FMS

I was planning to share the exciting news that I've finally booked our tickets to Paris, but the process pushed me to reveal to you that I have a behavioural disorder called FMS. My friend, Alison discussed her symptoms with me a few years ago, and I was able to self-diagnose.

FMS (the Fear of Missing Something) manifests itself in many ways, including:

1. an inability to put down a book once you've started it
2. a compulsion to read through the entire menu despite having seen your favourite dish on the first page
3. an inability to leave any social situation, even a deadly-boring party, because you think that the moment you leave: (a) Johnny Depp will arrive, (b) people will start dancing, (c) the host will break out their karaoke machine
4. a compulsion to check every store in the mall even though you've found something you like in the first store because you might find something: (a) cheaper, (b) that will go with everything you already own or (c) that will make you look thinner.
5. an inability to book an airline ticket a month in advance because you're sure a seat sale will be announced the day after you book

So here we are, flights booked 8 days before we depart for Paris. It's a good thing Steve's brother, David, lives there or I'd now have to spend a week not booking accommodation.

And unless I have a strong need to procrastinate, this will be my last post until we return since I've now got to spend the next week shopping, grooming and packing.

29 in Imperial years

Happy birthday to me! Okay, so it was September 8, but this is pretty close. And since I get to celebrate 'birth week' every year, and 'birth month' on the big years, this is still technically birth week.

We went out for sushi, sushi, sushi and a movie on the 8th, and on Saturday we had dinner at my sister, Robin's. Fun times had by all.

And in honour of Steve's 40th (in July), our 20th anniversary, and my birthday, we're going to Paris. As in France. Next week.

I guess I should book tickets.

Guess what?

Guess what happened 20 years ago today?

Here's a hint.





















And there's more to the romantic tale.

Our first date: Grad '83














And they called it preppie love.

Weekend to End Breast Cancer

Sixty kilometres, 2,100 walkers, $5.5 million.

That’s how I spent my weekend -- The Weekend to End Breast Cancer. And I’m sorry if this seems long, but I couldn’t boil the whole event into a smaller package.

Going into the weekend, I thought the main point and the hardest part was the fundraising. But my experience this weekend, and my sore feet today, are telling me something different.

Walking so far, with so many other women (and a few men) was . . .

I’ve sat for five minutes trying to think of the right word, knowing it sounds artificial and cheesy to say it was ‘amazing’ or ‘inspiring.’

It was hard. It was hard to get up off the grass at kilometre 30, knowing there were five more kilometres to walk. It was hard to get out of bed at 5:30 Sunday morning to walk another 25 km.

It was hard to watch a teenage girl stop walking at kilometre 55, step off the sidewalk and collapse onto the grass, crying and shaking her head.

But it was a relief to see a volunteer crew member pull up almost immediately to offer a ride in his motorcycle sidecar if she decided she couldn’t get up again.

It was fun to hoot and laugh with the volunteers who stood at the roadside dancing in elaborate costumes, ‘high-fiveing’ every walker who went past. And it was nice to accept a cold drink or a candy from residents standing along the route, cheering us on.

And it was funny to notice that most walkers spent a lot of extra time at the refreshment station run by 20+ male firefighters.

And honestly, it was painful to walk the last five km with muscle cramps and wickedly sore feet.

So my team members and I made the only sensible decision we could. We signed up for next year's walk.

You might think the aching muscles and sore feet would make me determined not to walk again. But they’ve just made me determined to train a little harder, stretch a little longer, weigh a little less, and try a different running shoe.

And I feel a little self-conscious saying this, and I know it sounds totally cheesy, but even if it dooms me to a career writing for ‘Chicken Soup for the Walking Soul,’ I really do mean it.

If my feeling a little pain means raising more money for better diagnostics and treatment, and that means someone fighting breast cancer experiences a little less pain, then okay. I can do that.


So this is a huge ‘thank you’ to those who donated to the cause, who supported me and our team while we were fundraising and training, and when we were walking this weekend. And this is a reminder to those who haven’t yet donated to click this link.

And this is invitation to you to walk with us next year. We start training in September.

Pictures to follow.

Station identification

I have no energy or wit for a perky post about what's going on in my life these days. Consider this the coloured bars that fill the screen after a station goes off the air for the day.

I'll see you when I've been re-energized.

Back Home Again

We've actually been home for a week, but I have been -- I was going to say 'fighting a cold', but the reality is I just lay down and let it do its thing. Go, germs, go. I found lying on the couch, unwashed, to be the order of the week.

But it's off to the paying job tomorrow, so I'll have to shower before noon in that new reality. I need a word to convey my lack of enthusiasm tempered with resignation. How about 'shrug'.

I think we needed to schedule a week of holidays to recuperate from the vacation. In 13 days, we drove about 5000 km, I got two good nights' sleep and read NONE of the five books I took with me. We hit Williams Lake, Prince George, Edmonton, Valemount & Robson Meadows campground. We saw four parents, three brothers, one sister, two cousins, and four nieces & nephews. We took one niece and one nephew camping and embarked on a 14 km, three-generation hike. (Steve carried children for about 5 km.)

I think I'm fully justified in getting totally sick and doing little more than reclining. I did make the time to finish Pride and Prejudice. Though I'm not sure that counts as productivity since I've read it before.

Tom's boiling the kettle for a cuppa, so I'm off to find a strategic position to engage in full sloth, and be able to balance a hot cup. Wish me luck.

Deadline driven

I was going to start with "I love deadlines." But that's not strictly true. I love completing tasks and being able to tick them off my 'to do' list, and that seems only to happen when I have a deadline.

My current deadline is this Friday when we start our holidays.

(For all you criminals scouring the internet for such mentions, I'll warn you now that we own an old TV, no stereo, a somewhat aged computer, and our music collection consists largely of cassettes we bought in the 90s and titles such as "Wee Sing and Play". Oh, and our nephew will be moving in while we're gone, not to mention that our tenant is hyper-vigilant.)

So before we go, we have to clear up the chaos under which our yard is obscured (this involved an extensive sub-list), get the many, many plants I wintersowed into the ground (except for those I've promised to others), and complete three writing jobs.

Plus, I've decided to sleep a little (this to be started once this post is complete).

We (mostly Steve) worked like dogs Saturday and Sunday, and got the yard closer to a zen-like state: plants planted, delivered to Brenda, or arranged for easy watering; got 6 kids to Sunday School; went out for a Father's Day lunch, and I completed one of the writing projects. Oh! And I walked 10K with my Weekend to End Breast Cancer Team.

So now all that's left to do is write a fact sheet about drinking water and a press release, get all the laundry done so we have clothes to pack, have the house nice and clean for nephew Tom (use new vacuum!!), lace up for a couple of 6K walks, do a volunteer shift at the thrift store, and ultimately address my obsession with parentheses.

Fundraiser success

You know that I usually really enjoy hosting a garage sale. And now I know that adding a plant sale to the work of a garage sale just makes it too much stress and work at once. But the positive side is that we raised about $1,000, and netted about $800 after paying for the hall, supplies, etc.

We had tons of much-appreciated help in Aaron, Debra, James, Jeremy, Joshua, Linda, Wendell, Abby, Ed, Zion, Brenda, Bev, Henry, Melanie, Keziah and Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve (since he did the work of 10 in picking up truckloads of donations, organizing our garage so they'd fit, transporting plants & boxes to the sale, working the sale, then transporting truckloads of leftovers to the Burnaby Hospice Society Thrift Store, then driving across town to return the borrowed truck).

I'm too tired to be clever and witty. And I really am supposed to be working.

Deja back pain

The eloquence of Devo.

"I am so tired. How long can this go on?"

My house is a frightening mess because instead of vacuuming and doing dishes, I've been out preparing for the plant sale. Today, Robin and I divided a gazillion iris rhizomes and potted up half-a-gajillion Chameleon plants. (It changes colour depending on how much sunlight it gets.)

Instead of doing laundry (which is now more difficult because the dryer isn't working), I'm potting up Asters and Chamomile.

And instead of cleaning the bathroom, I'm tidying up all the pots, bags of soil, and trays of plants, (not to mention dropping a table on my toe) so my backyard doesn't look incredibly chaotic, just cluttered.

And all that adds up to another marathon session, and renewed back pain. I'm out of my mind.

But it'll all be over (at least for this year) after next Saturday, June 10, with our Fabulous Fundraising Flea Market. Come one, come all.

Pincushion

Did you know that if you spend 10+ hours in the garden without a break, you risk painful reminders of exactly where your iliocostalis, rhomboid & trapezius muscles are located?

The physiotherapist suggested that pacing myself would be a better strategy; the massage therapist offered the advice that a bit of stretching might have been helpful; and today, the doctor who was carefully poking me full of accupuncture needles just shook his head.

I hadn't tried accupuncture before today. It was a bit odd taking a cross-eyed look at the needle protruding from my face, but my favourite part was watching Dr. Frame untangle what looked like tiny jumper cables, which he then hooked up to the needles on my back. I must have left my lights on.

Hmm. I just realized there's no conclusion to this story.

P.S. I walked 6 km last Thursday & 15 km on Saturday, with no negative affect on my knees or leg muscles. Phew.

Feeling festive

CBC rocks. Rocks, rocks, rocks.

On Friday, I was listening as I worked, and CBC was talking about all the festivals, markets and fun events being held this long weekend. Then they said, "And the next four listeners to email..."

So I clicked over to my email...

"...on the coast at CBC.ca..."

I typed that in.

"...with 'Children's Festival' in the re: line..."

I take direction well, so did as instructed.

"...will win four tickets to the Children's Festival."

I hit send.

Ten minutes later, CBC called. Noah, Steve and I* rocked out the evening with Fred Penner, Robert Munsch, 'Sharon, keep ya hair on', 'Everybody's in the band' & Ranganiketan.

As if there weren't enough good reasons to listen to CBC.

*We tried to bring Shonna, but she was out running errands. Seems to me an obvious message from the cell phone gods.


P.S. Steve's putting Noah down for his nap right now, and I just went in to give him a "nap-nap" kiss. I was making silly sounds in Noah's ear and he seemed to be ignoring me. Then he turns to Steve and says, "Daddy, I think I hear a pig."

Garage sales and other adventures

Oh, oh, oh. What a good week it's been. Later this week, I'll update you on the other good stuff, but today it's 'stop the presses' for a garage sale bulletin.

On Saturday, all other priorities were set firmly aside so I could attend the Queens Park neighbourhood garage sale. This is the second year I've spent the morning wandering the lovely streets of New Westminster's nicest neighbourhood, browsing through some of the 90+ sales.

It's such a great community event, wandering around, chatting people up, buying lemonade and cookies from budding entrepreneurs and, of course, finding all sorts of great deals.

My sister-in-law, Tarra, and I towed Noah's wagon for a couple of hours, then Steve joined us and emptied the wagon's contents into the car. Steve made repeated excursions back to the car to store too-large items, thus reinforcing his princeliness.

And thanks to my brother, Bruce, bringing his lovely digital camera (and of course, his wife Tarra, my shopping companion) I have photographic evidence of most of my buys. Technical difficulties will prevent your seeing the round wrought-iron-framed mirror that will hang in my entry way, my forgetfulness the lovely flowering shrub, and the fact that I gave them away before I took photos, the chili-patterned mugs I got for Robin.

Here are a few of the more photogenic purchases.



Heart-shaped candy dish - 50 cents













Magician's jacket and velvet cape - $2
(Cute little boy not purchased at garage sale. Cost me two years of sanity and $55K/year, but recently appraised as well worth the price.)















Three videos and four CDs - $10














Soft, pink poncho for my niece - 50 cents

































Three stainless bowls, in which to display pre-chopped ingredients, ready to be added to recipes - 50 cents

Two chrome Umbra towel rails (desperately needed for my bathroom) - $8

Spending the day bargain hunting with two of my favourite people - priceless.

Mangolicious

The other evening Steve and I had a long-overdue visit with friends from my ex-work.

TO DO: clean house, decide what to serve. Hmmm.

The six-pack of mangoes I'd whimfully purchased at Costco the week before were "aheming;" a gentle reminder not to let them rot in their groovy podlike container. So I Googled (yes, it's a verb) "mango appetizers," et voila! A luscious selection of mango-based recipes for our gastronomic pleasure.

I didn't even waffle very long; three recipes chosen, I shopped for additional ingredients and whipped up three appetizers in under an hour. They were very easy to make, looked very luxe, and were mangolicious.

MENU (I think I improved on the recipe names)

Mango salsa and chips
Shrimp & mango bowl
Brie with zippy mango
&
Mango margaritas

If you're very nice to me, I'll make some when you next visit.

Woof!

I would've posted something earlier this week, but my arms were sore after working like a dog for 10 hours, cleaning and painting my sister, Brenda's rental suite.

How can people leave a suite without vacuuming or cleaning the toilet? The tenants were indignant that B wouldn't give them their damage deposit on the spot. "We've left places way dirtier than this!" was their best defense. We took photos of giant cat-hair bunnies (apparently "no pets" meant little to them), smoke stains (interesting interpretation of "no smoking"), stove-top crud hidden under foil covers and a large hole in the gyproc. I'd post them, but besides being across town, the pictures are disturbing and this is a 'G'-rated site.

So after scrubbing, painting and dragging a steam cleaner around the suite, I was too tired to type.

But by today, I was rested up. So we spent the day in the garden, moving plants around, and moving all my seedlings onto the walkway so we could mulch all the beds with compost. Before he left, Steve was trying to decide whether to buy a half- or full yard of compost, and his indecision resulted in him buying 2 yards. (Buy bulk and save -- he couldn't resist a second yard for a mere $10 more.)

So our neighbours benefited with the addition of some organics to their garden beds. And Sunday is the New West plant sale, so I'll be able to fill all the gaps in the garden with lovely, cheap plants. W-hoo.

I'm going to borrow a camera so you can see pics of my garden. I promise.

Must sleep now. Be good.

Not blogworthy

Why is it that I'm so busy, yet having nothing to blog about?

I signed up to volunteer at the Burnaby Hospice Society's thrift shop. I'm awaiting their call to duty.

I've joined the New Westminster Horticultural Society and have been helping prepare for their annual plant sale, making identification tags to stick in the plants. My wrist hurts.

I've been planting pretty flowers in pots. My nails are dirty.

Today we painted my niece, Kaitlin's, bedroom. My hair has pink streaks.

I'm going to a birthday party tonight. I must go cook.

It's hip to be four

I understand in theory that Noah has influences other than Steve and I, particularly since he goes to daycare two days a week. But when I see little manifestations of those influences I'm still amazed and often, amused. Here's today's gem.

Noah: "What are you doing, Mama?"
Me: "I'm opening my door so I can see if I'm inside the parking spot."
Noah (as I maneuver): "Okay Mama. . . . Yup. . . . That's good."
As I stop the car, Noah puts his hand in the air, palm towards me: "Yay, Mama! You DID it. High five."

Now!

Burnaby Now, that is. Saturday's paper and the online edition did a feature story and photo on our Weekend to End Breast Cancer team, Sisters for Sisters.

I'll leave you to read the story.

Instant gratification

I sowed over 200 Zinnia seeds last Thursday, and as of Tuesday, the first tiny, green sprouts are poking their heads out of the soil.

H'ray.

Sowing about 200 Cosmos today. Wait for news.

Last frost date

Did you know that my area's last-frost date is March 31? Isn't that amazing? What it means, essentially, is that I'm totally behind in sowing seeds. The sweet peas I sowed in February are four inches tall and doing beautifully, and the carnations are tall (but too spindly).

I just sowed zinnias today, and there were so many seeds. Someone remind me never to buy a 'Jumbo' pack of seeds again. I sowed 300 seeds, then invited the neighbour kids to sow a fibre-pack of 8 seeds each (40 more seeds) and still have another 20 or more seeds left.

I haven't blogged for two weeks because I felt like I had nothing to report. But I did get a few good scores at IKEA as-is, and at the Burnaby Hospice Society Thrift Store, including two IKEA vases (those from the thrift store) and waterproof pants to garden in (Lower Mainland gardeners don't have the option of just waiting until the rain stops if they want to get anything done in the spring).

Then there's our beautiful entry way. Our neighbour is a tile guy (sorry for the technical terminology), and found us a super deal on slate tiles last fall. Then this last week he installed them for us in our entry way (to cover the decaying and tacky parquet floor) and outside the front door (to cover the grey concrete slab). They're gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

And if you're thinking, "We need a picture," you're just going to have to drop over and take a pic so I can post it. A digital camera is not in my immediate future. Hmmm, unless I use points....

So if you have a spare half-day, feel free to drop by to see the new tiles and plant some seeds. The materials are around back.

So I married an alien

Over the last 20 years or so, I have occasionally had the feeling that Steve was from another planet. Not Mars or Venus or any of that rubbish, but I've had this inkling that there was something about him that was absolutely foreign.

And this morning my suspicions were confirmed.

Steve and I had an extremely late night, preparing for a fundraiser for the Weekend to End Breast Cancer, and when Noah sailed into our room this morning with a chipper, "Good morning!" I was unable to move or form a coherent response.

Steve, on the other hand, rolled out of bed to hug Noah and wish him an equally good morning. He then went to the kitchen to get Noah's breakfast, and I could hear him singing, "Good morning, good morning from the sun. Good morning, good morning everyone!"

Steve returned to our room, still singing, kissed me, and asked if I'd like toast or cereal.

I rest my case.

I wonder if there's a support group.