The week in pictures

Here you go. Sorry, no witty post this morning. I used up all my finger speed writing an incredibly long email to an old friend of mine. And I don't mean "old" as in "you're gonna be 46" old, I mean "I've known her for 34 years" old.

Eight wiggling, squawking black and brown fur balls. Their eyes are starting to open and one of them can even stand on all 4 legs!

Outside my office this week. What a gaggle (hee hee, I'm funny)
At least there were two of them taking care of things.
Right under my office window they were.

Let's get ready to garden.
Essential tools.

One must have the measuring tape to make sure the rows are evenly spaced and one must have the string to make sure the rows are straight. I was not in charge of this phase of the planting. I am, however, in charge of the next phase of planting, which is the rest of it, and more than likely will NOT include the string and measuring tape! I like a garden with "character" if you know what I mean.

In all honesty, bending over like that is just too hard on the back!

So, I've got a question for all you. Here's the situation. Last night #1Son was closing the restaurant, which meant he worked until about 12:15 - 12:30. I was tired and had been up since 4:30 so decided to head to bed at 9:30, set the alarm for 12 and get up and go get him.

And, if memory serves me right, I don't recall my parents coming to get me at midnight way back when, when I worked at McD's (Mother, correct me if I'm wrong). I remember getting rides home with my boyfriend or co-workers at the time. The boyfriend ride home was always the best! But wait, okay...so #1Son isn't answering the cell so I just drive over there. The lights are still on, there's a truck in the parking lot and some guy walking out of the front doors. Well, me and my imagination, what the hell is going on? Are they being robbed? Were they having a party?

I pulled into the lot and out runs #1Son. I'm on the verge of freaking out, thinking all the worst a mother of a 15 1/2 year can think, when he says:

"Mom, I'm sorry. We were really busy tonight and we're going to be another half hour. (Insert co-workers name here) will give me a ride home. I know I should've phoned, but it was just so busy."

I must've been sitting there with my mouth open and an either an incredibly pissed off look on my face, or one of shock. Because he said again:

"I'm really, really sorry mom".

You have to understand, #1Son DOES NOT apologize of his own doing.

"Okay, so you'll be home in 1/2 an hour then?"

Now, here's the thing. Should I be pissed at him? Or should I just not bother and be happy that he's getting good grades in school, has a job, is somewhat responsible, is healthy and still alive?

I'm really torn with which emotion to feel on this one. And which speech to give him. You know I need to give a speech! I mean, he does take advantage of us a lot of the time. Did he take advantage of me last night? Or was he just being a typical teenager, with no concern whatsoever except for himself? Is this my control freak issue coming to the surface?

They failed the test...

So, check this out. We hung the feeder last weekend, and a darn good thing we did

She stayed there for probably a good 4 minutes, just drinking and drinking and drinking. Which makes me think that we are the first ones to hang the feeders.

Oh, and check this out too!

Last nights sky. Isn't that incredible? I mean, the compression of the picture doesn't really do it justice, but it was waaay coool!!

And, right now, that's all I got for ya. It's drab and dreary today, so perhaps a little basement cleaning and puppy bonding is in order for today.

Oh, and just so you know, I conducted a little test with Facebook. If you remember back to my previous post about huge amounts of junk mail coming into my personal email and I blamed Facebook just off the top of my head. It was the only thing that made sense. I have other email addresses that I use for things like newsletters and what not and never thought to use one of those. I mean, if I'm finding friends, I really thought it best to use the email address that I check all the time. The others, well, not so much. Well, turns out I was right. I changed the email address on Facebook and waited it out. In just over 2 weeks, I now have 374 pieces of email advertising just about everything under the sun in my Spam folder. Some of which have the same names as those that have been coming into my old email address! So, if any of you have a huge amount of crap coming in, blame Facebook.

I am.

New kind of therapy

You ever have one of those days when your about to pull into your driveway after a long day at work, never mind the whole week and it's absolutely beautiful outside and you can't understand why there is no one sitting on the deck or out in the yard? And then, in your head you're saying "put it in reverse, back up, go somewhere else, far far away" because you just know that inside that house is three members of the opposite sex who are probably really pissed off at each other for some reason or another and a couple of them are laying on the couch watching Malcolm in the Middle and the other one is holed up in the bedroom watching a hunting show? And that you also know that the house is probably a disaster, with dirty dishes covering all the counter space and the laundry is piled up next to the hamper and the floor needs to be swiffered and that the coffee table probably has some sort of mechanical thing that someone was "trying to fix" on it?

And you really dread walking through that front door because you just know that it'll probably only get worse once you get in the house because all three of them will bombard you with stories of who did what to who, all the while the others will be denying what everyone else is saying? And then the urge to open a bottle of grape will overcome any shred of common sense you currently have and you'll head for the cabinet and run for the corkscrew?

Yeah, me neither.

But hey, if you should, I've discovered a new therapy. And it doesn't involved illegal drugs or over consumption of the grape.

Photo Therapy.

Not only does it make you giggle, looking back on the life you used to have, but it also allows all the love that you know you have for your family to once again re-surface, overcoming the urge to run away from it all (which I'm sure is the urge one would have if one was feeling as described above ~ snicker snicker).

I was looking for puppy pictures this morning as I've already had a couple of calls, to which I owe my fellow Shepherd breeder "BIG TIME" as she puts it. And in doing so, came across a bunch of old photographs that I had scanned last year. The quality leaves a lot to be desired, maybe because they're compressed, I don't know...

So for your viewing enjoyment and proof that it does really help, here you go.

Look how cute they are in their homemade costumes.

I know, I'll hide in here!

First day of school, for both of them. You can't really see the grin on #2Son's face, nor that #1Son is pointing at him, all the while laughing his face off.

Kissing fish!

Looking at some of these pictures made me realize that no matter how hard it's getting with them growing up and turning into rotten little, well, never mind, I still love them with all my heart. Their presence in my life, while making my hair go grey and my frown lines get much deeper, means more to me than absolutley anything. And I wouldn't trade any part of my life with them. I know, I know, I'm getting sappy.

But really, try Photo Therapy. It does work. Look, I posted a blog, bragging about the love I have for my children.

Oh crap, they're awake. Here we go again....

Remember the pictures, remember the pictures!!!

Happy Saturday, now get out there and garden!

It's not all puppies around here

Okay, yeah, right now it is. But we do do other things while waiting for our girl who I swear was in labour since last Thursday.

Anyway, here's the pile of eight.

A little sea of blackness. Actually one of the interesting things about this delivery was that she had a bit of a harder time with it (or so I think; everyone else thinks I'm nuts). It took longer between pups and she seemed to be struggling a little bit.

But, okay, back to what else we do around here. We take pictures. Lots of pictures. Some pictures you'll never ever EVER!! get to see, but some I like to share. And its been awhile since I've shared, so here you go.

Goose on the pond. There was a pair nesting back there however we haven't seen any little gooses (also called goslings I suppose).

Birds at the feeder this morning. I missed the Blue Jay, but I'm sure it'll be back tomorrow.

Rhubarb on the 3rd

Rhubarb on the 10th

I'll get a shot of the rhubarb today, once all the batteries recharge!

I'm told this is coyote dung...just looks like poop to me.

It's wet in the back bush. Very wet. Rubber boots wet. And in some areas, hip wader wet. Yet everything else is dry.

Eight

That's what she had. Five males and three females.

And they are very noisy....and cute! She is tired, as are we. When we went to bed it was two and sometime between then and now, she had another one. All are healthy. And noisy!

Pictures to follow.

the hour is late

and we are tired. But the Girl Dog is probably a lot more tired. She's had six pups. And the thinking going on here is that there's at least one or two more, maybe three, left to come out of her.



More in the morning....

Okay, they're really there

So, she didn't really screw with the weekend. She was just kidding!

Here's a shot of the first born son.



And she has subsequently had a girl and then a boy. SG is currently doing the mid-wife detail. Me? I'm watching the CMA's....

Trick Trick

A message from Girl Dog.

I’m not really pregnant. It’s all been a hoax you see. Little did you know that I have secretly been sneaking food when you haven’t been looking and that is why I’m so fat.

Oh, and all that “puppy action” you say you’ve been seeing, well there is an explanation for that as well.

It’s called “food processing” (sorry, spell check couldn’t figure out what the hell it was I was trying to spell, so plain, descriptive English it is!). Yes, my intestines are working overtime. I must thank you for those biscuits that you bought at Costco. They are very delicious.

So, now that I have screwed your long weekend, I’ll be going on a diet and start to lose the weight that you thought was puppies.

Either that or deliver….one of the two.

But only when I damn well feel like it.

Love Girl Dog

Apparently Longer Than We Thought

Still no pups. I've got to hand it to her. Either she's a really good faker or the first couple of "meetings" didn't take. Talking with my friend who also breeds last night and she said not to get too concerned yet.

I'm now convinced that she has set out to make our long weekend one of "you're not going to get a damn thing done because I'm gonna keep you in this house for all three days and won't deliver until Monday at about 4!"

Oh, and this morning, I said three words that I've never ever said to #1Son before. And no, they weren't rude words as he once again left his underwear on the floor right next to the laundry hamper and piled his towel on the counter instead of hanging it up. He's working today and we were leaving the house.

"You wanna drive?"

Oh vey....

Just how long is this going to take?

WARNING: Post could be random and all over the place.

Yes, we're still awaiting the arrival of the pups. SG stayed home both Thursday and Friday as this girl dog of ours had been having contractions. I told him that Saturday was the day but he was convinced that it was going to be Thursday. And then he was convinced it was going to be Friday. I knew it was going to be Saturday because, well, I'm just that smart. Besides, we had plans to go to my brother's 40th birthday party. I can't believe that he's 40. But this isn't about my brother's birthday and turning 40. Even though it blows my mind to see those numbers written down...OMG, he's FORTY!!!! Now life starts to get really fun. Joints start to ache. The eyesight starts to deteriorate. The repercussions of over indulging in alcohol are worse. Feet start to smell. Hair loss begins. Greying of the hair that remains increases. Yes, this is where life gets funner! Just buggin' But seriously.

Back to the birth. We're both convinced it is going to be today. But today only has 5hours and 15 minutes left in it (at the time of typing, not posting, who knows how long I'm going to dribble on about whatever).

She has been having contractions all day. She's not eating. She's digging in the birthing box like it was a sandpit that contained a million dog biscuits. She's whining and crying. Her belly is tight. The pups are active like crazy, you can actually watch her belly move as they move. It's pretty cool.

I picked #1Son up today from his first day behind the wheel with the driving instructor and the fist thing he said when he saw her was "her body has changed shape, she's gonna have "poopies" today." Pretty observant for a 15 1/2 year old with serious driving attitude. More on that later. It's too bad he's going to miss this birth. He missed the last birth due to work as well. Mind you, I'm not sure if I could handle him being around for it. I can only imagine what would be coming out of his mouth!

However, that it is for now. I will keep posting as the night progresses. I've got a camera and I know how to use it!

Lucky for you eh?

Is it puppy time?

So, here I sit, on the eve of what could possibly be Puppy Delivery Day. Usual gestation is 63 days, but if I recall correctly, and keep in mind I may not be, our little girl went 65 days last time. But my memory isn’t what it used to be. Lord knows I’ve had a thing or two pointed out to me from my younger days that I don’t remember, but then again, those younger days were many, many, MANY years ago.

So the girl, as she sits here, in my office, in her nesting box, panting and panting and panting, may just go into labour tonight.

And I hope not. I have had an incredibly busy week and its only Wednesday for crying out loud. My paying job is still intense, but more on a brain level than a 10 hour day level. It’s the school stuff that might kill me this time.

Being Chair of the parent advisory council of #2Son’s school, while for the most part is simply a once a month thing, the odd phone call from concerned parents about something or another, you know, an easy gig. No pay, no recognition, just the satisfaction in knowing that you are helping mould a school into what you, as parents, want it to be, this month is a wee bit more intense. We need to re-write the by-laws as we are a new school and were operating under the by-laws from the old school. And well, those by-laws were written sometime in what sounds like the 70’s and we just need to revamp them. Which means intense scrutiny and re-writing. Which isn’t being done by me. What do I know about by-laws? I know I can’t throw my trash out on the road, there’s a by-law that will fine me fifty bucks. I know I can’t drain my septic tank into the ditch, there’s a by-law that will punish me. How it will punish, I’m not sure. Probably take my house That’s what I know about by-laws.

But it means that I have to review them. Which I’m in the process of doing. Which isn’t very entertaining reading. It’s so boring that I’m not even using my reading glasses. Just skimming it. I know, I know, not responsible at all. I’ll bring out the glasses this weekend and that, coupled with a glass or two of grape, I’ll get those by-laws reading just the way they should be!

And then last night’s PAC meeting went for 2 hours. TWO HOURS!!!!! I’ve never had a meeting go that long before. I tend to try and move things along, no pitter patter, we just get at ‘er! But in those two hours we had some really good discussions, came to some outstanding decisions, and to be quite honest, those two hours flew by. It was a smaller meeting, as it's soccer season and many of the parents were outside on the field watching their kids. I miss those days if I do say so. While last night was exceptional for soccer parents (it was warm), the majority of nights those cold prairie winds that blow and make your lips so cold that you can’t speak an audible sentence and your hands are stuffed so deep into your pockets that your shoulders cramp and your butt goes numb from, well being too fat for one thing, but also it’s turned into the wind to keep your lips from freezing right off.… yeah, those were the good old days. Whoops, off track…It just amazes me how much you can get accomplished with smart, intelligent people who want to bring stuff to the table and make things happen. No one stalling things by contributing what doesn’t need to be contributed. No one interrupting to take you off topic. It was a very good meeting.

And tonight I had a wine and cheese to attend. As PAC Chair, apparently I signed some document begging some foundation for some money for something. And they gave it to us! They must’ve liked the way my signature looked. Anywhooo…it was the presentation of the coin tonight and I attended with the Principal. Yes, same Principal I bumped into in the liquor store parking lot earlier this year. Now I was going to go drinking with him. My how times change when you grow up and become a parent eh? Just before they called out our school’s name, Mr. Principal said “Got your speech?” I must’ve sent him the death look because as he bounced back in his chair I said “Speech? NO….YOU’RE TALKING!!!” He laughed and said “OK, if you say so”. I did go up with him however to accept the envelope, I mean, after all, I put my signature on the paper to apply for the cash. I felt it was the right thing to do. There were photos taken and hopefully they don’t appear in our weekly paper. I am having a really bad hair day.

But where was I going with this…oh yeah puppies. I still say Saturday, but the signs are here that it may be sooner. Which would not be good. I’m tired. Oh, but wait….last time SG stayed up with her. I remember going to bed and there were five. When I got up in the morning I went and checked on her and went back into the bedroom and woke him up to find out how many she had when he came to bed. The answer was “At 2 a.m. there were seven.” To which I said, “Well, now at five a.m. there are nine.”

Ah yes, it could be a late night for SG. But then again, he got to take a nap after work. I didn’t. I had to go drinking with the school Principal.

Happy Mother's Day

To each and every one of you out there.

My agenda for today? Well, I have no agenda. I'm just going to take it as it comes.

Oh sure, I'd love to be up in bed, still sleeping, with dreams of fresh baked muffins and a luxurious cup of tea being served to me by my two loving children. And then be allowed to luxuriate in the warmth of the flannel sheets (yes, we're still using them, its freezing!) with the pillows piled up all around me while a delicious breakfast of fresh fruit and a couple different kinds of cheeses is prepared and served to me with freshly squeezed orange juice and a 12 grain toasted bagel with low fat cream cheese.

Arising to a sparkling clean house, where there is nothing left for me to do except enjoy the sunshine and the wonderful, loving smiles and hugs and kisses of my boys. Where all the dishes are cleaned and put away and the counters are all empty and spiffy and shiny. Where there isn't any laundry to be done, not even a stray sock. Where the whole place has been dusted and vacuumed and mopped. Where the bathroom is so clean, the sun's reflection off the fixtures is almost blinding. Where there is absolutely nothing to do but enjoy the day.

Ah yes, Happy Mothers Day.

I am PISSED OFF!!

But I don't know why. I went and had a nap today and woke up in the crappiest of moods. And I hate that. I mean, I had time to take a nap, which, if you translate it it, means that everything in my life that I need to have happen, happened. Naps mean that when you wake from the peaceful afternoon slumber that you are re-juvinated and re-refreshed and ready to face what is left of the day.

Not today.

Upon analysis, and a very in-depth analysis by the way, (we're talking a couple of glasses of wine to help clear the thought process), it turns out that it could very well be the fact that I cannot figure out the 'frickin clips that came with the lights that I bought and want to mount inside my umbrella that sits over the front deck table and blocks the blinding glare of the morning sun.

I know, I know...why the hell are you mounting lights on the umbrella when the sole purpose of the umbrella is to block the light?

Good question! Very good question.

Uhmmm, cause it's dark out at night?

And I need to make sure that the wine glass I'm picking up is actually mine?

And the light from the house is too bright?

And they were only two bucks at the dollar store?

And I thought they would look pretty?

And the neighbour down the road hasn't discovered these nifty little lights yet and, I mean, after all, last year we had our pool up before hers after she bought her's first (she was pissed I must say!!) and now the competition is on to see who can have the prettiest deck furniture (did I neglect to mention the fact that she bought the same stuff as us???)...

Bring on the Jones'... Wait. I moved to the country to avoid this.

SG is right now out there, trying to figure out how the lights should mount on the clips that were supplied.

Oh wait. He just yelled "where's the tape?".

Guess he couldn't figure it out either.

I'm going for a re-fill.

Sick Sick Sick

You know that transistion point where a head cold starts its descent down into your chest and for like 5 and 3/4 hours it feels like your throat has 326,384 little needles in it and everytime you swallow you think you'd rather be giving birth because at least you know the end is only a couple more pushes away and in all honesty it really isn't quite as painful as breathing at this particular moment in time?

Yeah, that's what I was doing from 10:05 to 3:47 am....

Spring cold...fun stuff.

Snow. Really?? It's May 4th for crying out loud!

Rumour had it that it was going to 19 degrees today. Which worked for me, seeing as I had to spend the day yesterday moving my office over to the new location. The moving actually started on Friday whereby we sort of shut it down at three, packed ‘er up and then headed to the new place. Yesterday we were setting things up and getting ready to resume normal operations first thing Monday morning. While it was a nice day, I had today to look forward to. The move went well if I do say. Other than some damage to some of the furniture, all in all, we got it done.

But back to the weather. They had predicted a high of 19 degrees Celsius today. Sorry, all you U.S. readers will have to do the conversion. I’m far too depressed and have actually been enjoying the grape, and well, quite frankly, don’t want to Google the conversion to Fahrenheit…you really should get on board here! So you’re on your own this time around.

I turned on the radio when I got up to hear that we had a 60% chance of snow and the high was going to be 6 degrees. Uhmm….where exactly did Environment Canada fall of the bus with this? Just yesterday they were predicting a high of 19.

While I had a disaster to clean up (hey, I was gone for a day!) and mountains of laundry to do (that’s okay, I do laundry) SG was out spreading grass seed this morning. We have a couple of dead spots that needed some attention. Well, more than a couple. We apparently need some mud as well. More on that later...

And then it started to snow.

And snow to the point where it was accumulating.

Mother Nature, it’s May. It’s time to stop this crap and bring on the good stuff.

We need to set up the pool.

Fifty Bucks well spent!

Well, apparently I’m going about this “teaching your kid to drive” thing all wrong.

And given the trauma that I was going through (still am I might add) after our little jaunt on Friday night, and me making the decision to let someone else teach him how to drive and feeling like a failed parent, I decided to read the literature that we were given at the first meeting with these daredevils, I mean “We’ve Got Nerves Of Steel” people who would be teaching my child to drive and the people that would get in the car with him and show him the ropes on the roadways.

Turns out that the first thing I should’ve done with #1Son and the journey into driving was to go to a parking lot. Yes, a parking lot. Where we would do the following:

Cockpit Drill
Okay, a little help on this if you will. What is a “cockpit drill”? They don’t tell you. They just write the words down as the first thing to do in a parking lot.

Starting and Stopping Smoothly
I’m assuming that this is finding out if your child has enough muscle control in their right foot to not give you whiplash.

Backing Straight, Right and Left
I suppose you should only proceed to this step if you don’t have whiplash. Keep in mind however, you may end up with a visit to the chiropractor to realign your spine should he do not so good on the smooth start and stop and you decide to proceed anyway. They give you these practice suggestions in order for a reason!

Hand over Hand Steering
I can see this could be problematic. #1Son is 6’ 5”. He’s driving The Cav. There just isn’t enough room “in the cockpit” for him to try “hand over hand” steering. Besides, he says he needs to have his left arm resting on the door. He just can’t drive with two hands. And driving with two hands isn’t cool…two fingers perched on the bottom of the steering wheel? Yes, Two hands in the 9 and 3 position? No.

Should Checks, Blind Spots and Signaling
You mean I should let him take his eyes off the road (or parking lot in this case) and actually shoulder check? We’re in a parking lot! An empty one at that! How many people could possibly be driving beside us that he’d need to shoulder check?

I say, let the professionals do this. Let them refine him into as good a driver as he can be at 15 ½. Let them, in their steel armoured cars, take him out to the parking lot. They have dual gas and brakes. They have a steering wheel and mirror. They have nerves of steel and do this for a living.

Yeah, I’m failing at this part of parenting. But I also knew I would. That’s why I paid for the course.

And I now see why I would've paid double!

Two bridges and a raging river...NOT!

So, I let #1Son drive the car tonight.

SG drove him to the local “sure, you passed a written test, you seem mature enough, you certainly look old enough, I’ll give you a license to drive a car” insurance place and paid for his learner’s permit. (Well, we paid… apparently he had reached his daily point of sale limit on his bank card by buying “lunch for the guys and getting new brake pads” for the motorcycle.)

And while I know I said I WAS NOT going to let him drive The Cav until he had at least four, preferably ALL eight, “behind the wheel” sessions with the Driver Ed teacher, I buckled. You know, got all “well, he did pass with only two wrong and he does know how to drive a motorcycle, and really, why not?”

This was not necessarily the right decision to make.

He actually wanted to drive from the gas station to where I was dropping him off, but there was no way in hell I was going to let that happen! Drive over two bridges? I think not! Just wasn’t going to happen. "But Mom!!! if I drive from where you're going to let me drive from, it'll only be like 2 blocks." was the response to my resounding "NO!!!" I had visions of guard rails snapping and The Cav plunging to an icy cold death (not to mention us) in a river that has a current I wouldn’t even want to toss a fishing line into for fear of being hauled in by a trophy catfish and never seeing the light of day again! And worse than that, no one would know I caught a trophy catfish!!

And such a good decision on my behalf, if I do say so myself.

After I crossed both bridges, I somewhat reluctantly, yet still somewhat excited, handed over the seat and wheel to my first born. And off we went. With my kid driving the car. Imagine my trepidation. Which, by the way, turned into absolute fear as we approached oncoming cars. Four of them in fact. At which time #1Son nearly put us into the ditch. Which, while not as deep as the river, nor as forceful, just as frickin’ cold!!

The air was blue as I tried to explain that he really needed to get back on the road and off the shoulder. Actually, the air was kind of panic-y too. Okay, okay, I was frightened. Very frightened. And swearing. Lots.

It was as he was pulling into his buddy's driveway (and nearly falling off that as well) that the decision was made.

I’m calling the Driver Ed instructor and advising her that if she doesn’t feel one hundred percent comfortable and absolutely impressed and stunned by #1Son’s driving ability after the 16 hours in the car with him (8 behind the wheel, 8 watching), she needs to tell me. In brutally honest fashion.

Because this is what I dealt with tonight: "Do you have any idea how hard it is to watch your speedometer AND the road at the same time?"

And I’m also preparing #1Son to the real life fact that if the Driver Ed instructor isn’t as impressed as she needs to be in order for him to drive my car, well, he better start saving. Either for a bus pass or a car.

His choice.

I’m not sure I’ll survive this.