February 28, 2007

fuzzy february ...

here it is the last day of february. and I have no idea where the least month has gone. my apologies for the lack of posting. suffice it to say I've been under the weather. back to work this am. hoping all goes well - if you ask my buddies, "stir crazy" truly does not need to be added to my already long list of defects. type atcha later.

February 17, 2007

what time is it?

you wake up in the dark and the alarm clock says 6:30 but you're not quite sure if that's am or pm because you may not have been all that together when you reset it after kicking the electrical cord out of the socket after the cat tripped you on your way around the bed. that's how I felt yesterday. my circadian rhythms seem a tad off kilter. to get them back in order i have stayed up all night and will not nap today so that when i go to bed at 11pm (note to self: remember to check the clock) I will sleep right through until 7am (provided i don't cough myself awake)... that's the plan anyhow.

so i am trying to figure out how to burn an avi onto a dvd so that i can watch it on my TV. i always meant to do this and just never seemed to get "aroundtuit" (had one years ago but it was used as a coaster). First thing i tried was super dvd creator which seemed to preview the movie then hang - maybe i wasn't patient enough. now i'm burning an ISOd movie to see if that works using nero. then i'll go back to learning how to convert the video/audio files when/where required.

i need someone to explain lens attributes to me. apparently my camera will take monochrome pics (nat. geo. photo article) - now i just have to figure out which button/setting/freaking menu option will do the trick. then i need to investigate how to convert to B&W in photoshop (borrowed lu's book). i still haven't played with my tablet yet (can you believe i've had it since december and haven't tried the pen yet?) and there's to much static for me to be mucking about changing out the power supply and the RAM in the tower.

i have this little singing flower doll - squeeze her hand and she sings zippity do dah (several of my friends share this burden) anyway, i carry so much static that a couple of days ago, i turned on my light switch my finger tip lit up like ET with an audible SNAP and it set the damn doll to singing. a little unexpected but stranger things have happened with me and electricity. it happened again later that day and I do have a witness. got out of bed yesterday, which puts me oh - about 3 feet away from the doll - the damn things starts singing and then immediately slows down and drags it out as if someone flipped a record from 45 to 78, and that has now happened three times. guess i'm a cosmic wireless battery :)

enjoy the weekend!

February 13, 2007

laughter doesn't make me sick today ~ WHOHOO!

well I finished my last (3rd) round of antibiotics this morning. I am feeling ALOT better than I was a week ago but I am still hacking. %^&#$@! I am so tired of being sick. at least the earache has been gone now since Saturday. back to the doc tomorrow. heavy sigh ...

on another topic entirely: we were having a discussion of what a "proper" marriage proposal should be, and my kids (son 24 & daughter 27) gave me a couple of ideas. the girl expects some romance in the proposal, whether the couple has been cohabiting or not, and the lack of any attempt at romance is construed as being taken for granted. the boy on the other hand, came up with one that made me just freakin' howl. a marriage proposal means: "please don't let me die desperate and alone, I brought you something shiny." it's bloody brilliant!

we do need to keep in mind that though i am a romantic at heart, through age and experience i've evolved into a practical realist with just a dash of the romantic. what does that mean? it means that i believe in the state of marriage, but i see it as a contract for mutual support by two people that may or may not be based on love, but actually works better if the couple are friends that care deeply for one another. i'll take heart love over romantic love any day. and no i do not think that makes me a cynic.

February 10, 2007

interuptions ...

always when you least need them. however, i am screwing with the code for the page because, as usual, templates are a good foundation but they are as joanne worley used to say, "b-o-r-i-n-g". i'm just happy i haven't broken it yet :)

February 09, 2007

instead of window$ error messages

The Web site you seek
Cannot be located, but
Countless more exist.

Chaos reigns within.
Reflect, repent, and reboot.
Order may return.

Program aborting
Close all that you have worked on.
You expect too much.

Windows NT crashed.
I am the Blue Screen of Death.
No one hears your screams.

Yesterday it worked.
Today it is not working.
Windows is like that.

Your file was so big.
It might be very useful.
Try to find it now.

A crash reduces
Your expensive computer
To a simple stone.

Three things are certain
Death, taxes and lost data.
Guess which has occurred.

Out of memory.
We wish to hold the whole sky,
But we never will.

Having been erased,
The document you're seeking
Must now be rekeyed.

Serious error.
All shortcuts have disappeared.
Screen. Mind. Both are blank.

I ate your Web page.
Forgive me; it was tasty
And tart on my tongue.

these just cracked me right up!

ah ha!

i've been feeling sad for some time now. i've been searching all over ... attempting to fill a void that is as impossible to fill as a black hole. avoiding alone time. today i figured out what's wrong. i really miss my mom. it seems like she has been gone forever and just left yesterday. but she's been gone almost 15 years and sometimes i still need her. i talk to her in my head. sometimes if i'm alone i talk to her out loud. no, she doesn't answer me directly, but inevitably the answer comes forward through some other medium. coincidence you say? there is no coincidence.

one of my aunties sent me an email today about living with unconditional acceptance. that is what my mom gave me, that and unconditional love. it truly didn't matter what sort of half assed idiocy i had participated in, she just loved me. not the tidy surface plastic love that is expressed through hallmark greeting cards, but the messy painful jubilant angry when you make the same mistake twice, hopeful that there won't be a third time sort of love that is more rare than anything else you will ever experience. but you won't realize you've found it until you find it in yourself to love yourself that way first or until it is gone.

by my late twenties i was just beginning to get quick glimpses of that profound state of self acceptance. i never seemed to be able to manage to hang onto it for very long. i would get mired down in self pity and guilt for my own behaviours. or i would be trying to get lost, to escape reality for a while. for so many uncountable reasons i did not believe that i deserved that acceptance. what about all the nasty things i had done when i was younger? what about all those people i had hurt, in some cases with fore knowledge of the consequences of my actions? what about the mistakes i had made with my children? there always seemed to be some reason/rationalization/excuse for me not to just love me. i was wrong.

how about this: don't live in the past, learn from it. don't knowingly repeat mistakes, which assumes you will pay attention to what you are doing NOW. use those experiences to inform your future decisions. don't sit around and think about it, put it into action. cease with the deprecating remarks. accept a compliment gracefully. believe in yourself. set some reasonable goals and act on them. surely if you can be compassionate with others, you can spare a spot for yourself.

life is a gift. a gift is supposed to be a good thing. open it now.

ps ~ simple but hardly easy.

February 07, 2007


has your heart ever been crushed? i’m not talking about a hairline fracture or a momentary crack as another piece breaks off, but the heart rending gut wrenching can’t breathe don’t want to breathe want to disappear pretend it isn’t happening kill something die sort of pain. your chest constricting in physical distress tears in runnels slipping off balance staggering over the edge anchor lost …

ride it out … embrace it … never forget it

it does fade

February 05, 2007

socks . . .

seems a simple title. single purpose items. they usually come in pairs and disappear as singles. available in a rainbow of colours, patterns, materials and styles. stalkings, stay-ups, thigh highs (alias CFMers: those sheer white knit ones the anime girls wear), knee highs, athletics, sports (slightly shorter than athletic), anklets (usually with enough sock to fold nicely over the ankle in question), footlets (with/without pompoms) even half-footlets (covers the ball & toe part of the foot just to the beginning of the instep).

isn't a single sock a sad thing? by itself it is just so much less than half a pair. its partner embarked upon a glorious adventure through dirt water rapids. initiated by that fateful slip over the inner edge of the front loading washer, swallowed. unwillingly distanced from its mate by the pseudo centrifugal force of the dreaded spin cycle. the lonely first tumble through the dryer ... no partner to do the triple walenda with. the heart rending lack of reunion as the single is left to cool on the sorting table - abandoned. unwanted. adrift. perhaps forlornly stuffed into the corner of a drawer unable to avoid the derision of the other duos. or ruthlessly thrust into the "odd" sock bag to suffocate in the forlorn miasma of other survivors.

why should the "odd" ones be left to slowly disintegrate, their elastic to dehydrate, food for moths? there are so many options out there for them. a career as a puppet, a cat toy, a marble bag, glass protectors on moving day, dusting/polishing mitts, Barbie & Ken sleeping bag, door knob warmers, and covers for the track shoes in the gym bag. with a snip and a roll they make great little toques for whistling radiator valves. a single is a free agent not a lost sole. last but not least, it could mate up with another single, so long as they won't be on public display what does it matter? why should it matter if they are on display? two "odd" socks make a unique pair. their relatives the leotards and pantyhose have resolved their separation anxieties through controlled siamese twinning (the shared crotch).

i don't like having to wear socks. for most of my life i have gone sockless, except for really cold winter days in the hinterland. a member in good standing of the leatherfoot tribe, socks were seasonally required accessories. good practical keep-the-tosies-warm socks come first, however one should always have a a few pair of statement socks. donny osmond's statement was to only wear purple socks. not a fan of purple, it's usually the bright or shiny that catches my eye. oh yeah! so my statement is generally "i don't have to grow up" and i have an entire selection of socks with glitter or metallic pumpkins, ghosts, hearts, shamrocks, candy canes and other holiday themes. demure ankle socks with subued earthtones and discreet flowers or plaids for work days (mostly). glove socks and bigtoe nonskid footlets are my faves.

so now i'm gettin' on in years & need to think about "foot health" and circulation and such - heavy sigh. i bid a sad adieu to my funky footwarmers and the search for a replacement team begins. shopping objective: find socks as good as my favorite heavy-but-not-too-heavy 100% cotton, non binding, longer than sport but shorter than athletic, oatmeal hole in the heel, had them longer than my grandchildren have been alive socks. (my socks don't usually get separated - they also don't get to do triple walendas in the dryer because they are confined to a "sock bag", a preventative enclosure meant to reduce the escape rate of restless singletons). i could not find what i wanted. i went to 9 different stores before i settled on some that "would do". 90% cotton, earthtones but no patterns, non binding and designed to increase circulation, happy feet socks. 2 pair each of 5 colours (that way a singleton becomes the "spare"). practical, but not pretty. story of my life.

did you know that Lederhosen are not "hose" at all but leather pants, shorts or knickers supported by built in over-the-shoulder suspenders. does that make hipwaders a sort of "fisherhosen"?

February 02, 2007

friday morning ...

I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. got caught up on my daily tasks yesyerday. though I know there are several letters that will claim my attention this morning, I may yet get to some of the project work I have planned. it's funny, we were talking about stress a few days ago and I had made the comment that my job doesn't stress me, yet here I am sort of whining about workload... I think what I meant was that the stress I encounter at work now, is good stress - it challenges me. it isn't the old "bad stress" that I've lived through in several other jobs.

bad stress happens when you are on the edge of burn out. it interferes with your whole life - it affects your eating and sleeping patterns and makes you generally a more nasty individual. you become negative in your attitude and very little makes you happy. you lose the ability to be truly grounded because your foundation is busy peeling & cracking like 50 year old paint on a prairie farmhouse.

I am SO glad that I don't live THERE anymore. have a great weekend!

improvise & overcome

... and why would I choose to associate myself with a term that most used used in a derogatory manner?
In order to change the meaning of a word or create a new meaning for a word, one must own the word. Over time and use the word may evolve to mean other than was originally intended & to that end...
my definition: an independent woman

dictionary definitions:

1. informal term for a (young) woman
2. an unsupervised umarried woman
3. a young woman or girl, esp. a peasant girl.
(usually facetious)
3. a woman servant
4. a wanton woman
5. Archaic: a strumpet
[Origin: 1250–1300; ME, back formation from wenchel, OE wencel child]

synonom :"dame"

Women Entitled to Nothing but Complete Happiness

International Wenches Guild

what do you believe?


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