S-P-E-L-L-I-N-G

Congratulations to Sameer Mishra from Indiana who successfully spelled "guerdon" to win this years 2008 Scripps National Spelling Bee. I'm always amazed every year at these kids who can spell words that I didn't even know existed!

Last year a local boy came in runner up! He was in grade 8 at my kids' school here in Edmonton, Alberta Canada! The school is an arts based school, Grade K-12 . We were soooo proud of Nate and his amazing accomplishment. Here was this average Grade 8 public school kid surrounded by homeschooled, spelling bee careerists ( spell THAT!) and he spelled his way to runner up! Gotta love those stories.

I sure wouldn't do very well in a spelling bee. I do read alot but have to admit I kinda skim over the long hard words usually mispronoucing them in my head only to embarrass myself later when I try to use it in a sentence. Never mind knowing it's root origin!

Just today I was talking to my husband and I said a big word.....wrong....and he politely corrected me. I hate that!

My son's a good speller. He has a weekly spelling test at school and NEVER studies the words. The night before he sits down, I recite the words and he spells them......correctly.....first time......even when I mispronounce them!

I just want you to know though......I DON'T use spell check......ok, maybe you already knew that.

Go back.....way back......

I was doing a little channel surfing while waiting for my oven to preheat and stopped on Oprah for a moment. I used to watch her quite alot and haven't in a while due to time, kids, and the fact that I would rather read, but today I ended up turning off the oven to watch the whole show.

She had Dr Brian Wiess on today. Brian Wiess MD is a graduate of Columbia University and Yale Medical School and is Chairman Emeritus of Psychiatry at Mount Sinai Medical Center in Miami. Dr. Weiss is a psychiatrist whose specialty is past life regression therapy. Yup, he hypnotises you and takes you back to past lives......past lives your "soul" has lived before.

It was facinating.

I've read alot lately about the metaphysical world and reincarnation and this is how I see it.

Our physical bodies are just "vessels" for our souls. Our souls basically "use" our bodies to learn or perhaps teach others a lesson (apparantly the wise old souls come back to do some teaching) Once this particular lesson or lessons are learned, our physical bodies die and the soul leaves the physical body it was in to reincarnate in another physical being.

His own words probably explain it better.....

"I think everybody reincarnates because we have many lessons to learn, lessons about love, compassion, charity, nonviolence, inner peace, patience, etc. It would be hard to learn them all in only one life. Also, some people come back voluntarily to help others. " Dr Brian Weiss

Well, we can only hope this is so. Little Jake's tragic death a year ago only means that his soul has moved on and we all will meet him again in some other life. His physical life and his death taught us all so much about love, life, compassion, patience etc. Jake must be a wise old soul.

Only my hairdresser knows for sure.....

I'm trying to decide
on a hair color. Here
are a couple of pictures of me with different hair colors.
OK, maybe the middle one could have been taken at a better angle, but you get the idea. Right now I'm kind of dirty blond. Ick, what a word.....dirty.....sounds so.....unclean.
I liked being a redhead....but it faded so fast and went from firey red to .......dirty ( there's that word again) red in no time.
I enjoyed being really dark too....felt all witchy ( see picture) and mysterious....I have to admit I felt more sophisticated being dark haired. As a blonde I would say I feel flirty and .......fun? And as a redhead I would have to admit I feel kinda .....hot yet .......funny ( think Lucille Ball and Carole Burnett with sex appeal?) So, with advances in technology and limitless funds ( hee hee there's that funny redhead in me) I could change my haircolor almost weekly.
What mood am I in this week?......feeling a need for fire"..o.k.pull out the box of red. Going to a dinner party and want to portray the mysterious, seductress let's bring out the witchy dark.
I just did the blonde ambition look about 3 weeks ago and already I'm up for a change. Maybe I need therapy.

Those were the days.....

Who would have thought that in the 30's people were so open minded? I mean really....you COULD get hit by a bus and all hopes of ever having a fag - gone. They had it right back then.....live life to the fullest. Have that fag and enjoy him before it's too late!

Also, as a nurse I am so impressed that in the 30's they even think to sanitize the tapeworms. The technology was really quite advanced then.....sanitize the tapeworms yet keep them alive so they "banish" that fat. Wow.

Playing Dress-up

I am so grateful that I get to play dress up every year with Edmonton Opera. As a grown up I don't often get the chance to "dress up". How often do you get to play fairy, wench, peasant or fair maiden? I get to do it several times a year!!!

• 
  

Sandwich please, hold the mayo!

I've heard the term "sandwich generation" ( young kids and aging parents, YOU in between!) and I do fit the bill logistically but until about 4 weeks ago I wasn't what you'd call "actively sandwiched"!
This morning it hit me......this morning I drove my kids to school after packing their lunches and checking on their homework, I arrived at the hospital where I fed my Dad his breakfast, shaved him and helped him have a shower, I stayed until my Mom arrived then I slipped down to the cafeteria to get my mom some lunch, after lunch I helped my dad get into bed for a nap, walked my mom to her car, got into mine to pick my kids up from school. I'm making an early dinner so I can drive my daughter to her music rehearsal, go to the hospital to help Dad with his supper, go to my opera rehearsal, slip out early to help Dad get settled for the night, come home, tuck my own kids in, grab a HUGE glass of wine and go to bed!
I don't want this to sound complaining at all. I'd do ANYTHING for my parents. They've done so much for me and my kids. I don't mind doing this.....I just hate that I have to.....I hate seeing my Dad dependant.....a man who did everything so well. I hate seeing my Mom trying so hard to be ok on her own.
My hubby's been great, doing some laundry, making some meals, helping with homework and tomorrow my sister's coming from Vancouver with an open ended return ticket....ALLELUIA!!
I guess one could look at the bright side........I'm needed, I'm useful, my nursing background has really come in handy ( it's amazing the stuff Dr's will tell you when you speak their lingo!), my kids are old enought that they help when they can and we have a health care system that does anything and everything it can to diagnose, help and treat with no thought to how much it will cost or whether or not the HMO will cover it.
My Dad has had a CT, MRI, Lumbar puncture, neuro consult, heamatology consult, oncology consult, great nursing care, top of the line meds, and NOTHING had to be approved by an HMO, and nothing will cost a dime.
If they need help at home, aids for daily living, new medications, that will be provided by our health care system. I just have to convince my parents to accept the help!!

Not so "The blessing"

This is an actual letter from an Austin woman sent to American company Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. It's PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best web mail-award-winning letter.

Dear Mr. Thatcher,
I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.
Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? Ever suffered from the curse'? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.' Isn't the human body amazing?
As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customers monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women. In fact, only last week, my friend Jennifer fought the violent urge to shove her boyfriend's testicles into a George Foreman Grill just because he told her he thought Grey's Anatomy was written by drunken chimps. Crazy!
The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.'
Are you f-----g kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak girl, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.
For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you just have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong', or are you just picking on us?
Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bull shit. And that's a promise I will keep. Always.
Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin, TX

Gentler Times

As my children are both nearing their teens and I have less control over their lives, I think more and more about the choices they will be making. Let's talk music for one.
I love and enjoy all types of music and encourage my kids to " try it before you say you don't like it". We all listen to and give a fair chance to classical, rock, folk, jazz, blues, opera, hip hop, pop etc etc. They both have ipods and I ( because I pay)download songs for them. They tell me the songs and I download them. Now, I download the clean versions of the songs and they have no problem with that. That in itself got me thinking.....
There's alot of "explicit" music out there. Pretty soon my kids will be buying their own music and listening to whatever they want. I was a little worried about that and it got me thinking to a more gentle time when I had total control over what my children heard. Here's some of it......

Rock- a - bye, baby, on the tree top,
When the wind blows the cradle will rock.
When the bough breaks the cradle will fall,
Down will come baby, cradle and all. (Sweet dreams!)

Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the kinds horses and all the kings men,
couldn't put Humpty together again. (Oh well. They tried)

Goosey, goosey gander,
Whither shall I wander?
Upstairs and downstairs,
And in my lady's chamber.
There I met an old man
Who wouldn't say his prayers.
I took him by the left leg
and threw him down the stairs. ( wouldn't you?)

Rub -a -dub- dub
Three men in a tub,
And how do you think they got there?
The butcher the baker, the candlestick maker,
They all jumped out of a rotten potato,
"Twas enough to make a man stare ( huh? It doesn't even rhyme!)

Sing a song of sixpence,
a pocket full of rye,
Four and twenty blackbirds
Baked in a pie ( yuk!)
When the pie was open'd
The birds began to sing ( ah! hot! hot!)
Was not that a dainty dish to set before the king?
The king was in the counting house
Counting out his money ( three for me, none for them, five for me, none for them)
The queen was in the parlour eating bread and honey.
The maid was in the garden,
Hanging out the clothes ( sigh)
When down flew a blackbird,
And pecked off her nose.

What are little girls made of?
What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice
And all things nice,
That's what little girls are made of.

What are little boys made of?
What are little boys made of?
Frogs and snails
And puppy-dogs' tails ( cut off tails?!!)
That's what little boys are made of.

So, I rethought the censorship thing. There's not much that I can think of that's more horrifying than the gentle nursery rhymes of yore!!!

Photographer

I was on my way home from work yesterday, sitting in traffic when I looked to my right and just above the car beside me I saw the upper torso of a photographer taking a picture.

He moved the camera this way and that, holding it sideways then turning the other way to view his "subject" from another angle.

His camera was one of those big cameras that you have to focus manually. It had a fairly large lens and looked kind of heavey. I was watching him and wondering what he was taking a picture of when the car beside me moved ahead "exposing" the whole photographer and his shopping cart full of all of his belongings.

He was a "cart pusher", "homeless", "street person" photographer!!! As my lane wasn't moving in the traffic I had time to rudely stare at my photographer making certain that indeed he wasn't pushing a cart full of expensive photography equipment. Fortunately he was so "focused" on his picture taking that he didn't notice my rude stares but those stares did ascertain that indeed he did have an assortment of empty pop bottles, shoes, garbage bags and tarps all neatly piled in his shopping cart.

Was he really taking a picture? Was there film in that camera? Why hadn't he pawned the expensive looking camera? Who knows?!! Who cares?!!

I was intrigued and let my imagination tell me that this man, standing on a busy street, in front of a fancy restaurant, being stared at by employed people in warm cars, saw something beautiful and wanted to capture it in his most valuable posession, his Minolta.