All about E

Back in the first week of Nablopomo I said I was going dedicate a post to each of my girls. I’ve already done K’s and since it is exactly one month to E’s fifth birthday (yes she was born on Christmas and yes it is only one month to Christmas…) I decided today would be the day for her post.

over and done

Tonight we had our Annual General Meeting at the preschool where next year’s committee was elected. What does that mean? I’m done! Dooone donedonedone DOOONNEEE! Actually I’m still the treasurer until our handover meeting on December 9th, but the end is near, my friends. So near I can taste it – and it tastes good. Now being the treasurer wasn’t terrible, but until the last few months I never felt confident and comfortable with what I was doing. From the beginning I had things like budgets, petty cash, paper work and Profit and Loss vs. Actual statements thrown at me without any explanation of how to read them, fill them in or just what to do with them. They are all things that I’m sure are easy peasy for those who have had experience or were maybe taught how to do them, but when you have none of that tucked away somewhere in your brain things can get somewhat…frustrating. I basically felt like I was completely stupid for a the first bit of my job as treasurer. I’m hoping to be able to give next year’s treasurer a little more confidence going in than I had. I’ll try and pass on the things I’ve learned even though I still can’t explain a profit and loss statement very well, but I do understand them and know what is good and what is bad. I’m sure she’ll feel overwhelmed to begin with anyway (unless she’s got some sort of financial background), I think it just goes with the territory of jumping head first into responsibility.

In saying all that I am glad I volunteered my time. I got to see the kinder operate from the inside rather than just pick up, drop off and occasionally be the helper for the day. It was nice to get to know E’s teachers a little better than I might have had I not offered to take the position. And I won’t lie – I felt a little important analyzing the budget, doing paperwork and having my big thick binder and treasurer inbox at the school. Getting my brain working on a level that didn’t involve other people’s poop, bath times and meals wasn’t so bad either.

All things good and bad considered, though? Well, my plan is to never be an executive on a committee. ever. again.

28/99

I saw this over at Erin’s and thought I’d give it a go. All the things in bold are things I have done:

1. Started your own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than you can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sang a solo
11. Bungee jumped
12. Visited Paris
13. Watched a lightning storm at sea
14. Taught yourself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty
18. Grown your own vegetables
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitch hiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb
26. Gone skinny dipping
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset
31. Hit a home run
32. Been on a cruise
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of your ancestors
35. Seen an Amish community
36. Taught yourself a new language
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant
44. Visited Africa
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance
47. Had your portrait painted
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling
52. Kissed in the rain
53. Played in the mud
54. Gone to a drive-in theater
55. Been in a movie
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business
58. Taken a martial arts class
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies
62. Gone whale watching
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp
67. Bounced a check
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten Caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London
77. Broken a bone
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had your picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible
86. Visited the White House
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating
88. Had chickenpox
89. Saved someone’s life
90. Sat on a jury
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club
93. Lost a loved one
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a law suit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee

Things I haven’t done on this list, but would like to are numbers 12 (France in general), 14, 25, 36, 37, 62 and 67*

*Kidding!

Evolution of a song

Our crappy day in Melbourne

As I said yesterday we were in Melbourne doing various immigration things. The main thing that brought us to the city was Andy’s medical for his visa application. When we walked in the door the cranky old bitch receptionist who works there greeted us with a “Can I help you?” and not a in a pleasant way, but the snarky way with a bitchy emphasis on the ‘help you’ part. Andy said who he was and she told him his appointment was for yesterday, November 19. She wondered where we were and was going to call and find out, but she was just too busy. Now, usually I would have at least given her half a benefit of the doubt that the mistake was mine, but there was a couple of things that made me 100% sure that she was at fault, not me. The first being that I asked Andy what day would be best to make the appointment since he had to take it off work (it’s a two or more hour drive each way) and he conferred with the people he worked with and they all decided Thursday would be the best. Thursday! Not Wednesday! And the second and biggest reason I am one hundred trillion million percent sure that I was not wrong was that yesterday, Thursday the 20th day of November was my father’s birthday and the FIRST thing that popped into my mind when me and the cranky old bitch receptionist made the date was, “Hey, that’s Pappa’s birthday!”. Annnd, I rest my case.

The doctor still managed to somehow squeeze Andy for the ten minute medical. Of course I had to hear several times how we would totally be backing their day up. I mean, of course, right? We all know doctors run strictly on time everywhere, never making patients wait for, sometimes, hours. No way! And if you try and tell me any different I’ll call you a bold faced liar, I will. Honestly the generosity and good spirit at that office could have driven me to tears. TEARS!

After all that holapalooza we had to deal with the photo incident I wrote about yesterday. The photos that ended up costing $130 for the two girls. I was originally quoted $70 (which was already $40 more than we first thought), but when we got there we were told it was $55 per child, not $35 and it would be another $20 because we wanted them the same day – which was not a last minute thing we sprung on them, but something we discussed on the phone the day before when it was still only $70 total. The fee for their citizenship papers is $75 each and we had to pay nearly that for two measly photos of each of them. Those crazy big city folk!

Next was lunch. We decided to get something quick and cheap which saw us stroll past all kinds of delicious little cafes, a tasty looking pizza parlour and plenty more tempting looking spots. We ended up getting the kids a hot dog, me a spinach and feta triangle, Andy four chicken wings and a plate of chips to share and it was all, for the most part, utter crap. The bill? $35.50! For crap! Crap that we were ok with when we thought we’d be paying, at the most, $20. But $35.50? We all agreed pizza would have been a better choice.

Then we walked around the city, took some photos, saw the Myer Christmas window and had fun for a little while. Once I get a chance to edit some photos I’ll put a few up. So there was some good and enjoyable parts to the day. Then we had to pay $26 for parking and got lost on the way home and added and hour and a half to the two hour drive home.

My daughter the Ogre

Today we were in Melbourne doing various things for Canadian immigration matters, one of which was the girls photos for their citizenship papers. E did great and was done in less than five minutes, then it was K’s turn and that’s when all hell broke loose and we ended up with this:

This, THIS was the best of the lot. She was a monster – screaming, crying, did I mention SCREAMING?

This is what she looked like about 20 minutes before we went to the studio:

And to add insult to injury this is what she looked like about a half hour after we got her photo done completely gave up on trying:

Technically this photo meets the requirements, but why K? WHHYYY?

Some might call it art (and I might call them stupid)

So I was sitting here trying to think about what to write today and I brought up paint to doodle. Before I knew it an hour had passed and I still had nothing but a doodle. And so I leave you with another cop out (I’m sure you expected at least a few…right?). I call this Procrastination in Paint:

I’ve still got scars on some fingers and my feet.

So I was going to write about this time a few months back when we’d forgotten to put the bins out the night before and I popped up out of bed to the sound of the garbage truck coming down our street. I ran out of the house as fast as I could grabbed the garbage bin and booked it towards the curb. I heard the truck getting close and decided to stop and see just how close it was, but the bin didn’t like that plan and kept on heading for the curb. It took me down. Hard; scrapes on both feet, both knees were bloody and swollen, one boob copped it, and one hand was bleeding like crazy with the skin scraped off a few layers deep in parts. Oh, and all this happened right in front of the truck drivers because, as it turned out, they were just next door. I’ll just take a second here to remind you that I had shot straight out of bed and looked quite a few notches below fantastic. I still got up, put the bin at the curb and headed back in without making eye contact with the truck drivers. I didn’t go back to bring the bin in until the next day. I don’t know if I was mad at it and it was supposed to be punishment or something, but I did not want to give that bin the time of day.

The reason I was planning to write about it is that the wrinkly top bit of my right ring finger got wiped right off. During the healing process I wondered if my finger would know to grow the wrinkles back or if it would come back smooth meaning I would never be able to bend my finger again. Dramatic, I realize, but I’m no doctor! Anyway, the wrinkly bit did grow back…crooked. And that was going to be the post – this story plus a picture of the crooked wrinkly bit. Only problem was that all the pictures came up with it looking perfectly straight – and it’s not. I swear! So instead you get the story and an excuse. The end.

What would you do?

Picture this: It is 2003 and Andy and I are driving from Port Douglas, Queensland down to Victoria with Abby in tow. She starts out in a pet carrier, but after pooping in it after only five minutes in the car, a stop to clean it, and then about 40 non stop minutes of meowing she moves out of the carrier and into the back seat. She is quite safe and comfortable back there; we covered the seat in a big blanket and had her on her leash so she couldn’t jump into the front. She seems to settle and takes in the sights as we drive. We have to stop at one point for a herd of cows to cross the road and they are all around our car – Abby can not believe what see is watching! What on Earth are these things? It was the cutest thing either Andy or I had seen up to that point. After a few stops it is obvious that Abby is freaking out on the inside because she will not drink any water. Eventually things went so far that we had a cat that was half dead (or so it seemed) and panting like a dog in the back seat covered in ice blocks to keep her cool, but who still would not drink. We make our first stop for the night and sneak Abby into a motel and she hides under the bed the entire time. She eventually gives in and has a drink once she calms down and the rest of our stops are closer together and she makes it to Victoria safe and sound.

That was quite a scene and I later learned that some cats will be stupid stubborn enough to let themselves die rather than drink if they become stressed. And that brings us to today and the extremely hard decision we are trying make concerning Abby and flying to the other side of the world.

The argument for taking her: Abby is an odd animal (as most cats are) and has a few quirks (as most cats do) and I worry that other people will not be able to cater to them like we will. Abby loves us (and we love her) and has pretty much disliked every other person, save a few, that she has met. The girls have had Abby in their lives since day one and it will make them very sad to leave Abby behind. I worry that if we find Abby another home that she will get depressed and not eat or drink and die. Abby sleeps beside me every night. A couple weeks ago when she had a sore eye she was right up beside me and I cuddled her like a baby and she purred until we both fell asleep.

The argument for finding her a home here: We worry that she will freak on the plane- the three different planes- not drink when she is given water between flights and die. We also worry all the moving between flights will stress her out. Even if she makes it once we get to Canada we will be staying with my parents until we find a house and Abby will have to live with two dogs, one of whom hates cats. (Plus I don’t think the dogs will be too thrilled either.) So we worry that will stress her out, and so on. When I explained the situation to the vet they recommended we find Abby a home here. To be honest the main thing here is that we feel pretty certain that Abby will die in transit and that is an awful thought.

This is really hard. Abby is a family member and I feel like any option is signing her death warrant. What would you do? Do you think she could adapt if we found a home that would take her in and love her? Do you think it’s worth risking her life to bring her? I’ll go through everything and decide the best idea is to find her a home and then find it too hard to think about actually doing it so then I think we should just take her, but then I feel awful about the idea of putting Abby through all that, and and and.

She really is a pretty great, low maintenance cat who’s mellowed over the years (she is seven) – any takers? Or ideas?

LAPWJPTFBOTCBRTEI & PWCTTELWMTTSMNOIA

I thought I would take a little time out of this 30 day journey to talk about a couple types of grocery store customers who completely suck. Yeah, I know it’s not a good idea to bitch about the place you work on your blog, but I know I won’t be at this job for more than five or six months so I’m going to take my chances.

Number one: Lazy ass people who just put their full basket on the conveyor belt rather than emptying it (LAPWJPTFBOTCBRTEI). What the hell? I thought this was a lazy act before I ever worked at a grocery store and now that I have to empty the things? Well, let’s just say some bread may be squished in transit from that basket to the shopping bag*. I mean, come on! Chances are that you’re going to be standing in line for a couple minutes anyway so why not take that time to EMPTY YOUR BASKET, LAPWJPTFBOTCBRTEI. I can’t see everything in there right away so it makes it hard to efficiently pack the bags and when you’re short like me it’s actually really awkward to reach in to get the groceries out. Oh! And those of you who leave your wallets and keys in there for me to hand to you? Holy frack you are lucky that I don’t throw the damn things right in your lazy face. I should add that if someone that was elderly or impaired in some way came through and didn’t empty their basket I would be totally fine with that. But. But! Guess how many elderly or impaired people have done this. Guess! None! I’ve had people come through who were blind, in wheel chairs and pushing walkers who actually take the time to empty their baskets. Do you even know how much lazier that makes you LAPWJPTFBOTCBRTEI? Ridiculously so, that’s how much!

Number two: People who come through the express lane with more than the specified maximum number of items allowed (PWCTTELWMTTSMNOIA). What is wrong with you? Every grocery store has an express lane and they’re generally located in the same spot in all stores. I get it. You see the short, quick line and think you’re in a rush and can’t wait. You’re special aren’t you, PWCTTELWMTTSMNOIA. So you take your full trolley/cart of groceries and go right in that express lane! Never mind that everyone around you only has a few things – you’re SPECIAL! Or maybe “you didn’t realize” it was 12 items or less. Well, like I said they are in pretty much the same place in pretty much every grocery store in existence so GET A CLUE ALREADY. Now I am not super strict on the 12 items (unlike the time I was made to go in a big line when I was only over by one, and some things were doubles of the same thing so technically I was well within the maximum number…) – 13, 15, maybe 18 things? Fine. But, when you start getting up into the 20’s it’s just not cool anymore, ok?

*I’ve only done it once and it was to a customer who, on top of not emptying his basket, didn’t feel it necessary to actually acknowledge that I was talking to him. Also, it felt really good. And if you are disgusted by my actions make sure never to ask what a co-worker of Andy (when we lived in QLD and he worked at a fish and chip shop) did to a customer’s burger when they were simply a bit rude to me at the photoshop I was working at. Trust me, you won’t want to know.