Happy Holidays to all of my blog buddies. Hope you get all that your heart desires. Biddie
Thursday, December 24, 2009
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Censored
RelentlessUncaringDerangedIndividual.That is who is trying to censor me.
I did say trying, right?
I will not be censored, by you, or anyone else. I will say this again, and I will try to use itsy bitsy teeny tiny words so that you understand. Canada, is a FREE country. We all have something called freedom of expression. That means, in a nutshell, that we can can express our views without the threat of persecution.
My opinion is that an individual that would take the time to print out a copy of all of my previous blog posts, a person that has that much time invested into a relationship that no long exisits
just may have more mental health issues than Sybil.
Again, this is strictly MY opinion.
It does strike me as odd that a person that insists that he is SO over me calls the police, Children's Aid, the girls school, my MIL, and anyone else that he can simpy to stay involved in my life. He says that he hates me, yet he reads my blog like the bible and just can't seem to leave me alone.
He is either hung up on me, or completely deranged.
When a person calls the authorities because a comment was left on his blog (non threatening, btw) and he is embarrassed, it is laughable. Sad, too, if you think about it.
If I were married to a man (or woman) that spent this much time persuing his/his ex, I would be GONE. Sloppy seconds are NOT my style.
I would also like to remind people that when you are estranged from your child(ren) making their loved ones unhappy and causing problems for the other parent rarely ever helps to bridge the gap.
Anyway, my life is pretty good. Not much money, scary doctors appointment coming up, and the job prospects aren't so great, either.
I do however, have a cute lil house, awesome friends, and all of my children are cared for and accounted for. Oh, and a Hubby that may not be perfect, but he is hung on ME, not some ghost from his past.
I really couldn't hope for more.
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
A Mother Remembered
My Mum is in town. Not Mission Mary, but Bio Betty, and her husband, Stan. I have known Stan since I was about 15 months old. I really can't remember a time without him in my life. Sort of . Most of my memories of either Betty or Stan are somewhat disjointed and fragmented. I can't really be certain about that day in pool was the same day that we went The African Lion Safari. When you are a wee kid and you miss your Mum, the days, hours and minutes seem endless. When you are apart the days feel like a run on sentence when you are missing her. Funny how our minds work when we are small. Mine still works differently then most, I think. I am convinced of it actually.
At any rate, my Mum is in town. I have not seen her in about 2 1/2 years, right around my 39 th birthday - or was it my 38th? Betty was in town for the funeral of her sister, my beloved Aunt Kaddy. We had numerous family get togethers - the funeral itself, the bbq's and reunions..I did try to speak with her once, but it just seemed to upset her more, so I refrained from any interaction with her - even when we sitting at a table for 5, with well, three other people.
Awkward.
I do love my Mum. She is a force of nature. Truly. Her temper is well known in the family, but what may not be equally as renowned is her compassion for her loved ones. Betty and Stan spend six solid weeks at the bedside of my Aunt Ferfie. Stan changed the bed sheets (and take my word for it when I say that my step father can change bed sheets faster, and better than any nurse of PSW out there). I also know that my Mum brews the best cuppa tea that you will ever drink. She can sew just about anything that she sets her mind too, using only the pattern in her minds eye. My girls have been the proud owners of many Halloween costumes made exclusively by Nannie. We still have fancy barbie doll quilts that were made by hand for a three year old KC. That three yr old is now almost 22 and can not bare to part with it.
I know just how she feels. I recently found a letter written to me by my Mum, in 1983. I was just 14 then, and I missed her tremendously.
It reads, in part:
Thanks for sending the geography test. You did really well. I'm so proud of you. Keep it up, dear. Also, keep sending your school work, I love to see it.
There it was, in black and blue, the words that I had longed to hear from her my whole life had been neatly tucked away in a hat box on my shelf..
but wait, there was more:
Thank God you are coming down in the summer. I miss you so much and you are so far away. I'm so lucky to have a daughter, especially one like you. We will spend so much time together. It will be just great. Now we both have something nice to look forward to.
and finally, the closing:
Well, Biddy girl, I must go now. Take care of yourself. Write soon. Don't forget, I love you.
Bye sweetheart,
Mum and Stan
26 years after than letter was written, we barely speak. My heart aches for her, and yet, she makes me so angry at times that I want to strangle her. The older that I get, the more I understand that so much of this is just growing pains. KC and I can fight like Tyson and Holyfield, but we have never missed a holiday, a birthday, Mothers Day...Kayla and I are more like cage fighters, and yet we still manage to laugh it off, even if does take a day or so.
I can't imagine my life without girls, all three of them. They drive me insane, make me laugh until I pee (I have been told that I am not alone in this, but I would never mention my Auntie by name). Sometimes I want to hide away from the world - and them, but the reality of it is - they are my world.
I wonder when Betty woke up and decided that she was moving on without me, and I wonder sometimes, if there is compass waiting to lead me to her.
My dear Uncle is gravely ill and on life support. Of course, Betty is here to help my Auntie, and I am sure that she will. I am equally as certain that she will ignore me as she always has.
This time, however, I will cling to the faded paper and the faded memories.
She may not recall the good times, but I do, and that may have to be enough.
Biddie Girl
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Monday, November 16, 2009
The best way to cheer yourself up is to try to cheer somebody else up.
- Mark Twain-
Keeping those words of wisdom in mind, I am (with the help of new found friends) adopting a family for Christmas. I`m not certain yet how I will do this..Shawn is still off of work, and we are struggling to pay our own bills and Christmas? I have no idea how I will pull that off for my family. My kids are older now though, and as long as we have a nice meal, I think that our Holiday will be complete. Not only that but my brother Steve is threatening to come see us early in the New Year.
Shawn had an appointment with a specialist on November 15 th - or so we thought. I should have checked the calendar earlier, because the 15 th was a Sunday.
Why were we confused? Maybe because the receptionist at the doctors office and Shawn`s doctor both told us that was the date. When we called last week to double check, we informed that the actual appointment was on the 2nd and we missed it.
Shawn had been waiting since April and this was more than just a disappointment. Initially, we were told that it would take another year to get in with the other doc. Thankfully, we will get in earlier, Feb 1 st. That still seems like a long way off but at least it isn`t a year away.
Instead of being pissed off, I am trying to focus on the positive - February is waay closer than November.
Life is alright otherwise. We are slowly getting settled, and I mean slowly. We still have boxes all over the main floor, and the shredded paper that we used for packing is multiplying. Seriously. It is everywhere. The dogs have it stuck to their paws and the cats seem to always have it hanging from their mouths. Lol.
The Christmas Village is still packed up. I am stumped about where to build it this year. I can`t even figure out where to put our tree. I have half a mind to put some of it Kayla and Jessica`s bathroom. Somehow, I doubt that they would approve.
Oh, I am thinking of doing some serious baking for the holidays too. I`ll let you
you know how that goes. Thank goodness we have the fire hall on speed dial.
- Mark Twain-
Keeping those words of wisdom in mind, I am (with the help of new found friends) adopting a family for Christmas. I`m not certain yet how I will do this..Shawn is still off of work, and we are struggling to pay our own bills and Christmas? I have no idea how I will pull that off for my family. My kids are older now though, and as long as we have a nice meal, I think that our Holiday will be complete. Not only that but my brother Steve is threatening to come see us early in the New Year.
Shawn had an appointment with a specialist on November 15 th - or so we thought. I should have checked the calendar earlier, because the 15 th was a Sunday.
Why were we confused? Maybe because the receptionist at the doctors office and Shawn`s doctor both told us that was the date. When we called last week to double check, we informed that the actual appointment was on the 2nd and we missed it.
Shawn had been waiting since April and this was more than just a disappointment. Initially, we were told that it would take another year to get in with the other doc. Thankfully, we will get in earlier, Feb 1 st. That still seems like a long way off but at least it isn`t a year away.
Instead of being pissed off, I am trying to focus on the positive - February is waay closer than November.
Life is alright otherwise. We are slowly getting settled, and I mean slowly. We still have boxes all over the main floor, and the shredded paper that we used for packing is multiplying. Seriously. It is everywhere. The dogs have it stuck to their paws and the cats seem to always have it hanging from their mouths. Lol.
The Christmas Village is still packed up. I am stumped about where to build it this year. I can`t even figure out where to put our tree. I have half a mind to put some of it Kayla and Jessica`s bathroom. Somehow, I doubt that they would approve.
Oh, I am thinking of doing some serious baking for the holidays too. I`ll let you
you know how that goes. Thank goodness we have the fire hall on speed dial.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Lest We Forget
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead.
We are the dead.
Short days ago We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow ,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lieIn Flanders fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
John Mc Crea
Saturday, November 07, 2009
Just Another Boring Day
Things I found during the move -
stocking stuffers from last Christmas that were apparently very well hidden
a way cool box of 'stuff ' that once belonged to my Dad
letters that Jessica wrote to Shawn and I when she went away to camp in Kentucky
a (preumably) human bone, that we promptly turned over to the authorities to be forensically tested.
I wonder if this is reason behind the many strange going - ons at the Duke Street house?
stocking stuffers from last Christmas that were apparently very well hidden
a way cool box of 'stuff ' that once belonged to my Dad
letters that Jessica wrote to Shawn and I when she went away to camp in Kentucky
a (preumably) human bone, that we promptly turned over to the authorities to be forensically tested.
I wonder if this is reason behind the many strange going - ons at the Duke Street house?
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Is It Real?
Since Halloween is nearly here I thought that I would post some of my favourite ghost photos (from the web). I can't say for certain if these photos are real, but you all know where I stand on the subject. I firmly believe in them. I have had numerous experiences through the years and living in this house has been an adventure in the paranormal. I can't honestly say that I am always comfortable here when I am alone, thanks in part to my own active imagination and to what I refer to as our 'Little Girl Ghost.'
She has been responsible for many, many strange occurrences....I can't even count the number of things that have gone missing, only to turn up somewhere odd. Like, for instance, the can opener turning up in the bathroom or something that you just put down disappearing almost in front of your eyes.
About a month ago, something happened that scared the life outta me. I wanted to blog about it, but I was (am) afraid that talking about these kinds of things, writing about, dwelling upon it can only make it worse.
I was getting the laundry off of the landing leading down to the basement. There is a small cupboard hanging on the wall above the landing, and a small shelf just below that. There are skates, and shoes, skipping ropes and bubble wands on the shelf and in the closet, and on the shelf. Nothing else. Tools, extension cords, building supplies are all kept in the basement.
Imagine my shock when I was hit across the head by a heavy piece of wood with rusty nails stuck in it. It hit me so hard that I was woozy. I actually thought for a split second that I was being mugged (on my laundry pile. Oh, the humiliation) or attacked by some intruder. When the fog cleared and I could focus my eyes again, all I found was this piece of lumber.
It didn't fall from the shelf. It was never on the shelf, or in the cupboard. Nobody could even tell me where the chunk of wood came from. It hit me flat across the head, too, and I narrowly avoided a mangled nail cutting me open. Instead, I got a nasty sliver on the back on my skull that gave me an equally nasty infection. Trust me, it was bad.
The very first month or so that we moved in weird things were happening. Cold spots. Whispers (I heard some last night). My dryer, which is nearly brand new and is in perfect working condition, has been known to turn off/on by itself.
The dogs absolutely will NOT go into the basement. Ever. They stand at the top of the stairs and cry while I do the laundry. Shawn actually got locked in the back room when there is no possible way to lock the door from the inside. It only locks on the outside, with one of those old fashioned slidey things.
The new house feels safe. I don't get that sick to my stomach feeling when I walk in, the way that I do here some days.
I will miss this little house. It holds a lot of wonderful memories for me - for all of us. KC has moved out, and the new house will probably never feel like home to her. Her bedroom is here, the late night Buffy-a-thons were here, Pork Chop is buried here, in this yard.
Hopefully, our Girly Ghost will stay here, too. We won't miss her.
She has been responsible for many, many strange occurrences....I can't even count the number of things that have gone missing, only to turn up somewhere odd. Like, for instance, the can opener turning up in the bathroom or something that you just put down disappearing almost in front of your eyes.
About a month ago, something happened that scared the life outta me. I wanted to blog about it, but I was (am) afraid that talking about these kinds of things, writing about, dwelling upon it can only make it worse.
I was getting the laundry off of the landing leading down to the basement. There is a small cupboard hanging on the wall above the landing, and a small shelf just below that. There are skates, and shoes, skipping ropes and bubble wands on the shelf and in the closet, and on the shelf. Nothing else. Tools, extension cords, building supplies are all kept in the basement.
Imagine my shock when I was hit across the head by a heavy piece of wood with rusty nails stuck in it. It hit me so hard that I was woozy. I actually thought for a split second that I was being mugged (on my laundry pile. Oh, the humiliation) or attacked by some intruder. When the fog cleared and I could focus my eyes again, all I found was this piece of lumber.
It didn't fall from the shelf. It was never on the shelf, or in the cupboard. Nobody could even tell me where the chunk of wood came from. It hit me flat across the head, too, and I narrowly avoided a mangled nail cutting me open. Instead, I got a nasty sliver on the back on my skull that gave me an equally nasty infection. Trust me, it was bad.
The very first month or so that we moved in weird things were happening. Cold spots. Whispers (I heard some last night). My dryer, which is nearly brand new and is in perfect working condition, has been known to turn off/on by itself.
The dogs absolutely will NOT go into the basement. Ever. They stand at the top of the stairs and cry while I do the laundry. Shawn actually got locked in the back room when there is no possible way to lock the door from the inside. It only locks on the outside, with one of those old fashioned slidey things.
The new house feels safe. I don't get that sick to my stomach feeling when I walk in, the way that I do here some days.
I will miss this little house. It holds a lot of wonderful memories for me - for all of us. KC has moved out, and the new house will probably never feel like home to her. Her bedroom is here, the late night Buffy-a-thons were here, Pork Chop is buried here, in this yard.
Hopefully, our Girly Ghost will stay here, too. We won't miss her.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Laugh For The Day
Testicle Therapy -
Two women were playing golf. One teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole. The ball hit one of the men. He immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in agony.
The woman rushed down to the man, and immediately began to apologize. 'Please allow me to help. I'm a Physical Therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you'd allow me, she told him. 'Oh, no, I'll be all right. I'll be fine in a few minutes,' the man replied. He was in obvious agony, lying in the fetal position, still clasping his hands there at his groin. At her persistence, however, he finally allowed her to help. She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side, loosened his pants and put her hands inside. She administered tender and artful massage for several long moments and asked, 'How does that feel'?
Feels great, he replied; but I still think my thumb's broken!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We are still packing and purging, and as much as I hate the packing part, the purging feels good. I have given away every single thing that I haven't needed, from bags and bags of clothing, to furniture, to the fridge that we will no longer need.
The new place is coming along nicely. The kitchen cupboards are waiting to be painted, but the house is ready otherwise. Kayla has been playing happy homemaker and setting it up the way that she likes. I don't mind at all, that kid should be an interior decorator. Seriously.
I guess that I best get my butt in gear. I have so much left to do not much energy to do it.
Sigh..
Two women were playing golf. One teed off and watched in horror as her ball headed directly toward a foursome of men playing the next hole. The ball hit one of the men. He immediately clasped his hands together at his groin, fell to the ground and proceeded to roll around in agony.
The woman rushed down to the man, and immediately began to apologize. 'Please allow me to help. I'm a Physical Therapist and I know I could relieve your pain if you'd allow me, she told him. 'Oh, no, I'll be all right. I'll be fine in a few minutes,' the man replied. He was in obvious agony, lying in the fetal position, still clasping his hands there at his groin. At her persistence, however, he finally allowed her to help. She gently took his hands away and laid them to the side, loosened his pants and put her hands inside. She administered tender and artful massage for several long moments and asked, 'How does that feel'?
Feels great, he replied; but I still think my thumb's broken!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
We are still packing and purging, and as much as I hate the packing part, the purging feels good. I have given away every single thing that I haven't needed, from bags and bags of clothing, to furniture, to the fridge that we will no longer need.
The new place is coming along nicely. The kitchen cupboards are waiting to be painted, but the house is ready otherwise. Kayla has been playing happy homemaker and setting it up the way that she likes. I don't mind at all, that kid should be an interior decorator. Seriously.
I guess that I best get my butt in gear. I have so much left to do not much energy to do it.
Sigh..
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Stuff
So much to do, but it is windy and wet outside, so I am stalling. I am still in my nightie, thinking of things that need to be done instead of actually doing them.
Shawn and I decided to redo the kitchen cupboards at the new place. They are a hideous, sticky, greasy, 80's throw back mess. I have a feeling that I may have taken on a project that is bigger than it looks. There must be 25 years of ick on those cupboard doors. They need to be sandblasted or something before I can even think of painting. Yuck.
Kayla has been painting her butt off. The girls' tv room is now a light pink instead of an almost white. The owner had painted, but he painted over wallpaper and you could still see the border going around the room, under the watery white. Jessica is less than thrilled about pink, but it was a mistint, and half price. That makes pink my favourite colour of the moment.
Shawn and I spent half of the day yesterday waiting for the cable/phone guy to come by yesterday, only to find out at about noon that the appointment had been cancelled. We were only sitting in the new place for four hours. Actually, I spent most of that time hanging out on the only piece of furniture that we have there - an air mattress. Shawn did home improvements while we waited - like fixing the door casings, which were so off kilter that none of the doors closed properly.
Tomorrow will be an even busier day. Kayla is having her graduation ceremony! I have no idea why the high school holds the grad in October. It makes is infinitely more difficult for the grads that are attending college to come back. They always hold them on Thursdays, too.
Kayla doesn't want to dress up. She will be wearing a cap and gown, so she sees no need to put on anything fancy underneath, were nobody will ever see it. Lol. She is my girl, after all. I would like to buy her some new shoes, though. Converse, of course. No heels for my baby.
It seems like only yesterday that we were celebrating KC's graduation. I can still barely believe that she almost done her third year of college. (Well, she finished advertising and then went back for dental assisting). She is now doing her externship with our family dentist.
I am keeping my fingers crossed that Heidi and Jethro can make it...They are out of town packing up their own house, getting ready for a move of their own.
Grandma Lynn had knee surgery, and she is kicking ass with her recovery, but is still not quite ready for a night out. Kayla is so upset that Gramma can't make it..I can't even tell you how sad she is.
In more Kayla news, she asked me last night if I would be upset about Geoff being a part of her life again. Umm, no, not really, but I just know that he will not be able to make this commitment to her. It has been almost 10 years since our separation and subsequent divorce, and he has made zero effort to see his kids. I have not blocked him in any way, this has been his choice.
I know that Kayla is 18 now, but she wears her heart on her sleeve, and I will be heartbroken for her if this does not work out. I seriously doubt that it can. Geoff has a wife that makes life hell for everyone around her. There is not person in the family that likes her. In fact, most of the family refuses to even allow her into their homes. I hate that things have turned out this way.
I wanted things to be so different when we parted ways. I wanted the girls to have Geoff in their lives, but it just didn't work out that way.
Anyway, I don't know if I will ever be prepared to share celebrations with Geoff, but I have no problem with Kayla going out for coffee with him. I just hope and pray that it works out this time.
So, that's life in a nutshell. Jessica is doing well, she is tall and rosy cheeked, looking like a million bucks. We are knee deep in boxes and trying to purge the garbage that we don't need out of our lives. Easier said then done, in all reality.
Kayla will soon be an official high school graduate, we will be in a new home, with a fresh start, and hopefully life will get back to what passes as normal in our house.
Shawn and I decided to redo the kitchen cupboards at the new place. They are a hideous, sticky, greasy, 80's throw back mess. I have a feeling that I may have taken on a project that is bigger than it looks. There must be 25 years of ick on those cupboard doors. They need to be sandblasted or something before I can even think of painting. Yuck.
Kayla has been painting her butt off. The girls' tv room is now a light pink instead of an almost white. The owner had painted, but he painted over wallpaper and you could still see the border going around the room, under the watery white. Jessica is less than thrilled about pink, but it was a mistint, and half price. That makes pink my favourite colour of the moment.
Shawn and I spent half of the day yesterday waiting for the cable/phone guy to come by yesterday, only to find out at about noon that the appointment had been cancelled. We were only sitting in the new place for four hours. Actually, I spent most of that time hanging out on the only piece of furniture that we have there - an air mattress. Shawn did home improvements while we waited - like fixing the door casings, which were so off kilter that none of the doors closed properly.
Tomorrow will be an even busier day. Kayla is having her graduation ceremony! I have no idea why the high school holds the grad in October. It makes is infinitely more difficult for the grads that are attending college to come back. They always hold them on Thursdays, too.
Kayla doesn't want to dress up. She will be wearing a cap and gown, so she sees no need to put on anything fancy underneath, were nobody will ever see it. Lol. She is my girl, after all. I would like to buy her some new shoes, though. Converse, of course. No heels for my baby.
It seems like only yesterday that we were celebrating KC's graduation. I can still barely believe that she almost done her third year of college. (Well, she finished advertising and then went back for dental assisting). She is now doing her externship with our family dentist.
I am keeping my fingers crossed that Heidi and Jethro can make it...They are out of town packing up their own house, getting ready for a move of their own.
Grandma Lynn had knee surgery, and she is kicking ass with her recovery, but is still not quite ready for a night out. Kayla is so upset that Gramma can't make it..I can't even tell you how sad she is.
In more Kayla news, she asked me last night if I would be upset about Geoff being a part of her life again. Umm, no, not really, but I just know that he will not be able to make this commitment to her. It has been almost 10 years since our separation and subsequent divorce, and he has made zero effort to see his kids. I have not blocked him in any way, this has been his choice.
I know that Kayla is 18 now, but she wears her heart on her sleeve, and I will be heartbroken for her if this does not work out. I seriously doubt that it can. Geoff has a wife that makes life hell for everyone around her. There is not person in the family that likes her. In fact, most of the family refuses to even allow her into their homes. I hate that things have turned out this way.
I wanted things to be so different when we parted ways. I wanted the girls to have Geoff in their lives, but it just didn't work out that way.
Anyway, I don't know if I will ever be prepared to share celebrations with Geoff, but I have no problem with Kayla going out for coffee with him. I just hope and pray that it works out this time.
So, that's life in a nutshell. Jessica is doing well, she is tall and rosy cheeked, looking like a million bucks. We are knee deep in boxes and trying to purge the garbage that we don't need out of our lives. Easier said then done, in all reality.
Kayla will soon be an official high school graduate, we will be in a new home, with a fresh start, and hopefully life will get back to what passes as normal in our house.
Thursday, October 01, 2009
Communication Breakdown
I hate moving. No, I mean, I really detest it. Big time.
We have to be out of here by the 31st of this month. It is sneaking up on me and as usual, I am ill prepared.
We do have another place to call home. It is 3 bedrooms, with a den, and an en suite set up for our main floor master bedroom. The rent is more expensive, of course, but that is what you get when you rent a place with central air and a built in dishwasher. I'm not complaining about the rent, mind you. We looked at some really interesting houses before we found this one.
There was the house for $1400 a month. It was an old Victorian-type place with a large living room, rotting floorboards and no driveway. Not just a missing driveway, but no place to even stop your car to unload groceries. It was on a hill so steep that climbing the cement stairs would have been like climbing a ladder in an old musty barn. (Trust me, I know about these things).
There was another house on the same road, that was advertised as a 4 bedroom with a large yard. What the ad failed to mention was that the owner(s) wanted to keep the living room for their own use. A home office in what would have been MY home.
Oh, but that's not a problem, is it???
There was another place that was cute as a button. Sweet fenced in yard, huge shed (fort) and the bikers that lived next door? Oh not Lance Armstrong kinda bikers, but patch wearing, beer swilling, dirt bag kinda bikers. The garbage spilled out of the house and into the yard next door - our potential space. The home owner also wanted to use the shed (fort) and basement to store HIS stuff, so umm...where would mine go?
There was the 50's style bungalow on a quiet street with parking for 4 vehicles. Oh,and don't mind the guy in the basement.
Sigh..
You can see what I was up against when Kayla found the cute lil war time home on kijiji. I called one second after the listing posted. (No kidding, I really did) and made an appointment for the next day. I liked the hard wood floors and the fact that my wee lil nephew Ryder and my kinda sorta niece Claire would have room to play and run in the back yard. I loved the brand new bathrooms (BOTH of em!) and the fact that the fridge was huge and much newer than my own. The landlord seemed to be very professional, congenial, and easy to deal with. He even agreed to let us break our last months rent deposit up into three payments so that we could afford this move.
We signed the lease and we given the keys on the 19th of September...So, like a spazz, I actually moved a few things in. Just some basics - a couple of gallons of paint, rollers, paint trays, some bed linens (ready for the 1 st night without searching), food for Jessica, (always have to be prepared when you have a diabetic in the house), some new towels, etc.
Imagine my surprise when Kayla and I stopped by the house a few days ago to find all of stuff gone. Oh, wait, they left the brand new shower curtain behind. I guess that it wasn't the right style for someone...
Yup, it was all gone, the paint, my bedding, all of it. When Shawn called the landlord (after a frantic call from me) he was told that the land lord thought that it was all...garbage.
Huh?
Brand spanking new towels, paint, candles, everything except my bedding, still in the package was garbage?
So, of course, thinking that it was garbage, the food was eaten, the paint supplies were used, the candles went missing, and my king sized bed sheet was used as a drop cloth.
A drop cloth!
It has taken two days and several phone calls to get our things back. My bed sheet is still paint stained, the paint supplies are used, and the candles are open....oh, but I did get a brand new package of juice boxes, two bags of crackers and some potted Mums for the garden.
I am still seething.
This was nothing more than a blatant invasion of privacy, and, as far as I am concerned, a case of theft. We have already signed the lease and given the owner our money.
We are BROKE. I have $30 to my name and I have no way of paying for another house in the next 4 ish weeks. It would take weeks, at the very least, to get our money back in court ( I am reasonably certain that we would win in court..Sounds like theft is a lease breaker to me) but that does little to help us in the here and now.
I hope that this was some kind of fluke. I do. I want to get into this new home and make it my own. I just need my privacy and a sense of security. My mental health depends upon it.
I really, truly, hope that this was just a case of miscommunication and not a sign of things to come.
We have to be out of here by the 31st of this month. It is sneaking up on me and as usual, I am ill prepared.
We do have another place to call home. It is 3 bedrooms, with a den, and an en suite set up for our main floor master bedroom. The rent is more expensive, of course, but that is what you get when you rent a place with central air and a built in dishwasher. I'm not complaining about the rent, mind you. We looked at some really interesting houses before we found this one.
There was the house for $1400 a month. It was an old Victorian-type place with a large living room, rotting floorboards and no driveway. Not just a missing driveway, but no place to even stop your car to unload groceries. It was on a hill so steep that climbing the cement stairs would have been like climbing a ladder in an old musty barn. (Trust me, I know about these things).
There was another house on the same road, that was advertised as a 4 bedroom with a large yard. What the ad failed to mention was that the owner(s) wanted to keep the living room for their own use. A home office in what would have been MY home.
Oh, but that's not a problem, is it???
There was another place that was cute as a button. Sweet fenced in yard, huge shed (fort) and the bikers that lived next door? Oh not Lance Armstrong kinda bikers, but patch wearing, beer swilling, dirt bag kinda bikers. The garbage spilled out of the house and into the yard next door - our potential space. The home owner also wanted to use the shed (fort) and basement to store HIS stuff, so umm...where would mine go?
There was the 50's style bungalow on a quiet street with parking for 4 vehicles. Oh,and don't mind the guy in the basement.
Sigh..
You can see what I was up against when Kayla found the cute lil war time home on kijiji. I called one second after the listing posted. (No kidding, I really did) and made an appointment for the next day. I liked the hard wood floors and the fact that my wee lil nephew Ryder and my kinda sorta niece Claire would have room to play and run in the back yard. I loved the brand new bathrooms (BOTH of em!) and the fact that the fridge was huge and much newer than my own. The landlord seemed to be very professional, congenial, and easy to deal with. He even agreed to let us break our last months rent deposit up into three payments so that we could afford this move.
We signed the lease and we given the keys on the 19th of September...So, like a spazz, I actually moved a few things in. Just some basics - a couple of gallons of paint, rollers, paint trays, some bed linens (ready for the 1 st night without searching), food for Jessica, (always have to be prepared when you have a diabetic in the house), some new towels, etc.
Imagine my surprise when Kayla and I stopped by the house a few days ago to find all of stuff gone. Oh, wait, they left the brand new shower curtain behind. I guess that it wasn't the right style for someone...
Yup, it was all gone, the paint, my bedding, all of it. When Shawn called the landlord (after a frantic call from me) he was told that the land lord thought that it was all...garbage.
Huh?
Brand spanking new towels, paint, candles, everything except my bedding, still in the package was garbage?
So, of course, thinking that it was garbage, the food was eaten, the paint supplies were used, the candles went missing, and my king sized bed sheet was used as a drop cloth.
A drop cloth!
It has taken two days and several phone calls to get our things back. My bed sheet is still paint stained, the paint supplies are used, and the candles are open....oh, but I did get a brand new package of juice boxes, two bags of crackers and some potted Mums for the garden.
I am still seething.
This was nothing more than a blatant invasion of privacy, and, as far as I am concerned, a case of theft. We have already signed the lease and given the owner our money.
We are BROKE. I have $30 to my name and I have no way of paying for another house in the next 4 ish weeks. It would take weeks, at the very least, to get our money back in court ( I am reasonably certain that we would win in court..Sounds like theft is a lease breaker to me) but that does little to help us in the here and now.
I hope that this was some kind of fluke. I do. I want to get into this new home and make it my own. I just need my privacy and a sense of security. My mental health depends upon it.
I really, truly, hope that this was just a case of miscommunication and not a sign of things to come.
Friday, September 18, 2009
Craigslist - The Truth About Daisy
I found this ad whilst perusing the ads on Craigslist. It is a real ad..Poor Daisy. I wonder where she is now.
The Truth about Daisy - ItalGreyhound/Chihuahua Mix 4 a Good Home.
Date: 2009-07-02, 8:37PM PDT
Okay, so I have tried to get rid of my dog like six times on craigslist over the past few weeks. I tried telling this story of woe about this adorable little dog and how I love her so much and how she was a rescue and all that. I explained that now with a 2 year old daughter it is just too much to have two dogs and how my family and I need to simplify cuase we live in a condo and life is hard -- so sad. All of this is pretty much true and I tried to make the language in my past postings as well without spilling the beans about what the real story is with this dog because if most people knew, there is no way they would take this little freak. Like I said, everything described above is for the most part true except for the part about me loving her so much; I don't. I hate her. And while many who meet her find her very adorable, the truth is, this dog is seriously problematic. So after having tried to post something nice about this dog in my attempt to rid myself of her, I am now going to just be brutally honest and hope that there is some freak out there who will find it an appealing prospect to own and care for a poo eating, garbage toppling, pill popping (literally a whole bottle of prescription pain killers), disrespectful, not trained at all, constantly under-foot, marginally violent, always surly, rarely happy, eating and begging machine. Below I have compiled a list which is only but a sampling of the things Daisy does regularly that makes her truly the worst dog I have ever owned. I would go into detail, but she is not worth the time. Daisy is the worst dog in part because she::
1. Eats poo -- baby (as in diaper -- see below), chicken, human, cat, dog, etc.
2. Drags poo -- as in she brings it inside, such as the diapers that used to end up shredded to pieces on our bed
3. Eats garbage -- Any trash can and its contents left in her reach will be toppled and destroyed 4. Opens the refrigerator -- I have to have a Velcro strap on it to keep her out otherwise she will open the door less than 30 seconds after I leave and eat everything in it
5. Is mean -- Simply put, she has no use for people, unless of course they have food
6. Will not die -- run over by a truck, $2,500 and 8 weeks of intensive recovery, run over by a Buick and rolled 7 times right in front of me then got up and ran to my car and hopped in the seat happy as a clam and no injuries
7. Rolls in dead animals -- Seals are her favorite it seems, but dead rotten earthworms are a close second place for her
8. Constantly, constantly, constantly begs -- I cannot write the word constantly enough to adequately make the point
9. Growls, threatens to attack and at times does -- Mainly tied to her small size and constant fear of being squashed, thankfully her teeth are dull as posts and her bite, which is rare, is harmless
10. Not at all obedient -- Will not sit, stay, or come (unless food is involved, but that is hopefully clear by now)
11. Picks fights she cannot finish -- This then puts our other dog at risk cause he goes out to protect her when she has cornered a cat, skunk (yes twice) or whatever else she comes across 12. Has serious gastrointestinal issues -- Primarily related to her constant begging and eating of garbage, scraps and poo
13. Injures self often -- In addition to the major issues mentioned above requiring surgery and extended medical care ($6-9K so far) she also has a bad leg which is just an ongoing thing that does not need to be addressed the vet says. I thought it fitting to stop at 13 given how unlucky I have been to have this dog in my life. These are just a few of the key flaws I could come up with off the top of my head. There are many more which I could list, but I am hungry and I need to cook my steak now. It is a steak that she will have no part of, I promise you this. So there it is. The truth about Daisy. I hate her guts. She has put me through hell in the past couple days especially and I am now at the point to where if I cannot find her a good home by Monday, I am taking her sorry fat ass to the pound and leaving her with a sizable donation to cover the pain and suffering that they will have to endure by accepting her. While I do very much hate this dog, I do love animals and don't want her to suffer. My daughter who is only 2 also loves her very much and I could not look her in the eye if I did not do a good job of finding this rotten wretch a home that I knew was going to at least care for her and make her comfortable. This is why the pound is my last option. You however, can be Daisy's hero. Save her from the life which I know I am in many ways at fault for creating. I know it is a life where she is not happy and my family and I certainly are not happier because of her. I know I should not have adopted her from that nice animal rescue in Filmore all those years ago. I should have put her in obedience school; should have, could have, would have, oh the regrets! boo hoo. Be that hero, in the words of Michael Jackson: Make that change. I dare you. If you can't take her, help me find some poor sap that will. Email me and I will get back to you. Pics are below. She is about 13 pounds and 9 years old. Walks okay on a leash -- at least she's got that going for her.
Location: Santa Barbara
The Truth about Daisy - ItalGreyhound/Chihuahua Mix 4 a Good Home.
Date: 2009-07-02, 8:37PM PDT
Okay, so I have tried to get rid of my dog like six times on craigslist over the past few weeks. I tried telling this story of woe about this adorable little dog and how I love her so much and how she was a rescue and all that. I explained that now with a 2 year old daughter it is just too much to have two dogs and how my family and I need to simplify cuase we live in a condo and life is hard -- so sad. All of this is pretty much true and I tried to make the language in my past postings as well without spilling the beans about what the real story is with this dog because if most people knew, there is no way they would take this little freak. Like I said, everything described above is for the most part true except for the part about me loving her so much; I don't. I hate her. And while many who meet her find her very adorable, the truth is, this dog is seriously problematic. So after having tried to post something nice about this dog in my attempt to rid myself of her, I am now going to just be brutally honest and hope that there is some freak out there who will find it an appealing prospect to own and care for a poo eating, garbage toppling, pill popping (literally a whole bottle of prescription pain killers), disrespectful, not trained at all, constantly under-foot, marginally violent, always surly, rarely happy, eating and begging machine. Below I have compiled a list which is only but a sampling of the things Daisy does regularly that makes her truly the worst dog I have ever owned. I would go into detail, but she is not worth the time. Daisy is the worst dog in part because she::
1. Eats poo -- baby (as in diaper -- see below), chicken, human, cat, dog, etc.
2. Drags poo -- as in she brings it inside, such as the diapers that used to end up shredded to pieces on our bed
3. Eats garbage -- Any trash can and its contents left in her reach will be toppled and destroyed 4. Opens the refrigerator -- I have to have a Velcro strap on it to keep her out otherwise she will open the door less than 30 seconds after I leave and eat everything in it
5. Is mean -- Simply put, she has no use for people, unless of course they have food
6. Will not die -- run over by a truck, $2,500 and 8 weeks of intensive recovery, run over by a Buick and rolled 7 times right in front of me then got up and ran to my car and hopped in the seat happy as a clam and no injuries
7. Rolls in dead animals -- Seals are her favorite it seems, but dead rotten earthworms are a close second place for her
8. Constantly, constantly, constantly begs -- I cannot write the word constantly enough to adequately make the point
9. Growls, threatens to attack and at times does -- Mainly tied to her small size and constant fear of being squashed, thankfully her teeth are dull as posts and her bite, which is rare, is harmless
10. Not at all obedient -- Will not sit, stay, or come (unless food is involved, but that is hopefully clear by now)
11. Picks fights she cannot finish -- This then puts our other dog at risk cause he goes out to protect her when she has cornered a cat, skunk (yes twice) or whatever else she comes across 12. Has serious gastrointestinal issues -- Primarily related to her constant begging and eating of garbage, scraps and poo
13. Injures self often -- In addition to the major issues mentioned above requiring surgery and extended medical care ($6-9K so far) she also has a bad leg which is just an ongoing thing that does not need to be addressed the vet says. I thought it fitting to stop at 13 given how unlucky I have been to have this dog in my life. These are just a few of the key flaws I could come up with off the top of my head. There are many more which I could list, but I am hungry and I need to cook my steak now. It is a steak that she will have no part of, I promise you this. So there it is. The truth about Daisy. I hate her guts. She has put me through hell in the past couple days especially and I am now at the point to where if I cannot find her a good home by Monday, I am taking her sorry fat ass to the pound and leaving her with a sizable donation to cover the pain and suffering that they will have to endure by accepting her. While I do very much hate this dog, I do love animals and don't want her to suffer. My daughter who is only 2 also loves her very much and I could not look her in the eye if I did not do a good job of finding this rotten wretch a home that I knew was going to at least care for her and make her comfortable. This is why the pound is my last option. You however, can be Daisy's hero. Save her from the life which I know I am in many ways at fault for creating. I know it is a life where she is not happy and my family and I certainly are not happier because of her. I know I should not have adopted her from that nice animal rescue in Filmore all those years ago. I should have put her in obedience school; should have, could have, would have, oh the regrets! boo hoo. Be that hero, in the words of Michael Jackson: Make that change. I dare you. If you can't take her, help me find some poor sap that will. Email me and I will get back to you. Pics are below. She is about 13 pounds and 9 years old. Walks okay on a leash -- at least she's got that going for her.
Location: Santa Barbara
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Saturday, August 29, 2009
We are heartbroken. Tom Savini cancelled and Bruce Campbell was unreachable. There were tickets that you had to buy, to even get in line to get an autograph. It was $50. I expected it to be pricey, but good grief, I didn't think that I would have to take out a bank loan for the frigging thing. Obviously, since I didn't win the Bruce Campbell lottery, all I got were photos, I never got to meet him :(
All of the actors let you come right up and say hello, they will even chat with you. Nope, not Bruce. We did get to hang with Emma Caufield for a bit. She even let us take her photo - for free!
Check out Spock. How good does he look? Seriously.
I am bummed out about Bruce, but we still had a great time. I just can't help but wonder who will be there next year??
Friday, August 28, 2009
OMG
Tomorrow is the fan expo in Toronto. KC, Spencer, Kayla, Jessica and I heading to The Big City to meet some of our fav celebs including Bruce Campbell, and Buffy The Vampire Slayer alumnus Emma Caufield.
I have a feeling that my darling daughter KC will not be able to keep her composure. I'll let you all know. I will leave you with photos of last years Sci Fi Con until I get back.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
He's Back.
There is so much that I want to blog about - to share with my friends, but I am, once again, on the defensive because my stalker has returned.
I don't know what is so incredibly fascinating about me.
My life is actually pretty boring, same old same old. I suppose that my stalker has no life of his own. Maybe his life is so boring that he needs to create drama.
Dunno.
I just know that even my kids are edge and for their sakes, as well as my own, I can't share some things right now.
I might need to make my blog private - an idea that I have been tossing around for some time now. I have resisted thus far because I have buddies that are blogless, but stop by now and again anyway.
All I know is that if aRsehole Stalker wants info, he'll have to look elsewhere.
Or find a new hobby.
I don't know what is so incredibly fascinating about me.
My life is actually pretty boring, same old same old. I suppose that my stalker has no life of his own. Maybe his life is so boring that he needs to create drama.
Dunno.
I just know that even my kids are edge and for their sakes, as well as my own, I can't share some things right now.
I might need to make my blog private - an idea that I have been tossing around for some time now. I have resisted thus far because I have buddies that are blogless, but stop by now and again anyway.
All I know is that if aRsehole Stalker wants info, he'll have to look elsewhere.
Or find a new hobby.
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