Pack it Up

So why does it take longer to plan an vacation than it does to be on one? It doesn't matter if you fly off to an all inclusive or go camping, it all takes longer than it should. By the time you decide where you are going, what you need to take, arrange the details through the travel agent or Internet, arrange for animal care..etc. I am exhausted before I even begin on the adventure.

And adventures they are! I am probably a very annoying person to travel with, as I like to see every possible thing there is to see from a back road with special trees that I saw in a flyer all the way to the biggest tourist trap. Luckily my husband is up for this as well, the only problem is that by the time we get home we need another vacation where we just can just sit.

So here I am getting ready to go to a cottage for the upcoming long weekend and I am up at 7am to arrange things. I have planned the menu (because there isn't a grocery store for a whole 10 mins), written a list about what the cottage has vs what we need to take, doing the last minute laundry, vacuuming and cleaning-as I like to come home to a clean house- along with a multitude of other things...and we are only going for THREE DAYS.

Mind you, just because others are "roughing it" with the bare essentials doesn't mean that I have to. One of our first camping adventures involved a very packed car, with equipment you could plug into the cigarette lighter for power and one embarrassed husband -then boyfriend.

You see- his nickname is wilderness boy! His idea of camping is a tent (optional), sleeping bag, matches and some snacks. I think this sounds like torture. Where is my change of clothing and toiletries....and don't even get me started on having to take a poo shovel. I do not apologize for liking the finer things in life. I do not need a 5 star resort with hand and foot service(although this does sound appealing) but running water is essential and I am not referring to the stream "over there".

So as I pack up the final items into the car to go off on our "relaxing" adventure I think that the bare essentials of a toothbrush and a change of undies might not be so so bad....then I laugh myself silly and pack four more pairs of shoes...after all, a girl has to be prepared for any fashion emergency.

Out Out Damn Weed

As the snow begins to melt away I dream of things to plant and what to do to each garden. What I seem to forget about are the weeds that come along with this too. When I am able to first get out in the gardens I do more playing around than actual gardening. I think I just enjoy tromping around in the mud. Yes, some days I am six.

The reason for my tromping is that until things start to grow, I am unsure if they are a weed or something I planted later in the season. I have discovered that I spend more time half way through the season wondering if I pulled a plant I was sure I planted last year. So in my garden it is better to wait until I recognize the plant before I pull it.

It never fails though as I truck off to the various nurseries around town searching for more colour I come home to plant them and the colour fades away after a week. What drives me mad is that the "more colour" I am looking for usually comes from the $%#ing weeds. Creeping charlie would be pretty if it didn't creep. My husband bought creeping jenny many years ago, which I pulled out about two years later as it began taking over the garden...and each spring I still find bits of it to pull. I have learnt my lesson...anything that says creeping...DO NOT BUY....I can probably give you some...cheap!

Then there are the plants that continue to grow and bloom. They are so pretty that i have to divide them, so instead I share the wealth with friends who need them...or move~! I have divided one poor Snow ball plant so many times I am surprised how each year it still looks bigger. It must be a girl plant and likes all of the maintenance.

Then there are the lovely critters that come with gardening...did I mention this is what I do to relax...can I just say what a hate on for earwigs I have. Those creepy bugs are my nemesis as everything I plant they seem to love...they are right up there on my "would like to eliminate from the earth" after June bugs and grubs. Ewww my skin shivers thinking about them.

It is amazing with all of the cursing I do in the garden that I continue to go out in my spare time , in the blistering heat to painstakingly deadhead everything, pull out tiny pieces of clover and dig holes to make room for new plants. Some days I think I am demented. But then summer hits and the garden is in full bloom. The roses bloom in abundance with the most amazing smell, the dahlias grow and bloom to the size of dinner plates and the sea of colours blend together makes me sigh and think that all of it was worth it...until mid August hits and I say screw it...I am going on vacation!

Reno me this

I am sure every time my husband sees me flipping through, yet another, design magazine he rolls his eyes in anticipation of what changes are next. In the extended 20 year plan(I may be exaggerating but one never knows) to renovate our house I have changed my mind on design features to the point where in almost every room there is a sign of my husbands rebellion. Whether it be a hole in the sub floor, a counter a little higher than normal and the butcher block that someday will appear as if from outer space...otherwise know as the workroom.

Thus far the back of the house is mainly complete, but just as we (executive we) finish a room, I think of something I would have done differently. Causing my husband, which he has never verbally said but one can imagine, how much longer before he will have to make it happen.

I blame this renovation itch, like the good daughter I am, on my parents. I cannot remember a time in our lives which we were not in a renovation mode of some sort, and when the projects were finished...we moved. One time I went off to university and they sold the house and moved into a motor home for the summer....they say it is because mom didn't want to live in that house anymore...but it seems awfully convenient that it occurred when I moved out...hmmmm.

So it only took 5 years of complaining and one frantic pull of the wood drawers with wood slides to cause my husband to finally concede to the fact we needed to redo the kitchen. My mind was dizzy with excitement over what we would do. How we could rearrange things and how quick it would occur. Remember all things are relative as the basement took three years and still has a couple of things left...so after this anything is fast.

We went to several big box stores to get quotes and ideas. I flipped through magazines to see what was new in kitchen design, until one day I finally conceded to the fact that what I wanted wasn't possible unless we decided to put a 20x20 extension on the back of the house. So back to square one. A galley is a galley and there is nothing I can do about it. So it is better to go with it than fight it. So the floor plan would remain as is and I put my foot down insisting that if we were doing the kitchen then I was getting a dishwasher.

It took me no time to decide I wanted white cabinets with as much storage as I could possibly get in our tiny kitchen. So let the reno begin. We (yes actually we this time) started the demolition. We gutted the kitchen back to the studs and then surveyed the damage we had done. The easy part was over. Rebuilding would take awhile since my husband wanted full wood cabinets but we didn't like the price that came with it. So the option was only one...he would have to build them. Wile already working two full time jobs. After only 6 months we had a kitchen that looked mostly like a kitchen. It wasn't until the summer of weddings that we put the final push on to get things finished. We (meaning he) laid the floor, built the cabinets and painted them(this was me). I would also like to acknowledge that my husband then took me to see a beautiful counter top which I completely approved of...and it turned out to be the most expensive part of the kitchen. First time for everything, normally the most expensive thing is my job.

Then after it was all put back together I realized I didn't have a wall colour, so after two months of hemming and hawing I picked out a colour that is somewhere between brown, purple and red. Then I thought ...oh god!...what are we going to do about a back splash. I swear I looked at every tile place from here to Toronto and ended up ordering an"in stock" tile along with a special order tile. I am telling you right now....the words special order are words to back away from. After waiting five months and paying a small fortune the tile arrived... only it was suppose to be 7/8x7/8 like all other sheeted tiles but instead it came in as 1x1. Needless to say we only used a small section of them. Which caused us (me) to once again change the design plan for the back splash. Yes I agreed to it, yes I laid it out, yes I signed off on it...but not a moment after he finished the 8 hour intensive labour job did I turn to him and say "I don't love it". I think if we were to ever get divorced...that was the look of my (still) husband gave me.

Over time, I have learnt to accept the back splash (as really..what is my alternative) and move on. It has been a couple of months since our last reno..which means the itch is occurring again. But for anyone who can live through it...the end results are the best as I happily work around in my little, built for me, very pretty kitchen.

What's in your bowl

I have always known our animals are spoiled. My family has always said growing up that if we could come back as anything it would be an animal in our house. Today is no exception. After a trip to the doggie spa to have his hair cut..not his favorite thing.. the groomer noticed his skin getting a little dry and recommended changing his food. This was after two generous "trial sized" bags and several treats later...just because he is so darn cute!

Most people would just buy another food from a grocery store, but not for our beloveds. Hubbie has researched the food options, looked at their star rating and go figure, the dog will be eating better than we do. I am thinking kibble may be the way to go.

I must admit there have been many mornings when I am getting breakfasts ready that the container of Beneful looks better than my package of oatmeal. Now I guess I have figured out why my skin looks dry. Apparently I am not getting the right balance of chicken, beef and salmon in my diet. Oh My!

I love how they advertise food for animals as well. Whether the cat is singing, or jumping through walls for a treat or the dog running for food and after many trips of hitting the wall the kid then sets out toilet paper on the corner..oh wait that is a toilet paper ad...I laugh and am amused and fall into their marketing trap. They are right up there with Maggie and the Royale kittens pulling at my heart strings. If the toys and treats our animal got from marketing ploys, both of them would have an ipad.

I also think it is funny about how we listen to the details in the advertisements. For instance "Beneful® brand dog food helps keep your best buddy happy and healthy with a perfect balance of wholesome ingredients, quality nutrition and superb taste." This for a dog who will eat the "wholesome food" but then also clean his bum directly afterwards finding both equally appealing.

Now don't feel sorry for the cat as while his skin is shiny and window are opened on his command he too get his daily treat, which he beckons for. While his pate with chunks of chicken and Florentine may not tempt me quite as much you never know when you will need some sandwich spread.

Oh well, I guess next time I should grab a spoon and dive in..but then again maybe kibble is best heated.

15 minutes

Andy Warhol said everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes. I look back at what it took to become famous back in the day...hmmm a funny thing called intelligence and some talent didn't hurt either. Yes the Brat Pack seemed to be known more for their partying ways than their movies but maybe they were on to something as they are still around..some in rehab.

These days if you have no talent but were born to wealth you are almost instantly famous. All you have to do is make a sex tape and have it "accidentally" leaked onto the Internet. Sex tape not for you? You could always go the route of buying several packs of Altoids and saving a semen covered dress which you "forgot" to have cleaned. Too yuck for you? How about having ten plastic surgeries in one day and having half your brain removed at the same time?

I guess I have let my life slide. I grew up and was a good kid, for the most part. Went to school, got good grades. Went to university, got a job. Went back to school, got a job...a husband...a cat and a dog. I guess nothing fame worthy...except maybe that I am still married.

Working in the marketing world I realize that sex sells. The more of a teaser you can entice people with the more popular the item becomes. Who knew this translated to woman as well. I wonder if I did it wrong? Maybe I should have grown up, said screw it to education and gone to Hollywood. Work in some bar in said Hollywood, gotten a boob job and slept with someone famous....hey then I too would be famous once their sex scandal broke....which it eventually would after I leaked it to TMZ. Then I'd play dumb because I "didn't know he was still married", save every text message he ever sent me (this may be my biggest challenge) ...get a large settlement and retire. Fool proof! OR I could pimp my husband out to the wife of said husband and get maybe an hour of fame and double the payout. What were my parents thinking when they raised me with morals...sheesh!

But for those of you without any morals and looking for a way to get your 15 mins here are some ideas which have worked for others:
1. Sleep with someone a 100 other woman have. Remember STD's are only a small price to pay on your way to stardom
2. Have a lot of plastic surgery and become plastic looking.
3. Have more than 14 kids; as others are way ahead of you...oh and throw some religious beliefs in there as it makes you look more credible
4. Eat to become 1000lbs, whether you live that long is another story...but at least you have a goal.
5. Tell people that you can hear dead people

or you could go in another direction
1. Help the blind to see
2. Win a Nobel piece prize
3. Spend your life aiding others
4. Invent something
5. Write an epic novel

Ok now I know why people don't go the second route...it's too hard! Oh well I guess it is time to tart it up to make our 15mins...but then again there was that time when I was 5 ad it was school bus safety week........

Sick is for Sissys

Every year I take my vitamins, eat lots of fruit and veggies and get lots of sleep. But somehow the cold fairy always seems to find me. Whether it is a case of the sniffles or feeling like I just got hit with a baseball bat I have a hard time admitting I am sick.

I don't know what it is about being sick that irritates me in to trying to avoid the obvious. Even as my sinus clog up (the polite version of what really happens) and my brain gets foggy I still hold firm that it is just my allergies.

After a week of blowing my nose to the point of taking off layers of skin..even after using three-ply with lotion...going to bed at 6o'clock with an unusual "cold cocktail" and taking every ounce of energy to crawl out the next morning.then and only then..I acknowledge that I have been beaten and let the cold take its course. On the flip side, I now only have to go through the congested lungs and final clear out stage before it is over.

I think it is my "I will win" attitude that stops me from admitting my weakness. You know you look bad when even your boss tells you "you look like shit" and that it is time to go home, curl up with my hot water bottle and watch crummy daytime TV. But as I lay there resting I think of the laundry, dishes and vacuuming and think to myself I must really be sick to be thinking of undone household chores. I really think it is the underlying guilt that as I lay there watching some daytime talk show the dust bunnies are taking over and if I get up and run a vacuum I will feel better. I KNOW! You should have seen the sad look of me as I took the dog for a walk. I think even the dog tried to keep his distance....."I know she is holding the leash...but honest..she is not with me"

I think the next time I get sick, as I am sure there will be a next time, I will move into a hotel. This way I can order soup, blow my nose and someone else will clean up after me. This way there is nothing for me to look at or think about. For now..sigh..I will get up and go do something productive and wait for that final nose blow when I can breathe again and my ears do not always feel like they need to be popped. Ahh the small things.

I have a secret (until now)

For those of you who know me well, it is not so much of a secret as it is a fact. I have an addiction! Most people are addicted to a variety of things whether it be drugs or alcohol, but at least my addictions not harmful to me just confusing to others.

I am addicted to my hot water bottle. Funny thing is that I didn't realize this until the other night as I lay in bed half asleep watching TV when I realized my hot water bottle was getting cold and would not make it through the night. So I rolled over and batted my eyelashes at Brian who then said "I am not going to be an enabler". In other words, get your own ass out of bed if you want it filled up. Then it hit me, I am addicted. I have dragged my hot water bottle all over the world (literally) no matter what the climate as a just in case. I can be seen in the middle of the summer with a blanket and hot water bottle. I always blamed it on poor circulation or my father's addiction to heat...but as it turns out I may be at fault. ouch!

It started from a young age, when we lived in an old farmhouse. The house was large and our bedrooms were upstairs. So when we climbed into bed, I hated the feel of cool sheets. Yes I tried flannel sheets, heating pads and electric blankets, but there is something about the searing heat of a hot water bottle that comforts me.

Unfortunately this addiction has harmed another. Sometimes in the middle of the night I will roll over (unknowingly) and feel that addiction has grown cold so I push it out of bed where it then lands with a loud thunk on the floor. I have grown used to this sound and sleep right through it,unfortunately my husband startles awake and wonders what is going on...then curses my addiction as I lay soundly sleep. My addiction has almost killed him at times as well. He has forgotten about my pushing it out of bed (so it couldn't have awakened him for too long) and come around my side of the bed in the morning to say goodbye and hit the hot water bottle in his attempt to lean in, causing his balance to go a little askew as I giggle and tuck further int bed. Ahhh the price of love.

On the flip side, it is not all bad. My cat has now found the source of my heat and has decided that his spot on the bed is good but can be enhanced when he crawls on top of me and the hot water bottle. I do not complain about this at all, even though he adds to the weight on my already tiny bladder but with his heat and mine on other side, the hot water bottle stays warm throughout the night leaving everyone happy.

Over the years, I have had to replace the hot water bottles as they wear out. You can feel them coming to an end when the rubber gets thin and you knew it is only a matter of time before it will feel like you peed yourself in bed. This is a sad time, but as I trundle off to the drugstore to get a new one I feel a rush of excitement over the good years ahead. Let's face it, where else can you get and sustain an addiction for $9,99.