birthday baby & irritating customers

Today is Meaghan’s birthday. She is seven years old.
My baby is no longer a baby. Short, yes. Often mistaken for a younger child, yes. Usually a four year old. Until she opens her mouth, that is. Her mastery of sarcasm leaves a lot of people aghast.
I’m so proud.

Today’s customer service moment went something like this:

CUSTOMER: “I’m looking for snowman hats”

ME, polite & helpful: “These ones?”

CUSTOMER: “Yes, those look like the right ones. Are they the right size?” She furrows her brows, trying to remember.

ME, explaining patiently: “This is the only size they come in.”

CUSTOMER, confused: “Remember the class we did…?”

ME, thinking: (Yeah, I remember exactly. I taught it, I planned it, I designed it. Of course I remember!)
ME out loud: “Yes, these are the hats we used.”

CUSTOMER, still trying to remember: “I’m not sure if they’re the right size…”

ME, rolling my eyes: “These are the ones.” I’m pretty sure. Dead certain, in fact.

CUSTOMER, eyes lit up: “Do you have any of those bowling pins we used to make the snowman?” She has an idea.

ME, curious: “I might have one, why?”

CUSTOMER: “I want to check and see if this hat is the right size.”


It’s days like these I want to go back to bed.



I don’t believe in auras, but the word fits with what I want to describe, so I’ll use it. I do think of certain colors when I see certain people in my mind’s eye. I have my own colors. Not ones the necessarily look good on me, but ones evoking feelings and emotions. That’s what I mean.

My world is a visual world, that’s why the words, those hard, defined *things* are so hard to express. Let’s use colors instead, shall we? I see them inside and out.

I used to be black.
Black for sin.
Block it out.

I used to be red.
Red is pain.
A daily death.

Blue was there.
Blue is sadness.
Icy cold.

My colors have changed.
Crystalized like a butterfly.
Tempered in the fire.

They have grown into Green.
The color of spring.
Kermit the frog, who is happy being just a frog.

The edges are White.
Lazy clouds on a summer’s day.

Pink makes an appearance.

And an underlining of Yellow.

A rainbow of colors, tumbling in the kaleidoscope. The old colors no longer the dominant ones in the scheme. Fading to shadows of their former selves, the new colors bright, painting over the old.


Apathetic is the word of the week.
I seem to have lost my fire for just about everything. Just floating along, doing the bare minimum required. I don’t want to do anything anymore. Oh, to be back in the days when the kids were smaller, when choices were easier, when there was a smaller list of things to do.

I’m tired of the store.
I’m tired of working on that stupid catalogue.
I’m tired of erasing schoolbooks.
I’m tired of the girls being underfoot all day.
I’m tired of repeating myself.
I’m tired of picking up after everyone else.
I’m tired of an unfinished house.
I’m tired of “making do”.
I’m tired of clothes that don’t fit.
I’m tired of looking dumpy, just like a housewife.
I’m even tired of food, but not tired of eating.

And yet, to do any different seems to require Herculean effort. A compromise of ideals. A giving in.

And so I plod on.

busy day

Today I feel like I did something. Actually, I feel like I did a hundred somethings. Ron must’ve got a really good night’s sleep because he was out of bed even before the alarm went off. He even brought me over a cup of hot tea for when I was fully awake. Chipperness in the morning like that really irritates me.
He decided it was time to cut down two of the trees in front of the house. We wanted them to go, partly because people have a hard time backing out around them. It’s easy when you get the hang of it, but I know it screws people up. Especialy women. I know that sounds sexist, but its true.
Anyway, he had one down by the time Addison left for school. The other he wanted me to help lean on so it wouldn’t hit the power line. Nothing like some panicked adrenalin in the morning to wake you up! At one point, it was leaning in the wrong direction, and I screamed for him to stop. When he stopped cutting & looked up, the tree was just leaning there all on its own. But this boy knows what he’s doing, and it came down without hitting anything. Well, a few pushes from us, and a couple extra cuts helped.

The plan for the morning was for him to sit with the girls and direct/erase/plan their schoolwork, and I could sit in the office at the computer and work at all the piled up things that were… shall we say… delayed.
I tackled the taxes first, at least my end, he does his side of course, which took most of the morning. I thought I discovered that I had overpaid a supplier, but no, I had just lost my copy of the invoices, but then found them, still in the office, under some scrap paper and two potatoes. Dirt included. Such is the price in having an office that opens to the outdoors. And its the most convenient entrance to the house. I can’t wait to get the back room cleaned out, then the office can be a mudroom, and all the office stuff can move out back with the wood stove.
About 10, Ron popped his head in the office to ask, “Wasn’t it bookmobile day today?”
Eeek! I’d almost forgot!
The lady on the bus was her usual self, and we managed to come away with only 20 or so books. We’d forgotten some novels for Addison like he asked, but we did find a For Better or Worse book, which made up for it. So you know when we got back to the house, that blew away the rest of the time until lunch.

I’ve already finished one book; it was a youth novel that was in the wrong section, but it was still reading material, and I finished it over supper. Both Addison and Sarah said they didn’t want to read it, but give it a couple weeks and they’ll be looking for it. I also got part-way thru an Erma Bombeck, although I’m not sure my sides will survive. I also read out a spelling test to Meaghan at the same time. She got all twenty words right, and said they weren’t even hard!
Plus I skimmed thru a love story. Hardly looked at the other four I lugged home. I hope they last the three weeks.

This afternoon, I typed receipts into QuickBooks. Sales are getting more consistent, and starting to pick up. I hope my order comes in soon, the envelopes on my desk are piling up. I’m sure it won’t be until we get back from Halifax this weekend.
Ron decided since it looked like it was going to be crappy weather, that he would take a much-needed trip to town and elsewheres. He was on a hunt for a new part for my stove, plus a trip to an office in Woodstock for some type of finish-up computer work. He also just called (at 8:30) to say he was in Nackawic and on his way home; he had invited himself to a friend’s for supper. But at least he’s done. I forgot to ask if he found the stove part.

I managed to get the girls to tidy up some of the papers by their desks. It honestly looked like something exploded in the living room. But dangle some computer time in front of them, and they’ll do all kinds of chores that they’d otherwise forget.
When reiterating my day, the phrase “laundry list” comes to mind, so I’ll tell you I washed one load, and dried another load from yesterday. So there. i’m sure you don’t want to hear about every single thing I did, I can’t even remember half of it. the only odd thing was that nobody dropped by and the phone barely rang. I even picked it up once to see if it worked, but I knew it did, since I had been off & on the net. Hmm…. maybe that’s why nobody called…………..

Adventures in Living

Today is Tuesday. That means Brownies & Guides for the girls, and Ladies Group for me. I skipped the group becasue I’m tired. Too tired for a gab session, even.

I also taught a class this morning, which was easier that I thought it would be. I had three students: Shirley (the mother in law) and Patti & Cindy. Patti’s daughter was sick so she came too. There were stern warnings all around that the girls were not to play. Ron stayed upstairs to make sure my girls got their work done.
I updated my web site some this afternoon. I added meta tags galore, and 3 (count ’em 3!!) new projects.
Now that I’m sitting here, I can’t think of the zillion things I was gonna say. I must have wrote six different entries in my head today. And they were in better English too.
So I’ll tweak the layout of this thing & see ya tomorrow.

Which came first, chickens or eggs?

I hate chickens.

Okay, I’ll clarify: I hate looking after the little cock-eyed buggers.
First off, its freakin’ cold outside this week, and I am not an outdoor person. Second, they’re stinky and they leave little “surprises” all over the place. They give me weird looks, and if they’re hungry (duh), they flock all around me when I approach with the little white bucket they know oh-so-well.
We don’t raise them in sterile wire mesh individual cages, either. A real coop, which Ron made out of logs with dovetail notches in the corners. Real straw on the floor. A sloped roof, which I keep forgetting about, that has a cross beam. My head makes contact with the beam every so often, when I’m at the back picking up eggs from the nesting boxes.
This time of the year is especially fun, because the eggs sometimes get frozen, which makes them crack big time. Once, Addison found a half an egg, frozen solid. No sign of the other half, but the yolk was still there, along with most of the white. It had to be tossed out, obviously. The chickens would have eaten it, had it melted. That would be bad, becasue then they’d try and eat all the eggs. No point in feeding it to the dogs, either, because they can fit through the small chicken door, looking for more.
You also have to take out a jug of hot water, to melt the ice in the water dish. Grampy says the hot water freezes faster, but you gotta melt some of the ice to get some water in there for them to drink! When its this cold, it only takes an hour or so for it to freeze anyway. This means going out there at least three times. Thank God Addison does his part after school….
Egg production is down to as low as three a day, if any, mostly because of the cold. Some days they don’t even want to go outside. We let them wander all over the yard. They have been spotted by the side of the road, and also way down in the fields. They wander back by nightfall, don’t worry. We’ve had to stop selling the eggs until it warms up. When its 20 below (celcius), it sorta gets to everyone, even them. They hate being cooped up too.
Oh come on, where did you think that expression came from?? 🙂
I really do appreciate the eggs, even if I don’t eat many of them, and the breast meat is the first to go from the freezer. I won’t even stick a “but” in there….

Oh, and the time honoured question above?
It depends on your veiw point, really.
Humanistic/scientific: the egg, because it’s the simpler cellular structure.
Biblical: the chicken of course, want the verses? Now you don’t think it specifically mentions chickens do you?