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Saturday, April 29, 2006WAHM Bloggers Question Of The WeekThings that make you go "Hmmmm...". My friends over at WAHM Bloggers have asked: Do you have support from your family for your business? I can honestly say that Trouble doesn't have a clue. He's going to be one confused kindergarten kid when the time comes. "Why is your mom dressed like that? What do you mean? Your mom actually leaves the house to go to work?!" This is the norm for him. I'm hoping it will instill in him the ability to think outside the box, challenge conformity, blaze his own path through life. My realistic side is telling me that it will, more likely, condition him to expect everyone to forever be around to do his bidding, to wait on him hand and foot. Since I'm pretty sure he's going to grow up to be a rock star, maybe that won't be such a bad thing in his world. Mini-Me, our six year old, has vague memories of Mommy dropping him off at daycare so she could "go to work." Now, at the time, "work" was in the spare bedroom, with a trip to the Big City once a week. It was still a routine for him, though, so he's a little more normalized than Trouble (well, as normal as anything gets in this house, at any rate). He's also older, so he understands the command, "I'm on the phone, so you need to be quiet now." But if anyone were to ask him what his mom does for a living, I seriously doubt he'd be able to tell them any more than, "She spends a lot of time in the basement." (Hello, Social Services? I'm calling about my neighbour. Her son told me that she keeps locking them all in the basement and then plays with large cutting machinery and sharp, chopping blades...) Hubby is a whole other kettle of fish. On the one hand, he loves the business and everything about it. He's a machinist by trade, so this is right up his alley. He loves the fact that his wife is a gadget queen. He loves that his wife knows how to read a vernier, knows how to set the X, Y and Z axis on a machine and knows the difference between 'five thou' and 'fifty thou'. He's my most successful salesman, my tech support, my repair and maintenance technician, my creative sounding board, my biggest fan ... and my harshest critic. Lord save me when we're having financial difficulties or - worse yet - when we file our income tax returns at the end of the year. Suddenly we're talking about all the part-time jobs that will be available to me when Trouble is in school. I mean, an employee discount at Home Depot wouldn't be a bad thing, right? Thankfully, those bouts of get-a-job-ness are temporary, and he's quickly brought back on track when the next contract comes in or - even better - when a new piece of equipment is on the horizon. Overall, though, I'd have to say that everyone is very supportive of the idea of me working from home. Hubby is even enjoying the new blog thing, since it gives him a whole new insight into what the kids and I are up to all day. It's a very different experience to read it in a 'story' format, as opposed to having it screeched at you while you're standing three feet away. I'm not so sure the kids will like it, though, once they get old enough to understand what I've been writing about for all those years. I wonder if I can earn enough money from Google AdSense to pay for their therapy... Technorati Tags: Question Of The Week ; WAHM ; Home-Based Business Subscribe to my feed!  
Thursday, April 27, 2006Do You Know The Muffin Man?I do! And his name is Trouble. Earlier this evening, I thought I'd treat my boys by making a batch of muffins. OK, don't get excited. It's the Quaker stuff in the bag. But they love it, so we don't need to tell them that I'm cheating. Anyhow, I set the muffin pan on top of the stove to cool and head into my cavern - I mean basement - to work on a plate I need to engrave for a customer. The boys were in the adjoining room, watching TV. At least, that's where the older one was. Trouble had other schemes brewing in his mischievous little skull. He had stolen away upstairs, dragged a chair over to the stove, climbed up and proceeded to pull the tops off of all the muffins. Then he ate the evidence. Well, most of it, at any rate. By the time my overworked Mom radar sounded, it was too late. Mental note to self: must call the shop to have that radar looked at - Trouble may be tampering with it while I sleep. I hurried back to the kitchen to find Trouble standing across the room with a muffin top in each hand. As soon as he spotted the me coming up the steps, he backed himself against a wall, both hands (still clutching the muffin tops) behind his back, eyes wide, shouting, "No! No! No! No! No! No!...." So, what do you do at this point? It's time for dinner. Trouble, surprisingly, isn't hungry. "If you don't eat your dinner, you're not getting any ... oh, wait ... never mind." Technorati Tage: Parenting ; Children ; Muffins Subscribe to my feed!
I'm a huge Robin Williams fan. The man is a comedic genius and master ad-libber. His acting range is as broad as Bill Gates's credit rating. His stand-up always has me falling down. He's been on a few talk shows lately to promote his new movie, RV. I've seen the trailers on TV, and I'm not entirely sure this is going to be one of his finest moments. None-the-less, I went to check out the movie's website to see if there might be something I'm missing in the commercials. On the website's main page, there is a picture of the title's rv perched precariously and teetering at the top of a very pointy rock. My youngest (you know him as Trouble, the two and a half year old) took one look at the picture and said, "Whoa-ho-ho! A flying bus! Dat's not good!" Hmmm....Foreshadowing, maybe? At any rate, I'll be waiting for this movie to come out on DVD before logging my official review. I have a feeling it's not as bad as the trailers make it appear. I just don't think it'll be worth the cost of admission. Besides, something tells me it'll be a lot funnier with Trouble sitting beside me, offering his commentary as we go along. ;) Technorati Tags: Robin Williams ; RV ; Movie ; Comedy Subscribe to my feed!
Wednesday, April 26, 2006Wednesday's Want-ItI generally try to keep my posts light and funny, but I'm going to get a little heavy on you today. I think it's for a good reason. Our government officials are preparing to make a very nasty deal with the devil. I watched the news this morning with mounting dismay. Premier Dalton McGuinty has apparently decided that nuclear power is the most viable solution for Ontario's energy crisis. Really? I wonder how viable it would seem to the people of Chernobyl? My Want-It for this week is to have Mr. McGuinty read the Harry Potter series of books. Actually, make that Mr. McGuinty and every member of his cabinet. Let's make it required reading for every politician ever to come into power in this wonderful country of ours. If you've never read the Harry Potter books, I suggest you do so right now. I mean it. Go to Chapters or Costco or Amazon.ca, get yourself the whole series and start reading it right now so you can come back and finish reading this blog entry. At the end of book 4, Dumbledore tells Harry that people will soon have to make a very important decision. They'll have to choose between what is right and what is easy. We're now facing the same crisis. No, we don't have a murderous wizard to contend with. We're dealing with something far worse - politicians on a power trip who have apparently forgotten that they are elected servants of the people. Mr. McGuinty is apparently opting for what is easy. He wants to take his chances with nuclear energy now and let our future generations pay for our mistakes later (or sooner - there's no way of knowing when disaster will strike, is there?). He agrees that nuclear waste is a problem, but he's confident that we're capable of containing it for the several thousands of years required to make it "safe." He believes that we are technologically advanced enough to avoid a Chernobyl-type disaster. He feels that alternative energy sources - hydro-electric, wind, solar, etc... - aren't reliable enough to power our province. Here are my problems with his reasoning. About the waste: How does he know 100% for certain that it will be safe in several thousands of years? Have we lived through several thousands of years' worth of testing? How much waste are we talking about? I'm pretty sure that several thousand years' worth of waste will take up a considerable amount of space. Where are we to store it in the mean time, if we can't even find place for our current household garbage? How does he know that someone, somwehere down the road won't make some horrible mistake? I'm pretty sure the good citizens of Walkerton were "confident" in their water management people at the time. About the accidents: As with any accident, they cannot be foreseen. That's why they're called "accidents." The person who was blind-sided by a drunk driver probably didn't believe it would ever happen to them. What would be the worst-case scenario if a wind station failed? A black-out? So we'd have to divert power from another source or beg it from another province for a while. Big whoop. Worst case scenario if a nuclear plant has an accident? Death. Destruction. Birth defects. Pain. Suffering. The list is endless. Which would you rather take your chances with? About the alternative energy sources: OK, if you have one windmill, it probably won't be terribly reliable nor will it power much. But there are whole nations in Europe being powered (at least partially) by wind farms. There are cities in our own western provinces that are being powered by wind farms. Has anyone noticed how windy it gets around here? We're surrounded by massive lakes that create their own weather systems, for Pete's sake. Is Mr. McGuinty trying to tell me that a wind farm can't be used in conjunction with some other methods to create a reliable source of power? Back to the lakes. Is there no way to harness their power? Sink a giant water-powered generator somwehere? We must have rivers feeding these gigantic lakes, no? How about building a dam or two? What about solar power? We have miles and miles of highway in Ontario. Can we not mount solar panels along side the highways, or in farm fields? How about if people start taking responsibility for their power usage? I mean actual responsibility, not just financial. Have all new homes (not just the fancy, experimental ones) built with solar panels on the roofs. Give subsidies to people who want to power their own homes. A combination of one small wind generator and a few solar panels with a bank of batteries in the basement would produce more than enough energy to power the average household. Maybe people would think about their consumption a little more if they had to rely on their own resources and didn't have a constant feed coming in to bail them out. All of these options are feasible, and I'm pretty sure Mr. David Suzuki has a bazillion more brilliant ideas that I haven't listed here (maybe I'll vote for Mr. Suzuki in the next election). The problem with all of these alternatives to nuclear power, in Mr. McGuinty's eyes, is that they cost more money and take more time to implement. Quick and dirty - that's how politicians prefer to work. In the battle of right vs. easy, easy will win every time when politicians are involved. Who cares who has to pay for it in the end, and at what cost, as long as it's not them, right? Techorati Tags: Nuclear ; Power ; Ontario ; McGuinty ; Wind ; Solar ; Hydro-Electric ; Clean Energy Subscribe to my feed!
Tuesday, April 25, 2006Alphabet Soup Blog Carnival Topic: Theme ParksThere are some perks to getting older. For one, you develop a certain amount of common sense. There are definitely things I can no longer do that I used to enjoy in my youth. To be honest, some of those activities I don't miss one bit. As a matter of fact, I look back on these episodes in my life and frequently think I was quite the idiot. Take theme parks, for example. These days, I can't even watch video footage of someone on one of these rides without tossing my proverbial cookies. Never mind the rides; most fast-moving video games will bring my lunch up for an encore performance. Now, in my younger days - the days of pizza-for-lunch-every-day-and-never-gain-an-ounce - I could ride anything in any direction and come off the ride grinning at the best of times, and weaving slightly at the worst. I remember one ride in particular at La Ronde in Montreal. It was called the Super Loop. A roller-coaster of mythical proportions, at least by the standards of that era. Not only would you be tossed upside down twice (hence the name 'Super Loop'), but you'd also be hurtled along a track that looked like it was just about ready to toss you into the frigid river below. On one particularly idiotic day, my friends and I decided to go to La Ronde during a major thunderstorm. Of course, common sense prevailed and the park's management closed down all rides. So we sulked in the food courts until the rain slowed. As soon as it was deemed reasonably safe, we were allowed back onto the rides. Obviously, everyone else in the park was more than happy to let us go first. We would dry the seats quite nicely for them. But we didn't care. We were invincible teenagers, after all. The water tumbling off the overhead structures would only add texture to the experience. After spending a lovely day being dragged at high speeds through a slight drizzle and occasionally having buckets of water dumped onto our unsuspecting heads from the overturned seats above our own, we boarded the Metro (Montreal's subway system) looking decidedly like a group of oversized, giggling, half-drowned rats. Yeah, the other riders were happy to see us get on. Dripping and sniffling, we made our way home where all and sundry had to be tossed into the dryer while we tried to regain the feeling in our toes. Ah, the good ol' days. Yup, we were nimrods. Thanks, Ashley at The Kid Within, for hosting this blog carnival topic. ;) Technorati Tags: Theme Parks ; Thrill Rides ; Vacation ; Amusement Parks ; Roller Coasters Subscribe to my feed!
Andy Warhol once said "In the future everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes." In today's society of cutbacks and downsizing, those fifteen minutes have apparently been hacked down to fifteen seconds.  But I'm not complaining! For today, I experienced my fifteen seconds of fame! That's right, my friends, I've hit the big time. My little blog was mentioned on Breakfast Television, Toronto's number one morning talk show! As an added bonus, my link has been added to their website (just scroll down a little).If only Liza and Kevin could know how happy they've made this humble stay-at-home mom. I watched this segment from the comfort of my bed this morning, having only recently woken up. They talked about the blogger from Nunavut, and then Naked KnitGirl (I can only imagine what kind of Google searches she must turn up in). I had just about given up hope of any mention, since both previous blogs were very photo-rich and mine - well - isn't. And then it happened. Liza started reading my e-mail. It took a second for the reality to register, and then I let out a Whoop! of triumph that startled hubby, both kids and the dog out of very deep slumbers. About two seconds after the segment ended, my phone rang. It was my sister, who is also my primary PR associate and biggest fan. She had caught the show and was thrilled for me. She has since been busy e-mailing anyone who would care (and a few people who wouldn't) to let them know about my latest grand event. So, I've been unable to scrape this huge grin off my face all day. I've e-mailed everyone I know with links to my site and BT's as well. I've gone into all the chat rooms and forums to which I have a membership (and some that I don't) just to trumpet my elation at having been considered interesting enough to mention on television. I'll probably be boring people with this story for years to come. But, hey, these are most likely the only fifteen seconds I'll get, so I have to make them last as long as I can, right? ;) Of course, the masochist in me wonders how many submissions they actually received. Reminds me of that old joke: "I placed third in the race!" "How many people were running in the race?" "Three." Thank you, Liza, Kevin and everyone else at BT for making my day! Hope you enjoy my little corner of the world. Liza, there are a few entries here that you might find ... um ... interesting, given your current condition.  Subscribe to my feed!
Monday, April 24, 2006The Comfort ZoneI admit it. I am a mindless drone. Doing exactly what advertisers tell me to do. I'm so desperate to potty train my youngest that I'm dishing out fistsfull of cash for products that I know in my heart won't work. Disposable training pants. You know the ones. You can get them with cute little cartoon characters on them that disappear when your wee one piddles, or, the latest concoction, the liner that actually allows your child to 'feel' wet. Here's the problem with these training pants. My child apparently likes his - um - warm and squishies. He is either ignoring the mess completely, or he's decided it's comfortable. His own portable comfort zone, so to speak. Maybe it affords him extra padding during play time. I don't know. Whatever his reasoning, he refuses to tell me when he 'goes' and puts up quite the fight when I mention trying the toilet. I've tried bribery. You know, the usual - stickers, treats, toys, etc... Heck, I was willing to buy him a $50 custom painted dinosaur toilet seat today if it would have coaxed him onto the can. Nothing doing. That's why these training pants won't work. My son is too comfortable in them. Disappearing designs mean nothing to him. He's a boy. They're only designs, after all. He can pick up a set of markers and make his own designs, if he really wants to. Those feel-wet liners aren't the greatest either. I tried them once. Either my son has a bladder the size of a 25 year old frat boy's after a kegger, or the manufacturer miscalculated the tensile strength of the liner. After one all-nighter, I was cleaning up a bazillion little crystals from my son's nether regions because the liner had disintegrated from over-use. So why do I keep spending money on these things? Well, I have to put something on him if I don't want to spend my days chasing him around with a black light and a mop. And, while I'm not generally the kind of person who cares about what other people think, it's a little embarrassing having him in regular diapers at his size & age. Besides, I don't think those little tabs would hold up to his brand of horseplay. Come summertime, though, we can move on to Plan B. We're going to spend every waking moment outdoors, where he can run around in a little bathing suit and nothing else. If he piddles down his leg a couple of times, maybe he'll finally get the message and start taking me up on my toilet training offers. Or, maybe he'll just like his newfound 'freedom' and decide on his own that those comfy training pants aren't that comfortable after all. With my luck, though, he'll probably enjoy peeing outdoors, at which point he'll start competing with the neighbour's dog for height on the fence posts. Technorati Tags: Toilet Learning ; Potty Training ; Training Pants ; Toddlers ; Parenting ; Motherhood Subscribe to my feed!
Sunday, April 23, 2006Red RevivalHappy days are here again! Schumacher brought home his first checkered flag of the season for Ferrari at the San Marino Grand Prix. Not that Michael's a stranger to checkered flags, mind you. Today's was his career 85th! Could this mean that Ferrari is finally past last year's abysmal performance? I certainly hope so! I really missed hearing that Italian national anthem during the podium ceremony. If you've never heard it, you should have a listen. It's quite an upbeat little tune. Ferrari is now in third place for the Constructor's Championship, at 30 points, behind McLaren-Mercedes with 33 and Renault with 51. Schumacher is in second place in the Driver's standings, with 21 points. He trails Alonso, who's currently sitting at 36 points. The season isn't even half over yet, so it's really still anybody's game. Well, almost anybody, that is. I'm pretty sure Red Bull aren't holding their collective breath. Rumour has it that Michael is going to announce, some time in June, whether or not he's going to retire at the end of this season. If he decides to retire, I sincerely hope it ends on a high note for him, bringing home the Driver's as well as the Constructor's Championships one last time. Technorati Tags: Formula 1 ; Racinf ; Michael Schumacher ; Ferrari Subscribe to my feed!
Wednesday, April 19, 2006WAHM Bloggers Question of the WeekThe good ladies over at Work At Home Mom Bloggers have put forth this question of the week: What do you sacrifice to stay home with your children? First and foremost, there's my ability to converse as an adult. I'm quite serious. We are products of our environments, after all. While in the corporate world, I could easily carry on conversations about software upgrades or group benefits, and generally come across sounding as if I knew what I was talking about. These days, my eyes glaze over at the mere mention of megabytes, and I find myself more often debating topics like Steve vs. Joe (Steve wins, hands down, every time) or researching websites where I can download free Sonic colouring pages. I own one pair of jeans and one pair of dress pants, and I've worn both to parties as well as while doing home renovations. I won't buy a new pair of either until I've worn giant holes on the inner thighs that are no longer sewable. I own one pair of running shoes and one pair of "dress" shoes (read: a pair of black loafers, because I can't be bothered with heels and nylons anymore), both of which have had the soles repeatedly glued back on. I have secret competitions with myself to see how quickly I can get out of the shower. I do not own a louffa (I don't even know how that's actually spelled). Conditioner is saved for special occasions. My legs haven't been shaved in six months. Here's something the cosmetic companies will never, ever tell you, ladies. Your leg hair only gets so long. Unlike the hair on your head, it doesn't keep growing and growing. It stops when it has reached its maximum length. If you're lucky, your leg hair's maximum length won't rival Lassie's. My motorcycle has been (albeit temporarily) stabled. I am now driving a Honda CR-V with a car seat, a booster seat, an overhead DVD player and a floor that is encrusted with dried-up milk, cookie crumbs and an odd assortment of McDonald's Happy Meal toys. I tried the mini-van thing once. Sorry ... no. Admittedly, I've gained quite a few skills and immeasurable knowledge in the bargain. I've learned that the human brain can function on surprisingly little sleep for weeks at a time. I can cook and do homework and rock out to a two-year-old's drum solo at the same time. My latest acquired talent is to type with a sock on my hand (Steve is showing us how to play with sock puppets today). There are so many more that I can't think of right now because, although the brain can technically function without much sleep, it doesn't recall information that readily. In the grand scheme of things, I think I've come out on top! ;) Technorati Tags: Question of the Week ; WAHM ; SAHM ; Parenting Subscribe to my feed!
"Please leave a message at the sound of the tone." Beeeep! Click! Argh! Why is it, when people hear that phrase, they feel compelled to ignore it? Is the phrase actually a string of insulting curses in some obscure neanderthal language that subconsciouly triggers a knee-jerk reaction to hang up the phone as quickly as possible? Is it caused by years of conditioning brought on by TV game shows to slam your hand down as soon as you hear the beep? If I've made the request, it's because I actually want you to leave a message. I don't normally lie. If my message says, "I'm unavailable at the moment," it really means I'm not available. Either I can't hear the phone, or I'm changing a diaper, or I've stepped out and forgot my cell phone again - there are any number of honest reasons why I can't take your call at the moment. I'm not ignoring your call. Even if I wanted to, I can't possibly know it's you on the other end of the line because I don't have call-display. "Unavailable at the moment" does not mean "try again in thirty seconds." You'll notice that the phrase "unavailable at the moment" is shortly followed by "Please leave a message..." and not "Keep calling until my cell phone battery is dead." So, for the love of God, when you hear the tone, please leave a message! Beeeep! Technorati Tags: Answering Machine ; Answering Service ; Cell Phone ; Call Display ; Message Subscribe to my feed!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006The Ever-Changing MeThey tried to warn me. They told me that 'everything' would change after I had children. Well, d'uh! Of course it would! Midnight feedings, diapers up the yin-yang, no more jumping on the bike early one Sunday morning and going for a twelve hour ride down some back country highway, not caring if I get lost... That's not what they meant. They meant 'everything.' Every little aspect of my life that I took for granted. Every minute detail that I never even realized existed but would impact my daily life in ways I could never have dreamed. Take Kentucky Fried Chicken, for example. I used to love the stuff. For all I know, I probably still do. Unfortunately, where I previously had a cast-iron stomach, motherhood has apparently replaced it with a wet sack of oatmeal. KFC is now cause for a desperate call to 9-1-1, which someone else will have to make since I'll be doubled over, suffering from abdominal pains that would make Sigourney Weaver jealous. We won't discuss my breasts. They used to be very close, but they've apparently parted ways. I was never sick. Never. Not even a cold. I also had no allergies to speak of. I could run naked through a field of dandelions while frolicking with a Persian cat, and I wouldn't get so much as a sniffle. Now I catch anything my son brings home from school, whether or not he's showing any symptoms. Allergies? Either I've developed allergies to the lovely set of tulips sitting outside my front door, or I am suffering from the longest and most location-specific cold in medical history. A piece of useless trivia: it's impossible to sneeze without closing your eyes. A piece of useful advice: after motherhood, it's not wise to sneeze without crossing your legs. I wear a pad every day of the month just in case I sneeze while I'm out shopping. Hospitals should definitely introduce Kagel exercises as part of the postpartum program, not only in prenatal classes. Do I regret any of it? Nope. Not in a million years. Saggy, mismatched breasts and all - these are badges of honour and I wear them proudly. For I am a Mother. No higher honour can be bestowed upon me. :D Technorati tags: Motherhood ; Pregnancy Subscribe to my feed!
Thursday, April 13, 2006Paid Surveys? Paying Whom?Almost every stay-at-home mom dreams of being able to earn some money from home at some point in her sahm career. Whether it's to supplement her spouse's income, to support her entire family or simply to bring in an extra couple of bucks a week to pay for her hairdresser appointments, most sahms would like to be able to earn something without having to give up being a sahm. Enter the paid survey sites. Imagine being able to get paid a few dollars here and there just for surfing the net and answering a few simple questions. OK, so you won't crack the six figure mark with this plan, but every little bit helps, right? Wrong. I've joined almost every paid survey site available to Canadians. The free ones, at any rate. I see no reason to pay someone to give me a list of sites that may or may not give me two dollars per survey. So, here I am, checking my e-mail faithfully several times a day, just like I told these survey companies I would. I do get offers. Boy, oh, boy, do I get offers! Ninety nine percent of the time, they are offers to complete a survey in order to earn an entry into one of the company's weekly draws for five prizes worth a thousand dollars. Sorry, no. If I'm going to spend half an hour at my computer answering your questions, I want more than "a chance" at a thousand dollar prize that probably doesn't exist in the first place. The other one percent of offers is for honest-to-goodness paying surveys. Complete the survey, they say, and we'll send you five dollars through PayPal. Cool! I start answering their preliminary questions. Am I male or female? Gee, I thought that was already indicated in my profile. Which best describes my position within the company? That's easy, it's my own home-based business, which is also indicated in the profile I filled out for you, so the answer would be - owner. Are you responsible for making the final decisions about (whatever it is they're trying to peddle)? Oh, yeah, sure! Well, my husband puts in his two cents every now and then, but essentially, it's all me, baby! How many people work for my company? Including me? One, but that answer isn't available in the list of responses the survey gives, so I'll have to choose "less than 100." The buzzer sounds (well, at least it sounds inside my head). Sorry, wrong answer! This is about the time I get the little rejection screen, telling me that I "don't fit the profile." Don't fit the profile? What kind of profile are they looking for? And why didn't they know that before sending me the link to the survey, since all this info is already in my "profile"? They clearly want professionals, since they're asking about positions, decision-making and number of employees. Are they looking for the CEO of a Fortune 500 company? Do they expect the executive director of IBM to be sitting at her computer for half an hour, answering their inane questions for an extra five bucks? Yeah, I can see it now. There's Mrs. Gates, tapping away at her keyboard, "Sorry honey! I can't come to the Greenpeace fundraiser tonight. I have to get caught up on my surveys." To make a short story long, I'll have to say that these so-called "paid" surveys are anything but. Definitely not worth the time and effort involved. You're much better off getting yourself a blog and setting up some AdSense and affiliate links. At least then, even if you don't make any money at it, you have a great place to vent about your lack of funds. ;) Technorati tags: Paid Surveys ; WAHMs Subscribe to my feed!
Wednesday, April 12, 2006Wednesday's Want-ItWell, ladies & gentlemen, it would appear that spring has finally sprung here in central Ontario. If you're a dog owner, you know why these are not especially happy words for me. If you're not a dog owner, let me enlighten you. Spring is when the snow goes away and reveals an entire winter's worth of ... well ... partially melted and decomposed doggy doo. Yummy. Before I had children, it wasn't an issue. Let the melting snow and spring rains wash away the evidence of my winter negligence. Hubby will run it all over with his lawn tractor and that will be the end of that. It's organic, right? I never did understand the point of taking a perfectly natural, biodegradable, if somewhat unpleasant material and sticking it in a plastic bag so it could spend millennia in our landfills. As with every other aspect of life, this too has changed now that I've brought a pair of wee ones into the world. You see, I can no longer just let sleeping poop lie. If I do, it will most definitely find its way onto the bottom of those wee sneakers and into my house. That's guaranteed. It's Murphy's First Law of Poop. That all poop shall find its way onto the sole of a shoe that is headed directly indoors via the shortest route, thereby ensuring minimal scrapeage. Therefore, my "Want-It" for this week is to hire a professional pooper scooper to come in and clean out my yard. Why is that so blogworthy, you ask? Because, my friends, of the almighty dollar. Those shovels-for-hire are not cheap. I believe they charge by the square foot, and, since we live on a half-acre lot, we'd be paying through the nose. Given that we're currently trying to exist on one salary while propping up my fledgling engraving business, paying someone to eliminate the waste in my yard is not even remotely feasible. So, I'll be donning the clothespeg on the nose and the rubber gloves, arming myself with shovel and bucket, and doing the doo-ty myself (sorry, I couldn't resist). Oh! Would you look at that? It's raining. What a shame! Looks like my little game of pick-up-poo will have to wait until some other time. Technorati tags: Pooper Scooper ; Pets Subscribe to my feed!
Tuesday, April 11, 2006Mommy's Day!What?! A collective groan resonates across the continent as fathers everywhere check their callendars. It's a little over a month 'till Mother's Day. Personally, I love Mother's Day. Of course I do - I'm a mother. It really is the little things that make it all worthwhile. The hand-made card with "I love you, Mommy" scrawled across it by a six year old hand is truly a gift that warms the heart. An extra-tight squeeze from the two year old makes my special day all the more special. Decorating a toilet paper roll with macaroni and glitter and calling it a pen holder is a wonderful present for Mom when it's made by her pride and joy. Unfortunately, fellas, it just isn't a fitting gift from the man she married. Don't worry, though. I'm here to help you. My first piece of advice is to start shopping early. Nothing says "Oops! I forgot again," like a gift that was bought at the local convenience store five minutes before closing. You've been forewarned. Now get out there and forearm yourselves.  Gift idea number one: Get a really, really cute picture of the kids. Put it in a personalized picture frame. Have the phrase "We Love You, Mommy! Love Fred & George," engraved on it. Tie a ribbon around the frame and stick a single rose in the ribbon.Gift idea number two: Buy her a really nice neckalce or pendant.  Don't just wrap it in the original box, though. That's not personal enough, and it's also a dead giveaway. You want to go for the element of surprise. Put it in a personalized trinket box. Have her name engraved on the trinket box, or maybe a loving sentiment like "You Mean The World To Me." Gift idea number three: Is your wife into animals and nature? Does she like carved figures? Then why not get her a crystal animal figurine? These come with an engravable plate on the front, where you can declare, "To The Most Wonderful Wife & Mother A Man Could Wish For."The point is that your options are limitless, as long as you get out there now instead of waiting until the last minute. You'll have a bigger selection, the sales staff won't be too harrassed to help you find the perfect gift, and you won't have to wrestle another Dad to the ground for that last bouquet of droopy flowers at the corner stand. Now, go get 'em, tiger! Technorati tags: Mother's Day ; Gifts Subscribe to my feed!
Monday, April 10, 2006Reality TV Vs. Real TVFor the first time in a long time, I can honestly say that I like Mondays. Look forward to 'em, even. I'm not a huge TV watcher. The boob tube in our house is usually set to Blues Clues or Spongebob Squarepants. The closest I come to intellectual television is Sesame Street. And I've been fine with that. There was never really anything on that I could say I had to watch. Reality TV, in my humble opinion, bites. There's nothing real about it. And all those cop shows - well - they're a little too real, if you know what I mean. Enter the Discovery Channel. True reality TV at it's finest. People just like me, having the same problems I'm having, facing the same challenges I do. Except they're failing at far more spectacular levels than I could ever dream of. My latest favourite is a happy little show called Canada's Worst Handyman. It airs on Monday night at 10:00PM. At first, I had my doubts about this one. I was fully expecting it to be nothing more than video clips of home renovation mishaps, like America's Funniest Home Videos in a really tight niche. Oh, no, my friends. This is knee-slapping, side-splitting ineptitude. There are five nominees who are forced to perform standard home reno tasks with the help of their nominators. At the beginning of each episode, they are shown by a professional how to complete the required tasks. Of course, none of them ever thinks to take notes. This shouldn't surprise us, though, since note-taking would demonstrate some modicum of common sense, which seems to go on immediate hiatus as soon as anyone in the group is handed a power tool. The good people at Discovery Channel had me hooked at episode one. This is where we're introduced to each of the nominees and their unique brands of incompetence. Task number one was to patch a six inch by six inch hole in the ceiling. Remember, they were all shown how to complete this task beforehand. It involved a block of wood, a few screws, a piece of drywall, some drywall tape and putty. Note that I did not say "duct tape" anywhere in that list of supplies. Put the block of wood inside your hole, screw through the existing drywall (on either side of your hole) to hold it in place. Then screw your piece of drywall into your block of wood. Tape and putty the seam around your drywall patch, and voilĂ ! You're done. None, and I do mean none, of the nominees used the block of wood. One of them apparently has a duct tape fetish. He uses it for everything from plumbing to dressing wounds. When his piece of drywall refused to defy gravity and stay in place without screws or bracing, he went in search of duct tape to hold his drywall patch in place. He found some, in another room, being used to cover a hole that the show's lighting men had made (kind of ironic, no?). His drywall patch is now being held in place by a couple of pieces of used duct tape. He then proceededd to plaster over the duct tape. No, it didn't hold (just in case some of you out there are thinking of trying it). Another nominee used his block of wood as a brace, but it was on top of a ladder and a small stack of boxes, actually propping up his sagging drywall-and-putty mess. Yet another nominee couldn't figure out why his screws weren't going in, so he abandoned his piece of wood as well. Turns out the drill he was using was in reverse. He was lucky, though, in that he was able to wedge his piece of drywall into place so he could actually putty it without it falling on his wife/nominator's head. This is funny, funny stuff, people! Better yet, it's funny stuff we can all relate to. Way better than watching a bunch of beautiful people eating cockroaches on a tropical island in hopes of a million bucks and an endorsement deal or two. This is real TV. Subscribe to my feed!
Friday, April 07, 2006Maybe We Should Name It "Shirley"?Don't mind me. I'm just sitting here, chuckling to myself after watching one of those Canada Post "Heritage Minutes." I understand that these are supposed to enlighten Canadians about the country's origins and rich history, and maybe stir up a little National Pride. This one is too laughable to stir up anything other than a giggle ... and maybe a little sympathy for the poor natives who had to deal with our brilliant founders. It shows a group of natives greeting a group of settlers - I believe Cartier was the leader, but since I'm not sure, I'll just refer to him as "Jack". The tribal elder invites the visitors down to the village for a chat. Jack turns to a priest standing at his side and asks, "What did he say?" The priest looks like he's doing some quick thinking and then announces that the elder said the nation's name is "Kanata," since that was apparently the only word he could make out of the elder's little speech. One of the group standing behind Jack pipes up and says, "I think he was referring to that village down there." The priest refuses to believe he can be wrong, even though he clearly made up his last answer. So he repeats that the elder was referring to the nation and "Kanata" is its name. Basically, the gist of this story (as I see it) is that our country was named by accident. Our country's founders were, apparently, not only arrogant, but they also didn't have a clue. If this story is historically correct, we were one syllable away from living in the great nation of "We" or "Talk." When looking at today's politicians, it would appear that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Subscribe to my feed!
Thursday, April 06, 2006Captain! She's Goin' ta Blow!I'm seriously needing that new workshop. We've gone so far as to install the inside entry door from the garage. It took us three days to get that done. I sincerely hope the rest of it doesn't take as long. Here's what happened to reinforce the idea that this workshop is no longer a "nice to have," but rather a "must have NOW" sort of project... I got myself all set up to work on a large-ish project for a client who needs it done by the week-end. I'm using a new piece of equipment, so I was preparing to run quite a few test pieces before working on the real deal. Step One: Make sure the little one (aka Trouble) is entertained and contained - check. Step Two: Turn the machine on so it can get up to temperature - check. Step Three: Print out the entire project - check. Step Four: Notice that the right-hand portion of the printout is outside the printable area - d'oh! Step Five: Correct the layout and reprint the entire project - check. Step Six: Cut up some test pieces of material and printout - check. Step Seven: Check the machine to see if it's up to temperature yet - no, but it will have to do. No telling how much time I have while Trouble is distracted. Step Eight: Run test piece number one - well, that didn't work. Step Nine: Make a few adjustments and prepare to run test piece number two - POP! Step Ten: Curse like a trucker. Yup, you heard me. POP! Out goes the power. I start fuming. How is this possible?! The power managed to stay on during the snow storm earlier this week, but it goes out when the weather is sunny and warm! The last time this happened, someone had run their car into a hydro pole. Part of me hopes that, if this is the case again, the guy is OK. The other part of me hopes he has a really, really BIG deductible. I head upstairs to check with the neighbours, make sure it's not just me. Hang on - the fish tank filters are still running. So is the fridge, and the lights in the kitchen are working fine. Great. I guess it is just me. As it turns out, the new machine in my weenie shop in the basement was too much for the poor little breaker in my power panel. She popped. I'm still not sure why. All of the other equipment was turned off at the time. The only things running were the new machine, two printers, the computer, lights, washer & dryer, a chest freezer ... oh ... never mind. So I called hubby, told him to cancel whatever plans he had made for after-work fun because he needs to come straight home to help me figure out how we're going to deal with this latest dilemma. Looks like we're going shopping for counter tops and flooring and other shop-building paraphernalia. Fun times...fuuuuun tiiiimes.... Subscribe to my feed!
Wednesday, April 05, 2006Wednesday's Want-ItI want to learn how to cook. Wait. That's not right. I want to want to learn how to cook. More precisely, I want to have the desire to learn how to cook the way my mother does. Therein lies the problem. I really don't like to cook. So, while I have no doubt that I could learn by actually paying attention to what my mother does in those endless hours in the kitchen, I just have no interest at all in the cooking process. So, I wish I cared more about learning how to cook the way my mother does, before that knowledge is lost forever, as well as for the benefit of my poor children who have to choke down my sorry attempts at a home-cooked meal. Baking is different. I can bake. Baking is more scientific, more calculated. You put the ingredients together in exactly the amounts and manner specified by the recipe, and the result will be exactly as it should (providing you follow the directions to a T). Cooking, at least the way my mother does it, is more creative. More artistic. There's a pinch of this and a dash of that. A lot of it is based on judgement, which is apparently a gene I didn't inherit from her. She cooks based on taste, touch, texture, consistency... How much flour, water, eggs did she use? She has no idea. "Enough" is her favourite answer to that question. I told her that I'm going to follow her around one day with measuring cups, and before she tosses anything into the mix, I'm going to measure and record it. "That won't work," she said. And, as usual, she's right. Because it's not just a one-time addition. She'll toss all of her ingredients together, feel the results, taste them, look at them critically, and then adjust things with a pinch or a toss or a handful of whatever is needed to rectify the situation. Maybe I will go ahead with my plan to pre-measure all of her ingredients anyway. You never know. Maybe once I have the base laid out before me, some dormant "enoughness" gene will kick in and I'll know exactly what to do to make things right. More likely, though, I'll be left with a gooey mess that my children will tell me doesn't taste anything like Nonna's. Hey, it can't possibly be any worse than what they're faced with now, can it? Subscribe to my feed!
Monday, April 03, 2006A Taxing Experience!Taxes. Ugh! Once a year, Canadians have to endure the legalized torture that is the filing of income tax returns. This year, I ask that you show me some extra pity, though, as it's my first year filing as a home-based business owner. I was (still am, actually) quite clueless as to how to file taxes as a sole proprietorship. I know my limitations, though, so I tried to hunt down an accountant to do the dirty deed for me. The first three people I contacted didn't return my calls. Nice. The next person told me that it would cost approximately $400 to file my returns. Oh, but that includes the peace of mind of knowing that my returns were reviewed by two chartered accountants. Thanks anyway, but I'll keep my $400 and take my chances with my peace of mind. So, H&R Block, here I come. I ask the perky little girl behind the counter how much this will cost. It depends on how complicated the filing is, how prepared I am - yes, it costs more if you show up with a shoebox full of receipts and half a clue. Well, then, I'm set. I have Accounting Software that will rescue me from my lack of knowledge. Mr. TaxMan: "To begin, I'll need to see last year's assessment so I can enter your RRSP limits." Me: "Ummmm....." Hubby: *Sigh!* "Ok, I'll run home and get them. I'll be back in about 15 minutes." Mr. TaxMan: "OK, let's start with your Business Number." Me: "Ummmm..." Mr. TaxMan: "I see. Well, then, we'll fill out as much as we can. You can bring that to me later on this afternoon. It might be a good idea from now on to keep a photocopy of those papers with your tax returns each year." Mr. TaxMan: "I'll need to see a summary of your sales & expenses for the year. You keep all the paperwork and receipts, we only need a summary." Me: *Sitting up and smiling brightly* "I have those right here! Here is a list of my sales and purchases as entered into my Account Software, and here is a spreadsheet with my household expenses, including the square footage of my house and the square footage of my office so we know what percentage of these expenses to claim." Ha! I thought. Not looking so stupid now, am I?! Mr. TaxMan: "Well! That's much better than I've seen some people come in here with. So, on the summary here, it shows that you had $X of sales and $YY of expenses. Hmm. That will open you up for an audit for sure, since your expenses outweigh your sales by about 300%." Me: "Ummmm..." Mr. TaxMan: "What you want to do is break your expenses down into different categories. Office supplies, equipment, consumables, inventory, shipping & delivery charges, advertising, maintenance, that sort of thing." Me: "Ummmm..." (My Accounting Software never told me to do that!) Hubby: "I'm back. Here are the assessments." *looks over at my pink cheeks and blank stare of outright bewilderment* "What else are we missing?" Mr. TaxMan: "I'll be printing out a copy of this tax form for your wife, and she's to break down her expenses into the categories listed here. You can drop them off when you're done, and it'll take me about half an hour to file your returns after that's done." I'm very happy to say that, once I had the form in front of me and I knew what I was looking for, I was able to break down my expenses into the appropriate categories and had everything back to Mr. TaxMan in record time. I sat across the desk from him, barely able to contain my excitement as I waited for him to announce what kind of massive refund I'd be getting. I mean, as a home-based business operator, claiming a portion of all of my home expenses and having spent all sorts of money on equipment and such, surely I'd be eligible for a whopping refund, no? No. The good news is that I don't owe any money. The bad news is that I'm not getting back one thin dime. Apparently, the rule is, if you don't pay any income tax throughout the year, you sure as heck aren't getting anything back at the end of it. Wow. That's harsh. Then again, that's taxes. Subscribe to my feed!
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