Chloe has been naughty!!

Today I received a phone call at work. It appears Miss Chloe was discovered on the 11th floor of the apartment building at the back of the playground behind us. How she got out under that fence is beyond me. I thought I had stuffed up all the holes. It is not the fault of her puppy sitter she is just one bad woman! See she won't even make eye contact with me. You can just see the purple heart tag she is wearing that has her name and telephone number. I am very fortunate that they did not call the "Dreaded Dog Catcher". The last time she was brought home in the paddy wagon it cost me $50.00. Now she has a record! Sigh, and I thought teenagers were bad. I am going to have to save up and get her spayed. I am sure that is the problem. She is no different than any other girl with a rush of hormones. The older she gets the more of a problem it becomes. No OHIP for this though. I have an excellent vet but $500+ ...shudder. well, I am just going to have to bite the bullet and make the appointment. In the meantime.......... Chloe has NO idea how lucky she is.......
It just so happens that my boss and his wife had "Button" a dear little Shih Tzu for a gazzilion years before she passed away and his family are Shih Tzu lovers AND when he heard what happened today he said, that's enough! and I should bring her to work with me. That was very kind of him but Chloe has no appreciable office skills.
This is my favourite baby picture of her. She looks just like an EWOK from Star Wars.
Once upon a time not so long ago Chloe and I were having a pretty hard time of it and we slept together to keep warm at night. She was my little hot water bottle, then in the morning she wouldn't come out from under the covers until I had the oven turned on to warm up the place. Thank God that is in the past. But we have shared a lot together and I can't bear the thought of loosing her.

What if ???

I actually managed to relax yesterday. My favourite spot... on the patio, ensconced on the chaise lounge , knitting in hand, glass of wine at the ready and a book on tape playing away.
It was one of Anne Perry's books. A Victorian mystery about a detective on the London Police Force named William Monk. As the story begins he is waking up in hospital after being hurt in a carriage accident. Crucial to the story is that he has lost all memory of his life, his job, even his name. He is determined that no one should know this weakness and while he struggles to find out who he is and of course he will solve the crime.
O.K. back to why I am telling you all that. I had a thought as I sat there. What if I woke up tomorrow and didn't know who I was? What an interesting concept. Monk has to go through his pockets and by looking at the bits and pieces there he tries to get a grip of who he is.
Here is my challenge. Pretend you have lost your memory. Now empty out your pockets or purse and look at what is there and see what it says to you.
My purse had 4 used tissues ( gross I know) .....3 tubes of lip gloss...2 hair combs.... a box of mints.....a checkbook and a calendar held together with a wide elastic...a pad of post-it-notes....a hair Barrett..hand lotion..3 pens ...a wallet filled with debit slips from the cash machine and a bunch of keys.
From this I deduce I must be an obsessively neat, dried out old prune with long hair, fresh breath and allergies who makes notes, likes to go shopping and has access to a car.
Hmmmm so much for that idea.

The Green Man

Here is my latest inspiration: I was going to show you what it looks like now but of course the batteries are dead in the digital camera. I will post a new picture of the "before" tonight after work. I have been collecting beads and decorative threads and I think I can finally say I am ready. I have been wanting to start him for months but it seems a fitting spring/summer project. This will be completely beaded by the time I am finished. FYI The image of the green man greatly outnumbers the image of Christ in most cathedrals in Britain. An interesting little bit of trivia I picked up whilst googeling. This particular green man has a more benevolent look to him than many I have seen. I just felt drawn to this image. I don't know where this one originated but my compliments to the artist.
I am going to be busy on Saturday but I am planning on some relaxation time on Sunday to get him started.

Who remembers "Dippty Do?"

I am talking before mouse, pump air spray, gel spray, 47 different kinds of conditioners, hand held hair dryers, curling irons, crimpers and hot rollers.
I am talking sleeping EVERY night with brush rollers in your hair and wrapped up in a chiffon scarf. Your hair needed to be long enough to cushion the bristles but short enough to make sure it would be dry by morning. For those special occasions you could sit sweating under plastic cap-hose attached portable hair dryers.
I went all through public school in a haze of scraped knees, my bike, hop scotch and wild and wolly hair. By the time I was in grade 7 I refused to have it cut and skinned it back into a pony tail. I had observed that the two brightest girls in the class always had Perfect hair. They got good grades were well liked and could hit a baseball. ah ha I said to myself that is the secret. Be well groomed and the world is your oyster!
Introducing the worlds most perfect page boy..ta dah...
The secret....Liberal applications of dippity do to the hair when it is wet. When you take the rollers out in the morning the hair retains the roller shape.
Brush it into position and spray with aerosol hairspray loaded with fluorocarbons.. Yes I helped to deplete the ozone layer. BUT I had great hair!

1965 the good old days!!!

I still couldn't hit a baseball, nothing is perfect.

Point-au-Baril Station 1959

At the turn of the century my great grandparents John and Margaret MacDiarmid bought a 9 acre island about 2 miles from Point-au-Baril Station, in Georgian Bay. Even then there was a huge pine tree that you could see for miles. My great grandfather named the island "Winnie Lone" He built a wooden cottage on the rocky land with about a six foot height stairs at the front. There was a screened in wrap around porch on 2 sides and with 10 children there would have been lots of cots. The main room had 2 small bedrooms to the left and the kitchen was an add on at the back. The main room had a "Quebec heater" a tall wood stove for those damp nights, a wind up Gramaphone and a large table in the center of the room where we ate, did jigsaws, painted "paint by numbers" and in the evening played cards! No electricity, no plumbing ( the houses of parliament were out back), no tv, a wood stove in the kitchen and an ice box. We would get a block of ice from the store at the "Station" and put it in a zink tub and then go like mad back to the island, on a little motor boat we rented, before it melted too much . Ernie would chip away at it till it could fit into the (what we now call the freezer) ice chamber. Then we had the left over ice chips in our "freshie". Yup that is me! ( The film was processed in Nov of 1959, hence the date. We were there in August.) As you can see it is night time and the kerosene lamps are lit. That ash tray to my left would have been "Ernie's" and that white bowl would have had peanuts in it....sigh. we were playing Canasta and although it would be perceived that I am "flipping the bird" so to say I was just sorting the cards. I was the 12 and get this I didn't even know what flipping the bird was.
Check out the handwriting. I used a fountain pen!..lolol I thought it was so classy to draw little circles to dot the "i". Nana ( the other half of Ernie), tell you more about her later, would bake the most wonderful peach pies in that huge wood stove/oven in the kitchen. She would open the oven door and determine by the heat coming out when it was time to pop the pies in and the add wood to keep the temperature just right. What a science. I love the Island and I can close my eyes and replay those wonderful times on the back of my eyelids. when I find more pictures I will tell you another memory.
Ernie and I used to go out fishing about 5am in the morning . I will have you know that is 2 bass and a pike that I caught. The rocks are all that is left of an original dock. By the way, I cleaned those fish too but Nana did the cooking!

Things you will never see on HWY 401

There are advantages to having a hefty woman!

Now this is what I call pampered beef!

Is this the same as wearing a red dress to a funeral??

They don't make the trunk on these things big enough anymore!

I love me, yes I do..kiss kiss!

A ton of feathers still weighs a ton!

Nothing like a cold beer when your out for a ride! Boggles the mind, does it not??

"My Ernie"

I guess I am being a little nostalgic today..No bike to ride.*Smile*

Whilst tidying up my mess I came across this envelope with old pictures. So I thought I would include them here periodically and tell a little story to go with them.

This is "mynernie"(pronounced "mine ernie" all one word) as I would say at this age. Yup that is me on my grandfathers lap I am almost 5 years old.

Ernest Harold Cottrell worked in the mailing room at the Toronto Star newspaper. He knew everyone from the truck drivers to Greg Clarke ( feature writer), "Jocko" Thomas(crime reporter) and Hugh Halliday, (nature editor) . Everyone at the "Star" knew him and called him Ernie or Ern.
He used to take me down to the Star and show me off when I could hardly walk. The people who worked there used to say to me , "Who is this old man you are with." and I would answer," He's mine ernie," and it stuck I called him Ernie all my life. Sheesh I look at this picture and think I am older now than he was when the picture was taken. wow.
He was with the Queen's Own Rifles at Vimy Ridge during WWI. When the Vimy Memorial was completed there was a national lottery of all the Canadian veterans who had been there and Ernie and Greg Clarke were2 of the group chosen to go to France on a luxury liner to be there for the dedication. I think it is wonderful that so many schools are participating in the memorial in France this year. He would be so proud.
He died suddenly when I was 17 I still miss him.
By the way I remember that dress it was a yellow and brown plaid. I have a quilt with some of the fabric in it. My mother made it. That is her hand on my shoulder.

Remember When

I looked out the window this morning and saw all that snow. How different it was when I was about 11 or 12 I think. Back in those days I would pack myself a lunch and be gone all day. No cel phone and my mother didn't think a thing about it. The only good thing about Good Friday, was that finally spring would be here and I could get my bike out of the garage. It was my "right of spring". The sun might shine, sometimes it would rain for a while but I would pile my sandwich and cookies and a jar of kool aid and my book into the basket of my bike, oh and a towel to sit on and ride across Fort Erie to where the Niagara River meets Lake Erie. Back in the 30's , I think, there was a huge dance hall with bathing pools, shops, and I think even a barber shop all in this huge complex. In the late 50's all that was left was a jumble of concrete walls with fades painted signs, example "Please do not disrobe children in the bathing area."..giggle... If I found the right spot I would be out of the wind and I could sit on a concrete pad, on my towel, in the sun and read and watch the birds swooping over the water and eat my sandwich. Some times I would even stretch out and have a nap. How innocent those times were. I never saw another soul and when I got bored it would be time to ride home. Once I remember it rained on the way home and I put my book under my clothes and draped the towel over my head while I rode. What a sight I must have been! If it rained too badly and I couldn't go I would sit by my bedroom window and still have my picnic lunch.I observed that little ritual even into my high school years.

Lets Be Friends

I found this lovely blog. Here is a sample of what you will see, these are my favourites:



Everyone needs a hug!








Kiss It and Make it Better!






Click on the link below:

letsbefriends.blogspot.com

Time heals all wounds...

.....or so "they" say. I always wondered who "they" were. Anyway life goes on ...and a lot more platitudes. sigh. I am just worn out. He didn't want a funeral, which in retrospect was kind of him I just didn't know he had changed his plans. Shock that. The paperwork is unbelievable. I have phoned, faxed, photocopied and emailed a mountain of information so far. No wonder they give you 10 copies of the death certificate. I tried out the word "widow"...nah that's my mother. Oh well, I am rambling. It's overcast and raining and there is not enough work to keep my mind occupied.
Yes, I am back at work, I came back yesterday; can't afford to stay home. One more day and the long weekend will be here. Good timing. I want to clean out my "den" and maybe go shopping for a new spring coat. I have been in a rut wearing the same one for 14 years. Ye Gods I sound like my mother! Hey it was a nice coat. lololol Yes, I do sound like my mother.
O.K. time to get back to my life. At my age I can't afford to keep killing off brain cells with all this stress.

I Want to Scream

My husband, Alex died Sunday evening around 5:30 pm. Do not even think about judging me. We have been separated but I always cared for him. He was just impossible to live with. He was totally obsessed with me. Now he's gone and I feel a tremendous loss. There was a time in my life when I thought I was so repulsive to any man, I had been deserted, not just me, but my 4 children as well, and of course it had to be my fault. This man came along who cared for me and in a moment of weakness I married him. I cared for him until I couldn't do it any longer and now he is dead. I alternate between wanting to scream and God forgive me incredible relief that is is over. The next couple of days is going to be incredibly hard. There will be those who will be quick to judge and condem me. They didn't live my life. They have no idea. My father used to say "NEVER judge a man until you have walked a mile in his shoes!" Alex is in the arms of his mother now, content at last. I will take his ashes to our favourite place and spread them there.

Spring is Sprung

The grass is riz.......I saw a robin.......Now if I saw this picture it would be perfect!