Dedicated to the Memory of Gaye Crawley:

Do Not Stand At My Grave and Weep

by Mary Elizabeth Frye

I am not there, I do not sleep.
I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.
I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.
I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die.

A SLICE

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!

I was doing errands today and was so pleased to see many sales associates, bank tellers, etc dressed up in Halloween costumes. Customers were thoroughly enjoying this show of festivity and it brought smiles to many faces.

...I have to admit there were some people I wasn't certain if they were indeed wearing costumes or not..................

CATHY'S COMPLIMENTS

Okay. I have the Complaining with Cathy feature but just to show you that yes, I can do the yin and yang thing, I have also decided to have Cathy's Compliments. Sort of like Martha Stewart's It's a Good Thing but less sanctimonious and requires much less effort and sort of like Oprah's Good Things but far less expensive and therefore easily attainable.

My first selection is Smirnoff Vodka Mojito . My brother brought it for Thanksgiving and I can tell you that yes, I was very thankful for this beverage! It is refreshing, not particularly sweet, and very delicious. True mojitos are made with rum but this offers a nice change.

My second selection is the beverage my brother brought for the family hockey pool draft: Jose Cuervo Golden Margarita(with Grand Marnier). Also very refreshing, not too sweet, and yes, very delicious.

What I have learnt: inviting my brother over is most definitely a good thing.

OLD LADY .........

.......look at my life, I'm a lot like you were...............


Last week Toban, Kyle, and I went to a Neil Young concert at GM Place. Yes, very cool.



He is 62 yrs. young and has an amazing amount of energy. He gave a great performance and played long and hard. I have to say though I was a little disappointed that he did not play Harvest Moon. I love that song. It's my favorite Neil Young song and one of my all-time favorite songs in general. And hey, it is October ....... could there be a better time to play Harvest Moon than October????
I have provided the link for your listening pleasure. (video included)http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RZw_Hr4X3dE


Things I Learnt at the Neil Young Concert:


1. My new low rider jeans aren't that comfortable after 3 hours of sitting. If the guy behind had spilled his beer, the inside of my jeans would have been wet.


2. Lots of males like Neil Young. Not used to going to concerts where there is that much testosterone. I am more likely to be found at Feist, Jann Arden, or Sarah McLaughlin. Never had to worry about beer getting spilt on me before.


3. Tickets scalpers often work in pairs. One guy buying tickets off another amateur scalper and his partner selling them at a higher price.


4. How come the beer drinkers can sit for 3 hours plus without having to get up to go pee?


5. One of the opening acts was a band called Death Cab for Cutie. Really. Any 'coolness' I was feeling about going to the concert quickly dissipated by learning that yes that is the band's real name. (I have no idea what it means either).


6. I am sooo not cool however much I may have thought by going to a Neil Young concert in my new low rider jeans with the new top from Fairweathers with my two sons. There I was standing outside GM Place waiting for the traffic cop to wave us on feeling all 'with it' and 'happening baby' when the traffic cop struck up a conversation with me. A bit of banter and then he asked me if I could name any other musicians named Neil. The keeners behind me (who have probably never even heard of low-rider jeans let alone own a pair) shouted out 'Neil Sedaka' and 'Neil Diamond.' I eagerly and smugly shouted out Neil Gallagher, lead guitarist from Oasis....much more current and cool then Neil Diamond or Neil Sedaka could ever have hoped to have been. When the guy looked at me blankly and the crowd went strangely quiet I just assumed that really, I was so cool, in fact too cool, and this crowd was so lost in the 70's and beyond that they didn't even know who Oasis was. Until of course I realized Toban was repeatedly saying 'NOEL' Mom, it's NOEL not Neil.'
SIGH. The crowd was too polite to even tsk tsk but the traffic cop took several steps away from me after indicating I could cross even though a semi-trailer was hurtling towards us.

Family Night Out

A Berdusco Family Night Out

Where do the Berdusco's head for a shared family night out? Bowling? Movie? Shoot pool? Concert? Nope, not this group. Last week Bruno, Toban, and Corey, and myself headed to an All Candidates Meeting in our community.

I always like attending all-candidates meetings at all three levels of government. I find them informative, interesting, and often entertaining. I was delighted when Toban eagerly volunteered to join me and even more so when Corey included himself. I think it is vital that they youth become engaged in the political process. They are going to live with the decisions and ramifications of governments actions for a long time and they have the power to be part of that entire process.

It was an interesting evening. The meeting was well organized and equal time was given to all candidates who were all polite, professional, and informative.

I am so grateful and appreciative that I live in a country where I can freely vote and know that my vote is counted. Living in a democracy is something that I really am very thankful for.

And the last item regarding the debate.......

Just had to share this with you; I think carries a lot of truth.

Graham Harrop's Viewpoint:

The Pub Debates
--From The Vancouver Sun Friday, October 3, 2008, Page A 14.

The 'Other' Debate

I watched part of it when it was recast later that same evening.

I seriously think that Sarah Palin is now doing a parody of herself. Tina Fey is NOT exaggerating at all.

...'nuff said.

THE DEBATE (Maple Leaf Style)

Did you watch it? What did you think?

Here are some of my impressions and observations:

I liked the format. I liked them sitting around a round table. Much more conducive to discussion and addressing one another than standing at podiums. I thought the moderator did a good job of keeping the discussion moving. I was impressed by all candidates. Regardless of their ideologies, platforms, policies, etc, this is a group of very intelligent articulate people.

Stephen Harper: Demonstrated he can keep his cool even when four loud aggressive adults are attacking him. This will come in handy when his children reach those teen years. He might not even need to wear the Fred Rogers approved sweaters.

Elizabeth May: Learnt she was a lawyer before entering politics. Can hold her own. Might not be so much fun to be around if you're a teenager. Or if you discard your juice box in the general trash can.

Stéphane Dion: Addressed all the Canadians who were shown asking questions in a clip by their name. Impressive. Bet he can name all seven dwarfs in record time.

Gilles Duceppe: Retourner au Québec et partir le reste de Canada seul.

Jack Layton: Can see him playing the bad cop in a good cop/bad cop routine. Especially with the moustache.

The Moderator: Steve Paikin. Did anyone else get the feeling he was dying to make fun of everyone? Like he would be great on This Hour Has 22 Minutes?

Five Additional Things I Observed From the Debate:

1. All four male candidates wore boring and uninspiring ties.

2. Elizabeth didn't wear a boring tie but I'd like to see her hair jazzed up a bit. With environmental friendly dyes of course. And a new hair cut ..... in a green salon with fare trade products, world music, and recycling bins for all that hair.

3. Stephane Dion mentioned 'FUN!!!' several times. I think there just may be a completely different side to him. He is French after all.

4. Stephen Harper never mentioned 'FUN!!!' at all.

5. Gilles Duceppe had the best line of the night; when each candidate had to respond to the question of what is the first thing they would do if they became prime minster he responded: 'Well I know I won't be prime minister and three of you won't be prime minister neither, some of you know but you don't say it....................

BOOK MARK ... Cathy-Emily's Book Chat

Introducing a new on-going feature: Cathy's Book Chat.

Books. I love them. I love reading; I can and will spend hours in a library or book store. My first trip to the public library occurred when I was approximately four years old. My parents were regular patrons and I will always be grateful for their introduction to such a worthwhile community facility and encouraging what would become one of my most cherished past-times.

The children's section was downstairs and I remember descending those stairs with a sense of anticipation. The librarian read me a Curious George story. I was completely captivated and enthralled: at the facility, at Curious George, but mostly the possibilities the library afforded. Here was a treasure grove of options; the limitless amount of accounts, tales, adventures, descriptions of characters and the complexities of their lives all within a welcome reach. It could be as simple as the Man in the Yellow Hat or as complex as Sybil, a cookbook with wonderful photographs of salad making, a volume of Canadian poetry, or how to change your brake fluid (you ask your Dad!).

Some of my richest and most contented memories of my childhood involved a book or series of books. On birthdays and holidays, I was often the happy recipient of volumes to the Thornton Burgess collection of animal stories. Each volume featured a story about a different forest animal. I loved those stories and knew all the characters by heart (Sammy Jay, Danny Meadow Mouse, Reddy Fox, etc). Even when I wasn't engaged in reading them, I still amused myself with these books. Each shiny hard cover was a different colour and I used to build towers arranging them in colour groups and building little forts, dreaming about the next one I might receive.

In grade six I was placed in a class where independent reading was encouraged. Each month the teacher would take four different students to the public library and each child would select 10 books for the classroom. We could then chose a book and subsequent self directed language arts activities related to that book. We were also encouraged to chose titles from other sources as well. I read Charles Nordhoff's Mutiny on the Bounty, followed by Men Against the Sea, and finally Pitcairn's Island. Huge wordy tomes especially for an 11 yr. but I was fascinated by references to wormy cheese, thirst-crazed men reduced to drinking their own urine, and exotic natives interacting with English seamen. I also recall reading a book translated from German about the day the Americans dropped the bomb of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. As an activity for the book I chose to write to the author and did receive a letter back in German. I still have the letter. I read a vast variety of books: Nancy Drew, or better yet The Hardy Boys, Doc Savage, Golden Magazine, books about ghosts, books about fairies, sci-fi, newspapers, Mad magazines, cookbooks, poetry, National Geographic, etc.

When I began babysitting I borrowed profusely from my employers. I read through Rex Stout's Nero Wolfe mysteries, the typical Harlequin romance novels, Ian Fleming's James Bond series, Agatha Christy's Hercule Poirot mysteries, whatever was available and caught my eye.

While I was taking Children's Literature at SFU for PDP one of professors required us to read several children's books and young adult novels. He maintained that he seldom read 'adult' (and please I am not referring to porn here) literature anymore; that he simply found it too dark and depressing and found it much more interesting reading literature aimed at youth. I have to agree that some of the most wonderful books I have read have indeed been written with this age group in mind: Harry Potter, Chronicles of Narnia, The Series of Unfortunate Events, The Secret Garden, etc. I love the imagination, the creativity, and ability to transport oneself into a realm where magic is a very real component and fantasy is tangible.

It is with this thought that I want to share with you the latest book I am reading: Darkwing by Kenneth Oppal. (http://www.kennethoppel.ca/home.htm)
Corey first introduced this particular series of books to me by this Canadian author several years ago: Silverwing, Firewing, Sunwing. All three novels feature bats as the main characters and are unique, interesting, and very entertaining. Corey and his classmates loved them! LOVED them! They discussed them endlessly, reread them, discussed them some more and encouraged others to read them. Darkwing takes place in the Paleocene Era (65-55 million yrs.ago) and features prehistoric-type bats. Some of the main characters are undergoing evolutionary changes which is one of the key elements to the story. Fascinating book. I encourage anyone from 9yrs. and up to read these stories.

This will become a regular and on-going feature of this blog: I will share my feelings about a book I am reading and invite your comments and thoughts on it as well.

A Slice ---- Idle Question of the Day

Does This Make Cents???? (September 26)

Okay so I'm crossing the middle of the street and I spy a penny. I bend down to pick it up (Find a penny, Pick it up, And all the day, You'll have good luck) and I fumble and it drops. While I wondering if this is an omen and what impact this will have on any future luck (Yes, Cathy-Emily YOU are the winner of million dollar contest BUT you will receive it all in pennies spread over the next 40 yrs) I notice a car coming in my direction.

How lucky can picking up a penny be if a car hits you while you are picking it up????

A Slice

The Wheels on the Bus are Still Going Round and Round (September 18)

Some of you may recall my entry (February 6) regarding taking the bus and my observations on the general politeness of today's youth.

Here is an anecdote Corey recently shared with me:

He was taking the bus to school one morning; one of those little 24 passenger community shuttles; and it was full when it approached an elderly lady standing at a stop. Unlike the larger buses, these smaller ones are not allowed to have passengers standing and it is normal practice for the driver to drive past a stop without stopping once it has reached maximum capacity. However, seeing it was an elderly woman, the driver stopped, told the woman he could not let her on and there would be another bus in 15 minutes. The woman did not seem to understand and after the driver closed the door she tried to reopen it and was yelling in what Corey guessed was a foreign language. She seemed quite upset and agitated. A young girl, maybe 13, without saying a word, got off the bus and let the lady have her seat.

Makes you almost cry doesn't it?

I have responded to any new comments I noticed today. ---even from some of the archived posts. (Thinking of one in particular regarding Trevor Linden) I love comments. LOVE them. In fact, I think I need them.

COMPLAINING WITH CATHY

*I have amended the title from Cathy's Complaints to Complaining With Cathy because it is my sincerest hope that you, my regular readership (a couple of loyal cousins and maybe a begrudging friend or two) will join via the comment section and participate in the discussion.


Kitchen Related Stuff
1. You are baking and your recipe calls for: Greased Tins. I hate doing this. Time consuming and messy. Yes, parchment paper is a great alternative but

a) you have to make sure you have it on hand
b) it's expensive
c) I can't draw a straight line let alone rip a section of parchment paper anywhere near the correct size to line a cookie sheet. Seriously.
d) After the first couple of batches the paper gets a little burnt looking around the edges. Am I supposed to replace it? Is this a fire hazard? Should I make fewer batches?

2. Two cooks of cooked chicken. You have selected a recipe and not only does it sound delicious but it sounds EASY!!!! And QUICK!!! Yes, you can make, serve, eat, and clean-up dinner all in time to catch the early showing of the latest chick flick with a girlfriend! You are already onto Step Three when your eyes stumble along the phrase: Add 2 cups of chopped chicken to above ingredients. Two cups of chopped chicken. Like that's going to happen.*

3. Finished Baked Quantities.
Yeah right....the cookie recipe states right there in official black and white font: Quantity; makes 6 dozen. I do the math: 12 x 6 =72. 72 cookies. Right. So how come I only end up with 31. And I only ate enough cookie batter to warrant 2 (okay maybe 4) cookies? Answer me that Betty Crocker and Martha Stewart!!!!!
*******


*So I then have three choices:
1. Run to the store and buy cooked a chicken
2. Order pizza thus ensuring I make my movie date
3. Swear, throw cookbook on floor, leave a box of KD on the table for the others and inform friend we are grabbing a bite to eat on the way to the movie. At a LICENSED restaurant.

...It's a no-brainer isn't it?

Introducing New Feature!

HALF EMPTY OR HALF FULL?

I would like to take this opportunity to introduce a new feature that occasionally will be appearing:-

WARNING: For those of you eternally positive the glass is half full types clad in your rose coloured glasses humming 'The sun will come tomorrow' this is not for you. You may stop reading now. You can still save yourself. However those of you who occasionally like to embrace your inner petty cynical side, please read on. You know who you are. Most people do.


This new feature will be called Cathy's Complaints and in effect I will share some things that annoy the hell out of me. Sound like fun? I am very good at this: just ask my kids. Apparently my general skepticism and cynicism is alive, healthy, and quite active. And lucky for you, I feel the need to share such observations with you. You are welcome to add your two cents worth in the comment section although only if you either commiserate with me or add your own new personal complaints. Whining and bitching quite welcome. Encouraging and proactism; not so much.

Look for this exciting new feature coming soon!
Let's face it: it will probably rain somewhere tomorrow. And there's a hole in your boot and you left your umbrella on the bus. And singing 'The sun will come out tomorrow' will not make the rain dripping down your neck feel any less uncomfortable.

A Slice............

'BUT I LIKE IT TOO???......' (said in pseudo-Irish accent reminiscent of the old Irish Spring Commercial http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sQk-imB1m2k )

Public Service Announcement to all 13yr.old males: Okay, I realize there probably aren't any 13yr.old males reading this blog, in fact I doubt if anyone is reading this except for a few loyal cousins but nonetheless this is an important message, and for the safety and welfare of parents everywhere needs to be said: Dousing yourself with half a can of Axe body spray, deodorant, or after shave will not ensure you will have a kick-ass time at the dance.

Nothing proves the need to put into practise the axiom 'Less is More' than the experience of driving middle-school aged males to a dance. Perhaps in a convertible with the top down on a windy day might make the experience acceptable but in a small sedan with several adolescent boys drenched with various lethal levels of 'fragrances' it is more about survival than anything else. My son mistook the tears welling up in my eyes for sentimentality that my 'little boy' is growing up but really, they were just the effects of the stinging toxic-like fumes. Clearing my throat repeatedly weren't attempts to stifle my sobs but rather efforts to remain breathing and, well, alive.

The lesson for today is: Less is More OR Unconscious drivers will be unable to safely transport you to the dance.

Little Black Bombs

Disney has got it wrong: some animals regardless
of a cute accompanying theme song and irrepressible charming voice simply are NOT likable in real life. There is no way they could convince me that any one of the loud obnoxious raucous aggressive crows in my yard are endearing. They are black bullets disturbing the peace of the neighborhood. Rats of the sky. Giving them a cute name like Chuck or Cawly or Thorton and a wisecracking squirrel friend would not diminish my desire to pull out a .22rifle and plummet them full of lead. (Not the squirrel...those are actually quite cute).

Today I was attacked by them. Literally, frighteningly, and repeatedly. In my own yard. I was peering up into our blue spruce tree to assess the health of the new spring growth when one of the little black buggers swooped down and dive bombed my head. Repeatedly. Apparently the flying black rascals have built a nest for their spawn in my tree. I ran wildly shrieking towards the safety of the garage thereby providing entertainment for the neighbours. They were pleased to add this to the neighborhood history of the sight of me running wildly shrieking from the dead coyote.*

The crow considered flying into the garage but stopped short hovering his black wings ominously. Scenes from Alfred Hitchcock's 'Birds' skittered in my mind. It was the first horror movie I ever saw and the one that left the biggest impression upon me. I was about 9-10 years old and everyone the next day at school was talking about it. I literally walked to and fro school for ages with my eyes cast down. If a rabid dog or speeding car ever came charging towards me I would have been toast but at least my eyes would have been intact.

I ventured out of my garage a few minutes later only to be stormed upon yet again. One of the black hecklers stood guard on a lamppost across the street: a sooty sentinel prepared to defend the safety of his young family. Noble? Um, yeah okay. Sure. Whatever. I can hear a chorus of West Coasters chanting, 'Save the Whales, Save the Seals, Save Gas--take transit, Save Plastics marked 1,2,4,and 5 for your recycling bins, Save the Hockey Night in Canada song---sign a petition, Save Your Body, Soul, and Mind...try Whole Foods Market.'**
What about Save Cathy-Emily's peace of mind, sanity, and spirit? How about saving that?? HUH??? How about that?? Huh???? Well????

Being truly afraid and truly Canadian I grabbed a nearby hockey stick prepared to defend my skull and more importantly my newly coloured and cut hairstyle. I cautiously edged out of the garage, hockey stick in a position Tiger Williams would be proud of and carefully began to make my way to the 'other' side of the yard. The crow dived, but veered off when he saw the hockey stick and settled down on a taller outpost to guard his nest.

I retreated inside for some revitalizing and galvanizing refreshment (no, most definitely NOT tea) and to begin plotting ways of eradicating these pesky intrusive black bombs from my yard. Puhleeze.....don't give me 'they are only trying to protect their family.....they are acting instinctively.....they are part of nature.' So are spiders, slugs, aphids, and moles. 'Nuff said.

Crows, often are featured in European legends or mythology as portents or harbingers of doom or death, because of their dark plumage, unnerving calls, and tendency to eat carrion. Shall I go on??? Think of it ...... a group of crows is called a 'murder.' Not a quaint flock or whimsical gaggle or efficient colony but a murder. A murder of crows. Which gives me an idea................I may just have the solution to this problem................bahaahaaahaaaa.....................

Sing a song of sixpence a pocket full of rye,
Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.
When the pie was opened the birds began to sing,
Oh wasn't that a dainty dish to set before the king?
The king was in his counting house counting out his money,
The queen was in the parlour eating bread and honey
The maid was in the garden hanging out the clothes,
When down came a blackbird and pecked off her nose!

Yeah that's right.... the classic Nursery Rhyme has got it right........Bake them!!! Roast them!! Fry them!!! Microwave them!
Mutilating the maid's nose!!! Plastic surgery is just not possible on a maid's wages.

*Please refer to Christmas Newsletter 2006.
**Overly-priced supermarket specializing in all things organic and green. Like crisp cold cash. And lots of it.

A Slice......

WHAT'S COOKING? .......... (May)

............apparently me. On a daily basis. And I don't mean in some kind of thrilling sexual way. No, rather in an apron, in the kitchen with pots and pans, and various ingredients. My cooktop needed repairing and Bruno was able to repair it within a matter of hours. Hurrah! (insert heavy sarcasm.)

I had images (well more like hopes) of the cooktop being out of commission for days if not weeks. Reservations and various restaurant names danced in my head like Kristi Yamaguchi and Mark Ballas. Now the only thing dancing is the garlic skittering across the skillet for the beginning of yet another meal.

...I guess I can always hope that the refrigerator goes on the fritz............

Growing pains

Is there ever a group of kids more painful to observe then those going through the middle school years? I was attending an event at Corey's school today and had the opportunity to regard this stage with all its awkward complexities and painful simplicities.

This is the age where kids bodies betray them by growing too fast, growing too slow, by acme blemishes on their faces, by braces, by gangly limbs that careen unreconciled with the rest of their body, by cracking voices, by unfamiliar hormones in even more unfamiliar bodies, and all of it in front of their very observant peer group. This is a group where some still enjoy the pleasure their legos and action figures give them while others are looking to pot and alcohol for pleasure or escape. This is a group where their clothing, language, expressions, accessories, habits, recreation, etc, are scrutinized by their peer group to see what likely group or clique they belong. This is the group that yearns to assert their own independence but wants to do so while looking like everyone else. And for the ones who do not find their niche or who do find a place to belong, this can be a time of desperation and intense loneliness.

It is a time of very high highs and very low lows. Watching them enter the gym, a jumble of movement and energy, an exposition of unwieldy limbs and innocence grace, they took their seats, a sea of jostling adolescent humanity.


So much energy, joy, enthusiasm, and pain all contained in one place.
The middle school years.

A Slice....................

Beam me up and away.............. (April 17)

Bruno informed me this morning that our broken Beam vacuum cleaner could take several days to either repair or replace and would I mind?

Are you kidding?????? If only the oven, cooktop, and microwave would cease working I would be one happy camper.

Into the Wild (Part two)

I'm at Safeway (my home away from home *big big sigh*) and I pass a bunker of books. I try to ignore them (because I have several unread books at home calling my name) but find myself slowing down and then coming to complete stop scanning the titles. One of the very first books I spy is 'Into the Wild.' Since seeing the movie version it has been on my mind and I have been interested in reading the book. A little coincidental don't you think? The 40% off sign also confirmed that I only had one course of action and that was to purchase the book.

I am only about a third into the story....and it is as compelling as the movie. I am trying to understand what it is about this true story that I find so completely disturbing besides the obvious. It isn't just the fate of the young man that saddens me; many people every day lose their lives tragically. I think it is more his attitude for his family that disturbs me; I haven't yet been able to decide if it was a callous indifference or a more passioned anger. However it can be categorized though, I find it difficult to comprehend the needless pain he caused his family to suffer. Even withstanding the possibility that they may have had irreconcilable differences, he deprived them of a chance to at least try to understand.

I guess too that I cannot help to think of the many struggles fought everyday for life to survive, and here is this young man, trapezing into the snow clad Alaskan wild with little in the way of proper equipment or planning, but laden with romantic idealism.

At the Sock Hop

Driving down the street today I felt like I was an observer at some strange school dance. On one side of the road the cherry trees were in full bloom; girls adorned in their frothy billowing pink and white dresses standing daintly in a row. On the other side of the street, branches bare and naked; skinny awkward boys lined up clad in their uniform of adolescent conformity.

Two lines facing one another: waiting for one blossom or twig to waft down in the middle and start the swirl of movement and colour.

*It was truly a strange movement driving past two rows of cherry trees: one side in full bloom and the other just beginning to awaken. Could one side catch that much more sun than the other? Perhaps they are different types of trees?
It looked something like this except the flowering trees on my street were a mix of white and pink blossoms and the trees were very full and rounded. The bare trees were more of a dark nut brown with the branches reaching in all directions. I would have taken a photo with my new phone but seeing as I haven't yet even mastered how to turn the thing off, it is safe to assume that really wasn't a feasible option.

The Beached Whales

Okay, so the Canucks are out of the playoffs. Or more accurately they didn't even make the playoffs. This situation will be analyzed, discussed, argued, and debated, (someone will probably even write a song about it) for months and months on talk shows all around the province. And *sigh* at my dinner table, my parents Sunday dinner table and any time anywhere there is a lag in the conversation.

These are my thoughts on the subject:

They are startling simplistic but true....

1. I would have liked to have seen them go further. It would have been exciting.

2. I would have liked Trevor Linden to have won a Stanley Cup.

3. I would have liked them to go further for my cousin Loret....her excitement regarding them is infectious if not just a tad scary.

4. It would have been good for many a local business.

5. I like it when local people start wearing Canucks jerseys to work and flying Canucks flags on their cars. I probably get more enjoyment out of that then actually watching a game.

---was there anyone who was not touched by the standing ovation that Trevor Linden received? anyone???? All my sons have always been so impressed with this player.....a good role model.

Other random thoughts regarding the NHL playoffs:

I hope a Canadian team is in the final. I hope a Canadian team wins the final.

I loathe the Edmonton Oilers logo......a drip of oil?????? A oil drip????

I love the word zamboni. It is fun to say. Zamboni.

A team with a European or Russian captain has never won the Stanley Cup. Or not for a long long time. Or something like that.

Will Janet Gretzky place a bet on the final game?

With the season being over for the Canucks we can all relax a bit and turn our attention to something else. Like the new episodes of The Office. And hey, this just may be the perfect time for you to try making a Caesar salad.

Hail Caesar

I decided that we should be eating more salads. I have a few favorites that everyone likes but I was really ready to try out some new recipes. I borrowed a few salad books from the library (libraries really are incredible places) and have been going through them. First up I made a Wilted Spinach Salad which was very good and the crisp garlic croutes that accompanied it were fantastic.

Next up was a classic caesar salad. I have always wanted to make a traditional one from scratch with the egg, lemon juice, and anchovies. Actually Bruno and I both made slightly different versions on different nights. His dressing was much nicer than mine; lighter, fresher, very refreshing. However, mine had the addition of anchovies, freshly grated parmesan, and croutons which are delicious additions.
Probably a case where too many chefs in the kitchen actually resulted in the perfect Caesar salad.

Listen, I urge you all to try making a homemade Caesar Salad. Seriously. Leave out the anchovies if you must. And you might want to modify the dressing a bit...many of the recipes are a bit too generous with the olive oil. But it is essential that you use the best quality ingredients that you can afford and/or find. For example, use a quality olive oil, a fresh lemon, parmesan cheese from the Italian store, and crisp fresh romaine. It really was an experience eating a fresh authentic caesar. Great flavours.

Try it. Let me know how it turned out.




This has been a public service announcement brought to you by CEB

Post Script

Is it too late too say 'APRIL FOOLS DAY?????'

...oh come on.....it still is April.....some of you are still probably nibbling away at your Easter chocolate....although that is one activity I never procrastinate about...........

Prob ems....

Al day lon I hav been try ng to submit a ew entry fo blog ing but seem to have a c mputer litch hat is beyon frustratin as you can s e. I ope you can mak sense o this wit so many leters missing. I had ots to te l you involving a tomat, a sunhat, and the K ma Sutra but as u can see ther is a prob em. I ave cal ed in the big gu s (Cor y and Brun ) but even they ave been unabl to r solve this prob em. I have utilize all the elp link on my comp ter and stil hav n't foun any proce s or tec nique to ix this problem. Unles I am able to repa r this problem, I will no long r be able to continue with this b og.

..Into The Wild.............

Last night I watched Into the Wild (http://www.intothewild.com/) and it is one of those movies that you find yourself thinking about for days. It is based on a true story which is what makes it so nuch poignant and disturbing.

I am now interested in reading the book, same title, by Jon Krakauer:

http://www.amazon.com/gp/reader/0385486804/ref=sib_dp_pt#reader-link

Would love to know what others thought about this film/book..............

A Slice.....

Ketchup Anyone???? (March 31)

I am in the den and Corey is on the computer next to me listening to the Red Hot Chili Peppers (Californication) and it brings me back to the summer when that song came out and a 5-yr.old Corey hearing the song on the radio again would exclaim "Hey, it's the Red Hot Chili Dogs!"

-------

Thank God he wasn't a fan of the Swollen Members.

March 17

GO GREEN TODAY!!!!

HAPPY ST.PATRICK'S DAY!

(and Happy Birthday to Sherrie!!!!)

Are you wearing green???!! Green socks? Undies? Earrings? Come on!!! Green nail polish? Green icing under your chin? Green moustache from all that green beer?

I love St.Patrick's Day. Not sure why; I'm not Irish, I don't like beer, I'm not sure how to dance a jig, and I'm not really sure who St.Patrick is and why he only wears green. It's just a great day to celebrate.

Corey and I will be making our traditional jello jiggler shamrocks. This year instead of buying green jello we are mixing yellow and blue jello powders which hopefully will result in green jello. I know you will be undoubtedly checking here frequently and regularly throughout the day to find out how it all worked out and I will post as soon as we have the final result.

Even though you may be partaking in merry making it still is important to remember to ensure you are meeting your recommended daily calcuim requirements.. Therefore I have included a recipe that not only acknowledges the holiday but also includes a daily dose of calcium.

Shamrock Shake
1 oz Crème de Menthe
1/2 oz Vodka
1 scoop Vanilla Ice Cream
Place in blender and mix at low speed until smooth.
Serve in a chilled glass with a sprig of mint to garnish.

Hope you all have a McWonderful Day!

A Slice...........

...My Daily Giggle........ (March 16)

My new favorite comic strip is Cul de Sac by Richard Thompson. I am really enjoying the daily antics of Alice and her family and friends.

You can check it out for yourself: http://www.gocomics.com/culdesac/?ref=ql_cmcs&campid=0&ssns=9

The link includes a calendar so you can catch up on some of the previous ones you may have missed.

*Warning: This entry contains no mention of sex, chocolate, money, Elvis, UFOs, or Brittany Spears. It does however contain much of CathyEmily's incessant ramblings and droning on about the weather, the outdoors, the time of year, etc. In short, it will most likely have the exact opposite effect that caffeine has on you and your state of alertness. Don't say you weren't forewarned........

Seasons

I'm glad I live

Where seasons change -

I like my world

To rearrange

-anonymous

I love living on the West Coast. I love the change of seasons. I love observing the earth, the sky, the trees, the moon, the changing light as the seasons change. I derive much pleasure from experiencing the dance of winter, spring, summer and fall. I find it exhilarating, relaxing, calming, joyous...even spiritual. There is so much to experience during these seasonal changes; even the weight of the air feels different according to the time of year. The colour of the moon. The scents in the air. Colours. Sounds. The hill sides. Trees. The trees! Even weeds; the incessant strong-willed tufts of grass that jab their heads through cracks of stony grey cement; soft velvet furtive moss that lays a bridge alongside a step; the yellow teasing heads of buttercups nodding to us like beacons of sun-rays; clover waving slightly in the breeze...delicate emerald leaves with dainty purple gifts smiling like plump round faces in the summer light. The seasons. Sometimes changing softly and gracefully; other times fervently and abruptly. And at all times enchanting, sensuous and bewitching.

Our Winter is slowing fading like a small grey cloud wafting away in a late day breeze through tired trees and starved fields. Spring tentatively approaches its strength growing with each new tuft of crocuses waking up the dormant earth like a beaming alarm clock.

This entry will be my nod to the month of March. Included randomly will be March/Spring time poems that I like, quotes, musings, and more rambling that will only be of interest to me. And yes, there still will be NO mention of sex, chocolate, Elvis, UFO's or the latest movie star's plans to adopt a third world baby. Just my acknowledgement to Spring.

March comes in like a lion,
And goes out like a lamb.

******************************************

White sheep, white sheep on a blue hill.
When the wind stops, you all stand still.
When the wind blows, you walk away slow.
White sheep, white sheep, where do you go?
Christina G. Rossetti

This poem was in my grade one reader. I loved it and have never forgotten it.

******************************************

Little Robin Redbreast sat upon a tree,
Up went pussy cat, and down went he!
Down came Pussy, and away Robin ran;
Says little Robin Redbreast, "Catch me if you can!"

Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a spade,
Pussy cat jumped after him, and then he was afraid.
Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did Pussy say?
Pussy cat said, "Mew, mew, mew," and Robin jumped away.

Little Robin Redbreast jumped upon a wall,
Pussy cast jumped after him, and almost got a fall!
Little Robin chirped and sang, and what did Pussy say?
Pussy cat said, "mew," and Robin flew away.
---Mother Goose---

Obviously I have a deep affection for the poems of my childhood.

"Be like the flower, turn your face to the sun."
— Kahlil Gibran

The best thing one can do when it's raining is to let it rain.
— Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Don't knock the weather; nine-tenths of the people couldn't start a conversation if it didn't change once in a while.
— Kin Hubbard

When I was a child, pussy-willows were always a significant part of Spring and school. Every year the teacher always had a vase of them and usually some art activity (always on Friday afternoon) featured them in some fashion. The only time I see them now is at Granville market being sold for outrageous prices. Didn't they use to grow wild throughout the lower mainland?

Spring is the jelly beans of nature. Pockets and streams of vivid colours embellishing the earth in a startling song to awaken it from its winter rest. Fields of daffodils like yellow arrows shooting straight for the heavens. Cherry trees wearing their pink feminine blossoms hanging like earrings on a dozen long brown slim necks. The scent of the remaining exhausted autumn leaves swirled with newer greener scents of growth and renewal.

Birds. The return of certain birds. New songs outside the window.

The fierce raucous return of noisy, bold, aggressive crows. Black impudent vandals bombarding the airspace with their impertinent saucy attitude.

Showers. Puddles. Dripping umbrellas. Mud. Soggy fields.

Sun. Rainbows. Slate-grey skies illuminated by a high bright far off sun.

There's a raw pink clump of rhubarb unfurling in my garden like a lone seashell beckoning to the stars.

--

Easter Bonnets. Does anyone else remember that making Easter bonnets was a annual art activity in elementary school?

--

I like Spring. I like watching the earth slowly wake up and stretch out it's limbs in a colourful array of blossoms, buds, and tender sprigs. Yet it also makes me feel sad to see winter slipping away and retreating for another year.

When Does Life Become History?

Last Saturday, Bruno and I found ourselves in the Stevenston Museum which is housed in the 100yr.old building that was originally built as the Northern Bank, Stevenston's very first bank. As well as currently serving as a museum it also devotes some space to a currently functioning post office.

However, someone needs to inform the authorities of the many errors found in their 'historical' exhibits. In several of the showcases I observed items that I recall seeing in my home when I was a child. This could only be a mistake since we were after all, in a museum, that was in fact, a heritage site, meaning old, ancient, from the past....the loooooong ago past. Which does not explain why items from my childhood should even be considered for a museum let alone actual exhibits.
And as soon as I can remember where my reading glasses are, I intend to write the authorities and demand they change these erroneous and misleading displays.

A SLICE...................

Suits me just fine..... (March 1)

Watched Oceans Thirteen last night......is there anyone who looks as good in a suit as George Clooney? Anyone??? He always looks sauve, cool, and sexy without ever looky stuffy or too business-like. Enjoyed the movie too.

I'm not fussy though-----I also liked him in his other suit....the Batman one.

A SLICE...................

There's a teenager in the house...... (February 29)

Someone once sent me a card with the saying: 'There is a special place in heaven for the mothers of boys' and while I appreciated the sentiment it really should read, 'There is a special place in heaven for the mothers of teenagers.'

....'Nuff said.

Seeing Red

Some of you may remember the Shocking Red-Hair Incident that featured my head a few winters ago. If you saw me, you know what I am talking about. A few weeks before Christmas, I decided that in addition to getting my hair cut, I would also get a few red 'highlights.' I thought it would kick it up a bit and be fun. Yes fun. Which is how it turned out to be....as in fun like a clown. Picture Ronald McDonald. Seriously.

My hairdresser (oops, sorry, hairstylist) seizing the opportunity of my being rendered speechless, assured me it was FUN, FUNKY, and FEISTY and that if I really couldn't live with it then she would redo it in a week. I already was thinking it was FREAKY, FRIGHTENING, AND F-UGLY but nodded meekly shaking my head (causing a vortex of red flashes in the room sending the elderly lady two chairs down from me into a trance-like state) and stumbled out of the shop.

I spent the following week trying to embrace the philosophy that I am so fond of espousing; Life is Attitude. Yes I may now look like a female middle-aged Ronald McDonald minus the yellow jumpsuit or alternatively, be sporting the hair of a rebellious-most-likely-liberally-tattooed-and-pierced 14-yr.old girl BUT it could be worse. I could have to stand under garish fluorescent lights serving the public while they stare at my head and nudge each other while trying to stifle their snickers. Oh wait; that was my week.

People's reactions were varied and almost always entertaining. Some of my co-workers just gasped, stared and then said NOTHING. Not even the obligatory, "Hey your hair! It's cartoon red!"

Others would say "Wow.' Your hair" And then nothing. In the ensuing embarrassing silence, my face would turn as red as my hair so I resembled a large red balloon atop a human body. Not the nicest visual.

Still others would say things like, "Your hair! It's fun!" (Do they know my hairdresser???) "It looks great!"

To which I would reply, "I'm getting it redone at the end of the week."

And each and every one of them would respond, "That is a GREAT idea. You should. You really really should."

Some people called me names like 'Stop Sign,' 'Fire Truck,' 'Traffic Light' 'Candy Apple' and worse of all 'Lobster.'

When the week was up, I flew back to the salon (are you picturing Flash?) and the hairstylist did 'tone' it down somewhat.....the YVR stopped calling and inquiring if I could guide their planes in on foggy nights.

It was an uncomfortable and rather embarrassing week but in time I was able to laugh about it and leave smaller tips for my hairstylist.

So, this past week, foolishly and naively figuring that the coloured mistakes of the past could not be repeated, I found myself in my hair-stylist's chair asking for highlights. I empathized that I wanted highlights only to enhance my hair.....not to be the focal point.....I think I probably said 'subtle' half-a-dozen time. I even pointed out the dark cherry shades in the fold-out colour chart she handed me.

Three hours later, I was convinced that my stylist is colour blind or pissed off at me for not being more generous with tips. When she unveiled my new hair.....she used the word 'vibrant.'

Vibrant.

Okay, let's just think about that word for a moment. Vibrant. Vibrant red. Close your eyes. Vibrant red.

Did anyone see a middle-aged woman with dark hair and a hint, just a hint of deep dark cherry?

Not one of you right?

Not exactly sure how my stylist went from hearing subtle, subtle, subtle to then producing VIBRANT red but somehow inexplicably she did. Perhaps the concentrated fumes from the combined strong intense vibrant dyes she had been using has affected her and her ability to accurately mix colours. Whatever...it resulted in such a vibrant shade on my head that I was in need of someone to mix me a strong intense vibrant drink.

She did 'tone' it down before I left the shop. Somewhat. A tad. Think of the difference between a 250 watt light bulb and a 220 watt light bulb.

Thus far I have had varied reactions:

* One small child ran up to me at the mall and asked me if she could have fries with her shake.

* Making the mistake of wearing a bright yellow jean jacket, someone remarked that if I wore green pants, I could stand in the middle of an intersection and direct traffic just by pointing to my head, torso, or legs.

* A customer today flat out told me he did not like my hair. If only I had known that today was 'sharing day' I would have shared with him my ability to my fluent in three or more languages: mange merde, mangiare la merda, and Essen Sie Scheiße.

My philosophy of Life is Attitude can be somewhat amended to Life is Perspective; Bruno pointed out that I should just be happy that I do in fact have hair.

Easy for him to say: When he wears a white t-shirt no one mistakes him for the flag of Japan.

A SLICE...................

Can I Reslice That?.................(later on February 22)

Just thinking that my previous 'slice' is really quite sexist.....I haven't ever really wondered or whined about the price of any previous male finance minister shoes............not really fair is it????

A SLICE...................

Hey Carole...Try walking in MY shoes.....(February 22)

When finance minister Carole Taylor delivers a budget in a pair of shoes from Payless instead of her $249 Fluevog's that she deemed were fiscally responsible (compared to her $600 Gucci's she wore last budget round) then and only THEN will I be in the mood to take her or her budget seriously.

A SLICE...................

February 13 (One of these is NOT like the other......)

What I failed to notice today until after I had:

--Worked for most of the day

--Shopped and spoke to various sales people at various shops in the mall

--Shopped at Safeway

--Worked out at Curves

--Had dinner with my family

...that I was wearing two completely different earrings. Not tiny little studs that could have possible been obscured by my hair but two long dangly ones that slapped my face if I moved my head too quickly. They weren't even the same colour. Or shape. Or style. This was even more noticeable than when I wore my workout pants inside-out to Curves. Which was the same day I also wore my t-shirt backwards. The one with the pocket.

....and here I thought the 'looks' people were giving me were because I was having an especially good hair day. *SIGH*

Is that a green M & M in the corner under the couch behind the pillow?

There is a lot of talk about the differences between men and women. Living with four males, I have observed that one of the biggest differences is the male inability to 'locate' things. Keys, wallets, socks, jackets, mp3 players, mail, etc. This is never more obvious that when the refrigerator is concerned.

"Mom, where's the milk?"

"Try looking in the fridge."

(male body now scrutinizing contents of fridge) "I don't see it.'"

"It's the large jug front and centre. Beside the 3lb. jar of peanut butter."*

"Oh, nice place to put it." (said sarcastically with lots of eye-rolling)

I have had grapes (a favorite fruit by all four males) turn unappetizingly wrinkled because not one of them thought, god forbid, to pull out the crisper drawer to look and see what it contained. Once I asked one of them to put the coffee on but they were unable to find the coffee container in the fridge. Never mind it is the exact same container we have been using for years, and never mind that they have probably moved it hundreds of times to reach the cream for their coffee, it did not come equipped with a flashing neon light and a preprogrammed voice saying, "Pick me! Pick me! For I am the coffee." (We ended up having tea. ---Apparently the tea bags were more readily accessible but I think it had more to do with ease of operation: no need for a filter, no measuring water, no scooping out coffee and counting spoonfuls.)

And while the refrigerator illustrates this male phenomenon very clearly, sadly it is not confined to this area alone.

"Where's today's paper?"

"Have you tried looking on the coffee table?'"

"The coffee table??? What's it doing there????"

OR

"Where's the egg beater?"

"Did you try looking in the bathroom cabinet?"

"Why would it be there? Shouldn't it be in the kitchen cupboard?"

"Bingo." (said in a tone of voice tinged with exasperation and thinly veiled sarcasm)

However there does exist an interesting feature of the males inability to find the seemingly obvious. They seem to flourish at locating items that only a team of CSI experts should be able to discover. A bag of potato chips hidden under two rarely used blankets tucked away in a cupboard in the laundry room. A package of M&M's squirreled away in the basement behind a 22 lb. bag of flour. Not only are these items often discovered within hours of being covertly placed, but they are consumed within minutes.

This trait, or more accurately described, quirk, was very evident today in my household:-
..Last night I went to bed with the fridge crammed full of leftovers after a big family birthday dinner. I put the left over lemon-roll cake** in the very back of the fridge behind numerous containers that completely obscured it from sight. Completely. This morning when I opened the fridge for the milk, what do you think was the first thing that I saw? The lemon-roll cake front and centre with several slices missing.

It becomes even more interesting. Rachael, one of the dinner guests, brought a lovely bag of chocolate-covered espresso beans*** to enjoy with our coffee. Knowing that one member of this family is unable to control themselves around chocolate, (not mentioning any names but he's the youngest of three) I placed the dish of remaining beans on a chair in the dining room. I figured since the dining room is not a regular family 'hang out' and since they were out of view....the tablecloth obscured them..... they would be safe. Apparently not. I overheard Corey tell the others exactly where they were within a few hours of getting home from school. This from the same child who cannot locate the closet to hang up his jacket. Even when he is hunting inside of for said hidden chocolates.

Another interesting (read freaking annoying) observation I have noted is that none of them (save Bruno..my hero!) can locate the dishwasher to place their dirty dishes inside. Apparently that is the purpose of the kitchen sink. Who knew? But they are able to detect a lone can of unopened pop in the garden shed behind the tulip bulbs.

It is all quite fascinating. Or frustrating. Some might even say quite maddening. I think it must be related to the males reluctance to pull into gas stations to ask for direction when lost.****

Next week: Men and their intense attachment to the tv remote. Healthy or unhealthy? Or just plain weird?

*Yes, we have the Costco-sized peanut butter jar in our fridge. This occurred after a tense expletive filled 'discussion' once with Bruno regarding the exact location of the peanut butter in the fridge and an even tenser one regarding the lack of organization in the fridge which apparently falls under my domain. I resolved the situation by buying the largest tallest roundest jar of peanut butter available. Disorganized? My ass.

**If you like lemon, and I am talking about that fresh real lemon taste, this recipe is for you. It is a lovely lemon cake with an even lovelier lemon filling (quite tart) and then rolled up jelly roll style. You can email for the recipe if so desired.

***Chocolate-covered espresso beans! Get out! Even better than chocolate-covered pomegranate seeds. (Refer to post February 6, Ch-ch-ch-chia!)

***This is the real reason GPS was invented. You know it's true.

A SLICE...................

February 2008 (..And now from 49th and Cambie.....)

My Mom just told me that my Dad listens to radio 7:30.* At home.

*Radio 7:30---All Traffic All The Time, the first and only radio station completely dedicated to traffic.

"Ch-ch-ch-chia!"

Okay, so I'm at Curves, hoping no one will notice that I'm covertly stuffing chocolate-covered pomegranate seeds in my mouth that happened to be in my pocket, when I become aware that everyone is enthusiastically discussing the merits of Chia seeds. Chia seeds. Yes, the kind you are thinking about. Lame commercial; silly figurine, green hair......that's the one. Apparently they are better than chocolate, sex, vacations and that first cup of coffee of the day. Chia is the richest plant source of omega-3 fatty acids and contains natural antioxidants and several other health benefits. There was also something about c-reative proteins but one of my chocolate pomegranate seeds rolled under the leg press and I missed the details while retrieving it.

One lady said she actually had to decrease her dosage because she was experiencing too much energy. Sheesh, and I could have generously presented her with my very own to-d0-list to help her neutralize all that energy.

So now I am left wondering about what to do with the 6yr.old 3 lb. bag of oatbran, the 7 lb. of flax seed, the canister of 2.5 lbs of kamut flour, and the 3 lbs of spelt berries in my pantry. These too were once the new magic panaceas guaranteed to improve your life in every way except for providing regular in-house vacuuming. The only thing that improved were the bank accounts of the vendors selling the products. But my fellow Curve members were persistent in lauding the merits of chia seeds and sharing the many positive effect they have experienced since including these seeds as part of their daily diet.

None of us chai seed virgins had the guts to tell the Chiachetta's that their scalps were green and little tendrils seemed to be peeking out of the ears and nose. Is this is what is meant by 'going green?'