So Lady-Like

Growing up, I wanted to be a lady, and while Hubby frequently tells me I’m so “lady-like”, he does so with a smirk and a sarcastic tone. My role models were characters like Meg in Little Women or Mary Ingalls in Little House on the Prairie. I learned needlepoint, crocheting, tatting, and embroidery. I learned how to keep a house, how to take care of a family, and how to cook (I’m pretty sure I could have used more lessons though)…I was gentle and sweet, prim and proper. So what happened? I’m the only girl in a family with three guys, unless you count our guinea pigs (but they eat their own poop so I don’t think they count) and I’ve been exposed to noxious fumes for just too long. I can make a grown man blush. There are lines that I am not afraid to cross. Fortunately, there are 5 “guy” things that I still can’t do!

  • I can’t write my name in the snow.
  • I can’t make armpit fart noises.
  • I can’t laugh at the Three Stooges.
  • I can’t belch my ABCs.
  • I can’t fart or belch on command – it’s all about timing (volume, depth…and the smell for the benefit of the deaf)!

Hubby also frequently tells me, “you’re such a guy,” (even in the bedroom…but a lady never tells)!

Happy Weekend!

Today is a New Day…

Little Guy didn’t make it to swimming lesson last night and I’m still feeling a little guilty. Was it wisdom or defeat?

All it took to come to that decision was a pan of burnt onions, one smoking burner ring, one scalded hand, and one slimy grease slop…down the walls, the floor and me, before I reached it. All of that happened as I dashed between the kitchen and the living room trying to help Little Guy with his big pile of homework (i.e., to stay on task).

To get to swimming (which Little Guy hates), we have to leave the house by 5:30 p.m. By 5:25, I knew we were in serious trouble. We didn’t “waste” any time after school playing Minecraft, or swapping stories about our day over mugs of hot chocolate, but got right to work. Yet supper wasn’t completely cooked. Little Guy was still recovering from his meltdown, and I was on the verge of mine own. With an unresolved issue simmering in the background, and an icy wind blowing items in the backyard, it was clearly time to call! I’m a strong advocate of finishing what you’ve started, of sticking to commitments, and of powering through rather than admitting defeat…

Yesterday I had dragged Little Guy to school in arctic tundra conditions. I had attended meetings, dealt with paperwork, and returned an unusually high number of phone and email messages at work. I had dealt with an elevator inspector and the porno video that someone posted on the church’s Facebook page.  I was so tired that I knew if I sat down, I would never get up again.  At some point the lesson I was forced to learn over and over stuck – harried-ness = injury (sometimes physically and always relationally). We were done.

So we stayed home. We ate dinner in peace. I enjoyed a hot shower in peace (except for Little Guy’s one interruption). I had time to clean the guinea pigs. I had time to visit with a friend on the phone. I even had time to write some notes for this blog post. Homework still took 3.5 hours in total, but it’s done too (thank goodness it wasn’t math or we’d still be working…)

Today is a new day…and I don’t think I’ve messed it up…yet. Just give me time! :-)


Winter doesn’t officially begin until December 21st…but as far as I’m concerned, it started in earnest yesterday. It snowed all day, enough to have to use the snow shovel. I was forced to dig out and wear bulky and unflattering winter clothing. The bad drivers just…got worse. Soggy mittens now line the floor heating vents. And the weather network is predicting wind chill warnings of nearly -20C this morning.

I am not impressed.

If last winter is any indication of what my future holds and based on the fact that the “white stuff” is falling so soon in the season, I may suffer a mental malaise that will force me to eat gluten-filled toast in the bathtub…or something worse involving Henry (O Henry)

I’d like to stay home and curl up on the couch with a good book for the next 5 months. I wonder if a bibliotherapist could write me a note to convince anyone of my great need to hibernate?

The concept behind bibliotherapy is that literature can treat a host of mental malaises and that reading can be deeply healing. It’s not a new concept, just one that is slower to be recognized. WWII veterans were often given books to help them cope with the trauma they witnessed, and book clubs have long been used in mental health facilities. And BONUS: it’s cheaper than retail therapy (if you can convince the librarian to give you a library card) and less fattening than chocolate!

If novels are medicine, please give me a prescription STAT!

References: Do Books Have the Power to Heal?

Weekly Photo Challenge: Achievement

In the summer of 2013, I had the privilege of playing in the mud with my oldest son (I needed someone to bury me if I didn’t make it), in a 6 km obstacle race. I had “trained” off and on for months (which really amounted to a few jogging sessions where I nearly started a fire with my thighs, and fancying about with some weights).

There were 5 reasons that this race was a big deal to me…and even now, over a year later, I’m still psyched (and seriously considering doing it again). I may have been among the oldest there, and was most likely the only idiot to be completely submerged in mud, but I achieved my goal: Run. Crawl. Climb. Don’t Die!

"The best part never washes away..."

“The best part never washes away…”

To see more photos for this photo challenge, click here.

Capture Your 365 (November 1-9)

Dear Out-of-Province Aggressive Driver:

Thank you for honking behind at me at the red light – I didn’t move because there was on-coming traffic. Thank you for tailgating me, even though I was driving 10 km over the speed limit. And thank you SO much for intentionally cutting me off in such a way that I had to slam on the brakes and swerve toward on-coming traffic. I particularly liked the way you flipped me “the bird” when I slammed on my horn once I knew I wasn’t going to die! I like feeling like Bruce Willis in a Die Hard movie as I make my way to the school after…well, a hard day!

While I wasn’t able to get your license plate number (because you didn’t have one on the front of your car and I only saw the province name and (coincidentally) an “F” and “K” as my life passed before my eyes), may I remind you that your vehicle was still plastered with your company’s internet address …and they have plenty of ways for me to contact them through the social media realm.

Please enjoy these pictures and click on the photos to read the quotes…while I work on a polite response.

Yours truly,



Weekly Photo Challenge: Minimalist


Courage is the price that Life exacts for granting peace.
The soul that knows it not Knows no release from little things:
Knows not the livid loneliness of fear,
Nor mountain heights where bitter joy can hear
The sound of wings.
How can life grant us boon of living, compensate
For dull gray ugliness and pregnant hate
Unless we dare The soul’s dominion?
Each time we make a choice, we pay
With courage to behold the restless day,
And count it fair.  – Amelia Earhart

Jen Hooks challenged us this week to take a minimalist photograph. She writes:

Minimalist photography is characterized by a large portion of negative space, a fairly monochromatic color palette with good contrast, and an interesting subject that is able to stand on its own to capture the interest of the viewer… it can  effectively tell a story, in spite of its relative simplicity, and it is anything but “plain”.

To see others’ photos, click here.