Life in progress

Tag Archives: family


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Update on a Weirdish Week

First, I’d like to say hi and welcome to my new followers. I appreciate your interest in my blog, and I promise to come and visit all of yours the moment I have a chance. I’ll put a few pertinent links in this post so you can keep up with the rest of the class. Here we go.

I have no clue why I posted not one, but TWO one-liners today. Okay, I do have an idea – WordPress wouldn’t let me not schedule the one I had scheduled, and when I tried to change it to next week I must have messed up. If you haven’t read them both, you probably should. Each have links to other people’s one-liners. There are some great ones this week!

Then this afternoon I was contemplating life and dreams and things when I came up with a great concept for a new novel! Only I’m not going to have time to write it. Editing is slow-going these days, even though I’ve been working on it every spare minute I have to sit quietly. Only 50 pages to go out of 524. 😀

I’m still searching for the perfect sleeping companion. I’ve tried a few but none have worked out. I can tell you, it’s frustrating having a different one every night of the week and never finding the satisfaction I was hoping for!

My doctor’s appointment went… okay. She’s going to get the records from my old doctor’s office to see what my x-ray and ultrasound from last May said about my right shoulder, but she doesn’t want to give me any exercises to do until she knows. The last idiot doctor said, “Just stretch.” He also said it was arthritis, but the symptoms don’t fit. So I have to wait for another month before I get any results.

On top of that now, I had a hellish weekend with Alex and had to move all the furniture except his bed out of his room, by myself, because he was smashing it and putting dents in the walls. Mostly, I didn’t want him to hurt himself. So what happened? I hurt the other shoulder.

BUT, I had this weekend to look forward to. The kids were going to go to their dad’s… but wait! He’s sick and so are the rest of his family! So no break. He offered to take them anyway, but with the new super-bug that’s going around, I don’t need to take the chance that Alex will end up in hospital like when he had H1N1… or when he had pneumonia… or RSV… or bronchiolitis… or… you get the picture. I did however manage to wrangle some hours out of my eldest son for Sunday so I can do the backstage tour of the National Arts Centre in Ottawa. I’ll take pictures!

And speaking of pictures, it was Alex’s picture day at school on Monday. He looked so dapper I couldn’t wait for the official photos. This was taken before school.

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He came home, however, with his shirt untucked and done up one button off, and the knot on his tie reaching his breastbone looking much like a drunken businessman.

Kids. 🙄

So that’s been my week. How ’bout yours?


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A Rant

I am officially ashamed of my job. The organization that prints and distributes the local newspaper that I deliver–that people pay good money for–needs to take a good, close look at itself and its practices. It’s no wonder subscriptions are on the decline. I’ve gone from having twenty-three customers to thirteen in the three years I’ve been doing the job.

Today, however, takes the proverbial cake.

The article in question (no, I won’t cite it for the following reasons:  a) I don’t want to advertise publicly where I live; b) the article is conspicuously absent from their website anyway; and c) I still work for them. For now.) is about a recent awareness-raising campaign entitled “Slut Walk.”

The annual Slut Walk, if you haven’t heard about it, is a tool to teach people (men mostly) that dressing like a slut isn’t an invitation for sexual assault. This, in and of itself, is a reasonable lesson to learn. You can read more about it here: http://www.slutwalktoronto.com/about/how if you’re interested.

But it’s not the Walk itself that I have a problem with – it’s the article.

Apart from numerous grammatical errors, (“you’re” instead of “your”? Come on!) which point blatantly at the fact that if an editor even read through the article he needs to be fired clean out of the editorial cannon, there are the questionable quotes from the event’s organizer, in which she states that the word ‘slut’ need not be a bad word, and that, “It just describes someone that is sexually promiscuous, someone who is maybe for work or for personal reasons and that is not a bad thing.”

Then she goes on to say people are complaining that the Walk isn’t child-friendly, but that, “…there is not a whole lot of scantily clad people…” this directly below a picture of a woman with the middle of her t-shirt cut out, revealing her bare breasts (and no, it’s not edited) and then, “…I think there is only one sign with profanity…there is nothing here that you wouldn’t see on TV or hear on the radio.”

Where is anything child-friendly about this scenario? On one hand you have a legitimate message – clothes don’t invite rape – and then on the other hand you have a newspaper quoting an organizer saying it’s okay for girls to be sexually promiscuous for work or personal reasons or whatever. Not only that, she’s blind!

And so is the editor of my damned paper!!!

Aside from finding a way to get a note to the author of the article to ask him if he grammars much, I’ve a good mind to write a letter to the editor.

I just don’t know where to start.


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What Keeps You From Feeling Your Age?

I stood at the kitchen counter yesterday, stirring Christopher’s medicine into his orange juice and I remembered learning to stir for the first time; I might have been three or four years old. It came back to me in a flash. My senses all conspired to bring me there: the sound of the spoon clinking around the inside the glass, the feel of the circular motion and the sight of my fingers manipulating the spoon in a way I no longer need to concentrate on.

Sometimes it’s the smell of freshly mowed grass, just as I recall it wafting in my bedroom window when my dad went out to mow the lawn before an early game of golf on a Sunday morning that takes me back. Or the taste of a shortbread cookie, dipped in a cup of tea.

Though many of my memories take me back to my childhood there is something inside me that refuses to believe I’m more than half my actual age. Despite my aches, the deterioration of my eyesight, and my inability to react as quickly as I used to, in my mind I can’t possibly be 50 years old.

They say that children keep us young as long as we can remember how to play.  For some it’s staying active, both in body and mind. I’m sure those memories that return as though they were only yesterday must have an influence on how we feel.

I hear people, all the time, say they don’t feel as old as the calendar tells them they must be.

What keeps you from feeling your age?


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SoCS – I Know Funny

My dad had a fantastic sense of humour. Very dry, very British. One of his favourite things to do was string people along with a story. He once, at a party, had one of his friends convinced that he had an awful disease, only to deliver the punchline minutes later that it was the “Dreaded Lurgie.” It’s a wonder anyone ever took him seriously. He also had a habit of making me spit my tea through my nose on a nightly basis. My mother wasn’t impressed.

It’s something I inherited–that sense of humour–though I don’t tend to torture people. I love making people laugh. I’m actually pretty good at delivering some kind of punchline just before I walk out a door. Always leave ’em laughing. And so naturally my kids have inherited it too. My ex, their father, has a great wit about him. My eldest son, Fred, was on the improv team in high school and the other two, with all their special needs, are sometimes the funniest people I know. Chris, as a matter of fact, just last night was singing “Hellfire” from the movie Hunchback of Notre Dame in the voice of Mickey Mouse, liberally replacing odd words with the words, “chicken” and “clubhouse.” He ended up sounding like Ethel Merman.

Alex is just a ham. This isn’t him at his best, but you get the idea. Especially the bit at the end. It’s a pirate hat, by the way.

Often I use their sense of humour to my advantage. Before a situation can get out of hand I’ll try to make them laugh, and usually it works.

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Stream of Consciousness Saturday is open for everyone to participate. Learn how, here!


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Re – SoCS (Return, Reach, Re-read)

Return. The word is going through my head over and over and mostly because I wish my eyesight would return to normal. At this particular moment anyway. It keeps going blurry and then for a few days it’s fine. I need to keep track of what I eat, perhaps. Or how I sleep. Or how many hours I spend looking at a computer screen.

Reach. Add an E at the end and you get Re-ache. What my shoulder keeps doing. First it’s fine and then it re-aches. Wow, I’m stretching with that word, aren’t I?

But I’m just complaining.

Still, it would be nice to be able to return to the full health I had even ten years ago. Living in the past can be a pain in the rear-end at the best of times. Especially since we can’t go back – we can only move forward. Forward to what? Hey, there’s another reason to stress.

I think about living in the moment often. I think about it more than I actually do it, because it takes practice. To actually BE in the moment, to fully concentrate on what I’m doing, whether it be breathing or typing or washing dishes, is easier depending on what I’m doing. It’s much easier for my mind to wander if I’m performing a mundane task. But when I write I must fully concentrate. In fact, trying to pull me out of this concentration is like trying to yank out a tooth with a pair of chopsticks. Not easy.

I read somewhere yesterday, a quote from an author who said that writing is not an escape from reality, but rather a plunging into it. I’m really up in the air on this one. Yes, a good piece of writing, whether fact or even fiction, can express reality in ways that we sometimes don’t want to face. But writing about one reality isn’t necessarily the reality that the writer is living in. Did that make any sense? I hope so.

Maybe I need to re-read that quote. 😉

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

A Stream of Consciousness Saturday post. You can join in too! https://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/09/05/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-september-614/


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An Unexpected Day – Tongue Firmly Planted in Cheek

Well! I got a nice surprise yesterday when I opened up an envelope that I received in the mail in, ohh, mid-July. I knew it contained the forms I had to fill out to send with Alex to school on the first day, and being who I am, I waited until the very last minute to have a gander. As it turns out, it wasn’t the last minute after all! Guess who had a “day off” on the very first day of school?

You guessed it!

So to celebrate, we went to the mall to buy shoes. … and rubber boots … and a baseball cap – all in Alex’s favourite, Spiderman!

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I drew the line at the Spiderman socks.


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Labour Day Indeed

It’s been a crazy day. I decided, finally, to do a garage sale. Unfortunately I didn’t get everything outside until 10:00am so I missed what might have been the morning rush. Final tally:

4 hours

8 dollars

1 crying kid (Alex wasn’t happy when we gave up waiting for the hoards of people he was expecting.)

I may try again next weekend, if I can get some help with the kids.

In other news, I’ve decided to re-release my “Second Seat on the Right” series on my fiction blog. It’s a series of scenes which take place in the second seat on the right side of a city bus. Written independently of each other, they often include repeat characters, each with their own ongoing story. The first one is published and an announcement will be made at the end of each when the next is scheduled.

Here’s a link to the first – hope you enjoy! http://lindaghillfiction.wordpress.com/2014/09/01/1-scenes-from-the-second-seat-on-the-right/


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Technology Sucks!

Incoming rant: be prepared to duck.

Why can’t they make computers that will last? Okay, fine, my desktop is four years old, and my son Chris is on it all the time. Almost. Today it started acting up. It has some sort of bug going on – whether it’s a virus or the hard drive is failing (which I think is the case) I’m not sure. But for an Autistic kid to deal with it’s the end of the world. I’ve spent most of this morning trying to fix the computer while Chris sits beside me beating his head with his fists and yelling.

All this after Alex came home yesterday to an infected laptop. Thank goodness I have Kaspersky on his machine – it cleaned it up quite well, though it took almost two hours to do it. It would work even better if it didn’t give him the choice when it detected an attack to go ahead and trust the virus or get out while the getting is good. He’s a very trusting little guy.

But it’s not only that the technology we use is so delicate which has me upset. Alex’s school has a great new program in which they’re using iPads to carry around in the community so they can communicate with hearing people. Wonderful, right? It would be if the school didn’t expect me to buy him an iPad. And I thought the expense of indoor shoes was bad enough!

And now Chris is asking me for a new computer. What I need is a car. A real one – not the 1993 puddle-jumping Tempo I inherited from my mother when the doctor took her license away in February. Wait, did I say technology? I suppose even the Flintstones thought their “cars” were technology. Anyway, the Tempo has taken to stalling every time I stop now… which I suppose is better than when it was zooming through stop signs no matter how hard I pressed on the brake.

Ugh!

End rant.

Seriously, I detest whining. I just had to get that off my chest. Thanks for reading.


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Stream of Consciousness Saturday – Ages (Can’t Keep ’em Separated)

Today is one of those rare days when I have no idea what I’m going to type. So I’ve decided to type into my thoughts rather than type what I’m already thinking.

The coffee is hot, the morning is pleasant as I sit at my kitchen table, watching the squirrels in my back yard search for places to hide their nuts. One, I see, has been in my flower pot. Ah well, the flower’s already dead.

I’m supposed to me talking about age. I remember a time when there was no way I’d have been content to just sit at the table and watch the squirrels. But we go through phases, don’t we? So energetic when we’re young. I consider myself lucky to still have energy – to be able to move with close to the ease I was able ten years ago, though the aches and pains seem to linger longer… linger longer. That’s just weird. Anyway, where was I?

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Fred, as crazy old Maurice from Beauty and the Beast

In four short days I’ll no longer have three teenagers – my eldest, Fred, turns twenty years old on the 2nd of September. That tiny little baby I used to hold and rock to sleep to the beat of heavy metal (he LOVED The Offspring’s Keep ‘Em Separated. With Chris it was anything Metallica, and Alex, well, he’s Deaf. As long as it had a beat…) now drags himself through the door at all hours of the morning after partying with his friends. Has much changed? Nah.

 

This was posted as part of SoCS. Find the rules at the click of the link and join in! https://lindaghill.wordpress.com/2014/08/29/the-friday-reminder-and-prompt-for-socs-august-3014/

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

Badge by: Doobster at Mindful Digressions

 


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Plans? What Plans? & Date Night With Me

I had it all planned out: clean up the house and get together the stuff for the garage sale, write one book, edit the other, read lots, learn Japanese… So what do you think happened? None of the above. Between my mother and my eldest son hanging around, I’ve barely had a moment to myself. Not that I’m really complaining of course. But I had plans, damnit!

Unscheduled was the turning around of my living room and the exit of my old wall-unit that I was thoroughly sick of looking at, and then the subsequent cleaning up of my living room which included vacuuming places that haven’t seen the light of day in almost five years. The good news is, I’m happy with the result.

Here’s the most recent pic. I obviously need someone who can paint a mural.

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I went to see the movie If I Stay on Tuesday night. I went Tuesday because it’s half price, which gave me just over $5 off. I didn’t make it to the showing I wanted however, so I decided to head over to the book store. Bought a book (How To Be a Canadian by Will and Ian Ferguson which actually had me laughing in the aisle) and cashed in my loyalty points which gave me $5 off. Then, having almost 2 hours to kill, I went to Boston Pizza (no, Jay Dee, I didn’t have the ribs) and ordered a salad with my meal and a big-assed glass of wine. I sat alone and enjoyed my meal (the waitress forgot to bring me the salad) and killed myself laughing while reading the book I’d just bought (How To Be a Canadian, if you didn’t catch it the first time) and when the waitress came to ask me if I was ready for my bill, I mentioned the salad. The bill came -$5, which made me happy.

Total bill for the night:

less than $20 for the movie and popcorn and a drink

less than $20 for the book

less than $20 for a meal with a big-assed glass of wine and a coffee including the tip.

I think I did quite well. The movie though? Made me cry. A LOT. But it was extremely well-acted and well-scripted. I’d recommend it for sure.

Tonight I’m sitting down with a bottle of white and some music to, with any luck, do some editing. Or writing. Or at the very least, reading. I have too much to catch up on before the kids come home on Saturday.

As for the garage sale? I can’t see it happening before Sunday. I need a break.