Wooooooooh!!!!! Yeah! I LOVE Halloween. I know it's silly, but there is something about the way the air smells and the way the trees look that takes me right back to my childhood. Granted, Halloween in England didn't really catch on as we know it in Canada until recently. Trick or Treat was something that belonged to movies like E.T and the Adams Family. As kids, we usually ducked our heads into a bucket of cold water for a scabby apple (duck apple night) or put on a blindfold and got lockjaw trying to catch one as it dangled from string (while our parents peed themselves laughing at our expense) Honestly, there was always someone at school the next day with a cricked neck! We didn't dress up and go house to house like the kids over here. In fact, I don't think this was a concept we ever really grasped then - a point proven by the kid who knocked on my door one Oct 31st. " Trick or Treat!!" he shouted. "What does that mean?" I asked. "Well", said the kid, looking perplexed, "you have to give us a treat or else you play a trick on us!!!" I don't think he was too impressed with the bucket of water I hurled over him, complete with half eaten apples! (O.K, only joking about that bit, but honestly, .....) I did put on some pretty impressive Halloween parties at my house though when I was a "gay divorcee"  complete with black bin bags as curtains and lots of goodies involving green jelly and gummy worms (and blood --red wine-- for the adults to drink). I remember one hysterically funny Halloween in particular where we had eight kids all crying by 9.o'clock because I turned out the lights and read them Grimms Fairy Tales in the dark - have you ever read those things? They're evil!! These guys were obviously the ancestors of Steven King!! Seriously, they make Itchy and Scratchy look like your typical household pets! And talking of evil, we put up our "Outside Halloween Display" this weekend. You know the deal... gravestones, hanging bats, cut off hand on the barbeque.... I made a cool scary monster and sat it in a chair. We now have a cute little cat which has taken up  residence on it's lap!  The cat is there every time I come home and looks totally content! Just goes to show how selfish cats are... They don't care if you look like Frankenstein's monster, as long as you can keep them warm, they use you and abuse you!! (must remember to re-stuff the monsters flattened crotch before Friday!)  Know what else I love about this season??? Crumpets are back! (Yeah, I know you can find them most days of the year if you look) But... I'm the kinda girl who likes to keep my seasons and celebrations seperate! More special, if you like, to have "permission" to eat things. Crumpets and pumpkin pies star in October and finish in November, Tangerines and candy canes are allowed from November to end of January, Cadbury's cream eggs are March and April and ice cold beer is acceptable from April to April. You get the gist! And my VERY FAVOURITE thing about this time of year is the fact that, starting Saturday morning, ALL the Halloween candy goes on sale (half price or less).YEAH !!!!

Its begging to be eaten, and I know just the person to do the job.(scabby apples my eye!!)

file:///Users/jean-pierredaspe/Desktop/halloween_8_1600x1200.jpg

I'm writing this blog so early ! Honestly, I was awake at 5.15a.m!!! No, I'm not up early to catch a plane or go out running before I go to work! Nothing so adventurous! I just had a good nights sleep and woke up early. Think I must be turning into one of those little old ladies who rises at dawn to feed the cat ( you know the kind - "here's your dinner Timmy, half for you, half for mummy...") Actually, judging by some of the things I've been doing lately, I may have already 'tuned'! Yesterday I went to make a phone call at work and I picked up the calculator and began 'dialing' the number! Then, last night, I turned on the upstairs light (from downstairs) ran upstairs, thought "Doh! someone's left the light on!" and turned it off!!!! Help! Talking of 'little old ladies', I went to the new library last night (where's the link ? you say... well, isn't the library full of little old ladies, shuffling round on their zimmers, trying to burn off the last of the cat food so they will have room for their Meals on Wheels dinner..) Anyway, as usual, I digress. The thing I wanted to say was WOW!! have you seen the new technology down at the library. They have this "self check out' set up. I was trying to figure it out. I had a stack of books ( no, I'm not hinting at my literary expertise - they were mostly French kids books for 'sonny boy' ). I put these books down on this large flat area next to the monitor while I read the instructions. Well, next thing is, the titles from the ten books appeared on the screen as 'checked out' ready for taking !! What the.. How did it DO that ?? the books were stacked on on top of each other!!! How did the machine read the barcodes vertically ??? I was flabbergasted ... seriously, my gast has never been so flabbered! It was magic -like a scene from Harry Potter and the Library of Secrets!   If you look at the security footage from the library, you will see me looking at the books, then back at the screen, then scratching my head with my jaw hanging open. I sort of felt like I was on candid camera! It was so cool. I mean, I can still remember doing all my homework at the library using Micro fiche and the drawers with all the Dewey index cards in! Now I do sound old! Isn't technology AWESOME? Maybe the day when you can press a book to you forehead and absorb it instantaneously isn't too far way ( come on, admit it, you've thought of this too when you've been cramming for a an exam at the last minute haven't you !?I'm not crazy!) And talking of crazy, really, do I look crazy? I'll tell you why I'm asking. The other day there was a knock on my door. It was one of the neighbours kids. He had his friend with him. He'd come to ask if I would let his friend borrow a PENKNIFE so they could play "whittling" in the forest. Apparently, he had one but his friend didn't!!! Oh, that's O.K then, of course he could use ....NO!!!  "Oh sure, little boy I've never met before, here's my knife. Feel free to go off into the forest and chop off your extremities with MY KNIFE! Oh. and when your mum asks where you got the knife, don't forget to tell her it was the CRAZY woman up the street who lent it to you!" Jeez! Kids today! What's the world coming to?? Wait a minute, isn't that something an old person would say???

Aaaaah!...Back from another relaxing weekend at our "cottage" up in Whistler. Nothing to do but walk, eat, drink and soak in the hot tub.  I know, I know, it's not really our "cottage", it's the Marriott Residences, but we go there so often and it's so cheap that it's actually better than a cottage! No leaks to fix, wood to chop, rats to kill or sheets to change. And we get an all you can eat breakfast buffet thrown in (which, for cheapskates like us, translates into lunch as well!!) You might ask "How do they afford all this, it's not fair??" HA!  Well, if you all play your cards right, you can coast along on the fruits of your off-spring's labours just like us! You see, it's all to do with strategy. You have to get to them while they are young, really, really young! And you have to be prepared! From the first time they ask you ,"mummy, what shall I be when I grow up??", your job is to steer them towards careers that come with "perks". You know what that means:-  discounts, freebies, leftovers, day- olds  (don't be too proud to accept week- olds as well, they have their uses!)..... A typical conversation could go like this:-

CHILD :- "mummy, teacher says I have a unique talent for playing the flute. He called me a funny name, it sounded like "child prodigy"  ?? Maybe I could be a concert flautist when I grow up??? What do you think?

Now, unless you have a passion for dressing up in long frocks to attend world class gala events starring your first born, I suggest you waste no time using one of the following replies:-

REPLY #1.... "No, silly, prodigy means you aren't very good at the flute, teacher was too polite to tell you (followed by a rub of their head and a chuckle to lighten the moment)

REPLY # 2.... " Flautists are the lowest paid of all musicians, and the retirement age for flautists is twenty two, THEN what will you do,work at Subway?" (hey, free subs???...Naah)

if  answers like these fail to dissuade junior, don't be afraid to rub your stretch marks while reminding them that, after you suffered 6 hours of agonising labour just so they could be born, it is only fair that they consider you when they are choosing a profession.

In my own case, my  #1 "gifted" child was steered towards Starbucks as soon as her milk teeth fell out (free coffee for the duration!) and is now pursuing a career in Psychology. (must admit, not my first choice, which was exotic dancer on a cruise ship, Doh! no Carribeann cruise for us  ..Yet!)However, the way my memory is fading fast, I look forward to many happy (free) hours laying on a couch being listened to! 

Gifted child #2 was harder to break! She had her heart set on being a ranch hand out in Montana, but despite her amazing ability with a lassoo (where the Hell did she learn that??) I don't like horses. There teeth are too big and all those beans.... well, don't get me started on my dietary intolerances! Anyway, managed to get her on the cafeteria program at school and the rest is history! Granted, it does tug on my heart strings when she complains about having to work eleven hour shifts, nine days in a row and she hasn't been at a family dinner for six years but, Hey! , we all have our crosses to bear (only last week I had to work till 3.15pm because someone phoned just as I was going out of the door). And as I said to her today, just as she was leaving for work " don't worry sweetie, SOMEONE has to cook for the poor homesick hotel guests, yes, I'll keep you a plate of Thanksgiving dinner, Oh, and by the way, can you pick me up another "parents discount" form from work (for Seattle this time), there's a love!"  

Now, lets think about gifted child #3. He shows all the signs of being a fabulous policeman or a judge but what's in it for us?? A free night in the slammer, leniency when I'm caught shoplifting due to my failing memory??? I don't think so! No, he's going to be an architect. I've got my heart set on a REAL country cottage in Whistler, preferably with a lakeside location (and his birth was the most painful of all!!) 

THERE"S FROST ON THE ROOF!!!! actually, let me be more specific. That statement sounds like a veiled reference to my greying hair, but what I actually mean is "there's frost on the roof!!!" Literally. I was standing at the bus-stop early this morning (REALLY early!) and I couldn't believe how white and frosty it was. There was smoke coming out of the chimneys, clouds hanging on the mountains and it was SO beautiful! I  was freezing... but that was my own fault for not looking out the window before I left the house. Mental note to self to drag out the box of odd gloves and manky scarfs I have been accumulating over the years to see if I can find a matching set! (I didn't find one last year so I don't know who I am kidding!) Anyway, the "student express" arrived and I claimed the first seat as usual (one of the benefits of living "at the end of the Universe" AKA "the Cove"). I have a love - hate relationship with this bus (or, to be precise, busses) journey to work. It takes as long to get to work as it would take me to fly to Calgary, but I get a kick out of watching the bus cram to sardine tin proportions with homestay students from all over the planet. Believe me, by the time we get to Phibbs Exchange, they are hanging off the light fittings. This morning it was even squishier, partly because of the new design bus which seems to only have about ten seats, but mainly due to the Japanese students fending of the cold by donning those oversize, stay-puff marshmallow coats over their teeny tiny bodies. Honestly, I'm not making this up! You can tell where the students come from by the clothes they wear and their habits as a bus passenger. The Japanese girls are usually the first to take out their homework on the bus, whereas the Spanish are the first to take out their cell-phones (which they talk loudly into the whole journey). There are usually a couple of them and it's crossed my mind that they may actually be talking to each other! The Swiss students can be identified by their moody looks and gorgeous blonde hair and, this morning, the quality of their outerwear which wouldn't look out of place on someone climbing the Matterhorn - all fur-trimmed collars and double stitching. The Korean students are easiest to spot. The boys  often have that red dyed hair that they spend hours working on to make it look like they just got out of bed, black, chain studded jeans hanging down like they are waiting for a daiper change and an expression that hints that they are only going through the motions of going to school because dad threatened to cut off their inheritance if they didn't! The girls this morning hadn't dressed for the cold and shivered up the gangway in their slip sloppy shoes to find a seat to huddle in and go back to sleep! Today there was a Spanish language student who must have been in her fifties. You could tell her age not just by the way she looked but by the wheely bag she was using to carry all her books (sensible!!) It was cool to watch her chatting away with the younger kids and it just reinforced my belief that you are never too old to learn!

I was talking to someone about dating today (she is "back in the game" after many years) and she was saying how she sometimes goes "online" to meet prospective suitors. Wow, using the "world wild web" to meet men!! How times have changed. Now you can sift out the weirdos before you waste time shaving your legs and plucking your eyebrows! What with t'internet and cell phones with call display, you can save yourself a lot of grief and pointless hangovers nowadays, not to mention hours standing in some rain soaked, smelly telephone box hoping your prospective "boyfriend" doesn't pretend to be out when you call. The smell of urine will forever be inextricably linked with my memories of my teen dating! No, I didn't have a bladder problem and pee myself in my heightened state of anxiety!! It's just that public telephone boxes in England ALWAYS smell like a urinal! In a way though, it did seem sort of more romantic somehow. Specially if HE has walked all the way in the rain to the telephone box to call you! That was a good sign, except if you didn't really like him. Then you had that dilemma of having to go on a "guilt" date with him or pretend to be your sister and say you were out! And, if you did like the guy, at three minutes for 5 pence it was hard to have a " hot 'n' heavy" conversation when you  a) only had  10 pence in change and the shops were closed,  b) you had to stop every three minutes to put your money in! and c) there was the nosy neighbour from up the street waiting outside to use the phone and listening through the broken window panes to every sigh and smooch!   Come to think of it, maybe Live Links is the way to go but I cant help thinking my daughters missed out somehow!

Aaaah, Saturday morning. Best morning of the week. Nothing to get up for.No hurry, breakfast in bed, cartoons on T.V. ........CARTOONS?? That's not me! No , actually, I'm the one MAKING the breakfast in bed for the pampered poodle AKA Maxim!!! On the way to the kitchen take the laundry out of the dryer so sonny boy will have a kit to wear for this afternoon's soccer game. Who the hell left a kleenex in their pocket!!! Where is that roller thingy that removes lint? Cant find it. Use duct tape instead! Put new laundry in while I'm there. Run back to put toilet cleaner down the toilet because I have this secret fear that those two English women will turn up to demand "How Clean Is YOUR House???" rescue a spider that has been hanging around the bathroom for a couple of days. (not that I'm feeling benevolent, just that I dont want it climbing on me when I'm asleep!!). On my way to make my desperately need cuppa cha I hear "Muuuum, I've spilt my milk all over the bed... It's all up my arms. I can't move!!!"  Zut Allors!!  (which means Oh crap! in French ) Run back, yell at the boy, drag soggy duvet to washer,  (actually, think of wiping it with his dirty T-shirt but know that in a few days we will all be saying "what's that horrible SMELL??" ) finally get back to the kitchen to make my coffee.  Step outside to peel the soggy wet newspaper off the porch (shoulda picked it up last night when I saw it but had my arms full!)   Aaah, at last, coffee time.. Damn, forgot to switch on the coffee maker! While that's "perking" run downstairs to fix my hair. Now, before we go any further, must explain that I got a haircut yesterday. Look in the mirror. Would like to see Meg Ryan look -alike staring back. Instead, see Ronald McDonald (without his makeup) leering back!  Crap!. The first few days after a haircut are the worst. Attempt to hurredly re-create the magnificent "hot" do that I left the salon with yesterday.  No time, and no talent. I end up looking like my head has been sucked into a wind turbine!!!  Too late to fix it now!  Scream at boyyo to get dressed, gulp back my coffee and head to the car. It's 9.15am and I have to pick hubby up from work. If he mentions my new haircut I'll kill him!!!    Don't you LOVE Saturday mornings????

Just returned from my tap dancing class , hot, sweaty and feeling very proud of myself for dragging my sorry butt off the sofa and doing something for myself at last. For one short hour of the week I am fifteen again, dreaming of top hats and fishnets and vying for the teachers attention!! " look what I can do, look what I can do!!" (actually, that's not entirely true, I'm really dreaming that if I keep this up I just might get a perfect bum  like the teachers!!) Anyway, it's good to make some time out of my crazy week to unwind and have some fun. Talking of unwinding, I bought myself one of those "self help, teach yourself meditation" books which came with an instructional C.D. If you're like me, you love the idea of sitting doing nothing but "getting in touch with your inner self"...(and here I'll resist the temptation to compare that phrase to some kind of do it yourself gynaelogical exam, nudge nudge, wink wink, say no more....) but somehow find the actual practice of it seems too much like hard work! Anyway, seeing as how I am on a "do it now or never" rant right now ( hence this blog!) I decided that the only time I could find to meditate this week was during  the 30 minutes my son was in his guitar lesson. Which is why I could be found avec sunglasses (so no one could see my eyes closed) sweating my buns off in the car outside the music store -which happens to be next door to a busy pub! I put in the CD, dutifully pressed my fingers together in the required energy chanelling pose, and tried to learn this elusive thing called "meditation". How hard can it be for crying out loud!!! VERY, as it turns out. "relax and make yourself comfortable" says the CD. My feet are boiling in my shoes. Try to kick off shoes without getting "out of the moment" "if you hear a clock ticking, move it from the room" says the CD. OH YEAH!! does that apply to the #212 bus that just roared past or the Harley that just frightened the **** out of me??? (I did good, sir, I didn't open my eyes ... yet!) Try unconsciously to close the sun roof with pressed together fingers. Manage to do that to lessen the noise but now I am sweating like a pig. "If your nose itches, scratch it gently..." SCRATCH IT GENTLY!! Have you ever tried scratching just one itch?? One scratch and I'm suddenly itching like a marathon runner wearing a wool suit!!!  Concentrate...concentrate, stay "in the moment"...  It's hard not to open my eyes 'cos I am certain that if I do I will find a crowd of gawking half cuts on the pub's patio wondering what the red faced wierd old woman in the shades is doing, and why are there the sounds of Tibetan bells resonating from the car.??   This reminds me of the time my sister fell asleep next to her one year old in a car in a carpark in Wales and woke up to find a group of people staring at her through the poo smeared windscreen of the car...Oh, what, the poo??? The baby did it of course, I know the Welsh don't like the English much but I dont think they would stoop that low!!! Unless you thought SHE did it (in some strange sleep walking type behaviour???). Anyway, I digress AGAIN. Suffice to say, the 30 minute will have to be repeated at a later date. Somethings are just meant to do in private!

OK this is it, me joining the 21st century on the "world wide web"...who'd have thunk it!!!!

Not that is hasn't taken me long enough! I mean, whats with those stupid "word verification" thingamajigs. By the time you have figured out what the hell it says..fratolay, bibomat, reoutronit.. the thing changes. I gave up three times but here I am now, wondering what the hell do people write about on BLOGS?....mmmm, how about Tupperware.  I'm sure I can't be the only woman to freeze little bits of leftovers to be used "at a later date". It's the environmental thing to do isn't it. This system would work perfectly if I remembered to label the stuff AND if I remembered that it was there in the first place!!! Anyway, I read on an energy saving website that its best to have your freezer full of ANYTHING (even newspaper) as it makes it run more efficiently! PLUS, when did a ball of newspaper ever come in useful as a last minute packed lunch when you realise that you went into the store to by bread but got sidetracked by a deal on mascara!? ( it had free blue nail polish, might come in handy one day!) Anyway, as I said, I think theres no harm to my thriftiness. If only "hubby" would agree. Once in a while, he goes on an organising rant, usually brought on by the "plastics" cupboard exploding or him trying to find a lid for his lunch. It goes something like this:-..."where the hell have all the lunchboxes gone, somebody must have stole them..." (Imagine putting that on your insurance claim form!) Me:- I think there may be a couple in the freezer with.." Him:- Oh no, not the freezer!!! YUP, of he goes to "organise the freezer" After a frenzy of " what is THIS,  Oh, God, heres another one" and me getting really defensive with "I need that, that's tomato sauce (I think) and "that has lentils in, its healthy", we are left with a line up of frost encased boxes (eight in all) and the challenge of identifying them "is that a peach, no I think its a carrot, thats chilli... or is it soup? I couldnt eat that burger, I dont know if its veggie or not!" Anyway, frugal to the last, as I write this there is a lovely pot of "mystery soup" simmering, OK, blubbering on the stovetop. WISH ME LUCK!!!