Archive for the 'Miscellaneous' Category



Catching up quickly

We are on the last full week of summer vacation this week. The girls head back to school on September 4th, easing into the new school year with a two day week.

This week they are in Taekwondo camp, so their days are full and they are getting loads of exercise. There is a rumour around the House of Sock that today they will do their first board breaks. I expect there will be many stories when I pick them up today.

I still have a bit of back to school shopping to do, most notably in the shoe department. Why do I always leave the shoes to the end when selection is less than optimal? It’s not like I don’t know it’s coming. Yet every year it is the last to be done. Children cannot wear flip flops until the snow flies. Yet our avoidance continues.

In addition to the summer hum of activity with the kids, things have been so very hectic at work. My office has moved locations, and a co-worker was out sick for most of the summer, so my plate has been very full there. I continue to attempt to find other positions and also continue with my less than stellar success in that department. I will spare you a list of the positions I did not get, as the list would be far too long.

I am not sure whether my mood is related to fatigue, changing seasons, or the fact that September is looking at us in the face. I feel like I need a really big nap.

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2 Years of Socks

Yesterday was my second Blogiversary!!! 332 posts in two years and lots of blog friends later, here I am.

So I was thinking about my first blog post two years ago, and I realized that I do not, in fact, ever actually talk about point #3 in a literal sense… ie, I never actually discuss socks and laundry (though domestic life does come up). So here it is… I really do marvel at how socks disappear. I have an honest to goodness issue with it. And here is the proof…

I do laundry nearly every freaking day (presuming my machines work and they don’t always). And nearly every single time a load comes out of the dryer, at least one pair of socks will have become a single sock. So, I put the single sock in my “single sock” bag, intended to be the holding place until the other sock appears… ya’ just never know if it never made it out of the hamper or got into a different load. But it doesn’t always work that way:

Behold! My “collection” of single socks where the mate never ever materialized. How crazy is that? Care to give theories on what happens to them?

– Is that what my alien neighbours have buried under their “headstone” lawn ornaments (don’t ask);

– Is there a sock party going on somewhere behind the dryer?

– Did they just disintegrate from over use or stinky feet?

Got any other ideas?

Delurking week

This is apparently “delurking week” in the blogosphere. It is a time when those who read without commenting are asked to post a wee “howdy” of introduction. I don’t actually think I get many lurkers…. more like drive-by visits… folks looking for information on “older boobs” (I kid you not – that seems to be a hot topic in the last week or two), “hamster comas,” and pretty much anything related to socks, and then they disappear into the night. But if you happen to pause for a moment and read on occasion, please delurk this week and say hi!

Unless of course you’re nasty, in which case you may carry on with your lurking.

Why I’m glad the dog can’t write to Santa

Santa comes to all the pets in the house. The jolly old soul will leave a little treat for the hamsters, fish, frogs and dogs. Nothing big… just a wee treat.

So the other day, quite by accident and while following a link, I found myself browsing through a website for pet supplies. And I was quite suprised to find this. A stroller. For dogs.

I’m sorry… but who invents a “dog stroller???” Who is sitting around their kitchen table one day and thinks to themself, “Self… don’t you think the dog is looking a little lean and healthy? Perhaps Fluffy is getting too much exercise. Perhaps I should make myself useful by creating a device that will allow him to get no exercise on our daily walks whatsoever. And then maybe I’ll market it so that other pets in the nation can get less exercise too! Dang, I’m brilliant!”

Really… am I missing something?

I don’t know which was in worse shape — me or my car

So yesterday was they day we planned to buy new tires. I would get dropped off at work and hubby would go do whatever gets done in a tire store. We dropped the kids off at school, and did a quick drive thru coffee grab before dropping me at work, and then the vehicle just died, right there on the Avenue, about 20 feet before the lights in front of my work. Lovely.

So I go in and call a tow truck.

Subsequent diagnosis: Battery, timing belt, and water pump, shot to heck. Lovely.

There are two things, in all of this, however, that keep me quite thankful….

First, it could have happened in the drive thru as I had just been there seconds before. Dear G*d the stress, if it had happened there, with no way forward or backward, just clogging up the lines anxious for their Tim’s caffeine fix would have just been too much.

Second, it could have happened AFTER I had bought tires, in which case there would have been no money to deal with the repairs.

So, to relieve my stinging wallet, I am trying to focus on the fact that things could have been worse.

I have also come to the realization, with the amount of walking I’ve done in the last 24 hours, that I am in really bad shape. My legs feel like noodles and I’ve been ready for a nap since… well… since the nap I actually had. How sad is that?

Contraband

Guess if you’re American (Canadian’s might already know)…

And no Googling….

One of the Halloween treats my children received is illegal where we live. Which one?

To Angel

There seems always to be a point in time – a life moment – that dissects one’s existence. When we are younger we compartmentalize our lives into events before high school and events after. After we marry, the marker might move to the wedding and life becomes divided into life events as a single and life as a married. For me, you are that life moment. My life became all that occurred before Angel, and all that has occurred since.

I wonder what you think of me now. In the early years following that moment, I would refuse to work on the day of your anniversary. I would go out to dinner, visit your grave, sing “Happy Birthday”, and cry. This year I will work at least 15 hours that day. As a result, I will not visit you until the following day. But I will still cry. I admit that I have allowed the needs of the living to take precedence over celebration of the dead. Now that you will be nine I expect that you might understand that birthdays are sometimes shifted to meet a family’s schedules. At least I hope you understand that. And forgive me. Again.

Tomorrow is your ninth anniversary. Anniversary. It sounds as if you were married. That truly bothers me. But Birth-day is just wrong. And Death-day is more so. There must be a better word. How about Angel-day? Or Angelversary? That might work.

And, despite the fact that I talk about celebrating your existence, I’m sure it has not escaped your notice that your resting place makes you seem a bit like the poor child with the tattered jacket looking in on the snazzy playground. Forgive me that as well. Again, it is more a case of tending to the needs of the living. Trust me when I tell you that it is no measure of the love I have for you.

Happy Angelversary, darling. You will always be my baby. I love you.


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