Empty promises (or why I haven’t been blogging except on the rare occasion. Also, the Christmas update and why my new ereader is a pain in the butt).
I promised, awhile back, that I’d be blogging more by taking my laptop to work on the train. But then I realized that I had ONE COURSE to take through UVIC to complete this Diploma I’ve been plodding along on for a few years. ONE. So it turned out that the blogging more thing was an empty promise.
So I registered for the course (and oddly, my term paper ended up being about social media and its potential uses for volunteer recruitment and YAWN, you’d think that’d be good blog fodder but really, it wasn’t because I just wasn’t into it). And then all my time on the train became about reading and writing for the course because it was distance education and there were assignments every week plus a term paper which required weekly assignments that we didn’t get marked on per se, but needed to complete to be eligible for a mark in the course.
So I completed the course with a B+ which I would normally be not-so-happy about after not getting anything lower than an A- in all of the courses, but I was just so glad to get it done.
And aren’t you glad it’s done and you don’t have to read any more drivel like that?
So I submitted the paper and then it was Christmas and I was swamped at work and ended up missing my train home no fewer than 7 times. Right before I went on vacation a situation sort of blew up on me due to a database error and my boss made me take vacation with a “Fuck it. It can wait til the new year. Merry Christmas.”
(Have I mentioned I heart my boss?)
(Really, it was minor with few repercussions and then the situation unexpected sort-of resolved itself without any help from me in the new year).
So then it was Christmas and we hosted. Two sets of grandparents, nanny, Darren, myself and the Poptart. My parents at least stayed in their condo in Chilliwack. And the Poptart had some gastro-intestinal thing which we all passed around and it was great (not).
But the Poptart was spoiled and there are no words to explain how much her grandparents love her. She got her very own digital camera, table and chairs, rocking chair, various toys, and a large tin of Pirouline cookie things that we are not allowed to touch because according to my mom, they are for the Poptart and no one else.
The week before Christmas, I’d been out shopping for Darren’s present: a Kinect for the Xbox. And everyone was sold out. I kid you not. After doing some research, I realized that people were having issues with the old Xbox plus Kinect, so we bought a whole Xbox-Kinect package and it’s pretty cool. Kinectimals is pretty cute too.
I got a Kodak Video Camera (and it’s WATERPROOF so I can use it for contracts in the pool). And a new ereader from the Poptart. It’s an iView EB 700. Its backlit so I can use it at night without a light on (for which Darren is eternally grateful to the Poptart for getting it for me J). It’s also colour, which is nice for graphics. However it’s got some real issues with the battery (and don’t even get me started about trying to contact the company). But I still like it, mostly. Darren is working on exchanging it for me and trying to find out if there’s going to be a firmware update which might solve most of the issues (we think it’s misreporting the actual amount of charge in the battery). Of course, I loaned my old one to my mom to take to Mexico for 2 months so I have to use this one now.
(yes, yes, first-world problem. I am shallow, what can I say?)
So if you know anyone at Google who’s working on Android (because it’s an Android operating system), let me know and I’ll bake you some cookies or something in return for showing me how to pester them (I now have the world’s best butter cookie recipe. Seriously. Gobs and gobs of butter).
Update! They actually got back to me! Not satisfactorily, but at least I know the company isn’t run by hamsters. Or at the very least, the hamsters can type and write in mostly comprehensible English.
I have, in other words, been a reading fiend. Since the new year, I’ve read at least 5 books. Possibly more. To the point that I haven’t updated goodreads in awhile. I’m currently working on James Rollins’ latest Sigma series book “The Doomsday Key” and recently finished the previous one “The Last Oracle” which I thought I’d read, but it seems I’d only read the preview of it in the previous book. And those two books are just in the last week. I’ve also read several more which I can’t recall at the moment.
SO ANYWAYS, this is my really long and convoluted way of updating you and saying that I’ll be updating more frequently. No, really! I have a schedule done up, and three (THREE!) theme days planned.
Aren’t you lucky? Now you can read my drivel more!
Just when I thought it was safe…
…and I had escaped whatever that gastro-intestinal thing both the Poptart and Darren had, I am vomitous and other unmentionable things and going back to bed with gatorade and gravol when our nanny gets up.
Because now that Christmas Break is over, the Poptart is refusing to sleep in.
In re: The Cusp
Date: December 31, 2010
Time: 9:05 pm
(Which means it’s actually 2011 in Toronto and New York, and in an hour, it will be 2011 in Chicago)
I am drinking a glass of wine, while the Poptart sleeps and Darren is napping on the blow-up mattress in the living room, watching Back to the Future, which seems apt, considering it is New Years Eve. There is a mostly-empty box of Ferrero Rocher, with 4 left, sitting next to me on the sofa.
My life is pretty good.
We are on the cusp of a new year, and a new decade, and somehow, this seems more momentous than the new century 10 years ago. I have Darren. I have Shannon. And I feel more complete than I’ve felt in a long time. For the first time in years, my mind is quiet and I don’t feel overwhelmed by what might be or what might not be (thanks in no small part to finally being treated for depression). I feel more on the cusp of something than I have in quite awhile. What, I’m not quite sure, however it may just start with the resolution I make every year:
To be the best person I can be.
To that end, I have:
- Signed up for The Year of Happiness Challenge 2011. There are pictures of me as a baby, being really, intrinsically, happy. I see this in my daughter, and dammit, I want it back.
- Committed with Darren to get healthy and re-vamp our bodies
- Committed to reconnecting with Darren. We lost contact every once in awhile and this stretch has been longer than usual.
So my word for 2011 is Re-: as in really happy, re-connect, re-vamp. To get over that cusp, and find what’s on the other side.
Death by Pumpkin
Back in the summer, my inlaws gave my parents a squash of some sort from their garden. They had no clue what it was. It was green and I said it was a pumpkin. They said they hadn’t planted pumpkin. So we took the Mystery Squash to my parents place where it sat in the corner of their kitchen for 8 weeks. And slowly turned orange.
My parents brought it down for Halloween so we could use it as a jack ‘o lantern. But it still didn’t look like a pumpkin. It had a really hard, smooth in terms of lack of ridges but pebbled skin and was a pale orange. After some back and forth with Katie (in which I yfrogged her pictures of it), she suggested (because she’s brilliant like that) that we open it up and check the innards.
Turns out it was a pumpkin after all.
A couple of days before Halloween, I was at the store getting a few things and they had pumpkins on 2 for $5. So I grabbed a couple of the biggest ones I could find, thinking we’d have a right jack ‘o lantern party, what with the three pumpkins and all. The Poptart was most amused by the pumpkins rolling around in the cart.
And then Katie threatened me if I didn’t process the damn things and use them for actual food. So I processed one of the giant pumpkins and gutted the other one and put it out on the patio with the Mystery Squash That Was Really a Pumpkin.
Overall, I spent two days processing pumpkins: the Saturday before Halloween and a week from then. And boy, did my legs hurt.
I split the giant pumpkins in half, then in quarters and roasted half for puree. The other half I sliced up and roasted with extra virgin olive oil, salt and pepper (and my gimped hand is more gimped than ever). The Mystery Squash proved to be too hard to slice, especially with a gimped hand, so I had Darren split it in two and roasted the damn thing for puree.
The second Saturday, I decided it would be a good idea, after slicing and getting everything in the oven (it took several rounds as my oven is not all that big and can only fit two big roasting pans at a time) to crack open the wine while pureeing the pumpkin. Because dammit, I deserved it and my hand hurt.
No human digits were harmed in the making of the pumpkin puree. I used my food processor, which, once the blade is in, is incredibly safe.
When it was all said and done, I ended up with 24 cups of puree and 18 cups of slices in my freezer. This was after the Poptart ate close to her weight in pureed and sliced pumpkin.
I can’t make this stuff up
As I wrote before, my parents decided to buy a condo about 45 minutes away so they’d have some place to stay when they visit. So they came down one weekend, put in an offer, then left for the week and the following Monday they came down again because they got possession on Tuesday.
Anyways, on Tuesday, both Darren and I trucked off to work at our regular times. I got stuck in a rescheduled meeting right before lunch and when I came back to my desk, I’d had a call from home on my cel phone and my desk line but no message. I emailed Darren and asked if he’d gotten a call from home; he indicated yes, but there was no message. I phoned home but no one was there. I finally phoned our Nanny on her cel phone and talked to her; she hadn’t called, so I assumed it was my parents.
Then I didn’t hear from my parents all week. They don’t have a cel phone yet, but will be getting one at some point because they’ll be here and there now, so I didn’t really expect them to call.
On Thursday, my mom called. They’d gone home to the Shuswap because they caught a cold. I took the opportunity to ask her about the phone calls.
Some days, you see, my family is comedy GOLD – it’s like Jim Carrey meets Vince Vaughan meets Will Farrell in an original National Lampoon movie.
My parents have a house key and a code to the security system. But the previous weekend, dad had switched the key to his other keychain that has the RV keys on it. This time, they took the minivan down and had forgotten to switch the key back. Our nanny had gone out with the Poptart and they had no way to lock the house.
So they called us to find out our nanny’s cel phone number, to get her to come back to lock the house up. This, apparently, did not work since neither of us answered our phones.
There are two exits from our house: the front door and the garage door. If you go out the garage door, there’s a sensor at the bottom of the garage exit to outside that will stop the door from going down if it’s tripped. To close the door, you either need the remote (which was in the car that Darren had) or you use the button on the wall by the door into the house.
So, my parents locked the front door, went into the garage and locked the garage door and opened the exit door. Mom went outside and waited while dad hit the wall button and made a mad dash for the door.
After the 5th try, he managed to get his legs up high enough to miss the sensor.
I only wish there had been a camera available.
We do nothing halfway, or, the bull in a one bedroom condo
Me (on phone): You’re in Chilliwack? Are you broke? (Ed. Note: meaning, are you broken down and do you need a ride because although it’s Friday, I haven’t had a drink yet)
Dad: No, no! We’re fine! But we may be broke by the time we finish this deal! See you in an hour! [click]
When my family confronts a problem, we do nothing halfway. It’s either all fixed, or not at all. None of this wishy-washy, namby-pamby, half-assed fixes. You fix it or you don’t. It’s quite simple, although it can sometimes resemble a bull in a china shop*
So my parents decided they had a problem when they came down to visit us. Somehow, in 2000 square feet, there is not enough room for 5 adults and a toddler. Something about sleeping on blow-up beds in the living room or office with All Those Damn Machines** and the second bedroom is occupied by our Nanny. They’ve been bringing their RV down but that won’t work in winter because the weather mavens are projecting the Year of Heap Big Snow and ANYWAYS, my parents will be taking off to Mexico because dad needs some dental work done.***
So to solve the problem, they did what any rational bull in a china shop would do: they bought a one-bedroom condo about 45 minutes away from us so they’d have a place to stay when they come and visit.
*although, not the Mythbusters version of the bull in the china shop. In this case I mean the proverbial bull in the china shop. Also, dad is a Taurus.
**meaning the numerous computers in there, which is why I often refer to it as the Computer Room or the Geek Cave.
***do you really want to know about this one?
Because Monday kicked my ass
- I have been busy and am about to get busier.
- This working full time and having a toddler, a partner and a blog is tiring.
- Especially when the toddler decides to be awake at night from Sunday-Monday.
- And so you take the toddler downstairs to sleep on the blow up bed and she can play.
- Shortly after you lie down, the toddler takes a running leap onto the mattress.
- And lands on your head. This might explain the headache the next morning.
- Then half before light arrives WAY TOO FUCKING SOON and you drag your sorry butt out of bed, such as it is, and thank the flying spaghetti monster for the person who invented the automatic coffee maker.
- And then you haul yourself to work, do some things half asleep and take a nap at lunch.
- Which means you’re late getting back from lunch.
- You email your partner to pick you up from the train because you’re just so damned tired. And he emails you back saying “Shouldn’t be a problem. I have a ride home tonight”
- So you take the train home and are waiting. And waiting. And the bus leaves. And you phone home and talk to the nanny who says your partner isn’t there and you assume that he is on his way.
- But you hop the last bus possible just in case and get home and he’s outside talking to the neighbour. He says, “Do you have the car?”
- Because he left the car at the train station and had someone else drive him home.
- So you walk back to the train station and get a bottle of wine and some gas on the way home.
- Except your debit card doesn’t work either at the liquor store or the gas station.
- And you drink some wine, snuggle the toddler who is being extra cute, what with the high-fiving between you and your partner.
- And you put the toddler to bed, then go to bed yourself.
- Because Monday kicked your ass into next week.
And I actually started this post on Tuesday. Its now Friday. Monday seemed to leak into the rest of the week what with the:
- Oh I thought I could do that, but I can’t. KTHXBAI.
- Oh no now I can do it; can you put me back in that position? :smack:
- The 7 hour meeting after working 5 hours already and not seeing my kid that day at all because it was the one day I would be late and she was sleeping in that day. (Hardest part of week)
- Nearly crying in my boss’ office when I told her about not seeing my kid the day before.
- Missing the 4pm mail pickup. :dammit:
There may be a more coherent post tomorrow if I get some sleep.
Because the Onion says it better than I ever could
Growing increasingly wrathful, God continued: “Can’t you people see? What are you, morons? There are a ton of different religious traditions out there, and different cultures worship Me in different ways. But the basic message is always the same: Christianity, Islam, Judaism, Buddhism, Shintoism… every religious belief system under the sun, they all say you’re supposed to love your neighbors, folks! It’s not that hard a concept to grasp.”
“Why would you think I’d want anything else? Humans don’t need religion or God as an excuse to kill each other—you’ve been doing that without any help from Me since you were freaking apes!” God said. “The whole point of believing in God is to have a higher standard of behavior. How obvious can you get?”
“I’m talking to all of you, here!” continued God, His voice rising to a shout. “Do you hear Me? I don’t want you to kill anybody. I’m against it, across the board. How many times do I have to say it? Don’t kill each other anymore—ever! I’m fucking serious!”
Upon completing His outburst, God fell silent, standing quietly at the podium for several moments. Then, witnesses reported, God’s shoulders began to shake, and He wept.
So today, on that day 9 years ago when the 20th Century officially ended, I could tell you where I was, or I could rant about the hypocrisy of the idea of freedom of religion, and make cracks about burning holy books.
But instead I’m going to ask: can’t we just all get along?
It’s Offishal: We should really think these things through
On Labour Day, we went out to Vancouver to get an activity table for the Popart from Left Coast Mama and @AnthonyFloyd. I think their boys tired the Poptart out because she ended up passing out somewhere in Burnaby on the way back. We stopped at the cold beer and wine store (why, oh WHY aren’t government liquor stores open on holidays?), and took River Road back.
As we went past the Wharf, I noticed there was a sign for salmon. “Hey,” I said. “Do you want to get some fish?”
So Darren pulled over and I slipped – literally. I was wearing runners and slipped on the mesh covering the ramp – down the ramp to the dock where they were selling the fish. I bought 3. It was about 3:30 in the afternoon.
Now fresh fish is great, especially salmon. The problem when you buy that day’s catch? You have to clean them yourself.
Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve gutted a fish?
I’ll bet you never knew I’ve gutted a fish. Except that was a lake trout that I caught myself when dad was trying to teach me to Live Off The Land What With The Coming Apocalypse and All (but that’s another story).
Salmon are a little different.
We got home, put the Poptart in her bed because she was still snoozing, and set up the patio table outside for the Great Fish Cleaning Extravaganza of 2010. I grabbed my box of surgical gloves and some really old tea towels (because fish? Are slippery, fyi). I sharpened a couple of knives and looked up instruction on How To Clean A Salmon.
Blergh, is all I have to say. BLERGH.
Darren sliced the first fish from butt to jaw and it was full of roe. FULL. I felt kind of sorry for the thing, but hey, dinner.
Anyways, it took about 45 minutes to clean that first fish. When we chopped off the head, I started singing “Roly poly fish heads”.
Then our Nanny came home, which was good because the Poptart had woken up and things were getting complex between slippery fish and a toddler that wanted something NOW but not THAT thing or THIS one, well maybe THAT one and GAH.
It turns out our nanny is really good at cleaning fish. What took us 45 minutes for one, took her 20 minutes for two.
Incidentally, I was looking at how to filet salmon on the internet and came across this video which is absolutely hilarious, because of and except for the Barry Manilow soundtrack that the Poptart started grooving to.
Later, after we had (a) thanked our nanny profusely and (b) cracked open the wine, we discussed Thinking Things Through Rather Than Buying Fish On a Whim. Especially when you have to clean them yourself.
But those salmon steaks? Really, really, really good when grilled with a bit of olive oil, salt and pepper.
What I did on my Summer Vacation
Last week, posts were a bit thin because we all took off on vacation, leaving our Nanny at home because she was going to the PNE with friends. We spent a few days with the inlaws, where the Poptart was overstimulated, overfed and spoiled and decided that she would only sleep with me because, well, she is a toddler.
On Saturday, we drove up. It was Darren’s dad’s birthday and we found out that he reads books like I do: like other people breathe. So we bought him an ebook reader like the ones we have. After, we went to the winery next door and got a couple of bottles of wine for dinner.
Sunday we lazed about while the Poptart had quality time with her grandma and grandpa. It was really great to see them together. Darren’s mom has had some health problems and she’s never so active or happy as when she sees her granddaughter.
On Monday, Darren had to go do a bit of work at his company’s satellite office in the early afternoon, so the Poptart ran around in the garden with her grandparents while I read. And read. And read some more. It was great.
After Darren got back, we had lunch and then took off for the other set of grandparents – about a two hour drive. I had wisely kept the Poptart up and then stuffed her at lunch. By the time we hit the highway (about 5 minutes) she was passed out in her carseat and slept all the way to Enderby – about halfway. We got gas and made a pit stop then carried on.
In order to get to my parents’ place, you turn off Highway 1 to Anglemont. And then you drive along this winding road right by Shuswap Lake for the longest 35 km ever. Seriously. It just doesn’t end. There are these distance markers here and there that say things like “Anglemont 35”, “Anglemont 19”, “Anglemont 11”, and “Anglemont 2”. It’s kind of like they’re telling you, “It’s okay! You haven’t missed it yet! Really! It’s still coming!”
Anyways, we got to my parents’ place, where the Poptart was overstimulated, overfed, spoiled and slept in her own bed because she went for long walks every day with grandma and was tired. Note: once you have kids, even when it’s your birthday, they’re the ones who get presents.
On Wednesday, we went to see the Scotch Creek salmon run. This is the precursor to the Adams River salmon run and is supposed to be the biggest run in like, ever. The Poptart and her grandpa bonded over fish.
And then on Thursday we came back in order to have the long weekend to recover. Today’s plans include: dentist appointments, haircuts and dinner with friends. Tomorrow, I’m making lunches for the week. Monday, I’m doing some lesson planning for an upcoming contract.
I know, exciting. What are your plans for the long weekend?
