this is not a statutory holiday as they take their day in May as Memorial Day. (and if I'm wrong in understanding that, please feel free to educate me).

I will quite honest that I was like many Canadians when I took this day for granted. Sure, I wore the poppy and watched the ceremonies on TV. But a few years ago, I started to truly understand the significance of the event. When Todd came into my life, it also gave me a perspective into supporting those that served. Even though my relationship has changed, it has not changed my opinion of the military nor what they do. In fact, it has strengthened even more.

Last year was a very emotional day for me. I now had someone in my life that was serving in combat, and had become friends with quite a few others. It gave me much different view and I took a lot more pride in supporting those that served. I realized the importance of having the day to Remember. The day off that we can think of what has happened in order for us to live the life we do.

Considering this year is also the first year there will be no World War I veterans at the services in Ottawa, it becomes even more important that We Never Forget.

Growing up it was a day that made my Grandad angry. He would become very bitter and sad as it came close. My Mom would tell me to leave him alone and sure enough he would come back to himself a little while after. Now, as an adult I understand what painful memories that must have dug up for him. We remembered and were proud of him. But he lived it. Those were his friends that died beside him.

So with that in mind, I received an email yesterday from our Corporate King Of Purchasing (ok, maybe that's not his real title), who is based in Seattle, requesting all the Purchasing Managers be available for a meeting at 11am.

I emailed him back a polite note reminding him that it was a Statutory Holiday here for Remembrance Day. To which, the response was "It may be in Canada but it isn't in the US. While it may be Veteran's Day, we do not take a day off for this. That's what Memorial Day is for. I would appreciate you calling in from wherever you are."

Well, we don't have Memorial Day in Canada. Tomorrow is our day and that response bothered me greatly. My sarcastic side thought I should mentioned maybe we could reschedule to November 24 or 25th instead.

I am in a somewhat unclear position at my job. My contract currently ends January 2, 2006, and while they have made some overtures to having me here longer term, nothing concrete. This is now only 6 weeks away. Do I rock the boat here in refusing the meeting? In discussing it with other co-workers, I was surprised that they thought I was making a bigger deal than it should be.

One had remarked 'Oh, it's just a day for the Legions to make money anyhow, what's the big deal?'

I considered last night what I should do, and decided it was more important to stand up for what I believe in.

This morning, I responded to him 'Regretfully, I will not be able to participate in tomorrow's meeting due to Remembrance Day activities. I look forward meeting up with you next week to discuss these issues.'

I feel relieved. Tomorrow is a day I do intend to honour those who have served and are currently serving. In fact, I have two packages ready to mail tomorrow to my soldier through 'Angels In Camoflauge' and had held off because I wanted the postmark to reflect the day. Although, in some respects it's somewhat sad that the Post Office (which is also the 7-11) is open so that's possible.

Much needed

2005-11-08T19:57:00.000-08:00

A first tonight. Ms. Thang phoned me all on her own (well, pushed the autodial button anyhow) to say Hi.

I haven't seen the kids in 3 weeks, but it's a lifetime. Usually I'm seeing them a couple times a week, but with my cold and their colds and travel, it just hasn't happened. I'd been sitting here reading my book when the phone rang.

'Hullo....Annie Sue', a little voice said.

'Hi sweetie, you called me!'

'Yup, I wanted to read a book to you.'

Holding back a cracking voice (hey, I'm feeling sorry for myself today, what can I say?) 'It's about doggies, and kitties and then there was a cow. The horse said he wouldn't play with them. The end.'

'Okbyeloveyou', and then there was silence.

I expected her Mom to come on the phone but nothing. I waited to sounds of a rustling phone and her talking far away.

Her voice came closer and she said 'Hullo...who are you?'

'It's Auntie Sue, sweetie'

'But I said bye. You're s'posed to go now. Mommy, she won't GO!'

Then a click.

So phone manners have a bit to go yet, but hey, it's her first time actually intending to call me and doing it on her own. Gotta love it! If only she knew what perfect timing it was!

A lesson in creativity

2005-11-08T19:25:00.000-08:00

I began my third course today in Creative Writing. I have found an online course structure that has been the best so far in pushing me and teaching me in a way that has motivated me beyond anything I've ever tried before.

These courses are all offered through Ed2Go - an online school with reasonably priced 6-week syllabuses. I have used them before to learn HTML, Web Page Design, Photoshop and Digital Photography, but had shied away until now on the creative writing course load.

Since September, I've taken Write Your Life Story and am midway through Writeriffic: Creative Training for Writers.

Today, I began The Craft of Magazine Writing.

Two lessons are released each week, on Wednesday and Friday (although you can usually access them Tuesday and Thursday). There is usually a short quiz, supplementary reading and an assignment. Some assignments are quite quick and others, like this week's one very difficult.

The last assignment was to pick something out of a newspaper and write 400-500 word story based on a fictional account of the article. I couldn't for the life of me find anything in the newspaper that struck me but as I fell asleep last night, an idea came.

The result? Something I was actually quite happy with.

The picture in the paper of an elderly lady was simply titled ‘Violet May celebrated her centennial birthday amidst several friends and relatives’. There was no story. No words to honour the life that she had led.

As she sat there looking at the picture on the table, she thought to herself ‘Do they know all I’ve seen? Have I done a good enough job reminding them of road I’ve walked?’

She was born at the turn of the 20th century in a small native village called Harbledown. Violet was the child of a Da’naxda’xw woman and an Irishman who’d come to the savage world to seek a new life. In those early days, she’d played on the beach while her mother caught oolichans close by. Her brother had a cougar for a pet and they had loved that big cat they’d called ‘Polly’.

She’d been born before the Wright brothers even attempted their first flight, and when Canada was a dominion, rather than a country. She had listened to her elder’s stories in the long house, hearing the history that was her own. When she was 10, the missionaries had decided the longhouses were to be banned. No more gatherings. To think she had lived long enough to see the traditions being returned to them warmed her heart. Her great-grandchildren were being taught of the old ways.

Violet thought back on her life. She’d buried three husbands. Good, decent men. Her first love left her on the fields of Europe in World War I. She had been widowed young, with 2 small children. Her second husband was, a kind gentle soul raising her two babes, and two more before being tragically killed in a logging accident. The loggers today had it easy, she mused. They had no idea what it was like in those days. More young boys lost that way than any other, she thought sadly. By the time, World War II had ended, she’d been widowed twice and was a grandmother for the first time. That was when she met Bob. Her third and final love. She missed him so. To think they’d been married for 25 years and he’d already been gone for 30.

As she thought of the party her family had held, her heart smiled to think that at least 70 people there were her direct descendants. Her own flesh and blood. She had lived to see five generations and she felt truly blessed indeed.

It's a composite of a bunch of stories in one, so not one real person but I think I'd like to expand a bit. I can think of some interesting ways to go there.

But tonight I'm unplugging. No more NaNoWriMo (21,300!), no more anything. Just going to try to relax and read my book and try and get my feet back on the ground.

To realize

2005-11-08T08:52:00.000-08:00

To realize
The value of a sister
Ask someone
Who doesn't have one

To realize
The value of ten years:
Ask a newly
Divorced couple.

To realize
The value of four years:
Ask a graduate.

To realize
The value of one year:
Ask a student who
Has failed a final exam.

To realize
The value of nine months:
Ask a mother who gave birth to a stillborn.

To realize
The value of one month:
Ask a mother
who has given birth to
A premature baby.

To realize
The value of one week:
Ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realize
The value of one minute:
Ask a person
Who has missed the train, bus or plane.

To realize
The value of one-second:
Ask a person
Who has survived an accident.

Time waits for no one.
Treasure every moment you have.
You will treasure it even more when
you can share it with someone special.

To realize the value of a friend or family member:
LOSE ONE.

Don't try this at home

2005-11-06T13:41:00.000-08:00

For anyone still remembering the 80's fondly, here's a little reminder of the past.

The Family Door

2005-11-02T20:05:00.000-08:00

Since I was very young, I have been interested in where I came from. No, not THAT where, but the family story itself. I can remember being as young as 10, dutifully making notes on a pad what my family tree looked like.

I loved hearing the stories of my Dad's parents meeting in the shadows of Edinburgh Castle in 1910 and emigrating to Canada on the ship that sailed just before the Titanic. Or of my Mom's parents meeting during the Irish Civil War when she was an English Protestant nurse in Limerick, and he was Catholic and in the Royal Irish Constabulary. I begged my Mom to tell me of growing up on a farm in a small town without even a hospital close by. I would bug my Aunt to write down little stories about how they lived during the Depression, with my Grandmother baking cookies and shortbread to sell to the neighbours for a little extra cash, or how she would never turn away a downtrodden soul who couldn't afford to feed himself anything more than 'Ketchup Soup'.

My Mom always longed for cousins. Her parents had emigrated here and began their live in Canada, never to see their own families again. Some of the break occurred due to circumstance of the time. Ireland was a rough and complicated place during those times, and it tore a lot of families apart. Then when things settled, the sheer distance between Canada and Ireland and the rest of the British Isles was just too big. Letters were written but that gap was just too large. So we lost touch with our family overseas.

When I was in my 20s, I read a book on genealogy methods and decided to put an ad in the Cork Examiner. I figured that with my Grandfather having several sisters back home, it was likely there would be some family still left in the area.

Imagine my surprise when I received over 20 letters! The cousins in Ireland, and now scattered through England were thrilled to hear of our existence. They believed, partly through an unsubstantiated rumour, that my Grandfather had perished on the boat to Canada. A couple cousins had begun researching the tree but had no idea where to even begin in Canada.

In 1997, I travelled to England. I had been in touch with my cousin Helen in Andover, Hampshire and it had been arranged for me to meet my Grandfather's only living sister. One he had only known as a baby, as she had been born 3 years before he left home. Sadly, two weeks before I was to travel, we received word that my GrandAunt had passed. However, I was able to still meet with her daughter, Helen.

When I arrived at her home that day, I was struck with her warmth and generousity. Still griefstricken from losing her mother, she took me in as the long lost family member I was. I was amazed to walk through her house, and feel as if I was at home. The pictures on the walls bore resemblances to my own family members and she reminded me so strongly of my Mother's sister that I had to fight the urge not to call her a different name. Helen shared my same love of family history, and we found no difficulty in conversations.

Then she took me out to her backyard. There, lovingly mounted in the garden, was the family door from the Cork City home she grew up in, and my Grandfather before her. When the home was to be demolished, she insisted on having this keepsake sent to her to be kept as an heirloom.

As I touched that door, I could envision my own grandfather grasping that knob as he rushed in breathless from school as a young child. Or he and his mom sitting in front of it on the stoop, as they talked of their days. I could feel the energy from the several dozen children, from my grandfather and his 7 sisters, to their husbands, and then their children and grandchildren that had likely opened that door every day without a second thought. It was a touching and deeply moving experience.

After I returned home, Helen and I continued to write and call each other every once in a while. Then her husband became ill and she feared she would lose him. Last I heard, he was not expected to make it and she was planning to move into her son's home. I wrote her some time after that and the letter was returned. I feared the worst. Meanwhile, I was moving too. I bought my home, and as happens in moves, I lost her phone number.

Over the last few years, from time to time, I would try to look up her son's number. As the internet got more detailed, I felt it was only a matter of time until I found them again. But, their last name is a very common one and there are several hundred in the district I believed they lived in.

I've begun researching my family tree again. Partly because of the plans I have for writing, and partly because once begun, it is a project that I don't see myself ever fully letting go. Over the weekend, on GenesReunited, I noticed a familiar name. Not Helen's name, but what I believed to be her son-in-law. Seizing the chance, I wrote him. Imagine my delight when I got an email back from him with the words from Helen - "You still owe me a letter, girlie!"

Her husband survived, and they moved into a smaller home. I plan on calling her this weekend to catch up, but I am thrilled to be back in contact. She is an older version of myself. She loves the family history, but the ability to scan and share our treasures back in 1997 was somewhat limited. I can't wait to show her what I've found out since then, and I can't wait to find out what she's been up to either.

Evil Monster

2005-11-02T17:39:00.000-08:00

Thanks, Temujin!

(and on a quick update, the guy from work will be ok. He has a broken pelvis but nothing more serious, thankfully!)

Slow start today

2005-11-02T08:21:00.000-08:00

Coming back to work after last week's business trip has been beyond crazy. It's our busy season, and taking two days out of the office has left me in a neck-deep pile o' stuff. Beyond that, I have been feeling a cold coming on and I hope by sheer force of will to be scaring it off.

Last night's photography class went well, although somewhat unchallenging. We took product shots of pottery. While beautiful, I didn't find it all that rewarding. Pottery does not smile back.

Then I came home and in between watching a fantastic Law and Order: SVU, cranked out another installment on the novella. I'm up to 4,318. Now I'm starting to worry that my enthusiasm might stall out before the end. I don't really particularly like what I wrote last night, and intend to go back and redo it before adding any more. Perfectionism is a fault.

This morning, we had a bit of drama and excitement in the yard. One of our shippers was loading rail into a railcar and slipped in the dewy weather. Thrown by the force of the rail, he fell backwards and then down approximately 7 feet onto his back. He was conscious but having a lot of pain. One of my coworkers was the one to push the 'big red button' which automatically calls authorities and shuts down the plant. He's worked here 12 years and said his heart stopped for a few beats when he knew it was time to push that thing. We don't know how our guy is yet. More later, I guess.

In lieu of a proper post, I thought this email I received this morning was a nice feel-good piece and thought I'd share:

What does Love mean?

A group of professional people posed this question to a group of 4 to 8 year-olds, "What does love mean?"

The answers they got were broader and deeper than anyone could have imagined. See what you think:

________________________________

"When my grandmother got arthritis, she couldn't bend over and paint her toenails anymore.

So my grandfather does it for her all the time, even when his hands got arthritis too. That's love."

Rebecca- age 8
________________________________

"When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different.

You just know that your name is safe in their mouth."

Billy - age 4
________________________________

"Love is when a girl puts on perfume and a boy puts on shaving cologne and they go out and smell each other."

Karl - age 5
________________________________

"Love is when you go out to eat and give somebody most of your French fries without making them give you any of theirs."

Chrissy - age 6
________________________________

"Love is what makes you smile when you're tired."

Terri - age 4
________________________________

"Love is when my mommy makes coffee for my daddy and she takes a sip before giving it to him, to make sure the taste is OK."

Danny - age 7
________________________________

"Love is when you kiss all the time. Then when you get tired of kissing, you still want to be together and you talk more.
My Mommy and Daddy are like that. They look gross when they kiss"

Emily - age 8
________________________________

"Love is what's in the room with you at Christmas if you stop opening presents and listen."

Bobby - age 7 (Wow!)
________________________________

"If you want to learn to love better, you should start with a friend who you hate,"

Nikka - age 6
(we need a few million more Nikka's on this planet)
________________________________

"Love is when you tell a guy you like his shirt, then he wears it everyday."

Noelle - age 7
________________________________

"Love is like a little old woman and a little old man who are still friends even after they know each other so well."

Tommy - age 6
________________________________

"During my piano recital, I was on a stage and I was scared. I looked at all the people watching me and saw my daddy waving and smiling.

He was the only one doing that. I wasn't scared anymore."

Cindy - age 8
________________________________

"My mommy loves me more than anybody.

You don't see anyone else kissing me to sleep at night."

Clare - age 6
________________________________

"Love is when Mommy gives Daddy the best piece of chicken."

Elaine-age 5
________________________________

"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy smelly and sweaty and still says he is handsomer than Robert Redford."

Chris - age 7
________________________________

"Love is when your puppy licks your face even after you left him alone all day."

Mary Ann - age 4
________________________________

"I know my older sister loves me because she gives me all her old clothes and has to go out and buy new ones."

Lauren - age 4
________________________________

"When you love somebody, your eyelashes go up and down and little stars come out of you." (what an image)

Karen - age 7
________________________________

"Love is when Mommy sees Daddy on the toilet and she doesn't think it's gross."

Mark - age 6
________________________________

"You really shouldn't say 'I love you' unless you mean it. But if you mean it, you should say it a lot. People forget."

Jessica - age 8
________________________________

And the final one -- Author and lecturer Leo Buscaglia once talked about a contest he was asked to judge.

The purpose of the contest was to find the most caring child.

The winner was a four year old child whose next door neighbor was an elderly gentleman who had recently lost his wife.

Upon seeing the man cry, the little boy went into the old gentleman's yard, climbed onto his lap, and just sat there.

When his Mother asked what he had said to the neighbor, the little boy said,

"Nothing, I just helped him cry"
________________________________

Out of the gates...

2005-11-01T10:27:00.000-08:00

and beginning the challenge of NaNoWriMo. Am I crazy to attempt this? You betcha.

But I've got great friends also in the challenge that I'm hoping will push me along. Teresa, Charmarie and Devon to name a few. And also other 3-D friends, Lisa and Mo in England and Scotland respectively.

Out of the gate last night and taking advantage of the 3 hour time difference between here and the West Coast, I began at 9pm and finished at a word count of 2,905. Not bad for the first night!

My premise on this novel is a very simple Chick Lit thing. It's not what I want to actually do as my 'real' novel but my goal here is simply to get my feet wet and break the page fright I'm experiencing over word count.

Speaking of my real idea, I finally told my Mom about the plan. She was all for it and I'm now feeling very energetic. The premise on that is the story of our bakery while I was growing up. My Mom and her sister ruled the neighbourhood with that place for over a decade. During the day, and long before the advent of Starbucks, the bakery was the heart of the neighbourhood. My Mom and my Aunt knew all the stories of everyone in the area and made it a warm, friendly place that everyone came to chat. Even, the kids would come by after school for their free cookies and 'check in' with the 'Cookie Ladies'. But that's my goal next year once I get through some of the writing courses I'm taking, and a little more research in order to give it the voice it deserves.

Happy Hallowe'en!!!!!

2005-10-31T17:17:00.000-08:00

Some photos from Hallowe'ens past. I am dressed up tonight too...as the Evil Queen from Sleeping Beauty. If I can get someone to snap my pic later, I'll post it.

As Aunt Jemima

I was so impressed with this costume until I got to a house and was called "a cute little boy". That finished me. I would not believe that it was actually a COMPLIMENT, and a fantastic costume that they couldn't even tell it was me. Ahh, the fun of being 10.

My big brother and his wife in 1983.

My Mother always made sure at least one of my brothers accompanied me on my trails through the neighbourhood. I never could understand until much later why many doors wouldn't open to us.

Which was first?

2005-10-30T16:26:00.000-08:00

CaliValleyGirl recently posted about her memories of her first home computer, an Apple which he kept in an old refrigerator. Sounds a little funky, but go read it and it will make sense.

It made me think about our first home computer. Of course, my Dad had his 'business computer' which we were only sparingly allowed to use. It was an XT (eXtended Technology), with 640kb of memory and a 10MB hard drive. What I remember most was the monochrome orange and black screen of the monitor. I spent HOURS on that thing with a computer magazine learning Basic. If only I'd kept that talent up....but I was just a little too aware of my geekdom as a teenager so I let it go.

The next year though (1983 I believe), we got our first family computer. This was the one we were able to play games on as well as do office type work and was known as the Coleco Adam. I remember that Christmas well...seeing that HUGE 3 and a half foot long box under the tree, ripping it open to reveal the latest in computer technology.

The Adam didn't have an operating system, but came with little cassette tapes that held games, or programmes like SmartBASIC. There were some very cheezy little games like Root Beer Tapper - which you served Root Beer to customers. It also had 80KB of RAM, a daisy wheel printer (much like a typewriter but automated), and a video card capable of 16 (count 'em all!) colours. I spent absolutely hours typing out little coded programs from computer magazines of little coloured figures that would walk across the screen.

Not long after, I started babysitting for a family down the street. They had the absolute LATEST in technology, which included a modem. Just the mere thought of calling somewhere and playing a game through the telephone lines was far too amazing for my little 15-year old brain. I must have played Zork! for hours. Wait. I did. No wonder I didn't last long there as their sitter.

Soon after, I became less interested in the computer end of things and more in the teenage drama of high school. It wasn't until the internet truly came along and in 1995, I re-found my interest in computers and haven't looked back since.

Leaving the RE

2005-10-30T16:15:00.000-08:00

With much consideration, I decided last night to leave the Red Ensign Brigade. It was a decision I did not take lightly and in fact, have been wrestling with myself over for quite a few months.

I joined the group several months ago and have been very proud to be part of this amazingly profound and patriotic Canadians. The idea of the group was and is simple. To strive for a better Canada where we once again can be proud of our leadership, and our stance on the international stage.

However, I found personally my own blogging has taken a much more personal twist, and I don't have the time to properly research and write articles I would hold worthy of this group. So I am bowing out.

I have made some very good friends through this group, and hope to continue my communications with them. As for the Red Ensign Brigade, I will continue to follow it and link information from it from time to time, but I believe they deserve a stronger membership than I was prepared to give them.

With that, though, I would like to link the most recent Red Ensign Standard #30. There are roughly 50 people in this group, and many that post several times a day. Every two weeks, one member writes and hosts the Standard, which typically links at least 2 posts from each active blog with commentary. Not a small task by any means.

Which Romance Movie?

2005-10-30T14:10:00.000-08:00

"You must remember this, a kiss is still a
kiss". Your romance is Casablanca. A
classic story of love in trying times, chock
full of both cynicism and hope. You obviously
believe in true love, but you're also
constantly aware of practicality and societal
expectations. That's not always fun, but at
least it's realistic. Try not to let the Nazis
get you down too much.

What Romance Movie Best Represents Your Love Life?
brought to you by Quizilla

All Hallow's Eve

2005-10-30T08:49:00.000-08:00

If I could get my act in gear this morning, I would decorate my house with the holiday paraphrenalia in my attic. But it's raining hard, and I'm less energetic than I want to be. So I think I may just fill up the gigantic bowl of candy and start trick-or-treating in my own house today instead.

A few links I'd like to point you in the direction of this morning:

There's a Witches Ball over at Girl On The Right. Some very interesting information the famed Salem Witch Trials of 1692 and a round up of very powerful posts from the group of women known as the Cotillion.

Rue's looking for just the right purse for the occasion. Can you help?

So it's Hallowe'en again. Samhain, for some. For me, it's a hybrid of both. I like to spend a little time remembering those who I've lost to the other side in the last year. It's kinda like my own little memorial day. But with chocolate. Lots of chocolate.

I am hoping to get up to the local museum/cannery this afternoon for a ghost tour. 111 years of history. It'll probably be hokey, but I'll be very interested to hear what they tell me about my neighbourhood that I don't already know.

Have you ever had a ghostly experience? I've had a couple. Both are very moving to me and have dispelled any doubt I have of their existence.

One happened when I was in the hospital in 2003. I was in the critical care ward and the lady beside me was much worse off than I was. When she passed, her family came in and stood around her and sang beautiful hymns and songs to her. She was of Asian decent, and the songs were lulling, calming Asian words that I thought were so touching. I turned to look, and saw two younger children, an old man and a middle-aged woman around her.

When the nurse came in later to tend to her, I mentioned how beautiful her family's ceremony was to witness. She looked at me oddly and said "No one has been here today."

Sure, one could say I was very ill myself, but it was extremely real and to me, was one of the most emotional, touching and heartfelt experiences I've ever been privileged to witness.

Our Little Ham, I mean Man

2005-10-29T18:01:00.000-07:00

Upload Video at JussPress.com

Windy

2005-10-25T20:54:00.000-07:00

I'm off to Chicago in the morning and likely will not be around the blogworld for a few days. Right now, it's just been a treat to pace and stress that I won't forget anything. It's been nearly 15 months since I travelled anywhere on a plane...a record for me and my travelling bug.

The bags are packed. I'm ready to go.
Got my Ipod loaded
And the laptop just so.

Ok, never said I was a poet.

Here's a few pictures from the pumpkin patch from the weekend to keep the place looking spiffy over the next couple days.

Ms. Thang and her pumpkin. Although I must refer to her as her new name - Werewolf. She has decided she is a werewolf, plain and simple. After crawling on all fours through the mud of the pumpkin patch, I asked her what she was doing. Rolling her eyes, she huffed 'I am a WEREWOLF!' as if I was the thickest person on the planet. So I told her werewolves only come out at night, and she shouldn't crawl in the dirt until the sun goes down. Her response? Screamed at the top of her lungs with the emotion and turmoil-filled voice of a teenager, 'I'M NOCTURNAL!!!!!!!!!!!' before she got up and stomped away from me.

Alex is very happy little guy. Just bring a camera out now and he is all giggles. And apparently, pumpkins are quite hilarious when you're 10 months old.

I changed my hair colour drastically over the weekend. Went from a dark blonde to this. It's very close to my natural (although what is natural, now that I'm going grey?) and I am getting used to it, but it's taking a bit. Hayley was explaining how corn works to me while we were waiting for the hayride to arrive. Did you know that werewolves only eat corn? Who knew? Unfortunately, this little werewolf had to be picked up and carried off when she decided to bare her teeth at the Pumpkin Princess who tried to take the corn away.

The Power of A Well-Planned Complaint

2005-10-24T14:59:00.000-07:00

I met with the dentist today. It has now been two weeks since the debacle started, and while I still have some tenderness, it is mostly faded in the background.

At noon today, I had my meeting with the dentist and the owner. I had considered cancelling it about a couple hundred times over the weekend, convinced I should seek proper legal advice before going in. Then today arrived, and I didn't have a chance until it was too late to consider calling.

It went extremely well, and above my best expectations. I have been reimbursed in full for my expenses, and although they have not expressly said there was an error made, steps have been taken to ensure this does not happen again. What impressed me though is how thorough they were in researching the situation. Not only was a call made to my general doctor to discuss my health issues, but also they researched the type of diverticular disease that I have. On top of that, the dentists held a staff meeting with their crew to remind them that it is often easy to forget the focus on the individual's health, rather than the dentistry itself.

I am feeling very vindicated today.

A Walk In The Park

2005-10-23T14:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, our Photography group went to my local park. I found it a lot more difficult, as this is an area I live only steps from. My challenge was to find things in a new light and capture the feeling of this place. I always find this area beautiful, and more than that, recharging for the soul. I have hundreds, if not thousands of pictures already, and often come up to this park in the evenings for it's calming force.

The area is home to a commercial fishing port. Growing up, it was the chief industry of the area and had been for generations. Now, it's a shell of what it once was. Once the largest commercial port on the West Coast, there are only a handful of boats in service now and the industry is fraught with government regulations. Protests on the river now seem to be more common that actual fishing. Even so, there is something quietly beautiful about seeing a fisherman's boat go out to sea.

This monument, a replica of a gillnetter's needle, was dedicated to those lost at sea. It may seem a calm area from the untrained eye, but it's very unpredictable. Just two years ago, a mile form here was the Cap Rouge II tragedy. A fisherman and his family coming into Steveston, and heavily laden with fish, capsized just past Sandheads (the area where the river hits the open water causing severe currents). The mother, two young children and two family members were drowned, leaving only the father alive. It caused a lot of controversy at the time, as Coast Guard regulations forbid the divers from entering the capsized boat. This, thankfully, has now been changed.

Just past the park is the 6th Avenue Pier, which was filled with boats reading for departure yesterday. The nets remind me of stories of my childhood and I remember my grandmother explaining how important the mending of the nets were. She would spend hours bent over the weaved rope, repairing any tears and rips for my grandfather's next trip out to sea.

This view looks down into Steveston proper. The beach isn't something you'd find on any 'best beach' list, but I love coming down here in the summer with a blanket and a good book watching the traffic on the arm of the Fraser. A few times a day, big freighters will navigate their way down with the help of Marine Pilots. The Fraser River is dredged a few times a year, as there is a lot of silt that ends up at the mouth. Often the large container ships must go through a narrow channel with less than 3 feet to spare from the keel to the bottom of the river. It's amazing that more don't get hung up on the sandbars. I think I can only remember one in recent memory, and that was plainly poor planning. It was a Tall Ship that politicians had set up to go at low tide.

This area is known as Scotch Pond. Home not only to a small fleet of fishing vessels, but also a myriad of animals. Yesterday, we saw evidence of trees taken down by beaver. There are more squrrels than one can count, and skunks, eagles, seals as well. There have also been sightings of coyotes here, but other than hearing them in the night, I've never seen one myself. I live on the other side of the trees in the far background.

How much is your blog worth?

2005-10-22T23:45:00.000-07:00

Hat tip to Rebecca.

My blog is worth $46,856.82.
How much is your blog worth?

Photoshoppin'

2005-10-21T19:31:00.000-07:00

Been playing around with Photoshop online tutorials and took this picture of my grandparents walking down a Vancouver street, roughly in 1940....
And colourized it to turn into this...

My first attempt. I can see mistakes in it, but given that my mother's only comment was 'My Mother never had a green coat', it must be somewhat believable.

Uphill

2005-10-20T10:10:00.000-07:00

The last two days have been definitely better than I've had in a long time (knocking wood). I think this whole tooth thing has been colouring my health for a lot longer than I first realized and have found, once the healing started, all is much better. I have energy, a clear head and I'm even starting to feel back like my old self again.

Even still, I have a check up with the doctor tonight that's a little invasive so if anyone wants to spare some good vibes around 4:30pst I'd be very much appreciative.

Tonight, I will be going to see Andre Philippe Gagnon, a Canadian impressionist who apparently puts on quite a show. I had not heard of him before, but talking to people, sounds like it's very funny. One of his highlights is performing 'We Are The World' as a one-man show.

Photography class has been cancelled now for two weeks in a row (with the exception of the field trip) due to BC Teacher's Strike. Kids have been out of school now in what is effectively an illegal work stoppage. Education is considered an essential service in BC, but the teachers felt strongly they weren't being heard. So they walked out. The powers that be all the way up to Supreme Court have agreed the teachers must return to work before bargaining can begin, but it's at a stalemate it would seem. While I certainly understand the teachers have their issues and agree that there could definintely be improvements made (including basic necessities such as newer teaching tools and textbooks), I wholeheartedly disagree with the lawbreaking that is going on.

There is a reason education is an essential service. Children need not only education and structure, but also a safe place to go in the day. Many parents don't have the luxury of paying for childcare every day or taking the time off during the strike. The head of the teacher's organization has likened herself to Martin Luther King Jr., in her stance of breaking the law to stand up for an injustice. I fail to see the similarity.

Standing up for what you believe in is admirable and noble, without question. But if that brings you outside of the law, I'm less empathetic.

That time of year again...

2005-10-18T17:39:00.000-07:00

The leaves are turning gorgeous shades of orange and red.

The stores are full of packages of small candies to hand out.

The pumpkin patches I drive by on my way to work are brimming with bright orange gourds.

The little ones are excitedly deciding what costumes to wear for the big event.

And it's time to start medicating the dog.

I live beside a park. A great park known for the favourite hangout for kids at night. And it's firecracker time. Sure, they're illegal here but there's never been a shortage. I had them when I was a teenager - hell, I might have even sold them, but that's a story for another day. That day long ago when I nearly was arrested trying to smuggle the firecrackers across the US border. Ahh, one day of my teenage years I do not want to live over again.

Last night, the cracks started. One here. Another one there. Then rapid succession of blowing up a whole pack of Mini-Mites.

Molly has always been a bit of a timid dog. Highstrung as well. Being a border collie, she's on alert for the littlest thing. Let me tell you, there is hardly a moment when I'm not reminded that a leaf has fallen off a tree, or grass might be growing in the field.

She's gotten better though with age and more used to life's little adventurous sounds. When we first moved in here, the foghorn would have her pacing all night long, but now 6 years later, she sleeps through it. The thunderstorms would have her whining in the corner as I coaxed her through it. Now at worst, she might let out a bark to let the world know she's not pleased.

But fireworks? Yeah, not a chance. I have tried most everything I can think of. It's hard to watch and it tears at me to see what she has to go through these two weeks of the year during Fireworks season. It turns into a crescendo the closer we get to October 31. And on Hallowe'en, I don't leave the house lest she become completely panic-striken and hurt herself.

She goes to daycare during the day at a local veterinarian's office. Yeah, some might think it's excessive but I think it's money well spent. Gives her more exercise than I could ever possibly do and gives her a place to socialize. When the vet saw how stressed she got the closer we came to Hallowe'en, he prescribed Valium. She can have up to 7, and it's the same as human valium - but apparently dogs metabolize it differently.

I give it to her sparingly. Not just because I don't want her doped up, but more because of the other side effect. Like any good little addict, as she comes down, she gets the 'Munchies'.

It's bad. She's been known to try and eat boiling pasta off the stove WHILE I'm still cooking it. She will eat until she gorges herself, if I'll let her. And if there isn't food around, she will eat whatever else. Paper, cardboard, even carpet. It's the Munchies, pure and simple.

I suspect, if she could speak, she look at me with glassed-over eyes and slur 'Dude, I need a Big Mac stat.'

Luckily, it's only a very short period during the year and as soon as November begins, the neighbourhood returns to the quiet, sleepy little fishing village. Good thing too, as I don't think Betty Ford runs a canine program.

Take a Letter

2005-10-18T08:07:00.000-07:00

After my post yesterday, I decided to start jotting down some notes that I wanted in front of me when I called the dentist's office. I didn't want to stammer or sound less confident when I called.

But one thing led to another. My notes turned into sentences. My sentences paragraphs. Soon, I had a two page letter detailing the experiences of the last two years and how I am 'deeply concerned' that this was not caught earlier in August when I first complained.

I sat it aside and re-read it a couple hours later and was still fairly impressed. It was assertive, yet not aggressive. Then I sent it to a friend for proofreading. She came back with only a very minor grammar change and said it was 'well-written'.

So I sent it. I emailed the owner of the dental office.

Two hours later, I received a call from her assistant. Apparently, my letter hit the mark. I will be meeting with the owner and the dentist next Monday to discuss 'renumeration' and 'whatever it will take to make me feel comfortable again'. While I know I'm not amiss in my complaint, it felt very good to hear the apology from the dental office.

Fingers crossed, everything will go well on Monday and I will be able to move past this.

I am feeling much better today and the pain is minimal. Let's just hope this trend continues.

Red Ensign Standard #29

2005-10-17T18:52:00.000-07:00

I was remiss last week, with all the drama, in pointing out the newest edition of the Red Ensign Standard hosted by Robot Guy.

The Red Ensign Brigade is a group of patriotic Canadian bloggers who aren't afraid of speaking their minds, nor envisioning a greater country for ourselves. There are roughly 50 blogs that fly the Red Ensign, which was the Canadian flag prior to 1965. Every 2 weeks (with the exception of a summer hiatus), one of the group hosts the Red Ensign Standard to showcase the best or most thought-provoking posts from each member.

I hosted back in April. It is no small task

Check out the latest standard. It's always a good read and an interesting perspective on the world.

Getting angry

2005-10-17T10:43:00.000-07:00

While I'm still in quite a bit of discomfort, I am definitely improving. If only for the fact that I am now finding myself quite angry. Anger is always a good sign that I'm at least starting to think straight.

With that, I've decided - after talking to a few people in the dental industry - to seek legal advice. This is the second time in just over two years that something has gone seriously wrong in the dental chair. And this time, given my precarious work situation, may have had an impact on my job.

So I spent some time crafting a very detailed letter to the dentist explaining the situation from my point of view. The pain it has caused, as well as the anxiousness of not knowing if I will have another diverticular attack. The costs I have incurred over the last week is certianly not to be sneezed at, and I can only be thankful that I have good credit.

In the letter, I was very straightforward and polite. However, I am prepared to take it further if required. The sharp pain that I feel under my right eye has not gone away, although thankfully is a lot less severe than it was on my Meltdown day last Friday.

Thing is I have no idea what my next step is. The only times I've ever talked to a lawyer was during the aftermath of a car accident 20 years ago, and 10 years ago in a probate issue.

I've noticed a definite coolness from my boss this morning. Although he is cordial, I can't help but feel how disappointed he is. I've been sick for pretty much 2 months now and that does not look good for a new employee. I know if I was on his side, I certainly would not be impressed. I was frank with him this morning and explained the situation in depth, in hopes that he'd understand a lot of this is out of my control. I can only hope that's the case, but if not, so be it. I am sure I can find another job once I regain my health.

And with that, there's a tonne to do here today so I'm back to the grind.

Always A Bridesmaid

2005-10-15T20:48:00.000-07:00

Sitting here tonight, I just realized my brother Bob was married 28 years ago today. He and his wife, Karen are still very much the newlyweds they were all those years ago. My family is very unique. I never realized it until I was much older, that they are the oddity as far as statistics go and I'm the one that's likely the more 'normal'. All 4 of my brothers were fortunate enough to meet their significant others by the time they were 18, if not far earlier. They married by their 20th birthday and are all still very much married and happy to their high school sweethearts. In fact, even my cousins followed that same route. There is only one divorce in 4 generations, and that was a 6-monther back in 1974 that is still talked about in whispers.

Then there's me. Never married. No one quite knows where I fit in and have long ago stopped asking when I will meet the 'right one'. They've given up. Thankfully, I haven't. For the longest time, I thought it was me that was strange. I was the black sheep. But now I realize it's the opposite.

I'm working on a slideshow for my parents for Christmas and thought I'd pull up a few of the photos from the big event that occured nearly 3 decades ago. October 15, 1977.

As you can see, I completely idolized my big brother. He is 14 years older than me, and I remember always thinking he was the absolutely coolest big brother anyone could ever have. Back in those days, he drove a yellow convertible 'vette. I still cringe a little bit about that car. In one of my 'creative' 6 year old moments, I decide to beautify it and drew flowers on the leather seats with a black marker. Thinking about that now, it's actually pretty amazing he talks to me at all!
I was 7 when they married. I was beyond the moon with excitement to be part of the wedding ceremony and was coached within an inch of my young life, not to squirm and to 'stand like a lady' during the service. I stood so ramrod straight that my knees locked and when we had to turn to walk back down the aisle, I tripped and fell. Thankfully, Karen's brother was able to grab me before I made too much of a fool of myself.

They were the most stylin' couple back then. Well, even now for that matter. Karen was so tiny - 5' nothing and so thin you'd swear she'd fade away if she stood sideways. The wedding took place in her parents' basement. Check out the great 70's styles in the background. My other brother - in the beige vest - in the background had just married his wife - in the navy dress, only 3 weeks before. Sandi, drinking the milk, was still 18 and didn't drink alcohol yet. Hence, the milk.

The dress that Karen wore is still talked about today. We were all so impressed with the debutante, southern belle attire, but we later found out she hated it. She couldn't walk through the doorways without help and she found it completely uncomfortable. A few years after the wedding, she threw it out.

They now have 2 kids, a son and a daughter. Their daughter is the one who married last May. The son is just barely out of his teens and still thinks like one. He's under the impression that if he spends enough money to go into bankruptcy, he'll just skip the country and live on some desert island somewhere. A little more growing up to do there, I think.

Snapper

2005-10-15T14:48:00.000-07:00

I've begun a photoblog. Not a lot there yet, but will work on it over the next little while. So far, it's just mostly pictures from this morning and a few oldies but goodies.

Check it out if you have the chance.

Movin' On Up

2005-10-15T11:45:00.000-07:00

Well, 15 hours of sleep seems to have improved the situation. I'm still sore but am back at a manageable level.

Thank you all so much for your very, very kind words. Must say I could feel the air getting a little dusty in here when I read them. It means a lot to know I have such good friends reading this.

Other good news included my friend who was visiting from out of town came to visit me here. We were supposed to meet at the hotel he was staying in for dinner but when he called and found out I was in no shape to go anywhere, he wasted no time in coming by. We had a good catchup and while I always enjoy his company, more than a couple hours always reminds me why we are just friends. The man has no social skills and seemed to feel the need to spent part of his time here clipping his nails and spitting his chewing tobacco into an old Coke can. I'm proud that he and I could forge a friendship after a tumultuous 4 year relationship, but at the same time, it will never be more. Aside from poor manners, he never got the concept of my 'one at a time' dating rule, and saw nothing wrong with picking up whomever was at the ball field when he was playing.

He's getting an award today from Softball BC for his role in setting up a new team in the league that went on to win the Provincials. I'm proud of him for taking the initiative and instead of being part of the problem, being part of the solution.

In shopaholic news, I've also purchased the new Ipod - 60GB model. While I bought the Nano just three weeks ago, I thought this was a great little thing. I'm a bit peeved at Apple to bring this out less than a month later, but I guess that's marketing. I would never have bought the Nano had I known this was so close behind. But I'll have use for both. The larger one shows video, and apparently allows you to download television shows.

I spent the morning in the park with my Photography class. I didn't expect to be able to go, but woke up today and felt good enough to do a couple hours. Filled a full 512MB disk and took over 200 shots which I'll be playing around with this afternoon and will attempt to begin a photoblog of some sort.

But for now, it's time to take it easy for a bit again.

Meltdown

2005-10-14T10:57:00.000-07:00

This whole experience...Root Canal The Sequel, and the subsequent bone infection is a lot more painful than I had anticipated. I'm not doin' so good, unfortunately. The pain is definitely a lot more intense than expected and while I usually pride myself on dealing with such, this time is not going so well.

I left work this morning. After feeling the tears well up in my eyes, and not being able to keep a straight thought in my head, I realized I was doing no favours to anyone by trying to work. And unfortunately, a well-intentioned remark from a concerned family member put me into a sobbing mess. At that point, I realized it was time to pull myself out of the situation for a bit.

So I'm home. Took another dose of pain pills and am going to crash now.

If I had any energy left at all, I would definitely rip a strip off this damned dentist and their poor workmanship that has cost me not only monetarily, but so much more. Having to leave work due to sickness again never looks good and I am so worried their patience will grow thin. And of course, I had a friend coming into town this weekend that I likely won't be able to see now.

As such, blogging will be light for a bit. And I am sorry for not commenting on your blogs as often as I usually do. This week has been character-building to say the least.

NaNoWriMo

2005-10-12T21:28:00.000-07:00

So I decided to bite the bullet. I signed up for NaNoWriMo, the National Novel Writing Month contest. The idea is deceptively simple. 50,000 words in November. All about quantity, not quality. It sounds like a good way to jump start myself into something more involved.

The funny part is when I began giving myself the permission to start writing seriously, I seemed to have opened up a flood gate. I have several ideas for stories and they just keep coming. However, I have very little confidence in myself.

I've been reading a book called 'The Courage To Write'. It helps me to understand that everyone has had that fear in the beginning.

But, the stories in my head are ones I believe deserve to be told. The characters, the events and the tales need to be brought to the surface. But how can I? Do I have what it takes?

Walking into a bookstore, all I can see on the shelves are days spent and hearts emptied by authors that have arrived before me. Is there anything left to say? These people are writers. I throw words together. But are my stories interesting at all?

Apprehension enters my heart. Books are long. Easily 200 pages. Can I possibly write that much? How did others do it? I recall Isabel Allende’s words when I attended her lecture – “I just lock myself away until I’m done.” Another author remarking – “You must want to write at the exclusion of everything else”.

I want that. I want to immerse myself in the tales that entertain my thoughts. The ones I share with my friends and family beg to be turned into written prose. They’ve spoken quietly of their wish for years, each year becoming stronger than the next. Now, I feel it’s their time. These words must become stories.

Courage is not easily found, but the battle begins with the first word.

Pluggin' along

2005-10-12T20:36:00.000-07:00

As expected, I am not feeling very well today. It has been a little on the discomforting side, but I guess that's to be expected.

I came into work today for the 10am meeting, which ended up going a completely different direction than I thought. And from that moment on, my phone never stopped ringing nor my door unrevolving. I was completely exhausted by the end of the day.

Unfortunately, the news from my doctor didn't resolve my fears. After the serious incident in 2003 that nearly cost me my life from a dental appointment, I have been understandably cautious. By the time I ended up in hospital then, I had developed sepsis and very nearly did not make it. I don't say this lightly, and it's something that never leaves my mind. Since that time, I have definitely looked at life in a much more appreciative way. However, because of that situation, I am no longer able to take antibiotics. So when situations develop like this, it starts to cause a level of anxiety that I have difficulty controlling.

I called my doctor to get confirmation that I could take the antibiotics in this situation. I fully expected her to call me back and tell me to stop being melodramatic and overreacting. That did not happen. She agreed that I had no option but to take the prescription, but that it makes her very concerned. She has forwarded my file to the local hospital's emergency and given word to the Infectious Diseases doctor that I may have complications. I have his number and if at any time, I develop any of the symptoms I did in 2003, I must go to the nearest hospital immediately. Nothing like freaking me out just that little bit more.

So how easy was it to pop those pills? Knowing that they could cause me to develop life-threatening complications? Not so easy at all. It took me until nearly 3pm to gather the courage to take them and even then, I had them in my hand several times before I chickened out.

I really hate this feeling of everything always going wrong. Not to mention, most people have a very hard time accepting that I'm not some hypochondriac. This new job, of course, involves all new people who really just don't know how to take me. I was called 'Linus' today - 'A little black cloud hangs over your head all the time, doesn't it?' and by another person, a comment to the effect of 'Are you ever well?' Nothing like being kicked when you're down. I try to keep to myself as much as possible, and keep a smile on my face the rest of the time, but it's difficult. All I want to do is crawl into a hole and sleep for a week, but that's not a possibility.

Looking at the positive, these past few months of headaches may be directly related to this bone infection. Now that it's been taken care of, I can only hope that my health will greatly improve now.

I just have to remember that tomorrow will be a better day. And the one after that, better still.

Let the healing begin

2005-10-11T19:26:00.000-07:00

I'm home. I'm frozen and still chipmunk-like. No, there will not be pictures.

The good news? Well, I guess in retrospect, it was all a lot better than I expected. The tooth had become seriously infected, and apparently the previous dentist did not complete the root canal. Something about a twisted canal, but I guess that dentist didn't feel like stretching his poor little fingers when he did it the first time.

The specialist, a lovely woman with a need for Elvis to be playing while she did her work, was able to redo and properly complete the root canal - all 5 canals, I might add and was able to save the tooth. The source of the infection was also removed, but given that it has been simmering for likely over a year, it will be a few days before we can tell if it's history or not. I am to start high doses of antibiotics but given my health issues, I am still waiting for approval from my doctor before I start. Even though the dentist did not mince words - "You have an active infection in the bone. It is not an option to skip antibiotics". However, as I have ended up in ICU due to negative reactions to antibiotics, I will wait for my own doctor to make that call.

The part that really annoys me...no, that pisses me off, is that this is the tooth I had a replaced crown in August. It was originally root canal-ed (it's a word!) in 1997 and the first dentist dude missed the 5th canal that time. Then when the crown cracked this summer, my present dentist did not see the improperly sealed canal. Even though, I showed signs of sensitivity and pain.

Unfortunately, one of the downfalls of chronic pain is that you experience pain every day. It's just a part of life and to some degree, you get used to it. My tolerance for pain tends to be fairly high as a result. So, for the second time in less than a year, I am reminded that by the time I feel severe pain, it is usually serious.

Of course, my dental insurance expired in August so not only is the crown I paid 50% for only two months ago gone, now I am on the hook for 100% of today's emergency root canal and the new (and THIRD) crown. $1400. Guess that's what happens when you just start getting a budget working and feel like you're getting ahead.

Bugger.

And this is the week they're evaluating a position for me in this company. It would be a custom-made position that would see me streamlining the processes and data management for all 7 plants. Something that is a very tedious, numbers-oriented job which I would thrive on. I can get lost in the numbers and love nothing more than straight analysis. Yeah, I know...I'm weird. Tomorrow at 10am, I have a meeting with the Plant Manager that is critical, and unmissable. Not cool at all.

Nothing is simple

2005-10-11T12:44:00.000-07:00

Unfortunately, my experience in life has established that dentists are evil. Oh sure, they're nice people and mean well, but in the end, there is always something that goes wrong. A simple cavity turns into a root canal.

I had that dental work done last August and it's never felt right. Over the weekend, the pain got intense and I couldn't eat very easily. Then my right cheek puffed up like a chipmunk at harvest. Last night I couldn't sleep because of the discomfort.

So I went to the dentist an hour ago to have it checked out. Turns out there was an infection that has spread. The x-ray shows it going into the bone. Can I not have something simple? Ever? Or even just once? Queue a bunch of the dentists coming into the room to ooh and ahh over the xray, and now I'm booked into the dental specialist in the hospital in Vancouver for 4:15 today. They are hoping that they won't have to extract it. WTF is that? Ok, I'm worked up right now but I'm just so mad. And hurting. And grumpy.

Grumpy Old Men

2005-10-11T08:06:00.000-07:00

So nothing has changed. He is still grumpy, still not feeling well and getting fed up with us asking him how he is all the time. The greyness hasn't gone and Dad still looks like he's been run over with a truck.

Nothing more can be done now until he wants it. He's always been stubborn that way!

Unfortunately, I'm a bit grumpy myself today. I've been up all night with a toothache. My right cheek is swollen and I look like a chipmunk. Hopefully, I can convince the Evil Dentist Queen to take me in on an emergency basis when they open in half an hour. After last week's 5 day migraine, I am really tired of feeling the pain. Ugh. Never bloody ends.

But in good news, I've been asked to go on a business conference to Chicago at the end of the month. I suspect it will be to discuss my long-term situation with this company - although I'm not entirely convinced it is where I want to be. However, I will hear them out. The unfortunate part is that it's October 27-29, which means I won't be able to take Ms. Thang and the gang to The Great Big Boo.

More later when the Tylenol kicks in.

Being thankful

2005-10-10T10:04:00.000-07:00

The spread

My mom did a fantastic job, especially considering her health of late. We had an amazing turkey dinner with all the trimmings. She was proud of the veggies.

'You've had brocoflower, right?', she asked. The hybrid combo of broccoli and cauliflower tastes good but still makes one wonder what went into changing it.

'Well, tonight we get ORANGE brocoflower'. It tasted good, looked a little bizarre and just proves we're not on that whole organic bandwagon thing.

Alex gets his first turkey bone to chew on. Although he was much more interested in using it as a drumstick.

We all went around the table mentioning one thing we were thankful for. There is something about being surrounded by family though, that just makes us more appreciative for the every day. With my parents and my aunt in their 70s now, we know we are on precious time. None are in great health and it seems to get worse every day. My Mom's emphysema has worsened significantly this year, along with her osteoporosis. Her sister - my aunt - was diagnosed with polymyalgia rheumatica this week. It's an arthritic condition that affects the muscles, rather than the bones. Aunt J had a stroke last November, and living alone, she seems to be affected mentally as well as physically. I am going to work on getting her a computer, but I am a little concerned that I might have bitten off more than I can chew on that one.

All this over a crayon? Sibling rivalry begins early!

Unfortunately, our dinner didn't end so well. My Dad, who is our stalwart family patriarch and the one who never complains took sick during the meal. He suddenly went very grey and excused himself to bed.

Upon checking on him, he was very irritable and argumentative. I took my Aunt home soon after (being a retired nurse, she has the ingrained response to hover and think the worst when someone's ill) but came back to stay with my Mom.

He tried to get up later, but was unsteady on his feet and just really not himself. I asked him if he would like to go to the hospital but he refused for the moment. Just after midnight, he seemed to drift off into a more restful sleep and my Mom had settled enough that I went home. Haven't slept much and am very concerned this morning, but nothing has changed. He hasn't gotten worse, nor better but is still not wanting any more fuss. It's hard to explain - but this is entirely out of character for my father.

So today, I will stay close to the phone and hope that this is just a one-off odd occurrence.

The Cheesecake

2005-10-10T09:51:00.000-07:00

I found this recipe a while back and it is the best cheesecake I've ever tasted. I wish I could remember where I found the recipe so I could properly give credit where credit is due, but unfortunately that part didn't make the print-out.

Considering I actually don't care for cheesecake, it says a lot for this one where I would happily eat the entire thing if I could.

CHEESECAKE EXTRAORDINARE

Graham-Cracker Crust:
1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs
1/4 cup of melted butter
1/3 cup of sugar
3/4 tsp. salt

Stir together crust ingredients and press into 10" springform pan.

Cheesecake:
5 packages of cream cheese
2 cups of sugar
3 tbsp. flour
5 large eggs
2 egg yolks
1 tsp vanilla

Preheat oven to high (500F).

Beat cream cheese, sugar, flour with mixer until smooth. Add eggs and yolks one at a time, followed by vanilla. Beat on low until smooth and spatula down bowl between additions.

Pour over crust in springform pan. If it's full, make sure you put a pan underneath to catch drips. Fire is not fun.

Put in oven but WATCH carefully. Cook on high for 10-ish minutes until it puffs up a little bit and slightly browns. Once this happens, turn down oven temperature to 200F.

Cook at lower temp for approximately 1 hr 45 min. It will still be a little wobbly in the middle but mostly solid.

Once done, remove from oven and run a knife around the top edge to loosen. Let it sit until it cools. It should be chilled for a few hours before eating but I never have and it comes out fine.

For sauces, caramel and chocolate sauce (normally for ice cream) works well. So do fresh blueberries cooked with a little sugar and lemon juice.

Happy Thanksgiving!

2005-10-09T09:47:00.000-07:00

I'm off to help with the preparations of the Thanksgiving feast. If you're celebrating today, Happy Thanksgiving. If you're not, Happy Sunday and sorry you have to go to work tomorrow!

The Great Big Boo

2005-10-05T21:51:00.000-07:00

If anyone reading this blog doesn't realize the big (read: gigantic, huge, enormous) soft spot I have for my wee grandniece, ya haven't read enough.

Guess where we're going?

To the Great Big Boo - an indoor trick-or-treat party for the little ones. All the greats will be there - Dora, Snoopy AND Elmo. Not to mention the witches, vampires, princesses and even a werewolf.

That's especially important as Ms Thang believes she is a werewolf. Note to remember - 3 year olds shouldn't watch Harry Potter, lest they believe they are one of them.

This year's Hallowe'en festivities seem to have taken a new high. Hayley is now old enough to sort of 'get it'. On Saturday, she was like a kid on a car trip to Disneyland. 'Is it Hallowe'en now?'. No, we would tell her. And 5 minutes later, 'Can I trick or treat now?'. It went on all evening until we finally let her stand outside the door and knock. Thankfully, she hasn't quite the concept of leaving the yard without anyone with her!

So on October 29, Ms Thang, L'il Dude, their Mom and I will venture downtown to this show. I hope it's as good as it looks on the website.

The art of teaching

2005-10-05T20:56:00.000-07:00

A derelict house I pass on my commute to work

I was very much looking forward to my course on photography. I'd been taking shots for years, but mostly pointing and clicking. The f/stop, shutter speed and the rest of the lingo were and still are Greek to me.

So far, the course has been a bit of a disappointment to me. I knew I'd be somewhat advanced, given that I'd been playing around with Photoshop and doing online tutorials for a few years. However, to take the Advanced course, you must take the the Intro first.

Last week, though, as we spent the first hour just learning how to take the batteries out of our cameras and opening a file on the computer, I knew I wasn't in the right place.

The teacher is an older man, who has had many years of photography experience. I have no doubt of his talent or knowledge of the subject. But as a teacher, the gentleman needs some retraining. I did some teaching at my last job, and found - surprisingly - I really enjoyed it. There is something very rewarding about helping another person learn a new skill. But there are some techniques for teaching adult students, and I've now become a bit biased when I notice someone who doesn't teach effectively.

Looking at this house, I wonder about the family who lived here.

In this class, the teacher has repeatedly 'dumbed down' his responses. He frequently sighs loudly at questions, and if we ask something that is a little more involved than the basic skills, his reply is undoubtedly 'I don't think you need to know that.', or some variation.

I've found, especially when coaching a person on computer skills, it's helpful to try and take the fear and mystery out of a computer program. Many people - especially the older generation - have a strong distrust of the technology and it's important not to add on to that. The computer isn't going to explode, self-destruct or burst into flames if you push the wrong button. At worst, you'll freeze the machine and need to reboot. At best, you'll have learned something new.

Who last painted that green stripe around the windows? Did they know the house would be abandoned?

Last night, in class, I was asked to demonstrate the steps in cropping, colouring and setting up a picture to print.

When it came time to display the photo, the finished size was 4" x 4".

A fellow student asked 'What if I want it to be 4" x 6"?'

The teacher's reply was 'Well, you can't do that.'

I corrected him, and said, while you can, the result wouldn't be too pleasing. The teacher interjected and said 'I don't want these people knowing that'.

A bit disappointed in his answer, I set up the photo to a 4" x 6" to show the class why it's not a good idea to change the scale of the photo. Instead of confused looks, the rest of the students seemed to understand that it was more a matter of 'shouldn't' rather than 'can't'.

I should mention, though, the teacher and I do get along rather well. He has asked me to help a few of the students and I know that if I am patient, I will learn from him. And I hope I'm not coming across in this post as a know-it-all prat. Certainly not that, but just that I can see room for improvement.

That'd be about right...

2005-10-05T19:52:00.000-07:00

You speak eloquently and have seemingly read every book ever published. You are a fountain of
endless (sometimes useless) knowledge, and never fail to impress at a party.
What people love: You can answer almost any question people ask, and have thus been
nicknamed Jeeves.
What people hate: You constantly correct their grammar and insult their paperbacks.

What Kind of Elitist Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

That'd be about right. My most favourite room in my house is my library. Wall to wall books. I spent hours this weekend reorganizing my bookcases and it feels almost 'zen' in there right now. From a young child, I've always treasured books....and admired library rooms, with elegant wooden shelves. There's something that just feeds my OCD well in the works that line the each row.

Arachnidophobe

2005-10-04T17:48:00.000-07:00

I have always been phobic of spiders. Even just typing that word makes my skin crawl. But as I find myself getting older, instead of getting better, it gets worse.

I am often found while walking to my car in the morning, doing the 'pope walk'. I wave my arm in front of me in a screwed-up chest cross as I fight off any possible webs. Whether there are or not, the thought alone is enough for me to walk rather nervously in the morning.

One morning, I didn't. I walked right into a garden spider. I could see it hanging from the side of my hair, out of the corner of my eye. It's gangly orange legs giving me some sort of 8-legged salute in jest as I screamed, very unladylike around my carport. If that wasn't enough, once I became conscious of my surroundings again, I was greeted by some neighbours out walking their dog and staring at me like I had grown horns. People, did you not see the beast hanging off the side of my head? Even upon explaining, they seemed to not quite understand.

I have good reason. My brothers were full of practical jokes designed to drive their baby sister insane. On at least two occassions, I can remember them dropping monstrous wolf spiders on my head. Only later, when we were adults (or at least some of us were) they laughed and admitted it was in cold blood. They would feed these demons until they got to a decent size, collecting flies and the like in order to scare the neighbourhood girls. I was just their local prey.

When I was 6, a tarantula ran over my foot in California. I remember the feeling on my bare foot to this day and even typing this, I can feel the bile rising in my throat.

I try to rationalize. I tell myself it is only an insect with 8 legs. It's more scared of me than I am of it (yeah, right!). But when push comes to shove, and I'm faced with the real thing, primary fear takes over. It is not something controllable.

Only once was I able to overcome this. In Northern California, my cousin owns a large ranch. We had just been warned of the poisonous trap door spiders, and walking along, my friend accidently stepped on a nest. She has the same feeling as I do, and she froze. Fully. Completely froze. I had the presence of mind to push her away from things, and break her paralysis. But soon after, I began to shake. Like I said, this is not a controllable reaction.

Last night, I had to go to a friend's house to look after her cats while she's out of town. Thinking nothing of it, I had planned to go alone. My mother reminded me that I'd be going late and long after the sun set, and wanted to accompany me on my drive. I thought she was being silly, but in the end, decided it would be nice to have some company on the hour-plus drive.

Driving down the long driveway, I was struck at exactly how dark the house was. My friend lives in a very rural area, on 1/2 an acre of forested land. The key was hidden in the shed, and as I tried to climb up to the spot expected, I was faced with two of the largest brown beasts I'd seen in some time.

I felt truly nauseated. The cats were inside...I had no option but get that key, but to do it, I had to pass two spiders with spans over 3". Spiders that were none too pleased with my entry into their quiet neighbourhood and were running from one end of their webs to the other.

Telling myself to face my fear, I ducked and got the key. I did my duty, and now 24 hours later, I am still feeling squeamish. My mom described my reaction as one who had just seen a horrific car crash. I went from red, to white, to a pasty grey. Then the shaking started. All I remember is telling myself not to lose my dinner.

From what I gather, those without true phobias have no understanding of how traumatizing it can be. Hell, my brothers still laugh when I talk about it. A friend of mine takes delight (or maybe she truly doesn't realize) in telling stories about them, until I must leave the room.

The best part? I need to go back to check on the cats tomorrow night. It will be in the dark again, and well, I'll be bringing a big stick and Raid.

So sad

2005-10-04T17:43:00.000-07:00

This story broke my heart.

An 11 year old girl committed suicide in Edmonton with her puppy's leash. The news article focusses on the fact that her father had just been arrested, but the line that got me was -

Her family says the final straw for Kathleen Beardy, who suffered teasing and bullying from neighbourhood youths, appears to have been when her puppy was taken by a group of neighbourhood boys on Saturday night.

"They told her they were going to keep the dog and they left. It was just a fat little puppy," said Katherine Beardy.

After the boys took her dog, she used its leash to end her life in a back lane.

Instead of blaming the police, what about these young punks that would do this to a distraught little girl?

Her death - which was witnessed by her best friend who tried in vain to cut her down from the tree

Then there is this little girl, who seeing her friend die, will never be the same.

A tragedy all around.

What does your birthday mean?

2005-10-03T09:22:00.000-07:00

Your Birthdate: September 22

While sometimes employing unorthodox approaches, you are capable of handling large scale undertakings.
You assume great responsibility and work long and hard toward completion.
Often, especially in the early part of life, there is rigidity or stubbornness, and a tendency to repress feelings.

Idealistic, you work for the greater good with a good deal of inner strength and charisma.
An extremely capable organizer, but likely to paint with broad strokes rather than detail.
You are very aware and intuitive.
You are subject to a good deal of nervous tension.

What Does Your Birth Date Mean?

I'm it.

2005-10-02T20:33:00.000-07:00

Tagged by Rebecca, a meme I must.

5 things I plan to do before I die:

Write a novel.
Go to Ireland and Scotland.
Drive across the continent.
Become healthy and pain-free
Find love.

5 things I can do:

Global procurement
Speed-reading
Digital editing of video and photography
Cook and bake for large (100+) groups. My SIL and I used to joke we could cater any funeral easily.
Public speaking

5 things I cannot do:

Sports or anything that requires coordination at all.
Watch reality television
Change a tire
Eat spicy foods
Debate

5 things that attract me to the opposite sex:

Honesty
Sense of humor
Broad shoulders
Above average intelligence, or at least someone with their own opinions
Maturity

5 things I say most often:

Yeah, not so much
Molly, stop it
I have a headache (or my knee hurts) - it's getting far too cliche actually
Whatcha' doin'?
No worries.

5 celebrity crushes:

Viggo Mortensen
Aidan Quinn
Chris Meloni
Julian McMahon
LL Cool J

5 people to inflict this meme on (and no pressure - if you don't want to, no worries at all!):
Cool Single Mom
Stephie's Thoughts (come on, Steph - I miss you!)
Fried Green Tomatoes
Charmarie
ArmyWifeToddlerMom

Personal Cheerleading

2005-10-02T20:03:00.000-07:00

All serious daring starts from within. - Eudora Welty

Last month, IndyTeresa wrote about buying a book called You Can Do It! It's the brainchild of Lauren Catuzzi Grandcolas, who was tragically killed on Flight 93 on September 11, 2001.

The concept is simple. Remember those Brownie and Guide Badges you worked towards when you were a little girl? Why not do it again? Why not work toward merit badges for grown-up girls? And this time, you won't have that mean little girl in your group that kicked your shins whenever the Brown Owl wasn't looking...or maybe that was just me.

I thought it sounded like a fantastic idea. The satisfaction you feel from setting a goal, working towards it and actually obtaining it can be immense. I used to be the person who said 'I wish I could to [...insert idea here...]' until one day I thought to myself 'What's stopping me?'

Since that epiphany, I have taught myself to create webpages, learn basic HTML, Photoshop and many other computer related tasks. Last year, I tried to teach myself how to sew, and well, that's a bit of work in progress but I will complete that by the end of the year. This fall, I'm working on writing short fiction stories and proper photography techniques.

Sometimes, pushing yourself brings you to places you never thought possible. It opens doors that you couldn't even see before, let alone imagine.

There are many badge ideas in this book to inspire and intimidate:

Activism
Getting Published
Quilting
Decorating
Gardening
Negotiating
Cooking
Breaking Bad Habits

And many more, including some blank ones for you to create your own.

It may be a fadd-ish idea on the surface, but there's a lot of promise. Often, it just takes that great little idea to build on something amazing.

Like the book says, Because it's high time your want-to-do list got as much attention as your to-do list.

Blogtwins?

2005-10-02T19:30:00.000-07:00

Your Famous Blogger Twin is InstaPundit

Smart, well-informed, a true polymath
Don't be surprised if your blogging brings you fame as well!

Who's Your Famous Blogger Twin?

I wouldn't really go there, as I suspect my little corner of the world is none-too-unique to be interesting to the masses. But these tests are addictive nonetheless.

October already?

2005-10-02T09:16:00.000-07:00

There is nothing better than having a baby fall asleep in your arms.

I've spent most of the weekend over with my niece and I'm glad to say she's doing well. Not a happy puppy, mind you, but she'll be ok.

It amazes me how far this operation has come in 10 years. Granted, mine was a little more involved but at the same time, it's almost space-age. She was awake, under local anaesthetic, and while it didn't hurt, she could feel the pressure of the procedure. Scraping, cauterizing, and removal. The nurses were fantastic, talking to her throughout and keeping her calm. When it came time to complete the operation, her incision was closed without stitches. When she first told me that, I thought she was possibly not understanding it all, but was surprised to see a 3" scar on her wrist that looked completely healed only 6 hours after.

Of course, it has given her a lot of discomfort. It's very swollen and the first day she was unable to move her fingers at all, which made it very difficult to manage the baby. I had told her when she came home from the hospital to get the pain medication right away, but she tried to go without. However, by 9pm, I received a teary phonecall that she needed it.

Hayley is at an age where she is asking questions about everything. 'Mommy's doctor fixed her arm' wasn't enough for the precocious 3 1/2 year old. It was only when she was satisfied there was blood and juice, and cutting that she stopped asking.

By last night, Shan was improving and was able to hold Lex and pick him up. Her parents had returned from their vacation and it was time for me to come home. I'm tired but relieved she's ok.

However, now, I have a challenge. I haven't been reading Harry Potter 6, because I was into the Outlander series by Diana Gabaldon. But the girls have been threatening to tell me the plot twists if I don't finish. I'm on Page 250, and they've even gone as far as to tell me what page the BIG event happens. So today, on this rainy cloudy Sunday, I will complete their challenge so they can stop teasing me!

Uh oh...

2005-09-30T09:19:00.000-07:00

Someone has a great sense of the obvious.

Bringing back the memories

2005-09-30T09:17:00.000-07:00

Relive your childhood and play virtual lite-brite.

The clown on the packaging still scares me, but Lite-Brite was fun.

Blathering

2005-09-30T08:57:00.000-07:00

Shan and the kids in August.

I've been at work this morning since the ungodly hour of 5am. I was supposed to be calling one of my vendors in Europe but the contact decided to take the afternoon off work without letting me know! So I came in for basically no good reason. Not very impressed at all.

I am falling asleep at my desk, and my mind is definitely elsewhere. Shan just left for the hospital about 5 minutes ago. And do you think I can find a florist that is reasonable? Ugh, I think I'll just bring some pretty flowers myself tonight!

It's not a tumour

2005-09-29T19:56:00.000-07:00

Wasn't that line in Kindergarten Cop?

There is a moment before any non-emergency surgery that you feel truly alone. Even if you have a gaggle of support outside in the waiting room....there is that moment when you leave them. That time between leaving them and after being prepped, but just before the surgery.

For me, I remember that moment well. During my ulnar neuropathic surgery in 1995, I laid on that bed feeling utterly alone. The nurses were far off, and my family was several floors above me. The doctor was across the hall with the anesthesiologist talking shop. I was completely alone in my thoughts and I was scared.

My niece goes through that tomorrow morning. She has surgery to remove a ganglion on the top of her wrist. She found the small lump soon after she found out she was pregnant with Alex. Of course, at the time, nothing could be done until she gave birth and only then would she be put on a surgical waiting list.

In some ways, she was fortunate. It has only been 9 months waiting. But the cyst has grown. It is so large now that people often stop and stare when we go out. It has filled with fluid, and absessed to the point that she has little range of motion. Not too easy to live with when you're nursing an infant and running after a 3 year old ball of energy.

When she finally got into see the surgeon, he was understandably concerned and booked her into surgery as quickly as he could. The good news is this particular ganglion has not damaged the nerves. It will be a minor surgery, as far as these things go, but surgery none the less. She will also be only given local anaesthetic as she is still breastfeeding.

Shan has had surgery before, but that was emergency surgery. At the tender age of 14, she caught a linedrive on the baseball field with her face. Reconstructive procedures took place but she was very traumatized and has little memory of the actual incident or the immediate aftermath. Her biggest memory of the event was getting her puppy, Bailey. Yeah, we bribed her with a dog. But that's another story in itself.

Ganglions run in our family. My mom had one, and two of my brothers had them as well. Sometimes they go away, and well, sometimes they don't. Other times still, they cause major problems. As was the case in my situation. As I've mentioned before, my blessing in life is to have those rare 'I've never seen this happen before' experiences.

I noticed my ganglion in 1993 when I was the same age that Shannon is now. It was situated on the underside of my wrist and did impair movement. We tried several options prior to surgery - cortisone, aspiration, splinting, anti-inflammatories...even, I'm ashamed to say...smashing it (old wives' tale...don't let anyone ever tell you it's a good thing!). So I had my first surgery in 1994. It should have been simple, like what Shannon is facing tomorrow.

It wasn't. The doctor, from the best we can figure, hiccuped or something and damaged the nerve as he was attempting to separate the cyst. Over the next year, I lost complete use of my hand. By 1995, I had constant pain from the nerve damage and was put on medical leave from my job. You know the feeling when you hit your funny bone? Well, when the ulnar is damaged, that sensation is constant. Trust me, it is not funny.

It became obvious I had only one choice. To have major nerve reconstructive surgery. A muscle graft would be taken from my forearm and made into a sheath to protect the damaged nerve. At the time, it was a very new procedure and I was very lucky to be seen by the best hand surgeon in BC. It was a 6 hour operation, followed by 2 days in hospital while the graft 'took'. And while the surgeon was brilliant, he had the bedside manner of a wall. A very dull wall. His first words to me when I woke up were 'Well, you'll never have a pretty wrist again, and I am not sure what usage you'll get out of it, but it's done'.

Over the next 7 months, I made daily trips to the rehabilitation ward at the hospital to relearn how to use my wrist, my arm and my fingers. I met with other patients with varying degrees of disability ranging from strokes to severe injury while we struggled to re-train our fingers to tie shoes, cut food, brush our hair and many things most people take for granted. It was a test of character that I am very proud to have gone through. It taught me to be much more appreciative of our precious gift of health and life.

I sported an 8" incision running from my palm to my mid-forearm. I was extremely self-conscious for a very long time and became obsessed with wearing long sleeved shirts almost obsessively. My ex would refer to my arm as 'the claw', which most certainly did not help. He would later use my disability as a reason for why he felt the need to begin dating other people, while engaged to me.

It was a challenging time. I found strength that I never thought I had. I proved that doctor wrong and have full use of my hand now, and am even able to flex to almost full extension. I may have lost about 15% of my range of motion but considering what the expectation was, it is an accomplishment I've been always proud of.

Now, I see my niece getting ready for her operation tomorrow. She is very nervous, and apprehensive. She was just a young girl when I went through my experience, but she was old enough to remember it. Today, she confessed to my Mom that she was terrified that the doctor would slip with her too and she would have to go through what I did. Of course, when I spoke with her not long after, she kept a brave face and only admitted to being slightly apprehensive about being awake during the procedure.

I know she'll be fine. But at the same time, I don't envy her. I know she's going to have to go through this alone, and nothing anyone can say will help her. We can be there for her before and support her during her recovery, but the procedure itself will be on her own.

Consumed

2005-09-29T18:53:00.000-07:00

by writing. I started that course last week in memoir writing. It was something I had wanted to do for a long time, but lacked the confidence to do it.

I have been consumed in this last week. I can't stop writing. A Pandora's Box of stories. Plots. Memories. Words. Anything and everything.

I often wondered how people start writing. How they begin to make sense of the flurry of words and thoughts that run through their brains. And then I hesitate. Am I really good enough to write something someone would actually read?

I have some very good friends who are professional writers. Incredibly talented people who can put words together with such beauty, it amazes me. One friend of mine writes a column for a paper in Utah. I have travelled with her when she sees something, and quickly starts a story. Within minutes, a column is born and her deadlines met. Without even breaking a sweat. Or so it seems.

So back to that intimidation factor. I want to write. I would love for it to be professionally, but I have lot to learn. How does one begin?

This week, I ate up the first three chapters of my course. I have spent nearly $150 on books from Amazon. I have read and re-read every supplemental reading material the instructor has offered. I put pen to paper, and fingers to keyboard and have written pages and pages of random musings as they pop into my head. Sometimes, it's just a word. Other times, it's a pararaph or two, or even a page.

I found it was as if a door in my imagination opened. I couldn't stop. Fast and furious. Sometimes clear and coherent, others just all over the place. Memories. Stories. Everything came flashing back through my head. I have found as I lay down at night, it becomes even more intense. My notebook has become my constant companion.

In the vein of pushing myself, I have developed a few goals for the next few months. I must complete this course to my own satisfaction (and trust me when I say I have high standards for myself). I must write a few short stories that I would be proud enough to show someone. I must learn more about what it takes to become more accomplished.

And, if - big IF I am still as into things as I am feeling now by Christmas, I will enroll myself in a Writer's Conference in nearby Washington State.

I know I have much, much to learn and I am only in the infancy of this adventure. But I do know one thing. It feels so good to write.

An Ebay Classic

2005-09-29T15:04:00.000-07:00

On Ebay.

The write-up made me laugh hard enough to nearly spit my drink all over my keyboard. Have a read - the person writing this has a great sense of humour. Not so much style. But humour, definitely.

Don't believe the hype

2005-09-29T08:35:00.000-07:00

Everyone is jittery lately. The hurricanes in the Southern US seem to have taken a large toll on the psyche of many. Even those as far away as us in the Great White North seem to have been affected.

After Katrina hit, the stories about our own Typhoon Frieda came out. I mentioned in a previous entry that it had 'touched' us in 1962 and had a few people take issue with that. That storm of 1962 was one of the worst weather stories the West Coast has ever seen. Many homes destroyed, and power out for days on end. I'm compiling a bit of a story on that for a later date of what my family remembers.

When Katrina wreaked havoc through the Gulf Coast, many local people jumped in to help. Rescue teams, doctors, veterinarians and just regular people ran to help our southern neighbours. It was a proud time. Heart warming to see so many that just wanted to assist others in their time of need.

When Rita started becoming a reality, we began noticing here that people were getting a little more sensationalistic.

My own gas station had a sign that read 'Debit cards down due to Hurricane Rita'. I mean, I know it was a large hurricane, but last I checked, it didn't reach up to Canada!

The other night, at my parent's strata council meeting, someone stood up and asked what preparations were being made for their neighbourhood in the wake of Katrina?

Yesterday, I went out for lunch with some coworkers. They were talking about 'the storm'
in hurried voices.

'Did you hear it's supposed to hit tonight?'
'The rain and the wind are going to be harsh!'
'I hope we don't flood and lose all that product in the back of the yard'
'Did the guys get out there to dig some drainage ditches this morning so we can cope with the surge?'

I thought to myself "Did I miss something?" I am usually very informed with the news, both current and global.

When I came back to my desk, I checked the local news. And it was here. The first storm of the season, it read.

But closer reading forecasted about an inch of rain and winds up to 20 miles an hour.

Um, people, this is fall on the West Coast. It's October. It's what happens!

Last night, it began. It was just a heavy rainstorm, nothing more. There were a few more leaves on the roads this morning and of course, more accidents because people saw rainclouds and forgot how to drive.

People wonder why there wasn't more evacuations during Katrina. Sure, some people were truly trapped and I can understand that. But given the hype that is created over every weather event, or even every security issue, is it any wonder that people are fatigued?

Each and every time the media and the scaremongers whip up into a frenzy, and nothing happens, at least one more person will be turned off the next time something truly does occur.

If you read one post today,

2005-09-28T10:00:00.000-07:00

Read this.

Nevermind the stories of New Orleans, and the big cities. This is small town Mississippi and it is beyond heartbreaking.

hat tip to Idgie.

Predictability

2005-09-28T08:26:00.000-07:00

I have debated blogging about this, but have decided that writing helps me see things straight. I know I have a great many friends who read this blog and are a fantastic source of support. What makes me hesitate is that I am still unsure who else reads this, and given that I had a troll email me privately last week, I have been 'turtle-ing' a bit.

I am angry. I don't get angry very often, but when I do, it's deep and burning and I don't let go of it easy. My tolerance level has been described as a 'long fuse, but a slow burn'.

When Todd revealed to me in not so many words that his situation with his family was not as he first led me to believe, I was not so much shocked and hurt as I was mad at this inability to be honest. From the day I met him, I told him I had trust issues. He knew that my experience had been very negative with men, in that each and every one I had ever given my heart to had issues with being faithful. He constantly reassured me that this was not the case. That he and his wife had split, and that he was working through her unfaithfulness as well. Damn my naivete that I believed him.

Fast forward to the end of August. He had his R&R, and emailed me to tell me that once in the US, he would call me to explain the situation further. I told him in no uncertain terms that no explanation was necessary. I would not be played a fool. He said in a subsequent email to give him the benefit of the doubt and that there was more to the story. But I heard no more.

Of course, his time at home is now done, and I had recently remarked to a friend that I suspected he would return to duty in Iraq, get over the jetlag and get lonely again.

Sure enough, that email arrived yesterday morning.

I'm sorry that I have been so distant. This trip home has forced me to
rethink my priorities and my mind is a blur. I am regretting extending into this
tour. You have always been there for me and I will always cherish you! I understand if you are angry.... for this I am truly sorry. I have to stop being so selfish and consider my family and also my friends. I think of you often... sorry it took so long to write. Hope all is well with you and I will write again soon. If you are to mad to write, please do not reply. I take words literally and I do not want to end our friendship that way. Love,

The bolding is my emphasis. Camels, straws, and broken backs flashed in my head.

If I am too mad? Dude, can't take the heat? Sorry, but you do not get off that easy.

I am not a confrontational person. I shrink from arguments as if phobic, and will find every opportunity I can not to deal with disagreements. I am a peacemaker by nature, and an introvert to boot. But this email made me seethe.

Then I decided. I may not be able to express verbally, but I do have an ability to write strongly. Words are my weapon of choice.

With cold fury in my heart, I wrote the following:

Yes, it has been a long time. Although not wholely unexpected. I was
quite sure that your trip home would open up a Pandora's Box of emotions.
I only hope that in time it will be a positive step.

Am I mad? No, not at you. If anything, my anger is directed at myself. I am mad at myself for wanting to believe in something that was not entirely true.

I am disappointed that you did not feel you could be honest with me. I talked
you through the decision of extending your tour, and now I feel as if I may have
done the wrong thing...as I did not understand the situation fully. For
that, I apologize. I should have stepped back when I started to realize I
didn't have the full picture.

It is now obvious to me that your dishonesty put me in a position of becoming the one thing I detest. The 'other woman'. I have been on her side and I know the exquisite pain that can cause. You also knew my misgivings on this, yet your failed to respect both me nor the other people in your life.

I only know of your life what you have chosen to tell me. And for what that
was, I enjoyed and cherished your friendship too. I believe I deserved that much respect, and even more, you deserve to respect yourself that much. You will never find the elusive happiness you so desperately seek if you are not honest with
yourself.

You are a good person, and there is a lot to be proud of. But you need to work on accepting yourself for who you are, and not just how you wish others to see you.
I hope for your sake, as well as that of your young daughter, that you learn that.

And with that, I've said my peace. I can now properly bury the last year of my life and move on. Unfortunately, my trust issues run incredibly deep and it will be a very long time, if ever at all that I will believe in love again.

Happy Thoughts

2005-09-27T09:18:00.000-07:00

I was going through some old emails and found this. Thought I'd post it here.

At least 2 people in this world love you so much they would die for you.
At least 15 people in this world love you in some way.
The only reason anyone would ever hate you is because they want to be just like you.
A smile from you can bring happiness to anyone, even if they don't like you.
Every night, SOMEONE thinks about you before they go to sleep.
You mean the world to someone.
If not for you, someone may not be living.
You are special and unique.
Someone that you don't even know exists, loves you.
When you make the biggest mistake ever, something good comes from it.
When you think the world has turned its back on you, take a look: you most likely turned your back on the world.
When you think you have no chance of getting what you want, you probably won't get it, but if you believe in yourself, probably, sooner or later, you will get it.
Always remember the compliments you received. Forget about the rude remarks.
Always tell someone how you feel about them; you will feel much better when they know.
If you have a great friend, take the time to let them know that they are great.

Red Ensign Standard Volume XXVlll

2005-09-26T08:11:00.000-07:00

The Last Amazon has done an amazing job of the latest Red Ensign Standard. It's been a bit of a hiatus for the group over the summer but the return of Autumn has seen many thought-provoking posts from the group.

Kate muses -

Fifty years ago, school children in Canada could have told you what it
means to be a Canadian but the parameters have changed so radically that I
fear we are in danger of losing not only our place in the world but our
national will. Regionalism threatens all the ties that use to bind us. And
sorry, I cannot rally around our healthcare system and do not see waiting
patiently in line for years for a hip replacement or an MRI as a value that
I want to pass onto my children.

As someone currently on the endless list for a knee operation, I agree wholeheartedly.

Read the rest here. You'll be glad you did.

23:5

2005-09-24T18:56:00.000-07:00

From Rebecca at Doxology, via Alicia at Fructus Ventris:

Rules:
1. Go into your archive.
2. Find your 23rd post (or closest to it).
3. Find the 5th sentence (or closest to it).
4. Post the text of the sentence in your blog along with these instructions.

Speaking of which, my niece is cooking up her second baby now.

The story of Ms. Thang and how she came to be. And how her mother went from a 19-year old teenage mom to a grown woman in a blink. I wrote this last November, and it is a story that is still one that makes my heart beat a little faster. Lex, aka Skizzy was 2 months from his debut.

At the time, I was hoping to be at the birth. Unfortunately, that wasn't meant to be. Her quickness in delivery and my concern about missing work for a job that laid me off a month later prevented that. I did, however, get a camera phone picture of them cutting his cord. Next best thing, really.

If you want to play too, let me know so I can read your 23:5!

Wacky Fortunes

2005-09-24T18:50:00.000-07:00

Your Fortune Is

Squirrel who runs up woman's leg not find nuts.

The Wacky Fortune Cookie Generator

Memoir writing

2005-09-24T15:51:00.000-07:00

I began my memoir writing course this week, and am thoroughly enjoying it. Because I have become the official 'keeper' of the oral and physical history of my family, I have long been interested in the idea of putting it together in a format that all could benefit from.

I have been intimidated though. Not confident enough in my writing skills, and overwhelmed by the thought of how to write it, where to start, what to say. My end goal isn't to make something publish worthy, but just something to give to the family members. It's their history too.

The first assignment is a stream of consciousness based on a single item. I chose my grandmother's ring. I wear it on my 3rd finger of my right hand.

Sometimes it’s heavy on my hand, and sometimes it I don’t feel it at all, but I never forget it’s there.

The ring that graces my right hand was placed on my grandmother’s left hand when she married in 1922. The night of their marriage was so full of apprehension and yet such promise. Her new husband had great visions for them. They knew their life in their Ireland was over. The civil war that tore apart their families gave them no choice but to leave immediately.

He had scraped together enough money for a plain gold band. There was no Catholic service. There was no time for Banns. Not even enough time to have the family gather. Only enough to see the priest and flip the coin that would decide their fate.

He looked at her with the sixpence in his hand. “Head, Canada and Tails, Australia, my love?” Both boats were in port and ready to sail to their new home.

She was 20. She only had heard tale of the wildness that was Canada and she knew that whatever happened, she would never see her family again. But she loved him. And she knew that as long as she was by his side, it would be fine.

80 years later, the ring now rests on my hand. Given to me by my mother, when I could appreciate it with the honour it deserved.

I feel Nan’s presence through that ring. It guides me. Her courage, her strength, and her grace in the face of sheer adversity moves me in a way that nothing else could.

ReNewOrleans Bracelets

2005-09-23T11:04:00.000-07:00

Bracelets for the Renew New Orleans foundation here. Thought they looked very funky, and for $5.00, why not?

Reruns

2005-09-23T09:10:00.000-07:00

As Rita bears down on Houston, I'm watching the news channels along with so many others.

Found a site that has live cameras of the highways here. The above picture is just outside the airport in Houston and shows that at least that area seems to be quiet.

Of course, the absolutely HORRID story of the 24 elderly people on the evacuation bus is heartbreaking. According to the article, "The explosions happened at 4 a.m. today after the bus' brakes caught on fire, reached passengers' oxygen tanks and set off an explosion". I don't even want to imagine the sheer panic that they would have had to endure knowing they were trapped.

There are some 'citizen journalist' blogs here, through the Houston Chronicle.

It is like one long nightmare for the people in the storm zones. The dead have still not been completely retreived in New Orleans and now it's happening again. I can only hope that this one, when it hits tonight (what was Mambo No 5 - a little bit of Rita all night long?) will be less violent than predicted.

On a Katrina note, I heard on the radio about a group of veterinary volunteers from BC that are currently in Lousiana helping get the rescued animals off their feet. The vet they spoke to sounded totally overwhelmed but inspired by the work they were doing. Their website, The Canadian Animal Assistance is here.

My friends were on their way to Belize tomorrow, through a 24 hour layover in Houston. This trip had been planned for ages, and obviously will now be dramatically changed. However, as luck would have it, they can't even get hold of Continental Airlines to make any arrangements. Continental's hub is Houston, and of course no one is there. Their not-so-helpful travel agent said they could buy 2 full-fare tickets again, and hope that it would be covered by insurance but no guarantees. Sure, shell out another $3500 on a maybe? So at this point, they have no idea whether they're going or not.

Turning 30 and 3/5ths

2005-09-22T09:00:00.000-07:00

(Last year's cake...it was a shopping bag to um, celebrate my shopaholic tendancies. And of course, my nickname owed to my photographic endeavours).

Thank you so much for your kind birthday wishes!

Ok, still gonna milk it. I liked being 30 and a half. 35 scared me. 35 was when, if you're a single woman, everything starts rotting and dying off inside you. Have you read the small print of certain prescription products? 'Women over 35 at risk...'... to completely explode when they take this pill.

So last year, as I approached 35, I did it kicking and screaming. Hence, I decided to turn 30 1/2 instead. Much less assuming.

In the last 365 days, it has been a challenging time to say the least. Worst year? No, not at all but definitely up there on the negative side.

My health deterioriated. The pain is now a constant challenge. My struggle is not having it define me. Knowing that tomorrow might not be a better day, and a year from now might be even worse than I can even envision scares me, but I chose not to let it get me down. Many people live with chronic pain, and I will find that place soon that will allow me to as well.

I lost my job to restructuring after 10 years (well, 9.38 years but who's counting?). But it was a blessing. I needed a change, and I needed to be able to look after me. I decided that I was financially stable enough that I could take a contract job and just temp for a while until I found myself in a healthier situation. It may or may not have been a good decision but I'm still fine with it.

Of course, damaging my knee to the point I am not able to walk well definitely threw a wrench into that. Summer? What summer? Oh, the warmth I could feel from outside my windows while sitting on my couch.

My family struggled with health. My brother had his heart attack in March, my Aunt a stroke last December and my Mom's emphysema has worsened significantly. It has made me much more appreciative of every moment I can spend with them.

And lastly, the man who I stood beside for 13 months didn't turn out to be the person I believed him to be. I'm certainly not the first nor the last person who had someone deceive them, and as I said to him in my last communication, I have no regrets. I went into this with an open mind, and open heart. I chose to try to continue once he was deployed to Iraq and I don't regret that. I learned a lot through that experience. Much good came out of it and I only hope he finds whatever elusive happiness he is looking for, but it won't be with me.

Challenges, definitely. But looking back in time over the last few days, I couldn't help but think what a GOOD year it has been.

My grandnephew - Alexander James - came into our lives January 3. I didn't think I could love a child so completely as I loved his sister Hayley but was amazed at how my heart grew. That little boy is....well, perfect.

His sister, Hayley - while always a close bond to my heart has grown into the most amazing child. We talk on the phone now that she has learned to dial my phone number. Ok, just autodial but still. She makes me laugh all the time. Lately, it's because she thinks I work at Canadian Tire. And there is no chance of changing her mind on that.

Their mother, my niece grew into a good friend and not just a relation. I don't have sisters, and I often wished I had that close bond sisters do. I guess I got my wish to some degree. She's like my little sister now and I am thankful every day that my brother 'grew me a friend' in Shan.

My best friend got engaged to her perfect match. Their relationship is what gives me hope. What gives me belief that there IS such a thing as a great love story. When they get married next April, it will be my highest honour to stand beside them.

My friend Teresa came to visit in July from San Francisco. We had a fantastic weekend - whalewatching, dancing, sightseeing and even a little Bard on The Beach. Without a doubt, the best part of the summer!

I found my writing gene. I always loved to write, but this year it has taken off. And going to see Isabel Allende gave me the inspiriation to work towards that. I have many many stories floating around in my head, and struggle to get them out, but I now have the confidence to actually try. Blogging began in earnest last November, and as Devon mentioned, it stretches those writing muscles. I make no claims to the most interesting, or the most thought-provoking blog out there - but I enjoy what I do.

Through blogging, I have met such wonderful, strong, witty, amazing people. I had not anticipated that, but it was one of the best benefits. Some have even become people I consider true friends, and that is definitely a highlight of my year.

So I'm now 36. 30 and 3/5ths. Last year was my growing year, I think. This year, I have good feelings going into it. I know it's going to be a good one.

With that, I'm now out to enjoy the day. It's a beautiful one.

The 80s called....

2005-09-21T22:15:00.000-07:00

Ok, there is just something about the 80s that is deeply defining.

Oh, who am I kidding? Basically it's just that you can take the girl out of the 80s but you can't take the 80s out of the girl.

In my quest to recreate my youth, I bought tickets to see Foreigner in concert in November. Having this new casino with their cheesy aged bands performing just 15 minutes away from my house is a great novelty.

We're also seeing Loverboy in October.

A funny thing happened today. One of the long standing battles at my new job is the lack of teamwork and lack of understanding what everyone does. I never fully appreciated how important a good team was until I found out how difficult it is when you don't have it.

My previous job had what we called 'Company Days'. I think a couple of my former coworkers read this so they are likely smiling with the wry knowledge of how painful these days can be in terms of keeping everyone happy. One year we had a photo scavenger hunt, another time was cleaning up a public area and another time was a team building event involving little problem-solving games. We always grumbled and complained, although generally it was usually a positive experience. As our company grew, we often didn't interact with other departments and these times gave us an insight into what everyone else did.

My new job? That doesn't happen at all. I was looked at like an alien when I suggested some sort of bonding event. Not even anything crazy, but just something to get everyone talking. Considering two people must be separated by a forest of potted plants so they don't catch each other's eye, it is sorely lacking.

Today a few of my coworkers decided to take me out for lunch. I was touched by the offer, but insisted we invite the entire group and not just a select few.

The initial response? 'Oh, we can't talk to them.' So I did. I invited them and said it would be an honour if they joined us. Surprise when the response was overwhelmingly positive. So we all went to a local restaurant and apparently it was the biggest gathering of people (maybe 10 of us) they'd ever done.

We sat over lunch and laughed, talked and joked with each other. Seemingly and deceptively simple but considering the strong sense of division in the group, not inconsiderable.

Turns out another girl has the same 80s problem I do. She mentioned the concert but how she had no friends who wished to indulge. So I said I would. I bought the tickets as soon as I returned back to the office. We had never said more than hello to each other before today.

The whole afternoon, there was a marked change. The office was buzzing with conversation, instead of the deafening silence that usually permeates the air.

Hopefully, it lasts. I am now beginning to realize how important it was for my ex-company to foster the relationships it did. There were, of course, still politics and undercurrents as with any place but there at least was an attempt to keep us all informed and on the same page.

The best part, though, is that I found out this week that we are entitled to our birthday off as a statutory holiday. So tomorrow, I will be having a leisurely day running around visiting old friends and shopping. Gotta do the shopping!

Culinary Delights of the Seventies

2005-09-19T19:53:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl, my Mom had subscribed to the monthly recipe packages from Betty Crocker and McCalls. Once a month, a thick envelope would arrive and she would leave it for me to open when I came home from school. It was always a big treat to see the pictures of the recipes for me (yeah, I was easily amused!) and I would look forward to the arrival each month.

A little while ago, I inherited the big yellow box back from my Mom. I eagerly opened the dusty box and found, um, well - times have changed.

Here's the first few that I found. I scanned the ones that may not quite have been as, um, cutting edge as they were 30 years ago.

Usually, this would be when you throw the salad out.

I really have no words. "Um, honey, there's some motor oil in the fridge. Don't forget the sprig of greenery - it really takes the bitterness out."

I don't remember this on the Jenny Craig menu. Imagine coming home to prepare this delicacy. Anorexia might even sound inviting....

The apricot or the recipient? It works with any fruit really. Take one small piece of fruit and pour the brandy to the brim. Still more in the bottle? Oh, no worries...no one will notice if you take a sip. Or two. Or seven. Besides, the kids will sleep much better if they have desert...

Honey, where's the dog? Have you seen Rin Tin Tin? Yup, that's one way to stretch the budget!

There are quite a few more. I will post them over the next few days.

Nano-Caving

2005-09-18T15:04:00.000-07:00

I bought one.

I caved.

I said I'd never buy an iPod.

But my Creative Zen that I bought in December was a little too big to take everywhere.

And this one was just way too cool. Colour screen and very sleek.

Besides, I needed to buy something for me for my birthday. No one else was going to.

Justification. It's not just a party trick.

Clarification - my birthday is actually on Thursday, the 22nd. I bought this to arrive on that day. I hope! Thank you so much though for your wishes - very much appreciated!

What country are you?

2005-09-18T14:21:00.000-07:00

You're Bosnia-Herzegovina!

You've just been through a big tragedy. You weren't sure you were
going to make it at all. Now that you have, there's a lot to pick back up in your life,and not enough people are helping you. You just wanted a little more freedom, a chance to be away from those who thought poorly of you. Now it's time to build up some confidence, and it looks like you have a good chance at that. But you'll need a lot of therapy.

Take the Country Quiz at the Blue Pyramid

Wow

2005-09-17T23:18:00.000-07:00

It certainly wasn't this man's time. 16 days in his attic in New Orleans before being found yesterday. The 76 year old man had just run out of water the day before.

Whole story here.

Meme-fied

2005-09-17T12:41:00.000-07:00

Some people love meme's, some people hate 'em. I'm in the former...I always find them sort of fun to do and gives you a little something to write about you might not always think of.

This one has been borrowed from Monica.

1.What is your occupation?
Steel/Railroad Buyer

2. What are you listening to right now?
Boys of Summer - Don Henley

3. What was the last thing you ate?
Shreddies with warm milk

4. Do you wish on stars?
All the time. Sometimes they even come true.

5. if you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Magenta

6. How is the weather right now?
A little sunny, a little cloudy - just right

7. Last person you spoke to on the phone?
My friend Shelagh

8. How old are you today?
35 and 360 days

9. Favorite drinks?
Cranberry/Gingerale or Chai Almond Latte

10. Favorite sports to watch?
Hockey and (Box) Lacrosse

11. Have you ever dyed your hair?
Yup. No idea what my real hair colour is anymore but it's pretty grey, I'm sure.

12. Do you wear contacts?
No. Stigmatism prevents it.

13. Pets?
Molly the Wonder Collie

14. Favorite month?
July

15. Favorite food?
Italian and Greek

16. What was the last movie you watched?
at home: Crash
at the movies: 40 Year Old Virgin

17. Favorite day of the year?
Any day spent with friends

18. What do you do to vent anger?
Write or call my best friend

19. What was your favorite toy as a child?
Suzy Homemaker and her dollhouse

20. Fall or Spring?
Spring

21. Hugs or kisses?
Any but only from the right person

22. Cherry or Blueberry?
Blueberry

23. Favorite mythical animal/creature?
Mermaids/Silkies

24. Greatest Pet Peeve?
drunk drivers

25. To be or not to be that is the question?
To be. To try. To live with no regrets.

26. Living arrangements?
Own. Just me and my pup.

27. When was the last time you cried?
Midweek - a disagreement at work. Hopefully it was discreet.

28.What brand of TP do you use?
Purex

29. Who is the friend you have had the longest?
Leigh and Fi - 1992. Although technically I've known Fi longer since we went to the same high school, but we all met when we started working for the same company in 1992.

30. What did you do last night?
Spent time with the kids, read Hayley a bedtime story and went to see '40 Year Old Virgin' with her Mom - my niece later. First time out in nearly 2 months!

31. Favorite smell?
A baby

32. What/Who inspires you?
Those that don't let adversity get them down.

33. What are you afraid of?
Spiders. It's getting worse and I've been known of late to even get in my car through the passenger side because I know there's one on the outside of driver's side.

34. Plain, cheese or spicy hamburgers?
Cheeseburgers. Or Mushroom burgers. Although I can't eat beef now.

35. Favorite car?
BMW Convertible.

36. Favorite dog breed?
Border collies (which Molly is).

37. Number of keys on your key ring? 6

38. How many years at your current job?
4 months

39. Favorite day of the week?
Saturday

Marathon of Hope

2005-09-16T18:02:00.000-07:00

When Terry Fox ran his Marathon of Hope across Canada, I was 10. I remember being fascinated with his trek and would return every pop bottle I could find to donate to the cancer fund.

Even at that young age, I knew what cancer was. My brother's best friend had died the year before at 18 years old of leukemia. Our neighbour - a wonderful old lady who would take me on a bus to the mall, a very precious treat in itself had been taken by lung cancer around the same time.

To think, 25 years after Terry Fox's dream, not only has cancer become beatable in many cases but he would have survived as well. The type of bone cancer he had is now considered one of the more treatable forms.

Of course, the Big C is still a big deal. But if we think how far we've gone in the last 25 years, I hope in the next 25 years, the babies being born today won't even know what it's like to lose their loved ones this way.

This weekend is the Terry Fox run. The following was part of an email I received today that I thought was a very worthwhile read.

While in hospital, Terry was so overcome by the suffering of other cancer patients, many of them young children, that he decided to run across Canada to raise money for cancer research.

Terry Fox's Letter Requesting Support For His Run

The night before my amputation, my former basketball coach brought me a magazine with an article on an amputee who ran in the New York Marathon. It was then I decided to meet this new challenge head on and not only overcome my disability, but conquer it in such a way that I could never look back and say it disabled me.

But I soon realized that that would only be half my quest, for as I went through the 16 months of the physically and emotionally draining ordeal of chemotherapy, I was rudely awakened by the feelings that surrounded and coursed through the cancer clinic. There were faces with the brave smiles, and the ones who had given up smiling. There were feelings of hopeful denial, and the feelings of despair. My quest would not be a selfish one. I could not leave knowing these faces and feelings would still exist, even though I would be set free from mine. Somewhere the hurting must stop... and I was determined to take myself to the limit for this cause.

From the beginning the going was extremely difficult, and I was facing chronic ailments foreign to runners with two legs in addition to the common physical strains felt by all dedicated athletes.

But these problems are now behind me, as I have either out-persisted or learned to deal with them. I feel strong not only physically, but more important, emotionally. Soon I will be adding one full mile a week, and coupled with weight training I have been doing, by next April I will be ready to achieve something that for me was once only a distant dream reserved for the world of miracles – to run across Canada to raise money for the fight against cancer.

The running I can do, even if I have to crawl every last mile.

We need your help. The people in cancer clinics all over the world need people who believe in miracles.

I am not a dreamer, and I am not saying that this will initiate any kind of definitive answer or cure to cancer. But I believe in miracles. I have to.

Terry Fox, October 1979

Favourite Terry Fox Quote:

“I don’t feel that this is unfair. That’s the thing about cancer. I’m not the only one, it happens all the time to people. I’m not special. This just intensifies what I did. It gives it more meaning. It’ll inspire more people. I just wish people would realize that anything’s possible if you try; dreams are made possible if you try.

When Terry Fox lost his battle, I remember feeling like I had lost someone I knew. I cut out every newspaper clipping and article I could find, and grieved as a young child will do. To know though, 2 generations later, that his name lives on and his dream is now bigger than he probably ever could have envisioned is an amazing testament to just how one person can make a difference.

Katrina roundups

2005-09-14T20:35:00.000-07:00

I have been trying to put into words some of what I was thinking about the aftermath of Katrina, but so many have been much more eloquent than I. Then I found Kyra's post. She recently moved out of Louisiana and had hit the nail on the head with the 'The Whole Picture'.

From New Orleans, a couple of posts I found particularly eloquent:

Bobbysan writes of his days following the catastrophe (which was later picked up by the New York Press).

On the topic of casualty numbers, Sturtle puts it in perspective.

In the midst of the disaster, the tombs and caskets also were dislodged due to the high water table. From what I understand, people in N.O. are buried above ground because of it. It would be the same here too as my town doesn't have cemetaries for the same reason. Of course, our departed are usually buried in other towns or cremated.

This quote, I thought particularly fitting:

New Orleans right now is, to me, like that boyfriend who broke up with you. You don't want to leave, but you kind of have to. You still hang out with his friends (Baton Rouge, Huston, Florida, St.Francisville), but eventually, when you can't stand to hear people talk about him any more, you want to start hanging out with people who don't know him so well (New York, California, Europe).

Reaping what you sow

2005-09-14T19:52:00.000-07:00

The big news in Vancouver today is the deportation of Bahadur Singh Bhalru, a convicted street racer who was involved in the death of Irene Thorpe.

In November 2000, Ms Thorpe was struck and killed while walking down Marine Drive in Vancouver. I drove past her memorial every day for nearly 4 years and often thought of the tragedy that befell her and her family.

Mr. Bhalru and another man, Mr. Khosa were street racing when Mr. Khosa lost control of his car at an excessive speed. I can only hope that their victim never knew what hit her.

They were arrested but never spent any time in jail. While convicted, they were sentenced to 2 years of house arrest. House arrest? For causing the death of another human being! Our justice system is notoriously weak and this is yet another example of that.

However, the crux of the story is that neither were Canadian citizens and were still on landed immigrant status when they committed their crime. Therefore, they rendered themselves ineligible for citizenship and were ordered deported. And today, just a hair short of 5 years after the event, the deportation is complete. My cynical mind does wonder, however, if we paid for the ticket.

Their lawyers argued that they "made a 30-second mistake in [their] life for which [they've] paid a very big price."

Well, citizenship is a privilege not a right. They came to Canada and rather than make it a better place, have destroyed a family, taken a life and have yet to even understand why they were denied the right to live in this country. That 30-second 'mistake' caused someone to die, and that is just not acceptable. Bhalru arrogantly seems to miss the point completely on what it means to be a Canadian. Today, his tearful statement at the airport was heavy on the 'poor me's' and very light on the remorse he supposedly feels.

If I was to move to another country, I would expect to be living under their laws and their rules. I would not expect to have laws changed to accomodate me and I would endeavour to live within the laws of the land. When these two young men decided to use poor judgement and race, they chose to forsake their rights. They weren't thinking that night, I'm quite sure, how fortunate they were to have the opportunity to live in Canada - nor what they stood to lose. They should have.

For all those who struggle to come to Canada and to make their lives better by living here, it would have been a slap in the face to allow these convicted criminals to stay. Irene Thorpe didn't get a reprieve. She does not get an appeal. Her family does not get to see her ever again.

Some interesting discussions on the subject are in the Discover Vancouver forum.

Smoke clears

2005-09-14T19:09:00.000-07:00

While the advisory still exists, with my particular area being some of the hardest hit, I am either developing an immunity to smoke or it's much better today. I only noticed a slightly scratchy throat and didn't have to puff once on my inhaler. I couldn't see the plumes of smoke today so that must be a good sign. It does however smell like a campfire, and I have the extremely strong urge for Smores.

On a very positive development, the orthopaedic surgeon's office called today. I have been moved up for the consult to December 6. While still a long way off considering my immobility, it is still much improved than March! My position at this present company will now end at the end of the year, so if all goes well, I may be able to have the surgery in January (I hope!) which would mean I will not need to be out of work long. My worry was trying to look for a new job while facing surgery - not exactly a great bargaining tool. But things always work out if you do't force them, so I will let things go and not get too worried about it.

So in honour of my upcoming 30 3/5 birthday next week, I have decided to make it a sort of "resolutionary" event.

Starting with the sentence, I've always wanted to....

Learn proper photography techniques - signed up for the course starting September 27.

Write the story of my family - signed up today for a beginner's course in creative writing

Go back to New York - am working on convincing my friend to go in January for a chick weekend before her wedding

Give my parents a scrapbook of all their years - started making notes for each page today and plan to have it done by Christmas

It's a start anyhow! But considering all the TV shows are coming back, I may get a little involved with that. I'm very much looking forward to all the new series.

I tried watching Bones, the new show with Kathy Reich's character Temperance Brennan but gave up after 15 minutes. After 2 minutes of over the top action and pitiful dialog, I was just about done but tried to give it the benefit of the doubt that it would improve. But by second commercial, I had gone back to NCIS.

Nip N' Tuck, one of my most favourite returns next Friday, September 23. That's probably the one I'm most looking forward to...since it's still another 8 months until Sopranos begins. With Six Feet Under now gone, there's a big void now for provocative, well written drama out there. I enjoy ER, CSI, and Law and Order, but they still fall short of the envelope-pushing drama of Nip N' Tuck.

Somethin's Burnin'

2005-09-13T19:07:00.000-07:00

A couple of pictures from this morning's commute. Even though I was coughing and wheezing today, from what I've heard, it was not even comparable to other areas of the Lower Mainland.

My friend's fiance was sent home at 10 am after their building was filled with smoke and it was deemed too unsafe to work. And the Fraser Surrey Port was closed for business later in the day. And even schools in the area were closed.

Air quality is poor. People with breathing problems are being advised to stay indoors. I noticed it this morning - burning eyes and scratchy throat - and that was indoors. But the winds shifted this afternoon and I guess someone else got to feel it for a while.

The fire itself covers 200 hectares now (nearly 500 acres for those on imperial measures). 80 firefighters and 7 helicopters continue to battle the blaze, but it has gone undergroud causing difficulties. Consider a forest fire, but underneath the surface. Firefighters have the added danger of not knowing where it will pop up again.

There was a rumour today that the next plan was to flood the bog plain by opening up the dykes at the edge. I don't know how true that is but while novel, the thought of flooding is a little too fresh in the memory right now to make it a good plan in my mind.

Burning the bog

2005-09-13T09:41:00.000-07:00

So the fire has grown. From approximately 23 hectares to 170 hectares.

It smells like a campfire, even inside the office. I can't stop coughing and hacking, but I'm not alone. Seems like what everyone is doing.

I took some amazing sunrise shots, with the sun looking like a bright red sphere through the smoke. However, now two hours later and the smoke getting thicker, I'd say it's not so cool any more. I want my blue sky back...I'd even settle for rain, if that's what it takes.

Cough. Hack. Wheeze.

Burns Bog

2005-09-12T19:44:00.000-07:00

Tonight the Lower Mainland of Vancouver sits in a fog of smoke from a 20-hectare fire burning at, appropriately enough, Burns Bog.

The wafting of the smoke has permeated the city and ash has been found on cars nearly 20 kms away (including my own). It smells like one huge campfire.

I work not too far from where the fire is, and it was definitely noticeable in the air today. You couldn't help but have a scratchy throat and watery eyes. I took this picture while driving home from work.

A web poll at Canada.com shows 75% of people have noticed the effects of this large fire, and it looks as if there is no end in sight. This is not just a forest fire, but the added bonus of being in a peat bog means the fire could smoulder for months.

Burns Bog is the largest undeveloped urban area in North America, at about 4,000 acres. It is home to many species of wildife from beaver to bear.

Late this afternoon, an advisory for air quality was issued. Because of my mother's emphysema, my parents decided to leave town for a few days. Although they had already planned a trip in the near future, the looks of this fire made them move the trip up a little bit. She's just getting on her feet after being so ill in early July and she just does not need another setback.

However, I have to admit there is something very cool about watching the Mars Bombers dropping retardant, and the helicopers dousing the flames with water. Certainly not a common sight in the urban zone.

Flowers in my hair

2005-09-12T19:43:00.000-07:00

So I'm only 1/5 Hippie. I'm more Scottish and Irish than that!

I am 20% Hippie.

What? Am I a Republican? Why did I even bother taken this test?! I guess I’ll back to my George W. Bush fan club and tell them I just wasted 10 minutes of my life. At least I don’t stink, man.

Take the
Hippie Test
@ FualiDotCom

Auction for Katrina

2005-09-12T19:33:00.001-07:00

ArmyWifeToddlerMom is hosting an EBay auction with benefits going to the military members who have lost their possessions and loved ones in the aftermath of Katrina. Some of these men and women have spent their last year deployed overseas, and are now having to deal with the the devastation from afar.

Go check it out. There are some great one-of-a-kind items, including autographed books.

Where for art thou?

2005-09-12T19:33:00.000-07:00

I've never read Shakespeare. All I know of the man and his works is what I've caught in the odd moment here and there. I went to a progressive high school that allowed us to read more cutting edge books - The Crysalids and The Day of The Triffids for example.

This year, I went with a friend (Hi T!) to Bard on The Beach for Love's Labour Lost. It made me almost want to read some of the classics - but of course, there's always so many other books to read that they tend to fall to the bottom of the list.

But according to this little test, I'm just a big ol' softie. Lies, I tell you, lies!

Hamlet

You scored 0 evilness, 72 romance, 36 tragic, and 27 comic!

Philosophical procrastinator, Hamlet is among the greatest tragic
characters ever created. In dispair over his father's murder and his
mother's marriage to his uncle, Hamlet discovers that his new
stepfather and uncle is his father's killer. But Hamlet thinks about
revenge too long, which costs him his life.

My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 0% on evilness
You scored higher than 99% on romance
You scored higher than 15% on tragic
You scored higher than 0% on comic

Link: The Shakespeare Character Test written by mandi_g on Ok Cupid

Stay Gold, Pony Boy

2005-09-12T19:28:00.000-07:00

Coppola is bringing out an extended version of The Outsiders.

22 minutes longer. 22 minutes more of the golden years of Ralph Macchio, Patrick Swayze, Tom Cruise, Emilio Estevez, C. Thomas Howell, Matt Dillon and even Diane Lane. But has it really been 23 years?

It's out September 20. Just in time for my birthday too.

Red Green would be proud

2005-09-12T19:24:00.000-07:00

Passengers subdue an unruly man on a plane with duct tape.

Something tells me Red Green is smiling somewhere about it. Let's just hope we don't get all swabbed for adhesive from now on in the security checks.

Painful news

2005-09-12T17:14:00.000-07:00

Hearing the news today that Baby Susan passed away, the premature baby girl born 3 months after her mother suffered an illness that rendered her braindead, after 5 weeks made my heart break.

My heart goes out to the Torres family. While their time with their daughter was so painfully brief, I can only feel that it was a blessing they were able meet her and spend a few weeks with their daughter in what was obviously a most horrific time.

Michelle Malkin has more here.

4 years

2005-09-11T19:33:00.000-07:00

4 years since the world changed forever. 4 years since nearly 3,000 people lost their lives, including 26 Canadians. Our innocence shaken and lost.

My first words spoken that morning will never leave me. I called my mother and said 'The world's gone mad!' I don't even use that word in that context - mad - but I couldn't find the right ones to say.

It's easy to become complacent. Numbers fade the stories of the people. The pain we all felt as we waited in those days following September 11. Knowing people were trapped, knowing so many were so severely injured. Many lost their lives that day, but countless more were wounded - physically and emotionally. The children who will never know their parents. The families forever scarred by their missing loved ones.

There are many tributes out there today and I could do no better justice to the memory except to point out a couple that I thought were particularly moving.

Blackfive has a poem you should all read - The Day We Became One People .

Girl on The Right gets to the point in a selection of pictures you need to see.

A emotional slideshow of the scenes from that day is here.

Michelle Malkin has a fantastic dont-miss roundup of posts and pictures.

Vancouver remembers.

I remember.

Photography

2005-09-11T10:01:00.000-07:00

Photography has always been a passion of mine, but one I know very little about. I take literally thousands of shots, where ever I go and am highly critical of the results. Ms Thang has probably had about 4,000 pictures taken and she now just rolls her eyes at the site of my camera. I'm sure Little Dude will learn to do the same but at the moment , he is just a big ham.

My cousin was an award-winning photographer, and her work was breathtaking. I always envied that. When she passed on, I inherited her camera and accessories, but they sit in a closet as I'm too intimidated to even begin to try an SLR. So I work with my 7.0MP digital camera and it does most of what I want to do, although I know there is much much more.

I decided to bite the bullet and signed up for a photography course starting September 27. It's not a long course, but includes 2 outdoor field trips and a little trainer on Photoshop. In my wildest dreams, I would love to be a professional but I know the competition is extremely fierce and well, I have no illusions I am just one of many. But it's something I enjoy deeply, all the same.

The pictures below are some of my favourites over the years:

Tall Ship Festival, Steveston BC 2003

Sunrise in Avignon, France 1997

Wild zebras, Pilanesburg, South Africa 1998 (Up until this point, I would never have believed zebras could really be camoflauged!)

Lions Gate Bridge, Vancouver - 2003 from a Cessna

Nature's Beauty

2005-09-10T12:01:00.000-07:00

Last night was the most beautiful sunset I'd seen in a long while. Considering the windstorm we had the night before, it was an amazing sight.

The windstorm the night before caused quite a lot of excitement, as a gust took my front fence down. The area I live in gets the wind stronger than most places because it's right on the water, and my house is one of the first the wind hits coming off the water after 30km. We often lose branches and trees in this area every fall, and the low growl of the wind is a common sound in the autumn.

But hearing my fence catch the wind and fall over was a bit shocking. A neighbour and I tried to shore it up, but during the night the continued gusts were too much. I had to climb over the 4 ft., which was at a 45 deg. angle to get to my car for work in the morning. And considering my lack of gracefulness with this knee, I am just hoping no neighbour happened to be watching out the window!

Still really feeling ill and am still on liquid diet. This is now over 2 weeks of naught but broth and juice. Although the last couple days, I've been wild and crazy adding buttermilk biscuits to the mix. Ooooh, hold me back! Unfortunately, things have not settled which lead me to the thought that I should just start eating all the bad things - chocolate and the like, as this seems to be some sort of free calorie week.

And I figure the fact I'm saving so much money by not being able to go out and drive anywhere, I may just have to splurge on something nice.

What Saint Are You?

2005-09-08T09:09:00.000-07:00

Noted this on Rebecca's site and thought it was a good time-waster. Oh, that's probably not too saintlike is it?

You are Saint Francis of Assisi! You don't care
what you look like (or smell like) as long as
you can live simply and help the poor. You
should be receiving your stigmata any day now.

Which Saint Are You?
brought to you by

Having a bit of relapse again so posting will be light for a while.

Critical Mass

2005-09-06T21:14:00.000-07:00

I went back to work today. It was a little strange...people acted a bit odd, and I wonder if honesty wasn't the best policy. Should I have just stuck with the 'flu' instead of telling them the truth - that diverticular disease decided to rise it's ugly head again?

One girl, the one I usually have lunch with seemed all shy and when I confronted her, she admitted she didn't want to have lunch because she felt bad I can't eat. I told her I would feel much worse if people started treating me differently. I guess it's just frustrating. I am not hiding what's wrong with me, although it's not a great conversation starter. I do try to keep it honest, yet discreet. But, truly, I think half the problem with Crohn's, DD, colitis and the like, is that it's one of those taboo topics. No one wants to hear about it and well, I don't like it much either, but I'd rather have something out in the open than questionable.

I am feeling a lot better, although still very tired. It will take time. This bout was nearly as bad as my week-long hospitalization in 2003 and it scares me, if I stop to think about it, that I will not get better. That this is with me for the long haul and will eventually require much more drastic measures. But I try not to stop to think about it...the time will come and I will deal with it then.

I am worried very much though about whether this hinders my chance at a full-time position at this place. The thought was bantied around, and they seemed pleased with my work, but given that they now know I have health problems, what is the chance now? But on the other hand, it is not optimal. The communication between departments is abyssmal and I am often left frustrated and annoyed. So I will just have to let the chips fall where they may.

As far as current news goes, I am at critical mass. I cannot, after nearly a full week of at least 12 hours a day, watching TV, live feeds and listening to scanners take more. I didn't realize how bad it had gotten until I found myself watching stupid insipid comedies like 'Keeping Up Appearances' just to keep my mind straight. I've also read a 1200-page book in the last day and a half and am finding much relief in sticking my nose of a swashbuckling, 18th century adventure novel.

For me, the focus on the pets was almost too much. I was shocked at the children's stories, the tragedies of the families and so on, but seeing those near-starved pups dying on TV broke my heart. I have hugged Molly far too often these last few days, and promised never to leave her....even if she does drive me absolutely insane at times.

Ms. Thang had her first day at (pre)-school today. The first day without her mom or any family around her and well, she did just fine. The rest of us, we're not sure of though. I think the whole family held their breath for the 2 hours she was there. But she came out, pleased as all can be, for painting a picture all by herself. She didn't even seem to realize no one was there but her!

And with that, I'm back to my book.

Sean Penn

2005-09-04T18:23:00.000-07:00

Looks like Penn's attempt at heroism got off to a less than stellar start.

Precisely why entertainers should entertain, and let the professional emergency workers do what they do best. Last thing you need is energy spent on someone ill-prepared and trying to play hero when it could be spent helping those that truly need it.

Photos and more here. (And why is he wearing a white bullet proof vest?)

Happiness

2005-09-04T14:05:00.000-07:00

A moment of happiness when everything else seems so upturned.

What else are big sisters for?

Little Dude has mastered the art of crawling now. There is no stopping him, either.

Two weeks in a motorhome - or as Ms Thang calls it, Bumpa's Bus - has been an adventure. They drove all through BC and Alberta.

At one point, as they were entering the Rockies, Hayley exclaimed 'Bumpa, I didn't KNOW you could make mountains that big!' Everything seem different through a little one's eyes.