Big hooks and little tales....

Yes, that's right... a big hook it was, and here's the tale.....It's not ghoulish, nor scary, although it could quite easily turned into such a thing. The Pipster-who wanted most desperately to be the most beautiful princess of the universe ever. Certainly that wish could be granted. All I had to do was to come up with the ultimate in fine costume design. (Since she doesn't fall into the princess of the universe category by default... although she thinks that of herself all the same)... well, there's only 31 days in October... and time was not of the essence... I had lots of time to design the ultimate Princess dress. Well, that was until it became the eve of a school party... and also the night of all my favourite shows. This is the one night where I will sit and watch TV for three hours... and do chores during the commercials. Now I have to say, I do love my kids.. a lot... I am there for them in every way... except on Thursday nights...because I am with my television shows. At the beginning of the month when I was busy computing the number of days in the month of October.. I failed to factor in the Thursday night viewing obsession. Shameful yes, but truthful, (pat's herself on the back). I began to feel a bit trembly in the knees... as I approached the Pipsters Princess Kingdom ... and offer up the "NEXT BEST THING" to being a princess of the universe..(after I had mucked about with a lavender witch hat turned princess hat with yellow hair).. Yes, my great idea was ....... "why don't you be this lovely and beautiful warm black cat... that you wore last year?" The Pipster immediately took to the idea... in fact thought it was a priceless idea.... in fact she was enthralled with being a cat.. again. The best part.... I had bought her a pink feather boa... and I had broken the news to her that we would not be able to add the feather boa to her Princess of the Universe Dress/Costume... it didn't fit the ensemble. But now... this year, she will be the fanciest jeweled and pink boa'd black cat on the streets of Port Coquitlam. Yes.... I'm big time off the hook big time on this little tale.

FYI

2 litres of water on a cold rainy night...I'm freaking frozen. Now that I have drank a bunch of excessively cold tap water I am off to the races with emailing the people that I have in my address book. Of course now that my brain is starting to seize I am sending out important messages like this last one:
Hey there;
What's going on in big ol Langley.. tell me your tales.. make me laugh...let me feast my eyes on the highlights of what's going on. Here I'll tell you all my tales...
IT ALL STARTS LIKE THISXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
BUT THENXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
oh and.....XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
AND THEN THERE'S XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
AND THE WORSE IS XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
AND THE END IS XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
But the best of it is XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Glad to keep you in the loop. Take it easy... write back !!! D.

I will disconnect the keyboard now... for everyone's safety.

More water...

Friday night is pool night for the chicklets... pool as in swimming. Lots and lots of swimming. The kind of swimming where my eyes sting from remaining at the pool for close to three hours. I have had great thoughts about entering the pool myself, and swimming laps... but then I would have to compete for space in a lane.. and then risk getting jumped on by the youngish kids that hang around the pool on Friday evenings. It's safer to find a spot and sit and watch the lessons unfold... and the looks on the instructors faces as the people do their lessons. I wish I could see the look on my face when I watch them do their lessons... it's so not pretty.
On a night where people everywhere are dressing up and heading out to events all over the place... I have staked a spot ... right here. Me and my drink for the night... it's very special to me this night.. tonight is the night where I treat myself to a crystal cold clear jug of tapwater. Yes, it's hard to believe that it's crystal, cold and clear and comes from the tap... but that's as exciting as it's going to get this night. Life in the fast lane.. I can hardly keep up.

More scarey things...

I was waiting for the boy to be done his halloween party... so I started looking at the schools textbooks, which were in the bookcase behind me. Remember Dick and Jane, they were still on the shelf. I also found a text book from 1962, and the pictures even found a spot in my brain... I don't remember the title now. I found the same science books that we used in school... (I have had a couple of reunions since graduating).....I am frightened... I am old, and I am reliving past life experiences....let the hallucinations begin.

I had a fight with the car wash

It's always good to spend time at the car wash by yourself. That way when the swearing gets louder, it's only you and the power washer. Does everybody get hit in the face with the connecting brush? Then there was the constant banging of the overhead power washes cord against my white fourteen year old SUV. That drove me nuts... so I looked around then yelled at the hose. Stop making all that freaking noise!!! Oh, and the hilight was where it (automated token machine) told me that you could stop the process... and you would still have time on the clock.... that wouldn't be the case for me. I put it to stop... and stop it did... and it never came back on... so I had to go and buy another token. It's a good thing it's raining out now, and I just drove up the backroad which turns into dirt a portion of the way to get to the back entrance of the park... just to satisfy my curiousity about seeing any bears. None... but I did see a buck and two does... that was cool.
OH.... I was at the stupid store earlier today... buying "The neutralizers" of partyfood... BUGLES... and... when I was at the till, the young fellow with the long ponytail, and slim hands asked if I would like a bag.. I said yes please. When I walked around the side of the till to put the bags of bugles into another bag I asked "Did you get that bag".. to Mr Youngtill..... "what's the magic word he says to me"...."OH, you didn't hear the question I asked" I said..... "DID YOU GET THE BAG?, it's a question for you, there is no response required until YOU answer my question..... ".... he looks at me puzzled. "THANKS" I say to him... I'm a mother... I don't need you to give me manners in being polite. Freak.
I think what's really got me going here is the fact that yesterday... something happened at school for my boy. Which completely pissed me off...something that I spoke to the teacher about weeks and weeks ago, something that I tried to circumvent.... and it all unfolded yesterday... and it's still lingering about today. If it wasn't screaming down with rain I would go rake the leaves on the front lawn, that would make me less crazy. At least I think it would make me less crazy.

What's wrong with that?

Can you really give out the wrong candy on Halloween??? I was pondering this thought while I walked through Costco yesterday. I put in and took out at least ten items for the Halloween event. Really. I just couldn't make up my mind what was the thing that I would want to see most in my loot bag... if I was going out trick or treating that is. I finally decided on Wagonwheels. That would put a smile on my face if I would have one put in my bag.

Speaking of smiling faces... I turned some poor unsuspecting costco shopper ladies smile upside down the other day when she took a wrong turn in the checkout isle. That is the lack of turning that she did not make. She was moving along side of the granola bar section, which I thought she was going to purchase. I cruised up to the checkout counter in an angular fashion. I did not deek out the parallel granola bar lady, and cut her off. But, according to her, I did. Because it was just then that she decided to make a sharp 90 degree turn into the checkout line... which was the till about 15 feet away from her cart. In the meantime, I had made it to the checkout line before her... clearly a case of "you cruise and you will lose".... not only do my thoughts confuse me.. so do people.

When does someone know?

Now that I am unstuck by the blogger-gods, I have had a thought. I try not to come up with too many at a time... they confuse me.

I wrote the other day about "doileys", as a figure of speech. The big question that has me glazed over in thought at the moment is; at what point in your life do you become acquainted with doileys? When is it acceptable to start setting out doileys in your home? Do you have to be a certain age? What if your furniture doesn't match.....but you just start setting them out anyways... ? Do you need to launder the doileys all at the same time so the space doesn't become unbalanced, and all hell breaks loose. Wait a minute, hell is always loose in this home.. anyways, I am confused by this.

I know for certain that when I was growing up we didn't have doileys. Common sense tells me of course that my mother was way too bright to set them out... because my brother would have pulled all of them off their resting spots and hid them underneath the couch, that is all clear to me. But she has doileys now... and I am not clear on their date of arrival into the homeland. I am worried... does that mean that one day they will just spring up un-announced in my home... and then I will be a doiley-dweller because the doiley genes have been passed on to me? I want to know how I walked along so blindly, not noticing laced objects decorating the table tops....what I really want to know is ... did I give my sister money to be a part of a doiley gift-giving? ( She always gift - shops... and then adds the ... want to chip in....)

This of course is a lead up to the next big step.... at what point will I want to put on a starched tablecloth onto my kitchen table.... and have sensible seasonal centrepieces... I NEED TO KNOW THIS !!!!

Looking for some autumn colours. 

Creeping along the field with her babies 

Visiting close to our house. 

Breakthrough...

It is a beautiful fall day outside... I should be finishing up the winterizing chores. But there are so many ghosts hanging around and signs saying to "beware" that I am remaining indoors... locked inside with my vacuum, Muphy's Oil Soap, Mr Clean, Laundry Detergent, Rubber Gloves, an empty coffee pot, Fabric Softener, day old sushi, and music coming from the stereo ... that is making me feel old.... I just heard the song titled "sanctify yourself"....and the artist would be...? See what I mean... I'm a little old lady keeping her little space all squeaky clean and doileed up!! I even vacuumed the dogs... yes, I say both dogs...the oldest likes to be vacuumed... she tends to walk a lot as I vacuum her.. so she is a challenge... and the youngest silliest and most fraidy cat-dog ever let me vacuum her. Which is a far cry from her racing away from the whining red machine a number of years back. Simple minds. Name of the artist, not a description of me!

I think the girl has it....

One last thought.. as I move on to finding the end of the internet. I have a funny boy... he has a very dry odd funny sense of humour... he just has it. But... somehow his sister, The Pipster has found herself a couple of funny bones, in fact I think she has stolen his. This girl and her antics and her words are worth noting. The girl is funny. And not just a blond girl funny. If only I could keep up with her repetoire of words that she uses to describe her escapades and predicaments. I think I'll start calling them "Pippisms"....

The Boy and the Beast.

Boy, it's time for bed... please take your oldest evilest beast of a dog with you. Please. I say that with a grin and a growl, and kind of a grind (of the teeth). I am trying to be kind.

I have to admit the nice part about the above scenario is the end result. My hair is presently straight, that does not happen much, well, ever. I must go immediately to bed... so that it will be tomorrow already... and I will be the mother with the fresh straight look... not the wild haired red-lipped bad wind tunnel effect woman that I am usually viewed as.

Afraid to look....

I am afraid to look at my children. They are scarey little beasts... and somedays this happens without costumes.... these days mind you they are sporting masks and witch hats enough to haunt even the sweetest of dreams. I can't wait until they get loaded with a bucket of candy... and those beastly children will be in true form.. yes, can't wait. Mr. Cleanandtidy scared up the house... so now it's rather spooked too. The girl is frightened of her glowing green skeleton lights that the neighbour lady gave her. The boy is frightened of his alien that is looking out his window. What he doesn't know is that he is the only alien living here... we just haven't told him yet. The real scare of the night crawled out from behind his garbage basket.. in the form of a spider.

The boy is currently practicing his piano... and right now he has turned it to the sound effect of a vibraphone... which is kind of cool.... kind of the sound that you would here from a street musician. "Home on the Range"... fifty times over.... but I am not really counting.

Well hello there ....

Mr Cleanandtidy nicely tidied up the mess in the sink. It was not a big mess... but a little mess all the same. He also brought home a little four pack of my favourites, in fact something that I have not had in quite a while... Smirnoff Ice, for those further out... it's a vodka mixed drink... devine. So much so that I am staring at the empty bottle and not believing that I have already downed it. Just like the bottle of water that I had earlier.. one gulp and its gone. Except now, my fingers are warm.. and that's a good thing.

We all survived the skytrain, science world and three hours at the pool. I was able to throw in the boys sheets and comforters at some point today... and make an outside bed for the 11 year old evilest of queens, because it was pouring rain out... and I didn't want to leave her inside.

So now that its ten oclock at night.. there has to be something on TV.. something.......I can't read my library book... it's was written for people that reside in coffins... it's completley a dead read. I will not do that torturous task again....

If we don't return... this is where we went

It's a Pro-D day for the chicklets. Today will be an interesting day. I have decided that... so that it shall be. WE are going to venture to science world in the next while....but right now the girl is happily sorting her sparkle gel pens, and will be crazy upon knowing this... I will wait to tell her... I will wait until she is done organizing... at least that way she will clean up her mess. The sad news is... I thought I had a coupon out of the entertainment book for this great SPOT. Everything else in Vancouver is willing to put in a coupon of some chincy form... so that tells you where the marketing strategy is... "don't give them break... because they will still come".... sounds very similar to "The Build A Bear" empire... but don't let me start on that.... in fact I will "lift" my notes from Lujza's place on that very thought... not right now mind you. The girl has started her day nutritionally sound... she found a donut from last nights treats, sugar keeps her at peace. So I will have to supplement her foraging with something more responsible along the way. The boy on the otherhand had his standard cheerios, which every morning he asks me to fix. He still doesn't quite get that I am the mother... not his friend the butler, or the cheery maid. It's all a process in learning... one day he may figure it out... probably the day he moves out, and hires his own maid. The evilest oldest of queens is leaning on me. So I will just keep typing until she moves on... she's old... so she may forget why she even was leaning on me and carry on. I am worried... I have to go wash my hair... and going on what I wrote from two days ago.. I can't have that happen again... I will go to great lengths to appear on the normalish side while I am out... although we are going to take the skytrain downtown... and it's raining. This should all be interesting. ... I will tread lightly.

The day my hair grew bigger

Some days can be very frightening for myself. It all came down to about four thirty yesterday afternoon. My friend came to pick up her daughter, and then we were heading out for... you guessed it... gymnastics. I whipped my hairband off of my head... and that is when it all sprung loose. Even my friend, who I might say has a large amount of decorum... burst into laughter. My hair had gained about 3 inches of pure frizz.....you see it all started earlier in the day....

First wrong move:With freshly dry hair we had our walk to school, in our moist autumn weather.
Second wrong move: Talked to a friend outside of her house... and laughed about our husbands. (that chatter wasn't the wrong move.. it was the bobbling of my head that contributed to this fine mess I was in)
Third wrong move: Arrived a little behind schedule for a long time visit at Lujza's house, so instantly there are demerits for lateness and the punishment is an increase in frizzability.
Fourth wrong move: Laughing for a couple of hours too too long increased the volume of the hair mass.
Fifth wrong move: Drove up to sisters house to watch the girl garden. This is real live gardening at its finest. Much laughter created here. I think the fizz from drinking the diet orange crush added more fuzz to the already really bad hair day that I guess I was having.
Sixth wrong move: Don't try this at home.... marched out to the front portion of the garden and began my own method in madness clean sweep of summer garden materials. The movement of back and forth and up and down, put the head of hair over the edge... it was flying in all directions.
Seventh wrong move: Walked quickly to school to get the kids. I should just wear a sign, I am not crazy, just my hair is. It was big hair, big bad hair. And I took it to school. I still had my lipstick on, so that was an indication that I haven't completely lost it.....unless I start wearing frosted whitesh colours... then someone can hit me.
Eight wrong move: Peered in the window at school, scared myself....
Ninth wrong move: Cleaned the bathroom after we got home... the chemicals were attracted to the wild fray floating around the bathroom.
Finally: My friend came over to pick up her daughter... we went through the number of bottles of antifrizz hair goup.... all of them 3/4's empty... and none of them had been used today. The hair rested high on my head, laughter poured from her, I had to leave to be in a public place, and sit with people that I will never talk to, or ever know..... something had to be done... fast. Then... out came the spray....

Driving between the leaves.

Autumn can be a treacherous time of year for those car loving individuals. As the fall winds come and go they catch the falling leaves and scatter them gently across the roadways, leaving the operator of the vehicle wondering if they should swerve to miss a dead leaf, or a dead animal. That's how the leaves appear to me, around these parts that is.

I'm on the hunt...

It's hunting season, and I am all for that !!! I am going to venture into the deepest and busiest places to locate my prey. I will not come home empty handed. I am not certain how many miles I will have to travel... but it will be well worth it in the end. We will not go without this winter. That's right... instant images from the digital camera that I will be purchasing after I hunt down the most reasonably priced product out there....

JUST DOUBLE CHECKING HERE...

If I wasn't quite certain earlier... I am quite certain now. The boy is still terrified silly of the dark. How do I know this for certain..... we went to a Hay Maze at the local nursery after school today. It was daylight hours when we went I will add. The beastly young bossy fellow hid behind me through part of the maze, all the while directing me where to lead him. After a short while of being completely lost in the darkness we found our way out. I walked, he fled. I think I saw a hint of a spark on his heels mind you. Fortunately for him a fellow parent had a mining light which the boy graciously accepted, as well as the parents 4 year old daughter... which he now led around in the well lit safe hay maze.

Who's child is this?

The boy had a friend who moved away. She fed him... a lot.... the boy misses her. This is his email that he sent her.... I am not sure who he takes after. You can point fingers if you like.

Hi Brittani

thanks for the e mail I read it, my mom got rid of it, and I forgot some of the questions. but these are some question's I do remember. I hope it's all of them. our principal this year is Mr. pattison he is super nice. my teacher's this year are Mrs. Hamilton and Mrs. Huliganga hul-li-ganga that's how you pronounce it. my mom calls her Mrs. Hooligan for some reason I don't know why but it's funny to call a teacher a hooligan I'm the only hooligan around here. or king comedy for short. and Mrs. Hamilton she always sounds like she's over the edge with all of us. she is pretty loud, let's face it she's super loud, she's a yelling machine with that woman there is no saying, "sorry I didn't hear you to her" lets face it, it's pretty much impossible to say that to her. well yeah that's pretty much it about my teachers this year. hey have you gotten any new games I have I can't remember if it's one or two let me go check
sorry about the long wait yep it was one or was it sorry but I have to go check again be right back

sorry about the even longer wait it was only one game I was thinking about the game I rented yea the games called whirl tour it is such a cool scooter game and when you hit innocent bystander's they say stuff like what the devil and why you little. anyways if you like game cheating take my advice go to www.ign.com they have game cheats,codes,walkathon's,screenshots,reviews you name it all for a ps2 a xbox a pc a gamecube you name it all there on your computer screen. so go ahead be free cheat away well anyway that's all for now see ya later bye get lost go away adios amigo's how do you get rid of this darn e mail thing arg!
your friend







PS{I've beaten jak and daxter
5 times how many times have
have you beaten it tell me}

Ring ring

Ring ring ring ring ring ring ring ring...... yes people that's right, you know who you are.. you have a phone, now answer. I don't care if you are not home.... the calls that come from me should be answered, promptly and in person.

This is just a little exerpt of "the willer" being without radar systems... and the thought process of what I was thinking as I was trying to get a hold of my mom and my sister... now that I have written it should happen...because if it doesn't.... someone's gonna freak. NOW. Must go... make a couple of calls now.

Twilightzoneville

I dropped the chicklets off at school today... we were going to walk there. Since everyone has the natural aptitude for built in pokiness, walking turned out not to be an option.... otherwise I would have been cursed by the great complainer.... and one of the girls wheels on her scooter is jammed.. we were better off driving. And that's when I drive into the twilight zone. Where do all the people go? I am not kidding.....the place was desolate by nine o two..... except me... cause I saw it all....I guess they have a school based version of the D & D (dine and dash)... it is the Drop and Dash.... I will have to try that someday....

Answer me this...

So, is it too late to go to bed when you have already been up for an hour and twenty minutes, and you have to be up in an hour anyways? The clocks just screaming through the minutes.... and here I am, keeping pace. So, if I were to go to bed now, would the clock slow down... like it does when you lay there awake listening to someone irritate the hell out of you by their "loudness". I have the option of sleeping in the den, where the most evilest of queens is busy resting her 11 year old bones on the leather couch... or, going back to the bedroom....no, that's not an option, or entering the livingroom, where I found the younger sillier dog sleeping earlier, let's say yesterday morning... so now I need to vacuum those couches because of her dog hair. Can't sit on those.... in a sea of doghair... yuck, yuck yuck. Hmmm. Perhaps I will have to stay here, on the kitchen chair. A warming thought.

Well, now that I am completely irritated.... I need to do some fixing. It looks like the right ear on my picture is missing.... it has been for quite a while... but now that I am highly irritated... I will write about it... in fact... it looks like I should add some shoulders to that head. I will get on that... just not right now. Speaking of irritated.... I read in the paper where someone wrote in... he was irritated by the noise level where he lives. He lives in Vancouver.. in the city, downtown, the pulse, where all the action is, where people flock to, the attractive spot.... where there are deciduous trees, and evil leaf blowers, and sirens, and loud cars, and motorcycles, and parades, and little yappy silly dogs with jackets, limited transit, and limited parking spots. I think I missed a few... but he is irritated. I am irritated by his lack of grey matter. .... oh, the eldest evil dog is off the couch.. I will run for my alarm clock, and quickly grab 27 1/2 winks before I have a shower and try to fix my hair into some sort of polite but out dated style of hairdos... oh, too late, the evilest of queens has relapsed back onto the couch. But! the noise maker in the bedroom is now awake and has made his way to the kitchen... I told him to leave this area immediately.. this is the hour of the day that all my money laundering takes place..... I mispoke, or was that mind wandering takes place.....

Hiding behind my front door.

The fall is a nice time of year. It's a time when you can hide in your home.. and nobody knows you are around. Except of course when you have the little neighbour children knock continuously on your front door... waiting for anybody to open it. The neighbour children know you are in their.... they will get their way...Opening the front door can be a dangerous event. It all depends upon the mood of the home behind those closed doors.

Todays adventure takes us to the point where it is all quiet in this place, not even the dryer is drying. A pleasant moment... until the knocking starts. The girl had a friend over after school, and she was happy. Happy to have a friend over, happy to be able to play in her room, happy that she could have a friend come over and actually enter her room in fact. My thought is, why screw this up? So when the knocking started and the bedroom door opened, I hissed... "get back in there".... and I ventured further to put a stop to the continuous knocking. I had to be carefully prepared as to the response I was going to give to the inviter... just enough info to make her go away, but not enough to let her know that the girl already had some company, thereby making the knocking perpetrator a unhappy knocker.... I let her down easy... it went over alright.. especially since her attention was diverted because her demon brother took off with her bike... which made her scream at the top of her lungs.... alright, thanks for stopping by... as I quietly slipped behind my front door.

Out of gas..

The husband man took the garage cleanout nicely. He was even more impressed that I hauled all of that special stuff away. There are many unwritten details to life that I take care of. For example, the pretty little Barbie Doll wife from across the street will never cut the lawn, ever. She lets Ken take care of that. Mind you from my vantage point I don't mind Ken cutting the lawn either. I like cutting the lawn, the mix of gas and grass that overwhelms my senses and the opportunity to create art in the front yard. I like to create the illusion that the lawnmower has gone right through our front tree.

All of this has come to a crashing halt today. I am out of gas. Now I am with Barbie on this one. That is something that I simply do not do. It's not in my genetic make up to go the station and gas up a little gas can. Clearly this is a man thing. My reasoning... how many woman do you see walking along the highway out of gas? Right then. Now, I am a victim of my own shortfalls. I will have to wait until Mr Husband will fill the gas can.. and only then will grass cutting production continue... until then I have a full bag of grass seed to throw around the lawns for fun.

Tag, I'm it...

My husband will be a very happy man...not that I have cleaned, folded or cooked...he's used to none of those things being accomplished by other than himself....he doesn't know it yet...but I have cleaned out some of the things in HIS SACRED GARAGE. Yes, it's all true, I dare to scare. Hopefully I have not jostled any of his fine items in the shake down. Now, I learned this from Martha, when she was a free woman and all.... I could have made loads of money with the goods that were handed over this afternoon. All I had to have done was call it a Tag Sale... and customers would have come running.... but no... I just took it all to one little place, deeply hidden in black garbage bags and snuck away.... hopefully I will not be digging in them later in darkness!!!

As usual I'm impatient....

I dropped the chicklets off at school this morning...the boy grumbled the whole way that he was going to be late....which is why I gave him permission to run as fast as he could to get their. (My secret plan was to get him far enough away from me so I didn't have to hear his hisses)....Run Forrest Run!..... and he was gone. The girl scootered her way to school... hence the non-complaint issue. After all was said and done... I ventured towards my ultimate destination... the ingestible gas station for humans...starbucks. As I am their reading the Globe and Mail while I slurp back the coffee....(because I have now decided that, I can't kind-of power walk while drinking hot items)..... I watch the customers come and go, as I read Christopher Reeve's Obituary. In walks Mr. Man... nothing special... just a guy. He meets up with a group of people that were gathering at the gas station for humans. As I watch him... I continue to stare at his sunglasses that were at the tip of his nose. "Take the freakin things off"..... I willed to him as he sat making small talk with his people. No, he did not do it... he continued to talk with these stupid things on the end of his nose. Maybe all of his thoughts come from the tip of his nose, rather than the tip of his tongue...I have this human theory on life... that everyone is a freak in their own special way. He was very special with his tip of the nose sunglasses, I wonder what he actually does when it's sunny out.... wear a shield????

Official Pumpkin Day

This is the day that I have been waiting for..... pumpkin pie, just pumpkin pie. While everyone will be dining on turkey today... I will be waiting for a REAL piece of pumpkin pie.

Treatville

So, feeling like you need a treat.... come to my work. There is a surgeon that arrives (rather afternoonish to be fair)... and he rarely shows up empty handed. Saturdays treats coming in a box form from the bakery... a generous assortment of cookies. Sundays treats were assorted flavour of taco chips.... and you can't have chips without dip. So, now that you're feeling loaded in carbs and fat... along comes a family member that is appreciative of the care that they have recieved. A beautiful box of Purdy's (fine chocolates)...... of course those are opened immediately and begin to disappear fairly quickly. Then there's the lovely staff member that has worked on the ward for a fairly long time... and she brings in something to delight the tastebuds!!! So, it really turns into a feeding frenzy. Except for those carb crazed, highly resilient, brave souls that can keep their intake to a minimum. Yae for you.... YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU MISSED! Now, I say that with humour.... cause if I were to eat all the treats that were handed out... I wouldn't make it out the doors to leave.... so Treatville is really an opportunity for myself to practice moderation,.... sometimes....!!! Today is Thanksgiving for the Canadian Folks... and now I am afraid of what may appear......

How come I recognize that voice?

I told the boy I loved him the other day. This isn't an unusal occurance, or something that isn't routinely spoken.......but it's the way in which he responded that caught my attention... so he says:

" You say you love me, is that what you are sayin'; but I thought that you loved chicken pot pie?"

Now attach Eddie Murphys voice to this... and that's what I listened to the other day. And you wonder how come it caught my attention. This boy amazes/scares me... I am never sure what is coming out of his mouth. I live in fear of my sons mouth, that's a new one.

Rules, rules, rules

I am sure glad that I am not my boy in the fourth grade. Way so glad. I am confused by the number of rules that have happened since the grade four doors have opened. This class has two teachers, so they have rules for certain days. I think they have rules for the rules. These two teachers are into crime and punishment. If anyone steps out of line, the whole class is punished. Interesting practice. So yesterday, when the class was lining up for gym apparently they were too noisy. So, no gym for them. None. Once again, an interesting practice. No gym for an excited group of 9 and 10 year olds. I hope the teacher uses this same theory when it comes to math. Now I can see an absolute uproar here, I mean there are the few soles in this world that love math to pieces, and probably might crack a smile during class when the subject draws near. I am wondering if the same "punishment" will be applied. It's my belief that gym should not be seen as an extra, or as a reward, but should be valued the same as math, science, geography, language arts,... ect....(now, where are those obesity, sedentary, diabetic studies "those" people have been pumping out). Lucky for me I will let this go... because there is a herd of crazy mothers already in an uproar over the "no gym" policy..... this nice little teacher may have to change her practice if she wants to survive the year.... with the parents.

Whens a pumpkin not a pumpkin?

I am wondering.... is there a certain time of day that pie should be eaten? I have a great passion for pumpkin pie. Nothing makes your day start off on the right foot with a good piece of pumpkin pie first thing in the morning. Although.... I am pretty much a morning person... and haven't fully tested out this theory... but it could be a theory worth testing I guess. When it gets to be this time of year it's the pumpkin pie thoughts that sit at the forefront. Just give me the pie... I don't want the fru-fru fake whipped topping that adds "what" to the flavour? I am after pure pumpkin, with a little egg and spices thrown in. Don't even bother with the pastry.... it's really not required, other than a holding tank so the pumpkin remains contained and you can deliver to a plate safe and sound. I don't even worry about having a genetically modified type of pumpkin... I am not certain if I need to worry about that yet.... but you never know. I was thinking that the icecream people could make millions on creating a "pumpicle".... really. The "pumpicle" would be an excellent source of after dinner vitamins.... that's if the manufacturers don't squeeze all the goodness out of the pumpkin first. There's 1 gram of protein and 240 mg of potassium in a 125 ml serving of prepared pumpkin. I can see the signage now...."Protein, potassium and the pumpicle... get a pounce start to your day".... I will sit back and wait for the people to start calling me now.

Yikes

Yikes... I can't stand the taste of chewable vitman c. The taste is freakin me out; once upon a time I didn't mind the fanciful flavour that the vitamin companies would inject them with, now I am frightened by what they have come up with. I think I will go back to the swallowable kind... I already rattle enough anyways.

Yikes again...we spotted a beautiful black bear on a branch eating up apples.. then he cartwheeled out of the tree... ran straight for our 14 year old SUV, then down the road... at full black bear speed, he took a hard right, ran down that road for a while until he reached another clearing and disappeared into the greenery....quite comical, I am wondering what he's in training for??

Oh yikes again... the girl was hard at it again this afternoon practicing her cartwheels. Clearly she doesn't have it. And she's not even close. I will buy her a gold medal in preparation for the day that she actually succeeds at performing a cartwheel. So, essentually I have time to shop around for that medal!

EEEkkke... yikes... the Pipster talked the husband man into buying her a treat from the grocery store.... he brought home these cookieables (like lunchables)... which she has been wanting since the moment she could speak.. and today she finally got them... and tomorrow I have to try and wash all of the blue colouring that is smeared around her lips and on her fingertips...double yikes for that one.

A final yikes... coloured my hair today... yikes it's all the same colour.. until I wash it.

And an awwwe...... the boy's piano teacher told him today that he was very good. Not just very good, but VERY good..... it came at the right time... this boy is a challenge when it comes to his piano.... and the piano teacher woman spoke to him at just the right moment...she said to him that she hasn't met many students in her 18 years of teaching that were like him... so, before he decides to ever give it up, to think long and hard what he would be giving up.... I was impressed at that anecdote..... I was wondering what I was going to do with him... I know he is very good.... and very easily frustrateable.... enough so that I wonder if it is worth it sometimes...

Oh brother...

It's my brothers birthday today.... he's not to too old.... can't be, because if he is, then I am not far behind. Can't have that.

I was noticing the girl's hair is not so brilliantly blond any longer, although I am wondering when the de-blonding effect will emerge. At present she is as blond as blond is, it's rather difficult to follow the Miss Pips Logic.... or the logic according to Pip. For breakfast she has started by cleaning her teeth, with a stick of gum... because the gum and the toothpaste have matching tastes, so therefore the gum must also be good for cleaning her teeth.

It's the littlest-youngest blondest but strongest nephews birthday today too. He's 5 today. His mother is 10 years older today because of him... that worries me... if she is 10 years older, how old does that make me.... because I am her older sister. I am already oldish because my brother is kind of oldish today as well.....

The Art of Saying Hello

Hello means many things. I have been thinking about this for a while. Someone once insulted the english language because the word "hello" doesn't carry a significant message, in fact, "he said", it almost sounds rude. "The person" who is nameless, because I don't know "his" name... said that in his language their greeting means something like.... "peace be to you". That's nice, it's thoughtful, and well-meaning. I too think that our greeting of a simple hello means the same, although not stated in many words. When I send a greeting of hello, I think of it in terms of acknowledging someone's presence. There isn't the expectation of further dialogue, only a gesture of acknowledgement. I guess depending on people's perceptions hello could mean, well now that I have your attention I will be dropping by in 15 minutes and we will go shopping across the border, and then fly home tomorrow.... that's a rather big hello... but that could be the intent of such a hello. There is the fleeting hello, just enough umph to divert ones attention, and then return to regular scheduled activities. It's easy to get caught up in the emotion of a hello, the tricky part is sending it with just the right amount of acknowledgement so that the receiver is enlightened but not threatened. So, say hello to that.....

Ninety Degrees.

My finger was aching yesterday.. my right index finger to be exact. It just ached and ached. I stared at it for quite some time. I was trying to will away the ache by hurling all my healing spirits at it. It continued to ache. Apparantley that doesnt work, that stare is only good for scaring away spiders. I am wondering if it has hit a point of jealousy. See, while I am at work I make a point of sitting at right angles. The ergonomics investigators told me this a long while ago. So that is what I do, and it works. Sitting at right angles is easier on the muscles and joints. Now, I know longer have a roaring bonfire sitting between my shoulder blades. So the aching finger has decided to put up a bit of a protest, it wants to be all ninety degrees.... it wont know what hit it when I take my fancy herbal anti-inflammatory pills... to counteract the protest.

Don't let me near your blog...

I was just thinking... if someone poses the thought of "what do you think?", "why is it...?", "tell me....", you will find me. I will show up like a fly on fruit. Be careful out there, you may be straighter, greyer or curlier haired sooner than you would like to be! I could have a whole new blog.... "the comment of the hour is"... there would be no shortage of readership on that.... now if I could just extend that clock into a 27 1/2 hour day....

I love the library... just wish I could read

I took my books back to the library the other day.. one day late.. cause that's me. It's a good thing that I carefully picked out the great reads that I was going to throw myself into. I am thinking now... when was I going to throw myself into them... close to next year... what was I thinking... I reread the first 4 pages about 3 times, and lugged the book around with me for a while... and now, I don't even remember what the name of the book was....wow... I'm sure it was going to be a great book... I'll try again.. soon. Maybe. I think I'll just start reading my boys books, because I certainly buy him enough of them.. like the series of unfortunate events... it's good, it's fun, it's light.. it keeps me interested... I mean.. I made it up to "the book of the fourth"... so I guess I was doing pretty good... reading books that my boy read while he was in the second grade... I'm a prize parent.....I am waiting for the moment when the walls of my house can crash around me.. and I sit motionless but glued to the best read on the face of the earth at this moment... that's what I am waiting for.

What's going on out there?

This question comes disguised as a yawn....see, curiosity killed the cat....at least that's what I was told...so now I am interested... do people really stop by here and read?

Competition

The bears are now busy being shot out of trees with tranquilizer guns... and the next neighbour to move in comes from the cat family, that's MR. Cougar to you and me. This part of town is becoming the next wild kingdom....Mr. Cougarspotterhusband has seen this big cat. So far Mr. Cougar has eluded my eyesight.... I think I am going to put post-it notes all over the case of the binoculars that state "I Can't See"... and see if the cougarspotterhusbandman will notice. I am pretty excited about spotting it... I don't want to be standing next to it when I spot it... I will drive my 14 year old SUV to the point of observation...which is just down the street and around the corner....

Do you have to tip at Great Clips? I mean really... if these people wanted to sell their skills.. wouldn't they just head to a salon where people feel obligated to pay even more for a service that they already pay more than enough for??? I don't tip.... give me a break, you trim up my hair an inch and a half, check to see that the edges are even on both sides... kind of cut the bangs, but in actuality don't really cut them because of shear tearer from the person that is sitting in the chair staring at you...and then fluff it around a bit, a wa-la... it's a haircut ! This was the woman that cut the boys hair in under five minutes... I let her touch my hair. Well, really there should me the magic moment... the moment that you decide that the person cutting your hair has spent enough time fussing with it to actually be rewarded of a tip. This lady is the faster haircutter in the world... why would you tip that... she's probably clearing more an hour between you and I together! You are paid to cut hair...which is exactly what you did, task accomplished... so what's the tip for... "Yae, you did your job"....funny though... tables are turned when the little weirdlycute fellow cuts the boys hair.... I like this guy....although he has braces all of a sudden.... I like the way his hands float through the air, and the way he consults me everytime he asks the boy a question....and how he holds the scissors.. and... I like this guys hair, he has good hair..... Oh, and I like that he is always ironed (pressed) up nice... maybe it's the nice airy shirts he wears..or is it ..... the way he moves in his clothes.. yes, that's it.... and he has the end chair... so that gives me a clear view..... because I do watch him....can't help it... so I tip him... kind of a thank-you for having good hair, pressed clothes, an accent of some form, oh... he even cuts the boys hair nice.... and his name is Sam......not that I am partial to the name, it's just that it rhymes...not many people can say that about their professions...let me think..."Dr. Proctor" ; Dr. O.B. Onecanobee; .. I know "Becky the Techy"....;
Sam the Hairdresserman.... you have to like that little ditty. All this coming from me, the people watcher.

My friend sent this to me... interesting..

The way jails should be run TO THOSE OF YOU NOT FAMILIAR WITH JOE ARPAIO -
HE IS THE MARICOPA COUNTY SHERIFF IN ARIZONA AND HE KEEPS GETTING ELECTED OVER AND OVER. THIS IS ONE OF THE REASONS WHY:

In a message dated 6/5/04 1:52:25 PM Eastern Daylight Time, about Sheriff Joe Arpaio (in Arizona) who created the "tent city jail": He has jail meals down to 40 cents a serving and charges the inmates for them. He stopped smoking and porno magazines in the jails.He took away their weights. Cut off all but "G" movies. He started chain gangs so the inmates could do free work on county and city projects. Then he started chain gangs for women so he wouldn't get sued for discrimination. He took away cable TV until he found out there was a federal court order that required cable TV ! for jails. So he hooked up the cable TV again only let in the Disney channel and the weather channel. When asked why the weather channel he replied, so they will
know how hot it's gonna be while they are working in my chain gangs. He cut off coffee since it has zero nutritional value. When the inmates complained, he told them, "This isn't the Ritz/Carlton. If you don't like it, don't come back." He bought Newt Gingrich' lecture series on videotape that he pipes into the jails. When asked by a reporter if he had any lecture series by a
Democrat, he replied that a democratic lecture series might explain why a lot of the inmates were in his jails in the first place. More on the Arizona Sheriff: With temperatures being even hotter than usual in Phoenix (116 degrees just set a new record), theAssociated Press reports: About 2,000 inmates living in a barbed-wire-surrounded tent encampment at the Maricopa
County Jail have been given permission to strip down to their government issu! ed pink boxer shorts. On Wednesday, hundreds of men wearing boxers were either curled up on their bunk beds or chatted in the tents, which reached 138 degrees inside the week before. Many were also swathed in wet, pink towels as sweat collected on their chests and dripped down to their pink socks. "It feels like we are in a furnace," said James Zanzot, an inmate who has lived in the tents for 1½years. "It's inhumane." Joe Arpaio, the tough-guy sheriff who created the tent city and long ago started making his prisoners wear pink, and eat bologna sandwiches, is not one bit
sympathetic He said Wednesday that he told all of the inmates: "It's 120 degrees in Iraq and our soldiers are living in tents too, and they have to wear full battle gear, but they didn't commit any crimes, so shut your damned mouths!" Way to go, Sheriff! Maybe if all prisons were like this one there would be a lot less crime and/or repeat offenders. Criminals should be punished for their crimes - not live in! luxury until it's time for their parole, only to go out and commit another crime so they can get back in to live on taxpayers money and enjoy things taxpayers can't afford to have for themselves.

Bow Wow to the Queen

It's the evil queens birthday today. She is eleven years old. She doesn't really act eleven...although her evilness is eleven years too long. She wasn't quite evil when she was young, she just turned that way. It has been her quest in life. Although she is evil to all other creatures that lay their breath upon this earth; she quite likes tall humans... she appears to quite like those creatures very much. She can do without the shorter humans of the world, but she does have a certain tolerance level with them. I mean she does tolerate the fact that the boy needs to go to bed sometime so she has to share his bed with him, she can't hog it all and expect him to sleep across his pillow, or better yet on his hardwood floor. She tolerates the Pipster, although the evil queen appears to be annoyed by the fact that the Pipster sleeps on a mattress that is beyond this eleven year old evil queens jump, and the fact that the Pipster is in love with cats. Evil Queens do not tolerate the mere thought of cats. She is actually a lovely dog, just don't let any of the stupid dog owners with the extendible dog leashes out, when she's out. The Evil Queen is not interested in socializing with other beasts that are way too social for her liking. She is a classic case of give the girl what she wants and she will remain happy. Like soccar balls, tennis balls, a 2 litre pop bottle, some sticks, a kong, and a warm place to sleep at night and a human to talk to if she feels the need. Happy Birthday Evilest of Queens... Cicely.