Tuesday, June 22, 2010


I was never under the delusion that my children were perfect but I did believe them to be fairly well behaved, respectful children.  Now that they are grown up, far from home, and feeling safe from any parental retribution, I am hearing stories from them that make me shake my head and sigh but most times laugh (which is not what I would have done at the time).

While talking the other day, Adam revealed to me that he had had little respect for his grade twelve english teacher. This was not news.  I remember him complaining about her lack of knowledge. "Mom" he had said to me "she doesn't even know the difference between a metaphor and a simile."

Disclaimer:  I will be using a word that some might find offensive so stop reading here if you are easily offended. 

So here's what went down many years ago in Adam's grade twelve english class.

Teacher: "Does anyone know the the name of the literary term used by authors to hint at what is to come later in the story?"


Teacher:"Nobody knows?

Adam calling out from the back of the class: "Foreskin."

Teacher: "What? Did I hear something?"

Adam louder this time: "Foreskin"

The teacher turns to the board and starts writing: "That's right, foreshadowing."

I am still laughing.

Monday, June 21, 2010


On Friday I mowed the lawn.  This is a rare occurrence as it is generally done by Ian but since he had been away for a couple of weeks and the grass was getting long, I figured I should help out.  Part way through the chore, Matthew and Kere arrived with the kids.  Matthew took over for me so that I could go 'play' with the grandkids.  Kere had never used a riding lawnmower so she decided to go out and have a go at it too so between the three of us, the job was done by the time Ian got home that night.

On Saturday I went into town to do some shopping and came home to find Ian...wait for it... mowing the lawn!   Had he not realized it had been done just the day before?   I began to laugh as soon as I realized that he was straightening the 'cut lines'.   I rolled down the window of the car and called out "That's what  I love about you."

There's more that I love about him too.

  • I never have to pick up after him, ever, not dishes. not clothes, not paper.
  • He keeps the cars filled with gas, windshield washer fluid, and oil.
  • He is always even tempered.
  • He thinks the best of others.
  • He has a generous heart.
  • He has a great sense of humour even though it may not be evident at first.
  • He has been the best dad to our kids.

There's a lot more and that list is so obviously not in order.   I feel like the luckiest woman alive to have him in my life and I often wonder how I managed to snag him for myself.  

As I was preparing a special Father's Day dinner, Ian walked past the kitchen, looked at my mess, smiled and said "That's what I love about you."

Friday, June 18, 2010


I couldn't imagine life without my friends. I have made some great ones over the years. They have enriched, and in some cases changed my life. 

There is the first new friend I made as a young adult.  We smoked lilac leaves once because we thought they smelled like marijuana when they burned. Don't ask me how I knew what marijuana smelled like. It was the 70's, enough said. (We did not get high but we did get headaches.) We drove around in her Toyota until it met it's untimely end when we ignored the red add oil warning light.  Who knew that failure to do so could actually seize an engine? Not us.  I have never been sillier with anyone and I could write a book about our many adventures.   She is the one of the most creative people I have ever met.  I stand in awe of her talents. 

There's the friend who taught me how to cook, bake, cross stitch, and sew, and helped make me the domestic goddess I am today (no comments from the peanut gallery). She's the same friend who also taught my son to say the  S H word when he was two. Well she didn't "teach" it to him, he picked it up by osmosis.  She loves my kids almost as much as I do and to this day they call her "auntie". 

There's the friend who coerced me into making fun of her husband's recent vasectomy by popping over on a night she was entertaining a group of friends to read a poem I'd written in his honour and to invite them to join the "Clip It" club.
"V is for vasectomy , that is what you had."
"A is for the agony, boy did it feel bad."
That's all I can remember. (Nobody laughed)  I guess they didn't think it was all that funny.  I did but then again, this same friend and I laughed all the way through The English Patient.

There's the friend I see only rarely because of the large distance between our homes but oh how I look forward to our yearly lunch date.  I honed my cheating skills at Uno and Trivial Pursuit long ago when we were all poor and she and her husband spent many a night hanging out at our place for cheap entertainment.  

I count you as a true friend if we have

  • laughed so hard we've cried.
  • taken part in some quasi illicit activity (like stealing a Dashboard Confessional poster out of a bathroom stall in the House of Blues).  Who carries a screwdriver in their purse anyway?
  • pulled a prank or two together.
  • pulled an all nighter (talking not drinking).
So thanks for the memories friends.  Let's make some more!

Thursday, June 17, 2010


He was the one that could talk me into doing the most ridiculous things.
(Matthew to me skiing on the bunny hill with the little kids on a school trip): "Mom you are totally ready for the big run"

"I don't know Matthew... I think it's best if I just stay here."

"Mom, the hardest part is getting on and off the ski lift.  I've been watching you, I know you can do it."

"You think so?"  

"Yep, I'll talk you down."

I should mention at this point that he was only eight or nine at the time and that his idea of skiing was bombing down the hill at a breakneck speed.  I will also mention to those who have never skied before that getting on and off the ski lift is not the hardest part of skiing, stopping is.
I got about halfway down the hill, realized that I was going way too fast, tried to stop, couldn't, so decided to drop and roll (works for fires).  I rolled and slid and slid and rolled and finally came to a stop just below the lift.
 "Hi Mrs. J" called the giggling kids passing above me.
I got up and made my way to the chalet for a hot chocolate to celebrate the fact that a). I was still alive and b). I had suffered no major injury.

As I made my way to the counter, a hush descended on the lunchtime crowd and I could feel eyes following me.  I spotted my reflection in the window and saw that not only had my wool sweater collected huge snowballs as I had slid down the hill but my hair was snow caked and sticking out at all angles.   

Matthew is all grown up now and has a family of his own.  He has matured and no longer encourages or dares me to take risks.  I miss our adventures.

This is my most recent picture of him and is a huge hint in reference to my last post.  : )

Wednesday, June 16, 2010


We arrived home on Sunday afternoon after being away after almost a week only to be greeted by a certain son who shall remain nameless (because he's even more private than his father).   Practically the first words out of his mouth were... "Hey Dad, you really should be monitoring mom's blog."

Of course right away Ian wanted to know just what I had been writing about. 

"Um...  just about how you thought those mirrors went on the floor."

"It was the way you described it."

"uh huh, you're right."

I was hoping that by agreeing, the conversation would end quickly and it would be forgotten.  

It seems I not only have just a mouse problem but a "rat" problem as well.

Thursday, June 10, 2010


My husband is a constant source of amusement to me.  He doesn't mean to be funny, he just is.  He wouldn't be so funny if he just asked a straight up question but he always tacks something on the end that makes me laugh hysterically which does not impress him, which makes it all the funnier.  

Ian (reading my facebook page over my shoulder): "What does lol mean?... lots of love?"  

Tonight we were in a home furnishing store and he spotted some huge mirrors and by huge I mean huge.

Ian: "Look at the size of those mirrors."

Me: "Those are the kind that sit on the floor."

Ian: "What?... really?... you put them on the floor and walk on them?  (This was asked in all seriousness).

Me (trying to contain my laughter): "No, you just don't hang them up, you rest them against the wall."

Right now, his back is turned to me and I am plugging my nose so he can't hear me snickering.

Sunday, June 6, 2010


That friend of mine was right.. the one that pointed out that there is always more than just one mouse. 

Yes, a whole punk gang was making themselves quite at home in my pantry.  They were getting the best of me too, eating chocolate chips, pasta noodles, and fine Belgian chocolate to their hearts' content.  They were having a grand old time being all rowdy, stealing the bait and setting off my traps.  They were having a great time at my expense.  Sure I managed to catch one a few weeks ago but I realized later that it was the stupid fat one of the bunch.  He probably drew the short straw when they came across my new state of the art traps.   I'll have to hand it to them, none of them were silly enough to get caught by another one afterwards.  I was smug.  "Ha" I thought "I'll have to tell Ange there was only one."   I never saw another sign of the mice after catching the one.  I really thought I had taken care of the problem.  Then one night as I watching a movie, one came out to taunt me.  He stopped, looked right at me as if to say "Yeah that's right lady, me and my gang eat your food, poop where we want and there's nothing you can do about it."  I could see his courage waiver a bit when his revelation didn't elicit the reaction he thought it would.  No scream escaped my lips, my feet stayed firmly in place and I could see his panic rise when I narrowed my eyes.  He didn't know who he was messing with.

The challenge was on and even though I think it inhumane, the very next day I purchased 4 glue traps.  As of today, there are three less mice in the house. 

Sorry little mice but what you didn't realize is that I was once the mother to four teenage boys, that's right, four.  I thrive on challenge.