Here is Past Deadline from Jan. 31/13 published in The Perth Courier.
I don’t hear anything
Saturday at my house is laundry day. Sometimes I like to squeeze in a load or two during the week, but in this particular week I saved it all up like any good hoarder and made Saturday an official Laundry Event™. My life is exciting that way.
Ahem.
I loaded up Ye Olde Clothes Washing Machine and was somewhat alarmed as it kicked into gear. It was making a strange noise. I stood there for a couple of minutes, hands on hips, scowling, and listened. Oh, dear.
Maybe it was because I hadn’t used it for a week and it was feeling sluggish? Maybe the water was a bit more frigid than usual (quite likely!) and it was complaining a little?
What to do? Do I stop the machine? Call upon Groom-boy? Call upon someone who might actually know what to do? Panic?
So I did what any high-functioning adult does these days – I turned to social media. I posted: “If I pretend I don’t hear the funny sound my washing machine is making, it’ll go away, right?”
I had a variety of responses, such as “Yes” and “Think positively.” One suggestion was to give it a “good kick” and another was to “stop doing laundry.”
My favourite by far was from the Rising King of One Liners, my little bro: “Turn the radio up. It works with my car.”
Yessss!
I may be regressing into my teenage years because more and more I am finding loud music to be a tonic for a lot of things. I have always liked to listen to music while working. When I need to do something terribly cerebral I turn to classical, but lately I have been relying on my running playlist to get the job done.
Back when my Stupid Foot™ wasn’t so stupid and I was happily engrossed in the adrenalin rush/stress-release that was running, I compiled a great collection of music on a playlist I call “Run Forrest Run.”
The title is inspired by the movie Forrest Gump – the part when Forrest decides to run across the country. See, running was never effortless for me, so sometimes 5K felt a bit like a marathon. “Run Forrest Run” is quite a mixed bag. It includes nostalgia stuff from the ’80s and ’90s, some unusual stuff, songs that remind me of dancing up a storm with friends at university and enough new stuff that if my kids stumble upon it they might say, “Hey, Mom’s not as dorky as we thought!” It has a lot of fast-paced material and a smattering of slower stuff in strategic spots to enable one to catch one’s breath as they pound out a 5K.
These days it is good walking music and also decent for the stationary bike, but I find I am turning to it often as I toil at my desk. If I am working on a big deadline or a large document, sticking in the earphones and playing “Run Forrest Run” is an excellent way to pass the miles. I mean time.
It also works well if one is trying to meet a deadline while a boisterous play date is happening elsewhere in the house, but this is only recommended if there is another competent adult in the vicinity who is paying attention to the chaos.
Just as I was about ready to crank up the tunes on laundry day, the washer stopped making the funny noise and all was well.
Phew.
For at least the foreseeable future, it appears my Laundry Events will carry on as usual. Given the sheer volume of the task, however, I might do the loud music thing anyway….
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
Saturday, January 26, 2013
Past Deadline: What Flavour is Grey?
Here is this week’s Past Deadline, published in The Perth Courier on Jan. 24/13.
What flavour is grey?
My palate has not grown up. Or maybe it has. I dunno, but you can bet I am going to try to work it all out in this here space!
I’ve said before that I’ll eat anything as long as someone else cooks it. There are some limits to this – I mean, I won’t eat spoiled stuff or food that sets my mouth on fire and such, but I get a little thrill when someone other than me prepares a meal and takes away the dishes. Oh, yeah.
It makes me less picky. I mean, we’re talking about someone who, while in the hospital having her babies, thought the fare was just fine. Heck, someone brought me food three times a day and cleaned up afterwards. It was great!
I hadn’t really thought much about the refinement of my palate, but I was recently at a business-type event with about 300 people. It featured a buffet dinner in a large hall. There was quite a selection of food – from appetizers and salads to a variety of main courses.
I tried a little bit of almost everything and, really, there wasn’t anything I didn’t like. I shovelled it in gratefully because someone else made it, someone else cleared the plates and – even better – I didn’t have to pay for it or have a baby to get it.
The only thing that occurred to me as I ate was that it was nice to have some different veggies other than the usual assortment I stick to at home to please all the tender little palates there.
After the main course and before the dessert, there was chitchat at our table about the meal. One wasn’t crazy about the veggies, another found the food wasn’t hot enough, some gave it a tepid review.
I paused. I was content. Why was I content? What is wrong with me? Was the food warm enough? Were the veggies actually odd?
I just couldn’t think of anything in particular to say about the meal. I found it…fine!
It was time for the dessert table, which featured an array of fresh fruit, squares, tarts, cakes slices and tiramisu-type thingies.
I selected some fruit and checked out the cake slices. They were layered and looked very light – more like mousse. Some appeared to have chocolate layers, but I chose something with a greenish tint, thinking there might be some lime flavouring.
I got back to the table and everyone was chatting as we ate. As I tucked into the cake I noticed that, in the lighting at the table, it looked as if the layers were more greyish than greenish. Interesting.
Others noticed, too. “What flavour is that?” someone asked.
I chewed thoughtfully. I had no idea. It was light and sweet. I could taste a tiny hint of vanilla, but other than that it was just light and sweet.
“I honestly don’t know,” I said.
A few people seemed wary of the girl munching on the grey cake. To put everyone at ease, I assured them it didn’t taste moldy or bad in any way. We agreed it was probably just food colouring and moved on with our lives.
So, yeah. I eat grey cake and don’t give it much thought. Apparently I’ll eat what’s on my plate – warm or cold, strange or not – as long as someone else makes it.
Besides, when it’s a free, buffet-style meal for hundreds of people, how picky can you get?
Maybe my palate could use some refining, but possibly I’m also good at adjusting my expectation level. That could, for example, explain why the hospital food was a hit.
Or maybe I just need to get out more….
What flavour is grey?
My palate has not grown up. Or maybe it has. I dunno, but you can bet I am going to try to work it all out in this here space!
I’ve said before that I’ll eat anything as long as someone else cooks it. There are some limits to this – I mean, I won’t eat spoiled stuff or food that sets my mouth on fire and such, but I get a little thrill when someone other than me prepares a meal and takes away the dishes. Oh, yeah.
It makes me less picky. I mean, we’re talking about someone who, while in the hospital having her babies, thought the fare was just fine. Heck, someone brought me food three times a day and cleaned up afterwards. It was great!
I hadn’t really thought much about the refinement of my palate, but I was recently at a business-type event with about 300 people. It featured a buffet dinner in a large hall. There was quite a selection of food – from appetizers and salads to a variety of main courses.
I tried a little bit of almost everything and, really, there wasn’t anything I didn’t like. I shovelled it in gratefully because someone else made it, someone else cleared the plates and – even better – I didn’t have to pay for it or have a baby to get it.
The only thing that occurred to me as I ate was that it was nice to have some different veggies other than the usual assortment I stick to at home to please all the tender little palates there.
After the main course and before the dessert, there was chitchat at our table about the meal. One wasn’t crazy about the veggies, another found the food wasn’t hot enough, some gave it a tepid review.
I paused. I was content. Why was I content? What is wrong with me? Was the food warm enough? Were the veggies actually odd?
I just couldn’t think of anything in particular to say about the meal. I found it…fine!
It was time for the dessert table, which featured an array of fresh fruit, squares, tarts, cakes slices and tiramisu-type thingies.
I selected some fruit and checked out the cake slices. They were layered and looked very light – more like mousse. Some appeared to have chocolate layers, but I chose something with a greenish tint, thinking there might be some lime flavouring.
I got back to the table and everyone was chatting as we ate. As I tucked into the cake I noticed that, in the lighting at the table, it looked as if the layers were more greyish than greenish. Interesting.
Others noticed, too. “What flavour is that?” someone asked.
I chewed thoughtfully. I had no idea. It was light and sweet. I could taste a tiny hint of vanilla, but other than that it was just light and sweet.
“I honestly don’t know,” I said.
A few people seemed wary of the girl munching on the grey cake. To put everyone at ease, I assured them it didn’t taste moldy or bad in any way. We agreed it was probably just food colouring and moved on with our lives.
So, yeah. I eat grey cake and don’t give it much thought. Apparently I’ll eat what’s on my plate – warm or cold, strange or not – as long as someone else makes it.
Besides, when it’s a free, buffet-style meal for hundreds of people, how picky can you get?
Maybe my palate could use some refining, but possibly I’m also good at adjusting my expectation level. That could, for example, explain why the hospital food was a hit.
Or maybe I just need to get out more….
Thursday, January 10, 2013
Past Deadline: Resolutions Revisited
Here is the latest “Past Deadline,” published in The Perth Courier on Jan. 10/13.
Resolutions revisited
As I write this, we are about a week into the new year and I feel inclined to provide an update on how those fantastic New Year’s “Revolutions” are working out.
Or not working out, as the case may be.
I decided to do this in part because it is snowing again. See, last week I wrote about snow and how much I like it in the winter. One of the brilliant gems I uttered was this: “Another reason I prefer snow is because it’s easier to get the kids outside. It has been awesome lately for fort building – those chunks of snow make great blocks.”
It all sounds very good, and the theory is solid, but the practice is proving to be, well, let’s just say my kids rarely decide on their own to just go outside – they usually have to be told. This is especially true for the oldest one, who sometimes needs to be pried away from the computer. (To her credit, Girlchild recently built a beautiful snow girl and snow dog who gaze happily at me when I am at the kitchen window.)
On a bright sunny day near the end of the Christmas break, I herded the youngsters outside by suggesting we build a snow mountain in the back yard that they could slide down. This led to a second snow pile that Girlchild used to make a fort. Suddenly the magic and versatility of snow was revealed and they spent two hours outside. You’d think they’d been living in Florida for the last decade.
I saw something on the Interwebs recently – can’t remember where – that said: “When I was a kid I only had one toy. It was called ‘outside.’”
So true. This is such a lost generation. It is up to us to teach our children “the Old Ways,” and that means opening the back door and gesturing broadly to the back yard. “Look, little ones! Grass! Trees! Flowers! Birds! Fresh air! Take these sticks and build something! Take this broom and pretend it is a horse and ride it! Stare at the clouds! Climb a tree! Make a mud pie! Ride a bike!”
I know I have no one to blame but myself for letting it come to this, although I also know I am not alone. Many parents are tackling the “nature deficit.”
That all said, I am inclined to add an addendum to my resolutions: “Get the kids outside!” My goal is for them to want to choose to go outside – not for it to be a chore that Mommy makes them do. And maybe that means unplugging a few screens around the house and meaning business about it.
Wish me luck.
As for the rest of the “revolutions,” my progress on that front has been…well…poor. I am going to blame the holidays because, as I write this, the kids are still off and routines are disrupted. Our sleep patterns are weird and we are still confronted with a variety of Christmas goodies lying around. It would be a crime to waste them.
Still…my pants are shrinking. I have to do something about this because a new wardrobe will break the budget. By the time you read this, I hope I will have done some form of decent exercise every day this week – something other than shovelling.
Also, here’s another addendum that was glaringly omitted from the list: “Eat less.” Seriously. Get a grip, woman! The number on the scale is startling!
The remaining resolution was “Don’t freak out in the face of change, conflict or difficulty.” Perhaps I should amend that to add: “but DO freak out about not going outside, not exercising and not eating less.”
Okay, everyone! Let’s go make a snow fort!
Resolutions revisited
As I write this, we are about a week into the new year and I feel inclined to provide an update on how those fantastic New Year’s “Revolutions” are working out.
Or not working out, as the case may be.
I decided to do this in part because it is snowing again. See, last week I wrote about snow and how much I like it in the winter. One of the brilliant gems I uttered was this: “Another reason I prefer snow is because it’s easier to get the kids outside. It has been awesome lately for fort building – those chunks of snow make great blocks.”
It all sounds very good, and the theory is solid, but the practice is proving to be, well, let’s just say my kids rarely decide on their own to just go outside – they usually have to be told. This is especially true for the oldest one, who sometimes needs to be pried away from the computer. (To her credit, Girlchild recently built a beautiful snow girl and snow dog who gaze happily at me when I am at the kitchen window.)
On a bright sunny day near the end of the Christmas break, I herded the youngsters outside by suggesting we build a snow mountain in the back yard that they could slide down. This led to a second snow pile that Girlchild used to make a fort. Suddenly the magic and versatility of snow was revealed and they spent two hours outside. You’d think they’d been living in Florida for the last decade.
I saw something on the Interwebs recently – can’t remember where – that said: “When I was a kid I only had one toy. It was called ‘outside.’”
So true. This is such a lost generation. It is up to us to teach our children “the Old Ways,” and that means opening the back door and gesturing broadly to the back yard. “Look, little ones! Grass! Trees! Flowers! Birds! Fresh air! Take these sticks and build something! Take this broom and pretend it is a horse and ride it! Stare at the clouds! Climb a tree! Make a mud pie! Ride a bike!”
I know I have no one to blame but myself for letting it come to this, although I also know I am not alone. Many parents are tackling the “nature deficit.”
That all said, I am inclined to add an addendum to my resolutions: “Get the kids outside!” My goal is for them to want to choose to go outside – not for it to be a chore that Mommy makes them do. And maybe that means unplugging a few screens around the house and meaning business about it.
Wish me luck.
As for the rest of the “revolutions,” my progress on that front has been…well…poor. I am going to blame the holidays because, as I write this, the kids are still off and routines are disrupted. Our sleep patterns are weird and we are still confronted with a variety of Christmas goodies lying around. It would be a crime to waste them.
Still…my pants are shrinking. I have to do something about this because a new wardrobe will break the budget. By the time you read this, I hope I will have done some form of decent exercise every day this week – something other than shovelling.
Also, here’s another addendum that was glaringly omitted from the list: “Eat less.” Seriously. Get a grip, woman! The number on the scale is startling!
The remaining resolution was “Don’t freak out in the face of change, conflict or difficulty.” Perhaps I should amend that to add: “but DO freak out about not going outside, not exercising and not eating less.”
Okay, everyone! Let’s go make a snow fort!
Friday, January 4, 2013
Past Deadline: The Great Goop Storm of 2012
Here’s this week’s “Past Deadline,” published in The Perth Courier on Jan. 3/13. Does shovelling count as exercise for my New Year’s resolutions?
The Great Goop Storm of 2012
“Snow. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the shoveller Stephanie. Her continuing mission: to uncover old, existing pavement, to seek out various porches and sweep off satellite dishes, to boldly go where she always goes after it snows….”
I’ve said it before – I don’t mind winter, even though I am not an avid winter sports person (“avid” and “sports” seldom go together in a sentence for me). I live in a part of Canada where winter is winter and I’ve come to expect snow. It brightens up the place and makes it pretty in the dark months.
The shovelling part can kinda stink, though.
As I write this, snow is gently falling on what undoubtedly would have been a snow day if the kids were in school. It is the second biggish winter storm, but the snow is about 500 times lighter than the first one.
Y’all remember the first storm before Christmas? The one that featured all manner of goop falling from the sky?
That was heavy stuff!
I loved how the first layer was freezing rain and water with a top layer of very wet snow. As you dug down to scoop up a small shovel-full (because a big scoop would either a. weigh 245 pounds and hurt your back or b. break the shovel), you were greeted with that layer of sticky watery goop at the bottom that actually stuck to the shovel.
Clearing porches and driveways and sidewalks (oh my!) was no easy feat. My shoulders ached for a good two days. (Thank you, ibuprofen.)
Foliage also needed rescue. Cedar hedges that withstood the Great Ice Storm of 1998 fell victim to the Great Goop Storm of 2012.
In a typical winter, we shake the snow off the cedar hedge that surrounds my in-laws’ backyard once or twice as it builds up, but this storm required urgent action. Boychild and I went out, armed with rakes, and clawed huge chunks of frozen goop off the hedge.
After that, my hands ached for about four days. Jeepers, it stinks getting older!
My other favourite part of that particular winter event was the next day. The town plows came through in the night and the temperature started to drop, so the next task was to remove the frozen ice boulders from the end of the driveway.
I felt as if I were working in the Silver Queen Mine – chopping away at icy rocks and hauling them off a bit at a time. Black powder might have been more effective.
Despite the achiness of the occasion, I’m still happy to see snow instead of freezing rain. I worry that as our climate changes, we’ll see less of this brightness and more freezing rain and darkness. Given my history of falling and busting my butt on indoor stairs, I’d rather not take chances with icy ones.
Another reason I prefer snow is because it’s easier to get the kids outside. It has been awesome lately for fort building – those chunks of snow make great blocks.
I am also trying to groom (mostly unsuccessfully at the moment) a pair of assistant snow shovellers. Seems they were much keener to shovel when they were younger, but I haven’t given up. Boychild tried to help with the Great Goop, but it was pretty heavy and he didn’t last long. (I felt his pain.)
I wonder how I will feel about snow in a decade or so when the assistant shovellers are grown and I’m that much older and achier?
Hopefully I will still view it as that frontier to be explored. Best to live in the moment I think….
The Great Goop Storm of 2012
“Snow. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the shoveller Stephanie. Her continuing mission: to uncover old, existing pavement, to seek out various porches and sweep off satellite dishes, to boldly go where she always goes after it snows….”
I’ve said it before – I don’t mind winter, even though I am not an avid winter sports person (“avid” and “sports” seldom go together in a sentence for me). I live in a part of Canada where winter is winter and I’ve come to expect snow. It brightens up the place and makes it pretty in the dark months.
The shovelling part can kinda stink, though.
As I write this, snow is gently falling on what undoubtedly would have been a snow day if the kids were in school. It is the second biggish winter storm, but the snow is about 500 times lighter than the first one.
Y’all remember the first storm before Christmas? The one that featured all manner of goop falling from the sky?
That was heavy stuff!
I loved how the first layer was freezing rain and water with a top layer of very wet snow. As you dug down to scoop up a small shovel-full (because a big scoop would either a. weigh 245 pounds and hurt your back or b. break the shovel), you were greeted with that layer of sticky watery goop at the bottom that actually stuck to the shovel.
Clearing porches and driveways and sidewalks (oh my!) was no easy feat. My shoulders ached for a good two days. (Thank you, ibuprofen.)
Foliage also needed rescue. Cedar hedges that withstood the Great Ice Storm of 1998 fell victim to the Great Goop Storm of 2012.
In a typical winter, we shake the snow off the cedar hedge that surrounds my in-laws’ backyard once or twice as it builds up, but this storm required urgent action. Boychild and I went out, armed with rakes, and clawed huge chunks of frozen goop off the hedge.
After that, my hands ached for about four days. Jeepers, it stinks getting older!
My other favourite part of that particular winter event was the next day. The town plows came through in the night and the temperature started to drop, so the next task was to remove the frozen ice boulders from the end of the driveway.
I felt as if I were working in the Silver Queen Mine – chopping away at icy rocks and hauling them off a bit at a time. Black powder might have been more effective.
Despite the achiness of the occasion, I’m still happy to see snow instead of freezing rain. I worry that as our climate changes, we’ll see less of this brightness and more freezing rain and darkness. Given my history of falling and busting my butt on indoor stairs, I’d rather not take chances with icy ones.
Another reason I prefer snow is because it’s easier to get the kids outside. It has been awesome lately for fort building – those chunks of snow make great blocks.
I am also trying to groom (mostly unsuccessfully at the moment) a pair of assistant snow shovellers. Seems they were much keener to shovel when they were younger, but I haven’t given up. Boychild tried to help with the Great Goop, but it was pretty heavy and he didn’t last long. (I felt his pain.)
I wonder how I will feel about snow in a decade or so when the assistant shovellers are grown and I’m that much older and achier?
Hopefully I will still view it as that frontier to be explored. Best to live in the moment I think….
Past Deadline: The Revolutions of 2013
Here is the final edition of “Past Deadline” for 2012, published Dec. 27/12 in The Perth Courier. Happy New Year, everyone!
The Revolutions of 2013
As one year winds down and we head into a new one, it’s time to reflect on those New Year’s Revolutions and see if I did what I said I was going to do and hatch a sinister plan to do a whole bunch of stuff in the new year.
Some years I get quite aggressive with my “live well and save the world” promises. Other years I strive for achievable goals, such as “stop eating sugar straight from the bag.” (No problem!)
Let’s reflect on the results of 2012.
Last year I opted to return to an exercise resolution. This was particularly important given the fact I have a Stupid Foot™ that collapsed in 2011, compelling me to abandon some of my favourite types of exercise.
Well, that resolution was a spectacular fail! Even though the foot feels better, it is not better enough for running. Walking seems to have fallen off the roster, too. The stationary bike has been idle. The swimming pool has only seen me as a spectator.
Clearly, this needs to be addressed, and fast. Exercising – actually doing it – is the number one item for 2013, assuming the world hasn’t ended, of course.
On a better note, I am pleased to report that, for the most part, I maintained an aggressive Hair Management Program™, which is to say I tried to avoid looking like a skunk when all the white hair started to show up. Not much of a life-altering, world-saving resolution, however, it is important to celebrate small achievements in order to bolster morale.
Maintaining a skunk-free image is incentive enough that I don’t actually have to indoctrinate it – so I’m not going to bother including it for 2013.
The third one from last year, however, bears repeating. It was “Don’t freak out in the face of change.”
I have learned to accept that change is constant. Some change is good. Other change – not so much. How we deal with it is the important thing.
A big example – something that has affected so many people – is the economy. Jobs are lost, positions are changing and people have to do things differently. The only thing you can really do is find a way to make it work.
I’m going to keep that resolution because it is a work in progress, and I am going to add “conflict or difficulty” to the end of it.
Sometimes we find ourselves in roles that attract conflict and difficulty and, in my experience, flying off into orbit does not necessarily help the situation. (It is also not very practical – space missions can break the budget.)
Under the “difficulty” category, I have found this “not freaking out” thing to be important when it comes to deadlines, too.
For example, every December a whole bunch of work deadlines converge for me, like planets aligning, and there’s not a darned thing I can do about it. So, as December approaches, I complete as much as I can in advance, then take a deep breath and bury myself in an intense workload for two weeks or so, knowing as I go that there will be light at the end of the tunnel. Adrenalin, momentum and coffee keep me going. My family has learned to ignore the crazy lady at the desk.
The December deadline thing is probably as close as I will ever come to running a marathon. Unfortunately, that type of marathon does nothing for muscle tone and does not count toward the exercise resolution.
There you have it. No new revolutions, just recycled ones. That’s all the “change” I can handle!
Happy New Year, everyone! And please save the world – it needs our help.
The Revolutions of 2013
As one year winds down and we head into a new one, it’s time to reflect on those New Year’s Revolutions and see if I did what I said I was going to do and hatch a sinister plan to do a whole bunch of stuff in the new year.
Some years I get quite aggressive with my “live well and save the world” promises. Other years I strive for achievable goals, such as “stop eating sugar straight from the bag.” (No problem!)
Let’s reflect on the results of 2012.
Last year I opted to return to an exercise resolution. This was particularly important given the fact I have a Stupid Foot™ that collapsed in 2011, compelling me to abandon some of my favourite types of exercise.
Well, that resolution was a spectacular fail! Even though the foot feels better, it is not better enough for running. Walking seems to have fallen off the roster, too. The stationary bike has been idle. The swimming pool has only seen me as a spectator.
Clearly, this needs to be addressed, and fast. Exercising – actually doing it – is the number one item for 2013, assuming the world hasn’t ended, of course.
On a better note, I am pleased to report that, for the most part, I maintained an aggressive Hair Management Program™, which is to say I tried to avoid looking like a skunk when all the white hair started to show up. Not much of a life-altering, world-saving resolution, however, it is important to celebrate small achievements in order to bolster morale.
Maintaining a skunk-free image is incentive enough that I don’t actually have to indoctrinate it – so I’m not going to bother including it for 2013.
The third one from last year, however, bears repeating. It was “Don’t freak out in the face of change.”
I have learned to accept that change is constant. Some change is good. Other change – not so much. How we deal with it is the important thing.
A big example – something that has affected so many people – is the economy. Jobs are lost, positions are changing and people have to do things differently. The only thing you can really do is find a way to make it work.
I’m going to keep that resolution because it is a work in progress, and I am going to add “conflict or difficulty” to the end of it.
Sometimes we find ourselves in roles that attract conflict and difficulty and, in my experience, flying off into orbit does not necessarily help the situation. (It is also not very practical – space missions can break the budget.)
Under the “difficulty” category, I have found this “not freaking out” thing to be important when it comes to deadlines, too.
For example, every December a whole bunch of work deadlines converge for me, like planets aligning, and there’s not a darned thing I can do about it. So, as December approaches, I complete as much as I can in advance, then take a deep breath and bury myself in an intense workload for two weeks or so, knowing as I go that there will be light at the end of the tunnel. Adrenalin, momentum and coffee keep me going. My family has learned to ignore the crazy lady at the desk.
The December deadline thing is probably as close as I will ever come to running a marathon. Unfortunately, that type of marathon does nothing for muscle tone and does not count toward the exercise resolution.
There you have it. No new revolutions, just recycled ones. That’s all the “change” I can handle!
Happy New Year, everyone! And please save the world – it needs our help.
Sunday, December 23, 2012
Past Deadline: 'Twas the Night Before Christmas
Wishing everyone a very Merry Christmas. Hope you enjoy my annual contribution for the season! (Published in The Perth Courier, Dec. 20/12).
’Twas the Night Before Christmas
Christmas is mere moments away, which means it’s time to butcher a classic poem once again and conjure up my favourite seasonal sprite for the 2012 version! My apologies, as always, to Clement Clark Moore….
’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Mama searched for a rhyme that was not the word “grouse.”
“Galldarnit!” she cried. “There is so much to do! What’s with all these deadlines? I need a whole crew!
“There’s writing and marking and editing – oh my!
“December’s so busy I might break down and cry!”
She gazed all around at the state of the home
And as the clock ticked she started to moan.
The Christmas cards waited, the presents weren’t wrapped
It might have to be done while everyone napped.
The groceries weren’t purchased, the eggnog not bought,
And without all those goodies one could be overwrought.
There were stockings to hang, some garland to string, a turkey to thaw and carols to sing.
At least with a Girlchild whose patience was low, the tree was a-glitter and ready to go. (Thanks to ample nagging in November.)
And just as the panic started to rise,
A wonderful sight came to Mama’s eyes.
In the kitchen she started to see a small glow,
And as she looked on it continued to grow.
Mama smiled. “Could it be?” she asked the thin air.
“Has my fairy returned? Do I hope? Do I dare?”
And with a loud pop her wish became true:
The Stress-Free Holiday Fairy™ in a kitchen near you!
With a wink and a grin she tapped Mama’s arm,
“Your annual struggle never loses its charm!
“I do like to visit and help you all out,
“But your ability to learn leaves me in doubt.”
Mama looked puzzled and felt slightly perplexed.
“But what do you mean? I hope you’re not vexed!” (Cool! Perplexed and vexed!)
“Not at all!” said the fairy, “I’m just trying to help
“Because your annual problem is as common as kelp.
“The issue, you see, comes down to routine. I see that you’ve got one, but it’s far from pristine.”
And with that the Fairy brandished her wand
And conjured a date book for now and beyond.
“You see in October your workload is steady,
“But not so busy that you cannot get ready.
“Plan ahead, my dear, so when December comes,
“You won’t have to panic – you won’t have the glums.”
“Pshaw!” Mama said. “I’ll never succeed
“In thinking of Christmas when it’s autumn indeed!
“Besides,” she said smugly, “there’s something about
“All those early shoppers that gives me the gout.”
The Fairy just stood there. “You’re being a goof.
“You’re just being stubborn, and I’ve had enoof.” (Sometimes the Fairy has a Scottish accent, you know.)
“I’ll help you this time and I’ll be back next year,
“But it would be a nice change if it were for some cheer!”
With that the Fairy lifted her wand
And before Mama knew it she’d already gone.
The presents, the groceries – everything was ready
And suddenly Mama felt a lot more steady.
She smiled when she heard the last call of the sprite,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Boychild, Girlchild, Groom-boy and I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and all the best in 2013!
’Twas the Night Before Christmas
Christmas is mere moments away, which means it’s time to butcher a classic poem once again and conjure up my favourite seasonal sprite for the 2012 version! My apologies, as always, to Clement Clark Moore….
’Twas the night before Christmas and all through the house,
Mama searched for a rhyme that was not the word “grouse.”
“Galldarnit!” she cried. “There is so much to do! What’s with all these deadlines? I need a whole crew!
“There’s writing and marking and editing – oh my!
“December’s so busy I might break down and cry!”
She gazed all around at the state of the home
And as the clock ticked she started to moan.
The Christmas cards waited, the presents weren’t wrapped
It might have to be done while everyone napped.
The groceries weren’t purchased, the eggnog not bought,
And without all those goodies one could be overwrought.
There were stockings to hang, some garland to string, a turkey to thaw and carols to sing.
At least with a Girlchild whose patience was low, the tree was a-glitter and ready to go. (Thanks to ample nagging in November.)
And just as the panic started to rise,
A wonderful sight came to Mama’s eyes.
In the kitchen she started to see a small glow,
And as she looked on it continued to grow.
Mama smiled. “Could it be?” she asked the thin air.
“Has my fairy returned? Do I hope? Do I dare?”
And with a loud pop her wish became true:
The Stress-Free Holiday Fairy™ in a kitchen near you!
With a wink and a grin she tapped Mama’s arm,
“Your annual struggle never loses its charm!
“I do like to visit and help you all out,
“But your ability to learn leaves me in doubt.”
Mama looked puzzled and felt slightly perplexed.
“But what do you mean? I hope you’re not vexed!” (Cool! Perplexed and vexed!)
“Not at all!” said the fairy, “I’m just trying to help
“Because your annual problem is as common as kelp.
“The issue, you see, comes down to routine. I see that you’ve got one, but it’s far from pristine.”
And with that the Fairy brandished her wand
And conjured a date book for now and beyond.
“You see in October your workload is steady,
“But not so busy that you cannot get ready.
“Plan ahead, my dear, so when December comes,
“You won’t have to panic – you won’t have the glums.”
“Pshaw!” Mama said. “I’ll never succeed
“In thinking of Christmas when it’s autumn indeed!
“Besides,” she said smugly, “there’s something about
“All those early shoppers that gives me the gout.”
The Fairy just stood there. “You’re being a goof.
“You’re just being stubborn, and I’ve had enoof.” (Sometimes the Fairy has a Scottish accent, you know.)
“I’ll help you this time and I’ll be back next year,
“But it would be a nice change if it were for some cheer!”
With that the Fairy lifted her wand
And before Mama knew it she’d already gone.
The presents, the groceries – everything was ready
And suddenly Mama felt a lot more steady.
She smiled when she heard the last call of the sprite,
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Boychild, Girlchild, Groom-boy and I wish you all a very Merry Christmas and all the best in 2013!
Friday, December 21, 2012
Past Deadline: Beavers Taking Over the World?
Here is “Past Deadline” from Dec. 13 in The Perth Courier.
Beavers taking over the world?
With the whole “end of the world” prophecy coming up on us in a week or so, I thought this might be a good time for some deep reflection.
I mean, I have been percolating along as if the world is not going to end. I have plans to do stuff after Dec. 21. I am proceeding with Christmas shopping. The tree and decorations are up. There is a grocery list for next week pinned to the fridge.
Nevertheless, I can’t help but think about something that was suggested to me recently and I wonder if it is more than just a coincidence given all this doomsday stuff:
Are beavers plotting to take over the world?
You may recall that a few weeks ago I was stumped for a column idea, so I posted a plea on Facebook. The beaver question was posted by my brother, and I think this is a fine time to explore it.
I mean, really. What is UP with beavers? They are SO busy!
Beavers have big, scary teeth that they use to cut down trees. These lumberjacks of the wild do so in order to have lumber to build dams, which creates a pond in which they build their lodges, store food piles underwater in winter, and use for protection from predators. They use some trees for food.
The Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources website indicates beavers cut down an average of 216 trees per year – some of which are up to 40 centimetres in diameter.
Ask any property owner about those felled trees, and he or she will doubtless concur it is a lot of damage.
It’s not really the tree loss that might make one think this industrious mammal has a secret plan to take over the world – it’s the darned dams.
Beavers are prolific builders. Some say the sound of trickling water stimulates their urge to build, and we all know there is a lot of trickling water in this world.
Oh, indeed, these busy critters have demonstrated time and again their affinity for creating their own infrastructure and disrupting ours. Their dams flood properties and wash out roads. They create disruption and stress.
What IS their end game, anyway? I mean, once they obliterate the countryside and move into the cities, what is the point? Are they suddenly going to reveal themselves as ferocious carnivores that only ate foliage as a clever front?
Humans have fought back, for sure. Beavers have been eliminated from large parts of their original range thanks to trapping in the early 19th century. In fact, the quest for beaver pelts is credited for much of the early exploration of this continent. Arguably, if Europeans hadn’t had a love for beaver hats, the little rodent might have taken over this continent by now.
It is a humbling thought. What a watery world it might have been!
Aw, I’m just joshin’. I like beavers and I don’t think we are in imminent peril from them, although those teeth look kind of nasty and I know there was a story in this paper a few months back about a local guy bitten by a beaver.
Nevertheless, I have to say I am much more leery of insects. I think ants, ticks, fleas, lice and cockroaches are much more likely to take over the world. If they ever form an alliance I, for one, would most certainly be driven over the edge by their combined strength.
Thank you, brother Doug, for bringing this important concern to our attention. I am so glad to have this aired.
Next week: Are dust bunnies plotting to take over my house? (Okay, maybe not….)
Beavers taking over the world?
With the whole “end of the world” prophecy coming up on us in a week or so, I thought this might be a good time for some deep reflection.
I mean, I have been percolating along as if the world is not going to end. I have plans to do stuff after Dec. 21. I am proceeding with Christmas shopping. The tree and decorations are up. There is a grocery list for next week pinned to the fridge.
Nevertheless, I can’t help but think about something that was suggested to me recently and I wonder if it is more than just a coincidence given all this doomsday stuff:
Are beavers plotting to take over the world?
You may recall that a few weeks ago I was stumped for a column idea, so I posted a plea on Facebook. The beaver question was posted by my brother, and I think this is a fine time to explore it.
I mean, really. What is UP with beavers? They are SO busy!
Beavers have big, scary teeth that they use to cut down trees. These lumberjacks of the wild do so in order to have lumber to build dams, which creates a pond in which they build their lodges, store food piles underwater in winter, and use for protection from predators. They use some trees for food.
The Ontario Ministry of Natural Resources website indicates beavers cut down an average of 216 trees per year – some of which are up to 40 centimetres in diameter.
Ask any property owner about those felled trees, and he or she will doubtless concur it is a lot of damage.
It’s not really the tree loss that might make one think this industrious mammal has a secret plan to take over the world – it’s the darned dams.
Beavers are prolific builders. Some say the sound of trickling water stimulates their urge to build, and we all know there is a lot of trickling water in this world.
Oh, indeed, these busy critters have demonstrated time and again their affinity for creating their own infrastructure and disrupting ours. Their dams flood properties and wash out roads. They create disruption and stress.
What IS their end game, anyway? I mean, once they obliterate the countryside and move into the cities, what is the point? Are they suddenly going to reveal themselves as ferocious carnivores that only ate foliage as a clever front?
Humans have fought back, for sure. Beavers have been eliminated from large parts of their original range thanks to trapping in the early 19th century. In fact, the quest for beaver pelts is credited for much of the early exploration of this continent. Arguably, if Europeans hadn’t had a love for beaver hats, the little rodent might have taken over this continent by now.
It is a humbling thought. What a watery world it might have been!
Aw, I’m just joshin’. I like beavers and I don’t think we are in imminent peril from them, although those teeth look kind of nasty and I know there was a story in this paper a few months back about a local guy bitten by a beaver.
Nevertheless, I have to say I am much more leery of insects. I think ants, ticks, fleas, lice and cockroaches are much more likely to take over the world. If they ever form an alliance I, for one, would most certainly be driven over the edge by their combined strength.
Thank you, brother Doug, for bringing this important concern to our attention. I am so glad to have this aired.
Next week: Are dust bunnies plotting to take over my house? (Okay, maybe not….)
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