last year at this time

For today's post, I refer you to last year's post at this time.

Because it made me laugh last year, and I don't think I can top it!

apologies...again

Well, I am absolutely blown away.

BLOWN AWAY, I say!

Michael McCain, of Maple Leaf Foods, has responded with an astounding amount of honesty and integrity, admitting and taking full responsibility for the recent listeriosis outbreak. You can read the latest version of it here, but it's on youtube, on TV, and in full page ads in the newspapers too.



As you may know, sincere apologies result in serious respect from me. And I just dropped a line to Mr. McCain, on the Maple Leaf Foods website, letting him know that when this is all over - he's got my loyal business.

Maybe as the story develops, I will change my views, but for now - a LOUD, HEARTFELT HURRAH from me for someone who's got the guts to say, "I'm sorry".

With deepest and sincere sympathy as well, for those that have been hurt.

pretend you care

I know you have all been waiting with baited breath to see the before and after pictures of my garden.

Right? No?

Could you pretend you care, please? Because I put a lot of work into this, and the neighbours are quietly referring to me as the crazy lady who gardens and then takes pictures of her own garden.

And I would hate to think I gained that reputation for nothing.

The "before" pictures were taken in or around last April. You remember the adventures of our April vacation, right? Of course you do.

OK - here's the front garden, last spring. You will note that there was nothing in it. And it was flat. And it curved back on the edges.

Now it looks like this. Except it's a bit taller and fuller now, because I took this picture a couple of weeks ago. Nice, right? Notice it has things in it, as opposed to its earlier empty state. It also has a lovely slope, and it curves out on the edges. Plus there are strategically placed rocks that my friend Dave dropped off for me.

OK. Then there was this area with a bench, and a steel pole with a brick border around it. (Seriously, that's what it was.) It looked like this.

The bench came out with one hand, and the steel pole came out with the other. Now it looks like this.

And then there was the back garden, empty, except for weeds and really good dirt. It also originally had a broken down wooden fence across the front, but I don't think I ever took a picture of that. Anyway. It's gone.

Now it has tomatoes and onions and peppers. Well, pepper plants. For some reason, there are no actual peppers. And to be honest, there are still some weeds. I'm doing my best, but it's really good dirt, and the weeds love it just as much as the other plants.

Down the far side of the house, where we never need to go, it was a weed festival. Not very attractive for my neighbour. And not accessible to the lawnmower. So we ripped out the grass. And planted irish moss. It looks nice....when it's weeded. The moss is still working on spreading enough to choke out the weeds. Still - it's better than it was.

And then there are some potted plants here and there. That's all!!!

technological full moon

I cannot print, suddenly. Nor can I use the same printer to scan and email. I have plugged and unplugged everything. I have wiggled things, with a look on my face that says I know what I'm doing.

But clearly, I don't. Because it's not getting better.

Coincidentally, someone who is helping me with some other technological thing has just had their hard drive crash.

Someone else didn't get a phone message that I know I left them.

Is there a technological full moon out there today?

Or is it just that it's Friday, and we should all just move right into the weekend? I vote for giving up on this week, and hope for better times next week.

fb newbie

OK.

I did it.

I caved.

Befriend me!

Uncle Fester

A few days ago, Spike got in a bar brawl. He didn't mean to. But someone insulted my honour, and he felt obligated to defend it.

OK, that's not true. No one insulted my honour. If they had, I would have happily dealt with it myself.

No, no, Spike was doing a Blissed video shoot. Hard rock music videos involve a lot of strange things. This one involved a swinging microphone that was decades old, and therefore huge. And it swung directly into Spike's face.

He went for stitches on Saturday night. This is how he looked on Sunday.

Here he is, on Monday morning.

Later Monday morning.

On Monday afternoon, we thought some sunflowers might take the attention away from his stitched up forehead and black eye.

Didn't work.

Here is last night's photo.

And here is how he looks today.

Remind you of anyone?

just call me Laura Ingalls

We came. We saw. We canned. Me and my Multi-Talented Sister. (I don't have a nickname on here for her yet - suggestions are welcome.)

J-Blue created a photo documentary of this momentous event. We offer it to you for your enjoyment.

First the peaches. You will notice that there are two kinds of peaches. The bold and confident peaches on the right. And then there are mine, on the left. They're wussy and self-indulgent, requiring individual little paper nests in which to rest their fuzzy bodies.

I'm embarrassed for them.

We dumped them all in a pot, sans paper nests. Boiled 'em for awhile. (They didn't mind.)

Then we peeled 'em, and chopped them into brand new jars, making a small pit mountain on the side.

Poured some syrup over them all, so they don't get cold over the winter.

And then popped them in the oven for a bit, tightened their lids and waited for them to joyfully pop, announcing that they were ready to help us through a long, cold winter. (You know, in case we don't feel like driving a few blocks to the grocery store for peaches in February.)

Then we had lunch. An important part of a canning day.

We had to buy more jars, because the beets were starting to multiply when we weren't looking. Fortunately, we had coupons from the peach jars.

We interrupt our regular programming to introduce you to the pets of the family, Slash and Ginwalla. Personally, I'm not sure what they had to do with the canning, but I don't argue with photographers.

OK. Tired yet? I know I was. Grab a Snickers and move on to the beets. That's what I did.

We had a lot of beets. Many, many beets. Beets in bowls, beets in pots, beets in baskets, beets - there were lots! (did you catch the Dr. Seuss feel there? no? go back and read it again please. thank you.)

Boiled 'em.

Peeled 'em.

Sliced 'em.

Brined 'em. Spike says these photos are mildly disturbing, like some weird horror show....

Of course, Spike has a little horror show of his own going on right now, but I'll blog about that tomorrow.

Ran out of vinegar. Ran out of sugar. Pondered the meaning of beets. Came darn close to babbling incoherently, because the beets JUST WOULDN'T STOP.

Here is the finished product. Almost all of it. We had it all packed away, and then I realized we hadn't taken pictures, so I made us unpack all of them. Took this picture. Packed them all away again. Then realized we hadn't unpacked ALL of them for the picture. So this is some of them. Because there was no freakin' way we were unpacking them all again, just for a picture. You can imagine it, OK?

canning

I am learning to can today.

Not people.

Peaches.

Pictures and reports to follow.

this close

I feel it coming. The cave-in. The reversal of previous statements.

Don't you just hate when you can feel your mind changing, and everyone is going to know that you have flip-flopped?

Fortunately, I have never claimed to have very many unchanging thoughts, so it's not TOO hard on my pride to admit ...

I'm "this close" to joining Facebook.

I'm not sure when the shift happened. Maybe it was while I was reading a really excellent tech & church magazine that listed Facebook as one of the things you just can't do without anymore.

I know that a friend from public school that I wrote letters to in high school and then lost track of, recently contacted me after finding Spike on Facebook. That was pretty cool. I had tried finding her a few years ago, but couldn't. That probably shifted the balance of my opinions.

Then a few days ago, I was talking to one of you who had been right there with me, in being against Facebook, last time I asked. Found out that person caved while I wasn't looking, so they're on there too.

But the knot in my back today is screaming at me to spend LESS time on the computer. My chiropractor will fix that tomorrow, though.

To cave or not to cave? That is today's question. I asked the same question quite some time ago - I wonder if any of you have changed your minds from your previous positions?

(Whoa! Weird coincidence I noticed after publishing this post - if you click on "the same question" in the paragraph above, it will take you to that particular post - which is almost exactly one year ago.)

spike's wife

This is the man I married. I wasn't entirely aware of that at the time, although he certainly had communicated it as clearly as possible. I just hadn't perfected my listening skills yet. I thought he was exaggerating.

I was mistaken.

Still - he's cute, isn't he?

I think I'll keep him.

Note to Those Who Need To Know: My personal video footage from Friday night's gig. And yes, my zooming skills need work.

Olympics

(Blissed photos and video from last night to be posted in the next day or two)

I'm venturing into the land of politics here...cautiously...people can get fairly intense in this land....

Are you watcing the Olympics to support Canadian athletes?

Or are you NOT watching the Olympics to protest China's human rights record?

Or are you not really thinking about it one way or t'other?



I'm just interested.



For my part - the other night I flipped by Ron McLean on CBC whose job is to "show us the wonders of the country behind the sporting events" (as it always is in an Olympic year). His voice was very hushed and respectful, as he stood near whatever it was we were seeing.



And I was surprised to hear my mind conclude that I didn't want to watch whatever event the Chinese government had staged to make them look good to the outside world. So I changed the channel.



But I might still watch the sporting events. It's more of a time factor than anything else.



You?

biker party

Last week, Spike told me he was having company overnight.

I asked him where they were going to sleep in our little house? Had he checked our supply of pillows and blankets? Had he fluffed the guest towels and baked some little finger foods? Were there enough scented candles ... had he found my favourite internet piano jazz station to create a welcoming atmosphere?

Spike looked at me like I had three lovable heads. He informed me that he and his guests were going to play video games all night long, and eat salty, greasy, sugary things. Fluffing was not on the agenda. He suggested that it might be best for me to just retreat to my cozy, quiet bed.

Which I did, quite happily. (After grinding my coffee for the morning. That would be a nasty early morning sound for guests to wake up to when you've been playing video games all night.)

I really love going to sleep at night.

Even though Millhouse meows and clicks around until you lift him onto the bed, where he promptly drops himself on to my foot, and falls dead asleep so I can't turn over.

When he's asleep like that, I can flip him right over to get him off my foot. And he doesn't wake up.

Even though there are these pet-related complications, I still really love going to sleep at night.

When I woke up in the morning, I remembered there were guests snoozing peacefully somewhere, so I made sure I had my dressy PJ's on. Crept out of the bedroom to make the coffee and head out into the backyard.

And stopped dead in my tracks at the devastation I saw.

Half-eaten pizza and large knives.

Open bags of chips, glasses filled with some kind of red liquid.

Garbage and dirty dishes strewn everywhere.

I could only conclude that a biker gang had crashed Spike's video game night, possibly drugging me in the process, so that I slept through it.

There was a half-naked body right here, on the dining room floor.

The body was nowhere near the pillow or the blanket, mind you.

A trail of destruction led me to two other bodies, these ones safely snuggled into couches.

I took all these pictures for evidence.

Tucked a blanket around the body on the floor, and snuck a pillow under his head.

Poured my coffee to calm my nerves, and then I took a more methodical tour of the house. (I took Millhouse with me on the tour, in case I needed backup.)

Upon closer inspection, there were no bikers. No gangs. No permanent damage. And the body on the floor was only sleeping, not dead. I know this, because as I was taking another picture of him, his eyes opened sleepily and he smiled at me. That's when I recognized him. My youngest nephew, the Beaner.

That was my clue.

I smiled back, and then went back to the living room. Looked closely at the pile of long hair framing the face of the body on the love seat. Yup - it was my niece. In my mind, she's always been J-Blue. I don't know why.

And then, with renewed confidence, I looked across to the couch. On it was my oldest nephew, Punk. (Short for Punkin, a nickname given at birth, but don't tell him that. He'll be embarrassed.)

I shovelled up the garbage and burned what couldn't be saved. Oh come on, you know I didn't burn anything. And eventually they all crawled out of their respective corners for their part of this nutritious breakfast.

because I love Alaska

Still no time to write like I want to, but I finally opened up this video, which Kelly sent me probably a few weeks ago.

And it's so adorable, I had to share it! It's in Anchorage, Alaska, judging from the label attached.

backed up

No time right now.

Maybe some time tomorrow.

I have pictures and stories for you, tales of bikers and parties and waking up to bodies on the floor.

Stories of crabgrass and decorative grasses. Philosophical questions like "Who decided crab grass is bad? What if we decide it's good, like ornamental grasses?"

I may even tell you about our new lawnmower. Maybe.

But there's no time now. I'm trying to write a sermon and do laundry.

For now, enjoy one of my favourite songs.