Okey dokey, peeps: It’s HALLOWEEN again! And you know what that means… Me, LIVE BLOGGING as I run to and fro to the front door, and keep track of the number of little monsters… er, KIDS… that come by.
(What is it they say? “Back by popular demand”?? Okay, so maybe not. But meh… it’s fun for me.)
So here we go.
5:55 - BDH is feeding an increasingly crabby baby, while I get stuff set up in the foyer for the night. A rickety card table, a pumpkin, and two bowls of candy. MY KINGDOM FOR BLACK CONSTRUCTION PAPER!! I covered the table in a vinyl tablecloth which is all blue polka dots and stuff, so I turned it over to the white side. A couple of black spots for eyes and a smiley mouth, and we’d have ourselves a nice ghost. Oh well.
5:56 - If this kid goes to sleep before the trick-o-treaters come, I’ll be surprised. She and her dad are having a battle over the cereal right now, so we’ve gone beyond tired and right into FRANTIC.
6:09 - HA! A quick search around the house found a bit of black felt and TAAA-DAAAAH, our covered card table has become a friendly ghost. Okay, so it’s lame. Maybe it’s not the Halloween spectacle that The Mayor puts on each year, but then, we have, you know, LIVES and stuff. (Okay. I admit. He did a great job again this year. I love the guy lying in his driveway under the wheels of his car and surrounded by traffic cones. I can’t lie. It’s hilarious.)
6:12 - No kids yet. But it’s still light. Although I hear screeching outside, I’m guessing it’s the ne’er-do-well kids a couple doors up. Running around, unfed, unsupervised… of course.
6:14 - There’s an errant bumblebee walking around out there. I know. That was what I thought too.
6:18 - Last year we watched Hot Fuzz, which was just the right length — once it was done, we shut off the lights and locked up for the night. I think we’ll have to do that again. Because it’s… well… MORE FUN that way. Sure keeps us amused while we wait.
6:21 - Still no kids. Although the errant bumblebee has wandered off. It’s Halloween — that stuff happens. Too bad. He gave the night the surreal quality we look for in a Halloween. I mean, it’s not everyday bumblebees just wander by… well, not since I gave up the drinking, anyway.
6:25 - Duncan is in his perch in the front window, once again this year our little festive Walmart greeter. There are kids out there, but none on our side of the street yet — or we’d hear him peep.
6:28 - And Stinkerbelle is out like a light after her bottle. Which means the doorbell should ring any second now and jolt her wide awake.
6:30 - No kids yet. I hate waiting.
6:35 - Last year some university kids came by for their Halloween charity drive for the food bank (Trick-or-Eat or something like that), so I dashed downstairs and found a couple of cans of soup for them in case they show up again. We hate the soup so it was just sitting there. We unload the soup, the homeless get soup… everybody wins. Okay, so I am giving away reject food… does that make me a bad person?
6:41 - EIGHT kids just came by, including a crowd of angels which I KNOW are not angelic in the slightest. And one very small Maple Leaf without a bag. Or a parent, that I could see. (I think he’s the spawn of The Deputy Mayor. Which explains the lack of supervision.) I gave the kid a Tootsie Roll. He seemed happy.
6:47 - Another BUNCH of kids. Including an adorable Tigger — The Mayor’s Daughter. I have to say, The Mayor’s Wife was very sweet, offering to give us baby stuff, giving us lots of congratulations… it was nice.
6:51 - 3 homicidal maniacs came by. Betcha can’t say that just any night.
6:55 - A zombie princess! AND a zombie! All in one night! Dude. Maybe we should watch Shaun of the Dead.
6:59 - A very tired chicken just rejected the candy I offered. It’s late for chickens to be out, I think.
7:00 - Two Batmans and a Spiderman just opened the door and walked in. I LOVE that. And then they debated whether one of the Batmans was actually Spiderman.
7:01 - The happiest bat in the Universe and a Princess SO HAPPY she just danced across the porch just rang the doorbell and started hollering “Happy Halloween”… BEFORE I had even opened the door.
7:04 - Two little trick or treaters walked away before I could even give them candy. I am thinking they don’t get the drill. But one of them was Batman, and I’m up to my whatzis in superheroes tonight, so…
7:08 - A bunch of silly pre-teens just sang us Christmas Carols. I appreciate innovation. Another 3 came up and tried to say “Happy Halloween” in unison and failed miserably. So I shut the door and let them try it again.
7:11 - A TINY Joker, VERY much in character, came in and kept trying to grab my hand. “D’you wanna shake my hand?” He had a buzzer in his hand. I gave him some candy, he left, and as he was leaving he turned back and said “I have a BUZZER in my hand!” like he was fooling EVERYBODY. Best. Kid. EVAH.
7:15 - Lots and lots of princesses this year. And an adorable bumblebee named Charlotte. (Not the aforementioned wandering bumblebee, however. I think that might have been a neighbor.)
7:20 - WHOA. A crowd. I am running out of candy suddenly. 95 kids already. That’s crazy talk.
7:24 - Sir Richard of (I am assuming) Camelot just came. “Hi.” and then “Bye.” Sir Richard is not big on smalltalk.
7:27 - Duncan is NOT happy about the lack of kids.
7:30 - A recycling bin. COOL. And a half-angel, half-devil. These kids are getting creative.
7:31 - A hippie just told me “Peace out.” And his father did a “D’OH” down on the sidewalk. Not exactly the hippie ways he had taught the youngster, I am guessing.
7:36 - The world’s CUTEST fireman just came to the door with a glow stick on. Safety first.
7:37 - A little kangaroo, when prompted by a “What do you say?” by his mom down on the sidewalk, turned around, walked back, and hollered, “Trick or treat!” But he was as pleased as punch to get a lollipop despite the faux pas, so all’s well that ends well.
7:41 - Duncan sits in front of the door, staring at it, WILLING more kids to come. He loves to greet the kids. For his “tricks” he gets his own “treats” — cat cookies.
7:47 - Things are slowing down trick-or-treater-wise, but not out in the street — the place is jumpin’, man. All the families seem to be out.
7:51 - My doorknob turns, a panda walks in, announces “We want some candy”, and reaches for the candy bowl. There’s no predicting what a 3 year old hopped up on sugar will say.
7:55 - Looks like we might be coming to the end. BDH was just remarking how his favourite was the toasted marshmallow. I myself am always fond of the little ones with no social graces. The Undead were also a highlight. But I’ve had my fill of Batmans, thankyouverymuch.
8:00 - And as 8 o’clock approaches, we are closing up shop. We’ve had well over 100 kids — not as many as last year, but enough. And we are HUNGRY. So… That’s it from Halloween Central for another year here in Subdivisionland. HappyHalloween, all — and don’t eat all that candy all in one sitting.
It is well and truly fall nowadays, with some sub-zero nights and a thick layer of frost on the cars in the morning. But I like the fall, better than all the other seasons. It’s a comfortable time.
Every morning I’ve been taking Stinkerbelle out for a walk. She will only catnap during the day, but I find if I take her out for a walk I can stretch the nap by a good fifteen minutes some days. She naps better in the Snugli, and can nap for an hour and a half or more if I let her — but my back can’t take an hour and a half walk with 15 extra pounds strapped on my person. (Perhaps a baby backpack is in order.) So now that we have one, we take the stroller.
I bundle her up in any one of a number of fleecy or quilted outfits, socks on, and Auntie Sherri’s strawberry Robeez so Stinkerbelle can’t kick the socks and shoes off. Then I put on her daddy’s favourite hat (courtesy of Auntie Heather, a little floral number that is as cute as can be), and strap her into the stroller. (Buckle up for safety!) And then, a couple of blankets are used to shield Her Babyness from the cold and the wind, tucking her in on all sides like a sausage roll with two big eyes peeking out the top. And at 10 am we are off, and by the time we hit the crosswalk at about 10:03 she’s dozing off.
A walk is nice at this time of year. Although most of the local trees’ fall colour has faded to brown, that just means we can kick along through the leaves. We also live in Subdivisionland, and as you well know, Subdivisionland is liberally peopled with young families. And with young families comes… houses decked out for every occasion on the calendar. And since it is October, you can bet your sweet bippy that more than one house on our walk will have a graveyard in the front lawn, or pumpkins everywhere, or a skeleton hanging from the eaves, or a porch bedecked in yellow “caution” tape. It’s festive, in a ghoulish, Hitchcockian way.
Normally we head to the local grocery store, which is a good 15 minute walk down the hill. I like having the stroller because I enjoy getting out, and it gives me the option of picking up a couple of things as we need them each day. As long as it fits in the basket under the stroller, we’re good to go. And trust me when I tell you, that sucker holds a LOT. A couple of kilos of Halloween candy, a squash, some milk, a pack of diapers and a can of formula ($9.99 each! I love sales! God I am so CHEAP!) and whatever else, and then we’re heading off home.
WHICH IS UPHILL. Dude. I am getting a workout each day.
The cool weather keeps me from spontaneously self-combusting, which is nice. And it also means that when we get home, making supper can mean something hearty and warm. Now’s the season for stew, and casseroles, and things roasted in the oven… I love cooking in the fall. A stew is heaven after a cold day’s walk. Biscuits and cookies make the house smell lovely. A pot of curry can simmer on the stove, with a little extra kick for the heat. We can eat our body weights in squash and mashed potatoes.
But it’s not only me that enjoys the fall feast. Our squirrel feeder has once again become a popular spot, as the local wildlife comes for some seeds to stock up for the winter. A little black squirrel sits in there for hours, pigging out like it’s a buffet. A big gray squirrel seems to be more choosy: he comes, takes a few things, hops down, buries them in the grass… aaaaand repeat. And a little chipmunk, by far our favourite visitor, has discovered the bounty, and is filling his cheeks and taking load after load back to his house for the winter.
Last night, however, a masked bandit came by, as we woke to find the squirrel feeder out in the grass, still upright and full of seeds. That happens sometimes — the local raccoons will come to your bird feeder and because that’s where the food is, they figure, “Hell, let’s just take it HOME, and then we’ll have food ALL WINTER!” But the feeder was abandoned a few feet out into the lawn, so it must have been too heavy.
I feel refreshed by the brisk air. I feel enchanted by the local wildlife. I feel inspired by the possibilities in my cookbooks.
I had written a great post this morning, when we woke up early to still more New Years music. But somehow, posting from the other side of the world, the post got fired off somewhere into the ether. So our observations of New Years will just have to wait. Sadly, because I brought the funny. As well as the bad music.
But that is not what you all want to hear about, is it? No, I did not think so.
Because today, we had an appointment to meet some very important people. And we had so many wonderful experiences today… be prepared for a very long post.
We were scheduled to meet Solomon (our liaison) downstairs at 10:30, but being as it was a nice morning, we got up early and went to the bakery to get coffee and breakfast. After that, we decided to meet him out at the front entrance rather than in the (increasingly smoke-filled) hotel lobby. So, just before 10:30, we were outside, waiting and excited.
And no Solomon.
We waited. We checked the lobby periodically. We checked the front desk for messages. BDH even returned to the room to check if there was a phone message. There was no word from Solomon.
Finally, after an hour of waiting, and getting increasingly frustrated, we came back to our room. We called Solomon on his cell phone, more out of concern that perhaps we had gotten the date or time wrong than anything else, because Solomon did not strike us as the type to just be late for something like this.
He was very apologetic on the phone and said he’d be here shortly.
He arrived here about 15 minutes later, very apologetic. As it turned out, he had gone to pick up another couple who had arrived late last night and were also scheduled to meet their son today. And when he arrived at the guesthouse where the couple were staying, he was asked to give a ride to several Canadian families — NOT EVEN FROM OUR AGENCY — to the Hilton. So we were delayed by an hour and a half by some families that he was not even obligated to help — who also, I should mention, did not even bother to thank Solomon and Germachew for driving them about town. NICE.
Anyway, Solomon is just the type of nice man that people will sometimes take advantage of. He was quite mortified at being late, I think, and of course we were not upset with him. And he once again greeted us with warm hugs which, we’re finding, is an outward gesture of the warm and welcoming people we are finding the Ethiopians to be. So we got into the van and off we went.
We met this great couple from Edmonton, Ken and Tiffany, who were here to meet their (quite frankly AWESOME) 2 1/2 year old son. So we went to the Toddlers Transition Home first, which is an oasis of calm and joy and love, full of toys and bright colours and smiling faces. It is also where Solomon, the agency’s lawyer, has his office (we think he loves being around the toddlers, and they absolutely adore him.) We got a bit of instruction from Solomon the lawyer, including the paperwork required to finish things off, and a stern warning NOT to take any photos or video of any other child but our own under ANY circumstances. Apparently some parent or other has taken video and photos of children who are not theirs and posted them on the internet — can you believe that? — and this is a gross violation of the agreement Solomon the lawyer takes so very seriously to put the needs and rights of these children first and foremost in everything he does. He was quite stern on this point, and justifiably so.
So, once done, we met the most awesome Prince of Ethiopia (Ken and Tiffany’s boy, who everyone refers to as the Prince, resplendent in traditional Ethiopian garb for the New Years celebration and to meet his parents) and then we went to hang with the toddlers while they had their traditional Ethiopian lunch to celebrate New Years Day. We were honoured to observe the traditional festival meal, and the children sang a song to the Prince’s parents to welcome them.
And then, it was our turn.
Off to the Babies’ Transition Home we went. It’s a beautiful, big home in a brand new and quite affluent development in Addis. We arrived to learn our daughter was not ready for us yet — a diva! how perfect! — so we waited a few minutes.
The door opened, and out came the head nurse with this breathtakingly gorgeous little girl. And into our arms she was passed.
We looked down at her, and cooed and talked to her.
She smiled a big grin.
And then she blew bubbles and raspberries at her Daddy.
We were, as you can imagine, instantly and completely smitten.
So we walked around with her and saw all the babies, most contentedly playing or cuddling with a caregiver or snoozing in their cribs. I have never seen 6 rooms so filled with beauty in my whole life.
(And Dianne? Your girl was asleep. But she has the most adorable little pigtails, all over her head.)
We carried our daughter, dressed herself in a traditional Ethiopian holiday dress, around to say hello to all the caregivers, who really, truly take incredible care of these babies. I was so impressed with the house, the healthy happy children, and the care and love these women and men lavish upon each and every child. The standard of care is exceptional — at both locations.
After the tour, we had a coffee ceremony. We had coffee and popcorn and some bread — all of which went over a big hit with all four of us parents, as well as Solomon and Germachew, our liaisons. And our girl began to fuss a wee bit — naptime was approaching — so I got up and rocked her to sleep. She fell asleep in my arms, and we marvelled at how any one little girl could be so immeasurably beautiful.
I handed her off to Solomon, who snuggled her for a while and then took her to her crib.
Once the coffee ceremony was done, Solomon urged us to go and say a goodbye to our daughter. We went in to find her sound asleep, tired out after all the excitement, blankie grasped in one tiny fist, knees tucked under her and bum in the air, like something out of a picture. If we hadn’t been completely smitten with her by then, that one glimpse of her sealed the deal. She’s an angel sent straight from heaven.
So we left our sleeping angel for the day.
Tomorrow we return. More visiting with the wonderful staff and rocking toddlers and sweet babes, more coffee ceremonies.
And then, we bring our girl into our life for good and ever.
We took an extra long weekend. BDH took an extra day off work, which means I got an extra day off, too. And we enjoyed an extra long weekend.
I had a dentist’s appointment, but other than that, there was nothing that had to be done today, so why not make it a really long weekend? So we got armed with a bunch of DVDs and our laptops, and sat down to enjoy another day off. Fortunately it’s been raining all afternoon, so there’s really nothing that had to be done besides sit and listen to the thunder and watch some movies.
BDH generally needs to take a little down time, with the nature of his job. And for me, I have to admit, I enjoy having a day to do absolutely nothing. Even though I don’t work other than my work here around the house, and the odd job I pick up here and there, there is always something that has to be done and so there’s always something hanging over you to get done. So with a day off, the pressure is off and I can be a lazy bum.
Even the dentist is tolerable on a day like that. I even started to feel like dozing off as the seat tilted back. I can’t lie.
For much of the weekend, I was feeling bummed and really bored to be stuck at home and indoors, because it was a wonderfully warm weekend and it would have been great to have been by a pool or at a cottage or by the lake all weekend. I would have loved to have enjoyed the sun, and swam, and all that. But we haven’t any money, so going away wasn’t an option. We did get away to visit friends at their cottage one afternoon, which was so much fun and so relaxing. But once at home, where we haven’t got a pool, staying cool meant staying inside. And so I felt compelled to DO something. I mean, I spend every day here in the house, and I generally DO things. So sitting around was starting to feel like kind of a drag. But I tried to putter in the garden, and the humidity was nasty, and it wasn’t any fun to just carry on with the stuff that has to be done around here. So, finally, BDH asked me “Can’t you just relax and enjoy a day OFF?”
And I thought, “Hm. I guess relaxing MIGHT be nice.”
So we are watching a whole bunch of movies, and I am doing a bit of work while BDH Saves the World from the Forces of Evil. Possibly a load of dishes will get washed. Maybe I’ll throw in some laundry. But if all that gets done is some resting and relaxing, well… sounds fine with me.
It’s a long weekend. Not officially, because today is actually a work day for most people, and then tomorrow is Canada Day. But BDH took today as a vacation day so we would have a long weekend.
I love long weekends. I love just relaxing and doing nothing. We both find we like to have the down time, and with BDH’s job sometimes being a 24-hour-a-day job, he really needs it. We just tend to kick back, watch a lot of movies or play video games or some equally mindless entertainment, and relax.
Part of the reason we do so is economic. We, like many adopting parents, are in a cash crunch. We’re a single-income household that has spent (and will continue to spend) a ton of money on our adoption. So while it would be lovely to go up north for a long weekend, or do some home improvements, or any one of a number of other things, we simply cannot afford it.
But that is really quite okay with us. We enjoy quiet time at home, so fighting the traffic and crowds to go somewhere isn’t exactly appealing. And we know that we’d like to have a deck and gates on our yard and a finished basement and whatever else, but it’s not going to be a priority this year. Heck, even my garden is sparse because buying plants is a bit of an extravagance. So we find other inexpensive pursuits close to home.
One thing I have always hated, and continue to dislike, is using days off as a time to work. I see these families spending their time off together working around the house, or rushing to do a million different things. And I don’t get it. People need time to relax. Sure, there will come a time when there are things that have to be done, like yard work or chores or whatever, and weekends and holidays will be the only time to do that. That’s fine. But not ALL the time.
Kids and parents alike need a little down time to recharge and rest and have a little fun. And I believe that there should be an element of fun on a holiday, even if it’s just a day off from school or work. I see kids programmed to within an inch of their lives nowadays, and I don’t think it’s healthy. I remember looking forward to holidays, and the bliss of summer vacations where I could run around and play, and hours spend reading for fun on a weekend… I want my child to experience that.
So fun is big for us here, although sometimes it’s of the “make your own” variety.
We have fun rather cheaply. We play games of various sorts. We play a little volleyball in the yard. We watch movies. I write in Mystery Baby Girl’s life book, or write articles for my sites. I sort through baby stuff. We start to go through the cupboards and freezer and make impromptu meals with whatever we have. (Last night’s dinner? Baked potatoes.) I take long rides on my exercise bike.
It’s going to be this way for a long time, this “no money” thing. Especially if we decide to adopt again in the future. So we’re trying to get good at it.
One thing I worry about is, years from now when she knows the difference, disappointing Mystery Baby Girl because we’re not taking summer vacations or spending lots of money on things. So I figure if we can make time at home fun, figure out simpler pursuits and tasty meals and whatnot, maybe she won’t know. And maybe that way we can save money for a few treats along the way.
That’s one thing my father did well when raising my sisters and myself. We didn’t have a lot of money, although we never knew it. At least, I didn’t. Neither did anyone outside our family. They always thought we were fairly well off. My father put himself and his two oldest kids through university on a single parent budget. And he paid my high-school tuition. And honestly, I never knew we didn’t have money to do whatever we wanted.
So it can be done. And we’re starting now, with these little things.
Days off for us right now are days off from everything: from work, from spending, from worry. And we spend time together, reconnecting after a week of BDH at work or soccer or whatever. It doesn’t cost a lot, and the benefits we get — from relaxing and having fun together — are pretty priceless.
It’s cold and dreary here this morning, and the rain and the damp makes one wake up kind of melancholy. I find on days like this I get thinking a lot, without the sunshine to brighten my mood, and that puts me in kind of a funk. With enough coffee or things to do, or sunshine breaking through after a few hours, it’ll pass. But until then, I tend to stew over things.
Today, I got to thinking back over the weekend, and Mother’s Day, for instance.
Mother’s Day is not a big deal to me, personally, because I never celebrated it as a child except when I was very small. As a matter of fact, it was a day that I came to dread because those were still the days of nuclear families, and teachers just didn’t have the deftness of mind to think of alternate activities for the kids without two-parent families on those parental holidays when the entire class was making handmade cards or gifts. Or perhaps they couldn’t be bothered. Whatever. But at any rate, it was a non-event for me. Or, at least, one that was studiously avoided by a motherless daughter.
And nowadays, it’s still not a big deal. I thought it would be hard for me, first during all the miscarriage/infertility business and now with the adoption, to have these holidays pass while I was still not a mom. But really, it’s been no big deal. I know for some women, it’s really hard. But for me, I don’t really feel I am missing anything, I don’t feel sad or anything — it’s just another day.
So I begin to wonder — is it suddenly going to be a big deal when I AM a mom? Am I going to care? Has 35 years of not recognizing it made it a non-event for me? I wonder. Some moms I know just think of it as a nice day, and they get some special recognition, which is a treat. I know other women who take the day very seriously. A few fellows I know are “grounded” for the day because it’s Mother’s Day, so they can be available to stay at home and help with the kids and, presumably, fuss over their wives. And I guess, in some households, it’s the only day “off” a mom gets, or the only day a mom feels she’s being thanked for her hard work. So I suppose that in those cases, it makes sense that Mother’s Day is a big deal.
But for me, I don’t know how it will be.
I know that in our little family as it is right now, we’re not terribly traditional about holidays anyway. We don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day, for example, with the thinking that if we have to set aside one day of the year to signify we love one another, then we’re clearly not doing our jobs the other 364 days of the year. And even on birthdays — if I know in advance that BDH has a soccer game or a business trip or whatever on my birthday, we’ll just do something another day. Or if he’s got something he really wants to buy, even if it’s the middle of summer and his birthday is in the fall, we’ll buy it and that’s his birthday present. And we buy each other treats and stuff during the year and call them “unbirthday” presents anyway. So birthdays are no biggie.
I suppose it all changes when you have kids, though. I mean, birthdays become a big thing because kids like having a special day. And I totally go all in for celebrating OTHER people’s special days. But when it’s my own, like Mother’s Day, I wonder… will I suddenly care? Will it suddenly become a big thing for me? I don’t know. Somehow I doubt it, but then, I don’t know. Maybe it will. Or maybe it will become a day when we remember Mystery Baby’s birth mother, as some families do. It’s hard to say — it’s all an unknown.
So many things are going to change when Mystery Baby is here and no longer a mystery. I wonder whether this will be one of them. It will require a quantum shift in my current thinking, but then, that’s what kids do to a person.
So… another long weekend has come and gone here Chez Peevish.
We don’t do a lot on our days off. It’s as though we know that soon, we won’t be able to just sleep late and indulge our laziness on a holiday whenever we want. Because if we ever get a referral, and if we ever find ourselves parents to more than a bunch of lunatic cats, we won’t be able to sleep late or be lazy bumps on logs anymore.
Part of me is kind of sad to see those days pass, because let’s face it… who doesn’t love being lazy and whiling away a long weekend doing whatever you want? Like this weekend, for example, where we got up late, lounged around in our comfy clothes, and watched DVDs for almost the entire weekend.
But part of me is looking forward to having a small person around to jolt us out of our laziness. Because as we spend more and more years with just the two of us, there are some things that are fading out.
Take this long weekend, for example. It was Easter, but it really didn’t feel any different than any other weekend. Because there is just the two of us, it’s more of a hassle than anything to do something special to commemorate a holiday. There’s no point in making a big meal or a big fuss. But with children around, the fuss is kind of fun. There are chocolate eggs to hide and hunt for, and hot cross buns to make, and a nice dinner to sit down to.
And the same goes for all the major holidays. Without kids or family (and thanks to the ridiculously high price charged for an otherwise cheap turkey), Thanksgiving is a no-go. Christmas is just a chore, dragging out decorations for just the two of us to look at and then dragging them back into storage again a few weeks later. The only one we really get jazzed for is Halloween because the kids come to us.
We used to celebrate all the holidays like crazy, when life as a couple was new. And when we get home to visit family, of course there’s a special sort of magic to the holidays again. But after many years of just the two of us, there’s not a lot about a holiday to get excited about anymore. So having kids around brings that excitement back.
I know some parents are jaded and find the holidays to be a hassle, even with kids. And I know that for many parents, after a few years there’s a lot of work to holidays, even with kids around to add some excitement and fun. And I can’t tell you how many times some parents have looked at us, their childless friends, with their “oh, YOU’RE in for a SURPRISE” look and smug-with-a-hint-of-condescension tone of voice and told us how much they’d give for just one day of sleeping late.
But we don’t know that side of things, yet. We long for the sound of little feet coming into the bedroom and excited little voices begging to go downstairs and see what the Easter Bunny has brought. We dream of the wonder on a little face at the sight of a Christmas tree after Santa has come. And sitting down to a big family meal might be a nice change from a pan of cheese nachos in front of the TV.
So, yeah… Soon sleeping in will be a thing of the past. Soon there will be perpetual noise and mess and activity. Soon we won’t be able to watch a season of a TV show on DVD at one sitting. But maybe soon, holidays will feel special again. Soon maybe there will be a reason to look forward to a day on the calendar other than the sleep we hope to get. Soon, maybe there will be a little magic.
Just so you know… the Apocalypse is upon us. (I am only telling you this because I care, and I want you to be prepared. But it IS coming.)
Now, you may ask yourself, how do I know this?
I had always thought there were Four Horsemen to warn of the Apocalypse. Turns out, it’s actually FOUR CATS.
Oh yes. FOUR CATS.
And I saw them this morning. (Well, starting last night actually, when Cinnamon climbed up onto my bed and actually SETTLED IN as opposed to behaving like a GIANT WEENIE.)
There are definite signs:
Lucy ate CAT FOOD this morning. (I know. I hope you are sitting down.) The most finicky cat in the universe ate what was OFFERED.
I bribed Bubby to eat by giving her a couple of teaspoons of the high-test regular cat food instead of her special diet food. She thinks she has pulled a fast one on me, and has been positively HAPPY and JAUNTY all morning. NARY A SHOUT TO BE HAD.
The aforementioned “Cinnamon-doesn’t-behave-like-a-weenie” incident of last night.
Duncan was actually SCARED by something this morning, and is now walking around with the poofiest tail I have ever seen. He’s like Pepe Le Pew over there.
Oh, there are other signs, too:
BDH did all the dishes yesterday. Voluntarily. Cheerfully.
We have a LONG WEEKEND in FEBRUARY. Like I have been wishing for my entire life.
I am getting significantly more sleep with my mask on these days.
It’s still early days, but it looks like this may actually be a month in which we are spending less than we make. And in a tax month, too. (I know. Crazy. Staying within budget. Us. Hard to imagine.)
BDH ate TOFU last week. Happily. AND SQUASH.
But you KNOW the Apocalypse will be upon us if we get the biggest sign of all in the near future: A REFERRAL. If that happens… well, all I can say, is pack some water and canned goods and run for the hills, man.
We’re home. And while I love being on vacation, it is quite nice to be home.
I find we miss things when we’re away, just little things about our daily lives and routines and such. All our stuff is around us here, so there are myriad options of things to do and things that you might need. When you’re away, you’re in someone else’s home or cooking in someone else’s kitchen or sleeping in an unfamiliar bed, and no matter how wonderful the place is that you’re visiting, you still miss your stuff. So it’s nice to be back for the familiarity of it all.
We had a lovely week away. Relaxing. Surrounded by loved ones. More food than could feed the Prussian army. Endless glasses of wine. Sleeping late. And a crossword puzzle for every day of the week! It was wonderful.
But still, we’re happy to be home. We missed the cats. We even had little cameras set up so we could log in and watch them while we were away. We saw lots of sleeping. Mostly Lucy. And we did not see Duncan ONCE during the entire week — and we worried that his sisters had killed him and buried the body in one of the litter boxes. BDH missed Duncan, his Little Buddy, in particular. (It’s a guy thing.)
So there was much snuggling and scratching under the chin and cats-on-laps when we got home.
And The Bubby. If you can believe it, we missed the Incredible Shrieking Bubby. BDH got up early yesterday morning — he let me sleep in — and went out to the 24 hr. grocery store and picked up groceries for the week and bought me a coffee from my favourite coffeeshop and then he went to the vet and picked up Opus. He had really missed her. She had been boarded all week because she is so old and fragile and… well… DEMANDING… so she had a staff to attend to her every whim. So he brought her home and we gave her many, many cuddles and lots of love.
And it only took her about 45 minutes to begin shouting her fool head off at us again. But that was okay.
So BDH has been preparing every meal since we got home — I think he’s enjoying puttering around his own kitchen again. We’re not answering the phone and we’re staying indoors as much as possible. And we’re enjoying the quiet and futzing around on computers and laughing at the cats’ antics and generally relaxing.
It’s like a vacation after our vacation. Two vacations in a row.
My head, for example. I have that fuzzy head this morning, that feeling that you get when you are on vacation and you get up WAY earlier than you wanted to (even though it was much later than the rest of the house) and you feel a bit dopey. It’s like your head is a movie theatre, way back in the day when you were still allowed to smoke in the theatre, and what you see or think is like a movie trying to project through all the smoke and haze to the screen.
My eyes are a bit fuzzy, like there’s schmutz in them. I think my mask sprung some leaks overnight and little blasts of air were blowing in my eyes all night. So I am blinking and rubbing my eyes and generally feeling like I am looking at things underwater. I hate that feeling.
I put on a fuzzy sweater this morning, because as the day progresses, we’re in for a storm. A fair-sized snowstorm is forecast to blow through Nova Scotia this afternoon and tonight, dumping 20 cm of snow on the region. GREAT. Just in time for us to drive to the airport for our flight home tomorrow. Won’t THAT be fun. I guess I had better pack my bags accordingly today, so that I’ve got something fuzzy and comfortable for tomorrow too — in case we’re stuck in the airport for an extended period of time.
And I could use something fuzzy today — specifically, my cats. I miss them while I am on vacation, and although we set up webcams to watch them while we are away, the little stinkers have been studiously avoiding their usual haunts, which we set the cameras up specifically to watch. If the storm comes in, today would be a great day to sit in front of the window with a big cup of tea and a Lucy on my lap, watching the snowfall. And BDH is missing the girls too — at least Cinnamon sits in my chair in front of the camera at home from time to time, so we get to see her snoozing or having a bath or what have you. But there’s been no sign of Duncan since we’ve been gone, and BDH misses his little buddy.
Maybe I should while away the time watching Hot Fuzz today — that would make my fuzzy day fuzzier still.
We’re on vacation, in beautiful rural Nova Scotia.
Beautiful DAMP Nova Scotia.
It’s about 10 degrees outside. All the snow is melting. There’s fog all over the place.
It’s like… HEAVEN. Only without the cherubs whizzing by.
I even got through the plane ride without too much stress and/or damage to BDH’s hand as I gripped it tightly during take-off and landing.
Before I left, I set myself several goals to accomplish on my vacation:
Visit with family. - HALF A CHECK. I have seen about half of the family, including my newest niece, who came in while I was doing yoga this morning, and seemed sorely disappointed when I popped my head up after doing a “downward dog” and she realized that I was NOT, in fact, her sister.
Sleep like the dead.
Eat seafood chowder at our favourite local restaurant. - CHECK. Did that when we came in last night. Big chunks of fish and lobster. YUM.
Eat a massive breakfast at a Big Stop.
Don’t drink as much wine as I usually do. (This one I will fail at horribly. But I have aspirations nonetheless.)
Play Sims2 with my niece.
Do yoga each day.
I feel it is a sound plan. Nothing too strenuous. But since it is nice and warm out, I might add a daily walk to the list. It’s hard to say.
I still feel like we haven’t fully decompressed yet from the stresses of everyday life back at home, but we are getting there. Talk to me by Friday morning, and I would expect I will be completely vacated by then.
Here we are in 2008. Is everything changed? Do we all feel renewed and different?
Nah. Didn’t think so.
New Years is always such an odd event. I mean, not just for the drunken revelling and beer-goggle choices in the evening’s partners and the random kissing of strangers, although for the outsider looking in that can all be pretty amusing. But it’s odd because it’s basically a day like every other, except people use it as the start of their life’s “do over”.
So many resolutions are made. People make promises to themselves that the majority won’t keep. They set themselves up for failure, year after year. But hey, at least they get to get all drunk and party, party, party while they do it!
I used to try to make resolutions. I used to say, “Okay, it’s the new year. It’s a good day to start X or Y or Z, or change A or B or C about myself”.
And usually? MONUMENTAL failure. I know that there are some people that can keep their resolutions, faithfully, and change their lives for the better. I am NOT one of those people.
There have been years where a resolution has been broken THAT. SAME. DAY. Resolve to eat better? Yes, well, that was before I found myself mindlessly eating chocolates from the bowl on the coffeetable while absorbed in a movie. Resolve to exercise more? Yes, well usually that train is running out of the station on the first very cold/snowy/rainy/inclement weather of any sort — and I am not running after it, but rather sitting on my butt somewhere. Resolve to lose weight? See the two previous resolutions.
For the most part, though, I can keep a few of them going for a little while. I used to start them with a journal. Needless to say, both the journal and the resolutions were abandoned completely — if I did VERY well, mind you — by March or April or so. Our house is littered with journals, full of fervent writing for the first 20 or 30 pages… but after that, you’re looking at the middle of a great big empty.
But in recent years, our lives have been too up-in-the-air, too much at the mercy of others, for us to even want to make any sort of resolution. We had doctors telling us what to do and what not to do and when to come and go, and agencies telling us what to bring them and when and why. And 2008 is going to be no exception. For the first half, our lives will be at the mercy of decision-makers here and in Kenya and in Ethiopia, and for the second half, they will be will be at the mercy of a little person who — I am sure — intends to rule our lives with a chubby iron fist and a winning smile.
Try keeping your resolve in the face of THAT.
But there are some suggestions I can make to myself that will be easier to follow. I will try to keep my perspective as best I can this year in the face of what will doubtless be some daunting situations. I want to try to be a more organized manager of our home, and a more attentive and more patient wife and pet owner and, eventually, mother. I can try to work toward being healthier and better prepared for the rigours of travel and parenthood. I should continue to try to be a good person, in general.
But those are things that are ongoing. They don’t require a special date to tell me it’s time to start.
Happy New Year! It’s another New Year’s Eve. I don’t know about you, but I’m counting on a definite change of fortunes for 2008. Because we’ve had a run of quite frankly rough years, and we want a good one for a change.
We’re going over to visit with friends this evening — nothing fancy, just hanging out and relaxing. We’re not big partiers, so we like a quiet evening — good food, good conversation, some wine… Although right now I am so sleepy I could just as easily go to bed early and not mind one bit.
And since it’s New Year’s Eve, I’ve been singing this song to myself all morning. Have a listen to the perfect Ella Fitzgerald (there’s no video, really, only audio) and enjoy!
So much for Christmas. It’s over for another year.
When did time start to move so quickly? It was only a short time ago when the first snow began to fall, we had people over for my birthday, I was beginning to think about Christmas baking… and suddenly, in a flash or two of the digital camera, it’s done.
It seems that the older we get, the faster it goes. And for us, it’s not even that big of an event to begin with. We drag out a couple of decorations, we buy a couple of presents, we watch a couple of holiday movies. But we never really feel Christmas-y, not really. I am sure that it will all change when we have kids, but the magic isn’t really there for us now that we’re older. Sure, we had a lovely day, and we tried being festive and all that, but aside from the gifts and the food, it could have been any other day.
What IS nice about Christmas, though, is the opportunity to relax. When we’re here for Christmas, we don’t have to worry about visiting or entertaining, so once we get our baking and gift-giving for friends done, we have about a week of time all to ourselves. We clean the house, just so we can enjoy a few days in a nice, clean house. We decorate because we like how pretty it looks. We cook, but there’s no massive meal for umpteen people. And we can both sit and relax and enjoy some time together. I knit, BDH plays his video games. The cats have a special treat of turkey bits and pieces and then they snooze away under the tree or in some quiet corner or other. And we all unwind.
When we go home for Christmas, it’s much more festive. There are kids around so the magic of Santa is still in the air. There are big family meals but everyone pitches in. But even with BDH’s family, everyone appreciates this time of year as a bit of time to unwind and relax and so there’s still not a lot of rushing about and entertaining all and sundry. It’s still a relaxing time, just with more people around to relax with.
Now we’re in the post-Xmas, post-Boxing Day twilight zone. BDH has gone in to work for two short days after 5 days at home. He’ll go into an office that is half-staffed at best, as most people will undoubtedly have taken holidays. Nobody will feel much like working. They’re still mentally on holidays. People will mill about, chatting about their Christmas, eating leftover turkey and sweets from the holiday, and then after two days of work they’ll be back home for a weekend. Then, back in for one day — New Year’s Eve — and then off for one day, then back for 3… And then we are taking proper holidays for two weeks.
But even if BDH had taken holidays over Christmas and New Year’s this year, we’d still be in that post-Christmas stupor. Stuffing ourselves with leftover turkey dinner and plopped on the couch watching videos that Santa brought just two days before. Sleeping late, napping, yawning in front of the television. Sitting at the window with coffee full of cream and a shot of something special and watching the snow fall. It was all we could do to get up and get moving for work today.
I think it’s nice that we’ve abandoned the frazzled high-stress rushing-about holiday time in favour of quiet and relaxing and time off. We certainly feel a lot more peaceful on earth and feel more goodwill to men. But maybe that’s because we’re stuffed so full of turkey.
I love playing “spot the pop star” while watching this — and laughing at the bad ’80s styles. (But they were so COOL back then!) And I love that it features the great and beautiful Paul Young, one of the pop heroes of my youth.
This song is just a small part of my deep and abiding love and admiration for Bob Geldof and Midge Ure.
It’s the last Friday before Christmas! So I thought we’d do something about… Easter. (HA! I kid. I’m a kidder.) Of course we’ll do CHRISTMAS!
I am feeling still not-so-festive-as-I-would-like, but I am getting there. It’ll be a quiet, downmarket Christmas for us, but sometimes those can be lovely. Only a few presents, not as much running around and two slightly overstuffed, sleepy people relaxing in front of endless holiday DVDs. Sounds quite nice, actually.
So let’s see if we can’t all get festiver (adj: more festive, as in “Ooooh, a Swiss Chalet Festive Special would hit the spot right now. It always makes me feel festiver.” or “Great idea putting antlers on the dog, Madge. Now the place looks festiver.”) before the holiday comes. Let’s talk about all the very best things about Christmas, and maybe we can get some collective holiday spirit going here!
Do you open presents on Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?
What’s your favourite Christmas movie?
What was your best Christmas gift ever when you were a child?
What’s your favourite ornament on the Christmas tree?
If money were no object, what’s one gift you’d love to buy for someone?
Do you have any slightly odd or strange or silly traditions at Christmas?
What are your 3 favourite treats during the holidays?
Are you partial to any particular decoration/theme for the holidays?
What are your 3 favourite Christmas songs?
What are you most looking forward to this Christmas?
I’m out today visiting with my new little nephew. So to keep you all amused until I return…
Quite possibly my all-time favourite Christmas song, “Fairytale of New York” by the Pogues, and featuring the late, great Kirsty MacColl. If you know the song, you know how lovely it is. And if you don’t… well, let’s just say it’s a bit colourful there in the middle, so beware if there are little ears listening.
It’s a beautiful song that makes me a bit welly each time I hear it. And shame, SHAME on the BBC for censoring it this year.
A preliminary Christmas wish list. It’s a work in progress. I’d like to see Santa carry some of this stuff down the chimney, though.
World Peace. No, too big. Must think in smaller steps. Okay… World Don’t-be-such-bastards-to-each-other-all-the-damn-time.
A dishwasher that works. (Not my husband. Although I appreciate him doing the dishes for me.)
Good quality, restful sleep.
Plentiful food for the winter for Charleston and the other deer who live out back. (The squirrels are fine. Especially the piggly wiggly one who sits in the feeder and stuffs himself before lumbering back home.)
Some peace and happiness at Christmas for friends who are going through a difficult time right now.
Really, really good coffee. With Bailey’s in it. And cream. For Christmas morning. And maybe a couple days after that.
A team of cleaning elves to come clean my house from top to bottom. Hm. Still thinking too big. How about… A tidy house for Christmas.
Referrals for Nicky and Haze and Ricki and Shannon and all my other my dear online friends.
The mysterious disappearance of 2530 40 pounds. (Aim high.)
A cat-free Christmas tree.
A couple of days of sitting on my butt and knitting over the holidays.
Who knew an 8-plus pound cat could wreak so much havoc at the holidays?
Our little man, Duncan, is not so little any more. At 9 months, he’s almost bigger than any of the other cats. And I think he’s going to get bigger still.
But he’s still a kitten. He’s still learning about his world and everything is still new and exciting. He touches everything, and smells it, and tastes it, and watches the most mundane things with wonder and astonishment and curiosity. And we forget that he’s still such a little boy inside, because he’s so big.
For example, snow is new to him. He stands in the foyer, sniffing the cold air when we come in and out. He sat in the window this weekend, just amazed at the falling snowflakes. He watched it fall for hours, tracking individual snowflakes. He eats the snow off our pants and boots when we come in — it’s something new.
And so is Christmas. Unfortunately.
He’s endlessly fascinated by the tree. We brought it out in stages, so he would have a chance to get used to it. He investigated the branches as they lay on the floor, tasting them from time to time, hiding in them to ambush his sister at other times. Then we put the tree up, bare of lights or decoration, so he could lay under it and look at it and get used to its presence. Then we put the lights on it.
And that’s where it began to get REALLY interesting.
Duncan was fascinated by the illuminated tree. He would flop down under it, roll onto his back, and gaze up at the lights. Maybe he thought they were pretty. He occasionally tried to taste one or two, but with a stern “NO!” he left them alone pretty quickly.
And then, on Friday, we decorated it.
For as long as I can remember — my entire life, actually — we have put cheap, indestructible ornaments on the bottom boughs of the Christmas tree for our cats. It has always been that these ornaments are THEIR ornaments, so they have their own special part of the tree, and if they bat them or knock them off, it’s okay. They have their spot, and they generally are content. And they get bored pretty quickly. Once they mystery is gone from the tree, they could care less.
For the last 18 Christmases, we’ve had 2 jinglebells that we hang on the very bottom branches of the tree. They are Opus’s bells. Ever since she was a tiny kitten, they have been her bells to swat and jingle whenever she wants. She’s too old to care now, but every now and again she’ll walk by and you’ll hear a little tinkly noise as she trots away from the tree (giggling to herself, no doubt). Also, they act as an early warning system that something (read: cat) is causing a ruckus around the tree, so we know to watch for trouble.
And Duncan? He LOVES bells. He spent the first hour the tree was up just endlessly swatting at the bells, having a heck of a time. So we put the rest of the ornaments on the tree, the cats snoozed underneath on the tree skirt, and all was right with the world.
Or so we thought.
We went to bed Friday, and slept right through. I woke on Saturday to find the cats in all their usual spots, mostly lounging in front of the bedroom door waiting for people to wake up. I went upstairs to grab my laptop, and noticed…
Ornaments. All over the floor.
So, I let BDH know about it. He went upstairs.
He came downstairs.
The words “little bastard” escaped his lips. Although, not in an angry way. More in a “what are you going to do”, defeated sort of way.
Now, we have an artificial tree. The branches? They’re made of wire. Wire that is designed to support lights, and glass balls, and little angels, and other pretty little ornaments.
NOT a large, fuzzy, mobile ornament. Certainly not an 8-plus pound ornament.
As it appeared to us, doing a little crime scene investigation afterwards, it seems our little man took the middle of the night as an opportunity to do a little tree climbing.
There was a huge, gaping, Duncan-sized hole in the branches from ground level, up through the branches, and out to the front, where there was another huge, gaping, Duncan-sized hole. All the branches on one side, about 2/3 of the way up, were flattened and bent down. The tree “stem” was bent into a bit of a curve. And there were ornaments scattered all over the floor.
It appears he tunnelled up through the branches, and attempted to lay across several of the boughs. Either the sparkly exciting new things were too irrestistable to his little kitten eyes, or he thought it might be nice to snooze at elevation.
Either way, our tree needed some repair work.
You can’t get mad. Cats climb trees. It’s what they do. And I’ve known plenty of people — my sister, for example — for whom cats in the Christmas tree is just a normal, everyday part of Christmas. But it’s the first time in 40 years that one of my own cats has done it.
But from that day on, Duncan and the Christmas tree have had an adversarial relationship. Since that day, Duncan has found that whenever he’s started fussing at the Christmas tree or the ornaments, there’s a lot of shouting of “NO!”, and he gets very, very wet.
And Santa will probably be bringing squirt guns for Christmas for the people in this house.
Christmas is coming, and the goose is not the only thing that is getting fat. OY, there’s so much to eat and drink during the Christmas season, it’s no wonder everyone is merry. Except shopping — people are not merry when they are shopping. And let’s not even get into how NOT merry people are when they are PARKING. If the world is a merry Christmas wonderland, then parking lots are where the Grinch sets up his recruitment centres.
Well I am trying my best to get all festive and all that, but it’s hard. I’m just not feeling the Christmas spirit. There’s no anticipation, there’s no excitement… I am sure that will change when the tree is fully up and decorated and presents are under the tree. But right now, the only thing that makes me feel vaguely festive is Jose Feliciano. (”FELIZ NAVIDAD! FELIZ NAVIDAD! Feliz Navidad, mumble mumble mumble mumble mumble! A HA!”)
So let’s try to get a little festiver, shall we? Let’s try to get some comfort and joy going with this week’s edition of the Friday Fun.
Rum and eggnog, or Baileys?
Multicoloured lights on the outside of the house, or all one colour?
Gift cards or actual presents?
“Ave Maria” or “O Holy Night”?
Nuts and a nutcracker, or tangerines?
Charlie Brown Christmas or Frosty the Snowman?
Elves or reindeer?
Salvation Army or Angel Trees?
Travelling or staying home for the holidays?
“Santa Claus is Coming to Town” or “Feliz Navidad”?
If there are homemade cookies, they will get eaten.
Corollary: If you have plans for said cookies — gifting them, eating them yourself — sooner is better than later.
Telemarketers should not be surprised by rude responses, especially during dinner time, after 8 pm/kids’ bedtimes, and on weekends.
Corollary: Telemarketers should not be surprised that they get no responses at all if they call using an 800 number, a made-up number like 012-345-6789, or a number that shows up as “unknown”.
Corollary: Whoever invented call display should be knighted.
When it comes to pyjamas, chocolate and breakfast, the time on the clock is irrelevant.
Corollary: Drinking does NOT come under the above rule.
Corollary: Phone calls do NOT come under the above rule. Especially see “telemarketers”, above.
Drop-ins are never cool.
Corollary: See “pyjamas and time”, above.
Yoga is a very old Indian word, meaning “Contradiction”.*
Corollary: When your yoga instructor starts talking about “focus” and “being present” and “concentration”, that is when there will be interruptions.
Corollary: You are implored to relax in poses that require you to be upside down, supporting your entire body weight with your hands, or standing on your head.
Corollary: It is impossible to breathe deeply in most poses. Especially with a belly in the way.
“Christmas Classic” and “National Lampoon” should NEVER be in the same sentence.
Corollary: Almost anything containing Bing Crosby is completely fine for the holidays. Even if it’s a Western, set in Bali, or has a strange Robin Hood plotline. Or all of the above together, even.
Cats are non-traditional lovers of Christmas.
Corollary: The more you spend on something for your cat, the higher the disdain your cat will have for an item.
Corollary: Cats are fuzzy, mobile ornaments you can find in manger scenes, under Christmas tree skirts and in Christmas trees.
Well, let me just say, it’s tiresome wallowing in self pity. (Plus, if you wallow too long in ANYTHING, your fingers get all pruney. And nobody likes THAT.) So I am determined to NOT for a little while. I am shaking it off. And do you know how?
No, not yoga. Because yesterday? I was doing some downward dog/chimichanga combination thingy, and MY ELBOW. It PAINED me. So I stopped for a second, and tried it again as a test, and OW! More pain! What, am I in such feeble-ass shape that I have a YOGA INJURY?? Yoga is supposed to be GENTLE exercise, isn’t it? What’s next, spraining a pancreas doing Tai Chi? An Origami-related stress fracture?
But I digress.
No. This week I shall do my Christmas baking! You can’t be bummed while doing Christmas baking! Put on some festive music, get up to here in flour and sugar, and voila! Instant karma change. You can’t be bummed while listening to Bing and putting buttons on snowman cookies.
And we’re not talking just ANY baking here — oh no. We’re bringing out the heavy artillery. Shortbread. ROLLED shortbread. And fruitcake. And BDH’s favourite, icebox cookies. And whatever else comes to mind.
Plus, it’s like AN HOUR AND A HALF until Christmas or something ridiculous like that, and time has passed so quickly, and I have nothing done. And since we don’t have any money, all we can give people as gifts is baked goodness. Which isn’t such a bad thing, really.
So me and Bing and a cast of several will be downstairs in the kitchen until further notice. If you’re looking for me, just follow your nose.
We went to BDH’s company Christmas party last night.
Let me say right off the bat, I have been to some VERY BAD corporate Christmas parties. I have worked for some very sketchy companies and generally speaking, you have to endure these cheap-ola Christmas parties, badly catered, with lots of badly behaved coworkers and drunken dancing… And at one, some hookers came in off the street and crashed the party. So I know that most of the time, you are there to make an appearance, show “you’re one of the team” (oh dotGod, how I hate that about corporate culture), and then escape as quickly as humanly possible.
This? Was not one of those parties.
They do such an excellent job with their corporate Christmas party at BDH’s company. They spare no expense, and it’s an elegant and social evening. Lots of mingling and chatting, gorgeous atmosphere, excellent (if some years a bit too haute cuisine) food — and absolutely NO DANCING. It’s always an event to look forward to. You get dressed up, you go to a lovely restaurant, and always have a nice time.
And last night was probably the best one yet. The food was simplified this year — no crazy weed salad with a big hunk of brie and walnuts in the middle, no strange herb-flavoured chocolate as in previous years — so we had very good steak or fish or something else (I forget), and caesar salad, and this awesome seafood crepe appetizer, and a big decadent dessert. The wine was lovely. The group we had at our table was fun, full of lively conversation. It was an excellent night.
(And BDH was part of the two-person committee that arranged everything. And it was PERFECT.)
This morning, however, I feel like I overindulged the night before — which indeed, I certainly did. I ate until I was stuffed. All that rich, wonderful food… and today, I have that “oh-my-doG-I-can’t-even-LOOK-at-food” kind of feeling. Happily, the red wine I drank did NOT come back to haunt me — no tannin headache (yet). And I am really tired.
But it was totally worth it. Not every week, of course… But for one special night of the year, we eat and drink until we’re ready to burst. And have a lovely time.
I almost — ALMOST — feel a bit Christmassy now.
(Talk to me after I operate on the dishwasher. I’ll be back to my Grinchy self.)
“Unofficial International Hug A Librarian (and Return Your Overdue Books, Dammit) Day”
(But only if they WANT you to hug them. Remember, peeps, unwanted touching is WRONG. And also? Some of these librarians will lay you out. Don’t mess with them, man.)
It was a great time had by all, and so I designated Nov. 30 a holiday. And although I don’t use the blog anymore, I kept the Peevish Kitty blog open JUST for this day.
Librarians continue to rock my world, and they should rock yours, too.
Another Wednesday, another garbage day… I could mark time off in bags of garbage. Especially this week, with all the barfing and such. Or the fact that I feel like I haven’t had any sleep, because last night was my weekly deadline for an article that I write and so consequently I was researching all day yesterday and was up late writing. And then I dreamt about volleyball statistics all night long.
Time is passing and marked by things I must do. Such is the life built on a routine. The familiar rhythm of things that need to be done, everything in its time…
But then, every now and again my time gets sidetracked by things I don’t HAVE to do, but by things I WANT to do, and although it sends my schedule off on some temporal bobsleigh ride to hell, I don’t mind so much.
It never hurts to be kind to people. The smallest gesture, a bit of recognition, and it makes someone’s day that much better. What’s that great line from Sports Night? “So you say a few words. You make a gesture. You remember an important date. A small price to pay for what you get in return. For what you get in return, it’s a steal.” And it’s true. Days are just so much better when you can do something nice for someone.
So, at BDH’s office, one of his managers was looking at the calendar and noticed that Christmas Eve this year falls on a Monday. So, that would mean going in for a half-day or maybe a little more on a Monday, just to have 2 days off again after that. So this manager decided to give everyone in the office Christmas Eve Day off. Completely free. They’ll just shut the office down and give everyone an extended holiday.
Well I can tell you, BDH was ecstatic, since he is on call over the holidays. We have to stay home this Christmas, but at least now he gets almost a week off. It’s great. So he emailed me the good news.
I replied, “You tell him I am sending him in a pumpkin bread just for that.” And he did. BDH went over and thanked his manager, and told him I was sending him in some treats to thank him for his generosity.
Well, as it turns out, out of all the people in the office, BDH was the ONLY ONE to thank this manager for this very kind gesture. I mean, I know in this day and age, these things are often expected of management, and taken for granted. But it’s something they didn’t have to do, and in a small office, to shut down for a day and still pay the employees, it’s a fair chunk of change to do something like that. And he said the man was quite chuffed at the prospect that I would be making him some treats to say thanks. He’s a really good guy, from what I know of him. It makes me wonder just how thankless his job might be.
So I put aside some of my work yesterday to take time to bake him some pumpkin bread. It set me back a couple of hours, what with the making and the baking and the cleanup and wrapping it up, which meant I was up til midnight finishing my article, and some laundry didn’t get done. But I think it’s worth it.
I hope he enjoys it. It isn’t much, but it’s a little special something to say how much we appreciate the kindness he’s given to us and everyone at the office. And I am glad we said thank you. And so even though I am tired and behind in my routine, I am pretty pleased, all things considered.
I’m live blogging Halloween LIVE from right here in my kitchen, as it happens! You will be able to experience Halloween here in our little corner of the world, as it happens! LIVE! All the thrills! All the spills! All the excitement! As it happens!
Mostly this is because I have to sit down here and wait for the little monkeys to come scavenging for candy. So you get to sit here with me and my bitterness too.
4:45 pm — Supper will be whenever it’s ready because, well, I forgot to get some things, so BDH has to stop at the store on the way home. BAH.
5:10 pm — Last check to make sure the pumpkins on the porch are still upright. I bought plastic pumpkins this year, and while lovely and economical, they are also very LIGHT. And with a strong wind tonight, I fear they may go rolling off across the porch.
5:24 pm — No kids yet, but it’s getting darker. Rain’s coming, so I bet we see little ones soon. Best go turn on the pumpkins.
5:28 pm — Bubby’s all wigging out and running around like a little nutter. She loves Halloween. She used to sit and wait for all the kids and run to the door each time the doorbell rang. But now that her hearing is going, I wonder if she’ll even notice. No doubt Cinnamon will go into hiding at the first ring.
5:31 pm — I keep peering through the window at the Mayor’s place. It’s all done up with dead people in the garden and a ghost on the porch and a car accident, complete with guy under the tires and traffic cones, in his driveway. He may be annoying as hell, but he loves to decorate for Halloween and goes all out. And it looks great, I’ll give him that.
5:35 pm — Captain Motorcycle across the street has finally, FINALLY got it into his head that the giant trench he’s gouged in his front lawn up to his porch where his brickwork will one day go is actually a GIANT SAFETY HAZARD, especially with little ones coming around with their parents in the dark. So he’s clued in that maybe it’s a good idea to mark it all off with yellow safety tape. Good thinking, Mr. Einstein.
5:40 pm — Still no sign of BDH. Betcha he picks up more candy at the store. I bought enough candy for EXACTLY 125 kids — no more, no less. I only like the little ones anyway, so I have no problems shutting off the lights and closing up shop when the time comes: when we run out of candy or when the older brats come, whatever comes first. But BDH is generous.
5:44 pm — Why are the noisy dirty children from 2 doors down outside playing in the front lawn? Where are their shiftless parents? Why are they not getting costumes on and supper in their bellies to get ready for trick-or-treating?
5:50 pm — Still no sign of kids, but BDH is home. Philosophical discussion: Porch light on, with safety in mind, but making it pointless to have lights on in the pumpkins? Or porch light off, screw safety, and make the pumpkins look good? A tough call, that. Discuss.
5:54 pm — Opus is NOT being very patient. She sits in the foyer and shouts. She wants the kids to come NOW, dammit.
6:02 pm — Still no kids. Maybe we’ll get some dinner after all.
6:05 pm — Aha! Clued in. BDH reminded me that there has not been a time change yet, so it’s still light. In previous years, it would be dark by 5:30 and you’d see the little tiny kids around that time. But this year, it’s still not dark yet.
6:11 pm — The porch light discussion wears on.
(Betcha didn’t know that Halloween could be THIS. MUCH. FUN. now, did you??)
6:16 pm — BDH puts on a movie. Hot Fuzz. When the movie is over, so is the trick or treating, man.
6:21 pm — First kids! 2 ninjas, a scary monster-type guy, and a fellow insisting he’s NOT a business man. But he’s wearing a tie… Oh jeez, maybe he’s a kid from Harry Potter.
6:29 pm — DING DONG! Scary ghoul-type kid with flashing wand. What the hell are these kids watching that they get these ideas?
6:34 pm — YAY! Little ones! A Spider Man and a skunk and a bumble bee…
6:37 pm — DUDE. That guy had to be 6′3″. Probably in his late teens. But, with his mom taking him around, I think he’s probably a little slow. So, let him enjoy the night, too.
6:41 pm — The CUTEST little dragon in existence just came to my door.
6:45 pm — Every time I open the door, there’s nobody there. That’s because they shift about 2 feet to the left to look at Duncan, who is sitting in the front window. He’s like our little Halloween WalMart greeter.
6:50 pm — Just got a visit from two university girls from www.TrickorEat.ca — a bunch of university kids out collecting for food banks across Canada. What a great idea! Go to the website and check it out.
6:54 pm — Too many little girls watch High School Musical. Just sayin’.
6:58 pm — A very tiny lion just walked right into my foyer. No doorbell ring, nothing. Just turned the knob and walked in. Hee!
6:59 pm — A sumo wrestler and a fat Elvis. It’s like my best Halloween ever!
7:04 pm — Mental whiplash. A tiny unicorn just came to the door with a skeleton. A little pink princess came to the door with some Insane Clown Posse kinda guy. I confuse.
7:05 pm — I love it when the little ones just come and grab the candy right out of your hand, or better yet, make a bee line for the bowl. No concept of Halloween, “trick or treat” is too abstract, but by doG, they ALL. KNOW. CANDY.
7:10 pm — You can tell we have trick or treaters on the porch, not from the ringing doorbell, but from the chorus of “Oh, lookitthelittleKITTY!” as they see Duncan in the window. BDH told them it’s our dog, dressed up as a cat.
7:12 pm — Mustard! And Ketchup! Just came to our door! It was AWESOME!
7:18 pm — Jack the WonderKid next door just came by. He’s a Ninja Turtle. Kind of. Without the mask or weaponry. And, without much real knowledge of what a Ninja Turtle actually IS. So… a turtle, then. Meh, it works for him.
7:20 pm — Duncan has taken to chatting with the kids he sees walking by.
7:23 pm — The sweetest little Batman (although she is a little girl) just came and tapped on my door (that happens when they’re too little to know what a doorbell does, or to reach it). I think she was more enchanted with the very special glow-in-the-dark scepter she had in her hand. That is, until I asked if Batman likes SMARTIES…
7:26 pm — I get such a kick out of it when kids have NO IDEA what they are. This little fellow, maybe 8 or 9, was dressed as a horror movie murderer. Complete with mask and scythe. And yet? “What are you?” “Um… I don’t know.”
7:30 pm — Maybe a break for a tasty refreshing beverage…?
7:35 pm — SpiderMan just came to my door. And he is TIRED. And he is NOT HAPPY. (Good thing SpiderMan brought his (Spider)Mom to carry him.)
7:39 pm — A break in the action. I can watch a bit of the movie. Already they’re at the “crusty jugglers” bit. Le sigh. Time flies when you are distributing foodstuffs to the masses in a show of altruism, community spirit and goodwill…
7:46 pm — Dude. What’s with all the knights out tonight? Was there some sort of movie with knights and stuff in it and I missed it?
7:47 pm — A very tired lion just came up the steps. “Sigh… trick… or treat… sigh…” But he had a great ROAR.
7:49 pm — I totally SUCK at guessing these costumes. How do you miss Robin Hood? ROBIN HOOD? Okay, so he wasn’t wearing green. Aaaand, it’s dark and I didn’t have glasses on. But still. He’s Robin Freaking Hood.
7:52 pm — 3 packages of Jelly Bellies just came to the door! These girls had wrapped themselves in cellophane filled with coloured balloons. It was AWESOME!
7:54 pm — We’ve had 100 kids so far, exactly. I have 25 bags of sour candies left, so we’ve got enough for just 25 more kids. Then, it’s lights out.
8:00 pm — Well, it’s slowed right down. I think we’re just about done. We’ll wait until the movie is over, but that’ll be it.
8:08 pm — BDH has brought the pumpkins in and turned off the light, and Hot Fuzz is coming to its conclusion, so… that’s Halloween for another night. We’ve had 103 kids, a good number. And mostly all of them were accompanied by an adult and most said thank you, both very pleasant changes from years past. So, that’s it from Halloween Central…
