Home on the Range

Home again, home again, jiggedy jig! Yes, I am, and stay tuned for a new post, friends, 'cause Fee left a lasting impression in the Victoria airport......

I Did It!

Yes, I did! I watched an entire Olympic hockey game tonight! Sue, Alyssa and Janis will be SO proud of me. I watched the U.S./Canada game, and here's how it went.

I cheered for Sidney Crosby, 'cause I discovered he's cute, I cheered for Niedermayer (sp?), 'cause he's Alyssa's favorite, and I cheered for Iginla, 'cause he's one of the Flames I know. I also quite dug Brodeur, especially after my dad told me that he is a little old, and past his best, but was one of the best goalies ever,ever at his peak. So there, all you American players! If Brodeur had been young, you would have faced the Looming Wall of Unstoppable Goalie Death! Yeah! .....And, speaking of goalies, what is up with that freak show in the American net? He appears to grow 17 extra arms and legs at every opportunity, and uses these bonus limbs to stop every shot thrown at him. Wally, my smart bro-in-law, said that he was the big star of the moment, and, regrettably for us, it seems to be true.

I also could not help but notice that there was an instance of egregious sitting....some U.S. player sat on Brodeur in a very unkind and compromising fashion, and was anything done about this sitting? No. AND, there was a bit of face-flailing, also against team Canada. Our player was flailed at. In the face. Now, face-flailing, to me, smacks of the spiteful and unsportsmanlike, and I hope the perp can live with himself tonight. Again, no penalty. Someone needs to look into sitting, and face-flailing as future penalty offences.

After all the ups and downs, I must say that those Americans played an excellent game, and I guess that they deserved their win. While it was all quite fun, I do not think that I shall be repeating this hockey-watching excercise, for all of its eye-opening qualities; it is just too, too stressful. I cannot really handle it. I had to lie down afterwards. The words "shitbuggerfuck"came out of my mouth one too many times for politeness or comfort. My mum was in the room, after all. The Canuckers will have to play on without me watching. This will no doubt be a blow, but I imagine they will find a way to go on. If they are in a medal game, I might make an exception, but I'd better refill a couple of prescriptions first...

NY Fashion Week,

WHY do I not get to be there? Why? Be there, and have front row seats to all the awesome shows, and get to go to all the awesome parties. Why have I not been paid the big bucks to write snappy fashion pieces, attend the shows, and of course, be showered with free samples. Oh, now I remember. That's what happens in my head. Not here. In real life. Well, shit.

The Power of One

Sometimes, things only need to happen a single time to be memorable, special,or just plain great. This long weekend was all about such "ones". Some highlights I will share with you.

ONE fun, frosty and joy-filled trip to the big dog park with all four of us, and Georgie. She had such fun playing with the other dogs, and exploring all over. We admired the scenery, the ducks and the hoarfrost. Lovely, lovely.

ONE great time at the hockey arena, watching my nephew Alex do his thing in the finals of his hockey tournament. I could not have been more proud, seeing him wearing the 'C', and giving such a strong effort with his team against a team who has almost always beaten them. Their silver was well won, and I loved every minute of the game.

ONE delightful visit and cup of tea with my friend Jaz, who I have not seen in some months. I have had the pleasure of watching this gal grow from the sweet, kind and remarkably poised teenager from across the street, who used to babysit the girls, into the beautiful, intelligent and wise-beyond-her-years young woman she is today. I love that she and I are friends.

ONE dinner and fun catch-up with Sue, the oldest and best friend a gal could have. Always, always we share laughs, good food, wine and the joy of a companionship 37 years old.

ONE migraine. Ok. Not fun, but memorable. Yuck. Thanks to my lovely Lee and the girls for picking up the slack, and apologies to Connor and Becca for not saying goodbye.

ONE solitary, moonit walk with Georgie, where I danced in an alley to "Come Dancing" by the Kinks, on my ipod, swirling a plastic bag of dog poo, just for effect. Amazingly, I avoided a dire wipe-out on the ice. Weird, the alley dancing with a dog and a bag of poo, I guess, but fun!!

ONE super lunch with old friends. Again, the food, drink, conversation and fun was top drawer. Thanks Michael & San....such a perfect way to spend a Sunday afternoon. Thanks, too, to Cassius for the excellent purrs.

ONE Thai dinner out with Lee for Valentine's Day. I had *just* recovered from the aforementioned migraine enough to totter out for sups. It was perfect, and Lee always takes such good care of me. I cleaned myself up, put on my funky, glittery plaid skirt, and some big-girl shoes, and had a proper, romantic supper with my forever-Valentine. Happy,happy...

I will finish this off with a couple of threes: three lovely nights this weekend with Lee, and three amazing people who share this house with me. Lucky, lucky girl I am. And I love the power of one!

Last night...

...on the way home from yoga, we were driving along Elbow Drive, as per usual, when Lee pointed something out that I have never really clocked before. Upon reflection, I'm not sure whether the amusement value of this outweighs the grave concern for public health and safety.

There is an establishment on Elbow Drive, near-ish to our house, that is called Western Pride Car Wash. So far, so good. Lower down on the signage, one learns that it is coin-operated, and also features a coin-op dog wash. Again, so far, so good. BUT, this fine example of the coin-op car and dog wash also proclaims its shawarmas, falafels, donairs, and sushi.... Sushi..... At a car and dog wash. And not a posh, high-end car wash, either. A coin-op one. I have an image of a guy, balancing his California roll, as he roots through his pockets for change, leaning against his filthy vehicle, as he restrains his large and grimy dog, in the cold cement bay of the Western Pride. Ye gods.

Dear readers, do we want our car washes serving sushi? I mean, the falafels and the donairs are bad enough, but at least they have the benefit of cooking, and all the bacteria-killing joys that cooking brings. Sooooo not the sushi. The worst part is that the good, old Western Pride seems to have been in business awhile. Is this the next wave of cuisine rolling into town? Are we going to find the flavours of the East accesible in all kinds of DIY situations, like carpet cleaning, pick-your-parts, etc? Yeesh... Not for the first time am I glad I'm a vegetarian.

??

Is it wrong to be addicted, and I mean SERIOULSY ADDICTED, to Smartfood's white cheddar popcorn? I think not.

(...picks popcorn crumbs out of the keyboard....)

When Visuals Do One No Favours...

I came across an article about DJing, and the nascence of the art in 70s New York. This article talked about some of the great DJ innovators back in the day, and went on to discuss Grandmaster Flash. Now, who above the age of 30, and a lifelong music person, has not heard of/listened to Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five somewhere along the line? While definitely being in the"aware of" camp, my memories were a little foggy, so I googled GMF. This turned out to be a rather large mistake, for I came across this 'gem'...

Now, far be it from me to not sympathise with past fashion errors being thrown back in one's face; I was the queen of 80s poodle hair, wore safety pinned sweatshirts and rubber bracelets. I have done my time in the Fashion Hall of Shame. But, COME ON. Geez, Louise, why in the name of all that is holy (or,at least, styled) did not some spin doc get ahold of this pic, have an exorcism performed, and the offending object buried at a crossroads at midnight? My eyes and sensibilities hurt in equal measures. I guess that Flash can rest easy in the knowledge that nobody who looks upon this photo will ever, EVER forget him. And not in a good way. Some fashion disasters are beyond absolution...