A 'shwa moment

We're used to comments from strangers when we're out walking the dogs. They're tall, gangly, furry, and not exactly a common breed. It's not uncommon for someone to make a joke about us "getting saddles so we can ride them" or suggesting we "get a cart so they can pull us around." One lady along the riverfront came up and asked us if they were dogs. We haven't decided what else they could be, but said yeah, they're dogs all right. One kid told us they were pandas and once we were told they were llamas but we didn't take that to heart too much.

This morning, though we had one we hadn't heard. Dave was walking the dogs home from the park early this morning when he came across an older gentleman, probably in his sixties or seventies, standing outside his house with a young girl beside him, probably a granddaughter. She was about two or three years old.

As they were going past, the old man yelled to Dave in a friendly voice "with dogs like those, you must have the world by the ass!" Right in front of the little girl.

Unsure of how to respond to such a comment muttered a puzzled "thanks," and walked home.

So, leave a note and define what having the world by the ass means. I'm frankly not sure.

we have a drag queen in our midst

Being the lazy bums we are, we're big fans of our roomba, the robotic vacuum who does the floors while we walk dogs, or waste time on the internet.

Given our house is largely fur-laden, we named our roomba Hairy, since after the first time we used it, it was covered in hairs. We leave him alone, and come home to find either level of the house spotless.

It's been awesome and we've been impressed at what it can do, but the other day Hairy caught me off guard. It seems he's picked up a new trick.

The closet in our bedroom hasn't had a door since before we moved in. In fact, when we bought the house there was a hideous blue curtain on it that the dogs managed to pull down by lying on.
So, for weeks it's been wide open, since the door I bought was too big and is currently being sized down before we can install it.

I came home, though, the other day to see that hairy had apparently been in the closet. He'd apparently taken a liking to one of my sundresses and decided to try it on, take it for a spin. I think it suits him quite well.

Why I'm up at 6am on a Sunday

Maybe if I knew the sunrises were this pretty every morning I would get up every morning at 6am. This is just shot from our dining room window.


Monday to Friday I stretch out in bed as long as I possibly can until the last possible second when I absolutely must get up. Dave gets up as soon as the alarm goes off at 6:40, goes downstairs to do ironing or read the paper or has a shower, while I lounge around half asleep (or more than half) and wait until I absolutely MUST get out of bed. At that point (as late as 7:40) I frantically have to get ready for work, throw on a suit, iron a shirt half-assedly, eat breakfast, make a lunch and head out the door. It's a frantic pace but all worth it for those extra few minutes of sleep for me. It's not that I'm not a morning person, it's just sheer laziness, because I know that I could get up in the morning and go for a run (to reduce my case of comfy bum), but I don't.

When I was a kid, I was always the first one up in the house for Christmas, Easter, or really any holidays that involved candy. I was up and ready to open gifts usually hours before the arbitrary "you're not allowed up before" hour that my parents would arbitrarily set the night before (usually 8am). I'd wake up well before that time of course, and just lie in bed waiting as every number on the big red digital clock slowly ticked away, counting down the minutes (which seemed like years) until the time I was allowed to get up. I would even play games with myself and think about homework, or read, or see how long I could go without looking at the clock. I think on a few occasions I even tried counting sheep. Every second seemed like years before the magic hour came and I could run to every other bedroom (occasionally resorting to tactics like jumping on beds) to wake up my sister and parents and get their lazy, sleepy asses out of bed because it's Christmas! and Santa came! and we need to go open presents right.freaking.now. or my head would likely explode! (see the funny aside here in question 7 when my sister grew too cool to get up excitedly Christmas morning.)

This morning I had the same feeling, but it's just an ordinary Sunday morning. A few things have come into play, though that gave me that feeling.

Last week, you see, we saw a man with a tape measure about the kitchen we had planned for our house. After going through designing no fewer than 5 separate kitchens on the ever-frustrating ikea kitchen planner, we had a guy come over and measure our place. He got exact measurements, then looked at our plans, to see what he thought was best. I was especially concerned about the amount of space there would be to go through the doorway into our dining room. Just as I suspected there would be an 18 inch space to squeeze through, which, as kitchen designs go, would probably not be enough. But! This guy had a solution! You could seal off the doorway, and then move it to the other part of the kitchen! Perfect! Except that would be ridiculously expensive! And while it would make things a ton more workable, and would actually allow us to have a pretty freaking awesome kitchen, I kinda thought "hmm maybe not." We haven't even got a price about the cost of moving the doorway, but I'd guess it'll be pretty freaking expensive to do the work to fix up the walls, take out the tiled ceiling, and move the door way, remove the existing cabinets, and install new, pretty ones.

Our tiny "upgrade kitchen" project snowballed into a "reconfigure the kitchen design a sixth time, replace walls, insulate and drywall them, take out ceiling and tiles and existing fan, drywall, put in pot lights, move a door frame, move plumbing and electrical work across basement, re-do floors, remove old cabinets, paint, install cabinets and backsplash, write big, ginormously fat cheque, weep over beauty of new kitchen and sudden emptiness of savings account."

In the end, while the kitchen would be so awesome I'd scream with delight every time we walked in, after all that work, we'd still have a tiny two bedroom home. This has never been the house we were planning on having kids in and living for the next 20 years.

I'm SO happy with the improvements we've already made (electrical, removal of wallpaper in the hallway and replacing it with pretty paint, painting the living/dining room, some plumbing work in the basement) but you can dress up a basic house with the awesomest kitchen, and it's still a basic house.

We'd like the idea of having more than one bathroom, (and one that's bigger than your average closet). This house really is a wicked starter house, full of character with an awesome back yard (cedar lined! Most are more than 10 feet tall!), but we started thinking with all the expense a new kitchen would bring maybe it'd be better to change houses instead of kitchens.

Thus began a new, invigorated search on MLS for a house that would fit our plans to eventually expand our family beyond the cat/canine species.

And we found an awesome house- three bedrooms, finished basement, hardwood and tile throughout, good location, and it had A FREAKING INGROUND POOL. So, for a couple of days I obsessed about how wicked awesome that house would be, and, after driving by on Friday night, vowed to call the real estate agent Saturday so we could go for a walk through.

His company paged him, and he called me back about an hour later. The conversation between me and the listing agent, who I'll call Captain Surly went something like this:

Me: "Hi, I was wondering if my husband and I could see one of the homes you have listed on MLS sometime this weekend" (sounding sweetly as I can muster).

Captain Surly: No. Probably not. (as though I'd asked him if he could just be a dear and fly to the moon under his own power, because I'd left my purse there, and, while it only cost a dollar and had nothing of value in it, it would be ever so helpful if he could just scoot up there to retrieve it for me)

Me: (kinda puzzled). [Pause] Uh. Ok.

CS: What property was it you were looking at. (in the tone of "ok, I'll humour this poor dumb twit")

Me: [gives him the address]

Him: No, that place has an offer on it already.

me: (now turning to my favourite weapon, sarcasm) Ok then, and thanks so much for being so helpful. Goodbye.

So, with a seconds-long conversation with Captain Surly our hopes of summer pool parties involving many blender drinks and pool noodle fights quickly vanished. Big sigh.

We consoled ourselves with the loss by looking at approximately a gagillion other listings, and then decided to just go for a drive to see some of them, and see what we could find. On our way to one place we saw a sign for a new subdivision, and thought "meh, might as well check it out." We ended up spending yesterday touring about 5 or 6 new subdivisions and their model homes, and several other homes that were having open houses, including one where the agent had to follow our every step to say "isn't that a nice paint colour" and other inane and highly obvious things to us at every step. I think she thought if she stopped watching us for a nanosecond we'd escape like burglars with armloads of pictures of complete strangers, still in their frames.

At the end of the day we kept coming back to the same thing. We really, really, REALLY liked the first builder we went to see, and the model home was so nicely designed. It's steps from a conservation area, which would be awesome. In fact it was so awesome that we went back and toured through the model home one more time, and the sales centre this time with an eye to what lots it could be put on, and what finishes were extras and armed with a ton of questions.

The debate, though, continued. Do we buy a house now that will be our in-between house where we'll live until we can afford the "final" house, or do we just throw everything into it and live in a mostly-empty house for a couple of years and buy the one we think we could live in for the next 20 years?

We looked at lots again, and finishes, and decided that we probably should get the 4 bedroom house over the three, given that it wasn't much more expensive, and had lots more living space, including a dining room. It looks something like this and would be about a 30 meter walk to a conservation area.





So, the mortgage Gods have been notified and I'm hoping they send us the right number so that we can seal the deal and start thinking of listing our adorable starter home. As much as I may complain, I really love this house, especially after all the work we've put into it.

We've decided that we want to pick out all the finishes, so we know what will be an upgrade, and have a good idea of what it will cost us as a final price. We definitely know that the upgrade to a 4 piece bathroom with a soaker tub (it fits both of us, we climbed in and are not embarrassed to admit it), and maybe air conditioning or a dishwasher, or a tankless water heater. I'd also do some underground research about how happy other people are with this builder.

If we pull this off money will be tight for a couple of years. (ie no kids just yet, work a lot of weekend bail courts) but I tend to think it'll be awesome nonetheless. It would be ready for us to move in this summer, which would give us time to put the last loving touches on this house that we would want to make to get it ready for the next young couple just starting out and upgrading from an apartment.

So this morning at 6am I was bolt awake, wondering where we would put what furniture and thinking about all the , just as excited as I was Christmas Day as a kid.

Handy household tips from the 'shwa

I'm always up to hearing housekeeping tips, suggestions, and ways to keep organized. Mostly because my house is a mess and I'm completely disorganized.

Today, though, I have one to share with my legions of readers. Yes, all two of you. (Hi mom, Hi dad!)

My suggestion is simple, and, like many of the best solutions, comes from experience.
Here goes:

Your bathroom will smell minty fresh and clean if, after slathering your cold, raw hands with hand lotion, you spill the entire bottle of scope mouthwash all over the counter, toilet, floors and walls.



(sadly, your teeth and mouth won't smell minty fresh, though, and the air will be somewhat blue from the experience.)

If this isn't typical cat behaviour, I don't know what is

Many moons ago, when Scarlett was my only cat, I decided she needed a big huge cat tree. For months she had been using my leg as a telephone pole to get a higher vantage point, and, having gotten a wee bit tired of daily doses tending to the resulting wounds on my legs, back and torso with peroxide, I decided she needed something tall that she could sit on that wasn't me.

I figured a cat tree would also be fun because she was insanely interested in playing and swiping at anything that moved, and a cat tree would be the perfect jungle gym for her to crawl around, attack from, and surprise the wiley, vicious feather toys she destroyed at an alarming rate. (I think she destroyed six or seven of them in one year.)

Since I was living at home that summer, my dad and I went to price them out at a local pet shop, but we were quickly dissuaded. Despite the appeal of having legs and a back and torso not covered in huge long cat claw scrapes, I didn't have $360 plus tax to spend on such an item.

So, we set out to make one of our own. I bought a sonotube (used for pouring concrete post holes, etc) at home hardware, we used some scrap plywood, and bought a couple of 2x4s and some rope. We found carpet scraps and glue to cover it from a local flooring company, and built it in one afternoon. I think the whole thing cost us under $40.

Scarlett LOVED it. She could jump from the floor to the 6 foot platform in almost one leap. She climbed through the tunnels and lounged on the high perch, looking out the window and chattering at the birds outside. I'm sure she was telling the birds that if it weren't for that thin pane of glass she would be mercilessly tearing their pretty little bodies to shreds. She played on it for hours, and slept on the top perch without fail.

When I adopted Rhett from the Humane Society in Windsor, she used it as a platform from which to attack him, and the two of them had turf wars over who would sit on the high perch. (he used to be a skinny cat - he's the one in the reflective collar)



A few years went by, and the thing is still in not-too bad shape, though the carpet on the high post has certainly seen better days, and now sways back and forth from years of being shaken as a cat clawed his or her way to the top. One corner of the base is bleached white after a doggie diarrhea incident (you wouldn't believe how gross that was, so I'll refrain from including details). It is, though shedding little carpet tufts regularly, and hadn't been getting much use of late. The cats had been largely ignoring it as it sat in the corner of our dining room.

So, the other day when I was out at Costco, and saw a floor model, pre-assembled new cat tree for $87 I decided to splurge. It wasn't as tall as the other one, but it certainly was prettier (wallpaper in the little kittie den!) and I figured with the huge twine-wrapped posts they would really like the new one.


Actually getting the bugger home was another matter entirely. Dave and I had to go back to pick it up in his car, and even then it barely fit.

Walking in our house, the cats are almost always at the door greeting us. This time we joyously announced the New! Improved! cat tree, complete with catnip and cat treats and they curiously smelled it, ate the treats and catnip, rolled around, and left it alone.

Since that moment I'm pretty sure there hasn't been more than three or four seconds where one cat, or both have been on the old tree. (Rhett first, in all his chubby glory, and Scarlett below.)


They've probably spent those three or four seconds sniffing or scratching the new cat tree, but that'd be about it. It's been more than a week.

It's as though they're saying "this new thing you've bought for us? and spent gobs of money on? I don't care to even try it out. Suddenly, though, I love the old thing. Do take that new thing away, I don't like it, I can't be bothered with it. I like the old thing. You can't make me like the new thing, I don't care what you think."

the five things about me meme

Like the new look? I'm still thinking it's a wee bit too girley for me, but when it was finally finished there was NO WAY I was going to start all over again.
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I was tagged by the hilarous velocibadgergirl of Pardon the Egg Salad to do the 5 things about me meme.

1. My birthday (September 23) falls between astrological signs - in some books I'm a virgo, and in others I'm a libra. I've always wondered what that was supposed to mean astrology-wise but have never looked into it. When people ask I just tell them I'm a libra.

2. I am completely and utterly terrified of anything paranormal. If you told me there was a ghost living in my house I'd pack up so fast it'd make your head spin. I'm not even really sure I believe in them, but the thought of having one (even the "but it's a friendly ghost" kind) scares me out of my wits. I can't watch creepy shows on TV or movies with ghosts, especially when I'm alone or my imagination will get the better of me and I will freak myself into a frenzy.

When I was 16 I went on an exchange trip to Scotland and my host family took me to Glamis Castle (yes, the Glamis Castle of MacBeth fame). It's said to be one of the most haunted castles in Britain, and when I fell a bit behind in the tour I recall seeing a little boy run by in a sailor's uniform and then quickly catching up with the group. I was embarrassed and don't think anyone else saw what I saw but the guide gleefully announced that she often sees the pageboy run through that room I freaked out internally and did NOT wish to linger in the gift shop.

3. I cannot watch any movie with Nicholas Cage in it. He annoys me to the nth degree. I find him whiney, snively, and just not someone I can tolerate, no matter what character he happens to (or tries to) portray. I find him even more annoying knowing he named his kid Kal-el.

4. I can't stand clutter, and while we've made great strides in the last few weeks to de-clutter our house (donation of several garbage bags and boxes full of stuff to a cerebral palsy charity and a big recycling/garbage pickup a few weeks ago, it still has a long way to go. I partially blame the size of our house - you can't hide clutter in a teeny tiny house - it tends to show up everywhere. We're planning on arranging a special pickup of junk in the near future.

5. I was an ovo lacto vegetarian for two years starting when I was 19 (that means I only ate eggs and dairy), then for another 6 years as an ovo lacto pesce vegetarian (meaning I also ate fish and seafood) until just before our wedding in august, when I gave in to a several year long craving for chicken. right now in our oven is a big turkey breast roasting. I haven't reconciled the "eating an animal" thing yet entirely in my head, I do it anyway. I made delicious roast turkey breast last night for dinner, and made home made turkey soup (since we're both sick) for lunch. That may end up being dinner too.

Who else is tagged? Anyone who hasn't done this one!

Doggone Crazy, I think

There are so many stories that go along with my trips to ikea (oddly, I know), so after spending the weekend shopping for things to pull a look together for the house, I'm kinda pooped so here's just one of the things I needed (pronounced "gave in to commercialism full strength, unabashedly, and pitifully") to get was these hooks for the dog leashes.

See? How could I say no? They MATCHED THEIR LEASHES AND COLLARS. It was totally destiny.


Now don't the dogs look happier now? It must be so much less stressful for them to know your leash is hanging on a dog bum that matches your collar and leash, isn't it boys!


(I think that's a yes, in case you're wondering. It certainly isn't a "for the love of God woman, we know you have cookies in your hand, will you just put that stupid flashey thing down and FORK THEM OVER! NOW!" No, they're definitely not saying that.)

Ode to Clucky

The sound of one thing in particular has always reminded me of home, our home, here in the 'shwa. Surely there are sounds I associate with my parents' home, like the sound of rain hitting the sunroom windows in a storm, or the yahoos across the street living with their parents into their late twenties, playing with their souped up honda civics or screaming obscenities at their parents. There are sounds I associate with work, like my heels as I run between courts, cells, and the crown's office. But one sound makes me smile, occasionally wince, and occasionally laugh and always reminds me of home, our home.

After a long day at work, in the middle of the night, it echoes through the hall, or in the bedroom. It often catches me by surprise, but has been a source of entertainment to be sure.

Now, it's suddenly gone silent. I'm of course thinking of Clucky, our rubber chicken dog toy.

Somehow, the squeaker has finally met its match after more than two years of use. To be fair, it's been two years of heavy use - two dogs chewing on it and openly playing tug of war over it, and both Dave and I stepping on it.

The worst interactions I've had with Clucky (so named because it rhymes with...) is the unexpected one, the one where you getting up in the middle of the night, sneak out of bed slowly to not wake up your partner, tiptoe across the floor, squinting to make sure you aren't stepping on any one of the four animals and, when you finally think you're in the clear, slinking quickly into the bathroom, only to step on laundry, that suddenly emits this loud SQUEEEEAAAAAAKKKKKKKK that pierces the silence. The wheeze that follows sounds like Clucky's laughing at you.

The sound itself is enough to cause heart attacks, if not for the person who stepped on Clucky, then for the partner who, until that moment, had been quietly sleeping in bed.

And so, a new, mute phase of Clucky's life has begun. The dogs seem less interested in Clucky then before, there seems to be less "hey that's mine" or "give it back" going on than there was before, no one is vying for sole chewing rights on Clucky. Instead of its vigorous squeak-wheeze-squeak, it's been straight wheezing when the dogs play with Clucky.

It looks like life is going to get a bit more peaceful in the house - for both the chicken, and us.

Of bridesmaid dresses, doors, and stripping

I went bridesmaid dress shopping yesterday, and now I have lots of stripping to do. I came home with three doors.

My sister and another bridesmaid picked me up in the 'shwa to go dress shopping around 10am. The goal of the trip was simple: figure out what hideous taffeta number with puffed sleeves my sister would have me and her other two attendants wear for her wedding, leaving us resembling hideous monsters, and her, the shining bride in the perfect dress.

(Well, not exactly, but I'm all about the dramatic flair.)

After hitting two stores we had a winner, deposits laid down, and dresses ordered. The dress we all picked out (given that the bride is nothing like I described above) are cute, and have neither taffeta nor puffed sleeves as I'd feared. I can't find a version online, but they're remarkably similar (cough cough, knockoff, cough cough) to this dress, only it'll be in misty blue, with a misty blue bow, instead of a black bow with blue that the original required. Perfect!

After much shopping, we decided to hit a restaurant, and since one of our crew has some pretty severe allergies (and since she's nice and all and I'm awkward with epi pens) we ended up going to East Side Mario's for lunch.

I haven't really ever been a fan of the place, and generally have a pretty strong dislike for chain restaurants, but I was happy to go along with the crowd.

I ordered a broccoli and chicken pasta, which ended up being a definite disappointment. there were FOUR pieces of broccoli in the whole thing. To me the attraction to the dish was BROCCOLI, followed by pasta and chicken. When the waitress asked, I did say things were fine, but I was surprised there didn't seem to be much broccoli to their broccoli and chicken pasta she offered to bring me more. Being a bit of a broccoli fiend I was excited at the prospect and quickly agreed. Unfortunately things didn't really go as planned.

She came back about 15 minutes later with a few pieces of broccoli, but something was amiss. This broccoli looked like it'd been open roasted by one of the cooks' bic lighters on a dare. A wafting aroma of burnt veggie was pretty evident, and when I picked up a piece some of it actually crumbled in my hand. Broccoli is good. Burnt broccoli, not so much.

We headed back chez mes parents in Cobourg and I realized we might have some time to kill before my sister drove me back to the 'shwa on her way back to the hammer (Hamilton for you non-locals).

So, I commandeered my mum to check out this vintage building supply company which only sells old stuff - doors, planks, pretty much anything. I even brought another of my sister's bridesmaids along since she has an older house and we swapped reno stories through the day (hoo-ee am I exciting conversationalist!).

When we moved in to our tiny abode there was no door on the closet in our room, so I'd like to remedy that with a nice door that actually suits the age of the house. We also spent WAY too much time stripping one of the bedroom doors down to the original wood, and wanted a knob to match the original holes in the door that would suit the decor.

We arrived at Legacy building supply, only to find a bar across the driveway and a sign which read:

In a challenge to the culture of productivity, speed and consumerism,our shop will be closed from December 18/06 through January 16/07. We would like to wish everyone a safe and happy holiday season.

What a cool idea, if it weren't for the fact that I really don't get there very often and even less often when they're actually home. I really wanted to see if they had anything that would suit our closet outside in the yard, so I slipped under the gate and walked around drooling over the beautiful wrought iron gates and huge old door frames and posts and toodled back to the car, freezing, and unsuccessful. There were no doors to be found there

Bummed, mum suggested we check out the habitat for humanity resale store just a block away and I just about keeled over with excitement. Inside I didn't even get to see all the aisles, but found a door that would need only two saw cuts to fit our closet (old houses = odd sizing), and two other doors with handles on them that were just gorgeous and about the right age for our house.

I asked one of the kids working there if I could just buy the knobs and leave the doors, but after checking with his manager we couldn't.

That left me buying one door but no knobs for the closet, and, in a rash move, I bought two other doors for their knobs alone. For $15 each, you really can't beat the price so I went for it. I'm sure I've seen knobs with backplates like them for $60 each, and you can't buy a new antique looking passage handle for $15. Score!

I also picked up an MDF board for the basement for $1.50.

As you might imagine, fitting three people, three doors, and an MDF board in the back of a camry isn't an easy task and it certainly wasn't a well thought out plan on my part (those of you who know me are sensing a theme). The ride home involved me sitting with one ass cheek on the folded down seat, and the other clenched in midair, hoping my mum would avoid any unnecessary turns and planning a speech explaining things for when the officer pulled us over.

Laughing at my idiocy on the way home I realized, though that only one of the doors was excess, since our bathroom door is a regular hollow core one, and now we have a nice vintage one to replace it.

So now, we have beautiful hardware just waiting to be cleaned and replaced, and two (more) doors to strip. Apparently I like making work for myself.

So this blog thing? I'm supposed to write in it eh? I can't just leave it to write posts on its own? Who knew!

Here's life in the 'shwa over the last week in point form:

• I got my dad a really cool (if I do say so myself) aromatherapy heat pack you just microwave and it heats up and smells beautiful. Buying it was an odd experience where some dude with a heavy French (not Quebec) accent draped it over my neck and over my shoulders - it was all a little bit too touchey-feeley for me, but it felt nice. I thought it was so cool I decided to get myself one this week after having had two major migraines. Unfortunately my timing is once again impeccable, and the kiosk that sells them has moved on to greener pastures (ie not the 'shwa). Will try to find myself one online.

• I bought this t-shirt for myself and now it's the only t-shirt I want to wear. It says
  
  
  Haikus are easy
  But sometimes they don't make sense
  Refrigerator
  
  
  I think it's even funnier when people don't get it.

• I also got this one for Dave for Christmas.

• We bought some catnip for the cats last time we were out to the pet store and I realized that I'd forgotten how hilarious that stuff is. Rhett goes absolutely bananas for it. He eats it off the floor, while Scarlett just sniffs it, but it usually ends in both of them in a full wrestling match. In said matches Rhett just does his best to sit on Scarlett most of the time, and when he's successful she lets out the most awful "you're sitting on me you big oaf!" squeak. Truly (and sadly) this is what passes for entertainment in our house.

• I'm confident that by the end of this weekend our house will be (mostly) organized. Most of the week off that wasn't spent doing holiday visiting was spent shopping (yay new desk, so long saggy particleboard nightmare!), hemming curtains (they're not old lady sheers now!) and figuring out a spot for our stuff. Slowly but surely the place is coming together, much to my excitement and relief.

• New Years' day I made a lovely turkey breast dinner, with stuffing, green beans and my spinach salad (baby spinach, mango cubes, mandarin oranges, pomegranate seeds, and coconut with a raspberry vinaigrette dressing).

• I tried stove top stuffing for the first time and MAN is that stuff good! I'm a huge fan of the home made variety, but it totally did the trick.

• We've given away some of our old kitchen appliances and dishes to a girl moving in to the social housing where my mum is a director, and are giving away our old clothes and other things to a cerebral palsy charity so the big cleanout and organization sweep will get done.

• Our four-month-iversary was on Boxing day, which means our marriage has outlasted Kid Rock and Pamela Anderson! Go us!

• We had a date night last night - dinner (mall Thai food, which was actually wicked good!) and a movie. We both really loved Stranger Than Fiction, and it made a great date movie.

• Tomorrow is matron of honour dress shopping day for my sister's wedding. Bring on the taffeta and puffy sleeves! I'll wear it all!

• Canada won the world juniors hockey tournament today! yay!

A gourmet Christmas in the 'shwa

It's been a gourmet Christmas for us in the 'shwa in that most of our gifts have been much needed (or coveted) things for the kitchen.

My parents got us a wicked set of pots and pans, to replace the mish-mash of pots and pans we used before, most of which were wedding gifts from my parents wedding some 33 years ago, and the remainder were yard sale finds. Unfortunately with the new pots there isn't the same warning system to alert us when the pot was boiling. With our old set they were so warped that when they (finally) boiled on our glass cooktop they would shake back and forth uncontrollably, and I don't imagine the new set does that. We're making a frittata (sundried tomato pasta, eggs, red pepper, peas, spinach, zucchini, sundried tomatoes, and feta all stir fried then baked in an egg and egg white mixture) for dinner and I can't wait to try them out.

We were also the glad recipients of a bread maker which is not only pretty but bakes some pretty wicked bread. We've been enjoying plain white bread so far, with a loaf of cheese bread and one with basil in it for variety and as I type a loaf of cinnamon raisin bread is rising, just waiting to be baked so we can eat it with a wee bit of butter. No doubt we'll be cursing it when our hips and bellies expand beyond their current girth.

A combo blender/food processor will help make some wicked soups this week too. Heck, I might even get in a batch of latkes as well.

All this on a whirlwind tour of the province involving Omemee, Cobourg, the 'shwa, and Windsor from the 23rd until we got home last night. It was great to see family and friends over the holidays.

Our living/dining/hallways are slowly but surely getting done. They declared the process complete last week but we weren't entirely happy with the results (still tons of paint in the grain of the wood, bumpy walls were still bumpy and paint work was a bit sloppy) so they're back today to finish things off. Ah the advantages of holding the cheque until the end. It still looks like a wee bit of a disaster area with us not being sure where we should put the furniture and plants back but progress is being made and that's what matters.

What did Santa bring you?

Happy Holidays!

We had our first of three turkey dinners today and hours later I'm still full. My mum made a full Christmas dinner for 44 people - my mum's extended family.

I haven't been feeling too much holiday spirit lately and I blame the weather. Drizzly, grey rainy days with no snow just don't make it feel like Christmas.

We're off to my parents' house early tomorrow, where we'll head to church for the service and a carol sing and then home for Christmas dinner with my family there. It'll be the first time I've ever not been home Christmas morning. We're driving to Windsor late tomorrow night then back to the 'shwa to get the house sorted out from all the painting business.

Hope you are able to have a relaxing, enjoyable holiday, surrounded by the people who love you.

Merry Christmas to you and yours from us in the 'shwa!

A place for everything, and everything in its place

One thing about living in a small house (under 1000 square feet) means that you really have to be organized with your stuff and have a place for everything, or risk having an always-messy house. Since we moved in we've picked the "messy house" option but it's been really bothering me lately.

Our basement, for more than a year now (but who's keeping track) has been the junk room. We each had easily enough furniture and stuff to furnish this house on our own, without the other person when we moved in together, and neither of us had a chance to de-junkify our belongings and get rid of duplicates before we moved in.

It truly was the perfect storm for a messy house. I started my job at the 7th circle of hell, leaving a furnished apartment in Ottawa, and my parents kind enough to load up a uhaul of my stuff and drive it here. Dave had all of his things from when he lived in Toronto in boxes at his mom's house and just loaded up the truck. When he and the crew arrived in the 'shwa it was pouring rain, so everything went in the closest entrance to the basement "to be sorted out later".

Later has never really come.

We're full of excuses as to why:

• Last fall and winter we set what I think was some kind of record- every weekend we were either visiting friends or had people over. I can't recall one weekend where we had time just to unpack and relax. When we did get a chance, it was far from our list of fun things to do.
• We've had eight weddings this year, including our own. In the three months after our own wedding we've been to four weddings and a funeral.
  
• We spend so much freaking time cleaning up the masses of dog hair (and cat hair, but to a lesser extent) on the main floor and upstairs that cleaning the basement just wasn't a priority.

So, the basement quickly became the repository of crap. Don't know where to put it? Throw it in the basement! People are coming over and there's a heat gun and drop cloths everywhere? Basement! Important paperwork that should be neatly filed? Pile it in the basement! Box of who-knows what that isn't labeled? Basement, basement, basement!

Thus today became the "long overdue make basement somewhat decent" day. Despite the chaos upstairs (we're having the living/dining room and front and upstairs hallways and ceilings repaired, primed and painted, will show pics later) we made a significant dent in the work that needed to be done. We now have garbage bags for "donate" stuff, plain old garbage, and recycling boxes overflowing, but the improvement is noticeable. A few more hours down there and it may even be a place we can take people on "the tour" when they come to visit. (we've lived here for a year and almost 4 months and I think my sister has yet to see the basement)

It's starting to look like we may eventually have a place for everything and everything (well, almost everything) in its place.

Now if only I had started my Christmas shopping.