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Showing posts from August, 2011

My Funeral, and Other F-Words

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Between this morbid song playing every single morning on the radio and then running through my head all day long, and my recent birthday (which was AWESOME!), I'm forced to face my own mortality.

I've told the Captain many times that when I pop my cogs, there is to be no funeral, and that I'm to be disposed of in the cheapest way possible. But since stuffing me in a garbage bag and tossing me in the river (to loosely paraphrase the above mentioned song) could potentially get my family a hefty fine, and funerals are not so much for the dead as for the left-behind, I've decided I'm going to give them all an alternative option. I'm nothing if not flexible.

Food:
As I will likely have spent all my money at Old Navy, leaving nothing in the way of a will, the least I can do is insist that my kids have a bang-up send-off party for me. And the way we party in our family revolves entirely around the food. My favourite food (indeed, my favourite smell) is barbecue. I can …

On This Date In History

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People born on August 15th:

Napoleon (had a bit of a complex)

Princess Anne (horsey, but her dogs are as badly behaved as mine, so she wins points for that)

Julia Child (my favourite!!)

ME! (my second favourite)
I'm taking off this morning to run a couple of errands and have a little 38th birthday fun, me-style (ie. rummaging through other people's junk at the thrift store). It's my gift to myself.

Have a great day. I know I will!

How Big Are YOUR Rocks?

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As the old adage goes, when the cat marks its territory in your combat helmet, throw it in a sink full of vinegar (the helmet, not the cat), and cross your fingers.

Wait, that's not a real adage?! Well it is now. As of today. At our house. If the smell doesn't come out, the Captain is just going to have to tell the Quartermaster he needs a new helmet because the old one has a bullet hole in it. Let's hope the Quartermaster doesn't call his bluff.

Here's something the animals have not yet ruined:



My kids had such a great time climbing on the fiberglass rocks at the zoo last month that I got it into my head that maybe I could buy a really big rock for the backyard. When I mentioned this plan to my fabulous neighbours, they laughed at me (I get laughed at out here a lot) and promptly drove me out to their pasture (closest I've ever been to a  huge herd of cows). It turns out the pasture is covered with huge rocks, and they told me to take my pick. Who knew?! Last …