Mr. Bingley Experiments with Drugs

Mr. Bingley, of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice fame, was spoken of as "lively and unreserved" with "unaffected manners".  He was easy going and didn't care about class differences.  Charm came naturally to him and besides being handsome he was rich and just an all around pleasant fellow.

Of course I've read the book too many times to count and my favorite film is the six hour long BBC production starring Colin Firth as Mr. Darcy and Crispin Bonham-Carter as Mr. Bingley.  The quality of the acting is outstanding in that version but I have to admit that as far as looks go I prefer the Mr. Bingley played by Simon Woods in the 2005 Keira Knightly production of Pride and Prejudice.  There is just something about that shock of orange red hair and the way that his face lights up in a smile that is charming.

So charming did we find him and his style that we couldn't help but think of this Mr. Bingley when we brought our new cat home from the SPCA several years ago.  Our cat who was originally named "Houston" had gotten out of his cage and climbed up into the duct work of the building causing staff to call the manager and explain, "Houston, we have a problem".  We saw his picture on the SPCA website and drove out to Maple Ridge to have a visit.  There were many cats to chose from but our fellow was a charmer who laid down and rolled around on the floor of the visiting room, making eyes and begging us to come and pet him.

When we brought him home I don't know if we had the movie on or if it was just seeing our new cat sit very gentlemanly on the bookshelf but both Keeley and I looked at each other and said, "Mr. Bingley" in unison.  Our Mr. Bingley has a mane of orange on his head, more orange wrapped around his shoulders and back while the rest of him is white.  When he sits, front feet together, he looks as if he's a stately gentleman in regency era breeches and a jacket.  His personality matches Jane's Mr. Bingley well.  He doesn't care about

classes, going to most people for attention  and he is definitely an all-around pleasant fellow who charms pretty much everyone who comes in

to the house.

Today, though we got to see the "unaffected manner" side of our kitty. 

He is still young and plays quite often but today he was running around the house like a wild-man goofy cat--jumping, leaping, playing with anything he could get his claws on and his eyes were huge and a little glazed.  I was beginning to wonder if there was some truth to the full moon go-crazy theory and then I walked into the bathroom.  The truth was all too evident.   Mr. Bingley had very obviously been experimenting with "drugs".  We have a number of very small narrow shelves next to our tub and he must have stood on his hind legs to reach all the way into the back and somehow drag a herbal bath bag down on to the floor.  He then proceeded to completely shred it and spread it all over the room.   Obviously the lavender mint herbal mixture had something in it, perhaps similar to cat nip, that made him go nuts.  He must have imbibed quite a bit because there was not a whole lot left and what was was not spread around the room was a soggy chewed on mess.

Thankfully, after about an hour, our calm, genial, Mr. Bingley returned and for the past few hours he's been sitting on the window seat in front of our living room window.  I'm not sure if he's still too stoned to do much or recovering from expending too much energy.   Who knows what Mr. Darcy would say about his friend trying "drugs" but hopefully Mr. Bingley has learned his lesson and no future intervention will be necessary.  And as a responsible parent I promise not to buy any more bath infusion mixtures that might be too much of a temptation for our gracious, well-mannered gentleman.  

Mr. Bingley with Jane Austen

Salynne ©2011 

Week End Laughs - Wrinkled Ladies

A little something to brighten the end of your week!
Even if you're not a Woman of a Certain Age you'll still appreciate this video for its outright silliness-it has certainly put a smile on my face and encouraged outright giggling by quite a few of people who've watched it with me.



Susan©2010

Book Review - Wanted Words

I've discovered that I am a Herbicidal Maniac who often puts things in my Cacheblanca and I suffer regularly from Aneurythms, Namenesia, and Interangst. My husband suffers from Powernoia and Napsnaps and my daughter often wakes in the morning Sheetfaced.

Confused? You will be until you become familiar with some of the words, all created by fellow Canadians, to express things in our society that don't have a name. While perusing a small thrift store in my neighbourhood I came across a small book entitled "Wanted Words From Amalgamots to Undercarments. Starting in mid-2000 CBC Radio One's "This Morning" program put out a call for things and processes that didn't have a name. Listeners wrote emails, sent faxes and phoned in words that filled gaps in the English language.

The book is not only entertaining but I am definitely going to be using and introducing you to some of the the words that somehow really capture those unnamed niches.

Herbacidal Maniac
-noun
a person who kills plants; the opposite of a green thumb. (Jeff Daniels, Kitakami-shi, Japan)
Totally me; I don't think I've had a living houseplant for at least 10 years. Someone brought me a plant recently and it's sitting on my counter. I'm trying to take care of it, really I am, yet I'm watching it slowly die....

Cacheblanca
-noun
a place for safekeeping; valuables, once stored there, are irretrievable because its location cannot be recalled. (Raymond Gallant, Neguac, NB)
The latest thing to go into my Cacheblanca? One of my flash drives; and I should also mention this is often the place I put my glasses whenever I get into the shower.

Anuerythm
-noun
the term for a song that sticks in your head, usually against your will. (Rick Spanjer, Moose Jaw, SK)
They list a number of songs that listeners felt were the greatest anuerythms of all time: Monday, Monday; Stayin' Alive; New York New York; Pink Panther Theme; Beethoven's Fifth Symphony; Goldfinger; I will Survive; Feelings, Raindrops Keep Falling on My Head; Hotel California; Don't Worry, Be Happy; Muskrat Love; and anything by ABBA. I bet you are really thanking me about now for listing off all those songs......
Happy Humming!

Namenesia
-noun
the inability to recall the name of someone, even though you know his or her face. (Pat Brown, Sidney, BC)
My biggest fear when I'm at conference, assemblies or meetings.

Interangst
-noun
the waiting period between swiping your credit or debit card and getting approved or denied by the bank. (Joanna McGarvie, Ucluelet, BC)
I never used to suffer this angst until my debit card got cancelled & the bank hadn't had a chance to contact me yet. I had to borrow money from an acquaintance & I could tell that they thought I didn't have enough money in my bank account for a $3.00 coffee!
Powernoia
-noun
an irrational fear of authority, of "getting caught," when you have done absolutely nothing wrong. (Noel Griffin, Vancouver, BC)
My husband suffers from this every time we got through the US/Canadian Border. The guard asks "What city are you all from?" He answers Canada. "What's your country of birth?" He answers Vancouver. "Where are you going?" He answers Orlando (FL) when we're going to Ontario (CA) or San Diego when we're going to San Bernadino. Now I drive until we get to Bellingham.

Napsnaps
-noun
the full body twitch and jerk that often snaps a person out of a sleep just as he or she is drifting off. Sometimes accompanied by a dream of falling or colliding with something. (Ludvick Prevec, Burlington, ON)
The bane of my bedtime existence and the cause of many sleepless hours. I also like some of the other words submitted such as slumberjolt and I think my favorite, slumberjerk!

Sheetfaced
-adjective
having lines on one's face made by pillows and sheets. (Ron Boyle, Careleton Place, ON & Paul Sullivan, Victoria, BC)
My worst experience with this was when we had a layover in an airport and I decided to catch a cat nap. I lay down and used my purse for a pillow. Of course I was awakened during the last call and we ran to the gate. The attendants and Bruce started killing themselves laughing; the lattice pattern of my purse was deeply entrenched on one side of my face.

Wanted Words is a definitely a keeper as far as I'm concerned and a must have for any word lover. After doing an Internet search it appears that this book was a bestseller along with its 2001 sequel, Wanted Words 2-Armajello to Yawncore and they are both sold out at Chapters/Indigo. I have been left hungering for more of these language gap words so I'll be watching at my thrift store and checking out some used book haunts. Oh, and and if you wouldn't mind, can you all check out your Cacheblanca's to see if you might happen to have an extra volume hanging around? Then again, never mind. You'll never be able to find it anyway.

Salynne ©2010

Spring Cleaning - A Dream Come True

Over the past couple of weeks we have been busy doing some of the physical spring cleaning that needs to be done. Last year when we thought we would be moving I started packing up boxes of items that we wanted to keep but didn't need for home staging. Now it's a year later, we're not going anywhere and we have had to decide what we're going to do with these packed treasures.

To get myself in the mood I watched part of the "Hoarders" marathon last weekend--it's that show that tells the stories of people who have serious collecting issues, to the point that their children will be taken away or they'll be evicted from their homes. My family hates when I watch these shows because they know that as soon as its over I go into "Super Susan" cleaning mode; I throw things out and simplify anything my eye lights on and that usually means that I want them to go through their spaces too. Fortunately, the spring cleaning bug has hit them too because they actually watched several shows with me and didn't roll their eyes when I said that we needed to get busy!

After the shows we turned our attention to the myriad of boxes that have been sitting for the better part of a year. Now it is true that some of the things that have sentimental value I have missed, but to tell the truth, probably 80% of what I thought was important was not. If I can live without seeing something for a year chances are it wasn't that valuable in the first place. Ten years ago I read about this technique for people who have trouble getting rid of things and they use it on Hoarders too--you place items into a box, tape it shut and put a date six months in the future. If you haven't gone into the box to retrieve something during that time and the date arrives, you take the box, lock, stock and barrel to charity. I have practiced this in the past but had gotten out of the habit because I thought I was good at getting rid of things. Wrong. The number of boxes of "stuff" that I packed was much bigger than I thought and now that I've been going through them it's surprising that there is so little that really means anything to me. Over the weekend we filled several large boxes and bags with items that someone else should be able to use. We quite obviously will not miss them.

What's been most interesting about this process however is the type of items that I found I really do treasure. There is the odd trinket from someone special or that I picked up in a special place; what I missed the most was my books. Getting back my Cadfael series, a number of self-help books that made an impact over the years on my life and favorite novels was like having a visit with long-lost friends. These are the books that I have and will read over and over again.

The second part of this yearly springtime ritual has been facing some of the storage issues we didn't deal with when we renovated with a view to selling the house. Everything was a quick fix and the reality of getting it ready for show versus living in it means we are reviewing the space we have and making it more practical and useful for our needs. We have taken stock of our boxes of books, culled whatever was not that necessary and have now created an entire library for our spiritual resources in the basement. We also put a bookshelf in our guest room to house less-read but favorite books and its our hope visitors will thank us for having something to read. Near future plans include increasing shelving in our office space for business items but I'm most looking forward to another upcoming project on our list. We're going to start by painting and installing more shelving in our boudoir/closet area and then it will be searching for that just-right, comfy lounge chair. Having my dream of a luxurious and private reading nook where we can curl up and devour our literary treasures come true, is probably going to be one of the best end products of spring cleaning that I'll ever receive!


Salynne©2010

An Eye Opening Email

"Have I got a TV show for you!" That was the opening line to an email sent by a friend recently. It was also an eye opener into an aspect of my life that I hadn't really considered before. My friend said that she loves all things British and suspected that we had "a similar leaning too......*wink." A "Love of all things British", whatever could've given her that idea? And was it true?

I took a quick survey of my bookshelves which tended to reveal a love of British authors like Jane Austen, Ellis Peters, PJ Wodehouse, & Agatha Christie. It was also interesting to see that my love seems to extend from historical times; Cadfael in the 1300's, Anne Elliot's early nineteenth century, Amelia Peabody in the enlightened Victorian age, Poirot's mystery cases in the 1920's & 1930's, on to Juliet Ashton's letters written just after the second world war and ending finally with the cases of Inspector Morse, Lynley and Barnaby of the 1980's, 90's and present day.

My DVD cupboard tells the same story with theatrical renditions of my favorite books: Cadfael, Jeeves & Wooster, House of Elliot, Poirot, and Midsomer Murders. On a side note-although I so obviously love England & the countryside I really would not want to live in the (fictional) county of Midsomer-its not a safe place, just too many murders!

Next I wandered over to my tea cupboard and there were no big surprises there either; Twinings Earl Grey, Harrods loose leaf Rose Petal Tea, and Whittard of Chelsea Chocolate Chai. Tea is generally the drink of choice next to water in this household, we hold after school tea time sacred and frequent the very English, Secret Garden Tea Company at least once a month.

(The Jane Austen Tea we held last summer)

Then in one of those AH HA moments, it occurred to me that, next to Victoria, I live in one of THE most British cities in all of Canada. New Westminster, "The Royal City" is oldest city in Western Canada, established of course by the very English Royal City Engineers and personally named by Queen Victoria herself. I live on and walk through my neighbourhood on streets that are all named in honor of English towns and areas. The biggest celebration of the year, held since 1870 is Queen Victoria's birthday combined with May Day celebrations. The primary schools here spend several months and a final two weeks in preparing their children to dance around the Maypole; which I certainly do not think is a good way to spend their time especially when you consider Beltane & Walpurgis Night, the original celebrations it's based on & the May pole dance which was enacted generally to ensure fertility for humans, animals and crops. However, as the city's website states "Our community isn’t just another suburb of a larger city – New Westminster’s heritage, traditions and character sets us apart with a unique identity." I have to admit that the "small town" feel is one of the reasons why we moved back here. I've often bragged that it is one of the only areas in the lower mainland that is considered a small town in the a big city wherein the front page of the local newspaper will feature the fiftieth anniversary of well-known couple who've more than likely lived their entire life here.

Last but not least I looked at my own signature. My married name "Greig" comes from the Scottish McGregor Clan; my husband's mother was a "Little", definitely an English/Scottish name and to cement the fact, her family participates in the yearly provincial Scottish games. We even blessed both our daughter's with Irish Gaelic names- Keeley and Brenna Colleen! So, despite the fact that I have an extreme love affair with France, as also evidenced by my bookshelves, DVD's, decor and food in my cupboard & fridge, I'm surrounded by all things British.

So in the spirit of recognizing this new found truth I want to share with you what my friend shared with me: The BCC television shows called "The Supersizers Go......" and "The Supersizers eat....". As I have learned on doing research, the shows are based on the concept of the documentary "Supersize Me" wherein the filmmaker documents his 30 days of eating only McDonalds. In the TV shows, British restaurant critic, Giles Coran and broadcaster & comedian Sue Perkins "eat" and enjoy a typical lifestyle thru various ages of British history. Before each week of eating and living for whichever time period has been chosen they visit a doctor and return later to find out the effects the diet had on their bodies.

Via Youtube I have already watched all of the "parts" of the Supersizers go Victorian and the food channel featured The Supersizers Go Restoration last Saturday morning. I'm already a confirmed fan and have set up my PVR to record other episodes on the Food Channel. Besides getting a glimpse into British history it's completely entertaining to see this modern day couples reaction to some of the horrendous foods and items that were eaten and the sometimes ridiculous lifestyles that were consider de rigueur during those days. Be sure to check them out!

Salynne ©2010

How to Avoid Camera Loss

I found something surprisingly practical that tickled my funny bone today and I thought I would share it with you.

Andrew McDonald shares in his blog how he uses a pictorial guide to avoid camera loss. Enjoy!
http://www.andrewmcdonald.net.au/a-pictorial-guide-to-avoiding-camera-loss/

Now I've got to get the camera out and take some photos!


Salynne ©2009

Family Traditions

Sunday evening is quite often family night and this week after dinner we decided to play a family game favorite, train dominoes. It was one of those evenings that you see on those commercials that show a idealic family sitting around the table enjoying each others company. We chatted, played and laughed at silly family jokes until tears ran from my eyes and my sides hurt.

Every family has a number of sometimes quirky traditions and we are no exception. Keeley and I have been going to a certain tea shop once a month since she was three years old, we all take the first really snowy day of the year off from school or work and have a sleep-over in the livingroom at least once every summer and winter. One custom that we cannot wait to do again this year is to indulge in making crazy and unique snowmen. In previous years we have created entire snow families-mom, dad and children, or sometimes large dogs and cats. Last year we created Winnie the Pooh during one snowfall and then during a later one we created two of our cats sitting on the hood of our vehicle as well as a snowman who had been hit by the car and was laying injured in front of the vehicle.

This particular family tradition started years ago with my love of Calvin and Hobbes so I thought I would share some of the cartoons that have inspired us. I don't know what we have planned this year but when we do get out in the snow to create some kind of art we'll be sure to share photos!
Salynne ©2009

The New York Narrative - Brand Names

My pretty-much perfect Sunday continued as we made our way through the rest of Central Park. We even stopped and sat on a bench for a while to listen to an accordionist and observe a busker who had a Humpty Dumpty puppet. We watched that poor egghead get cracked over and over again but there was always a happy ending when a family stopped by to help. Once at the edge of the park we wandered down 5th Ave where we joined the throngs of faithful followers who worship at the shrines of some very well known Brand Name Temples.

Our first stop, lead by Keeley and my son was Abercrombie and Fitch. Their flagship store features photo opportunities with their tall, well-built male models, or should I say young god's of the male physique. Plaid shirted young Homo-sapians exposing their bronzed six-packs and underwear along with surprisingly modestly dressed young women bid you warm welcome at the front door. It's a good thing because it provides a distraction so you don't realize until you've been sucked into the Abercrombie vortex that sales are NOT part of the observance at the store. You get to stand beside these stunning looking people in front of a backdrop that features the ripped torso's of more scantily clad models while a store appointed photographer takes a Polaroid shot. This feature seemed to be the highlight for anyone of the female sex although my cynical daughter murmured to me a moment before we took our turn, "he's probably gay but I'm going to close my eyes and dream." The store itself was badly lighted, the throbbing club-like music was extremely loud, aisles were cramped and crowded and if you are one of those people allergic to perfume it would be a deathtrap. I think they have their signature scent diffused somehow throughout the entire store. BFF and I found a chair and parked ourselves while everyone else wandered off; thankfully, we were not there long but it did give our tender tootsies a rest. Considering it is such a shrine to fashion it would have been nice if like at temples centuries ago some of their staff could have bathed and perfumed our feet.

As you can probably tell from my little rant I'm pretty cynical when it comes to the world of brand names and marketing and surprisingly it is to my mother I must be grateful for these wary eyes and my circumspect view. My great lesson occurred in the late 1970's when I was a nagging 13 year old, begging my parents for the coolest designer jeans of the time, dark blue Sergio Valentes'. "Everyone is wearing them." I cried. Well, that wasn't quite true of my group but all the cool kids were wearing the $40.00 expensive breeches. "If I don't get them everyone will think I'm a nerd." I wailed and cried for effect.

After several weeks of my incessant badgering I came home one day to find a brand new pair of SV's sitting on my bed. I burst into tears of gratitude, my family did love me after all and I told my mom she was the best person in the whole world. The jeans did did not leave my body for a week and I paraded them proudly to all of my friends and acquaintances at school and the mall. Everyone was totally impressed and jealous; Sergio Valente's were expensive and to have a pair meant that your popularity soared at the blackboard institution you attended. I became "somebody".

Mom finally got the dungarees off my body to wash them and I discovered I had blue thighs from the dark dye. I wore something else that wasn't half as cool to class that day and when I arrived home from my busy school day they were again waiting on my bed. Mom summoned me into her room saying that she wanted to show me something. On her bed was a tattered and bleach stained pair of jeans minus all of the labels. She explained that these were the "real" Sergio jeans that she picked up at a thrift store and how she had carefully taken all the labels off and then stitched those labels onto my new jeans. In her hand she proffered up the dissected "no name" labels for the $14.99 pair of pants that I had been parading around in for the past week.

I was stupefied into silence. My mom looked at me and said, "I'm sorry but I want you to understand that a label is just that, a label. The Sergio Velente company more than likely buys the same no-name jeans and just puts their label on it. One is not better than the other but because "someone" says those jeans are cool they can charge three or four more times for them." It was a profound and life-changing moment. I learned a very important lesson and I do have to admit that there were a couple of times during my later teenage years that I did something similar because I wanted to impress my friends. No one was ever the wiser and everyone thought my family must have been well-off in order to afford some of the items I wore.
As an adult I learned the power of labels and marketing during the beanie babie craze. I was producing little stuffed garden inspired bears for my gift shop and I sold a few of them but they were not flying off the shelves. Watching beanie faddism I determined that if I too signed my bears, made them a numbered series and created a cute name they would sell better. That is exactly what I did and they started to sell better because they had become "collectibles". The realization however, was that they were the same old bears and had only become so desirable because I said they were and marketed them as such. So all in all I've considered brand names nice and if I have opportunity to buy them at a price that is similar or equal to a product of similar quality, I will do so but the trappings of a brand name are just that, trappings.

Unfortunately I have to admit that I'm a hypocrite when it comes to Tiffany & Co. It is the only "brand name" that has gotten a hold of me and won't let go. It's not just any Tiffany's either, it's only New York Tiffany's. There is a Tiffany's in Vancouver, one in Paris and other cities but they don't hold interest for me in any way shape or form. The little known truth is that I'm closet NYC Tiffany's snob.

Some of it has to do with the history of the family and the store. Charles Lewis Tiffany was the founder in 1837 of the institution and because I once had an antique business I learned his silver-work was the standard of quality against which all others of the time were measured. Later, a relative, Lewis Comfort Tiffany took over the business and he became the talented craftsman who was responsible for very unique Arts & Crafts silver jewelry and household items along with his famed stained glass pieces which are unequaled. There is a certain quality that is associated with Tiffany's and I have bought into that hook, line and sinker.

Some of my passion definitely comes from good advertising and marketing; the elegance of Audrey Hepburn, my love of the opening moments of Breakfast at Tiffany's and the scene where her and George Peppard's character try to find something in the store at a reasonable cost have all tugged at my heart and brand consciousness. Sweet Home Alabama didn't help my cause as the fairy-tale private proposal at the store somehow got stuck in the synapses of my brain on repeat.

A lot of it also has to do with our first visit there two years ago. We visited each and every floor and as I've mentioned in a previous blog we were treated as old friends and as if we were their most important clients. It was in fact the staff that catapulted New York Tiffany's into that very special place in my heart and gained my loyalty. At that time I purchased a small Tiffany blue butter cream leather journal and I still continue to hold it and use it with reverence.

On our visit this time we spent most of our time on the third floor which contains the more affordable silver jewelry but this did not stop us from visiting the other floors and having a good perusal of the diamonds, watches and other jewelry. Keeley bought a ring made up of hearts; DIL got the signature Tiffany toggle necklace; BFF got a gold key and I purchased the Tiffany blue heart key to start my intended collection. I told hubby that now that I have my New York Tiffany key the others don't have to come from there and in fact I don't even care if they Tiffany's, only that they are real silver.

We did some further shopping in a designer outlet type store and then wandered down Madison Ave because the road had been blocked off and a street market stretched for blocks and blocks. We meandered and took in the sites, sounds and smells of the variety offered. When we saw the sign Cashmere scarves, 5 for $20.00, we all ran up excitedly to the booth and started grabbing the soft supple neck ware. What great gifts for friends and how generous they would think us for buying them something so luxurious. As I was waiting to hand over my cash, my eye caught one of the labels on the scarves; it read, Softer Than Cashmere, 100% acrylic". I checked the rest of the gifts that we planned to give to friends and all of the glued on labels read 100% Cashmere. I laughed, gave the wrongly labelled piece of cloth to the saleswoman who shrugged, smiled and tucked it behind the counter. She helped me select another scarf with the "right" label and I handed over my dollars.

We didn't do much more shopping after that but we all just shook our heads over the amount of knock-offs and fake label items out there. So I cannot help but feel a little guilty as we give our 100% Cashmere souvenirs to our friends but they don't impress me as label idolizers and I don't think they'll really care what the items are made of. Like us, I believe they are the kind of people who will think more about the fact that we loved them enough in the name of friendship to be crazy enough increase the poundage of our luggage and then have to lug it from out of the apartment, down the elevator, down the stairs onto the street, into the taxi, out of the taxi, through the airport, onto the conveyor belt and then reverse the process when we arrived home.

Salynne ©2009

The New York Narrative - How to Hail a Taxi

I got up really early and outfitted myself in business attire for my medical conference. My biggest concern was certainly not how I looked or whether I was mentally prepared for the information to be presented but I found I was really nervous about getting out onto the street and finding a taxi.

First of all, would there be taxi's on my street that early in the morning? Ha....in the words of a Jewish bubby, "Oy vey. You schmuck dis is New York!" Yellow and black Taxi's were everywhere at all hours and times. Then there was my worry about my hailing technique. I've never hailed a taxi in my entire life so I was a little concerned about whether or not I would have the necessary skill. I paid a lot of attention the previous day to anyone who was stepping off the curb for a cab and I learned there is certainly is a personal art to it.

One older businessman did the traditional two finger whistle and walked right out into the middle of the road. An older woman in her designer jacket and high heeled boots toddled onto the street, stuck her arm out and did a frantic wave several times before one of the yellow and black cars stopped. A young mother who was taking her daughter to private school reached out and pointed at each taxi that she wanted, following several with her finger before one pulled over to the side of the road to pick them up. From another well-dressed man I learned that standing on a corner was not a great place to try and hail a cab since an "almost" accident occured when the taxi slammed on his brakes in the middle of the intersection.

When I got down to the street in front of our apartment I tried to compose myself and steady my shaking arm so that I would look like I knew what I was doing. Sucking air through my teeth I reminded myself that it was I would had conquered the Tower of Terror in Disneyland four times despite my fear of elevators and the Eiffel tower despite my fear of heights. Surely, sticking my arm out and calling a cab couldn't be that difficult. I found a vacant spot just off the corner where there was a fire hydrant and stepped off the curb. The sunlight was shining quite brightly in my eyes so it was difficult to tell if the taxi's approaching had their roof lights on or off. I squinted and tried to look into the cars to see if they had passengers. One taxi coming in the lane next to me was clearly empty and I raised my arm bending it at the elbow in a two finger sideways salute. Whether I looked like a dork or someone who'd done this before, I'll never know but the taxi I wanted pulled over and I jumped inside.

My driver seemed happy to see me until I told him I wanted to go to New Jersey. Ah..now that might be a problem as he didn't know how much it would cost; he would have to look it up. So he pulled over and spent about 5 minutes consulting his rate book and contacting the office. After that though he plugged the address I needed into his GPS unit, I sunk back comfortably into the seat, breathed a sigh of relief and gave myself a mental pat on the back. I'd conquered my fear and I'd been successful on my first try!

Later that night after the conference was over I stood in the lobby of the Hospital dialing a number for the local taxi service. It wasn't long before the taxi drove up and I got in giving directions to the apartment. I was sad that I didn't have another opportunity to try my new found taxi calling talent and somehow that ride back home was not as satisfying as my morning jaunt!

Salynne ©2009

It's Just Plane Inspiration

Marc's Daily Writing Practice-October 16

Completely inspirational, especially since I'm in the middle of planning a trip to New York in November.

http://daily-writing.blogspot.com/2009/10/friday-october-16th-2009.html

The exercise:
This week's Four Line Friday Prose starter is rather random... but that's never stopped me before.
So here you go: overheard on a plane

Marc's Prose

Hey Babe?"
"What is it now, darling?"
"Have you seen the kids recently?"
"They kept interrupting my beauty sleep so I told them to go play outside."


My Offerings
Interesting conversations overheard while sitting on the tarmac:

"So do you think the airline has people listening to everything we say?"
"You mean like if I was to whisper the B word, the plane would end up grounded?"
"What do a mean, the B word?"
"BOMB, you idiot!"

"So you definitely turned off the iron."
"Yes, I think so."
"You think so, but you're not sure?"
"Well, if the house burns down it will mean new clothes, new furniture, new everything and I'm good with that."

"Hi, I'm Jim, what's your name?"
"I'm Sarah."
"Single, married, divorced, on business, or looking to have a little fun?"
"Married, going to visit family, four months pregnant and throwing up all the time."

Only 18 days and I'll be on a plane myself!

Salynne

Tongue in Cheek Thursday-Who said Computers make Life Easier?

I'm sorry for not blogging for so long-my 10 year old home computer finally bit the dust but it was a slow and agonizing death as we worked over a week to try and save what we had forgotten to back up. A lot of it was more precious than we realized, especially some of my latest writing and a number of photos.
So stop right now and ask yourself: when did I last back up my computer? Do it now, Go right now and do it now!!! You can finish my blog any old time.

So almost a week and a half was spent with our aged computer and our computer nerd--I say that with only the greatest affection, T****! It took more time than I thought to get what we needed and then it was decision making time. Buying a computer is worse than buying a car. First it was scanning the weekly flyer's for sales, then it was going on line to some of the bigger stores to see what they offered. We consulted with our local friends and workmates and it was amazing how many individuals came out of the woodwork to give us "advice", all of which was conflicting. Finally, dear hubby called our Computer Jedi Master friend and he had very simple, clear advice--of course we should have called him first, but why do something the easy way when you can cause yourself grief, suffering and anguish?

We finally opted for BestBuy--hubby's favorite store because as each sales person reminds you they don't get commission so there is no pressure to Buy, Buy, BUY! It took us about 5 minutes to make our selection and then another 30 minutes to get the thing out of the store. Our ever ready and helpful salesclerk asked:
"Do you want the extended warranty"?
"Do you want the extended, extended warranty"?
"What about setting up a regular Computer Nerd schedule--someone will come to your home every 3 months to make sure everything is running well"?
"Or how about a regularly scheduled diagnostic plan"?
And, finally after we had said no to everything he said with an incredulous look on his face, "Are you absolutely sure you don't want our monthly back-up package?"

That's when I had the "ah ha" moment and realized this process was like dealing with an life insurance agent. A warranty or insurance in case our computer gets sick, scheduled diagnostic plans sounded dreadfully like regular check-ups with the doctor and monthly back up sessions rang surprisingly similar to will & estate planning. Those store clerks may not get commission on the sale of an item but something tells me there's a reason why they work so hard to make you think you need the "extras".

Now it's true, I could have used my work computer to blog, on my own time of course, but I'm always terrified that our hospital has "computer usage" police. I can see it now; I'll be immersed in Blogger, pouring my heart out as I type and a siren will shriek; white disposable masked security swat team members in blue scrubs will swarm into my office. "Hands off the computer, Ms. Wilde. Hands off the computer. In accordance, with section 555 of the hospital computer policy, Blogging is not allowed!" Hopefully, they would let me off with a warning and wouldn't post my face on a Computer Usage Offenders site wide alert.

Some of my friends have wondered why I didn't use our laptop to blog. Then again, let me qualify that. The "our" laptop is the one that my daughter uses ALL of the time. May I provide some hard learned advice to other parents. Never, ever, buy a laptop, an ipod or any other kind of electronic device and agree to pay half because you are going to SHARE it. Don't believe a word of the wide-eyed, sweet and innocent looking, pouting progeny standing before you! The word "share" in teenage slang really means, "you can use it IF I don't have to do homework, chat with my friends on MSN, update my Facebook page, finish writing my blog, feel like watching zany YouTube videos, check my email for the 30th time today or browse the Internet for cool, funky, and trendy clothes or jewelry.

In desperation last week I had to pull the parent card & demand computer time to re-set up our family email account. Although I thought I did it quite quickly, I kept getting this chill up my spine because there seemed to be a vulture creature circling behind my back, just waiting to swoop down & start pecking at the keyboard. (Ok, Ok...so it wasn't quite that bad dahling daughter, but remember I've decided this is Mommy's Tongue in Cheek, Get it off your Chest Thursday blog and as I always say..."it's every parent's job to embarrass their child at least once a day" :)

So in conclusion I ask the question, who was the person who said that Computers would make our life easier? When I think of all of the time and energy we've expended to keep ourselves connected to the world electronically and our life organized through email, word documents, and other programs I'd really like to throttle that visionary. It is true, my old computer lasted ten years so there is hope it will be another ten before I have to go through this again. Unfortunately, I keep getting this nagging feeling that I probably should have purchased that extended, extended warranty after all!

Salynne 2009

Getting Ready for School

I cannot quite believe that it's that time again; school supplies are everywhere and it seems that every second commercial on TV shows happy parents and downhearted kids realizing their summer is over. I'm afraid I'm not one of those parents who wants the summer to be over and I'm not looking forward to sharing my daughter with her classmates and teachers.

However, there is one aspect of her returning to school that I am looking forward to and I can guarantee my daughter is totally dreading. After having to create a last minute note out of a folded 8 1/2 x 11 piece of computer paper when she was in Grade 6 I realized that I could create note cards that were interesting and unique while at the same time satisfying my creative urges.

At first I would print out some clip art for the cover that matched whatever topic was inside the note but then I moved on to drawing an interesting design myself. Much to my daughter's chagrin and embarrassment she's had to take notes with pictures of everything from a sporty little car to let the teacher know she'd be away on a road trip, a bottle of medication & thermometer to a design which featured a melting snow man. I tell her not to worry so much, it's a parent's job to embarrass their children at least once a day.

Despite my daughters lack of enthusiasm for this particular creative outlet of mine her teachers indicate that they enjoy the cards and even sit them on their desks from time to time. At least there is no doubt who they come from and they are not easily copied should my darling decide she wants to forge one.

One teacher though provided me with a challenge a couple of years ago. He said that my cards were almost as interesting as another parent who had written notes in haiku or some form of poetry. It was comforting to know I was not the only crazy parent out there but I knew I had to rise to the challenge of providing not only a good looking card but a poetical one too. When my daughter could not attend a skating field trip the following week this is what I wrote:

Keeley has told me you enjoyed my cards
Saying mine were second best to those of a haiku bard
For years that type of poetry I have not done
But I love a challenge and so this poem I have spun

I decided that for this one rainy day
With poetry this message I will convey
It’s a message that is true and clear
That Keeley will at noon break just disappear

She will not join you on the skating trip
I’ll pick her up and so she will have to skip
Whatever fun you and the class will find
On this great excursion of your design.

There is a tale that you should know
Our family went skating just three weeks ago
Down I fell, I was the first
Keeley followed but her fall was the worst.

Her tailbone and leg she did make very sore
And the doctor just had to explore
The possibility that her bones she did break
And that was the cause for all of her ache

It turned out Keeley was feeling this bad pain
From a bruise and a slightly more serious sprain
She has mended over time it is true
But oh so much, she has been through

Although skating is a really fun and neat sport
We'vedecided that we just don’t want to court
A repeat of her fall on the ice those weeks ago
And the pain that event most certainly did bestow

So there you have it, my tale is done
My goal today was for both of us to have fun.
I may not be Shakespeare, Shelley or Wilde (how ironic I chose Wilde as a pen name!)
But I hope I have reached my goal—your smile!

It was very silly and my daughter nearly died when he read it out to the class. Still as she told me the story I detected a small amount of pride that her crazy mother was recognized. I'm not planning on too many more poetry notes this year for which I'm sure she will thank me but I have decided that I will definitely continue with my signature drawing and designs.

Poetry has never been my forte although when going through some of my old work I find bits and pieces that at least get the point across and since starting this blog I have enjoyed dabbling in haiku. When I do decide to write a poem that rhymes I have found a couple of websites handy:

Rhymezone allows you to put in any word & it will come up with everything from rhymes, to words that sound similar, synonyms, antonyms and much more.
http://www.rhymezone.com/

WriteExpress-Unblocking Writers Block
http://www.rhymer.com/

Lulu Poetry also has a rhyming dictionary and is a great resource.
http://www.poetry.com/

So it's appropriate to end this blog
while I'm still in something of a poetical fog
A great poet I realize I will never make
But I hope you've been entertained enough to stay awake

Until the next time I type out my words
My wish is that you may continue undeterred
in your very own creative quests
to write poetry, prose or whatever is your best.

Salynne ©2009

The Zen of Doing Laundry

As you know we've been in the throes of home renovations-in particular our laundry area. My washer and dryer have been unhooked for periods over two weeks so if was off to the Ticky-Poo Laundromat yesterday. The only experience I've had with these types of establishments was going with a friend of mine in my early twenties and sitting there bored.

Laundry has never been one of my favorite activities. Years ago when our older daughter was alive and she needed 24 hour care my husband and I made a deal that he would do the laundry and household duties and I would care for her. Laundry was not a domestic chore that I enjoyed and we have continued with that arrangement to this day. If I do a load of laundry it is something that I fit into my already busy day; its a case of throw in a load or fold a load and then run back to whatever life activity I'm involved in. However, going to the laundromat yesterday was a very important learning experience which gave me a new perspective on this rather domestic chore.

My daughter and I prepared ourselves by bringing our laptop and a rented movie; I thought that we should make the best of what I expected to be a very tedious experience. We even stopped at the store ahead of time for some snacks and bottles of water. Surprisingly, over the next two hours we didn't have time for the movie or the snacks as we were kept busy filling washing machines and dryers with the 20 loads of laundry that we'd brought with us. The constant hum of the washing machines and dryers going made it difficult to talk unless you yelled so neither my daughter or I said much; and that is when the "zen" happened.

We were each alone with our own thoughts and I found there was something extremely soothing and restful as I picked up each piece of warm, fresh smelling laundry. Being "alone" in my own world, touching our softened clothes, smoothing out wrinkles and folding things neatly became a quiet almost meditative process. By the time we finished and we were leaving the laundromat I felt like I had just come from the spa where I'd indulged in several hours of pampering soul-enriching solitude.

It was suprising but makes sense. Our lives are constantly busy and we are constantly on the run. Going to the Laundromat forced both my mind and body to settle because I was in one place and focused only on the repetitive movements and actions of loading the machines and folding laundry. Now that I've had the experience I've talked with several friends and they too have experienced the "zen" of doing domestic duties. One loves ironing and another loves cleaning bathroom tiles with a toothbrush; both say that it brings a sense of quietness into their day, it brings order into chaos and part of the good feeling is that you are doing something for your family that is nurturing.

Regardless of why it feels good I know I'm going to look a whole lot differently at that next pile of laundry that needs to be folded and just for my sanity I may even decide to schedule a monthly trip to my local laundrette or washateria. It's not quite as therapeutic as a spa manicure or pedicure but it certainly was cheaper, I had clean clothes, fresh towels and a happy family!


Salynne ©2009

The Heat

We residents of Vancouver are used to the typical west coast weather so when things start to heat up it takes a few days to adjust. At work today an email was sent out asking people to turn out their lights if possible and turn off any unused computers because of a fear that we would overload the system and cause a black-out. Not a good thing for a hospital!

Our air quality is becoming an issue and there are warnings for people who have asthma or pre-existing lung conditions. Environment Canada has asked people to avoid driving unless necessary and to not use gas-powered lawn mowers. The fire hazard rating in all areas of the province are either moderate, high or extreme--guess there will be no fire tonight or for the next couple of weeks in our chimnea.
After a very dreary and late spring, summer has hit with a vengance!

I find its easy to get irritated so I've decided to take action--all of our fans are on full blast, taco's for dinner (hot weather food-if people in hot weather Mexico can eat it in the heat so can we!) and although hubby will be drinking beer I'm thinking margarita's are in order--to help with the irratibility of course! In the meantime though a story is worming its way into my thoughts--something about a murder committed because of the irratibility of a heat wave--perhaps a menopausal woman undergoing a hot flash--hmmm...a heatwave and hormones...seems to me to be a deadly cocktail for a crime!

I thought I would check out the concept of a Menopause Murder mystery on the internet and to bad...it looks like someone has beaten me to the punch!

The Other Writer

Today at Starbucks I was not alone. A man with a backpack came in, sat down with his coffee and proceeded to pull out a journal and write. It felt very strange. I felt intruded upon and yet on the other hand it was like we two shared some deep secret. I smiled, he smiled back and we each went back to our writing.

I had to observe him and leave my story. I opened my character journal (the book where I keep interesting notes about people that I want to put in future stories) and started writing about him. "He writes slow in his quality leather bound journal. He prints-just a few simple outline notes and I wonder if he is a deep thinker and feeler or if he is writing something mundane like a shopping list or work notes. Maybe I intimidate him as I am writing with my usual vigor, unable to slow down or pause when the words come pouring out of me."

I thought about how true it is that you never really know someone and that you cannot judge a book by its cover. The other writer, "doesn't look like a writer to me. He is average height, 5' 10" perhaps, with a receding dark hair-line, round John Lennon glasses-definitely old and out of date; kahki pants with white runners that have gaudy bright orange and brown soles". I wonder, "are his shoes a "rebellion" against his staid looking persona or are they a cheap discount pair of shoes from Wal-Mart that just do the job. His leather journal is telling though-he clearly loves his book and handles it softly and gently".

He did not stay long. He closed his book, started getting his backpack in order and that is when it hit me. Maybe his book was a character journal like the one I was writing about him in. Maybe he was writing about the red haired woman in the skirt and new shoes who was eating oatmeal and writing. "She smiles to herself when she writes something that strikes her fancy & she gives sidelong glances to the people in the shop & then writes furiously". Maybe he's put down that "she don't look like a writer", that "she is a frumpy, slightly overweight woman writing in a journal and chasing empty dreams of grandeur".

It was with this realization that I discovered, that despite being surrounded by people in the shop, I like being the only resident writer--at least when I'm there. The other writer walked out the door and I was happy to have MY writing spot and MY private coffee shop back to myself.

Salynne ©2009

The Little Talked about Stress of Getting a Pedicure

Wedding Countdown--One day to go!

Today is mani/pedi day. Most people look forward to the pampering yet for me its a stressful, traumatic time. I used to enjoy it, at least that is until I decided I was going to put my writer's cap on a few years ago and try to look out the eyes of a professional manicurist/pedicurist. It was not a wise thing to do. What I saw was not pretty, especially when I thought about myself as the customer-it gave a whole new meaning to putting myself in someone elses shoes.

My feet are not a pretty sight. First of all they're big, a whopping size ten and whereas most people's toes are plump and round, ready for a cute game of "this little piggy", mine are long and bulbous. Both my big toes slant in towards the others because, as my parents always seem to remind me, that when I was small my toes grew that way because I wore a beloved pair of shoes too long.

When I'm scheduled to get a pedicure the lead up time is filled with self doubt and worry for the person who'll be sitting down working on my feet. It's similar to that feeling so many of us get when you have a housekeeper coming in to clean and there is this compulsive need to tidy the entire house before they arrive. You want them to think that you're not quite the slob you really are. In the days before my appointment everything to do with my feet seems bigger, coarser & dirtier. There are my gargantuan callouses, the grand canyon of cracks in my heels, the start of the bunion on my right foot and worst of all I'm terrified that my feet must smell. I set aside time the day or so before to soak my feet to get rid of any stench & to soften up the thick pads on my soles, hoping the professional won't be so judgemental on how much I neglect my feet. Then of course I have to shave my legs and feet just before leaving for the appointment because I wouldn't want to someone to figure out that I have "stubble" or that horror of horrors I have a few hairs growing on those so obviously horrendous misshapen toes.

When I actually get to the appointment & my feet are soaking the tension mounts. The woman-usually young, moves into position & lifts one of my feet to survey the damage. It's at this point in my nervousness that I compulsively start babbling & asking questions like, "how long have you been doing this" or "I guess you must see all kinds of different feet". What I'm really hoping for is one of those stories wherein the girl will tell me how the worst feet she ever had to work on was the homeless man whose feet were swollen from diabetes, he had ingrown toenails & hadn't bathed in a week. Once I hear and commiserate with her over that or a couple more feet horror stories I can heave a huge sigh of relief, knowing that my feet are not the worst in the world, and sit back and revel in the comfort that having a pedicure gives.

Happy toes to you.

Salynne

A New Book - Diary of a Wedding Planner

You're probably wondering where I've gone. Several pictures will give you an idea. As

You'd think it would be a glamourous job but its been a little...

...to say the least-we're organized & don't have much to do for the actual wedding but its the people you have to deal with! And now to make everything worse I'm...

Yes..sick as a dog. And today I have to clean house & get everything ready for the rehearsal dinner tomorrow.

He may not be my biological son but when ya love someone you want the best for them...but there is a very big part of me that just wants this over.

I have written a little each day however I have not posted it. There is so much advice out there for future authors about writing what you know so I decided that I would start on a new book. It will be similar to the nanny diaries only this will be from a former wedding planners perspective when she puts aside her new career in healthcare to come out of retirement to help plan her son's wedding! The characters will be similar to to those in my own real life...a son who who wants the big dream wedding and the simple country girl who would would rather have a barbeque in the backyard. My son & future daughter-in-law have done what I've told them to do and really have nothing to do this week (most of our stress comes from everyone being sick & relationship issues with other people) but the couple in the book will have a chaotic engagement.

I'll tie in some of the memorable moments from my eighteen years of wedding planning before I "retired"--there is nothing more terrifying for a wedding planner than having a mother of groom dressed in a bright royal blue sequined dress with a blue sequined hat adorned with feathers bearing down on you because she is unhappy-oh and by the way my dress NOT blue; I will never, ever wear royal blue to a wedding. There was the mother who called me the morning of the wedding to tell me and the bride that she would not let her husband, the brides step-father, drive in the limo with the wedding party. She did not like the fact that all of the girls in the party were young and pretty which made her feel old & frumpy. There was the groom that nearly fainted during his vows, the couple who only wanted to pick out their clothes, the band, leave everything else to me and show up at the wedding (that one was fun!), and the little flowergirl who peed herself while walking down the aisle. Last but not least I have to include the life-changing moment when a bride sat with me bawling her head off because the colour of the napkin did not exactly match the colour of her invitation. That was the moment when I looked around and asked myself if there was possibly something more important that I could be doing with my life.

Caio!

Salynne