Thursday, August 31, 2006
I love Halloween. I dressed up all the way through highschool in elaborate all hallow's eve garb and went trick or treating. Now - not only do I get to dress myself -- but I also get to dress my short people. I have just completed the most incredible fairy princess costume that ever was - or will be. Now onto the Pirates of the Caribbean costume my son wants... me thinks I might be a pirate too.
Anyhoo - for those of you without kids here are some ideas for your dogs and stuff.... (thanks for the inspiration Amy)
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
Survivor: Cook Islands- Thursday, September 14 at 8PM
Grey's Anatomy - Episode 3.01: Thursday September 21 at 9 PM
Desperate Housewives - Sunday September 24 at 9 pm (check out the website for a refresher on last season)
Lost - Wednesday, September 27 at 9 PM
The Bachelor: Rome - Monday October 2 at 9 PM (what the heck - might be funny)
Did I miss anything?
This one might have potential - but that's a tough timeslot!
Thursday, August 31 at 8:00 p.m. "Duets" (2-Hour Series Premiere)
Anyways - in the spirit you will note that I have posted two clips with Ellen Pompeo from Grey's (my absolute favorite show). I always sort of figured she was sweet like her character - boy was I mistaken. Oh well. Sucs when that happens though. (just like 90210)
Updated Fri. Aug. 25 2006 1:53 PM ET
CTV.ca News Staff
An IKEA catalogue with a photo that appears to show a dog with a larger-than-normal, human-like appendage has not been tampered with, according to the furniture giant's Canadian office.
The first photo in the 2007 catalogue -- a two-page, front-cover foldout -- shows a young family lounging on a bed with a dog.
The dog, which appears to be a greyhound or whippet, seems to have one distinctly human male characteristic, prompting some to suggest the image had been tampered with by a mischievous employee using a program such as Photoshop.
Ikea Canada says that's simply not the case.
"The picture has definitely not been tampered with," Debbie McDowell, corporate communications manager for the Swedish retailer's Canadian office told CTV.ca.
She said the photo was shot in Sweden, where the catalogues are put together.... continued here... (ps. thanks Victoria for bringing this to my attention!)
This is way better than the old penis in the palm tree Zoodles can of yesteryear... (I actually looked at this upsidedown once from where it was stored in what we called "the Ikea cupboard" in our family home. Coincidence?) It did really and truly look like a penis.
I also found the image of "sex" in the dust in the Disney movie Lion King - so I assure you it is there...it is blatantly there - there is no room for contention on this. Take my word for it. Or if you need to see for yourself - you unbeliever see below. Disney still acts like maybe it was just a coincidence but I have a feeling that someone got their ass canned over that...ha ha - get it - sort of a reference to the "can" above... (groan)
Friday, August 25, 2006
Thursday, August 24, 2006
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Hung out at Jennifer's birthday party on Saturday - and spent about 3 hours in her pool. I love the pool. It's so wonderful and warm. It was too cold to get out of the water. If I could have figured out a way to sleep in there, I would have. For her 30 th birthday - I very kindly gave her a cd entitled "Cougar Cuts" since I laughed so hard I almost fainted when I read it. Who knew Walmart would have something so funny? OOOOOOH - unless it wasn't supposed to be funny - but then that actually makes it funnier doesn't it?
I canned 18 jars of stewed tomatoes. Though - they are actually in jars so I'm not sure why we call it canning? But anyhoo - I dressed the part with the hair in a bandanna and an apron (the only thing missing were the high heel shoes! LOL). Anyways, now grandma will have tomatoes for the winter - and I won't feel so guilty stealing her jam.
Allergies have begun - and if I am to use the beginning to measure the severity of this years season - I believe it will be horrific. My eyes are so itchy I want to scream - as are the inside of my ears and the back of my throat - and actually just about everywhere else. Sneezing and runny nose added to the mix and I am pretty much done for.
I bought season 1 of Grey's Anatomy since I only started watching it near the end of the season. What a great show. I watched it right from the first episode through the last episode to fill in any mental gaps. I know have a much more intimate understanding of each of the characters. AND bonus features are cool. Then I figured I might as well pre-order season 2 just in case I want to refresh my mind for the start of season 3. YES - I know my social life isn't that interesting.... but I don't care.
Speaking of my underwhelming social accomplishments.... did anyone watch the season premiere of "House"? (Just saying "season premiere" sends shivers of anticipation down my spine... my favorite time of year...)Anyways, back to House. What the hell? That was really really terrible. Thank god that condition isn't real or I would never EVER leave the house again. For more than one reason actually - first, just in case it was catchy and second, in case I had to see anyone with it. If I saw someones eyeball vacate someones face in that manner, I would go instantly and irrevocably insane. The rest of it was icing on the cake - though food was more than likely the last thing on my mind when I watching that show.
Well - enjoy the sunshine (or the rain) wherever you are in the world...
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Friday, August 18, 2006
The result? It's official: penguins DO NOT topple over backwards while gazing at aeroplanes. Phew, glad we cleared that up. They just fall sideways for no apparent reason. (and wassup with the "This video may contain content that is inappropriate for some users, as flagged by YouTube's user community" warning?!) Or sometimes...
Now onto more important things - Your mouth produces 1 litre (1.8 pints) of saliva a day.
A person remains conscious for eight seconds after being decapitated. Well... that's just horrible, isn't it?
One day - learning all of this will make be master of Trivial Pursuit.
Thursday, August 17, 2006
Monday, August 14, 2006
Sunday, August 13, 2006
This is Keira Frightly (and as lovely as she is, she is a tad on the frightening side). Gotta love it. Check out the rest of this gal's site. Very amusing.
Friday, August 11, 2006
Bachelor number One
This is Moses. He is a catch in every way. Moses is currently trying to choose between a full time sperm donation man and that guy that cleans up road kill. (He collects roadkill - smatterofact - his creative self is making a quilt from the little buggers as a gift for his perfect love!) His idea of a perfect date involves crying, skipping and a flobee. He looks forward to showing you his scab collection. Don't miss out on this hunka hunka burnin love.
Bachelor number 2
This is Cro Magnon. Cro enjoys the polka and is currently perfecting his skillz as a rapper. Cro likes to write poetry and pick blackberries (at night -- naked). A romantic at heart he looks forward to stalking you to demonstrate his devotion. His ideal lady is into the old fashioned kind of wooing (like clubbing women over the head) and self flagellation. He likes to giggle and play "tickle". Cro currently shares a one bedroom apartment with his Mother and his Uncle Daddy. Someday he hopes to venture out on his own - or maybe live with you, his special lady...
Bachelor Number 3
This is Tommy. Tommy considers himself an ultrafine example of manhood. He enjoys the finer things in life - like boxed wine. Tommy is an award winning spam sculpture artist. (Two favorites are his scale model of the Tajmahal and a portrait of Dubya Bush. Very impressive) He is also convinced that the secrets to the universe are hidden in cheesedoodles.
No problem. We'll just get more wax... but then life got in the way and I forgot. So Mum went for a week with one leg smooth like a baby's bottom and one yeti style. Finally got back to it so now Mum doesn't have to wear her pants like a rapper. (one leg up, one leg down).
In other news... potty training success! I never thought I'd be so happy to see a poop. (Other than when they are newborn and you fear they might be constipated and then -- tada! This is only close to the relief I felt when I got an hour of consecutive sleep at that point.) I am almost at the point of not having to buy diapers and this a great cause for celebration. What a good kid I have. Unfortunately for me - I have to bribe her with suckers.... anyone ever seen a 2 year old kid at bedtime who has had 5 suckers? Can anyone say sugar high? Lucky for me and my desire to sleep I have found sugarless suckers. I am one happy Mommy today.
Thursday, August 10, 2006
Well - I just cannot resist a pond full of frogs.
While I identified the different frogs and discussed how healthy it is to see so many thriving amphibian friends - I dropped down onto the bank and started trying to catch one. It was such fun that I told my Dad he could join in. (In return I received the "look") He told me he didn't touch toads, let alone slimy amphibians. Riiiiiiiiiiiiight. So on I went trying to catch the sneaky little things. The duck grass was so healthy it made it damn near impossible to see them - let alone catch them. But I must have made it look like fun since my dad soon came clambering down the bank to join me.
I know he thought he could kick my ass at frogcatching. But he couldn't hold a candle to me and my wiley frog capturing ways.
Liz 1 - Dad 0.
He lunges and makes contact but it slips through his grasp. I laugh and point and hold up my little frog to tease him with. Then I spot the mother of all bull frogs (Rana catesbeiana) . (I know). I release my little Leopard Frog (Rana pipiens) and set about taking the "I'm a big frog too don't mind me" stance. I sneak up inch by inch, centimeter by centimeter and make my move. He croaks at me and slips through one hand after the other until - sploosh - back into the bog. Now I'm on a mission.
Over my shoulder my father is moving in on a victim. I hear a hoot and then some unidentifiable sounds. I turn to look and he is running on the spot. In the mud. With his arms flailing about his head like a six year old tap dancing. Finally he throws himself up and over the embankment and is laying in the grass face down groaning. A muffled "slippery mud" is all I hear. I ensure he is okay and then return to the bullfrog who is taunting me with his little bullfrog sounds.
I see his little eyeses watching me from beneath the duck grass. I spend the next 10 minutes hypnotizing him with my gaze. Then I dive and TADAAAA.
Liz 2 - Dad 0.
I sing a little song. Let Dad inspect my trophy. Stand there a while trying to get him to croak (this resulted in a little grunt that I am sure meant f- off in bullfrog), and allow him to return home.
I went on to catch a couple more frogs that day, and a frogpole (this is an actual term for one of the final stages in development silly sounding, huh?). But nothing can beat the vision of my Dad dancing in the mud and the feeling that I have finally beat him at something.
Final score: Liz 4 - Dad 0.
Taste that? That's victory (not froglegs - bletch)
Monday, August 07, 2006
Ever since I was a little girl, I've had this love of animals and an uncanny ability to make friends with the wild and the misunderstood. I have even been known to have a wild robin land on my hand ala Snowhite. I have conversed with wild deer and helped an injured crow. I have nursed motherless squirrels and raised feral cats. I have befriended old circus ponies and rescued butterflies. My father, however, has had... well a slightly different relationship with the wild.
Any dog - ANY DOG - will run up to my father (who eagerly awaits them - "well hello there little fella") and they will look lovingly at him before they lift their leg and pee on him. This has really and truly happened. And happened often. I recall a cat that used to come to our house that was one of those overly friendly little cats with a slight nervous disposition that doesn't seem to have a home. At first my father ignored him - since he figured if he was nice to him I'd decide he was our new pet but, after a while my father started to pet him and play with him. Then one day decided to correct him for playing a little to roughly - "No. You stop that little kitty. Right now!" Followed by the lightest of taps on the nose. The cat suddenly turned from cute kitten with great big eyes - to a fire breathing hellion that attempted to ingest my father's arm. He got such a bad infection that it almost killed him. Once - in a flash of brilliance - my father decided to befriend some elk. "They look friendly, wonder how close I can get..." I remember my mother's words fading into the background as the sound of charging hooves took over.... "...probably not such a good idea - isn't this their rutting season?" And then there was the time he decided to "gobble" at the turkeys. It sent them into attack mode instantaneously. I don't know what my father said in turkey - but whatever it was it pissed them off.
The funniest story, I have saved for last. It not only demonstrates my father's OCD tendencies, it also is a fantastic example of his twisted relationship with nature. My parents were in Hawaii. They were feeding the fish. The fish get very excited while they are being fed and they literally surround you. Well, as it happened, my father felt the need to urinate. Being in the ocean he managed to convince himself it would be alright to live on the edge and pee where he was. Most of us have done the same, right? However, being my fastidious father, he could certainly not accomplish this task in his bathing suit. So, he removed himself from his bathing suit. (who does that?) Anyways - remember the fish? YOU GUESSED IT. Chomp. My mother claims that the yelling and screaming could be heard for miles. I imagine the laughter could too - knowing my mother. He made my mother promise not to tell anyone but that night, at a company dinner (it was a conference) she got a little tipsy and started to laugh every time she thought about it. Eventually everyone in the room knew about it. If only you knew my father - he sat there with this very serious face all the while the entire room fell to the floor laughing over this entire scenario. Poor dad. "Sorry Charlie, only the best tuna get to be starkist".
Thursday, August 03, 2006
Four soldiers will come home this weekend. They will be flown into Toronto and my brother will be part of the unit that brings these fallen soldiers home to rest. There will be no hugs hello to family or whispered endearments to their beloved sons and husbands. There will instead be empty arms and hearts crushed by the weight of their immeasurable loss.
It seems that there are times when our words and sentiments are not enough. Despite that, I will say that I believe with all my heart that these people lived and died in a most honorable way. They served a purpose with their lives - though cut short - far greater than most of us will ever attain.
23 Canadian soldiers have given their lives to rid the world of evil and restore hope to people who had been forgotten by the world. 23 families have said goodbye to their children, their spouses and their parents. A number too high to count have said farewell to their friend and fellow soldier.
When my brother stands in his uniform and escorts our fallen hero’s home this weekend, my thoughts are with him and these soldiers’ families.
Bring our heroes home and lay them to rest beneath our beautiful ground. Let them go with peace and with our gratitude knowing that they have left behind a world far better for having had them in it.
I made the kids french toast for dinner - complete with fruit and a mini go. It is my daughter's greatest ambition to eat as little as possible so - while I was trying to convince her that french toast is the food of the gods - she busied herself trying to escape. This escape attempt was a combination of slapping her hands over her mouth and wiggling her entire body. This is normal behavior. But then - just to spice it up a bit she decided to jump up and run away. I was standing over her at the time. Her head collided with my face in an earth shattering crack. She made contact with my cheekbone, directly below my right eye -- and while I was reeling she was laughing. I did not know that you could get a goose egg on your cheek bone. Now I know. I looked like something out of Startrek.
I looked in the mirror and thought - this is one of those things that looks really bad right now but most assuredly by tomorrow it will be gone... right? WRONG.
I looked in the mirror this morning and all that escaped me was a whimper. Looking back at me was something hideous to behold. I have a full on black eye. To add insult to injury, the thunderstorm that graced us last night kept both the kids awake = kept me awake. So not only do I look like I've been beaten - I have puffy red rimmed eyes to boot.
Oh, the joys of motherhood.
Wednesday, August 02, 2006
The Corvair Company bought it in bulk to protect their atlas missile parts.The workers were so pleased with the product, they began smuggling (also knownas "shrinkage" or "stealing") it out to use at home. The executives decided there might be a consumer market for it and put it inaerosol cans.The rest, as they say, is history.It is a carefully guarded recipe known only to four people. Only one of them isthe "brew master." There are about 2.5 million gallons of the stuffmanufactured each year. It gets its distinctive smell from a fragrance that isadded to the brew. Ken East (one of the original founders) says there is nothing in WD-40 thatwould hurt you.
When you read the "shower door" part, try it. It's the first thing that has ever cleaned that spotty shower door. If yours is plastic, it works just as well as glass. It's a miracle! Then try it on your stovetop...Voila! It's now shinier than it's ever been. You'll be amazed.
Here are some of the uses:
Protects silver from tarnishing.
Cleans and lubricates guitar strings.Gives floors that ' just-waxed' sheen without making it slippery.
Keeps flies off cows.
Restores and cleans chalkboards.Removes lipstick stains.
Loosens stubborn zippers.
Untangles jewelry chains.Removes stains from stainless steel sinks.Removes dirt and grime from the barbecue grill.
Keeps ceramic/terra cotta garden pots from oxidizing.
Removes tomato stains from clothing.Keeps glass shower doors free of water spots.
Camouflages scratches in ceramic and marble floors.
Keeps scissors working smoothly.
Lubricates noisy door hinges on vehicles and doors in homes.
Gives a children's play gym slide a shine for a super fast slide.
Lubricates gear shift and mower deck lever for ease of handling on ridingmowers.
Rids kids rocking chairs and swings of squeaky noises.
Lubricates tracks in sticking home windows and makes them easier to open.
Spraying an umbrella stem makes it easier to open and close.
Restores and cleans padded leather dashboards in vehicles, as well as vinyl bumpers.Restores and cleans roof racks on vehicles.
Lubricates and stops squeaks in electric fans.
Lubricates wheel sprockets on tricycles, wagons, and bicycles for easyhandling.
Lubricates fan belts on washers and dryers and keeps them running smoothly.
Keeps rust from forming on saws and saw blades, and other tools.
Removes splattered grease on stove.
Keeps bathroom mirror from fogging.
Lubricates prosthetic limbs.
Keeps pigeons off the balcony (they hate the smell).
Removes all traces of duct tape.
Folks even spray it on their arms, hands, and knees to relieve arthritispain.
Florida's favorite use is: "cleans and removes love bugs from grills andbumpers."
The favorite use in the state of NewYork--WD-40 protects the Statue ofLiberty fromthe elements.
WD-40 attracts fish. Spray a LITTLE on live bait or lures and you will be catching the big one in no time.
Also, it's a lot cheaper than thec hemical attractants that are made for just that purpose. Keep in mind though,using some chemical laced baits or lures for fishing are not allowed in somestates.
Use it for fire ant bites. It takes the sting away immediately and stops the itch.
WD-40 is great for removing crayon from walls. Spray on the mark andwipe with a clean rag.
Also, if you've discovered that your teenage daughter has washed and dried a tube of lipstick with a load of laundry, saturate the lipstick spotswith WD-40 and re-wash. Presto! Lipstick is gone!
If you sprayed WD-40 on the distributor cap, it would displace the moisture and allow the car to start.
It removes black scuff marks from the kitchen floor!
Use WD-40 for those nasty tar and scuff marks on flooring. It doesn'tseem to harm the finish and you won't have to scrub nearly as hard to get themoff. Just remember to open some windows if you have a lot of marks.
Bug guts will eat away the finish on your car if not removed quickly!Use WD-40!P.S.
The basic ingredient is FISH OIL*
Tuesday, August 01, 2006
We have been collectively careless with Corporal Boneca's memory
CHRISTIE BLATCHFORD -
Saturday, July 15, 2006
KANDAHAR -- ANTHONY
It was a couple of my readers -- former reserve infantryman Tim Richter and serving reserve infantryman Sergeant Matt Kirkpatrick -- who really nailed it. Both were writing about the death of Corporal Tony Boneca, the 21-year-old reserve infanteer who was killed, on a lovely morning a week ago tomorrow, in a vicious battle against the Taliban.
Mr. Richter's note landed first. He was regretting the tawdry spectacle, at home, which arose out of the young soldier's death and centred upon comments he'd made to his girlfriend and which, as seems inevitable now in the instant information age, found their way into the media.
"Surely he wouldn't want to be remembered for his private confidences to his girlfriend?" Mr. Richter wrote, and then said sorrowfully, "We have been so reckless in writing his epitaph."
Yes, we have.
But then we in Canada -- press and public both -- have been so reckless for so long in our treatment of our military that our collective carelessness with this young soldier's memory is hardly surprising.
As Sgt. Kirkpatrick -- who has twice served overseas, including one stint in Afghanistan, and who is preparing for another tour here in about a year -- put it in an e-mail, "I feel for Cpl. Boneca's family, but the media reaction to his death is a loss for all Canadians. A soldier dying in service to Canada is only a tragedy if we waste his gift."
Sgt. Kirkpatrick is, as are so many soldiers, what my National Post colleague Matthew Fisher described the other day as "ferociously articulate." Consider what Sgt. Kirkpatrick said in response to allegations from Cpl. Boneca's girlfriend's father that the young soldier had complained he wasn't properly trained for this mission and that he had suffered badly while in the field.
"I never felt that I was not trained as well as my regular force counterparts, and I have never felt misled by the army.
"I have often been afraid, tired and hungry, but I volunteered for all of those things and more. I volunteered for the unlimited liability of military service. I made sure my mother, my father and all of my friends were aware that if anything happened to me that it happened to me while I was doing exactly what I wanted, and felt I needed, to do, and that I was keenly aware of the risks.
"I also asked them, in my will, to never speak publicly against the mission, as I felt it would stain any contribution I may have made."
These remarks were in Sgt. Kirkpatrick's first note to me, a personal one. I wrote back and asked if I could quote his comments, because I wasn't satisfied with the job I'd done the first time around. I thought he'd done a better job, in fact, than I had -- a common enough situation here, I should say, where I often feel clumsy compared with many of the soldiers I meet.
"I find it very difficult, as a soldier, to make any public comment about our military and our operations," Sgt. Kirkpatrick wrote back. "I have been trained for years to serve silently, and never to complain to those outside of my peers."
But, he said, "I feel compelled after reading the media coverage of the last few days to say something.
"I have the highest regard for Cpl. Boneca, regardless of anything that may have been said about him in the media.
"I have a unique insight here at home to sense the spin applied by some media channels, and I am saddened that anyone would speak about him in that way, without understanding what he was doing.
"I have trained hundreds of soldiers just like him, and I am always surprised by their resilience and resourcefulness.
"I also know [and here I bet Sgt. Kirkpatrick was smiling as he wrote this part] that one of the most important characteristics of a Canadian soldier is his ability to eloquently complain about hardships, all the while enduring them and accomplishing difficult tasks.
"I also had to sit my mother and father down and explain to them that I was going to a bad place and why -- twice. I can't fathom what his family is going through, but I can't imagine that the shameless attacks on his character, or of the political situation, can be any help in bearing the loss of their only son.
"I also think about the members serving in Afghanistan and the effect that the controversy might have on them."
But then, Sgt. Kirkpatrick wrote, "I do remember, though, that I have volunteered twice to defend all Canadians' right to say exactly those things with my life, and I fully intend to do it again."
The other day, he said, he thought his four-year-old nephew must have seen the news because the little guy asked him, at supper, if Afghanistan was dangerous because of volcanoes.
"I would go just about anywhere to help create a world . . . where the most dangerous thing was a volcano. That's how I want to explain why I went to Afghanistan, but I don't usually say anything at all."
At bottom, Sgt. Kirkpatrick said, "As a Canadian citizen, I feel we owe him [Cpl. Boneca] more than a petty argument about how happy he was to do difficult things in the harshest of conditions."
So there you have it. We had in Cpl. Boneca, described by those who served with him as a happy kid with a mischievous smile, a young man just turned 21, with a girlfriend he adored and to whom it appears he confided that he was sometimes frightened and pining for home. All natural enough, it seems to me, and as one wise old soldier told me, there isn't a man in the world who doesn't, from time to time, exaggerate his hardship with a lady in order to win her sympathy. As for fear, it is the foolish soldier who isn't afraid in combat; the measure of him is how he manages his fear.
We had a soldier, who like soldiers everywhere, may have complained; soldiers have done that since there were soldiers. As another reader told me, in the Second World War, when a soldier had bitched on too long, the Aussies even had an expression that would call a halt to it: "Dry your eyes." Soldiers complain about conditions and the stupidity of orders and bosses the way that reporters whine about editors -- it's like breathing, and one shouldn't make much of it.
Finally though, what we had in Cpl. Boneca was a young man who, whatever the terrors that seized his heart, whatever the confessions he made to his girl, was out with his platoon last Sunday morning, doing his job, heading up the stairs of a mud hut when a bullet struck him in the neck.
As Tim Richter said, "I for one think he deserves to be remembered as tough, brave and good.
"He went up the stairs."
Cpl. Boneca will be buried Monday in his Thunder Bay home town, where, I trust, they will not be as reckless as the rest of us in writing his epitaph.
With the humidex it is 47 degrees celcius - or 116.6 degrees fahrenheit.
If I didn't have air conditioning I would want to die. It is disgusting outside. Feels like you're walking through foam. Hot, sticky foam.
Anyone have a pool?