One day this blog will have a snazzy name

You don’t mess with the coffee

neeroc — Wed, 01 Feb 2012 01:53:49 +0000

If there’s one thing I try to avoid doing it’s spending a lot of time thinking when I order food. More specifically breakfast, but lunch occasionally trips me up too. My ideal scenario is being presented a menu with pictures of every dish so I can point at them and grunt, and have the desired items magically appear.

You can see this rule in action in all aspects of my fast-food decisions – I go to Quizno’s for my sandwiches and not Subway. It’s why Burger King is easy and Harvey’s is hard (yes when I say everything I do in fact mean mayo, hot peppers and ketchup too. That’s why I said everything – eesh), now where was I? Oh ya, I go to Tim Horton’s for my coffee and not Starbucks. And it’s not just because I can get all this for the less than the price of what ever they call a large coffee:

That was a whole sub...I was really, really hungry on the drive back to the office

It’s also because it takes brainpower to order that white and green stuff whereas my tried and true, is well, my tried and true.

(insert record screech)

Or was. Was my tried and true, until last Monday. On that fateful day Tim Horton’s decided they needed a new size of coffee cup. Now I get that change is hard. I get that people are resistant and don’t like trying new things. So in the interest of fairness, I decided to wait a week before finalizing and voicing my opinion.

Their original (you Cliff Clavin’s out there can suck it, I don’t care if they ‘originally’ only had a 9.23oz coffee so keep your factoids to yourself) line up included the standards – small (who does that? and why bother?), med (aka a shot glass of coffee), large (diet sized) and extra large (mine). You went in to Timmies and you knew what you were getting.

And now they’ve gone and screwed it all up. You see, they didn’t just add a swimming pool sized coffee cup, they RENAMED ALL the damn sizes. For the life of me I can’t remember what a small is now, so I’ll go safe and call it ‘waste of time’ (it might be extra small – who is going to order that?). Medium is now small, large is medium, and XL is large, all to make room for this ridiculous 24oz coffee they call an extra large. What was wrong with ‘Maxi’ or ‘Mega’ or ‘Too much’ or ‘Bucket’o'?

l to r: bucket, used to be XL, and new XS

For a company that won’t take debit cards because it slows things down you’ve sure gone and shot yourselves in the foot. Now, not only does every customer have to run through the entire inventory before they order, but the cashiers are all prompting the customers with a ‘you know our sizes changed?’ speil. And for those that ignore the warnings, we’ve also got the slow down when they try to complain that they received the wrong size.

And even after all that, when I asked the cashier for a small cup (meaning the smallest) I received a small, not their smallest, otherwise and previously known as a medium:

Yes I went back a second time and asked for their smallest cup, no no, just empty thanks

Desperate times call for desperate measures:

I spent a lot of time taking pictures of coffee cups this week

The yardstick

neeroc — Sun, 29 Jan 2012 02:31:56 +0000

Do you ever have one of those days where you really wonder if whatever you’re doing is all just a big waste of time? Worried too that wondering about it is just more of a waste of time? (then, stressed that the worrying about the wondering…you see where this is going right?) I’ve found the yardstick. Don’t spend any more time wondering, worrying or stressing. Just ask yourself one simple question – Is it more or less useless than this:

If you’re doing something as or more useless than that, the answer is yes, if it’s less useless you may still have hope.

Now, if you find yourself on ebay, bidding $256.00 for this, get help and get it fast.

Everything is scary to a four year old.

neeroc — Wed, 25 Jan 2012 11:30:07 +0000

Last Saturday was a rare, if not first ever, family movie night. We appear to have exactly 4 movies suitable for a 4 year old, so I’m thinking this will be a limited run type thing. Either that or we’ll get Netflix and do a lot of fast forwarding.

Now I’m not sure what exactly the kids these days are watching,* but it looks like our meagre selection has to be heavily edited. Take for instance Finding Nemo. Seems perfectly innocent, once you get past the scene where EVERYONE DIES! Then there’s the chasing and the being lost and the…hmm, seems we’re down to three movies on our list. Lion King? Forget. It. So we’re left with The Muppets and The Aristocats.

Ah, one of my favourites, The Aristocats. I mean, who doesn’t love jazz-playing cats? (Yes I know Edgar is the answer) What I thought was a pretty darn feel-good movie caused quite a bit of anxiety for the little one. From the bumpy night ride in the back of Edgar’s bike, right up until the cats were comfortably re-installed on their plumped up cushions, this movie was fraught with tension and near death experiences in V’s eyes. V spent the entire time with her head ducked under my arm, snuggled up as tight as she could get, uttering the odd whimper and asking if it was over yet. She’s a sensitive one that little blondie of mine.

I do still have hope though, the next day’s review seemed a little more upbeat, and glossed over the ‘scarier’ parts. Oh, and her final takeaway? “Timbuktu is the storage closet for bad guys!”

Now if you’ll excuse me I’ve got some children’s movies to pre-screen.

*just as long as they stay off my damn lawn!

Alright, let’s just do this

neeroc — Mon, 16 Jan 2012 04:56:17 +0000

So ya. I haven’t blogged since before Christmas. I’ve got no good reason for dropping off the face of the earth, I just got busy, then sick, then lazy. Then I started going, ‘holy crap it’s been a long time’, and that turned in to an elephant, and I’ve got it stuck in my head that I somehow need to address this before I start babbling here again. Consider it addressed.

No I won’t be doing a recap of the last three weeks, I can barely remember what happened 3 hours ago. I won’t be doing a farewell post to the year, (we know how well that turned out last year!) and I won’t be making resolutions, because I’m sure any I would have made, I’ve already broken.

And since I’ve really got nothing else to say at the moment I’ll leave you with this, a creepy clown doll, in our kitchen, in heels.

No I don’t know why.

Today in pictures.

neeroc — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 03:12:41 +0000

An instagram trend I stumbled on at 10am, I’m not sure if it’s Andrea’s thing or not (I’ll be checking after I get the post up) but I followed #hourlyphoto from 10am until…10pm and here are the results:

10am:

11am:

12pm:

1pm:

2pm:

3pm:

4pm:

5pm:

6pm:

7pm:

8pm:

9pm:

10pm:

I was pretty impressed with my ability to actually remember on the hour. I think I only missed one of the shots, and it was only by 10 minutes. My 5pm was delayed in posting, but that was just because I was stuffing my face.
Hope everyone had a wonderful day, whatever you were doing.

Is it new years yet?

neeroc — Thu, 22 Dec 2011 04:35:01 +0000

Last Monday I woke up and thought it was Saturday. On Tuesday I convinced myself that it was Thursday. And on Sunday I hosted my first Christmas dinner!

The good news is I’ve learned how to cook an 8lb roast, I managed to avoid all foods allergic, disliked, despised or declared ‘poo’ and we determined we can fit another couch in our family room. And we have a decorated tree.

The bad news is when I counted I came up with 13 and there were really 15 for dinner, I forgot to hand out presents to the kids, and the basement is a disaster again!

The other bad news is I’m losing my ever-lovin’ mind, and not in a good way:
Today is garbage day. It’s also the day I work at home (one has nothing to do with the other but they are both background to the story). I had a lunch date and as I pulled out of the driveway I noticed the squirrels had gotten in to the garbage and there were some scraps on the ground. And I kept on driving. As I got to the restaurant hubby called and mentioned he’d be going home for lunch.

Had a great lunch, contemplated shopping but skipped it on the way home, and then pulled back in the laneway. As I did I made a (slight) mental note that the recycle had been picked up. I got out of my van, headed around the car and noted that someone had tidied up the squirrel mess. My first thought? ‘We have the *best* garbage men ever! I cannot believe the recycle guy would tidy that up and protect the rest of the garbage from the squirrels!’

I then head to the front door, put my key in and realize it’s unlocked. I’m not that worried, I know it’s totally possible that I spaced out, but I’m sure I remember locking it. It’s only once I’m completely inside and *see* hubby’s shoes that I realize he’s home (did I mention his car was in the laneway?) and our garbagemen (while they may still be fantastic) did not tidy the mess on the lawn.

Next up for your amusement? On Sunday I’m cooking dinner for those poor suckers called my family. The fire department and paramedics are on standby.

Wordless Wednesday: Baby shower edition

neeroc — Thu, 15 Dec 2011 02:08:44 +0000

Baby shower Christmas tree

Party like a four year old!

neeroc — Wed, 14 Dec 2011 03:22:08 +0000

Because I’m clearly insane I decided to host not one, but two parties for V this weekend; Saturday night we had the families over for dinner, twelve of us in total. We ate, drank and were merry, and she was totally spoiled. Do you know what takes a really, really long time to do? Placing approximately 8 zillion tiny little icing stars on a cake:
Do you know what I did 3 times this weekend? Yep:

This picture tells me two things. One is to take better pictures, and the second is that my house elves are lazy. Yes that wrinkled silence cloth (tablecloth was already in the wash), 1/2 cake and mess in the background are the aftermath of the first party.

The front cakes were for the second party, the one where we invited 13 kids (and the parents who were nuts enough to stay) over for a sugar-fueled, noise-maker enhanced, prince and princess party:

Aftermath:

You do not want to look too closely at that carpet. My current plan is to lock the door until Thursday and then see how the house elves have gotten on with the cleaning.

Oh, and sleep for a week.

One month later

neeroc — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 16:45:52 +0000

Did you know I went on a non-knitting knitting retreat a month ago? No I didn’t think so; because I never posted about it.

Now when I say it was a non-knitting knitting retreat, I mean specifically for me. There were 60 or so perfectly organized, non-procrastinators who managed to sign up for the knitting class portion of the trip and attended the official program. I just wasn’t one of them.

Every year a contingent of knitwits head to Gananoque on the first weekend in November to attend the Sheeps Ahoy Needler’s Retreat. Not only could I not miss the fun, I would also take a month to blog about it.

I’m sure this year’s program was brimming with wonderful sessions, given by awesome ladies, imparting their considerable knowledge. I’m sure that if I hadn’t been a slacker and had been able to get my registration off to Deb in time I’d have attended more than just the vendors market and meals. Sadly, I am a considerable slacker, one who got her act together just in time to get her name on the waiting list…in the 13th position. Now considering there are a total of 60 places at this retreat, I was fairly well assured that short of illegal activities on my part I would not be part of the program.

And you know what? I was all good with that. Yep, I was all good with three days of hanging around, taking pictures, NOT rushing off to class, but chatting with friends and wool fondling. Saturday I hung with another slacker (place #14 on the waiting list *fistbump*) and Sunday I spent some time lying in the flower gardens playing with my camera. I also managed to cram in a camera session at sunrise and another at sunset. I did miss a gorgeous frosty Saturday morning, opting instead for the breakfast buffet. Mea culpa. You know what else I was all good with? Sleeping in.

So without further ado here are the results of my non-knitting knitting weekend:

The other side of sunset

Moonrise

I love this house and would have gone closer but I was afraid there was someone with a shotgun in there.

I made my friend Snorie stop all over the highway so I could snag some pics.

Saturday night we were without wireless for about five hours. Now I know why it was so hard to troubleshoot.

Sunrise (yes I did manage to catch one)

Letter to the birthday girl

neeroc — Thu, 08 Dec 2011 04:29:52 +0000

You turned 4 today. Last year when you turned 3 I went and got all mushy. This year I’m just too damn tired. You dear are exhausting. That may be the downside of being really, really grown up when you have your kid, but you keep your father and I entertained, enthralled and amazed. Also? On our toes, we never know what crazy observation you’re going to come out with.

A couple of firsts -

First time skiing,

first dentist visit,

first car race,

first time I realized you might be a better skater than me

and first sleepover!

First time sleeping in a tent.

It was a year full of change for you. We moved, you changed daycares twice, you started school, said goodbye to your best friend and had your beloved cousins move to India, all in the space of 4 months. There was a while there where we feared we broke you; where we were ready to turn back time and leave you in your lovely daycare, us in our little house, but then September came, you moved to your current daycare, started school and really hit your stride. I’m sorry we left you in that first new daycare for so long, we were afraid another sudden change would be too hard on you, when really the exclusion and kids’ verbal barbs were so much worse – if only we’d known.

Arts and crafts have to be your greatest passion, and quite frankly I’ve never seen an artist as prolific as you. Basing my assessment solely on the contents of your back-pack every day, I’d have to say you’re working very hard on developing your confetti cutting skills. Glueing is also a new favorite and you aren’t afraid to see just what will stick. We have so far been lucky that you’ve restricted your artistic endeavours to paper, let’s keep it that way for the upcoming year (yes, for the purposes of this letter I’m going to ignore the fact that you coloured your nose red with a dry-erase marker last night).

But just in case you do take to drawing on the walls, you’ve already acquired the skills to right your wrongs:

You have a great imagination and will spend hours playing with your dolls and stuffies, calling them your kids. You love playing teacher, or mommy and daddy. Sometimes I’ll sit in the office at the bottom of the stairs just listening to you go from room to room, calling one home, one work, one school. Drop the kids off, go to work, pick the kids up, have dinner, and repeat. Dressing up is still a favorite, my heels fascinate you and I love seeing you wear your extensive purse collection. Yes, all of them at once.

Ah the purse collection. The best part of these for me is that they weigh a tonne. Why you ask? Because they’re all stuffed with rocks. You can’t step foot outside the door without finding a new favorite, special one.

I love when you take an interest in my hobbies, and although I might drive you nuts with the camera, this fall your new favorite activity is to go on photo walks with me – you suggest it every time we head out for a walk. I’ll gladly turn any walk into a photowalk for you!

You love princesses and BeyBlades, you’ll karate chop us as soon as dance, you’ll help bake cookies and build furniture, your favorite TV shows are Cat in the Hat and Sid the Science Kid, and you know damn well that, ‘girls can like blue and boys can like pink, because there’s no such think as girl colours and boy colours’. When I measured you today you were 106cm, and your occupational goal was ‘princess’.

You have your dad’s sense of humour and will spend hours chasing him around like a maniac, or playing hide and seek. You love being scared and playing practical jokes, and your dad loves teaching you those jokes. Just make sure to keep running them by me first before trying them out at school, okay?

If you could talk us in to it, I’m sure we’d still be eating our meals out on the back deck. You love nothing more than a ploughman’s lunch, much to your father’s chagrin. I am glad that perhaps the only way you take after me is in your taste – you love sushi, ploughman’s, pho – I FINALLY have someone to eat with!

And I love your quirks. When you play in your room at night, you need to line up your books, laying them out in an even grid. Your stuffies are very neatly organized in classroom rows. You say ‘fink’ instead of ‘think’ and ‘a-cause’ instead of ‘because’ and hell to anyone that tries to correct you. Your temper is fierce and you’re not afraid to tell me, ‘mommy, that’s not nice!’ when I try to rush you. You still have never had a haircut, and kick and scream and put up a fight whenever we try to comb out your knotted hair, tossing out the ‘not nice’ judgements freely there too.

Since halloween you’ve developed a serious candy addiction, trying to cram one in your mouth whenever you find them. I really wouldn’t have noticed this except I just discovered you’ve been slowly eating all the candy off the gingerbread train you just built with Auntie Cole. And on a related note, you’ve started chewing gum!

I hope the summer sadness is gone from your heart sweetie, I want it filled with nothing but the happiness and joy of being a four year old. Enjoy the hell out of this year, my little goof ball.

Love,
mom

ps- apparently I wasn’t too tired to get mushy after all.