T-Minus 4 Days

Today is Dec. 15. That means several things:

- Austrians arrive in four days;
- Today is my last day in my current job;

- Loki's been missing for 11 days;

- Tomorrow is my first day at my new job.

Some of those are happy and some are obviously not.

In spite of our recent tragedy, I've been able to accomplish many of my listed items in advance of xmas.

On Saturday I went shopping with my mom and bought one of everything I saw. Or so it seemed. Christmas shopping has now tipped the scale from mostly-not-done to mostly-done.

On Sunday we cleaned the house. Most of the house. It's gotten to the point where we're only cleaning the visible areas - the basement is now at the bottom of the priority list. Each area we approach we ask ourselves "are our guests really going to see this?" and if the answer's no, we leave it a hairy mess.

Also on Sunday, I fixed a few things in the bathroom. It now is almost presentable. However, the décor is rather strange; it's like two rooms in one. If you turn one way, it's a vivid green room with lots of knicknacks, if you turn the other, it's a study in subtle browns and off-whites. I will make my mind up some other day.

Also also on Sunday, I baked cookies. Four kinds of cookies, not all successful. I bought waaay too much butter, so I can re-make some of the cookies if need be. My 'Chewy Ginger Cookies' became 'crispy burnt ginger pancakes', as I guestimated the amount of butter I used. Hubby says they're wonderful so he gets all 96 of them. The pecans on the bottom of the Swedish Tea Rings burnt, and so I yanked them out of the oven and then added the jam too late, so it didn't get to cook into the cookies. Half of my lemon-poppyseed-cranberry cookies were burnt on the bottom, and the ones on the other ends of the trays were under-cooked. I have determined that I need a new oven, or need to be more on top of the one I've got. I have to watch it like a hawk.

Another thing I have to watch like a hawk? Rosie, my soap-eating dog.

Friday night I bought a big pack of soap bars and put them in a big jar with a lid on the bathroom vanity. Two bars didn't fit, so I opened the drawer, put them in the back, and closed it again. Rosie was watching me the whole time. I went into the kitchen to speak to hubby, and about 10 minutes later Rosie came wandering in smacking her lips. I said "what have you got there?" 'cause she's always chewing on something or other, and I hooked my finger into her mouth. It came out frothy and smelling of lavendar. I yelled "oh shit!" and ran to the bathroom, where I discovered the drawer open, and BOTH bars of soap lying on the ground. Or rather, 1.2 bars of soap. She ate the other 0.8, paper and all. We called the emergency vet line, and they said "unless you can deal with two to three days of diarrhea, you should induce vomiting." So we did, with hydrogen peroxide (gross), which made her visibly recoil after she drank it.

She sat there, looking as green as a black lab can look, ears pinned to her head with sad little eyes. Then she belched.

Then 3 minutes later she barfed. It came out like a milkshake, mixed with her dinner. It was a frothy white puddle of lavendar-smelling puke, really pleasant to clean up. She did it once again after I went to bed - with soap chunks this time - and then she was totally fine. Lesson learned: get kiddy locks for bathroom drawers, in case she acquires a taste for toothpaste, allergy pills, hair gel, tylenol, or any other potentially-deadly bathroom things.

She is clever, my Rosie: clever enough to open drawers, but not quite clever enough not to eat soap.

One other new development before I head off to my new job - Sasha, my female cat, has become a lot more tolerant of Rosie in Loki's absence. Who knows what goes on in their minds or their communication, but Sasha's become a bit more self-confident and she can now comfortably lie on the couch with the dog, without any claws or chasing or anything. This is big news. Sasha's lived on top of the red chair and on the kitchen table since last February, as she never developed the required sense of humour to deal with the puppy. Hence she weighs about 25 lbs - from all the sitting around and the stress eating. Rosie's more mellow now (imperceptibly, I'm sure), and they're coming around.

I may or may not have time to write again before my holidays (17 days off woooooo!) so if I don't, have a happy one.

...And a big dose of bad news

Our wee family has experienced an enormous tragedy: Loki has gone missing.

I don't even really know how to write about this. I've never imagined it happening, while at the same time I've always imagined it happening. It was always my worst possible scenario, the thing I would lay awake at night and worry about.

Turns out, I was right to worry. Generally, I didn't even think about it during the winter, when he didn't love staying outside long, and predators are fewer and kept at bay by deep snow. But last Friday, he went outside at lunchtime when my mom went to feed the dog (as he always did), and wasn't there at 7 p.m. when we got home (like he always was). We called and called. Hubby stayed up all night. The next morning, we called all the neighbors. Nobody'd heard or seen anything. Not a trace! We searched the forests, but the falling snow made everything disappear. We've put up signs, but nobody's called.

I have had a rotten week. I have a deep hurt, and it feels like a hole in my chest. I swear it gave me a respiratory disease - last weekend I couldn't catch my breath, it felt like someone was sitting on me. I've had a busy week at work so I haven't had a lot of time to think about it, but every horrible eventuality pops into my head, and I can't deal with it. I really cannot deal with this.

Loki was the world's greatest cat. Bar none, apologies to the rest. He was wise, intuitive, wiley, sensitive, hilarious, independent, patient, and a terrific partner to Sasha. He was quick-witted, and we thought of him as the King of the forest. After 7 years of prowling the woods, he knew every stick and leaf. We never knew where he went, but he was at home everywhere, supremely confident and calm. Every autumn, when the days got shorter and the temperatures colder, Loki would grow visibly depressed, and spend his days curled up on the bed or in his red chair. He'd go out for a bit, but would mostly mope around the house. Come spring, he was reanimated, and the birds of the neighborhood suffered for it. I have seen that cat training Sasha to hunt, and bringing a mouse home as a gift to her. For a couple of years, dead rodents would turn up on the deck just as we went out to light the BBQ, and we always suspected he was asking us to grill up his dinner.

When we had people over or even large parties, Loki was always in the middle, getting to know everyone, laying in their coats - especially if the guest wore cologne - and generally enjoying himself. He was very popular among humans. I have actually picked him up upon return from one of his adventures, and he smelled like perfume or flowers. He would demand a shower from the bathroom tap every night before we went to bed, so we'd scrub water into his head while he stared at himself in the mirror, purring. He was very debonnair. He loved to eat people food, especially garlicky things like hummus, and loved to nibble on chives. He made his dislikes known as well - two weeks ago I was using a lightbulb tester on my xmas lights, and it emits a weird beeping when the tested circuit is good. After I'd been at it for 5 minutes, with Loki staring at me impatiently from the table above, he hopped down, quickly and lightly bit my hand, and ran away. Some mornings, especially weekend mornings when we were slower to get up, I'd feel something strange on my face and find Loki staring at me from 1/4 inch away, his whiskers tickling my lips. He'd then hop off the bed and tip over the garbage can, scrunch up a few plastic bags, knock chapsticks (or water glasses) off the bedside table, and generally be a pain until we woke up and fed him.

When he was just a kitten, and we lived in our apartment, every night he had what we would call 'Monkey Hour', when he'd just run up and down the hall for no apparent reason, and don't get in his way because he'd plow right into you. He'd get crazy eyes, and would run sideways he was so keyed up. After that was done, he'd settle in for the night. We worried about the Christmas tree the first year, but he knocked one bulb off once, and that was it.

He never had any health issues. He disliked the vet ferociously, and when poor Dr. Fro would hear that Loki was coming in, he needed to gather his special equipment. A heavy blanket to cover him up, and long falconer-type gloves to wear. Once upon a time Loki had his anal glands expressed by the vet, and he never forgot it. He would act like a total embarrassing jackass - panting and moaning all the way there (a hellish 10-minute drive), and snorting and snarling once he was on the table. I would feel like an embarrassed parent, repeating "I swear, he's not really like this." Still, he went in for all his regular appointments and shots, and was the picture of health. He lost a lot of weight this past year, probably due to the dog, who had him on the run constantly, but also probably because he was on diet food since Sasha is morbidly obese.

His last year wasn't the best of his life, and I feel guilty about that, because Rosie was just starting to leave him alone and be a nice companion for him. They were actually starting to like each other. I knew it would happen - didn't know it would take so long - but I feel like perhaps Loki felt he was getting short shrift, that he'd been knocked down a peg in the attention game. That could never be the case. Every morning I would cuddle with him for a minute and remind him that I loved him. I know he's not reading this, but for the record, I paid him less attention because I knew he could withstand it, and I knew he understood. He knew intuitively that Rosie was a puppy, and had great patience with her. He watched where he put his claws.

Loki will be missed by all of us. Our friends, our family, everyone who knew him. I won't focus on the specifics of what may have happened to him, but I feel like he went out like a warrior, doing what he loved best to do. He's gone to Valhalla, as it were, and I hope whatever happened was brief and worthy. Farewell, brave Loki. I love you.

1998 - 2008.

A Little Good News

Work has been a total pain in my ass lately.

Not only am I spending all my spare time preparing for Christmas in the usual harried ways, but I am also working overtime to make the house function/look decent in anticipation of our Austrian guests, who arrive in 16 days. You can imagine that I am feeling a bit stretched – I seem to fall asleep around 8:30 p.m. every evening for a short bit – especially when you take into account that I have four events to organize next week and one the week after. These aren’t cakewalk events either; they’re high-stakes.

I’ve been doing this job for just about five years. In February, it will be my anniversary. It’s the type of job that requires a good deal of energy and inspiration, both to come up with new and exciting ideas, but also to see through the administrative/financial/political things inevitably get in the way and to push through with any enthusiasm left. I have liked this job quite a lot and been proud of my accomplishments. It has afforded me many opportunities that I wouldn’t otherwise have ever had, and for that I am thankful. I have traveled. I have met really really interesting people. I have stayed in very nice hotels and eaten at top-drawer restaurants and stolen all the best hotel toiletries (I never buy soap!). I have been to Rideau Hall on a number of occasions, and have a black-tie section in my wardrobe to prove it.

Lately though, people have been getting plucky. Emails are getting ruder and ruder, things are being forgotten or overlooked, and colleagues are getting snippy or emotional. Maybe I am guilty of this as well, I can’t tell. It happens at this time every year – the year is a cycle, and we are at the end of it and all ready for vacation. We are all bone weary and like siblings stuck in the back seat of a car on a long drive, we’re starting to pick at each other. On the 19th we will have our Christmas party (excuse me – Holiday party) and everyone will sit together in their little groups and lick their wounds, and drink like fish at lunchtime, and pull the curtains and pretend it’s evening so the dance floor fills up. Everyone will then go their separate ways and heal themselves before returning for a new cycle.

So a week ago, when the Human Resources department called me up to tell me that I’d won the competition for a new position, I was beyond happy. I am ready for a change, but not so much change that I would leave the organization, and not so much change that I don’t want to have a fall-back position. I will fill a two-year term as a program officer in the Visual Arts section, which means I will manage several of the granting programs in that discipline. I get a new office, a new batch of coworkers, a new floor and even new art on the walls. I get exciting new duties and lots of contact with the arts community. I start on December 16, and will come back to my current job on March 30, 2011, unless something catastrophic happens. This is a big deal for me – I have wanted this job for a long time.

Yay to me. I am thrilled. I am trying to pack up my current office in the midst of all these events, figure out what my successor will want or need to use, and still deal with the demands of coworkers, run all of my errands and do all of my shopping in between. The house is a complete disaster but I’m saving that task for a later date. I only have two hands and 24 hours in a day.

Change of plans

Funny how things can change each week, huh?

Each week has it's own set of feelings and focus and activities, I find. Just an observation.

There's nothing bad happening, for those family members who might read this and think the worst. In fact, only good things are happening: I found out on Monday that my Austrian family will be visiting us from December 16 to 30.

I am thrilled. I haven't seen my nephew, who is 13, in a year and a half. And now we get to share christmas with them! Normally christmas is pretty rote in our house - we buy a tree from the same place each year, on the same weekend, and I decorate it listening to the same christmas CD as every other year. We have a dinner xmas eve, go to my parents' xmas morning, have dinner at my parents' xmas night, and head to my grandmother's place usually boxing day or so, for a night. My brother has a ripping new years' eve party, and we hang around the house and eat a lot.

So this year, where I'd planned to be quite low-key, in fact I'm going to go balls-to-the-wall for Christmas. I've booked off work as of the 19th, and will work my butt off until then to make sure the house is in good standing, we have room for everyone, everyone is appropriately fêted and fed, and there's a good supply of everything readily available. The work starts this Friday, when I head to IKEA to find storage solutions for the crap I haven't dealt with yet, and for all of our coats, hats, mittens, boots, etc. etc.

For those relatives reading this: they will likely not attend Oma's xmas so don't worry about having extra six-footers in the room. Not like we need any more of those.

We're going to hunt for a real christmas tree (sssh don't tell the neighbors) and decorate it together. I will invest in some decent xmas music, and retire the Madonna/BoneyM/Bing Crosby CD I've been making my honey nuts with since 1998. OK maybe I'll keep the Boney M. Just for him, he hates it so.

I will bake cookies, and maybe we will make candies - together. How very Martha. We will ALL enjoy the family fun-due on xmas eve, so fun-due for 9, and we will ALL head to my mom's for turkey christmas night. We will ALL unwrap our gifts xmas eve and we will place a few under my mom's tree too. I will hang out the advent calendar my nephew made me two years ago and fill it with chocolates for him (at least two weeks' worth). We will go skiing (if there's snow) and for hikes, and I plan on making my nephew walk the dog during the day, to give myself a break. We will drive up and look at our land, and see our shared lake in the flat December light. I hope they like it.

But between now and then, I have (let's see....) eight events to organize. Why does work stack them all up like this? Beats me. Sadists. I go all summer with very little to do and then BOOM. It's not even like they're all planned-for during the summer; they pop up like mushrooms throughout the fall. It's sick. By the time xmas comes, I can only hope not to be sick as a dog and completely flattened as I have been in the past couple of years. I have work to do people! Austrians to host! Food to eat! I am trying a new persona on for the next month or so - one who doesn't give a fig and rolls with the punches. I'll let you know how it works out.

Celebrating Good Times

There are very few days of the year/decade when I say "Damn, I wish I was American." Yesterday was one of them. Barack Obama is a good man, and will be a great President - measured, diplomatic, intellectual, warm, a constitutional lawyer with a terrific international background and a whip-smart wife. What a sea change.

The only positive thing I can say about the other ticket is that I'm jealous of Sarah Palin's hair and her post-five-children body.

We celebrated last night by heading to my girlfriend's place, eating pizza, playing Wii, and hanging with her kids. We watched the early returns, for as long as it took to feel comfortable that there wouldn't be any Republican shenanigans or bounce-backs, before heading home to catch McCain's concession speech.

I don't think Americans could understand how this could be exciting for a white lady from Canada, but I am beside myself. I feel like the world just let out a collective sigh of relief. I can stop scratching my head, as I've been doing for the past 8 years, trying to figure out how a quite friendly and reasonable-looking group of people could have made such a collossal mistake. I am hoping that the world's political climate will be changed, that America can heal itself, and go back to being the friendly giant to our south. I hope too that the buzz of inspiration felt by our neighbors will spill over the border and light a fire beneath the arses of some of our stale leaders or leaders-in-waiting; it's telling that we had the worst-ever turnout in our election a couple of weeks back, in the shadows of the phenomenon down south. Our own less-than-uninspiring leader was elected by just over 22% of registered voters (about 15% of the overall population if that matters) in a system that has revealed itself to be quite flawed. We do a lot of things right here in Canada, but apparently elections aren't one of them.

So there's my political statement for this blog. I don't feel comfortable 'going there' usually but I feel like celebrating.

I look forward to seeing what SNL does in the next few months as well, as they're now going to have to up the ante in terms of African-American cast members.

My Favourite Uncelebrated Holiday

Happy Hallowe'en y'all. Today is my favourite holiday of the year.


(crickets)


Once again, I've disappointed myself by inadequately observing the glorious night that is halloween. After last year's disappointing participation (I think we had about 12 kids total), we vowed that this year we'd do it up right: have a huge party, totally overhaul/decorate the house, buy all manner of creepy things throughout the year, and make it really memorable. Do it up right. Then life happened (364 days of it) and we got a dog, and our perspective changed. Currently, I can't imagine having the time to clean my house let alone completely overhaul it for a day. Also, I can't imagine getting to a place where Rosie won't insist on chewing on random stuff, eating firewood, and jumping on everyone, thereby destroying/being injured by any intricate costumes worn by potential partygoers.

NEXT YEAR. I will send Rosie to gramma's house and have a real party, I swear. According to my handy 16-month united way calendar, which marks paydays and other important holidays, Halloween is on a Saturday in 2009, so perhaps that will be my motivation to do it up right. They had these awesome black roses at the Giant Tiger that I should have bought. Perhaps they'll be half-price tomorrow (note to self: shop tomorrow). Also, I will need the full year to construct the amazing and terrifying lawn/home décor required. Once my home renos are done perhaps I'll have some time to devote to this (ha.) Do you think that childrens' trick-or-treating will get in the way of my party plans?

For now, I'm going to have to be content with the pumpkin that Rosie and I carved late last night (Rosie carved it WITH HER TEETH), my orange jacket, and the Mars bars and Twizzlers I bought for the inevitable 10 kids who will show up at my door. Shoot maybe I should buy more candy. I had thought I might be able to dress Rosie up and pass her off as a kid so I can scam more candy for myself, but that might be hard. I wanted to tie fake arms to her and pretend she's actually a three-year old, dressed up as a dog, but perhaps that treads too close to the pathetic line. Next year, I am totally renting children.

Knit knacks

Last night I managed to finally complete a sweater that I've been working on since last christmas.

It's Kate Gilbert's Union Square Market Pullover. I made it in a dark eggplant with lime green trim, with Drops Alpaca yarn. It's a gorgeous yarn, but I think I might hate my sleeves. I am not sure. I may have to improvise them a wee bit. I'm not posting any photos because I'm not 100% thrilled with the result, though reviews seem positive so far (I'm wearing it to work). Colour is good, fit is ok, but the sleeves are too long (and wide, actually) and I think I screwed up the cuffs somehow. I'm not sure. Also it could be 2 inches longer on me, for comfort. Sigh.

Nuts for Winter

Gennyland's status update: it's October 27, work is v. busy, I'm pretty excited about the U.S. election, I'm finishing the sweater I've been working on since last xmas, I've started thinking about gifts for this xmas, the house is nearly all tucked in for winter, the firewood needs to be put away, the winter tires need to be put on the car, I'm getting over my cold and Rosie's just lovely in general.

Fall is in full swing and the leaves have mostly fallen off the trees. I'm really looking forward to this weekend, when the clocks change, because for once I will be able to use the daylight in the morning more than the daylight at the end of the day. Seriously, I can't find my dog in the mornings. That extra hour of daylight will come in handy.


This weekend, we finished off the remaining "must-dos" of the house renovations. We also put away a lot of our big outside stuff, making this coming weekend's to-do list a bit shorter. It's looking nice inside, as I've moved some things around. I have some projects on the go and have a few more lined up for the pre-christmas season, which promises to be jam-packed again this year. Did I ever show you the paintings I did for my brother last year? Here they are:

I get ambitious around this time of year.

The pressing question right now is: what to do for Halloween? What level of participation will I be able to achieve this year? Will I be able to carve a pumpkin? Hand out candy? Make the house look scary? Dress up the dog? I really want to dress up the dog but I don't know if she'll stand for it. A few ideas that I have include: a bat; a skeleton; a ghost; a spider; a witch. Somehow, if I can guage it by the number of stuffed toys she's annihilated in the past months, I don't think it's worth putting a lot of effort into. Especially considering we have nowhere to go and get about 8 trick-or-treaters per year. But fun! I tried to dress up the cat last year with very little success. She glowered at me until I took off her little witch-hat-with-orange-hair. I need to have children and fast.

I also suspect Rosie might try to eat the pumpkin. She promptly chewed the handle off as soon as we brought it home. I wonder if I could dress her up as a steak?

After the Halloween buzz has worn off I'll be knitting, printing, glueing, wrapping and generally crafting myself into an ulcer again this year. I've decided, however, I will not be giving home-made food gifts in 2008, as last year's efforts proved to be either A) extremely unsuccessful, or B) still in my fridge a year later. I'll see what Martha has to say next month. I have some ambitious hand-crafted ideas though, which I won't report on in this blog until after the gifts have been unwrapped. No offense to any readers of course.

All this creative fertility (Alannis Morrisette's words, not mine) runs in the background of my day-to-day keeping it together. A good friend recently had a family tragedy, so I want to try to spend some time with her - I think we're off to the movies tomorrow night. Our family - including Rosie - has been invited to another dinner on Sunday night, which I'm really looking forward to. Also, I'm really considering getting a cleaning lady. I have found someone who's been recommended highly, and am tempted to hire her based on her name alone (Mavis Zeitz! What a great handle!), but haven't worked up the courage to call her. I've decided I have, as my girlfriend in BC once said, "more money than time" these days (which isn't saying much really, except that I have very very little time) and have had to make some decisions as to what's most important in my life - scrubbing my own toilet or making christmas gifts? It's an easy decision for me, but one that hubby's struggling with - not that he scrubs many toilets....

New things in my life: Rosie's "Sporn" halter, which makes walking her much easier; a possibly exciting career movement; new sweaters on deck to be knitted up, with lovely new yarn; dad's recovering from his shoulder surgery; a new diet for the new year, aimed at lowering my insulin resistance or something (don't ask, it's another post); my favourite TV show premieres in three days; hubby's starting a new job; one of my oldest friends has moved back to my neighborhood; my "Green Committee" work is going very well at the office (I am a co-chair), and I have no more airplane trips to make in 2008. All in all it's looking pretty good.

.... and about that waterfront lot

So about that waterfront lot I coyly mentioned earlier.

Remember a long time ago hubby and I got some good news? Well, hubby's brother got the same good news, and piled onboard to join our longstanding pipe-dream plans for a waterfront place. After a bunch of excited emails, we came to the conclusion that it's best if we each have our own individual places, that way he can rent his when he's not using it (he lives in Austria), he can leave it to his son in his will, his friends (who live here) can use it if they want, and nobody has to worry about "well I want to buy that couch but so-and-so will be peeved if I throw out the old one....." you get the point. I have a clear vision of what I want our place to look like, and I suspect they do as well. And this way, we can all stay close to each other without sitting on one another, which sort of happens when they visit our (very small) place.

Then we got to talking to my brother and my neighbor, who are in cahoots, and they convinced us to go take a look at this chunk of land for sale an hour north of us. It's on a lake called Petit Lac Cayamant (not to be confused with Lac Cayamant, which is horrid) near the village of Otter Lake. Up until 10 years ago, it was all crown land, but I guess the municipality needed a larger tax base so they hired a developer to open it up. It's about 6 km long, and has 47 lots along the eastern shore only. That's the maximum number, set by the provincial government, so we expect that the western shore will always remain as undeveloped crown land. There are islands, as well, which are also crown land. The lake is clean and there's no electrical service to the road leading in, which is gated. There's an association, of which we will soon be members, and there's a sort of caretaker guy who lives up near the gate. We went to look, had a boat ride, met some of the neighbors, and promptly put in our little deposit for two pieces of land, 3 acres each, side by side on a sort-of point. Now we have an empire.

The brother-in-law has yet to see these properties, of course, but was willing to trust us to buy it on his behalf, sight unseen.

Now we're wandering around calling ourselves wealthy landowners. The fact of it is, I'm not sure that we are wealthy landowners, as I'm not sure what monetary surprises lurk in the darkness. For sure there will be some costs involved in getting service to the lot - cutting a laneway, bringing in a composting toilet, a water system, solar panels, etc. - but I'm just not sure what it means in terms of investments and taxes. I'm wary.

Someone asked me: "why do you want a cottage when you live in the country?" It's a valid question, and certainly must seem a bit indulgent from an outside perspective. The truth of it is, even though we live a rural setting, we still only have one acre, and it's still a developed neighborhood. We have neighbors who we can hear through the trees. The dog has to be on a leash because there's moderate traffic. There's garbage pick-up and mail delivery. The house needs to be maintained, and clean, and contains all of the modern conveniences which also need maintaining. I like the furniture to seem as new as possible and the floors to stay relatively undamaged. You can't wander into the front yard and jump off a dock, and my hubby can't go fishing at 5 a.m., and be back before breakfast (let's not kid ourselves. That will never happen anyway). We can't sleep 8 in our house. The upstairs isn't a play loft for visiting kids or sleeping babies. I have a garden to maintain and a lawn that needs mowing. I suppose our house could do all of those things, but the fact is I don't want it to. I love having parties, but it sort of stresses me out to clean the entire house only to have it messed up again, and then to have everyone leave at 11 p.m. to go back to the city. I want to have weekend-long parties, let the place get filthy, track sand everywhere, play old board games and do old puzzles when it rains, and not worry about snowplowing or deck shovelling in winter. I want to bring up only the food I'm going to eat that weekend, and spend my days NOT worrying about what needs to be done around the house before Monday. I want to be able to say to friends, "hey, why don't you use the cottage this weekend?"

Another factor is that with the markets the way they are, we really couldn't think of another way to invest our money than in waterfront land, which never goes out of style.

This mythical cottage is a long way away. We're not that rich. We got out of debt, paid a bit down on our mortgage, and bought this piece of land and we will be in debt again once the transaction is done. Once that's paid off, we can start thinking about building something. In the meantime, we have big plans for the brother's place, which will be built next spring. And we are certainly enjoying the idea of being wealthy landowners.

Readjusting my sensors

Wow, it's fall. Just like that. I got busy at work, went to Winnipeg for almost a week, and now I'm back and it's full-on crazy-time fall. The leaves are glorious, the weather is chilly, and I had to scrape the car this morning.

The biggest downside of fall is that I notice that the older I get, the more sensitive I am to environmental change. When I was young I never noticed it, but now that I'm at the ripe old age of 33, I notice when the seasons change, I feel it physically. Everyone around me is sick, and it's unusual that I'm not sick as well, though I feel like I am staving something off. My bones hurt. I am exhausted. I can't wake up in the morning, because it's so dark. I have zero energy at night. All I want to eat is heavy pasta casseroles with lots of cheese and red wine and bread, so I am not exactly losing weight. My skin's all dry and itchy. I have no desire to be outside. When I'm at home, I'm usually outfitted in head-to-toe polar fleece.

In good news, the house is done for the year. We have one more day's work on it, which will be tomorrow, as it's going up to +17. It looks fan-freaking-tastic. I actually find that it looks TOO clean, my eyes have to readjust, as I'm used to the front of the house looking like a tarpaper shack. I have all new brushed-metal light fixtures, which finally illuminate the path approaching my house, so no more injured trick-or-treaters. What's left to do are the upper parts of the house - three small angled walls for which I'll have to stand on the roof, and which will require a coordinated effort so as not to prolong the roof-standing. I have to paint the frames of 4 long windows red, but that can no longer be done this year. Then I have to hire someone to put in new soft and eavestroughing, and we have to re-do the deck including railings. I had hoped that part of the deck would be done for this year, but it's realistically not going to happen, considering that we have yet to deal with the firewood, make cider, finish off the inside of the bathroom window, have two waves of company visit, and potentially start clearing our waterfront lot.

Oh did I not mention the waterfront lot?

This coming winter I think I will focus on the interior. I want to fix up the basement so it's more usable and not as scary/filthy. I want a new tile backsplash in the kitchen, which I've been dithering on for 3 years. I potentially want a new, deeper bathtub. I want usable storage in the basement to remedy the fact that we currently have had to cut a path through the junk to the workshop/laundry area.

I will post pictures soon. In the meantime, let's think about that waterfront lot.....

Things I learned before 8:30 a.m.

Rosie ran away this morning.

We were out on one of her little useless trips outside, the ones where she acts like she has to pee but really she just wants to go outside and sniff at the places where the skunk dug up the lawn. Last night she got skunked, ever so slightly, which sent us into panic mode as: A) it was her first, and B) we have a wedding/vacation to go to this weekend, and we're bringing her along, 'cause it'll also be a dog party. I washed her with dishsoap so only her muzzle smells now.

So we're walking up the road, and I see Cleo, the neighbor's very nice dog, hanging out by our laneway. I let Rosie go up and say hi. They ran around and around in circles, and played a bit, and I thought "they're not going far, and it's early, so I'll just let Rosie off the leash". This after having been dragged over a ditch and having my arm pulled out of its socket about 3 times. I unclipped her. They ran around and around and into the woods. I called Rosie and she came flying back at me, grazing me, and flew back into the woods. I let her run around a bit, then called her again, and again she came flying back at me. But then she ran in the other direction. Up near the other neighbors' place.

The other neighbors are mysterious to us. We never see them - I had never met the wife, and we've lived here 61/2 years. They're very German, and have nasty German shepherd dogs with names like "Hagar" and "Rex" and "Chonga". The dogs are not friendly and they're enormous. When I saw Rosie run off in that direction, I panicked, as last night we had a near-dark encounter with Hagar, who displayed his not-so-friendly side while off his leash.

She went bounding off into the woods in their direction. I called and called - nothing. I called until I was hoarse. Nothing. My nice neighbor the blacksmith called his dog, Cleo, and she returned, but no Rosie . We both called. I went in and woke up hubby, who came bounding out of the house in his jacket, sneakers and underwear. We both called. Hubby went crashing into the woods, and got so far that I could only hear his shouts faintly. Nothing. No movement in the woods, no barking, no whimpering.

My mind raced to all scenarios: She'd gotten down to the highway. She'd followed a bear. She'd eaten something dangerous. She'd upset someone. She'd gotten kicked or attacked by an animal. She'd gotten into a porcupine. She was lost.

All those things raced through my head. I had a chalky mouth and felt weak, and almost threw up. I called my mom because I didn't know what else to do, and she came over and called her as well. Finally we heard one bark that was unmistakeably hers. I chilled out a bit, as at least she was alive and didn't sound too far away. Then another bark. We all ran towards the sound from different directions - hubby still in the woods in his underwear. It was coming from the direction of the mysterious neighbors' house, so I screwed up my courage and went up their laneway. I heard "hullo!?" and there he was - and his wife! He said "watch out, there's a bear beside the house." I explained that I had lost my dog and heard her barks coming from the direction of their yard, and he said "she's probably got the bear." He had gloves on and had called the wildlife service. Then I hear hubby shouting "I HAVE HER". Turns out, she'd gotten caught in one of the neighbor's live traps, which he uses for trapping raccoons. My dog is very black and medium-sized, and he'd thought he'd seen a bear in the trap so called the wildlife service. Misunderstandings all around, and Rosie was humbled, but fine. We rejoiced.

So the things I learned this morning are:

1. Rosie will come when called, unless she's stuck in a trap.
2. The neighbors, who we've spent 6.5 years giving sidelong glances to, are actually quite nice and have a beautiful garden hidden beside their house.
3. The neighbors have traps set all over their yard.
4. There is a bear that lives near their house, which they see often.
5. There is a dude living in the woods beside our house. Hubby was walking a trail up there and heard "hullo?" but he didn't see ANYTHING. He looked around. He said "I was on the trail but the guy was in the woods, and I could NOT see him." So that's a bit freaky.

All in all, that was a lot of action for early morning. Now we're off to a wedding!

Updated to add: hubby clarified for me later that when he found Rosie, she was just sitting there cheerfully, in the cage, wagging her tail. He actually said "I wish I had a photo of exactly that image, because it was so damn cute." Our guess is that she's so used to being in her crate that she figured she was in a new outdoors crate, and just settled in.

Also, we were told that that night was the year's first killing frost, and that the dude in the woods was probably harvesting, ahem, some of his crops. Makes sense, and explains his terse tone. So phew, no dude living in the woods.

Renovations, part one million.

Did you forget that I am renovating my house?

Well technically, my dad is renovating my house. As we speak. He has been a superhero in terms of coming over when we're at work and plugging away at the G-D siding. We absconded with my brother's super-saw back in June and now he needs it back, so we're hustling. I say "we" but really it's "he". I work at it whenever I'm home but these days that's pretty rare.

It's coming along. We've been held up by a lazy electrician, but we're slogging away at the 'easy' wall. I say 'easy' because back when we started, we were all like "and then when we get to that wall, it'll be all fwoop fwoop fwoop super easy." But it has turned out to be a lot of fwoop fwoop, and a LOT of painting. We have used up the 10 foot, 11 foot, and now 12 foot boards, so we're working with 13-footers and having to cut them off.

We still have to:
- Finish the 'easy' wall
- have a light installed and the anchor replaced
- styrofoam the angled wall
- strapping on the angled wall
- styrofoam the long straight wall (4 feet wide)
- strap the long wall
- do the siding on both of these walls
- facia boards all around the house
- Remove the siding from the top three angled weird walls up high
- paint 4 windowframes dark red
- do the styrofoam, strapping, and subsequent siding on these three walls
- caulk the entire thing (we will hire someone for this).

The project became a two-year project, and we're now realizing that it'll be three years before we get all of this done, plus the new deck which was supposed to happen this fall. Part of it still may, depending on energy levels. We may leave the last 4 items on the list for next year, along with the sofit and eavestroughing we'll have to invest in.

(sigh).

Basically, we have completely rebuilt this shoddy house. I'd post pictures but it's frankly too depressing.

In defense of the "stay-cation"

I will agree that it is an irritating catchphrase.

This morning I read an article in 'Salon' deriding the term 'stay-cation' and the people who decide to stay close to home on their time off work.

In defense of the concept (if not the term), the stay-cation has always been my preferred use of time off. This for many reasons: it's cheaper, it's less stressful, it' beautiful, and I get to catch up on the things that I never have time for when I'm at work, at my own pace. It always drives me nuts when people at work say "how was your week off? Did you go anywhere?" I guess I'm guilty of asking the same question, but the answer I get is usually 'yes', whereas I always just say "nope!"

We do go on vacations sometimes; in the past six years we've been to the following places together on our time off:

- a road trip to Halifax for a wedding
- honeymoon in Fernie BC
- various camping trips
- road trip to a cottage in southern Ontario, 9 hours away
- two road trips to cottages in southern Ontario, 3 hours away
- a two-week trip to France, Germany and Austria
- a week in BC this past April.

We had a lot of fun on most of these trips. We travel well together, my hubby and I, and we generally have a good time when we're on the road. However when we get back I am always presented with the same problems: the work that I usually do while I'm home piles up and still has to be done, then the credit card bill has to be paid, and within a week the effects of the vacation have worn off and I'm back to my old routine. I will grant you that I'm still feeling the effects of the trip to Europe, which we took almost two years ago, but for the most part, I usually come home wondering why I left in the first place.

Not to mention that if we leave, we have to figure out what to do with the pets, which I always find stressful.

When I stay home for vacation, I wake up late, lazily make coffee, feed the animals, sit on my deck and watch the birds and bugs in the garden, then pick away at my daily tasks as I see fit. Some days I work like a sonofagun, so that at the end of the day I'm totally exhausted but feel like a million bucks, but some days I go shopping, make food, putz around the garden, spend quality time with the hammock - you get the picture. By the time I go back to work I'm satisfied that things are taken care of on the home front.

When we're on holiday it's generally go go go - there's a pressure to take in as much as possible and not waste your time (and money). The search for quality experiences puts an invisible gun to my head every time, so I feel like I have to fill every hour with some sort of genuine local-flavour-filled encounter.

Another factor in my defense of the stay-cation is that I am generally satisfied where I am. There are people out there who really get a kick out of travelling to new places and seeking thrilling experiences. I am not one of them. Don't get me wrong: some of my favourite moments were pulling off the highway somewhere in Austria to explore a deserted castle on a mountaintop, or driving through the 'desert' near Otterlo, in the Netherlands with my grandmother and her sister, or hiking the lizard's back trail in Fernie BC, or trying foie gras for the first time at a bistro in Paris. It's just that I love my home so much, love my community so much, that I take great pleasure in exploring the areas around me. I can spend hours looking at weeds. I can hike the same trails over and over and always find something new to look at. I can go into my town and catch up with old friends at the grocery store. I can walk the dog and meet new neighbors. I can share my home with friends, like we did the other night when we inadvertently served a 'local' dinner made of fresh-caught perch, home-grown potatoes and basil and tomatoes. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm really into the intensity of a local experience, to immersing myself in my community and my environment rather than striking out into foreign territory. It doesn't hurt that I live in what I consider one of the most beautiful places on earth, and I can't see my neighbors from my deck.

Also I'm afraid of planes.

Ah Rosie.

Today I am the proud owner of a brand new black eye.

We went out last night, to our friends' place for dinner. We had a really terrific time and stayed out a bit too late, so Rosie was extra happy to see me when we picked her up at my mom's place.

I bent down to clip her leash on, while at the same time she decided to hop up and give me a little kiss. We collided mid-air - she felt nothing, while I felt a searing pain in my eye socket and my lower lip. The lip's fine - just a nick - but she split the skin on my eye-bag and now I have one extra-baggy, slightly grey eye. Gorgeous. I put makeup on it but it still looks funny - slightly waxy, if that makes any sense, and grey even through the makeup.

She means well, my Rosie. I can't blame her. We do, however, have to curb her habit of jumping up on people. Usually she's fine with me - she makes no fuss when I greet her in the morning - but she hops all over hubby and all over strangers too, unless they ignore her completely. She can really put on a show. Often this hopping is accompanied by piddling, which I thought was over but she's doing it again.

This is now the main problem with Rosie. I think that's pretty good - we've managed to get rid of the biting, the attacking in the evenings, and her cat-attacks. Hubby cured the last one - mostly - by scaring the bejeezus out of her when she does it. He'll grab something flattened in the recycling (a cereal box or milk carton) and run over in a huff, and smack it on the ground near the ruckus until she stops. She is instantly contrite, and goes and sits quietly by herself. Hubby waits a couple of minutes and then goes and makes up with her. He only had to do this like three times before she got the message, and now she leaves Loki mostly alone. She still mauls him a bit by way of greeting but it's not mean-spirited, and he doesn't mind too much. All we have to do is say "no, Rosie" or "Rosie, be nice" in a warning tone and she gets it.

She would still steal food given half a chance. We've become experts at keeping all food out of reach, but she still will hop up and lick plates on the counter, or eat the cat food off the table when we're not looking. That's an ongoing problem, but one that is linked to her species and breed, which is a tough signal to break. She is very food-motivated, and we keep most food away from her, given her history of colitis. She really loves bread but I am trying to keep her from eating wheat, which I suspect aggrevates her situation.

She does a bunch of other stuff that I don't find problematic but others might: she still pulls on the leash, but more often than not the leash is TOO slack - it gets caught around her front legs. She also just seems to enjoy walking at the limit of her leash, which doesn't really count - she'll walk easily at the limit of a 4' leash, a 6' leash, or a 16' leash. She drinks out of the toilet - so we make sure to flush well and clean it often. Once in a while, she'll pee on the floor if we miss her pleas to go outside. No problem, that's what cleaning products are for.

She's still jealous of the cats, but it subsides quickly when given equal loving. She's starting to leave us alone while we eat dinner, though she still begs a bit and comes nosing around, and has taken to lying on the floor and moaning until we're done just for attention. It's quite comical. She usually comes when called, except when she's on a mission. She's starting to get it when we yank her off of dead frogs etc. in the road, or cat poo, or something else that she (disgustingly) wants to put in her mouth. She's excellent in the car - but that's due to the gate. She doesn't whine and either sits and looks out the window (which is all smeary now - I should clean it) or she sleeps. She is satisfied to be tied on her rope while we do our construction stuff outside, as long as she knows we haven't left (we never leave her unattended). She still lays on the couch - even when completely muddy or wet - but I have to just be vigilant to keep a blanket or a sheet on it, and I wash the cushions regularly. She's pretty well-behaved on the couch so I have no problem with it; she mostly just sleeps, or chews on a bone or something, or cuddles and lets us give her tummy rubs.

Her vocabulary's coming along as well: she now knows sit, down, come, Loki, Dad, pee, water, hungry?, apple, bone, ball, tummy (sort of), gramma, stay, no, off, and maybe car.

So for an 8-month (TODAY!)-old dog, I think she's doing pretty well. And so are we! Black eye and all.

Harvest time, a time for reflection (cue the music).

Well it's the end of August, and I hate to say it, but it's harvest time again. Not that I hate harvest time, but it means that the nights are getting colder and every morning when I wake up, I can see my breath, and half expect to see frost on the deck. This weekend I went to Rona and purchased a 50' roll of heavy-duty clear plastic, because it looks like all my little green tomatoes need a bit of protection if they're going to get red without first getting frostbite. I'm tired of dragging old sheets all over my yard.

It's been a weird year. It rained pretty much every day through June, July, and early August, so we had a billion slugs and juuuust not enough sun for some of the fruits and veggies. However, I suspect the rain played a part in one of my greatest successes of the year, the plums. Remember how I always lament the troubles I have with the plums? Well they're far from perfect, but I have a lot of them, and the ones that are ready to eat are delicious. Behold:

There were two factors this year that may have contributed to their success: I pruned off all the useless, plum-less branches early on, and we had a lot of rain. I'm going to try to water the tree extra next year (if it's not rainy like 08) and see what happens.

However, the rain, paired with a not-perfect planting site, prevented me from growing any pumpkins. This was going to be a monumental year for pumpkins but I think the site I chose got too shady once the surrounding sumacs got to full-size, and the soil may not have been rich enough. It's tough to find a sunny site in my yard where pumpkins can grow to their full glory. I have a few ideas for next year but it means a lot of work. I didn't get so much as a baby pumpkin this year - nor did I see hide nor hair of squash. The melons never made it past seedling stage. I have to learn that surrounding plants grow bigger faster and choke things out easily - I don't know why it's taken me this long to figure that out, I guess I'm a slow learner.

It's not all doom and gloom, though, by far. Behold the beautiful things I harvested this weekend (plus the onions that I harvested over the course of about 2 weeks):
I am in love with those purple potatoes. Digging them up I felt like an archeologist, digging up jewelled egyptian beetles or something. They're iridescent. They far outgrew the 'Russet Burbank' yellow potatoes I grew (see the photo - they're the weenie ones) so they are the stars of the show. However, I served up all the tiny potatoes for dinner that day, and the russets did taste a bit better and cook up more elegantly - the purple ones are floury and go a bit soft for my liking. They also do not make great french fries.

I got two tomatoes but when I turned my back, Rosie ate one. Well, she sort of only mangled it while using it as a ball, but it was inedible so I let her have it. I got another three later on though, along with the remaining leathery beans. The garlic you see in the photo is the world's most potent garlic. I made a greek-inspired dinner on Saturday when a friend came over (and we lost power for 8 hours - I did it all on the BBQ), and I made chicken souvlaki-like skewers with garlic, yoghurt tzaziki-like sauce with garlic, greek-like salad with garlic in the sauce, and I used one clove in total. And had wicked garlic breath the next morning. So tread cautiously with my garlic. I take heart that I will finally rid myself of that pesky vampire problem that's been plagueing my household.

This poor guy grew through the fence. I am such a softie that I cut the fence to free him. My dad said "why the heck didn't you just cut the cucumber?" but I am not like that. The fence is not living. Now he's got an awesome studded collar and is the envy of all the other cukes.
Quietly, in the background of all of this, the grapes have been staging a silent coup on my deck. They almost ran off with the BBQ but I caught them red-handed.
I am wise to their tricks:

Maybe I'll have a Lucille Ball moment and make my own wine? Why not? I already make cider, how different could it be? The vines are heavy with grapes this year. Speaking of cider, here's the apple tree:

turn your head to look at it.

Hubby insists we have a much lower yield this year but I think he's being alarmist. I think we'll have plenty. Besides, we talked about getting some wild apples off the neighbors to increase the variety of apples used (ergo, increasing the complexity of our cider) so it won't matter in the end. We'll still be able to fill two carboys. He forgets that after making cider last year, I still had two pailfuls of apples in the downstairs fridge for ages and ages - long enough that they became like little shrunken heads. I should have carved them all up into faces and left them in the fridge for effect. I ended up throwing them into the snow for the deer, but the squirrels got them first.

I guess that's that. I have basil too, and thai basil, though not a bumper crop as I've had in previous years. I had a truckload of cilantro, and there were some strawberries early on. I have tiny beets that I still don't know how to prepare, and I have a few clumps of swiss chard as well. There are more cucumbers to come - the vines are escaping the garden, into the lawn - and the tomatoes are ripening. The marigolds and nasturtiums did really really well and got enormous. My peppers were dismal this year - the little ones I got got eaten by something, even though I did use diatomaceous earth. I think it was the rain and the lack of sun. The leeks are still in the garden but I don't know what to do with them. I may cut them off and thin them out and leave them for next year, to see what happens. They came back bigger this year, maybe they'll be the right size next. I still have ground cherries ripening - those are my little gardening snack for while I'm weeding, pulling out spent plants, etc. I also managed to get rhubarb well into summer, and hope that picking it will increase next year's yield.

Now that things are being removed from the garden, I have to space out the strawberries a bit better, weed the whole thing, and try to control where the cilantro drops its seeds.

So here's the list of things I'm going to do next year, and things I will leave behind:

- Plant squash and melons in a sunny, dedicated, well-fertilized spot.

- start tomatoes sooner, and harden them off better.

- Plant peppers in pots, not in the garden. Be vigilant.

- Get the leeks out of there.

- Plant more beans, so I can harvest more than 6 at a time.

- Plant more spinach (I may do that this weekend actually).

- Plant some things that ripen early and make decent side dishes.

- Plant russet gold potatoes earlier and leave them in the ground longer. Plant purples later and take them out at the same time.

- Plant more onions and garlic. Put them among everything. Leave them in the ground longer.

- Plant more basil.

- Maybe try romaine lettuce again?

- Don't attempt corn.

- Try asparagus again.

In conclusion, it looks like the veggie garden itself next year will be tomatoes, basil, onions, garlic, cukes, spinach, romaine lettuce, strawberries and beans. That's pretty traditional but fine with me. In pots I'll have peppers, and potatoes will be in the potato bin, and the squash and melons will be elsewhere, likely with the asparagus (if that works). I will also invest in a pear tree, to put up near my (recovering) cherry tree, and take good care of the existing plums and apples. I may also try blueberries, but I already have a decent blueberry source so what the heck. Why add to my workload?

Besides, next summer has the potential to be really busy, but that's another story.

A Reprieve

This past New Year’s Eve, my hubby and I received a little bit of bittersweet news. Hubby’s Aunt had passed away in the U.K. (in November – we knew this), and the official legal letter we got in the mail was announcing to us that Hubby is a beneficiary – one of nine – of her estate.

These things are kind of awkward to me. They’re sad occasions that come with good news, so the accompanying emotions are really mixed up. I have never specifically received an inheritance, to speak of. My grandmother passed away in 2003 and left me $100, which was very touching. It was nice to have been thought of, as I am one of 10 grandkids. My parents got a lot more, and used it to buy a behemoth boat, dubbed the “Thanks Mom”, which we have all enjoyed for 5 years. When my great uncle died, he left it all to my dad (+mom) and his siblings (+ spouses), so that generation got to divvy it up as they saw fit. It was once again a pretty generous amount (he was a single dude with investments), so my parents shared with us, giving each kid $2,000 at Christmastime. That was a terrific gift that made me cry like a baby, and I promptly invested the whole amount. It lost a bunch of money (thanks Scotiabank!) but is now bouncing back.

So when this letter came, our imaginations did two things: raced forward to the highest dollar amount possible, and then put the brakes on. We had no idea. We didn’t want to count our chickens. We wanted to take the time to process it, and to honour his aunt accordingly, as it was quite unexpected and very touching. My husband has a small and distant family – the surviving members are a hoot and I love them very much, but they live in Austria, Germany, England, Calgary – but he has not much in the way of safety net and is, technically and financially, an orphan. An orphan who was left on his own, in much debt, right out of university, with zero assets.

This gift-from-above represents, to me, his family finally looking after him in a financial way that a lot of the rest of us can usually count on throughout our lives, doled out as money for books, help with tuition, first month’s rent, borrowing the car, etc. This is his net. As he is still, unfortunately, swimming in student loans, this net could help him get out of the water.

Then the other day, we finally received the letter detailing dollar amounts. It was more than we’d imagined, even at our highest estimates. This influx is finally enough to get us out of debt (though we will keep our mortgage), meaning that there are no more student loans, no more car payments, no more renovation payments, and that we are now the proud owners of a 14’ fishing boat with trailer and all the trimmings. My husband is a happy camper. I am a happy camper. We are in celebration mode.

And on top of all of that debt-canceling, the best part is, we can finally start looking for a piece of cottage property to start working on our dream: a home-made cottage, to be used by our family, friends, and perhaps renters, on a lake where hubby can fish and I can dive off the dock, knowing that week after week the dock is mine to dive off of. This dream is still years in the distance, but I can now taste it. And do you know what? It tastes like mojitos, barbecued chicken and ribs, fresh-caught fried fish, crisp salads, and cedar.

Thank you Eileen.

Six months later....

Hey guys, remember this?

That's Rosie, sitting there acting all demure and quiet, with Tonka's big rear end in her face. Well, six months makes a lot of difference in the life of a dog (or two). Here's a shot of Rosie and Tonka now, at 7 months old, fishing for the beluga whales printed on the bottom of the pool:

It would be a bit more than one could handle, if these two weren't the sweetest dogs alive. Rosie is 58 lbs., Tonka's around 75.

Also...

...Today marks three years of wedded bliss. And is this my 100th post? I do believe it is. Congratulations to me.

Something expensive is afoot

I had a new experience yesterday. I like to document all new experiences in some way, and since the doctor didn't let me keep my x-rays, I figured I'd write about it here.

For awhile now, I have had a sore foot. My family doctor called it a hallux valgus, but when I told that to the podiatrist's receptionist, she said "you mean a bunion?", which made me feel much less dramatic. I prefer the latin name.

I made the appointment ages ago and finally, yesterday, I had to figure out where it was and make my way there. Turns out it was quite far out of the downtown core, and so I had to take the bus to get there. I am not a bus person. The bus freaks me out - I am constantly worried that I took the wrong bus, that I missed my correct bus, that I will miss my stop, or that I won't get out of the bus in time when it does stop. I tend to sit near the doors and pay close attention. I have also learned that some bus routes are more civilized than others. On this particular stretch, we passed two hospitals - one of them the local mental hospital - and the front of the bus became an entangled mess of walkers, strollers, and people switching seats to allow the elderly or troubled passengers to sit down. I stuck to the back.

This bus smelled like a mix of exhaust and halitosis. I sat next to a nice elderly gentleman, I'll call him Italian (his sandals looked Italian), who was returning home with his recent purchase, a DVD copy of a Verdi opera. He was a largish man, however, and our hips were squeezed together a bit uncomfortably, a fact that neither of us was willing to acknowledge as the bus lurched side to side. I picked him as my seatmate because he was relatively nicely dressed and his hair seemed clean, and didn't look like he would smell bad, which was more than I could say for the rest of my fellow passengers. I stared out the window with great purpose for at least 15 blocks before my predicted stop, and then pulled a move typical of me: so worried that I would miss my stop, I got out four blocks earlier than I needed to. I tried to seem casual as I walked behind my bus, waiting in traffic, and watched as the other passengers got off up ahead, right where I needed to be.

Anyway, I finally got into the waiting room of the podiatrist's office, and filled out the form. I have had so many specialists in my day that I know this form well: allergies to any medication? Nope. Any of the following conditions? Only athsma. Any perscription meds? Only ventolin. I like this form. I was a dentist-surfer for years so I have filled it out many times. The one at my current dentist's office is super-detailed; it takes a good 20 minutes to fill it out and asks about every disease under the sun. This one was simple, though - I was done in about 2 minutes. I guess they don't really care about your athsma when they're working on your feet.

I sat and waited. And waited and waited. I picked a seat next to the magazines but this made me sit directly across from a woman and right next to a man, and we were all really concerned with not letting our feet or elbows touch the whole time - not an easy feat, this was the tightest waiting room I'd ever seen.

I got in to see the doctor and it was pretty quick, being that I was their last patient of the day. I actually had to ask him to slow down at one point as I wasn't catching what he was saying (next stop, the hearing centre next door). Consultation, x-rays, talk of orthotics, then they made plaster casts of my feet, which was super fun. I doubt I will get those back. There was a nurse there who croaked "I'm real bossy. Been here 35 years. Put your feet here, hon, and stand like that. OK hon, now let's do the other foot. OK hon, that's great sweetie, thanks." The next one told me that none of the nurses there were married.

Turns out my feet are collapsing under the great weight of my body as I lumber through life. OK I'm joking, I'm not that heavy, but for some reason the tops of my feet are losing their structural integrity, causing my hallux valgus (or bunion, as others may choose to call it) and forming little claws on the backs of my heels, like Rosie's dewclaws. I went home with a piece of rubber strapped to the bottom of my foot and moped around all evening like a lame horse, even though nothing had really changed in the course of my day. My cruel husband still let me make dinner.

These orthotics are going to set me back $635. Only $300 of it is covered by the cheap bastards at my work, so I'm on the hook for $335. I figure it's better than surgery, though my mother reminds me that with surgery I get two weeks off work. You don't get time off for orthotics. I am nervous that I will never wear stylish shoes again, as I do love my high heels, but I figure I'll cheat for special occasions.

Bottom line is: getting old is expensive. Specialists are expensive. Thank god the ship is coming in (slowly), but that's a story for another day.

Another post with zero pictures

I always forget my camera, or my cables, or both, so you are treated to another post with no pictures.

I just got back from the kind of weekend where one needs a few days of nothing but water and lemon juice to clean out one's pipes. I actually overheard one jolly fellow say "I'm gonna have this cigarette then go find my pants." It was that kind of weekend. I found myself unable to stop disco dancing beside a campfire, which is unusual behaviour for me. At least I wasn't alone.

And my dog was kind of embarrassing. She was generally very well-behaved and sweet. However, she ate the following non-dog-food items this past weekend: the steak right off of someone's plate three doors down, a big chunk of banana cake with cream cheese icing, potato salad, a turkey burger, pieces of a tofu-and-jerk-chicken skewer, and a bunch of random buns and chips. Needless to say, we were at the vet last night dealing with a bit of gastric upset, manifested in scary poos. Sorry, too much information. And a warning: dogs are expensive.

We shared a cabin with my girlfriend Fiona (jeweller extraordinaire, who re-made my engagement ring after last year's mishap) and her hysterically funny partner Dom. Who is english, and could preface anything with "Dahling" and make it sound sweet. They brought their pooch and the doggies got along famously, and they also brought their very loud sound system. We had a lot of cocktails and partied to the wee hours and busted a gut laughing, which felt like a million bucks. At one point, the cabin beside us was briefly (2 songs?) transformed into a nightclub, complete with couch-dancing and flashlight strobes. Good times. We called it the Canadian Shield Dance Party and I'm sure the noise of it carried across the lake like crazy and irritated all the rich cottagers.

This weekend we're having a gathering at our place and I'm a bit worried. About the weather, about people not coming, and about the little black food thief. I think it might be embarrassing. I may have to tie her up on her rope, which she won't like, which will make her bark, or if there are no other dogs there I may get Grandma and Grandpa to take her for the night.

Onto the requisite garden talk: Remember when I said I didn't have any grapes? I lied - they were just hiding. I have a LOT of grapes. I don't know what they will taste like or whether they'll make it, hiding from the birds and the bugs, but I look forward to trying. Also I still have some plums on the tree, and they're getting larger, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I will at least have a few.

The veggies are great and there's no sign of cucumber beetles yet (knock on wood), though I would like it to stop being so damp out so the slug-fest can end. I hate the damn slugs. Pretty soon I will be pulling up potatoes, garlic, and onions, and will be able to start eating beans soon enough as well. I have baby tomatos and the peppers are getting ready to do their thing, so I am getting the diatomaceous earth tomorrow. Pumpkins are in full bloom and are awesome, though I don't think they like this rainy dark weather either. The rest is a bit of a messy jungle. When fall comes I will move the strawberries around a bit because I planted them too tightly. I should also rip out the borage before it drops seeds, because I am really starting to resent it.

Hey can everyone who reads this post leave a comment of some sort? I think I'm yodelling into the darkness here.

What's my name? Where do I work again?

(Sigh). I'm back at work.

(pffffffffffffft. That's the sound of me being deflated). I have been back now for 4 days, and I think it was a terrible idea. I should have taken 3 weeks off. Except I had a lot to do this week and next week, they're sending me to Winnipeg on a 6 a.m. flight. In Gennyland math, that means I have to get up at 4, and leave the house at 4:30.

Complain complain complain.

Vacation ended, not a whole heck of a lot got done on the house but we're in good shape, I cleaned it about 48 times - or rather, swept the floors 48 times - and spent a bunch of time sitting on my arse. Summer's in full swing now, so I don't spend a lot of time in the garden, which is ironic. I almost can't - it's been taken over by borage and that stuff is prickly. I dislike it. I am slowly ripping it out, as I discover it smothering or shading my prized peppers, tomatoes, beans, and other things you can actually eat.

So far everything's doing really well, though I am worried about the lack of blooms so far. The tomatoes are blooming, sort of, and the beans have started, but the squash and cukes are still bare. The bonus is that I haven't seen any cucumber beetles yet. The pumpkins are ready to burst forth with new life; I think there will be blooms by this weekend. Sunday - I'm calling it. I will let you know. They're doing really really well.

Therefore, I really hope that frost comes late this year, because it seems I will have a lot of things on the vine in September. Thems squash need time to get big and the plants are still teensy.

Cilantro's completely taken everything over, but I'm going to start ripping it out because it's all gone to flower. Next year maybe I'll start anew, and have it grow only where I want it to grow. I guess I can plant it in the fall - or just scatter the seeds willy-nilly, which seems to work just fine.

Lettuce is getting ready to bolt but I continue to eat it - this variety doesn't seem to go bitter, which is really nice. Usually I miss my lettuce by waiting too long. We've been putting it on everything but could have salads every night for 2 weeks on my supply. Swiss chard is coming up, so before it gets big I'm going to have to figure out what the heck one does with Swiss chard. The peppers look like they're ready to bloom - the plants are short but stocky and dark green and hardy-looking, so I'm happy about that, seeing as I grew them from seed. Now I need diatomaceous earth to keep the earwigs out, those slimy little bastards. I'm disappointed in the output of my rhubarb - the stalks were all skinny, so I didn't pull them out, and now the leaves are all spotting and withering. It does this every year. I think it's very old, possibly spent. Maybe I need to rip it out and plant a new rhubarb bush in a new spot for next year.

I have plums. Not many clean ones but I have plums. The tree was filled to the brim with them, but they've slowly begun succumbing to the same disease they get every year, but I have my fingers crossed that because I had so many green ones, there will be at least a few that make it this year. I am encouraged by this not to rip the tree down, but to try to fix it for next year. The trick to the great output seems to have been to cut off all the non-producing branches, because the tree itself seems to be quite happy. I'm not sure if it's a disease, or bugs (curculio? caterpillars?), or something nutritionally wrong - or all three frankly - but I'd like to get a professional opinion before this happens again next year.

The flower gardens are typical of my summer flower gardens - messy, weedy, the large plants are in the front and the small plants are in the back, being dwarfed. I am no landscape architect or garden designer. My interest in horticulture is scientific, I seem to have zero aesthetic abilities. Why would anyone put Veronica in the front? Shasta daisies? To be fair, I think those migrated, but still. Now I have to wait until they're done blooming to move them to the back. Meanwhile, I had columbines at one point, but I have no idea what happened to them, and my hens and chicks have been engulfed. The whole thing is shot through with quack grass and these unruly prickly things with yellow flowers that get tall, and of course raspberries. The dread black raspberries, which tangle everything up. I need to trellis them but have of course been too lazy to do so.

I had a ton of grapes but now I have none. Bugs? Birds? Whatever, now I have tons of grape stems. Probably for the best, grapes are poisonous to dogs.

Anyway, that's the yard update. I have to whippersnip because it hasn't been done in a month and everything's shaggy. I figure, since my house is under construction and I am back at work, that's the least of my concerns.

Notes from afar

Okay, not exactly afar. This ain't exactly travel writing. The vacation’s been pretty good so far. Not ideal weather-wise, but I have managed to get some stuff crossed off of the “objectives” list, and when I take the time to reflect on it, I am quite relaxed. For the most part.

The main plot points of the vacation can be summed up thusly:
Golf tournament, reading, spaying, sleeping, painting, construction, windows, beer, money, hammock, mosquitoes, satellite dish collar, turkey cookies, and bad hair.

To elaborate, I have finished my book, The Yiddish Policeman’s Union, and finished knitting the sleeve of my sweater. I got new windows installed in the living room. Rosie got spayed on Thursday and now is miserable in her satellite dish collar, but is otherwise fine. After a couple of weeks of diarrhea and a morning of vomiting, whatever was in her system seems to have left the building and she’s fit as a fiddle. We’ve learned to feed her more slowly by adding water to her kibble, and have cut down on the green peppers which are apparently hard to digest. However, I did buy some beef rib bones at the butcher and smoked them myself, and she enjoyed those quite a bit. I’m sure the bones are still kicking around here somewhere. The whole house has a sort of mesquite scent to it now.

The renovations are coming along. I’m not too stressed about it, for some strange reason. I’m just picking away at it and somehow it’s getting done, sort of. I guess we’re going to have to start going gangbusters this week – we’ve put up one piece of siding, have stained a few more, and are now well on our way. I spray-painted the patio door red, which was pretty successful.

The flower gardens are popping like mad these days. The yellow iris just faded and the peonies are on their way out, but the delphiniums are opening up and the tiger lilies are on their way. I let the pale yellow cinquefoil take over the garden this year – I usually pull it out since it’s considered a weed – and it’s highlighting everything very nicely. It may stay.

In the veggie garden, the tomatoes and peppers are still small, and the beans are also struggling a bit. We need more hot weather. It has rained every single day since I’ve been off work, which is good for the garden in some respects but not so good in others. I seem to have a slug farm on my hands. I hate slugs so much you have no idea, so this doesn’t make me so cheerful. Last night I got one stuck in my Croc and it squished between my toes every time I took a step – I was not a happy camper.

Yesterday was rainy, so we cleaned out the freezer a bit and made dog cookies out of leftover thanksgiving turkey. We enjoyed a 19-lb grain-fed free-range turkey from hubby’s co-worker, to feed three people, so there was a little bit of turkey left over. We have enough to make cookies for pretty much the whole year. She loves them, so phew, but it was quite a process to make them, and it turned my stomach thoroughly; I may never eat turkey again.

Oh, I also got a dog gate for the car. This was an adventure because when I brought it home and started to set it up, I discovered that it was missing some essential parts, but also contained half of a chlorine testing kit. So we promptly returned it to Canadian Tire and replaced it. I installed it yesterday – it looks very dog-person-y.

I have not been dieting or cleansing. I have been eating beer, chips, hot dogs, cookies, grilled cheese sandwiches, wine, French fries, and a lot of steak. So scratch that one of the list. Construction workers need to eat hearty fare.

I’ve started to finish the inside of the window in the living room. Oh hell, I’m almost done. I am staining the shelf I built, which is taking forever. Reminds me I have to go down and put on a second coat when I’m finished this.

I have seen movies: I’ve seen 2 Days in Paris, which was quite funny, and The Other Boleyn Girl, which I thought was a rushed version of the book and didn’t love so much. Natalie Portman was excellent, Scarlett Johansson looked hangdog the whole time – she literally only had one expression, and in my humble opinion she shouldn’t do any more period films where they remove her eyebrows. It’s not a good look for her. And they should have used the guy who played Henry Percy to be the one Mary ends up with (Stafford?), not the weenie-looking kid they did cast. Disappointing all in all, though it could have been so much more. I think the story's way too long to be a movie.

I’ll post vacation photos when I’m back at work. I’m on dial-up at home, so can’t upload a damn thing unless I’ve got 4 hours to spare. I’m off to stain a shelf.

Objectives

This afternoon I have a meeting with my new boss to discuss my work objectives for 2008-09. I think this is the final step in our performance appraisal process, which is very long and drawn out and has been happening since the beginning of April and with two bosses.

In the spirit of objective-setting, I herewith set out my objectives for 'Summer Vacation 2008'. If you will recall, my objectives last year were lofty and ambitious, so this year I hope to go a bit easier on myself. Let's see what I've got planned:

- Finish reading The Yiddish Policemen's Union by Michael Chabon;
- Finish knitting the sleeve of the sweater I've struggled with since Christmas;
- Renovations! Get windows installed, do front of house;
- Deep-clean closets;
- Finish some notes for Green committee at work;
- Do work for Green committee;
- Rosie spayed (june 26);
- Go camping?
- Purchase a dog gate for the car;
- Build lattice wall on deck;
- Stake tomatoes, delphiniums, etc.;
- Get a tan;
- Move living room furniture around. Maybe;
- Visit friends - at least two;
- Diet/cleanse. I've been eating a lot of bad stuff lately;
- Make food (granola, ice cream, bread);
- Watch at least three movies;
- Finish off inside of living room window, with a shelf;
- Download music;
- Attend some Bluesfest shows.

I am sure there's going to be more to add, but this is a good start. I have 1.5 days of work left until vacation, and 5 meetings within those 1.5 days. Sigh. I also still have to buy some accessories (earrings and necklace) for the wedding I'm attending tomorrow afternoon. I am a busy girl.

Photographic evidence

I've been trying and trying to properly document my growing garden, but with minimal success. Trust, when you look at these pictures, that either the colours are off or they're invariably duller than they look in real life. With that in mind, may I present "Garden Pairings 2008":

These are the coral bells and jacob's ladder, against growing veronica, with a bit of hosta and peony in the background. Pretty typical stuff, only this time with more weeds.

Columbines showing their stuff to the tulips who'd recently lost their blooms. How rude.

I am in love with these dark-leaved coral bells, especially with that purplish sage, and when the centaurea comes out, as in this photo, watch out! Though the centaurea is a victim of over-exposure in this shot.

And this is my pièce de résistance: the Siberian iris/poppy/marigold combination. Some might find this tacky but I just think it's happy. Those people are not invited to my yard.

Here we have the overall veggie-garden effect, as seen from the deck. Pardon the hose - I give it a quick spritz every morning, at least until the rains come (tomorrow).

And here's a little miracle:

The squash that wouldn't start in my grow op under lights, are doing JUST FINE since I 'discarded' their 'empty pods' in this neglected seed tray. I'm going to leave this out and see what else decides to show it's face. Looks like those pods at the bottom of the shot have something going on as well. See? It PAYS not to clean up properly! Also in this photo: my epidemic of cilantro and borage. Sigh. What the hell do you do with borage? It's so messy.

I'll take more pics as the garden comes up. For right now, I am happy with the progress we're making. My tomatoes seem to have bounced back and gotten hardy and everything else's just trucking along. Now what to do with all these squash seedlings.....

Advance warning

This is an advance warning that lots of garden pictures will be coming your way very soon.

Mid-June is the very nicest time in the garden, I think. The vegetables are all still tiny and manageable and there aren't too many bugs infesting them yet, and the flowers are starting to really pop. Everything's still clean - nothing's gone out of control as of yet, but it's only a matter of time.

Currently, I am enjoying the contrast of my hot red poppies next to my deep purple siberian irises, against the backdrop of the orange marigolds in the veggie garden. My eyeballs aren't big enough.

Today or tomorrow, the yellow iris that I transplanted into my upper perennial bed will bloom for the first time, against the deep purple of the centaurea and, if it sticks around, the hot pink of my gorgeous peonies. Seriously, the camera can't even capture it. I've been taking pictures of nice garden pairings but then when I look at them, they all seem drab on-screen. My brother's girlfriend got a nice digital SLR camera, and takes the most gorgeous flower pictures, so maybe I'll have to hire her out for an evening, ply her with alcohol or something.

In the veggie garden, I am also experiencing moderate success: The garlic's trucking along, but I haven't seen hide nor hair of the neighboring corn yet. Maybe that won't work out, but that's not a tragedy; there's enough corn in the world and I don't even really like eating it that much. The tomatoes are bouncing back, growing themselves some dark green, hardy, outdoor leaves - the nicest ones are the ones I bought off of the little boy at the garage sale.

I think the basil that I transplanted is ok, but it's so tiny still that I can't be sure when looking at it from a distance. I haven't been through the gate since the weekend. 2 of my 3 cucumbers are doing well, the third had it's leaves eaten off by something (sluggy?) but may still bounce back. I had no success with the squash that I started in the grow-op, but stuck the remaining 5 seeds directly into the ground, and they've grown and are happy to be there. The lettuce is coming along, spinach is almost ready to eat, and I have a ton of cilantro. The beans are up, and the beets are doing well, and I may have a nice little crop of strawberries this year as well. My nasturtiums are poking their adorable little leaves out of the ground, and I have mounded up my potatoes already. May have to do it again this weekend, they're growing so fast in this weather. 5 of my 6 pumpkins are doing really well, and even the one that Rosie yanked out of the ground is bouncing back ok. I am considering spreading compost over the rows and then covering them with straw once the plants are a bit bigger - but we'll see. Damn I love the veggie garden in June. August... not so much but in June I am full of enthusiasm.

And the best part is, I've reached the point where there's very little to do aside from management. I've been spending a lot of time in my hammock, just watching the apples grow. Weeding, top-dressing and mounding, staking, bug control, and harvesting, that's about all I have to worry about until fall. I do have to clean up the grow-op though - it's a filthy disaster.

It's been so hot and humid these days (but raining at night - perfect for the garden) that Rosie doesn't know what to do with herself. We've moved her crate into the darker, cooler back room and put a fan on it, so she's ok during the day, but she really doesn't want to play sillybuggers outside much these days in the heat and the bugs. Life's hard for a black dog in summertime. So, we are going to the nearby lake a lot. I got her one of these:

It's called a Wubba and it's a hollow lightweight Kong, covered in neoprene, which floats really well. She LOVES it. I got the bright yellow one, so it's not easy to lose sight of, and the little tassles make it really easy to throw far, even for a klutz like me. She dives in so inelegantly after it, it's worth the $10 I spent on it in laughs alone. I'm an idiot for this dog.

Look at that curly butt! How could you not want to buy toys for it!?

Funny thing: when you get a 9-lb puppy in your arms who's a mix of two breeds, you're never really sure what you're going to end up with. I was convinced she was all lab. Her mum's a golden retriever, and in this shot you can see it. Usually she looks more like a black lab, save for this longer, curly coat. I adore it. I snuggle my face into this coat at least three times a day. I crave the smell of this fur all day when I'm at work. She is so handsome too, just perfectly proportioned, perfectly athletically put together. I would take credit, but I didn't birth this creature - she's someone else's miracle. I just get to watch her grow, which is pure pleasure. Bittersweet though, I do miss that tiny 9 lb pup. She was so damn cute.

I'll post pictures tomorrow... someone has to do some work around here.