I'm feeling rather territorial and ornery lately. I stomp my little foot at the slightest provocation and declare that everyone back off!! Whatever IT is - IT'S MINE!!!
With my current state of mind today is unfolding particularly poorly. My ire flared up at snarly comments made to me when I called to collect payment for an overdue invoice - it is 114 days overdue!!!! How dare they not pay MY bills?! After a customer made some nasty remarks she asked when she should call me back with payment status; my reply was that she needn't call back at all, if I hadn't received her payment by next Friday the account was getting sent to a collections agency. Ouch.
Also, I strongly dislike anyone, individuals or businesses, messing with MY computer network at the office. I've been working on getting a new antivirus program in place on our server and desktops. I'm not impressed with the support from the last antivirus provider so I'm switching to a different one. However, I'm beginning to have doubts about the new provider as their first agreement, covering off a three year term, had been set up with incorrect information. The corrected second agreement looked fine, but their Internet links for electronically agreeing to terms and signing the contract weren't working. After wasting both my time and my computer tech's time, it was determined that 'technology had failed us'. Wrong - the antivirus company, with its lousy support, had failed us. Not a very good start to our business relationship.
On a personal level I'm feeling particularly disheartened, succumbing to episodes of 'blues' as MY birthday approaches. I'm not terribly upset that I'll be - deep breath in - thirty nine years old. With my birthday as a self-imposed deadline for trying to get pregnant, I'm having difficulty accepting the fact that I will NOT be pregnant again. I feel like my body has betrayed me. I'm also cringing at the thought that I'll need to get rid of the baby swing, snugglie, bottle warmer, strollers, co-sleeper, wooden rocking horse, maternity and baby clothes and many other related items, many of which are unused as they were gathered when we were expecting last year.
Plans for MY birthday haven't gone well either. Usually I like to take things as they come, I don't rock the boat and I certainly don't like to impose my own agenda on others. However, this year is different. I've just been terribly rude on the phone to a loved one about plans for my birthday. They wanted to get together to celebrate; not knowing of course, that I've been making every effort not to celebrate it at all. I would rather just putter in the garden, disappear into a movie, read a book or even lock myself in a room and turn the lights out. Really. It's my birthday - my birthday is the one day of the year that should be truly MINE. If I don't want anything done or celebrated that's my prerogative. Can you hear my foot stamping childishly in the background?
So, in one fell swoop I've upset everybody: loved ones, myself, Daryle and I'm fairly certain my tantrum wasn't well received at the office. HAPPY F-ING BIRTHDAY!!!
Okay, time to settle down. This behaviour is very undignified. After arriving at home, Daryle calmly took in my ranting and raving and then said: "You've been wanting to have a visit, why don't we ask if we can spend Sunday with them?"
Oh.
Yes.
A moment or two to let his idea sink in. That would be lovely. Quick call to ask if that would be alright and of course to apologise for my terrible behaviour and it is done - we're going up for a visit on Sunday!
Friday, January 29, 2010
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
One
One Subject - that's all I need. What to write today? I'm stumped. Can't think of a single thing that may be even remotely interesting. I could write about Daniel's mindreading machine, our efforts to build his playground, or my latest activities in the garden, but none of these are inspiring me at the moment.
Truth be told, more than anything else at the moment, I'm excited that someone, ONE person other than friends and family, has actually read and commented on my blog! 1!!!! 1 person has read it! I can see myself years from now, a small following - HA!!! What am I thinking? That will never happen, but it thrills me that someone took the time to read one of my entries.
Thank-you, you've made my day!
Truth be told, more than anything else at the moment, I'm excited that someone, ONE person other than friends and family, has actually read and commented on my blog! 1!!!! 1 person has read it! I can see myself years from now, a small following - HA!!! What am I thinking? That will never happen, but it thrills me that someone took the time to read one of my entries.
Thank-you, you've made my day!
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Garden Rambles
With the recent stretch of mild sunny weather, I've been outside enjoying my garden. Bulbs are bursting through the ground, birds are already staking out their territories and tree buds are swelling. I can feel the push of nature to make the most of this fine weather. Although the calendar says we're still in the depths of winter, it seems that Mother Nature is itching to get on with the serious business of spring.
After making quite a racket in the trees, a pair of squirrels hurtle past me, chasing each other in a very friendly manner. Hmmm. They're not the only ones engaged in the race to reproduce. After they've scampered off I notice that my fine collection of chickweed is already flowering - AAACK! I'm already behind with weeding before my other plants have even woken up. Other chores beckon: laying down landscape fabric to be topped with bark mulch for certain pathways, terracing, edging with stones and starting the replacement of weeds with grass. I should make the most of this balmy weather and get working.
The unseasonable warmth is making every living thing livelier. Even I'm feeling a little more energetic than usual. Indoors, I've been sorting through cupboards and closets. Outdoors, I've been listening to my mp3 player and 'rocking out' as my neighbour's teen aged daughter puts it. Note to self: must modify 'rocking out' behaviour while gardening to a more subdued level; it just doesn't seem appropriate that my inner exuberation be on display to the world.
However, I'm not the only one full of energy, I see neighbours out walking and tidying up their yards. Both my grandfathers were gardeners, I wonder if they felt a renewed energy level in the spring when they began working outside again? Of course Grandpa S would have been working outdoors throughout the winter as that was his job, but did he feel the same joy when the plants began emerging? I know Grandpa A made every effort to begin his gardening season as early as possible. He had built a greenhouse and started many seedlings months ahead of the time they could be 'released' into the garden. I wish I could talk to both of them about their gardens, but time has robbed me of that pleasure.
Fortunately, I was able to spend time in both gardens. I remember the garden in Oxford as a magical place. Potted geraniums lined up like a little army were near the back door. The greenhouse, screened from the house by a tall hedge of lilacs, was like a gateway to the rear garden. Exploring further, among the redcurrant bushes, thickets of goldenrod reached for the sky and the verdant hues and heavenly scents of the mint bed sparkled with jewel-like beetles, their emerald-green bodies glistening in the sun. The front garden, though more restrained, was equally beautiful. A bed of yellow and red tulips surrounded a rosebush and an enormous pink hydrangea stood sentinel at the edge of the garden near the living room window. A clipped hedge of boxwood surrounded the small front garden and gave a sense of structure and orderliness.
Grandpa A's garden in Vancouver was a treasure as well. A small path led down the side of the house; narrow and dark between two houses, its tightness amplified the size of the back garden. Once into the back garden, beyond a small lawn and bed of asparagus, lay a pathway dividing the vegetable garden in half. The greenhouse on the left was filled with plants, trays and all sorts of interesting pots. Grandma's Christmas rose was nestled at the edge near the fence, and beans sprinted up the side of the garage. Renowned for his tomatoes, he grew rows and rows of them. He would carefully collect the seeds and label them for the next year's crops. Did he allow them to be openly pollinated or did he painstakingly manually pollinate them, trying to breed the perfect tomato? I guess I'll never know.
I wish I had known my grandfathers better. For example: if given the opportunity, would they have listened to music while they gardened or would they have preferred the noises inherent to their city gardens? Would they have approved of my methods of interplanting ornamentals with vegetables? What suggestions would they have about gardening on a hillside? Would Grandpa S have been able to teach me how to pleach? Would they have been enthusiastic about rescuing doomed plants destined to be bulldozed to make way for a new freeway?
Gardening is timeless, it is a direct connection to the earth with undercurrents of all the stirrings and energies of the seasons. It transcends time and place, tying generations together. Gardening is an outlet for our best and worst traits. We can peacefully tend our dear plants, creating our own vision of Eden, or wage a vicious and extended battle filled with hatred and disgust against disease, weeds and pests.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Devastation
Stunned and overwhelmed. Those are my feelings when I look at photos of the devastation from the earthquake in Haiti. So many people killed or injured, families torn apart, so much poverty to begin with that the people can’t begin to recover.
My life is so good, stable, safe and happy. My concerns are so trivial when compared to the Haitians trying to survive. I don’t have to worry about where our next meal will come from, where to find shelter or the whereabouts of my loved ones.
I don’t know where to start; I must do something, but what? I’ll donate some money to the Red Cross – they’ll be able to make the most of my contribution. But then what? I still feel that just doesn’t cut it.
Aside from my donation, I feel that all I can offer is a prayer. God bless the Haitians, give them the strength to carry on and give everyone the ability to give what they can towards their recovery.
My life is so good, stable, safe and happy. My concerns are so trivial when compared to the Haitians trying to survive. I don’t have to worry about where our next meal will come from, where to find shelter or the whereabouts of my loved ones.
I don’t know where to start; I must do something, but what? I’ll donate some money to the Red Cross – they’ll be able to make the most of my contribution. But then what? I still feel that just doesn’t cut it.
Aside from my donation, I feel that all I can offer is a prayer. God bless the Haitians, give them the strength to carry on and give everyone the ability to give what they can towards their recovery.
Monday, January 18, 2010
Bog Walking
Sunshine! Let's get out for a walk!
Daryle, Daniel and I are in such a rush to escape the house, that we fail to dress appropriately for our excursion into Burns Bog in search of the abandoned and sunken Komatsu. Our shoes are all woefully inadequate, what are we thinking? We're going for a walk in a bog for heaven's sake! It WILL be wet and soggy - guaranteed.
Off we traipse down the pipeline pathway, stepping gingerly around mucky areas and hopping over puddles. The pipeline path's muckiness should have been a warning, if it's this mucky here, imagine the state of the bog.
Now, how to get into the bog... I think I remember where the access point is. Let's see, there was a zig-zaggy pathway coming down from the residential area on the left, then a little trail down to the railway tracks. Ah, here we are! A few steps down the hill, across the tracks, and we're on the access path to the bog. Yes!
Soon we find a boardwalk leading into the depths of the bog, hoping that it will lead us to the sunken Komatsu bulldozer. When I explored the bog as a teen, the bulldozer was still quite visible, I wonder how much, if anything, is left above the surface now?
We slip-slide our way along the slick boardwalk. It is as slippery as a sheet of ice; my feet slip out from under me a few times but I manage not to fall. Small miracle. Daniel however is not so lucky. Distracted by the sounds of an approaching pair of beagles, he spins around to look at them. Spins and then... tumbles off the boardwalk into the bog, landing on a surprisingly dryish patch. Stunned, he just lays there, his legs poking up into the air, his bum almost under the boards. The dogs approach to sniff at him. I wonder if he hasn't moved yet in hopes that the dogs will join him in the bog and begin playing.
No such luck, the dogs didn't leap in, and I quickly give Daniel a hand back up onto the boardwalk. He's just fine, sustained a very minor little scratch on his finger. We continue our walk.
Each path we follow becomes a dead-end as we are simply not prepared to slosh through muck or water more than half an inch deep. Some trails are completely submerged in water while others are just so boggy that I'm sure we would have sunk up to our knees. Surprise, surprise - a bog being boggy? Again, what were we thinking when we left the house? Hopes of finding the Komatsu dwindle.
Eventually, after more slipping and sliding, we literally stumble across the Komatsu! It must be 90% submerged in the bog, a film of oily scunge surrounding it. I'm rather surprised that so much of the blade is visible, its width a good indication of the size of the submerged machine. Only a foot or so of a corner of the cab's roll-cage peeps out of the orangey-brown ooze. Encircled by the boardwalk it looks like quite an attraction, to be oohed and awed at by passers by. Daniel is not impressed. Daryle and I however are quite thrilled to find it; I think we came for a walk down here before we even began dating. Must be about 20 years ago, yikes.
Mission accomplished, we begin heading for home. The bog really is an amazing place, filled with darkness, birdsong and strange smells. The diversity of plants and birds is incredible, I could quite happily spend an afternoon identifying some of the flora and fauna. Emerging, we're embraced by the sunshine once again, revelling in the unseasonable warmth.
Throughout our trek, Daniel has been our meet-and-greet. He so easily engages people in conversation, talking to them about whatever happens to be on his mind. One moment he's moaning to us about how sore and tired his feet are, then he perks up and is all smiles to chat with someone. Several people we met during our walk now know that he is almost 6 years old, likes dogs, has a loose tooth, likes the colour yellow, has friends named Mommy and Daddy, and his favourite animal is a cow. Oh, and he shares the name Daniel with the fellow walking the two beagles, who also happens to be the local carpenter who does a lot of work in our neighbourhood.
Daniel is happy to be returning home before nightfall. At only 2pm he is concerned that it is getting dark! I wonder sometimes at his apparent lack of sense of time. The reality is that we've been out walking for only an hour and a half, not the entire afternoon as it must have felt to Daniel. Perhaps his sense of time relates directly to how much his feet hurt, he must have been in a lot of pain judging by the amount of whining. At last our tired and soggy feet carry us home. I love the feeling of returning home comfortably tired.
Daryle, Daniel and I are in such a rush to escape the house, that we fail to dress appropriately for our excursion into Burns Bog in search of the abandoned and sunken Komatsu. Our shoes are all woefully inadequate, what are we thinking? We're going for a walk in a bog for heaven's sake! It WILL be wet and soggy - guaranteed.
Off we traipse down the pipeline pathway, stepping gingerly around mucky areas and hopping over puddles. The pipeline path's muckiness should have been a warning, if it's this mucky here, imagine the state of the bog.
Now, how to get into the bog... I think I remember where the access point is. Let's see, there was a zig-zaggy pathway coming down from the residential area on the left, then a little trail down to the railway tracks. Ah, here we are! A few steps down the hill, across the tracks, and we're on the access path to the bog. Yes!
Soon we find a boardwalk leading into the depths of the bog, hoping that it will lead us to the sunken Komatsu bulldozer. When I explored the bog as a teen, the bulldozer was still quite visible, I wonder how much, if anything, is left above the surface now?
We slip-slide our way along the slick boardwalk. It is as slippery as a sheet of ice; my feet slip out from under me a few times but I manage not to fall. Small miracle. Daniel however is not so lucky. Distracted by the sounds of an approaching pair of beagles, he spins around to look at them. Spins and then... tumbles off the boardwalk into the bog, landing on a surprisingly dryish patch. Stunned, he just lays there, his legs poking up into the air, his bum almost under the boards. The dogs approach to sniff at him. I wonder if he hasn't moved yet in hopes that the dogs will join him in the bog and begin playing.
No such luck, the dogs didn't leap in, and I quickly give Daniel a hand back up onto the boardwalk. He's just fine, sustained a very minor little scratch on his finger. We continue our walk.
Each path we follow becomes a dead-end as we are simply not prepared to slosh through muck or water more than half an inch deep. Some trails are completely submerged in water while others are just so boggy that I'm sure we would have sunk up to our knees. Surprise, surprise - a bog being boggy? Again, what were we thinking when we left the house? Hopes of finding the Komatsu dwindle.
Eventually, after more slipping and sliding, we literally stumble across the Komatsu! It must be 90% submerged in the bog, a film of oily scunge surrounding it. I'm rather surprised that so much of the blade is visible, its width a good indication of the size of the submerged machine. Only a foot or so of a corner of the cab's roll-cage peeps out of the orangey-brown ooze. Encircled by the boardwalk it looks like quite an attraction, to be oohed and awed at by passers by. Daniel is not impressed. Daryle and I however are quite thrilled to find it; I think we came for a walk down here before we even began dating. Must be about 20 years ago, yikes.
Mission accomplished, we begin heading for home. The bog really is an amazing place, filled with darkness, birdsong and strange smells. The diversity of plants and birds is incredible, I could quite happily spend an afternoon identifying some of the flora and fauna. Emerging, we're embraced by the sunshine once again, revelling in the unseasonable warmth.
Throughout our trek, Daniel has been our meet-and-greet. He so easily engages people in conversation, talking to them about whatever happens to be on his mind. One moment he's moaning to us about how sore and tired his feet are, then he perks up and is all smiles to chat with someone. Several people we met during our walk now know that he is almost 6 years old, likes dogs, has a loose tooth, likes the colour yellow, has friends named Mommy and Daddy, and his favourite animal is a cow. Oh, and he shares the name Daniel with the fellow walking the two beagles, who also happens to be the local carpenter who does a lot of work in our neighbourhood.
Daniel is happy to be returning home before nightfall. At only 2pm he is concerned that it is getting dark! I wonder sometimes at his apparent lack of sense of time. The reality is that we've been out walking for only an hour and a half, not the entire afternoon as it must have felt to Daniel. Perhaps his sense of time relates directly to how much his feet hurt, he must have been in a lot of pain judging by the amount of whining. At last our tired and soggy feet carry us home. I love the feeling of returning home comfortably tired.
Friday, January 8, 2010
New Year, High Hopes
I wish everyone a healthy and prosperous 2010. Sounds pretty typical doesn't it? The pat phrase that gets thrown out there when people don't have anything more intelligent to say to one another, yet feel compelled to say something nice.
It is true though, I do wish my friends and family a healthy and prosperous year. Including myself. It is about time I took my health seriously. Aging seems to bring health issues into slightly sharper focus, as opposed to the focus achieved when looking through these slightly more aged eyes of mine. Not that I have any serious health issues to be concerned with. Considering my weight, it is rather surprising that I don't have high blood pressure or diabetes.
As 2010 is still very young, I'm going to make a resolution. I resolve to lose 40 pounds this year. There, I've said it. The resolution I've been unwilling to say out loud is much easier said in print, especially when contained in an anonymous blog. I'll keep you posted with my trials and tribulations. I'm already dreaming about the fun things I'll be able to do when I shed a few: rock climbing (just don't look down), skiing (just don't look down) and tight-rope walking (just don't look down). Okay, I was just kidding about the last item, I have sensitive feet and I'm sure tight-rope walking wouldn't be very comfortable.
What resolutions have you made? Exercise more, drink less, spend more time with the family, take time to relax, travel more...? Be strong and determined - you already know what in your own life needs improvement. Ignore all the crap we get bombarded with: be skinny, be perfect, be nice to everyone, be available 24 hours a day, etc. My advice is this: be true to yourself and the ones you love. I love this quote by Mary Baker Eddy: To live and let live, without clamour for distinction or recognition; to wait on divine love; to write truth first on the tablet of one's own heart - this is the sanity and perfection of living.
Writing truth on the tablet of one's heart? Tricky, very tricky. Seriously, if the truth hurts then I'm in for a lot of pain this year. Is it about being honest with myself and approaching life with integrity? Is it conforming with facts or realtiy? How dull. Fact, veracity, sincerity, candor, frankness, precision and exactness; all synonymous with truth. Candor, yikes, now there's a heavy word. I'm often not candid with others. My aversion to inconveniencing, hurting or confronting others is so strong that I have great difficulty saying "no". I usually take the easier route of lying to or deceiving myself; then out of guilt I often continue down the path of self-betrayal with self-destructive behaviour.
For example, yesterday afternoon my self-destructive behaviour was in full swing. While waiting for Daryle and Daniel to arrive home after I'd had a particularly stressful day at work, I found myself inhaling a half-dozen cookies. No! This has to stop!!! I will be strong, this behaviour ends NOW. From today, of course after consuming a far-too-large lunch, I resolve to treat myself better. This involves eating less, learning new things and becoming more active.
This year I have the good fortune of combining both prosperity and health by possibly returning to school. My employer has generously offered to send me back to school for further education. I would benefit two-fold: the professional development would be fantastic and the "brain food" would help keep my brain in good working order. With Alzheimer’s in the family, my brain needs all the help it can get. I'll soon be giving BCIT and Kwantlen each a call to set up appointments to discuss what my educational future holds.
So here I am, embarking on a year that holds such promise. Wish me the strength to stick to my weight loss resolution and be truthful to myself. Perhaps I should begin by signing up for some therapy. Sounds like I'll need help in overcoming my fear of heights and dealing with self-confidence issues. I'd better get on with it - gotta go!
It is true though, I do wish my friends and family a healthy and prosperous year. Including myself. It is about time I took my health seriously. Aging seems to bring health issues into slightly sharper focus, as opposed to the focus achieved when looking through these slightly more aged eyes of mine. Not that I have any serious health issues to be concerned with. Considering my weight, it is rather surprising that I don't have high blood pressure or diabetes.
As 2010 is still very young, I'm going to make a resolution. I resolve to lose 40 pounds this year. There, I've said it. The resolution I've been unwilling to say out loud is much easier said in print, especially when contained in an anonymous blog. I'll keep you posted with my trials and tribulations. I'm already dreaming about the fun things I'll be able to do when I shed a few: rock climbing (just don't look down), skiing (just don't look down) and tight-rope walking (just don't look down). Okay, I was just kidding about the last item, I have sensitive feet and I'm sure tight-rope walking wouldn't be very comfortable.
What resolutions have you made? Exercise more, drink less, spend more time with the family, take time to relax, travel more...? Be strong and determined - you already know what in your own life needs improvement. Ignore all the crap we get bombarded with: be skinny, be perfect, be nice to everyone, be available 24 hours a day, etc. My advice is this: be true to yourself and the ones you love. I love this quote by Mary Baker Eddy: To live and let live, without clamour for distinction or recognition; to wait on divine love; to write truth first on the tablet of one's own heart - this is the sanity and perfection of living.
Writing truth on the tablet of one's heart? Tricky, very tricky. Seriously, if the truth hurts then I'm in for a lot of pain this year. Is it about being honest with myself and approaching life with integrity? Is it conforming with facts or realtiy? How dull. Fact, veracity, sincerity, candor, frankness, precision and exactness; all synonymous with truth. Candor, yikes, now there's a heavy word. I'm often not candid with others. My aversion to inconveniencing, hurting or confronting others is so strong that I have great difficulty saying "no". I usually take the easier route of lying to or deceiving myself; then out of guilt I often continue down the path of self-betrayal with self-destructive behaviour.
For example, yesterday afternoon my self-destructive behaviour was in full swing. While waiting for Daryle and Daniel to arrive home after I'd had a particularly stressful day at work, I found myself inhaling a half-dozen cookies. No! This has to stop!!! I will be strong, this behaviour ends NOW. From today, of course after consuming a far-too-large lunch, I resolve to treat myself better. This involves eating less, learning new things and becoming more active.
This year I have the good fortune of combining both prosperity and health by possibly returning to school. My employer has generously offered to send me back to school for further education. I would benefit two-fold: the professional development would be fantastic and the "brain food" would help keep my brain in good working order. With Alzheimer’s in the family, my brain needs all the help it can get. I'll soon be giving BCIT and Kwantlen each a call to set up appointments to discuss what my educational future holds.
So here I am, embarking on a year that holds such promise. Wish me the strength to stick to my weight loss resolution and be truthful to myself. Perhaps I should begin by signing up for some therapy. Sounds like I'll need help in overcoming my fear of heights and dealing with self-confidence issues. I'd better get on with it - gotta go!
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