Mrs. Loudshoes

Clearly The Cutest Thing I Ever Made

2012-01-23T15:01:00.001-05:00

I cannot begin to tell you how delighted I am with these little baby booties. I keep showing them to people and saying "squeeeeee!"

I got the pattern from Ravelry (The Cutest Booties), which if you are a knitter or crocheter and you have not discovered Ravelry, you should go there immediately, and be prepared to lose a day.

The woman who came up with the pattern writes a blog (The Yarn Harlot)about knitting and such, that I read almost every day. She taught me how to knit socks, for which I am eternally grateful. She lives in Toronto, and I would totally try to meet her and be her friend if it wasn't entirely too stalkerish.

I haven't decided who's fat little feet will be encased in these adorable little booties, but I'm sure some baby will come along. (They have a habit of doing that.) When it happens, I will be ready!

Happy Birthday to Me!

2012-01-17T20:14:00.001-05:00

I turned 50 this past weekend. I'm still wondering how that happened; I was only 30 a couple of months ago, I swear.

I'm happy enough to be 50; let's face it, the only way to avoid being 50 is dying, and I'm not up for that. There are certain perks to being 50, like no one expects me to look good in a bathing suit, and my true "cranky old crazy" personality doesn't have to be reined in any more. I don't even have to pretend to have a waist, and going to bed at 8 pm will be perfectly acceptable.

I've learned a few things in 50 years; I wish I'd known then what I know now.

Dear 13 Year Old Self:
No one is looking at you. I know you are incredibly self-concious, and that the rest of the world is watching your every move and judging you harshly, but they're not. You are. Everyone else is starring in their own movie, and nobody's paying any attention to you. There is no "Rule Book", and nobody else has read it, either. You can do whatever you want. Honest.

Dear 14 Year Old Self:
Friends, real friends, add value to your life and make you happy, and you do the same for them. You don't have to hang out with people you don't like.

Dear 16 Year Old Self:
That there new fangled stuff? Sunscreen? Go get some and put it on every day of your life. Your pasty, white, fish-belly Irish skin has no business being out in the sun.

Dear 19 Year Old Self:
Don't drop French in University. And that Biology course is going to be a bitch.

Dear 20 Year Old Self:
That guy who you keep running into all over campus, who always makes a point of talking to you, even though he has nothing to say? He likes you, you idiot. Smile and talk back. Jeesh.

Dear 22 Year Old Self:
You know that voice that says "put down the drink and go home"? Listen to it.

Dear 24 Year Old Self:
It's all going to be okay. No decision is cast in stone, you can change your mind later.

Dear 25 Year Old Self:
Start saving for retirement now. Yes, really. You don't need another pair of shoes, you will need to eat when you're 70.

Dear 26 Year Old Self:
When that guy you meet at that dance asks you out, say no. And then run away.

Dear 27 Year Old Self:
Relax, you've already met Prince Charming. He's funny and nice and you actually already like him very much, but it's a bit complicated at the moment; he lives with another woman, among other things. But it will all work out in the end, and you two will build a great life together. There really is a "happily ever after", but you are going to have to display some patience in the meantime, which you are not great at, and maybe you could work on that, too.

Dear 30 Year Old Self:
The next few years are going to be very busy and exciting, and you are going to have everything you ever wanted.
It's all going to be fabulous.

Love,
Your 50 Year Old Self

Family Bonding at the Loudshoes

2012-01-12T20:35:00.000-05:00

I got a text from Thing 2's cell phone this afternoon:

(Cell Phone): "Heeheyyy mMom! Ccan i gget a tattoooo on daaa bummmmmm???????todayyy??"

(Me): "Sure. I have a coupon."

(Cell Phone) "Best Friend took my phone and texted that. But it's nice to know I have your support".

(Me): "Always".

Telemarketing Follies

2012-01-11T20:16:00.000-05:00

From time to time, meaning, at least once an hour, we get a phone call at work from a telemarketer. Lots and lots of phone calls from people who want to speak to the Mister and get him to buy something, or sign up for something, or donate something or give them something.
I get that telemarketing must be the most miserable of all jobs on God's green earth. No one wants to be a telemarketer; I imagine they've fallen into it because fate has consipired againste them, they were desperate and had no other choice, sort of like a Victorian prostitute. Really, you won't find any seven-year-olds proclaiming that when they grow up, they want to be a telemarketer.

And I get that that's their job, to get to the Mister. Just as it is the receptionist at work's job to make sure they don't ever get anywhere near the Mister. And the receptionist at work, Barb, takes this aspect of her job deadly seriously. The only time the Mister has to deal with a telemarketer is when Barb is off on vacation, or when she's reallly pissed at him.

She is always (well, usually) very polite and says the Mister is busy with a client, and if they leave their name and number, she will pass it on. She usually pretends to take down the information and that's the end of it. On occasion, they are on to her, and ask if they can call back another time, when he's available to come to the phone, and she politely says "no", without explanation. That often gets a puzzled silence on the other end of the phone before they say "okay" and hang up. Once a telemarketer, who was already having a pretty bad day, snotted that we had a funny way of doing business, and she'd appreciate if Barb would just get the Mister already and stop screwing around. Barb hung up on her, and then called the company back and pitched the mother of all hissy fits. I'm pretty sure that young woman isn't in telemarketing any more.

Most of the time, you can tell when the telemarketing company has no idea who or what they are calling. If they use the Mister's name at all, they usually get it wrong, or assume he's a woman. (In that case, Barb tell's them she's the Mister, and expidites matters. It's all in the name of efficiency.) I like the ones who call asking if they can speak to the "Head of Accounts Recievable", or "the Manager in Charge of Human Resources". We are a hair salon with 12 employees, 11 of whom are women: ALL of us think we are in charge of Human Resources. And I guess Barb is the head of Accounts Recievable, because she's the one who knows how to work the debit machine.
I like when they try to sell us things like calendars and pens as "client and employee incentives". Seriously? How awful is your job when you are inspired by a crappy pen with your company's name on it? (I know!! A You're a telemarketer!) Our staff is way more likely to find incentive in a plate of natchos or a Lululemon gift certificate.
We are a very low tech operation.

Barb has told people that the Mister won't tell her when he's coming in to work, that he's on vacation and she doesn't know when he'll be back, or that he's been too busy to come to the phone. She's toyed with the idea of telling people he's in rehab or a the casino.

I've suggested that she use my brother's standard phrase when we were teenagers and someone would call looking for me: "She went crazy and we had to shoot her."

That should shut them up. It worked for my brother.

To Your Health.

2012-01-09T19:31:00.000-05:00

I'm afraid the blog has been very far down on the totem pole of priorities these past few weeks. With my dad still in the hospital, Christmas and dealing with the Mister's continuing dodgy kidney stones, there's not been much down time around here.

My dad's been in the hospital for two months now; two different hospitals at least. The second hospital is more of a rehab place; not rehab as in "he's a meth addict", but rehab as in "after six weeks in bed, his knees have seized up like the Tin Man on the 'Wizard of Oz'." It's still a hospital, though....same circus, different clowns. He'd rather be home, but until he can walk up the two steps into his house, he's in the hosptial.

They let him out for a few hours on Christmas Day and New Years Day (again, the parallels between hospital and jail are really very unnerving.) and we got in into the house in a wheelchair.
Luckily, we didn't drop him....can you imagine explaining that one to the paramedics? ("Well, I though he had him!"). Hopefully, Dad will be home for good at the end of this month.

Thing 1 had some nasty toe surgery in November, too. She's had a persistent ingrown toenail for the past few years, and if you've ever had a banjaxed toe, you know how it can take over your life. It's hard to think of anything else when your feet hurt.
The guy who did the surgery was very nice, and very enthusiastic about his work. A little disturbingly so....he has a website and everything. ("At least he's found his niche", oberved my mother.) He explained the whole thing to the Mister and Thing 1, in the most spirited manner; he even whipped out a photo album of "before and afters". ("And he didn't even warn us!" complained Thing 1)
Anyway, she was on crutches for a few weeks, and had to wear old man slippers for a few more, and was in a lot of pain. If she thought her toe hurt before the surgery, she redefined the word afterwards.
Now she walks like a normal person again, and can wear regular shoes, but is in no rush for flip-flop season.

The Mister has had kidney stones on and off for many years; his first bout of them was when he was 8. They don't bother him for years, and then they jump up and say "howdy" and he's cut off at the knees for the duration. Usually, he can pass the stone (always a fun night) and then he's okay for a few more years, but this has bothered him on and off since August. (He had an attack when we were in England, so we got to investigate the British hospital system, which was very nice, all things considered.)
We went to the emergency room a couple of times over the Christmas season, leaving with a percocet perscription and a hearty "good luck!" every time. Finally, he was able to get an appointment with a urologist, who's set him up with a lithotripsy appointment. (Lithotripsy is the procedure whereby they pummel the stone into submission with ultrasound waves from the outside of your body. The Mister had it done before, and said it's like having someone flick their finger in the same spot for about a hundred times.)
They are hoping this will break up the stone enough for him to pass them without passing out.

Thing 2 and I are fine; so far we are not costing the health care system anything. But if OHIP goes broke in 2012, I suspect my family will be the cause.

I'm Mrs Loudshoes.

2011-12-20T20:17:00.000-05:00

I'm not graceful. There is a reason I call myself "Mrs. Loudshoes".....I'm heavy on my feet, I make a LOT of noise, and I fall down a lot.
I've been known to drop apples I'm actually in the process of eating, and watch them bounce across the floor of the salon.
I once burned my hip with a curling iron. (I was a teenager, doing my hair in the bathroom and wearing only my underwear. I dropped the hot iron and it bounced off my hip before falling into the toilet. Luckily the momentum of the drop pulled the plug out of the outlet, or I'd have never figured out how to grab the sizzling iron out of the water. I looked like I'd been branded by a very unimaginative cowboy.)
One winter's night, I was crossing the street down near the salon, and there were huge snowbanks on the sides of the road. I had to scramble up the side of one snowbank, to reach the sidewalk, and managed to loose my footing so that I slid back onto the road and underneath a parked car.

Within the past few weeks, I have managed to surpass even my own, lowest expectations of clumsiness.

While walking through the hospital parking building, I was leaving the car and tossed my purse onto my shoulder, so that it hung crossed over my body. Somehow, I managed to fling it entirely over my head and it landed on the ground in front of me. And then I tripped over it.
While also leaving the same hospital, I thought the doors closest to the parking lot were automatic. Turns out they weren't and I walked solidly and loudly right into the doors. The guy behind me was trying to be polite, and he asked if I was ok, but I knew he was desperately trying to hold in his laughter.
Today at work, I licked an envelope and got a paper cut on my tongue.
While opening a can of tuna for Toby the other morning, I carefully dumped the contents into a tupperware container, only to drop it on my slippers. Now they smell like "Eau du Thon", and Toby LOVES them with an unseemly passion.

I dont' think I'll ever dance for the Bolshoi.

Putting the "Hospital" in "Hospitality"

2011-12-15T21:57:00.000-05:00

I've been hanging out around hospitals a LOT lately. It really is a whole new world to me; I've never been sick enough to have to spend much time in one, and thankfully, no one else I know has, either. And thank goodness, because hospitals are not places you want to spend much time in.

Luckily, we have health care in Canada, and we don't have to worry about the cost of my father's six-week hospital stay. At least once a week, one of us exclaims "Thank GOD for Tommy Douglas!" (Tommy Douglas is the father of universal health care in Canada, and in case you didn't know, Kiefer Sutherland's grandfather, either one of which would qualify him as a bad-ass.) And believe me, I'm sincerely grateful to enjoy state-supplied health insurance, but I wish I had been able to take out some sort of "parking insurance", because the parking fees at the hospital are going to be the death of me. We live sort of close to the hospital, so I can walk there, or take the bus. Otherwise, I'd be having to have a chat with my bank manager about our Line of Credit and the hospital parking.

Hospitals are no place for sick people. They are noisy and smelly and bright and generally not a good place to try to get some rest. Not to mention the fact that they are, ironically, full of sick people, so it's a good place to get even more crap to make you feel worse.

Whatever they pay nurses, it's not nearly enough. They work incredibly hard, and with a lot of good humor and upbeat attitudes. Everyone of them has been phenomenal; I can't credit them enough.

There is one doctor there who's dealing with my dad that is, very possibly, the most good looking man I've ever had the pleasure to lay eyes on. He's Iranian, and he has awesome hair, and it's very difficult to focus on what he's actually saying, because he is so delicious. Even my father, in the ICU, said as he left, "that is one handsome man". If they guy in the bed fighting to stay alive notices how attractive you are, I'd say you're in the top 1%, easily.

I'm not sure how hospitals in the US or any other country, functions without Tim Horton's. There are two in dad's hospital alone. And there are line ups at both of them, all the time. You can tell if the one in the lobby is closed, even before you come around the corner from the parking lot, because of all the people staggering around the main floor, holding their heads and sobbing. They weep with gratitude when you tell them there's another one on the third floor in the cafeteria.

The cafeteria is the strangest place....it's hidden away, first of all; you practially need a GPS and a Sherpa guide to find the place. And it's oddly empty and unpopulated, except for the line up of thirty people trying to pay. There never seems to be any but just the one cashier, and she either started today, without any training whatsoever, or she has brain damage and cannot give you change from a 10 without a calculator and consulting most of her fingers. It takes a glacial age to get out of there, and then you find out your coffee is actually tea.

The elevators at the hospital are very slow...there are four of them, but only two work. This means that you wait quite a while in the lobby for one to come down, and there's a crowd by then. I've smartened up and get on when it's going down to the basement, and then I ride back up and people look at me in astonishment when they realize I'd been waiting with them just a minute ago or so, and I'm already on the elevator. It freaks them out every time. You can fit a lot of people on an elevator, especially when no one's in a wheel chair. I had no idea elevators can double as clown cars.

They are moving my dad to another hospital soon, a re-hab place where he can get up and on his feet a bit better. I hope the parking lot is good.

Amazing Race 19, Episode 11 (Finale)

2011-12-12T10:15:00.000-05:00

That was, possibly, the most boring finale we've ever had. Once Jeremy and Sandy got to the wrong "Dump", it was all over. Not that I mind Cindy and Ernie winning it, particularly, but it was far from interesting, no matter how suspenseful they edited the taxi rides.

Having said all that, I'm perfectly happy with Ernie winning, but I'm not too crazy about Cindy. I hope her "Foundation to Help A Students Continue to Beat the Snot Out of C Students" is wildly successful, and they erect a statue in her honor of her standing on Ernie's broken and battered body.

Amani is still my favorite racer ever ever. How she stayed calm and patient through twelve freaking attempts at landing that fake plane, I'll never know. I'd have lost my shit altogether by try #7.
Speaking of which, Thing 1 and I would have lost the whole race right there, too. We'd still be there, trying to land that plane. I can't even play "Candy Train" on my phone for 5 minutes without crashing it....the pressure of killing all those thousands of fake people would be too much for me.
We both remarked, however, that The Mister would have have rocked it; he's spent a million hours flying fake planes in video games....finally that would have paid off.

Can you imagine Lawrence doing that challenge? He'd have made Zac do it, and then tell him how he would have been so much better at it.

I can understand Jeremy and Sandy running around that store for a while, I mean, it's called "The Dump" and it would be hard to leave without investigating it thoroughly. However,it's hard to beleive that that place was a former residence.....do people ususally live in industrial spaces the size of airplane hangars?

I thought for sure there'd be some sort of final task involving all the weird clue-boxes. Maybe they thought that map would be more difficult. It didn't even look like old Ernie even got in a word edgewise.

Too bad Cathi and Bill didn't get a crack at that typewriter task; they'd have nailed it! I knew from typing papers on an ancient typewriter that the lower case "l" can be used as a "1", and that an exclamation point can be manufactured by using an apostrophe and a period. They should have made them re-thread the ribbon in that thing, without getting ink all over the carpet and walls, for a real challenge.

I'm disappointed that the "Gone With the Wind" challenge didnt' have to do with making a hoop skirt out of of the draperies.

I think that was mean to make them run up-hill towards the Amazing Bathmat. July in Atlanta is pretty hot and muggy, I imagine. Everyone at the finish line looked pretty sweaty, even the ones that didn't run as decoys at the end.

The new race is being filmed right now, and will air in February.
Until next season!!

In Sickness and In Health

2011-12-09T11:48:00.000-05:00

I've been neglecting my blog lately; I've been neglecting almost everything, lately. My father has been seriously ill, and I have come to realize that having a sick family member is a full-time job.

My 76 year old dad has been having some heart trouble over the past few years, which eventually meant that he required by-pass surgery, or risk having a heart attack. He had the surgery, which went well, but the ensuing complications, including two more surgeries and four stints in the ICU has meant that he's been in the hospital just over a month. The initial surgery, the triple by-pass, seems to have been successful, and he's getting better....slowly.

It's been a roller coaster, for all of us. (For example, when the ICU calls at 1 in the morning and says "you should probably come down here", you don't just roll over and go back to sleep.) And whatever it's taken out of me to be dealing with the time and the emotions and the stress of it all,or my brother travelling down here on the weekends, it's been way harder on my mother. And whatever we are going through, my father has to deal with it ten times more and then some.

And over the past month, the phrase "in sickness and in health" has flitted through my mind more than once. Every step of the way, my mother has been in that hospital, at my dad's bedside, holding his hand. Every day. For hours at a time. Without complaint. And it's not because she "has" to be there, it's because she wants to. Because she couldn't let him go through any of this alone, and because she knows he would do the same for her. She's had her good days, and her bad, and my mother is no martyr, she's perfectly capable of saying "these are my limitations and I'm at them". But after 53 years of marriage, she and my dad know that there is nothing they have to deal that isn't made better with the other one there.

We hope he can come home shortly, and that his recovery is steady and smooth. And whatever we've gone through in the past month has been worth it; because he's still here.

Amazing Race 19, Episode 10

2011-12-05T09:06:00.000-05:00

Holy Elimination, Batman! I thought Andy and Tommy were a shoe-in for the Final Three. What do you know. I didn't love them or hate them, but they've been so dominant, I thought for sure they'd win the whole thing. It was bad luck for the Snowboarders that this leg was all about the mental tasks; that is their Kriptonite. (Did they really not know who Charlie Chaplin is?)

The good thing is, now the Final Leg is up for grabs; any one of these three teams could win, and I'd be happy if any one of them did.

On thing I love about this Race is that your performance on every leg matters more than how well you've done all the way along. Other than mess with your head, not coming in first every time doesn't have an impact on your chances of winning the million bucks.

If I have one phobia, it involves being in the water in the dark. That boat ride in the pitch dark on the river would have freaked me out, and if I'd have had to get out of the boat into the water? There would have been a Mrs. Loudshoes-sized hole in the universe, as I tried to escape this dimension altogether. Sandy was remarkaby calm when their boat went aground.

Those mosquito nets looked more like they were the gauzy decoration in a Madonna video than actual protection against mosquitos. I hope they were packing some major DEET with them.

Favorite Line of the Night: Marcus said "that music makes me think we are getting a crash course in head-shrinking!
And also, from Cindy, later: "HOLY BALLS!" That is my new band name.

Sandy said that it didn't matter if they came in first, just that they avoid being last. She needs to sit down and have that talk with Cindy.

Oh my, that tightrope challenge looked scary. Thing 1 and I both said we'd hate it, but we could do it. We'd be crying all the way, but we'd do it.
Sandy looked really scared, but man, did she buck up and do it. I was very impressed! Even with Andy yelling at her, which was a dick move because he was already done and there was no advantage to him.

I want a pair of those sandals! They looked very nice. (Well, not the ones the racers made, those looke like ass. But the ones the locals made were really nice.)

So, Marcus's Magic Bad Luck Rocks that he threw out the window really did work on the Snowboarders? He should maybe go back and find those; he might be on to something there.

Next week: Atlanta! I hope they have some "Gone With the Wind" themed task, and someone has to burn down the city, or wear a hoop skirt. Marcus, in particular, would look fetching in a hoop skirt.

Until next week!

Best Books of 2011

2011-12-01T22:28:00.000-05:00

These were some of the books that kept me in very good company this past year. Some of them were funny and some of them were sad, some of them made me think and some of them entertained me entirely. They may not be "the best" books of 2011, but they were the best books I read this year.

1 The Boy In the Moon by Ian Brown
Toronto writier Ian Brown's memoir about being a father to his severely disabled son, Walker. Sweet and poignant and honest, this is book is beautifully written and well worth reading.

2. Cutting for Stone by Abraham Verghese The story of twin brothers who grow up in Ethiopia during the '70s and become doctors. This is a story about family and siblings and love, and even though I had a hard time getting into it, I'm glad I persisted.

3. The Best Laid Plans by Terry Fallis Who in their right mind said "I know, a novel about Canadian politics and Parlaimentary procedures! Why hasnt' anyone done that before?" But it works, and really well. This novel was funny and dry and really quite entertaining. Really, who knew?

4. A Red Herring Without Mustard by Alan Bradley This is the third book in the "Flavia de Luce" series, a series which I am enjoying very much. A murder mystery set in England shortly after the war, which kept me highly entertained. The fourth one just came out, so expect to see it on next year's list.

5. Bossypants by Tina Fey This sort-of-memoir was sharp and funny and very good. I laughed out loud a number of times, and it also made me think. A winning combination, always.

6. At Home by Bill Bryson I'd read almost anything by Bill Bryson, and this history of the home did not disappoint. From telling me about how people treated their servants to how wallpaper was invented to why we call big houses a "Hall" to the important ratio of rise to stair, this book was fascinating and delightful. My mother was reading it at the same time when we were in Florida on vacation, and we'd both say things like "did you get to the part about the bathrooms yet? OOOO, wait 'til he talks about indoor plumbing!", like we were reading a juicy novel.

7. The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein The narrator is a Golden Lab who tells the story of his owner and their life together. I really enjoyed this book, and I've never looked at any dog the same way again.

8 One Day by David Nicholl This story visits two friends on the same day, every year, for twenty years, and explores the ups and downs of two people who grow up, grow apart and grow together. And you would not believe the day I started this book! Friday July 15th, the day the book starts! It was meant to be!!

9 The Thousand Autumns of Jacob De Zoet by David Mitchell One of my clients gave me this book for Christmas, and I felt duty-bound to give it a try. And I was glad I did; it was good. Dutch merchants and Japanese citzens try to co-exist in 18th Century Nagasaki, and the societies of both are never quite the same because of that contact. This time and place really came to life.

10. Villa Triste by Lucretia Grindle Switching back and forth between Italy during the war and the present day, this historical mystery was very compelling.

11 A Homemade Life by Molly Wizenberg My father has been quite sick in hospital for the past few weeks, and I've been too preoccupied to read much. Big Liver Girl gave me this memoir/cookbook to read, and I fell head over heels into it. Sitting in the ICU waiting room, drooling over the recipes, I also enjoyed the stories and memories that went with each one. I wanted to eat this book, she made everything sound so, so good. It was exactly the right book that I needed, and I enjoyed it very, very much. The only problem I had with it is that I have to wait until the summer to make the Cherry, Arugula and Goat Cheese Salad that I will crave every day until cherry season.

Amazing Race 17, Episode 10

2011-11-28T20:40:00.001-05:00

Cathi and Bill were very nice, I really liked them but they lacked hustle. (Exhibit A: the first episode where they wandered around Taipei for hours and make me very shouty.) I think they were pretty tired, too. Killer Fatigue must be brutal by this point in the race. But anyone who can rock a bikini and speedo in their sixties like those two did totally get kudos from me.

It's about this time watching the opening credits when I find myself saying "hey, remember them? I forgot they were even on this thing!"

When that band was playing in the little pavilion at the Non-Pit-Stop, were they all playing the same tune?

I would have loved that Roadblock; I thought it looked like so much fun! (Thing 2: "That's because you drive like that every frigging day.") Any legit reason to do donuts is fine by me. And just to tell you, doing donuts in a K-Mark parking lot at 1 am in January is ridiculously easy and not for the faint of heart...you whip around really fast on icy ground, and that will make you puke faster than a tea-cup ride at Legoland.

There is a tv show here called "Canada's Worst Driver", and which is fabulous by the way, it will make you feel incredibly and vastly superior to almost every person on it. They make people do slaloms all the time, and you wouldn't believe the number of people who cannot, cannot do it. They take 20, 30 tries at it and still carreen wildly out of control or hit every single pylon. I love that show.

Why was Cindy wearing a helmet while she waited for Ernie to do the Roadblock. Is there a danger of head injuries while sitting in a tire that I'm not aware of?

I loved the teams snarking on Lawrence while they built those rafts. He must have been a real pleasure to be around.

You know, I spend two weeks travelling around three countries in Europe with my family this summer, and there were several times when I was so tired and overwhelmed and weary that I wanted to curl up in a subway station and cry. I can't imagine how exhausted and pooped these guys must be. I liked Marcus's little pep talk to himself; that was cute. And even cuter was Amani's little smile while he was doing it. I have a major girl-crush on that woman.

I don't think anyone was more relieved when Jeremy and Sandy got that waffle thing right than that 14 year old judge. He was practically crying when they said they might do the other task. I would have been very hard pressed not to take a few waffles with me, for a snack later.

Atomium! I was hoping they would go there!

The greeter looked like maybe she was Jimmy Neutron's older sister who ran off to become a stewardess.

Until next week!

Amazing Race 19, Episode 9

2011-11-21T07:58:00.003-05:00

Man, of all the tasks they've had in 19 seasons of this race, I think the bodybuilding task will go down as the most soul-destroying. That is the first time Thing 1 and I have ever looked at each other and said "maybe we aren't cut out to be racers".
I'm just glad Lawrence wasn't there.
Apart from the idea of Lawrence in a speedo making me queasier than doing a puzzle on a tea-cup ride, I can just hear him going on and on about how his being the front man in a rock and roll band prepared him for posing semi-nude, and how Zac sucks at it.

Note to self: on "List of Preparations to Particpate in the Amazing Race", add "full body wax" to "know how to drive a manual transmission", "be able to read a map" and "learn Chinese".

I now have a full-fledged girl crush on Amani. I lurve that woman. Not only is she competent, calm and capable of anything, she does it all without any drama or whining. She kicks all kinds of ass, and I want to be her when I grow up.
And she puts up with Marcus relating every. single. damn. experience to being in the NFL without losing her shit and beating the snot out of him.

I can tell you, from personal experience, that riding a bike on cobblestones is really very unpleasant. Not only is it freaking hard work, it will rattle the fillings right out of your teeth, and your eyeballs are bouncing around in your head so much it's hard to see where you are going.

Nice to see Willie Wonka getting some work after Charlie took over the Chocolate Factory.

I want to go to Legoland!!

I'm a little disappointed that Sandy didn't throw up after all that talk about it. She kept promising.

Who knew that the Snowboarders' Achilles heels would be drama and speedos?

Until next week!

full body wax in preparaton cath's former students
i want to look like cathi
amani really does kick all kinds of ass

Amazing Race 19, Episode 8

2011-11-14T18:12:00.002-05:00

First of all, Ernie, first place was NOT STOLEN from you last week, you LOST it. Someone else got to the mat first. That's how a race works. Secondly, it was not yours to begin with, so no one can "steal" that from you. Maybe if you were an "A" student you would have got that.

Thing 1 and I were all "I've been to that airport in Amsterdam!!", even though all airports look pretty much alike, and we didn't see anything remotely familiar in that footage. But we were there! About a month after this was shot! (I wonder if Marcus and Amani got any cute windmill fridge magnets, like we did.)

Man, I love Marcus and Amani, I really do, but they are making it very hard for me to keep loving them when they make such freaking stupid mistakes. When the clue says "you may search for other flights" it means "get off your ass and look for a better flight because there is one! Or two! Maybe even three!! Seriously, get moving!!"
And dude, if you are lost, you have already lost control of the situation. Suck it up and ask.

God, I'm glad Lawrence is out, only because I got tired of that egotistical blowhard tooting his own horn. If he's so freaking good at everything, why did he let Zac do most of the Roadblocks? And somehow, fronting a rock and roll band (I'll bet it was the Beatles!!) has very little to do with Renaissance Danish dancing, methinks.
Also, I'm glad Lawrence is out because it will spare us the sight of him in a Speedo next week.

Speckles for the win! How cute was that bunny? (I guess all bunnies are inherently cute; they're bunnies!) But Speckles really seemed to turn it on for the racers.
And how cute was Marcus cheering on the bunny and giving him a pep talk? When he came up to the cages and said "is that a rabbit", when it clearly wasn't an elephant, Thing 1 remarked "he's been travelling a lot, and had a rough day".
And I really got a kick out of Phil and the bunny steeplechase....he seemed to really be enjoying himself. Phil, not the bunny.

I think I know why Cindy U-Turned Bill and Cathi, and not the more obvious choice of the snowboarders: because Bill and Cathi were the biggest threat to her getting a first place finish, and nothing in the world is more important than a first place finish! I'm still glad Cathi and Bill came in second, not bad for being U-Turned.

How the hell did Zac get himself all around the world in a yacht by himself when he can't get around Copenhagen with a map and signposts?

I kept expecting the guy at the Pitstop to bust out into the "Spongebob" theme.

Until next week!

Heart to Heart

2011-11-11T16:42:00.003-05:00

No one ever hangs around a hospital for fun, but somehow, everyone seems to have to spend some time there,whether they like it or not.

My father has been having heart trouble for the last few years, and it finally got bad enough that he had to have surgery. He's never had surgery in his life before, and for his first one, he sure picked a doozy, a triple by-pass. He came through the initial surgery just fine, and then they had to go back in and repair something else the next day. Two heart surgeries in twenty-four hours is hard on any body, but particularly tough on a 76 year-old body.
He did spend a night in the hospital a few years ago, to shock his heart into normal rhythm when it was rattling away like a roller coaster. He didn't like it much, and has spent a great deal of time avoiding going to a hospital ever since.

I find hospitals endlessly fascinating, mostly because I'm rarely in one, and am dying to know what's going on in all the other rooms.
Also, I suspect I watch too many medical tv shows, and have an idea that wildly interesting things are going on in other rooms.
I am always wanting to know what that machine is for and what does that number mean and what does that noise mena and where did the nurse grow up and what is she getting her boyfriend for Christmas. I went up to sit with my dad for the afternoon, so my mom could go and do a few things, and just as I got there, they took dad up for some x-rays. So I chatted to the man in the next bed and his wife, and I learned all about them. (And they had a dog! In the hospital! She was a lovely little dog and very well behaved, but I've never seen a dog in a hospital before. I'm not even sure they do that in France.)

It's hard to see someone you love vulnerable and diminished in a hospital bed. Especially someone you've never seen in a hospital bed before. (And why does everyone look so small in a hospital bed? )But he's doing well and coming along just fine.

We are hoping he will be home next week sometime. My friend Kelly, who's own father was in and out of the hospital a lot the last year of his life, says that when someone you love first comes home from major surgery, you're so happy to have them there you'd do anything for them, and then within a couple of days, you're back to treating them like you always have. In her words, "things go quickly from "Yes, of course, I will happily drive an hour out of my way to go get those imported kumquats from the Congo that you like" to "you'll eat the damn apples from No-Frills I bought the other day and you'll like it."" I'll be sure to treasure the honeymoon while it lasts.

If the heart surgery doesn't kill him, the hospital food might.

Amazing Race 19, Episode 7

2011-11-07T07:58:00.005-05:00

I officially LOVE Marcus. And I'm pretty hot on Amani, too. But he totally won me over with his appreciation of that two hour bus ride, being able to take it all in and enjoying it so much. Plus, no one else could have carried 8 people through the water without getting them wet.

Man, I was hoping Marcus and Amani didn't get U-Turned....that would have broken my heart. In the end, they did get U-Turned, but it was moo. (Joey, "Friends": " "Moo", it's like, a cow's opinion. It doesn't matter. It's "moo". ") Colour me confused, but HOW did Lawrence think that Marcus and Amani were behind them? He saw them five seconds earlier going away from the U-Turn station.

Speaking of Lawrence, I wouldn't have blamed Zac one bit if he had hauled off and beaned his dad in the head with that paddle. If Lawrence knew how to steer the canoe, then why wasn't he in the back? Oh, that's right, because Lawrence knows how to do everything, and no one else is as awesome as he is. Zac is a saint.

Those slidey puzzles are my Kriptonite; I cannot do them. And after a bad night's sleep, a crowded two-hour bus ride and with 40 people hanging over my shoulder, plus the pressure of keeping out of last place? I would have laid down and wept. And they did it without cussing or bitching or losing their shit altogether.
I especially loved Amani when Marcus was giving his "NFL" pep talk to the cab driver, which I'm sure she's heard like a million times, and she still thought it was hilarious.

Poor Jennifer, that killer fatigue really did a number on her...."I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do so I'll stand around with my thumb up my ass for a very long time." I've had that brain seizure from time to time, and I'm pretty thankful no one else has to put up with me but me when it happens. And I'm ususally not on television, either.

I don't blame Cindy and Ernie for using the Express Pass this leg of the race; it expires next leg and they may as well use it to get out of doing something they thought they couldn't handle. But the whining about not being first? They get no sympathy from me....it doesn't matter if you're first, you just have to not be last. Besides, the snowboarders were right, Cindy and Ernie wouldn't have first place away, either. AND Tommy and Andy won after completing the canoe task and beating them in a foot race....they rocked this leg.
You just know all the people back home who have to deal with Cindy's over-acheiving, hyper-prefectionism every single day are whooping and hollering with glee.

If anyone had been U-Turned (and it had mattered) they'd have been out for sure. That hauling stuff from the boat task would have been impossible for anyone else but Marcus....can you imagine the Grandparents doing that?

Just to tell you, Justin pinged my gaydar right from Day One. Just sayin'.

Next week: Bunny show jumping in Denmark! How weirdly awesome is that!?!

Halloween

2011-11-01T21:05:00.002-04:00

Halloween used to be a MUCH bigger deal when I had kids out trick-or-treating....now it's just a couple of hours of hanging out in the kitchen and answering the door every now and again.

The girls are too old to go out getting candy anymore....Thing 1 stayed home and answered the door with me, and Thing 2 went to a friend's house. (Where they watched scary movies and screamed themselves hoarse. I'm so glad they were at the friend's house.) Last year they went out together; Thing 2 had the brilliant idea of dressing up as Wayne and Garth from "Wayne's World", and Thing 1 had to go because what is Wayne without Garth? They said a couple of 40 year old dads were thrilled at their get-ups, but a couple of cranky old ladies snarked "is that even a costume?". (Thing 1 was offended...."like I'd ever be caught dead in real life dressed like this!")

They both dressed up for school; Thing 1 went as a flapper (and a very pretty one, at that) and Thing 2 went as a fairy princess, a good excuse to wear her grad dress and high heels again, just add a tiara and wings and, voila!

Thing 1's best friend is VERY into her Halloween costumes, and makes magnificent ones. One year she went as Pac-Man ("no more costumes with no arms!") and last year, she was a Lego man, and THIS year, she went as a dragon:

40 pieces of bristol board, 4 rolls of tape, 4 metal frames and one very, very focused teenage girl. Note that the horns are touching the cafeteria ceiling. Also note the considerably shorter door she has to exit the cafeteria from on the left of the picture.

We had the usual 3 and 4 year olds, looking particularly adorable, at around 6 pm, and then the kids getting older and older as the night wore on. One little guy, a toddler, was way more interested in Toby than the treats, and another kid declared "I LOVE this house" after we gave her a large handful of Starburst Fruit Chews and Skittles.
At around 8 pm, I heard someone say "hey, there's Toby!", so I knew it had to be one of the girls' friends. Sure enough, three rather large young men, wearing hoodies as costumes, came to to the door. They were careful to pull down their hoods to hide their faces, but Mrs. Loudshoes is a hard-ass (as they should well know from many years of pizza days at school) and demanded full disclosure. "How do I know who I'm doling out to, if I don't know who you are?" I said. "What if I was unwittingly giving out Halloween candy to Al-Quida?" They all gave in pretty fast; who knew their price was a handful of Starburst Fruit Chews and Skittles?

We got about 30 kids altogether, which means that we have lots of candy left over. So I had Starburst Fruit Chews for dinner. How come it doesn't feel so bad to eat your weight in candy when you have to unwrap 72 little portions?

Bring on Christmas!

Amazing Race 19, Episode 6

2011-10-31T07:02:00.003-04:00

They've really front-loaded the Non-Elimination Legs this time, huh? But I like Marcus and Amani, so I'm not going to get too snarky about it. I figured it was a Non-Elimination Leg when I found out they would be sleeping in the remote African village....it would be hard to get that team to Sequesterville.

Jennifer and Justin have redeemed themselves a bit....after the first couple of episodes, I thought they'd be bickering and arguing their way around the world, but they seem to have calmed down and get the job done.

Jeremy mentioned at the beginning of the episode that he and Sandy went on this show to "figure out what their (8 month) relationship is all about". Good God, man, give your head a shake. I've been with the Mister for over 20 years, and we've been through all kinds of travelling and babies and re-decorating and shit together, and we STILL don't know what our relationship is all about. Good luck with that.

Definition of Irony: There was a "No Smoking" sign in the tobacco warehouse.

Best Line of the Night: from Bill: "When it's time to cut the hay, it's time to cut the hay". I have no idea what that means, but it sure sounded deep.
Also, Cathy said "I hoped I could go a whole day without bruises."

Did anyone else notice the similarities between the racers' warehouse uniforms and prison jumpsuits?

Thing 1 and I were joyously shouting about the sewing task; we'd rock that. And who knew Marcus's grandmother's skills would help him out so much?

Lawrence is fast becoming my least favorite racer....what an ass. You know, for someone so pompous and full of himself, he's not exactly the most stellar performer here; to hear him talk, he's Indiana Jones. He can't even read the clues right, and he doesn't seem to let his son at them, either.
And don't even get me started on the "you're a woman, why aren't you sewing" schtick. Ass.
I also liked the bit where he was at the truck-building task and said something like "I'd love to spend more time with these children" and then the next shot saw him snatching the clue out of that kid's hands.

Speaking of trucks-building, I know what every kid on my Christmas list is getting this year.

The bed falling on top of Cindy and her laughing about it was certainly the episode's highlight for me....I thought she'd whine about it, but she took it pretty well.

Seriously, not ONE Madonna joke at that school? No one said anything about picking up a kid and taking him or her home? Thing 1 and I couldn't stop ourselves, once we got started.

There wasn't much of a chance for anyone to change their position, once they got off that plane. I wonder if Tommy and Andy will win this whole thing because someone else made a mistake.

Until next week!

Slip Sliding Away

2011-10-25T19:04:00.003-04:00

Way back when, when I was in University, I caught the bus to campus one very rainy day. It was about this time of year, and it had been a wet autumn.

It was the middle of the morning, and there weren't too many people on the bus. There was a row of single seats on one side of the bus, some doubles on the other side, and some benches at the back. I was at the very back, facing forward, and a middle-aged woman sitting in the singles near the middle. There was only one or two other people on board, all ahead of her and I, up near the driver.

As I said, it was a really rainy day, and everything was pretty wet. The woman sitting in the single seats was wearing a longish yellow rain slicker.

At one point, the bus made a hard, fast right turn, and the rain on her jacket must have made the seat very slippery, because she shot right off that seat and onto the floor; she didn't even have time to catch herself. It was like she'd been shoved off by invisible hands. She landed right on her bum, and pretty solidly, too, and she made an impressive noise, sort of like an "ooof", but deep and low, like someone had punched a bagpipe in the stomach. One second she was sitting on that bus seat, minding her own business, and the next she was sitting on the floor of the bus in a puddle of water, wondering how the hell that happened.

And the only one to see it all happen....was me. I quickly made like I was looking out the window and didn't see her, because I figured her day was going to go a lot better from here on in if she thought no one was looking. Meanwhile, I was practically herniating myself trying not to laugh. Not only did she shoot off that seat like a cartoon coyote off a cliff, but the noise she made was unlike anything I've ever heard before or since.
I got off a few stops later and couldn't hold it in one more second. I was laughing so hard and so long I gave myself the hiccups. And then I giggled about it every ten minutes for the rest of the day.

You know, that was almost 30 years ago, and I still laugh whenever I think about it.

I'm sure someone else has their own hilarious story that day, about seeing a young woman laughing her fool head off in the pouring rain, all by herself.

Amazing Race 19, Episode 5

2011-10-24T10:26:00.003-04:00

Man, Lawrence is a tool, isn't he? He's not Ron, but still. Maybe that kid sailed around the world by himself to get away from his dad for a while.

The Twins bugged the living shit out of me last week with their whining and bitching with the beach umbrellas, but they totally won me over with their enthuisasm and excitement at the elephant Speed Bump.....they were pretty thrilled at shovelling elephant shit. Of course, I did have to turn the sound down there for a bit, since their screeching and squealing was bothering the cat. There's a couple of deaf elephants in Thailand, now.
The way the leg was set up, they had very little chance to catch up, though. I'm glad they at least got to scrub down a baby elephant, since it meant so much to them.

Seriously, how cute are baby elephants? Those little punk hair-dos are bad ass.

I felt a bit sorry for Ernie when he said that he couldn't believe Cindy loved him, because she's and A student and he's not. Because, really, nothing defines partner suitability like your mark in Grade 11 calculus.
And then he was such a dick-wad to that cab driver, and I didn't feel so sorry for him anymore. I think Mr. Phuket Taxi Driver had every right to demand correct payment in the currency of his country, no matter what Cindy and Ernie chose to pay him. And I know U.S. dollars are often accepted in many countries around the world, but no one has to take them, they're not magical beans. And then telling him he was a terrible driver? WTF? I loved the lady who got all up in their faces and offered to call the cops. You go, Anonymous Avenging Transportation Fairy!

Speaking of cab drivers, what was with the guy wearing the wooly purple gloves? Did you notice they matched his cab? I think I would love Thailand.

My snowboarder love dropped a notch this week. I get that you are devoutly Christian, and you can believe anything you want, but saying "it's okay that I'm here because I dont' get any creepy vibes from this psudo-religion, and I know my God is the real one so neener-neener-neener" was a bit hard to listen to. On the other hand, Jennifer impressed me a lot. She showed some actual respect for another religion, while Andy and Tommy gave themselves a pat on the back for being so tolerant of others. But actions speak louder than words, and the snowboarders have given me no other reason to think they are narrow-minded jerks, so I'll give them a pass. They're no Lawrence.

What was with that teacher? "Okay, let me look this up for you, I'll be back in a minute" actually meant "You are of no interest to me, I might be back in an hour or so"? She was the worst helper ever.

No detour this week? And I notice the regular clue boxes are not around this time either....maybe the last task will be to remember what your clues came in? Poor Ernie, if they get to that point; he's going to suck at that.

I loved that nobody (except Smug Justin) thought they were safe this week; they all thought they were fighting to stay in the game. Makes it way more fun to watch when there's no clear front-runner. And seeing everyone's glee when they found out they were at the front of the pack was a riot.

Is this the Amazing Race Around Asia?

Until next week!

I Got The Power

2011-10-20T13:46:00.005-04:00

We've had a dull couple of days here, not in terms of the goings-on, but in terms of weather. Autumn in Ontario looks a lot like summer in western Ireland, by the way. It has been cool and wet and grey.
Last night things turned nasty; the wind picked up and the rain came down. It looked a bit like we might start gathering the animals two by two.

We had our two trees in the back yard trimmed last week. Our neighbour to the north asked us (very politely, I might add) back in the summer if we would take a look at the branch that hung over her backyard and threatened her kitchen roof. You know, you live with things for so long, you don't even notice them anymore? When we took a look at that tree, we were surprised at how much it had grown, and readily agreed that it was time we trimmed it. Then we realized that another limb from the second tree hovered right over our bedroom, and would render us paste if it ever fell down. We called the tree guy and paid him a shitload of money so that I could sleep better at night.

Let me tell you, I must told the Mister a dozen times last night that I was so glad we had trimmed those trees. I would have lain in bed all night waiting for the inevitable crash that signalled my untimely death. Most likely, I would have been writing the news story for the next days paper in my head all night, too...."A local woman and her husband were killed last night after a tree limb fell directly through their roof and onto their bed. Neighbours say they had begged the couple to trim the tree for weeks before the storm. The couple's two daughters say their parents were too busy fighting over who would call the tree guy to actually call the tree guy."

We've had the power go off now and again here, no big deal. I remember once the power went off when the girls were about 3 and 5, and they were in the bathtub. As luck would have it, I had just left the bathroom to go grab some towels when the lights went out. The wail and splashing that came from that bathtub would have raised the dead....it sounded like bagpipes on the Titanic.
I remember another time being in a movie theater when a thunderstorm turned the lights out. Man, movie theatres are dark. I know they are supposed to be dark, but still, the darkest dark that ever darked was in that theater. And about 100 people just sat there in silence for about 10 seconds wondering if they had just had a stroke and died.
Another time, the power went off when I was in the staff room in the basement at the salon. I was eating lunch and one of the little assistants was doing the laundry in the next room. When it all went black, I heard the most pitiful little whimper from her, and I was able to keep her from losing her shit altogether by calmly talking to her and producing a cigarette lighter. I don't know what she'd have done if she'd been down there by herself. She quit shortly thereafter; I don't know if it was because she was afraid to go down into the basement by herself after that.

It's funny how, when you know the lights are out, you still keep trying to turn them on anyway. I went into our bathroom to brush my teeth and flipped the switch. And then tried it again. And one more time for good measure. All the while pointing my flashlight at it. And then I tried it in the bedroom. Right after I went looking for the tv remote. Some habits are hard to break.

At around 11:15 the lights all came back on, the microwave beeped and the fridge hummed to life again. And the cat that was sleeping on my hip jumped about 10 feet in the air and let out a squawk that made sure I was wide awake too. I went around the house fixing all the clocks that were flashing, and turned off all the lights that were on. And tried to calm down the cat that had burst into flames in my bedroom.

All was fine this morning, no tree limbs down, the power back to normal and a slightly twitchy cat. I keep my phone handy, though, just in case.

Amazing Race 19, Episode 4

2011-10-17T11:53:00.002-04:00

I never did get to see last week's episode. Thank God for the internet; at least I got an idea of what happened.

Who knew it was so difficult to pronounce "Phuket"? At least if you are not in th e 6th grade? I'll bet the censors were tearing their hair out...."you're sending them to where??? You have the whole freaking world to choose from and you send them there? What the hell are you doing to us??".

We never did see the fall out from the Twins not having any Thai money. I wonder if that explains their taxi driver's glum expression when they hugged him; that guy looked like his dog just died.

I loved that wobbly pier! I could have bounced around on that all day! I'm kind of surprised nobody fell off it, though.

So, the Twins thought that setting up beach chairs was MORE like lifeguarding than setting up a coral nursery? Hmmmm. And apparently they had a guy that did that anyway. It would appear that neither one had anything to do with hauling lifeless bodies out of a pool. Few things do, really.

You know, if you are "kicking the tires" of your relationship, as Jeremy so charmingly puts it, I think barking at your girlfriend like she's a bad dog is one way to burn out the clutch, so to speak. I'm not sure there are many relationships in which "come here now" is an appropriate phrase, unless, of course, you do happen to be a bad dog, in which case you can go pee in someone's shoes to get your own back.

Tommy and Andy seem to be having a whole lot of fun on this race, which is more than I can say for most of them. Cindy does not appear to have ever had any fun in her entire life (unless, of course, it was scheduled into her Blackberry a couple of weeks ago, and she's allotted exactly 17.3 minutes for it.) Ernie isn't allowed to have any fun; maybe when he has earned it by mastering Portugese and can do his own dental work. Jennifer is too busy whining to have any fun. Justin is with Jennifer, so fun is out altogther. Maybe if Zac and Lawrence smoke a bit of Andy and Tommy's dope they could have some fun.

That greeter looked like a little Thai hillbilly! Did you see the size of him? Phil could have scooped him up and put him in his pocket! Actually, on second viewing, he looked a lot like the Travelocity Travel Gnome....Jerome the Gnome!

If Jennifer ever gave me that look I would punch her in the throat, no questions asked.

Until next week!

The A-Blazing Pace.

2011-10-11T08:04:00.003-04:00

We just finished our Thanksgiving weekend here, and I was way too busy stuffing my face and talking to relatives to be able to watch "The Amazing Race" yet. (Fingers crossed that the PVR actually recorded it...that thing can be a bit of a bitch sometimes.)
After work tonight, I have to go to the girls' school and attend an "information session" about trip their drama department is taking to DisneyWorld in the spring. Both girls want to go, so I think it's only fitting that I find out the where, the whens and the how muches. If it sounds like fun, I may volunteer as a chaperone....wouldn't they like that??

I will post about the Race as soon as I can!

Too Bad, So Sad.

2011-10-05T18:43:00.003-04:00

Last week was a bit hectic here at Chez Loudshoes; the Mister was bulldozed by another kidney stone attack, which resulted in two trips to the hospital, there was a skunk lurking around our front door all week, which made me very twitchy, and the weather got cold really fast, which meant I had to scramble to find shoes and socks that actually covered my entire foot, something I have not needed in almost 6 months.

While at work last Wednesday, I plugged in the kettle to make my co-worker a cup of tea, and set the Tassimo machine to make myself a cup of coffee. About half way through both processes, the coffee machine sighed heavily and stopped dead, and the kettle swooned and fainted altogether. The ventilation fan stopped, leaving the room in an ominous silence, and the lights went out. I'm no electrical engineer, but I was pretty sure we'd popped a circuit somewhere. I went down into the bowels of the basement to suss out the fuse box (and I do mean bowels...the building the salon is in is about a hundred years old, and the back room in the basement has a dirt floor and has a single naked light bulb and looks like Tiny Tim and his family might have lived there. It's pretty grim.)
Nothing looked out of place.

Normally, I'd have gone home and told the Mister (who wasn't working that day) and had him sort it out the next morning. But he had spent the day in the hospital writhing in pain (they actually gave him morphine, if you can believe it.) and had lost two night's sleep. I made an executive decision and called the electrician we usually deal with.

Our electrician's name is Steve, and he is possibly the most morose, despondent, world-weary man I've ever met. He's about 60 or so, and gives the impression of having been disappointed and disillusioned more times than you could ever count. Until, of course, you call with an electrical problem, wherein he sighs heavily and says he will be right there, and you know you have just added one more stone to the Everest of despair that he has to climb every day. He's like Eeyore.

Steve showed up, disheartened and let down by our electrical system, and indeed, the world at large. He poked around and sighed and stifled a sob once or twice, and quickly got the fan, the lights and the outlet working again. Except, there was a set of lights over the shampoo basins that he could not get to work. He tried this and that, he flicked switches on and off, he had a little cry, and finally gave me a look of deeply wounded disappointment and said he couldn't figure it out. I was afraid he would leave and slit his wrists in his truck.

Just then, the Mister came in. He had been at the hospital again that morning, getting an ultrasound (so that they could tell him he definitely had kidney stones.) and he was able to tell Steve/Eeyore that those lights didn't work because the bulbs had burned out and had not been replaced; people complained that they shone in their eyes when they were getting shampooed.

Poor Steve. He looked at me as though I had drowned his boyhood puppy while eating all his birthday cake. I've never felt so totally responsible for one person's happiness as I did at that moment.

He eventually packed up his stuff and left. I couldn't bear to tell him about the switch we have that nobody knows what it does. Or the light fixture that goes on and off according to it's own whims. (Sometimes we come in in the mornings and it's on for the first time in months. Or it just goes off for no reason at all.) Or the outlet that hates the straight iron. I'm afraid he'd lie down and weep.

Amazing Race 19, Episode 2

2011-10-03T18:20:00.003-04:00

Colour me surprised! I thought Ethan and Jenna would go way further than the second leg. I guess starving in the jungle does not train you to read signs.

I would have done just fine last night, because I am physically incapable of NOT reading every. single. sign that comes in front of me. I read them all. In Ontario, they have these blue, historical plaques up all over the place that tell you of some significant event or person that is relevent to that location. My kids groan with dispair every time they see one, because they know I am going to have to go up and read it. In London England, they have plaques on houses where famous people lived. I stopped and read every one, and there are hundreds of them....."Oh, look...Lord Kelvin patented his mirror galvanometer while living here!" You can only imagine how enthusiastically my little quirk was recieved by my family. Anyway, I'd have read that damn sign.

That last twist was excellent! It really changed up the order of the teams. And who knew the Snowboarders and the Showgirls would be the first ones to get it right! See? Reading really IS fundamental!
They all seemed to take the return to the orphanage pretty calmly. I know I'd be cursing up a storm and my head would burst into flames.

You know what's worse than seeing dating couples bicker? Siblings. Because listening to people have the same arguement over and over again that they've been having since they were three is so not entertaining.
Christmas dinner at their house must be a riot.

Did you know Cindy is Asian? That was brand new information for me.

Line of the Night: From Pa undoing the knotted rope: "Like Christmas lights from hell!"

Did anyone else think the drumming at the dancing task sounded a lot like the theme from The Twilight Zone?

Ron and Bill looked more like siblings than any of the siblings do, including the twins. I was never going to be able to tell those two apart.

Amazing Race 19, Episode 1

2011-09-27T18:43:00.004-04:00

I only found out last week that the Amazing Race was starting up again...how happy was I? I didn't even have to count down the weeks or anything.

I'm glad they had a Non-Elimination for the first leg; it must take a few days to get your racing mojo on. But man, Bill and Cathi took their sweet time getting to that Pit Stop....I heard they wandered around for four hours looking for that clue. Four hours! I would have lost my shit altogether around hour two, so good on em for holding it together. I did turn to Thing 1 when they were introduced and said "The label "grandparents" is the kiss of death; they will be the first ones out".

Personally, I have obsessive-compulsive disorder when it comes to my passport....I keep in in a zippered pocket of my purse and check it every twelve minutes to make sure it's closed. Then I open it to make sure the passports are there, zip it, and then check to make sure it's closed. Lather, rinse, repeat. There is no freaking way my passport would be in any danger of falling out of my purse, because if I was on this race, I would carry it in my teeth.

At first I called foul on the passport just "happening" to find it's owner at LAX, but then I remembered this was in LA and the place must be seething with attention-whores dying to get a few minutes on tv. I guess it was that guy's lucky day! I can't help wondering if he'd have gone all the way to the airport if it had been one of the snowboarders pictures inside.

That monk had the funniest expressions ever; he managed to have entire conversations just with his eyebrows. He rolled his eyes at the snowboarder, and gave a total "dude, dial it back" to Ethan. I'm pretty sure that sort of behaviour is not condoned in the "Buddist Monk Handbook of Public Relations".

Had I known that "Dragon Boat Racer" was a legit profession, I'd have changed my major at University 30 years ago.

How come the Twins get no label other than "twins"....they could have "sisters" or "siblings" or even "Shouty McWhinersons".

I wonder if everyone else knows about the double elimination, or just the Farmer Grandparents. Because if I were them, I would totally keep that to myself and make sure the other teams melt into a puddle of dejection at the Pit Start.

After having travelled a bit myself this summer, I really do have a bit more appreciation for the racers and the difficulty in dealing with the tasks. We are just watching them wander around in Taipei, but they've just come off a 14 hour flight, possibly with very little sleep, and have to jump right in, and very quickly, too. After a long flight, I'm basically functioning on a purely molecular level; I think I'd be having trouble with that "look up" clue, too. I really, really hoped Jenna would ask that guy to give her a clue out of his "racing boxers" underpants.

When do we see an "Amazing Race" contestant on "Survivor"?

Until next week!

Busy Days

2011-09-27T17:10:00.003-04:00

Busy days.

I always find that September is a bit of a whirlwind; everything starts up again after a summer break. I grew up in a house of teachers; I remember my brother and I learned very early not to ask for one extra thing until October. It's bad enough how September occupies my normal existence, and I don't even go to school.

We went to the fair a few weeks ago, sorted out a bazillion forms for school, my book club met for the first time since June and we've been renovating the colour room at work.

My cousin from Australia just left this morning; he and his wife and three kids were here for a few days, before heading off to Niagara Falls. My cousin grew up in Ireland, but met and married a very nice Australian woman, and since he wanted to live with her, moved to Brisbane.
I very recently got my husband and two teenage children to Europe for two weeks and then home; I cannot imagine the incredible effort involved in herding three children (10, 8 and 6) half way across the globe for three weeks, and then face a 26 hour trip home. And they seemed to do it without batting an eyelash.

I have to say, Aussies are the travellingest people I have ever met....maybe it's the result of living on an isolated continent with NOTHING but ferocious sharks and lethal jelly fish within a couple of thousand miles that makes them so impressively blase about flying for days to get where they want to go. Every Australian I have ever met appears to be an enthusiastic explorer, full of boundless energy and almost manic interest in their surroundings. Of course, the only Australians I've ever met are also the ones who have made it to North America.....I suppose the whiny pantywaists stay firmly put.

My cousins children were absolutley delightful; bright and interested and polite and funny. I was smitten.
We took everyone apple picking yesterday, because they don't have much in the way of apple orchards in north-eastern Australia. Or eastern Ireland, for that matter. We got some apples and saw the pumpking patch and saw a few baby pigs.....everything's exotic if you're from somewhere else. (Personally, one of my favorite things to do in other countries is go into the grocery stores.....it's all wildly interesting when it's new to you.)

My mother fed them heaps of pancakes with maple syrup (another novelty) and I took the 8 year old boy to see an ice rink. (There was nobody there; I told him he could stand on the ice and slide around a bit, just to see what it was like. I'd take the heat if we got in trouble.)
The 6 year old wanted to see a bear. They are a bit thin in the ground here, we don't get many grizzlies in our subdivision. But he did manage to see a squirrel, and he was pretty excited about that.
The 10 year old girl really wanted to see our house, I suppose because of Thing 1 and Thing 2. We brought her over last night, and she was deliciously horrified at the state of their rooms. (Both of my children have bedrooms that look like they have been the scene of a particularly enthusiastic ransacking by gay thieves who only wanted to try everything on.) She also liked our cat, and the fact that we keep soda pop in the house at all times.

We had dinner with everyone last night, and later on, the Mister had another kidney stone attack. (He had one last month when we were in England, staying with another cousin of mine.) He has concluded that eating dinner with my cousins wreaks havoc with his kidneys, and from now he will only chance breakfast and lunch with any of them.

As October approaches, I think things will settle down a bit and a routine will find itself. At least we have plenty of apples.

The Loudshoes in Europe, Part 9: The Trip Home

2011-09-11T18:42:00.006-04:00

I've been to hell and lived to tell the tale....it's crowded and noisy and food is so expensive it will make you hyperventilate: it's Terminal 4 at JFK Airport.

On our way home from Europe, we had to fly to New York City to make a connection to Toronto. We could have flown directly from Heathrow to Pearson, but that cost an extra thousand dollars for the four of us, and we figured we could do a LOT with a thousand bucks on our holiday. (This becomes relevant later.)

The flight from Heathrow to JFK was fine, but when we got into New York the airport was in chaos; there had been some terrible thunderstorms in the area, with them getting more rain in one day than they'd ever had since they'd been keeping records. Every flight in the place was cancelled, including ours. And, the young woman behind the counter, who clearly thought I was being unreasonble and a total downer for harshing her buzz, said that she couldn't find us another flight for 24 hours. I wanted to kill myself, except at JFK, they would charge you something for that.

After chasing a hotel room, fruitlessly, for an hour or so (including a $30 round trip taxi ride for nothing) we looked at each other and concluded we were going to have to sleep in the airport. Thing 1 was a bit upset at this prospect ("It's like we're homeless!") and Thing 2 thought it would give her some serious street cred for having slept in public in New York City.
But then I realized were were going to have to spend another whole freaking day in that same stupid airport, and nearly lost my shit altogether. That's when I bought a bottle of water for 5 dollars and realized that waiting for this flight would cost us as much at 2 weeks in Europe.

We did find a place to settle down, at least; a bench with some padding meant that we weren't sleeping on marble floors. (50 year old backs + rock hard surfaces = cripples for days.) There were plenty of other people sleeping in the airport too, so it wasn't like we were the only ones there. But it did feel a little creepy, sleeping out in the open where anyone could come and go, and the homeless guys scratching their genitals and talking to themselves.

Airports are fairly noisy places, what with the flight announcements and the security check points. Oh, and the airport personnell who have to shout to their friends on the other end of the concourse to see who gets their break next. Yes, I could not get enough of that.

I eventually gave up on sleep and took out my book to read; between my 20's and having young children, it certainly wouldn't be the first night I'd lost out on sleep; I'd live.
Around 4 o'clock in the morning, the Mister and looked at each other and figured that thousand bucks on that direct flight would have been very well spent.

Around 6 in the morning, the Mister and I decided to move over to the terminal we would be flying out of, and at least see if they would check in our luggage for us; we were tired of dragging it around.
You know, the people at JFK are just so pleasant, and nice and helpful. Just kidding. They are horrible; mean and surly and shouty. The woman at the check-in counter looked at me like I was an idiot and asked why I was waiting for the 8 pm flight and not trying to get stand-by seats for the 8:20 A.M flight. "Because the snot-bag I talked to last night didn't even tell me there was an 8:20 a.m flight" I replied, except I substituted "woman" for "snot-bag". She sighed deeply, and shook her head at me, like she was sorry I was such a loser and she had to deal with me, and told me she would book us standby seats for the 8:20. I thanked her, and I was so happy to find out there was a possibility that I might get out of that hell-hole 12 hours earlier than anticipated, I even smiled at her and thanked her. (Which is forbidden at JFK Airport, just to tell you.)

We got to the gate, which was crowded and noisy, because approximately every single person in there was trying to get out. I asked the woman behind the counter at the gate how this stand-by thing worked, since I'd never done it before. She laconically said "we call your name". Now, I think I'd made it clear I'm new here, I haven't done this before and by the way, I had to sleep in an airport and watch a homeless guy scratch his genitals for the past 10 hours. You're going to have to put the dots real close together for me: "So, if you don't call my name?" I say, and she gets her eyes all wide and toggles her head from side to side and says in a sing-song voice: "Then you don't. Get on. The flight." I tell you, if I hadn't really, really needed her co-operation to get me the hell out of New York City, I'd have leapt over that counter and choked the living shit out of her. But I restrained myself.

I was pretty sure we'd never get on that flight: four seats that morning? No way. But, because I have good karma and I did not choke the shit out of that woman, she announced "all stand-by seats are confirmed, all stand-by passengers can board now." (So you don't call my name, you lying little shit!)

You have never seen four people dance onto a plane like the Loudshoes did that morning.

And when we arrived in Toronto, I wanted to lay down and kiss the ground. Except I was too busy finding the nearest Tim Hortons with my phone app. After loading up on cheap coffee and bottles of water that cost $1.35, we got in the van, and drove home.

We had a wonderful trip, truly a once-in-a-lifetime vacation. But walking in the door of my own house was one of the sweetest feelings ever. Ever.

The Loudshoes in Europe, Part 9: Kent

2011-09-09T17:22:00.002-04:00

After our exciting time in London (Riots! Kidney stones! Indian food!) we headed south-east to Kent, where my aunt and uncle live. It was their 50th anniversary, and the ensuing party was mostly the reason we were in Europe in the first place.

We took the train from Victoria station, in London, to Sittingbourne in Kent. Let me tell you, the public transportation systems in London are fabulous: easy to navigate, reliable, clean and reasonably priced, and they get you where you want to go. Coming from a country that has decimated it's rail system to the point where there is really only route from one end of the country to the other, the British system is wildly accomodating. (In Canada, there's no train service in Newfoundland at all. And if you want to go to, say, Saskatchewan, you only have one place to get on and off. And that place is Saskatoon, and come on, who wants to go there? 22 hours on a train and then you're in Saskatoon? Please. )

We stayed at one of the strangest little hotels I've ever been in....they didn't even have phones in the room. But it was clean and accomodating and close to where we wanted to be, even if it was inexplicably 100°F in that room. Seriously, it's in England....why was it hot enough to grow bananas in there?We went to my aunt and uncle's house for dinner, and they were so welcoming and generous; it was wonderful. I hadn't seen this family for almost 20 years, and they could not have been more congenial. My cousins are lively, funny, delightful people, and I don't get to see them nearly enough

The next day Mister slept in while the girls and I went to McDonald's for breakfast. He's not a big breakfast eater (and I love him anyway) and he was still jet-lagged from the kidney stone.

They had a breakfast buffet at the hotel, but since it cost a lot and we decided that we were too spoiled by our breakfast buffet in France, we'd take a pass. Besides, we were more thirsty than hungry, what with sweating out 10% of our body weight overnight.
Breakfast in McDonald's is never going to be the highlight of anyone's day, but I have to say, it was one of the oddest breakfasts I've ever had. I ordered bacon and egg on a bagel, which you'd think would be pretty straight-forward, but no....the bagels in the McDonalds in England are really just bread shaped like a bagel: round bread with a hole in the middle. I could fold it in half and eat it. The girls got pancakes which came with no syrup. When we asked for syrup, any kind of syrup, the pimply youth behind the counter looked at me like I had asked him to calculate the square root of time or I'd shoot him, and offered up some jam. I didn't want him to wet his pants, so we took it. The coffee was a very pleasant, warm, brown liquid, but it bore no relation to coffee. We did like the British nomenclature for "no-pulp" orange juice; it said "no bits", which we used for the rest of the day to express delight or pleasure. ("How is your cake?" "NO BITS!")
(We also liked the signs for the fire doors: "This door is alarmed!". Seriously? Did it just hear about J.Lo's divorce?)

The party was that day, and it was lovely, real English garden party. (Like in a book!) The weather was wonderful (always a bit of a gamble in England) and the food plentiful and delicious and the company was utterly fabulous. I had such a great time seeing my extended family, and they made us feel like rock stars, just for showing up.

We made our way back to our hotel and then, naturally, to the pub for a drink or two. And then it was Sunday, and time to go home.

The Loudshoes in Europe, Part 8: London

2011-09-02T16:20:00.003-04:00

Because my cousin Eilish had so generously put us up (and put up with us) while we were in London, the least we could do was take her out to dinner. The girls stayed at her place and had watched British television (which, curiously, seems to consist of lots of "Friends" re-runs and show like "Pregnant and Impaled!". I wish I was making that up, but I'm not.) while we went out for some Indian food.

We walked to a restaurant Eilish knew of, and while we were on our way we detoured past site of the nearby riot a few nights before. It was terrible; an entire 3-storey building reduced to ruins, and all the homes and businesses around it destroyed as well.

While at dinner, my cousin and I yipped and yapped about all sorts of things...sharing some DNA meant that neither one of us had any trouble filling a silence. The Mister was pretty quiet during dinner, but I'm used to that when I'm in the room. But I also noticed that he didn't very much, not as much as he ususally would when faced with excellent chicken tikka masala and naan that was so puffy and warm you could curl up and go to sleep on it, and dal with coconut and gobi aloo that we would ususally have a fierce tussle over.
And then I noticed he didn't say one word on the walk home; I mean, he's a quiet guy but that was quiet, even for him.

When we got home I came up to our bedroom with a glass of water to find him hunched over on the bed, breathing hard between his teeth and rocking back and forth slightly. I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but even I could tell, something was up, and I had a pretty good idea of what, too. "Kidney stones" he hissed. Yup, just what I thought.

The Mister has had kidney stones before, and they are so painfully agonizing that I make sure the big knives are out of his reach, lest he try to go in after them himself. It's been about 6 years since he last had one, and they don't really give him any notice, the kidney stones just show up and attack, like terrorists.

At least he knew what it was, and it wasn't going to kill him, just mostly kill him, until it passed. And it would pass, eventually. (The one good thing about a kidney stone is that when you've peed it out, it's all overwith, the pain is good and gone in an instant. ) I asked if he wanted to go to a hospital to get some painkillers, but he declined and said he'd make do with the Tylenol I had in my bag.

Poor man, he had a long and miserable night. In the morning, I finally convinced him to go to the hospital; although he was feeling a bit better (he though he might have passed something), we were due to fly home in two days, and I really wanted him to have something to take care of the pain in case the tiny renal terrorists decided to strike at thirty thousand feet.

My cousin drove us to the nearest hospital, and thankfully, the waiting room was blissfully empty. (It had rained the night before, so the rioters took the night off.) He was seen fairly quickly, by a disturbingly young doctor....seriously, this guy looked like he still needed a babysitter and wore pull-ups to bed. But he had the authorization to order painkillers and x-rays, so I wasn't going get fussy about having canned goods older than him at home. I explained that we were here on vacation from Canada, that we had a 15 hour trip home in a couple of days and that all we really wanted was to get the Mister home without me having to bulldoze him through Heathrow on a luggage cart. ("Does it really take 15 hours to get to Canada?" he asked. "When you're as cheap as us, it does." I said.)

After an x-ray and examination, The Little Boy Who Went To Medical School determined that the Mister had probably passed a stone, and that there was another one in the kidney, but for the moment, it wasn't causing a problem, and he gave us some painkillers (just in case) and told us to take care of it when we got home.
We had traveller's medical insurance, and after calling them and determining that we were to pay the hospital and we'd be reimbursed later, I asked how much we owed them and where did I pay and hoped that the $9,000 remaining credit on my Visa card would cover it. And he answered "nothing, you don't owe a thing". At which point, I asked if they did hearing exams, as well.
It turns out the UK has a reciprocal agreement with Canada (among other countries) for emergency care; we were in the clear.
The Mister and I looked at each other, thanked the Boy Wonder and high-tailed it out of there before they could change their minds. How lucky were we??

The Mister has been fine ever since; his kidney hasn't bothered him at all since that night. And guess what? He hasn't done a thing about it since we got back; I'm sure he's waiting for it to show it's nasty self again, like on Christmas Eve or on our way to a wedding. At least we still have the pain killers.

The Loudshoes in Europe, Part 7: London

2011-08-29T19:12:00.002-04:00

When we got back to my cousin's house, around 8 pm, my father called from Canada, with a worried tone to his voice: "Is everything okay? Are you all alright?" Now, you can accuse my dad of being a lot of things, but an unreasoning fusser, he is not.
We're fine, I said, why? "Because I'm watching the BBC World Service on television and there are riots in Croyden at the moment, and I know you're there. There's a huge fire and they've closed the train station." Okay, we had just come from the train station, and there had been nothing going on at all. (Turns out we were at the East Croyden station and they'd closed the West Croyden station.)
We stuck our heads out the front door and sure enough, a huge column of black smoke was rising over the houses across the street, and there must have been 5 helicopters hovering around and sirens blaring. The BBC World Service does not lie; there was a riot happening about a 15 minute walk away.
It turns out there were riots all over London that night, and a few other cities besides. There seemed to be no real reason or cause for the riots, other than hoodlums smashing and grabbing at retail stores, and criminals taking the opportunity to do whatever they wanted. The fire near to us was a furniture store...who robs a furniture store? Did the rioters plan on leaving with a sofa under their arms? And the pity is, that was a 150-year old, family run business, that had lasted through a couple of depressions and two world wars, and it was gone in one night because some twerp threw a Molotov cocktail through the window.
We were all fine though, and didn't feel like we were in any danger at all. We wouldn't have even known it was happening, had my dad not called from Canada to tell lus.
We walked down to see the damage a few days later, and it was awful. More heartening, though, was the reaction of Londoners; they were horrified and sickened, and assured us over and over that this was not the real London, and they hoped we understood that.

Before we left home, I bought us tickets to tour Buckingham Palace. Apparently, they only have the tours a couple of weeks a year, when the Queen is away, I assume to deter people from sneaking off and trying to find her and have a chat. Not that I would even dream of doing such a thing.
Buckingham Palace is huge, and we only got to see a small portion of it, and it is magnificent. The rooms are gorgeous, and I totally loved the place, even if it was, as my father reminded me, built on the backs of my ancestors. It is all red carpets and gold accents, and the artwork is incredible...I kept reminding myself that those paintings are real Rembrandts and original Vermeers right in front of me.
Kate Middleton's wedding dress was on display in the ballroom, and let me tell you, that thing is beautiful in real life, much more detailed and lovely than on tv. The veil looks like it's made out of cobwebs, it's so gossamer and light. They had a video about how it was constructed and the lace was made, which was even more interesting than the dress itself. And, the waist on it is tiny. I don't think I could fit my right leg into it.

The girls really wanted to go to Mme. Tussaud's wax museum, so we headed on up to there, to find another two hour line up. (I tell you, the Loudshoes family are expert liner-uppers by now.)
It was, again, incredibly crowded, but we had a good time looking around and taking pictures. Thing 2 was thrilled, thrilled, to be able to get her picture taken with Justin Bieber. (Ironic note: we had to go 3,000 miles to see Justin Bieber, and his hometown is only 4o miles from where we live.)
They had some statues that were uncannily like the person they were supposed to be (Helen Mirren and Russel Brand were so lifelike it was kind of creepy.) and then a few more that you suspected they let the new staff members have a go at them. I had to ask who James Dean and Drew Barrymore were supposed to be, and the Elvis looked more like Joan Collins.

It was a really beautiful, sunny summer evening, so we took another tour on the "hop-on, hop-off" bus and had a good look around. London is such a gorgeous city, and it never looks better than when the sun is low and the breeze is warm.

We decided to just grab a bite to eat at the train station, since it was getting late and we didn't want to sit very long. All along on this trip, the girls had been very good at eating whatever was there, and after 10 days of eating unfamiliar food, they fell upon the McDonald's at Victoria station like lions on a limping antelope. I went over to the Marks and Spencer food kiosk, which was only fabulous. They had all kinds of lovely sandwiches and salads and fresh fruit, all ready to go. They even had plastic glasses of wine (as well as bottles) all sealed up for you take away...wine to go! What a concept!

And the bathrooms still cost a few cents, but the attendants were a lot less intimidating than in Paris.

The Loudshoes in Europe, Part 6: London

2011-08-28T11:23:00.002-04:00

I figured the next morning was one to sleep in...we were all sore and tired from the previous day's marathon and all we had to do today was get ourselves on a train to London. Sleeping in is one of my all-time favorite things to do, so that was easy.

We packed our bags up and headed down to the breakfast buffet, and again it was magnificent and the angels themselves sang us through the waffles, brioche and cheesey goodness. Plus, and I forgot to mention this in the previous post, they showed "Tom and Jerry" cartoons on a huge screen during breakfast, for the kids, you know. You should have seen the four of us, entranced by the cartoons and chewing our chocolate croissants open-mouthed and unblinking. We looked like we needed a babysitter.

We negotiated the Paris metro system one more time, with our luggage. ("God, have these people even heard of escalators??") We got ourselves to the Gare du Nord, which looks like something out of Harry Potter; it's really crowded with possibly the most interesting-looking people wandering around there. And it had crepes, so I was happy.

It used to take days to get from Paris to London, and now it's only a few hours...that? is a miracle. I was pretty excited about taking the high-speed train from Paris to London; I thought it would be really impressive and momentous. Turns out I was wrong; it was pretty much like any other two hour train ride, except it had about 20 minutes when it was dark outside,right in the middle. I was happy enough to have a non-eventful ride, especially considering a few years ago 4 trains got stuck inside the tunnels for hours, with thousands of people on board. I'll admit I don't like tunnels that go underwater (One leak, just ONE LEAK and we're all dead!!), but I decided not to think too much about it while I was on the Eurostar.

We got into St. Pancras station (which is also the King's Cross underground station, if you are a Harry Potter fan....there really is a Platform 9 3/4, too! They've embedded a little cart into a brick wall where you can take your photo; very cool.) Then we had to negotiate another subway system and then another train ride to get to my cousin's house in Croyden, just south of London.
This time, we spoke the language, though, and the Mister and I had dealt with the Tube before, so we knew what we had to do. Still a lack of escalators, though; they really should look into that.

The train and tube system in London is pretty terrific, I think. I know the residents think it's expensive and inefficient and not so great, but I was impressed with how easy it was to figure out, and get where you wanted to go with a minimum of fuss. And beleive me, taking one look at the traffic on the roads, I was really, really happy to not be driving in that city; that would make my head explode. (I have NO idea how they are going to manage during the Olympics next year...London is already chock-a-block crowded with the most insane traffic I have ever seen. I don't know who's idea it was to drop another million or so people into that.)

My cousin, Eilish, had very generously and graciously offered to put the four of us up for the week, despite not having laid eyes on me for almost 20 years. She has a lovely, comfortable little house that is so English...it is one of those narrow, semi-detached, early 20th century houses that you can imagine men with handle-bar mustaches and corseted women in, or having and Anderson shelter in the backyard during the war. I loved it. She was very accomodating and welcoming to the four large, loud, messy Canadians invading her space.

The next morning we got up to explore London. I love London, it's a fabulous city, full of stuff you already know about. There's the museums and the galleries, but it's also got all sorts of stuff you've seen on tv and the movies for ever, and you didn't even realize. When we went to St. Paul's cathedral, the girls were impressed that not only was this where Princess Diana got married, it's also the place where the lady feeds the birds in "Mary Poppins"! And there's Harrods' and Big Ben and Trafalgar Square and Tower Bridge. It's like seeing a book come to life.

We took a boat tour along the Thames with the best, most-deadpan tour guide I ever heard. "That is Millenium Bridge, a footbridge built in the year 2000, to commorate the millenium. A few years ago, I saw a 10 year old boy unload a strawberry McDonald's milkshake onto a tour boat much like this one. Funniest thing I ever saw." "Next year London will host the Olympics, which will cost the UK taxpayer over £9 billion, but you cannot put a price on two bronze medals" We loved him.

Dinner was at an English pub (in a basement, for some real atmosphere!) where Thing 2 had her third order of fish and chips in as many days, and the Mister had bangers and mash. You can't say the Loudshoes do not embrace the culture.

The Loudshoes in Europe, Part 5: Paris

2011-08-26T20:29:00.004-04:00

Our first morning in Paris, we got up bright and early and went down to the hotel's breakfast buffet....I LOVE good breakfast buffet, and this one did not disappoint: crepes and eggs and bacon and cheese! Oh the cheese! And the bread! Baguettes and brioche and chocolate croissants! I could have stayed there all day and been perfectly happy.

We headed back to the Eiffel Tower because we wanted to go up to the top of it, and we arrived 10 minutes after it opened to find an hour and a half wait for the elevators. (This, as it turned out, was to be a theme for the rest of our vacation.) When we finally got to the base of the tower, we had to go through the usual bag searches and other security. I managed to set off the metal detector, because I had on a heavy necklace on under my scarf. When I pulled the scarf off to show the security guard he gave the most dramatic sigh and rolled his eyes so far back into his head I thought he might lose them altogether, like he could not believe he had to put up with idiots like me day after freaking day! He must be fun to work with....can you imagine him at the Eiffel Tower Staff Christmas Party?

The view from the top was spectacular; we were lucky enough to get a clear and windy day that made it easy to see for miles in all directions. Then we lined up for another half hour to get back down.

We decided beforehand that we wouldn't go into any museums or churches, our time was just too tight; better to see a lot of things briefly than one or two things in depth. Judging from the lines at the Louvre and Notre Dame we made the right choice....I'm not exaggerating when I say there were a couple of hundred people in lines for both.

We took a boat tour along the Seine and saw all the famous buildings and some of the not so famous ones and we ate....boy, did we eat. I think we ate our way from one end of Paris to the other. Thing 1 and I particularly liked the crepes; they had these stands where they made your crepe to order every twenty feet or so and I think we stopped at every one....who knew bananas and Nutella was a combination I have been missing out on all my life??

One thing I liked about Paris and London is that there are plenty of public washrooms everywhere, and for the members of the Tiny Bladder Club, of which I am a charter member, this is a very welcome policy. You usually have to pay a little bit to use the bathrooms, but that's okay, it pays for a staff that keeps the bathrooms clean and supervised. And let me tell you, the ladies staffing the women's bathroom underneath Notre Dame take their job very seriously. These two North African women running this place did not put up with fools; you had to be right smart about doing your business, no lolllygagging, and they parceled out toilet paper like it was made of gold. And they kept yellling "Flush! FLUSH!!" every time anyone left a cubicle. But they kept that line moving and got a LOT of people in and out of there very efficiently. There wasn't a sign with the fee on it, and I was afraid of getting kicked out, so I gave them 2€ for the three of us and they beamed at me, so I guess it was enough.

I had read about a place on Ile St Louis that serves fabulous ice cream, and since I still had not quite eaten my total body weight yet, we went in search of it. And we found it! Here are Thing 1 and Thing 2 and I perusing the flavours at Berthillon, and drooling.

They had flavors like apricot and rhubarb and dark chocolate. Thing 1 had peach and Thing 2 had lime and I had salted caramel, which was out of this world and so intensely delicious that it was hard not to eat it too fast.

I have to say, the people in Paris were wonderful, friendly and helpful and very kind when I butchered their language beyond all recognition. I speak enough French to ask a question, but not enough to understand the answer. Everyone I tried my French on was very encouraging, but answered me in English, for which I was grateful. I had heard that Parisiennes were snotty and cold, but that was not our experience at all. When we were trying to find the entrance to a subway station (they hide them!) I asked at a gas station (in French) if they could tell me, and when one of the customers found out I was Canadian, he bellowed "J'adore! J'adore les Canadiennes!!" and hugged me and babbled on for a while (which I did not get at all....I thinkI heard something about being polite and then something else about Afghanistan.) and told us where the entrance to the subway was, and for a moment I thought he was about to come home with us. And then as we stumbled about for another bit finding the entrance (seriously, they hide them, they do NOT want you taking the subway in Paris!) an older couple walking down the street asked if they could help us. They could not have been lovelier.

After twelve hours of walking and eating, we were all grateful to crawl into bed and get some sleep. Because we knew that breakfast buffet would be there in the morning!

The Loudshoes in Europe, Part 4: Paris

2011-08-25T20:12:00.002-04:00

You know how you've always heard that Paris is spectacular and wonderful and the be-all and end-all in vacation experiences? Well, it's all true. It's fabulous.
We flew to Paris from Ireland and had to get ourselves from the airport to our hotel on the train and the metro; luckily, the Mister and I have enough French to be able to read signs and get ourselves on the right train and not to Poland or something.

Our daughters were a bit taken aback at a European hotel room, even one in a modern hotel...it was very....compact. No ice machine, no ironing board, no free wireless. It ain't Disney World, let me tell you. But it did have a dazzling view of Paris from it's rather large window, and that was good enough for me.

We went out straight away to see the Eiffel Tower, which was #1 on our agenda, and as we strolled beside the Seine on a beautiful summer evening, we just kept turning to each other and saying "do you believe we're in Paris??"

The Eiffel Tower was way bigger than I thought it would be (I'm not sure how big I did think it was going to be, but I was surprised.) The Mister thought it was smaller than he thought it would be. Go figure. It is far more delicate and lacier than I thought it would be, too. It's really very lovely.
We wandered around a bit (and got asked 50 bazillion times if we would like to buy a cheap, plastic souvenier of the Eiffel Tower, by dozens of interchangable, sketchy looking guys who were so clearly used to being told "no" that they'd have fallen over with surprise if we had said "yes".)
Everyone was getting hungry, so we found a sidewalk cafe that looked like it would not cost all the money we possessed and we got a decent dinner from the most stereotypical snotty French waiter. Seriously, if I hadn't thought he would spit in my food, I'd have asked to take his picture. He was so full of contempt for us pitiful, non-French tourists that he'd have had to add a few inches to his nose to look down on us properly.

On the way back to the hotel, by way of the Eiffel Tower again, the heavens opened and we got full-on thunderstorm. We ducked into some phone booths nearby, Thing 1 and I in one and Thing 2 and the Mister in another. And Thing 1 and I found a cell phone in our booth! We tried to figure out if there was a number in the contacts that said "home" or some such thing, but the fact that neither of us speak French hindered us somewhat. And then it rang! It scared the bejesus out of us! We probably should have answered it to find out who it belonged to and to tell them where it was, but, again, we don't speak French and we couldn't tell them where it was anyway, we didn't even know were we were. ("Allo! Je have your phone! Here in the booth du telephone! Near la tour Eiffel! But I have no idea what street we are on or where the hell your phone is! Adieu!")

Even though I had said that there would be no sleeping on our trip to Paris, we did make our way back to the teensy hotel room and settle down for the night.

The Loudshoes In Europe, Part 3 Ireland and France

2011-08-22T18:08:00.003-04:00

When we were on the plane to Ireland, the bottle of water in my carry-on bag spilled and soaked half of my magazine of crossword puzzles. After three days of sitting on the dresser in the bedroom, it still wasn't dry enough to use. That's how damp it is in west Kerry.

After having explored the Dingle peninsula to it's fullest, it was time to move on. We got in the car and drove to Cork, a few hours to the east, by way of Fermoy, where I was born. (I've only been back there once, when I was 11....I have no real affinity for the place, but the Mister was dead set on going.)

Once we got used to driving at Mach One down roads the size of a bicycle path, with the hedges whipping the passenger side windshieild, we drove through counties Kerry and Cork without incident. We did stop in Mallow to load up on chocolate and chips. (Or crisps, as they call them over there. Cheese and onion are, apparently, the flavor of choice when it comes to potato chips in Ireland....guaranteed to make your breath smell like you've been gnawing on a skunks arse.)

The LOVE roundabouts in Ireland, like I mean, the transportation engineers would take them out and marry the roundabouts if they could. They are everywhere. And with good reason, too...roundabouts never really caught on in North America, but they should because they keep traffic moving, unlike intersections, and they they add a certain merry-go-round quality to one's trip, particularly when one has to take several stabs at getting off on the right exit.

We stopped in Fermoy for lunch and picturesHere I am in front of where I was born. I am reasonably sure it was one of these buildings, but I have no clue as to exactly which one. As I was crossing the street to rejoin my family, a truck the size of a killer whale came roaring around the corner and nearly squashed me like a bug. All my family could say (with horrified glee!) was "wouldn't that be ironic? What if you had died right beside where you were born?" Then Thing 1 opined that it would have been "even better" if it had happened on my birthday! And my 5oth is coming up!! They were disturbingly thrilled with the idea.

We made it to Cork and stayed with my mother's brother, who is incredibly welcoming and generous, and his wife, who is one of the loveliest, nicest, kindest women I've ever met. They fed us and plied us with very nice wine and it was all good. I could have happily spent the rest of my holidays right there. I saw my cousin Jennfier, who I haven't seen since my wedding, and whom I like very much. (I always envied my friends growing up who got to live near their cousins and see them all the time. I really like my cousins.)

The next day we went to Paris. I did not spill my water bottle.

The Loudshoes In Europe, Part 2, Ireland

2011-08-21T10:33:00.005-04:00

The west coast of Ireland is one of the most beautiful places you could ever see....the air is windy and fresh, the scenery is breathtaking and unique and being that close to the ocean gives it all a perspective that is hard to beat. But you do not go there for the weather.

The atmospheric conditons on the west coast of Ireland are changable, to say the least....it's the weather equivilent of "Mr. Toad's Wild Ride". Sunny one minute and pouring rain the next, it's the only place I've ever been that the weather can give you whiplash.

We actually were very lucky in that regard. I've been to Kerry before where it quite literally never stopped raining for the entire week we were there, and my father claims that there was one summer in about 1957 where the sun never came out once the entire season. Our first day was overcast but bright, a major stroke of luck in an area that gets 2000 mm of rain a year. But the girls were outright offended by the change in temperature: we left 30°C to go to 16°C; a bit of an adjustment. ("Seriously? This is what they call "summer"?") We did most of our sightseeing that day, with me making a nuisance of myself saying "You have no idea how lucky we are with this weather!! This is incredible!!"
And then the next day, the clouds came down and it started to drizzle in the most grimly despondent way possible. And my family then understood what I meant.

Just to give you an idea, here is Thing 2 at the beach on our second evening in Kerry.
And here is Thing 1 the next evening.

The thing is, the temperatures were about the same. Go figure.

Here is the veiw from behind the house in Lispole, on a good day. (By the way, isn't that quite a sight out your kitchen window in the mornings?) See the mountain? It's a good sized mountain, no?

And here it is the next day, gone altogether. It could be part of a performance art piece called "How to Make a Mountain Disappear".

You also do not go to west Kerry for the relaxing drives. We went around Slea Head on our first day, on a road that takes you right around the west end of the Dingle peninsula and to see some of the most spectacular scenery ever. The only problem is, the road is narrow, and built on a cliff, so that the passenger in the front seat gets not only the best views, but also the uncomfortable realization that there is only a two-foot stone wall between the car and plunging headlong into the Atlantic Ocean. Do that for a couple of hours.....Makes for an interesting day. I think there might be a big market in selling Xanax at the pre-historic beehive huts.

Here is one of the typical roads around the area. Note that this road is not a one-way road, it takes traffic in both directions. And also? You can drive 60K an hour down this road. (That's nearly 40 mph.)

Both Thing 1 and Thing 2 thought that this explained a lot about their grandfather's driving habits.

At least we could see the road.

The Loudshoes In Europe, Part 1, Ireland

2011-08-20T18:15:00.007-04:00

We came back from vacation almost a week ago, and I am just now starting to feel like I inhabit my own life again. By my estimation, a two week vacation actuallly takes about 6 weeks: 2 to get ready, two to go away, and two to sort yourself out and re-enter your normal existence again. Not that I am expecting sympathy or anything; I went to Europe on my vacation, for goodness sake.

We flew from Toronto to Amsterdam, and then on to Cork on the southern coast of Ireland. It took me days to get everything organized, and I still felt like I had a million things to do as we were leaving to get to the airport. How on earth did the Mister's ancestors ever manage to get themselves on one of those coffin ships to flee the famine? I had entire Excel spreadsheets to make sure I covered everything before I left.

Our flight itself was fairly uneventful. Overnight flights to Europe are usually pretty quiet; they serve a round of drinks, they feed you dinner and then turn out all the lights and everyone goes to sleep. Except for the two young men who were sitting in front of us; they talked for 7 hours straight. And although they weren't whooping it up or being excessively loud, an airplane is a fairly contained space, and the Mister and I were privvy to their conversation for the entire flight. And they were not talking about nuclear physics or world peace. It was like flying to Amsterdam with Beavis and Butthead.

The guy in front of me put his seat back as soon as he was allowed, that made it impossible for me to see the tv screen in front of me (it was too close and I couldn't focus, because I'm old.) or hold a magazine up because there was no room. (Let me interject her to say that I think there should be a special place in hell for airplane interior designers. Either put a few more inches between the seats or don't allow the seats to recline.Or give me a golf club to knock some sense into the person in front of me.) I finally, and might I say very politely, asked them to shut the hell up. They sheepishly aquiesced, but not without giving me a bit of a look that said "jeesh, old lady". You know, what Beavis? If you don't let me sleep and you don't let me read, my only entertainment is to bitch at you.

We landed in Amsterdam and then headed straight to Starbucks because Mrs. Loudshoes - 1 night's sleep (/units of caffeine) = misery and heartache for all concerned. After a grande latte with 8 sugars, all was right with the world.

On to flight #2, to Cork, which is only an hour or so and there was nobody annoying on that flight. We land in Ireland, land of my birth, to a big, beautiful new airport in Cork city. Because it is a little, almost local flight, almost everyone on it is from Europe, and they go into the "EU Passport" line, and the other 7 of us go into the "Non-EU Passport" line. We get through customs and immigration faster than any airport I've ever been in. The Immigration man stamps the Mister and both Thing 1 and Thing 2's passports with one stamp and then mine with another..."welcome home" he greets me! "How come mom got a different stamp than we did" asked Thing 2. "Because she's allowed to stay", said the Mister.

We drove for 2 hours to the west, to Kerry, where my father grew up and my parents lived when they got married, before they came to Canada. To this little house, which my grandparents built in the 30s.

Nothing has changed in that house in my memory; it still looks and smells exactly the same. (Except it does have a phone and a shower now. Welcome to the 21st century!)

Here is the Mister, at one of my very favorite places in the whole world. I just love this beach.

It's hard not to keep taking a million pictures of exactly the same thing, since the whole place is so gorgeous and incredbly, breathtakingly beautiful.

We went to bed around 6 pm that night and slept for 14 hours. I'm not even making that up. (Thanks, Butthead!)

Eating Down the House

2011-07-29T09:19:00.006-04:00

We have entered the phase of vacation preparations called "Eating Down the House", which means that we have to make do with what is here, and not buy anything new to eat this week. Otherwise, I will come home to a fridge full of slimy, furry lumps of yuck, that smell so bad the cat needs therapy.

It's not so bad in the beginning, we can make very nice dinners out of what we've got. By the end of the week, it's getting a bit more challenging. But by today, two days before we go, it's just awful....tonight I have to make dinner out of two beets, a rather dodgy tomato, some leftover Fettucine Alfredo and molasses. Toby is getting nervous, because he knows his tuna stash is next on the menu.

Thing 2 complained that there is nothing to eat in the house, and I replied "I know!
That's why we are getting out of here!"

I have a secret to tell you: I've been trying to save money on groceries (so I can spend it in France!!) and so the rest of my family doesn't know it, but we've been eating down the house for weeks! They just thought I was serving terrible food!

Now, I know full well that cheap food does not mean bad food, far from it; it's not all lobster and steak at Chez Loudshoes usually anyway. But we have been eating a lot of pasta and beans the last month or two, and I think they might be on to me. The Mister asked if we could have something with "real meat" in it sometime soon.

I think he is referring to the last batch of chili I made a few weeks ago. (Chili is one of Thing 2's and the Mister's favorites, and although I can take it or leave it, it is pretty easy to make in the crock pot and the leftovers are easy to re-package and sell as a whole different meal somewhere down the line. )
I put in some leftover quinoa I had cooked up earlier in the week. Quinoa is a grain, sort of rice-like, that is supposed to be a miracle of nutrition and the current darling of the health-food disciples. I like it because it's filling and cheap, and I can make a salad for lunch out of it in about 10 minutes flat.
Anyway, it has bit of chew to it, and since I had about a cup leftover sitting in the fridge, I plopped that in the chili.....who's going to notice?
Well, quinoa has a distinctive little white "C" shaped bit in it, that does not disappear when you put it in chili. The Mister came upstairs from eating his lunch at work and asked if I had put anything new in this batch, and I confessed that I had tried to stretch it a bit with the quinoa. He said he thought it might have had little worms in it. But, and here's the bit I really like, he kept eating it anyway. Even though he thought it was full of little white worms.
I swear to God, that man will truly eat anything.

At some point before that, I tried to make another crock-pot meal called "Chili Mac" which is sort of a cross between chili and macaroni and cheese. Again, cheap, filling and right up my family's oh-so-sophisticated alley. It didn't turn out quite as the cookbook promised; it was a bit gloppier than expected and not terribly tasty. The Mister ate two bowls of it and froze the rest for lunches, having christened it "BARFY" for identification purposes.
Undaunted, I tried an Indian inspired crock-pot dish called "Dal", which is lentils and coconut milk and spices served over rice....again, cheap and filling and sounds like it could be good. Again, not so much....a bit loose and bland, this was christened "INDIAN BARFY" and frozen for future use.
And yes, we've eaten the rest of those, too.
Beggars can't be choosers.

Pack Up Your Troubles.

2011-07-23T21:05:00.002-04:00

We are going away on holidays next week, and I am just about at the point of organizing myself for my holidays that, if anyone told me it was all called off and I didn't have to go, I'd be altogether thrilled.
Not that I don't want to go on holidays, it's just that I don't want to get ready to go on holidays. Its so much work to get yourself organized to go on holidays that you need a holiday when you are done. Which works out well.

This year the Loudshoes family are veering wildly from our usual plans of a week up at a cottage on Lake Huron. (The cottage was sold last winter, and we don't know the new owners and they would probably charge us considerably more for the use of their dwelling than a couple of haircuts and a really good loaf of homemade soda bread.)
This year, we are going to Europe; specifically, Ireland, France and England. For two weeks, not one, which is stretching my organizational abilities to their max.

The girls are beside themselves excited, and the Mister is totally thrilled and I am trying hard not to think of this as more than a shitload of work and worry.
My father asked if I was getting excited for our trip and I said that I was beginning to have dreams about missing planes and forgetting passports and losing luggage, so yes, I think I am.

I'm always this way before a trip, trying to plan for every eventuality and driving myself absolutley crazy with all the possible disasters that I have to avert. ("Umbrellas in case it rains! Bandaids and moleskin for blisters! Immodium in case of diarhhea! Anti-venom for snakebites! Sunscreen! Rubber bands! An axe!" I have to remind myself we are going to London and Paris, not Mumbai and Mount Everest.)
I guess I come by it honestly; when my father's mother came to Canada to visit us from Ireland in 1967, she brought her own tea, because she was afraid we wouldn't have any good stuff here.

I have to tell myself that no matter what I pack, I will take lots of things I wish I hadn't, and I will forget to bring something so vital, so necessary, that I will wonder if I had been smoking crack while I was packing. One time we went to the cottage and I forgot to pack sheets for the beds.....all of them. And another time, I sent Thing 2 to summer camp with no underwear and no pajamas.

We are also visiting the west coast of Ireland, where my father comes from. We will be staying in the house my grandparents built, where my dad grew up and where my parents lived when they first got married. I love that house and west Kerry, and I'm really pumped to show it to my kids.

Currently, here in southwestern Ontario, the weather is stupid hot. It has been over 30°C for over a week now, and on Thursday, it was 35°, which is ridiculous. I have been keeping and eye on the weather, and in Dingle, where we will be going, it is 16°C and drizzly. (Says my father, "I could have told you that; it's always 16 and drizzly. April, August, November, February, 16 and drizzly.") With the heat and drought here, the beaches of West Kerry never looked so inviting.

This really will be a trip of a lifetime; the girls are at a terrific age to be going overseas, and I'm thrilled to be able to go to Paris, however briefly.

I just hope I pack enough tea.

Kibbles and Bits

2011-07-18T12:06:00.003-04:00

My new iPhone has an "auto-correct" for when you spell a word wrong, it will suggest another word to replace the dubious one. Sometime this is helpful, sometimes this is a pain in the ass and sometimes it's hilarious. (i.e. look up www.damnyouautocorrect.com )
When I text the girls, sometimes I want to put in "honey", as in "ok, honey". Seems inocuous enough, but for some reason, my phone disputes the input of a noun as an endearment, and corrects it to "homey". As in "thanks, homey, I'll see you later", or "Love you, homey". It sounds like I am a particularly affectionate gangsta rapper.

The Mister and I took Thing 2 and a gaggle of her friends to the beach yesterday....it was stinking hot and extremely crowded (Two of my favorite things! Along with blue cheese and accordion music!) The Mister and I huddled under a beach umbrella and people watched.

I get that lots of people like tattoos; it's not something I'd ever want for myself, but if you do, knock yourself out. But I do puzzle over the choice of tattoo some people get...for instance, I understand the whole "chinese character that means 'strength' " even if you are not Chinese, or a rose or a flag somewhere, but we saw a guy with a huge Teenage Mutant Ninja urtle on his upper arm. That seems like a very strange image to which you would want to associate yourself for the rest of your life. Especially since, in another couple of years, you are going to have to explain what a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle is, endlessly.

A bathing suit that is too small to cover your bum is fine when you are three years old, but less acceptable when you are thirty three. Why not buy a bathing suit that fits you and does not require yanking out of your butt-crack every twenty seconds?

Sunscreen is your friend, particularly when you have Irish/Scottish/English DNA that was never designed to see more than 4 minutes of continuous sunlight ever. I'm pretty sure there was going to be some horrific sunburns making some lives pretty miserable around 9:00 last night. A couple of people could even be described as "deep-fried".

No matter how diligent I am with the sunscreen, I always manage to miss a spot or two, which then announces itself at top volume around 9:00 at night. Yesterday: the tops of both my feet, three square inches at the top of my leg and the back of my left hand.

There is a farmer's market near us that sets up every Friday morning, and I like to go and get a few fruit and veg there every week. (I don't care what the foodie police tell you, the farmer's market is NOT cheaper than the grocery store, but the stuff there is amazing. I like that it's all local and all, but it also means that I can't buy mangos or limes there. I still end up going to the grocery store, too.) There is a family, I think they are Mennonite or Amish, and they have eleventy-two children who are home-schooled who help with the stand, and they all are adorable and blond and terribly earnest and nice. Their job is to get bags and make change and tell the customers the difference between spinach and arugula. Last week when I was there, the oldest kid, about 11, tried to give me 8 dollars in change for my 6 dollar purchase. The problem was, I gave him a 10$ bill. I gently told him to think it out again, and he insisted that that was right, so I said he should ask his dad and he looked like he was going to burst into tears. So I said that was fine, and now I have to figure out next week how to slip 4 dollars back into their coffers without anyone noticing.

No-Frills Follies

2011-07-04T16:11:00.003-04:00

I ended up standing outside the No-Frills store for about 25 minutes this morning, waiting for the Mister to finish his errands and come pick me up. (And for the 1 millionth time I wished he would get a cell phone. He says he doesn't need one, a sentiment with which I would respectfully, but violently, disagree. I suspect he really just doesn't want me to be able to reach him 24/7....it's bad enough that we work and live together.)

And as I stood there, basking in the sunshine, watching the fish thaw and the milk go sour, I had ample opportunity to observe my fellow shoppers. (Translation: I was bored to death.)

There are lots of people with small children at the grocery store. Why grocery stores do not have ample public washroom space is beyond me....every single one of those kids has figured out that the way to liven up an otherwise dull shopping trip is to announce "I have to pee" smack in the middle of the dairy aisle. Because it is summer holidays and school is out, there were lots of children of various ages. Most were biddable and happy enough to go along on the outing, but there were a few (mosty 10 year old boys) clearly were going to make whatever adult was foolish enough to tote them along, pay. And dearly. I was glad I wasn't in their sights.

There are lots of elderly people at the No-Frills, probably because it is the cheapest grocery store in town. Some of them were couples, and a few of the men exhibited the same outward demenor as the above mentioned 10-year-old boys.

Many, many people are completely oblivious to their surrroundings. Like, to the point that you wonder if they have special needs or something. I saw one woman pull out a grocery cart from the Grocery Cart Incarceration Unit, and the stand right in front of it while she made a phone call, making every other person herniate themselves wrangling their carts around hers.

The No-Frills store is one where you put a quarter in a little slot on the cart, to spring it free of all the other carts it is handcuffed to. A surprising number of people offered their carts to newcomers when they were done with it, and opted to forgo getting their quarter back. I just loved that.

Apparently, at No-Frills, smiling, manners and exchanging pleasantries are all considered "frills" by the staff. I wonder if their job applications specify "must be surly, unco-operative and have a keen ability to display passive-aggressive behavior towards customers".

No-Frills makes you buy your plastic bags for 5 cents each. They say it's to encourage people to be environmentally friendly, but I think it's just a way to make money. Seriously, does the environment care whether or not I pay for the bag I throw my garbage away in? Anyway, this results in some people resorting to truly hilarious methods of carrying their groceries out to their car. I saw one guy fill his hands and arms with milk, produce and frozen burgers, and carrying a package of 48 rolls of toilet paper in his teeth. I'll bet if he had been an African woman, he'd have had a box of detergent on his head, too.

People buy a LOT of soda pop.

Finally the Mister came (they had had some sort of computer brou-ha-ha at Best Buy and he got all caught up in it.) and we went home speedy quick to put everything away. A morning well spent.

Things That Make Me Go "WTF".

2011-07-03T18:14:00.002-04:00

1. The other day, I was stopped at an intersection, because the light was red. I was in the right hand lane, waiting to go straight. The guy behind me, honked and then swung around me into the left lane and passed me so he could make a right turn on a red light. Like I was infringing on his constitutional rights by occupying the right lane.

2. One of the reasons I don't go to movies very much any more is because it drives me bat-shit crazy to hear other people talking after I've paid 12 bucks to hear the people on the screen talking. (Other reasons: It's too freaking cold in there. Why do theaters have to be kept like walk-in refrigerators in the summer? Also, 12 bucks is too much money for some of the crap they play in theaters...I'll wait for the DVD, thanks.) So why, when I do go, which is when the movie has been out for weeks and the theatre is blissfully empty, do the only other people there sit right behind me??

3. Taking an elevator for one or two floors. You get a pass from me if you are A) elderly, B) toting small children or C) have a visible disability (like toting small children). But if you are able-bodied, mobile and smart enough to work the buttons, there's no need to wait 10 minutes to take the elevator down from the second floor.

4. People who complain that their gym doesn't have enough "good" parking spots. Because you wouldn't want to wear yourself out walking 30 extra feet when you're going to spend the next hour on a treadmill.

5. Clients who call for an appointment and their answer to "when would you like that" is "I don't know". Seriously? You didn't think that question was going to come up? Like, at all??

6. We had a guy who worked at the salon for about 3 days, once. One of the managers has a first name that you've probably never heard before. When introduced to her, this guy said "oh, I'm never going to remember that! I'm just going to call you 'Miss Thing' instead! " To his manager. On his first day. You can see why he didn't make it to the end of the week.

7. I once had a panhandler get snippy with me because he thought I wasn't being generous enough. Dude, I just gave you money, for free.... there's nothing in this for me. Why would I give you more? And does that approach ever work? Do people feel bad for not handing you enough money without anything in return?

8. We once had a lady call the salon to say that she wanted her money back. Her son's wedding had been 6 months before, and she had been happy enough on the day of the wedding, but she just saw the wedding pictures and didn't like the way her hair looked in them.

Crunch Time

2011-06-21T20:17:00.005-04:00

Could somebody stop this month please? I'd like to get off.

I realized a number of years ago that June is a bit of a slog....it's hellishly busy and you hemmorhage money. May is fine, July is wonderful, but June has far too much going on, and it all costs a fortune. Believe me, it's not that I don't want to do any of the things I'm involved in, I could easily say "no", but I want to do everything, and it's all jammed into those 30 days.

One year the Loudshoes family had so much going on in June that I actually had to write things in the margins of the calendar, because all the little squares were all filled up. This year I've worked an extra couple of days, we had to go to a funeral and the garden needs a lot of attention.

Work has been fairly busy,which is good because I will need the money for our holidays. I gave up a LONG time ago trying to figure out when we'd be busy and not busy, it seems to careen from "boring" to "frantic" within hours. I've been trying to get myself ready for a weekend away, and Thing 2 is graduating elementary school, which means an entire new outfit for her, too.

Thing 2 went to Montreal with her Grade 8 class last week, for 4 days. I got her up at 4:30 in the freaking morning, to catch the bus out of town at 5:30. Naturally, she had to get up that early to straighten her hair and put on some makeup. What a difference 35 years makes! My priority at 4:30 in the morning is to get some coffee into me, preferably intravenously, and not frighten small children.

As was the case when Thing 1 went three years ago, they did not want any parent volunteers for this trip, which was fine by me...I'd have gone if they needed me, but experience has told me that you if you can avoid 8 hours of driving in a production of "Hormones on Wheels", you should do so.

She came home on Friday evening, malnourished from a 4-day, vegetable-and-fibre-free, junk-food binge, and exhausted from talking for 96 hours straight.

Then the Mister and I took off for Montreal the next day. He and I and the staff from the salon went to see a hair awards show.We took the train this time, which was fabulous....you can drink on a train, which they frown on when you are driving, plus there is the added bonus of being able to go the bathroon whenever you want and NOT when your husband decides you should need to go to the bathroom. We had a good time, but maybe the other people in the car did not.

The hair show itself is pretty boring, but the people watching is only spectacular.....I tell you, hair dressers are great value for money, they do NOT disappoint. Think of it, a room full of a thousand people desperate to be the center of attention, and all of them very good at it. You hardly know where to look. Everyone is dressed up and dying to be seen...the shoes alone are worth the price of admission. And that's just the gay guys! The picture above is the Mister and I all cleaned up and ready for public consumption.

The train ride home was fine, except I had to sit beside a 9-year old boy who either need to be medicated or is just incredibly obnoxious. He didn't sit still for the entire 6 hours to Toronto, he shouted at his mother incessently and he spilled a bottle of water on me. I think maybe karma was paying me back for the use of my "outside voice" on the train on Saturday evening.

Next week is Thing 2's graduation, a dinner out, and a memorial service to go to. At least they all involve food. And come July, it will be all over, and life will settle down again. Stop me if I complain about being bored, okay?

Hello?

2011-06-10T17:51:00.002-04:00

After lusting after one for lo these many months, I broke down and bought an iPhone 4 on the weekend. Judging from the way it has consumed my existence this week, I think I may be in need of some sort of 12-step programme to get on with my life.

It all started with my mp3 player. It's a crappy little iPod knock-off I got on eBay about 6 years ago. It worked okay for a while, but eventually, the jack for the earpieces got touchy, and I had to jam it in with my thumb to get sound in both ears. And it hated running almost as much as I did; the bouncing around made it so mad it skipped all over the place. It was like I was running with an actual record and turntable in my hand. The last straw was when it started declining to play certain pieces, and the words "BAD SONG!" came up on the little screen, like I need my electronic devices criticizing my taste in music.

Then I got a new phone last Christmas. It was an improvement over my last cell phone, which was 2 years old and was quite literally being held together with scotch tape. But the buttons were very small, and I was having trouble typing messages on it quickly. (God, listen to me! Talk about "First World Problems")

Eventually I decided my life was completely without meaning unless I could get onto the internet at any time I chose. We don't have internet at work, and the thought of not being able to obsessively check my Facebook at a moment's notice, or look at excerpts from "My Big Fat Gypsy Wedding" on YouTube was making my life a misery.
Also, we are going to Montreal in a few weeks time, and I knew an iPhone would enable me to locate each and every Tim Horton's within walking distance at any time.

So, I got the phone. I am completely enamored of it. I felt like this when my kids were growing up: "NOW look at what it can do!!"
Except, I have spent the past week on the Apple website figuring out how to use it, and loading it up with all sorts of apps and music and such. I'm wasting hours and hours with this, and neglecting the rest of my life shamefully. But it's so much fun!....I have games! And a camera! And playlists! I even found an app that when you hold the phone up to a speaker that's playing music, it will tell you what the song is and who's singing it! And another site that, if I lose my phone, will tell me where it is, anywhere in the world! (I wish there was one that would tell me where in the house I've left it, because I envision that scenario happening a LOT.)

The Mister sure likes it; he spends ages playing around with it and watching it do things. (Again, sort of like when we had kids.) Thing 1 and Thing 2 want one of their own, maybe not today, but sometime in the future. (Baby analogy still holds.)

As for me, I'm enjoying the honeymoon phase of my new aquisition....everything is rosy and shiny and new, and we're perfect together. Eventually I will probably not think about it so much and just use it when I need it. I may even make a phone call on it.

Feel It Hot, Hot, Hot.

2011-06-08T20:30:00.007-04:00

It's pretty hot here....I'm not complaining, I'm just stating a fact. After the nastiest, unending winter we just had, followed by the grimmest spring on record, I swore I would never complain about the heat again. And I'm not....I'm just enjoying the fact that my feet are warm for the first time in 8 months. And they are VERY warm.

It got up to 33°C today, and as humid as you could imagine. It was like living in dishwasher.

We haven't put on the air conditioner yet; as hot as it is, the temperatures are supposed to moderate tomorrow, and honestly, we have the windows all shut up for most of the year, I hate to close them when it finally gets warm. We only put on the air conditioner when it's going to be this hot for a few days, and we are in danger of actually puddling on the floor.

Toby has morphed into a state of "cat butter", as he has smeared himself all over any and all available cool surfaces around the house.

When I came home from work and started getting dinner ready, I put on a fan in the kitchen, to make it a bit more comfortable. When I came in from lighting the BBQ, this is what I found:

I should have put an apple in his mouth.
I don't know why he doesn't go down into the basement, it's much cooler down there. I suppose he wants to stay up where the humans are; you never know when someone might be doling out tuna.

I'm determined to enjoy the heat, and try to remember what it was like to be cold. Maybe I should stretch out on the kitchen table.

Uniformly Awful.

2011-06-02T20:57:00.003-04:00

The weather has turned hot and humid here, and that means it's time to put all the sweaters and socks away and bring out the summer wardrobe.
Now, summer clothing around here tends to run the gamut from "slightly less fabric than in January" to "please enjoy my butt-crack!". LOTS of people have not realized that just because it's comfortable, that doesn't mean it's right. Hairy armpits and sweaty flesh should be covered at all times, I don't care how hot it is.

Thing 2's school has a dress code, which I totally understand: 14 year olds shouldn't be in charge of anything, let alone how they dress themselves. (Although, I do think it is the prerogative, nay, the duty, of every generation to look ridiculous to the one before them.) Their shorts have to be "mid-thigh" length, and halter tops and spaghetti straps are not allowed. Fair enough, as long as the rules apply to everyone, and they are clear from the outset.
Thing 2, as you can imagine, is not so acquiescent. She was sent to the office yesterday because her shorts are 2" shorter than they should be, and she would like to fire-bomb the school at her earliest convenience.

I told her that she should thank her lucky stars she even gets to wear shorts.....when I went to high school, in the olden days, we had to wear a uniform. Imagine the horror! For the first couple of years, we had to wear a blue and black plaid, acrylic kilt. We could wear black or navy blue knee socks or tights, a white blouse or turtle neck sweater and a navy or black sweater or jacket. Black shoes were the only option allowed. Later on, we could wear navy pants (YAY! No more blue knees in January! Although they did fit in with the uniform.) or skirts.

Thing 2 looked at me with incredulity and dismay. She asked me, in a whispery voice full of sympathy and admiration, how my classmates and I ever lived through such a thing, much like I imagine people asked Nelson Mandela how he survived 27 years in prison.

We did what I think most teenage girls would do: we wore our skirts alarmingly short and played fast and loose with the interpretation of the word "navy blue".

We also used to wear jeans or pants to school in the winter, because it we do live in Canada and there' no way I'm wearing an 8" long kilt outside in -20° weather. The problem was, we had only one girls bathroom per floor in which to change....let's see: 150 girls changing per floor + one bathroom the size of a fridge = everyone's late for class. So we changed in the hallways....you put your skirt on over your pants, then drop the pants and Bob's your uncle. Repeat the process in reverse when going home. The administration did not like this manoeuvre, they thought it was unseemly to have 1000 teenage girls changing their clothes out in public every morning, but since they didn't want to build 100 more bathrooms, they had to put up with it.

The kilts were made from an indestructible acrylic fabric that I think NASA should look into covering the Space Shuttle with. It was kind of itchy, but not terribly so, and it held a pleat for freaking years. It didn't stain, didn't wrinkle and didn't catch on fire. (And believe me, we tried. When my friend Kelly's older sister finally graduated from our high school, she had a commemorative "kilt burning" ceremony on the beach up at the lake. We built up a good bonfire and tossed the kilt onto it. That thing would NOT catch fire, in fact, it lay there for a disturbingly long time, completely unscathed, and then it melted. The next morning, all we found was a black lump of disintegrated plastic.) They were hot, though, and about as unflattering as a skirt could be. They gave everyone false hips and had a nasty habit of getting caught in your underwear without being noticed when you went to the bathroom.

I still like a nice, white blouse, but I'm pretty sure I've never owned another item of navy blue clothing since.

Thing 2 looked at me like I had just told her I had spent time in a Victorian orphanage, and never owned shoes.

She doesn't complain about her dress code so much now, and she's dialed way back on her plans for retaliation. I just hope she keeps her butt-crack to herself.

Kibbles and Bits

2011-05-31T21:17:00.003-04:00

Praise be! Summer is finally here! I was beginning to think it might never happen. We've had the most miserable, relentless winter in recent memory, followed by the wettest, coldest, most tortured spring on record. It never. stopped raining.
When they were predicting the end of the world a few weeks ago, I was beginning to think it wasn't the worst idea I'd ever heard....anything to put us out of our misery.
But on the weekend, it got warm. And yesterday, it got HOT. And today it got torrid.
It was 31°C with a Humidex of 41°C. (Translation: 88°F that feels like 106°F. That's not a typo.) The cat thermometer is registering a record 10 feet of cat. It's a bit of getting used to, this "summer in an instant", but even though I sleep in front of a roaring fan and haven't the energy to boil water, I'm not complaining. It's all I've been wanting for the past 6 months.
Toby is the happiest cat ever.....there's furniture to sleep on! Outside! The people are out; I have company!! There are bushes to hide in to surprise the birds!! (The birds are not so happy.)
Long may it last.

Thing 2 and her school band went on a feild trip to Canada's Wonderland, a big amusement park, north of Toronto, full of roller coasters and hellishly expensive junk food.
I volunteered to go along, mostly because I thought they didn't need me, and also, because if they did, I would get to go on the roller coasters.
I absolutely LOVE roller coasters. I would go on just about any roller coaster, ever, except, maybe one that actually might kill me.
(There is one at Canada's Wonderland called the Behemoth that seriously nearly made me cry. It was awesome.)
I've been on school trips before, and if there's one thing I've learned, it's that in comparison to the bus trip there and back, the amusement park is an oasis of calm and serenity. Seriously, those kids get on a bus and they lose their shit entirely. For hours and hours on end; they scream and shout and carry on at the top of their lungs, and love every minute of it.
I've come to realize that for the kids, the bus ride is every bit as exciting as the actual destination. In fact, they would be just as happy to drive around on the bus for an entire day as actually go anywhere. I see the bus ride as a means to an ends; for the 14 year olds, the transportation is part of the ends.
I brought ear plugs, the same ones I use to go to sleep, and I was a much, MUCH happier Mrs. Loudshoes at the end of it all.

Thing 2 is an appalling speller; truly, she cannot write a complete sentance without misspelling something. She comes by it honestly, my mother and myself cannot spell to save our lives. My mother writes letters with a dictionary beside her, and I stumble over the words "licence" and "probably" almost every time I have to write them. Thank God for spell-check.
I don't know how her terrible spelling, (which is usually hilarious) came up, but she declared, somewhat indignantly, that there are "LOTS of words that arent' spelled anything like how they sound".
"Give me and example", I said, and she promptly replied "psychology". (She came up with it pretty fast, like she'd been just waiting to complain about it.) "And 'colonel', and 'rhythm'....a whole BUNCH of animals....like 'penguin'! And 'giraffe'!"
Clearly, I had hit a nerve.
"So, what words ARE spelled like they sound?" I asked.
" 'Zoom', 'melt' and 'tomato' ", she said. "And 'ketchup'. 'Ketchup' is spelled exactly what it sounds like. You can count on 'ketchup'." she said, firmly.
Apparently, this was something she had been thinking about for a long time.

Teenagers and cats....who knows what goes on in their heads?

How Does Your Garden Grow?

2011-05-23T16:40:00.004-04:00

Summer is here. Sort of. It's the Victoria Day weekend here, the unofficial start to summer. Sometimes the weather co-operates and sometimes it does not. This year, it's a bit shifty and prone to sudden mood swings, but mostly a good Victoria Day weekend. (Considering we've had the yuckiest winter and spring in recent memory, AND the world was supposed to end on Saturday, I'd say we're doing fine with a windy, cool day with the odd shower.)

In southwestern Ontario, May 24th is the weekend when you're pretty much guaranteed that the danger of frost is past, and you can put in your bedding plants and vegetable gardens. This means that the garden centres are heaving, mosh pits of sweaty, middle-aged gardeners willing to fight to the death over the last basil plant or a particularly fetching varitey of Martha Washington geranium. Usually, the Mister and I go either the week before or the week after Victoria Day, but somehow found ourselves going yesterday morning, feeling like we were heading into the Battle of the Somme.

The parking lot was full, which we expected, and there was hardly any tussle over getting a little cart in which to trot around our purchases. Luckily, they brought a whole bunch over to the entrance just as we got there; I'd have hated to have to body check anyone so foolish as to get in my way.

First stop was the vegetable/herb section of the nursery. The Mister tried mightily every year to grow such things as broccoli, brussel sprouts, watermelons and strawberries, and every year he is pitifully disappointed. Whatever the reason, we usually only get a broccoli the size of your fist, or a watermelon resembling a baseball.
We do very well, though, with tomatoes, corn and cucumbers. And zucchini; the easiest thing in the entire world to grow is zucchini....all you have to do is show the seeds some soil and they sprout, and with an entire summer of willful neglect and cool disgregard for watering or care of any kind, those plants will each give off approximately one hundred zucchini, each the size of your leg. We bought 4. (I have noticed a disturbing correlation between the ease of prodution and the popularity of the harvest.....the less we like a vegetable, the easier it is to produce copious amounts of it. We once grew enough Swiss Chard to fill a van, and we ate about 3 leaves each of it. None of us like Swiss Chard all that much, and practially had to used a machete to find the back door to the house.)

We got some basil, rosemary and dill, which all make me happy, and the sage, thyme, chives and mint all come up every year without any prodding on our part. We have some catnip for Toby, which can only be adminstered in small doses at sporadic intervals. Last year he was found lying on top of the plant, completely stoned out of his head and utterly useless for days aftewards.

The Mister and I wrote up a list of things we wanted to get for the flower beds, and we had to firmly and absolutley swear to each other that we would stray NOT AT ALL from it, because the two of us are not to be trusted when it comes to buying for the flower beds and the hanging pots. We are like recovering gambling addicts in a casino.....we think we can handle our impulses, and we fail, every time. More than once we have come home from the garden center and unloaded the van, while saying "what IS this?" and "where is this going, exactly?" and "did YOU buy this?". It's like we are in a bedding plant-induced haze and we only come to when we get home.

This year we were VERY good and only bought what we came for, and had to give each other a stern talking to only once or twice. (There was a bit of an incident at the trailing lobelia section, and some strong words amongst the impatiens. Who knew he could have such inflexible opinions on "rose" vs. "pink"?)

Everything got put into the ground yesterday, and our garden looks like it might actually produce some produce. And we are still speaking to each other.
It's a good start to the summer.

Open Letters

2011-05-17T18:29:00.003-04:00

Dear Raccoons,
My garbage cans are not a night club. Please stop partying in there. I'm tired of the cigarette butts and raccoon puke in the breezeway every morning.
Thanks,
Mrs. Loudshoes

Dear Mother Nature,
Enough with the rain. I get it, global warming has pissed you right off and you are giving us a good ass-kicking, but seriously, stop it. It hasn't stopped raining since, what?, the beginning of March and I am starting on my plans for an ark. (You can find anything on the internet.) I promise, if you stop wit the rain, I will stop using paper towels and plastic forks.
Yours Hopefully,
Mrs. Loudshoes.

Dear Crazy Client I Have Booked for Tomorrow.
I am a hairdresser, not a psychologist. Psychologists get paid WAY more than I do to listen to you. I will do your hair for free if you just. Shut. Up. This is not a joke.
Wearily,
Mrs. Loudshoes.

Dear City Department of Cat Licencing,
Your website sucks. It goes around and around in circles and then rejects my credit card. Thus, I have not been able to buy a cat licence for Toby for 2011. (Who needs a licence for a cat, anyway?Are your afraid I might not operate him safely? ) You can come and re-possess him, if you want, preferably at 5 a.m.
Daringly,
Mrs. Loudshoes

Dear Mister,
You make me laugh. All the time. Thanks for that.
Love,
Mrs. Loudshoes.

Drive, She Said

2011-05-16T18:21:00.003-04:00

Congratulations are in order; Thing 1 got her driver's licence last week!

Lots of people have asked me how I feel about it, and I reply, in a word, "thrilled". Not only am I no longer the "Driver of Choice" for Thing 2's frantic social life, I have one more person to drive me around when I want to have that second glass of wine. (The Mister is tired of being the "Driver of Choice" for that particular scenario.)

Thing 1 is a very good driver; she's responsible and cautious and entirely trustworthy. In fact, on her driver's test, the one thing she got marked down on was that she drove under the speed limit and she approached every intersection like she expected to be electrocuted at any minute.

I can appreciate her enthusiasm for getting behind the wheel of the car...I remember the feeling myself. The first few weeks of being able to go wherever you want, whenever you want, is heady. Taking the bus is a pain, especially when you don't really know how the bus system works. (A few weeks ago, Thing 1, Thing 2 and Thing 2's friend took the bus downtown to a frozen yogurt place they like near the salon. All went well until they realized, on the bus home, that they were headed the wrong way. It didn't occur to them that in order to go the way you came you have to cross the street and catch the bus there. It would have taken them days to get home, but the Mister took pity on them and told them to get off the bus and he'd pick them up.)

My father has been diagnosed with cataracts recently, and has been told not to drive. He offered us his car while he's waiting for surgery, and so Thing 1 has another car at her disposal. I think she might actually die of joy.

Of course, the downside is that I don't know where my children are at times. I'm used to them being where I left them, for the most part. It's a bit disconcerting to realize that they could have driven over the border, or be gone to Montreal without telling me. I try not to think of that stuff.

Thing 1 even figured out how to fill the car with gas, and pay for it herself. I can totally get behind this.

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 10 and 11

2011-05-09T12:25:00.002-04:00

I think this is the first finale ever where it didn't matter to me who won; they were all likeable teams and they all were in the last leg on their own merit. Having said that, when Justin and Zev were out, I really wanted Mallory and Gary to win...but I'm happy Jen and Keish won, too. It was nice to see a low-drama team win it. And how nice was that on Mother's Day?
I'm pretty sure if Mallory had won, though, her head would have actually burst into flames, so I'm glad we didn't have to see that.

It does bother me a bit when the final leg comes down to either dumb luck ("Cabbie Roulette!"or sheer physical strength. I'd rather they had some tasks that required memory or problem solving, like they've had in the past. It seemed like there was very little possibility of anyone actually changing position once they left Miami airport.

Poor Zev, it was a very bad day to be a hairy white boy. (And when does that ever happen?)

That waxing looked incredibly painful.....was there any reason that task was there other than to torture and humiliate the racers? It seemed like it was timed, which meant that there wasn't anyway for anyone to finish faster than anyone else, plus, if you've never had anything waxed before, let me tell you that spreading hot wax on your tender bits and pieces and ripping the hair out by the roots is very close to entering the 10th circle of hell.
Also, having learned to wax people in beauty school, I can tell you those women were Satan's minions.....they didn't trim the hair, they spread it on way too big an area and you're supposed to pull the skin taut and then press down on the area really hard right after the wax is ripped off. Justin is going to have some pretty funky regrowth on that chest of his. Not to mention, itchy.

I did like Justin's use of "Spanish As A Default Foreign Language" in Brazil. And the lady who replied "I don't understand you". I really hope they got to drown their sorrows in those caipirinhas, they looked yummy.

I'm thinking there was no real danger of those boats falling, because that? would have been one expensive episode if they had. Besides, they had the guy beside them guiding them the whole time....do you think he was going to say "let 'er rip" and see what happened? And did I hear Mallory say she and her siblings used to "play on fork lifts all the time?" Because that would have been the Mister's fondest childhood dream come true.

I so want to go to the Underwater Lodge! Those little personalized submarine motorcycles looked insanely delightful! And dont' get me started on the Dali-esque, Looney Toons orchestra down there...a couple of caipirinhas and that place would blow. your. mind.

As a professional hairdresser, I live in fear that Miss Rose's hairdo will actually come into style, because I don't have the first freaking idea of where to start to get that. Defying gravity with hair is a tough gig. And did you see that it barely moved through those gale force winds? I want to know what hairspray Miss Rose is using, that stuff must be bullet-proof.

Kudos to the production team....that overhead shot of the Globetrotters wading up one side of Horseshow Island while Keisha and Jen were heading back on the other side, but neither team could see the other, was a great shot.

That bike ride uphill into the wind looked like a complete bitch of a task.....it's like every nightmare I've ever had come true: I have to get to some goal, I'm absolutely frantically desperate to get there, and no matter what effort I put in, some unseen force is thwarting me in every way possible. I would have seriously considered jumping off that bridge and swimming for it.

Until next season!

Wild Life.

2011-05-04T17:59:00.002-04:00

The Mister was driving home from work a few days ago, and although this has been the dreariest, coldest, rainiest spring this millenia, on this particular day it was very sunny. And the Mister was driving into the sun. (Stay with me, this gets relevant soon.)

He was driving on a fairly busy, four-lane artery, past the University, heading towards the bridge and the river. Way up ahead, the traffic had cleared, so he could see a fair ways up the road as it curved towards the west. And near the river, he could see something crossing the road that was alarmingly large and unusually shaped.

Now, Canada does have an abundance of wildlife, but not around here. We live in a city, in a pretty populated part of the world; we've had a black bear wander into town once, and there has been a cougar spotted not too far from here on more than one occasion. (And let's be clear, it's the actual "big cat" cougar, not a 40-year old woman on the make.) But polar bears, caribou and moose don't make an appearance around here.

(Once we went to the "Canadian Section" of the Toronto zoo, which required us to walk down a mile-long, 45° angle hill, only to see a few mangy bears, a resigned moose and one seriously pissed off raccoon. The moose was looking at me with an expression that could only mean "I know, right?". The bears were asleep, looking like nothing but some large, furry sofas and the raccoon was plotting his escape. Thing 1 was in a foul mood anyway, and the disgust on her face when she saw that raccoon made the Mister and I giggle for hours. "You made me walk all the way down here to see this??? I can see one of those eating out of the garbage pail in the breezeway any night of the week! Why don't they put a cat in there! " But the Japanese tourists were enthralled.)

The Mister was puzzled...it looked like a moose: it was big and brown, had 4 legs and was all big and broad at the top and sort of sloped down towards the back. Except....it didn't have a head. (If you think it's rare to see a moose in these parts, you can only imagine how extraordinarily unique a headless moose is.)

As the Mister drove up towards the river, and the angle of the sun changed, he was able to discern that what he thought was a headless moose was actually two guys moving a couch. The lead guy had it up on his shoulder, and the back guy was carrying it in front of him at waist level.

I wish it had been a headless moose. It would have been like the southwestern Ontario equivilent of a Sasquatch.

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 10

2011-05-02T18:36:00.003-04:00

God, but Kent is an insufferable glittery pink and black nutsack, isn't he? Glad he's gone.
I noticed that when Vyxin said that she was left with the "best partner ever" (or words to that effect), there was a honking horn of doom.....I think the producers don't like Kent any more than I do.
Thing 1 said "Vyxen seems like a sweet girl, but Kent is not a sweet girl."

Hey! The Matterhorn looks just like Mount Crumpet! And I'm pretty sure it is named after that Disneyland ride! It's right beside "Pirates of the Carribean Mountain".

How would you like to have been the guy sitting in a freezing cold, icy crevasse, just waiting for some shreiking amatuers to come and rescue you? I hope they got paid a lot.

That was one sweet ride on those helicopters. I wonder how much that cost the producers.

Thing 1 and I are from Canada: we know how to shovel snow. The trick, in case you are wondering, is to go at it in layers, instead of straight down....that snow that clumps up into big chunks is actually kind of light, if you can take it out chunk by chunk it isn't all that bad. But I don't expect two boys from California, or Gary and Mallory from Kentucky to have the extensive knowledge that we have on the subject.

I really laughed when Gary pulled up half of his avalanche victim and yelled "I think he's gonna make it!"

Kent as a "gangsta" is one of the lamest things I've ever seen. Ever. Ever.

I'm with Mallory: I want to eat that gnome.

Favorite Line of the Night: Jen to Big Easy: "Shut up!", Big Easy: "I thought you liked me!" Jen: "I liked you when you were shuttin' up!"

Loved the St. Bernard. I think every pitstop should have an appropriate animal greeter...think of the camels!

I'm off to make ice cubes in the "oven".

Until next week!

April 29th 2011

2011-04-29T18:41:00.003-04:00

I so did not have the same kind of day as Kate Middleton.

While Kate Middleton was walking down the aisle of Westminster Abbey, in a beautiful lace gown to marry a prince of the realm, I was out in the breezeway, in my bathrobe, slippers and some rubber gloves, cleaning up the debris from the raccoon's evident raucous party in the garbage bins. She was smiling and looking radiant. I looked like I'd escaped from the "Home for the Frenzied Bedridden" and cursing enthusiastically.

Later, when she was quietly and solemly declaring her vows, I was boarding a rickety school bus to accompany Thing 2's class on a field trip, a "War of 1812" re-enactment and workshop.

Kate Middleton was signing the Registry with her new name, and curtseying to the Queen. I was freezing my ass off in a a field while listening to a guy with nothing better to do than to pretend to fight a war that was over almost 200 years ago. A guy who was so enthusiasticaly and graphically demonstrated how a field surgeon would amputate an injured leg that it bordered on the disturbing. I'm not kidding; he used a leg of pork (God, I hope it was pork!) as an audio-visual aid and believe me, I've memorized his face for when I have to testify at his inevitable trial at some point. Apparently, someone fainted earlier in the day.

It was so freaking cold I very nearly stood in front of the cannon.

While Kate got to dine on whatever Royals dine on at luncheon (probably quails eggs and diamonds and corgis) I ate my lunch in an picnic shelter with no walls and a gale force wind out of the north. Except I forgot my lunch, and had to eat a granola bar I found in my purse, and a few Goldfish crackers and a Pop Tart from Thing 2's lunch. (Note to self: Do NOT let Thing 2 pack her own lunch from now on.)

No matter how nice her day was, and how decidedly NOT nice my day was, I still don't envy her marrying into that family.

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 9

2011-04-25T11:20:00.002-04:00

Oh, crap on a cracker! I'm so disappointed the Cowboys are out! They looked like they might have been last without that U-Turn, but with the way the leg was designed, there was no way they could catch up with that. I hope the Powers That Be didn't make them eat all that cheese.

That? was a LOT of cheese. Good thing no one is lactose-intolerant. That would have made for a very uncomfortable night. For everyone.

How awful would it have been if Justin and Zev had bailed on the fondue task, only to be U-Turned and have to do it anyway??

I think that shot of Zev looking like he's about to die will be my new desktop.

Why are all the eating tasks accompanied by very loud, very annoying music? Does that make eating a truck load of food harder or easier? Or does every country have a traditional "This Will Make You Puke!" musical institution that I don't know about?

Is map-reading that hard? There seems to always be people on reality shows that cannot read a map....I thought maps were pretty simple, but I guess not. And why would you continually volunteer for tasks that include reading maps when you suck at them? (I'm looking at you, Vyxin.)

Speaking of Vyxin, I wish she would stop calling Kent a "girl". I take offence....I'm a girl and could kick his bony little ass.

I think that was the pissiest we've seen the Globetrotters with each other. When Flight Time lost the two luggage receipts, Big Easy groused for a minute or two, and then they got on with it. Contrast that to Kent's "Neverending Song of Pain". God, that man (and I use the term loosely) could enter the Olympics if "Whining" was an event.

Thing 1 and I looked at each other with absolute HORROR when we found out what Gary and Mallory had to to on the Speedbump. We are both terrible at mental math, and if you add in a bit of stress and a smidgen of sleep-deprivation, neither of us could have figured that out even with a calculator and a tutorial. I think we would have probably just lay down on the road and wept. Let me sit on an ice chair for 10 minutes any day.

Next week: It looks like Kent is going to get his ass handed to him by Big Easy! Can't wait!

Until next week!

How I Ran The Boston Marathon

2011-04-24T18:01:00.002-04:00

Last Monday, I got up off the computer to go for a run, around 10 in the morning. Lo and behold, when I looked outside there was snow on the ground. This should not have been a surprise, since this has been the shittiest spring we've had in years. It has been cold and wet and altogether NOT spring-like....I can be forgiven for being offended by snow on the ground on April 18th. I know we live in Canada, but come on.

I hate running in the snow; my shoes get wet and my feet get cold and I have to mince along like an 18th century dandy so as not to fall on my keester. I suited up to run on the treadmill in the basement.

Just as I got myself on and warming up, I turned on the tv and hey, the Boston Marathon was just starting; the top-ranked women were literally at the starting line waiting for the gun to go off. I was psyched! I paced myself with the front runner and was totally inspired! This was great! I am the laziest creature ever made: I don't stand when I can sit, I don't sit when I can lie down. I hate a challenge and couldn't care less if I lose a contest. I will happily and cheerfullly let myself off the hook at every possible opportunity. As you can imagine, motiviation to exercise is a constant problem.....I would happily stay in bed for the rest of my life. So you can appreciate my delight at a diversion that actually made me want to run. (Let's be very clear about one thing: I have no desire whatsoever to actually run a marathon. When you start running, people will ask you all the time if that is why you've taken up the sport. My reply usually "I'd rather chew off my own arm and beat myself to death with it.")

The race was brisk, but not impossible. The woman who ran out in front of the pack was toddling along at a most acceptable pace, and I was running right along with her! Of course, I had no hills and no wind to contend with, while she had both. And I had a glass of water beside me. And I could stop at any time and no one was watching me. And although I was keeping pace with Kim Smith, I was pretty sure that I couldn't last more than about 20 minutes doing this; she had to keep it up for another 2 hours.

After I gave up, having given it my all for a whole half hour I showered and changed and watched the rest of the race with a Diet Coke and a bag of Cheetos.

And that is the story of "How Mrs. Loudshoes Ran the Boston Marathon".

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 8

2011-04-18T12:28:00.003-04:00

I figured this might be a Non-Elimination Leg when it was almost a quarter to 8 last night and they still hadn't done a Roadblock. And that really was not much of a roadblock....other than fitting into those cute little outfits, there wasn't much to do.

I'm thrilled Gary and Mallory are still in this; I freaking love those two. Anyone who offers to throw up what she ate and take another stab at downing another portion has my undying respect.

Apparently, there is only one travel agency in Varansi, India. I'll bet that's the most business they've ever done at 3:00 in the morning.

Kent really is Mayor McWhinerson of Bellache Town, isn't he? That was one big ol' snivelfest, right there. I don't think the Amazing Editors like him very much either, they way they put together that audio montage of "Kent In Pain". Maybe they could auto-tune that and make it into a hit record. "It's gonna faaaaaallll, it's gonna faaaaallll"

I think I may have figured out Kent and Vyxin's relationship.....she says "we have a romantic relationship that's different from others", (which is one way of putting it, I guess) and he can't tell a woman apart from a man. He kept calling the "chick from Harry Potter" (thanks, Justin!) "him", so I think that goes a long way to explaining his attraction to Vyxin. And she's just whack-a-doo.

Speaking of Vyxin, it looks like she did not succumb to terminal e-coli poisining from her little dip in the Ganges. Maybe she bitched the bacteria right out of her system.

Dear Flight Time: A library is not a urinal. Just to tell you. Love, Mrs. Loudshoes.

Man, would Ron have loved that food challenge, or what?? Except he wouldn't have been too fast about it, and certainly wouldn't have managed to shut up long enough to finish in 12 minutes. It did look like a LOT of food for 12 minutes....I wonder if anyone could have done it?

I kept waiting for someone, anyone, during that couch carrying task to yell "PIVOT!" at some point. Because I'd have done so. A lot.

I was so hoping that the Roadblock in Salzburg would include making play clothes out of drapes, singing "Do, A Deer" and finding children hanging out of trees. Or maybe they should have had to solve a problem like Maria! I wonder if that greeter was one of the Von Trapp Family Singers.

Why did Zev and Justin's new cars have Michigan licence plates? Are they supposed to drive them back to the States and then live in Michigan? I don't get it.
Who the hell was talking when they were telling us what's going to happen next week? Because that was SO not Phil.....I was so distracted by the Not Phil voice that I hardly noticed what was going to happen next week. But let me guess: Mallory jumps up and down with excitement about their next task, the Cowboys drive slowly so they don't get lost and Vyxin and Kent caterwaul endlessly about each other.

Until next week!

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 7

2011-04-11T13:09:00.003-04:00

Ron was so over this race; or else he had some sort of hunger-based dementia on this leg. He seemed to be in a completely different area of the city from the rest of the racers. Only Ron could convince himself that the producer-placed holy men decided to take a breather and go for a swim. When did Kent turn into such a bitch? Apparently "I won't screw you over" actually means "I will turn on you at the first opportunity that is convenient for me". Gary needs a "Kent to English Dictionary". ("Dick" being the operative word there.) Also, Kenty, it's not the cab driver's fault you bonked your noggin. He's busy working, not babysitting you. I really enjoyed the return to Asthmatic Hamster Kent (last seen in Italy a few seasons back), where Kent tries to yell at Vyxen and it comes out all panicky and breathless. "Get out of that water right now" sounded like an exasperated mother of an sugar-crazed toddler. I think Vyxen was just as surprised as anyone else that that water was way deeper than she thought. Except for the guys on the bank; did you see that NONE of them even moved when she went under? I hope she gets some intravenous antibiotics and a metric tonne of Imodium back at the hotel....she's going to need it. Dear Anonymous Varanasi Cab Passenger, Not all North Americans dress like freaks and shout like banshees. Please do not think that the rest of us would demand you leave your cab, or wear circus costumes while doing it. Love, The Rest of Us Here In The West. I love Mallory. I officially love her. She is all kinds of fabulous, even if she does make me want to give her some Ritalin now and again. She seemed genuinely moved by the cremations on the water's edge, and she has embraced the culture shock of India (which had proven in the past to be Kriptonite to other Racers.) Plus, she sussed out Kent's petty little betrayal very quickly. I was delighted that she and Gary arrived at the mat before the Goths. Kudos to all of them, they all seemed to handle India without blaming India for itself. Can you imagine Jaime in that place? Zev, I don't have Aspberger's and I hate loud noises too. There were parts of DisneyWorld that made me feel like I'd wished I'd brought ear plugs, and I'll bet that didn't smell like India. The gang of buffalo thugs in the alley, mugging Justin for his hay was hilarious. I really liked the way Minature Indian Woman kicked the ass of those patty-makers. She used that stick to pull those ill-made patties off the wall like she's done it plenty before. The Cowboys have such a lovely attitude....they see their mistakes and then put their heads down and get the job done. Nice to see a team who does not snark on each other when things get tense. And you sure never saw either one of them jump in the Ganges. I like that they went half way around the world and still had to haul hay. I think the title for this episode should have been "Anorexic Santas". In fact, that is my new Imaginary Band Name! Favorite Line of the Night: "In India, when you push the gas, the horn goes." You know, at this point, I'd be happy enough with just about anyone winning this thing, except Kent and Vyxen. Next week: It looks like Gary and Mallory have to eat an entire veal. Until next week!

Adventures in Health Care.

2011-04-08T12:02:00.003-04:00

I had to have an ultrasound yesterday, and no, it's not because I am pregnant. Suffice it to say, at my physical a few weeks ago, the doctor wanted to get a better look at some of my innards. If you have never had an abdominal ultrasound, let me fill you in on what you have to do. First, it is imperative that your bladder is really full when this is done. They recommend that you drink "four large glasses of water at least an hour before your appointment", their emphasis, not mine. They say this gives them a better look at your bits and pieces by getting a bit more pressure from the inside. I think it's to stop you from hanging around and asking too many questions. Just to tell you, my bladder is the tiniest of all bladders ever created. I arrive everywhere having to go to the bathroom. I ration out liquids with the precision of an American general planning an invasion; my bladder is a finely tuned machine. Ask my mother, I've always been this way. She claims she knew where every public washroom in a hundred square miles was located when I was a kid. The Mister can't figure out why I need a bathroom stop on the way to the mall. I drank one large glass of water on the way to the appointment, about 20 minutes away. By the time I had filled out the paperwork I ready to go. The waiting room was full of panicky, desperate, slightly frantic women of all ages, looking at the clock every two seconds with a slightly deranged look in their eyes and a palpable air of anguish. Every time the technicians came and called someone in, there was a collective sigh of envy and grief. You would not want to spend ten seconds in that room, lest you gave up all hope for a happy life. After a mercifully short wait, I got called in. The technician was a very nice looking young man with a devastatingly beautiful voice. It was not simply because he called my name that I thought so, he really did have a lovely, deep, rich tenor voice that made me want to listen to him all day He got me on the table, and instructed me to lie down and arrange my clothing thus, and then, in that beautiful, melodious voice that sounded like the angels themselves were calling out to you, he said, "Your bladder is really nice and full". Which struck me as so funny coming out from that face and voice that I nearly laughed out loud. Which would have rendered that sentiment as completely false. I managed to make it through the 10 minutes or so of him plopping a wallop of cold, gooey gel on my stomach and then rummaging all over my abdomen to find the required bits and pieces. At the end of the procedure, he said, again in that dulcet murmur "You can use the toilet around the corner", which made me wonder what would be the worst, most unattractive thing he could say in that voice, and still make it sound like George Clooney and Morgan Freeman were here in the room with me...perhaps or "is that smell coming from you?" or "you really should have that looked at" or "that's one hell of a cold sore". This amused me no end until the end of the appointment. At least I made it back to the salon with only two pit stops on the way.

What I Learned From My Exes.

2011-04-06T18:36:00.003-04:00

Before I was married, I treated dating like it was a shopping trip: "Those jeans look amazing, but they are going to cost me way too much", "I've never tried that on before, let me give it a go", "I'll be needing a receipt, because there is a good chance I'll bereturning this and wanting my money back". Dating is a complicated, emotional minefield; basically, you both are shopping for lifetime partners, and it's tough to be the one doing the browsing, and the one put back on the shelf. All the young men were nice enough, navigating that minefield as best they could. And even though I only married one of them, I learned something from all of them.

You can learn a lot about someone by how they talk about their exes.

A lump of cream cheese in your scrambled eggs makes them silky and creamy and unbelieveably delicious.

CBC radio is awesome.

If you don't trust someone enough to lend them your car, you probably shouldn't be dating them.

Looking forward to spending time with your cat more than spending time with your boyfriend is not a good sign.

Wishing you had brought your book on your date is also not a good sign.

If he has a terrible relationship with his parents, one of the most fundamental and important relationships in anyone's life, he's eventually going to have problems with every relationship.

Some one who thinks your parents are awesome, is awesome.

Neither being the breaker-upper or the broken-up-with is easy.

It is possible for two people in a relationship to have two completely different and totally opposite ideas of where that relationship is going, while being entirely ignorant of the other person's perception of said relationship.

And a few things I learned from other people's exes:

Don't date anyone crazier than you.

If someone continually says things like "I'm not good enough for you", believe them.

Learning the names and birthdays of all the neices and nephews of the woman you intend to marry is unbelieveably fabulous.

Finding out that someone has a shitload of debt is a big deal. The fact that they are ignoring it and telling you it's not a big deal is a way bigger deal.

Sweet potatoes make a surprisingly good burrito filling.

Jerry Lewis is NOT a comedic genius, no matter what they say in France.

Alligator Alley

2011-04-04T12:38:00.009-04:00

When my daughters and I went to Florida last month, we were perfectly happy to sit around the condo and the pool, reading and shopping and indulging in the States nearly unexhaustable supply of junk food. But eventually, that gets a little boring, even if you can buy a new kind of potato chip every single day.

Because our policy on vacation is "you don't do, eat or see anything you could at home", we wanted to do something very Floridian, and for that, we had to get the alligators involved. We don't have alligators in southwestern Ontario....we have raccoons and skunks and the occasional directionally-challenged bear, but no alligators.

My parents knew of a place a few hours south of them, on the northern edge of the Everglades, that had tours on those boats with the big fans on the back, which we don't have in southwestern Ontario either, although they might be very good in the snow. \

It was fabulous. Not for the squeamish, though, you get scary close to those alligators.

This is the boat, but that's not us on it. No one in my family would ever wear magenta capri pants. You did get to wear some nifty red earmuffs, because the fan is really loud.

But you can see how low in the water it is, and that there are no railings or anything else much to stop you from toppling out into the alligator-infested water. (The water's only about a foot deep, though, so you might be able to outrun an alligator, what with the adrenaline and all.)

We spent an hour tooling around the lake, seeing dozens of alligators sunning themselves and swimming around. Sometimes the boat got really, really close to an alligator. Like this:

That grey line on the left hand side of the picture is the running board of the boat. Thing 1 took that picture without a zoom lens. The tour guide said that was probably as close as we'd ever get to an alligator, we literally could reach down and touch him. I said that was as close as I ever wanted to get to an alligator. Doesn't he look mean?

We came upon a nest of baby alligators. This one was about a foot long.

Usually, babies of any species ellicit ooohs and aaaawes of delight and appreciation. Not so with baby alligators, which, unlike kittens or koala bears, look menacing and intense. I'm pretty sure this one was eyeing up the soft, tender flesh of my knee while I was taking this picture.

The boat was very stable and you didn't feel tippy or anything in it, but you really do get close to those alligators. One woman asked if they would lunge at the boat, and the tour guide replied "I'm supposed to say 'no' ". Comforting.

The pool and a bag of chips was about as adventurous as we got after that.

The Obvious

2011-03-31T21:32:00.001-04:00

1. Barb at work got a Tobi clothes steamer, which came in a box. 2. We have a cat named Toby. 3. He loves a good box. 4. What would you do?

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 6

2011-03-28T07:54:00.007-04:00

Watching with Thing 1 last night, we both agreed that if a task was ever "too hard" the other one would console her and comfort her and then remind her that this was on national television and her curling up on the floor and crying would be on YouTube forever. If eternal embarrasment didn't work, then a sound ass-kicking would commence. We've got it all worked out. I did have a bit of sympathy for the racers when I saw all that tea....I have the teeny tiniest bladder God ever made and I had to go to the bathroom just looking at that table of ten thousand tea cups. Hopefully, Thing 1 would have done it. But, it wasn't TOO hard, because a bunch of other people did it.....Flight Time definitely looked like he wanted to throw up, but he just put his head down and got on with it. Luke's downfall on both his seasons of the race was his getting completley overwhelmed by his own frustrations, and then focusing on that instead of the task at hand. Somehow I thought if anyone would lie down and cry on this race, it would be Kent. I think this is the first Amazing Race where they've gone to India and NO ONE has complained about the smell or has been overwhelmed by the crowds and the culture shock. Mallory even seemed to enjoy it. Of course, India's not over yet. Cab drivers in India are whack-a-doo. Apparently they are all competing in some sort of race for a million ruppees and are willing to die in the attempt. Wait a minute..... I really liked Zev's slammin', silky, tea-tasting pajamas. Apparently he tweeted after the show: "Lotsa peeps asking why the silver pajamas...the answer: BECAUSE THEY'RE AWESOME." He's dead right, they are awesome. But you really shouldn't break other people's tea cups, Zev, because that's not yours. Who knew that "disco music" was the key to Ron's soul? Here he's been whining and grumping his way all around the world, and it all could have been so much better with a Bee-Gee's soundtrack. I'm sorry, but that Indian music would have driven me crazy....for some reason that stuff goes right to the base of my brain stem and drowns out any other thought....its' like musical Dementors for me. We used to eat at a particular Indian restaurant here in town that had the most nasally, piercing music....loved the food but had to stop going because I'd be in such a funk by the time we'd eaten. I loved them all messing with Mallory at the Town Hall gate, and her good natured "I hate y'all!". It's nice to see a race where they all seem to like each other and there's not a lot of sniping and bitching about other teams. Of course Kent and Vyxyn were good at painting a statue of Ganesh; those two have the most weirdly diverse and transferable skills I think I've ever seen since Grandpa Don. ("I used to do my own dental work! I know how to mine gold! When I was a kid, we always made our own car batteries!") How much did I love the guys in the funny red hats at the tea-tasting? They were fabulous...from their clear "WTF" faces at Luke breaking down to their obvious sympathy and relief when he finished, those guys were all kinds of awesome. I liked that Margie thanked them and hugged them too. And watching Jaime (and to a lesser extent) Cara get eliminated never gets old for me. And you know what? I like everyone left...it will be hard to see the next couple of weeks, because I don't really want anyone out and I'd be happy to see any of the teams left win. Mrs. Loudshoes is going to have to work very hard to get her snark on. Until next week!

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 4

2011-03-21T08:18:00.004-04:00

Excellent episode! Dinosaurs! Wacky native costumes! Cab drama! If only there had been donkeys and drunken, laughing locals!

Jamie and Cara being U-Turned right in front of their faces was, hands down, the best thing I think I've ever seen on this show. Ever, ever. It was a huge big steaming pile of awesome. I will love Kent and Vyxen forever for that, even if she can't read a compass and he wears too much lipgloss. And that's exactly who you do U-Turn: the team you know is behind you, not the team how's already passed you, like last time. And the double U-Turn meant that they would U-Turn someone, ensuring that there would be two teams behind them slowed down....that Kent is wiley like a coyote, I tell you.
I'm kind of sorry not to be able to see Jamie in India, though. That would have been all kinds of fun, watching her head burst into flames.

Did you notice Jamie on the mat saying "things never go our way". Really? I'm sure the people in Japan trying to prevent a nuclear meltdown in the midst of more earthquakes are having a picnic in comparison to you.

Meanwhile, Ron is still a tool.

I think that's the snottiest I've seen Mallory in two seasons of racing....her "Fine. Now!" was like watching a kitten have a tantrum.

That dinosaur model looked tough....neither Thing 1 or I wanted to take that one! My nephew got a little one of those for Christmas once, and it took several people with a bunch of university degrees to figure that stupid thing out. And we didn't have to worry about falling off any ladders.
Thank GOD I didn't have to watch Mel and Mike do that one....I wouldn't have been able to stand it.

I liked when the Globetrotters were trying to figure out the doll order, and they memorized it with "skunk, bucket, mop..." Because that's exactly how I would do it, too!
Also, I loved when Zev and Justin picked the top bunk on the train (Which looked to be about 40 feet up) to avoid being murdered easily.....that's the way I think, too!! To this day, I don't stay on a hotel floor above the 9th, because my mother told me that's as high as the firetruck ladders can reach. See? I'm always thinking.

What was with the unneccesary but ghastly close-up of the ginormous Chinese spider?

So, Kent knew the periodic table a few weeks ago, and now confesses a working knowledge of dinosaurs? Methinks all the eyeliner and pink lipstick is to cover up what a massive adorkable science nerd he really is.

Favorite Line of the Night: when they were playing basketball (which I loved!) and Jet said that playing with Big Easy was "like playing against a tree."
Also, I liked Justin's improve in trying to convey Stone Forest to the cabbie by picking up a rock and pointing to a tree. Maybe not the most effective communication, but he gets props for creativity.

The girls and I had a 90 minute drive to get to Fort Myers to catch a flight last week, and we had hours in which to do it. And I was stressed about it all the night before. It really does bring home to you what kind of tension these guys deal with for weeks at a time. No wonder Killer Fatigue takes such a round out of them.

Next week: India! India is kryptonite for Racers! No country has eaten more racers alive than India!
Looks like Luke turns on the waterworks again. I'm sure Ron will be all kinds of sympathetic.

Scare And Scare Alike.

2011-03-20T21:17:00.004-04:00

I wouldn't consider myself very nervous or high-strung, but considering how easily I get startled or scared, I may have to re-think that.

The Mister is very light on his feet, and at least once a day, he comes up behind me and scares the shit out of me. Not on purpose, mind you, just because I haven't heard him and he starts talking to me when I didn't know he was there. I've suggested he start wearing a bell, and he's suggested that I get my hearing checked.

It's happened a few times at work, too. The counter where I mix the colour formulas makes me stand with my back to the door, and inevitably someone comes in the mixing room, thinking I've heard them, and starts talking to me. I jump out of my skin and suffer a mild coronary, and then I answer their question. We had a new assistant one day, who did that while introducing himself to me. He said it was the best first day he ever had at any job.

When I was a teenager, someone gave me a life-sized poster of Humphrey Bogart for my birthday. I hung it on the inside of my bedroom door, but had to take it down after a couple of weeks; I kept waking up in the middle of the night in a mild seizure because I thought there was a man standing in my doorway. It would take ages for my adrenal glands to calm down and let me go back to sleep.

I never had to share a room with anyone much, and was used to sleeping by myself. When the Mister and I first got married, I had a couple of incidents where I'd wake up a bit and then leap out of bed in fear when I realized I could hear someone else breathing...."there's someone in the room with me!!" Then I'd remember I was married. The Mister can laugh about it now, but was really pissed back then. Have all the panic attacks you want, but don't mess with the Mister's sleep.

Today I managed to scare myself. I was awake really early this morning, so I got up to go out in the living room to read for a bit, planning on going back to bed. I turned on the light in the living room, and then went to find my book, and as I came back into the living room, caught a glimpse of my reflection in the window and for a split second was convinced there was someone outside looking in. In the exact same bathrobe as me. It scared the snot out of me.

I'm not sure if I need Valium or new glasses.

Florida Adventure, 2011

2011-03-17T11:20:00.006-04:00

The girls and I are home from a beautiful week in Florida; my parents have rented a place on the Gulf coast for the month of March, and we took advantage of the free room and board and enjoyed a week in the sun.
There really is nothing like that blast of hot, humid air when you step out of the airport when you go on vacation to somewhere warm from somewhere cold. Just to illustrate, we went from this:

to this:

in three hours. That? is nothing short of a freaking miracle.

The girls had never been to Florida before when they weren't at Disney World, so this was a bit of a different expericence for them....I think it was a bit of a shock for them that people actually live there, that there are schools and churches and malls, and that not everyone wears a name tag.

We went to parks and the beach, we did some shopping, and hung out by the pool a lot. When you live in Canada, the idea that you can swim outside, wear flip-flops and need sunscreen in March is incredibly heady. We never got tired of exclaiming "it's winter!" to each other, all week.

Thing 1 and Thing 2 got their first taste of the ocean; they'd never seen it before. Unfortunately is was way too cold to actually go swimming in the Gulf of Mexico; we're Canadian but we're not crazy. (I have some cousins that grew up in south Florida, near Fort Lauderdale, and they were shocked and somewhat in awe that my father would go swimming in their pool when it was only 80°F! We used to be thrilled when our pool here got up to 80.)
They spent their time collecting shells, which you don't get on beaches on the Great Lakes. (Unless you count zebra mussells, which we don't.)
Gasparilla Island was close by, and they have possibly the world's most boring lighthouse. Apparently the island is over run with iguanas, but we didn't see any.

The Mister didn't come with us; his idea of a vacation is not shopping and a book by the pool. But he did excellent work dropping us off at Detroit airport and picking us up. I think he enjoyed the week on his own...he had plenty of time on the computer and probably didn't eat a vegetable the entire time.
Toby was beyond thrilled to see us come home yesterday; I'm sure he thought we were gone for ever. ("And you left me with him???? He does NOT get up at a reasonable hour and is incredibly snarky when I have to remind him to do so, and worse, he eats the tuna himself!! What have you done to me?!?")
This morning he practically turned himself inside out when he realized that I was right there in bed where God intended me to be! He could not stop purring and head-butting and drooling all over me. It was a nice, if rather messy, welcome.

I'm back to work tomorrow; the girls have a few more days of March Break before they are back to reality. But we have the pictures to prove we were there, even if we can't wear flip-flops any more.

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 3

2011-03-07T12:10:00.003-05:00

As I was tiring of the whole "When Will Mel Actually Die" story arc, seeing he and Mike go home doesn't bother me too much. It was bad enough that Mel seemed to be struggling every single step of the way, but watching Mike wring his hands and sound like Olive Oyl all day long was getting on my last nerve. And just a side note, how come Mike looks as old as his dad?

Rules of the Race # 17: NEVER, EVER pick a connecting flight over a direct flight. Unless of course, the connecting flight is 12 hours or more ahead of the direct flight. Or the movies are really good.
Also? A Needle in a Haystack option relies too much on luck, I'd always pick the more physically challenging but faster option. Just sayin.

I had no idea that Christina and Azaria were a couple. Of course, if I recall correctly, he was an overbearing, bossy turdwagon who never listened to his racing partner and told her she was doing everything wrong all the time. Kind of like Ron, so, okay.

Speaking of Ron, I think Zev is not the only racer with Aspberger's. In fact, I think Zev is more socially capable and functions with a tad more awareness and sensitivity than Ron ever has.

As much as I thought Christina sounded like she was tattling on the Globetrotters to Phil, I guess I have to give her some slack because she has to listen to Ron all the live long day. Can you imagine that car ride from the waterfall to the pitstop??? No doubt it was Ron complaining and bitching all. the. freaking. way. to the only person who was just as freaked out as he was about it. Ron reminds me of my old band leader in high school, who yelled at all of us that showed up for practice about the lazy ass ones who didn't show up.....I'm sure Christina got everything he wanted to say to the Globetrotters, and then some.

I was kind of disappointed in Jaime during the little car accident incident; I was kind of looking forward to her head actually bursting into flames right there on the Tokyo sidewalk. But she handled everything far more calmly and patiently than predicited, and I didn't get to see her spontaneously combust. Of course, she did have to snot that the guy was making a big deal out of things, but seriously, maybe the laws are different in Japan than what you're used to, it could be a company car, the guy might have already had issues with his insurance company, maybe it's a freaking expensive mirror, who knows; his mirror, his call on how to handle it.

Favorite Line of the Night: Justin: "We're a team". Zev: "Don't touch me."

I just want to tell Jaime and Cara that panda are Chinese, not Japanse.

Was it just the channel we were watching, or did everybody get that weird echoing sound on the "Next week on" previews? Because it sounded like Phil was announcing that from Pluto.

Until next week!

Over the River and Through the Woods.

2011-03-05T17:07:00.003-05:00

I'm taking the girls to visit my folks in Florida next week, and I am in the midst of the pre-vacation frenzy that is known as "Prolly Days". (You know, "I should prolly take that sweater. I should prolly get American cash. I should prolly cancel the paper.")

It occurs to me that taking a week's holidays takes up two other weeks of your life as well...the week before is Prolly Days, and the week after is Holiday Hangover, when you have to re-enter your life and take care of all the stuff you missed while you were away. Somehow, only 7 days away can feel like you have been time-travelling and you are not quite synced with your real life and you have to fake it for a few days while you try to assimilate all the changes that have happened while you left; like who's out on America's Next Top Model, and the house across the street still has their recycling bins out. It can be very disconcerting.

I went to the bank yesterday and got American money, and hallelujah, the Canadian dollar is at par! There was a time when it cost us $1.60, if you can believe it, to buy an American buck. Now it's like there's a huge, America-sized sale on, and we don't have to pay HST!
I also got our health insurance, $60 for the three of us for a week, because there's no way I'm taking the chance that one of us will need a kidney transplant while we're there and have no way to pay for it.

I also had to buy new yoga pants for the plane, because flying in jeans is all kinds of uncomfortable. Thank God for yoga pants, even though I only did one yoga class in my entire life and I had a very hard time not falling asleep during it. (I was afraid that if I did fall asleep, I would drool like a St. Bernard and then do that jerking thing where you dream you're falling off a cliff. Doing that in public earns you no friends.)

I also got a crossword puzzle book, a few new books for my Kobo, and because I am a tiny bit OCD, a real, live book, just in case the Kobo conks out on me and I am left with nothing to read for two hours. (Can you imagine? The horror. Even my kids don't want that to happen, and they LIKE talking to me.)

I've topped up our phone minutes, written lists of what to pack, remembered the GPS, printed off maps of where we need to go, hired rental cars, rented a hotel room for one night and confirmed tickets and that we all have passports. Thank God the Mister is staying here and I don't have to deal with turning things off, setting lights on timers, locking the garage door or finding a babysitter for Toby.

I'll be so exhausted from organizing our holidays, I might be too tired to actually go on our holidays.

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 2

2011-02-28T09:23:00.002-05:00

Yay Cowboys! I thought they were goners, wandering around Sydney for hours on end....thank God for Bunching Points! I wish they would smarten up a bit and not do that sort of thing anymore; I'm getting a headache shouting at the tv all the time.
I can't say that I was surprised that Kris and Amanda went, because a U-Turn seems to be the kiss of death for almost everyone who gets it.

Zev made me laugh out loud three during this episode; once when he said "and there's not a steakhouse in sight!" (because I would have said the exact same thing!!) and also when he said, very seriously "I shut my tail in the door". And when Justin said he was very artistic and he chirped in with "and autistic!" I just wasn't expecting any of that.

Did you know that Kent (which is how he spells it now) is 35? I thought the two of them were in their late twenties. (Vyxen is 32!) I've never seen a Goth over 40....this should be interesting when we see them on "The Amazing Race, All Star Season 56", and they are in their 70's and covered in glitter and pink lip gloss.

Colour me gobsmacked when Kent knew the periodic table well enough to know "mercury" and "bismuth" right off the bat. You think you know a person.....
Just for the record, I would have failed that task utterly. The only time I took chemistry, in Grade 11, I tried mightily for an entire semester, just barely scraping by on every test. My teacher told me that I had lots of potential for lots of things, but clearly chemistry wasn't one of them....if I promised to never take a class from him again, he would pass me. I took that deal, and never took chemistry from anyone again. True story.

I did enjoy Kent's random "gathering of the children". He was just so....gentle and calm about it, even though it was kind of creepy and seemed to foreshadow some terrible ending for those kids, like he was going to drink their blood or something. Luckily, that didn't pan out. It did remind me of the "drawing a circle around the children" from last season. Perhaps they should warn children who participate in this that frantic, shreiky Americans are wack-a-doo.

I think they should have to keep those kangaroo costumes on for the rest of the race.

My favorite Edit of the Night: when all the racers were bouncing down the street and the cameraman panned over to the "Animal Control" van.

Do you think Mallory's head just ever....bursts into flames?

Christina, honey, the only work you need to do is realize that your father is never going to change.

Next week: Oh please, pretty please, tell me Jaime spends some time in a Japanese jail!

Poop Deck.

2011-02-25T15:21:00.002-05:00

I had coffee this morning with my friend, Mary, possibly one of the funniest women God ever created. She not only makes me laugh so loud that other people turn and look, she has an ear-splitting howl that makes me laugh all the harder, too.

Mary is a kindergarten teacher, and you'd be hard pressed to find someone better suited to the job. She adores the kids, takes everything in stride and, most important for a kindergarten teacher, has not one item of "dry clean only" clothing in her entire wardrobe.

She was telling me about a lo-o-ong day last week, where all the kids were behaving like raging meth addicts, and she was very much looking forward to the cold Blue Light she knew she had stashed in the fridge that morning. As the kids were getting their snow gear on, she became aware of a commotion in the coat room, with the phrase "I think it's poo" wafting through the little voices, spurring her on to get in there right smart.

She found two little ones on their hands and knees, inspecting a small brown thing at close range, one opining that it was a raisin, and the other concluding that it was a turd. Mary got them away from the offending article, and did a quick visual inspection of the rest of the classroom. Sure enough, another "raisin" was found behind the rocking chair, as well as some tracking evidence across the carpet. She called the custodian and started to try to figure out who the culprit was.

Naturally, no one was owning up to it; she said she'd have been surprised if anyone had. (Good God, can you imagine any 5 year old admitting to such a thing???? You'd spend the rest of your school career, nay, your life, as the kid who pooped in kindergarten. Even a little kid can see that right there would be a life-altering admission.) The girls in leotards were off the hook, that would take some fairly obvious manoevering to work that out in a hurry. Maybe a boy in boxer shorts and a fidgetly leg? Hard to tell.

When she was in the staff room when everyone was gone, one of the kids' parents came in and laughingly asked Mary about it, since her son told her there was a turd in the classroom and no one knew who it came from. (I think she was suspicious of her own offspring, in all honesty. )

Mary just told the mother "kids have so much fun in my class they just shit themselves. What can I say?"

My job is a piece of cake.

Amazing Race, Unfinished Business Episode 1

2011-02-21T14:05:00.002-05:00

This is the eighteenth season of this show, and it still manages to have me on the edge of my seat and not knowing what will happen next....how do they do that??

So glad to see Kynt and Vyxyn again, and the Globetrotters, Justin and Zev and of course, the Cowboys. Not to happy to see Ron the Poophead and Christina the Wearily Patient. And, sigh, I really hope I don't have to listen to Jaime bitch her way around the world again. From snarking at the boat guys to hurry it up when they flipped the skiff, to her screeching "off my foot! off my foot!", I'm tired of her already.

Glad to see Big Easy cared if the heart attack patient lived or died. If anyone else thought that, they didn't mention it.

I'm pretty sure those sharks were well fed and drugged....they didn't look too interested in eating anybody. The turtle looked way scarier. Holy moley! even I ducked when that stingray the size of a minivan swam over Jen's head! Goth makeup does not seem to fare well in a shark tank.

Nice to see the Cowboys took the class "Spanish: the International Language of Foreign Places". They said "gracias" quite a few times, which is probably more helpful in South America or the Carribean than in Australia. As far as I know, the Spanish never had much of a foothold in Sydney.

Thank You Amazing Editors: John "Amanda's really good at puzzles", Amanda: "What?"

Kynt definitely slapped the beach-greeter on the ass. I rewound it to check.

Mallory and Jen both started the flag challenge with "okay, that's a triangle...", which clearly looked like a diamond to me. Was there some sort of International Conference on Changing The Name of Every Day Shapes that I missed?

The look on Mallory's face when Phil told them they were still running was priceless! They should put a picture of that in the dictionary under the word "gobsmacked". She looked a lot like the kid in "Home Alone" when she did that. I had to laugh when Phil told her to stop talking and start running.

Next week: old people have a bad day.

Until next week!

Things I Would Like To Know That Are None Of My Business

2011-02-04T20:30:00.004-05:00

1. There is a homeless guy who hangs out near the Tim Hortons' near work, and I see him up at the mall occasionally. He's always polite and sober, and never says more than "have a nice day" with a genuine smile. He seems perfectly normal and functioning, except for the fact that he bathes twice a year and has no belongings or a roof over his head. Why is he homeless?? What's going on that he can't sort his life out? What's up with him. I want to know.

2. The people across the street have lived there for at least 5 years. I have barely set eyes on them in that time....they only seem to come out at night. I think they might be vampires. Also, on occasional summer evenings, I can hear what sounds like a tv coming from their backyard. From the backyard across the street. Why on earth is their tv that loud?

3. My parents have a neighbour we call "Mr. Dogshit", because he's an asshole, and he won't pick up after his dog. He's fought with everyone in the condo complex at one time or another. A few weeks ago, the police came to his door and very quietly arrested him. He's come back since (out on bail??) and been keeping a very low profile. What the hell was that all about? We are dying to know.

4. I read the obituaries every morning, and my morbid curiosity wants to know how some of them died.

5. We had a client who was planning her wedding for over a year; she was really excited about it, came in with her sisters and mother for trial runs and everything. They were all into it big time. And then one day someone called the salon to cancel everything, saying the wedding was off. We've never seen any of them since. And you can bet, even a couple of years later, one of us will occasionally wonder what happened there.

6. There is another client at the salon who's husband was convicted of fraud and sentenced to some jail time. (This was a family who regularly bounced cheques with us, and seemed to be cheerfully indifferent to financial responsibility. Turns out he was using other people's money to supplement their income, and was somewhat surprised when they objected. That was all in the paper.) She still comes into the salon, and we see him around from time to time, but he doesn't seem to be incarcerated....I am all agog to find out what's going on there.

7. I did a client's hair only a few times, and then didn't see her again. She was from Ukraine, right off the plane, and she said she had met her husband on the Internet and then came over here to marry him. I always wondered if she was a mail-order bride. It's not really something that you can ask someone, is it?

8. Other people's finances are an endless source of speculation for me. I come by it honestly, my mother and I spend a lot of time playing "How Do You Think They Can Afford That?"? I wonder all the time if people are in shitloads of debt or if money is no object. I find it difficult not to ask perfect strangers at Ikea if they can actually pay for that new bookcase, or are they adding to the tsunami of owing that will eventually drown them for ever? The Mister hates taking me to Ikea.

9. There is a woman in the neighborhood who walks a LOT. She's must be out walking for hours every day, I see her all the time. That in itself is worthy of note, but when she walks she swings her arms so hard and vigorously that it's a wonder they're still attached to her shoulders. Seriously, she'd hurt you if you got in her way. My father has nicknamed her The Woman That Walks With Her Arms, and if you mention that to anyone at this end of town, they will gasp with recognition and say "I know exactly who you're talking about!" Why does she do that? And doesn't it hurt? I want to know.

Kibbles and Bits

2011-02-03T19:03:00.004-05:00

There has been very little blog-worthy of late....the winter doldrums have rendered me mute. All I seem to want to do these days in live in my pajamas and eat chocolate. (Truthfully, I want to do that all the time, but I especially want to do it around now.)

We've had lots of cold and lots of snow this winter. And somehow, when February 1st comes, I feel like we are starting to see the beginning of the end, and spring is starting to become a possibility. And every year, I'm dead wrong. This year, I'm wronger than usual....we had another storm yesterday, which meant more snow, which means it will never, ever be spring again.

Thing 1 had exams last week, the end of first semester. She's a good student, has very little trouble in school and gets through things like exams without much drama. But on Monday morning, she came upstairs from her room all wild-eyed and panicky: "Is it REALLY 8 o'clock???", she gasped. I assured her that it was......"My alarm didn't go off!! My exam is in half an hour!" she croaked. You know, I've had this nightmare, I totally understood her panic. (Except, usually, when I'm having this nightmare, I'm naked and riding a camel.) I told her to get dressed and put in her contacts, and I'd make her a bagel and drive her to school. She got there in time, and wrote the exam. Except, in all the morning fuss, she forgot that she had a vocal exam right after, and missed that. (The teacher was very understanding and let her do that exam the next day.)

Toby does not like the cold weather, and has decided on voluntary incarceration for the duration. This means that I have been elected to the Entertainment Committee, of which I am the sole member. Toby is deeply disappointed in my performance, as I do not provide ample amusement, such as changing the bed linen daily, or feed him tuna endlessly. Naturally, this means that Toby has to prompt me to pay attention to him,usually when I'm typing, or reading the paper. But mostly, he shows his displeasure when I am sleeping; my sleeping is an abomination, and will not be tolerated. (Which is ironic, really, since he sleeps all the live long day.) This morning, Toby walked all around the pillow, while I was still using it, managing to stand on my hair with almost every step. Then, this afternoon, while I was napping, Toby decided the best place in the world to settle down and purr like a jet engine, was right on top of my head.....I had a "cat hat". Any appendage that pokes out of the bed covers must be ambushed at once. Drooling and head-butting at 4 a.m. is mandatory. If spring doesn't come soon, I'm going to have to take a leave of absence from my job.

I bought a treadmill a few weeks ago, because running outside in a foot of snow is out of the question. (I haven't been running since the snow started at the beginning of December. And you know what? I haven't noticed one, tiny little difference in my weight, my energy levels, my moods, nothing. One more piece of evidence in the "Exercise Is Crap" file.) Man, running on a treadmill is a bazillion times easier than running outside! No hills, no wind, no curbs to trip over, and your shoes don't get wet. One downside? I end up watching "E! True Hollywood Story" while working out, and that shit will dissolve your grey cells. The other day I found myself watching a show about Whitney Houston and Bobby Brown....I mean, what the hell? My quads will be in great shape when I'm in the Early Dementia wing of the nursing home.

Luckily, February is only 28 days long.

C-c-c-c-cold

2011-01-21T17:08:00.002-05:00

Compared to other parts of Canada, we actually don't the worst winter weather. (It's -30°C in Winnipeg today. -22° in Farenheit.) Here? the wind is whipping out of the northwest, so even though it's only -12°C, it feels more like -21°. But you don't have to see a thermometer to know it's stinking cold out there....
How do you know it's cold?

The snow squeaks when you walk
The car doesn't warm up until you're almost at work
There's no point in taking off your outerwear if you are going out again within the half hour
The sky is the same colour as the snow
The snow sparkles at night
Toby only goes out for a few minutes, once a day. (He WANTS to go out all the time, but when the door is opened and that cold air hits his nose, he changes his mind.)
Toby runs around like a lunatic for about 40 minutes a day, because he's inside too much.
All I want to do is read in bed and eat my weight in carbohydrates.
Your eyelashes stick together when you go outside, and it hurts to breathe deeply.
The garbage doesn't need to go into the cans, because it freezes before any wildlife can smell it and get into it.
You put on gloves to toss out the recycling from the back door.
You can't wash the car, because the doors will freeze shut
You wear long underwear, even if you're just going out to a movie or dinner
You look for a grocery cart that's been inside for a while, because a cold cart hurts your hands.
You walk funny, so the cold fabric of your pants doesn't touch your legs too much
You can make all kinds of stops on the way home from the grocery store, because the milk won't go bad.

Driving Miss Crazy.

2011-01-17T20:27:00.004-05:00

Thing 1 had her first driving lesson this evening! Woo hoo! No one is more excited than me for her to get her driver's licence.....Thing 1 will be Thing 2's unofficial chauffeur when that happens, and I'm dying to give up the title myself.

Thing 1 is taking Driver's Ed, since the insurance savings is significant, and it's probably better that she learn to drive from someone who actually knows how to teach it, not just from your opinionated parents. She had the in-class stuff over the Christmas holidays, which she said was pretty boring. ("Oh, drinking and driving is bad?? You don't say! Please tell me more for another 5 hours!") Now she's doing the in-car stuff with her instructor.

I don't remember much about learning to drive. I didn't take driver's ed, so I just had some willing adults teach me how to drive. My parents were pretty good teachers, as well they should be, since they were both professional teachers at the time. (But teaching someone how to read and teaching someone how to drive are two different things.) My older brother was actually a pretty good teacher, when he was paying attention. (He tended to amuse himself when we were stopped at red lights by yelling pick-up lines at the most unattractive losers standing at bus stops, and then ducking out of sight so they thought it came from me. Good times.) I can't recall under what circumstances this happened, but a good friend of the family's, Paddy, took me out driving one day. Paddy's idea of essential driving wisdom was to point at some other, deficient driver and tell me "you want that whore in front of you, not behind you". (Note: "whore" is pronounced to rhyme with "sewer".) It must have all been good, because I've never had an accident or an infraction. (Except for one speeding ticket. I got it on my birthday when I was 26. The cop even had the balls to wish me "happy birthday" as he handed me my ticket.)

When I was 28 I bought my first car, a Toyota Tercel, which came with a manual transmission. My dad had to take it for the test run, because I'd only driven automatics. It was my brother's instruction that taught me how to drive a standard, and despite my deep misgivings, I did manage to drive that thing eventually. (It would take me ages to get home from work, usually a 15 minute drive, because I went miles out of my way to avoid a hill start. One of the women I worked with lived not too far from me, and when I'd offer her a ride home she'd sigh and give me a weary "sure", and then would call her husband to tell him she'd be late.) The only "payment" my brother wanted for teaching me how to drive a manual transmission was that I had to promise to teach someone else later; I have and extract the same promise from them.

Thing 1 is already a pretty good driver; she's cautious and responsible. She just needs a bit of practice. And I think that if you can learn to drive a minivan in a Canadian winter, you should be able to drive just about anywhere. Thing 2 in the car is a hurdle for another day.

Hear Today

2011-01-12T17:07:00.003-05:00

One of the things that is hard to accept when you get older is that your body will simply stop working the way you expect it to, without any warning, and no do-overs. My right hip has decide it does NOT like getting up off the couch quickly. My stomach, in a pique, has renounced potato chips, lest I want heartburn so bad I could breathe fire. And last April, I woke up one morning to discover my left ear had just....stopped working.
I couldn't hear anything, like I the left side of my head was under water. I thought it might go away through the day, but no. A few weeks later, I still couldn't hear a thing out of that ear, and I was wandering around like a typical 90 year-old, cupping my ear and squinting and saying "eh??" Occasionally, when I tipped my head to be parallel to the floor, or when I yawned, I would hear a very loud crackle and then it would clear up for a few minutes and then go back to all muddled and fuzzy. Sometimes the crackle would be so loud it would startle me....I'm sure I looked ridiculous, yawning and then jumping like I'd been electrocuted, right in the middle.

The doctor sent me for a hearing test in the summer. (The guy who tested me must not be used to dealing with people who are under 80 or not completely deaf, because he came into the waiting room, stood straight in front of me and looked me in the eye before declaring "HELLO. MY. NAME. IS. LARRY. LARRY. I. WILL BE. TESTING. YOUR HEARING. TODAY." I had to tell Larry I could hear him just fine, as long as he stood on my right side.) Conclusion? I'd lost some hearing in my left ear. Thanks for that.

Occasionally, it would clear up for a few minutes, and then a few hours, and around Christmas time I noticed it seemed to be just fine all the time. But I had an appointment booked for yesterday with the specialist, so I figured I'd better go, just in case it came back. (The waiting room was full of people going "what???" It was like performance art.)

The specialist was a bandy little man, very good-humored and matter of fact. He'd clearly been doing this for a long time, and seemed happy enough to poke and prod and look inside my ears. (What a way to make a living!) Like Larry, he spoke to me in clear, measured tones until he figured out I wasn't deaf. After poking and prodding and asking me a million questions, he put a little probe up my nose to see if there was any obstructions at the back of my throat. ( Afterwards, I said I hoped that was the weirdest thing I did all day.)

After all that, he smiled and told me "you seem to have had some sort of obstruction in your middle ear that made you lose some hearing. That obstruction seems to be gone now, and your hearing has come back. I can't tell you why that happened, but I can tell you it might come back. Or not. We'll see". At least he was amused by this rather wishy-washy prognosis. I wondered how long he had to go to medical school to come up with this pithy conclusion.

He did say that middle age brings some not-so-delightful surprised, but that, since my hearing had come back and I appeared to have no outstanding medical issues, I should count my blessings and enjoy it while it lasts.

He's right..... hear, hear.

Heads Up.

2011-01-04T19:42:00.004-05:00

I knew when I went into hairdressing that my feet would hurt and I might have to deal with some strange people. I was a bit surprised at how much wear and tear my hands had to take, and how much money people think I make. (To be clear, I do not pocket the entire sum you pay for your haircut.) But one of the things that did surprise me when I started hairdressing, is how strange and varied people's head shapes are. Seriously, you'd be amazed at how many peculiarly formed some people's heads are, and, here's the kicker, they don't even know themselves! They think their heads are perfectly normal. As do you, probably.

I remember shampooing one woman's head and, as my fingers moved to the back of her head from just above her ears, my hands were moving towards each other at an entirely impossible angle; her head was absolutely triangular. Like, I didn't know if she could ever sleep on her back, triangular. That occipital bone (that lump about half way down the back of your head) is supposed to run parallel to the ground, not perpendicular. It was like shampooing a block of cheese.
Another client I saw once had an occipital bone that stuck way out from her head, way more than was usual. She could easily smuggle a couple of ounces of pot under her hair and no one would ever notice.

Sometimes I would put my hands in someone's hair to run it into the basin, and lo and behold, their head looked normal sized, but it turns out they had ridiculous amounts of hair and a teeny-weeny little head under all that! It was like finding an egg in a bearskin rug.

I have one client that I pray never needs to shave her head, because her head is round enough, but so bumpy and bony, it would look like her head was molded out of clay by monkeys.

Occasionaly, you come across divots and troughs in people's heads, weird little dips and dents that are quite alien. Sometimes they are because of surgery, but mostly, their just because nature has a sense of humor.

I also had a client who's head was perfectly cubic. Like a robot. It was really easy to cut his hair, though, because all the surfaces were entirely flat. How he bought hats I'll never know.

Some heads are pointy, some are huge and some are really long from front to back. Luckily, nobody knows they have a weirdly shaped head until someone tells them. But I'll bet their mothers know.

Happy New Year!

2011-01-01T11:48:00.003-05:00

Normally, the Loudshoes house is a hotbed of tv watching and snoozing on New Year's Eve. But last Big Liver Girl threw a party for both New Year's and her husband's birthday, and we weren't about to miss that.
My overwhelming memories of New Year's Eves of my youth involved standing in a snow-bank in shoes inadequate for the weather, tired and cold and hungry and trying to get a taxi to get the hell home. I don't think the Mister and I have been out for New Years in about 20 years, so this was quite a departure for us.
It was a great party; Big Liver Girl and her family are terrific hosts. There was plenty of booze and wonderful company and fabulous food. (One thing she passed around, which was a big hit, was drinking glasses with bacon standing up in them, like bouquets of flowers. Brilliant. Although, the Mister said this morning that one thing he learned last night is that there is such a thing as having too much bacon. Who knew?)
I won't be making any New Year's resolutions, either, because what's the point? If I wanted to do something different in my life, I would have already done it instead of waiting until January 1st to do it.

This morning we woke up to rain, and plenty of it. Which meant that the knee-high snow that's been hanging around since the storm in early December is melting at a rollicking clip. We can actually see grass. And YAY! No water in the basement! (There is a LOT of water sitting around on the frozen ground at the moment, which means it has no where to go.) The only problem is, the forecast is calling for plummeting temperatures, so all that rain will freeze and we should be able to skate to work on Tuesday. The temperature is so mild right now there is actually steam coming off the snow banks. We have the weirdest weather ever.

This afternoon we are going out with my parents to the Mandarin for dinner, so we probably won't be hungry again until Tuesday, either. I could do much worse than to start off a new year in the company of my family and my delightful friends, with a full belly and a warm, snug house.

Happy New Year!

Christmas Redux

2010-12-27T20:13:00.007-05:00

Aaaannnnd, we're back. To normal, that is. We had a lovely Christmas, and I am very thankful to be able to spend some time with our families and loved ones. But I really love that I've been laid off from that part-time job I call Christmas.

I had Christmas Eve off work, as it was a Friday, my regular day off. I met the Mister and the staff for a few drinks when they were all done work, and then we went to my parents for dinner. My dad makes a big, beef stew for Christmas Eve dinner every year. It was actually a recipe he remembers his grandmother making, back in Ireland, and for some reason, it's been the traditional Christmas Eve dinner in my family for years. (In fact, we have no other traditional dinner for any other holiday of the year, not even Christmas Day. Go figure.)

Here is the Loudshoes house all snug and cosy on Christmas Eve:

Toby is the blotch in front of the Christmas tree. It he could have talked, he'd have been all "dude, whaaaat are you doing out there??? Can I come too? Wait, it's cold out. "

Christmas Day was delightful, as the kids are old enough to sleep in to a reasonable hour, but still get pretty excited about Christmas morning. I have to admit, I'm a bit sorry that the whole Santa thing is over for the girls, but man, does it ever make my life easier....the Mister and I used to have to tip-toe around putting everything out on Christmas Eve, desperately trying to keep quiet and not wake up the kids, one of whom was on super-duper-hyper-alert mode and attuned to anything vaguely Santa-related and might wake up at the slightest noise. Do you have any idea how LOUD a shopping bag can be at 1 in the morning?

Toby enjoys Christmas morning very much. He had no idea what's going on, but he highly approves. Cinnamon buns for breakfast and enough time for two cups of coffee make me pretty happy. And the weather was bright and cold, with no snow, so the travellers could get where they wanted to go.

My brother and his family came down from Toronto, which was really nice. The cousins, especially, don't get together very often. And the dinner was fabulous and my sister-in-law makes kick ass desserts.

My kids got a game for the Wii called "Just Dance", which involves you holding one of the remotes and copying the moves of the dancers on the screen. Thing 1 absolutley rocks at it, consistently smoking the rest of us....who knew she had such hiddent talents? Even she seemed surprised at herself. I, on the other hand, made my children and my niece and nephew almost herniate themselves with laughter, when I tried it. Apparently, I'm no Barishnikov. (I knew I wasn't light on my feet; I'm Mrs LOUDSHOES for Christ's sake.)

Yesterday was Day Three of "Christmas Extravaganza 2010". We went to my in-laws for the day, about 40 minutes away. The kids opened yet more presents, and we ate yet more food and then lay in a food coma for a while before heading back home. As the kids get older, there are a lot less presents, which is a very good thing. Having two girls meant that there was a tsunami of pink, plastic things into our house every Christmas which threatened to bury us alive. The girls get a lot more clothes and CDs than toys now, which is great.

But the day I'm really excited about comes next week. In our city, you can put out four containers of garbage, and unlimited recycling. This usually presents no problem for us, unless of course, we miss a garbage day, and then we're under the gun. But the first garbage day after Christmas has NO limit, and we can put out as many bags as we want. Let me tell you, I love that day. I'm cleaning out furnace rooms, freezer rooms, garages and closets in anticipation. My family are like Mother Nature, they really hate a vacuum. Or an empty space. So I'm looking forward to pitching out a ton of stuff and getting it to the curb before they notice.

The Christmas Shopping Strategic Manoever

2010-12-20T10:52:00.006-05:00

I'm ALMOST done Christmas shopping. I will be ALMOST done Christmas shopping for the next four days, because I am never really DONE Christmas shopping until the malls close on the 24th and I can't buy any more stuff. (Even then, my friend Kelly has been known to stop by the 7-11 on her way home from Midnight Mass to pick up some peanuts and windshield wiper fluid for her dad.)

I've been very good this year, stayed on budget and I did not clock anyone, much as I felt like it. Over the years I've learned a few strategies to make it less likely that I end up on the news.

Shop Early. The Mister and I started a strict "cash only" policy when it comes to Christmas presents when we first got married, and it's been very nice to not have any credit card bills coming in in January. But this means we have to buy a few presents every week, starting around Halloween. Sometimes that means people get Jack o' Lantern socks or goblin-themed wrapping paper, but that's what they get.
Wear appropriate footwear. High heels and smooth soles are right out of the question for Christmas shopping; you need something that will let you bob and weave while moving at Mach I like a runningback at the Super Bowl. It helps if the floor is dry, too.
Wear thin layers. For some reason, they keep the malls at a temperature that is appropriate for growing bananas. This might be comfortable for the staff, but when I am wearing a winter coat, boots, a scarf and a turtleneck, I can create my own weather system just walking around. Wearing polar fleece and shedding layers like a demented stripper is the only way to make it work.
Avoid crowds. The older I get, the less tolerant I am of herds of lumbering wildebeest with shopping bags. I get to the mall when it opens, and, with any luck, am leaving within a half an hour. This sometimes means that I grab the first thing I see when I get in the door (hence the Jack o' Lantern socks) but anyone getting a present from me knows what they're getting into.
Shop on-line first. How much do I love the internet? So much I would marry it, if I could. Being able to go on-line to see if they have it before I venture out is worth the price of admission alone. And I know you are wondering why I just don't do ALL of my shopping on-line, and that is because I've tried to, and although things like books are just fine to get without seeing them, the time that Barb the Receptionist bought a Ralph Lauren t-shirt in Large that barely fit a then-8-year-old Thing 2 has made me wary.
Do not mutter under your breath. Sadly, I'm not as quiet as I think I am, and when I sigh and talk to myself, it only gets me in trouble. How was I supposed to know the lady in front of me has ears like a cat when I said "Oh, for God's sake, take your 10% off coupon and eat it instead of the chocolates, your ass certainly will be better off"?
Don't take a cart. I get that stores want to be sure that they don't run out of stuff, but man, do they ever pack themselves tight. There was a Hallmark store I went into recently that had so many candles and ornaments and calendars and crap you couldn't actually get into the store, you had invade it, like Normandy. A cart at Costco is the height of folly. Those carts are big enough to fit in an entire live sheep and a birthday cake and tires anyway, but at Christmas time, the place is so crowded with people and stuff that I imagine if you got a cart, you'd get stuck back in the paper towel department and wouldn't be found until after New Years.
Revise your plans. You thought you'd get a cashmere scarf for your brother, but they have acrylic ones on sale right by the door? Remember, people don't know what you planned on doing, they only know what they get.
Wear earplugs. Because if I hear "Saaaaaaanta Claus is comin' to town!" one more time....

Snow

2010-12-16T20:09:00.002-05:00

God I hope I stop whining about the weather soon.....even I can't stand myself.

Another freaking foot of snow yesterday. But today, oh glory be: sunshine. And nothing falling out of the sky.
I read in the paper today that last year we got 108 cm. of snow for the entire winter. As of yesterday at 7 a.m., we'd had 122 cm. In ten days. Of December.

The good news is, I'm getting rockin' fab triceps from shovelling snow and flinging it overtop of mounds that are taller than me.

Mother Nature, You Win.

2010-12-14T20:52:00.006-05:00

Okay, Mother Nature, I get it: you are a bad-ass.

It's been a week of brutal winter weather, and winter hasn't even officially started yet.

Last week, we got 100 cm of snow. That's three feet. Three feet of snow is a LOT of snow, especially when you have to shovel it. Then it got mild, and then it got cold, which means not only does it feel like -26°C out, it's really freaking slippery, too.

Here is a shot of our street this morning, at about 7 a.m.

Here is the Loudshoes house, all enveloped in snow, snug and warm. It was a beautiful sunrise, even if it was cold enough to rearrange the anatomy of a brass monkey. Our front porch has disappeared entirely, and those lumps on the right are a cement flower box and chair. Hard to tell, I know.

This was last night, outside the front door. I wish these pictures could convey how unbelievebly quiet it all is.

Today we got a few more inches of snow, and I am seriously considering hibernation.

Mother Nature wins.

Amazing Race 17, Episode 11

2010-12-13T11:44:00.003-05:00

Yay Nat and Kat! Good on 'em....they raced well and consistently.... It was a satisfying, if kind of boring, finale. Try as they might, the producers couldn't muster much suspense, since Nat and Kat left the studio before Brooke and Claire even got there.

I vaguely got the Sancho Panza reference, and would have guessed "Quixote", but it took me a while....I kept thinking of Pancho Villa, who was a Mexican revolutionary general, which would have taken me God knows where in LA instead of to that studio.
I'm not going to rag on Thomas for not knowing that answer; adrenaline and Killer Fatigue will mess with your head something awful.

Poor Thomas and Jill, I did feel for them, she was palpably disappointed at the Amazing Bathmat Stage. I would be too, if after all that I lost because of a misguided cabbie. I do think that cab driver was messing with them....."I have GPS!" What rock has he been living under that he'd never heard of the Internet? My dad, who is the most neanderthal of techno-peasants, uses Google.

The Powers That Be probably thought that last memory task would provide a bit more spice to that episode than it did, and it likely would have, had there been more than one team there at a time. Can you imagine Nick or Chad doing that? Good times.

I'm not especially afraid of heights, but that bungee jump would have freaked me right out. When Kat was waiting for Nat, and just hanging there for what seemed like forever? I would have entertained the idea of a small, personal nervous breakdown. And I would have screamed just as long and as loud as Brooke and Claire, too. Good on Nat for sucking it up and doing it. Again, I think the producers were counting on a little more drama there, and no one delivered.

Nice to see Bob Eubanks is still getting work. I liked when Brooke and Claire squealed "You're out biggest idol!" and he replied "Good, you're mine too!!"

I, for one, appreciate hugely that this was not an entire season of "Diabetics Can Do Anything!" It was mentioned a couple of times, and that was it, which was great. I pretty much assume that little people, deaf people, diabetics, one-legged people, elves, Wiccans, people with webbed toes, people who bark like Labrador Retrievers and lesbian Eskimos can do anything they put their minds to. Just race, dammit. When a quadriplegic wins this thing, then I'll be impressed.

Just to tell you, Season 18 starts on February 20th! Can't wait!

Snow Day 2.0

2010-12-07T13:03:00.004-05:00

We're buried. We had 90 cm of snow between Sunday night and this morning, (that's almost three feet) and it's still coming down. And the forecast is for more. I'm afraid we're not going to be able to leave the house until March.

The Mister and I struck out for work this morning; mostly so that we could tell everyone else to stay put. The drive in wasn't too bad, but the parking lots were a disaster and it wasn't like anyone would be walking in. You should have seen the two of us trying to get up the stairs at the salon; we were like Sherpas.
I did get a few phone calls while I was in there, mostly people making sure we knew they weren't going to come for their appointments. But I did get one woman who was very disappointed not to be able to get her hair done, as she had a party tonight she wanted to look special for. (I gently suggested to her that the party probably was cancelled.) and another woman who called, very excited to find someone at the shop, because she'd just been told she didn't have to go to work and she thought she'd come and get her hair done. I had to disappoint her, because the woman she wanted to do her hair couldn't get into work, either and OH MY GOD WOMAN, HAVE YOU LOOKED OUTSIDE??? ARE YOU SMOKING CRACK??? THERE'S A FREAKING BLIZZARD OUTSIDE!! STAY HOME!!! and there's nowhere to park, even if you can get downtown.

The kids got another day off of school, and there's a good chance they won't be going tomorrow.

Here is the view from my breezeway, down the street. It's hard to tell because of the lighting, but that snow is almost perfectly up to the seat of the chair on the right. That chair is up on the edge of the porch.
Here are my neighbour's cars. Really. Those are cars.

Here is the bench in the back yard last Friday.

Here is the bench in the backyard this morning. It's that lump on the right. On the left? The birdbath. It has a perfect tophat of snow on it.

I was smart enough to do the grocery shopping on Saturday evening, so we've plenty of food in the house, everyone is safe and home and there's lots to entertain us. Now, I really hope the power stays on.

Snow Day!

2010-12-06T12:54:00.003-05:00

Are there any more beautiful words in the English language than "snow day"?
I woke up this morning at around 6, took one look out the front window and figured no one was going anywhere today. Sure enough, at about 6:45 Thing 1 got a flurry of texts from all corners, saying it was official, all the schools were closed. And she promptly went back to bed. As did I.
I think there are few more delicious feelings in the entire spectrum of human emotions than crawling back under those warm covers, knowing you are completely, entirely, off the hook for the day. There's even a word for it: "coverlicious".

Living in the lee of Lake Huron, we get plenty of "lake-effect" snow, streamers that pick up plenty of moisture when they move over the relatively warm waters of the lake, and then dump it once they hit land. The funny thing is, while we got two feet of snow today, the Mister's cousin, who lives a half an hour south of us, hardly got any snow at all....they can still see the grass.

The Mister went out and did the driveway first thing this morning. I don't think it was so much a desire to get the car out; nobody is going anywhere today, but rather that we had a fairly mild winter last year and he hardly got to use his new toy at all.
Here he is at the very start...you can see how high the snow is, and the almost buried garbage cans, which I doubt will be picked up today.

Here is the birdbath in the backyard.

We went for a walk around the neighbourhood before lunchtime. This is the creek near our house. Note the foot-tall piles of snow in the middle of the creek...those are rocks, which barely peek out from the water.

Here is my family, on the footbridge that Thing 1 has to use to get to school every day. If it snows much more, that railing will be at knee level.

Even better, is that this is a Monday, and the Mister and I usually have Mondays off because we work Saturdays. So that means I get a full, unapologetic day of lounging around in my pajamas drinking hot chocolate and we're not losing any money. It's a win-win situation.

Amazing Race 17, Episode 11

2010-12-06T09:40:00.003-05:00

That ending was emminently satisfying....it wasn't at all tense, and that nutsack Nick is off my screen for good. Sorry I had to see Vicky go.

Did you notice in that last confessional that Nick was all "we know what our flaws are and we have to work on them"? Actually, Nick, the big flaw in that relationship is you. She has nothing to answer for except that she's still dragging your sorry ass all over the place. She did say "it can only get better", which is a not a rousing endorsement of any relationship, if you ask me.

I can only surmise that Nick and Vicky were a gazillion hours later than everyone else. It was daylight when the other teams were checking in, and I figure the Ickys didn't do the white water rafting because it was dangerously dark. I did like that they made them clean that tank, like they said "you are hopelessly behind everyone else, and we didn't make you do that last Speedbump, but that tank isn't going to clean itself, so get to it and do something useful before we eliminate you altogether."

That white-water rafting looked like F-U-N fun! I really liked the wacky, Korean Music of Hilarity that went with that segment.

Those were the cleanest subway stations I have ever seen in my life. Did you see the floor at the one they took from the Army base? It was shiny.

Thomas would be so much more interesting if he didn't take himself so seriously.

Brooke one of those people who gets MORE hyper the MORE tired she gets. I think she would be an incredible team mate for something like this, but in real life I would only be able to take her in single servings.

Thing 1 and I would have rocked that ice skating challenge. (So would Vicky. Just sayin. Nick would have sucked, said it was stupid and then blamed her.) Because, by law, every Canadian knows how to skate! (One time the Mister and I found ourselves on a frozen pond in a ski village in Colorado spontaneously teaching a bunch of Texans how to skate. It's not a very natural motion, and people who don't know how to skate did exactly what Thomas did, which is to try to run on skates. It doesn't work, but it gives the rest of us a good laugh.) Claire did surprisingly well for someone who can't skate, because those l-o-o-o-o-ng blades are a bit of a challenge.

Best Line of the Night: "I need to toilet!"

Also, I like Snarky Jill very much! When Thomas didn't want to ask someone for directions because they were "too old", she replied "how about that guy? Is he in your age range?"

Next week....Heights!
And just to tell you? My money is on Nat and Kat.

Until the finale!

Kibbles and Bits

2010-12-03T13:35:00.005-05:00

And so it begins....

First day of real snow here. I was out in it this morning....funny how people have to learn to drive all over again when it snows for the first time.

I slept in yesterday morning, a rarity for me. Usually I wake up at around 6:45 every morning, without an alarm clock. (I do have a 12-pound, furry, orange alarm clock, but he can only be counted on to wake me up every day, there's no guarantee it's going to be at the appropriate time.) I usually give myself plenty of time in the mornings, I hate being rushed, so even though I had slept a half hour longer than usual, I was able to get myself out the door on time without too much trauma. The irony? I was dreaming about sleeping in.

We got a new terminal at the salon for credit card purchases. Every now and again the credit card machine has a small nervous breakdown and will only calculate tips of 150% or refuses to recognize PINs that start with 4. Our receptionist, Barb, got a technician out to replace ours, and since he seemed to have only been trained for the job that morning, and by drunken monkeys, he was clueless as to how to configure the machine to suit our needs. The receptionist sent him on his way and asked me to look up the supplier's number on the net when I got home. I did so, and handed her the number the next morning. While I was shampooing my first client's hair, Barb came back to me with a very strange look on her face asking "where the hell did I get that number???" It turns out she had called it and a very breathy, female voice had answered, with a "Hi, baby, so glad you called.....you got some sugar for me?". Not exactly what one expected from a credit card processing company. It seems I inadvertently transferred two numbers when I wrote it down. Oops.

Favorite Books of 2010

2010-11-30T20:07:00.004-05:00

Just in case you need some gift ideas for the coming year, here's my list of "Favorite Books of 2010". Enjoy!

The Wave by Susan Casey (Non-fiction) An enthralling account of gigantic ocean waves, how they form, where they are, and the scientists who study them. If that sounds dry, it really is not, partly because Casey follows a bunch of big-wave surfers, the best in the world, as they ride 100-foot waves all over the world. (Go to YouTube and type in "surfing big waves" to see what's involved.) One of the most interesting books I read this year.
Fall of Giants by Ken Follett (Fiction) Another home run by the guy who wrote "Pillars of the Earth". A lovely, big, fat, historical novel about several families in the years before and during WW I. The first in a trilogy, so this one's a bit of a commitment.
Every Last One by Anna Quindlen (Fiction) Heartbreaking and poignant, this novel about a family, a terrible tragedy and the aftermath has stayed with me for months.
Black Out by Connie Willis (Fiction) I like the way Connie Willis deals with time-travel; it's a lot less about the science and a LOT more about the history. This story, about historians travelling from 21st century Oxford to London during the Blitz was hugely entertaining. My only beef with it was that it's one of two books, which was not made clear when I started the first one.....that last page was a big disappointment. Fortunately, the sequel, "All Clear" has been published recently.
Little Bee by Chris Cleeve (Fiction) A sweet, sad novel told by an young African refugee and the English family who's lives she enters. This story made me realize that I live in a stable, secure and utterly safe place that many in the rest of the world can only dream of.
The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie by Alan Bradley (Fiction) A quirky and delightful 11-year-old narrator made this murder-mystery a lot of fun to read. The sequel, "The Weed That Strings the Hangman's Bag" was equally gratifying.
Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhonda Janzen. (Non-fiction) When her husband leaves her for a guy named Bob on Gay.com, and she's in a debilitating car accident, the author returned to her parents home, and the Mennonite community she'd left years before. Funny and touching, this story of coming home and putting the pieces of your life back together was wonderful.
A Traitor to Memory by Elizabeth George (Fiction) A story of a musical-prodigy, his family and a mystery that has haunted his family for years. A terrifically entertaining book.
Coal; A Human History by Barbara Freese (Non-Fiction) A social history of the fuel. Way more interesting than you'd think.
Wide Awake by Patricia Morrisroe. Thankfully, I have no problem sleeping, but reading this book made me realize that lots of people do. Patricia Morrisroe talks about her own insomnia and the multitude of solutions she and thousands have tried, all in the name of getting some sleep. Ironically, I stayed up late reading this.

Amazing Race 17, Episode 10

2010-11-29T07:51:00.003-05:00

That was, perhaps, the most disappointing Non-Elimination Leg since Flo and Zack got a pass in Season 3. I think they should let Vicky run the rest of the Race (maybe with Gary or one of the first guys out) and let Nick float around that harbour in Hong Kong for the rest of the time. It did sound as though Phil was unhappy about it, too.

Yikes, but that is a toxic relationship....when Vicky said at the beginning that she's getting better at "calming Nick down", Thing 1 and I looked at each other with big eyes and our mouths in little "o"s. Vicky, honey, the only one responsible for Nick's demenor is Nick. Just to tell you. It's bad enough he berates you, belittles you and provides no emotional support whatsoever, he lay down and quit while complaining he'd had nothing to eat all day while you did that roadblock and puked because of it. That's not a partner, that's ballast.

I think the only positive thing Nick has done on this whole race is to make Thomas look good enough in comparison that I could handle him and Jill winning this whole thing without crying.

Even though Brooke is as hyper and frenzied as a sugar-jacked 3 year-old, I just love her. And that Claire is one tough cookie....she really has had the worst Roadblocks. (Can you imagine if Nick had gotten that watermelon to the face? He'd still be whining about it.) But, why, for the love of God, did she think that Roadblock had anything to do with karaoke??? The clue said "peckish" !! It's in a restaurant!! Other people were eating!! And one of the Basic Rules of the Race is "Never accept a food challenge in Asia".

I freaking LOVED those other diners in the restaurant! I imagine they were rounded up and made to sit there all day, but man, they were hilarious when someone got the challenge right!

The Amazing Editors yet again get kudos from me...when Vicky said "I hate Chinese food", they cut right to the chef guy looking very despondent and sad, like he was personally hurt by her remark. I also liked the Amazing Cameramen getting shots of the pertinent signs during the Ding Ding challenge, and Jill and Thomas arguing about what they were supposed to be seeing.

What will happen to those parakeets? Why did they need to be delivered? And why did they need to be entertained and kept happy? I'm thinking the worst here, people.

I noticed that Jill said at the start that they hadn't seen any racers that day or the day before, and I've read that the "eat/sleep/mingle" portion of the pitstop has been eliminated. You hardly hear any racers even mention other teams, which has made for a nice dynamic this time around. I've really liked that the teams don't focus on each other, and just do the race. It would also explain why Nat has not sereptitiously poisoned Nick with a syringe of insulin in his sleep.

Until next week!
P.S. Apparently, they're starting filming of another season this week, with teams from seasons 11-17. I hope there are cowboys.

Merry Christmas to Me!

2010-11-24T19:22:00.003-05:00

The Mister and I stopped buying Christmas presents to each other years ago, we just go out and take the money we would have spent on each other and spend it on ourselves and call it even. It works out fabulously. He buys things I never ever knew he wanted, I buy things he didn't know existed.

After a ridiculous amount of thought and hours of research, I decided to buy myself a little e-reader, a Kobo. I'm a big reader, I read a novel a week on average, and anything related to books calls to me like a siren. And this little thing is about the biggest leap in technology in reading in the last 700 years. It's not an audio book, it's not something you listen to, it looks like a thin, little book with a screen, where you read like a book and try not to drop it in the bath.

I won't be abandoning physical books any time in the near future, they work just fine as they are. But when I was reading Ken Follett's latest book, which was wonderful and totally enthralling, it was HUGE. I had to prop it up with pillows when I wanted to read in bed. Seriously, it is a LOT of book. And it occurred to me that it might be nice to only have to carry around 220 grams of book, rather than the 12 pounds that thing weighed.

And when I travel, I take a lot of books. Once I found myself on a trans-Atlantic flight with only one book and I almost finished it on the flight....I was doling out those pages like methadone to an addict, I tell you. It was probably the most frightened I've ever been flying. So now I take at least 2 books, maybe three, on any flight. Then there are a few more books in my luggage. I take no chances. So when I go to Florida in March I can now bring my little Kobo, which has about 110 books on it, and nothing else. (Who am I kidding?? I'll still bring another book or two, in case the battery runs out or Armageddon happens.)

I've spent a happy few evenings rummaging through websites and finding books to download. I've even figured out how to borrow from the local library and get them on my little gadget.
So far, the only problem is, I've spent so much time sorting the thing out, I haven't had any time to read.

Amazing Race 17, Episode 10

2010-11-22T08:57:00.002-05:00

That was okay, I'd had enough of Chad and Stephanie anyway. I was worried Brooke and Claire would be out, so the outcome is fine by me.

It's that point in the game where I'm watching the opening credits and seeing teams that make me ask Thing 1 "who the hell is that?".

I much prefer a W-Turn to a single U-Turn; it means that one team does not have a target stamped on their foreheads, and there's still some suspense at the Amazing Bathmat. And it was very nice to see people using the U-Turn as a strategy in the game, rather than a weapon of personal malevolence.

Apparently, Chad did not go to Notre Dame, because he does not know the difference between a PhD and an MD. I'm sure they would have told him that there. And remember, Chad, YOU were planning on U-Turning those two if you had the chance, too.
Chad did impress me a bit at the Pitstop with his reaction to being U-Turned; I expected him to whine about it not being fair, and then fling himself down on the Amazing Bathmat and beat his tiny fists on the Bangladeshi ground. At least he acknowledged it was part of the game.

Can we talk about Nat and Kat during the Talking Head confessionals? Because the blonde one looked, as my mother would say, like she had been dragged through a hedge backwards. It certainly looked like it was hot and muggy and seriously sweat-producing there, but man, she looked rough. I wanted to have a shower and a good night's sleep just looking at her.

Was that band at the Pitstop all playing the same tune?

Why did Jill and Thomas run to the Amazing Bathmat? They had a seven hour lead ahead of any other team, why not stroll for once?

That was the first time I've seen Brooke and Claire get even the tiniest bit snarky with each other there, and it was very short lived. I tell you, that Brooke is way tougher than she looks. "I'm going to go through this like a spider monkey!" was one of my favorite lines of the night. Also, when Stephanie bent over to shout "Shut the hell up!" right into Chad's ear during the brick task...I liked that one a lot, too.

Next week? Nick is officially dead to me. Seriously, he's just mean and stupid. Saying things in the heat of the moment out of frustration is one thing, but saying things to your partner designed to be hurtful and belittling is completely another. Do you think Nick and Thomas could be out and we could get Jill and Vicky to run the rest of this together?

Until next week!

Amazing Race 17, Episode 9

2010-11-15T09:00:00.002-05:00

I realized about half way through this episode that there wasn't anyone I really wanted to see out. As much as I dislike Chad, I don't mind Stephanie, and I couldn't wish for their elimination on their engagement day. Man, sleeping in for TWO hours and still coming in first??? You've used up all your karma for this life-time, I think.

On a side note, even if I was going to say "yes", I'd hate to be proposed to in a situation that dictates that I'd pretty much have to. I know those two have already bought a house together, and likely have already decided to be buttheads together for life, but I'd still want to preserve the idea that I had a choice. The status change to "engaged" was cute, though.
( A client once told me about her sister who was dating a guy for a few months, and he seemed to think things were more serious than she did, because he got down on one knee and pulled out a ring at his family's Christmas dinner. She was mortified, and had to say "can we talk about this later" and left. I certainly would never marry anyone who knew me so little as to get between me and my dessert. )

I'm so sorry to see Gary and Mallory leave; I just loved them. But holy shit, NINE hours?? I think you could see Oman in it's entirety in nine hours. (BTW, are there any women in Oman? Other than the few we saw at their homes in the water-delivery task, I don't think I saw any the whole episode.)

Yay! Jill found her voice! Telling Thomas to shut it when he was yammering about directions was very sweet. "Am I from here??" I wish she did more of it. Thomas seems to have had his sense of humor surgically removed at Notre Dame.

Well, old "Ghana Nick" seems to be at the party for the duration. If my partner ever told me to "shut up", under any circumstances, let alone on television, I'd sit down and pull out my book and not get up until Phil came to get us.

Thank you, Amazing Editors, for the juxtaposition of Nick saying "they're probably laughing their heads off at us right now" and then cutting to shot of Brooke and Claire cackling like Evil Overlords.

Speaking of Vicky, OF COURSE nothing frightens her! I'll bet she rappels 300 feet down the face of cliffs every day before her first coffee! And I really like the way she dealt with the clue-eating goat. I would happily run the race with you any time, Vicky, and don't worry, I will cheerfully be in charge of taking care of bugs.

I wonder if the producers thought that the teams would be closer together, because that market would have probably been more of a challenge when it was crowded and everything was open. By the time Nat and Kat and Mallory and Gary were finding Ali Baba, he seemed to be the only stall open, which made it very easy to find. It's a good thing they did not have smoke detectors in his little shop, because they'd be going off all night in that little shop.

I would very much like for one of the all-female teams to win, not because I particularly think two women should win this for once, but because I don't want any of the douchy boyfriends to win it.

Until next week!

Remembering

2010-11-10T18:02:00.004-05:00

Tomorrow is November 11th, Remembrance Day. Most of us will never have to fight in a war, or see someone we love do it either, and I think it's good that we have to take a few minutes to remember those people who did.....what a miserable, awful, incredibly difficult thing it must have been. I'm very thankful that their service means that I will probably never have to.

There is always a Remembrance Day ceremony at school, no matter what kind of school you go to. I'm sure they have not changed much, they were always solemn and serious types of affairs, the urge to giggle didn't seem quite as overwhelming as at Mass. It was a bit bewilderingly sad and heavy to a bunch of kids; it was years before I figured out that we were not talking about a war that we were currently fighting, it was to remember ones we were all done with. They always handed out poppies for us to wear, which was a nice gesture, but a totally terrible idea....if you wanted 300 kids to sit quietly and reflect on the dignity of the situation, I suggest that you do NOT give them pins with which to stab each other, or little red felt flowers with which to fashion fake, clown lips.

We sang a few hymns, someone said a speech, a lucky couple of kids got to put the wreath on the cross (lucky because they got to move around when everyone else had to sit still) and the tallest girl in our class always, without fail, fainted. Every. Single. Year. And then we recited the poem "In Flanders Fields", which, I'm pretty sure, has to be memorized by every school child in Canada by law.

When Thing 1 was in Grade 1, I asked her about the Remembrance Day ceremony, and she told me it was "to remember the people who fought and died on the farm." Say what? The farm? "Yes" she said very seriously, "the people who fought and died on the farm", like I was both a moron and hard-of-hearing. It turns out she thought it had to to with farms because of the first line "In Flanders Field, the poppies grow..." I guess it makes as much sense as anything else when you're 6.

My favorite story about a Remembrance Day ceremony was told to me by one of my co-workers. She had 5 kids in her family, and as you can imagine, getting everyone out the door in the mornings was a bit of a challenge for her mother. My friend was in Grade 6, her older sister in Grade 8, and her two younger brothers in Grades 4 and 1. One Remembrance Day, which if you recall, is only 11 days after Halloween, her mother was getting everyone ready for school when the youngest one announced that he had to "dress up" for school today. Now, he was the kind of kid who wore his Halloween costume for a couple of weeks before Halloween, slept in it, and wore it afterwards until it disintegrated entirely. His mother, who had no idea what day it was, said "okay, go put on your costume then", and sent him off. The Grade 1's came into the gym last, when everyone else was already settled, and there was my friend's brother, marching into the gym for the Remembrance Day ceremony, dressed as Batman.
She said she nearly died, partly from embarrassment, but mostly because she wasn't allowed to laugh at a Remembrance Day ceremony. She says she and her sister still bring that up to her mother, who's only response is "but I was so tired".

Happy Rememberance Day.

Amazing Race 17, Episode 8

2010-11-08T08:51:00.003-05:00

That was sweet....After all the pissing and moaning Kevin did about how lame his father was, I loved that the two of them were out because of Kevin's mistake. (Although, to be perfectly fair, Michael could have read that clue, too.) Now, even though Kevin got on my last nerve whining about his dad, and Michael seems like a nice guy, he's not the one I'd take on the race with me; this was not a "two person team", this was a "one person team with luggage".

I was wondering why Nick and Vicky didn't have a Speedbump this leg, because they came last in the Non-Elim last week. But then I read on the "interwebs" (which is what my mother calls the internet) that there was a judging error in the music task last week (with the pianos) and they lost a ton of time because of that. They didn't make them do the Speedbump because of it.

Nick, Nick, Nick....you seemed to have learned your lesson from your meltdown in Ghana, but then you reverted right back to your old dickwaddy self in St. Petersburg. For someone who thinks that they can drive to the Arctic Circle from west Africa, you've got some nerve calling anyone else a "dumbass", let alone your rock-star girlfriend who has proven to be completely capable of handing you your ass several times on this race, but has refrained from doing so.

I did like his story about his grandmother's "Clown Room".... that explains a LOT about old Nick, right there.

Speaking of Clowns, I'm so sorry the Clowns from season 4 were not there for the plate spinning task, because they'd have finished that in about 12 seconds flat. While juggling bowling pins.

Hard to believe Thomas did not learn to spin plates or play Russian folk songs on an accordion while wearing an enormous, red clown nose at Notre Dame. I loved that Jill seemed to be getting the hang of the accordion fairly quickly, but they had to bail because of him.

Chad continues to charm, no? Too bad he was busy laughing at his girlfriend missing the figurine to read the clue properly and take a cab to the church. What a tool.

When I saw Phil collapsing like a sack of potatoes at the Russian bowling task, I was so hoping that the other team mate would have to stand on that little platform during the event. Then Stephanie could have nailed Chad in the nuts a couple of times while appearing to try to do it properly.

Russian taxi drivers are harsh, man, demanding the full fare and not letting you off because you "really have to be somewhere." This isn't the first time this has happened, either....remember the stuntman brothers a couple of seasons ago? They tried to pay their cabbie in watches and compasses, and that bastard held out for cash too. (By the way, I calculated those taxi fares at around $325 US. What the hell?? Did Michael and Kevin call that taxi two days before??)

Love Brooke and Claire.....she's such and enthusiastic spazz, and Claire reads the clues. Kevin and Michael could learn a lot from those two.

Until next week!

Rules of the House

2010-11-05T13:06:00.002-04:00

We are nothing, here at the Loudshoes house, if not opinionated. In fact, our family motto should be "I think, therefore I'm right". No where are the opinions more violently defended than when it comes to food. Everyone has their rules, and we think the others are godlessly wrong.

1. I think that ketchup belongs on French fries and burgers, nothing else. It is such a sweet, all-dominating flavour that I can't taste anything else when there is even the teeniest bit of ketchup on it. The Mister puts ketchup on eggs, macaroni and cheese, french toast and grilled cheese, and eternally tries to get me to do the same, because, in his words, I am "missing out". On something gross, apparently.

2. Eggs must be served with a starch, preferably a toasted one. Scrambled eggs sitting lonely and neglected by themselves are sad enough, but they get cold faster, too. A poached egg with hot buttered toast, or scrambled eggs with fried potatoes is the way God intended them to be served.

3. The more colours, the better. I find it almost impossible to eat a grilled cheese sandwich for lunch if I'm going to have an orange right after it. And don't tell me it would be all better if I had ketchup with the sandwich, because we are not having that discussion. Now, if there were pickles with the sandwich, I might be able to manage it. Grapes instead would make it all good.

4. All 4 food groups with a meal, except with breakfast. I don't know why breakfast gets a pass, but there it is. But lunch and dinner should have fruit and/or veggies, a protein, some sort of dairy and a starch. Sometimes you can combine things, like yogurt covers two categories, but lets not fool ourselves and think that strawberry yogurt will do 3.

5. No margarine. Ever. I can taste that stuff before it's even in my mouth. And it's nasty. Also, no liver, blue cheese or candied fruit in my kitchen.

6. The Mister demands gravy with mashed potatoes, or at least some sort of saucy thing to stand in for gravy. If gravy is absent, then corn must be served. If you have neither, then you have no business serving mashed potatoes.

7. For Thing 1 and Thing 2, food must not touch each other on the plate. In fact, dinner is much easier if I just give them each three little plates, rather than one big one.

8. Things must be at the right temperature, cold things cold, hot things hot. The idea of cold pizza or warm milk makes me gag.

9. Milk and water are the only acceptable beverages with meals, for kids. (The grown ups are allowed wine, but we rarely do at home.) Too many eating out expericences where they drank a vat of pop before their meals came, and they were too full to eat. And wired beyond belief, too.

10. Brown sugar is the only acceptable sugar for oatmeal. (Thing 2 shovels it on in truly dire proportions. )

Amazing Race 17, Episode 6

2010-11-01T08:16:00.005-04:00

Man, am I enjoying this season! Diabolical tasks and beautiful scenery and a very low quotient for team-induced drama. This is how it should be.

I realized as Nick and Vicky switched Detours for the second time that they were out. And I also realized how much I didn't want them to be out. They are not the brightest bulbs on the chandelier, but they have an endearing self-deprecation that makes me like them very much. Also, she has rocked so many physical tasks while having asthma, and he obviously took the whole Roadblock "drag" mix-up with such good humour that I was really glad they have another chance.

Oh, Anonymous Russian Babushkas, how I love you all. Those women were the best thing about the night, I tell you. I'm so glad their comments were captioned..."the skinny ones work the hardest". I think they need their own show.

Those Detours were brutal. About half way through Phil describing the piano task, Thing 1 and I turned to each other and said "nope", and then he described the film task and we said "okay, pianos it is!". But why, why did they not do what Nick and Vicky finally do in the end??? Listening to all three pieces and trying to find them simultaneously would be impossible, there's no way you'd be able to distinguish one from the other that way.
Do you think those pianists gave a collective groan when they found out Nick and Vicky were on their way back?
I enjoyed Mr. Music Dictator: "NYET!". At least he started to look a bit sad when he had to say it for the 15th time.

Chad is so That Guy. You know, That Guy who kind of annoys you all the time, and then you feel sort of regret being too hard on him and thinking maybe he's not so bad after all, and then he opens his mouth and pisses you right off all over again, and you know you were right after all. That Guy.
I really liked the part where he said that listening to his girlfriend is a new and difficult experience for him, like bungee jumping or roping steers. That should make for an interesting marriage.

Kevin, sometimes your dad is right. Maybe you should listen to him sometimes, instead of treating him like luggage.

Favorite Line of the Night: "Here's your poop and potatoes!"

Thomas is very tiresome. When Jill asked (kind of excitedly) "have you ever been on a train like this before?" , he replied "Of course I have", like everyone who's anyone has travelled on a sleeper car and she's just too inexperienced and uncool to know that. Perhaps they held classes at Notre Dame in sleeper cars.
I've been on trains in a couple of countries and never been on a sleeper car. And I went to university, so take that Snotty McSmugpants.

I like Brooke so much...her running away from that barking dog twice had me in stitches.
When the kids were small, they used to narrate their lives like Brooke does, just constantly verbally detailing their actions and inner dialogue. And, like Brooke, it was cute at first, but incredibly wearing on everyone within earshot in a very short time. Thankfully, my kids grew out of it, but she hasn't.

So many good things in this episode. I loved when Kat mugged at the camera while she passed Mallory in the background desperately trying to get the locals to direct her where to go. When Stephanie mimicked Mallory going up into the poo pile to get the shovel, only to have Mallory say exactly the same "oh my God" in exactly the same way. Nick's face when he discovered exactly what kind of "drag" race he'd be in, and the fact that he kept his do-rag on under his babushka scarf. Mallory getting help over the fence from the locals, only to find out they wanted to have a drink with her. Good times.

I love this show.
Until next week!

nat walking past mallory asking for directions

This Is Halloween

2010-10-31T10:19:00.004-04:00

Today is Halloween, and the festivities are just beginning. I rather like Halloween; it's not too much work and there is plenty of chocolate and Starburst Fruit Chews for payoff.

Thing 1 has not gone out trick-or-treating for the past few years, feeling she had gotten too old for it. But they both saw "Wayne's World" back in the summer and got the brilliant idea of dressing up as the main characters, so Thing 1 agreed to be the Garth to Thing 2's Wayne. It's Thing 2's last kick at the can, it's nice of Thing 1 to go along with her.

I have a fairly liberal policy when it comes to Trick-or-Treaters here: If you have a costume, you can have some candy, however lame. I figure if kids come dressed up, they get something, no matter how old you are. (Even if 11 year olds come without a costume, I don't mind giving them a Kit Kat bar....you never know what some kids are dealing with at home.) It's sometimes hard to tell anyway; one year a gang of 6 foot 4 guys came to the door, and I almost asked them if their Employment Insurance didn't cover candy, until I realized that they were all in Thing 1's Grade 8 class, and were only 12 and 13 year olds.
Besides, we have "A List" candy and "B List" candy; Cute little 5 year olds dressed up as caterpillars and Ninjas get the "A List" candy, teenagers with a top had or a football helmet get the "B List" stuff.

One year a fairly distinctive van pulled up in front of our house and a whole load of teenagers spilled out of it. I was a little put out; if you can drive I think you're probably old enough to buy your own candy, but what the hell, they can have the "B List" candy. When they came to the door I was amazed; their costumes were unbelievable. One girl was dressed as a fairy, and she must have spent hours sewing on sequins and glittery bits. One of the guys was dressed as a matador, complete with a red cape. They had put some real effort into those costumes; they definitely got the "A list" candy.
A little while later, I saw the van leave, only to pull up again a few minutes later in front of our house. Nobody got out for a long time, and eventually I saw a window open and some smoke come out. I'm pretty sure they weren't smoking cigarettes in there, because when they came up our front walk again I heard one of them say "hey man, I think we've been here already! I remember that pumpkin, that pumpkin freaked me right out before!". They had just gone around the block without realizing it, probably because of the stuff they were smoking. They left, but I think I would have given them some "B List" candy anyway, just because they amused me.

It's supposed to be cold and rainy tonight, so I don't suppose we will get many kids, maybe 25 or so. Which is fine by me; for the first time in 13 years I can let the girls go out on their own. I will hang out here and eat the "A List" candy.

Cautionary Tale

2010-10-29T14:16:00.003-04:00

I usually do the grocery shopping on Mondays.....no crowds + day off = Happy Mrs. Loudshoes. There are about 3 grocery stores that I frequent, depending on my mood, their specials and what I need to get.....No Frills is really cheap, but the staff is surly and testy, and there's no deli. Loblaws has everything I could ever need or want, but it's a bit more expensive and I have to dress up because I am bound to meet every single person I ever knew that I want to think well of me. Sobey's is in the middle, not too expensive, not too socially demanding, but they seem to change the entire layout of the store constantly, so that I end up going around and around the store about thirty times just to get paper towels and butter.

I went to Sobey's last week because they had pot roasts on sale and I was wearing running shoes.

I was texting Thing 1 at one point, because she had written something hilarious on my shopping list. As I was going along with my grocery cart, one of the young guys that works there jokingly said "you shouldn't text and drive", which made me laugh. As I did so, I rounded the corner to start up another aisle, and I managed to take out an entire end display of disposible aluminum trays, complete with lids. I mean, I caught that thing with the front end of my cart and absolutley clobbered it with an almight force that knocked it sideways and spewed disposible aluminum trays and their lids in a most spectacular fashion. The young guy doubled over laughing, but quickly recovered himself long enough to apologize and take in my reaction. I was too busy doubling over myself, and had trouble hearing him. He said he hoped I wasn't offended at him laughing, and I said I didn't see how he could help it; it was quite a breathtaking episode.
His boss happened by, to find the two of us picking up the stuff while wiping our eyes and occasionally bursting into guffaws. The kid said it was the best thing he'd seen all day.

Luckily, aluminum foil pans do not leave much of a mess, and we managed to clean it up quickly, but I'll tell you, those things can fly. There was one that must have been twenty feet away.

So not only should you not text and drive, you should probably not text and drive a grocery cart, either.

Amazing Race 17 Ep. 5

2010-10-25T07:47:00.002-04:00

I'd probably be more disappointed at the Volleyball girls' elimination if I remembered who they were. Other than a few snarky comments towards the other teams, I don't think they did one memorable thing the entire time. They did have very white teeth, though.

This season is delightfully free of inter-team drama, and I am enjoying that so much, I cannot tell you. It is so nice to not to see anyone snotting about another teams' throwing their sports bras off a balcony or laughing about their beauty pagent experience or cutting into lines at airports. Racing is plenty interesting enough, thanks, and it's a pleasure to actually see everyone doing it.

Still with the dissing your dad, Kev? Really? Can you let it go yet? We get it, your father is made out of egg shells and toothpicks, and you're terribly burdened by having to run this race with such a feeble old man. Except, he seems to be doing just fine, and I haven't heard him whine about you yet.

I'm not sure what was funnier, the Tattooed team's confusion over "Fast Forward Taken", or Nick's thinking they were hitting the Amazing Bathmat in second place. Did Vicky think that everyone could do the Fast Forward and skip all the tasks? Or did she think that there were more than one? Or that the team that had it might give it away? But that girl absolutely rocked those physical tasks, and with a smile on her face, too! And she has asthma. Nick sounded like a geriatric chain-smoker on that bike.
What on earth made him think they were in second place? That made Thing 1 and I look at each other with our mouths in little "o" shapes.

The conversation between the cars while driving around and around the roundabout made me laugh out loud. I would totally do that if I had any of those around here.

Nastiest Christmas tradition ever. And I thought fruitcake was disgusting. Note to self: Decline invitation to Christmas in Oslo.
Kudos to vegetarian of 20 years, she ate that mess without whining, which is way more than I think I could have done. And I actually eat meat. I had to laugh when she said "a glass of water is never a good sign". She's totally right on that one.
Did you hear Mallory's disappointment when they didn't go for the Fast Forward? "But I LOVE Christmas!" I wonder what she thought when she heard what it was.

Did you hear that Thomas went to Notre Dame? And his girlfriend did not? I KNOW!! That is such totally new and relevant information!! Everyone knows that college graduates are WAY, WAY smarter than hairdressers! I wonder which of them has a job.

Oh, Anonymous Stuttering Norwegian, you made my night. Not because I was laughing at your stutter, far from it, but because what are the chances of a desperate, frantic team needing directions happening on the ONE guy who would have to take his time? Especially if that team includes Chad, who I think is a douchebag.

One of the funniest things I've seen in a long time is that shot of Brooke walking up that hill with the two fish tails flapping away on her ass.
Actually, I've got to say, these two are made of tough stuff....a watermelon to the face and a gash over the eye and not one whine. And they make me laugh...."Why do you live all the way up here?"

Until next week!

To Each His Own.

2010-10-22T19:36:00.004-04:00

I was in the car the other day with my daughters, and we came up against a one-way street, which prevented me from turning off the street I was on and going in the direction I wanted. No problem, thinks I, I'll go down a block and do it there, which is what I did. For some reason, this enraged Thing 2 mightily, and she went on a verbal rampage dedicated to her hatred of one-way streets....."What good is a street where you can only drive one direction?? Why shouldn't we be able to drive down there if we want??? This makes NO SENSE!!". It was pretty intense, especially considering we still managed to get where we wanted to go without any trouble. Still, she had decided that this was a hill worth dying on, and was determined to make a big, noisy deal about it.
I realized that everyone something for which they have an incredibly strong opinion, out of all proportion to the issue.

How the toilet paper hangs. Some people think the toilet paper MUST hang from the top of the roll, while others are sure it must come from the bottom. I've heard people have wild screaming matches about this, sure that their way is the right and proper way and that anyone who thinks otherwise is "a drunken slob". Personally, I'm just happy if there IS toilet paper.
That the open end of the pillow cases face the middle of the bed. (Or the wall, in the case of a single bed.) I knew a girl who's mother practically wept with disappointment that her daughter and I could make a bed and not know this crucial detail....how were we ever to grow up to be responsible, tax-paying citizens without knowing (or caring!) about this life-altering task? Placing the open end of the pillow cases towards the outside of the bed was tantamount to selling our bodies and smoking crack. To this day, I have no idea what the hell she was talking about.
Using the phrase "you guys" when addressing a group where there is a woman present. I knew a woman who was incredibly offended when that phrase was used when she was there, because she was so obviously NOT a guy, and therefore the phrase was used to exclude her. And I've heard the same opinion from other women, as well, which baffles me. I get that the word "guys" does not mean exclusively those with a Y chromosome, and whoever is saying it probably wants me to pipe down with the rest of them.
How to fold towels. Apparently, life as we know it will come to a screeching halt and civilization will cease as we know it if you fold a towel in half, and half again. The correct and only true right way to do this is by folding a towel in half and then in thirds, as God wants it. I was told this by mother of an ex-boyfriend, who scared the crap out of me on more than one occasion.
Ketchup on French toast. Okay, this one is mine. One Sunday morning, not too long after we were married, I made breakfast for the Mister and I. (You can tell we were newlyweds by the fact that A)I was making breakfast for the Mister and B) he was eating it. He doesn't eat breakfast, and he was probably still being polite about it.) I made French toast, and had maple syrup with mine. The Mister put ketchup on his. I nearly threw up. Ketchup on French toast is an abomination against God and man. He countered that you put ketchup on eggs, and French toast is just bread and eggs, so why not?? Because, I said, I DO NOT put ketchup on eggs, and it's vile, that's why not. (Just for the record, I don't put ketchup on hardly anything, just fries and burgers. Not grilled cheese, not scrambled eggs, not macaroni. The Mister is bewildered.)
The Designated Hitter Rule. When I was dating, a friend gave me an invaluable piece of advice: if you are struggling to find something to talk about, ask him about his opinion on the Designated Hitter Rule; there's barely a man alive who does not have an opinion about the Designated Hitter Rule. And she was right, in the right hands, that question will usually take care of the rest of the evening. (In baseball, in the American League, the pitcher does not have to take a turn at bat, they send in a special guy, the Designated Hitter, to hit the ball for him and run around the bases.) I've seen heads burst into flames discussing the Designated Hitter Rule....only pull it out when you want things to REALLY liven up.

Who knew?