Wednesday, August 24, 2011

My Funeral, and Other F-Words

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.

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 think of no better way to leave this earthly existence than in a cloud of barbecue smoke. Steaks, pork chops, chicken, burgers. I truly don't care. Just slather it with sauce, make an otherwordly mess, and pray for my sake that the afterlife has a Bradley Smoker.

Classical music? Hymns? That morbid song I keep hearing on the radio? Absolutely not! At my funeral, I want a karaoke machine. And if no one performs Devo's "Whip It" as the guests file out, expect the walls to be bleeding when you get home.

Solemn black has its place, but not when I go to meet my maker. I feel strongly that here in North America, we simply do not get enough use out of our Halloween costumes. And for me, it just wouldn't be a funeral without Harry Potter, the pink Power Ranger, Batman and a life-sized M&M as pallbearers. Besides, nothing screams respect like a eulogy delivered by Big Bird.

If this seems like a lot to organize, I will completely understand if my family opts for Plan A. As the morbid song goes, toss me in the river and send me away with the words of a love song.

Just make sure it's this one:

Monday, August 15, 2011

On This Date In History

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!

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

How Big Are YOUR Rocks?

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 night, they came over with the tractor and dumped down a huge pile of sand and two enormous rocks. Needless to say, my children are ecstatic.

I wanted to include a few photos of them both playing, but Rosemary's Baby took one look at his new sand box, ripped off all his clothes and went diving at it. When he learns to keep his clothes on, I'll get some internet-appropriate shots.

This has seriously saved me something like $800 on a new play structure, and brings the number of favours I owe next door to approximately one billion.