Thursday, July 31, 2014

A Rose, By Any Other Name, Still Needs an Accurate Label.

You know what seemed really funny at two in the morning the night before we moved? Labeling boxes like this.

*sigh*



Tuesday, July 29, 2014

Another One For The List.


Husband is out playing baseball, the kids have been in bed (and actually quiet) for about an hour. I am sitting on the couch, reading a book and ignoring the boxes glaring at me. All is quiet. All is calm.

Sadly, my book isn't all that good, even though I enjoyed the first ones quite a bit. It takes something really special to make a seven book series interesting. I find that they veer off into the absurd around book four. You get the feeling that the author was going somewhere definite, but got sidetracked by watching the nature channel, so now the book about dragons should also be about polar bears, and things get a little confusing...

I jump, startled to hear a rather loud click from upstairs. I'm not entirely used to all the house noises yet, so I'm still surprised every once in a while.

I go back to my book.

I hear a thump, from the vicinity of the click.

I put down my book and tiptoe to the doorway to peer into the darkened hall.

I hear a scuffling noise, and some grunting, coming from the top of the stairs.

I grab my phone and clutch it to my chest, as I rack my brain trying to imagine when someone (thing?) could have gotten into my house. While I was putting things away in the playroom? While I was tucking in and singing lullabies? Could someone have been in here since I left the door open while I brought the garbage cans in this afternoon?

Damnit! How, in all of my considerations about moving, did the increased availability of hiding spots for serial killers not enter my mind?!

I need to be brave; my babies are up there!

I bravely tiptoe to the foot of the stairs, still clutching the phone, and peek around the bannister. Nothing. Dimly lit hallway. 

There it is again. I steel my nerves and start up the stairs.

Suddenly, a misshapen figure lurches into view. It grunts and stumbles into the wall.  I scramble back down the stairs to flip on the lights.

A startled eye blinks guiltily down at me through the tufts of golden hair poking out of an opening in the side of a fuzzy orange blob; a small arm waves limply through the hole in the top.

Not an axe murderer after all. Kee had gotten stuck while trying to get out of the two-years-too-small Halloween costume she'd decided to wear as pajamas, and now needed an intervention so that she could use the toilet.

Just one more thing I never thought I'd need to say to anyone: "No. You may not wear your pumpkin to sleep in."








Monday, July 28, 2014

Danny Does the Weather?!

I like the outdoors as much as the next person, and I'm enjoying exploring the neighbourhood and playing with the girls, but the only way I'm going to get any of these boxes unpacked is to sit them down in front of something engrossing for a bit.

Did I mention that we're not getting cable? We're going to give it a go. We looked into packages, and the amount they charge for the privilege of having your shows interrupted by advertising every few minutes is astounding.

The first day we were here, Kee wandered into our bedroom and asked if she could watch some shows. We explained that we didn't have TV. She argued we did have a TV. We said that we had a screen, but we didn't pay for the cable to hook up to the screen, so we don't have any shows to watch on it. They haven't really mentioned it since.

What we do have are DVD's of their favourite movies, and thanks to finally getting the internet hooked up, Netflix.

When I watch movies, or shows, I tend to get stuck on a track. Like, I'll watch a movie with Ryan Reynolds in it, and then every movie I watch needs to have Ryan Reynolds in it*. Until I come to one with him and Sandra Bullock, and then I'm off on a Sandra Bullock Tangent. Until I come to one with her and Melissa McCarthy in it... You get the picture, right?

Ross Hull, erstwhile scary story teller, current weather guy.
Well, this month, our tangent has been Canadian Content. We were watching the weather one morning before we moved (when we still got the weather channel) and there was Ross Hull.

Not familiar with Ross Hull? Well, if you were a kid in Canada around the time of Student Bodies, then you might  have, like me, fallen off the couch yelling "It's Chris Sheppard!"

Which of course meant that I had to run to Netflix and see if any of his stuff was on there to make my kids sit through it. No Student Bodies, sadly (I loved that show!), but there was a full season of Are You Afraid of the Dark?. When they were done with that, they moved right along to Goosebumps, and when we've worn them out, the Stream Team has helpfully suggested a whole raft of titles to help me out with my Canadiana kick.

“Canadiana” Netflix Titles

Big Kids

  1. Are You Afraid of the Dark?
  2. Johnny Test
  3. Black Hole High
  4. Alpha and Omega
  5. Goosebumps
  6. Erky Perky
  7. Eliot Kid
  8. Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Dog Days
Don't worry, if your kids aren't quite ready for scary stories or the "cheese touch", there's lots there for you as well!

For the little guys:
  1. Caillou
  2. Franny's Feet
  3. The Busy World of Richard Scarry
  4. Super Why!
  5. Animal Mechanicals
  6. Monster Math Squad
  7. Team Umizoomi
  8. Thomas and the Magic Railroad


So how about it? What were some of your favourite (Canadian or otherwise) shows growing up?  The Odyssey and Student Bodies were a couple of my faves.



*Really, most movies could benefit from a bit of Ryan Reynolds, don't you think?


Wednesday, July 23, 2014

Apparently, I Lack Upper Body Strength.

We owned our house for a while before we actually moved in. It's not super far from our old place, but it is far enough that it wasn't really feasible to come up in the evening just to mow the lawn. When we were coming up on weekends, we spent most of the time painting and sorting out things inside the house, so the yards got pretty much ignored.

Which resulted in a waist high jungle of a front lawn.

When we finally got around to taking care of it, we decided to get a push mower. You know, because it's quieter, more environmentally friendly, cheaper... all good things.

Of course, mowing waist high grass is hard.

The first time we got out there with our push mower, we had offers from three different neighbours for real lawn mowers. Three. They nodded their heads, and knowingly asked if we were first time home owners.

We said thank you, and borrowed a mower to take care of the grass, because it was pretty obvious that our mower was, literally, not going to cut it.

The next time we tried again with our push mower. We found out a few things. Using a push mower is hard. Mowing on a hill is hard. Mowing weeds is hard. Mowing weird tufty grass with the tensile strength of airplane cable is super freaking hard.

Which is why the back yard has a rough square mown for the kids to play in, surrounded by tall grass and weeds, and the front looks like this: 


So, if you live near me, I apologise for my unruly lawn. We'll get the hang of it, promise.

Eventually.








Saturday, July 19, 2014

Well, Here We Are.


So. We've moved.

We've been here about two weeks now, and each weekend, we've gone back to the old place. Why? Oh, no reason, just because we didn't actually manage to finish packing before we left. We ran out of boxes. I know. Really, I know.

*sigh*

We just have too much stuff. To be fair, we were there for almost ten years and we accumulated two people, and all the stuff that comes with them, while we were there. We also never got rid of anything, because you never know when it's going to be useful. You know how it goes. We've decided to sell everything that's worth selling*, and give away or get rid of the rest.

Or I've decided, anyway. If anyone notices, I'll fill them in.

Aside from the giant piles of stuff surrounding us, I love our house. I'm already used to the creaks in the upstairs hallway, and the way the pipes bang when you flush the upstairs toilet. I'm starting to be able to tell where someone is in the house just from the sound of their voice. For some reason, I sleep really well here.

The girls love having their own rooms; Beege likes having a place to retreat alone, and Kee likes having a place that she can order people out of.

I haven't really gotten to use my new room yet. I'm trying to sort out the rest of the house first, so that I can shut myself in there and not be thinking about all the other stuff I should be doing. Because really, I should be emptying all these boxes. Even now, they're taunting me out of the corner of my eye.

I just wanted to take a quick break and check in, so you knew I hadn't been crushed by my massive piles of junk. I'd post pictures, but it's really just embarrassing.

Damnit. I really should be emptying boxes.







*Anybody know any Star Wars collectors?

Wednesday, July 2, 2014

Where Did This All Come From?!

Right. I know. I should be packing. I have been! Just taking a short break from all the heavy lifting to marvel at the wall of boxes taking up my living room. It's really amazing how much stuff we have. Just incredible.

One thing I've been really surprised about is how many DVDs we actually have. Some of these movies are still in their packages. I know, I'm embarrassed.

In my defense, I'm pretty sure that none of the Japanese robot/ninja/action movies still in their plastic are my fault.

I'll take the hit on Flashdance though. Honestly, I only bought it because it was on sale, I'd never seen it, and people got on my case about it. I'm still not interested, and I shouldn't have caved to peer pressure. Next time, I will stand up tall and say "No. I do NOT need to watch that movie about the welder/stripper."

Anyhoo. As I was saying...

We neeeed to get rid of things. The first place I'm going to start (because I can't bear facing the books yet - holy crap), is the DVDs. Because, really? Aside from the kids' movies, and a few hard to find classics*, and those collectors sets that Husband likes... damn.

Let me try this again. Anything that we bought because we were interested in passing and it was cheaper to buy it than actually go to out the movies? Those can go.

Now I have something better than the bargain bin at Blockbuster (is Blockbuster still a thing?) - Netflix.

Last night for instance, I watched Austenland and The Decoy Bride (While packing, don't worry), neither of which I'd heard of. 

Austenland has Jane (Felicity) and Lizzie (Stiffler's Mom) in the story of a girl obsessed with Jane Austen's world who decides to spend her savings to go and experience it "first hand" at a themed resort. I'm an Austen and period piece fan myself, so I found it quite charming.

The Decoy Bride takes place on the fictional Isle of Hegg, where unlucky in love Katie (the voice of Merida) retreats after a disasterous love affair, only to find herself drawn into the machinations of a publicity rep (Mark, from Ugly Betty) to help keep paparazzi away from a well known actress (Carol from Star Trek into Darkness) and her would be author husband (The tenth Doctor).

Both of which I'm glad I watched, but equally glad I don't have to find the room for. 

Okay. Back to packing.







*Like Elvira: Mistress of the Dark. I love it, and you can judge me all you want.


Friday, June 27, 2014

Today, It's On My Left Calf.

It's that time of year again. When you're dripping in sweat as soon as you step out the door, and by the time you've walked down the block, you just want to lie down until the sun goes away.

Or is that just me?

Today, that's not what I'm here to complain about. Let's talk about another reason why summer is so awful.

Stifling summer heat means shorts, and skirts, and tank tops, and various other clothing items that make us feel like we ought to be hairless. Time to start cursing whoever it was that decided that hairless legs were a trait that ought to (quite unnaturally, really) be exhibited by the entire female human population.

I applaud all of you who manage not to buy into it. I'm working on it. Really, nobody should care if I'm hairy but me. Conversely, I really shouldn't care whether anyone cares. I'm sure that part of the reason I can't just ignore this particular societal construct is the deeply ingrained taunting of a boy in grade four laughing at my downy legs, and nicknaming me "monkey girl". But my childhood psychological scars are beside the point.

Considering that I have bought into it, what's the big deal, right?

Well, let's put aside the fact that razors and things are expensive. Let's ignore the fact that bathing takes double the time in the warmer months. Let's overlook the extra cleanup that needs to take place in the bathtub solely because of the pursuit of "silky" legs. Let's even discuss the fact that big companies get rich off of our insecurities by propagating unnatural, and often unattainable, standards of beauty some other time.

Why exactly do I hate shaving my legs so very much? 

I always, without fail, miss a spot.