tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-84569932430401550482024-03-12T21:11:59.036-05:00NiftyUniverseMistress of My DomainNiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.comBlogger125125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-37701705705658837622012-05-24T08:49:00.000-05:002012-05-24T08:49:34.906-05:00Time For A Little Color!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iqyv-l185pw/T748FbwSzNI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/Ww_CoTOz-t4/s1600/Beverly+Ann+Sweeney.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="388" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iqyv-l185pw/T748FbwSzNI/AAAAAAAAB4Q/Ww_CoTOz-t4/s640/Beverly+Ann+Sweeney.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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We are having a very dry spring here, after an extremely dry and mild winter. I noticed the other day that the pine tree in our yard is showing signs of stress, it's needles faded and slightly rusty looking. Today I saw that the grass in the local parks is dry and yellow like the end of July in a hot summer! Our spring flowers were forced out too early by the unseasonable heat in March and their colors faded within days - sometimes hours - of first blooming. When I was planting some summer annuals this weekend, the earth in some places was so dry it collapsed like gravely sand. I've never seen anything like it here before.<br />
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I hope we get rain soon and plenty of it!<br />
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Anyway, all of this dryness and wonky weather made me long for spring showers, the soft caress of cool damp fog on the cheeks and the sweet, clean fresh air heavy with the fragrance of lilacs after a late spring rain. I am longing for deep, bright colors and cool refreshing damp air. And I know just the place to find that!<br />
(via <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Newfoundland/137335507413?ref=ts">Newfoundland</a> on facebook)<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3soXFfwh-ow/T72VwdsZG8I/AAAAAAAAB0Y/Wokb-lXoSN8/s1600/400354_10150466930752414_137335507413_9008801_56697174_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3soXFfwh-ow/T72VwdsZG8I/AAAAAAAAB0Y/Wokb-lXoSN8/s320/400354_10150466930752414_137335507413_9008801_56697174_n.jpeg" width="254" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">Some houses are wide.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Some houses are thin.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Some are so thin</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">you can hardly get in.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But wherever you go,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">you will hear someone say,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Come over to my house.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Come over and play!"</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hRL-dHe6Gxw/T72V0ObdteI/AAAAAAAAB0g/WhtmMgFtwhA/s1600/388242_10150466930872414_137335507413_9008802_792123083_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-hRL-dHe6Gxw/T72V0ObdteI/AAAAAAAAB0g/WhtmMgFtwhA/s320/388242_10150466930872414_137335507413_9008802_792123083_n.jpeg" width="252" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Come over to my house.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The fishing is great!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">They bite all the time</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and you don't have to wait.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Come over some day</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and bring plenty of bait.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lxGIJEI7xhs/T721PHwIu-I/AAAAAAAAB3Y/Lr7bmQBzIX0/s1600/298574_10150377764015586_2005974920_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lxGIJEI7xhs/T721PHwIu-I/AAAAAAAAB3Y/Lr7bmQBzIX0/s320/298574_10150377764015586_2005974920_n.jpeg" width="284" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">You can play on my roof, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">but my house is so tall,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">it's a long way downstairs</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">to go after a ball.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">My house is bright pink</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and it's happy and gay.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Our streets are wet water.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We like it that way.</span><br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kJ2B1U_4WBc/T722NadupwI/AAAAAAAAB3o/vhgKGmXROH0/s1600/386544_10150473061415586_698140585_10962674_112101333_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kJ2B1U_4WBc/T722NadupwI/AAAAAAAAB3o/vhgKGmXROH0/s320/386544_10150473061415586_698140585_10962674_112101333_n.jpeg" width="252" /></a><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Every house in the world</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">has a ceiling and floor.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But the ones you'll like best</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">have a wide-open door.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Some houses are rich</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">full of silver and gold.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And some are quite poor,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">sort of empty and old.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CphQAlFCKCo/T722gUMbcKI/AAAAAAAAB3w/9Iw2W7uc1c8/s1600/386488_10150488950415586_698140585_11012543_1622868963_n.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CphQAlFCKCo/T722gUMbcKI/AAAAAAAAB3w/9Iw2W7uc1c8/s320/386488_10150488950415586_698140585_11012543_1622868963_n.jpeg" width="259" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Some houses are marble</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and some are just tin.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But they're all, all alike</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">when a friend asks you in.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There are so many houses</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">you'll meet on your way.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">And wherever you go,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">you will hear someone say . . .</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Come over to my house!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Come over and play!"</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;">From Come Over to My House, Theo.LeSieg (Theo. Geisel)</span><br />
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And, just for good measure - one last dose of color and glory. You're welcome!<br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="315" src="http://www.youtube.com/embed/RpShYvI84JI" width="560"></iframe><br />NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-10005189319635752052012-05-05T13:54:00.004-05:002012-05-05T13:54:43.406-05:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pEUTZNj-fBE/T6V3UITY2qI/AAAAAAAABUw/-QypCmRwy5M/s1600/graduation1-300x300.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pEUTZNj-fBE/T6V3UITY2qI/AAAAAAAABUw/-QypCmRwy5M/s640/graduation1-300x300.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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In honor of my daughter, graduating today with her degree in physics and philosophy. </div>
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You challenged yourself. </div>
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You took the road less traveled.</div>
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You learned how very capable and talented and awesome you are.</div>
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Congratulations, Niftydottir, I am so proud of you.</div>NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-16669231302768179592012-04-15T12:03:00.000-05:002012-09-16T20:10:59.943-05:00Housekeeping Notes...<br />
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My regular readers may have noticed a little change up yonder in the navigation bar - I registered my own domain name yesterday! The moment I did so, however, I realized that I must have completely lost my mind. I have no idea how to set the new domain up for my blog. I wasted <strike>about an hour</strike> quite a long time trying to find a help page that could even point me in the right direction, before <strike>quitting in a fit of pique</strike> giving up in frustration.</div>
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I know nothing about web design, web hosting or anything else connected with the actual operation of computers. This is not false modesty (oh, I wish!), but a simple statement of fact. Really, it is an understatement of fact, because few words can describe my sheer incompetence with computers. Obviously, my ritual of pouring a glass of wine to fortify me when tackling vexing computer-related issues is the one sensible thing I am able to point to in this story, but the rest was a disaster!</div>
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Actor portraying your frustrated correspondent</div>
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It may have all worked out just fine if I had had even the most elementary introduction to how computers work and basic keyboarding. Instead, Mr. Nifty dragged yours truly into the modern era, kicking and screaming, in the mid-1990's and soon thereafter left me to fend for myself. The intervening years have not been pretty.</div>
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I am not one to complain, but there are some things that are just ridiculously over-complicated and personal computers are the worst. I can never remember how to open programs or even to find things in my own files and the computer experiences regular meltdowns because I forget how to do the simplest operations. Actually, I barely know how to use a keyboard, either, having never learned it when I was younger and now being too old to learn these newfangled tricks!</div>
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As a matter of fact, I have been meaning to have a word with the gods about this. I want to know why I had to suffer the misfortune of being born too late for the computer revolution? Really, it is all too much! Personal computers were just becoming a thing in the couple of years <i>after I graduated from university</i>. Yes, I made my way through college without the internet, without word processing - I <i>hand-wrote</i> most of my term papers and all of my essays! - and without any understanding whatsoever about any of the new technologies coming right up behind me. Life is so unfair!!</div>
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Huh? Speak for yourself!</div>
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Let us be perfectly frank: when it comes to computer technology, I am as ignorant and helpless as a baby. No wait, a baby would probably be ahead of me in this game. Aren't they training youngsters in basic keyboarding and DOS and fortran and all that nonsense <i><a href="http://abcnews.go.com/Nightline/science-skeptical-prenatal-products/story?id=9513543#.T4r6JngqOL0">in utero</a></i> these days? It seems like that to me.</div>
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Anyway, in keeping with my usual <strike>thoughtless impulsivity</strike> mature reflection, I decided to register my domain name in preparation for the hordes of internet traffic that will <strike>never</strike> <strike>eventually</strike> soon be visiting my blog every day, without a doubt!</div>
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Eventually, I managed to find help*, and figured out how to simply redirect <i>this</i> blog to <i>that</i> web domain and here we are! It really is very simple for calm, capable people like Your Able Correspondent.</div>
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Nothing to see here!</div>
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Situation under control</div>
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Except that when I logged on this morning to check on my favorite bloggers from my blog list, <i>the blog list was <b>gone</b></i>! Searching frantically through random files and clicking crazily on every link I could find, I soon managed to <strike>create more chaos than is imaginable on one desktop</strike> put everything more or less to rights. True, files have been moved and stuffed wherever I may or may not have remembered they belong, and the desktop is cluttered with more zips and pix and other junk than you can shake a stick at, but I have everything under control!</div>
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I have gone through and put my favorite blogs links all back on here, but who knows what else may have been dropped into the internet void during the migration! The horror! I may never figure any of this out properly, but I plan to <strike>lurch haphazardly onward with my usual impatience</strike> continue to work diligently toward my usual outstanding results!</div>
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I hope my regular readers will help out by letting me know if they notice anything that seems wonky on my blog, or if anything has gone mysteriously missing. It is <strike>probable</strike> possible that I may have <strike>brought about blog armageddon</strike> overlooked one or two things during the transition! Not to worry, though! In no time at all I will have restored the blog to full operating capacity, tamed the internet demons and once again be sitting down to write daily at a desk that looks like this:</div>
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Artist's rendition the future workspace of Your Faithful Scribe</div>
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Back to the NiftyUniverse forthwith! Good Day to All!</div>
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*Pro-tip: Type: "How the #$#!! do I set up my blog?" in the google window-thingie and voilà! Step-by-step instructions. You're welcome.</div>
NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-77700940202361109432012-02-21T21:56:00.000-06:002012-02-21T22:34:07.325-06:00Après SkiWe are back home now, but suffice to say....I still have what it takes!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qbhjgYhUwJE/T0REegLMtuI/AAAAAAAAATs/_l1_roTm5qc/s1600/reneeskilift.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-qbhjgYhUwJE/T0REegLMtuI/AAAAAAAAATs/_l1_roTm5qc/s320/reneeskilift.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> Yours Truly triumphantly riding up on the chair lift to the top of <strike>the bunny</strike> an expert hill. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
It is true that, in spite of my <strike>childish dabbling</strike> youthful prowess on skis, I had never actually been anywhere serviced by actual chair lifts or lifts of any kind. The <strike>pathetic shoestring ski club </strike> awesome little ski club to which I belonged as a youngster did have one very primitive tow rope (and by tow rope, I mean literally a raw, thick rope which towed a skier up the hill - the friction of the coarse rope clutched against one usually burning one's jacket to a frayed remnant at waist level in the process. We had no t-bars or little handles of any sort. One learned the hard way to figure out how to time grasping the rough rope while fitting one's skis into the deep ruts and tried not to get stuck on mild days so that the rope pulled all of you (and your skis) up the steep hill, rather than simply yanking your upper body first, causing you to sprawl in an ungainly heap across the grooves less than 5 feet from the tow hut*).<br />
<br />
At Big Powderhorn, they have chair lifts! And plenty of 'em! I consider this to be a marvelous advance in ski technology and it is high time it was done! It was deliciously relaxing riding up above the powdery whiteness, though a little unnerving to watch reckless snowboarders and novice skiers whizzing directly below my chair! There was a momentary awkwardness when the silly chair reached the top and the foolish man there failed to stop the lift so that I could gracefully disembark, but with my usual aplomb, I nimbly hopped off and performed a very difficult and highly admired sit-ski** over to the top of the hill <strike>where my long-suffering spouse grabbed my arm and heaved me to my feet </strike>where my dear husband exclaimed over my amazing technique!<br />
<br />
I was greeted there by my two handsome sons, both expert snowboarders, naturally (they are my sons, after all!). We sporty people tend to pass our sporty genes on to the next generation. You're welcome, kids.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Byv58K4sENo/T0REcfBY5QI/AAAAAAAAATk/M6Zl73y5xu8/s1600/EKpowderhorn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Byv58K4sENo/T0REcfBY5QI/AAAAAAAAATk/M6Zl73y5xu8/s320/EKpowderhorn.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Edward (l) and Kenneth </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
No sooner did I arrive at the top of the hill for my first descent, than these two <strike>little monsters</strike> young imps pushed off down the corkscrew trail on the other side of the hill!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5bgnuxFwufE/T0REVC_Kt5I/AAAAAAAAATU/u2a9F9Ilf2E/s1600/KErun.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5bgnuxFwufE/T0REVC_Kt5I/AAAAAAAAATU/u2a9F9Ilf2E/s320/KErun.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
Unruffled, I simply made it my business to <strike>badger</strike> offer Scott some tips on skiing technique before launching myself down the hill.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-piCG4J3DQzs/T0REKcq5ztI/AAAAAAAAAS0/bZc_Ii_wbyU/s1600/reneetipsscottpowderhorn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-piCG4J3DQzs/T0REKcq5ztI/AAAAAAAAAS0/bZc_Ii_wbyU/s320/reneetipsscottpowderhorn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Later, the boys and I met on top of an even higher run, where I once again shared my helpful hints:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D-8iLFG8wdQ/T0RENufseCI/AAAAAAAAAS8/di8GGYO1bjk/s1600/reneetipspowderhorn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D-8iLFG8wdQ/T0RENufseCI/AAAAAAAAAS8/di8GGYO1bjk/s320/reneetipspowderhorn.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I think it is safe to say that, thanks to my knowledgable presence, everyone had a wonderful time!<br />
<br />
*Not that this ever happened to me, of course.<br />
<br />
**Technically, this means that I slid off the ramp after sitting down hard on my skis and could not get up again. However, this is very difficult to do! (I got the hang of the lift exit maneuver <strike>eventually</strike> soon after!)NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-80668152813571734872012-02-20T08:07:00.001-06:002012-02-20T08:07:14.520-06:00Ski WeekendYes, of course it is going perfectly well. Why do you ask?NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-77941983260801068722012-02-18T09:01:00.001-06:002019-03-10T09:15:27.180-05:00Winter Adventure, Winter Torture?Those in the know are well aware that I am nothing if not a faithful correspondent. A few people complain that I do not write posts often enough, and although I am never one to point to the failings in others, it behooves me to mention that "faithful" is not a synonym for "frequent". So, let us not have any more of this complaining!<br />
<br />
It has been a long, miserable winter so far. True, it has been one of the mildest winters on record for our region, with temperatures 20 or more degrees above normal and sunshine nearly every day, but the fact remains that January is the most dark and depressing month of the year and I feel we are well shot of it. Besides, I am not sure why we are expected to be thankful for milder temperatures and sunshine in January! The milder temperatures were hardly tropical! Rather, it was only mild enough to prevent any snow from falling - and snow is the one thing that can brighten the landscape (and the spirits!) in the dark of winter. I, for one, would have preferred temperatures ten degrees colder and plenty of snowstorms to liven things up around here!<br />
<br />
Speaking of snow, however, I am happy to report that <strike>Scott</strike> I came up with the perfect mid-winter getaway! We would pack up the boys and their snowboards and Scott's skis and drive to a Michigan ski resort for the long winter weekend! Just the tonic for the winter blahs! It is true that I haven't been on skis since I was fourteen, but I have seen plenty of TV and movies featuring the idyllic ski vacations of people just like me - glorious mountainsides, glittering sunshine through towering pines, hot rum toddies sipped by a crackling fireplace inside a luxurious hilltop chalet overlooking the dazzling slopes. Oh yes, I know all about it and I could not wait to set off!<br />
<br />
We left yesterday morning, full of good cheer and confident that, although it was dull, brown and deadly at home, there would be cooler temperatures and bright snow up north. Sure enough, the snow started to fly as if on cue just about 100 miles north of home, and by the time we arrived at the resort, we were driving in a veritable Christmas Card scene. TITK understand that I am nothing if not a nature-lover, so this scene was a balm to my weary spirit, indeed.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GKWLiyB8djg/Tz-7NTnvx3I/AAAAAAAAASU/Q-0j3__Ha9s/s1600/rustickitchen" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-GKWLiyB8djg/Tz-7NTnvx3I/AAAAAAAAASU/Q-0j3__Ha9s/s200/rustickitchen" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rustic kitchen</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The snow fell thickly all afternoon and evening, which was all very nice. Although I do wonder sometimes why the sky gods always seem to send either too little or too much of a good thing! It would have been fine if our lodgings had been at all <strike>as I had imagined based upon movies and tv shows </strike> as advertised! Sure, there is a fireplace (or a wood stove, to be precise) and yes there is a view over the glistening slopes, but I want to know why these northern, woodsy vacation spots always have to make everything so <i>very</i> northern and woodsy!<br />
<br />
Let me be perfectly frank. Whenever one hears the phrase "rustic charm", one must understand that one is hearing an oxymoron. A place that is truly rustic, is rustic full stop. Unlike in the movies, where "rustic charm" means a little northwoods decor is draped around accommodations so luxurious one could transfer them to Beverly Hills without anyone noticing - hence, I presume, the source of the delusion that rustic and charm ever belong in the same phrase together - the true ski chalet is actually rustic. <br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S50w8CheJmg/Tz-7QEcDLSI/AAAAAAAAASc/v4uEiyuPh1g/s1600/rusticlivingroom" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S50w8CheJmg/Tz-7QEcDLSI/AAAAAAAAASc/v4uEiyuPh1g/s200/rusticlivingroom" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rustic living room</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The main feature of "rustic" is wood. Woods outside the chalet (fine), wood piled up beside the chalet for the woodstove (fine, and useful too), and wood panelling on every possible surface, wall, doorway and cupboard (oh, my eyes!), except for the one place where wood would have been welcome, which is the floor. There, you will find shag carpet and linoleum painted to look like ceramic tile. While this is all very servicable, I must insist that we call a spade a spade and admit that there is no "charm" in rustic, unless "charm" means useful, servicable and adequate (but not beautiful).<br />
<br />
In all other respects, I am prepared to admit that the lodgings are
more than adequate and indeed quite cozy, because (as Those in the Know
can attest) I am the epitome of gracious flexibility. Scott and I sent
the boys off for an afternoon on the hill, while we went off to rent ski
equipment for me.<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DyRvlSN1tuI/Tz-7RqatXCI/AAAAAAAAASk/2wjx99yIvWg/s1600/rusticlivingroom2" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-DyRvlSN1tuI/Tz-7RqatXCI/AAAAAAAAASk/2wjx99yIvWg/s200/rusticlivingroom2" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rustic fireplace</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
I may not have been on skis in
almost 40 years, but I understand from the expert in the pro shop that
it is "just like riding a bike - you never forget". This would be far
more encouraging news had I not, in fact, definitely forgotten how to
ride a bike (and no, I am not interested in discussing the embarrassing
circumstances under which this fact became apparent to <strike>all</strike> me). Nevertheless, I am nothing if not <strike>foolhardy</strike>
courageous, so I laughed in hearty agreement and declined the free
beginner ski lessons on offer. Who has time to waste on the bunny hill?<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
So,
this morning, we are all up bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and ready to
hit the slopes! I am looking forward to a glorious day swishing down
the sun-speckled trails and speeding down the wide hills. Look out ski
world, here I come!!NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-69104397501435458712012-01-06T10:56:00.006-06:002012-01-06T11:05:26.351-06:00Ring in the New Year! Review the Old Year!Before any of you decide to wax pedantic, unnecessarily pointing out that it is already January 6th, let me say, "Pooh, pooh!" It is the last day of Christmas, so a perfectly legitimate time to begin a New Year's post. Those in the Know™ understand that I am the soul of patience (not to mention propriety), but there are times to remain silent on the inadequacies of others and this is one of them!<br />
<br />
My first thought when planning this post was to create a masterpiece of beauty and wit (as usual), airily and effortlessly touching on the highlights of 2011, and generally presenting a year-end roundup which would educate and delight my <strike>many</strike> <strike>several</strike> <strike>one or two</strike> <strike>non-existent</strike> followers. <strike>After staring at the blank screen for 20 minutes,</strike> Eventually, I realized that such grandiose plans are just <strike>beyond my capabilities</strike> silly, so I have revised my thinking. I intend to bash out a quick overview of the past year in my usual <strike>haphazard </strike> happy fashion and simply <strike>get the damn thing over with, finally break through the writer's block and call it a day</strike> keep it short and sweet!<br />
<br />
-----------------------? <br />
<br />
Writing about the year is <strike>too hard</strike> too boring, so instead I will post a little photo montage for your viewing pleasure!<br />
<br />
-----------------------?<br />
<br />
Hmmm, well it seems we have a slight problem. I seem to have forgotten to organize and label <strike>virtually all</strike> some of the photos from <strike>forever</strike> last year, so I am afraid the photo montage will have to wait for<strike>ever</strike> a while. Oh well, who cares? Photos and year-end roundups are vastly overrated anyway! I am sure that TITK will heartily agree with me! The important thing is <strike>that I just cough up a few hundred words so I can say I posted on the blog</strike> that I have touched base with my faithful blog friends!<br />
<br />
Why bore everyone with well-written and amusing essays when the real question is what happened in 2011? With this important focus in mind, here is the year 2011 <i>chez Nifty</i> in review - in bullet points:<br />
<br />
- January: Rang in the New Year with all hands on deck and possibly a record-breaking party turnout. Wedding preps shifted into mid-gear. Reception venue fell through with spectacular suddenness, but Yours Truly saved the day, as usual. Kiki began her Masters in Journalism.<br />
<br />
- February: Scott and twins went to Powderhorn in Michigan to ski and decided it might be a nice annual trip. Yours Truly stayed home to <strike>write</strike> get a few things done around the house. <br />
<br />
- March: Wedding preps shifted into high gear. One near-disaster after another, <strike>usually caused</strike> neatly thwarted by Your Dependable Servant. All to Hilton Head at various intervals for March Breaks - joined by Deb - hooray!<br />
<br />
- April: Enjoyed an Easter visit with Dennis's parents. Wedding preps train sped toward grand finale in June.<br />
<br />
- May: Jessie and Jack returned from university. Jack considered transferring out of Chicago. Your Faithful Scribbler kept the wedding train <strike>careening wildly from crisis to crisis</strike> on track. Everyone else was useless.<br />
<br />
- June: Numerous friends and family members converged on our home for the Wedding of the Century. <strike>The whole family</strike> Your Exhausted Correspondent managed to pull everything off smoothly. <strike>Thanks to</strike> No thanks to <strike>Scott, Kiki, Dennis, Jessie, Rachel and many other dear family and friends</strike> the rest of the useless louts around here.<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"></td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
- June: Retired to Hilton Head for much-deserved (by Your Humble Servant, certainly!) vacation. Joined by our dear friends the Roths. I never complain, but it was deucedly hot in South Carolina last June! <br />
<br />
- July: Spent first two weeks in Hilton Head, then returned to Illinois where, as far as I can tell, we did absolutely nothing for about 4 weeks.<br />
<br />
- August: Hilton Head for one brief week again, then back to school for everyone. Jack transferred to Miami. Jessie began her senior year at Miami. Edward and Ken back to school as sophomores.<br />
<br />
- September: Jeanne and I went to Hilton Head for our annual R&R sans annoying families.<br />
<br />
- October: Scott took boys to BVI for a sailing weekend while I went back to HH to host the Ya Yas shopping extravaganza. Very quiet Hallowe'en this year - major downside of children growing up. :(<br />
<br />
- November: Scott and I went back to HH yet again for our 27th anniversary. Jeanne came to stay with the boys. Thanksgiving with a wonderfully full house. Jessie brought her new puppy, Ducky.<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LkKocFU2Z-A/TwcnMIiKqKI/AAAAAAAAARk/oY1Bjkxp3tQ/s1600/CartoonDucky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LkKocFU2Z-A/TwcnMIiKqKI/AAAAAAAAARk/oY1Bjkxp3tQ/s320/CartoonDucky.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This photo has not been posted to raise viewcount.</td></tr>
</tbody></table><br />
- December: Went to Chicago for the annual pre-Christmas shopping/dining event. Then home for a full house at Christmas and yet more visitors (Em, Gail and Deb) for New Years. New Years Eve party with neighbors and friends not a record-breaker but decent 50-60 guest turnout.<br />
<br />
And there you have the year in review! <br />
<br />
And there is my blog post! <strike>Thank the stars!</strike> Don't mention it.<br />
<div style="text-align: right;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><br />
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<span id="goog_1039113701"></span><span id="goog_1039113702"></span>NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-48897746170569539432011-11-03T10:20:00.001-05:002012-04-15T17:34:52.320-05:00Four Hundred Twenty-Five Words<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kQezce4_cms/T4tL31hYepI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/MT-YBWUMRkk/s1600/frustrated-writer-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-kQezce4_cms/T4tL31hYepI/AAAAAAAAA9Y/MT-YBWUMRkk/s400/frustrated-writer-2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Actor portraying Your Capable Correspondent on a difficult day</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
Do you see what I did there?<br />
<br />
Obviously, I would never pad my <strike>pitiful</strike> premium-quality manuscript by using double names (the character of Mary Ann clearly requires that name, and was not chosen because every time her name is typed I get two words for one. Please, the very idea!), or by writing out words for simple numbers which are conventionally written as numbers (which, by the way, the Powers that Be of the word processing world have diabolically rendered <i>non-words</i> when calculating word counts! Those villains!).<br />
<br />
So, yes, my manuscript is currently only 425 words in length, which some might say means it is hardly in existence at all. Those in the Know, however, are well aware of the magic that Your Faithful Scribbler can create out of 425 words! A mere kernel of a story, to be sure, but never forget my friends: <u>War and Peac</u>e was once a manuscript of only 425 words!<br />
<br />
Besides, I have a very good reason for this slow start <strike>apart from my usual laziness, procrastination and lack of talent</strike> quite apart from my usual busyness, industry and brilliance needing to be applied in other arenas (I am, you ought to recall, a <i>very busy woman</i>™!): yesterday, I was summoned to the big city for my citizenship interview!<br />
<br />
I am thrilled to report that I passed with flying colors! I am nothing if not modest, but TITK will not be surprised to hear that the officer who interviewed me practically asked, "What took you so long?". Actually, she did, literally, ask me "What took you so long?".<br />
<br />
I was immensely flattered, of course, that the United States of America was so eager to welcome me as a citizen (although obviously, Those in the Know are probably not surprised at all - I simply do not realize my own value!), but I gently wagged a finger at her and smilingly reminded her that I am a Very Busy Woman™. As much as I try to fulfill the hopes and expectations of my legions of admirers (including, it now turns out, the United States of America itself!), from time to time I must put aside the wishes of others and devote myself to <strike>wasting time, procrastinating and endlessly putting things off which ought to have been done years ago</strike> other stuff.<br />
<br />
The officer looked taken aback - as well she should have been! I am the last person to point to the shortcomings of others, but - while TITK will completely understand her excitement at having me as a fellow citizen at long last - how could she not have known how <strike>lazy</strike> busy I always am? She repeated the question - a little testily, I might add*.<br />
<br />
I replied truthfully (of course) that, since I have three children who likewise were not born in this great country, I waited until the last of them had gained the age of majority before applying for citizenship myself, thus preventing them from acquiring automatic citizenship through me and allowing them to consciously choose citizenship for themselves as adults. I am sure everyone will agree with me that a momentous decision such as choosing to become a citizen of this great country ought to be a conscious and enthusiastic one made by informed adults. Sure, it would have been easier to have saved my children the trouble when they were younger, but it is a responsibility that I am sure they will claim joyfully. <br />
<br />
The interview moved along swiftly after that. I even managed to give the officer some helpful hints for decorating her office in a more elegant and inviting manner, although I must say she was not as appreciative of my efforts as one might have expected. Perhaps it was merely an unfortunate natural expression, but she looked <strike>utterly nonplussed</strike> somewhat confused ( clearly, a difficulty which might have been considerably ameliorated had she the benefit of my advice years ago and beautified her surroundings which would have promoted a restful and composed attitude at all times). Oh well, c'est la vie! One can only offer! The interview concluded rather abruptly shortly thereafter, and I was escorted out to the waiting area with a haste which I thought was entirely unnecessary.<br />
<br />
Since I was in the city, I had made arrangements to meet Kiki for lunch, so I sent her a little flurry of texts letting her know I was ready, where I was, how poorly decorated the federal offices were, how annoying the construction out on the city streets was, and various other <strike>irritating interruptions to her day </strike> delightful details about my day until she texted me back <strike>begging me to stop!</strike> inviting me to come to meet her as she was still at work. <strike>How exasperating! </strike> How nice!<br />
<br />
I must say, my talented and industrious daughter has a very impressive job at a bookstore right in the very heart of the city. While I waited for her to finish her shift, I made it my business to point out to the other customers that the paragon of wit and intelligence manning the information desk was my own amazing offspring. I am pleased to report that I saw Kiki's <strike>jaw drop in appalled embarrassment </strike>delighted smile of modest appreciation as her co-workers all looked on admiringly. This is the sort of motherly boost for which I am justly <strike>notorious</strike> famous!<br />
<br />
We had a wonderful lunch at a little Italian place near the store. Visits to the city are so invigorating! And visits with my daughter are the highlight of my month! But alas, it was soon time to head back home. <br />
<br />
Needless to say, after such a full day, writing of any description was totally out of the question. Sure, Kiki went on to write several thousand more words, even after a full shift at work, homework and probably a class or two, but I am a very busy woman and must pace myself!<br />
<br />
Today, I plan to move mountains! Good day to All!<br />
<br />
*The moment I become a citizen, Those in the Know can rest assured that I will waste no time before sending off a <strike>complaining</strike> helpful letter to our state senators and representatives. It is about time for the United States of America to enjoy the benefit of my wisdom and guidance! No need to thank me.NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-40580491663765777712011-11-01T13:03:00.000-05:002011-11-01T13:03:10.601-05:00278...words.<br />
<br />
Yes, you read that correctly. I expect the peanut gallery to maintain a dignified silence. Thank you.NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-42798551077219440612011-11-01T09:40:00.000-05:002011-11-01T09:40:46.391-05:00NanowrimoHere is the thing: it is not how <i>many</i> words one writes which is really important, it is the <i>quality</i> of those words which matter. Obviously, I could easily have flicked off 500-1000 sub-par words last night, as I am sure many Nanowrimo participants may have done, but for moi, it is more important to produce a superior piece of fiction. Those in the Know are quite familiar with my work ethic and my attention to detail. In short, I am a perfectionist and nothing but the best will do.<br />
<br />
All right, yes, it is true. I did not write a single word last night.<br />
<br />
This morning, however, is a different story! I already have 116 high-quality words on the word processor, which is obviously a win! From little acorns mighty oaks will grow and all that! NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-31820332040625288812011-10-31T12:24:00.000-05:002011-10-31T12:24:12.119-05:00Tonight at Midnight......writing of the great Can-Am novel will commence!<br />
<br />
Yes, it is that time of year again: Nanowrimo! Those in the Know will remember that every November, writers everywhere sharpen up their pencils and stack up reams of writing paper. Then, they flip open their laptops to tap out the immortal words of their literary masterpieces.<br />
<br />
Last year, I completed the required 50,000 words to win the competition and my triumph was duly recorded in this blog. Unfortunately, through no fault of my own, I neglected to actually finish the story itself. This could happen to anybody, of course. With holidays and <strike>lazing around wasting time</strike> other stuff, it was simply impossible to get back to work on it.<br />
<br />
This year, things are going to be different! I plan to outline the story today and begin the first 500 words tonight at the stroke of midnight! My goal this year is to finish a full rough outline of a complete story. I also plan to make the 50,000 word requirement, but the priority will be the story.<br />
<br />
It is going to be a very busy month! But Those in the Know already know that I am always up to a challenge!NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-7070979063168994272011-10-01T12:56:00.000-05:002011-10-01T12:56:32.396-05:00HomecomingRight out of the gate, I must <strike>complain</strike> comment on the <strike>stupidity</strike> mystery of today's Homecoming Race (cross country running) being held <b>not</b> at the park near school, <b>not</b> even <i>in town</i>, but in CHICAGO! What in the world?! I am the most easy-going of personalities, but somehow this seems inconvenient and illogical even to me! Nevertheless, I sent Edward off well-fed and well-primed <strike>to win!</strike> to do his best this morning. Well, in point of fact, Scott sent him off while I was still <strike>fussing with</strike> preparing my coffee. I laughingly told them to go on without me, but of course I did not mean that!<br />
<br />
I stepped outside into the glorious early morning sunshine just in time to see the back of the car as they sped off to meet the van which was taking Edward to the event. I was <strike>furious! </strike> flabbergasted! They were running a little late <strike>because I just had to have my coffee warmed up and mixed <i>just so</i> </strike> because Scott wasted a lot of time getting Edward his breakfast, but I really feel that some people could have waited a few more minutes!<br />
<br />
When I recovered from my <strike>explosion of fury</strike> momentary shock, I turned back to go inside and realized that I had locked myself out! This could happen to anyone, of course, although it does seem to happen to me with distressing frequency! I really must have a word with Scott because it is surely some fault with the lock mechanism. <br />
<br />
I am sure that the rest of today will go more smoothly. We have a lot to squeeze into a few short hours, but I am confident that I will be able <strike>to whip everyone into shape</strike> to help everyone to enjoy the day to the fullest! <br />
<br />
Tonight, the younger boys have the Homecoming Dance (for which I have already kitted them out with my usual flare!). That will come after the Homecoming Soccer game this afternoon, which Kenny will play. I plan to be there. After I take Jack shopping for winter essentials...how long could that possibly take? I will just nip out before to pick up the boys' trousers and corsages and then loop around to pick up Jack (he is at the alumni game now). The boys also need to meet at a friends' house at 3:30 for pictures, etc and have a dinner reservation for 4:45. It is Scott's birthday, too, and naturally <strike>I have not had a moment to even think about it</strike> I have everything in hand for a nice little birthday supper. No problem at all. I am sure there is time to do everything and to do it well! <br />
<br />
Perhaps it would be wise to make a To Do list just to be sure:<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>To Do</b></span><br />
<br />
1. 11:00 - Pay bills because leaving tomorrow for 2 weeks. (Ha! Done! I did it while online for car license stickers and booking hotel for tomorrow night on the road. I am amazing!)<br />
<br />
2. 11:00 - Pick up dress pants at Men's Wearhouse. (Leaving in a jiffy; it is in south part of town)<br />
<br />
3. 11:00 -Pick up corsages. (cleverly ordered several days ago, I can just nip over there while out; it is in east-central part of town, but that should only be 5-10 minutes' drive)<br />
<br />
4. 11:00-1:00 - Alumni Game. (obviously, I cannot make it, but Jack will be there!)<br />
<br />
5. 12:00- Take Jack for winter essentials after Alumni Game(must pick him up first at school in west-center of town, then go to mall at extreme east end of town; no problem as these locations are only 20-30 minutes apart).<br />
<br />
6. 12:00 - Allow at least 2 hours for shopping with Jack (no problem).<br />
<br />
7. 1:00- 3:30 - Soccer Game! Root for Kenny! <br />
<br />
8. 1:00- Pick up Edward. Take him to soccer field to join us watching game.<br />
<br />
9. 1:00 - Prepare an excellent lunch for my family. (Hmm. This might not work, as no one is home. Oh well).<br />
<br />
10. 1:00 - Shop for birthday supper ingredients. (I know this will be special!)<br />
<br />
11. 3:00 - Make sure both boys are showered and dressed for Homecoming pictures and evening of relaxed fun!<br />
<br />
12. 3:45 - Check watch as game inevitably goes into overtime, and have not left field yet to do items 2-11)<br />
<br />
13. 3:46 - Experience total meltdown.<br />
<br />
Hmmm...this is only a partial list and I am not quite sure if it will be possible to do the rest of the things on the list. However, as Those in the Know are well aware, I am nothing if not resourceful and creative. I am confident that <strike>Scott</strike> I will think of something! I may try to update later, but as you can surely gather, I am a <i>very busy woman</i>! I do not want to hear any whining!<br />
<br />
First thing's first. I think a nice cup of tea will fortify me for the busy day ahead. Oops! It is 1:00 now! I had better plug in the kettle quickly!<br />
<br />
Good Day to All!NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-71402416436063592842011-09-28T17:29:00.000-05:002011-09-28T17:29:51.796-05:00What a To Do!This week has not been going at all like I expected. My plan was to write every single day and to send a post out into the NiftyUniverse every day as well. So far, that plan has not come to fruition quite as I had envisioned and the reason is quite simple. I am <strike>a very lazy slacker!</strike> a very busy woman™! The only appropriate course of action is to make a To Do list at once:<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>To Do</b></span><br />
<br />
1. Make To Do list (excellent start)<br />
<br />
2. Start supper (chicken in oven as I write)<br />
<br />
3. Laundry (always a crowd-pleaser)<br />
<br />
4. Write blog post (some progress here)<br />
<br />
5. Write/edit current work in progress (who are we kidding?)<br />
<br />
6. Order Homecoming corsages for boys as requested (already done! I am amazing!)<br />
<br />
This is Spirit Week for the boys. "Spirit Week" refers to building school "spirit", and not, as <strike>I</strike> they had hoped, a week of ghosting and haunting and decorating for Hallowe-en and so forth which would at least have been <strike>fun for me!</strike> interesting! <strike>I </strike> They will have to wait until next month for that, I suppose. I am sure this <strike>misleadingly</strike> intriguingly named "Spirit Week" will still be <strike>pretty boring</strike> pretty enjoyable.<br />
<br />
Meanwhile, I really feel that two teenage boys could have made more of an effort to <strike>use all of my ideas for the week</strike> get more into the spirit of the week! Tuesday was called "Tacky Twin Day" (obviously, the school ought to have consulted me before settling on this name, but TITK™ know I never mention this sort of lapse), so naturally I advised the boys to go all out - choose matching outfits, wear the same colours, part their hair on the same side, and generally adopt all of the <strike>boring, predictable</strike> fresh, creative ideas their mother had suggested in order to <strike>win the contest!</strike> show their school spirit!<br />
<br />
My offspring is nothing if not <strike>cooperative</strike> obstructive. I had wisely counseled them to imitate Daryl, Daryl and Daryl of "Newhart" fame, as they would then have both the "tacky" and the "twin" elements sewn up! Sure, Daryl, Daryl and Daryl were not, in fact, twins (or triplets...nor any sort of multiples nor even brothers, possibly), but their similar (tacky) attire and similar names (!) would definitely fit the bill! <br />
<br />
After a moment of blank incomprehension - how could anyone not remember Daryl, Daryl and Daryl, (even if the show had been on the air nearly two decades before their birth?) How irritating! - Edward and Ken dutifully went upstairs to change into their oldest jeans and checkered shirts hanging open over thermal tees. They came down looking not one bit like Daryl, Daryl and Daryl, so I sent them back up. They returned still looking like their regular spiffy selves. I <strike>complained irritably</strike> remarked pointedly that they did not look like twins <i>at all</i> and for some reason, my monozygotic sons stared at me, seemingly nonplussed. I was <strike>furious! </strike> frustrated, understandably, but we had run out of time <strike>to the boys' immense relief</strike>, unfortunately. <br />
<br />
This is the sort of thing with which I must constantly contend, yet I am the soul of equanimity. Some days, I do not know how I do it.<br />
<br />
This morning, I found myself once again <strike>unable to resist interfering</strike> having to sort other people out, only this time it was not family members who required the guidance of Your Able Correspondent, but unexpected strangers. It may surprise Those in the Know to learn that I am frequently engaged in <strike>causing problems</strike> solving problems throughout the community, and this morning was no exception.<br />
<br />
Our local grocery store has apparently been taken over by lunatics! I arrived bright and early at 7:45 this morning to pick up a few staples for one of my world-famous casseroles, when I was rudely denied entry into the store! Sure, there was a sign outside saying "Re-opening at 8:00" and yes, the store had posted enormous banners, visible from the road 100 yards away, for weeks advising customers of an impending change of management involving two days closure for restocking, but I want to know why their housekeeping should cause so much inconvenience to <strike>me! </strike> customers! I was forced to drive around the block <strike>about 100 times</strike> a few times while peering toward the store each time I passed to see if the "Re-opening at 8:00" sign had been removed yet.<br />
<br />
<strike>As soon as I saw the officious young man who had prevented me from entering the store remove the sign, I veered sharply across the lanes of traffic and screeched into the store parking lot</strike> Eventually, I deemed it late enough to return, so I carefully proceeded into the parking lot and made my way sedately to the door. Once inside the premises, I am sorry to report that the place was <strike>amazingly well-organized, given that the staff had had only 48 hours to completely empty and restock the shelves </strike> incredibly disorganized, considering that the staff had had <strike>weeks</strike> <strike>days</strike> <strike>a few days</strike> <strike>who cares?</strike> some time - and certainly had used up a portion of my valuable time this morning - to restock the shelves and restore order. <br />
<br />
I hurried up and down the aisles in my usual <strike>haphazard fashion </strike> orderly manner, <strike>impatiently nodding at everyone as they hastily scattered to get out of my path </strike> politely greeting everyone I met - isn't it interesting how people seem always to be running <i>against</i> the tide instead of <i>with</i> the tide of traffic? Every single person in that store was going the wrong way! but I am, naturally, too polite to point out their faults to strangers - and did my best to make sense of the newly arranged goods. While it is true that <strike>nothing at all</strike> not too much had changed except store brands, the general atmosphere in the place was <i>different</i> somehow, <strike>and I do not like change!</strike> but, I am nothing if not adaptable!<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, In the produce section, things were in shocking disarray. I helpfully instructed the stock clerk on where to place things while cleverly demonstrating the flaws in the design of his orange pyramid. The resulting citrus tsunami was totally unnecessary, of course, had he built the display properly in the first place. Obviously, had I been in charge over there, none of this nonsense would have occurred! <br />
<br />
The situation in the bulk foods aisle was hardly better. The coffee bean dispensers have clearly been tampered with by this new management outfit. I attempted to pour in 1/3 pound as I always do and at least 2 pounds exploded out of the bag <strike>as it always does</strike>! <strike>After kicking most of the spilled beans under the shelves </strike> After cleaning up as best I could, I put the bulging bag into my cart, found a clerk to whom I <strike>loudly complained</strike> gently alerted about problem in the bulk foods aisle, and made my way to the delicatessen. There, I was forced to have a word with the young woman at the delicatessen counter about the meager portions of their <strike>free</strike> samples. I was certainly relieved to see that we have not lost the Boar's Head brand in all this sweeping new broom business, but I felt it incumbent upon me to offer a timely tip: with all the to-do about changing management, what with closing for two days and inconveniencing <strike>me</strike> customers, now might be the ideal time to start offering <strike>me</strike> customers more generous samples.<br />
<br />
At the checkout, yet another inconvenient glitch in the store's operations awaited me. Those in the Know can surely imagine my <strike>exasperation!</strike> concern! The code reader would not read the bars for the coffee, and even when the clerk entered it in manually, there was no response from the computer. Spotting one of the roaming managers to whom I have often given a welcome word of advice, I <strike>summoned him imperiously</strike> called out cheerily and <strike>demanded</strike> requested a resolution to my problem <strike>at once !</strike> as quickly as possible. He came up with a solution very quickly indeed! He authorized the clerk to give me the coffee free of charge! Now that is service!<br />
<br />
The people at the store insisted on helping me out to my car with my bags, even though I only had two! This attentiveness to a valued customer is something that I hope they plan to continue! It may very well make up for their other shortcomings, although unless the deli samples are increased and the general disposition of the entire staff improves, I worry that it will be a long, difficult road ahead.<br />
<br />
Good Day to All!NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-54634345995053826222011-09-26T15:50:00.000-05:002011-09-26T15:50:21.189-05:00Rainy Monday in SeptemberGood Morning to all Those in the know!<br />
<br />
Actually, I would like to be able to sincerely say this is a good morning, but the glowering grey sky and steady, soaking rain that is falling have other ideas, I am afraid! It is really a bit much. Certainly, it is true that only the other day as <strike>Scott</strike> I was watering the parched plants in my flower pots, I was <strike>complaining bitterly</strike> musing contentedly that we have had an <strike>endless, miserable</strike> extended, lovely stretch of dry, sunny weather but the fact remains that one overnight of steady rainfall would have more than sufficed! <br />
<br />
We had a busy weekend here, what with one thing or another. On Saturday, Edward was running in a cross-country event just out of town at a very nice Forest Preserve. I like to go to my childrens' sports events <strike>if I have nothing better to do</strike> as often as I possibly can, and Saturday was no exception. <strike>Although, if I had known that it was going to be cold and drizzly, I might have thought twice about it! </strike>Even though it was cold and drizzly, I did not think twice about it! Obviously, a little discomfort would <strike>definitely</strike> never keep me away from cheering my son on in his race!<br />
<br />
I do have <strike>several </strike> one little <strike>complaint</strike> observation to make, however. I simply cannot understand why my Edward, clearly the most outstanding young man there that day, did not run away with the gold medal! He burst out of the starting lineup with a commanding lead, and I made sure that I was <strike>halfway onto the track, screaming instructions </strike> visible on the sidelines, cheering him on! As soon as he blew past us, I naturally began to hurry across the track to cheer him on at the first bend in the route as it doubled back through the woods. To be perfectly frank, I think the way that Scott yanked me back off the track<strike> before I caused a pile up of runners still to come</strike> was a unnecessarily abrupt. I was forced to really run to get to my next position in time to catch Edward and pass on the sterling motivational advice for which I am so famous. <br />
<br />
I am not sure that I will ever fully understand the teenage psyche. Edward began the race with all appearances of total enjoyment. Mind you, though I am always reluctant to point out the missteps of others, I am forced to say that it appeared that he was enjoying himself a little <i>too</i> much; trotting along smilingly and even chatting in a friendly fashion with <strike>his enemies</strike> his opponents when he ought to have been <strike>fiercely focused on winning at all costs</strike> properly focused on competing to the best of his ability, which would have ensured that he <strike>could have won!!!</strike> could have finished nearer to the top ten. I wish I had a photo to illustrate this point, but I was <strike>fortunately</strike> unfortunately without my camera on Saturday. <strike>BLAST!!</strike> Oh well. <br />
<br />
Anyway, I did what <strike>no</strike> any conscientious mother would do. I <strike>screamed diabolically</strike> shouted encouragement from the sidelines, practically <strike>knocked people over</strike> knocked myself out as I raced from one vantage point to the next from where I <strike>screeched, "Run 'em over, Edward!"</strike> called out, "Looking good, Edward!". Those in the Know are well aware that I am my childrens' biggest <strike>tormentor</strike> cheerleader, so you will not be surprised to learn that I received <strike>a dark look</strike> a bright smile from my athletic son as he flew past me. <strike>Undeterred</strike> Encouraged, I hurried to each vantage point along the course, <strike>crashing through the forest between race pathways with wild abandon, shrieking hysterically,</strike> <strike>"Mow 'em down, Edward!"</strike> making my way to the next checkpoint through the forest with care, shouting bracingly, "Keep up the good work, Edward!".<br />
<br />
In the end, Edward placed 26th, a result that I consider to be <strike>infuriating!</strike> pretty darn good! Those other runners <strike>just got lucky</strike> ran their hearts out, so I am able to accept the result <strike>begrudgingly</strike> with good grace. The parents of the top ten runners no doubt went around bragging in an unseemly fashion <strike>(as I would surely have done)</strike> (as I would never have done, obviously), but I am above that sort of thing. Anyway, who cares? Next race, <strike>we</strike> he will surely win!! With Your Faithful Scribe on the sidelines, cheering him on, TITK can be assured that Edward cannot <strike>avoid total humiliation</strike> fail!<br />
<br />
In other news, it is Spirit Week at the boys' school which means - yes, as usual - a great deal of work for Yours Truly! I am not one to complain, but Those in the Know ought to remember just how <strike>feckless and unreliable</strike> devoted and helpful I always am when it comes to the boys' school activities. As I believe I have mentioned before, I am always first in line to volunteer for <strike>the easiest jobs</strike> the most challenging and time-consuming jobs, although somehow I always <strike>manage to avoid doing anything at all </strike> manage to have a lovely time working with the young people! The boys <strike>hate it</strike> love it when I volunteer. Truly, volunteerism at one's children's school is something I heartily recommend! Your children will <strike>dread</strike> cherish every moment you spend in the school hallways, chatting with their classmates and sharing little bits of wisdom. My sons are so <strike>mortified </strike> proud of their "hip"* mom! So far, they haven't asked me to do anything this week, but I am sure they <strike>never will unless threatened</strike> will mention some important task soon!<br />
<br />
While I have several other topics I had planned to discuss today, I see that I have <strike>lost interest in writing, as usual </strike> run out of time, as usual. Never mind, my friends! I will <strike>probably</strike> definitely be back tomorrow! Until then,<br />
<br />
Good Day to All!<br />
<br />
* "Hip" is the groovy new lingo meaning cool, up-to-date, enviable, etc. In other words, <i>moi</i>. NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-27728765824007166592011-09-21T19:31:00.000-05:002011-09-21T19:31:33.300-05:00Efficient cars<div style="text-align: left;">Those in the Know will be surprised to learn that, from time to time, I have a <strike>deucedly hard time</strike> little trouble coming up with interesting ideas for blog posts. Naturally, since I lead an incredibly <strike>idle</strike> busy life, it is quite a challenge to find the time to post anything at all, but when I take on a challenge, I stick with it until I am able to present my loyal readers with a magnificent finished piece of solid blog gold. <strike>This morning, after a frustrating few hours alternately staring at a blank post window and idly websurfing </strike> This afternoon, after a busy few hours alternately delivering a tasty lunch to my boys at school and whipping my home into House Beautiful perfection, I have decided <strike>in desperation</strike> for fun to peruse the draft file I have here on the blog. <strike>Egad, I hope</strike> Perhaps I will find a little inspiration! Certainly, I do not expect to find many unfinished posts, since I am nothing if not reliably <strike>unproductive</strike> productive. Let me just take a quick gander inside the drafts folder....</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Great Scott!! There must be fifteen or twenty unfinished posts in there! What a lucky <strike>break</strike> surprise! I'll just pick one at random, dust it off and finish it right now!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Autumn 2010: </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">While I was in St John's recently, I noticed that the local mania for small cars has <strike>descended</strike> ascended to an entirely new level. Now, Those in the Know™ will confirm that I am the most <strike>conservation-illiterate</strike> conservation-minded person on the planet, so it is perfectly natural that I would be the <strike>last</strike> first to notice this trend. Actually, in St. John's, it has a long and colourful history, grounded in <strike>freakish idiosyncrasy</strike> creative frugality and <strike>bizarre eccentricity</strike> principled non-conformity.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><strike>One or two</strike> <strike>Some</strike> <strike>?</strike> Many Newfoundlanders care a great deal about energy efficiency, environmental friendliness and - quite frankly the <strike>only</strike> most pressing reason, in my opinion - maneuverability through the notoriously narrow and twisty streets of the oldest city in North America. For these reasons (not to mention a <strike>skinflinty</strike> thrifty streak running through the gene pool), the citizens of St. John's were light years ahead of their continental neighbours in embracing the smarter car concept decades ago.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">By the time the popularity of "sub-compact" cars began skyrocketing across the USA and mainland Canada in the fuel-strapped late 1970's, the highways and biways of Newfoundland - not to mention the labyrinthine lanes and alleys downtown in the old city - had already been teeming with Datsun B210s and Toyota Corollas for years. It goes without saying that the Volkswagon Beetle had been ubiquitous for decades. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">My own dear father owned an early model Datsun B210, which replaced the VW beetles he had had for years before it. It would not be overstating the case to say that he greeted the arrival of cars that were even more compact (and rumoured to be more efficient) than "the Volks" with irrepressible delight. The prospect of greater fuel efficiency naturally warmed the cockles of his thrifty heart, while the assurance that the newer, sleeker, sportier Datsun was both more nimble and peppier than the VW was no small matter.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Dad had eked out a parking spot down a steep alley between his office building and the next one. For years, he had cheerfully piloted the Beetle down that narrow, dog-legged canyon to park each morning and coaxed it back up the nearly perpendicular path out onto the busy road in front of his law chambers each night. This feat took more than a little gutsy determination! That VW boxer (or was it a wankle?) engine was not famous for its lightning-fast, powerful pick-up. To say the least. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I am not one who enjoys mentioning the flaws in beloved icons, but there are times when one must have the courage (and Your Faithful Scribbler is nothing if not <strike>choleric</strike> courageous!) to say the unpopular thing: the truth is, a Volkswagon starting out on a hill looks and sounds disconcertingly like a consumptive tortoise, shuffling and snuffling its way hesitantly forward, slipping back, surging ahead again, coughing and blaring flatulently all the way. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"> As a youngster, I always enjoyed being in the backseat for one of these noisy, fitful exits from that narrow, hidden alleyway. The spectacle of startled bystanders scattering like pigeons as the old Volks rumbled up the narrow driveway between the tall buildings and burst out onto the road, literally flying over the sidewalk at the top of the lane and shooting between the parallel-parked cars like a rotund rocket before thumping jarringly down and roaring away while Dad enthusiastically ground the gears was definitely worth any motion sickness guaranteed to come with the ride.</div><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R-MwmSU1Quk/TnpJiIggp8I/AAAAAAAAAQE/s1FLJ630yG8/s1600/VW-story.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="135" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-R-MwmSU1Quk/TnpJiIggp8I/AAAAAAAAAQE/s1FLJ630yG8/s200/VW-story.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(This is an expert re-enactment of Dad's flying beetle. Do not attempt this at home.)</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;"><strike>Sadly</strike> Fortunately , the Datsun eliminated most of the <strike>fun</strike> danger because it removed that <strike>delicious</strike> unnerving sense of uncertainty about whether or not we would actually make it up the impossibly steep, narrow lane. Also, that inscrutably quiet Japanese engine lacked - I am <strike>sorry to have to point this out</strike> happy to be able to point out- the dramatic flair for which the Beetle was so <strike>feared</strike> beloved by <strike>innocent bystanders</strike> people everywhere. The purring engine and smooth acceleration up the driveway eliminated any need to "make a run for it" - as Dad used to jovially call gunning the engine, releasing the handbrake with a jump, scrambling up the clifflike path and bursting out of the alley - like in the good old days. The bright yellow paint reflecting a glow ten feet in front of it on the brick walls of the alley alerted pedestrians on the sidewalk above of its approach long before they could <strike>enter the danger zone directly in its path</strike> find it necessary to scurry out of the way as in better times. Be that as it may, however, one must grant praise where praise is due. The Datsun <i>was</i> a fuel-sipper and it <i>was</i> rather sporty looking. </div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c1mrhs1VIrE/TnpKiE0NLNI/AAAAAAAAAQI/20JVHwhQdUA/s1600/datsun_b210_yellow_1975.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="130" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-c1mrhs1VIrE/TnpKiE0NLNI/AAAAAAAAAQI/20JVHwhQdUA/s200/datsun_b210_yellow_1975.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container"><tbody>
<tr></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here is a photo of a Datsun exactly like Dad's </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br />
</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(but clearly belonging to far less dignified people).<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: left;">Where was I going with this? It is not that I am forgetful or inclined to go off on tangents, it is simply that I am <strike>forgetful and inclined to go off on tangents</strike> a very busy woman and I <strike>have already</strike> sometimes <strike>lose interest, so I let my mind flit off to greener pastures </strike> have too many things on my mind at once. <strike>Who cares? Conservation, schmonservation!</strike> Of course I remember! Compact car mania!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Those in the Know can rest assured that Your Reliable Reporter has <strike>paid absolutely no attention</strike> kept carefully up to date on developments in the transportation industry since the glory days of the Volksy and the Datsun B210. However, even I have been <strike>struck speechless</strike> surprised by the most recent stage in the<strike> devolution</strike> evolution of vehicle efficiency: smart cars. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xV2nm2dU1zU/TnpanAfDdUI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/L-o26UEKndQ/s1600/fortwo-new.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="220" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xV2nm2dU1zU/TnpanAfDdUI/AAAAAAAAAQQ/L-o26UEKndQ/s320/fortwo-new.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">This vehicle reminds me of something, but what? Oh well, never mind - it is probably just another of my momentary <strike>lapses in concentration - good gracious will this post never end?</strike> flashes of brilliant inspiration. Let us carry on!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">These micro-sub-compact cars may be fuel-efficiency dreamboats, but<i> </i>their true genius lies in their undeniably compact size. Although it is true that a vehicle of these proportions could pose occupancy challenges for actual drivers or passengers, I would like to ask: what is mere comfort or convenience compared to fuel efficiency and maneuverability? I have a feeling Dad would have <strike>laughed at</strike> loved this car! He may not simply have <strike>laughed at</strike> loved it, I think he would have <strike>laughed first and later got in line to own one!</strike> been first in line to own one! My father was a forward-thinker as well as a very practical man. He would have loved the quirky unconventionality of this little rig just on principle, but I think he would really have warmed to its environmentally-friendly, money-saving credentials even more!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">That is my news about innovation in the car industry. As usual, Those in the Know need not thank me for bringing you up to date like this. I am nothing if not <strike>at least two years behind the times</strike> on top of developments in every sphere of human endeavor, and it is my little gift to the world to share my insights <strike>when I get around to it</strike> whenever I can.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Good Day to All!</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">Postscript: I simply cannot shake away a niggling feeling that I have seen this idea before. Obviously, as one who has always been <strike>blithely unaware of </strike> keenly interested in automobile trends, I am an enthusiastic supporter of the newest innovations, so perhaps I noticed it in a cutting edge science magazine some years ago? It would be <strike>impossible</strike> possible <strike>since I have never read such a thing</strike> if I had ever time to read such publications. Instead, as TITK are well aware, I have devoted my life to perfecting child-rearing and homemaking, which means that my magazines of choice were usually...</div><div style="text-align: left;">Oh yes. Now I remember! Dad would have howled...and bought one on the spot!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"> <a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jMeXO1L3KZ0/Tnpa2-1yBVI/AAAAAAAAAQY/-olUl9Foqfs/s1600/4855.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jMeXO1L3KZ0/Tnpa2-1yBVI/AAAAAAAAAQY/-olUl9Foqfs/s1600/4855.jpg" /></a></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
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</div>NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-4037800106669092852011-09-20T12:58:00.003-05:002011-09-20T13:07:30.085-05:00Too Busy!!Good Morning to all Those in the Know!<br />
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My post today will have to be brief. Obviously, I am <strike>never</strike> always prepared to make the necessary effort to produce a great post, but I am a very busy woman™ and today that is more true than ever!<br />
<br />
Consider this To Do list:<br />
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1. Laundry (I want to know why, when I go on vacation, the laundry does not take care of itself?)<br />
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2. Bills (Ditto)<br />
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3. Fight with university about bogus billing (I'll get right to that - in a moment)<br />
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4. Start supper (I am the queen of culinary delights!)<br />
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5. Write blog post (always job #1!)<br />
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6. Work on great Can-Am novel (definitely going to put in a few hours on this today!)<br />
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Oops! It looks like the jobs order is a little whacky there this morning. Obviously, item #5 ought to be item #1, but the truth is that the only item I have begun yet today is laundry, which is number one on the To Do list for this reason. However, writing the blog post is <i>always</i> job #1, so we have a slight conflict of priorities here.<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1OQOpAhwJ-A/TnizI0MB7eI/AAAAAAAAAPo/D806kKPhFlk/s1600/thought_balloon_hmmmm_hg_clr_answer_2_xlarge.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1OQOpAhwJ-A/TnizI0MB7eI/AAAAAAAAAPo/D806kKPhFlk/s320/thought_balloon_hmmmm_hg_clr_answer_2_xlarge.gif" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
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Never mind. I always feel that too strict a reliance on lists and "priorities" can interfere with the creative process. I am sure that Those in the Know will agree! I will get to the items on the list <strike>in my own sweet time, thank you very much!</strike> in my usual efficient way!<br />
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I just got off the phone with Scott. He is away at the moment, as he so often is just when I need a break! Sure, I have just returned home from a week at the beach, but I really feel that one ought to be able to expect a few days of buffer time in which to smoothly take up the reins of duty once more. Your Dutiful Scribe had no such luxury! I came home <strike>to a thoroughly cleaned and tidy house and a home-cooked meal</strike> and immediately <strike>was enfolded in warm hugs, handed a glass of wine and asked about my vacation</strike> had to <strike>laugh, catch up, and admire the sparkling house and handsome, dear faces of my husband and youngest sons</strike> step back into my duties as wife and mother <i>extraordinaire*. </i>Some days, I ask myself how I manage to do it all.<br />
<br />
But, to return to my point. Scott and I were chatting as I was putting through load after load of laundry and he was, no doubt, <strike>preparing to face a very demanding and draining day</strike> doing something or other. When I mentioned that perhaps I would just skip a day of posting on the blog - after all, it is only <i>one day</i>! I am renowned for my work ethic, but even a Faithful Recorder such as myself needs a break now and then - he seemed appalled! I am not one to shine the spotlight on the indelicacies of others, but I can hardly be expected to hide the fact that my spouse appears to <strike>believe in me even when I can hardly believe in myself</strike> expect that I should move mountains every day when even I know I can probably only move mountains every other day, as a general rule.<br />
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To add to the pressure, my <strike>devious tormentor</strike> delightful partner in life has declared that he expects me to put my writing before everything else, <i>every single day</i>. Even before <strike>NCIS!</strike> chores! The <strike>delights </strike>drudgery of <strike>flipping idly through magazines, watching HGTV and surfing the web </strike> planning carefully nutritious menus, folding laundry and managing a busy household must be put on the back burner, and a serious effort made to produce the great Can-Am novel!<br />
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<strike>I am</strike> He is quite determined, and <strike>he is</strike> I am ever the devoted and agreeable spouse, so I will naturally make the necessary changes to the To Do list:<br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: large;">To Do</span></b><br />
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1. Write blog post (now, that is more <i>like</i> it!)<br />
<br />
2. Laundry (consider the 3 loads already in progress as a bonus...I am out of there!)<br />
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3. Bills (that is ridiculous! Everyone knows that incredibly talented, struggling writers never pay bills!)<br />
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4. Start supper (Who can cook when literary history is being made? Takeout, bien sûr!)<br />
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5. Work on the great Can-Am novel (definitely as soon as this blog post is up, or at least soon after!)<br />
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That is all there is time for today, Dear Readers. Good day to All!<br />
<br />
* Another bon môt from moi to you. It is, of course, French for truly remarkable, extraordinary, wonderful in every way. In other words: Nifty.<br />
Don't mention it.NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-47164480215973269812011-09-19T14:59:00.001-05:002011-09-19T17:09:35.308-05:00The Annual Vacation With Jeanne I have just returned from my annual trip to Hilton Head with my dear friend, Jeanne, and I am <strike>poisoned that it ended so soon!</strike> highly motivated to get back to work! <strike>I am</strike> Jeanne is convinced that if I write every single day without fail for fourteen days, <strike>I will produce several masterpieces of prose that will stun the blogoshere!</strike> I will establish a work habit that may actually stick! Therefore, in my usual energetic style, I am getting straight to work. If I fail, I will only have <strike>Jeanne</strike> myself to blame!<br />
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First, however, I need a cup of coffee. Also, a bit of breakfast. I will definitely postpone web-surfing and a shower until after I post, reserving them as rewards for a job well done! Naturally, I do not actually require an incentive to produce a few hundred words. I am an artist and a philosopher! The words simply flow. Why, the real challenge is to find the time to direct the veritable flood of <strike>nonsense</strike> wisdom and <strike>bile</strike> wit onto the screen! With that thought in mind, I shall get right down to business writing about my trip, as soon as I have had a quick peek at Facebook. This is not procrastination, it is research. I expect Those in the Know to understand this sort of thing.<br />
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The trip itself <strike>could have been better</strike> could not have been better. Although, there were one or two small annoyances which could have been avoided if <strike>I</strike> Jeanne had arrived more prepared to go with the flow. Take, for example, beach chairs: there are two very nice ones at the house which have served our purposes quite well for years. <strike>Jeanne</strike> I was perfectly content with them, but <strike>I</strike> Jeanne began to fidget and fuss almost from the first moment we set them up on the beach. Nothing would do but that we find better ones!<br />
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Off we marched to the store - well to several stores because it is after-season, of course, and few merchants still had any beach chairs in stock. As our beach time ticked away, I dragged Jeanne from pillar to post. <strike>I </strike>We eventually had to settle for an inferior brand of chair (though, thankfully, they were clearance priced! I am nothing if not a savvy shopper!), I did, however, find a nifty little folding lounger which was really what I wanted all along, although I did not know it before we set off! It is so satisfying when things work out so pleasantly! Mind you, it would have been far more pleasant if that shopping expedition had not gobbled up half the morning! I am nothing if not adaptable, but there really is a limit!<br />
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After wasting a couple of precious hours of beach time in that manner, you can imagine that I was <strike>fit to be tied</strike> anxious to get back to the beach. Jeanne was <strike>very slow</strike> resigned, but <strike>slow!</strike> chipper, and we returned home with the -really, definitely inferior! - new chairs, which <strike>I </strike>we promptly shoved into the storage closet. Picking up the original chairs, we eventually made our way back to the surf and the sand. <br />
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At the beach, it took only a moment for <strike>Jeanne</strike> us to settle, although I must say it is certainly lucky that <strike>Jeanne is</strike> I am so easy-going. It is so annoying how one can only ever seem to tan on one side when sitting at the beach. I said to Jeanne as she brought me a bottle of water, "It is really too much! I have a lovely golden tan on the front but am pale as a ghost on the back! This beach sunbathing is for the birds!". With that, I began to <strike>scramble awkwardly</strike> rise up gracefully out of my beach chair (wretched thing! we really need new ones!), <strike>intending to stride straight back to the villa in disgust</strike>, when Jeanne reminded me to try the new folding lounger I had just purchased. Of course I <strike>had already</strike> had not forgotten! That is exactly what I had intended to do!<br />
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I set up the lounger in a few inches of water so that I might be able to trail my fingers in the foaming surf as the gentle waves rose and fell along the shoreline. It was all very much like in a movie and, to be perfectly frank, it was <strike>not even remotely possible</strike> not difficult to imagine Yours Truly as the heroine of "From Here to Eternity". The entire effect was quite lovely, if short-lived, and I must really protest that a real friend would have given me warning of the incoming rogue wave. I prefer not to mention the shortcomings of others, but suffice to say that after I had picked myself up and mopped the soaked hair out of my face, I was forced to point out to Jeanne that she ought to have her sunglasses made as bifocals as her eyesight is evidently failing fast. Soon after, I quitted the beach for a much-deserved cup of tea back at the house. Jeanne opted to remain in her chair reading, serenely twirling her toes in the sand while the gentle surf lapped coolly around her ankles. How <strike>irritating!</strike> nice for her!<br />
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I am not one to complain, as TITK™ are well aware, but I really feel that when one makes the effort to plan a beach vacation, the weather gods should, at the very least, provide the superb weather that any reasonable person ought to be able to expect. In that regard, I am sorry to report that we were sadly disappointed. It is true that the sun shone brightly for five glorious days out of the six, but I want to know why it always has to be cloudy and chilly on the last full day of vacation? <strike>I was furious!</strike> Jeanne was pretty disappointed. <strike>She</strike> I did <strike>her</strike> my best to cheer <strike>me</strike> her up, but <strike>I</strike> she was out of sorts all day.<br />
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Most of the week passed in this <strike>disagreeable</strike> agreeable fashion. I am <strike>the essence of discontentment</strike> the epitome of congeniality in a traveling companion and Jeanne is <strike>the epitome of congeniality</strike> pretty good company, usually. I <strike>complained constantly</strike> provided constant stimulating conversation, while Jeanne <strike>fetched, carried, cooked and cleaned</strike> lazed about enjoying a well-deserved break. It was all very nice until the drive home when, I have to admit, Jeanne did let down the side a little. I pulled out all the stops to make the journey enjoyable, but this was where the limit of her perfections as a guest became sadly apparent.<br />
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On the drive down, for Jeanne's express entertainment (note: I require no distractions while driving - actually, I prefer no distractions at all while driving to be at my best; in point of fact, if anyone in the vehicle so much as whispers one word to me while I am driving, we are apt to wind up in a ditch - but I am otherwise a superb driver!), I played several CDs which are <strike>my</strike> proven favorites. I really feel that 3 CDs is a perfectly adequate selection of music for an eleven-hour car trip, especially because the mixed artist CD was full of <strike>my favorites!</strike> classics which can be enjoyed over and over <strike>and over and over and over </strike> again! Jeanne did not appreciate my thoughtfulness nearly as much as I had expected, however, so we made a trip to Barnes and Noble on the island and purchased several more CDs for the return trip. <br />
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I will not belabor the point, but let me just say that I did my best to keep Jeanne entertained throughout the drive, and I assure you that singing along with ABBA and the POLICE and THE BEATLES at the top of one's voice for eleven straight hours is no drive down easy street! Fortunately, I am an excellent singer - whatever some may say that I lack in musicality, I more than compensate for in volume - and I happen to know all of the words of all of the songs on every album I have ever owned off by heart. This is why playing CDs several times through on every road trip is so helpful! I am not saying that Jeanne is unimaginative, but it would not have hurt her to consider this aspect of the situation before she complained to Walter at the end of the trip about not having spoken a single word all day. Although <strike>I always talk incessantly</strike> we always chat pleasantly while Jeanne drives, for some reason she <strike>could not get me to give up the wheel</strike> chose not to drive last Saturday. Anyway, who cares? I did the best any good friend could do and that is the end of the subject.<br />
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On that note, I must get busy here! The boys have an orthodontist appointment soon and good heavens! I forgot to get supper ready!<br />
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Good day to all!NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-19227527666037280872011-07-21T13:32:00.001-05:002011-07-21T13:53:04.197-05:00What Do You Mean, Where Have I Been?In case any of you were wondering, I have been here, there and everywhere! And, in case any of you had forgotten, I am a <i>very busy woman™</i>!!<br />
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Nevertheless, I am nothing if not <strike>a slacker</strike> accommodating, so of course while I am <strike>irritated</strike> pleasantly surprised by the <strike>lack of</strike> interest, I am, as always, delighted to provide another blog post. I will endeavor to recap the past couple of months for the reading pleasure of all Those in the Know™. <br />
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I am <strike>pretty sure</strike> convinced that it hasn't been all that long since I posted last. Surely, I posted about the Royal Wedding (though why I bothered, I cannot tell you, since the Powers That Be dropped the ball there on the invitation for Yours Truly) in April. Oh, hold on a moment: I see that I did not, in fact, publish that <strike>rant</strike> post due to <strike>my utterly foul-humoured fit of pique</strike> the uninteresting nature of the subject. Suffice to say that TITK™ need look no further than my blog for a recount of the true Wedding of the Century: the wedding of my daughter, Katherine!<br />
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Actually, TITK™ <i>could</i> look no further than my blog for that masterful account but you may not have any luck finding it....yet! I have simply been <strike>so lazy!</strike> so busy! Who has time to finish blog posts when one is joyfully occupied with arranging and hosting the most highly anticipated event of the <strike>season</strike> <strike>year</strike> <strike>decade</strike> century!! Never mind Catherine Middleton; the only truly riveting bride this year was <i>our</i> Katherine, beautiful daughter of Your Faithful Scribe! Look for that wonderful post <strike>eventually</strike> soon!<br />
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Another post that I <strike>flaked out on before finishing</strike> am sure I put up here was about our latest renovation. We had hoped to be finally finished with all renovations on this <strike>money pit</strike> house. Not, I hasten to clarify, that there was no more work to be done. I imagine that if one were willing to continue to pour money, building materials and blood, sweat and tears into this <strike>hell hole</strike> house, one could find endless new things to renovate. It was just a question of when to accept defeat and to declare it "good enough". By "good enough", mind you, I really do mean <i>good enough</i> and not "barely fit for human habitation" on the one extreme (it is better than that, bien sûr*) or "described with false modesty, but actually palatial" on the other. The state of this house at the moment is "good enough", but only after the last, unavoidable renovation.<br />
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However, that is much too long a story to get into on a blog post designed to bring TITK™ up to date on my marvelous life. Stay tuned for the renovation-specific posting which will <strike>possibly</strike> surely follow <strike>eventually - maybe</strike> within the next couple of days! As I have mentioned before, I am a very busy woman, so I will brook no complaints.<br />
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Following the Wedding of the Century, we naturally <strike>slipped into a temporary semi-coma</strike> took it a little easier for the next couple of weeks before embarking on our annual summer road trip to South Carolina. Actually, by "we" I should really clarify that it was Yours Truly who actually did the road trip - with six delighted passengers <strike>enduring</strike> enjoying the entire experience! My <strike>better </strike> other half merely jetted in after a <strike>grueling</strike> refreshing little jaunt overseas for a few meetings and whatnot.<br />
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The road trip was very difficult for <strike>everyone but me</strike> me, but with my characteristic pleasantly competent manner, I managed to ensure that all arrived <strike>exhausted, frustrated and utterly fed up with me </strike> excited, fresh and completely ready for fun!! The blog post that I have been working on about the road trip and the vacation which followed will <strike>probably never be written</strike> no doubt be up for your viewing pleasure very soon! That little incident at the gas station in North Carolina may or may not be included. I really do not understand why people become so agitated about every little thing that happens! And those remarks about barely averted catastrophe <strike>while true</strike> were, in my opinion, totally uncalled for. Honestly, it could happen to anyone! I will preserve the dignity that others have unfortunately failed to display and say no more about it.<br />
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I had better close for now. As usual, I am much in demand! It was very challenging to even find the time to post this update, but in my usual thoughtful way, I have made the supreme effort in order to deliver the post to my <strike>non-existent</strike> legions of fans! Think nothing of it! <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fsX-ujOrKk4/TihvtQ9gX_I/AAAAAAAAAOI/WbX-mx5vT2Q/s1600/niftyisfifty.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="254" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fsX-ujOrKk4/TihvtQ9gX_I/AAAAAAAAAOI/WbX-mx5vT2Q/s400/niftyisfifty.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(Celebrating a recent occasion - not really important)<br />
<br />
* One of my legendary touches of sophistication for TITK™ who no doubt have sorely missed my helpful little pearls of wisdom! "Bien sûr" means "doggone right"! en français. You're welcome.<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-86523661301171481982011-03-19T17:43:00.001-05:002011-03-19T17:47:30.256-05:00Spring Break Begins!Good Afternoon to all Those in the Know! I know that it is surprising to hear from me in the afternoon; I normally write <s>whenever I get around to it </s> promptly every morning, but today was a necessary exception!<br />
<br />
It is the first day of the boys' spring break and we have had a simply marvelous day! We arose <s>disgustingly late</s> bright and early (<i>old</i> time (not DST) - which, let us be frank, is the only civilized time) to the cheering sight of spring sunshine and the <s>obnoxious racket</s> delightful symphony of birdsong!<br />
<br />
<s>I</s> We had several items left to do on our pre-spring break trip To Do list, which <s>Scott</s> we immediately began to tackle. Here is the list:<br />
<br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><b>To Do</b></span><br />
<br />
1. <s>Bills</s> (of course I <s>should have finished them</s> started them last week! Efficiency is my middle name!)<br />
<br />
2. <s>Cleaning</s> (the boys got down to work early-ish)<br />
<br />
3. <s>Clear out closets and move furniture for hardwood floor refinishing on Tuesday</s>. (strictly speaking, we did not have to do this, but after <s>hours of whining and pointed remarks from me</s> a little thought, Scott decided to get that job done today).<br />
<br />
4. Laundry (let us not kid ourselves; laundry is never crossed off, because laundry is never finished!)<br />
<br />
5. Start Supper (are you kidding? Did you see how busy I was today? Dining out - <i><b>obviously!</b></i>)<br />
<br />
6. <s>Empty china cabinet</s>. (I had planned to do this, naturally, but Scott <s>gave in</s> decided to surprise me)<br />
<br />
7. <s>Spray peach tree</s>. (Jack is looking forward to some juicy fruit this summer!)<br />
<br />
As TITK can see, it has been an extremely busy day, and the day is not over yet!<br />
<br />
I just came in from the garden where I have begun the annual spring cleanup! Certainly, I would have begun it, anyway, if not for the fact that it is already 5:20 PM, and even working <s>in my typical haphazard manner</s> at top speed, it was almost impossible to get this ^ much accomplished in a single day, much less a single day <i>minus one hour</i>. What I would like to know is how do the Powers that Be sleep at night, knowing that they have stolen an hour out of the days of highly productive citizens/residents like Yours Truly? Daylight Saving Time is an abomination!<br />
<br />
Nevertheless, in my usual energetic way, I at least tidied up around the patio, returned the chairs to their normal positions and picked up a little of the winter refuse that seems to gather in corners and under bushes. There is a great deal yet to be done, but it will have to wait until I return in early April. By that time, I expect that the ice will have completely melted off the pond and the garden will have dried out just enough for me to begin a serious cleanup. I am so excited! <br />
<br />
Meanwhile, the boys and I will be happily ensconced in Hilton Head, soaking up a little rejuvenating sunshine and taking care of various chores down there, too. We will have an especially pleasant 10 days there this spring because their Aunty Deb is going to fly down to join us for a long weekend next week! We cannot wait! Scott will also be there for that long weekend. We are all looking forward to it very much!<br />
<br />
I must sign off for now and get back to packing and plotting my route for the trip tomorrow. The boys and I are going to make a run for it - drive as far as we can - tomorrow. If we can make it all the way, we will. If we need to stop, we will do that. Therefore, do not expect a post from me for a day or so (what am I, a machine? You will be lucky to hear from me all week!) I shall be busy driving! I do not want to hear any whining about it.<br />
<br />
Good day to all!<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-M4BursSX8u4/TYUxhBs4xrI/AAAAAAAAANI/b4-S1IvSH8M/s1600/photo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://lh6.googleusercontent.com/-M4BursSX8u4/TYUxhBs4xrI/AAAAAAAAANI/b4-S1IvSH8M/s320/photo.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kiki's Wedding Colours</td></tr>
</tbody></table>NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-25913252216692227262011-03-17T12:32:00.001-05:002011-03-17T15:32:43.193-05:00Good Morning to all Those in the Know! It is a beautiful, sunshiney, springy day here in northern Illinois and I must say it is about time! It is all bad enough that we are afflicted with daylight savings time in the not-so-merry month of March, but when the weather remains wintry, that is just too much!<br />
<br />
I promised yesterday to update TITK about all the other news in my life, and I am nothing if not a promise-keeper! <br />
<br />
We are currently in the midst of another bathroom renovation. Yes, I know I once posted that I would never, under any circumstances, <i>ever</i> undertake another renovation again as long as I live but <s>I was only kidding!</s> circumstances arose which made renovation of that last bathroom urgently necessary. We suffered a leak from the plumbing in there which ruined our newly renovated kitchen ceiling. I do not think I need to tell TITK how <s>infuriating</s> disappointing that was! We tried a few home repairs ourselves, but the water always came back, until we finally determined that the only solution would be to tear out the bathtub and old plumbing completely to get at the pipes buried underneath. Obviously, once we began a tear out of that magnitude, the only sensible course forward would be to completely gut and renovate the entire bathroom.<br />
<br />
This we have undertaken. We hired a contractor who began the demolition this week. I must say, it does seem to me that these young men undertake a demolition project with entirely too much gusto. The other morning, I was startled by a veritable rock concert of thunderous crashes and thumps from above. Even Minnie (whom TITK are well aware is as deaf as a post) was uneasy and jumped with fright once or twice. <br />
<br />
I was forced to walk upstairs to have a brief word with the contractors, letting them know in my usual <s>grating</s> gracious manner that the level of noise and banging seemed quite unnecessary. I must confide in my dear friends, TITK, that young people these days seem particularly bashful, not to say a little slow in comprehension skills. The two young men, whom I interrupted with wrecking hammers raised in mid -air, stared at me in <s>obvious incredulity</s> apparent confusion. I do not know what to think of education today when young people enter adulthood unable to understand the simplest of requests: I feel I made myself perfectly clear: there must be a way to demolish a bathroom and remove 50-year-old fixtures, floors and ancient tiled walls without making quite so much of a fuss!<br />
<br />
Apparently not, however. After a long pause (during which I nearly had to go back up to inquire about the breaks policy of their firm), the wretched cacophony started up again. Minnie and I were literally driven out of the house!<br />
<br />
Anyway, enough about the shortcomings of contractors. Let me tell you about my design! The former bathroom was a standard 6X8.5 room with an ancient ceramic tub enclosure along one wall and an equally ancient vanity cabinet with a single offset sink at the far edge of it right next to the ugly, squat toilet. The new bathroom will have a simple shower (though beautiful, naturally! It will be a creation by <i>moi</i> do not forget!) and new vanity and fixtures. The old tile and fixtures were white and chrome and the walls were plain yellow. The new tile will be a Mexican style in a mixture of shades of stone, cream and brown. The new vanity will be a modern furniture style cabinet in an espresso finish. The fixtures will be in brushed nickel. No doubt it will all be simply elegant! <br />
<br />
Today, I am trying to finish this before my battery runs out, so this post will be quick and possibly poorly written. C'est la vie*, my friends! As always, I do my utmost to make the most of every situation, no matter what the cost to myself, but from time to time it must be acknowledged that challenges can sometimes get the best of one. Resources are limited (32 minutes of battery life remain, but only 9 minutes of my patience) and one must do one's best, irregardless**!<br />
<br />
Good day to all!<br />
<br />
<br />
*From my much-admired collection of French phrases. This one is a suavely sophisticated way to say "tough noogies".<br />
<br />
**I have no idea why the spell check has underlined this perfectly useful word! Clearly, there are bugs yet to be worked out in this blogspot software. How irritating!NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-43197608735400726522011-03-15T14:35:00.009-05:002011-03-15T20:46:46.180-05:00Catching UpOops! I seem to have neglected my blog! I am sure that Those in the Know will understand that a busy woman like <i>moi</i> must prioritize her numerous tasks and responsibilities, and naturally I have had <s>almost</s> <strike>nothing at all</strike> several more pressing matters to attend to over the past couple of months!<br />
<br />
The main excitement in my life this winter is the planning of our dear daughter's wedding. Needless to say, with Yours Truly capably at the helm, the ship of marriage will be smoothly launched in June! Although, I must admit, I am slightly concerned about the ability of all others involved to stay the course and bring about a truly outstanding social event! Not to worry, though. In my own inimitable style, I will <s>whip everyone into shape</s> patiently guide all concerned toward a joyous and beautiful culmination of <s>all my carefully laid plans</s> all the young couple's fondest hopes and dreams!<br />
<br />
So far, <s>I </s> we have made tremendous progress, in spite of a rather daunting obstacle. I am sorry to say that the representative of our original choice for the wedding reception venue wrote to us in December announcing that the management had fired their entire dining room staff - including the chef! - and had signed an agreement with a coffee and sandwich outfit in town to replace them! We were assured that the new <i>cafeteria</i> (currently under construction there) would provide as elegant a milieu for our daughter's wedding as the serenity of the zen garden atmosphere and Asian fusion cuisine of the former Garden <i>dining room</i>. :-/ <br />
<br />
Let us consider this for a moment: An ordinary, decidedly un-zenlike - let us be frank: very coffee and donut-like - sandwich shop will provide a "serene and elegant reception experience" for our daughter's wedding. Our daughter and her new husband will (for an outrageous fee) be serenely and elegantly surrounded by coffee-swilling and donut-dunking cafe patrons. Possibly noisy and unruly patrons (not that I am easily annoyed, of course). Our dozens of guests, most of whom will have traveled thousands of miles to attend the nuptials, will (at great expense to us) be granted the privilege of mingling serenely and elegantly in wedding attire with the ballcap-sporting hoi poloi who wander in off the street for a jelly-filled donut and a cup of joe. The regular patrons of the cafe will have every right to be there, of course, but our daughter and her wedding party will have to pay (handsomely!) for the privilege and will, to add insult to injury, be the interlopers at the venue during their own wedding!<br />
<br />
1. Casual cafe.<br />
2. Casually dressed patrons.<br />
3. Coffee and donuts and sandwiches.<br />
4. Wedding party. <br />
<s>Three of these things just do not belong.</s><br />
One of these things just does not belong.<br />
<br />
We were assured that the new sandwich shop chef is top notch. I am sure that he is. I have no doubt that his culinary greatness has merely been stifled by the overwhelming demand for coffee, donuts and sandwiches in the hurly burly competitive world of the office lunch market to which he has heretofore been limited. I feel confident that this transition to a wider market and a more varied and sophisticated cuisine will be an enormous success both for the sandwich outfit and for the Gardens and I wish the new venture every success. However, I am <s>not bloody likely! </s> unwilling to allow my daughter's wedding reception to be a test case for them to gauge the success of that particular experiment.<br />
<br />
Let us not kid ourselves: a coffee and sandwich shop is a coffee and sandwich shop, no matter how these people tried to <s>mis</s>represent it! Needless to say, I immediately <s>lowered the boom</s> sent them a polite reply expressing my <s>fury</s> disappointment and informed them that we would be making other arrangements for our daughter's wedding, toute de suite*.<br />
<br />
A few <s>frantic</s> quick emails from Yours Truly and disaster was nimbly averted. <s>I</s> We have made new and, if I may say so, far superior arrangements with a private country club here in town. To be perfectly honest, this was probably <s>the last thing on my mind last year</s> one of the first places I thought about last year! I really ought to listen to <s>someone else once in a while</s> my own inner voice more often!<br />
<br />
After that little bump in the road to wedded bliss was behind us, the wedding planning went along very nicely indeed! Kiki has selected dresses for her bridesmaids and these have been ordered. She has created a design for her wedding cake and she has chosen table centerpieces for the reception (with the able assistance of Your Humble Servant, naturally). She and Dennis have also met with their officiant and are now planning their own unique ceremony. Although they have <s>foolishly!</s> sensibly declined my <s>repeated offers of</s> assistance in this area, I <s>suppose</s> am confident that, together, they will create a beautiful and meaningful ceremony which will reflect their personal tastes and their hopes and dreams for the future.<br />
<br />
We have booked a photographer, a DJ for the reception and some live musicians for the ceremony. We have talked flowers, favors and fillings for the cake layers. We have sent invitations overseas and to Canada a little early to allow our guests more time to make travel plans. In early April, I plan to mail the invitations to local friends and friends in other states.<br />
<br />
Things are coming together swimmingly! It is all very exciting, and, thanks to Your Dependable** Reporter, TITK will be able to follow every <s>excruciating</s> exciting detail from now until June 11!<br />
<br />
There is other news to relay although obviously not nearly as interesting as wedding talk. Those in the Know can depend upon me to update them <s>if/when the spirit moves me</s> at my earliest convenience. I am, as always, very busy and in fact I am being paged right now. <br />
<br />
Good day to all!<br />
<br />
* Another little French gem for TITK. It means, "on the double, you fools!" but expresses the thought with ever so much more sophistication! A gift from me to you.<br />
<br />
** "Dependable" is as "dependable" does. Who cares anyway? I am here now, and that is all that matters!NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-86809841430740292562010-11-12T09:38:00.007-06:002010-11-12T19:44:03.120-06:00Friday, TGIIF!19,450 words of pure, unadulterated garbage.<br />
<br />
Oh well, who cares? In my own inimitable style, I will make lemons out of that lemonade during the rewriting process. It is true that TITK may be justified in expecting my novel to leap out onto the page from my imagination a fully-formed and impressive creation, but the truth is <s>my writing ability is dismal </s> my writing talent is far more subtle than that! It is <s>pretty much non-existent</s> the sort of talent that quietly begins a story and gradually lets it grow over time <s>and frequent rewrites</s> until the final, <s>excrementitious</s> exquisite draft is triumphantly produced.<br />
<br />
Yesterday, I introduced a dead body into the narrative. It was one of my famous <s>disastrous tangents </s>surprising plot twists, and of course <s>totally predictable</s> a complete shocker! However, almost as soon as I typed the words, I realized that here was <s>a pathetic predictable plot clunker</s> an interesting idea that might need a little more development. This morning, as I dragged my weary, writerly bones to the computer, I must admit that I was not looking forward to facing the next <s>awful</s> paragraph.<br />
<br />
Then, inspiration struck! I am now typing away with renewed enthusiasm (well, except for right now, when I am <s>wasting time, distracted again</s> dutifully keeping TITK in the loop) and will no doubt create a plot of such stunning complexity and originality that the Nobel committee might come knocking at my door before it is even published!<br />
<br />
In other news, our anniversary was even nicer than I had hoped it would be! We were so disappointed earlier in the fall when we realized that our original plan of going to Hilton Head for our anniversary was simply going to be too much to fit into an already exhausting schedule. We had planned to spend an enjoyable evening with Aunt Jean, too, gobbling up delicious Chinese food at her newly renovated house and generally have the most relaxing time imaginable. But, Scott's travel schedule has been hellish and of course TITK already know how busy I always am! So, we opted not to try to travel right now. That left us scrambling to think of a way to make the occasion feel special.<br />
<br />
It was, of course, <s>Scott's</s> my brilliant idea to try the little bistro downtown near the riverfront. I <s>had my doubts</s> was very confident that it would be fabulous, and indeed it was! We had a simply amazing meal of small, flavourful dishes in a beautifully decorated and unique little place right on State Street. The wine was light and fruity, there was candlelight and pleasant wait staff and even the small clusters of fresh, fanciful flowers on the tables delighted me.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NdA4lxdcDdg/TN1bR-lJl6I/AAAAAAAAAMs/wystlUydBwA/s1600/tableposy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NdA4lxdcDdg/TN1bR-lJl6I/AAAAAAAAAMs/wystlUydBwA/s320/tableposy.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Something Almost as Pretty as I Might Have Created<br />
<br />
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Anyway, it was a lovely dinner followed by a pleasant evening sitting out by a roaring fire on the patio with our kids and guests. A quiet anniversary, but surprisingly wonderful!<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Today, Kiki has been <s>bothering me</s> keeping me in the loop with frequent texts from work. Her store is holding an event today featuring the superstar crooner Ricky Martin. Apparently, people began to line up to attend the event at 9:00 last night! I told her not to worry; as long as she keeps to the rear of the store, she can <s>pretend to be busy and avoid the hysterical throngs</s> help facilitate a smooth transition between fans and star while <s>popping out frequently for refreshing cups of tea</s> ensuring that the needs of her fellow staff and customers are properly looked after. I know she will astound the rest of the staff with her masterful juggling of the crowds and the star's entourage, while no doubt racking up thousands in sales for the store. She just has that kind of amazing ability. She is, after all, her mother's daughter!</div><div><br />
</div><div>We are expecting Jack in town tonight, so <s>the entire weekend will probably be a dead loss as far as the great Can-Am novel is concerned! </s> the entire weekend will no doubt be filled with fun and music and laughter! I, for one, am <s>irritated</s> delighted! We have not seen enough of our darling boy this fall, so we are really looking forward to it. I am trying to plan some special meals of his favorite foods. I saw on his facebook page this week that he is subsisting on hummus and pita. Why, <s>I haven't a clue what either of them are!</s> I am sure that I can whip up a tasty batch of that in my crock pot! Will have to run, my friends! It is already 9:30 AM and I ought to get that on right away!</div><div><br />
</div><div>Good Day to All!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NdA4lxdcDdg/TN3Lvng2HXI/AAAAAAAAAM0/dUYXYenyWCA/s1600/26yearslaughing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_NdA4lxdcDdg/TN3Lvng2HXI/AAAAAAAAAM0/dUYXYenyWCA/s320/26yearslaughing.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Holy Horizontal Stripes, Batman!</td></tr>
</tbody></table></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-6186959493637715902010-11-10T14:47:00.002-06:002010-11-10T20:23:22.539-06:0018,00818,008 very loosely connected words. Sigh.<br />
<br />
On the bright side, however, I am looking forward to a romantic candlelight dinner tonight! At least I hope there will be candlelight! These new-fangled popular restaurants seem to have missed the memo on what makes a pleasant place for discriminating diners. Candlelight is a must. Also generous portions.<br />
<br />
I just realized that the restaurant <s>I</s> we have chosen calls itself a "bistro". Darn it, if <s>I</s> we had known that before now, <s>I</s> we would never have chosen it! "Bistro" is the kiss of death to any really enjoyable dining experience. Tiny portions of much- too- saucy food, artfully displayed on huge plates is all very well, <i>visually</i>. But I want to know how these people expect a restaurant patron to fill up on 3/4 of an ounce of food?<br />
<br />
We will see how this goes today. I am nothing if not open-minded, but the signs are not promising!<br />
<br />
Another pic for your viewing pleasure (as you can probably tell from this picture, Scott and I both obviously patronized far too many bistros back in our salad days (and, incidentally, probably filled up on too much salad, too, judging by our emaciated appearance!). Quick! Someone get those kids a decent meat and potatoes meal!<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NdA4lxdcDdg/TNsEvv1kxQI/AAAAAAAAAMo/9riaiy6eLgM/s1600/23850_360691112575_712982575_5041901_6078462_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_NdA4lxdcDdg/TNsEvv1kxQI/AAAAAAAAAMo/9riaiy6eLgM/s320/23850_360691112575_712982575_5041901_6078462_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">June, 1983</td></tr>
</tbody></table>NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-61440418985862589332010-11-09T16:59:00.008-06:002010-11-10T14:31:52.580-06:00Rounding That First Quarter Bend!17,000 words!<br />
<br />
Those in the Know will be thrilled to hear that I have rounded that first crucial quarter turn in my sacred quest to deliver the great Canadian-American novel to the world! It is a wonderful feeling to be nearly one tenth of the way toward my goal!<br />
<br />
The other day when I passed the 10,000 word mark, I told Scott that I had completed 1/5 of my novel and he thought he could confuse me later by referring to that day's achievement as "20%" of the novel. Naturally, I brushed aside his smarty-pants joke. It may be true that I am <s>a complete dunce at mathematics</s> somewhat mathematically challenged, but I know one fifth when I see it and 10,000 words is definitely one fifth of 50,000 words!<br />
<br />
Now, (oh joy!) I have almost doubled that number of words and am steaming my way slowly but steadily toward a solid tenth of the final product! Or maybe it is 17%? Oh well, who cares? The point is that I am moving mountains here and this novel is really getting interesting!<br />
<br />
We are having an unseasonably warm week and I, for one, am loving it! I spent the morning indoors <s>wasting time, mostly</s> taking care of important chores, for the most part, and chatting with Sven. What a fine young man he is turning out to be! He is enjoying college and has clearly benefited a great deal from our conversations. I don't like to boast, but TITK will not be surprised to learn that I have been a reliable counselor for Sven, particularly in matters related to mathematics and physics (which I naturally have advised him to avoid, since everyone knows they make no sense whatsoever). He will have no trouble excelling at his dream of a profession in architecture if he simply follows my example of combining exquisite decorating taste with a flair for dramatic design. He was so grateful for my advice that he was speechless! I told him not to mention it.<br />
<br />
I spent the early part of the afternoon sitting outside attempting to add to my word count. It was not easy due to the turkeys who insisted on wandering annoyingly all over the garden. I like nature <s>as long as it stays far away from me</s> as much as the next person but I find it <s>incredibly irritating</s> a little distracting when the local fauna decide to camp out in our backyard and proceed to make a great deal of noise! Great Scott! What a lot of gobbling and clucking! It is a wonder I am able to string a single coherent sentence together! But, as Those in the Know already know, I am one of those rare spirits who is truly <s>at odds with nature</s> at one with nature. I am the soul of the natural woman.<br />
<br />
Well, the sun is beginning to set, so it is time for me to prepare another healthy, nutritious and delicious dinner for my little family. I never complain, but the truth is that I have been finding it <s>very annoying!</s> a little exasperating some days having to cut short a fertile creative harvest in order to attend to boring old matters like putting food on the table for my hungry family. I ask myself: why do people need to eat so much, anyway? But never mind that. Lucky for <s>them</s> me, my dear spouse decided to put together a spinach lasagna last night so that supper would be a snap tonight. Obviously, I could easily have produced a <s>terrible</s> wonderful <s>frozen</s> home-cooked dinner with my usual breezy flair, but this is so much <s>easier</s> nicer!<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is Scott's and my wedding anniversary. I must say, some days it feels like only last month that we got married. Not <i>yesterday</i>, as some people so pithily like to say ( obviously they are lying through their teeth) since we did move all over the place and produce five children in between our wedding day and today, but I think a month sounds about right. We plan to go out for dinner at a little place near the riverfront. Kiki and Dennis are coming in to take the boys out for Mexican, so we can enjoy our anniversary tête à tête* without any worries. I never cease to marvel at the thoughtfulness of my first-born. She is so much like me!<br />
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Well, I must go and pop that pan of lasagna into the oven now and get the salad ready. I am really too good.<br />
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Good Day to All!<br />
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*tête à tête : another sophisticated French gem from moi to you. It means delicious supper accompanied by fine french wine. Use it with my compliments.<br />
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Here is an old Anniversary photo:<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NdA4lxdcDdg/TNnVANyGRpI/AAAAAAAAAMk/14acmPQ7lfE/s1600/22years.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="242" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_NdA4lxdcDdg/TNnVANyGRpI/AAAAAAAAAMk/14acmPQ7lfE/s320/22years.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">22 Years</td></tr>
</tbody></table>NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8456993243040155048.post-53225513829315701562010-11-07T12:50:00.004-06:002010-11-07T15:56:12.673-06:0014,244 Words!The title says it all: 14, 244 words!<br />
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How do I do it?<br />
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True, I did not manage to reach 13,1313 by the end of the day, yesterday, but there were two good reasons for that:<br />
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1. As usual, I <s>frittered away most of the day idly flipping between my open document and the far more interesting world wide web</s> had so many important things to do that there simply was not enough time to achieve so much more than any normal novelist might be expected to achieve in one day and<br />
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2. There is no such thing as the number 13,1313 (although anyone could make that mistake, obviously).<br />
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Nevertheless, with my characteristic panache*, I did succeed in typing out 12, 432 amazing, high-quality words before <s>flipping the laptop shut and popping in an NCIS dvd</s> retiring for a well-earned good night's sleep.<br />
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I was up with the turkeys this morning, as I <s>rarely</s> usually am, and I began working on my novel again the minute I had filled the kettle and set it to boil. It was lovely to be writing away as the first rays of autumn sunshine were filtering in through the dining room window. I had the peace and quiet of a slumbering household all to myself. I really do enjoy being the first person up!<br />
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As I believe I have mentioned once or twice in the past, I often express my congratulations to the government for the brilliant idea of Daylight Savings Time. Giving the people an extra hour of sleep every autumn, and the subsequent pleasure of rising in the morning <i>in daylight</i>, with a bonus hour of sweet, free time is exactly the sort of accomplishment we expect from our elected leaders. I say "Bravo!" and my only quibble is why they don't do it more often!<br />
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Of course, it would all have been much more pleasant if I hadn't been forced to take Minnie outside practically as soon as I stepped foot in the kitchen. It is all very well to talk about peacefully slumbering households, but the inconvenient truth is that at least one member of our household (or, more specifically, at least one of her remarkably efficient organs) appears never to sleep - at least not for long. Certainly not for 7-8 whole hours. <br />
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After I had cleaned up after her, I took our <s>annoying</s> beloved pet outside for a little fresh air and morning exercise, fed her and laid new paper just in case she was hatching any plans about more accidents <s>before anyone else was awake to deal with them.</s> I am nothing if not a devoted dog-owner, but I want to know why I always have to do everything? One would think the dog would try to be a little less of a nuisance, not to mention a little more appreciative of Yours Truly.<br />
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Anyway, who cares? The important thing is that I <s>threw her kibble in the bowl and promptly ignored her</s> got straight down to the business of writing my novel after lovingly caring for the dog. Sipping a delicious cup of tea and typing like the wind, I brought my word count up over 13,000 within an hour and was soon galloping toward 14,000.<br />
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The great Can-Am novel is taking shape, my friends! Think how lucky you are to be <i>in the know</i> as this amazing literary masterpiece is slowly forming. No need to thank me. It is my gift to mankind.<br />
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Good Day to All!<br />
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*panache: speedy, if inaccurate, typing.NiftyWriterhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17103734836789258691noreply@blogger.com2