Rain Rain....Come Back...

Not too long ago I found myself sitting in the car waiting for my husband to come out of Home Depot.  He ran in to get a boring piece of hardware that only a handyman could get excited about.  I stayed behind with the dog and my book.  I started to read but then my attention was grasped by the wind blowing giant raindrops against the windshield.  I sighed, watching the drops slide down to the bottom of the window and feeling thankful that I was enclosed in the comfort of the car, not having to fight my way through the weather.  I started to watch people walking towards the store entrance and noticed that every person had a slightly different grimace to express their dislike of the rain and chilly wind.  Some tried to remain cheerful while others just let their feelings hang out for all the world to see.  I sympathized with every person that walked past.  "I know how you feel," I said.  "We deserve so much more than this nasty rain.  It's almost July.  Where is summer? My drought resistant plants are drowning and I can't even see the clematis blooms that are so pretty out there somewhere, blowing in the wind...."  I tried to comfort them but they didn't hear me...of course...they just continued their private journies, sloshing through ankle-deep puddles.

Now, a few weeks later, the sweltering heat is making me very cranky.  I don't like the way sweat feels sliding down my forehead and into my eyes.  And I hate how portions of my body stick together in that unappealing manner. The hot air is thick and I can't breathe too quickly or I'll choke on the heat waves......................inhaling burns, and exhaling makes me feel faint........

I know...I really sound like a complainer don't I??  That's because I AM one....

Tupperware Party...

Today I was going through some old sentimental stuff and I found the following little thing that I wrote in the mid-90's....

Recently I was invited to a Tupperware party by a long-lost buddy who I hadn't heard from since the last time she invited me to a Tupperware party.  My first instinct was to say "No thanks...I'll be washing my hair and trimming my toenails that night..." but suddenly that little voice in  my head screamed, "WAIT A MINUTE!! YOU JUST MIGHT WIN THE COVETED SPATULA!!"

Ah yes, the SPATULA.  I could win the SPATULA!!  For a moment I was tempted, but then common sense broke forth as I quickly recalled my last TW party:

"I won't be able to buy anything because we're on a pretty tight budget right now," I'd told my friend, knowing she would say the inevitable:  "No problem...just come for the visit, the food and the games."

Games?  Yes, I recalled the game from years ago - you know - the one where you put your name on 4 little pieces of paper and whenever your name gets called you get to choose a gift out of a bag containing 20 orange peelers, 17 cookie cutters, 96 clothes hanger thingys, 42 cake decorating tools, 12 fridge magnets, 5 smidgets and ONE SPATULA (which everyone seems to want).  When all the names are gone you get to keep whatever gift you're left with.

Having been to several TW parties in the past and having not once EVER won the SPATULA, I should have known better, but, throwing caution to the wind, I thought "maybe this time no one will even have heard of the SPATULA and maybe I will be the one who actually gets it.  Maybe everyone else will be hoping for a fridge magnet or an orange peeler.  If I just act casual, as if the SPATULA means nothing to me, maybe I will be the one!"

I arrived a bit late.  "Have you played the name game yet?" I asked, trying to act nonchalant while peering anxiously into the livingroom to do a brief head count.  Disappointment stabbed me like a knife.  There must be 40 people here, I thought. Now let me see...4 little slips of paper x 40...my chances of winning the SPATULA are about...well my math isn't great but I think my chances of  walking away with the SPATULA are pretty slim...I was right.  I walked away with an orange peeler and a M/C slip for a stack of cupboard organizing items that I couldn't live without.

Older now, and wiser, I replied to my most recent invitation, "Sorry...I'd love to come but I have plans for that night, and besides, I couldn't buy anything because we're on a pretty tight budget right now..."

"No problem.  Just come for the visit, the food and the games."

"Games??"

"This could be your chance to win the coveted SPATULA..."

I arrived a bit late.  "Have you played the name game yet?" I asked, trying to act nonchalant while peering anxiously into the livingroom to do a brief head count....

Painless Dentistry is not an oxy-moron...

Today I went to the dentist for my semi-annual cleaning.   I laid there watching the HG Channel from a ceiling mounted TV that makes me nervous considering it is directly above my head.  I always want to ask how it is held up there but I think I would rather not know.  I gave up trying to send telepathic messages to Lois the hygenist who kept asking me questions that required answers that I couldn't give, due to the equipment in my mouth.  Across the hall I heard what sounded like frustration being directed at the patient. A boy about 12 or so was being drilled upon when I came in and was now the object of criticism.  I focussed in and listened to the conversation.

The dental assistant and the dentist were discussing the teeth of the kid in the chair.

" He HAS to start flossing and brushing regularly or he will lose his teeth," one of them said.

"Yes," the other voice said. "You have some huge cavities here and you MUST floss and brush.  Do you understand?"

The kid grunted with what I thought could be understanding but didn't sound overly concerned.  That's when I wanted to telepathically tell my thoughts to Lois.

If this kid had to experience the torture chambers of dentistry that I experienced as a youngster, I think he would put a little more effort into his dental care.  Going to the dentist was like being led to the guillotine (or worse).  I remember trying to convince myself that being killed would be worse because there would not be a tomorrow.  I told myself that at least my torture would be over and I would live to see another day.  Maybe I was a bit over the top in my thinking, but I know that I am not the only one who was actually tortured by a dentist.  I've talked to many people who had to overcome their childhood fear and learn that nowadays, "painless dentistry" is not an oxymoron.

Just a few thoughts...

"The more people I meet the more I love my dog..."

Every time I see that bumper sticker it makes me sad to think that someone would actually feel that way about people. BUT...I think I understand now.

My dog actually sits and listens when I talk to her.  If she doesn't understand what I'm trying to say she tilts her head and waits for me to explain it in simpler terms.  If she still doesn't get it she just sighs and puts her head on my foot. She doesn't assume anything.  She doesn't get offended and she is always ready to drop everything to spend time with me.  If I accidentally hurt her she forgives me immediately.  She loves me unconditionally and isn't afraid to show affection.

I don't love my dog more than I love people...but sometimes it's tempting.

I'm so glad that God created dogs...................But where would we be without people?!

It's Spring...Isn't It?

Yes, it's really spring.  And although I always say that autumn is my favourite season, I think that deep down I really like spring.  The feeling of dirt under my fingernails as I try to distinguish the difference between weeds and what I actually planted last year is so special...so exhilarating.  I don't know how many times I've nurtured and coddled a plant only to discover that I've been raising a weed!!!  It's like taking care of a kitten that turns out to be a rat.

I remember fondly, the year  my 14-year-old son yanked out my gladiola bulbs when he was weeding my pathetic little garden patch.  After I got over the shock of learning that the garbage truck had just pulled away with my 20 bulbs @ $1.50 each I was able to pull myself together long enough to thank him for his effort.  When I heard him say, "Gee, I wondered what those onion things were," I seized the opportunity to give him a short horticultural lesson.

Not that I'm much of a gardener.  I must have at least 30 gardening magazines that I pull out each spring.  I use them to plan my garden while I sip coffee and gaze out the window.  Sometimes I actually plant some stuff but then we go camping and the garden suffers.

I heard someone say that her plants scream when they see her coming.  Mine scream when I leave because they know I won't be back.

Parking Troubles

Today I was in a bit of a hurry and I just wanted to run in and out of the HUGE "grocery" store. I pulled up to a space and then realized it was a "handicap" space. No problem.

I drove on and noticed a couple of spaces side by side and not too far from the entrance. I started to pull into one and screeched to a stop when I saw a sign that had a diagram of a minivan and some little people. Underneath the picture it said "family parking". I was confused because I do have a family but they were not with me. In fact they are now grown up with families of their own. I had my dog with me and I believe she is part of the family. But when I saw an actual mini-van with 4 children and 2 adults inside pull into the space, I realized that my dog would not be considered enough family for me to park there. Fair enough.

I drove on, muttering slightly to my dog.

Again I saw in the distance, 3 spaces side by side fairly close to the store entrance. I pulled halfway into one before I noticed another sign. This one had a picture of a baby carriage and in words it said "pregnant women/new mother parking".

Now don't get me wrong.  I have nothing against handicapped people or pregnant women or families, but   COME ON!!!!  Doesn't it seem almost racist that there are "handicap", "family", "pregnant women/new mother"; even "small car" spaces (although mostly there are large cars and even trucks parked in these spaces)??  To be fair to all, shouldn't there be "gray-haired, mid-menopausal, in a hurry, on the verge of screaming, women" parking spaces?"

Looking cautiously at my dog, I suddenly remembered I had a pillow in the trunk. I eased my way into a pregnant spot and then quickly retreived the pillow, stuffing it snuggly under my shirt.  Then I swiftly waddled towards the store.

I soon returned to my vehicle and as I approached with my small bag of groceries, I pulled the pillow out from under my shirt. At the same moment I found myself being glared at by a pregnant mother of 4, driving a small car with a handicapped tag hanging in the windshield. Sheepishly, I slithered into my car and offered her my spot.

The moral of this story: there isn't one. I just wanted to vent about my parking troubles.

COVER LETTER

I'm looking for meaningful employment in a pleasant atmosphere where there is no stress whatsoever. I'd like to work with positive people who love their jobs and never say a negative thing about the company, their co-workers, or management.

I noticed your ad said "team player"? That's me!!! I'm very team oriented and I always go above and beyond what is expected of me. I love to help people and if I see that anyone has work piled up, I always offer to help them finish their tasks. And the best thing about me is that I am very humble.

"Multi-tasker"? That term fits me to a tee. I have been known to eat a sandwich, do my nails, talk to my facebook friends, answer a switchboard, soak my feet, crochet snowflakes, apply false eyelashes, play solitaire and sort all my filing...ALL at the same time. What more can I say?!

Mature? Me! I'm very mature. I am so mature that you will have to keep your eye on me in case I fall asleep at the reception desk (oops - did I say that out loud??)

Seriously now - I will never have problems with sick kids or daycare because my kids are all grown up with kids of their own. You will never have to worry about me making up excuses for being late or taking time off due to hang-overs, because I have no life outside of looking for work. I'm desperate.

Don't let my grey hair and wrinkles fool you though. I'm not so mature that I will forget everything five minutes after it happens.

Oh sorry - what was the question?

Fun...

Here I am sitting at the Cloverdale library waiting for Rod who is in his career development class across the street.

I have 40 minutes left on this computer and I was just thinking how far technology has come over the last several years. It's mind-boggling!!! Especially for me because my brain is easily boggled. Instead of just sitting here reading or wasting precious time, I can actually add something to my blog for all to read...wow!!!

Who would have thunk this would be possible?? It doesn't take much to amaze me. I'm still in awe about PVR - I can't comprehend how you can pause or rewind live television!!! WHAT???!!!

Going back a bit - here are some other inventions that amaze me:

typewriter (and look where typewriters led to...)
vacuum cleaner (as if a broom wasn't enough...)
sewing machine (gee!!!!!!!! no more needle pricks in the finger)
telephones (and...........)
cell phones (need I say more....)
light bulbs (and now we have the energy-saving ones that give off a nice soft glow - so soft that you can't read by them but at least we are saving energy...)

Believe it or not, my time is almost up and I've hardly even scratched the surface of amazing inventions..........

I'll get back to you later from my space ship....

GP-Yes

It was Christmas morning 2008 that I first laid eyes on my brand new GPS.

I'd like to say I was thrilled but I wasn't. Normally I try to be gracious about gifts that someone put thought into getting for me. Even if it is something I don't like (which is rare), I try to pretend. But if I had a list of 50 things I wanted, GPS was not on it.

"What is it?" I asked nervously. My husband was excited. "You will never get lost again hun," he said.

I'm not certain, but I think a lot of women would rate GPS in the same category as blender, toaster or electric frying pan (although I would actually be thrilled with the pan which I've wanted for years...)

Running through my mind was a list of things I would have loved: gift card from any womens' clothing store, gift card from any shoe store, perfume (he knows the one I like), gift certificate from any spa, garden centre, book store, restaurant...in otherwords, almost anything except maybe a trip to the dentist would have taken preference over a GPS. I tried to act thrilled as I returned it to the box.

Fast forward to 1.5 years later.

I left my safe although unchallenging office job to pursue a career as a person who drives to various places. Places I have not been to before. Panic took over when I saw the address of my first destination. While looking it up on mapquest, I suddenly remembered my GPS tucked safely in its box in the back of my closet.

I quickly read all the necessary parts of the manual and then did a test run to the mall. I punched in the address and amazingly my GPS led me right to it. Before heading out on a real trip I gave my new friend a name. Gladys.

My first destination was a bit tricky because of the new bridge that must not have been in Gladys' memory yet. When she kept repeating "go to the nearEST road"....I pulled over to call my husband for directions. He gave me some instructions but I still couldn't find my way (did I mention I have a directional problem??) As a last resort I decided to park and cry. I parked and was about to cry when suddenly Gladys piped up with "drive 2.2 kilometres".

Since that first day we have travelled many miles together and become great friends.

She talks. I listen. I talk. She doesn't listen. I beg her to stop repeatng "go to the nearEST road" over and over. I shake her to see if she is awake. I grab her and scream into her face. She responds with, "when possible make a u-turn."

Life is good...

Spring Is Here...

Ephesians 5:16 making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil....

The first official day of spring and amazingly enough - a warm sunny morning.

We decide to start the season off with a nice long walk along the trail that runs behind our house. It's so warm I decide to dig out my favourite stretch denim capris. Nice. But - oh-oh! There it is waving at me from below. LEG HAIR!!

The dog has been excited since the first rays of sunshine shot through the blinds this morning. First she waited patiently while we slowly made our way through the morning newspapers, breakfast, coffee, more coffee. Now she's lying on her side trying to pretend she's dying of boredom. I try to explain the importance of hairlessness on the human female leg - but she doesn't seem to get it...(in fact, as I explain it to her, I have trouble understanding it myself). My husband just groans and waits patiently on the couch. He knows that it would be useless to tell me that no one on the trail is going to notice my leg hair or lack of it. He's been through this before.

Step one - finding my razor. It hasn't been used since the end of September so I have to remember where I last saw it. Step two - removing the solidified soap scum and then realizing the blade is dull. Finding a new blade turns into step three - adding blades to my grocery list. I try to shave the leg hair with the dull blade but this turns out to be more like trying to cut down a field of winter rye with my grampa's push mower.

Finally I give up and put my long pants back on. The dog is now lying face up with her tongue hanging out. My husband is lying on the couch with a pillow over his head.

We step outside just as the first drops of rain start falling and I'm reminded of one of my favourite sayings: "Seize the moment". Another one pops into my mind: "A missed opportunity is like dropping an ice cube into boiling water. You'll never get it back."

Here's another one: "She who lets unshaved legs spoil her fun needs to go for some kind of therapy".

Just a Seagull...

Genesis 2:19... Now the LORD God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air...

"What a beautiful bird!!"

I snapped out of my self-centered thoughts momentarily (I thought) to see the beautiful bird that Lauren was referring to. She was 4 1/2 and I'd noticed on many visits with her that she had that same joy for life that her father had as a little boy. Spending time with my grand-daughter was one of the joys of my life now.

It was a seagull. A bright white one but a seagull just the same.

"Oh honey, that's just a seagull," I said callously without thinking.

"It's beautiful," she repeated, matter-of-factish.

I looked again. Okay, it was "just a seagull". A screeching scavenger, living from snack to snack, shamelessly devouring the spoils of life, no pride, no thought for others. But, for the moment it was standing quietly, looking (well yes) beautiful in the eyes of my grand-daughter.

I considered for a moment, my hasty judgment. Just a seagull? Just a scavenger? Or just another one of God's amazing creations?

"Yes it is beautiful," I replied.