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Showing posts from July, 2010

Busy, Busy!

Wow--it's been 10 days since my last post! Things get a little nutty around here at this time of year. The garden is starting to produce all kinds of cool things, and the bounty is coming in fast and furious. Before you know it, I'll be thrilling you with pictures of cucumbers and begging for all your best ideas for using up the last of our frozen tomatoes so I can make room for the new batch.
Speaking of pictures, last August, I took a self-portrait a day for the entire month. The results were really interesting. Well, at least to me. I get a little mid-life-crisis-y at this time of year. My birthday and wedding anniversary fall within a couple of weeks of each other and all those large numbers make me self-reflective. So I think another photo project might be in order. Of course, between Rosemary's Baby's daily therapy, the garden, the demolition project that is my house, Firstborn being on summer vacation, cats and dogs that are still a little leery of each other, an…

200!

It's my 200th post! And appropriately enough, this one will be about...absolutely nothing!
I'm pleased to announce that the cat is still alive. Mostly because we put a baby gate over the laundry room and when we want to have a dog/cat get-together, we make them sniff each other through the gate. The snapping is decreasing gradually, but it's clear that both dogs are still a little stressed about the whole situation, so we're taking things slowly. I am, however, secretly hoping that by October, I'll be able to dress all the animals up like little Victorian carolers and have one of those creepy pet portraits done for the Christmas cards.
In other news...SUCCESS! Rosemary's Baby has, for some time now, been on a gluten-free, dairy-free (flavour-free, convenience free...) diet. It's a horrible pain in the butt, but it has improved his behaviour so dramatically, that I could never go back to filling him full of processed chicken nuggets and cheeseburgers. Once I g…

If Only the SPCA Had Wookiees

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If I hear the Star Wars theme one more time, I'm going over to the dark side.
Firstborn has had a fascination with all things Star Wars for some time now. Star Wars Lego sets, Lego Star Wars video games, movies, music. You name it, if it pertains to intergalactic battle with a lightsaber, he's a big fan.
And speaking of intergalactic battle, I've been having some trouble with an alien species myself. Last fall, it became horrifyingly clear that we had something in our garage and workshop. It started by chewing through the hard plastic garbage cans and spreading the trash absolutely everywhere, so I set out a humane trap. Before I knew it, I'd caught close to a dozen rats, which come in from the fields when the hay bales are out. According to my neighbour, if you have one, there are probably 50 or 60 running around nearby. The whole thing makes me want to run screaming back to the big city, where you do still get an occasional rodent, but that's what exterminators are…

Frazzled Friday

I know it's super-lame to just link to someone else's post as my post for the day (or as it's been lately, week!), but I've been meaning to pass this message along for days.
If you have, or know, a special needs child, Melanie Jane has a unique perspective on this issue, and her advice is good. So check out her post on this topic here.
And now, I'm going to go spend the rest of my Friday with my rapidly-greying hair flying out in all directions and running around like a chicken with its head cut off. AKA, business as usual.

Die, Swimwear, Die!

You know what I hate about this time of year? Every single magazine and catalogue devotes at least 30% of its pages to bathing suits. Stupid, stupid bathing suits.
Firstly, swimwear requires about a half a yard of fabric. So, we're being charged upwards of $100 (and sometimes more, depending on where you shop) for $5 worth of fabric and an hour (at the most) of cutting and sewing. This is even more infuriating to me than the current trend of women being charged full-price for ripped jeans. And you know how I feel about that, so no rant required.
Secondly, my body could be worse, but it could also be better, so just the idea of bikini-waxing myself and then exposing my pale, pasty, English skin, all stretch-marked and flabby, makes me want to rip my own head off and run around the beach shaking it at the buff and the beautiful.
I bought my most recent bathing suit 6 years ago in a fall sale for something like $20. It's the most unflattering thing you've ever seen--boy shorts a…

Loot!

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It's been a lucrative couple of weeks for me! First, I had my trip home and thrifted 'til could thrift no more. Here's what I snagged from Value Village:
I didn't realize until I got it home that this vest is reversible. I still prefer it red-side-out, but it's good to have options. It is the softest thing I own, and a steal at $4!

I must've been vest-crazy that day because I found this cute little denim number too. By the way, I'm not auditioning for a stage production of the Outsiders. I just chose to photograph myself in these items on the hottest day of the year, hence the rebellious tank-top/vest combo.

This Old Navy cardigan was a pasty pale pink when I bought it. One box of red dye later, I have a sweater I can live with!

Long cardigans often look a little like a bathrobe on me, but this one doesn't have a belt or buttons, so if I remember not to have the posture of a 90 year-old woman, I think it'll be okay.

And finally, one more cardigan in ano…