Well it has been awhile since I blogged. I feel kind of out of touch now.
And rusty.
I have not written anything other than a grocery list and various lesson plans since my last post. Not very exciting stuff.
Part of the reason was a serious case of writers block. I just had very little to say. And when I did have something to write about I was too busy to get here and do it. I had to take a bit of a break from social media for awhile- no blogging, very little email, hardly ever at Delphi, and sadly I did not follow any blogs either. The only thing I did do on a semi regular basis was hop on Facebook. Facebook is a quick and dirty medium, the blog needs more time.
I missed this and I missed reading my favorite blogs. I am going to try to start posting on a regular basis now- maybe once or twice a week to start. Anyway, it is good to see you.
We will talk again soon.
Monday, September 20, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Bad music, great video
Man I find most of today's current "artists" annoying. The twat who sings Tik Tok has got to be one of the more aggravating ones making money right now. However, I can tolerate her music when someone creates something new out of it. In this case, a Star Trek music video for the song. Hey, the song is a joke, I say the video works as one too.
Monday, June 14, 2010
Visits from home
My Mom and Dad are here visiting for a few days and it has been so good to have them here. My mom usually comes at least once a year; my Dad is a little more sporadic because it is harder for him to get time away from work. Having them both here at the same time is a treat. But there is a problem, Don and I don’t have any time to take off to spend with them, and this means my mom has a lot of downtime at the house- unsupervised. Dad is doing what normal people do while on vacation- he is reading, watching movies, going for walks and exploring the area. My mom- not so much.
On Thursday I came home to find the front hall painted. On Friday she plastered and painted the basement staircase and attempted to adjust my son’s curtains, only the lack of materials prevented her from completing the task. On Saturday, my sister came in from Kingston and we kept mom busy with a trip to the mall and a few other stores. This did not keep my mom out of trouble though- while we were buying mom a latte at Second Cup (they don’t have that back in GFW) she was in Bonnie Togs completing my son’s summer wardrobe- she bought one of everything in that store I swear. While we were at Bed Bath and Beyond, helping my sister pick out drapes, mom managed to sneak in an extra set of curtains for Serena’s place. On Sunday I came home with a new Duvet cover and a pair of shorts I didn’t know I needed. I am very grateful, however, I am a little worried about what to expect when I get home today.
If shopping were an Olympic sport my mom would win gold. She can sniff out a deal, find flaws in material, knows what is a good buy and what is not, and what time of year is the best to get deals on things like paint and furniture.
My son is being spoiled rotten. It is not just the new clothes, or the toys she and dad brought down for Wil, it is the sheer amount of love an attention they lavish upon him. He loves every minute- I am sure he will miss his entourage when they go on Thursday.
I know I will.
On Thursday I came home to find the front hall painted. On Friday she plastered and painted the basement staircase and attempted to adjust my son’s curtains, only the lack of materials prevented her from completing the task. On Saturday, my sister came in from Kingston and we kept mom busy with a trip to the mall and a few other stores. This did not keep my mom out of trouble though- while we were buying mom a latte at Second Cup (they don’t have that back in GFW) she was in Bonnie Togs completing my son’s summer wardrobe- she bought one of everything in that store I swear. While we were at Bed Bath and Beyond, helping my sister pick out drapes, mom managed to sneak in an extra set of curtains for Serena’s place. On Sunday I came home with a new Duvet cover and a pair of shorts I didn’t know I needed. I am very grateful, however, I am a little worried about what to expect when I get home today.
If shopping were an Olympic sport my mom would win gold. She can sniff out a deal, find flaws in material, knows what is a good buy and what is not, and what time of year is the best to get deals on things like paint and furniture.
My son is being spoiled rotten. It is not just the new clothes, or the toys she and dad brought down for Wil, it is the sheer amount of love an attention they lavish upon him. He loves every minute- I am sure he will miss his entourage when they go on Thursday.
I know I will.
Friday, June 4, 2010
Kiss it bye-bye
Imagine having the winning ticket to a multimillion dollar lottery- and voiding it. That is what happened to a customer at the Corner Store, in the Goulds (St. John's, NL).
The customer ordered 12 bucks in tickets, but the clerk printed up 27 bucks worth, the customer was either unwilling, or unable to pay for the 27 dollar ticket and thus the clerk had to void it.
It turns out that voided ticket was worth 30 million big ones.
Can you imagine? What kind of luck it that?
The customer ordered 12 bucks in tickets, but the clerk printed up 27 bucks worth, the customer was either unwilling, or unable to pay for the 27 dollar ticket and thus the clerk had to void it.
It turns out that voided ticket was worth 30 million big ones.
Can you imagine? What kind of luck it that?
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
FNH
I had the last of my tests done a couple of weeks ago, and finally, I have an answer about my liver. The lesions are a result of Focal nodular hyperplasia (FNH) which is the second most common tumor of the liver. The main things I need to to be concerned with for this diagnosis is the possibility of one of the nodules blocking my hepatic vein, or rupturing. Both of these possible outcomes are rare.
So no big C diagnosis, yayyy me!
Thank you to everyone who stopped by here with your thoughtful comments and emails. It was very comforting to me to have so many people in my corner.
So no big C diagnosis, yayyy me!
Thank you to everyone who stopped by here with your thoughtful comments and emails. It was very comforting to me to have so many people in my corner.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Newfoundland Screech Comedy Festival
If you are going to be in St. John's on June 5th-13th you might want to check out the Newfoundland Screech Comedy Festival. It looks like a good line-up. I would love to watch Louis C.K., that guy can make me laugh so hard my jaws ache. It would also be a treat to catch Shaun Majumder and Derrick Edwards. I have no idea what Mike Bullard is doing on the bill, as I thought this was a comedy festival- maybe he is an usher?
Thursday, May 27, 2010
The Old Hag
Have you ever had a nightmare where you were aware you were dreaming but unable to wake yourself up, unable to move, and in some cases unable to breath? It is a phenomenon that has been documented around the world; in Newfoundland we call it ‘The Hag”, scientists call it Sleep Paralysis.
The experience varies from person to person. Some people see a woman’s face in the distance but they cannot pick out her features. However the dreamer senses something is very wrong and becomes anxious. As the figure draws near they realize it is an ugly old crone. When the Old Hag finally reaches the terrified dreamer she slowly crawls up over the person’s body and straddles their chest; slowly crushing the chest cavity in, cutting off their breath. All the while the dreamer is hyper aware of what is going on: the fact that they are sleeping, that this is not really happening, and yet they can smell the Old Hag, they feel her leathery touch as she stretches over them and breathing becomes a struggle.
Sound like fun? Yeah right.
I have had this happen to me a few times, while I have only ever seen the Hag herself once, my experience with sleep paralysis is a little different. I usually do see a figure, but the figure is just out of my sight, watching me. Sometimes the figure moves closer but I miss the actual movement I only catch the change in position. That is when the panic starts. My breathing turns to desperate gasps for air. I struggle to move, to get away, to wake myself up- but I can't even move my baby toe. I try to call out for help, but I cannot make a sound. Eventually I wake up with a start, gasping for air, with sweat cold on my skin. Every time I have one of these dreams something awful happens in my life soon after. I know it is just coincidence, or my subconscious mind picking up on cues my conscious mind doesn’t want to see- but it is still unnerving.
Last night I had the dream for the first time in a long time and this morning it is all I can think about. I was hoping I could just write the experience of my system but so far it isn’t really helping. I still have that anxious feeling, like I am waiting for something.
How many of you have had a visit from the Old Hag? They say it can run in families, if you experience sleep paralysis, it is likely you have a relative who suffers these lucid nightmares as well. If you are not from Newfoundland, what do you call this type of dream?
The experience varies from person to person. Some people see a woman’s face in the distance but they cannot pick out her features. However the dreamer senses something is very wrong and becomes anxious. As the figure draws near they realize it is an ugly old crone. When the Old Hag finally reaches the terrified dreamer she slowly crawls up over the person’s body and straddles their chest; slowly crushing the chest cavity in, cutting off their breath. All the while the dreamer is hyper aware of what is going on: the fact that they are sleeping, that this is not really happening, and yet they can smell the Old Hag, they feel her leathery touch as she stretches over them and breathing becomes a struggle.
Sound like fun? Yeah right.
I have had this happen to me a few times, while I have only ever seen the Hag herself once, my experience with sleep paralysis is a little different. I usually do see a figure, but the figure is just out of my sight, watching me. Sometimes the figure moves closer but I miss the actual movement I only catch the change in position. That is when the panic starts. My breathing turns to desperate gasps for air. I struggle to move, to get away, to wake myself up- but I can't even move my baby toe. I try to call out for help, but I cannot make a sound. Eventually I wake up with a start, gasping for air, with sweat cold on my skin. Every time I have one of these dreams something awful happens in my life soon after. I know it is just coincidence, or my subconscious mind picking up on cues my conscious mind doesn’t want to see- but it is still unnerving.
Last night I had the dream for the first time in a long time and this morning it is all I can think about. I was hoping I could just write the experience of my system but so far it isn’t really helping. I still have that anxious feeling, like I am waiting for something.
How many of you have had a visit from the Old Hag? They say it can run in families, if you experience sleep paralysis, it is likely you have a relative who suffers these lucid nightmares as well. If you are not from Newfoundland, what do you call this type of dream?
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Monday, May 10, 2010
Galactic Empire State of Mind
I may be a huge science fiction geek but that doesn't mean I can't laugh at the stuff too. Check out this parody: Galactic Empire State of Mind which reworks Alicia Keys hit Empire State of Mind with the original Star Wars Trilogy. This is just too well done not to share. If you like this video there are a lot more at the College Humour website, check it out.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
What a mother knows
It was story time at my house just a few short moments ago. Don just finished negotiating his way through the bedtime ritual where Wilson tries to finagle "Just one more book", and then "A drink of water please daddy?", and "Where is my Gaugi?" When all his demands were met it was my turn- it is my job to tuck him in and close the light. I also ask for the last goodnight kiss. Tonight the response was a nonchalant "Sure". Then he thrust his arms up in the air and raised his chubby little cheek to my lips.
In that moment, with his tiny little hands around my neck, I am reminded of him as a baby. It was a sweet moment, but it gave way to sadness, and a little fear. This is all going too fast. My baby is gone- he has grown into this soft spoken funny little boy who is trying to master the alphabet and Velcro shoes.
I just seems like months ago that I was desperately trying master being a mom to an infant. My first challenge was to breastfeed him. I had it drilled into to me by the Breastfeeding Nazis that this was best for baby and that everyone can breast feed- it is a matter if you care enough too. Besides, they stressed, breastfeeding is natural!
Yes, it might be, but some mothers in the wild eat their young. That is natural too.
To any of you ladies out there in cyberspace who are gestating right now, or perhaps your bun is just fresh out of the oven, listen to me: Breastfeeding is a learned behavior; it takes time and it can be painful. Do what is best for you and baby, sometimes the bottle is best for you both. I was foolish, I hung in there for nine months of breastfeeding- but man I suffered. He was feeding every 45 minutes, he had a horrible latch, and he would not take a bottle of expressed milk. I remember one afternoon, after a particularly long night, holding Wil in my arms and dreading feeding him. I was just too sore: cracked and bleeding sore. I looked down at this cute little bundle crying and thinking to myself: I don't know how much longer I can do this kid.
My sweet little babe just looked up at me and smacked his lips.
I lost part of my right nipple at one point. Not pretty.
As difficult and painful those late night feedings were I do miss that part of his life. I loved the feel of his little body tucked in close to mine. While he fed, whether it was the breast or later the bottle, he would rub my arm softly and would stare up at me until he passed out in a milk coma. For a little while longer I would hold him, rocking him slightly and trying to coax out any burps that might be bubbling within. I remember the soft whisper of his breath on my neck, the scent of his bath oil, and his tiny little hands on my chest.
More than once- as I stared into the blue of his eyes, I wondered to myself if he knew: if he could ever know, just how much he was loved?
And here I am, with Mother's Day approaching, as I tuck my young son into bed, suddenly wondering if there was a time when I was a baby, that my Mother held me in her arms and asked herself: "Does she know, could she ever know just how much she is loved?"
Yes mom. I do.
Thank you.
In that moment, with his tiny little hands around my neck, I am reminded of him as a baby. It was a sweet moment, but it gave way to sadness, and a little fear. This is all going too fast. My baby is gone- he has grown into this soft spoken funny little boy who is trying to master the alphabet and Velcro shoes.
I just seems like months ago that I was desperately trying master being a mom to an infant. My first challenge was to breastfeed him. I had it drilled into to me by the Breastfeeding Nazis that this was best for baby and that everyone can breast feed- it is a matter if you care enough too. Besides, they stressed, breastfeeding is natural!
Yes, it might be, but some mothers in the wild eat their young. That is natural too.
To any of you ladies out there in cyberspace who are gestating right now, or perhaps your bun is just fresh out of the oven, listen to me: Breastfeeding is a learned behavior; it takes time and it can be painful. Do what is best for you and baby, sometimes the bottle is best for you both. I was foolish, I hung in there for nine months of breastfeeding- but man I suffered. He was feeding every 45 minutes, he had a horrible latch, and he would not take a bottle of expressed milk. I remember one afternoon, after a particularly long night, holding Wil in my arms and dreading feeding him. I was just too sore: cracked and bleeding sore. I looked down at this cute little bundle crying and thinking to myself: I don't know how much longer I can do this kid.
My sweet little babe just looked up at me and smacked his lips.
I lost part of my right nipple at one point. Not pretty.
As difficult and painful those late night feedings were I do miss that part of his life. I loved the feel of his little body tucked in close to mine. While he fed, whether it was the breast or later the bottle, he would rub my arm softly and would stare up at me until he passed out in a milk coma. For a little while longer I would hold him, rocking him slightly and trying to coax out any burps that might be bubbling within. I remember the soft whisper of his breath on my neck, the scent of his bath oil, and his tiny little hands on my chest.
More than once- as I stared into the blue of his eyes, I wondered to myself if he knew: if he could ever know, just how much he was loved?
And here I am, with Mother's Day approaching, as I tuck my young son into bed, suddenly wondering if there was a time when I was a baby, that my Mother held me in her arms and asked herself: "Does she know, could she ever know just how much she is loved?"
Yes mom. I do.
Thank you.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Mary Walsh for Rideau Hall!
A lot of names have been bandied about for the PM's choice as the next governor general, including Captain Kirk (this is where inter-species diplomacy pays its dividends) Leonard Cohen (Hallelujah!), Mike Myers (the Goldmember of Parliament) and the man in motion himself: Rick Hansen. Today, I read about a new nominee, Newfoundlander Mary Walsh.
Yes, Marg Delahunty: warrior princess for governor general.
I could get behind that.
But somehow I don't think Stevie will go for it- he is afraid of strong women. Especially women who carry a bigger sword than he does.
photo take from http://bgalrstate.blogspot.com/2009/11/sarah-palin-wants-to-dismantle-canadian.html
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Doing what you can
Gosh I miss home. When I get homesick, I tend to read more news from home, a technique that doesn’t really ease the homesick feeling, but it does make me feel temporarily connected to the Rock.
One of the online links that keeps me in touch is the Grandfalls-Windsor Advertiser even though their online presence a little sparse. This week they had a great article on the front page about a really wonderful initiative by Barb Fifield. She is making dresses out of pillowcases to send to an orphanage in Haiti.
She started out alone- making dresses in various sizes using pillowcases she bought from the dollar store- and was soon joined by her sister Eileen Rumbolt in Port aux Choix. Ms. Rumbold enlisted the help of her quilting group who have been added to the running total of the little dresses. Each dress has a pair of underwear and a buckle loving tucked in the pocket.
What I love about this story is how it clearly demonstrates the power of the individual to affect change. What started out as one woman’s desire to help the children of Haiti inspired a much wider range of people to pitch in.
Gilbert and Yvette Saunders have a daughter working in a Haitian orphanage and they will be bringing the newly sewn dresses to Haiti when they visit. Friends, family, churches and local businesses are all chipping in by making dresses or donating supplies.
All because one woman wanted to do what she could to help.
There are a couple of different patterns online if you are a crafty person and think this is something you could do to help. I have provided a few links below:
A dress from Dad's shirt
Craftzine pattern
Pillow case dress
One of the online links that keeps me in touch is the Grandfalls-Windsor Advertiser even though their online presence a little sparse. This week they had a great article on the front page about a really wonderful initiative by Barb Fifield. She is making dresses out of pillowcases to send to an orphanage in Haiti.
She started out alone- making dresses in various sizes using pillowcases she bought from the dollar store- and was soon joined by her sister Eileen Rumbolt in Port aux Choix. Ms. Rumbold enlisted the help of her quilting group who have been added to the running total of the little dresses. Each dress has a pair of underwear and a buckle loving tucked in the pocket.
What I love about this story is how it clearly demonstrates the power of the individual to affect change. What started out as one woman’s desire to help the children of Haiti inspired a much wider range of people to pitch in.
Gilbert and Yvette Saunders have a daughter working in a Haitian orphanage and they will be bringing the newly sewn dresses to Haiti when they visit. Friends, family, churches and local businesses are all chipping in by making dresses or donating supplies.
All because one woman wanted to do what she could to help.
There are a couple of different patterns online if you are a crafty person and think this is something you could do to help. I have provided a few links below:
A dress from Dad's shirt
Craftzine pattern
Pillow case dress
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Things don't have to change
This video is making the rounds on Facebook . I haven't been able to get this song out of my head since I heard this version (which might be a function of my current state of mind) but I have always liked this John Legend tune- and this young woman does a great job of it.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Waiting
Ever wonder how much of y0ur life is spent waiting? I have been giving that question a lot of thought these past few weeks. Waiting on the phone, waiting in line, waiting in traffic, waiting for a late friend, waiting in the Doctor's office, waiting for test results...the waits never seem to end.
I waited quite awhile yesterday for my Doctor appointment, mentally prepared to hear the best outcome, and the worst, but not expecting what I did get- which was essentially more tests ordered and more waiting.
It turns out the MRI revealed more lesions on my liver, 5 to be exact. While the Doctor could not rule out cancer absolutely, he does not believe it is cancer at this time. My age, lifestyle, and blood work does not point him in the direction of the Big C. Which is good.
It would have been better if he could have said he knew for sure it wasn't cancer...would have been awesome had he been able to tell me what is going on for sure. Alas, I have to go and have yet another test. Something called a Sulfur Colloid test- which will make me radioactive for 24 hours. I wonder if I will glow in the dark after this?
The downside of this test is two fold: it means another injection and I cannot be around children for 24 hours, including my son because I will be radioactive for that long. Yes, I will have a half life.
And, as an added bonus, I have to have a follow up MRI in 3 months to have a look see at what those pesky lesions on my liver are up to.
So that is the update- not exactly bad news, but certainly not great news.
I waited quite awhile yesterday for my Doctor appointment, mentally prepared to hear the best outcome, and the worst, but not expecting what I did get- which was essentially more tests ordered and more waiting.
It turns out the MRI revealed more lesions on my liver, 5 to be exact. While the Doctor could not rule out cancer absolutely, he does not believe it is cancer at this time. My age, lifestyle, and blood work does not point him in the direction of the Big C. Which is good.
It would have been better if he could have said he knew for sure it wasn't cancer...would have been awesome had he been able to tell me what is going on for sure. Alas, I have to go and have yet another test. Something called a Sulfur Colloid test- which will make me radioactive for 24 hours. I wonder if I will glow in the dark after this?
The downside of this test is two fold: it means another injection and I cannot be around children for 24 hours, including my son because I will be radioactive for that long. Yes, I will have a half life.
And, as an added bonus, I have to have a follow up MRI in 3 months to have a look see at what those pesky lesions on my liver are up to.
So that is the update- not exactly bad news, but certainly not great news.
Monday, April 19, 2010
MRI
I want to thank everyone for their kind comments and emails. It has been really something to get such wonderful messages of encouragement from people- friends I know and talk to in real life, and friends who I have gotten to know online. I truly appreciated it.
I had the MRI last Wednesday and I learned a couple of things.
The first: when your doctor asks you if you would like something to help you relax for the test the answer is YES. I was quite nervous about the test, the results, and the fact I would be injected with dye so I was pretty keyed up by the time I was in my hospital gown. However, when they brought me into the MRI room and I had a look at the machine I was about to inhabit for the next 60 minutes my knees were knocking.
The MRI looks like a giant dryer on steroids and it is long enough to hold a body. And the damned thing is loud. Put a few pairs of sneakers in the dryer and an alarm clock and there you have the sound it makes. Not on a consistent bases mind you, at intervals, odd ones too.
I lay back onto the bed and the technician put headphones on my head. He gave me a little ball to squeeze should I need to call for help, and then eased me into the machine. I had a moment of panic- one I did not expect.
I would never have described myself as claustrophobic, but I can tell you that the second thing that I learned last Wednesday is that I apparently have a touch of it- because from the moment he slid me in to the tube every molecule in my body was screaming to get out. The test did not hurt at all, the dye did make me a little sick, but it was a struggle for me to stay in the tube for 60 minutes, unable to really see anything but the tube, and flashing light, unable to move and unaware of how much longer I was going to be in there, and mentally trying to prepare for the next set of bangs and clicks. I had to talk myself down from full-on panic just before the end of the test. I was warm and stomach sick and scared.
When they finally slid me out of the MRI I was so relieved I was giddy. I almost hugged the technician. It took me about twenty minutes to get myself together and leave, my steps getting a little lighter the further away from the hospital I got.
Anyway it is done now. I will get the results from the Liver specialist tomorrow.
I had the MRI last Wednesday and I learned a couple of things.
The first: when your doctor asks you if you would like something to help you relax for the test the answer is YES. I was quite nervous about the test, the results, and the fact I would be injected with dye so I was pretty keyed up by the time I was in my hospital gown. However, when they brought me into the MRI room and I had a look at the machine I was about to inhabit for the next 60 minutes my knees were knocking.
The MRI looks like a giant dryer on steroids and it is long enough to hold a body. And the damned thing is loud. Put a few pairs of sneakers in the dryer and an alarm clock and there you have the sound it makes. Not on a consistent bases mind you, at intervals, odd ones too.
I lay back onto the bed and the technician put headphones on my head. He gave me a little ball to squeeze should I need to call for help, and then eased me into the machine. I had a moment of panic- one I did not expect.
I would never have described myself as claustrophobic, but I can tell you that the second thing that I learned last Wednesday is that I apparently have a touch of it- because from the moment he slid me in to the tube every molecule in my body was screaming to get out. The test did not hurt at all, the dye did make me a little sick, but it was a struggle for me to stay in the tube for 60 minutes, unable to really see anything but the tube, and flashing light, unable to move and unaware of how much longer I was going to be in there, and mentally trying to prepare for the next set of bangs and clicks. I had to talk myself down from full-on panic just before the end of the test. I was warm and stomach sick and scared.
When they finally slid me out of the MRI I was so relieved I was giddy. I almost hugged the technician. It took me about twenty minutes to get myself together and leave, my steps getting a little lighter the further away from the hospital I got.
Anyway it is done now. I will get the results from the Liver specialist tomorrow.
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