The Olympic Torch makes its way through Huntsville.

December 30, 2009

Felt I should... just becuase...

I havn't blogged in days.
Not since before Christmas.
Not much to say.
Still real, real tired.
I shoveled snow today, but then that's not a NEW thing.
I still hate it and THATS not a new thing either.
It's pretty stuff. I will give it that.
Time for bed.

Oh Look... there's a chicken in the living room... and butter tarts in the kitchen....but not for long.

I just ate a Butter tart for breakfast and stashed the last two in the cupboard and came down to blog or started to. I decided I’d go up and grab a cup of tea first when Roger asked.
"Where are the butter tarts? I went to get one and couldn’t find them. I looked all over for them, they're not in the fridge or any where I looked."
"Here they are." I exclamied with feigned good humor, all the while thinking “ Nuts, I won’t get to have anymore because I was secretly hoping he had forgotten about them and I could have the rest.
I am a butter tart freak. There, my secret is out. I LOVE butter tarts. But not just any butter tarts, home made with a real crust and crumbly like the ones Dave Made and bought over last night.
Roger loves them too but he will eat any old crud butter tart out of the store.
What is WRONG with him?
Why can’t he leave the truly GOOD, melt in your mouth, sugary sweet bowls of heaven for those of us who TRULY appreciate them??
I made like I was HAPPY to share the last few with him. It’s what you do when you love someone.
Had he never asked, I would have happily gobbled the last two by lunch time without volunteering that fact that they were there. But he did. And I just cannot lie.
I am a bad girl.

Now I’d like to introduce you to the newest member of our household.

.

I haven’t named him yet.
But he can dance. Boy can he dance. And he is a chicken
I managed to get one still shot of him but as you can see from the other picture, he moves and he moves fast I lay down on the floor and turned him on but by the time I get focused on him he is right in my face. He looks happy doesn’t he? Dancing for all his little chicken heart is worth.
Flapping his wings, and moving those little chicken feet.

I feel compelled to go see if by any chance there IS one more butter tart left. Wish me luck.

Hmmmm... seems I didn't afterall

I was sure I'd written a post today....  then not so sure.
Turns out I hadn't. So. Here it is. Short and well just short. Shopped, got a foot detox bath thingy. cooked. not so well but it was palatable.  Got a dancing christmas chicken from Cathy and Dave... who were here for dinner and cards BTW. Love the chicken. He dances around the floor, beek moving, eyes rolling and he does the chicken dance... you know the one. da da dada dada da, da da dada dada da, dadadada da da da da..oh and his cheeks flash. you can't help but laugh. We figure we can get him bunny ears and use him at Easter too.  and maybe put a sheet over him and he can be a ghost chicken at Halloween. Smokey is a bit unsure and Bandit it not impressed at all. and that makes it even more fun. I will post a pic tomorrow.  I wonder if this will accept video. Oh and chocolates as well.
Had fun... We always do with Kathy and Dave.  They brought the boys along and the 5 (theirs and ours) of them did boy stuff which beyond playing vidoe games could mean seeing who can fart the loudest or longest.  They ARE boys. I have a full day tomorrow. I better try to sleep.

Christmas Shopping and my kids

I was in the stores tonight.. trying to get the last of my Christmas shoppiong done. I see that as it stands I was not too far from done when I went out this evening. So it was a lot of walking around looking at stuff that might be cool to add to the pile I have already bought for my kids.  I am going all out this year for them. More so than I have in past years.  But not crazy overboard.  Ok with the youngest... Yah  I did kinda. It will be the last crazy Christmas for him. I suspect I am compensating for what has been a tough year for him. But he is a trooper and gets past these trails with greater ease then in years past.
He's a good kid. 
All my kids are good.  I feel very fortunate.

The Drive

This was not taken today, but this is part of my drive to work every day.

When I first found out that I was going to have to commute to Bracebridge every day I was upset. As I have said before I lived close to the location in Huntsville. Close enough that it was a 10 minute stroll. Tops.

A couple weeks ago I officially began the commute, anxious and pissed off at the same time. I drove that first day hating every kilometer of the drive in to work and every inch of it on the way home.
I did not feel a whole lot better about it the next day. Then winter hit. Talk about taking something I hate already and making it so I hate it more.
Well done Mother Nature.
Driving in winter weather...... you read how I feel about that on the previous post.
Today the roads were clear in both directions and I actually enjoyed it somewhat. It wasn't so bad after all.
It only took a dose of the worst winter weather this area has seen in a while to put things in perspective.
That's how I feel about it today.
I might feel differently tomorrow.
I can be fickle.
Or so I have been told.

P.S. I thought on the way home that my blogs were a tad long. If someone wanted to read a novel they'd go to the Library.

So here’s to a short blog.

At home... in bed.. lap top, well, in my lap sillys!

Winter hit, and it hit hard not too long after my job moved south and I had to start driving 40 minutes to work. This is nothing by some peoples standards but it has been a tough pill for me to swallow. Why? Because even though I do enjoy driving (as a rule) I hate driving in winter conditions. Winter is fine if the sun is out and the roads are clean. But cover them with snow and have a bunch of it blow around so I cannot see and mix that with some (insert bad words here) who think the roads are as safe as they are in the heat of summer, and I get physically ill on the drive. I fight to keep the contents of my stomach down. My heart races, my palms sweat. Sometimes, most recently this last Thursday on the drive home, I felt tears well up in my eyes. So by the time I get to work, I am already drained of all physical and creative energy. I am sure I will get used to it. Age makes that process much slower. But I am sure in time I will. Both the new drive and the winter conditions at the same time have been overwhelming. Combined with menopause... look out. Roger must really really love me.
Friday was an official snow day. Once I had decided I was not up to the drive and had left a message for my boss I found out the offices here and in Bracebridge were both closed.
Yay!
Then reality hit. There was a ton of snow that had to be removed from the drive. Mountains of the fluffy, and as it turned out, heavy stuff, that went on forever.
I hate this driveway. It is on a steep (seems to me) incline and twists and turns to the parking space by the house. It is the slope that scares me during winter. The rest of the year I can hear it as my car switches gears to make the incline. She is groaning and saying "ohhh this hurts".
I can only imagine it’s worse for her when her wheels start to slip on the wet snow or the ice beneath. It’s a busy street at the bottom of this drive way and I slid out into traffic once. It scared the (insert another bad word here) out of me. It has coloured every trip I take up and down this drive in the winter. I expect the worst to happen.

But the snow needs to be removed so we can get our cars in and out during the cold winter months. Roger made it out in the early morning and an ample amount of snow had fallen since then. He had cleared only the minimum it took to get his tiny car out.
So shovel in hand I braved the blowing snow to make it as safe as I could for any and all to get in and out safely.
I was shortly joined by my son who worked alongside me until 1pm when we decided to take a break, warm up and eat something. An hour after that Rogers sister arrived home and pitched in when Liam and I went back out to finish the job. Between the three of us we managed to make some headway as far as getting the snow removed from the area cleared first thing in the morning. I was soaked through and aching and I know I was not the only one. We went inside.

We went  back out later to clear what fell while we were inside. Closer to Roger’s arrival time I sanded the drive to ensure he'd make it all the way up.
Saturday’s mission - To clear the snow that fell overnight and take back the banks to the best of our ability. Again. Minus Roger - the strongest one in this motley crew. He was out shoveling his father’s roof, and garage, and drive.
Taking back the banks is the hardest and heaviest work. The Snow blower has not worked yet this year, THAT being the reason why we had to do this ourselves. I was in the drive by 9:30. Roger’s sister was with me again. Both of us in our 50’s and anticipating the 'snow removal heart attack' which is common in the area under these conditions. We'd work and stop to catch our breath and allow the pounding in our chests to subside. As we made our way deeper into the banks the snow got thicker, harder and heavier and the banks got taller meaning every shovel full we tossed up resulted in at least half of it falling back down. Our shoulders by this time felt like they were made of Jello and devoid of all strength. We were growing frustrated and stopped to rest and vented further. It was during one of these ‘break and bitch fests’ that our neighbor strode up the drive... assessed our progress, shook his head and disappeared down the slope.
We were failing at our task miserably. I suspected he was ashamed for us. We started to shovel again laboring under the weight of this white curse.
Then….. through the blowing snow.... a sound... familiar. Almost forgotten.
It was getting louder. We stopped and listened, looking at each other, wondering if we were both hearing the same sound. There was something oddly comforting about it as it grew louder. We were unable to locate the direction in the now swirling wall of snow. We could barely see each other.
Then the snow parted like a curtain and our neighbor approached bathed in ethereal light, accompanied by the sound of angels singing. Snow blower and man functioning as one, removing the banks with seeming effortlessness.
Ok. There was no angels singing... no light...heck, the snow wasn't even falling at this point. But that’s what it felt like when he came up the drive.
Our knight in shining armor with his trusty steed.
Or more precisely, Tim in his grey coveralls and his Toro - Power Max Snow blower.
He glowed a bit…. and it shone.
No… Not really.
But I was ever so grateful
We worked alongside each other to finish the job. I’d chop the banks down that were especially tough and he’d blow them up and away.

It was dark as I made my way indoors. Everything hurt. I was shaking from being cold and wet for so long. I spent the night attempting to warm myself in bed drinking copious amounts of tea, and hot chocolate. I was cuddled up there wearing my flannel pajamas, socks and my house coat.

I had the fire turned up to high. Roger fed me two generous shots of rum and ibuprofen and as I watched the Polar Express I drifted off to sleep only to be woken by a wasp that stung my elbow.
That’s another story.
Yesterday I shook all day, still unable to keep warm, my joints aching.
Today my throat is sore and my nose is plugged and I am still cold. Drugs have dulled the ache in my joints and the throb in my head. Bed can be a boring place when you are all by yourself so I love the fact that I can be nestled in bed with my laptop, on my lap and can view and communicate with the world. Sometimes I can even work from here.
Final note. I love the LOOK of winter.