Ikea: Swedish for "out of stock"

After several dreary days, I decided some retail therapy was in order.

I don't think I've ever posted a picture of our kitchen, and since it's a wee bit messy right now, I'll just post a picture of it when we were house hunting.

What you can't see is that you have to yank drawers ope (because they're plywood drawers on a plywood frame with no track) and slam them closed. It's a workout I'm really looking forward to ending.

we have a stainless steel stove, and our microwave is
on an unfinished wood table opposite here

The fridge is at the other end of the window here, outside the picture.

Since this is our starter house (it's under 1000 square feet) we're not going to re-do the floor, we'll just work with it. Our kitchen is highly lacking in functionality, and storage space, and I love cooking, so I definitely want to change it. As it stands right now it's a galley kitchen with a fridge and microwave on an unfinished table on the opposite wall.

The last few days we've been toying with the Ikea kitchen planner and re-configuring our current setup to see how much more counter space we can muster. So far, I think Dave's come up with a genius plan (though I have to say it was my idea to move the fridge)

So, here's the plan:

The view from above. The right of the picture goes to our front hall (no door),
the top left door frame goes to the dining room and
the bottom right one to the basement and side door.

The south wall (with stainless fridge, and stove,
and white dishwasher. Can't win 'em all).

Looking north from our dining room. I'm especially excited about having a shelf
beside the window that I could grow herbs on! (assuming I don't kill them!)
The dog/cat treat jars will go on the open shelf and we'll have prep area! Awesome!

OOoh I'm so excited! I think I'll get up bright and early tomorrow to check out tile samples at Home Depot to see what we can find! Go backsplash! Hah I'm such a geek. After that we just have to figure out the counter top and voila!


P.S. Why is it when you have baby fever that there seems to be some sort of "pretty pregnant women" convention going on at Ikea. You couldn't turn around without seeing one tonight. I just kept my head down and drank my stupid lingeonberry juice (which I now think would be FANTASTIC with vodka).

Remembrance Day

I've gone ever year to remembrance day services as far back as I remember, but it's become more important to me to go since losing my grandfather. Grandpa enlisted as a Rocky Mountain Ranger in his home town of Medicine Hat, Alberta shortly after WWII started in 1939, and spent the early part of the war on Alaska's Aleutian Islands to ward off the threat of a Japanese attack. I used to love looking at the few photos he had of that time in his life and his stories during the war. I hate that there are gaps in what I know of the story. He spent time there before being shipped overseas, where he ended up meeting my grandmother. My great grandfather was gassed with mustard gas during the first world war, and while I never met him it was always a connection to my history and a time to reflect on the impact of war.

I went this year with Dave, who was dressed like a relish tree* to the remembrance day services he was participating in.

Dave met up with his battalion, and I went with a friend of his' wife and their two incredible little girls to watch the service. I held their six year old through most of the service while the ten month old cooed and entertained herself with crackers in the stroller for most of the service.

I have to tell you how adorable these kids are. The six year old is a smart, talkative, insightful and considerate kid thoughtful and loved the attention from someone other than mum (who is such a cool parent herself). I had a blast talking to her, about school (we sang some of O Canada in French), about the service and pointing out Daddy in the parade of green, and Dave marching past. She helped hold the umbrella and played with her sister to make her laugh. I can't say enough good things about their kids and loved every second of it. My ovaries were aching when I strapped her in the car. Odd how I'm finding that if we got pregnant now I wouldn't be that worried. I mean financially we have a long way to go, but man do I love kids. I hope they let us babysit.

I'll leave you with this - the video Dave made for the school assembly which he's graciously let me upload to YouTube. See if you can pick the photo of my grandfather out from it. There are also shots of Sarajevo, where Dave did a tour with the UN Peacekeeping forces. I think he did a fantastic job of it.



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*Canadian military uniforms have pixelated camouflage patterns, which look somewhat like relish, hence me referring to him in uniform as a relish tree. He'll even hold his arms up in the air to look more tree-like to amuse me. The more recent pictures show the uniform in its pixelated state.

Can't... keep.... secrets!

I know I really shouldn't say anything too soon.

But I've always been a wee bit impulsive, and that's overridden any superstitions I may have.

And Dave? He barely had my birthday present in the house 10 minutes last week before he was dying for me to open it. (are you gonna open it? c'mon, open it! who cares if your birthday isn't until tomorrow! open it! it's so cool! I can't wait! you gotta open it!)

The bottom line is I'm really just not good at keeping secrets. I'm an open book kinda person - there really are few things that I just won't come out and say.

So, I'll come out in say it. Kinda. Perhaps a bit of back story is helpful.

In an impulsive moment I think it's fair to say we've managed to completely change our lives. I've read about it, and am pretty sure you'd have to be nuts not to think it'll change your life.

This will be both a shock to those who know me, and to those who don't.

The funny part is that while I suck at keeping secrets, I'm a planner. I have a grocery list (usually) and keep notes of things I need to get done. I don't do things on impulse (normally).

We already have a pretty full house. I don't think it's be unreasonable to say that we also have pretty full lives.

We hadn't planned on adding to our full household until we bought a bigger house and had a bit more room. It wasn't part of the plan just yet. We're happy with life as it is - the two of us, two big dogs, and two attention-demanding cats, our jobs, and friends.

Actually, I kinda glossed over that part a bit. Our dogs are huge. Freaking huge. While they weigh just under 100 lbs, that little fact betrays them. Some labs weigh 100 lbs, but they really aren't that big. Our guys though? They're tall and lanky (an irony not lost on their short and stubby owners). That means when they lie down on their sides they can take up to 16 square feet (I've measured! Take that, impulsive side!). Not to mention the shedding of long white hairs EVERYWHERE.

On top of that, we have the two cats. Scarlett is a princess and is pretty much the boss of the house. While I should give her credit for adapting to life with giant dogs and another cat, she isn't the queen of "I love change." Rhett loves everyone and everything, such that he bites things like plants and toothpaste tubes just to get closer to them. Both think the cosiest place to sleep is not their cat beds, but on top of their owners. Have I mentioned Rhett weighs 15 lbs? (despite being restricted to a diet of vet-approved diet cat food for nearly a year)

All of this in a house that's under 1000 square feet. Probably closer to 900. Most city apartments are around this size. But, life is good, and, somehow, it's all worked out just fine. (serendipity, baby)

How would they react to a new addition to our household? How would we manage? We've been barely married a month, and right away have decided to disrupt the peace by adding to our family. It's obviously not a decision I want to take back, but it's a bit of a leap of faith.

And no, I'm not taking about renovations (though I have to admit I'm still dying to re-do our kitchen and blow out a window to make a back patio).

I can't keep it a secret anymore.



Meet the newest member of our household.







We've (I've) named him Hairy McWigglebutt. He's a Roomba - a robotic vacuum. Hairy because of the trail of hair that gets stuck in his wheels, and McWigglebutt because his rear end tends to wiggle when he's going along a straight surface.

It was starting to get to be a short trip to the looneybin when I'd sweep the floors thoroughly and methodically, top floor to bottom, only to find that 30 seconds later I'd see dust bunnies of hair come hopping through, and the next day anyone coming to visit could be forgiven for thinking that the thought of owning a broom and using it had never crossed our tiny brains.

So, when we didn't get one for the wedding, I decided to hit ebay and bought one on impulse. After much delay at customs, he arrived on Thursday night, spent a day charging, and unleashed him Saturday morning.

We hadn't swept in more than a week at that point (no judging required, thanks) and just let him rip. We sat while Hairy vacuumed our house. What a glorious concept.

This past weekend he went upstairs and down, and we were thoroughly impressed with the results. If there existed a true, gritty test for a robotic vacuum, our house is it. I think the dogs lose a pound of hair alone every week, not to mention the dirt tracked in from the park.

Hairy's presence has been met with both indifference and annoyance from the four-legged part of our house. The cats mostly stayed away, unsure what to do with this dinner plate sized noisy (but not too noisy) monstrosity bonking off various surfaces.

The dogs were innately curious about and afraid of Hairy at the same time. A few times it would bonk into their legs haphazardly and they'd jump - not in pain but in total surprise. Each time it was more hilarious, until the dogs couldn't be bothered to be either curious or upset about it, and just lay there until it got too close for comfort and they got up and moved to another location.



The floors here no longer feel like they're made of hair and sand. It's freaking awesome, and as high as my expectations were they've totally been met.

I, on the other hand, am completely in love. I can't wait to get the one that actually washes the floors, the Scooba. Our plan is to name her Sally.

Weekend Report - Ottawa Edition

Bleh! I was going to write about the weekend, but really when I read the first paragraph I thought "geez, this sounds like I'm in grade 2 telling people what I did for the weekend" so I ixnayed that.

Here's the short version: drove up to Ottawa, stayed with the lovely Henly and got all jealous of his gorgeous house, and gorgeous ensuite which has a tub which is big enough for 2 people (perhaps more if you're the kinky sort, but not being of the kinky sort I'm not sure). Sadly, we didn't get to see his gorgeous daughter who I'm sure incites baby fever in even the most ardent kid-free homes.

Went to Sara's bridal shower and exchanged bridesmaid dresses for our weddings (I gave Sara hers for my wedding, she gave me mine for her wedding, we're getting married 8 days apart).

Got drunk enough to try karaoke (but still in a group with the hope that everyone else's voice would drown mine out), which, despite my mocking was fun and hilarious. I also think Henly looks very Elton John-esque in my sunglasses (and, in his defence, a great deal of booze had been consumed at this point).

Sunday we saw three friends I used to work with, two of which now have kids, the other whose kids grew leaps and bounds it seems, and are absolutely adorable, so there was much oohing and aahing and slinky playing over that.

We stopped at Ikea on the way home to find vases for the reception, which, we failed to do. Anyone knowing of a good place to get cheap sturdy vases please lemme know! (they'll be holding glads, so I figure no matter what we get we'll be putting rocks in the bottom of the vase). It was a whirlwind, but we of course had a blast.

Sunday night we picked up the dogs, who, despite my being convinced they would be miserable, sad, lonely, and beside themselves over the fact we left them, and that we were horrible pet owners for doing so, they seemed wholly unscathed by the experience.

And Rhett? I don't think he even cared to notice we were gone. Scarlett played "I don't know you, you're not important to me" for a while but has since forgiven us as her primary source of food.

Hearing things

Last night Dave and I were lying in bed (don't worry, I'm not going there, you can stop recoiling in fear) last night, and I heard a noise outside.

It was faint but repetitive, and we had the window open to get fresh air now that it's warm enough outside. It's nice to have a breeze and a whiff of fragrance from the blossoms on the crabapple tree in the back yard wafting into our bedroom.

I thought the noise we'd heard was a cat fight, and that thought was based on a good deal of experience.

When I was a kid we had this completely lovable lump of a cat named Shadow. He was our first family pet.*

My sister and I were really excited to be getting a cat. There were two all black kittens left from the litter, a boy and a girl. For some reason we wanted a male cat, though the reason why escapes me now.

We asked the usual questions of the farmer about whether they had been vaccinated (they hadn't) and what their personalities were like. My sister and I were just so excited we were going home with a cat we didn't care which one we left with so long as we left with one. My grandmother had lent us an old picnic basket for the trip home.

He was really tiny so my dad asked how old he was. The farmer thought a moment and replied the kitten was "four weeks and, let me see, I guess nine days old"** to which I quizzically piped up "Dad! Dad!! DAD! Doesn't he mean FIVE weeks and TWO days old?" I was promptly told to "keep quiet."

On the way home in our 1979 diarrhea brown Datsun (not the pretty blue one here, but like it only diarrhea brown with two doors) my sister and I argued over who would hold him in the back seat most of the ride home. The kitten mewed what was quite possibly the cutest meow I've ever heard at the top of this hill on a gravel road. We stopped at the co-op on the way home to get him some food. He was so tiny he fell asleep in my ten year old hands with room to spare.

Neither my sister nor I would go into Zellers with my dad to get a litter box or scoop for him, fearing that the kitten would end up loving the other more in the impressionable first hours he was ours. We were too excited to leave the kitten in the car anyway.

The debate about what to name him raged on the whole ride home, and that night. Someone suggested we name him "Chip" because the colour of his black fur looked like the colour of a chocolate chip when he was sitting in the sun.

I, however, was none too impressed with this name. In fact I was so distraught with the idea of naming him Chip that I lay awake in bed all night and ran into my parents' room early in the morning when I thought I had a better name for him. Lucky for all involved his name became Shadow and I was celebrated for what was such a creative name for the cat.***

Shadow was allowed outside but he rarely strayed from our yard. When he did, it often ended in him being beat up by other neighbourhood cats. Shadow was the kind of cat the squirrels approached without fear, and who would come in the house after being outside with sunflower shells all over his head. He seemed to like the company of the birds, and it never occurred to him he should have some interest in attacking and eating them. Shadow was lover and not a fighter his whole life and loved nothing more than basking on the patio slabs in the sun and getting belly rubs.

The sound I heard lying in bed last night sounded like the noise that sent everyone running outside to rescue Shadow from being beat up when I was a kid. It sounded like cats off in the distance were fighting but it was faint. Our guys are indoor cats so I wasn't worried about them. I listened and tried to pinpoint where the noise was coming from.

Dave thought I was nuts though, and didn't hear the noise at first. Later he thought it wasn't cats, it was a table saw and the high pitched noise it makes when the blade spins through wood. He was convinced it was "mechanical in nature" (even though it was near midnight).

And thus, we had a stalemate.

We continued to listen, when finally, it occurred to me.

We were both wrong.

The sound we heard was a baby in a neighbour's house crying.

I don't know anyone who has an infant that young around here, but that's definitely what it was. The poor thing was testing out its lungs until the wee hours of the morning, probably leaving pacing and frustrated parents wondering how to soothe it.

And with that, I realized that if we can't tell the difference between a cat fight, a power tool, and a baby crying, we probably aren't ready for kids yet.

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*Actually, a goldfish I had (and whose name I've since forgotten but it was probably something really cool like "goldie") when I was five was our first family pet. Sadly, it met an untimely demise when my dad was changing the water in its bowl, and filled the bowl with water from the hot tap with the fish still in the bowl. I can still remember him trying to explain why the fish was floating on its belly. I bring it up when I'm in need of political capital, "remember the time you killed my poor, helpless goldfish dad?" I even do a good impression of the goldfish in its last few moments. "Ooh good, clean water! Wait, what's this? OW! OW! It's burning my skin! Oooohhh nooOOO!" It's really quite funny, I promise. Reading it now though, I think you had to be there.

**We now realize the cat was WAY too young to leave its mother's side. The other kittens in the litter had already been adopted out so we thought it was okay and kinda figured the farmer knew what he was doing. Incidentally the girl kitten was named Cricket and we always regretted not bringing her home too. She stayed on the farm. I'm totally going to name a pet Cricket. The funny thing was that our cat Shadow LOVED eating crickets (real ones, not his sister) and ate everything but the legs. We used to find them strewn all over the garage floor.

***At least so we thought. Unfortunately this wasn't true because I think every time we took him to the vet's office in his 13 year life, there was always another animal named Shadow waiting to see the vet. So much for creativity.

Minor case of baby fever

I feel odd admitting it, but I've got a minor case of baby fever. We're not in a rush to have a family or anything, it's definitely a "down the road" endeavor. We're just not there yet. There are tons of things we need/want to do before there are any little feet running around here.

I think it started in earnest was checking out a cute shop in downtown whitebreadville in December and saw some cute stencils for the wall. Now, before you get worried these aren't the folk-art rooster ones or the odd looking plantation pineapples or rocking horses. No country kitchey will ever grace the walls of my house; they were just phrases. Some were not me ("princess") but one really stuck out in my mind as a brilliant idea for our long off nursery.

It simply said "Oh, the places you'll go!"

It's from a Dr. Seuss book, which I happen to think is particularly brilliant. You can find the text of it here. It's genuinely worth a read.

So, when we do become "with child" I am going to buy each kid of ours that book, read it to them ad nauseum, and even have friends and family sign the inside cover of the book with a note for them. The book's message is so honest, open, positive and loving - I think it's perfect.

(side note: I think I can blame Dave a bit for the recent fever... his recent solution to "I don't wanna go to work!" whining was "here's the plan: you get pregnant, go on parental leave and collect EI" got me thinking a little too hard. :) Yay escapeism!)

recommended viewing

I'm watching a program on infant development that is completely fascinating. They seem like little passive sponges and yet the program shows just how much they are learning in the world around them. If you can catch it when it plays again on Sunday, November 6th, 2005 at 3:00pm on CBC I highly recommend it. Totally fascinating. Ok science geek helmet is off!