July 3rd, 2009 - my last day with cable.... not just the specialty channels, but everything - gone. I can't quite remember what prompted the decision to finally cancel the service, but I was lamenting about how much time I was wasting every day, just surfing the tv to find something to watch. Most of the time I was watching movies that I've seen a bazillion times before or that I even own on DVD. It just didn't make any sense. The few shows that I watched regularly could all be seen the next day on the web or downloaded. In fact, I realized that I preferred watching these shows this way because I wasn't inundated with annoying commercials every 10 minutes.
Throughout the rest of the year I was also amazed at how much more reading I was doing. I polished off more books in the last 6 months than I've read in the past 5 years. Some, I'd even finish in a week or less. I've always enjoyed reading so it was nice to really get back into it without the distraction and beckoning call of the TV.
It's also been nice to not have TV available as an instant babysitter for Gummer. On a rare occasion I have put a Baby Einstein DVD in for him, but other than that if I'm watching a movie myself on DVD he only seems mildly interested. I keep reading more and more articles about potential problems for children exposed to TV on a daily basis for long periods of time before the age of 2. I can foresee problems even developing after the age of 2, especially with the amount of programming that is geared towards kids. I want Gummer to want to play outside or use his imagination with his toys rather than watching TV all the time. On the occasion when he's older, it's fine, but there are just far too many kids glued to the TV for my liking.
However... the moment has arrived where I am now missing the TV... just a bit. It's award season - although I'm primarily interested in the movie awards. This Sunday is the Golden Globes and sadly it'll be the first time in a long time that I won't be seeing it. I suppose I could go next door to my mother's but she only has one TV and she is glued to it as it is. My brother has suggested I try using rabbit ears and try and get some reception to one of the channels that surely must be airing the show. I may still attempt that, but although I am normally eternally optimistic I'm doubtful I'll get any reception.
The other notable difference I've felt is that I don't even know what movies are playing and which ones look interesting because I don't see ads for them anymore. I can say that I have seen Blind Side and The Air Up There recently and both were really good (just in case you were looking for a recommendation). I'm sure that they'll both be up for nominations for the Academy Awards.... sigh which is another one I'll most likely miss this year.
Here's hoping that I get lucky with rabbit ears as opposed to the foot!
Saturday, January 16, 2010
Wednesday, January 6, 2010
Zellers vs. Walmart and a diaper debacle
I shop at Walmart. I don't care about the arguments about the mean corporation that's shutting all the smaller stores down. I don't buy into the arguments that Walmart buys products made by child labour. I shop there because they have a good selection, decent prices and it's orderly.
Zellers is a nightmare in comparison. I hate that I can't support a Canadian chain but going into a Zellers just drives me mental. Every time I walk in, the place looks like a dump. It seems poorly lit, the layout of the store is confusing and it's obvious that they don't have enough floor staff to keep it looking good and the floor staff that is there obviously don't care about it either.
Yesterday I was on a quest, a mission...ok, I needed some night time diapers. Corwin with his heavy wetting at night is wearing Huggies Overnights with great success. The only place I have been buying the diapers were at Zellers (which was found on a whim the first time while I was out shopping) in the next town over (Ajax for those of you who are familiar with the GTA). We were down to our last 2 diapers and I went to our local Zellers in Pickering to pick some up. This Zellers, even amongst Zellers has to be, by far the worst I've ever seen. Product is always haphazardly strewn about and never looking organized. It looks like a discount warehouse bargain bin. Items are always in the wrong place with the wrong price and sometimes packaging is laying there torn open.
The diaper section was a disaster. When I'm at Walmart, the diapers are always on the shelves, organized in the proper order of brand, line and sizing - facing out properly and neatly. At Zellers, diapers were all over the place, packages thrown about. There was a woman there with a relatively young baby in a stroller. Suddenly, the woman rips open a package of Huggies and takes a diaper out. Gasp.... what the hell was she doing? She appeared to look at the caricature (Huggies has licensing on Disney characters and Pampers for Sesame Street) on the front of the diaper and then put the diaper back. She tossed the bag to the side and started looking at a different pack. Had she opened yet another package to look at a diaper I would have said something but I don't think she did. I still had great issue with this though. Who thinks that this type of behaviour is acceptable? That package of diapers won't be sold now. I certainly wouldn't buy a package of diapers that had been previously opened. I'm sure this woman probably wouldn't either so I don't understand why she would have done so. I can not for the life of me imagine why she needed to see the diaper like that and I'm usually one who can sympathize with others. Just unacceptable. I'm sure stuff like this happens at Walmart too... it's a discount store and I understand that many of the people who shop there do so because they are very price conscious. However, I've never seen such a blatant act of vandalism in front of a stranger before. I should have reported her but I just wanted to get out of there because well, the whole purpose of being in the section in the first place was to get Corwin diapers and they didn't have any. Well, at least I couldn't find them in the heap of diapers messily displayed.
I left, went to the Shoppers Drug Mart (it's in the same mall) and found the brand but they only had sizes 4 and 5. FARK! I drove to Loblaws, just a block over thinking that they always have a good selection of diapers. No luck there either -not even the Overnights line. I drove to Price Chopper on my way home and still came out empty handed. I went into another Shoppers Drug Mart - again only sizes 4 and 5!!!!! ARGHHHHHHH!
Luckily, my BFF and I had plans last night and she lives right next to the Zellers where I originally bought the diapers. I quickly called in a favour to pick me up two packs before heading over. She shuddered at the idea of having to go into Zellers, as she's not fond of them either but came out with 2 packs.
Ironically - this store only had size 3.......
Zellers is a nightmare in comparison. I hate that I can't support a Canadian chain but going into a Zellers just drives me mental. Every time I walk in, the place looks like a dump. It seems poorly lit, the layout of the store is confusing and it's obvious that they don't have enough floor staff to keep it looking good and the floor staff that is there obviously don't care about it either.
Yesterday I was on a quest, a mission...ok, I needed some night time diapers. Corwin with his heavy wetting at night is wearing Huggies Overnights with great success. The only place I have been buying the diapers were at Zellers (which was found on a whim the first time while I was out shopping) in the next town over (Ajax for those of you who are familiar with the GTA). We were down to our last 2 diapers and I went to our local Zellers in Pickering to pick some up. This Zellers, even amongst Zellers has to be, by far the worst I've ever seen. Product is always haphazardly strewn about and never looking organized. It looks like a discount warehouse bargain bin. Items are always in the wrong place with the wrong price and sometimes packaging is laying there torn open.
The diaper section was a disaster. When I'm at Walmart, the diapers are always on the shelves, organized in the proper order of brand, line and sizing - facing out properly and neatly. At Zellers, diapers were all over the place, packages thrown about. There was a woman there with a relatively young baby in a stroller. Suddenly, the woman rips open a package of Huggies and takes a diaper out. Gasp.... what the hell was she doing? She appeared to look at the caricature (Huggies has licensing on Disney characters and Pampers for Sesame Street) on the front of the diaper and then put the diaper back. She tossed the bag to the side and started looking at a different pack. Had she opened yet another package to look at a diaper I would have said something but I don't think she did. I still had great issue with this though. Who thinks that this type of behaviour is acceptable? That package of diapers won't be sold now. I certainly wouldn't buy a package of diapers that had been previously opened. I'm sure this woman probably wouldn't either so I don't understand why she would have done so. I can not for the life of me imagine why she needed to see the diaper like that and I'm usually one who can sympathize with others. Just unacceptable. I'm sure stuff like this happens at Walmart too... it's a discount store and I understand that many of the people who shop there do so because they are very price conscious. However, I've never seen such a blatant act of vandalism in front of a stranger before. I should have reported her but I just wanted to get out of there because well, the whole purpose of being in the section in the first place was to get Corwin diapers and they didn't have any. Well, at least I couldn't find them in the heap of diapers messily displayed.
I left, went to the Shoppers Drug Mart (it's in the same mall) and found the brand but they only had sizes 4 and 5. FARK! I drove to Loblaws, just a block over thinking that they always have a good selection of diapers. No luck there either -not even the Overnights line. I drove to Price Chopper on my way home and still came out empty handed. I went into another Shoppers Drug Mart - again only sizes 4 and 5!!!!! ARGHHHHHHH!
Luckily, my BFF and I had plans last night and she lives right next to the Zellers where I originally bought the diapers. I quickly called in a favour to pick me up two packs before heading over. She shuddered at the idea of having to go into Zellers, as she's not fond of them either but came out with 2 packs.
Ironically - this store only had size 3.......
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Just when you thought I'd quit!
I'm back! Yes it's been forever since I last wrote but now that the new year has arrived I am determined to get back on track.
The holidays were crazy and an emotional roller coaster for me.
Christmas day was always quiet in the morning, unlike the traditional North American family. Santa didn't show up because my parents were immigrants and didn't know any better. I remember many a Christmas eve staring out of my bedroom window hoping that I'd get a glimpse of Santa and that I'd wake up and at least find one thing from Santa under the tree. My parents never bothered telling me outright that he didn't exist and there I was hoping that he'd show up to my house and every year, I'd be disappointed. I used to harbour much guilt about being such a bad kid and that perhaps that's why Santa never showed up at my house but always did at my friends'. Our tree was always bare underneath it until my mother came up with the brilliant idea of wrapping up some boxes to use as "fake gifts" under the tree... ugh... talk about rubbing salt into wounds.
For as long as I can remember Christmas meant that my only relatives that live in Toronto would come over and join us for dinner. My father's eldest brother, wife and 3 kids would all come over to the Christmas feast that my mother had prepared. Every year I would help my mom prepare for the dinner and as years went by my brother and I would take on more and more responsibility and dishes.
Christmas also meant my father would be building his 1 fire in our fireplace - the only fire that we would have all year. My father was a metallurgical engineer, not an outdoorsman and fires were definitely not his forte. Damp wood combined with a not fully opened flue caused the annual smoke out in our living room, where we would then have to open windows to try and air out the house of smoke before our guests showed. While the air was still thick with acrid smoke, the fire blazing in the fireplace, my father, brother and I running around with our winter coats on and my mother rolling her eyes at my father, my father would suggest it was the perfect time to take some photos. He was always an avid photographer and much to my dismay I was usually his favourite subject. In between the burning of my eyes and coughing due to smoke inhalation, I would lay on my tummy in front of the fireplace, throw my winter coat out of the frame and hold my prop book in place and smile for my father. Ah yes, the dutiful daughter.
Once the dinner was ready, our guests would begin to show up. I was usually very excited to see my cousins and quickly usher them in, help hang their coats and lead them into our dining room.
As the years went by there would always be a cousin or two that wasn't there because they were away at school or living in a different city, but there were always some of them. As they got married and had kids, Christmas got livelier and more festive but the one thing that never changed was that our family always hosted.
When PB and I got married and bought our house, hosting duties were transferred to us as we had the space to have sit down dining for the growing brood. I enjoyed getting the house decorated for the holidays and planning the annual feast and seeing all of my relatives all together.
Last year, our Christmas felt odd.....my cousin in law Jeannie had died a few days before Corwin was born and her absence was felt greatly. My younger cousin suggested that we set a spot at the kids table (where she always sat) in memoriam of her. I did so while tears streamed down my face. It was also odd because my father was absent having been paralyzed earlier that year. Christmas was always the time of year my father came back and the whole family was together.
Last year's Christmas made me want to make this year extra special. Also, since Corwin was older now he'd at least be awake and be able to open some presents. Then like dominoes my family started to bail out on Christmas this year. First was my mother in law who decided she would not make the trip from Poland. This would be the first year since PB and I had been together that his mother was not celebrating Christmas with us. Then my cousins in Orillia decided they would go to Ottawa to visit the inlaws (they don't celebrate Christmas themselves because of their religion but have always spent Christmas with us). Then my cousin who lost his wife last year decided he wasn't feeling up to celebrating Christmas so he was going to Ottawa with his brother. Then the last remaining cousin was planning on going to the States for a shopping trip. DURING CHRISTMAS???? That would also mean my uncle wouldn't be coming since none of his kids were coming and my dad wasn't either since he's still paralyzed.
I was shocked. All I had wanted was the same feeling of a large family gathering for Corwin to experience. That same feeling that had resonated in every Christmas since I was a young child - the only thing I really had to look forward to since it wasn't about Santa and getting gifts. I felt sad and then angry that I had spent so many years celebrating Christmas and keeping this tradition going for all of their children and now that they were all older, they didn't see any point in it so they were bailing. What about my kid?? I began to make plans without them - new traditions that we would have with my immediate family that Corwin would experience every year.
As it turns out, my cousin that was going Stateside didn't end up leaving until Boxing Day so she did show up with her family but I have to say the whole thing felt weird.
I have no idea what's going to happen next year, but I'm prepared to have intimate family Christmases from here on in if my extended family doesn't want to celebrate anymore. The Christmas spirit will live on in my house, PB will build us non smoking fires and Santa will show up for Corwin.
Happy New Year everyone and I'll see you around much more!
The holidays were crazy and an emotional roller coaster for me.
Christmas day was always quiet in the morning, unlike the traditional North American family. Santa didn't show up because my parents were immigrants and didn't know any better. I remember many a Christmas eve staring out of my bedroom window hoping that I'd get a glimpse of Santa and that I'd wake up and at least find one thing from Santa under the tree. My parents never bothered telling me outright that he didn't exist and there I was hoping that he'd show up to my house and every year, I'd be disappointed. I used to harbour much guilt about being such a bad kid and that perhaps that's why Santa never showed up at my house but always did at my friends'. Our tree was always bare underneath it until my mother came up with the brilliant idea of wrapping up some boxes to use as "fake gifts" under the tree... ugh... talk about rubbing salt into wounds.
For as long as I can remember Christmas meant that my only relatives that live in Toronto would come over and join us for dinner. My father's eldest brother, wife and 3 kids would all come over to the Christmas feast that my mother had prepared. Every year I would help my mom prepare for the dinner and as years went by my brother and I would take on more and more responsibility and dishes.
Christmas also meant my father would be building his 1 fire in our fireplace - the only fire that we would have all year. My father was a metallurgical engineer, not an outdoorsman and fires were definitely not his forte. Damp wood combined with a not fully opened flue caused the annual smoke out in our living room, where we would then have to open windows to try and air out the house of smoke before our guests showed. While the air was still thick with acrid smoke, the fire blazing in the fireplace, my father, brother and I running around with our winter coats on and my mother rolling her eyes at my father, my father would suggest it was the perfect time to take some photos. He was always an avid photographer and much to my dismay I was usually his favourite subject. In between the burning of my eyes and coughing due to smoke inhalation, I would lay on my tummy in front of the fireplace, throw my winter coat out of the frame and hold my prop book in place and smile for my father. Ah yes, the dutiful daughter.
Once the dinner was ready, our guests would begin to show up. I was usually very excited to see my cousins and quickly usher them in, help hang their coats and lead them into our dining room.
As the years went by there would always be a cousin or two that wasn't there because they were away at school or living in a different city, but there were always some of them. As they got married and had kids, Christmas got livelier and more festive but the one thing that never changed was that our family always hosted.
When PB and I got married and bought our house, hosting duties were transferred to us as we had the space to have sit down dining for the growing brood. I enjoyed getting the house decorated for the holidays and planning the annual feast and seeing all of my relatives all together.
Last year, our Christmas felt odd.....my cousin in law Jeannie had died a few days before Corwin was born and her absence was felt greatly. My younger cousin suggested that we set a spot at the kids table (where she always sat) in memoriam of her. I did so while tears streamed down my face. It was also odd because my father was absent having been paralyzed earlier that year. Christmas was always the time of year my father came back and the whole family was together.
Last year's Christmas made me want to make this year extra special. Also, since Corwin was older now he'd at least be awake and be able to open some presents. Then like dominoes my family started to bail out on Christmas this year. First was my mother in law who decided she would not make the trip from Poland. This would be the first year since PB and I had been together that his mother was not celebrating Christmas with us. Then my cousins in Orillia decided they would go to Ottawa to visit the inlaws (they don't celebrate Christmas themselves because of their religion but have always spent Christmas with us). Then my cousin who lost his wife last year decided he wasn't feeling up to celebrating Christmas so he was going to Ottawa with his brother. Then the last remaining cousin was planning on going to the States for a shopping trip. DURING CHRISTMAS???? That would also mean my uncle wouldn't be coming since none of his kids were coming and my dad wasn't either since he's still paralyzed.
I was shocked. All I had wanted was the same feeling of a large family gathering for Corwin to experience. That same feeling that had resonated in every Christmas since I was a young child - the only thing I really had to look forward to since it wasn't about Santa and getting gifts. I felt sad and then angry that I had spent so many years celebrating Christmas and keeping this tradition going for all of their children and now that they were all older, they didn't see any point in it so they were bailing. What about my kid?? I began to make plans without them - new traditions that we would have with my immediate family that Corwin would experience every year.
As it turns out, my cousin that was going Stateside didn't end up leaving until Boxing Day so she did show up with her family but I have to say the whole thing felt weird.
I have no idea what's going to happen next year, but I'm prepared to have intimate family Christmases from here on in if my extended family doesn't want to celebrate anymore. The Christmas spirit will live on in my house, PB will build us non smoking fires and Santa will show up for Corwin.
Happy New Year everyone and I'll see you around much more!
Thursday, November 19, 2009
The enigma that is my crockpot
There was a woman who blogged about making her family dinner every night in the crock pot. 365 nights of crock pot meals. PB could kill me for that, but more likely something bad would mysteriously happen to my crock pot. He's not a big fan of stewed or really tender falling off the bone kind of meat.
I got a crock pot a.k.a slow cooker for my birthday this year from my BFF. The crock pot is back in vogue as more families are dual income and don't have the time to prepare dinner at the end of the day. In fact, even big companies are jumping on the crock pot wagon and creating ready to cook, prepackaged crock pot meals to just throw in and turn on the crock pot. It couldn't be any easier.
So here I am, a new mother, finding herself with less time to create the lavish meals I used to prepare (alright, perhaps lavish is a bit exaggerated, but certainly I had more time to cook and enjoy cooking). Now, I have a toddler, pulling at my pant legs, screaming to be picked up one minute and then squirming to get down the next. Not exactly conducive to prepping and cooking over a hot stove. I thought that I'd venture into this unknown territory of crock pot cooking and see what the excitement was all about.
My BFF, knowing that I was contemplating the slow cooker, and who constantly tells me I'm a difficult person to buy gifts for, jumped on this opportunity and presented me with a modern, high end, Kitchen Aid, 7 QT slow cooker. In terms of slow cookers, I had the Mercedes of cookers (although I'm sure it has a better reliability rating "wink"). I went and got some cookbooks from the library and started eagerly planning for my first crockpot meal.
Now here is where the enigma began. I soon realized that most recipes called for a fair amount of prep work before putting it in the pot. Lots of chopping - although this was to be expected, but also browning, sauteing, pre-cooking of other sorts and then to finish it in the slow cooker. This did not seem like a good savings of time. In fact, I started to question why anyone would use a slow cooker because most of the things could be done on the stove or in the oven on low heat. So what was the point? Granted, if I worked outside of the home I most likely would not want my stove on or my oven unattended so from that angle, I can see the importance of the crock pot to the slow cooker enthusiasts.
The other issue I had with the slow cooker was the amount of pre-processed items that would be required. Mostly flavour enhancers, but things I really don't regularly use. Adding cans of condensed mushroom soup, whole bottles of barbecue sauce, flavouring packets and dried soup mixes all seemed rather unappealing.
Back in April, I tried making my first crock pot item - a corn and red pepper soup. Only fresh, whole ingredients and looked tasty from the picture - (I'm very visual when it comes to food). It also required no pre-cooking, just preparation of ingredients and then put into the crockpot. I have to say, that after 8 hours of simmering and some nice heady aromas filling up my kitchen, I was sorely disappointed with the soup. Lack of flavour and body - perhaps a can of cream of mushroom soup could have livened it up. It was completely one dimensional. Disappointed, I decided not to give up on my shiny new gift.
Now that the weather has turned colder and after I have spent the summer doing some research into recipes, I am now embarking on my own culinary adventure to demystify my crockpot. My goals are:
1. To find recipes that require no pre-cooking and thus making it a time saving recipe.
2. To find recipes where the end result is a mixture and balance of complexity, body and flavour.
I have attempted making ribs earlier in the summer, which were no comparison to my slowly smoked ribs on the barbecue but were ok - better than the soup. It also did not require a whole bottle of barbecue sauce. I have also found a beef stew recipe, that does not require browning of the beef and with a little help from our friends Lea and Perrins and their worcestershire sauce, it was surprisingly full of flavour, and tasted as if the beef had been browned. I am convinced that I have also found the perfect cut of beef for stew - blade steak as opposed to the precut mystery stewing beef. The beef was tender, falling apart and full of beefy goodness.
I attempted a chicken noodle soup this evening and shockingly, it was also quite good, albeit on the salty side. I've also got some books on hold from the library that are supposed to contain new and exciting slow cooker recipes. I'm eager to leaf through them and give them a try.
There's hope for my crockpot yet!
I got a crock pot a.k.a slow cooker for my birthday this year from my BFF. The crock pot is back in vogue as more families are dual income and don't have the time to prepare dinner at the end of the day. In fact, even big companies are jumping on the crock pot wagon and creating ready to cook, prepackaged crock pot meals to just throw in and turn on the crock pot. It couldn't be any easier.
So here I am, a new mother, finding herself with less time to create the lavish meals I used to prepare (alright, perhaps lavish is a bit exaggerated, but certainly I had more time to cook and enjoy cooking). Now, I have a toddler, pulling at my pant legs, screaming to be picked up one minute and then squirming to get down the next. Not exactly conducive to prepping and cooking over a hot stove. I thought that I'd venture into this unknown territory of crock pot cooking and see what the excitement was all about.
My BFF, knowing that I was contemplating the slow cooker, and who constantly tells me I'm a difficult person to buy gifts for, jumped on this opportunity and presented me with a modern, high end, Kitchen Aid, 7 QT slow cooker. In terms of slow cookers, I had the Mercedes of cookers (although I'm sure it has a better reliability rating "wink"). I went and got some cookbooks from the library and started eagerly planning for my first crockpot meal.
Now here is where the enigma began. I soon realized that most recipes called for a fair amount of prep work before putting it in the pot. Lots of chopping - although this was to be expected, but also browning, sauteing, pre-cooking of other sorts and then to finish it in the slow cooker. This did not seem like a good savings of time. In fact, I started to question why anyone would use a slow cooker because most of the things could be done on the stove or in the oven on low heat. So what was the point? Granted, if I worked outside of the home I most likely would not want my stove on or my oven unattended so from that angle, I can see the importance of the crock pot to the slow cooker enthusiasts.
The other issue I had with the slow cooker was the amount of pre-processed items that would be required. Mostly flavour enhancers, but things I really don't regularly use. Adding cans of condensed mushroom soup, whole bottles of barbecue sauce, flavouring packets and dried soup mixes all seemed rather unappealing.
Back in April, I tried making my first crock pot item - a corn and red pepper soup. Only fresh, whole ingredients and looked tasty from the picture - (I'm very visual when it comes to food). It also required no pre-cooking, just preparation of ingredients and then put into the crockpot. I have to say, that after 8 hours of simmering and some nice heady aromas filling up my kitchen, I was sorely disappointed with the soup. Lack of flavour and body - perhaps a can of cream of mushroom soup could have livened it up. It was completely one dimensional. Disappointed, I decided not to give up on my shiny new gift.
Now that the weather has turned colder and after I have spent the summer doing some research into recipes, I am now embarking on my own culinary adventure to demystify my crockpot. My goals are:
1. To find recipes that require no pre-cooking and thus making it a time saving recipe.
2. To find recipes where the end result is a mixture and balance of complexity, body and flavour.
I have attempted making ribs earlier in the summer, which were no comparison to my slowly smoked ribs on the barbecue but were ok - better than the soup. It also did not require a whole bottle of barbecue sauce. I have also found a beef stew recipe, that does not require browning of the beef and with a little help from our friends Lea and Perrins and their worcestershire sauce, it was surprisingly full of flavour, and tasted as if the beef had been browned. I am convinced that I have also found the perfect cut of beef for stew - blade steak as opposed to the precut mystery stewing beef. The beef was tender, falling apart and full of beefy goodness.
I attempted a chicken noodle soup this evening and shockingly, it was also quite good, albeit on the salty side. I've also got some books on hold from the library that are supposed to contain new and exciting slow cooker recipes. I'm eager to leaf through them and give them a try.
There's hope for my crockpot yet!
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Been a while...
October was rather crazy busy around here and although the blog was on my mind on a regular basis (and there was some guilt over not writing as often) I never found the time to sit down and actually compose anything. I'm hoping that November will be different but with the holidays around the corner and some projects I'd like to work looming upon me, let's just play it by ear and not make any promises. :-)
I had a friend in high school who told me about a friend of hers (that she met in a rather seedy establishment and was significantly older than us) that went panhandling and made X amount of dollars doing so. This "friend" did have a regular job so I asked naively why he was panhandling. Apparently because it was a pretty good way to make some cash was the answer. Jaw drops.... That pretty much altered my view of homeless and panhandlers on the street. How was I supposed to determine which ones were legitimate and needed help and which ones were like this "friend"? It's amazing that it's always one bad apple in the bunch that can make you judge the whole barrel, and this isn't even my typical way of thinking. I usually approach things on a individual basis, but this really rubbed me the wrong way.
So, I am not one to give spare change to anyone anymore. It's not like I was doling it out prior to this incident, but it has definitely skewed my sense of charity. However, there is one charitable thing that I do either biennially or triennially. This happened to be one of those years.
I chop off at least 12" every 2-3 years and donate it to Angel Hair for Kids or Pantene's Beautiful Lengths program so that they can make wigs for cancer patients and anyone else who has lost their hair from medical conditions or treatments. I have a lot of hair and it grows quickly so it's something that I feel can benefit others that's very easy for me to give. This will be the 5th "lock" I've given and I'll continue to do so as long as my graying hair will let me.
The hairstylist I went to this year was quite surprised at my blase attitude about chopping off so much hair. She buys extensions to put in hers as she can't get length or volume naturally. PB is never ecstatic about me chopping it off, as he's very partial to long hair, but understands that it is mine and mine to give away if I so desire.
What does irk me about this year's donation is that I specifically requested, as I always do, to have enough lenth remaining to throw up in a ponytail as I am not very fussy about "doing" my hair on a daily basis. The layering and thinning of my hair did not permit me to do so very easily with this new haircut and as a new mother, it's driving me up the wall!!! The one time I don't have the time or the patience to be fiddling with my hair and I can't put it up without wispies falling down is aggravating. My only consolation is that my hair does grow quickly... although this time, it couldn't be fast enough! :-)
I had a friend in high school who told me about a friend of hers (that she met in a rather seedy establishment and was significantly older than us) that went panhandling and made X amount of dollars doing so. This "friend" did have a regular job so I asked naively why he was panhandling. Apparently because it was a pretty good way to make some cash was the answer. Jaw drops.... That pretty much altered my view of homeless and panhandlers on the street. How was I supposed to determine which ones were legitimate and needed help and which ones were like this "friend"? It's amazing that it's always one bad apple in the bunch that can make you judge the whole barrel, and this isn't even my typical way of thinking. I usually approach things on a individual basis, but this really rubbed me the wrong way.
So, I am not one to give spare change to anyone anymore. It's not like I was doling it out prior to this incident, but it has definitely skewed my sense of charity. However, there is one charitable thing that I do either biennially or triennially. This happened to be one of those years.
I chop off at least 12" every 2-3 years and donate it to Angel Hair for Kids or Pantene's Beautiful Lengths program so that they can make wigs for cancer patients and anyone else who has lost their hair from medical conditions or treatments. I have a lot of hair and it grows quickly so it's something that I feel can benefit others that's very easy for me to give. This will be the 5th "lock" I've given and I'll continue to do so as long as my graying hair will let me.The hairstylist I went to this year was quite surprised at my blase attitude about chopping off so much hair. She buys extensions to put in hers as she can't get length or volume naturally. PB is never ecstatic about me chopping it off, as he's very partial to long hair, but understands that it is mine and mine to give away if I so desire.
What does irk me about this year's donation is that I specifically requested, as I always do, to have enough lenth remaining to throw up in a ponytail as I am not very fussy about "doing" my hair on a daily basis. The layering and thinning of my hair did not permit me to do so very easily with this new haircut and as a new mother, it's driving me up the wall!!! The one time I don't have the time or the patience to be fiddling with my hair and I can't put it up without wispies falling down is aggravating. My only consolation is that my hair does grow quickly... although this time, it couldn't be fast enough! :-)
Friday, October 16, 2009
Halloween
As the air turns colder, the leaves start changing colours and plant life starts to wilt and shrivel away, I know that Halloween is just around the corner.
When I was pregnant and found out that my due date was the first week of November I kept wishing that I would have a Halloween baby. A perfect excuse to go all out every single year. It didn't look promising considering that first babies have a tendency to go overdue. Then, when my blood pressure was acting up and more difficult to control, my OB decided that an induction would be prudent. She gave me the option of November 2nd or October 30th. Both were relatively interesting dates as the November one is the day before my mother's birthday and October 30th was close to Halloween. I decided that close to Halloween was better than after Halloween and opted for the 30th.
I was pleasantly surprised when my induction did not work and I ended up with a c-section and delivered Corwin at 7:05am on Halloween! Wowee! I got my Halloween baby!
As a kid, who wouldn't love Halloween! Dress up like anything you want and then go knocking on doors begging for candy. I still remember the first time I ever went trick or treating. I was in the first grade - my cousin/brother Jack came over to take me out trick or treating. My mother dressed me in one of her dresses, complete with a hat, jewels and I vaguely remember gloves and high heels. Having never done it before I felt a little lost and overwhelmed at what I was supposed to do. The idea is a bit strange - go to strangers' homes and knock on the door and wait for candy. My mother had bought me a little plastic pumpkin to hold my loot and clutched in hand, we were on our way.
I went to a few houses and knocked on the door. I didn't say much, a bit on the shy side and not really knowing what to do. They just said the proverbial "Hello! What do we have here?" and "Oh aren't you sweet?" gave me my candy and sent me on my way. Then there was one house that made me want to turn back home and cry. I knocked on the door and a man answered.
"Hi," I said.
"Hello. What are you supposed to be?"
"A little lady."
"I see. Do you want some candy?"
"Yes please?"
"What do you say?"
I was dumb founded. Didn't I just say please? Maybe he didn't hear me. I said please again.
"Nope, that's not it."
"Happy Halloween?"
"Nope."
"How are you?"
"Nope." The man was looking both amused and disturbed. I was beginning to think I should run away.
"Thank you?" I was really grasping at straws.
"Nope."
"Pretty please?"
"Nope."
This was getting annoying... how long was he going to play this stupid game with me? Finally he must have given up with my ignorance and said, "You're supposed to say TRICK OR TREAT!" Gave me my candy and shut the door.
I was mortified! Of course! I'd seen that on TV before. I didn't know I was really supposed to say it though. What if they said, trick? What would I have done then? I was also the product of immigrant parents who never even bothered to lie to me about Santa Claus (whole other story!) so how would I know what the custom of trick or treating was? I took Jack's hand and said, "I'm ready to go home now."
Thankfully, that man did not squash my halloween spirit. I went trick or treating with some friends the next year and I screamed TRICK OR TREAT! as loud as the other kids did and all was well again. I soon graduated from my little plastic pumpkin to a plastic bag and then to the mother of all halloween bags - the pillow case. I loved coming home and emptying my loot out on my bedroom floor and then sorting and examining my spoils into neat little piles.
Now that I'm an adult, I look forward to carving pumpkins, making my halloween treat bags, decorating the house (although I wish I had more storage space to get even more decorations) and if I could get away with it, I'd still go out with my pillow case and go trick or treating. Now that I have a Halloween baby, I'll be able to have even more fun and he'll have costume parties every year! Hooray! I can't wait until Corwin is old enough to go trick or treating. Can't beat a birthday where you get lots of free candy!
When I was pregnant and found out that my due date was the first week of November I kept wishing that I would have a Halloween baby. A perfect excuse to go all out every single year. It didn't look promising considering that first babies have a tendency to go overdue. Then, when my blood pressure was acting up and more difficult to control, my OB decided that an induction would be prudent. She gave me the option of November 2nd or October 30th. Both were relatively interesting dates as the November one is the day before my mother's birthday and October 30th was close to Halloween. I decided that close to Halloween was better than after Halloween and opted for the 30th.
I was pleasantly surprised when my induction did not work and I ended up with a c-section and delivered Corwin at 7:05am on Halloween! Wowee! I got my Halloween baby!
As a kid, who wouldn't love Halloween! Dress up like anything you want and then go knocking on doors begging for candy. I still remember the first time I ever went trick or treating. I was in the first grade - my cousin/brother Jack came over to take me out trick or treating. My mother dressed me in one of her dresses, complete with a hat, jewels and I vaguely remember gloves and high heels. Having never done it before I felt a little lost and overwhelmed at what I was supposed to do. The idea is a bit strange - go to strangers' homes and knock on the door and wait for candy. My mother had bought me a little plastic pumpkin to hold my loot and clutched in hand, we were on our way.
I went to a few houses and knocked on the door. I didn't say much, a bit on the shy side and not really knowing what to do. They just said the proverbial "Hello! What do we have here?" and "Oh aren't you sweet?" gave me my candy and sent me on my way. Then there was one house that made me want to turn back home and cry. I knocked on the door and a man answered.
"Hi," I said.
"Hello. What are you supposed to be?"
"A little lady."
"I see. Do you want some candy?"
"Yes please?"
"What do you say?"
I was dumb founded. Didn't I just say please? Maybe he didn't hear me. I said please again.
"Nope, that's not it."
"Happy Halloween?"
"Nope."
"How are you?"
"Nope." The man was looking both amused and disturbed. I was beginning to think I should run away.
"Thank you?" I was really grasping at straws.
"Nope."
"Pretty please?"
"Nope."
This was getting annoying... how long was he going to play this stupid game with me? Finally he must have given up with my ignorance and said, "You're supposed to say TRICK OR TREAT!" Gave me my candy and shut the door.
I was mortified! Of course! I'd seen that on TV before. I didn't know I was really supposed to say it though. What if they said, trick? What would I have done then? I was also the product of immigrant parents who never even bothered to lie to me about Santa Claus (whole other story!) so how would I know what the custom of trick or treating was? I took Jack's hand and said, "I'm ready to go home now."
Thankfully, that man did not squash my halloween spirit. I went trick or treating with some friends the next year and I screamed TRICK OR TREAT! as loud as the other kids did and all was well again. I soon graduated from my little plastic pumpkin to a plastic bag and then to the mother of all halloween bags - the pillow case. I loved coming home and emptying my loot out on my bedroom floor and then sorting and examining my spoils into neat little piles.
Now that I'm an adult, I look forward to carving pumpkins, making my halloween treat bags, decorating the house (although I wish I had more storage space to get even more decorations) and if I could get away with it, I'd still go out with my pillow case and go trick or treating. Now that I have a Halloween baby, I'll be able to have even more fun and he'll have costume parties every year! Hooray! I can't wait until Corwin is old enough to go trick or treating. Can't beat a birthday where you get lots of free candy!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Things that go beep in the night
After an uneventful Thanksgiving, I trudged upstairs to try and get to bed earlier than usual. It was close to 11pm by the time I had finished brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed. I snuggled into our bed with my novel, laying down quietly next to Corwin who was fast asleep nested in between some pillows. Being a relatively cold night, Pirx (our siberian husky) had also decided to join us on our bed and was already in a twitchy paw sleep. I had only started to read my book when Corwin started stirring and then started crying. Ahh, midnight feed.... I sat up and held him close and started nursing. Not 5 minutes into nursing there was suddenly a "beep!" from the hall outside our bedroom. Smoke detector battery.
Pirx's ears perked up and he lay on the bed with his head up looking alarmed. Corwin had pulled off my breast and was also alert to this new and unfamiliar noise. I encouraged Corwin to continue nursing and tried to settle Pirx down again.
"Beep!"
Pirx was up and out of bed quickly and Corwin had pulled off again, confused at the noise. Pirx was already displaying his panicky tendency when we have power outages and he hears a similar beeping sound (I believe from the batteries hooked up to our desktop computers). He skulked to our bathroom and finding no place "safe" he looked at me as I tried to get Corwin to nurse.
"Beep!"
And with that last beep Corwin clamped down with all six of his teeth on my breast. "OWWWWW!" I yelled as I yanked my mangled nipple out of his mouth. Corwin looked at me absolutely freaked out and horrified and opened his mouth wide and started wailing, big tears forming and rolling out of his eyes. Damnit!! By this time, Pirx had run into our main bath and I heard some strange and unfamiliar noises coming from there. I tried to soothe Corwin, but then
"Beep!"
"Bloody hell," I said and plunked a screaming and crying Corwin into his crib. I peeked into the main bath as I headed down the stairs to find a replacement battery. Pirx had managed to get himself into the tub (an absolute first since he was a pup and had a bath in there) and was cowering behind the shower curtain. I chuckled to myself at my brave dog as I went to the basement to find a 9V battery.
Through continuous wailing from Corwin, I was grateful to find a new battery in the basement and got prepared to eliminate the beeping. Pirx had run out of the bathroom at some point and as I got back to the top of the stairs, he was standing in our bedroom doorway trembling in absolute terror.
"Pirx, everything is fine," is apparently translated into dog speak as "Go hide - the world is exploding" as he quickly ran back into the bathroom and I observed what the odd sounds were before, as he awkwardly climbed into the bathtub again.
Corwin of course was still screaming like someone was trying to rip off his limbs. I called out to him but since he couldn't see me he kept shrieking. As I tried to reattach the smoke detector, stupid flecks of sprayed on builder's popcorn ceiling rained down into my eye. I must have been quite a sight, dressed in only my nursing bra and pajama bottoms, standing on a stool in the middle of the hall cursing and trying to soothe a screaming child and convince my dog that it's not the end of the world.
Finally it was attached and the screaming had not let up. Pirx was still hiding and but thankfully it was no longer beeping. I decided that the moment needed some documentation so I grabbed my camera and produced the following photos from my late evening.
I returned to Corwin after the photo session and picked him up and tried to go back to soothing and nursing. After he'd take a few sucks, he'd pull off and cry at me again, reiterating his disgruntled position and the horrible treatment he had to endure. It was close to midnight by the time he quieted down and I decided that reading was not in the cards and turned out the light.
Pirx's ears perked up and he lay on the bed with his head up looking alarmed. Corwin had pulled off my breast and was also alert to this new and unfamiliar noise. I encouraged Corwin to continue nursing and tried to settle Pirx down again.
"Beep!"
Pirx was up and out of bed quickly and Corwin had pulled off again, confused at the noise. Pirx was already displaying his panicky tendency when we have power outages and he hears a similar beeping sound (I believe from the batteries hooked up to our desktop computers). He skulked to our bathroom and finding no place "safe" he looked at me as I tried to get Corwin to nurse.
"Beep!"
And with that last beep Corwin clamped down with all six of his teeth on my breast. "OWWWWW!" I yelled as I yanked my mangled nipple out of his mouth. Corwin looked at me absolutely freaked out and horrified and opened his mouth wide and started wailing, big tears forming and rolling out of his eyes. Damnit!! By this time, Pirx had run into our main bath and I heard some strange and unfamiliar noises coming from there. I tried to soothe Corwin, but then
"Beep!"
"Bloody hell," I said and plunked a screaming and crying Corwin into his crib. I peeked into the main bath as I headed down the stairs to find a replacement battery. Pirx had managed to get himself into the tub (an absolute first since he was a pup and had a bath in there) and was cowering behind the shower curtain. I chuckled to myself at my brave dog as I went to the basement to find a 9V battery.
Through continuous wailing from Corwin, I was grateful to find a new battery in the basement and got prepared to eliminate the beeping. Pirx had run out of the bathroom at some point and as I got back to the top of the stairs, he was standing in our bedroom doorway trembling in absolute terror.
"Pirx, everything is fine," is apparently translated into dog speak as "Go hide - the world is exploding" as he quickly ran back into the bathroom and I observed what the odd sounds were before, as he awkwardly climbed into the bathtub again.
Corwin of course was still screaming like someone was trying to rip off his limbs. I called out to him but since he couldn't see me he kept shrieking. As I tried to reattach the smoke detector, stupid flecks of sprayed on builder's popcorn ceiling rained down into my eye. I must have been quite a sight, dressed in only my nursing bra and pajama bottoms, standing on a stool in the middle of the hall cursing and trying to soothe a screaming child and convince my dog that it's not the end of the world.
Finally it was attached and the screaming had not let up. Pirx was still hiding and but thankfully it was no longer beeping. I decided that the moment needed some documentation so I grabbed my camera and produced the following photos from my late evening.
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