April 29, 2010
April 28, 2010
April 28th is the annual day of mourning for workers who lost their lives on the job, and I send my best out to all the survivors. Workplaces are supposed to safeguard their employees as valuable resources, and some do not. There are the freak accidents but more commonly it happens because someone is not paying enough attention. Please be aware of the dangers in the environment you are working in and if it is not safe see your occupational health an safety committee member, it is your RIGHT.
On another note entirely, my 2nd marriage would have been 20 years old today.
Man have I come a long way.
scribbles by dk on 4/28/2010
April 27, 2010
Okay, I've had it. In 3 months I have had enough externally negative events impugn upon my awareness that the slide back into "I don't give a fuck land" was already halfway completed before I realized I was in motion.
I had previously lost about 42 pounds from the beginning of Jan to about the 3rd week in March and was feeling FABULOUS about it. Then things started to go downhil and the comfort eating started to kick back in and I have now gained bac 20 of those blasted pounds. Yeah - that makes me really happy.
Yes people die. But dammit, three which will likely be 4 by the end of this week between 52 and 30yrs - c'mon.... and I had no IDEA the reaction I would have to the last one - by the 100 little gods what a mess! Talk about non-closure issues after 25 years.
Work has has sucked harder than the gravity on Venus with the recurring cough/flue/crap/knee/ankle just kill me now stupid shit until the last two weeks where I have finally managed to catch up - YEAH!
And then there is the dealing with the lawyer, and putting out more $$ to protect my own investment - which is also entirely my own damn fault.
And other friends who are so afraid getting burned again they they refuse to take any kind of risk for happiness now, even though that is what they want.
And the car started to make a weird noise yesterday
scribbles by dk on 4/27/2010
April 23, 2010
Pooh Bear is my favorite character in Chris Robin's world but today it feels more like an Eeyore day. Sleep is eluding me, Nay, veritably evading me this week, I am not wonder woman and I needs me some serious shut eye. In the last week I haven't slet more than 2 uninterrupted hours and I think one night I actually managed to get 5 hours.
As a result, I feel like I've lost my tail ...
The laundry didn't get done again ...
I'm out of smokes ...
and then I get the occasional Tigger-ly kick but its Firday and weekend is almost here, bounce bounce, with Pooh bear thinking a guinness would be rumbly in my tumbly...
scribbles by dk on 4/23/2010
April 21, 2010
April 19, 2010
April 15, 2010
So if you've been following along I've had a rather upsy downsy winter/spring. In fact I bet I could track my manic depressive cycles through my posts or not posts as the case may be. A lot of the impact has been from external sources over which I have No - nada - none - zilch - zero - control. And of course that's never been a problem for me.
All green growing things need water to grow and while the big snow dump while I was in Jamaica (hahahahaha) definitely contributed to the water table - we are the prairies and that meltwater won't last long. So for all those lovely flowers we need to to stop and smell along the way, and the instances of inhaling the freshly mown grass - go aheaf rain, clear the air of the remaining snow mold succubii and batten down the flatlands dust for a bit. I can see old sol trying to peek around one of the grey brethren now... you can do it ...
Rain is just the delayed gratification portion of my sunny weekend.
scribbles by dk on 4/15/2010
April 14, 2010
I stopped by the pub after work yesterday to wish my friend Nickless a joyous celebration of the last year of his 20's. I've been staying away from the pub a bit lately and reducing the libation levels in preparation for the forthcoming season of deckadance, and so I was presented with a schwack of cronies I'd not seen much of lately. It was freaking lovely.
I only had a couple of pints, had another engagement to get to, but man it sure felt good to be home. Nick and I realized that it was also the 7 year anniversary of me meeting the sandwiches. It was Nick's bday - 7 years ago, with our dear and still missing friend Frosty, introducing me to the Kamsack crew over a few Irish Car Bombs.
7 years. Whoosh. It was gone. Just like that, but not really. The memories are plethoric and pulchritudinous. Over the last seven years I have gained myself a whole new framily. I have brothers from other mothers and sisters from different misters. Some of the mothers are also my friends, and some of my friends are the same age as my children. There is no one demographic that can contain my framily except that they are all open hearted, generous, and for the most part compassionate.
Sure there are situations where peoples' feelings' get hurt, and the drama erupts, relationships begin and die, or come to fruition and bear fruit, marriages, splitsville, babies, moves, vacations and the occasional respite at the House Of Pain. People try not to take sides, but it happens for awhile and then it all settles out - or not, shared confidences encourage groups inside groups like fractal mirrors, the occasional nasty little snippets of gossip inevitably arise and fall by the wayside as the natural exhaust of large group of dynamic and slightly dysfunctional personalities, myself included.
And as I looked around yesterday, there were no less than 15 very good friends celebrating our framiliness, and the party was just starting.
I am one damn lucky woman.
scribbles by dk on 4/14/2010
April 11, 2010
April 07, 2010
John Laird Macdonald was a gentle old soul who shared everything he had and really wanted nothing more than to see people smile. I found out Monday night that he had passed away two weeks ago and that his sister had not bothered to notify any of his friends or extended family. Poor form.
I met John February 27, 1986 at Jon Jon's birthday party and we hit it off right away. Tall and gangly with a shock of Billy Idol bleached white hair, eyes deeper than an artesian well, and a laugh that started at his toes. A great lover of music we shared an obsession with David Bowie, Iggy Pop, and the Sex Pistols. And though his voice wasn't anything to cheer about he loved to sing, enthusiastically.
John's experiences before I met him had taught him some hard lessons, the first of which was that you just never know when it'll be your turn to go so you better enjoy your life while you have it. He lived his motto, "go hard or go home". And no matter what happened to me in the intervening years, that lesson was something I never let go of. There were times when it was relegated to a back shelf but it was never lost. It's the reason that I will always be 8 years old in my heart. Thank you for that John.
Like many friendships that span decades, you occasionally lose touch and then find each other once again - but we rarely missed the birthday phone calls - just to keep up. I haven't seen him for about 5 years (his last visit here from Halifax), and though neither of us are aging particularly well - it was like there had been no time in between. I last spoke to him in December and he didn't discuss any health issues. We talked about my impending trip to Jamaica (he loved to travel especially on the train), how my kids were doing, what he was doing to keep himself busy (same old)and sharing news of mutual friends long since spread all over the nation.
Memories are churning, John as James Bond for Hallowe'en in a white tux, and leather and jeans at the Idol concert in Calgary. John on the floor playing lego with my kids. The road trip we took to go camping in South Dakota in the valiant - what a freaking gong show that was. Meeting Keppel - another soon to be lifelong friend. The Alice Cooper show. Extra Old Stock and port. The raid on the Winnipeg street house. Sheila & Kelly's attempt at a turkey dinner - lordy - what a mess. Deck parties. Taking the train at Christmastime cross country to Halifax to meet his parents in Liverpool N.S., and the 5 days we spent in Montreal. My first subway ride. Snow gently frosting the cobblestones in the old town, visting the Hotel de Ville and sitting in the Presidente's throne in the council room. Walking along St. Denis at midnight warmed by wine and convinced we really did understand french. Exploring the Halifax underground. Getting Screeched. The perfect snowfall christmas eve and listening to the carols in church with his mum & dad. Running into the ocean at the end of December so we could say we did the Atlantic Polar Bear. Taking university classes together and banging our heads on the tables in the Lab Caff. West Edmonton Mall, black heaven and the drop of doom. And all the crowd back then. Jon Jon, Cookie, Sheila, Kelly, Kenny, Shelley, Dodi, Magnus, Little Kelly, Preston, Billy, Dave, Sandy, & Lynn. I actually still know where over half of those people are.
SO thank you John for all the high drama and low, for sharing your joy and your framily, and for singing every Bowie song we knew. You will always be in my heart and I am really going to miss those phone calls.
scribbles by dk on 4/07/2010
April 05, 2010
It isn't actually raining and it was a beautiful week end, but it is back to work and though spring is in the air I am still shaking off the winter doldrums.
Early Friday road trip to the Jaw and pa pa. Took the boyo and miss enchanting for coffee. Everything seems to be going well out there and it was great to see the rents. The kids even inherited a new little freezer and some file cabinets for their new house.
It was a fair quiet weekend though I did spend Saturday visiting, and had an absolute blast with the crew at the dance party Saturday night ~ great idea Abigail.
The grand children have given up the ghost on the tooth fairy and the easter bunny - so sad, thanks to their TEACHERs - who have likely murdered Santa in the process and who really ought to keep their respective noses out of the cultural myths we choose to relate to our children. I really would like to smack both those women ~ don't kids have to grow up too soon as it is ~ you have to steal the magic too?
I did realize this week that my compassion is more deeply rooted than any resentment or sense of betrayal I may be hanging onto. Big step forward.
Deb is getting better slowly but last night she was coughing so deeply that I pretty much stayed up all night and sneaked into her room every hour and a half or so - to check that she's breathing - cause I was having nightmares about calling 911 in the morning. I was so happy to hear her voice when her alarm went off at 7am. Whew!
Otherwise it was a lovely 3 days off and I am looking forward to a similar weekend shortly.
scribbles by dk on 4/05/2010
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
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]
Women Entitled to Nothing but Complete Happiness
International Wenches Guild
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