my toddler-like hissy fit

The weather is getting cold. Yesterday morning the house temperature got down to 15.5 degrees. I was hoping to not put on the furnace, so I boiled the kettle a few times- tea and a hot water bottle- and brought the temperature up over 16 degrees without too much of a problem. I love my gas stove.

But then last night it dipped back down to 15 degrees, and I finally conceded that it was time to turn on the furnace. I reluctantly walked the walk of shame to the thermostat- passing the gas bill sitting on the kitchen table, I winced. I calculated in my head how warm I could set it without feeling guilt, and how many days I could run the thing this month before I surpassed last October's usage... Lesson? I should keep my bills on the kitchen table all the time.

I flicked the little switch and waited for the roar of the furnace igniting.

I waited.
 nothing
A little longer.
 nothing
Turned the switch back to off, then back on again.
 nothing



My pilot light had blown out two summers ago- resulting in my needing to call a repair guy... mostly because I didn't know at the time that my pilot light could blow out. At the time I asked him to show me how to light it in case it happened again. He told me it likely wouldn't- that it must have been quite the gust of wind to have blown down the chimney and put it out. Then he didn't show me. I'm guessing it was more to do with the fact that I had to pay him $130 for the visit.



I'm often told that I'm far too independent. I've even been told I scare men because of my independence... um... thanks? I think that was part compliment? Part "definitely not" a compliment.

In effort to break from that line of thought, and also because I'm sick of having to do everything for myself (waaaaaa! tantrum), I decided to put it out to the universe that I needed help. I asked my facebook friends if anyone knew how to light a pilot light.

What did I get? Mostly a bunch of people telling me to DIY and links to how-to videos. Then a second wave of "you're going to blow up your house" responses.

Dear universe. I ask for help, and I'm told to do it myself.
This is why I'm independent.

The cold eventually conquered any fears I had of lighting the gas heater back up, and after I got it lit I saw that two women had offered their husbands' assistance, which was very kind of them. I'll admit, there was a certain rush that I got when I finally figured out where the pilot was, got it lit, AND got the circulation pump turned back on (apparently I'd knocked it sometime over the summer too). When the furnace roared to life and the rads got hot... I felt smug. I felt smart. I felt independent.
Watch out boys.

More ewwww.

Ok, that's it... I have to bite the bullet and clean the fridge.

I walked into the house tonight and was hit by two powerful odours... the first... well, what ever that is that I've forgotten in my fridge for the past 4 weeks. The second? 11 hours of wearing the same boots.

gross.

Wish me luck, if it goes well I plan on sewing some of the basement wall curtains tonight. 

90's

I just scared myself to death.
Really, I might be dead right now... my mind just hasn't caught up.

My mom sewed quite a bit when I was growing up.
At one point in the late 80's early 90's she started making me shorts and best of all, short overalls.
This was when it was really cool to wear boxer style shorts. Seriously. It was cool then.

Glow in the dark frog shorts.
Glow in the dark cow short overalls.
Glow in the dark pig short overalls.
Blue striped shorts.

Honestly. As parents, why didn't they stop us? These things looked terrible.

Anyway, there was always lots of leftover fabric in our house and mom would put it to use, or have us kids put it to use in some craft. One of the genius things she did was make aprons. I still have a bin of her stash that I dip into from time to time.

Fast forward to bedtime tonight.
I place the pile of folded (but not put away) laundry on my dresser. Lights get turned off. I turn to hop up on my bed (it's tall)... and I yelp.

There's a weird globby green ghost on my dresser.

Yup. I've still got one of those glow in the dark (cow) aprons.

Because you never know when you'll be cooking in the dark.

oh. crap.

guess what?
I'm sitting here watching Buffy (Vampire Slayer) and knitting (of course)... and I just realized something.
Something that makes me a little uncomfortable.
Ok.... more than a little uncomfortable...

I'm more attracted to Giles these days than I am to Xander.

When did I get so old?

stumbling

Inspired by my friend BethSheff, I'm taking on the basement... I went down there this morning armed with a recycling bag, a box for garbage and a few boxes for the local second hand store.

I didn't come back up for hours.

And when I did... things were worse than when I started.
The house is... um.... *sigh*

Let's just say that if my mother wasn't already dead, she'd have had a heart attack and died from the piles of random things. I've mentioned before how I'm an "Outie" organizer raised by "Innie" parents, right?  Their version of storage was "everything has a place, and everything in it's place".... my version is "I know which pile it's in".

I'm slowly learning that neither method is right... it's ok to be either way... there are good sides to each of the systems... it's the Catholic guilt that I deal with for having things in sight that really does me in....

Anyway... I've emptied more than half the boxes (those which were never unpacked after the move) into garbage/recycle/reuse piles... the things I've found!!! Seriously. AMAZING.

I've found a smoke detector... the one that started beeping 4 months ago.
My Social Security card... I didn't know it was missing!
Countless bottles of shampoo... all half used... weird.
So MANY binders.
(one of them was even my music binder from 1997) (hello "Lifeline" music team!)

Some of the things I've been bringing up and leaving where I'll see them- so I'll deal with them right away... um. except that the dog keeps tripping on them.

I'm not kidding... she fell into a mixing bowl tonight. It comes up to her knees... it's not small. It's in the middle of the floor... um. beside the spinning wheel. um... beside the autoharp.

On monday she ran into a wall. She didn't cut her eye this time... but she did bruise it... I think she's lost most of her vision now in the left eye.

Hence falling INTO the mixing bowl.

I borrowed these snazzy Doggles to help protect her eyes... except her head is too big for them... Bubble wrap is the next option.

25 things revisited part 3

Ha... this project is always so fun to do... I think I need to make it a yearly activity....

11. I like to eat hickory sticks one by one.

12. I'm overly self conscious and aware of other people's reactions face to face. I notice the slightest  changes in their mood and body language. I could probably do really well as a con artist or help in hostage situations.

13. I'm so afraid of junebugs and earwigs, the thought of them makes me want to vomit.

14. I vomit when I'm anxious. Or overtired.

15. Also when I'm anxious, or stressed- I geta case of the hicups. They're a great gauge for me as to how I'm doing on any given day. I had hiccups for most of grade 9, Father Brian (Catholic High School) would send me out of the class nearly every afternoon till I had them under control... I hiccup a a single hiccup least once every other day (this is new, it used to be once a day) but I've been known to get a full blown case 4 or more times in a day. I've had 1 case today (so far).

Get me a Sous Chef

Most days, bring me the gourmet.

Bring me the cheddar more aged than your first born daughter.

Delicate flavours, beautiful presentations, locally grown, ethically treated.

Then there are days when only a can of ravioli will suffice.... and if I'm disappointed to find only no-name brand, I'll wash the sauce off and just eat the noodles... because I'm classy like that.

hooooooooooouuuse

ok,

so thank you for baring with me over the past little while as I've swung thru moods like Tarzan thru the jungle. the rants about a house and peer groups and puppies and ovaries and the like... it's mostly been because of the crazy ride getting to this point... after a few false starts over the past few months...

and now that the sign is up on the lawn... I can truly say... I bought a house!

(ok so facebook land and anyone near BethSheff has known for awhile)

and it only took me three years of saying "I'm buying a house"

one year of looking seriously

and four months of offers on things that just didn't pan out.


I went to my real estate agent back in April and gave him my list of "wants" (which he kind of laughed at, I was pretty particular)... and a few weeks ago we got to the point where he tried to talk me into a condo just so I'd stop wasting money on rent...


and then we found it. (Best year ever)

and, not to trump the news, but ... (um, if you're a relative and you're just hearing this for the first time.. um... don't worry, you're getting a phone call)

Dad and Gale got married today! Welcome to the family Gale :)

instead of sleeping

So, I'm sitting half heartedly watching tv, mostly just playing online. Reading blogs, checking facebook photos... the usual.

Then it hits me.

(be forewarned... I'm about to swear)

"Shit. I'm old"

Here's what's happened.... I'm cruising thru some photos from high school friends... and I start to notice something... my friends look like they are in their 30's. 

Then I remember... it's because they are.

See that guy? He looks like.... gulp.... a man.

My friends are MEN? My friends are looking suspiciously like their parents?

We're.... aging? 

I don't think I can handle this.

No... really....

I'm sitting in a mild state of shock.

With maybe a little throw up in my mouth.

"the big smoke"

now... I didn't mean that.

(that's a link above)

Plans for an afternoon of Mojitos and Hot Tubbing are still in the works, we've just got to plot out an alternate route- the 401 is closed.

one track mind

Ok, sometimes... I don't pay attention to what's going on around me while I'm doing something... I mean, I'm attentive- I'm just not good with details while I'm getting something done... Because I'm pretty focused on finishing it.

Case in point this evening::

I'm pretty sure the roommate is going to kick me out.

I started to shred paper for one of the worm bins. (Yes, I said bins... remember when I started one? and then the one turned into four? and now it's five?) Anyway, I'd just gotten a bucket of compost for one of the bins. I haven't been home much in the past two weeks, so the amount of organic matter (OM) has been minimal- and this new bin eats A LOT. So, I'd gotten a pile of compost, and I wanted to cover it with some extra shredded paper to cut down on the likelihood of fruit flies- So I started shredding and I had the bin in the kitchen with me so I could add water to the paper and pop it into the bin.

So that's what I did.

And then I realized that WHILE I'd been shredding, my roommate, whom I'd been chatting with while I worked, was making her sandwich- on the counter beside the bin.

The OPEN worm bin.

You know... the worm bin full of WORMS.

And WORM POO.

And I'd just plopped it there beside her sandwich and was working away, oblivious to the suddenly cold looks coming my way.

'Cause I'm a little slow that way.

For the record:: I noticed my error and was horrified by my own actions. 

Also for the record:: I always wipe the counter with disinfectant afterwards... so you can still come eat at my house.

Lost in the Dark

I was going to write a post... but T.Lam wrote it for me.

Last night I knew I needed to spend some time sitting... and I knew if I didn't leave my house to sit... well, I wasn't going to sit.
So, instead I went to the movies.

The good news is that unpacking is going fairly well. I can nearly walk to my underwear drawer.

all that junk inside your trunk

when I was touring with Watoto, each night had us in a new home... you never really knew what it was going to be like until you arrived, BUT... generally you could get an idea by looking at their car. Not so much what type of car they were driving (well, no, that's not true, Canadians were well reflected by their choice of vehicle, Americans... not so much.... not at all) but more by what was in their car, or... what condition their car was in.
Tonight I was clearing some of the stuff from my car. And while I did, I wondered how people would classify me, or what impression they'd have of me by the contents of my little sunfire...

Tonight included, but wasn't limited to:: three pairs of high heels, one board game, eight pairs of socks (mostly pirate themed) a crock pot, a kitchen aid mixer, one (size small) goat skin East African drum, a winter coat, a lawn chair, festival blanket, library books, sleeping bag, rocking chair, cast iron pan, a pair of barn boots, swimming gear, gym bag, meeting minutes, and two empty coffee cups.

What's in your car?

dino-sore

The Metro Toronto Zoo has this dino exhibit going on right now, I didn't know about it, as things like that sort of miss my radar...
"Dinosaurs Alive" is it's title, and ... well.. it was really cool.
The exhibit is set up in a large tent-like building, near the kid's area with the petting zoo and water pad, there's a spot to line up (assuming you actually go to the zoo during prime time and have to line up? Who does that?). There are signs as you're going in, "warning, dinosaurs are life like and the movement and noise may scare young children". I laughed at the signs..... but..
Heck.. I was a little unnerved at one point!
So, the building/tent thingy is set up so you walk into it blind to the rest of the room, there's one Dino, then a small hallway that leads straight to an exit, or, you round the bend and enter into the main room.
SMART thinking! Of the four families that entered with us, three had to walk straight to the exit, their children, who on the way in had been chattering about the Dino's and how much they loved them and yadda yadda yadda- were screaming and crying in fear.
It took me probably 3 to 4 minutes to convince the guys I'd brought that the dinosaurs weren't real.. and that... no, they weren't trying to eat them, no they weren't alive, no they don't have to feed them anything, yes, they were robots, NO they didn't need cages, No, they weren't going to be chased, no, they really were safe.... NO... they aren't REALLY alive.. honestly, that was the conversation, over and over... It was hard for them to grasp it.
After all, a zoo is filled with live animals, and the sign said "dinosaurs ALIVE"...

So, a room filled with true to life sized latex? motorized dinosaurs... growling, screeching, dipping, clawing, tail swinging... I was ok till I noticed the T-Rex high above me, leaning in, about to bite my body in half...