Of kingdoms and coal scuttles.

Queen Anne: so cute, but way too fussy.
Yet how I would love to sit and write in a sunny turret!

I don't know where (or quite when) my husband and I will retire (really, I mean my husband, since I've been a stay-home mom all my life: do you ever retire from that? I guess you morph into Travelling Grandma, and that's wonderful too). Sometimes I dream about building a house where we will spend our golden years. And by "build" I mean "have built:" I'm not a builder and my hubby is tired of doing renovations, which have been occurring regularly for the 20+ years we've lived in our current house.

Today is a good day to start blogging again

And not just because it's the first day of a new month, and a new school year, and my sister's birthday (Happy Birthday, D!) But because there is just so much to say, and do and share. But some of it will have to wait, because today we're moving two of our daughters to university. In the meantime, please enjoy the lovely colours of summer at my house. Hollyhocks, some of my favourite garden babies.

Two of my favourite things

Jesus and vintage. Though the aforementioned is a Person, of course, and what a Person. I especially love the image/statue of Christ the Redeemer as he appears in Rio, Brazil.


I want this!! (Cough, Mother's Day is coming... cough). Available at Amazon.

This isn't even a little bit funny.

It's past the middle of April, and we're into Music Festival week, where I have to drive literally hundreds of km (29 km one way; round that off to 30, then multiply by 15) back and forth to a nearby town for our daughters to compete in piano, vocal and musical theatre. And I don't like winter driving. And what is going on outside at this very moment is winter. I know this is Canada, but even here, we're supposed to have something resembling Spring right now.

In the olden days when people were ignorant and superstitious, they would blame this on the weather gods. But now we have Al Gore.  I'm long past even hoping for a little bit of Global Warming. At this point, I'm praying that our government will let us keep our carbon tax so that we can use it to heat our homes in June. Cuz the planet isn't overheating. Not here. Not even a little bit.

The view out my North patio doors, blocked by the driven snow.

An artistic (blurry) rendering of my patio chairs, buried in snow.
The melting drops on the window in the foreground represent my tears of frustration at Al Gore, and all Global Warmists and politicians who think taxing us will change the weather. 

My "garden."  I use the term loosely. 

My life is like a movie!

Unfortunately, the movie is Napoleon Dynamite. This actually happened to me recently.



Yes, Middle Age Brain strikes again (actually, I'm past middle age, since I don't think it's likely I'll live past 100, but that's neither here nor there. I still feel too young to call myself a 'senior'). I was at a small-town grocery store, having dashed inside to buy two (literally two) items. $44 later, I zipped open my purse to see... no wallet. Of course. I had put it in the side pocket of my gym bag the previous morning, and had forgotten to replace it. No cards, no cash, no knowledge of how to use my smartphone to pay for stuff (IS there such an app? I don't even know. Probably, but I'm old.)

Luckily, I had my bulging little change purse, and if there is anything I don't do often enough, it's empty my change purse. I decided to pay with "loonies" and "toonies" ($1 and $2 Canadian coins).

I got as far as $37, and that was that. The kindly clerk said she would ring in the entire amount ($44) and that I could bring the rest back the next day. Did I mention she didn't know me from Adam? Or Eve? However, I must have looked suitably pathetic (and trustworthy) because she let me walk out with $7 of my groceries unpaid for. Fortunately, when I got to the car, I remembered hubby also has a little stash of coins which he uses at the coin-op carwash (sorry, Hon). So I ran back into the store to square my debt.

It restores one's faith in humanity. My memory, not so much. Must go put wallet back into purse now.

Scale: our quarters, nickels and dimes are the same size as U.S. coins of that ilk.
So are the pennies, but we don't use them anymore. 

One more quick post

This blog post was written by my lovely niece Anna, who is a mom, designer and seamstress/crafter. She owns and operates Little Plum Tree from her home: beautiful hand-made toys, using local products and materials. I have a couple of her tote bags, and my pet hen, Henrietta, also came from Little Plum Tree.

Henrietta enjoying a prairie summer sunrise from the comfort of the settee

The article is about making one's home beautiful--something with which I have always struggled mightily. Heck, I can hardly keep the place tidy, but it's all part of the same problem. I liked this quotation:

In the past I’ve been tempted to settle for a solution that is functional only, thinking I need to be content with something I don’t particularly like because we need to finish a project, or because it’s superficial to hold out for something that’s more attractive.

Ain't THAT the truth! Mrs Beazly and I have struggled with this for so long, we even came up with a name for our decor style: "Scrap and Salvage" (and not in a good, trendy, hipster, thrift-store kind of way). For a while at my house, we had an old kitchen cabinet standing backwards (doors to the wall) embellished with some laminate shelving and pine "trim," which functioned as a shoe shelf IN OUR ENTRYWAY: you know, the place in your house where guests get their first impression. Before it went to its rightful home (the dump) I photographed it, but it was so ugly, I can't even bring myself to post it. (Like that Legolas guy said after that Gandalf guy died in that movie, "the grief is still too near.")

And I still can't get my hubby to throw away the boxy, non-functioning, fake wood/fake leather stereo speaker from the 1970s that he uses for an end table next to his reading chair. Good Lord! I'm in my FIFTIES: when can I stop living like a college student, and instead have only real furniture in my house? (Yes, I know: First World Problems.)

Anyway, back to Anna and Little Plum Tree. She also has a great eye and is a marvellous photographer.

I think my next acquisition will be this little owl. I'm in love with him. 

Fitness update

I'm old, but I'm not that old. Going to the gym, circa 1923

OK, I've now completed three workouts, and I have good news: I DIDN'T DIE! And I didn't even throw up (though after my first one last Thursday, I felt pretty nauseated, and my entire body felt like Jello). But I survived! This took place at the local CrossFit gym. I was inspired by a friend and assured that "anyone" can do it: they scale down the exercises and movements to fit your age, fitness level and any injuries or or chronic physical issues that you may have. So far, so good.

And golly, as a Catholic, how can you not be attracted to something with the word "cross" in it? And believe me, after my first three sessions, the emphasis is definitely on the "cross" -- fit, not so much.

I have to do the "On ramp" beginner's class, before I'll be ready to join the regular fitness classes (well, "ready" is a relative word. I may never feel "ready"; the best I might be able to do is "willing"). My first sessions have definitely pushed me to the edge of my strength and abilities. I had not done any research into CrossFit before plunging in; this was so that I would not get intimidated before I even began. But I'm moderately intimidated now. Not only are the workouts hard, but it also looks as though the cost of regular gym membership might be prohibitive, at least for the present. My writing income has been (*cough*) hovering around zero for the last three years. So until I can find a job or two, and earn a few dollars, I don't see how it will be feasible for me to join a second gym. (Our family already frequents another establishment on a semi-regular basis.)
.

#selfesteem

Closer to reality

Fantasy--sort of

Today I'm taking the plunge and starting a new fitness adventure. I'm carpooling with a couple of other ladies and going to a gym in a nearby community. Close to the time they were due to arrive, I heard a vehicle pull up outside. "Is this my ride?" I wondered.

No, it wasn't. I hope this isn't an omen.

But with snow. Lots and lots of snow.
.

We are not on Twitter

When it comes to online communication and/or searches, a single letter, or even a dot can direct you to the wrong (or let us say "different") place. So one must be precise. I was googling our blog name one time, and came up with this lady's Twitter address (or handle, or whatever the Twitterites--Twitterenes--Twitteronians--Twits? call themselves).

I highly approve of this graphic: Mrs Pinkerton

DumbOldHousewife
@DumbOlHousewife

Most in the MSM and Hollywood consider women like me to be just dumb old housewives. #wife #momto5#nebraska #catholic #prolife#conservative #NFP

This is not us we (you must use proper grammar, no mattter how awkward it sounds). This is (as you can see from her description) a wife, mother of 5, who is Catholic, from Nebraska, who is prolife, conservative, and promotes natural methods of fertility awareness. Something tells me we could have a tremendous amount in common with her. But I can't say for sure, as I've not read all of her tweets.  

Here are the differences: we are three ladies (albeit two fairly silent ones, for various reasons--we're slowly rectifying that); we have 16 children between us, and we are not from Nebraska. We are from Canada (SK and ON) and Australia. 

In any event, more power to you, Mrs DOH from Nebraska! Let it be noted (if copyright issues ever arise) that she joined Twitter in 2017, and our blog has been operating under this banner since 2009. And she has 128 followers, and we have 34, so we're evidently doing something wrong. Maybe we should get on Twitter. 

.

I'm glad wrinkles are in style

Because if there's one thing I am NOT going to do, it's iron tablecloths and sheets. The wrinkles add texture, don't you know! (Makes our faces more interesting, ladies over 40! Remember that.)

This photo is from one of my favourite sites, Nordic Design. There is something so appealing about Nordic design: the coolness, cleanliness, sparseness (this must be my inner neatnick rebelling against my manifest hoarder), the warmth of the wood and other natural elements, and of course THE LIGHT. Read anything on Nordic design and rule Number 1 is proper lighting. That is why (according to the Little Book of Hygge), Scandinavians use more candles per capita than anyone in the world.

I prefer rustic to ultra modern...

...but this couple has managed to blend the two quite nicely (that range and hood/fan!)

More wrinkly bed linens

Happy Saturday. Are you cleaning house today too?
.

When you walk into IKEA

Should you feel like a junkie diving into a sea of heroin? Probably not. But I can't help it, because I don't get there very often. And when I do, I never seem to have enough time to browse to my satisfaction. That's probably a good thing, because otherwise I would just spend too much money.

But I did get some nice deals earlier this week, including some lovely 100% cotton bed linens. Such as:

I bought this set for my crafty daughter Miss P #7, who immediately designed and crocheted herself a cute little coordinating pillow:

I also bought myself a small plate rack, and I may get another. This is part of the reason I love IKEA. When we renovated our kitchen, I wanted a plate rack in an open cabinet. It would have cost about $200 to have it custom built (so I was told when we were pricing out kitchen cabinets, years ago). On the other hand, this plate rack kit, available at Lee Valley, was about $40-$50 (now it's over $60).

What you get. 

What it ends up looking like. 

On the OTHER hand, here is my IKEA plate rack. Very simple, I know, but it does the job--and it's portable! Cost: $3.99. Total cost for two of them (to fill the entire shelf): $8.

I'm not sure why this photo is weirdly pixillated.
.

I also wanted this cute little tray/side table. Very useful for when you have extra chairs out for lots of company, or your spot on the couch is just too far from the coffee table. I'd be using this all over the house, even my bedroom: the way it's currently set up, I don't have room for a night stand on my side of the bed. This would have been handy when I was sick in bed for two weeks. 

.

Can cheesecake go bad?

I can't even believe I'm asking that question. I bought this the first week of February in honour of our granddaughter's birthday, and since there are only now four people living in my house and none of them are toddlers (it's SO quiet!) and we've been taking turns being sick with phlegmy coughs, stomach issues and so forth... that here we are, a WEEK LATER, and there are still some slices in the fridge. And, as Miss P#5 lugubriously lamented when she was four, "It'th Lent." So should I keep it till Sunday, or should I freeze it? 
.

Never mind the pancakes

Or the Shrove* (got shriven two days ago, so I'm actually ahead of the game for once). Today was Vodka Tuesday at my house. I was going to post a photo of my empty vodka bottle (really, there was only one ounce left) but as soon as it was empty, my tidy hubby (God bless him) whisked it away to the recycling bag and it's already been carted away. But it was this brand.

I'm really not much of a drinker, but I do like my occasional glass of red wine, and the less occasional mixed drink (vodka with something fruity or spiced rum with cola, mainly). So it's a natural thing to give up for Lent. Funny--last year Lent felt so long. How long? This long: I was using mouthwash one evening at bed time towards the end of Lent, and --oh dear-- I was actually tempted to swallow. (I didn't.)

* Given the whole Shrove Tuesday thing, I wonder how many people think that word means "pancake." It doesn't; it's a verb. Found that out in Shakespeare class, reading Romeo and Juliet. So I'd like to think that B.A. degree wasn't a total waste of time and money.
.

Is there a subtext here?

 I saw this book and play kit at Costco recently, and was rather disturbed that there is no figurine of the Prince. Just the Beast.  Belle falls in love with the Beast, and he remains a beast. There is no transformation scene at the end of the book. Which is sad and a little creepy. 

It is necessary to introduce a new category at DOH

Random internet photo: NOT the author's parking abilities.

The acronym for this category is YJAS. It stands for "Yer Jist As Stoopid" and of course, there is a story behind it.

Poor January gets such a bad rap

Rightly or wrongly? Most people I know hate January--at least the ones who live in the Northern Hemisphere. It's cold, dark, and post-Christmas depressive. I don't know about you, but come January, I usually find myself 10 pounds heavier, lots of dollars poorer, still tired from the holidays (moms don't usually "rest" much over Christmas, even though we do enjoy it, so don't feel guilty, kids!), still wondering where the previous 12 months (or 45 years) went, and feeling just a bit overwhelmed about starting a new year (it's depressing when you get depressed over having no Resolutions, because ultimately you know that they'll end up where the Resolutions from the last 50+ years went).

But you know what? The sun is rising earlier; life is pretty much what you make it, and God is watching over all of it, and willing to hold our hands if we let him. Just don't forget that he's there. One good thing about time going quickly is that January is 32.258064516% over. That's about one-third. The inspirational quotation below seems to be for Jan. 1, but really, you can use it any day of the year. Because, Behold, God makes all things new.

PS,  you are less likely to have a good year if you spend January like this, so make a different plan:

I came for the Mystery; I stayed for the Style

I love the British Poirot series, created/adapted by Clive Exton (who also did a smashing job of Jeeves and Wooster) and starring the wonderful David Suchet. Someday, I want to own the entire DVD series, because the day is coming when there will be nothing to watch on TV. 

We have already given up on all network TV and no longer have satellite service. And now Netflix has dropped some seasons of Poirot, so what good are they? (Netflix, that is.) And besides, our internet service is terrible (Xplornet, our provider is ranked 20th out of 20 providers, and alas and alack, we still have an entire year on our contract!). So DVDs it is. 

But the style! When I watch this series, I'm always geeking out over the Art Deco furniture, architecture and the 1930s clothing. I especially love Miss Lemon. I would like to dress like her when I grow up. 

Her secretarial togs: 

Her glamorous side: 

So why haven't I been posting much?

Because life throws you curve balls. Once in a while you connect; often you swing and miss; and sometimes the ball hits you in the head and knocks you unconscious, and you lie there for years, wondering about your place in the universe.

If you want a different metaphor, perhaps one that Dr.Jordan B. Peterson might use (WATCH HIS VIDEOS--any of them, all of them) would suffice: in the last five years (maybe more like seven), I have spent a great deal of the time in the Underworld, with occasional side trips to hell. In that time, I have unfortunately discovered that I am about 90% deadwood. And I've been spending a lot of time  and prayer trying to figure out how to salvage and use the remaining 10% for which there may (or may not) be potential.

Yeah, yeah, everyone has problems. Suffering is a core component of Being (Dr. Peterson... I'm going to be quoting him a lot from now on, because like thousands of other people all over the globe, I've kind of taken him on as a shrink and mentor). But thanks be to God, it feels as though I am emerging back into the sunlight once more. I believe 2018 is going to be a great year, because I'm going to do my best to make it so. Life is full of choices, and every one we make "tilts the world a little bit, either towards heaven or hell". (Dr. Peterson again, but he's just repeating basic Christian theology.)

Happy January 2. May God richly bless you this coming year.
.

I have Transphoniaphobia

      

This is my idea of a phone.

This isn't.

I'm transitioning from an old cell phone that's not working so great anymore (Google Nexus) to a newer phone (Samsung Galaxy S7) that I hope will work better, but you know what? I am old. I'm still learning how to use the Nexus (I've only had it for I dunno, 8 years, which is brand-new in normal-people years, but excruciatingly ancient and obsolete according to the younger techie-folk). We are also switching providers from Virgin Mobile to Koodo, which is complicating the process even more.  

And I'm suffering. I like learning new things if it has to to with music, art, literature (even grammar), philosophy, theology, psychology, ballroom dance, sewing, or even cooking. I do not like learning anything that has to do banking, mechanics, math or any form of technology. As I said, I still don't know how to use all the features on my old phone, and now I have to abandon it, and that leaves me with a feeling of having left something undone (and you'd think I'd be used to that feeling by now, but it still niggles). 

And yet I can't abandon my old phone, because that's still how I'm using the Messenger app (I can't start using that app on my new phone until I can find where I wrote down my Facebook passwords, which I've forgotten), and I'm still using my old phone to read my Kindle books, and browse the internet and watch YouTube videos and check email. I can phone people on my new phone, but I can't access my voice mails, because when I try, a new voice (the no-nonsense schoolmarm Koodo voice, not the saucy Aussie Virgin Mobile voice) tells me that my call cannot be completed as dialed. My hubby printed out 5 pages of instructions for how to rectify this. (As if I'm going to read them without being forced.)

I'm also still using the camera on my old phone, because when I tried to take a picture with my new phone, it started asking me a bunch of questions, and I thought: Really? I have to answer a questionnaire before I can take a picture of this giant teddy bear at Costco? And so I walked away without taking the picture. You'll have to take my word for it that Costco is selling a nine-foot tall teddy bear--and how do you get that thing into your car? And how big would your toyroom have to be to store it? Prediction: there will be half a dozen giant teddy bears donated to Value Village within six months. But I digress. 

The moral of the story is that my life is even more complicated, now that I have to haul TWO phones all over the house with me. (We have no land line, which is another story altogether.) And if you phone me, don't bother leaving a message. I'll just call you back. 

.

Things ladies like

Well, some ladies anway. Ladies who like perfume, pearls, vintage mirrors, antique furniture, and adult colouring books (I really don't like the sound of that--I'm going to call it a "grown-up" colouring book).

And yes, OF COURSE the above photo is "curated". The flat surfaces in my house are usually buried under two feet of assorted, cascading clutter. Dealing with that will be one of my projects for 2018...

Marie Kondo's philosophy is to keep only the things that "spark joy." The problem is, for us hoarders, a LOT of stupid stuff sparks joy. 

.