MORNING HAS BROKEN

Matthew, Kere, and the kids stayed over last night.  I love it when they do except for the whole kids getting up at the crack of dawn thing.   William's bedroom is just above ours so I can usually hear his little feet running across the hardwood floor first thing in the morning.  He only weighs about thirty five pounds but it sounds as though there is a whole herd of elephants trampling around up there.  Well maybe it's not that bad but at 6:15 in the morning it sounds pretty similar.

This morning I did not hear a peep.  Ian the sweetheart that he is (and morning person too I might add), took William downstairs and fed him breakfast in the family room (a rare treat).   I made my way downstairs at about 8:30 to find them watching a movie together.
"It took me half an hour to figure out how to put this flipping movie on."  Ian complained.   Kere and I broke out into fits of laughter.   He was still complaining about it hours later as if it were my fault that he found it so difficult to put in a movie.

Oh how I love my technotard.

THE HANDYMAN CAN

I am the handyman in the house.  There is a reason for this.  We discovered early in our marriage that I was just more adept at that kind of thing.  If something came unassembled and with more than a page of instructions it was given to me to put together.

                                                                    

Of late, Ian has taken more of an interest in these things therefore I felt pretty comfortable in letting him handle the yearly changing of our water filter.  The filter is located in a dark corner of the crawl 

space in our basement right next to the water pump (we are on well water).  I carefully went through the instructions including clearly informing him that he would need to shut the water off to the filter.  He disappeared for a while and came back quite proud of himself.  He had successfully changed the filter.  I was proud of him too.

 Last week, he informed me that it was time to change the filter (the OCD in him makes him mark it on the calendar).  I was going to remind him that he had done it quite successfully the last time and maybe we should flip for it but decided it would be easier to just go and do the job.  I made my way to the filter and it was then that I discovered that a whole year before, Ian had forgotten to turn the water to the filter back on.  Yes, there is a reason I am the handyman.

WHAT ARE THE CHANCES?

In my last post I added some pictures to illustrate various types of mullet hairstyles.  I just googled some images of mullets and chose a few that I felt best represented the style.   Amazingly, I picked an image of a young man sporting a skullet that some friends actually know.   The crazy thing is, this young man hails from Ian's home town of Dunedin, New Zealand.  What are the chances?   According to Kere it's 50/50.  Her reasoning?  Dunedin is the mullet capital  of the world.  I was under the impression that North Bay is.

I STAND CORRECTED

It appears I may have offended a few people with a mention in a previous post about mullets.  I did not realize that some men sport a mullet for a legitimate reason.  If you play a certain cold weather sport you may refer to your mullet as "hockey hair."  Apparently the "party in the back" is really meant to keep the neck warm.  I didn't know.  But if this really is the case, why do I see so many in the summer?

I have discovered that there are variations to the mullet/hockey hair.

The Skullet 

(self explanatory)

and....

The Frullet

 (curly hair mullet)

and....

The Femullet

 (apparently you can't buy this)

and finally....

The Chullet 

(should I call Children's Aid?)

The scary thing?  I saw an example of each just this weekend.  Gotta love the north!

THE EARLY BIRD...

Last week we went to Florida with some friends.  The week didn't start off the greatest when I suffered the worst migraine I have ever had.  As soon as we got to the resort after arriving, I laid on the bed, clothes and all and slept until the next morning, well almost morning.  I awoke at five thirty to the sound of Ian's voice asking me if I was awake.  Apparently because he was awake he felt I should be too, after all I had gone to bed hours earlier than he had.  I think I just mumbled "mmmm mmmm" and rolled over to try and sleep a little longer.  He informed me that he couldn't sleep so he was going to the front desk (in another building) to pick up an ethernet cable for the internet.   He got the cable and came back only to find that his electronic key would not open the door.  Not wanting to walk all the way back to get it reactivated, Ian decided he would just knock on the door and wake one of us up.  He knocked and he knocked and he knocked and he knocked until someone finally opened the door.  Apparently because Ian was awake he felt everybody in room 602 of building E should be too.  We were in building F.

YOU BE THE JUDGE

Last weekend I attended a bridal shower for my soon to be daughter in law (it was fun even though my team didn't win the prize for best toilet paper wedding dress).   The young ladies hosting the party asked us to write down a short piece of marital advice for Emily on heart shaped construction paper attached to pipe cleaner, they would then make it into a little bouquet  which they would give Emily to keep.  After writing down my advice I handed it in along with the the rest of the 'hearts' made at my table.  It was only after I handed it in that the panic struck.  What I had written was really just meant for Emily and was not meant to be shared at an event that included some young girls.  I quickly called Emily over and explained to her that if they asked her to read them out, she should either skip mine or just read out the first part.  The problem with that plan was, I hadn't signed my name.

As my luck would have it, they called Emily up to read the advice to everyone present.  She got to mine and started reading it out.  She looked over at me and I shook my head no... vigorously, I might add.  She smiled sweetly and proceeded to read the rest out. 

I will give Emily the benefit of the doubt and assume that when I shook my head no she understood it to mean "no, that one is not mine".  Yes, I am sure that is what happened...right? .... Emily?

If you really want to know what I wrote (it wasn't all that bad) you will have to leave a comment and I will reply privately.

SIGN ME UP

We've all had them... you know... days when you are feeling less than attractive.  Maybe you have PMS and are feeling a little bloated and Mount Vesuvius has erupted on your forehead or chin or nose.  Maybe you've put on a few pounds recently and even your 'fat' clothes are feeling tight. Regardless of the reason, whenever I am feeling that way, I make a trip into the huge metropolis of  North Bay.  (Remember I live in a rural town.)
Today I saw:

• a man in his seventies wearing teenage board shorts with suspenders.  The look was finished off with white socks and sandals.
• an older couple wearing the exact same outfit, khaki pants and vests over bright orange t-shirts topped with matching fishing hats.  They were even wearing the same sandals.  It was strangely disturbing to see how closely they resembled one another.  
• a woman standing outside of the hairdressers, black cape draped over her shoulders, perm rods in her hair covered with a plastic cap.  She was having a cigarette.
• an assortment of mullets.  Really people we're not just in a whole new decade, we're in a whole new century, get with the times.
• greasy hair on about a third of the people I came in contact with.  Apparently showering is optional here.

I came home feeling rather ravishing.  Canada's Next Top Model, sign me up!

*There is a down side to this.  I think I am much better looking than I actually am.  This is made painfully evident to me whenever I travel any further south than Huntsville.

SUGAR AND SPICE

She's not even born yet and already I know she will be beautiful.  Just look at all her girl cousins, it's in the genes I tell ya!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

I have been having a difficult time trying to upload photos onto my blog from my computer. Apparently, blogger does not care for macs.  It has been terribly annoying and has put me off posting anything.  It just doesn't seem right to blog without an accompanying picture, call me weird.   Anyway... I have figured out a way around the problem and will hopefully be more diligent at posting regularly.

Today we celebrated our son-in-law's birthday.  He's goofy and kind of goofy looking too but we love him (despite what he and Kere say) and we love that he is a part of our family.   Happy Birthday Ben!

And now you understand why pictures are so important!

THE TALE OF THREE BAD MICE

When my children were young I would read them 'The Tale of Two Bad Mice' by Beatrix Potter.  They loved the story of Hunca Munca (weirdest character's name I have ever come across), and Tom Thumb, two little mice that were quite naughty, marauding through a little girl's dollhouse.  I imagine that Miss Potter  was writing from her own experience (as all good authors do).

I also have aspirations to become a children's author (not really) and I have inspiration for my first book.  It too will be about mice and I already have a title.

That's right, there's three less mice in the house all caught with just one, yes one, trap.  *wicked smile*  (insert evil laugh)