Friday, March 26, 2010

Time for a Change

Right now, as I'm looking out my back window, I can see the slightly fuzzy beginnings of buds on the neighbor's oak tree. My crocuses are ready to bloom and the tulips are making tentative noises about wanting to come out and play. The birds are back too, swooping and carrying on with Mr. Robin taking on Mr. Cardinal for who can make the most noise. I believe it's time for a change.

It's time to take this off my front door.....



And it's time to switch from my happy waving snowman sugarbowl

To my majolica-like, found it in Florida sugarbowl!

I'm ready for a few changes....how about you?

Sunday, March 21, 2010

We're Talking Hair

There are some people out there who really like my hair.

"You are so lucky - you have such nice thick hair." I get that one fairly often.

Or

"You hardly have a gray hair on your head!"....true again. They are there, poking out in funky wiry ways but they are a minority and at my age....past 45...well, that's nothing to sneeze at.

But like most women, my hair can drive me crazy.

It's curly in some places, straight in others. On a day where there is even a slight hint of humidity it expands and takes on a life of it's own, better known as "frizz". Now I know there are shampoos and conditioners that claim they can tame frizz but I have yet to find one that can take on my hair on a rainy day, or a foggy day and especially a windy, rainy foggy day (not a chance).

So I've tried a number of things. Let's take a look shall we? Fair warning - I do not photograph well hence the reason I'm usually on the other side of the camera.

There is a blow dry till you die and then finish it with a straight iron method:


There is the add some mousse and let the curl just happen method


There is the just let it dry method (I don't recommend this one - it is like the mousse method but worse). Note - this was taken on a non-humid day. Just multiply this by X4 on a humid day and you get the picture.


So what I have resorted to is often letting it grow long in the summer so I can ponytail the masses when humidity takes over and Medusa complex sets in. I've often considered cutting the lot of it quite short but with some curly and some straight....not sure how that would work out. Plus my husband get into a bit of a funk when I talk "short" hair.
Now my daughter, on the other hand, inherited my full head of hair without any of the frizz and no curl. She gets up in the morning, gives her head a little shake and voila - perfect. She doesn't even brush it....ever....
But me....this love/hate hair relationship just continues on. Someday, maybe when I'm all grown up we will have come to some sort of agreement. Until then, I will carry on, complete with mousse, flat iron, blow dryer and hair elastics.

Friday, March 12, 2010

Onion Denied

For the past 20+ years I have lived with a man who hates or better yet, detests onions.

That means no onions for me.
No onions to cook, smell or eat for over 20 years.
I miss French Onion soup, onions in my food, onions on my hamburger etc. etc.
I could, of course, continue to eat these but there would be no kiss good night for me.
Onions make my hubby literally gag so I have denied myself this right and privilege.
The other day my son had some hooligans, I mean friends, over to watch movies and one of them brought chips.
Sour cream and ONION chips to be exact. No one opened them so there they sat in our snack cupboard. Since I don't have onions in the house my kids then grew up never eating them, hence they are not that interested in them and believe me the hubby wasn't about to crack that bag open.
One day when I came home from work there they were....waiting for me. I'm usually very disciplined but my moments of weakness usually hit when I get home from work, tired, stressed and hungry.
I opened that bag of sour cream and ONION chips and had a few...had a few more....heaven help me. It's fake onion flavouring I know but onion all the same. A little blast from the past.
Once in a while a little contraband doesn't hurt....right?

Friday, March 5, 2010

Patriotism to the Max

If you live in Canada you can't help but to have been affected by the Olympics over the last couple of weeks. We've been transformed into a country of red and white, a country of flag waving and heartfelt anthem singing. It's everywhere. We are Patriotic to the max.
On the day of the big game (you know which one I mean - Canada's game - Hockey), we were in Toronto to get our daughter back to University.
Having spent a last couple of hours in an IMax watching Avatar we landed back in the lobby just as the game had ended.
"What's the score? Who won??" Everyone was asking.
And there on a TV over a bar we could see our men's Canadian Hockey team standing on the podium in the middle. A dead giveaway - we won. Heartfelt congratulations were exchanged and then we stepped outside onto the street to head home.
In the middle of downtown Toronto
Right after the BIG game that we had won.
I was not prepared.
If I had not known we had just won a hockey game I would have thought Godzilla was loose and stomping through town.
People screaming and yelling everywhere, on the verge of riot.
Cars honking and beeping everywhere
Flag, flags and more flags waving in the air.
It was true pandemonium.
As we inched our way through the streets in our car we stopped to let some of the crowd thin.
I stuck my hand up against the car window and received a resounding high five from some guy walking by - a red Canadian flagged mittened hand smacked the other side.
I saw the proverbial boyfriend helping the proverbial drunk girlfriend get home as sheyelled and wavied her flag.
I saw police doing their best to keep order and those same police also getting hugs and high fives from passers by.
Suddenly we heard this banging and I thought oh oh....gunshots! But no, it was a bunch of guys crowded into a truck with a snowblade on the front of it. As they headed down the street flags waving they banged the blade up and down on the road.
There was even a oneman band performing on a string of drums that surrounded his waist and blowing on a whistle. He sounded like a complete marching band on his own.
Talk about a victory celebration!
Go Canada Go!