I Remain Aloof and Ambivilant With a Side of Fog-Induced Misery. Good. Times.

The current weather conditions have prompted Hubby to exclaim his dedication to moving, so he has taken to looking up prospective real estate on the mainland. This has included my hometown, where I have to say “No, that’s not Chatham. That’s actually in Tilbury” to which he shakes his head and says “So?” Yes. Exactly. So? So why are you even looking over there? So, there’s no real viable based-in-reality prospect of us moving to Southwestern Ontario within the next 4 years, but he loves to toy with the idea just to see my reaction. I remain ambivalent and aloof, until the next day which has me looking up real estate in ACTUAL Chatham, not the near-miss towns, and then I get all sentimental and ‘what if’ and then I snap out of it when the IB book list looms over my head reminding me my teenaged son has yet to graduate highschool. And drive. And get a first part-time job with actual customers yelling at him because he messed up their beloved double-double. To relocate the junior would be detrimental to my sanity…and his.
Life marches on and the weather we are experiencing plays a major part in mood and enjoyment of life. The entire month of July has been one big kick in the ass, day-after-day of rain, drizzle, fog and near freezing temperatures. After a while it has one dreaming of beachy vacations amid sand, sun and surf, and possibly even selling it all and moving to an uninhabitable tropical island to become beachcombers and vagrants…is that even possible? Can one still be a rugged beachcomber living off the sand, building a straw hut and eating coconuts and bananas all day as the warm sun sinks into her skin? Ahhh….I think I want to try that.
People are starting to wonder if the sun will ever shine again in our skies. Flowers are not blooming, the barbeque remains unlit and the deck hasn’t seen occupants the entire month. We are now thinking fall will just come swiftly, leaving summer a distant imaginary friend waving at us from our driveway as father backs over her with his car. Poor Summer. She never had a chance with Dad at the wheel.
As the rest of the civilized world bakes in a heat wave, we shiver and huddle in our masses and homes, fires lit in the fire place, blankets abound and the umbrellas and nanny bonnets at the ready. (Nanny bonnet= rain bonnet old ladies wear to protect their permanents. These are Dollar store finds that the senior women use on windy, rainy days, currently in abundance these days. I threatened to don one yesterday as I headed out into torrential rain and 60km hour winds)
You may laugh at our inconsequential whining of ‘no summer weather’ however, we only get two months of summer-like temperatures to begin with. Now take away an entire month, and we are left hoping and desperately pleading with the weather gods to make August a more warmer and sunnier reprieve from the onslaught of winter. We know, we choose to live here, and most of us will not trade places with mainlanders, our island being our homeland as we remain stoically patriotic, however, that tends to wain as the days of rain, drizzle, fog wear on and our spirits begin to drag. A day in the sunshine is all we ask.
I hope with a new month beginning tomorrow, Summer will make an appearance in my driveway. I’ll remind the drivers to watch where they’re going so she can safely wave and maybe even stay for supper.    I’ll turn on the barbeque….who wants a hamburger?

Look!  There it is!  Ahhh...warm....

Look! There it is! Ahhh…warm….

The Positives of Positivity

I wanted to write another Top Ten, but since I couldn’t come up with anything original or interesting for you folks, you’re stuck with whatever pops into ma head next. Soooo….summer is over.

How’s that for positivity?

The fall winds have begun to blow and there goes summer, gone in a puff. What happened? Summer is so brief around here, we have to relish every second. And for the most part, we did. There were barbeques, regattas, birthdays, hot days (rare, but July was one of the hottest here…yay for me!), reading, swearing, drinking which led to more swearing, and finally vacay…2.0. It was awesome and we are all still friends, which is a tribute to great friendships but even better to rum. Yeah.

The dog survived her two and half weeks away from us, the house stood without spontaneously combusting, the cars remained intact and we are all still in one piece…no bumps, no scars but a little bruised…still not sure what that was from.

The girls are back to university, the kid is in his first year of high school (Gawd, I’m old) and I am still here.
Another year ahead of hockey, (ugh) part-time jobs, weekends with the ‘hood, working, writing and hubby complaining…because I think that’s his favorite hobby.

I think New Year’s resolutions should be made in the fall, that way we can make them while we are still in a good mood from the summer. Everything is still bright and shiny like the new pencils we bought for school and our new running shoes we got for gym.

I have some plans and I hope they get to see the light of day. In the meantime, let’s stay positive and keep on going.

I told a student today, baby steps baby. Think of last year and all the great strides you’ve made to get right here where you are today. A simple thing like walking into a building can be the biggest accomplishment you have…so take that and run with it. Doesn’t matter how big or small it is to anyone else…it only matters how big it is to you.

So, what have you accomplished this year?

Me…I’ve decided to become more inspiring…more motivational and positive. Turn stuff around so it looks better from the other side. Sometimes, all it takes is a different perspective.

So, have a great week peeps! And stay positive.

Remember…You. Are. Awesome.

Barney awesome

 

Top Ten Things I Learned on My Epic Family Summer Vacation The Sequel

As it is with ma ‘hood, we like to do stuff together. In fact, togetherness is all the rage, yo. So, behold, on the fourteenth of this past month, five and a half families(the half came in middle of said vacation when a father-son duo joined the group) decided to depart TOGETHER on the Epic Family Vacation venturing on what would become an epic fantasmic event of lost wallets, missing Disney tickets, the barbeque from hell and frogs that just wouldn’t shut the fuck up. Here is a list of shit I learned whilst venturing into the wilds with nothing more than my wits and my flip flops (and alcohol…don’t forget the alcohol):

1. Blue water is good, brown water is yukky and may contain nastiness such as alligators, crocodiles, mosquitos on steroids and wasps…ewww.

2. Nothing says ‘romance’ more than sharing a room with three kids, a cot, a loose praying mantis and a veritable array of alcoholic beverages that do not go well with oatmeal. ugh.

3. Barbeques work especially well when the propane tank is attached and actually filled with propane. When the inevitable ’empty tank’ situation occurs, the next best thing is to ‘borrow’ the neighbour’s barbeque…only beware. Their anti-theft shit is awesome. Four men couldn’t open the tank….it took yours truly, a stealthy little can opener and five minutes of hacking to get that baby to move. I know…I rock. I was proud to announce ma prowess with barbeques after the men all sat back down and recommenced to chugging the beers they were consuming pre-barbeque valve contest. There should have been prize money involved…at least a free t-shirt that read “I OPENED THE BARBEQUE TANK WITH A CAN OPENER. WHAT DID YOU DO TODAY?” yeah.

Yay!  VACATION!!

Yay! VACATION!!

4. Attending Disney is better when you actually remember to bring the tickets. This did not happen to me, but to poor Birthday Girl who forgot the tickets, however, did wisely take pics of them and showed them to the nice lady at Blizzard Beach, who promptly issued new ones. We love her. AND, Birthday Girl’s mom who had to endure the “This is how you take a picture with iphone and email said picture” lesson…which was a bit lengthy, I understand.

5. Keep it in your pants, pal. The wallet, I mean. I was referring to the wallet. The escapades continued with Bday Girls’ fam as her hubby promptly lost his shit on the Summit Plummit ride…and by shit, I was referring to the wallet…which was recovered. Eventually. See? There are good people still walkin’ around out there…AND, he could have lost his shit on that ride I didn’t stick around long enough to watch the descent into madness.

6. Don’t take the fucking chair lift, please. Bday Girl made the mistake of gently suggesting we take the ‘nice chair lift ride’ to the top of the ‘mountain’ so we could ride the water slide. I think I vomited a little in ma mouth before I retorted the “DO YOU WANT TO SEE ME CRY?!!” She then remembered my anxiety around chair lifts (there is no such thing as a ‘nice chair lift ride’) and we made the trek up the stairs.

7. Saying “I just passed away” is not the same as “I just passed out”. Just to be clear. I don’t want people to start the funeral arrangements for daughter who said she “passed away” whilst lounging in a chair in the summer heat…poor girl. I think somebody was eyeing her room and planning to pilfer her eye shadow collection…

8. Standing in the underbelly of a large ship with four thousand of your closest friends with no AC and lined up like targets in a shooting contest all in the name of ‘safety’ doesn’t really work well for me. Hence the nausea, intense sweating and hyperventilating that went on before I moved out to get air. I think if we ever were in a dire situation and we needed life boats, I’ll jump, thanks. I tend to like air…and breathing. Breathing is good. I’ll chance the drowning…and the sharks. Sharks are our friends, right? Right?

9. Apparently, there is no such thing as ‘too much Rum’. Hmmm….

10. Packing a suitcase can be tricky when said suitcase is packed too full already and shit starts to spill out and you have to start leaving stuff behind because it’s over the weight limit. Pretty soon you’ll be approaching strangers in an airport and asking if they want to buy used t-shirts or shoes or ‘look, it’s pretty! Hardly worn…underwear’ . That’s when airport security gets a little ‘annoyed’ and asks you to cease and desist with the Undergarment Giveaway Extravaganza you had planned. Damnit. Soo much decent underwear to be won by the many weary travellers just LOOKING for a great pair of boxers. Ugh.

I leave you with the best line of the vacay:

Heard on the plane as we were about to touchdown in St. John’s, my nine year old neighbour promptly asks what day it is. Friday, we say. “Hey, it’s Happy Hour now. Might as well break out the Tequila! Vacation isn’t over yet!”

AWESOME….I like the way she thinks….

 

Bringing The Awesome From The Past

Hi. How are you? I’m not sure where to begin. I shall inundate you with shit that has no bearing on your life whatsoever, just because it pleases me. How’s that for a beginning? Yeah. I now speak like I was just crowned queen and sit on a thrown made of gold and velvet…or velveeta… which would obviously be more awesome. Who doesn’t love a throne made of cheese?!
The temperature in my office remains a chilly -25 degrees whilst outside the warm summer air is billowing the trees…I so want to be outside. I wear a coat INSIDE and take it off when I get out into the sunshine, instead of the other way around…I think that’s odd…especially since we seldom have sunshine and warmth simultaneously. I’m reveling in the irony.
Recently, my family had a reunion in my hometown and now the old black and white photos of yester year are popping up all over FB. I love it, not only because I get to see my mom and her sibs in their natural habitat when they were young and carefree, but because it also gives everybody a connection. Most of the pictures I have never seen, especially ones involving my Aunt Edie. She was an entity only in my mind. My mother would often say when I was younger, how much I reminded her of my Aunt who had died long ago, but I never knew why. I don’t know the circumstances of her death and I don’t know why I reminded my mother of my Aunt. I may never know, but it’s nice to see an actual face to the name. Maybe it was the way I twisted my hair when I was bored, or the expression on my face when somebody teased me about my freckles or how I continually get lost in unfamiliar places…and even familiar ones. It’s nice to know that your family remembers everyone even if they are no longer in their presence…and can retell old stories as if they are reliving a period in time that somehow got a little lost and by telling the stories, they can find them again, if only for a moment or two. It would be nice to make a reunion in the near future so I can hear these stories in person.
In the meantime, keep up with the pics and I’ll see if I can guess who’s who…and whomever Hercules was, I bet he was the one who thought outside the box and did his own thing…you can tell by the mushroom haircut and the goofy glasses. A man before his time. The name alone is awesome…it signifies greatness…Thought I’d throw that in there in case my cousin has another pic or two of that guy and can give me some clue as to how he managed to photo-bomb our family pics. See? Man before his time….

My Grandfather and Great Grandmother with William Hercules...who is awesome and on the right.

My Grandfather and Great Grandmother with William Hercules…who is awesome and on the right.

 

 

Swimming in the Past

I wasn’t going to post any creative writing junk on this site, but I had nothing else to say right now since everything is crazy and people are crazy and you’re out of order and I’m out of order and the vending machine is fucking out of order!!!  So, here is an excerpt of a story I have been working on. It’s a bit flowery, or something.    Read it.  Breathe it.  Live it. Lament the end of summer.  Send cookies. 

KJ

 

I can hear the rustle of the reeds outside my bedroom window.  The warm breeze sends them into a hazy dance of bent bodies and extended arms.  The darkness signals night, but I am too restless to sleep.  I snuggle deeper under the bedclothes in search of comfort, my eyelids becoming heavier every inch I delve.  I listen intently to the reeds, their music lulling me into a gentle song I know will eventually be my undoing.  I try to stare up at the beamed ceiling, its dark cedar creating ominous shapes in the dark, but my eyelids flutter in protest. I turn to look at my bedroom door, painted a faded white and chipping from the summer humidity and the daily lake- watered towels drooping from atop the corner. 

 The little cottage creaks with adult noises outside my door.  The wooden floorboards heavy with grown-up steps making their way to the glassed porch to watch the night sky turn a deeper twilight as the stars reflection bounce upon the lake water or the television declare an evening news program to be concluding for the night.  I imagine they are sitting together on the little settee, having their late night drink thankful the kids are finally tired and tucked in for the night.  I long to join them, my bare feet padding along the floorboards and snuggling in between them, my head resting on her shoulder, but I dare not move.  I know they will not be upset as much as they would be worried.  Are you sick? They would ask.  Do you have a headache? They would be concerned.  My fair skinned body out in the summer sun all day; in the rolling waves tumbling atop the inflated inner tube my brothers and I pranced and jumped day after day.  Sunstroke, they would think.  Fever, they would fear.  Sunburn, they would lament.  But no, even in the days when sunscreen was unheard of, they took expert care that my fair skin would not burn hidden furtively under a cotton t-shirt, and my face shaded under a sunhat placed securely on my strawberry blond head.  I remained sheltered from swarming mosquitoes, my little body hidden inside the concave of his jacket as we ran along the dusty path during a dusk evening. Saved from myself as I was shuffled hurriedly indoors following an invitation to a young skunk by a singing of ‘here, kitty, kitty, kitty’. 

Fast forward thirty years and I wish I could go back to those long hot summer days.  We would walk bare foot along the stones to the path leading us to the dilapidated shed where the bikes were stowed away.  We would run down to Lake Ontario, our bathing suits clinging to our bodies, the frigid water sending us into tides of joy and near hypothermia, blissfully unaware of any temperatures cooler than the hot sun beating down upon our necks or the dripping ice cream cones we slurped in an afternoon meant for laundry.  I remember being embarrassed that I had been stripped down to my underwear at the local laundry mat waiting for our clothes to wash, but treated to an air hockey game and ice cream at the local variety store as if to make up for the public display of my flowery pink underwear.  That was an Ontario summer.  Full of water, sand, sun and cool nights with the reeds outside my bedroom window singing me to sleep in the little cottage that held all of us tightly in its embrace for a few short precious weeks.     

cottage

 

The Post Birthday Aftermath Mashup

What a great title.  I have no clue what it means, but what a great title.  I hope I can live up to all of your expectations after reading that. 

Yeah, so yesterday was my birthday. I found it to be quite…meh, at first. I went home to grumpy children, a messy house and an incessantly barking dog.  Awesome.

After that, the evening was much better.   Out to dinner and friends for drinks.  Can’t be depressed with alcohol, feuding dogs and besties in my house.  AND cake.  Fudgy icing…the. Best.

Birthdays are one of those occasions where coming up with something original and fun to do is kinda old hat by the time you hit your…older-years.  I’d rather just kick back with a glass of wine, eat good food and visit with friends.  That’s perfect.  Sorta like a DH night Spectacular only happening mid-week.  That’s what I’ll do next year for ma birthday.  Get all the ladies together mid-week for a DH Special Edition…I’ll remember to get the next day off of work so it should be spectacular.  Only 364 more days to go!  Rock on, winos…

I’m drinking a coffee from yesterday that D2 bought me, but I was too full to drink.  Is that bad?  It tastes okay…just a little funky.  Probs should have tossed it, but couldn’t bring myself to toss a perfectly good coffee.  If I get sick, I’ll be sure to post something of my untimely demise…or get one of ma family members to do so.  I’m sure they’ll be all “If she just hadn’t have drank that day-old coffee, she could still be here drinking yukky wine instead.  She bequeathed me this here blog, so I’ll be the one writing here from now on.”  (I imagined one of ma family members talking like a southern redneck…not sure how or why they would spontaneously become southern…maybe it had to do with the fumes from the day-old coffee.  Turns peeps into rednecks…you have been warned.)  Good luck with that, kids….I should try to stay alive to save you from hearing about D2’s rowing and constant living at the boathouse and how she tragically missed ma birthday supper; or son’s escapades on the golf course with 80 year old men who threaten to sue him because he hit a line drive and almost hit an old geezer who was just about to finish on the green; nice;  or D1’s attempts at securing her own car whilst working two jobs and whining incessantly about all of the above; or Hubby lamenting about his job and the knee surgery he’s about to undergo in the fall and how it really is tragic and sad that hockey isn’t a year round sport.

  It really is awesome being me.

  Just think, by keeping myself alive, I’m saving you from all of that shit.

 You. Are. Welcome.

So here are a few fun facts to keep you entertained and enlightened on this auspicious day:

·       25 – the number of times I’ve said ‘fuck- off’ in my head today.  It’s only 9:30 am.

·       3 – the number of  times Mags bit me on my ear to try to wake me up at 5:30am to go out and pee.  Most of the above bullet could be from the Mags episode alone….

·       A Year and A Half – the amount of time it’s going to take me to read Under The Dome by Stephen King that one of my Besties gave me last night and I’m dying to start.  It’s friggin’ huge.

·       10 – the number of glasses of wine I WANTED to drink last night

·       3- the number of glasses of wine I ACTUALLY  drank last night

·       29 – had I been turning 29 yesterday, that would have been the number of candles on my cake

·       74- The number of candles Hubby actually put on my birthday cake.

·       5- the number of pages in the divorce package

Miss H, had I voted on your ‘who’s the couple most likely to be divorced first?’ question last Saturday night, I would be able to say “I WIN!”…ugh.  I kid, I kid….Hubby still wants to be married to me, and vice-versa…despite the candle explosion.

There you have it, some enlightening numeral facts that you all should be proud to know.

 I live for this shit….

Apparently, this describes me quite accurately...ugh.

Apparently, this describes me quite accurately…ugh.

A Swamp Holiday

You may or may not have noticed depending on your attention span and ability to notice things,  that I have changed crap around here.  Didn’t notice, huh?  The whole fucking thing is completely different.  How did you NOT notice that?!  It was black, now it’s white.  I have an iceberg in my header (that sounds oddly disturbing like some kid is running up and down the halls of school shouting “I HAVE AN ICEBERG IN MY HEADER! I HAVE AN ICEBERG IN MY HEADER!  SOMEBODY HELP ME!!”)  My name is back to Kayjai, notice the pretty blue background design? and apparently my fonts are too small.  I said FONTS…let’s keep it almost clean, people.

Anyway, in getting my shit together and trying (very inadequately I might add) to change my gravatars, the name, my username, my address, my social insurance number, my alias, my passport information and any other shit I needed to change in order to revert back to the persona I was before all this shit went down.  I of course in my infinite wisdom, contacted Miss H who lives across the street then the astounding WordPress Happiness Engineers.  Who, by the way, take longer than Hubby trying to choose a family vacation destination (which is taking fucking forever by the way, ugh and If he leaves it up to me we could end up in the deep woods of Mississippi or the alligator-infested waters of some random swamp because who doesn’t want to see Hubby wrestle an alligator?). I wonder how much it would cost to rent one of these puppies?

I hope I get to drive!!

I hope I get to drive!!

  I’m still waiting to see how my most amazing pic for my blavatar is not loading so you all can enjoy the newness of my pic…or maybe you can’t see that pic.  I’m not sure.  Anyway, I’m still waiting…for the Happiness Engineers, not Miss H.  She promptly replies to my over-exuberant and exhausting emails….I know right, like why???

So, as I’m impatiently waiting for ma lovely artist rendition of somebody that I picked up on the web to upload, please enjoy these pics of my future family holiday.

He's waiting for Hubby to take him down.;

He’s waiting for Hubby to take him down.

Well, this looks kinda pretty...and spooky.

Well, this looks kinda pretty…and spooky.

Hey!  Shrek!  Maybe we could hunt for Shrek while we're dodging the 'gators and snakes and creepy things...

Hey! Shrek! Maybe we could hunt for Shrek while we’re dodging the ‘gators and snakes and creepy things…Watch out summer vacation!!