Or not. Perhaps there is something going on that I shouldn't mess with. Nevertheless, here is today's post:
My sister is a bit of a gulliboo (hey sis!). A gulliboo is someone on the extreme end of gullibility. This is a real word. Honest! As it turns out…I am an even bigger gulliboo; mainly because the same thing keeps happening. Seriously, repeat gullibility? I should be shot. You know that line about fool me once shame on you, fool me twice shame on me? I wonder what the deal is if you fool me nine times. No wait; make that eight times, which I’ll explain in a second.
The problem is that I haven’t been looking at what people give me for change. I suppose I do if I’m not in a hurry, but clearly – looking at what is in my change purse – I don’t check anywhere near often enough. Bad enough that ten years or so ago I ended up with half a twenty dollar bill as change and didn’t notice (I still have it. I firmly believe that the day I toss it is the day I find another half a bill. Or that some one day only special at the bank arrives where they replace bits of money with legal tender), but now it appears that I’ve been accepting any old thing for change. Don’t believe me? Here’s a list of unusual things I’ve sorted out of my change purse:
4 Ruckers tokens. Same colour as loonies, I suppose if I didn’t think about the size and weight I might have accepted them. Once I can see. Four times?
1988 South African 50P coin. And yes, long before The Girl ever got home, so it isn’t from her.
1991 5 c coin, also from South Africa
1949 5 something (cents?) from Belgium, of all places. Belgium? The forties? Has my purse been time traveling? WITHOUT ME?
1960 2 cent – or something – coin from some Scandinavian Country. Whichever one had Gustav Adolph the VI as king at the time. (Ok, I went and Googled that. It’s Sweden.)
That’s eight. And the ninth one is actually Canadian, so I guess I wasn’t fooled on that one. But it’s still odd; 1934 nickel. Again with the time travel!
Monday, August 29, 2011
Friday, August 19, 2011
So much time and so little to do. Wait a minute. Strike that. Reverse it.
Ah Willy Wonka. Still a favourite. And quoted all the time, at least in our house. Anyway - on to the post:
I am going to make a list. Not that this is something I never do. People make lists all the time: grocery lists, birthday lists, to-do lists, magic-powers-I-wish-I-had lists, even the hideously named “honey-do” lists. BTW: should some future husband of mine be reading this, and should I at some point refer to a honey-do list you must –immediately – dump me at the side of some deserted grid road, with nothing but a compass and the clothes on my back. No penalties or punishments for said desertion.
However, I’ve been having some list-related issues lately. Not with actual written lists, the problem comes with the lists I’ve been working on in my head. Every night for the past month (a month filled with all the to-do things one worries about when you’re moving and selling your house) I’ve spent the last minutes before sleep – on the nights I do sleep – going over all the things that I didn’t get done that day. And then I get worried. The panic of never getting it all done in time sets in.
This finally came to a head – and ended, for good – when I was in the usual panic over the long list of things not done that day when smart brain (the brain I should listen to far more often) suggested I make a list of what I HAD accomplished that day. As it turned out, it was quite a long list. I had been looking at the empty part of the glass. And that is certainly not my usual way. I like the way someone else has put it: "Look! A glass! With stuff in it! And room for more stuff!". There is not a day long enough to get everything done in that one day. No matter what I do, it will take days. All I really have to worry about is making sure I do get something done every day. And I do.
Back to the topic at hand: next week there is an engineer coming to make a report on the basement and general construction of the house.This is a must, particularly in Regina, with its shifting ground. No one wants to buy a house and then find out that it needs to have the basement completely re-done! This means that there truly are things that MUST get done this weekend. And it involves things like taking things to the dump. I keep thinking that all that has to go is some garbage and a box spring and mattress. But there are dead things in the back yard (inanimate things, like an old Tonka truck, a BBQ that big puppy murdered and some broken lawn chairs) that need to go too. Can’t forget them, I only have the truck for an afternoon; don’t want to leave junk behind for a new owner to deal with.
So a list must be made. A list that will have all the things that need to get cleaned/moved/stored/mowed/whatevered before Monday dawns. And then I get the pleasure of checking each item off as it is done. And not just by me, the three of us will be very busy beavers this weekend! Avanté!
I am going to make a list. Not that this is something I never do. People make lists all the time: grocery lists, birthday lists, to-do lists, magic-powers-I-wish-I-had lists, even the hideously named “honey-do” lists. BTW: should some future husband of mine be reading this, and should I at some point refer to a honey-do list you must –immediately – dump me at the side of some deserted grid road, with nothing but a compass and the clothes on my back. No penalties or punishments for said desertion.
However, I’ve been having some list-related issues lately. Not with actual written lists, the problem comes with the lists I’ve been working on in my head. Every night for the past month (a month filled with all the to-do things one worries about when you’re moving and selling your house) I’ve spent the last minutes before sleep – on the nights I do sleep – going over all the things that I didn’t get done that day. And then I get worried. The panic of never getting it all done in time sets in.
This finally came to a head – and ended, for good – when I was in the usual panic over the long list of things not done that day when smart brain (the brain I should listen to far more often) suggested I make a list of what I HAD accomplished that day. As it turned out, it was quite a long list. I had been looking at the empty part of the glass. And that is certainly not my usual way. I like the way someone else has put it: "Look! A glass! With stuff in it! And room for more stuff!". There is not a day long enough to get everything done in that one day. No matter what I do, it will take days. All I really have to worry about is making sure I do get something done every day. And I do.
Back to the topic at hand: next week there is an engineer coming to make a report on the basement and general construction of the house.This is a must, particularly in Regina, with its shifting ground. No one wants to buy a house and then find out that it needs to have the basement completely re-done! This means that there truly are things that MUST get done this weekend. And it involves things like taking things to the dump. I keep thinking that all that has to go is some garbage and a box spring and mattress. But there are dead things in the back yard (inanimate things, like an old Tonka truck, a BBQ that big puppy murdered and some broken lawn chairs) that need to go too. Can’t forget them, I only have the truck for an afternoon; don’t want to leave junk behind for a new owner to deal with.
So a list must be made. A list that will have all the things that need to get cleaned/moved/stored/mowed/whatevered before Monday dawns. And then I get the pleasure of checking each item off as it is done. And not just by me, the three of us will be very busy beavers this weekend! Avanté!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Best thing I've heard all day
And boy, I've heard some things today. Things like "you're first on the list, it should be half an hour". It was an half hour. AFTER I'd already waited two hours. I spent two and a half hours waiting to hear my doctor say "no, that's not really effective, we'll try a different treatment". I already knew attempt # 1 wasn't working (ten good nights, four hellish nights, every two weeks? No, not good), I really only needed a prescription for something different. Which I got. Less than sixty seconds with the doctor for 2.5 hours of waiting.
Also, during that long down time (yes, I had a book. I read it. All of it. And three magazines that were sorely out of date), I heard a girl -woman? female? - tell the person she was with that they couldn't date each other because "you are just...so...you, is all". Hope that cleared it up for the boy - man? male?- because it just confused the bejeebers out of me.
Anyway, whilst roaming the drugstore waiting for some new magic drug to still the restless legs, I heard this line: "oh hey wait whoa just a minute now".
Read that line. Think about it. Clearly, someone objecting to a suggestion, and given that we're in a store a purchasing suggestion. Think about situations where someone might say something like that. Now here's the actual speaker:
A six year old boy. With his mother and little sister. Responding to his mother's suggestion of a brownie and cookie purchase. He sounded like a highly sceptical - not to mention grumpy - nintety year old. It made my day. A day which had been frustrating, so the laugh was welcome. I have no idea if he talked her out of the sweeties!
Also, during that long down time (yes, I had a book. I read it. All of it. And three magazines that were sorely out of date), I heard a girl -woman? female? - tell the person she was with that they couldn't date each other because "you are just...so...you, is all". Hope that cleared it up for the boy - man? male?- because it just confused the bejeebers out of me.
Anyway, whilst roaming the drugstore waiting for some new magic drug to still the restless legs, I heard this line: "oh hey wait whoa just a minute now".
Read that line. Think about it. Clearly, someone objecting to a suggestion, and given that we're in a store a purchasing suggestion. Think about situations where someone might say something like that. Now here's the actual speaker:
A six year old boy. With his mother and little sister. Responding to his mother's suggestion of a brownie and cookie purchase. He sounded like a highly sceptical - not to mention grumpy - nintety year old. It made my day. A day which had been frustrating, so the laugh was welcome. I have no idea if he talked her out of the sweeties!
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
If I ran the meetings
I know business meetings seems to be an odd thing to post after such a long absence, but so be it. I really shouldn't be posting at all, I've way too much to get done. Which is what has me thinking about meetings.
First, though, a side track to grade 7. I took a speed reading class. Best class ever. I was already a speedy reader. All you had to do was read what was assigned and then write a comprehension test. If you failed, then you had a class lesson to pay attention to. If you passed above a certain percent...you just got to read for the remainder of the class.I always got to read. For the whole class, and get a credit for it. Talk about easy A! Throw in some cooking and that would have been the bestest class in the world. So to speak.
When there are long drawn out office meetings, I'd like to be able to iron things. Or fold laundry. Or run a lint roller over things. Or mend things. Or any other quiet thing that can be done without disrupting said meeting that I have a hard time finding time for at home. Things that need to be done but that always end up on the bottom of the "chores to do tonight" list. As long as you can pass a test at the end of the meeting to prove you have been paying attention, you're ok with getting things quietly done at future meetings. Perhaps with some periodical snap quizzes to keep you on your toes. And maybe put the knitting down if it's your turn to speak.
Note to MayB: get this working at union meetings. You'd be able to stock an entire store or ten with knitted things!
First, though, a side track to grade 7. I took a speed reading class. Best class ever. I was already a speedy reader. All you had to do was read what was assigned and then write a comprehension test. If you failed, then you had a class lesson to pay attention to. If you passed above a certain percent...you just got to read for the remainder of the class.I always got to read. For the whole class, and get a credit for it. Talk about easy A! Throw in some cooking and that would have been the bestest class in the world. So to speak.
When there are long drawn out office meetings, I'd like to be able to iron things. Or fold laundry. Or run a lint roller over things. Or mend things. Or any other quiet thing that can be done without disrupting said meeting that I have a hard time finding time for at home. Things that need to be done but that always end up on the bottom of the "chores to do tonight" list. As long as you can pass a test at the end of the meeting to prove you have been paying attention, you're ok with getting things quietly done at future meetings. Perhaps with some periodical snap quizzes to keep you on your toes. And maybe put the knitting down if it's your turn to speak.
Note to MayB: get this working at union meetings. You'd be able to stock an entire store or ten with knitted things!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Stuff is growing...I guess
Remember the garden plot? 'Cause I do, vaguely.
I have good cause to remember the beginning of July last year. At that point, I'd been in the garden three to four times a week, starting with the planting in May. This year? Five times.
Do I mean Five times a week? No, I mean five times altogether. Twice for planting, once (for thirty seconds) to see what had died, a fourth time to replace what had died (took two minutes) and once to weed.Which lasted perhaps a minute.
No, I'm not anti-weeding. I'm anti being bitten by thousands of mosquitoes. I pulled up one thistle, a thistle so tall it was mid-thigh on me. And for my pains received many many mosquito bites. So many it looked like I had the chicken pox.
I tried to go out last night. Honestly, I did. But...just getting out of the car and taking a couple of steps landed me in clouds of mosquitoes and a dozen new mosquito bites. So I got back in the car. And killed all the mosquitoes that had managed to get in the car. I guess I am partly to blame as I didn't get out there until early evening when they're at their worst.
I know from the minute I spent of taking out the thistle plant that some things are growing. Potatoes appear to be up; couldn't tell you if they all are, as I wasn't willing to stay and count. Not to mention taking the time to figure out what was a weed and what was a potato plant.
Peas are also up; I guess they really do like cool wet weather God bless them. There seemed to be some sort of green fuzz where carrots and parsnips were planted, but I didn't really check. Could be moss, given the weather. The onions? Yeah, they're there, but I couldn't tell the difference between onions and grass. And I won't be able to until I can get some weeding done. And I'm not going to do any weeding...unless. Hmmm. I have, on loan, a bee suit. No, not a costume. An apiarist's bee suit. Surely even Saskatchewan mosquitoes couldn't get through a bee suit? I can be crazy lady out in the garden lot in a bee suit. All I need is a hot sunny day, a light breeze and time off work to go to the garden in the middle of the day.
On a vaguely related note: I've met a number of people that mosquitoes don't bite. I've seen it with my own eyes, in fact. How does that happen? Is there some old wives tale? Eat lots of garlic and they won't bother you? Not that it would be garlic, of course. I eat a ton and mosquitoes love me. Maybe it's the other way around. Don't eat any garlic and the mosquitoes keep away!
I have good cause to remember the beginning of July last year. At that point, I'd been in the garden three to four times a week, starting with the planting in May. This year? Five times.
Do I mean Five times a week? No, I mean five times altogether. Twice for planting, once (for thirty seconds) to see what had died, a fourth time to replace what had died (took two minutes) and once to weed.Which lasted perhaps a minute.
No, I'm not anti-weeding. I'm anti being bitten by thousands of mosquitoes. I pulled up one thistle, a thistle so tall it was mid-thigh on me. And for my pains received many many mosquito bites. So many it looked like I had the chicken pox.
I tried to go out last night. Honestly, I did. But...just getting out of the car and taking a couple of steps landed me in clouds of mosquitoes and a dozen new mosquito bites. So I got back in the car. And killed all the mosquitoes that had managed to get in the car. I guess I am partly to blame as I didn't get out there until early evening when they're at their worst.
I know from the minute I spent of taking out the thistle plant that some things are growing. Potatoes appear to be up; couldn't tell you if they all are, as I wasn't willing to stay and count. Not to mention taking the time to figure out what was a weed and what was a potato plant.
Peas are also up; I guess they really do like cool wet weather God bless them. There seemed to be some sort of green fuzz where carrots and parsnips were planted, but I didn't really check. Could be moss, given the weather. The onions? Yeah, they're there, but I couldn't tell the difference between onions and grass. And I won't be able to until I can get some weeding done. And I'm not going to do any weeding...unless. Hmmm. I have, on loan, a bee suit. No, not a costume. An apiarist's bee suit. Surely even Saskatchewan mosquitoes couldn't get through a bee suit? I can be crazy lady out in the garden lot in a bee suit. All I need is a hot sunny day, a light breeze and time off work to go to the garden in the middle of the day.
On a vaguely related note: I've met a number of people that mosquitoes don't bite. I've seen it with my own eyes, in fact. How does that happen? Is there some old wives tale? Eat lots of garlic and they won't bother you? Not that it would be garlic, of course. I eat a ton and mosquitoes love me. Maybe it's the other way around. Don't eat any garlic and the mosquitoes keep away!
Thursday, June 16, 2011
A test that really isn't.
We have regular fire drills at this office. I am one of the red hat wearers, charged with making sure everyone is out of my assigned section of the building. This is not a difficult job. In fact, the test itself is hardly a test at all. Maybe all we're really drilling is out ability to walk. Because is sure ain't no test of how we respond to a possible fire.
The thing is, it is always planned. Fire alarm will go off on Day X at Y o'clock. Exit the building calmly. Not hard to do well when everyone is all primed and ready to go. I wanted a fire drill that arrived with no warning. Just the alarm going off unannounced some day. See how well we do, find out if there are things we could do better.
That isn't going to happen. Why not? Well...because if people thought there was a fire, they might panic. And someone might get hurt. I still think it's better to know now if there will be an all out panic instead of in the middle of an actual fire. Although, I don't know what we'd do about it. Can you fire someone for losing their cool during an unplanned fire drill?
The thing is, it is always planned. Fire alarm will go off on Day X at Y o'clock. Exit the building calmly. Not hard to do well when everyone is all primed and ready to go. I wanted a fire drill that arrived with no warning. Just the alarm going off unannounced some day. See how well we do, find out if there are things we could do better.
That isn't going to happen. Why not? Well...because if people thought there was a fire, they might panic. And someone might get hurt. I still think it's better to know now if there will be an all out panic instead of in the middle of an actual fire. Although, I don't know what we'd do about it. Can you fire someone for losing their cool during an unplanned fire drill?
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Life gets Interesting.
So, there I was chatting with The Boy in the kitchen when it hit me. No, he didn't hit me. Nothing physical hit me, it was a coincidence, a strange sense of sort completing a circle. Here's the story:
A while ago...say 16 years ago, I had a birthday. Yup, I have one every year. That year, though, quite a bit happened. First of all, now that the family had increased and we had a baby and a toddler, my husband and I bought a house. Possession of the house took place the week of my birthday. Pretty awesome present eh?
I got some other things for my birthday though. I found out that the aforementioned husband was not going to be moving into the new house. And that he had been having an affair for ages. Since I was two months pregnant with the baby who was not even one at that point. So for my birthday I lost my marriage and gained a house I couldn't afford and single parent hood with a toddler and a nine month old baby. Yeah, not the best birthday I've had. In fact...yes, I can say that it was the second worst birthday ever.
In fact, that whole ugly situation is part of the reason I want to leave the house. And it is entirely the reason I have no regrets, no happy memories to say good-bye to when I leave.
At the time having a mortgage was horrible; I thought of how nice it would have been to have half of the down payment as a cushion for the hard times I knew were coming. I knew, as well, that I wouldn't be able to keep up with looking after the house. If you own a house, you need to be able to make repairs yourself or have the wherewithal to pay someone else to do it. I had neither, so it fell apart.
Now, this is not a feel sorry for me post. In fact, it is quite the opposite. The fact that it was a mortgage and not a rental means that even in the state that it is in I have a house with equity that I can and will be using. Indeed, that is what saved me when I nearly had a breakdown over worry about the house. The house will be sold to someone who wants a nice neighbourhood but can't afford a perfect house, and I will move somewhere that has a landlord who is responsible for maintenance. Yeah!
The big thing is, though...things appear to be coming together this week. The meeting with the bank, finding a place that suits and a way to make it happen, even if the house doesn't sell right away. So much happening this week that is good for me and my family. And what week is it? It's the week of my birthday. And what day am I making arrangements with the bank on? The same day that we took possession and everything fell apart 16 years ago. Full circle. It may have taken some time, but perhaps now when I think of birthdays that were somewhat overwhelming I'll think about this year, not that one.
A while ago...say 16 years ago, I had a birthday. Yup, I have one every year. That year, though, quite a bit happened. First of all, now that the family had increased and we had a baby and a toddler, my husband and I bought a house. Possession of the house took place the week of my birthday. Pretty awesome present eh?
I got some other things for my birthday though. I found out that the aforementioned husband was not going to be moving into the new house. And that he had been having an affair for ages. Since I was two months pregnant with the baby who was not even one at that point. So for my birthday I lost my marriage and gained a house I couldn't afford and single parent hood with a toddler and a nine month old baby. Yeah, not the best birthday I've had. In fact...yes, I can say that it was the second worst birthday ever.
In fact, that whole ugly situation is part of the reason I want to leave the house. And it is entirely the reason I have no regrets, no happy memories to say good-bye to when I leave.
At the time having a mortgage was horrible; I thought of how nice it would have been to have half of the down payment as a cushion for the hard times I knew were coming. I knew, as well, that I wouldn't be able to keep up with looking after the house. If you own a house, you need to be able to make repairs yourself or have the wherewithal to pay someone else to do it. I had neither, so it fell apart.
Now, this is not a feel sorry for me post. In fact, it is quite the opposite. The fact that it was a mortgage and not a rental means that even in the state that it is in I have a house with equity that I can and will be using. Indeed, that is what saved me when I nearly had a breakdown over worry about the house. The house will be sold to someone who wants a nice neighbourhood but can't afford a perfect house, and I will move somewhere that has a landlord who is responsible for maintenance. Yeah!
The big thing is, though...things appear to be coming together this week. The meeting with the bank, finding a place that suits and a way to make it happen, even if the house doesn't sell right away. So much happening this week that is good for me and my family. And what week is it? It's the week of my birthday. And what day am I making arrangements with the bank on? The same day that we took possession and everything fell apart 16 years ago. Full circle. It may have taken some time, but perhaps now when I think of birthdays that were somewhat overwhelming I'll think about this year, not that one.
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