Sunday, November 28, 1999 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

all to myself

So everyone is gone, and I have the place to myself. What to do, what to do? Well, web browse for starters, and get caught up on all the fights in journal land. Heck I’m not even gonna comment, except to say most Canadians are nice.

I also went looking for costume ideas for the 12 days of Christmas. I got a call from one of the teachers at lunch saying this was what they were doing, and could I help out? Of course I said yes. hmm, how much stuff can I convince them to buy from me?

And here I sits, updating my journal like mad. I have been jotting down notes all week on my calendar too. I have two pot roasts in the oven, and need to tackle some potatoes too. Maybe I’ll get creative and do a real big traditional Sunday dinner spread. Maybe.

Y’know how they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions? Gee, I think I’m half-way there if that’s all its gonna take.

I also decided to write more like how I speak. It takes less time, for one – no more trying to figure out the proper wording for things, and heck, you get to know me better! Aren’tcha glad?

Saturday, November 27, 1999 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

no title

I spent the morning working on more kitchen cabintes. I discovered more hardware missing, and a drawer back I can’t find. But I got a whole drawer unit together and placed in its proper spot. We move one peice of counter top onto the big unit that had the table top on it, and a piece of plywood where the counter *was*, where I had also put in the drawrs. Follow? Oh well, there’ll be pictures later. You can oooo and ahhhh then.

The afternoon was spent at practise for the Church Christmas concert, which is mostly a play. The girls are angels with one line they all say together, and I narrate a paragraph at the end. I got into an interesting discussion with a friend, a very large truck-drivin’ man, who thought it highly amusing that I had been working on my kitchen all by myself. I tried to explain that I really was, he could even come down and see, and anyways it was because I was the one who really wanted it done, so I should do it since Ron was busy working on his book. I explained my whole rationale about men & women, and he laughed even harder.
Ron said after it was because here I was explaining to this guy, a deacon, the man’s place in the household. I still don’t get why it was funny. Ron even said I was cute.

And on a final note, if you haven’t heard, Al has devastating news. I just can’t think of anything to say after that.

Friday, November 26, 1999 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

Coincidence?

Well, I got up and Wendy was on my mind. Its been a long time since we spent any time together since she had the nerve to get a job and all. I’m missing those Friday afternoon visits at her house. The kids would all play, or fight, inside, outside – whatever. Wendy and I would sit, sip tea, gossip and solve the worlds problems. I miss that.
So i called, and for a second, it was like the phone wasn’t working right. SO I speed-dialed again. She’s #1, but you knew that. When she answers the phone, she knew it was me, because she had just tried to call.
That’s why the phone was screwy, becasue she was calling me just as I was calling her. We do that all the time. That’s what best friends are for.
So later in the day, we stopped in to our pastor’s place to pick something up for the bulletin. After a nice visit and chat with Dave’s mom, we realized she actually knows my grandparents! How freaky was that?

Then I piled all the kids in the truck to go to youth group, and when we got there I was told next week would be the last one before Christmas. Whoopee! This means more free time! I mean, the other leaders were a little sad it was going to finish for the holidays sooner, but hey, it was their decision. The kids have a lot to do between now and Christmas, youth group or otherwise, so it was a good decision. I find I’m a little less scheduled around the holidays, so its a real break for us. The store’s not near so busy, and we hardly have any company, and only go out to a couple places. I’m looking forward to it.

But not the cleaning and getting the house ready and decorating and shopping, that’s what I need the extra time for, I just remembered. Blech.

Thursday, November 25, 1999 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

in which I try to relate funny stories

I am funnier in real life. I have a zillion stories to tell, all hysterical, all real. Told, of course, in the funniest of ways. I wonder if they will transfer well to print. You will miss the hands gesturing, the facial expressions, and the all-important tone. I have anecdotes, one-liners, and a whole stand-up routine if I ever get it all out of my head and down on paper.

Once I played a game at a party where you couldn’t move your hands while talking. I could barely speak, I tried so hard. I lost.

Once when Addison was little, we were at the mall, and he was giving me a hard time, as 2 year old are wont to do. I grasped his hand, leaned down to his ear, and through clenched teeth said “Will you smarten up??” or some such parental threat. He immediately flattened himself on the ground, cowering, pleading, “PLEASE DON’T BEAT ME MOMMY!” at the top of his lungs.
He thought it was funny.

Once a little boy was talking to me, while roaming his hands all over me, as children sometimes do. You may notice a child likes to touch a person while talking to them. Well, in the midst of conversation, he honked right on my boobs. He never noticed, so I ignored him.
His mother, however was mighty shocked since she was standing right there.

Once my mother asked me to dinner with “the girls”. Turns out it was a surprise birthday party for Mom’s boyfriend’s ex-wife, who also happens to be a lesbian. Not that I have a problem with that, its just I had never met any of them either, and it *would* be too weird. I’ve too many in-laws, ex-laws and out-laws to do it again.

Just explaining my family relations gives people a headache. We’re a nuclear family alright. We’ve achieved meltdown.

I tell my mother she lays so many guilt trips on me, the Jewish community should make her an honorary Yenta.

One time when Dave & Wendy were over for card night, I made some tea in the coffe pot (as usual) and they all, including Ron, gave me a hard time over filling it up with hot water.
“It will wear out faster if you do that.” says Wendy.
“But I’m left-handed!” I said. “The hot water tap is on that side and I automatically reach for it!” The pot is in my right hand.
“So you could switch hands.” says Dave.
“So we could switch the tap!” says I.

You know how people always say “Her kitchen is so clean you can eat off the floor!” ? You can eat off my floor, too. But not because it’s clean.

I hate doing dishes too. When they’re *all* dirty you have to wash them. Again.

I remember my maternal grandmother telling us (me, my aunt & 2 uncles – all around the same age) that we were not to play in the creek, because, and I quote: “So help me God, if you drown in that crick you better not come crying home to me!”
This was sometimes interspersed with comments like,
“You had better not wander down to those train tracks and get hit by a train, or by God I will KILL you!”
“If you get lost, you had better get lost good, because if you come back home you will be beat within an inch of your life!”
It’s a miracle we even survived childhood just hearing what *might* happen to us.

One time my aunt Tammy and I went to the playground (this always gets her going). She picked up a friend on the way, who I know didn’t like me. Well, they got up in that rocket, the one you climb on, and wouldn’t play with me. You know how kids are. So I showed them, I walked right under that metal rocket ship cage, just proving how their exclusion right over my head didn’t bother me one bit.
That’s when they dropped the large rock on my head. Tammy still insists it had nothing to do with her.
Crying and screaming, blood pouring from the gash on my head I stormed back to my grandparent’s house, Tammy hot on my heels. Man, she was terrified of the trouble she was in, and rightly so. This side of the family is Irish and Catholic, so you know she was getting an earfull.
In between Nanny moaning how her heart was going to give out, and how my mother was going to hold them responsible, Papa was alternately soothing & tending to me while giving Tammy the verbal lashing of her lifetime to that point. Jesus, Mother Mary and Joseph were involved too, but I can’t remember exactly how. Tammy was screaming and crying too, so it was hard to hear with all of us going on at once.

Oi, now I’ll have to do a whole ‘nother page filled with childhood stories.

And this is inherited. Not only is my mother a ventriloquist (I swear I heard her the other day while I was greasing out.. I mean, talking to the children), she is *happy* I am getting what she says I gave out.

Today Meaghan said, “Mommy, Daddy, this work is too difficult.”
Ron and I exchanged curious glances.
“Meaghan, sweetie,” I said, “If you can use BigWords like ‘difficult’ properly in a sentence, I think you can handle questions like what is 13 plus 24.”

One last story, this one involving Wendy & Sarah at about 4 years old. We had gone over for lunch, and as we were leaving I asked Sarah, “Now what do you say to Wendy for having us over?”
She goes over to Wendy, places her tiny hand on her shoulder, looks her square in the eye, and says:

“Next time cook something I like.”

Tuesday, November 23, 1999 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

the joys of self-employment

It was a very bad moody busy day today.

For some reason I was grumbly during my usual class. I think I got into a disagreement with my MIL, I’m not sure, she wouldn’t ever say if we did. Things people say have been tickingme off more than usual. It was suggested (by MIL) that maybe it was just me, but no, after that, I realized it was everyone else who had chosen today (or the weekend) to collectively drive me crazy.

After that, my shipment I had been waiting for arrived, so did NINE more orders in the mail. I sent myself into a tizzy finishing the tissue hats, typing in the invoices, sorting out which were going first to the post office (had to get there before 4 p.m.), and misplacing someone’s MasterCard number. I discovered this *after* her order left of course. Free goods on me, people!
I also don’t have enough to fill everyone’s orders (will they ever stop coming in??), which made me feel really bad, so I sent out all the oldest ones first.
The girls tried to help, but it made me more confused becasue I didn’t know where people’s orders & cheques were within 5 seconds, and I had to recount everything becasue they always came up short, or over.
Be careful what you pray for, it may come true. What made me think I could do this, anyway?

Monday, November 22, 1999 in I Forgot To Pick A Category

just a weird day

Today Addison had a day off school because of Teacher Development and also Parent/Student/Teacher meeting. Yes I know the word student in in there. The student sits in on the meetings. How are we going to talk about real concerns with said child sitting right there? Not that I have anything to worry about.
I told them to give him more work, harder work, and as much as possible. I mean, you can only sit through so much of “Addison is so fabulous..”. Well, okay, they did point out a couple of things he could improve, like his handwriting.

He also spent an hour or so over at Ron’s parent’s, borrowing books. George has a few roomfulls, and since Ad has read all the books here, it was a logical choice.

Then, while I was waiting for my one Monday night student to show up, I decided to tidy up the store. One thing led to another, and by the time I realized she wasn’t showing up, I had dug out quite a bit. Most of it went right back where it was. But neater, thank God.

At one point in the day I was outside, staring at a bit of beige fluff on the ground, trying to figure out what it was the chickens were pecking.
Turns out it was a rabbit. And not much left of one, at that.