Oh, something. I don't know.

I just finished writing something for the newsletter. It makes me even less likely to find something readable to blather about here, believe it or not.

I know. Just when you thought it couldn't get any worse.

----------

Remember the mouldy walls I mentioned (somewhat bitchily, although I think understandably so) earlier? Well, the update on that is that the workmen show up excruciatingly early every day to do a little more work in the bathroom. Now, it should be said before I go any further that I'm generally up at godawful in the morning (not that I like to be, but at this point I'm resigned to it), but being awake doesn't necessarily equal being ready for public consumption. If I don't have to be at work early I'll stay in pyjamas and pillow head until the last possible minute, lying on the bed and watching the previous night's recorded late shows with one opened eye.

I not sure why on the one opened eye part, but it always seems to work out that way. Maybe because the other eye is often still buried in the pillow?

Could be.

Anyway, what with the daily morning wall-mudding and sanding (I hope to Whomever that they're actually going to paint today), I've had to be up and put together (more or less) by eight o'clock these past few days. Oh, I know it's my apartment and there are no rules saying that I can't open the door for the workers while still wearing my pyjamas, but the facts are that A) I never know how much access I'll have to the bathroom while the men are working, and B) no one really needs the joy of me in pyjamas and pillow head. With one opened eye...

Er, yeah.

The problem with all of this is that once I'm up, combed, dressed, and fed, I may just as well go to work. And the problem with that is that I'm one my last week of part-time work before summer hours start, so I'd be much happier NOT being here early until I have to be.

For that matter, I'd be much happier in my pyjamas and pillow head.

I like pyjamas.

Pillow head, not so much... but it kind of goes with.




Ah well. Not much to be done (except whinge. I'm good at that part) until things in the apartment are put back together. Stay tuned for tomorrow's post where I will probably be complaining about the paint job (if they've started it), because I suspect that the management, having put actual money into repairs, will now try to save a few bucks by telling the men to only paint the new walls and leave the rest of the fifteen-plus-year-old scuzzy paint in that room alone to continue being scuzzy.

Do I need to remind you that landlords are officially on notice?

Well, they are.

Cake or death?

Actually, I'm afraid I only have the wine gums. Sorry for the slightly fuzzy photo, but I'm too lazy to take it again.

As for the post title, I'll leave it to you to google it if you don't already know the reference. I'm too lazy (sensing a theme here?) to do it for you.

And why did cake come up in the first place on a perfectly good wine gum day? Not sure. Apparently the Toronto office is short of adoration or something. I wasn't entirely clear on that point.

Oh, and I should mention before I move on that today's pointless photo also stars the blue therapy putty, the giggle stick, a small elephant, and a deck of cards. All necessary equipment in the modern office, I'm sure you'll agree.

----------

Ok. All of the above was typed a while ago, but in the meantime our internet server had a bit of a pout. Now I'm not really in the mood to add anything to it, and I have fake food waiting for me besides.

Erm... working late tonight. Real food will come later.

And a real post will come...?





Come on, people. You know me better than that.

Oops

Yeah. Kind of unexpectedly disappeared from cyberworld for a couple of days there.

Best not to ask.

I see a dog's arse appeared on the blog in my absence, though. Should I take that as a compliment... or a hint?

----------

Oh wait. There's something I have to do before I go any further:

*shakes the hell out of the t.v. club*

ARE YOU PEOPLE AWAKE YET?



You'd better be. And if I hear anyone complaining that it was on a different night than you were expecting it to be, I can promise you now that I will have NO sympathy. None at all.

It's not like you haven't been warned.

----------

Ok then. This is the part where I say I have nothing for the blog. I do have a headache, but it's mine and the blog can't have it.

You see, the problem with the disappearance of the snow (yes, it's pretty much gone now) is that it marks the reappearance of the pollen. And that, boys and girls, is the reason for the current headache.

And the current mood.

And, incidentally, I'm a bit confused as to whether a plain old ocarina that someone's put a neck on really does count as a loon whistle.

Oh, hold on a sec... here. Loon whistle. What do you think? Is it an ocarina or not? And isn't it slightly wrong to be blowing into a loon's back end?

Hmm. That's the second mention of a bum in one post, you know. Not sure what meaning to attach to that. Maybe it's better not to ponder.





Did I mention the headache? Let's just blame that, then.

It's convenient, if nothing else.

Pointless and late in the day ... night even

And due to the time of night it is, you get a dog's behind.

It made me wonder if this is how the Alberta contingent spent (or is possibly still spending) those few days with the new snow on the ground ... you know, in denial, head buried.

It would certainly work for me.


Or possibly the pic just shows the pup's comment on the world; possibly echoing that of the owner of the blog recently, for that matter.


Again, works for me too.

And yes, cheated a little in having used a slightly different version of this same photo previously ... sue me. I mentioned it's late right?

Honestly?

I have no idea what to blather about.

I'm tired, my brain hurts, I haven't been able to shower in two days (and before you say anything snotty, I have been able to bathe. It's just the shower that's out of commission at the moment), and I've been trying to make myself work on the newsletter.

All of the above? Not so great for the head.

Neither is snow in April. You know, in case you wondered.

----------

I suppose I should be telling you why the shower is out of commission, shouldn't I? I thought about it, but by now I'm so pis ticked off about the whole thing that I'm not sure I want to get into it. Let's just say that it was an unwelcome surprise to finally get back to my own place on Thursday only to find that large parts of two walls in the bathroom were MIA. And why? Because the management's COMPLETELY STUPID decision to "fix" the old, crappy tiles around the tub by gluing a cheap plastic tub-surround directly over top of them a few years ago has led to a serious mould problem, that's why.

Not. Happy.

I was talking to the contractor who's now trying to correct things, and he told me that they'd done the same thing in numerous other apartments in the same building.

Makes me wish I was the litigious sort, really. That'd be a pretty interesting lawsuit, all things considered.

Anyway. I should (fingers crossed) be able to use the shower tonight if all goes well. And, with any luck, maybe you'll be reading a little less about headaches and other physical whinges in the next while. Hell, the way I see it, even the idea of having the mouldy wall out of my life should make me feel better about... well, pretty much everything.

Except landlords.

To borrow a phrase from Stephen Colbert, they're now officially on notice.

Pointless photo

This is what we do with our day sometimes.

Why do I share this, you wonder.

Because you really, really don't want to hear how my week has gone.


So ... enjoy the happy pups. Become one with the happy pups. Beeeeeee the pups.

Pointless photo of the day:

It's a darner. Can't remember what species without looking it up, and since I'm not in the office that's not going to happen.

So there.

----------

So how's the snit going, Dee?

Oh, somewhat abated. The sun is shining on the snow, and I'd expect that I'll actually make it down the highway sometime this afternoon.

Never thought I'd be winter-storm housebound this time of year, but if I had to be housebound it was just as well that I was visiting my father at the time. I'd be even more stir crazy if I'd been stuck in the apartment for the last few days.

I miss my stuff, though.

Seems to me I say that every time I end up back at the parental abode for longer than I was expecting. Must be true, then.

It's funny, because as I get older I find I'm less concerned with the "stuff" part of life. There are fewer things that I convince myself I need to be happy, and that's very much a good thing.

The stuff I have, however, is the stuff I'm used to. When I'm here at my father's place (or visiting somewhere else, for that matter) the stuff is different.

There's nothing wrong with different stuff, of course. I'm not so routine-obsessed that having different stuff is a major problem. It's just that my stuff is more familiar. More comfortable, maybe. And since it's mine, I can do whatever I want with it.

Ah, there we have it. Taking ownership of life's stuff. A good thing, do you think?





I really have nothing for the blather today. Can you tell?

Yeah, me too.

I should stop typing then.





Ok.

Pointless photo of the day:

A note for everyone in Alberta in regards to today's pointless photo:

THIS IS WHAT A FLOWER LOOKS LIKE.

Just thought I'd remind you, since the three-day (or are we up to four-day by now?) blizzard may have caused some people to forget that such a thing as a flower exists.

This weather (which I refuse to go out and take pictures of. Everyone should already know the look of winter, and right now that's the look that our spring has chosen to model) is starting to get to me juuust a little. I was ok on the first day because I know that storms pass and snow melts. I was ok on the second day for much the same lame-assed optimistic reason, but my ok was starting to wear a little thin.

I've run out of ok now.

It didn't help that I actually had to leave the house today and experience the windchill and bad roads first-hand.

Dirty Moe very nearly got stuck in one unploughed intersection. Sounds like a minor difficulty, I know, but if you're me (and if you are, perhaps you should let me know so that we don't accidentally run into each other sometime and cause the universe to implode), getting stuck in the snow when you're by yourself and the wind is making it seem like it's almost -20C is NOT a thing to look forward to.

Oh, irony. I've just previewed this post and I see that the pointless photo isn't even coming up at the moment. Ah well. I'll leave it for now and see if the photo thingy manages to be a little happier in the future. If it isn't, I'll upload something later. It figures, though, that the one time I bother to actually refer to the pointless photo rather than simply use it as unrelated window dressing for a post, it's buggered up.

Goes with the rest of my day, somehow.

And... the snit seems to be getting worse as I type. I think maybe I'll stop typing now, if my two fans are all right with that, before I'm entirely taken over by snittitude.





Happy thoughts... happy thoughts...






Oh, shut up.

Pointless photo of the day:

Just me playing with one of my hand drums again.

You have to find something to play with when the weather's too crappy to bother being outside, you know.




Oh, I should have said that you'll have to excuse the mood this morning. The snowstorm isn't helping, naturally, but the current state has a bit more to do with lack of sleep than anything else. Now I know I mention lack of sleep fairly often in the blather, but usually it has more to do with general insomnia and less to do with the smoke detector deciding at 2 am that it wasn't happy with its battery.

And before anyone reminds me that I'm supposed to check/change the battery in the smoke detector when we change the clocks, just let me state that it isn't actually my smoke detector. The lovely road conditions (did I tell you the part about the snowstorm?) meant that I didn't go home yesterday as I usually do, so I'm still at my father's place.

And this, of course, means that I'll likely be working on the weekend since I'm not working today. Especially considering that the weather isn't looking too promising even now.

Ah well. What can you do besides whinge and beat your head against the keyboard (which I haven't done, to be honest, since it's not my keyboard)?

You can play with your hand drum, I guess.

But I've already done that.

So what else?

Well...

I suppose we could look at another deer photo, couldn't we?

Yes, I think we could.

That ought to do it for me and my crankiness for the moment.

Before I go, though, a quick reminder to the t.v. club that you'll soon enough have to wake yourselves up. That's right, the new episodes are actually on the horizon. Another rerun tonight, I understand (but from this season), and then all new starting next Monday.

And about fricking time, really.

And today's interruption was...

Monkeys.

Ok, so they're not monkeys. It'd be cool if they were though, wouldn't it?

These mule deer (and yes, the photo was taken this morning. Don't even ask me about the current snowstorm) have been hanging out in the neighbourhood -- and eating the tulips -- largely because a new development up the hill destroyed their former habitat. They've gotten altogether too used to humans, as this zoomless shot illustrates. I have a few pictures that are even closer, but I couldn't resist posting the one where I'm being given the raspberry.

If you didn't notice the tongue, click on the photo to make it bigger. Both the photo and the tongue, even.

Needless to say, time spent playing with deer photos has pretty much killed any hope of this blog post having an actual topic.

Ah well. You people are used to that by now.

Passenger

Before I start, I should say that Max is, in fact, lying directly on top of Penny in today's pointless photo.

Max is also, in fact, part cat and part leech.

Ok, so maybe that's not actual fact. It sure seems like it sometimes, though.

----------

Given today's post title, did everyone get yesterday's Iggy Pop reference?

Come on. It was an easy one.

Fiiine then. Gimme a sec...

Here we go. Incidentally, you should check out one or two of the live versions as well. I did.

Now, would anyone like to know what that song has to do with anything? I hope you do, since I promised I'd try to make a half-decent post this time around and it's what I'm going to talk about.

Passengers, that is.

I'm one.

Maybe not in the way the song means, but I definitely have the passenger mindset. This became abundantly clear yet again this week when I had to drive out of town for a program at a school.

I get unreasonably nervous when I have to drive anywhere that I don't have a fairly complete mental map for. And why? Well, first of all I don't especially like driving. If I lived in a part of the world where I could go about my daily business without the need to drive, I would happy send Dirty Moe off to the crusher in the sky without much of a second thought. That's not very realistic around here, unfortunately, so I suck it up and tool around town in my semi-loved car (you don't give things nicknames if you completely loathe them, do you?).

Having to get myself to a place like an out-of-town school also messes with my OLF sensibilities in a big way. Obsessiveness goes hand in hand with control issues, and if I'm driving somewhere unfamiliar there's a pretty good chance I could get lost or be late or have the car break down or...

Yeah. You get the picture.

The biggest problem with trips like that, however, is that I really do prefer to be a passenger. I like to watch the world go by without having to worry about what's coming up in the road. I know that there are plenty of people out there who have a need to take the wheel (and I'm not speaking metaphorically here), but I'm not one of them. I'd sooner relax. If we had such a thing as passenger service here, I'd be all about riding the train to just about anywhere it would take me.

This occasionally leads to difficulties. When you're doing the passenger thing and enjoying the scenery as you go, you often haven't got a clue where you are when you actually get there. Or if you do have a clue where you are, there's not much chance that you'd be able to retrace the steps that got you there without a Hansel and Gretel style trail of bread crumbs.

And if you remember, the bread crumbs didn't work out so well for Hansel and Gretel.

What I'm trying to say in a roundabout way (and with a slight tinge of embarrassment) is that the school I visited this week is one that I go to almost every year for a special event, but even then I didn't quite know where it was because up until now I'd always been happily belted into the passenger seat and pretty much completely oblivious as to where it was we were going.

Sad, really.

And it made for an interesting trip this week, what with me and my nervousness and my Google Maps printout which might have given decent directions except for the part where the route was blocked by construction...

Relax. I made it ok. Just had to do a bit more circling around than I'd planned to, and only sort of lucked into an alternate route out of town when I was done with the afternoon's presentation.

It's so much easier to be a passenger, you know.






I'm done blathering now. If you need something more, watch this. That's what I'll be doing... or at least that's what I'll be doing after I get some lunch.

Pointless whatever of the day:

Yeah, I know. Blogging's been a bit on the light side for the past few days. It's about to be light again today, and for two reasons. Number one is that I'm not especially in the mood, and number two is the cat who's insisting on sitting on my lap while I type.

It's not making the process any easier, I can assure you.

Anyway, I do have a topic that I could probably blather on tomorrow. You'll just have to remind me what it is, that's all.









What? You want to know how you're supposed to remind me?
Well... geez. Do I have to do everything in this relationship?




Ok, fine. Just mention Iggy Pop or something. That'll probably send the brain in the appropriate direction.

Later, then. Say goodbye to the people, Max.

Pointless excuse of the day:

I'm too busy to blog.

The end.

Of this post, anyway.

Pointless photo of the day:

Early Blue Violets may not actually be blue, but they definitely qualify as early.

That's going to be it for today, by the way. I've had a couple of days of tired and cranky, and I don't feel the need to share it... or at least not any more than I already have by mentioning it.

You're welcome.

Don't mind me...

I see the Toronto office has beat me to the blather, and that's fine in my books. I like holidays.

Mostly I'm just posting to show all and sundry (or at least my two fans) that my father's crocusses are up.

Not all of the crocusses look like that, however. Remember what I was saying about the deer/tulip problem (the father figure's remaining tulips are now living in cages. I guess maybe he's worried that they'll decide to take revenge somehow)? Well, they (the deer, that is. Not the tulips) attempted the crocusses too.

Most of them look more like this now:

Oh well. It's still colour.

----------

One other thing before I go, and this comes up every year around this time for me. I'm not going to say whether I'm for or against the seal hunt because the information I have is, quite frankly, incomplete. I am, however, definitely against the seal hunt protesters, and for one important reason: would you people be so up in arms about things if seals weren't cute?

I mean, seriously. Where were you when, for example, the cod were being fished out? Where are you as millions of amphibians disappear? Frogs not pretty enough to be poster children for you?

Imagine what you twits activists could do if you took that energy you use yelling about seals and applied it to something that perhaps isn't cute and fuzzy but is still just as important to the environment as a whole. I for one am not holding my breath waiting for that, but I suppose stranger things have happened.

Might be something to think about.

Not even a whole dog, no

The important feature in this photograph is the stick.

It must be important to have me usurp the blog owner's inherent right to first post of the day.

There is construction going on in the neighbourhood park, which is to say a pipeline being laid.

Around the site there are various signs and surveyors' markers. Some of the sticks are made of pine. When said sticks are tossed about by dogs they become soft and oh yes, gentle reader, have spikey bits which can seemingly fire splinters up to 20 feet. They are porcupine sticks, yes.
For clarity and in reporting the facts: neither "throws" anything. Just so you know.

Anyway, being a good mom, I play with the dogs; we don't just go walking like most other people. I can tell you unequivocally that if held at just the right angle while putting one's weight forward to the right foot, whilst holding the tongue just so, tossing a soft-ish stick at a 30-degree angle fetches one a splinter under the skin which can actually puncture the surface and embed itself four layers down and out of reach of tweezers, sewing needles, thumb-tacks and the poking by fingers of the other hand.

I tell you this because? Well I tried to impart to my texting buddy what had happened and why she hadn't heard from me in a few days via cheap telephone method .... and my provider lost half the text message.

My message did leave an interesting half-thought, though. It left off at "I picked up". Now, the end of the real sentence was "a sliver the size of the iceberg that took the Titanic down" ~but~ did she think I had picked up a good book, a case of the heebie-jeebies, a sailor....
And frankly since she knows a little bit about my past, I thought it prudent to provide the photo and the accompanying explanation.

There now. We can all go on about our business.

And by the way, it still hurts like a bu... it still hurts to use those tiny buttons to send text messages. At least here I can turn the space-bar thumb sideways.

Happy freakin' Monday.

Pointless fortune cookie moment of yesterday:

Erm... not to say that there was a spider in my fortune cookie. The photo is, as usual, pointless. Let's move on to the fortune cookie part of the post, then.

My fortune, as of yesterday's buffet, read: Share your abundant humour with others at this time. They need it.

Really? You folks need my abundant humour?

Gosh, I wish I'd realised. I would have put a lot more effort into the blather.

Honestly, though, if my sense of humour is what's needed, I'm more than a little worried for the world in general. My sense of humour is decidedly... hmmm... how to describe it...

Odd?

I'll admit to having a well-developed sense of the absurd, if that helps. I also tend towards moments of goofiness, sarcasm, and five-year-old-ism. Not generally at the same time, thank goodness, but they can show up in rapid succession.

As to what makes me laugh, I'd expect that my two fans have a decent idea by now. One of the reasons I find myself attracted to British sketch comedy is that I love the clever use of language, but at the same time I'm happy to laugh at complete and utter silliness. If the language and the silliness are in the same program (which, obviously, the two links weren't), so much the better.

Agh. While looking for those two clips I managed to find something else and now I want to go watch it. Sucks to be the blog sometimes. You don't quite get the priority you probably should.

Ah well, I'll put the other site on pause for a moment and see if I can't wrap this up somehow.

How?




Yeah, yeah, I'm thinking. Hold yer horses, already.








Ok, how about this? Lots of things make me laugh. Sometimes things that shouldn't, true, but overall I can find plenty to laugh at in the world and it makes me happy.

Do I make anyone laugh in return? Occasionally, yes. Sometimes on purpose, and sometimes just by existing.

In other words, I'm a human being.

More or less.

And is my "abundant" sense of humour needed by others? Frankly, I think we all need to have abundant senses of humour to carry on in the world as it is. If you can't laugh, then what the hell's the point of anything?

Geez. Deep, Dee.

Or, you know, not.



I'm off to watch this now. You can too, if you want. It's worth a laugh.

Pointless photo of the day:

And I think that's all I'll bother with today. I had something but decided I didn't like it when I started typing.

We all have those days, I imagine.

On a totally different subject, remind me to tell you sometime about the weird search engine hits I've been getting lately. It's confusing and amusing at the same time to see what kinds of things bring people to the blog. It also sort of makes me wonder why the people who are specifically searching for the blog (yes, there actually are one or two, judging from how long they stay) choose the terms they do to find it.

Am I really that weird?





And you do know that almost any answer you give to the above question will earn you a shut up, right?

Just checking.

See you tomorrow.

----------

Ok, edited a few hours later to say that today I saw my first butterfly of the season, along with my first ladybird beetles and my first outdoor spiders.

Guess which got their pictures taken?

Yeah... you'll probably find out soon enough, since I've been short of recent photos lately.

Pointless oxalis photo of the day:

And that'll be about it. It's late, I've had a fairly bad head day, and I've got nothing.

Except maybe a new nickname, judging from the Toronto office's comment on yesterday's post.

Muffinbrain.

Can't quite decide if that's a step up or a step down from Gimpy the Wonder Klutz...

Pointless dragonfly photo of the day:

Left over from last summer, yes. We haven't had a pointless dragonfly photo for a while, though.

----------

I'm going to try to keep this short today because I really should get to work and I haven't actually managed that yet. It's a problem when you're working flexible part-time hours and... well, and you're me. I come in, check e-mail, surf around for a bit, and then eventually maybe get on to the real business of business.

Don't worry. I only claim for the time I'm really working. Sometimes it makes for a short day, but I do try to be honest about things.

It'll be a real shock to the system next month (ack! I just realised that it's less than a month away) when I'm back on full-time hours. May as well prepare for the whining and moaning now, because I'm sure it will be a constant theme for at least the first couple of weeks of May.

Unless, of course, the Toronto office comes up with something more entertaining.

Anyway, I'm off to work now. Assuming I can figure out what that whole work concept is...

Muffinmouth

The pointless photo is, of course, not of muffinmouth.

Just thought I'd make that clear.

I was going to explain muffinmouth, but on second thought it should maybe be muffinbrain instead.

Let's just say that I've been having a day where I'm about as comprehensible as someone who's just scarfed an entire double chocolate muffin at once and then tried to sing the Seguidilla. Erm... the aria from Carmen, I mean. I was going to link to a video, but then I decided I wasn't in the mood to warn everyone about the unexpected opera content. You can google it yourself, if you like.

And let's just take it on faith that it would be a little difficult to sing the Seguidilla with a mouthful of muffin. I'd find it difficult, at least.

It's a fun song to sing without the muffin, though.






Sorry. Where was I?

Right. Muffinbrain. I've been having trouble speaking in actual English words today, which is unfortunate seeing that English is, in fact, my native language. My only language, if you don't count the assorted bits of bastardised French I remember from school or the occasional stray Italian or German phrase that I picked up from too many years of singing lessons.

Yes, I really am capable of singing the Seguidilla. Not with a mouthful of muffin, but otherwise I'm not terribly bad.

It's always been a mystery to me that someone who makes her living by communicating and, when in front of a group, does it pretty well (all things considered) can have so many moments of muffinmouth as soon as she's back in the office.

Hmm. When exactly did I turn into the third person? That's kind of weird, really.

There are days when it's damned near impossible for me to speak in comprehensible sentences in the office. It amuses the hell out of Wheat, apparently, who has (just to give an idea of how serious the muffinbrain has been today) admitted that there are days where he wonders how I managed to make it in to work all by myself.

The days where internal thoughts don't seem to be able to maintain a functioning connection with the real world, that is.

If there is a real world.




I keep threatening to discuss the concept of reality on the blog, but have you noticed that I never seem to get to it? I think it must be gathering dust on the same shelf as the subject of whether normality actually exists.

And note how I say normality, not normalcy. I *hate* that word, and if you people keep insisting on using it I shall have to register an official complaint.

Um...

I've lost the thread somewhere, haven't I?

Ah well, I suppose that's appropriate for a muffinbrain day. In my own defence I should inform you that Wheat has Eddie Izzard playing (well, one of his CDs. I'm not sure what we'd have to do to convince the man himself to drop by the office) and it's making it extra fun to try to focus the non-focussing brain on a blog entry.

Every futile action should be given up at some point, and I think this is the point where this one will raise the white flag. Exit, singing:

Près des remparts de Séville,
Chez mon ami, Lillas Pastia
J'irai danser la Séguedille
Et boire du Manzanilla.
J'irai chez mon ami Lillas Pastia...

Moan moan moan

Today's pointless photo is of the father figure's slingshot. He uses it to keep stray cats out of the yard.

Oh, relax. He doesn't aim at them. Just near enough to be convincing.

----------

So, on to moaning. I spent part of the morning with a group of exchange students, and it's safe to say that we mutually managed to pick out about one out of every three words that was said between us. Thank heavens for translations, but I have to admit that my head hurts a bit.

What hurts more than a bit is my ankle. Remember me whinging about it a few days ago? Well, things have since got bad enough that I actually put on the *choose your favourite expletive* brace before work today.

I hate braces. I hate buying braces (at this point in my effed-up ankle's career I can get away with store-bought athletic braces, and my budget's thankful for that) and I hate wearing braces. I hate the way they stretch my shoes, and I hate trying to wash the funky smells out of them after they've been worn for a few days in a row.

Yeah, fun.

It doesn't help that the mere act of wearing a brace accentuates the limp. Sure, my ankle may not be as sore by the end of the day as it would be otherwise, but my knee won't be at all happy.

Kind of like I'm not much happy about the brace situation as a whole.

Bet you hadn't guessed that part though.

----------

I've been trying to think of a way to end this nonsense on a happier note since, after all, I'm not in nearly as bad a mood as I probably sound. The usual would be to link to some pointless video from That Place, but since the Toronto office seems to be questioning my taste (should I have mentioned that I like the last thing I linked to? Come on. Ya gotta love it) I'm feeling like coming over all shy and refusing to look for anything for a while.

I keep trying to tell you people that I'm a five-year-old, but does anyone believe me?

Fine then. Gimme a sec...

Here.

Don't say I never do anything for you.

Pointless pouty dog of the day:

It's a bit late because I'm working late today.

Late usually means I have nothing to say. Have you noticed?

And yes, today's not going to be any different.




Ok then.

Pointless photo of the day:

It was a day from last year, but hey. I'm tired of it sitting on my nerdstick.

Besides, there might not be any tulip photos this year. The deer have had a bit of a go at them, unfortunately (a go at the tulips, that is. Not the tulip photos). This should probably be the part where I rail against the deer because I rather like tulips, but since I also rather like deer I'm just going to say that at least we still have the daffodils.

Besides, we may still get a few tulips. They'll just look like they've had haircuts, that's all.

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Since we're talking about pointless photos (we are, aren't we?) I should mention that I've added a pointless photography slideshow to the sidebar. Sometimes it doesn't load at first shot; if that happens and you're desperate to see it, just refresh the page and it should come up. Clicking on a photo will take you to its home on the web album, where (as an added bonus) you can see my witty twitty caption for it as well.

Oh, and I should make it clear that I take sole blame for any of the photos you see in the slideshow. The Toronto office's are in a separate album (gee. I wonder if she knows that?), and if she wants a slideshow she'll have to set it up herself.

So there.

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And now...

Well, now what?

I think I'm out of stuff, come to think of it. That's as good a hint as any to just stop typing.

So I will.

Later, all.

Watch your step

Consider this a homage to The "Blog" of "Unnecessary" Quotation Marks. You can find it over on the sidebar to the right. I'm too lazy to link today.

I'm not, however, too lazy to find it amusing that the French warning apparently didn't need unnecessary quotation marks. Make your own joke there.

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Since we're already watching our step, so to speak, let's talk about limping... mostly since I don't really have much else on my mind just at the moment. You know how it goes. My blog, my rules.

Unless the Toronto office overrules me, I guess.

Anyway. Limping. I do. Limp, that is. Sometimes it's only a subtle limp, sometimes it's extremely obvious, but it's always there. It stems from a track and field accident back in junior high that my two fans have already heard about (ad nauseum) so I won't bother giving the gory details again. We'll just say that a person's left ankle apparently isn't supposed to go in that particular direction (and especially not that emphatically), and I've been paying for it ever since.

Limping, for those who've never tried it on a full-time basis, isn't a lot of fun. It's not a natural movement for the body, and the body has a tendency to let you know it. Your joints complain, your muscles ache, and things just generally feel out of line if you've spent the day on your feet.

And that's not even touching how loudly the offending joint itself complains.





Anyone wondering why limping is on my mind this morning?

You should be. It'd be polite to, after all.

The fact is that I've officially entered my aching-and-limping season. It happens every spring. The ankle starts to scream bloody murder on a massively annoying scale, and I start approximating Quasimodo in my gait.

Er... without the hunchback, though. I'll give myself that much.

For years I couldn't figure out why spring should be so bad on the limp front, but the answer was stupidly simple (as they often are). Spring is shoe-changing season. Throughout the winter -- and often most of autumn as well -- I'm in boots. Good boots generally have fairly firm support, which means my leg doesn't have to work so hard to support the wonky ankle. Spring, though, means shoes.

And shoes, in the world of ankles, are evil.

I wear decent shoes (not much choice there) but even the best shoe won't have as much support as a good boot. Combine that with muscles that have got a bit lazy since the boots were doing the support work, and you get a very pleasant level of walking pain until everything finally sorts itself out again.

Oh, I should make clear that when I say a very pleasant level of walking pain you should be mentally adding the phrase if you're into that sort of thing.

I, however, am not.

Maybe I should try to be?

After all, if I attempted to put some sort of masochistic spin on the whole thing I could possibly start looking forward to the start of limping season instead of dreading it, right?






Nah. That'd be silly. Besides, it'd be far easier just to remind myself to wear my stupid brace.

I hate braces.

But I suppose that qualifies as another topic. Good clue to stop typing and change laundry loads, then.

Ok.

Off I limp...

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One more thing:

This.

No reason.

Pointless late photo of the day:

Yeah, it's late. I was otherwise occupied today, so you'll now just have to live with the fact that it's too late in the brain to blather and you're stuck with nothing but a photo of a couple of balls of cat on a rather ugly quilt.

I hope nobody's too terribly traumatised by this turn of events.

If you are, then I'd suggest that maybe some form of hobby is in order.

Like bowling, maybe.

I used to be a pretty good bowler, actually. Five-pin. None of that silly let's-roll-an-eighty-pound-ball-towards-far-too-many-obstacles stuff. I don't bowl anymore, though.

Come to it, I don't bowl any less either.

I don't really bowl at all. Not since I was a teenager.







Anyway.

I'm going now.

Bye then.




Feel free to let me know how the bowling went.

Bulbs and cereal

This is a quick snapshot of part of my front lawn. What you see here are bulbs brave enough to poke through the still mostly frozen ground ... and some sort of cereal we decided we didn't like but thought the squirrels might enjoy. We have odd animals around our house - and yes I heard that!! - we wonder too if it's the general aura so you needn't be snide.

I'd just like to report that the house is still standing but I won't be doing any laundry today. Shame, that. I guess that leaves more time to become one with the dogs. Oh how I wish to come back as an animal in a home identical to mine in the next go-round.

Hey we even have one degree running around out there already. The park should be in perfect form by one o'clock or so when we go for our stroll.

Note to self: keep your arms out. Bring flares.

It's spring, they say

And look, a robin.

So. If one were to look back in the baby Blather Blog (good use of alliteration especially if you know this is blather blog, part deux) almost two years to the day, one would see a post about dogs, about falling - or rather being slam-dunked to the ground by said dogs and their play-mate - and a host of other calamities.

Oh let us not be different on this day then.

Last night during our last wander out into the yard before bed, I found myself looking up at the stars. It was lovely really - and some of the stars were even real; the others caused by - yes you guessed it - a fall on the ice which had a thin film of moisture called spring run-off on it. Gosh, that's slippery stuff.

Now to know me is to know, as it turns out, that animals are (she said in an understated fashion) an important part of who I am so when I "walk them" that should be read as outsiders seeing a crazy woman who romps, calls out encouragement for good behaviour and just generally appears to be the loon you keep your children well away from.

Today during said romp, I tripped over the black dog and landed on the ground. Well where else does one land, after all, when feet and limbs become entangled. Check the date again. Yes, it's spring. Yes, there were/was four inches of muddy water in which I unceremoniously splooooshed. And got up and played for another hour. Why yes, I am that nuts.

So home we come. Two of the three of us were hosed down and towelled dry; one peeled away wet layers. Oh come on. You know who's who.

Having tossed things in the general direction of the laundry room, balling them up nicely so no mud escaped, I put on clean clothes and went forth to the *shudder* real world to get the day's errands done. That actually went quite well. I was able to check off everything on my list in almost record time with time left over to hit the store to compare prices on something-or-the-other.

I was home in no time, really and after shelving the dry goods and refrigerating "this" while leaving "that" out for dinner, I went to the basement to put a few things in the large freezer.

No, I did not fall into the large freezer. Don't be so silly.

Things needed to be sorted a bit so I closed the lid of the washer to have a flat surface to use. It's all good so far. The black dog had followed me to the basement so we were having a good chat - until she started barking. Goofy dog, I thought as I turned to suggest she be a little quieter.

Well it turned out she was barking at the smoke. The smoke coming from the washer which was, apparently, about to catch fire. It didn't take long before it occurred to me that perhaps unplugging said appliance might be a plan and so there you have it. I quit smoking many years ago; apparently my appliances need a support group.

That is how I spent the day. And apparently this is how I am going to spend the tax refund cheque.

The end.

Hey...!

I forgot to blog!

So here I am now!

And there was a discount on exclamation points today!

And I've got nothing!

So I should go!






And I think I will!

Pointless photo of the day:

That'll be about it for today, actually. Kinda tired, kinda cranky, and have other things to do.

Yes, occasionally I work at work.

I do, however, want to report a minor triumph in the office. We got a new photocopier yesterday. It's smarter than me. But...

I made it work!

Scan, even. A paperless copy of a doodle of mine (hmmm. Maybe I'll post it to the other blog when I'm finished here just to prove it exists) sent straight to my computer.

Isn't science wonderful?




Aren't I easily impressed?