I'm baaaaaaaaaaaack

The summer has come and gone and I have been neglecting you...sorry about that! I suppose I should run down the highlights to catch you up.

Well... where should I start?

My puppy can't stop stealing our underwear.

(with a pair of Mommy's Joe Boxers)

(and let's not forget Daddy)

I have been creating plenty of naughty cross-stitch.

And our first garden turned out lovely

I hoped that my time off would never end...but it is back to school with another year to look forward to with new material from the children ( perhaps that's why I had nothing much to say).

Is this for real?

I mean really.... I am speechless...

I am finally a mother...

I have been all-consumed with our new puppy, Zadie. It really is like having a baby and I am finding the summer is just flying by, me with puppy bowel-movements on my mind. Hey, that could be a catchy title for a song!

Look people, I have not even been knitting!

We took Zadie for her first haircut on Tuesday. I had no idea that my dog's haircut would be more expensive than my own, but there you have it...

Been humming a catchy tune around the house lately. My co-hort in the library turned me onto it and at first I was rather mortified by it, but recently came around. It all happened one day when Zadie fell asleep on the coffee table.

It reminded me of this.

The real sick thing is that she wags her tail like mad whenever we play it.

Yep, that's my girl!

A health message for all...

In support of spreading awareness on the H1N1 flu, I felt it was my obligation, no my duty, to provide adequate information to my 15-year-old step-son. So I slipped this into his bathroom when he wasn’t looking...

Perhaps I should hang it on his bedroom door instead...

My dog has diaherra and other summer tales...

My dog has diaherra, oh yes yes, she does. Within a mere 24 hours, she graced us with 5 packages; some large, some small, some solid, some not, yet fortunately all outside.

This all from a recent vet visit where she received her second distemper shot and heartworm pill. It must be a reaction, but yesterday she had an accident in her kennel.

You could tell she felt bad about it, so I am going to call the vet today to see what we should do to resolve this.

But, really, I can’t talk about it....anymore...

***

There once was an English teacher and a high school librarian, who had nothing to do for two months.

So they read.

They read on the lawn, they read on the couch. They read in bed, or waiting in the car at the yarn store while ‘someone’ took her time.

Where did they get these books to read you may ask?

Some were from the librarian’s high school library, while others were from the English teacher’s library.

Of course they would partake in the offerings at the local public library.

Then there were the purchases from Amazon and Chapters, or while waiting for the next bus, one would pop into Coles...

There are books about Britain, knitting, vets and doctors. And dysfunctional relationships or the Second World War.

How to grill or crochet, herb garden or stitch. Horror, drama, satire and some just low-brow romance.

Oh yes, it is going to be a fine summer indeed...

Meet Zadie...

This week we finally found our perfect puppy (she is sleeping over the air conditioning vent right now).

We have talked about a puppy for awhile, but I felt that deep inside I was never quite prepared for one. You see, I was not raised with “animals” (as my mother put it) in the house, so pee-pee accidents never concerned me.

We found Zadie online, hey, this just happens to be how Jerome and I met. It worked for us and, yes folks, it can work for puppies too.

You do have to be careful meeting puppies ( and people) online. Our first puppy experience was not a good vibe .

We were told it was a purebred, “Do you have the papers?” NO

We were told it was up-to-date on her shots, “Do you have the vet record?” NO

Ah...then no.

We met Zadie (formerly known as the artist 'Tiny') on Tuesday and met her dad too, Sam.

Sam is 2 ½ and is a purebred Shih-Tzu. As for Zadie’s mom? Never met her, but she is half Shih-Tzu and half Bison Frise.

So we took one look at her ...sold.

I was playing it cool, like I was buying a car,keeping my cards close to my chest. Jerome, however, was rolling around on the grass with her. Our cover was totally blown.

We get to the car (as we decided that under no circumstances will we look at a dog and take her/him home the same day) and Jerome turns into a five-year-old. “Can we get her...can we get her? Can we get her NOW?”

We drive away.

I had to talk him out of it, “We have no food at home; we are not prepared for a puppy tonight”.

I mean, I knew we were going to get her. I just needed one last full night’s sleep, to be mentally and physically prepared and to make sure I felt the same way about her when I got home.

We get home and immediately called the owner to plan pick-up the following day.
So...guess who was at Walmart at 11 p.m. that night? Not that there is anywhere else you can go buy puppy supplies at 11 p.m. at night. By the time we got home I was exhausted. Then Jerome wanted to discuss names....

Why, for the love of god, why?! I was delirious at this point.

He felt we should do something literary since he is an English teacher and I am a librarian.

If it was a boy dog it would have been easy...Mr. Darcy (from Pride and Prejudice), but a girl dog proved harder to name. I am seriously thinking of getting another dog just to use this name, people!

I liked Maude (after the cult flick Harold and Maude), its unique, quirky but more suited for an older dog; she would have to grow into it. Plus it didn’t seem that fun. I just couldn’t think of a cool literary female reference.

Jerome went online and started surfing dog name sites, at this point it is midnight, I am in bed and beat. Then I thought of one of my favourite authors,

Zadie Smith.

Done.

Jerome liked it, I liked it. It was Sadie with a Z.

So, the following day we pick her up. We are given a kennel, food and her vet papers.

Jerome takes one look at the kennel and said “I am not taking that thing in the house!” It was beat up, dirty and duct-taped together,missing screws.

Once we got home I took it apart, cleaned it thoroughly and went next door to or lovely neighbour, John, who is a retired mechanic and he found me some nuts and bolts to do the job. It now looks great.

I must admit, I was worried that we would not sleep at night after putting her in there. She cried for 10-15 mintues and slept. The following morning Jerome removed her and she had no accidents and dutifully went outside.

She has been an amazing puppy thus far; easy-going, playful but not too hyper, and just rolls with the punches. Everyone who meets her falls in love with her as we have.

I feel so lucky that I met the second love of my life also online!

I am ready for my close-up Mr. De Mille...

So, about that movie set thing I mentioned in my last blog. I am...now brace yourself....an extra.

Jerome has been doing it for years, he was in Capote ( when Philip Seymour Hoffman asked him what book he was reading), A Bear Named Winnie ( when he wore wool in July), and who can forget Hell on Wheels: The Battle of Mary Kay ( where he had the distinct pleasure of catching a shoe hurled by Parker Posey).

So when Jerome got a desperate call that they were looking for paid background for The Don Cherry Story, he asked if I was interested. Let’s see, sit around all day, play dress up, get paid and knit...I’m in.

So we headed to Selkirk, MB to an ice rink. They dressed us in 50s, 60s and 70s looks and placed us in a crowd to cheer on command.

I was dressed in 50s gear with a long wool coat; perfect to hide my knitting. I would bring it out between takes and knit away, then hide it when someone would yell “Here we go!” I just wish they would have had the courtesy to wait until I got to the end of the row!

Half way through the day, after successfully hiding my knitting, I hear someone yell "Hey, lady with knitting", ohmigod I am in trouble. "Yeah you" ( who else would it be) "Keep knitting, you are a 1950s housewive, your husband has dragged you to a game, keep knitting". Score!

It seems like a simple task, being an extra, but once you are nearing your 13th hour you start to question what you are doing there? I mean, I could barely stand, let alone give them a spontaneous burst of energy.

And the people, well...let me tell you. They were either “been doing this for twenty years” or film students with delusions of grandeur. Yet we also met some nice folk, like the guy who brought his parents who so clearly was living in their basement, or the lovely young couple who were yelled at because they ate food from the actors’ table ( I was wondering where they got those scrambled eggs from). You see, we are not worthy; we are a step above “volunteer” but miles below “performer”. Here are just a few of the instructions that we were given prior to attending our gig:

· Do not speak to the performers (unless spoken to)
· Do not sit in a chair with a name on it– not kidding
· Lunch will be provided...at 4 p.m. (4 o'clock?)

All in all, it was not that horrific because we did it again. Two days that we will never get back, but $600 in our pockets and some cute photos for a memory.

Diane...I’m calling from the road...

As any good knitter should, one must pass on her knowledge [addiction] to others...if they will let her.

Well I found my knitting student [victim] at work, a lovely newbie (named J) who has been watching me knit for months and has decided to join in the fun.

J has been doing quite well on her scarf, just straight knitting and we both felt that she was ready to learn something new...the purl stitch.

This weekend J is going to a wedding in Regina and since she will be spending copious amounts of time in the car, why not knit, as I know I would if there was no fear of throwing up all over myself (damn car sickness).

So I was making a dishcloth and she felt ready for such a challenge.

I typed up the pattern for her; carefully providing explanation of all the abbreviations (I don’t want to scare my new knitting friend away now, I just found her).I presented it to her at lunch yesterday and gave her a crash course on the purl stitch. She seemed to take to it like a fish to water, but I remember my early knitting days and how once I was alone, with no one to guide me, I would quickly forget the stitch. To make things more complicated J had to learn the seed stitch for the border.

Later that night, I explained to Jerome that I was teaching J and he made the mistake of asking me about it. I went on and on about the stitches and how if this is done incorrectly how there can be a problem, and how to recognize the difference between knits and purls...then I looked at him...and his eyes were glazed over...”You lost me at hello” he quipped.

The next day I am at work, when the phone rings. I pick it up with my usual greeting.....

“Diane...[static in the background] I’m calling from the road...”

It was J...somewhere on the TransCanada Highway...my knitting friend was in trouble. J has fallen down the well and she needed help, wait a minute, does this make me Lassie in this scenerio?

We couldn’t stop laughing but managed to sort through her dilemma ( at least I hope we did).

Way to go J!

You aren’t going to let cellphone roaming fees and bad tower reception get in the way of you learning to knit!

I think I may have her hooked ... [evil grin]. As long as she doesn't call me at 3 in the morning...

Speaking of knitting...

My friend Liana turned forty this week and we had a surprise bday party for her last weekend. I wanted to make her a scarf...a lace scarf for her prezzie.

I have never made a lace scarf before; it’s just like a regular scarf but with holes in it, right? I gave myself three weeks, plenty of time to complete my mission, or so I thought...

Life has a way of getting IN the way of your knitting. Unexpected events happened, both positive and negative, and I was really pushing it to get this damn scarf done on time! Near the end, I was telling myself this is what it must be like to experience child birth! There is a lot of pain now, but once you see the finished product you forget all about the hardship.

It was,without a doubt, the hardest pattern I ever attempted. I kept making errors, pulling out rows and cursing. It was rather humbling and taught me I still have a lot to learn.

Liana’s scarf went everywhere with me:

To the hospital – “What are you knitting?” the nurse asked. “A lace scarf”, I replied. “Oh, I knit my husband a scarf once”, she continued “it took me two years”. “Does he wear it?” I asked. “No”, she stated.”We split up and I never gave it to him.”

Ummm...okay, how do I respond to this?

“Well,” not knowing what to say “At least you get to keep the scarf.”

I knit at work- I knit every day at work, people are used to it by now.

On a movie set- more about this in a later blog

On the bus- Oh yes, I managed to knit without puking. I think it was out of sheer mercy that the good Lord allowed this to happen.

In the end it was worth all the blood (no one died), sweat and tears for such a good friend who appreciated it immensely.

During the evening someone approached me, offering to pay me to make her one of my scarves.

Let’s see, it took about a billion hours, there are the psychiatric bills, shock therapy, not to mention the chronic night sweats; I graciously declined ( thinking “You can’t afford me sucker”).

So I did what any knitter would do, when they receive the ultimate form of flattery , by someone admiring your work so much that they want to throw cash at you to recreate it...

I offered to do it for free.....now who’s the sucker?

And then she twirled...

I know it has been a while blog-lookers, yet these last two weeks have been rather strained. A man dear to me has been in the hospital with heart problems. He is like a second father to me and I have been spending much time there. Things are looking up for his health as he is scheduled to go home tomorrow.

Now,

My favourite Fleetwood Mac song is “Silver Springs”, replacing my original fav “Landslide” which lost its number one ranking due to the Dixie Chicks version. How unfortunate.

I have always loved Stevie Nicks, I remember watching her on TV when I was nine and wanting to be just like her.... minus the cocaine addiction and relationship stuff. To me, she was everything a woman should be; sexy, talented and let’s not forget a snappy dressy. She had her own unique style with confidence to pull it off. I would shut my bedroom door and twirl and twirl (just like Stevie) until I felt nauseous, which would not take long since I could get carsick whenever I rode in the back seat of a car.

So, yesterday I saw Stevie Nicks in concert (with Fleetwood Mac of course). We had possibly two of THE worst seats in the house, as nose bleed as a seat can get, but I didn’t mind. There she was on the jumbo screen. I commented to Jerome how wonderful she looked and he burst my bubble with “Yeah, but what does she look like up close”.

Three weeks ago they were performing in Vancouver and Stevie only did half the show due to illness, but she was in full form last night. She did twirl, in case you were wondering, managed a mere six costume changes throughout the evening and sounded amazing. She still looks super hot for a 60 year old.


The last song they finished with was “Don't Stop”, which Jerome successfully predicted, or so he thought. He wanted to get a jump on the crowd so he asked if we could leave before the end of the song. We were walking toward the exit doors and I asked him if he thought that was it, “Would they come back for another song?” I wondered. We waited as the lights were not turning on....and then it happened.....
Silver Springs.
So...

I just gave him one of my looks, as I often do, turned around and ran back to the nearest entrance. Jerome apologized and was a tad stunned that they ended the show this way.

Well of course they did, Stevie knows it’s my favourite.

May Long Weekend and other stories...

My dear friend, Megan, turned thirty this week and to celebrate our group converged on Jeremy’s family cabin in Kenora. Now, the last time we were in Kenora we hit a deer on the highway, so let’s say I was a tad tense on the trip out. We saw at least a dozen deer by the road, but made it there successfully.

Megan really liked her prezzies, a scarf...


And a cross-stitch of her favourite word.


We danced, canoed, painted rocks, went for walks while some skipped stones or just hung out. On Saturday night we had a camp fire and this huge dog appeared and decided to join the party. I really wanted to take this dog home, as she was gentle, didn’t beg for food and was sort of an ‘old soul’. But she was about 120 lbs and it was obvious she belonged to a neighbour by her healthy appearance.

We dubbed her “Bear” and I was convinced she was an angel sent from heaven which eventually altered her name to “Angel Bear”. She even came back the following day and swam in the water while we canoed, laid in the sun on the deck when we had lunch and bid us farewell as we drove away. Whatever we were doing, wherever we were, she was not far behind.



A real-life Littlest Hobo....I heart her.
________________________________________________________________


Before I forget to mention

Another recent gift I made was for Dude.


Dude and I went to library school together and now work in the same school division. Not everyone gets prezzies in the inter-office mail run. I appreciate her friendship and the fact that she is just an email away when I need to vent, so thanks Dude for being such a good dude to me.
____________________________________________________________________
Now, back to the weekend...

We arrived home early for a long weekend, a whole day early in fact.

Jerome had this plan that he would get on the horn and order the soil we needed for our garden and flower beds. Now remember, it is late Sunday afternoon, it is a loooong weekend and the next day is a holiday. Somehow the soil-gods were smiling on him because he successfully procured six cubic yards of soil, at a price $60 cheaper than the quotes we received, to be delivered on the holiday Monday.
God Jerome, you’re good.

Then it dawned on us...we don’t have a wheel-barrow!
Jump in the car, stores close within the hour, bring it home and take another hour to put it together...now we were set.

Then it arrived. It didn’t look like that much, it spread over 12 feet squared and for some reason I thought it would be bigger...not that I have ever uttered those words before.


We spent the better part of the day shovelling and raking, bending and lifting, between the cool wind and threats of rain. I lost count of the wheel-barrow fulls we transported throughout the yard. One neighbour filled up the tire on the wheel-barrow (did I mention it was flat?) and another lent us the use of his roto-tiller.

Then the kids appeared with shovels...

Three neighbourhood kids descended, eager to help. More soil ended up in the driveway (parts on the driveway where there was no soil before) than in the target bucket.

I tried to stop them, honestly I tried. I don't know if it was the fatigue, or hunger, but they overcame me and wore me down as they insisted on helping. So, I let them...until one of them quipped "Just how much are you going to pay us for this anyways?" This became the end of their short-lived careers as soil movers. Please note: no children were harmed in the moving of this soil.

By the end of the day it was a lot of work, yet there was a great sense of pride that we had accomplished it. Although some of us like to stop to take pictures while others (aka me) soldiered on...Seriously, I think I surprised Jerome that I could work this hard!


It was a grand day indeed. Until I tried to get out of bed the next morning...

For the love of god...

What has happened to my baby toe? I have no recollection of bumping it over the weekend, but boy does it smart!

Looks like I will be wearing flip-flops to work this week...

yarn-a-holic

I like to buy yarn....lots and lots of yarn.

I have yarn in bags...

Yarn in baskets...

And of course yarn in my dresser drawers...

I buy cheap 3 balls for a $1 yarn and sometimes the finer $10 + a skein. I’m not prejudiced; I am an equal opportunity yarn hoarder.

A recent find was this beautiful hand dyed 100% alpaca yarn that I scored in the clearance section for a mere $2 a skein. How could one pass this up? I bought 6 skeins each, hopefully enough to make 4 scarves, but usually I have no project in mind when I make my yarn purchases. I buy simply for the pleasure to buy.

Someday I plan to create a big pile of yarn in my spare bedroom and just roll around in it like leaves in the fall, but far more colourful.

I am a good dobie though when it comes to my finances. I always pay my credit card off every month and as I made such a transaction this weekend I was compelled, by some force greater than myself, to make a yarn purchase. So I went online...

$100 later....I have a problem. Just when you think you have this thing beat, it rears its ugly head and calls out to me.

Hey...I could be addicted to crack.

As George Carlin once said “Just cause you got the monkey off your back doesn't mean the circus has left town.”

Yes, we have no bananas and other gross stories...

Apparently, my entire life, I have been eating bananas the wrong way.

A co-worker was telling me at lunch that she had been informed by a Latin American man that North Americans (you and I) eat bananas incorrectly.

Seriously, I don’t know how we even got on this topic, but it made me wonder what she meant by this. With the peel?

What we do in error is we eat the fruit upside down. The correct way to eat a banana is to peel it on the black end and use the stem as a handle.

Madness! I say. But no, she told me that it's the cat's ass...

I really felt that I wasn’t going to change 40 years of my eating habits for this exaggerated description of Shangri-la.

So, when no one was looking, I turned my banana upside down and gave it a go.

People, I am here to tell you that this is amazing!

It is a comfortable grip, almost ergonomic, and I wonder why this phenomenon has not caught on here.

My life has been made more enjoyable and so can yours.

If it’s good enough for the monkeys, it’s good enough for me!

Don’t judge a patron by his book choice

I decided to leave work today by the side door. As I walked around to the front of the school, I noticed a student with his hood up, standing very close to the building.

He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, oh yes he was....urinating on the school.

Now, I am the type of person who cannot walk by something like this and let it go, so say “You are not doing what I think you are doing, are you?”

He stops, but doesn’t turn around. I was still walking by, just slower, as I notice he is indeed pissing in front of the VP’s window.

I remark, “Stop that right now”, later I was informed by Jerome that guys simply can’t stop on command. Well, this kid did.

I ended with a firm, but simple, “That’s disgusting!”

I am certain I scared the crap (ohmigod, was that next) out of him.

The culprit, a student who mere hours before was in the library asking for SAT books to help him study for his exams, appeared embarrassed and apologetic.

Knowing your librarian knows you pee on walls is punishment enough.

Let’s face it... kids do stupid things. I am just thankful that I have hand sanitizer by my desk.

Who knows what that SAT book will go through before it gets returned.

I think for his next book I will recommend something suitable for a quick read...in the BATHROOM!

And he was never seen in a library ever again...

Who's afraid of the big bad plant?

I just returned from my final low maintenance bedding plant class and have learned the following:

- Low maintenance does not mean No maintenance

- Rabbits destroy things

- If you have thousands of dollars, you too can have a professionally landscaped yard

- And, the kicker, when you buy something on a whim and stick it in your yard in the fall, it might be a good idea to write down what you put in the friggin’ ground!!!!!

I am overwhelmed ... by plants. And at this point I am really wondering if anything is going to even get in the ground this year. There’s the stacking stone edging we plan to tackle ourselves, amending the soil ( good thing there wasn’t a test on this in my course) and those rabbits are going to keep me up at night with worry!

Oh, and did I mention the lilac bush? The unknown variety of lilac that we plunked in the ground (it actually made that sound, poor thing) about 12 inches from the edge of a 4 foot bed.

Just imagine it as Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree's little cousin.

The lilac that I discovered grows anywhere from 6 to 10 ft tall and just about as wide.

The aforementioned plant that Jerome and I have had several
‘discussions’regarding.

That lilac?

Baby needs to find a new home.

It might not happen until after midnight,and Jerome is asleep, but it is going to happen.

Cute side story from the garden centre.
I was wondering around trying to find a trellis as Jerome perused the fertilizer. Lately he has this sort of glint in his eye and spring in his step whenever we do anything garden related. As he read the various labels, he couldn’t help but notice two young men ( gawd, I feel old just saying that) standing beside a pallet of fertilizer in deep conversation.

Imagine the Canadian, younger version of Cheech and Chong

“ Wow, we’re gonna be here all day” the first stoner said, “there’s too many kinds”.

“Yeah”, the second (more paranoid) one replied. “And the worst part is we can’t even ask someone”.



And I think I will end with this...

Fine, but why is the doll going?

I thought Saturdays were for relaxing?

I am spinning my wheels today.

We went to a birthday breakfast this morningfor Henry ( my sister’s father-in-law). The whole family was there.

I love to tease my nephew, Mason, who is turning nine this summer. I always ask what his girlfriend’s name is and he scrunches up his face.

I decided to be ‘good’ and just asked “What’s new?”

“Well,” he commented rather seriously, “I had a shower today”.

I was meaning in a broader sense.

The remainder of the breakfast involved a highly detailed conversation with a five year old, Raya who does not believe in Santa Claus and just needed to get that off her chest. She did however confide in me that she does not tell this to the other children her age because she knows this will disappoint them.She was quite the conversationalist.

Then straight to kick boxing where Jerome , who ate a little too much, was worried of the consequences. He was fine. Our instructor recently won the featherweight woman’s championship of the world. Yes, the WORLD.

She is one tough cookie, but she makes you want to work hard for her, except for when you are plotting her death because she just doesn’t let up.

On our way home, I notice a neighbour working in her yard. I walked over to introduce myself and ask about her stacking stones (which we are planning to do in our yard). Well, I think I have found a friend. Her son plays with Ryan on his school soccer team. She saw Leonard Cohen the other night and has tickets to Fleetwood Mac in June (just like us)....She’s a keeper. I wonder if she knits?

Have you seen the latest potato-head commercial?

Gotta go, off to the garden centre then another birthday bash!

You're my man...

First, a quick comment about the show last night. I have found a new religion and its name is Leonard Cohen. What a performer! He sounded amazing, his show was flawless and he appeared ever so humble. It was worth every penny and the kicker was that the lovely Rhonda secretly upgraded our seats and I found myself on the floor, ninth row center. Pure magic!


Meet Ken...


I own a Ken doll.He resides on my desk in the library. The girls play with him and the boys place him in the most unfortunate positions.

Ken was gifted to me many years ago from a family member. It was a gift for no other reason than to shut me up for years of complaining. My complaint was simple. “The reason I have had all of these dysfunctional relationships with men is because I didn’t have a Ken doll growing up.” I never learned how to play nice with boys. Well, it seemed to have broken the spell.

So, now that you know who Ken is, here is the story.

A student from my school was planning a trip to England for an extended Spring break. I have always wanted to go, and someday I most definately will.

Usually on a daily basis I would ask if I could come along. "Perhaps there was room in your suitcase?", yet no amount of pleading seemed to work. Until one day, when she was playing with Ken (as the girls do), it dawned on me.

“What about Ken?” I asked. “Ken would love to go with you”.

And the rest as they say....is history.

Consider this a plastic version of Flat Stanley.

So, here’s Ken @ Stonehenge...




And consuming his first pint...



You can’t have a pint without chips at Leicester Square...



Then Ken went to Greenwich...



And visited his mummie at the British Royal Museum...


Okay, so the kids think I am insane. I even had a “Ken is away on holidays” sign when he was gone. But I am deadly impressed that ‘L’ (the student in question) took all these great pics for me and brought him back with both his shoes.

Ken also returned with his new friend “Action Man” (aka Mike’s doll or aka Ken's life partner).

Now if I can just convince someone to take Ken to grad. Talk about living vicariously through others.

Anyone know where I can find a really small tux?

Guess what?!?!?

I was out for dinner with Jerome prior to our salsa dance class tonight. We were sitting in a booth at the Elephant and Castle Pub downtown peering out of the large window at the street view.

As we were chatting and people watching, an older man stopped in front of the window after being approached by a panhandler. He dug deep into his pockets and produced some coins, dropping them into the other man's hands with a lovely grin on his face.

Leonard Cohen is such a nice man.

I am so glad he didn't look in our direction, as my mouth fell to the floor. It was strange because, he is just a man, like any other, and he looked so small in stature to what one would imagine an icon to be.

I watched as the other man stumbled across the street completely unaware of who just gave him some change.

I wanted to run up to him and say "Hey, I'll give you five bucks for that quarter."

___________________________________________________________________

Well, Leonard, I will be in row 39 on the floor tomorrow night at your concert, so just wink so I know that you read this. You are a very nice man.

The F word

About ten years ago I was an avid cross-stitcher. I made wedding, baby and retirement announcements, and even country kitchen motifs. Then I developed some taste...

Seriously, I was sick and tired of the kitschy look and really, if I wasn’t going to hang it in my house I shouldn’t expect someone else to hang it in theirs. Let alone ADMIT that I had lovingly created it!

So I put down my needle, friends, and called it quits to cross-stitch.

Until I discovered Subversive Cross Stitch: 35 Designs for Your Surly Side by Julie Jackson, doesn’t it sound simply naughty? Basically, it’s cross-stitch with an edge; raunchy, ballsy, ruthless cross-stitch. Girl, we were separated at birth.

Oh yes, I have picked up my needle again. The mother ship has landed!

A dear friend is turning 30 soon and I can’t wait to stitch the word ‘fuck’ for her!

Cause that’s how much I care...

#@%&!!

I love everything British! Especially their TV...

I am an Anglophile. I like tea, the Queen and especially British humour. That dry, witty, sarcastic banter that I feel I can hold my own with...on a good day.

The Brits know how to do TV right. They don’t mess around, six episodes a series (season) and they’re done, in and out, leaving you wanting more...

You know where this is going, don’t you?

Here are my top picks from the Brits ( in no particular order), highly recommended and if you ask me very nicely I may even let you borrow one of my box sets? Oooo, box set, that’s sounds sort of wrong, doesn’t it?

Coronation Street – No brainer. You know they must be doing something right if it’s been on the tube for almost 45 years. It’s like Shakespeare, the comedy, the tragedy, the antics. I love it and I love nothing more than watching it with my love. And, as you may have guessed this one was longer than six episodes.

So here are some shows that you may not have heard of:


Life on Mars – Now, I don’t usually go for cop shows, but when Sam Tyler gets in a car crash and is transported back to 1973, you just have to have a go. It’s sci-fi meets COPS, and you can laugh at the bad clothing and cheesy-car-chase scenes. This went for two series and there is also a follow-up called ‘Ashes to Ashes’ where a woman detective is transported to the ‘80s.

The Amazing Mrs. Pritchard – Green grocer turned Prime Minister? Highly unlikely? The lovely Jane Horrocks leads a feminist revolution in British politics. How a seemingly happy family copes with the stresses of the ‘ultimate job’. You go girl!




The IT crowd – Wow, do you ever wonder what computer techs’ lives are really like? Well, look no further in this low brow (still rather hilarious) comedy of ...well, nerds. A pair of socially awkward IT guys have their troubles coping with a new boss, a woman boss, who knows nothing about computers. Turns out she is as much as misfit as they are. 2 hilarious series.






The Street – Gritty drama where each episode takes you into a house of another tenant who lives on the street. Dark, dark stuff, affairs, abuse, suicide and crime. Superbly acted, but it took us a long time to get through this series because it was so INTENSE. Worth a watch though. 2 series.

Now for my two favs, with the exception of Corrie.

Bob and Rose – Can a gay man fall in love with a straight woman? Well, they are going to have a helluva time trying. Warm, funny and real, this will make you smile one minute and cry the next. And there is an insane fag-hag and over-the-top supportive mother to boot. I loved it. Six blissful episodes...

And finally....

Are you ready?
Gavin and Stacey – THIS SHOW WAS AWESOME!!!! Comedy about an Essex boy and a Welsh girl who fall in love. Incredibly funny and sweet with each show ending making you go ‘Awwwwww’. The roles of the two co-stars (and oddily enough, also the show's co-creators) will make you want to go 'Urgh, are they actually showing us this on telly'.

We watched this right through one lazy Sunday and we couldn’t get enough. Thankfully they are working on the third season.

I don't get people

An older lady walks into the school library today.

She appears to be a sub; it’s busy so I don’t give her a second thought.

She approaches me after a few minutes and asks ““how do I get out of the library?”

Ummm…

“The same way you got in “, I respond.

“You mean through that door?” she points to the main door she stepped through just moments ago.

Not kidding. This is too good to make up.
Are they pulling people off the street for these jobs?

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Another ‘cute’ library moment today. I am sitting at my desk, which has two glass doors infront of me. I am usually tempted to ask “would you like fries with that?” on a daily basis when someone approaches the window.

It usually obstructs my view, but not today.

Directly infront of me, not ten feet a way, a student is sitting and ripping full pages out of a periodical. Just flipping a page—RIP—flip, flip, flip -–RIP.

I don’t even get up and I ask “Is that a current magazine?” The reason I ask this, rather calmly, is because we do have a box of discards that we let the student cut up for projects. The current magazines are not even close to this box and have clear signage that states “PLEASE DO NOT USE THESE MAGAZINES FOR CUT OUTS’’.

She wouldn’t, she couldn’t, would she?

“No”, she states confidently.

“Well”, I say (remaining calm). “Does it have a barcode on the back cover?”

She flips it over and sure enough --- Teen Vogue, May 2009

“Yeah”, I say, “You are going to have to pay for that.”

If you ever have anger management issues, don’t work in a high school library.

Savouring my Sunday...

I love and hate Sundays.

Coronation Street in bed (love)

Nagging feeling of returning to another work week (hate)

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We had my pal Betty over for a belated 50th birthday celebration brunch. Jerome was an amazing host, as always, and it was great to catch up with a dear friend that I do not see nearly enough. Betty has refused to partake in showing you her photo, which btw she looks amazing for an old broad. And I am delighted she liked the pink scarf , so much infact because I detest pink and am glad it has now found a worthy home. Rock on Betty, you look hot!

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I was introduced to My First Dictionary by my cohort, Mike. He always knows of the best blogs and likes to fill my head with "useless" information while we work in the hope that someday I might win a pub trivia competition.

This blog was indeed a true find, almost makes me want to shape young minds in an elementary school... well, almost.






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The house is so quiet. Jerome went to drive Betty home and pick up Ryan (aka 15 year-old-soccer star) on their way to drop him off at a practice. It all sounds very logistic, but its not.

On their way out the door there were hugs goodbye and I thought I should get Jerome to mess with his son's mind ( that's my role as evil step-monster). "Tell Ryan that Betty is now his new step-mom ,that you dumped me for her and that I said goodbye", I quipped.

"Oh...and he still has my library book."