Friday, July 31, 2015

Some People Are Never Satisfied, Not to Mention Any Names Mom.

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No kid likes wearing a coat,  especially on the prairies.  As soon as you can walk, you learn to never allow your parents to coat shop for a coat unsupervised.  It is a survival tactic all children know.

Left to their own devices, parents would get some huge puffy, durable thick brown or dark green, heavy coat that zips up from your calves to just below your eyes.  These things always have a zipped in extra lining that your parents fix so it can never be zipped out.  They are terrified of the potential of kids sipping and unzipping willy nilly throughout the long winter months.  They do this because they envision you, an extra pair of hands to work the land,  lost in the fields somewhere, wandering, blinded by the snow, freezing to death,  ... found at spring thaw, huddled in a frozen mass just a few feet from where the search cows gave up the hunt last winter.  It takes about 5 years to make a replacement for you that is of any use to the farm. Money can drive even the kindest people to desperate acts.  Most of those farmers may look docile but they are desperate underneath those coveralls.

Monday, July 27, 2015

The Lesson of the Blue Jeans, a Fashionary Tale.

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I had a gift for driving my grandparents to tears, especially when it came to clothes.

Buying a new pair of jeans took a lot of work.  You couldn't just buy them, wear them, and off you go.  First you had to make sure you got the right kind; Lees or Levis were the only permissible options.  Then you had to bleach them or make the jeans look old as hell.   That involved bleaching or making them filthy and grinding in the dirt, and washing them repeatedly. 

Anyone caught wearing deep blue, brand new, blue jeans were completely crossed off the guest list for the cool kids table at lunch.  Of course we had rebels, boys mainly, whose moms shopped for them at the local hardware store and bought them flannel and denim without any consideration for their child's social health.  I look back at some of those pics and shake my head.  Imagine walking out the door in the morning and looking over and seeing Dad, Grandpa, the drunk from down the road, and 50 other men in your farming community with the exact same outfit on?  Try that and then go to school and see if you can lean back against the lockers and wheel in the girls ... no way.   

Saturday, July 25, 2015

Life is One Big Costume Party, or it Should Be.

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I still think life would be much simpler if people wore costumes.  We don't always have time, or the inclination, as to inquire of people how their day is going and thus tailor our interaction so as to keep everyone alive.

If those women intending to play the role of the evil stepmother queen/witch etc were to dress the part, it would save so much heartache.  I would know to step away from the mirror the moment they enter the women's washroom .. . using the hand sanitizer in my purse as opposed to sticking around to wash my hands. And, I would say something like, "have you done something new with your hair?  You look so much younger today ... really nice!!"  That way the likelihood of getting stabbed or spit on are minimized.

Especially when neither blood or spittle go with your current costume.  And I don't have any that do.

Thursday, July 23, 2015

Prophesying For The Nation. When Dreams Come True.

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You may want to write this down somewhere because I had a dream and I am not 100% sure but it could be prophetic.

Whenever I see glitter or sparkles or people with white flowing anything ... I try to pay attention.  You would think that teachers in school would catch on to this and jazz up their wardrobe and their classrooms a little.  Can you  imagine the impact of teaching math if the teacher walked through the mist produced from a smoke machine and stood at his desk with a wand that shot out sparkles to direct our attention to the formulas on the boards?

I might not have climbed out the window every time he turned his back.

Just saying.

My life could have been completely different.

Wednesday, July 22, 2015

I Blame Rag Dolls and my Grandmother.

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I blame my extra weight on my grandmother telling me to pretend to be a rag doll and feel heavy in order to go to sleep.  Talk about brainwashing.  "Feel" heavy is just one step away from "be" heavy.

I bet no ballerina's mom ever said that to their kid and I really really wanted to be a ballerina.  Ok that is not true, I wanted to wear the shoes and the tu-tu's.  I was not in touch with the reality of hours of hard work bending your body in ways it is not meant to bend and breaking your toes in bloody pulps that for some reason we call it "art" and because there is movement "dancing" as opposed to the Chinese practice of binding feet and shuffling which we call "barbaric."

Tuesday, July 21, 2015

Sign Posts of Life.

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I like to carry warning signs around with me ... Like "out of order" for those people who just get on your nerves because they are wrong and they keep on talking long after you have pronounced them "idiots."   I mean there is absolutely no need for further evidence once the verdict is handed down, even if it supports my original sentence.  I consider it doing the rest of the world a favour.  No one likes putting money into a machine and not getting what they wanted, and then some smart ass admits it has not been working for the entire work.

Think teenagers ... they could wear the sign for most of 7 years and that sign could be sooo helpful.

Sunday, July 19, 2015

We May All Look Identical But We Aren't.

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I have a scar on my knee from where my brother pushed me off the brick fireplace and I hit the corner of it and massaged my knee into it on the way down to the ground.    When I peeled the scab off it looked like the grand canyon filling with the blood river.  It is probably the worst scar I have from my childhood

Tuesday, July 14, 2015

Dusting Off My Sanity.

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I was watching the kids commercials for toys on television one day when I was held captive by my grandchildren. 

Things have really changed.

When I was growing up we asked for permission to watch television and then we quietly sat down and watched Don Messer's Jubilee, Hockey Night In Canada or the news.  We never walked to the television and turned the channel.  We asked for permission to watch a show, pleaded our case, and accepted the verdict.  If we won, one of the parental units walked to the television and turned the knob.

Then I grew up and I had kids.  That was bad enough.  That day when you are sitting there rocking and singing along with Mr. Dressup and Casey and you realize that you are not holding a baby, and there are no children in the room.  Like, where was that picture in the birth control section of sex-ed?    You know, when you go out with your friends finally for a night out and you have no idea who they are talking about because the only adults you have been around for the past 5 years are named Sharon, Lois and Bram. 

Friday, July 10, 2015

Thursday, July 9, 2015

My Confession

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I really should confess that I am a model in real life.

Early in my teens I modeled my own designs for the 4-H Clothing Club - a highly recognized fashion organization, setting the bar for fabulousity on the prairies.  People flocked to the spring show dying to see what was in for the new season.  I modelled a unique ironing mitt and a stunning apron.  They went right into my hope chest because you never know when you have a guy and he is thinking about marriage, not quite there, and then you can show him your apron and WHAM! He is over the edge and ready to walk down the aisle with you.  Nothing says commitment like a well made apron.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Heart On My Sleeve.

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You  know that old saying about wearing your heart on your sleeve?

What the hell does that even mean?   Everyone knows you have a heart right?  Or they can guess.  A good rule of thumb is that if you are alive, you have a heart in there that works but even if you are dead you still have a heart ... unless you are dead and there is a big gaping hole in your chest.  The first place I would look would be on your sleeve ... it might be there.    

I actually remember going through this as a kid.  By about age 5 I was pretty well convinced that adults were really scary people who were not only ridiculously stupid but they were dangerous.  Who put them in charge anyway??

Monday, July 6, 2015

The Plan.

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The case of the startled woman.

Lately I have been easily startled.

It comes from a lifetime of raising children and dodging bullets.  I am in permanent "fight or flight" mode ... Which, when you are no longer able to make snap decisions. results in a sort of deer caught in the headlights stance with a deep primal scream and sometimes, slight  peeing of the pants.

The screaming hurts hubby's ears.

Friday, July 3, 2015

The Rules of Meat.

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According to my husband we need to follow a strict dietary regime.

He decided he was going to do steak for dinner, however we got bogged down in minutia when it was discovered we neither had potatoes or enough salad items left to make a salad.  I suggested that we might go ahead and just, for one night, have chips/french fries with the steak.

No.

Ok I know that in the parallel universe my husband inhabits there is an order to all things that he somehow understands because I suspect, he created the "order."  I say this because I am not sure it makes sense to anyone but himself.  In his world one must have 87 varieties of vegetables with all your meals  AND the biggest amount of vegetables, which must be served at every meal, is carrots. 

I actually love vegetables, even carrots, but after years of 87 vegetables with every meal, including breakfast and any snack you might consider having, I hate carrots.

Wednesday, July 1, 2015

Choices of the Day.

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We have dead bunnies all over our yard.

Well ... technically ... parts of dead bunnies.

None of them were boiled so I am satisfied the hubby has not been having an affair with some psycho woman.  (yes yes, I know, he married one ... go sit down at the back of the room.)