Tuesday, December 8, 2015

My Long and Fruitful Life as the Canadian Snow Queen.

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As much as I like the idea of the gauzy nakedness usually associated with fairies and queens of the warmer months, winter had a kind of intense appeal to me. 

It was probably just rays of practical logic, systematically bursting my childlike imaginative enthusiasm, letting me know that naked was probably never going to be my forte and that being as summer is like a nanosecond on the yearly timeline of programmed seasons for my life, snow was a much more practical choice.  Failing in any required area for a fairy queen was pretty much going to put me out of the running.  It was like being a skater.  No matter how great your spins are, or your triple toe loops, if you can't nail the salchow, you are never going to make the Olympic podium.   One has to be able to carry a crown on top of your head without it falling off, and anyone who can fly, pretty much is guaranteed a fairy queendom.  Oh, and if your butt crack has a tendency to eat the lace ... forget even making the top ten.  Skaters butts must be able to carry off lace. 

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Red, Red WHINE.

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Red is supposed to be all about passion and sex which begs the question what is really happening when those dudes put on leotards, a funky hat, and wave a red cape at a bull that is steaming mad.

These are questions that I think of but I am not supposed to ask out loud.  Hence I am typing with mittens and I have bubble wrapped my room.

The Great Escape

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My brother and I made several attempts to escape the farm before we finally succeeded - me having worn out the ill equipped teachers at the little school on the prairie resulting in a town meeting, a huge collection of money and stern threats if they did not ship me off to a better school where they could find new stuff to keep me entertained, and my brother . . . in the back of a police car.

Friday, October 23, 2015

In My Spare Time I Misbehave

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I like to go to the furniture places in SL and jump on the couches and the bed.  It is lots of fun.  When you try that stuff in Rl people get bent all out of shape.

I think it is because Rl limits us  in ways that SL does not.  First of all wearing evening gowns to furniture stores is frowned upon for a few reasons.  You make all the other women look like complete crap and it can ruin marriages.  One minute a couple are shopping for a new coffe table and the next he is trying to trade hid wife in on a new model.  Literally. 

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

The Name Game

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I always wonder about names.  Like, does the name you choose predetermine their destiny?  

I am pretty convinced it does. 

"Tiffany" works fashion or beauty.   "Bambi" is a stripper.  "Elizabeth" works in health care and "Olivia" is a lawyer.

I've never heard of a "Cheeves" or a "Jeeves" as a president or a doctor.  They always seem to be chauffers or butlers.  

Monday, October 19, 2015

Just Like Nature Except Not As Fluffy

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The weather is getting warmer and I love being outside, hanging with my favourite tree in my yard.   I love trees.  I think it is because they have been here forever and have seen so many things and I wonder about that.  They seem so wise and they listen so well. 

Sunday, October 18, 2015

The Art of Losing The Win.

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Aren't our lives blessed by the internet and all the information it imparts?  What I like best is that you can take an idea and run with it.  Someone decides that you can crochet a skirt from old underwear and shows you how to.  You can take that, pick up some old sweat socks and jock straps and make lace to add as an embellishment.  You can see a picture made of beer bottle caps and decide you could also make a wedding dress from them  (and add the lace that you previously made).

Thursday, October 15, 2015

Plump Up The Volume

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I am not sure about this one but I heard that there is a treatment they use in Bangkok to increase breast size and to reduce wrinkling etc.

Let me describe: Take hands, slap the crap out of face or breasts, repeat, repeat, repeat vigorously, stop, wait a few moments, good to go.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

My Bat Beats Your Bat, Hands Down

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We have little bats in Canada . . . little teeny bats that could pass for slightly plump moths.

And that crap about them flying into long hair on purpose .. . Pulllease .... Bats are not blind.  In fact, once on a late night trip out by the haystacks to sneak a kiss with my boyfriend, a bat flew into his short hair and skipped mine completely.  Those are respectful bats.  Those are Canadian bats.  

Tuesday, October 13, 2015

Getting Culturized

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I did a craft class once where we made Oriental hair sticks for our hair.  They bought chop sticks  which many of the boys immediately sharpened into weapons.

It was a summer camp and we were being culturally stimulated.   Some kids were making Mexican pinatas and we were doing Oriental hair sticks.  Can I tell you how lucky we felt?  You might want to re-experience the excitement by leaping in the air and shouting "wooo haaaa."  It's part of the multi dimensional blog experience I offer by encouraging readers to recreate my most incredible moments.  Bliss .. the gift that keeps on giving.

Saturday, October 10, 2015

COSMOPOLITAN 3rd ANNIVERSARY EVENT

Cosmopolitan 3rd Anniversary Contest (1)

What you can't see off screen is the pinata, the ambulance, and the wounded bodies.

I tried to talk people out of having a pinata.  I warned them that I was incredibly competitive.  Why don't people listen to one another more?  I was using my outdoor voice and everything.

The really pretty lady announced that they were going to play games and I said, "Oh No, maybe we shouldn't.  Did you get the note from my mom warning that I don't play well with others, you should hide all weapons and anything that could be used as a weapon - please do not under estimate my genius when it comes to making weapons out of simple things like bananas and a block of tofu, and absolutely no games - I am incredibly competitive, consider all games, even bible charades,  as contact sports and frequently end my games only when the other people are injured, maimed, or dead."

I was still invited.

Thursday, October 8, 2015

The Beginning of a Fashion Dream

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I was big into hoop skirts as a kid.  I fondly referred to them as "skirt tents."  I say that because I want you to be impressed at my desire and ability to use real fashion terms even as a child.  You may not have heard of "skirt tents" yet, but you will .. they are sure to be a big thing ... soon ... keep watching...

My gateway drug was a nursery rhyme book with Mary hiding her lamb and several others under her "tent."  I figured 5 lambs equaled one cow and hey ... cows were currency on the farm.  I didn't have a corner store to hold up or diamonds hidden in a vault to pawn ... so cows it had to be.  If they had auctions for them there had to be a livestock pawn shop somewhere.

Tuesday, October 6, 2015

Life's Lessons

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I tried to help keep my grandparent's illusions alive.  I think it is really cruel the way some kids just blurt out that most of the stuff parents teach you is crap.  We have some responsibility to be kind to our parents ... or at least to not do them any harm.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

I Am Not Dead Yet, But It Could Happen At Any Moment.

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I think I ate a bug  . . and I might die.

I was home alone, calmly eating an apple.  I am allowed to do things like that alone ... at home .. . unattended .... on my own.   And I bit into the apple and took a big bite.  Then I chewed and chewed and swallowed and then the phone rang or something - I can't remember all the exact details because I am suffering with PTSD from the whole thing and my therapist said that I have probably blocked some of it to prevent myself from being triggered and losing it all over innocent people's heads.  

When I got back to my work and the half eaten apple lying on the desk, I almost died.  I had bitten through to the core and what was clearly a grotesque, rotten, slimy mess, black and orange and grossly grotesque, that had been created by some kind of bug/worm ... thing.  (I had to type and retype "thing" 473 times just now because my hands are shaking so bad from the memory)

Thursday, October 1, 2015

Look Up!

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I don't think anyone has ever looked up at the clouds in the sky and seen me.

People see elephants and kittens and an old man.   No-one says, "Oh wow, doesn't that look like Bliss?  That beautiful cloud over there, the one that looks all amazing fashionista and stuff?"  Well at least if they have, no-one has told me they have.

Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Snapping Out Of It.

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I think I am basically out of control.

Can't concentrate, start a million things, finish none, can't focus ...

My inventory is all over the place, I am wayyy behind in all my blogging, I am behind in emails.

I am not eating, not really interested in doing anything.   I have made a tent fort in my office and I am kind of living in it.   I stay in my jammies some days . . . all day . . . 

But then it hit me.  Such an easy peasy solution! 

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I figure the best thing for me ... is to buy one of those collars.  You know the ones where you put them on and suddenly you just do whatever you are told to do?  I mean I could skip the whole headache I get when I wake up and try to remember the things I am supposed to do next.  I mean I could multi purpose use the collar right?  I don't HAVE to be naked and kneeling everywhere, I could use it to be the boss of Bliss and tell her to get busy right?   I could get her to just calm the heck down, brush her teeth and start shopping again.   

My real life hubby thought it was a great idea and suggested that he would be willing to help me catch the hang of how those things work by trying a real life one.  I pointed out there are no real life collars you put on where you can force a person to kneel naked, or to do weird positions, or fetch your beer,  but he said you could improvise with a nice choker and a cattle prod.

The gleam in his eye scared me a little . . . at first ... and then I kind of got excited.

And then, I completely forgot about Bliss and my inventory and all that stuff.

I am even further behind than I was before.

Who has time to even log on to the computer?

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Kneeling is a lot more fun then it may appear on your computer screen  through old Sunday School type glasses.

And I have calluses on my knees.

BODY:  DeeTaleZ Skin A.T.W. Kimber [Makeup] Mixedtype
HAIR:  Bens Hair  Style - Cyrista Hair
EYES:  Egozy..Eyes Illuminate Brown
LASHES:  Angel Rock Philisia
DRESS:  =Zenith=Bohemian tie a knot long skirt (Blue)
SWEATER:  DeeTaleZ Tops MESH cardigan snow
SHOES:  NX-Nardcotix MANA Vixie Nutmeg
  

Monday, September 28, 2015

Some Women Wear Dresses On The Football Field of Life.

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We had a set of twins in our school who were a cross between dolls, nerds and little orphan Annie.  They were like a couple of older English ladies, sitting in front of the telly rugged up in sweaters and colourful stockings with their permed, just shy of frizzy, hair.

And they finished each other's sentences.

I liked them because they were oblivious to how weird everyone else thought they were.  And they were weird - when you consider all that means is that in comparison to the norm ... they were not that.

I sometimes opened a window on the school bus and stuck my head out, gasping for fresh air ... something ... anything . . .  different from the norm.

Sunday, September 27, 2015

Don't Try This At Home.

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Don't try to run away with a baby animal.

It may look cute in real life and everyone is going "aww" around the computer, but it sucks big time.

First of all they have no sense of the "are we there yet" part of travel, that helps to remind everyone that people need to stop and go to the bathroom.  Animals don't stop when they bathroom.  They can't tell you.  They don't hold on for 5 more minutes.  They just go. 

They don't understand "share" or   "make last."  They just understand "eat now," "eat it all," and "I am a fawn, I can kick you to death and hoof that donut right out of your mouth."

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

Strangers and Other Diseases

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My mother in law was really upset the other day. I overheard her talking to hubby. She was really upset about a certain woman that kept coming up to her in public places as if she knew her.  It had happened again that day.   Hubby was struggling understand why she was so upset.

" Don't you find it, I don't know,  unsettling maybe,  when someone comes up to you and talks and you have no idea who they are, but they act like they know you?  I don't want to be rude but it has happened so many times and I keep telling her that she has mistaken me for someone else, clearly."

Sunday, September 20, 2015

In The Attic of my Life.

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Nostalgia and heirlooms and antiques are not always what they seems.  Sometimes it is contrived.

A kid who falls in love with a vintage box and keeps their treasures in it can be considered an authentic case.  A kid forced to keep his grandmother's skull on his book case - probably contrived.  Lots of families force their emotional crap on one another.  Road Shows - those British Auction type things that are on television - where they tell people their ugly painting that Uncle Bernard gave them is now worth 500 pounds - promote the scam.   They always give the impression that anything ugly, so ugly that you hide it in the crawl space, if left long enough, becomes worth a whole bunch of money.  And then they pretend, despite not having a single tooth left in their mouth, the person bringing it will never sell because what is food broken down into swallowable bits so your body can process it and sustain your life, really mean anyway?  You have an ugly picture of an eggplant on a dish.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

She Just Looks Like A Plain Hulga

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My brother insisted we play games of epic proportion.  He studied armies and battles like most other kids looked at comic books and sports.  He had distinct guideline blood oaths for game playing.  

Like the time we got caught in the creek, a couple of farms away, with the last of the jarred peaches, a bag of candy that was hidden behind the molasses and pearl barley in the tall cupboard over the fridge, a bunch of loose change that was kept in an old tin in the bottom drawer of Grandpa's desk, and a can of black olives.

I was wearing an old tin bucket with a piece of metal stabbed through it.  The Biffster was wearing a fur dress which he insisted was a cloak but looked more like a skirt around his neck.  He also had an an axe, a shield, and a sword that probably could kill ... with little effort ... like if you breathed heavily anywhere near it.  Realism was everything to him.

Saturday, September 12, 2015

Run Rabbit, Run.

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My brother decided that we should make our own fur coats one winter.  It was a combination of cabin fever  and insanity.  It had the makings of a really good horror thriller.  

It has been a long cold winter and my grandparents would have agreed to anything if it meant that we stopped saying "I'm bored" in the  great,  "does repeating "I'm bored,"  endlessly, produce exactly  the same results as dripping water in the Chinese Water Torture Experiment?"

That was what we were playing before my brother came up with the self made fur coat idea.

Thursday, September 10, 2015

Social Motions

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Don't you think that "huggers" should adhere to some kind of hugger etiquette or that they should, at least, be policed in some form?

I find it awkward to stand around in a large group when a new person is introduced who happens to be a "hugger."  You know exactly what I am talking about.  They show up, know no-one and presume it is alright to greet everyone with a hug.  First of all how do they know there aren't committed huggers in the group who don't adhere to open hugging?  How do they know anyone is open to hugging and that they are not some tour group out for the day from the institution where they are all being treated for a high startle response to human contact?  I mean someone could end up dead here.

Tuesday, September 8, 2015

DieNasties.

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I knew a woman who called her kids Heather, Laurel, and Flora. Like somehow they had no choice but to be flowers, fresh picked blah blah and so they grew up to be technically perfect and boy were they good at being arranged. I think the woman shopped for vases before the birth of each child. Yes, she was a forward thinker.  


She may also have been kidnapped as a child and brainwashed with the  Disney School of Brainwashing responsible for all the Mousketeers who are now fronting the Illuminate or the Girl Guides.  I get those two confused all the time.  I think those were the name of the fairies in one of those Disney programs ... or the three little pigs or something.  I sucked at history.

The only problem was that the girls grew up to have personalities more like fungi, moss, and bark.

Monday, September 7, 2015

My Rabbit Hole Was Deep and Scary.

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For some reason my hubby delights in shopping for cough medicine for me.  He insists I stay in bed and he will pick me up "some. "  I am pretty sure he skips up and down the aisles checking for the most foul tasting stuff he can find. 

He roars back into the garage, some time later and skips into the kitchen telling me he got me some really good "stuff" this time.  He can't wait for me to try some to help me "stop coughing" and shows up at my bedside with a  gravy ladle and a tumbler of water to wash it down with.  I will admit he looks pretty good in his nurses uniform  but his hair could be a bit more flattering ... as in ... if he had any ...

It takes us awhile to argue about what two spoonfuls is and to convince him no-one ever confused a tablespoon or a teaspoon with a gravy ladle.  He can't get away with murder if his defense is that while the manufacturer did not actually  say "gravy ladle," he is pretty sure he meant to.  He always seems so disappointed to have to put the gravy ladle back and complains the whole time about what the point is in having sterling silver anything if you never ever use it.

Monday, August 31, 2015

The Good Old Days When Chimps Were Cute.

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I have been a bit under the weather, sick in bed, crying, wanting my mommy  . . . and icecream.

I got lots of time alone and a stuffed monkey.

Oh . . . . and lots of yucky medicine.   We can do all kinds of anything but putting cough medicine into some form that does not taste like paint thinner ... peach paint thinner that burns your throat, your chest, your nostrils  and holes in your pillow case ... completely out of our reach.

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Balancing the Scales of Life.

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I showed up at the local swap meet with my hubby and kids and asked where I could set up my booth.

I had good spot, it would get lots of traffic and with the right visual aids, I was thinking, we could really cash in and make some of our long overdue dreams come true.  I think it is so important for families to have projects that they work on together.

Hubby helped me get everything set up and when we were done we had the kids line up, each with their own unique sign.  We urged them to do their best. They were really going to have to sell sell sell. We told them we loved them and knew they could do it.  I gave them some stickers with catchy phrases and the website addy for motivational and inspirational posters.

Sunday, August 23, 2015

A Disciplined Life.

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I was talking to my children one day about punishment and they asked me how come only children have the naughty chair and are made to sit over in a corner.  They pointed out that grandma misbehaves sometimes.  I told them that it was because you have to sit one minute for every year of their age so a 4 year old sits 4  minutes - a 7 year old 7 minutes.  I suggested that if they made grandma sit in the corner for her age she could be gone for days and then I said that some older people probably died while they were sitting on the naughty chair and went undiscovered for days.   THIS was why children should learn their lessons while they were young.

I caught them the next day examining some stains on their "naughty chair" on account of it was a hand me down.   They wanted to know what kind of stains dead people make.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

The Mighty Jump Suit

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Ok jump suits, great idea!  You put them on, they look great.  No need to worry about anything needed to be tucked or retucked.  Long clean lines.  Boyfriend is like "wow."

One small problem.

Doing anything other than standing there looking fantastic.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

A Perfect Field Flower.

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One of the big adjustments to coming to Australia has been to understand the whole racing/gambling culture.   In addition to it being a big part of their life, the costuming that goes along with the activities is highly entertaining.  Perhaps the only day people dress up fancier than for their own wedding, is race day.

I love all the permeations of "fashion" that show up.  Unlike some women who feel the need to hand out permission slips for what others are allowed to wear, I love seeing women wear whatever they choose, regardless of what society deems appropriate for their body type - especially younger women.  If you are not allowed to celebrate your sense of self as a teenager - when exactly does that kick in?  I don't care if they are too heavy, too thin, not enough breast, not enough class, etc etc to wear THAT dress.  I say go for it.

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

It's That Time of The Year Again.

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School shopping with your grandparents is probably every kid's nightmare. It is bad enough just being a farm kid. Parents are thinking, how can we provide serviceable farm clothes, good for the combine image in the fall? They consider things like,” how can we get more flannel items?”  They do this because once they are worn out, they make great rags. These are not good considerations for the conscious savvy teen wanting to look cool. Hence most of the guys wore lee jeans, a belt, runners, and a tee shirt. On spiffy days their shirt had buttons. Whoot, talk about having to hose down the girls.

If your local, near-by town(80 kms away)had more than 8 people in it then you probably had a hardware store. Wow,  amidst the mice traps, rose dust, hammers and chipped blue daisy tea set, they brought in “clothes’” Fashion stores have a buyer for their fall collections.  Hardware stores pay the guys who pick up the bottles in the ditches, to pick up the clothes they find, wash them up, press them, pin on a handwritten $9.99 sign and voila … instant fashion for the farm.

Monday, August 17, 2015

Hot Pants Are A Gateway Drug for All Things Sin.

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I think hot pants were the final straw that broke my grandparents back in the seventies.  We were pretty much heading toward complete nudity - we had burned our bras, people were going commando, we did not want to wash or comb our hair, our skirts kept getting shorter and shorter and the bathing suits were pretty much three threads on a string.  You could put a hat on and white gloves for church, but let's face it, we were all lost causes of the hippie culture.

And please note - despite some similarities between our dress and the patterns and styles used by the Hutterites ....we were trying for Hippie.  Don't be trashing farm folk.

I tried to dress fashionably but it is hard to carry off hot pants, which almost always included tall high heeled boots, around the barn yard.  

I remember the "talk" my grandmother decided to have with me.

Friday, August 14, 2015

The Grid Monitor Reports - Second Life Infractions Worthy of Getting Upset About - The Unsafe House.


Have you ever laid awake at night worrying about whether Second Life is Safe for all of us?  Worrying about whether everyone knows if what they are doing is good enough for you?  Worrying about what you think?  I do.  I worry that you are worried about what I am worried about.  So I decided to do the humane thing and put you all out of your worry. 

You can send me gifts to thank me.  It is entirely appropriate.  Entirely.


Here is a random house I scoped out.  I don't know who it belongs to and no idea who the designer is.  I realize that there will be those among you who will immediately figure all that out and because you are deeply concerned about these people you probably have never spoken to, but I am sure are worth sucking up to, you will run and tell them.  You should know I have protective gear on and am completely vaselined.   I am ready for the tar and feathering for those who cannot control that primal instinct within them.  I would tell you I mean no offense and that it is purely for my amusement and if any of you take this seriously you need to get on the bus parked on the corner that is taking everyone who needs one, to Walmart later for the big "sense of humour" sale this weekend.  The target of my criticism is nowhere near as important as the sentiments I am trying to stir.  Think of me like a fluffer.  I will get you all riled up and then you can unleash yourself on the personal people you were going to unleash on anyway.  You name names and go for the specific jugular and I will do the nondiscriminatory fluffing.

LOOK AT THIS KITCHEN!!  Are you kidding me?

Thursday, August 13, 2015

Near Misses, Not Everyone Made It Out Alive.

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I had a crush on this guy once who used to say, “she’s all that and a bag of chips.” I never really understood what that meant. I was so desperately trying to get his attention, I rented a hamburger suit and waited for him on the side of his street hoping when he went by he would see me and realize I too was “all that.” I saw his care coming, he came by … and went on … and once I got the mud outta my eyes and made it back to the costume store, I had to buy the suit outright.  It cost me a fortune.  I was walking home in the suit, crying, it was kind of sad.  I  will never forget what he said to me as he drove out of sight that night.  He saud, “HEY HAMBURGER GIRL!! GET THE F**K OUTTA THE WAY!!!”

I don’t think he meant to be unkind, the car did swerve away from hitting me at the last moment.  That is something, right?

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

I Think I Had A Paranormal Experience Today

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I had my annual eye check up.  They told me to take a seat around the corner but when I tried to take it out of the store they got all bent out of shape.   Evidently they wanted me to go and sit down around the corner; I have no idea why they did not just say that.

I never do what I am told.  Sorry, once you make a habit of something, it is hard to break even if you want to.  I don't want to, so talking to me is useless.  My grandparents finally gave up and moved while I was away one weekend.  It worked out well.  They stopped trying to tell me what to do and I was no longer annoyed.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

If You Chance to See a Frown

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"If You Chance to See a Frown, do not let it stay
Quickly turn it upside down and smile that frown away."

My grandmother was always singing me little songs with messages and hidden meanings.   I think she attended a parenting school where she majored in, "Sing it to them and they will have the lesson for life."

I am reporting back after my experience with the brainwashing that failed.

I did not learn the lesson.  I learned that I hated rhymey, singsongy, myopic tunes with words attached that a grownup lacked the ability to speak, plainly and simply.   In this case, "stop frowning," would have covered it all, kept people's sanity, and may have put off therapy and the final outcome where I hated my parents.

Monday, August 10, 2015

Chick Chick Chick.

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Never fully understood why the term "don't be chicken" was used to suggest that someone was afraid to do something.   I doubt a farmer ever came up with it.  In fact, most of the sayings about farm animals show ignorance about the animals they are referring to. 

Sheep really are not "fluffy."  Think really curly hair, never combed, wandering through the fields and the dirt for months and then having to shave it all off.  Pigs are not "big fat pigs" that we imply when we label someone overweight who just sits around and eats.  Pigs are vicious.  There is a reason serial killers dispose of bodies in the pig pen . . . nothing left of a body once a pig gets to it.  No way  to prove they were ever there.  And if you think pigs will eat anything, ever been around goats?  And all that dancing and playing with goats is cute until they decide that they need to move you out of the way.  A goat head, racing towards you at 50 km an hour, that connects with your hip .... painful.  

Monday, August 3, 2015

Leather Speaks If You Are Really Quiet and The Wind Is Blowing.

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Leather - how smexy is it? 

I wore it mainly to say, "in your face, bovine people, I am skipping the milk and running off to the city trading in the denim and the wheat in my teeth, for a life."  That's what the city is all about right?   And you get there with leather .. tight leather ... smexy leather.

Of course, it was not that simple.  There were tiny details, like sending myself to school, scolding me when I did not get an A (ok I lied that never happened but only because I was really hard on myself) and making sure I got enough sleep and ate well.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Those Little Keepsake Moments.

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Hubby informed me he had to go to the gym the other  morning because "he couldn't stand around doing nothing."

Oh no problem, you go.  I mean I actually thought we were talking but I guess if you consider that nothing."

"You know what I mean, I can't just stand still in one place or my back starts hurting."

Friday, July 31, 2015

Some People Are Never Satisfied, Not to Mention Any Names Mom.

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No kid likes wearing a coat,  especially on the prairies.  As soon as you can walk, you learn to never allow your parents to coat shop for a coat unsupervised.  It is a survival tactic all children know.

Left to their own devices, parents would get some huge puffy, durable thick brown or dark green, heavy coat that zips up from your calves to just below your eyes.  These things always have a zipped in extra lining that your parents fix so it can never be zipped out.  They are terrified of the potential of kids sipping and unzipping willy nilly throughout the long winter months.  They do this because they envision you, an extra pair of hands to work the land,  lost in the fields somewhere, wandering, blinded by the snow, freezing to death,  ... found at spring thaw, huddled in a frozen mass just a few feet from where the search cows gave up the hunt last winter.  It takes about 5 years to make a replacement for you that is of any use to the farm. Money can drive even the kindest people to desperate acts.  Most of those farmers may look docile but they are desperate underneath those coveralls.

Monday, July 27, 2015

The Lesson of the Blue Jeans, a Fashionary Tale.

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I had a gift for driving my grandparents to tears, especially when it came to clothes.

Buying a new pair of jeans took a lot of work.  You couldn't just buy them, wear them, and off you go.  First you had to make sure you got the right kind; Lees or Levis were the only permissible options.  Then you had to bleach them or make the jeans look old as hell.   That involved bleaching or making them filthy and grinding in the dirt, and washing them repeatedly. 

Anyone caught wearing deep blue, brand new, blue jeans were completely crossed off the guest list for the cool kids table at lunch.  Of course we had rebels, boys mainly, whose moms shopped for them at the local hardware store and bought them flannel and denim without any consideration for their child's social health.  I look back at some of those pics and shake my head.  Imagine walking out the door in the morning and looking over and seeing Dad, Grandpa, the drunk from down the road, and 50 other men in your farming community with the exact same outfit on?  Try that and then go to school and see if you can lean back against the lockers and wheel in the girls ... no way.   

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Life is One Big Costume Party, or it Should Be.

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I still think life would be much simpler if people wore costumes.  We don't always have time, or the inclination, as to inquire of people how their day is going and thus tailor our interaction so as to keep everyone alive.

If those women intending to play the role of the evil stepmother queen/witch etc were to dress the part, it would save so much heartache.  I would know to step away from the mirror the moment they enter the women's washroom .. . using the hand sanitizer in my purse as opposed to sticking around to wash my hands. And, I would say something like, "have you done something new with your hair?  You look so much younger today ... really nice!!"  That way the likelihood of getting stabbed or spit on are minimized.

Especially when neither blood or spittle go with your current costume.  And I don't have any that do.

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Prophesying For The Nation. When Dreams Come True.

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You may want to write this down somewhere because I had a dream and I am not 100% sure but it could be prophetic.

Whenever I see glitter or sparkles or people with white flowing anything ... I try to pay attention.  You would think that teachers in school would catch on to this and jazz up their wardrobe and their classrooms a little.  Can you  imagine the impact of teaching math if the teacher walked through the mist produced from a smoke machine and stood at his desk with a wand that shot out sparkles to direct our attention to the formulas on the boards?

I might not have climbed out the window every time he turned his back.

Just saying.

My life could have been completely different.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

I Blame Rag Dolls and my Grandmother.

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I blame my extra weight on my grandmother telling me to pretend to be a rag doll and feel heavy in order to go to sleep.  Talk about brainwashing.  "Feel" heavy is just one step away from "be" heavy.

I bet no ballerina's mom ever said that to their kid and I really really wanted to be a ballerina.  Ok that is not true, I wanted to wear the shoes and the tu-tu's.  I was not in touch with the reality of hours of hard work bending your body in ways it is not meant to bend and breaking your toes in bloody pulps that for some reason we call it "art" and because there is movement "dancing" as opposed to the Chinese practice of binding feet and shuffling which we call "barbaric."

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Sign Posts of Life.

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I like to carry warning signs around with me ... Like "out of order" for those people who just get on your nerves because they are wrong and they keep on talking long after you have pronounced them "idiots."   I mean there is absolutely no need for further evidence once the verdict is handed down, even if it supports my original sentence.  I consider it doing the rest of the world a favour.  No one likes putting money into a machine and not getting what they wanted, and then some smart ass admits it has not been working for the entire work.

Think teenagers ... they could wear the sign for most of 7 years and that sign could be sooo helpful.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

We May All Look Identical But We Aren't.

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I have a scar on my knee from where my brother pushed me off the brick fireplace and I hit the corner of it and massaged my knee into it on the way down to the ground.    When I peeled the scab off it looked like the grand canyon filling with the blood river.  It is probably the worst scar I have from my childhood

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Dusting Off My Sanity.

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I was watching the kids commercials for toys on television one day when I was held captive by my grandchildren. 

Things have really changed.

When I was growing up we asked for permission to watch television and then we quietly sat down and watched Don Messer's Jubilee, Hockey Night In Canada or the news.  We never walked to the television and turned the channel.  We asked for permission to watch a show, pleaded our case, and accepted the verdict.  If we won, one of the parental units walked to the television and turned the knob.

Then I grew up and I had kids.  That was bad enough.  That day when you are sitting there rocking and singing along with Mr. Dressup and Casey and you realize that you are not holding a baby, and there are no children in the room.  Like, where was that picture in the birth control section of sex-ed?    You know, when you go out with your friends finally for a night out and you have no idea who they are talking about because the only adults you have been around for the past 5 years are named Sharon, Lois and Bram. 

Friday, July 10, 2015

Thursday, July 9, 2015

My Confession

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I really should confess that I am a model in real life.

Early in my teens I modeled my own designs for the 4-H Clothing Club - a highly recognized fashion organization, setting the bar for fabulousity on the prairies.  People flocked to the spring show dying to see what was in for the new season.  I modelled a unique ironing mitt and a stunning apron.  They went right into my hope chest because you never know when you have a guy and he is thinking about marriage, not quite there, and then you can show him your apron and WHAM! He is over the edge and ready to walk down the aisle with you.  Nothing says commitment like a well made apron.