So....
In case you were wondering, although extremely entertaining, it is probably not a good idea to spend two hours in the Oregon ocean in mid-October.
The kids all bought skim boards when we were staying in Cannon Beach, but it was too chilly there to take them out. This morning in Florence, Oregon, we awoke to blue skies and warm weather, so after school we suited up and headed for the beach.
Once there, we all stood around in the water and tried to skim. I think we need a Google tutorial as the only one even remotely successful was Andrew.
After giving up on that, we stood around in the waves and played. At one point a dark face behind Michael caught my eye and we all were totally impressed that a seal had been attracted by us and kept popping up in different locations. At times he was only about 15 meters away! He was totally curious and insanely cute. Of course, Michael was nervous about us getting that close to a wild animal, but then again, he was not thrilled with me picking up the bunny last week either. Anyways, after our family and the seal staring at each other for about five or ten minutes we all got bored and went our separate ways. Michael took Abby and Matt and changed them into some warmer clothes and Andrew and I body surfed.
Although it was shockingly cold at first, soon the waves felt nice and warm and we were actually chilled when they were not crashing into us. We made a few remarks about not being sure that there were still feet attached to the bottoms of our legs and the sharp pains in our fingers when we bent them, but in all, it was no different than a day in the Northern Saskatchewan Lakes. However... when you get out of a Northern Saskatchewan Lake it is usually into 25-30 degrees Celsius, because what fool would go swimming in that cold water on a blustery day? What fool indeed.
When we got out of the ocean it was about 18 degrees Celsius and windy. The burning in our digits began about halfway to the truck when we started to regain feeling. Michael held up a blanket so we could strip down and wrap up and then we headed for home. As soon as the truck stopped we beat a hasty path to the showers where we stood under the scalding steam for about half an hour each. It took about another hour after that to stop the chills. I think Andrew was actually a little shocky as his whole body was trembling and he did not freak out that I saw part of him naked while he was getting out of his trunks.
Good times!
Lots of the waves were over our heads!
People recover from hypothermia all the time!
Can't wait to go back tomorrow!
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Sunday, October 12, 2008
A Love Story
It has been pointed out to me that I have not blogged recently...I think I was just waiting for this moment.
I had the great honour of watching my sister and Paul Bunyan get engaged today. It was wonderfully romantic and all is well in Lauraland. I was however concerned lest she inadvertently flash her new rock out to sea and cause a ship to become confused and head into the new lighthouse at Haystack Rock. I must say that it was a good thing that she started going to the gym or I don't know if her poor body would be able to bear the stress of the added carat weight!
Now on to my news.
Yesterday was possibly the best day of my life.
Let me just preface this story with a little background information. Last summer I was introduced to "Kathy" and I fell in love. My client's mom, Bonny, brought Kathy in to meet me and I was immediately drawn to her. Style, Charms, Colour....she is the whole bag....literally. Her full name is Kathy Van Zeeland and in my opinion, she designs the most beautiful handbags on the planet.
When you have a Kathy you do not carry it, you wear it. They are available in oh so many colours and they all have her signature silver filigree and crystal charms dangling and tinkling so enticingly off of their comfort padded straps. She adds a signature decal of bling to each one as well. Each sighting of a Kathy was enough to make my heart soar and my hand reach out of its own accord and wistfully caress her. This was often unappreciated by the general public, but who were they to deny me my pleasure?
Still, Kathy and I had only a passing fancy, for though I loved her, alas, I am cheap and Canadian. What do these things have to do with the other? Good question. Sit grasshopper and listen while Tina explains.
Kathy's are an American brand. When they cross over that imaginary line we call the border, they somehow jump in price. What costs $89 state side becomes 110 canuck coins. Fair? I think not, but this is life on the sunny side of the septic tank friends. Since there was no way on God's green earth that I could justify spending that much to bring her home, Kathy and I seemed doomed to our furtive encounters in the mall. I combed Ebay and still came up with the now familiar ache in my bosom. It seemed that Kathy and I would never be able to take our relationship to the next level.
Then a magnificent think happened. I became a Gypsy. Guess what? Gypsies cross borders!
Three weeks ago we entered the USA and my Kathy Quest renewed its intensity.
Fast Forward!
Yesterday my sister and PB were due to arrive in Portland at 7:45 pm. We set out bright and early from Cannon Beach. I had it in my mind that maybe today was the day, but like a nine and a half month pregnant woman I had nearly run out of hope that the day would ever come.
We entered a Portland mall and I cast a disappointed look around. There was nary an upscale department or shoe store to be found. I stumbled sadly into Dress Barn where a well meaning sales lady asked if she could be of assistance. Despondent, I sighed that I couldn't find my love.
She thought for a minute, scribbled something down on a Post It and wished me luck.
Slowly, I unfolded the tiny scrap of hope and read "Burlington Coat Factory, Jantzen Lake Centre."
Quickly I rounded up Michael and the kids and loaded them into the truck. I punched the precious information into the GPS and prayed that she would be able to find her way.
Calculating Route.
Left turn in 300 meters.
She knew where to go and hope began to unfurl in me like a fern frond in the prairie spring.
Traffic seemed to magically part as Sylvie gracefully wove her way along the interstates. Maggie gently urged us on with her "Keep to the left" and "Exit in one kilometre" reminders. I slid into the parking lot, coasted to a stop and called back over my shoulder to meet me inside as I sprung from the truck and into the mall.
Smiling politely but not bothering to stop for chit chat, I breezed past the greeter/security guard and into the store. My barren shoulders seemed to sense which way to turn as I hurried past jewellery, clothes and shoes to the Handbag department. The overhead lighting focused all of its energy and shone down on the Kathy's like the sun breaking through an overcast Oregon sky as I rounded the final corner into a whole row of my favourite gleaming handbags!
There was black, bronze, green, silver, ruby, cobalt, mustard and gold. There was patent and flat, crinkle, smooth and quilted. I floated over on my cloud and turned over the price tag. $44.95! That is when the first tear slipped from my eye. Another soon followed when I remembered that Oregon is the Land of No Taxes!
I skipped down the aisle filling my arms with all my pretty babies. I swear I could hear their little voices saying "Me too!" and "Pick me!" Almost intoxicated, I stumbled out of the aisle and cornered several ladies to tell them about the best day of my life. One kind soul passed me a tissue for the tears and drool and another kindly pointed out that it was possible that I may not need two of the bronze belted shoppers.
I realized that my family would soon be catching up and I needed to spend some time narrowing the purchase field as I was almost positive that the budget nazi would not let me adopt eleven little Kathy's. I made my way to the lingerie department and lined them all up on the carpet before sitting down with them. One by one, I picked them up, had a little snuggle and let them down easy. We said our goodbyes until finally there were just three of them and me. I took the others back and lovingly placed them on their shelves.
Now for the three. By now I had an emotional bond with them. The Moss Patent Buckle Up Shopper; the Black Patent Buckle Up Crinkle Shopper and the Gold Patent Hobo bag. I held them all to me hearing the pleasant tinkle of their charms bouncing with glee at being off of the hangar and agonized at my choice. How do you choose between three loves? The gold was on clearance so it became an automatic winner. For $34.95 only a fool would say no. But the moss and the black...who could choose?
Michael.
Michael would choose for me.
Nervously, I introduced them all and he showed them the respect that Kathy's are due. OK....he may have been a little frightened. He has seen me watch QVC with tears dripping off of my chin with the sheer angst of want. He has listened to me describe the dreams that they have appeared in and has assured me time and time again that I would know the right one when I saw it.
"Pass them to me."
"What! Why! You can't put them back! They love me!"
"Tina, pass them to me."
"Why! I can't!"
"Pass them."
The green went, followed grudgingly by the black.
"The gold one, too."
"Nooooo! Honey... it's on sale! I can't leave without it!"
"The gold one, too."
I passed it over and after a short tug of war and gently peeling my fingers back, all three Kathy's rested in Michael's arms. I tried to inconspicuously wipe away my tears as I saw my hopes come crashing around me like the waves at Haystack Rock.
Then....
He held out the gold to me.
"Happy Birthday."
The black.
"Happy Anniversary."
The green.
"Merry Christmas"
Do I have a great husband or what? I am still a little light-headed thinking about how thankful I am. How fitting that this weekend it Canadian Thanksgiving, for I am indeed blessed.
As for the mustard...I hear my Mom is sending money for Christmas!
I had the great honour of watching my sister and Paul Bunyan get engaged today. It was wonderfully romantic and all is well in Lauraland. I was however concerned lest she inadvertently flash her new rock out to sea and cause a ship to become confused and head into the new lighthouse at Haystack Rock. I must say that it was a good thing that she started going to the gym or I don't know if her poor body would be able to bear the stress of the added carat weight!
Now on to my news.
Yesterday was possibly the best day of my life.
Let me just preface this story with a little background information. Last summer I was introduced to "Kathy" and I fell in love. My client's mom, Bonny, brought Kathy in to meet me and I was immediately drawn to her. Style, Charms, Colour....she is the whole bag....literally. Her full name is Kathy Van Zeeland and in my opinion, she designs the most beautiful handbags on the planet.
When you have a Kathy you do not carry it, you wear it. They are available in oh so many colours and they all have her signature silver filigree and crystal charms dangling and tinkling so enticingly off of their comfort padded straps. She adds a signature decal of bling to each one as well. Each sighting of a Kathy was enough to make my heart soar and my hand reach out of its own accord and wistfully caress her. This was often unappreciated by the general public, but who were they to deny me my pleasure?
Still, Kathy and I had only a passing fancy, for though I loved her, alas, I am cheap and Canadian. What do these things have to do with the other? Good question. Sit grasshopper and listen while Tina explains.
Kathy's are an American brand. When they cross over that imaginary line we call the border, they somehow jump in price. What costs $89 state side becomes 110 canuck coins. Fair? I think not, but this is life on the sunny side of the septic tank friends. Since there was no way on God's green earth that I could justify spending that much to bring her home, Kathy and I seemed doomed to our furtive encounters in the mall. I combed Ebay and still came up with the now familiar ache in my bosom. It seemed that Kathy and I would never be able to take our relationship to the next level.
Then a magnificent think happened. I became a Gypsy. Guess what? Gypsies cross borders!
Three weeks ago we entered the USA and my Kathy Quest renewed its intensity.
Fast Forward!
Yesterday my sister and PB were due to arrive in Portland at 7:45 pm. We set out bright and early from Cannon Beach. I had it in my mind that maybe today was the day, but like a nine and a half month pregnant woman I had nearly run out of hope that the day would ever come.
We entered a Portland mall and I cast a disappointed look around. There was nary an upscale department or shoe store to be found. I stumbled sadly into Dress Barn where a well meaning sales lady asked if she could be of assistance. Despondent, I sighed that I couldn't find my love.
She thought for a minute, scribbled something down on a Post It and wished me luck.
Slowly, I unfolded the tiny scrap of hope and read "Burlington Coat Factory, Jantzen Lake Centre."
Quickly I rounded up Michael and the kids and loaded them into the truck. I punched the precious information into the GPS and prayed that she would be able to find her way.
Calculating Route.
Left turn in 300 meters.
She knew where to go and hope began to unfurl in me like a fern frond in the prairie spring.
Traffic seemed to magically part as Sylvie gracefully wove her way along the interstates. Maggie gently urged us on with her "Keep to the left" and "Exit in one kilometre" reminders. I slid into the parking lot, coasted to a stop and called back over my shoulder to meet me inside as I sprung from the truck and into the mall.
Smiling politely but not bothering to stop for chit chat, I breezed past the greeter/security guard and into the store. My barren shoulders seemed to sense which way to turn as I hurried past jewellery, clothes and shoes to the Handbag department. The overhead lighting focused all of its energy and shone down on the Kathy's like the sun breaking through an overcast Oregon sky as I rounded the final corner into a whole row of my favourite gleaming handbags!
There was black, bronze, green, silver, ruby, cobalt, mustard and gold. There was patent and flat, crinkle, smooth and quilted. I floated over on my cloud and turned over the price tag. $44.95! That is when the first tear slipped from my eye. Another soon followed when I remembered that Oregon is the Land of No Taxes!
I skipped down the aisle filling my arms with all my pretty babies. I swear I could hear their little voices saying "Me too!" and "Pick me!" Almost intoxicated, I stumbled out of the aisle and cornered several ladies to tell them about the best day of my life. One kind soul passed me a tissue for the tears and drool and another kindly pointed out that it was possible that I may not need two of the bronze belted shoppers.
I realized that my family would soon be catching up and I needed to spend some time narrowing the purchase field as I was almost positive that the budget nazi would not let me adopt eleven little Kathy's. I made my way to the lingerie department and lined them all up on the carpet before sitting down with them. One by one, I picked them up, had a little snuggle and let them down easy. We said our goodbyes until finally there were just three of them and me. I took the others back and lovingly placed them on their shelves.
Now for the three. By now I had an emotional bond with them. The Moss Patent Buckle Up Shopper; the Black Patent Buckle Up Crinkle Shopper and the Gold Patent Hobo bag. I held them all to me hearing the pleasant tinkle of their charms bouncing with glee at being off of the hangar and agonized at my choice. How do you choose between three loves? The gold was on clearance so it became an automatic winner. For $34.95 only a fool would say no. But the moss and the black...who could choose?
Michael.
Michael would choose for me.
Nervously, I introduced them all and he showed them the respect that Kathy's are due. OK....he may have been a little frightened. He has seen me watch QVC with tears dripping off of my chin with the sheer angst of want. He has listened to me describe the dreams that they have appeared in and has assured me time and time again that I would know the right one when I saw it.
"Pass them to me."
"What! Why! You can't put them back! They love me!"
"Tina, pass them to me."
"Why! I can't!"
"Pass them."
The green went, followed grudgingly by the black.
"The gold one, too."
"Nooooo! Honey... it's on sale! I can't leave without it!"
"The gold one, too."
I passed it over and after a short tug of war and gently peeling my fingers back, all three Kathy's rested in Michael's arms. I tried to inconspicuously wipe away my tears as I saw my hopes come crashing around me like the waves at Haystack Rock.
Then....
He held out the gold to me.
"Happy Birthday."
The black.
"Happy Anniversary."
The green.
"Merry Christmas"
Do I have a great husband or what? I am still a little light-headed thinking about how thankful I am. How fitting that this weekend it Canadian Thanksgiving, for I am indeed blessed.
As for the mustard...I hear my Mom is sending money for Christmas!
Tuesday, September 23, 2008
Get Your Earrings Ready, Aunty!
We ventured out today and saw some amazing things!
-You can buy beer in WalMart. Weird. I really don't even have anything else to say about this. Oh wait...I always have something to say. I take my kids to WalMart. Everyone knows that WalMart is Tina's
-The
-My daughter is gorgeous. She and I went to a Bridal Boutique where she tried on tons of flower girl dresses. I seriously had a tear or two. She got all shy and could barely even talk. The funny thing is that she was not shy because of other people being around; she was just awed by the beauty of the gowns and the awesome privilege of being able to wear one. She has decided to be a singer when she grows up, but informed me that it will not be all soft and gentle songs, but that she wants to sing Rock Star songs like Miley/Hanna. Get your earrings ready Aunty!
-Jesus Invented Pumpkin Spice Latte's. As I took my first sip Michael looked at me and said "You are singing it right now, aren't you?" Sure enough, the song "Heaven, I'm in Heaven" was floating through my mind. We discussed whether it was sacrilegious for me to say that they were invented by Jesus, but we decided that it was not and we have biblical proof in the form of the verse "Every good and perfect gift comes from you." I can not remember the verse address, but it really fits, and on today, a particularly lonely and gift needing day, it was indeed a perfect gift and I gave thanks!
A Goat Trail By Any Other Name
Today marks the beginning of our trip into "THE GREAT UNKNOWN". I am going to speak here like I actually have a following that does not already know everything that there is to know about me. (I love and miss you all by the way!)
My family is on a one year vacation. We are homeschooling and doing all the touristy things. We are having a blast...most days. Today was monumental! We have been on the road for almost three months now and have covered three provinces, but today we crossed The Big Border. That's right...we have crossed to the other side. We are now temporarily residing in the USA. The monumental part is that while we were doing lots of new and exciting things, they were all in places that we had been before. This is the first destination that we have never ever been to! It is so exciting. (and scary.)
We are in a little (and by little I mean huge in Saskatchewan terms but not so much here) city that is called Puyallup. As far as I can tell, it is pronounced similarly to tulip if you were giving tulip a really long "u" sound.
How is it that one can travel for under an hour and get out of one's vehicle and realize that one is now the one that has the accent and not the charming American that is at the checkout behind one. (I know the one's don't all work but once I had started I couldn't stop. That is the trouble with one....it never ends up being just one.) We crossed the border at the Peace Arch near Blaine, WA. I am not sure, but I think that the abbreviation for Washington is WA. In Tina Land it is anyway. (So there.) We had to wait eighty minutes to cross. By the time we got to the actual crossing, I had worked myself up into a state. Surprising, I know. I was picturing a meany crossing guard pointing us over to the side of the road, a team of snarling, drooling Dobermans holding us at bay, and a lady crossing guard with a bad set of hi lites and a too tight uniform doing the cavity search while the crossing guards in training spread all of our earthly belongings through the ditch on the side of the road. It didn't quite happen that way. We had a really nice Guard who told a little story about a guy with a really big RV having to unpack his luggage carrier to get it through the underpass dealy, watched a bit of the kids movie and sent us on our way. He was very interested in if we were bringing garlic across the border though. I had some packed in EVOO, but that stuff was OK. Apparently, garlic is only lethal to Washingtonians in its natural state. We have since hung our entire campsite with bunches of the stuff and plastered mirrors on every empty surface. The large crosses and wooden stakes go without saying. (or at least they would have if I had not mentioned them.) Seriously though...why is garlic a problem to bring across the border? I am so confused. Fortunately, this is not uncharted territory for me. I have been confused before and will be again. Life goes on.
After our non-eventful crossing we went to Jack in the Box for the first time ever. We needed drinks after our long wait in the border line-up. Just to let you know, a medium pop on this side of the border is WAY bigger than it is back home. Having said this, you will quickly see the problem presented by Abigail about an hour later while I was navigating fifty six feet of vehicle down the I5 in the middle of Seatle. Although we tried to convince her, the Jack in the Box cup was apparently a one way street as far as her liquids were concerned and she would not send them back from whence they came. After we got out of the downtownish area I illegally pulled over (what is with all the no parking on the side of the road signs anyway?) and we hustled back into the trailer to pee. It was TERRIFYING! The semi's rock that trailer like it's nobodies business! She had to go into her bedroom and change her pants and I was praying the whole time that the trailer would not flip over. Even Andrew was scared and he was still in the truck. (Abby almost was not the only one who needed dry pants!) Matt pee'd in the bushes on the side of the road, but since Michael was sporting a bright orange T-shirt, he elected to use the camper as well. I know I already said this, but let me reiterate: TERRIFYING! Keep in mind that this is coming from some very seasoned ditch pee-ers. This was like no pee ever taken before. Once we had regained our seats it took about 5 minutes of signalling before I was able to make a break for the driving lane. People really do not like to let others merge here. Eventually I just peeled off of the shoulder and into traffic with the attitude that of "I am bigger than you so MOVE!"and Michael and I hi-fived on my driving prowess. All that would soon change.
For Christmas last year, my Dad gave us a Magellan GPS system. We have nicknamed her "Maggie" and we love her dearly. Maggie, Sylvie (our 2002 Silverado) and the five of us make a good little team. Sometimes however, Maggie is an idiot. Today she thought it would be fun to take us down a goat trail. It was a goat trail cleverly disguised as a bridge, but a goat trail by any other name would still be too narrow! I actually had to roll down my window and fold in the mirror on my side so that the UPS truck could get past us and at the same time I was trying to get my hind end onto the bridge. I ended up having about an inch between the camper and the guard rail. It took up about forty five minutes to make the trip that the ever so kind lady at the desk of our campsite drawled "You coulda just stayed on the I5 and you woulda been here in five minutes! You never can trust the GPS systems or the mapquest."
Bad Maggie. Bad bad bad Maggie!
On a high note, fuel is REALLY cheap here! We have been spending between $110 and $120 to fill up. Tonight the fuel was $3.97 per gallon where we fuelled up and it only cost $87! We were sucking fumes and filled up all the way too! We had a little IKEA moment and screamed "START THE CAR! START THE CAR!" Sylvie was not offended at being called a car; she was just happy to be fed. We were a little sad when we got up the road a bit and found Diesel for $3.63 at Safeway though. Sigh.
I have spent way too much time blogging tonight and will surely be grouchy for school in the morning, so now it is time to say goodnight. Keep in touch. Gypsies get lonely!
Good night, Gracie.
My family is on a one year vacation. We are homeschooling and doing all the touristy things. We are having a blast...most days. Today was monumental! We have been on the road for almost three months now and have covered three provinces, but today we crossed The Big Border. That's right...we have crossed to the other side. We are now temporarily residing in the USA. The monumental part is that while we were doing lots of new and exciting things, they were all in places that we had been before. This is the first destination that we have never ever been to! It is so exciting. (and scary.)
We are in a little (and by little I mean huge in Saskatchewan terms but not so much here) city that is called Puyallup. As far as I can tell, it is pronounced similarly to tulip if you were giving tulip a really long "u" sound.
How is it that one can travel for under an hour and get out of one's vehicle and realize that one is now the one that has the accent and not the charming American that is at the checkout behind one. (I know the one's don't all work but once I had started I couldn't stop. That is the trouble with one....it never ends up being just one.) We crossed the border at the Peace Arch near Blaine, WA. I am not sure, but I think that the abbreviation for Washington is WA. In Tina Land it is anyway. (So there.) We had to wait eighty minutes to cross. By the time we got to the actual crossing, I had worked myself up into a state. Surprising, I know. I was picturing a meany crossing guard pointing us over to the side of the road, a team of snarling, drooling Dobermans holding us at bay, and a lady crossing guard with a bad set of hi lites and a too tight uniform doing the cavity search while the crossing guards in training spread all of our earthly belongings through the ditch on the side of the road. It didn't quite happen that way. We had a really nice Guard who told a little story about a guy with a really big RV having to unpack his luggage carrier to get it through the underpass dealy, watched a bit of the kids movie and sent us on our way. He was very interested in if we were bringing garlic across the border though. I had some packed in EVOO, but that stuff was OK. Apparently, garlic is only lethal to Washingtonians in its natural state. We have since hung our entire campsite with bunches of the stuff and plastered mirrors on every empty surface. The large crosses and wooden stakes go without saying. (or at least they would have if I had not mentioned them.) Seriously though...why is garlic a problem to bring across the border? I am so confused. Fortunately, this is not uncharted territory for me. I have been confused before and will be again. Life goes on.
After our non-eventful crossing we went to Jack in the Box for the first time ever. We needed drinks after our long wait in the border line-up. Just to let you know, a medium pop on this side of the border is WAY bigger than it is back home. Having said this, you will quickly see the problem presented by Abigail about an hour later while I was navigating fifty six feet of vehicle down the I5 in the middle of Seatle. Although we tried to convince her, the Jack in the Box cup was apparently a one way street as far as her liquids were concerned and she would not send them back from whence they came. After we got out of the downtownish area I illegally pulled over (what is with all the no parking on the side of the road signs anyway?) and we hustled back into the trailer to pee. It was TERRIFYING! The semi's rock that trailer like it's nobodies business! She had to go into her bedroom and change her pants and I was praying the whole time that the trailer would not flip over. Even Andrew was scared and he was still in the truck. (Abby almost was not the only one who needed dry pants!) Matt pee'd in the bushes on the side of the road, but since Michael was sporting a bright orange T-shirt, he elected to use the camper as well. I know I already said this, but let me reiterate: TERRIFYING! Keep in mind that this is coming from some very seasoned ditch pee-ers. This was like no pee ever taken before. Once we had regained our seats it took about 5 minutes of signalling before I was able to make a break for the driving lane. People really do not like to let others merge here. Eventually I just peeled off of the shoulder and into traffic with the attitude that of "I am bigger than you so MOVE!"and Michael and I hi-fived on my driving prowess. All that would soon change.
For Christmas last year, my Dad gave us a Magellan GPS system. We have nicknamed her "Maggie" and we love her dearly. Maggie, Sylvie (our 2002 Silverado) and the five of us make a good little team. Sometimes however, Maggie is an idiot. Today she thought it would be fun to take us down a goat trail. It was a goat trail cleverly disguised as a bridge, but a goat trail by any other name would still be too narrow! I actually had to roll down my window and fold in the mirror on my side so that the UPS truck could get past us and at the same time I was trying to get my hind end onto the bridge. I ended up having about an inch between the camper and the guard rail. It took up about forty five minutes to make the trip that the ever so kind lady at the desk of our campsite drawled "You coulda just stayed on the I5 and you woulda been here in five minutes! You never can trust the GPS systems or the mapquest."
Bad Maggie. Bad bad bad Maggie!
On a high note, fuel is REALLY cheap here! We have been spending between $110 and $120 to fill up. Tonight the fuel was $3.97 per gallon where we fuelled up and it only cost $87! We were sucking fumes and filled up all the way too! We had a little IKEA moment and screamed "START THE CAR! START THE CAR!" Sylvie was not offended at being called a car; she was just happy to be fed. We were a little sad when we got up the road a bit and found Diesel for $3.63 at Safeway though. Sigh.
I have spent way too much time blogging tonight and will surely be grouchy for school in the morning, so now it is time to say goodnight. Keep in touch. Gypsies get lonely!
Good night, Gracie.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Pretty Can't Hide Sketchy
Don't judge a book by its cover. Pretty is as pretty does. So quiet you could hear a pin drop. Crystal chandeliers don't hide the fact that it is a McDonald's in Scaryville. I think that last sentence will soon become a cliche as well used as the first three. Well...it would if everyone were eating at the McDonald's downtown Victoria on the corner of Douglas and View anyway.
The alarm went off this morning and I stretched, rolled over and cried myself back to sleep at the thought of facing another day of this:
-Eat your breakfast! You can't have school on an empty stomach!
-Stop laying on the floor and pick up your pajama's.
-You know this is a classroom now, so get it cleaned up!
-No, you cannot bring three stuffies to school with you!
-Swallow! Swallow now! If you puke up that pill again....
-Quit looking at yourself in the window!
-No it is not recess!
After several minutes of rocking and moaning, we decided to be naughty and skip school today. I feel good about that decision.
We set out en famile to downtown Victoria, that quaint hubbub of history, buskers, and the like. We went there yesterday as well but when we got to the museum they said they were closing in an hour and we decided to go to the Wax Museum and save the Royal British Columbia Museum for another day. Today was that day! (Have to mention that the wax museum is CREEPY and I wish I had followed my gut and went shopping or sat with the buskers and pretended to have a talent instead of going there!)
We LOVE the RBCM! I am not a huge fan of museums. My moto is if you've seen some old crap you've seen it all. Not so at these digs though! WOW! There is a place there that if you stand in the middle it sounds like you are speaking into a microphone but the people close to you can't hear you! Also, you can hear a whisper from across the room! Now this got me to thinking, if I can hear Michael whispering that clearly from here, I wonder if we could hear a pin drop? I was fresh out of pins, so I of course took the next logical step. I removed my diamond stud that my Dad gave me from my earlobe, gathered the fam around and dropped the earring on the floor. Museums are dark. Have you ever noticed that? Not only did we not hear the earring drop, we lost the aforementioned earring. So there we were, among the deer and grizzly bears crawling around using our cell phones as flashlights looking for my earring! Fear not, it was eventually found, but that museum carpet really does hide everything and if you have toddlers you might want to look into putting it in wall to wall!
After exploring for what seemed like moments and was in fact 3.5 hours, we decided to go for a snack. The museum shop was hideously expensive so we hit the streets. Yesterday Abby, Matt and I walked past a neat little shop called Roger's Chocolates where they have a retro soda bar complete with servers with the little hats and a twirly straw dispenser so I thought we should go there. I soon thought differently when we popped in and saw that it would cost $40 for the 5 of us to have a milkshake.
Now, on our first day in Victoria we did some driving around. On our travels we saw the fanciest McChoke and Puke's we have ever seen. There is a 12 foot chandelier in the lobby (that's right...LOBBY!) There are several more crystal chandeliers throughout the restaurant. So when the parental veto of the soda shoppe came down it was followed by cries of "Fancy McDonald's! Fancy McDonald's!" and off we went! We decided to walk down Douglas for a change of scenery. We got one! There were all sorts of weird costumes including one girl whom I can only assume was going for a Christmas Village Staff interview as she was wearing a white fur lined red cape and red and white striped thigh high stockings with her ankle boots. We smelled the smells including lovely restaurants and some odd sweet smoke. At the sight of the odd sweet smoke we overheard the man with his cap in hand putting his order in for some weed in about half an hour once he had enough money. That reinforced our decision to never give out money, only meals. We hiked for what seemed like miles to finally get to "Fancy McDonald's". Once we arrived, the tables were filthy, the fries were cold, the nuggets were cold, the waiters were rude, and there were pickles stuck to the fancy art they had hung on the walls. Groups of what our Saskatchewan trained eyes immediately picked out as gangs inundated the space without ordering and got very loud. They were not speaking English so I have nothing to report, but it did sound menacing. They were asked to leave. We huddled in our little corner not wanting to let our eyes wander or any unclothed portion of our body touch any surfaces. When we felt somewhat safe enough to leave we huddled into a pack and shuffled to the back of the restaurant to relieve our nervous bladders and Abby and I had the treat of listening to the woman in the next stall strip down and shoot up while her cart waited outside.
Back at the Museum we took in a Charlie Chaplain flick. The tiny theatre was cute with a fake little ticket booth. It is a good thing they only charge five cents to see his flicks because they are really quite boring! The kids were very concerned about why the sound in the theatre was not working. Ahh the innocence of our Disney fed children! Apparently when you go to a silent movie you are supposed to remain silent as well. Michael did not think that the folks around us much enjoyed my narration of the film. I choose to think that they were craning around to catch a glimpse of the starlet that the witty monologue was issuing forth from and that they simply all had to use the facilities in tandem.
In conclusion:
-Keep your earrings in.
-Control your longings for the fancy things in life.
-Swallow your pills.
-Apply early for Christmas work.
-Keep your mouth shut at silent films.
-Give meals not money.
-Skip School.
-Pretty Can't Hide Sketchy.
The alarm went off this morning and I stretched, rolled over and cried myself back to sleep at the thought of facing another day of this:
-Eat your breakfast! You can't have school on an empty stomach!
-Stop laying on the floor and pick up your pajama's.
-You know this is a classroom now, so get it cleaned up!
-No, you cannot bring three stuffies to school with you!
-Swallow! Swallow now! If you puke up that pill again....
-Quit looking at yourself in the window!
-No it is not recess!
After several minutes of rocking and moaning, we decided to be naughty and skip school today. I feel good about that decision.
We set out en famile to downtown Victoria, that quaint hubbub of history, buskers, and the like. We went there yesterday as well but when we got to the museum they said they were closing in an hour and we decided to go to the Wax Museum and save the Royal British Columbia Museum for another day. Today was that day! (Have to mention that the wax museum is CREEPY and I wish I had followed my gut and went shopping or sat with the buskers and pretended to have a talent instead of going there!)
We LOVE the RBCM! I am not a huge fan of museums. My moto is if you've seen some old crap you've seen it all. Not so at these digs though! WOW! There is a place there that if you stand in the middle it sounds like you are speaking into a microphone but the people close to you can't hear you! Also, you can hear a whisper from across the room! Now this got me to thinking, if I can hear Michael whispering that clearly from here, I wonder if we could hear a pin drop? I was fresh out of pins, so I of course took the next logical step. I removed my diamond stud that my Dad gave me from my earlobe, gathered the fam around and dropped the earring on the floor. Museums are dark. Have you ever noticed that? Not only did we not hear the earring drop, we lost the aforementioned earring. So there we were, among the deer and grizzly bears crawling around using our cell phones as flashlights looking for my earring! Fear not, it was eventually found, but that museum carpet really does hide everything and if you have toddlers you might want to look into putting it in wall to wall!
After exploring for what seemed like moments and was in fact 3.5 hours, we decided to go for a snack. The museum shop was hideously expensive so we hit the streets. Yesterday Abby, Matt and I walked past a neat little shop called Roger's Chocolates where they have a retro soda bar complete with servers with the little hats and a twirly straw dispenser so I thought we should go there. I soon thought differently when we popped in and saw that it would cost $40 for the 5 of us to have a milkshake.
Now, on our first day in Victoria we did some driving around. On our travels we saw the fanciest McChoke and Puke's we have ever seen. There is a 12 foot chandelier in the lobby (that's right...LOBBY!) There are several more crystal chandeliers throughout the restaurant. So when the parental veto of the soda shoppe came down it was followed by cries of "Fancy McDonald's! Fancy McDonald's!" and off we went! We decided to walk down Douglas for a change of scenery. We got one! There were all sorts of weird costumes including one girl whom I can only assume was going for a Christmas Village Staff interview as she was wearing a white fur lined red cape and red and white striped thigh high stockings with her ankle boots. We smelled the smells including lovely restaurants and some odd sweet smoke. At the sight of the odd sweet smoke we overheard the man with his cap in hand putting his order in for some weed in about half an hour once he had enough money. That reinforced our decision to never give out money, only meals. We hiked for what seemed like miles to finally get to "Fancy McDonald's". Once we arrived, the tables were filthy, the fries were cold, the nuggets were cold, the waiters were rude, and there were pickles stuck to the fancy art they had hung on the walls. Groups of what our Saskatchewan trained eyes immediately picked out as gangs inundated the space without ordering and got very loud. They were not speaking English so I have nothing to report, but it did sound menacing. They were asked to leave. We huddled in our little corner not wanting to let our eyes wander or any unclothed portion of our body touch any surfaces. When we felt somewhat safe enough to leave we huddled into a pack and shuffled to the back of the restaurant to relieve our nervous bladders and Abby and I had the treat of listening to the woman in the next stall strip down and shoot up while her cart waited outside.
Back at the Museum we took in a Charlie Chaplain flick. The tiny theatre was cute with a fake little ticket booth. It is a good thing they only charge five cents to see his flicks because they are really quite boring! The kids were very concerned about why the sound in the theatre was not working. Ahh the innocence of our Disney fed children! Apparently when you go to a silent movie you are supposed to remain silent as well. Michael did not think that the folks around us much enjoyed my narration of the film. I choose to think that they were craning around to catch a glimpse of the starlet that the witty monologue was issuing forth from and that they simply all had to use the facilities in tandem.
In conclusion:
-Keep your earrings in.
-Control your longings for the fancy things in life.
-Swallow your pills.
-Apply early for Christmas work.
-Keep your mouth shut at silent films.
-Give meals not money.
-Skip School.
-Pretty Can't Hide Sketchy.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Sickness, Solitude and Sore Butt Syndrome
It sucks to be sick in a camper. I don't know about you, but when I am sick I just want to hide away all alone and wallow in my own filth. Usually I am not a fan of filth, but when I am sick I feel no desire to beautify. Sometimes a nice hot bath or can be soothing, but usually it just makes the fever worse, increases dizziness and then you stumble, fall backwards out of the tub, pull the shower curtain down knock the rod loose, crack your head on the porcelain thrown... I'm sure it has happened to everyone, right!? And then to make matters worse, when you are still reeling from the head hitting the toilet bit the rod comes down on you too.
I think the fever made me lose my train of thought there for a bit. As I was saying, for me, sickness craves solitude. Have you any idea how difficult it is to be solitary in a tiny space with five people in it? Does anyone have air miles burning a hole in their pocket and want to spend them on a nice little B&B in Victoria for me?
Michael ended up teaching by himself today. Poor guy! Although I got out of teaching today (read: was sent to bed for extreme grouchiness) my day was far from a walk in the park. I have an unusual symptom with this cold. My butt hurts. It really really hurts. It hurts in the bones! It hurts to sit, to lay on my back, to lean on it when laying on my side. What, pray tell is wrong with my butt?
Is it as my dad has said all along? Could it be? Say it ain't so! Am I a pain in the butt?
I think the fever made me lose my train of thought there for a bit. As I was saying, for me, sickness craves solitude. Have you any idea how difficult it is to be solitary in a tiny space with five people in it? Does anyone have air miles burning a hole in their pocket and want to spend them on a nice little B&B in Victoria for me?
Michael ended up teaching by himself today. Poor guy! Although I got out of teaching today (read: was sent to bed for extreme grouchiness) my day was far from a walk in the park. I have an unusual symptom with this cold. My butt hurts. It really really hurts. It hurts in the bones! It hurts to sit, to lay on my back, to lean on it when laying on my side. What, pray tell is wrong with my butt?
Is it as my dad has said all along? Could it be? Say it ain't so! Am I a pain in the butt?
Friday, September 12, 2008
Job Opening- Start Immediately-No Pay-No Benefits!
So after nine days of home school, I have come to an important realization. It is a very good thing that I dropped out of University after a halfhearted attempt to become a teacher. I am a very good Hairstylist. Teacher...not so much.
Perhaps it comes from trying to teach my own children. Maybe I would do better with other people's children. This statement, although, raises the question: Who would want their children to be my guinea pigs?
People keep telling me that the first six weeks of home school are the hardest. SIX WEEKS! You have got to be kidding me! This is not going to get better for SIX WEEKS! The next person to tell me this MAY experience the violent side of Tina!
I wonder if it would be too disruptive for the kids to be enrolled in schools for two week time periods? Maybe.
All of these thoughts have led me to believe that it is time to post a job offer.
WANTED:
Person to Home School my Three Lovely Children
The successful applicant (hereafter known as Sucker) will:
- Be exceedingly patient. Sucker will not be prone to outbursts even after Sucker has said "The answer is "c". Say "c" and the child says "b".
-Be able to successfully school my three children in 3 hours or less every week day. Sucker will not come to me for help and will not need to assign homework because everything will be done in class. This frees up my afternoons to be able to have fun time with the kiddies.
-Not mind feeding the children their breakfast. This allows me to catch up on much needed sleep as I will be exhausted from all of the fun afternoons. Sucker will also provide a healthy and tasty lunch on days that end in "ay".
-Not live with us, travel with us, eat with us or interact much with us at all. Sucker will not be paid for this job but will do it willingly.
Interested applicants need not apply. You are hired! Just come and join us on the road and start your duties immediately...PLEASE!
Perhaps it comes from trying to teach my own children. Maybe I would do better with other people's children. This statement, although, raises the question: Who would want their children to be my guinea pigs?
People keep telling me that the first six weeks of home school are the hardest. SIX WEEKS! You have got to be kidding me! This is not going to get better for SIX WEEKS! The next person to tell me this MAY experience the violent side of Tina!
I wonder if it would be too disruptive for the kids to be enrolled in schools for two week time periods? Maybe.
All of these thoughts have led me to believe that it is time to post a job offer.
WANTED:
Person to Home School my Three Lovely Children
The successful applicant (hereafter known as Sucker) will:
- Be exceedingly patient. Sucker will not be prone to outbursts even after Sucker has said "The answer is "c". Say "c" and the child says "b".
-Be able to successfully school my three children in 3 hours or less every week day. Sucker will not come to me for help and will not need to assign homework because everything will be done in class. This frees up my afternoons to be able to have fun time with the kiddies.
-Not mind feeding the children their breakfast. This allows me to catch up on much needed sleep as I will be exhausted from all of the fun afternoons. Sucker will also provide a healthy and tasty lunch on days that end in "ay".
-Not live with us, travel with us, eat with us or interact much with us at all. Sucker will not be paid for this job but will do it willingly.
Interested applicants need not apply. You are hired! Just come and join us on the road and start your duties immediately...PLEASE!
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