HOLD ON TO YOUR HATS! I actually baked.

Ok. So it came out of a box. So I only had to boil water and add an egg. It still counts! I never bake (I'm not very good at following instructions). I took pictures as evidence so my mother would believe me. Needless to say it was mediocre at best.

This weekend I will attempt cupcakes... out of the box. And possibly bannana bread, but I'm scared.

Trouble on Eight Legs

These are my kids. They were featured a while back, but let me introduce them again... The Siamese is Felix, and the Grey and White is Samantha. They are trouble on eight legs. They get into everything! Paper scraps are their absolute favourite, but they'll settle for anything that's chewable or makes crinkly noises.

They used to hate each other. Hard to believe eh? I should mention that the basket they're sleeping in is Samantha's bed. She doesn't like to share and would normally sit on Felix until he moved, but on this day she was content to snuggle with him. They are both crammed in this box so tight that the sides were bending out! Aren't they cute?

God I miss shopping.

Remember the days when we all had money? Sigh. I do. I am a self-diagnosed shop-a-holic. Resisting the temptation to buy a new sweater, or some scrapping supplies, or a new purse is a challenge for me... especially the purses. How I love a new bag. Since the economic craziness started I've had to scale back... WAAAAYYYYY back. Which is not an un-due hardship, but in order to avoid spending money I have simply stopped visiting my favourite stores so as not to lead myself to temptation. After all, a recovering crack addict wouldn't hang out with their dealer now would they? Unfortunately, I've since discovered that shopping is a big part of my well being. It makes me feel good, both about myself, and my home. I like to have new shiney things,(hubby likens me to a raven collecting bits of tin to put in her nest). I miss the self-confidence boost that comes with buying a new outfit. Especially since I've dropped the equivalent of 4 bags of potatoes worth of fat and am now feeling much better about myself.

I have placated myself by shopping at Value Village, which is the local thrift store. It's brilliant really. You'd be surprised at the amount of new stuff people just give away. I came home with a whole summer wardrobe for $50. I would have spent 4 times that in a new store. However, even that is a stretch right now if I want to keep up with my financial goals.

I have now settled for challenging myself to reuse what I already have in creative ways. I have started wearing belts and scarves, (unheard of previously), and changing my jewelry, combining 2 pieces at a time... and keeping all my old purses so I can change them whenever I get bored. I've also started using anything and everything I can find for scrapping. Odd bits I thought never to use have been re-purposed, painted, or cut down. This almost satisfies my inner-shopper... almost.

What are you doing to cut back, but still have fun?

Caution... I offend easily without thinking.

Maybe I should get that tattooed on my forehead... what do you think, colour or black and white?

After reading the lovely comments left on yesterday's post I was quite shocked. I off-handedly (Jinksy, is that even a word?) called everyone who doesn't wear a helmet stupid.. which is a word that I tend to over use. Mostly I was just expressing my frustration about my concern for hubby, not trying to insult the rest of the planet, (should they share his views). I am also not in the habit of calling my hubby stupid, nor do I believe he really IS stupid. I SHOULD have said stuborn, pigheaded,and ignorant... see? There I go again. Needless to say, he usually finds me entertaining and I am not a man-abuser! Please read my posts with a grain of salt, if I tend to rant with colourful language, it is usually meant to entertain and not to hurt. I would never intentionally write something in a public forum to hurt someone else. When I get stressed about something, I tend to develop a sarcastic tone and make a joke out of it... probably not the healthiest coping mechanism, but I like to laugh.

To anyone who may have been offended, my profound appologies. I write to entertain myself, and anyone else who happens to pop in. I am extremely grateful for all of your comments, and your honesty.

Only stupid people don't wear helmets.

Hubby got hit by a car last month. Idiot. He was riding his bicycle when some lady pulled out of Tim Hortons and smoked him. The bike went under the car, and hubby went over. Thankfully the only casualty was the bicycle. Hubby ended up with a separated shoulder, but was ok. Needless to say, this incident freaked me out, and has made me more than a little paranoid since. Enter the evil helmet discussion.

In Ontario, it is law for anyone under 18 to wear a helmet when riding a bicycle. However, if you are an adult, you may use your own judgement, (or lack there of). After hubbys recent ambulance ride, I asked him to wear one. He refused. He is afraid of looking stupid... as if walking around with a smashed-in skull would make him look cool. "Chick's dig scars", he said. I pleaded, begged and cried. Nothing worked. He flat out refuses to be safe. Now I get this sick feeling every time he goes out. If he's late, I have visions of fantastic smash-ups involving various degrees of destruction to both hubby and vehicle. He could alleviate all of this craziness by just putting the damn thing on his head. Why are men so dumb? Stupid Question.

What do you think? Helmet, or no helmet?

Yogurt does not go with everything.

Somebody put watermelon in my yogurt. And cantaloupe, AND hondeydew melon. I was grocery shopping in a hurry last week and picked up the first package of individual yougurts I saw and hurried to the checkout. As you may have guessed by now, I do most things in a hurry... well, more of a panicked dash really, as I am generally late for everything. Right. Back to the yogurt. I zoomed home with my groceries, threw them in the fridge, and promply forgot about them - as by that time there were several other emergencies that needed my attention.

The next day I brought the yogurt to work. Without looking at the container I opened it and ate some. BLECK. Somebody put watermelon in my yogurt. Why would they do that? More importantly, why would I BUY it? I am really going downhill with my shopping track record. Sigh. I probably would have paid more attention if I knew people were manufacturing that crap. Yoplait, if you're reading this, are you out of your MIND? Why would you take perfectly good yogurt and make it taste like THAT? I've been trading with the accounting lady at work for her normal kinds. You know, blueberry, strawberry, that sort of thing.

I should manage that I pulled out the next kind this morning and it has Coconut in it... BLECK! Someone put coconut in my yogurt...

Evil Shoes Of Death.

Sorry for my long absence from the world of blogging. Summer time is insane to begin with and this one was particularly crazy. As usual, I over-scheduled myself for almost EVERYTHING. Why do I always think I'm super woman? No idea.

I missed blogging terribly. There's some kind of therapy involved in writing a short blurb everyday. And maybe it doesn't matter to most people, but it matters to some, and for those of you that missed me while I was away, thank-you. I missed you too!

Enough Mush. On to today's topic: Shoes of death!

I bought a pair of shoes yesterday. There were on sale. I didn't really LOVE the way they fit my feet, but they were only 6 dollars! How could I pass that up? The store I purchased the shoes from was carpeted. I pranced around quickly, threw them in my basket and went on my merry way. Yesterday I put them on, fully intending to wear them to brunch. My floor is linoleum. You can see where I'm going with this, can't you? I took two steps and promptly fell on my a#$. I picked the shoes up and actually LOOKED at the bottom,(which from this point on will become part of my routine upon footwear purchase), they are made of HARD PLASTIC! Who makes the bottom of shoes out of hard plastic? Did they run out of rubber? Was the machine broken? Do they have 100% carpeted floors in Thailand (country of origin of shoes of death). Unfortunately I can't find the receipt for the 6 dollar shoes, which are now in the trash. I literally THREW them in the trash. Then I poured 3 day old bacon grease on top of them for effect. TAKE THAT EVIL SHOES OF DEATH! No longer will I purchase inferior footwear, no matter what the cost. I now have effectively thrown 6 dollars in the trash when I could have just bought a latte and a scone. Leason Learned.

Why read Fantasy?

My hubby is eternally puzzled about why I feel the need to pick up a fantasy novel when I could be reading a true crime, murder mystery, or some such other equally acceptable piece of literature. I say to him, I don't want to read something I can see on the news or CSI. I get my fill of that stuff everyday in real life. I want to read something that has it all: Mystery, adventure, war, murder, romance, sex, happily-ever-after, and the epitome of what every little girl wants: A fairy tale.

You see, I never got over my childhood dream of being a princess, of finding a frog and kissing it to rescue prince charming, of rescuing nations in distress from all means of magical mayhem. Why should I have to? I read in my spare time for fun, as a form of entertainment, and to exercise my creativity and imagination. When do we get too old for that? Answer: Never.

I'm not quite sure why I feel that twinge whenever I walk into the fantasy section at the bookstore... you know... that twinge that means other people are probably looking at you and thinking you're a weirdo. I look around and see many people that I would label as "nerdy" or strange. But who the hell cares about labels anyway? I read fairy tales for grown-ups (ok... and a little teen lit thrown in there), and dammit I'm proud!

Take what I'm reading currently for example. It's the sword of truth series. There are 10 books (I think), and they are so wonderful, I've read some of them half-a-dozen times. They are a worn and treasured favourite. I cry when the characters die (even though I KNOW they are going to die because I've read it before), I'm ecstatic when they win. I love to hate the bad guys, and love to cheer for the good guys. If you are enjoying twilight, or any other of the vampire culture books and are feeling the need for something more, this is the place to go.

Reading fantasy novels doesn't make you a nerd... it simply makes you well read!

P.S. The first book in this series is Wizards First Rule. Highly Recommended.

Suspicion Q&A

A few things I have learned in the past few weeks.

What is the greatest compliment you can give your partner? The benefit of the doubt. Believe in them, or go find someone you CAN believe in.

What is the fastest way to ruin a relationship? Constant accusations of cheating, which brings on self-rightous defense mechanisms, which lead to anger, frustration, and a need to eat an entire container of chocolate ice-cream. Confront your partner 1 time, if you are sure you have grounds, then drop it. If you are still suspicious, the trust with your partner has been broken and you have a serious problem. There is not enough chocolate ice-cream in the entire world to make you feel better.

What's the root cause of jealousy? Paranoia. Fear of losing something because of lack of self confidence. Your partner is with you because they saw something in you that was worth keeping. If you spend all of your time worrying about it disappearing, how will you ever enjoy it?

How to boost your self confidence? If you don't believe in yourself, niether will any one else. You cannot fully love someone else until you learn to love yourself. Lack of self-confidence brings misery for both of you. Stop carrying around all that unessesary stress and just LIVE. Perhaps you will no longer NEED the ice-cream, but will spend time enjoying it instead.

Life is hard enough without creating stress for you and your partner. If you can't get over your feelings, get help or get out! Life is too short to be miserable forever.

Vacation on a Budget

Like most of the rest of the world, we are a little short on cash at the moment. We are comfortable, but unfortunately the spend, spend, spend lifestyle we used to love is a thing of the past. Every year, I have the first 2 weeks of July off. Usually I would go up North to cottage-country and spend a blissful fortnight in the comforts of my childhood, but alas, this year we had to stay closer to home... very close to home... and while camping in the driveway was an option, I can't imagine sleeping on those little pointy stones. So instead, we came up with in-expensive day trips. I HAD SO MUCH FUN! We had Hubbys son for half of the time.

• Travel to a nearby beach on Lake Erie. Beautiful sand, freezing cold water, and lots of sunshine. Cost: 1 kite for $1.25, and $5 in gas. We had so much fun we went back for the next 2 days!
• Walked to a local festival. It was Ribfest, but due to the fact that we are watching what we eat, we opted to have dinner at home (plus it was within walking distance! Score!). Cost: $5 for an all day pass for the kids play zone - which consisted of giant inflatable bouncy attractions. The little munchkin could not get enough of these, and asked to go back after supper for some more fun! There was lots to see and local musical talent. Free admission.
• Went to the Wednesday market! I've never been able to go, as I'm always working or out of town, it was FANTASTIC. Basically like a giant flea market, with home baked goods, local artists, and crafts.
• Cleaned up the gardens and the front porch. Now I have a little paradise to relax in after work. It's beautiful. Hubby will make some new flower boxes for me next week. Cost: $20 in mulch (badly needed!)
• Read 2 complete novels on my newly cleaned front porch. I can't tell you what a luxury it was to have time to read. Cost: Free!
• Took the munchkin to see Ice Age 3: Dawn of the Dinosaurs. Cost: $30. It was a good movie, I'm a sucker for cartoons.
• Watched the entire first season of the show Dexter during the nights with hubby. If you haven't seen it, you should! Cost: Free.
• Visited the driving range (my god my golf swing is GONE). Had a lot of laughs, mostly at my expense. More fun in the sun. Cost: $9 for 2 large buckets of balls.

We did lots of crafts with the munchkin, and went to see him play baseball, (he was sooo cute) I'll try to post a pic later, but my camara is dead at the moment). I came back to work feeling relaxed and refreshed, without the stress that accompanies a long trip. It was wonderful. A vacation with all the comforts of home! Plus, I have a great tan.

How NOT to get promoted

So yesterday I had a bit of time at work and thought I would email this really funny joke to a co-worker of mine. I got it all ready and hit the send button with out checking the To: line. This is unfortunate. Instead of sending it to the co-worker intended, I sent it to the corporate accountant with the same first name. The picture was of me doing something silly as a child.

Original Email: HA! How cute am I?

Response from Corporate: Yes, you are very cute... but who are you? I think you've sent this to the wrong person...

My Reply To Corporate: Um.. yes. Very cute.. not so smart! Sorry about that!

Forward to correct recipient: I hope you find this really funny, because it's going to get me fired.

Thank god it wasn't something really inappropriate. With all the knowledge about how NOT to abuse my work internet privliges (I think I even had to sign a memo), you'd think I would know better. And I quote: Cute.. but not so smart!

What your kids do when you're not watching...

I have no idea how to post the actual video on my blog, so you'll have to click on the link and see the real thing. This is a real 911 call by a 4yr old boy. Super funny!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FT4NOe4vtoM

Stolen Memories

Is that a crazy looking baby or what? This is me at 1yr old. Apparently, I was a camara ham, and would pose dramatically whenever anyone had a lens on me. I prefer to think that I was just so cute, people couldn't resist!

I went home to mum's a couple of weekends ago for her birthday and stole most of her photo's to bring home and copy. Mostly to feed my scrapbooking addiction, and because I have almost no pictures of our family. If you're reading this, and you have children, take lots of photo's of them now! There are almost no photos of my brother and me together with our parents. Lots of baby photos, but almost nothing after that. There are some of the few vacations we took, but almost nothing with my parents in them. As my parents are getting older, it makes me a bit sad to know that I have so few images of us as a young family. So please, get out your camaras and snap, snap, snap.

Why do we never say what we mean?

I understand we were all raised to be polite individuals, not to upset anyone unless unavoidable, and to put other people before ourselves. I think these are all basically good life lessons... except somewhere along the way we stopped expressing ourselves completely. For example:

Polite: Can we talk?
Reality: I am REALLY pissed off and you'd better do something about it!

Polite: I see. Why would you think that?
Reality: You are being paranoid again, and aren't listening to what I'm saying.

Polite: I understand how you feel.
Reality: I will say absolutely anything to get this conversation over with.

Polite: I'm sorry.
Reality: I'm not really. I'm only saying that so you will stop nagging.

Polite: Nothing is wrong.
Reality: I'm going to make you suffer in silence until you can guess why you're in trouble.

Polite: I'm Fine.
Reality: You are in SOOOO much trouble that I can't even speak to you!

Polite: I need to be by myself right now.
Reality: I think that if we stay in the same room together for one more second, I'll throw something heavy at you. Or possibly something sharp and knife-shaped.

Polite: I'm doing my best to communicate effectively with you.
Reality: I'm so frustrated I want to pull out my eyeballs!!!! Why don't you listen to what I'm saying!!!

Polite: I think I need a drink.
Reality: I need a drink to numb the irritation. I may have two. Scratch that, I'll drink the whole damn bottle.

Who else has one?

Who knew so many people got up at 5am?

Yesterday I made a decision. Instead of going to the gym after work and spending an entire hour working out on the cardio machines (snore), I would break it up into 2 half hour sessions. One before work, and one after work. The gym is just around the corner from my house, so this is no big deal.

I got up at dark-oh-thirty this morning and threw on my gym clothes, (hubby was initially going to come with me, but backed out when I shoved him awake this morning and he realized I was serious). I jumped in the car, BEFORE coffee, and raced around the corner. I thought it was strange that there were so many cars in the parking lot, after all, the mall wouldn't be open for another 4 hours, but figured there was some kind of night inventory crew or something. I opened the doors and my jaw dropped. All of those people in the parking lot were IN THE GYM. So much for my quiet peaceful workout. Doesn't anyone have anything better to do at 5:30 in the morning? The only elliptical machine left was the squeaky one with the broken cardio-theatre hook-up... so my workout was silent. I tried not to be too miserable, after all, I hadn't had coffee yet so the quiet was probably better anyway. Except for the fact that I couldn't drown out the annoying squeaky noise with some Great Big Sea. Stupid squeaky noise. How much can a can of W-D40 possibly cost anyway? Damn, I'd even put some canola oil on it if that noise would stop. I couldn't believe the lady at the desk was peacefully reading her novel throughout my squeak-filled workout. Maybe she's deaf. I wrote a note in the suggestion box to fix the squeaky elliptical, which will probably go ignored... the box is really just there for decoration I think.

Tomorrow I shall try 5:15 and see if I can sneak in before the crowd. Don't people sleep in anymore?

Oh well. If this is the worst thing that happens in my day, all is good.

Vampire Culture Craze - True Blood Review

photo courtesy of http://www.true-blood.tv/Photos/Season1/Season1.html

It seems since the release of the series "Twilight", the world has gone Vampire crazy. In the past we've seen vampire horror flicks, from the cheezy "Blade" series, (which I happen to love), to the artful, "Interview with the vamipre" from the 90's. There are several new movies out, and a new HBO series which I recently discovered, (now that I FINALLY have cable again and the hockey playoffs are almost over). It's called True Blood. You have to be really interested in the whole vamipre thing, (which I am), to really enjoy it... otherwise it comes off as a cheezy, sleezy show with mediocre acting. However, I am super interested in the story line.

The entire premise of the show is based on the idea that synthetic blood can be manufactured, so vampires can live out in the open without threat to human life, ( I know, I know... very sci-fi... but come on, it IS about vampires after all). The vampires struggle to have the same civil rights as humans, and to fit in with human society without fear of persecution. Some vampires are "good", and some are not happy with the change in status and are still killing whom they please. There is also a whole sub-culture of sex-crazed vampire groupies who get paid to let vampires bite them.

However, with the good must also come the bad... there is just TOO much sex in this show. I didn't really need to see so much of the lovely Anna Paquin. I expected as much with an HBO series, as sex is what sells these days, but it borders on pornography. I've been reading reviews of season 2 and it appears that viewers are in for even more graphic sex scenes than were present in season 1. I wish they would tone it down a little, but who am I to judge?

Each episode ends with an incredible teaser that adds drama and keeps me watching. It's not nearly as addictive as Twilight, but it will keep me going until the next movie comes out in November.

Have you seen the show?

Dear Mom:

Today is your birthday. You are 50! I can hardly believe it. I know you are self-conscious and think you're getting old, but I think you're a magnificent, beautiful, and strong woman.

I am so grateful that you are my mother. I remember visiting friends as a child and was confused about why they didn't want to spend every second of the day with their mothers. They would go to extensive lengths to avoid them, and had none of the closeness that we have shared through-out the years. Looking back, I think they were envious of me, because I had the most amazing mother anyone could ever ask for! I know they all thought you were "cool", but that wasn't why they all loved you so. They would watch us and the love and affection that we so easily shared and wish for a piece of that for themselves. Most of my childhood friends ask about you every time I see them, not to be polite, but because they are genuinely concerned and care about your welfare.

For the last few years you have been struggling with an illness that I don't understand. It makes you tired, weak, and unable to do the things that give you joy. I know you feel isolated from the rest of the world. I wish I could take this burden off of your shoulders and make you smile again. I can only imagine the amount of pain you must be feeling, especially when you admit to it because you were never someone who complained to others about your hardships.

You are, undoubtedly, the hardest worker I have ever met. You never did anything half-way, but attacked every task with determination. We never lived in a mansion on the hill, but what we had was clean and well taken care of. You took pride in a clean house, and it showed. Frequently, when someone compliments me on a job well done, I tell them I owe it all to you. Because of you, I know the value of hard work and the pride I can take in what I accomplish.

When we were small, you did whatever you had to do to make sure we had what we needed, as well as your love and support. I know sometimes you have doubts about your parenting, as I'm sure every parent does, but you were always there when we needed it most. Whether it was to laugh with us, hug us when we were sad, or give us "tough love" to point us in the right direction. You gave us all the tools that we would ever need to grow up and be successful adults as well as shaping us into the people we've become. Not only did we learn right from wrong, but also compassion, strength, confidence, love, and trust.

I was not the easiest teenager to live with, I know that now. You always said, "you'll understand when you grow up,"and I do. Through all the mistakes I made, and some of them were pretty big mistakes, you supported me and helped me through all of it. You always threatened to lock me in a closet till I was thirty, but you let me go my own way and live my own life even though sometimes it was against your better judgement. Despite all the freedom I had to become my own person, people still say I turned out like you. Nothing could make me prouder.

So today, I just wanted to tell you that I appreciate you more then you could ever know. I will carry all you've taught me, and the love you've shown me all the days of my life.

Thank-you for being my mother,

Love Julie

A bowl of soup.

It's 12pm. I am at work, and the whole world has gone INSANE. Not only am I moving tomorrow, so my entire life is disorganized and crazy, but I seem to be having a streak of bad luck professionally as well. Feeling unorganized, I decided to make a To Do list, but after developing writers cramp and misplacing Pg2 of 7, I decided that was an inefficient way to tackle my tasks.

I am typing this while eating my lunch because I need some measure of sanity. Today's lunch is soup. MMM . I am a soup addict. It is the ultimate comfort food. Why am I eating my lunch at my desk you ask? If I took my lunch to the cafeteria, I would undoubtedly be bombarded by questions and "emergencies", which, of course, cannot wait until I eat my cream of broccoli. I have tomorrow off, and I'm trying to prep so my boss can take over.. but that hasn't really seemed to happen yet. I'm still buried in morning craziness.

Hubby has been calling me with questions of "do you know where", "what if we put the couch this way," and "I found a microwave stand in the paper, can you go pick it up?" My concentration is totally frazzled, (not so different from any other day really), and the stress is beginning to make me giggle at inappropriate moments. For example, right now one of the engineers is trying to peek through my blinds to see if I am in my office. He has tried repeatedly to call me on my cell, and my desk phone with no success. I can hear him in the hall asking for me. I KNOW he can hear me laughing. Perhaps he thinks I'm doing something naughty. HA! That made me laugh harder. I'm turning the light switch off now in hopes that he will go away. My soup is not done yet.

Each mouthful is heaven. I am getting full. Better slow down to prolong the procrastination. My phone is ringing again. Someone is paging me over the loud-speaker.

I have just flicked some soup onto my lovely pink sweater with the flimsy plastic spoon. Who invented plastic cutlery anyway? Does it have to be so flexible? Thank-god for Tide Pens. Now there's someone who has a lot of money. Tide Pens are miracle cure-alls for the klutzy and grace-fully challenged such as I. I once spilled an entire coffee on my nice white t-shirt (while driving), and managed to have the whole thing clean by the time I reached Hamilton. It really is amazing stuff.

Sigh. The soup is gone. Said Engineer is now knocking impatiently on my door. So. Back to the real world. So much for the 1hr unpaid lunch. I can do this. I can make this day a success. Somehow.

To Joke, Or Not To Joke.

I make jokes at the most inappropriate times possible. I think it's because as a small child, I learned that laughter is a great tension reliever... especially when your parents are fighting, or your mother is depressed, or your brother is behaving badly to get attention. Unfortunately, this is a behavioural trait that has carried on into my adult life. Believe it or not, there IS a time to laugh and a time to cry... however, the majority of the time I choose to laugh and almost everyone I know disapproves.

Inevitably, as soon as there is tension in the air, my not-so-funny bone kicks in, my mouth opens, and words come out. In normal circumstances, these words would be hilarious... but not so much at my grandmothers funeral, or at work in the middle of a crisis, or on layoff day when I said... "Look on the bright side... now you'll have more time for origami and knitting!" Insensitive right? I mean.. most of those people were worried about how they were going to feed their children, and here I was making jokes.

I wanted to get up and say something at my grandmothers funeral... but I couldn't. I was afraid. I was afraid I would open my mouth and out would come some smart-assed comment which would be delivered with good intentions... but would sound like I was up there doing stand-up instead of talking about my feelings and what a special lady my grandmother really was. The road to hell is paved with good intentions.

Some people like to look on the bright side of life... I like to look on the funny side. I can make a joke out of pretty much anything, and usually they are at my own expense. I try not to hurt others, but sometimes the inappropriateness of my timing is horrifying. Those who know me well will stomp on my foot, or kick my shin to let me know when I am behaving badly.

Once at a wedding with co-workers, I made a comment about one of the ladies lovely hair cuts. She was a co-worker that I hadn't seen in quite sometime. I remember shouting something to the effect of: "Why'd you cut off all of you lovely hair... I mean, you're hair cut is really wonderful, but you had the nicest long wavy hair I'd ever seen!" Doesn't sound bad at all right? As soon as I said it the entire table went silent. It was at that precise moment that I remembered that that particular co-worker had been off for quite sometime do to cancer treatment, chemo, and radiation. She hadn't cut off her lovely hair at all... it had fallen out. I wanted to die. But that wonderful women just looked at me, smiled, and said: "Sometimes your hair falls out from chemo, mine did, so I got a wig! Isn't it pretty?" At this point, I was wishing God would strike me down with a lightning bolt. There she was trying to ease MY humiliation when she could have gotten angry, (and rightly so), and tore a strip off of me. So then, I did what any self-respecting, humiliated person would do. I got very, very drunk and focused all my energy on making her laugh for the rest of the evening. She passed away a few months later, but I often think about her and her quiet, forgiving demeanor. She was probably the most patient soul I have ever met, and one of the sweetest women to walk the face of the earth.

I try to think before I speak... but it doesn't always happen. I still put my foot in my mouth far too often, but not nearly as much as I used to. I think the times when I can use my humor to cheer people up far out-weighs the times when I accidentally hurt others. I was thinking of making a t-shirt that says "CAUTION: I TALK BEFORE I THINK" But I thought that the only person who would find that funny would be me.

Cordova Mines

I grew up in a small hamlet in South-Eastern Ontario, called Cordova Mines. It currently supports a population of approximately 100 people, quietly nestled in the pines. When I was small, it was the ultimate place to grow up. We fished, we hiked, we climbed enormous rock shelves, and played cowboys and Indians among the hay bales. When we first moved there from the city of Hamilton, we lived in a old, lumbering duplex on the edge of town. Behind the house, the old mining property began. Cordova used to have a gold mine you see. We would wander back there and play miner. Many of the old buildings, train tracks, and enormous piles of ore are left like worn souvenirs of the past. We would scoop up pieces of shiny iron pyrite and gloat about how rich we were going to be when we found the gold that the miners left behind. There are still open shafts that were never filled in on the site. Looking back, I'm surprised my mother let us play there as I'm sure she was quite nervous about us slipping to our doom. It was a great place for adventure!

My great-uncle used to own the original Cordova General Store. After he sold it, the owners converted it into a home for them and their 8 children.

I used to play with their kids and I remember much of the old stock was still there for years. Old dress patterns, yarn, and other supplies. A house next door to the original was converted into a general store after the sale, but has since been closed. A brand new log-home store was built a few years ago and now serves the remaining population.

In years gone by it was a booming town with post-office, bakery, butcher, and craftsmen. Now mostly deserted and overgrown it's hard to believe it was ever such a bustling place. Two churches still stand, and the local fire hall, but it is a shell of it's former glory. Forgotten in time like many other mining communities in the same area. The spirit and pride of the town is still going strong though. The residents come together to help one another in times of need, times of sorrow, and times of celebration.

Every time I go back, I am surrounded by friends and family in a town where everybody knows your name. It is a simple life, but a good life.

photo General Store borrowed from http://www.ghosttownpix.com/ontario/towns/cordova.html

Thanks to David for the inspiration! http://david-mcmahon.blogspot.com/2009/05/doorway-to-gold-rush.html