Well thanks to the natives at the Tyendinaga reserve in Belleville, my train for tomorrow was cancelled, and not only do I not have the ability to call home that often (hotels shamelessly johnny-hole you with their long distance fees), my cellphone is almost dead as I don't have a charger for it.
So, tonight I spent some time on Messenger with my kids. I was horrified when my youngest logged on and I saw his tagline. It read "50 cent ruls at raping". After I recovered from the shock I realized what he was trying to say, and I quickly IM'd him to tell him to change it...pronto.
So as it stands now I have exchanged my train ticket with a seat on Saturday's train, and was lucky enough to get the room for an extra night if I need it. Tomorrow I'll call head office and see if they would be able to get me a flight out of here tomorrow afternoon sometime so I can get up to Keswick to pick up Tyssie for our weekend together.
And as far as the natives are concerned, they are putting me out and causing an inconvenience, but I figure we kind of came in and took over their land a couple of centuries ago, so it's hard finding justification to complain!
Jun 28, 2007
Jun 27, 2007
Kitties of Parliament Hill
While in Ottawa this week on business I ventured up to the top of the city to my favourite place: Parliament Hill.
I'm not sure what I find so fascinating about this site. Is it the image of Pierre Trudeau, one of my personal heroes, sprinting up the steps of Parliament in his brown sandals on his way to work in the morning? Or the whispers of many, many notable politicians and other historic figures that echo through the grounds to this day, and are immortalized in bronze around the perimeter of the property?
Perhaps.
But I think my favourite reason for visiting this awesome spectacle in our nation's capital is the Cat Sanctuary.
For a number of years selfless volunteers have been looking after a clan of kitties that found recluse in a shady enclave at the west side of the property after they were retired from their official mousing duties.
They have had them all spayed/neutered and inoculated against common kitty parasites, and keep them well-fed and watered. They constructed what looks like a cat townhouse complex complete with straw-lined floors for them to cozy up in during the winter and bouts of inclement weather.
There is a coin box at the gate to the sanctuary for anyone who wants to make a donation. It costs the volunteers approximately $6000 per year out of their own pockets to maintain it. To view the official 'Cats of Parliament Hill' blog, go here.
If you are not in the Ottawa area and would like to make a donation, you can mail a personal cheque to the attention of Rene Chartrand, Apt. 1207, 160 Charlotte St., Ottawa, K1N 8Z5.
The kitties say 'Thanks'!
I'm not sure what I find so fascinating about this site. Is it the image of Pierre Trudeau, one of my personal heroes, sprinting up the steps of Parliament in his brown sandals on his way to work in the morning? Or the whispers of many, many notable politicians and other historic figures that echo through the grounds to this day, and are immortalized in bronze around the perimeter of the property?
Perhaps.
But I think my favourite reason for visiting this awesome spectacle in our nation's capital is the Cat Sanctuary.
For a number of years selfless volunteers have been looking after a clan of kitties that found recluse in a shady enclave at the west side of the property after they were retired from their official mousing duties.
They have had them all spayed/neutered and inoculated against common kitty parasites, and keep them well-fed and watered. They constructed what looks like a cat townhouse complex complete with straw-lined floors for them to cozy up in during the winter and bouts of inclement weather.
There is a coin box at the gate to the sanctuary for anyone who wants to make a donation. It costs the volunteers approximately $6000 per year out of their own pockets to maintain it. To view the official 'Cats of Parliament Hill' blog, go here.
If you are not in the Ottawa area and would like to make a donation, you can mail a personal cheque to the attention of Rene Chartrand, Apt. 1207, 160 Charlotte St., Ottawa, K1N 8Z5.
The kitties say 'Thanks'!
Jun 23, 2007
My boys are brilliant!
Check out my kids during their stage debut today at the Music in the Streets festival in Keswick, Ontario...
I swear I have the most talented children in existence.
On a sadder note, today is my Dad's birthday - the second one we haven't been able to celebrate with him since he passed away almost two years ago. I bought a lovely little pot of bright, yellow Gerbera daisies and brought them to the cemetery. They really perked up his spot.
Happy Birthday Dad! We wish we could be with you today, and always.
I swear I have the most talented children in existence.
On a sadder note, today is my Dad's birthday - the second one we haven't been able to celebrate with him since he passed away almost two years ago. I bought a lovely little pot of bright, yellow Gerbera daisies and brought them to the cemetery. They really perked up his spot.
Happy Birthday Dad! We wish we could be with you today, and always.
Jun 22, 2007
Freaked out!
It's a curse.
For as long as I can remember I have been surrounded by freaks. At work...at school...standing next to me in the grocery store...at the dentist's office...and even in cyberspace.
It's as if they seek me out because they know how absolutely crazy they drive me. I don't know what it is, but I can't seem to swing a dead cat and not hit either an enormously pregnant teenager with a smoke in one hand and her one-year-old in a stroller in the other, or a bandanna-wearing, Trailer Park Boy who has no respect for authority and thinks the world owes him something, or that ridiculous driver who absolutely MUST get in front of you, no matter how fast you're going, just to slow down to a snail's pace.
Or maybe it's not as bad as it seems at all, and the Universe is just telling me that I need to stop expecting so much from my fellow man and lower the bar a little. This would turn out to be especially funny (exasperating?) when I started this job and was suddenly expected to conduct interviews with people who had never been acquainted with a bar of soap, let alone a curriculum vitae. The bar is now six-feet-under...as is my pride.
At my previous job my manager took me aside once and told me to stop coming down so hard on people all the time, and that really made me think. I can't help it: I have such high expectations of myself, and I subconsciously cascade that onto others around me.
The Dalai Lama says that the secret to true happiness is 'tolerance'. Followers of the Hindu religion believe in Karma: that we all have our own personal crosses to bear and lessons to learn in each lifetime, and that it is only once we achieve enlightenment that we are able to end the series of reincarnations and finally pass over to Nirvana.
So it would seem that my 'cross' is the expectant young tramp with no regard for her unborn child's life, the cretin with the goatee, tats and mentality of entitlement that could very well be the baby daddy, and the inconsiderate and shockingly dangerous driver that I have no choice but to share the road with every day all rolled into one.
Yikes...I think I need a vacation...
For as long as I can remember I have been surrounded by freaks. At work...at school...standing next to me in the grocery store...at the dentist's office...and even in cyberspace.
It's as if they seek me out because they know how absolutely crazy they drive me. I don't know what it is, but I can't seem to swing a dead cat and not hit either an enormously pregnant teenager with a smoke in one hand and her one-year-old in a stroller in the other, or a bandanna-wearing, Trailer Park Boy who has no respect for authority and thinks the world owes him something, or that ridiculous driver who absolutely MUST get in front of you, no matter how fast you're going, just to slow down to a snail's pace.
Or maybe it's not as bad as it seems at all, and the Universe is just telling me that I need to stop expecting so much from my fellow man and lower the bar a little. This would turn out to be especially funny (exasperating?) when I started this job and was suddenly expected to conduct interviews with people who had never been acquainted with a bar of soap, let alone a curriculum vitae. The bar is now six-feet-under...as is my pride.
At my previous job my manager took me aside once and told me to stop coming down so hard on people all the time, and that really made me think. I can't help it: I have such high expectations of myself, and I subconsciously cascade that onto others around me.
The Dalai Lama says that the secret to true happiness is 'tolerance'. Followers of the Hindu religion believe in Karma: that we all have our own personal crosses to bear and lessons to learn in each lifetime, and that it is only once we achieve enlightenment that we are able to end the series of reincarnations and finally pass over to Nirvana.
So it would seem that my 'cross' is the expectant young tramp with no regard for her unborn child's life, the cretin with the goatee, tats and mentality of entitlement that could very well be the baby daddy, and the inconsiderate and shockingly dangerous driver that I have no choice but to share the road with every day all rolled into one.
Yikes...I think I need a vacation...
I am a tight ass
Have you ever had your butt rubbed??? I have...and it's delightful. I highly recommend it.
Recently I have started seeing a chiropractor again after my sacrum started bothering me. I have been having a hard time sitting for long periods since I fell on my butt a few months back. Figuring that the company benefit plan covers $500 of chiropractic services per year, and I'm paying $50 per month just to have the stupid plan I might as well use it.
Today I went for a chiropractic session, and had a half-hour massage beforehand to loosen me up. The chiropractor told me to have the masseur work on my sacrum area and glutes. Nicole normally works on my back, so this was going to be different. She started with my right cheek, and it was pretty tender. For the first time since I can remember I felt sharp pain during the massage. Then she switched to my left cheek, and as I braced myself for more discomfort, she commented on how much worse my left side was.
It would seem I am a lopsided tight ass.
I asked Nicole if she does a lot of butt rubs. She giggled and said "Yeah."
So after my rub I went down the hall for my adjustment, and as I lay down on my tummy the doctor put a weeny bit of pressure on my lower back, and....CRACK! She praised my masseur for a job well done. I had my adjustment and she sent me home to soak in a tub with epsom salts and to then ice my back to finish up the treatment.
I have decided I don't want to be a tight ass anymore, and I'll be going back for another bum massage with Nicole as soon as I get back from Ottawa.
Recently I have started seeing a chiropractor again after my sacrum started bothering me. I have been having a hard time sitting for long periods since I fell on my butt a few months back. Figuring that the company benefit plan covers $500 of chiropractic services per year, and I'm paying $50 per month just to have the stupid plan I might as well use it.
Today I went for a chiropractic session, and had a half-hour massage beforehand to loosen me up. The chiropractor told me to have the masseur work on my sacrum area and glutes. Nicole normally works on my back, so this was going to be different. She started with my right cheek, and it was pretty tender. For the first time since I can remember I felt sharp pain during the massage. Then she switched to my left cheek, and as I braced myself for more discomfort, she commented on how much worse my left side was.
It would seem I am a lopsided tight ass.
I asked Nicole if she does a lot of butt rubs. She giggled and said "Yeah."
So after my rub I went down the hall for my adjustment, and as I lay down on my tummy the doctor put a weeny bit of pressure on my lower back, and....CRACK! She praised my masseur for a job well done. I had my adjustment and she sent me home to soak in a tub with epsom salts and to then ice my back to finish up the treatment.
I have decided I don't want to be a tight ass anymore, and I'll be going back for another bum massage with Nicole as soon as I get back from Ottawa.
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