29 July 2009
22 July 2009
Ketchup
We are home from holidays.
The livingroom, diningroom, kitchen and laundry areas have been labelled disaster zones.
I'm about to call the reserves.
Lots of things to tell you.
I am ex-frickin'-hausted. Was awake for a total of 9 whole hours yesterday.
The holiday was great. 12 days was too short. I'm more of a 21 day getawayer.
We went to California. On the coast, the temperatures were close to what they are at home.
But we weren't on the coast. We were in Indio. In the desert. Where I found out that there is, indeed, a temperature that's "too hot".
47 degrees celcius. (that's 118 to you, bb).
If you turned on your hair dryer to "hot" and held it 18 inches from your face, that's what wind felt like, there.
Ooh, honey. It was hot.
In other news, and this is a big, big deal...
My little company is moving. INTO A REAL OFFICE.
Located at the corner of Smith and 11th Avenue, it's a 100+ year old heritage building. My "landlord" is in his 80's. His family has had a construction company in Regina for over 100 years. His son runs the construction company, now - but he still manages my new building. We agreed on a price, he said move in whenever you like. I never signed a lease. It's just not the way he works.
And a huge plus? My immensely talented friend Adrienne and her immenseley talented husband have an office right next door. Andrea? A friend whom I have known (and adored) for fully half my life? Works down the street. Ditto for my friend, Angie who works at the library - the other way down the street.
I move in August 1st. I'm painting. I've bought furniture. Really fabulous furniture.
I CAN HARDLY WAIT.
Love to all,
Lise
xoxoxoox
The livingroom, diningroom, kitchen and laundry areas have been labelled disaster zones.
I'm about to call the reserves.
Lots of things to tell you.
I am ex-frickin'-hausted. Was awake for a total of 9 whole hours yesterday.
The holiday was great. 12 days was too short. I'm more of a 21 day getawayer.
We went to California. On the coast, the temperatures were close to what they are at home.
But we weren't on the coast. We were in Indio. In the desert. Where I found out that there is, indeed, a temperature that's "too hot".
47 degrees celcius. (that's 118 to you, bb).
If you turned on your hair dryer to "hot" and held it 18 inches from your face, that's what wind felt like, there.
Ooh, honey. It was hot.
In other news, and this is a big, big deal...
My little company is moving. INTO A REAL OFFICE.
Located at the corner of Smith and 11th Avenue, it's a 100+ year old heritage building. My "landlord" is in his 80's. His family has had a construction company in Regina for over 100 years. His son runs the construction company, now - but he still manages my new building. We agreed on a price, he said move in whenever you like. I never signed a lease. It's just not the way he works.
And a huge plus? My immensely talented friend Adrienne and her immenseley talented husband have an office right next door. Andrea? A friend whom I have known (and adored) for fully half my life? Works down the street. Ditto for my friend, Angie who works at the library - the other way down the street.
I move in August 1st. I'm painting. I've bought furniture. Really fabulous furniture.
I CAN HARDLY WAIT.
Love to all,
Lise
xoxoxoox
06 July 2009
Holida-ay! Celebra-ayte!
We live outide of the bucolic village of Craven, Saskatchewan.
Where we have somewhere around 200? permanent full time residents. We have a restaurant (which I have been in exactly once), a bar (which I have been in exactly nonce), a post office (where I can be found daily) and a gas station (weekly).
Every July, the population of Craven increases from, like I said, 200 - to around 30,000.
Did you get that???
THIRTY THOUSAND.
That's because Craven hosts the Craven Country Jamboree. 30,000 strangers converge on our little town to eat, drink, drink, drink, drink, drink, party, perhaps take part in some non responsible sexual behaviours, and listen to the best country music festival this side of the Mason Dixie Line. Or this side of the 48th Parallel. Whatever.
This year, J.'s company did not buy a VIP tent, we did not buy tickets early, and generally did not want to go.
So we're off to California instead. We leave tomorrow (at 2am... fun!) and arrive in LA JUST when Michael Jackson's Funeral lets out...
Wish me luck, will you???!?!
Today was busy. All the last minute things had to be procured, lists made, unmade, checked, unchecked, phone calls made, speeding to and from the city, and in the middle of all of this chaos is The Boy. Who hardly ever gets rattled and is never, ever, under any circumstances, ever in a hurry.
After I checked his suitcase against the list - there were several items missing.
Sunglasses?
I'm wearing them tomorrow.
Hat?
I'm wearing it tomorrow.
1 pair jeans?
I'm wearing them tomorrow.
Runners?
I'm wearing them tomorrow...
"Boy!" I said, while verging on the brink of meltdown... "If you forget ANY of these things tomorrow - I. Will. Have. Something. To. Say. About. It. And. It. Won't. Be. Good. Why don't you lay everything out that you're going to wear tomorrow so I can see...k?"
"K" Boy responds.
J. called me to The Boy's room several minutes later. This is what we saw:
02 July 2009
Aah, Summer
The Boy graduated Grade 8 last week.
When we sat down in the auditorium, I overheard (eavesdropped) the lady behind us talking about her son getting an academic award. She knew this, because the school emailed her.
I guess The Boy isn't getting an award, I thought to myself. Because I did not receive an email from the school.
The ceremony was long (Grade 7 awards were incorporated), but my little heart almost burst with pride seeing The Boy, all six-foot-one-and-a-half of glorious handsomeness, marching up the aisle to receive his certificate, shake the hand of the principal (a person we will NOT miss), pose for picture, shake the hand of his teacher (Mr. Corey Petford - a teacher so wonderful I have no words that could adequately describe my adoration and appreciation) and assume his place on the stage.
Next? The awards. Because I did not receive an email and was not really paying attention (I clapped when everyone else did), I was flummoxed when The Boy's name was called for an award. I leaned over to J. "What is he getting an award for?" I hissed as I clammored for my camera (awful pictures ensued). "I don't know! I wasn't paying attention! We didn't get an email!"
Turns out he won an award for academic achievement for Social Studies.
That's soooo him.
We were proud. The Boy was charming. It was lovely.
In the last week of school, the Grade 8's went on their annual end of elementary school trip. They travelled by bus 3 hours away to visit the Wanuskewin Heritage Park. Within its 760 acres there were 19 sites that represent the active society of Northern Plains Peoples.
Before he departed, he asked for some spending money. I obliged and gave him $20. Upon his return, he showed me what he had bought.
I inwardly grimmaced when I saw what be bought for himself: a cheap looking arrowhead replica necklace and thought "I hope you didn't spend your whole $20 dollars on this..."
Then, he said "But that's not what I want to show you...I got THIS for my little sister..." and proceeded to show me the most delicate and beautiful bracelet. Make of pink glass elongated beads, it's exactly the type of jewellery any girl (no matter what age) would love.
"Do you think she'll like it?"
"She will love it. And I? Love you."
Generous, kind boy. We are so very, very lucky.
Lise
When we sat down in the auditorium, I overheard (eavesdropped) the lady behind us talking about her son getting an academic award. She knew this, because the school emailed her.
I guess The Boy isn't getting an award, I thought to myself. Because I did not receive an email from the school.
The ceremony was long (Grade 7 awards were incorporated), but my little heart almost burst with pride seeing The Boy, all six-foot-one-and-a-half of glorious handsomeness, marching up the aisle to receive his certificate, shake the hand of the principal (a person we will NOT miss), pose for picture, shake the hand of his teacher (Mr. Corey Petford - a teacher so wonderful I have no words that could adequately describe my adoration and appreciation) and assume his place on the stage.
Next? The awards. Because I did not receive an email and was not really paying attention (I clapped when everyone else did), I was flummoxed when The Boy's name was called for an award. I leaned over to J. "What is he getting an award for?" I hissed as I clammored for my camera (awful pictures ensued). "I don't know! I wasn't paying attention! We didn't get an email!"
Turns out he won an award for academic achievement for Social Studies.
That's soooo him.
We were proud. The Boy was charming. It was lovely.
In the last week of school, the Grade 8's went on their annual end of elementary school trip. They travelled by bus 3 hours away to visit the Wanuskewin Heritage Park. Within its 760 acres there were 19 sites that represent the active society of Northern Plains Peoples.
Before he departed, he asked for some spending money. I obliged and gave him $20. Upon his return, he showed me what he had bought.
I inwardly grimmaced when I saw what be bought for himself: a cheap looking arrowhead replica necklace and thought "I hope you didn't spend your whole $20 dollars on this..."
Then, he said "But that's not what I want to show you...I got THIS for my little sister..." and proceeded to show me the most delicate and beautiful bracelet. Make of pink glass elongated beads, it's exactly the type of jewellery any girl (no matter what age) would love.
"Do you think she'll like it?"
"She will love it. And I? Love you."
Generous, kind boy. We are so very, very lucky.
Lise
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