Monday, September 22, 2014

Violation or just... weird?

A few nights ago my truck was broken into.

It's the 4th time it's happened, but it's the first time since I bought my house. At the last rental I was on a street that was quite busy with foot traffic, perfect for car break-ins. I don't lock my car, I don't want to pay the deductible if the windows are broken. I know... it's like I'm asking for trouble, but I don't leave anything of value in there.

The feeling of violation that comes from knowing that someone has entered your space uninvited, is one that gnaws quietly at you. An unease. I try to ignore it as much as I can... me being the um.. independent strong woman that I am.

And again like in the past break-ins, I'm kind of insulted. Nothing was taken. I think I've noted before, "thieves don't like folk music". What's wrong with my taste in music?! If they hadn't left open that secret compartment (the one I didn't know about) I probably would have chalked up the random reorganization of stuff to me losing my mind.

It's days later, I've finally opened the back of the truck. I'd glanced back there after the break-in, noted that the person hadn't taken my dirty socks or the blankets and camping dishes that have been living back there since the festival.. but I didn't bother to open it up and poke around.
I bought groceries today though, and opened the back door.... and found a pair of boxer briefs.

This is more disturbing than the break-in.

Sunday, September 21, 2014

Books books books.

ok... nominated for the book thing... I don't usually do nominated games, I'm a spoil sport. BUT I do like books, and I think I was nominated like 5 times for this.  10 most influential books (or books that have stuck with me for forever)

1)  Haroun and the Sea of Stories -Salman Rushdie * Jeepers, I love that book. Go read it. Read it to your entire family. I made my roommates in university (a bunch of boys) sit and listen to me read it to them out loud. See if you can figure out how it ties into

2) The BFG- Roald Dahl  *I love books that are real made up stories. I love that all of Roald's books took me someplace and made me laugh... and still make me laugh and see with new eyes.

3) Clan of the Cave Bear/Valley of Horses Jean M. Auel * I read Valley of Horses before I read clan of the cave bear... The lead character Ayla has since then been in my mind as the perfect woman role model. I read it when I was in my early teens (oops, my parents forgot there was a lot of sex in that series) and I figured that to be a real strong independent woman, I should probably learn how to do most of the things Ayla did while she lived in that little cave by herself.

4) I heard the Owl Call My Name- Margaret Craven * This is my favourite book. Full stop. Read it, then let's talk about it.

5) Watership Down - Richard Adams *This one and the next book were read to me a few times by my dad as I was growing up. I loved the rumble of his voice while my sister and I would lean on him to hear the story. Plus I think this is where I first really started to love rabbits. And geeky things like made up languages.

6) The Hobbit- J R R Tolkien * see above... but insert the word "hobbits" to replace "rabbits".

7)The secret Garden- Francis Burnett *just a great story that I always come back to read, because for me, it's about a story.

8)The princess Bride- William Goldman/ S Morganstern * DID YOU KNOW THIS IS FUNNIER THAN THE MOVIE??? Read it, let's talk.

9) Foxfire series- Editor Eliot Wigginton * oh man. why wasn't I born in the Appalachian mountains? This was my bible for learning everything I needed to know to live in a small cave of my own someday.

10)The Island of the Blue Dolphins- Scott O'Dell *again, it's all about books with those young women learning amazing things and taking care of themselves. I got this book for Christmas when I was in grade 6, I was so pumped when it was on the reading list for grade 7... don't ask me how many times I've read it since... it's embarrassing.

Friday, August 22, 2014

Call backs

I have this problem at work.

Each and every time I work a day shift, if I go to the washroom, well, the phone rings, and usually it's an important call.

Taking phones to the washroom is gross.

Ok, I totally do have my cell on me when I go at work- it grosses me out but it doesn't stop me. It's the only minute I'll have to look at messages uninterrupted when I work an evening shift. So the last month and a half I've been keeping track of how often the phone rings when I go to the washroom... 8 of the last 10 visits.

80%

I've also been keeping track of how many shifts in a row my coworker says the word "breakfurst". I had to start my count over because we had a single shift where she didn't say it... after 34 shifts in a row. I'M NOT EVEN KIDDING. But that's not the topic today. Maybe I should also keep track of how many times it's said on a shift? Maybe I should count how many other facts I'm keeping track of?

80% of the times I've gone to the washroom while working a day shift this month, someone has called. I decided to fight back.

I put both the work phones in my pocket with my cellphone when I took my trip to the facilities and the phones didn't ring.

Someone came to the door.

Note: visits to the door are a rare occurrence.  Lately we've been having a number of deliveries from a new company that employs a very handsome young man. I've requested that all deliveries be scheduled for my shifts.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

Sweater weather

There are some sweet young women in my life that I am blessed to know. Each one is quirky, artsy, creative, smart, and kind.

Oh, and drop dead gorgeous.

The three of them are headed off to school in just one week. There is a flip flopping tidal wave of emotion and hormones that those girls are riding as two are headed to opposite ends of our giant country (and leaving eachother/their first love) and one returns for her final term.

These girls are also very silly and can make me snort in my laughter with them... at them. One tonight was trying to show us her "jazz hands"... but she has as problem getting the one hand to cooperate. .. so it's like a jazz hand. Or... nemo.  Really, that left hand is just waving goodbye.

It's muggy gross out. At work I wear layers to fight the air conditioning.  Today I chose a rather unfortunate see-through shirt under my sweater... I took off my sweater after one of the girls said the house was too cold with the a.c. running, it was on to get the humidity out of the house, it wasn't that hot, just so damp and gross. It meant I was in my see through shirt, but I really didn't care and, whatever.

Ruebendog was having a hard time getting settled. So much whining. 
So I brought him up on my lap for a squishing. It didn't work. I just got steamrolled. And covered in fur.

"But at least your shirt isn't so see-through".

*insert eyeroll here*

Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Bunday June 2007- July 22, 2014

There once was a sweet old man bunny who lived his final days out in a tiny house. A house bunny unlike most, this rodent of unusual size frightened grown men and sent them running in terror- not that a bunny is a rodent, but "Lagomorph of unusual size" doesn't roll off the tongue in quite the same way.

This bun wasn't a mean bun, he never bit a human or a dog or a cat ... and never once chewed a power cable. He was happy to lay at your feet, waiting for you to lean over and give his ears a rub, or sit in a window sill watching the world go by. He would do anything for a piece of banana or a grape.He loved to steal scraps of fabric while his person sewed, or would run off with a ball of wool in his mouth while his person knit. He had patience enough to train two dogs to become his friend... one old lady dog and one psychotically bouncy puppy dog, and was clear to announce when he felt they were well trained (taking a year for each) by jumping over the baby gate that kept them apart.

This sweet old man bunny was named after the bunny in the book "chocolat",  lived for 7 years, grew to 21lbs and 3 feet long. He shed enough that his person friend could have spun wool enough for several sweaters. He needed a litter tray the size of an under-the-bed storage container and wore size medium dog clothes...

not that his owner ever dressed him up.

much.




“My heart has joined the Thousand, for my friend stopped running today.” ― Richard AdamsWatership Down


Pontouff Pony

For more random bunny adventures over the years, click on this link:  Monday Bunday 

Tuesday, July 22, 2014

Witness to a crime

I love a late night walk.
I've seen the entirety of town beneath the streetlights.
Friends from less safe cities shudder at the thought of walking the streets after midnight. They worry.
A few weeks ago, not too late...  I was walking the town, bratty dog at my side,  when I was witness to a crime.
Sort of.
Standing outside the store was a young man in a hoodie. Hoodie up, face covered by shadows, smoking. He threw the butt on the ground, glanced over his shoulder and scurried in the shop door. It was weird. Nearly midnight on a friday. There were no cleaning vans parked nearby.
I looked closer, there were more figures lurking about in the store's shadows!
I slowed our pace. I didn't know what to do... do I call the cops? Do I call one of the store's employees? I tried to take a closer look.
There was something.. off. I mean, I try not to categorize people, I try not to think in terms of stereotypes... but one of the guys looked suspiciously like the guy from the computer store... and one looked like the guy from a rival trivia team who works at a local internet provider... one was drinking a bottle of pop. These guys were more geek than hoodlum.
But why were they lurking around in the dark in a bookstore?
I watched for a little while and decided that they probably weren't stealing things, or at least they weren't causing damage.
The next morning I mentioned what I'd seen to one of the store's employees.
Did you know there's Dungeons and Dragons group that meets on friday nights at the bookstore?
*edit to add: or maybe it's "magic, the gathering" *  

Friday, July 18, 2014

And she's up!

Well, I can show my face in public again. Today I finally got the hammock up. And... in the weird way that my world turns, things worked out perfectly.

Yes the first post, the one I broke, was in the "perfect spot" for a post, but once the new one was in the ground I realized that I'd avoided a pretty huge and equally humiliating error. The new post is another 6 inches back from the tree, behind the first post hole- with a few inches of clearance for the trailer to pass it on it's way through the backyard to it's parking space.

I hung the hammock from the chains on either end of it's neatly tied ropes. It's a huge hammock... part of the issue was trying to find a big enough space to put the freaking thing... I watched it swaying gently, high off the ground, surprised again at how big the hammock was, then slid myself onto it...

And sat on the ground.

Yup.

Brand-spanking-new hammock has a lot of stretch to it's unused ropes.

Not to fear though, all was not lost! I just had to hang the hammock on the first ring rather than on one of the chain links. BUT.
If that first post hadn't broken, the distance between the tree and post would have been just slightly too close, and no amount of adjustments would have made that hammock swing freely. I'd be napping on the ground.

Yay for stupid mistakes!

*Now it hangs at dog-nose-height... this makes Ruebendog very very happy. I napped and he brought me little twigs, his toys and pieces of bark from his current favourite log... all things that he deposited on me while I slept.

Monday, July 14, 2014

"Handy"

I'll just say it wasn't my finest hour.

Last summer my big project was to build the new fence and gate and tear down the old one. True, I have to rebuild a portion of the fence... but I was pretty proud of what I did.

I thought ahead too. When I tore down the old fence I was able to save two fence posts to use for other projects... like, to fix another portion of fence. The posts were in great shape. One post went to the dump, it was kinda crappy and cracked after a decade of being a fence.

My goals this summer include the two repairs mentioned, a little back deck, and a hammock.

I want a frickin hammock.

Unfortunately I don't have trees the right distance apart, and while I've purchased myself the perfect hammock, I've either got to cough up the cash for a stand (nope) or, I can install a single post the right distance from a tree. If I do it right I can build a fold down table off the post to use by the campfire too.

So yesterday I bought myself some quick set cement, dug the hole, measured the post, cut the post, placed it, poured the cement, tried to jiggle the post to help get rid of bubbles.... and broke the post.

Broke the post in the quick dry cement.

Because I threw out the wrong post.

Every time I've stepped in the backyard (or even just thought about the backyard) since, well.. there's been a lot of swearing and stomping.

I've just dealt with the problem.
"Fixed it".

I had to dig down around the post enough that I could fit my hand saw below the soil level, but not disturb too much soil because I have to dig a new hole (for a brand new post) not too far from the original perfect post hole space, because.... well... it was perfect. Not to close to the berry garden, not too close to the campfire, not blocking the trailer's parking space, shade for most of the day.

I'm still swearing.

There's no photo evidence, it was too embarrassing.

Wednesday, July 09, 2014

Bad wolf

Know when you just need a really good cry? Not for any one reason in particular,  maybe a run in with an old acquaintance or an off hand comment or an embarrassing encounter with someone you're interested in... in addition to the regular weight of life.

I've got a few tricks up my sleeve to bring on a good sob session. The sure fire way? (Get ready to geek out) Watching one of the two episodes of Dr Who that end in heartbreak on Darlig Ulv-Stranden.  The first one is where the Doctor says goodbye to Rose (for the first time), and the other episode is where he says goodbye (again) to Rose... and then leaves Donna with her family...
oh my nerves.
I weep openly every time.

So tonight I needed to drop the things I was carrying in my mind so I put on that second goodbye episode.
And right as soon as I was welling up, letting go... the dog went coo-coo-bananas. I'm talking sonic crazy.

It took me a good fourty five minutes to get him to chill out, and this was after we'd just gotten back from a long (embarrassing) walk. I still have no idea what his problem was, but he very nearly got himself rehomed tonight.

The show isn't nearly as sad when you watch it in short bits punctuated by a barking and spinning dog.

Monday, July 07, 2014

It happened more than once

March 20th

A late thursday confessional: one year for the pie off I didn't even bother to bake a pie .. I just played up the smack-talk and led people on with a gazillion pie posts on pintrest. It was awesome.