I realize that it's past midnight, which means it's officially Friday. However, in my world, the Baby just went down to sleep (very easily, I might add) and I am still up which means that for me, it is still Thursday. Therefore, I'm entitled to post a Thursday Thirteen.
My kid is like my dog. No joke. They are pretty much at the same level right now. Take a look:
1. They get around on all fours
2. They like the same kind of food. Isaiah grabs dog food whenever he gets the chance and Bentley hangs out under the high chair at people feeding times.
3. Both are afraid of the vacuum
4. Their excrement ends up in plastic bags
5. They complain to high heaven when they need a nail trim
6. They would like to enjoy the same toys. Ew.
7. Both think they deserve a spot on my bed. Neither of them gets it.
8. They must have me in their line of vision at all times
9. They attract attention from strangers. Male teens like the dog. Old ladies like the baby.
10. They make sure that I get enough exercise on gym-free days
11. Drool
12. They like chasing cats
13. They understand approximately the same number of words
Friday, February 20, 2009
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
What Warms a House Better than Coffee?
I loved my old coffee maker. I really did. I liked it's shiny stainless steel exterior. I liked that it was programmable - it could make coffee before I was even out of bed. It's a great idea, but I never once used it. Whoops. I liked being able to set the temperature of the carafe to low, medium, or high. I love the smell, the taste, the social sharing of the drink.
Honest, I was sad when it died. One day it's little heart just couldn't pump the water from the basin, through the coffee grounds, and into the pot. It gurgled and steamed but no life saving brown stream emerged.
But then I got a housewarming gift. My Mama, she likes coffee too. For years she has proclaimed the wonders of the Bunn coffee maker. I admit, I was jealous sometimes. Coffee reminds me of my Mum. They go hand in hand. A visit just isn't complete without some java. Realizing the loss I was grieving and searching for an idea for a houswarming gift, she went the very next day and purchased me the John Deere of coffee makers. It even said "Nothing Brews Like a Bunn" on the box.
You're coming over for coffee, you say? Give me three minutes. The coffee will be hot and ready.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Garbage
You know you live in the country when...
you call to find out if/when you have garbage pick up and are told the following:
"It's $12/month and you need to pre-pay either 6 or 12 months. Tape the cheque to one of the garbage bags on pick up day."
Tell THAT to a fraud specialist!
you call to find out if/when you have garbage pick up and are told the following:
"It's $12/month and you need to pre-pay either 6 or 12 months. Tape the cheque to one of the garbage bags on pick up day."
Tell THAT to a fraud specialist!
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Wind
Yesterday we experienced the second strongest wind in our recorded history. Windows popped out of tall buildings in the downtown of the city, shutting down a major thoroughfare. I took the dog for a walk and leaned into the wind as it tried to push me backwards.
The Husband and I looked out of our bedroom window on the second floor. "Gee. I hope we don't start losing shingles or anything like that," I said. That did it. The Husband couldn't relax. He paced, listened, looked. Soon enough we heard banging. The dog was instantly on guard and went to check the door. It was, however, coming from the roof. We gazed out of our window, watching stuff fly by and feeling vulnerable.
Amidst the paraphernalia tumbling down our street and blowing across the fields the Husband recognized something. "Uh, those are our shingles."
Now we live in the new house in the new development with bald spots on it. We should be easy to recognize.
The Husband and I looked out of our bedroom window on the second floor. "Gee. I hope we don't start losing shingles or anything like that," I said. That did it. The Husband couldn't relax. He paced, listened, looked. Soon enough we heard banging. The dog was instantly on guard and went to check the door. It was, however, coming from the roof. We gazed out of our window, watching stuff fly by and feeling vulnerable.
Amidst the paraphernalia tumbling down our street and blowing across the fields the Husband recognized something. "Uh, those are our shingles."
Now we live in the new house in the new development with bald spots on it. We should be easy to recognize.
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