My shoe is back!

When I dropped off my shoe, I asked how long it would take to get fixed. The answer was two weeks - it would be sent out the next Thursday and back the following Thursday. (The store that came through for me was The Shoe Company, by the way.)

That ended up being accurate - they called yesterday and said it was ready for pickup.

It's great to have those shoes back, although after wearing a different pair for 2 weeks, they feel loose. I'm sure I'll adjust.

Now if only my runners didn't need replacing ....

How the Girl Guides Won the War

I spent much of this weekend (outside of boxing and the Easter Vigil and making croissants and hosting Easter dinner) reading How the Girl Guides Won the War.

It talks about the Girl Guide movement in the context of World War II, when girls used the skills they'd learned in Guides to raise money for the war effort, provide first aid, and help refugees. It talks about girls who went to an international conference, not knowing whether war would break out before they got back. (I can't imagine what that permission slip looked like.)

I've mentioned before that I'm a leader with Sparks, which is the branch of Girl Guides of Canada for 5 & 6 year olds.

We don't pull people out of bombed houses or guide people through the sewers to avoid the Nazis. In fact, if you asked me what we do at Sparks, I'd probably say something like "games, songs, and crafts".

It's true. That's what we do at Sparks.

We also learn how to put on bandaids. My girls know that if you're building a fire, you start with the small sticks and put the big logs on the outside. If there is a fire, you get outside through whatever door is closest and run to the basketball hoop. In an earthquake, you hide under a solid table.

The Spark promise is "I promise to share and be a friend", so we collect money every week for Girl Guides around the world. It's used when there are earthquakes and floods. It's used to build wells. It brings girls to Canada and sends girls from Canada around the world. We talk about what it's like to live in other places - what is the same, what is different.

At camp in June, we'll talk about fire safety as we cook our lunch over the campfire. We'll make pizza dough from scratch for supper. We'll go on treasure hunts and hikes and talk about what to do if you're lost in the woods. They'll ask what will happen if we see a bear.

We won't see a bear.

It's not about saving people from life and death situations. It's about keeping your eyes open and being prepared.

That hasn't changed.

Yup, still talking about shoes

Friday I wore heels to work.

It's not like I had a lot of choice - after all, my go-to shoes were broken. I guess I could have worn sneakers or crocks, but I went with heels.

It turns out I've hurt myself far too many times to wear heels all day. (Saturday I wore crocs.)

Friday night I went back to the store where I'd bought the shoes and said, "I bought these in the fall. I realize that's outside of your return period, but these are clearly defective and I'm hoping there's something you can do."

If they'd said there was nothing they could do, I would have gone home and approached the manufacturer. I didn't need to - they took the shoe and sent it away to have the soul re-glued.

Now, it's not back yet, so it could still be a problem, but I'm cautiously optimistic.

(And I bought another pair of shoes on Saturday.)

My feet are revolting

A few years ago, I bought a pack of 6 pairs of gym socks. I don't remember how many years ago it was, but it has to be at least 3 or four. They were short socks that didn't go up much past my ankles.

Last year, those socks started springing holes, so I bought another pack of the same socks.

The new socks made it obvious how ... deformed the original socks were getting. Somehow, the ones that didn't get holes got bigger.

A lot bigger.

Today I put on a pair of them and the heel was high enough that it didn't fit in my shoe. I feel weird throwing out perfectly good socks, but it's getting a little ridiculous.

My runners are two years old (which is almost unheard of, since I usually need new ones every year) and are still OK. I'm sure I will have to replace them soon, but I haven't gotten there yet.

On the other hand, last fall I bought a pair of black shoes. I loved them. They quickly became my default pair of shoes.

Of course, then it was winter, so I didn't wear them much. I started wearing them again a few weeks ago.

Today the sole started to come off.

So ... do I take them back to the store or contact the manufacturer? They're obviously used, but I would expect a pair of shoes to last longer than 6 months.

Thoughts?

I've mentioned before that I'm a contractor in my current job. I was originally there for six months, then two, then two, then two again.

I've been watching the Ottawa job postings - not terribly regularly, but I have been keeping my eyes open.

More accurately, I let Peter's New Jobs e-mails pile up in my inbox for a couple of weeks, then read them all at once and open tabs for the relevant jobs.

That's where the system falls apart. After about a week, I give up and close the browser, usually without actually applying for the jobs.

It's so hard to look for a job when you have a job.

Anyway, last month my contract was extended until September. I immediately made a resolution - not to even think about applying for a job unless it looked like a perfect fit.

I then proceeded to ignore the e-mails for 2.5 weeks. (Some things never change.)

Tonight I went through them and found one job that looks worth applying for. It's open in my browser as we speak.

No, I haven't applied for it. Some things never change.

Another conversation with my niece

B: ROAR!!!
Me: Ah!
B: I know you're not really scared. I read your blog.

Why yes, I have pretty much given up on titles

So the whole veggie experiment is over.

It took a long time, but I eventually started remembering that I was trying to eat more vegetables.

The big winner was salad - it turns out I like salad more than I like cleaning vegetables. The key ingredient is tomatoes.

(This is not a shock - 75% of my diet is tomatoes in August.)

The other big discovery - fried onions (found in the crouton section of your grocery store). Very tasty. (Not healthy, but tasty.)

We're four days into April and I'm still pretty consistent with the veggies, so that's good. Plus, I still have fried onions. Can't let those go to waste.

Yesterday at boxing we were doing two head-body-head combinations. The first one was fake the jab, right to the body, hook to the head. The second one was fake the right, hook to the body, uppercut.

My coach is a former olympic boxer, and he asked if anyone had see The Fighter. Now, he's been talking about that movie since it came out, but I hadn't seen it yet. Anyway, in the movie, they use head-body-head a lot, and he started talking about how he used to do that when he fought, and "if you break the ribs, you can hit them however you want".

You know how someone lights up when talking about something they really love?

Anyway, today I went to see The Fighter. It's about a boxer named Micky Ward, and it's based on a true story.

If you're intending to see the movie and you don't want to know anything that happens, now would be a good time to stop reading.

At one point, one of Micky's opponents is being asked who he would like to fight. His answer is Gatti, and I was proud that I had heard of Gatti before. His poster is in the gym - you know, the Gatti vs. Ward poster ... oh.

Apparently, I'd heard of Micky Ward before, too.

I've been writing a lot of blog posts lately, but they haven't made it out of my head and onto the computer.

I've had a horrible cough for a couple of weeks, and I went to the doctor on Monday morning. The appointment was made before I got the cough, but the subject of the cough did come up.

(To be clear, this cough sounds horrible, but isn't contagious.)

I got the proper medication, and the cough was getting better.

You see, I apparently have mild asthma, which tends to get worse when I exercise.

This annoys me. (Nothing is allowed to interfere with boxing, you know.) Anyway, since my problem is mostly with exercise, my doctor changed one of my inhalers. I picked it up on Monday, and the pharmacist explained how to use it and explained that it can result in a little coughing.

Tuesdays I don't usually go to the gym, so today was my first chance to use it.

I used the inhaler, and after a few minutes all was well. I got on the bike.

About ten minutes later, I started coughing.

And coughing.

And coughing.

People started looking at me in concern - not for me so much as concern that they might get whatever I had.

And I coughed.

Eventually I finished my workout and left (still coughing). It's four hours later and I still feel more congested than I did before I went to the gym.

Apparently, when a pharmacist warns you there might be a little coughing, you should believe her.

Ides of March Update

Wanda's wallet has been found.

Someone found it and got one of his employees to track her down. I picked it up at lunch today.

Apparently, it was hard to find her because there's nothing in the wallet with her address & phone number. Of course, if her wallet had had her driver's license in it, it would have been easier.

It's intact, although she said some bus tickets were missing. (The cash was still there.)

Beware the Ides of March

Wikipedia tells me that the ides was a day in the Roman calendar that marked the approximate middle of the month. (Good thing it's approximate, because the middle of March is the 16th). Personally, April 15th has been a worse day for me than March 15, but it doesn't have a catchy saying.

I started the day as usual - shower & breakfast-while-checking-twitter - and was still eating when Wanda got home from the gym.

She was having a bad day.

She had been in a (minor) car accident on the way home. She stopped (of course) to exchange insurance information. After they had done that, she pulled into a parking lot to put her driver's license away, and couldn't find her wallet.

She walked back to where they'd been - no wallet.

That's right, she'd worked until 6 a.m., went to the gym, got in a car accident, and lost her wallet. I hadn't even brushed my teeth yet.

She was pretty shaken, but had recovered somewhat by the time I went to work.

Before 9, she texted me - she'd also fallen down the stairs.

When I called her, I was literally laughing so hard I couldn't talk. Then she told me it was the ides of March.

She can't say she wasn't warned.

A handful of spinach counts as raw vegetables, right?

So the "eating raw vegetables every day" plan is still in effect ... if barely.

I have discovered that I don't mind spinach salads. I'm not a big fan of lettuce, but spinach is OK.

To be clear, if there's a salad bar, I'm there - it's just that my options are a lot more limited and thus boring at home.

Some days, working raw veggies into my diet is no problem at all. Other days, I completely forget until after I've already eaten.

Today would be one of those days - but a handful of spinach eaten directly from the fridge counts, so all is well.

Tomorrow night I will have to actually clean some additional veggies so that they're ready to go. That's half my problem.

Conversations with my niece

After my niece was born, she was in the hospital for a few days. On one of those days, she threw a temper tantrum. The nurse looked at my sister and said, "You're going to have fun with that one."


It didn't take long before she learned to communicate a little better, mastering the art of pointing.


Eventually, she learned that if she went and got her shoes and then went and got my shoes, we'd go for a walk. From there, it was a short step to leading us to the playground.

When she was first born, I called her "Squirmy" - for obvious reasons - but after her mom objected, I started calling her Monkey instead.


She insisted she was not a monkey.

Just before she turned two, we went out to the farm. There were a bunch of us in my mom's minivan, and we stopped for ice cream on the way back. My mom sat beside the monkey and fed her ice cream. I was in the front, and all I could hear was "num num num". I turned to my sister and said, "I think we have an ice cream monster."

It was quiet for a second, then I heard a very quiet "roar".

From then on, she'd roar at me on the phone. I, of course, had to say "Ah!".

Once I made the mistake of saying "Eek!", and was promptly told, "No, you not say eek. You say ah!"

When she was two, I was at my parents' house. We were eating fruit salad.
B: Auntie Colette, can I have your bananas?
Me: OK. *gives her my bananas*
B: Poppa, can I have your bananas?
Dad: OK.
B: Gramma, can I have your bananas?
Mom: OK.
B: Mommy, can I have your bananas?
K: OK.
B: (big grin) Only monkeys eat bananas.



Lying down to take a nap, B looks at her hand.
B: I can see my bones.
Me: Yup.
B: I don't like bones.
Me: Bones are important. They help you grow big and strong.
*silence for a minute, then*
Me: Why don't you like bones?
B: Because when the dog carries a bone in his mouth and then I carry it in my mouth, it's all stinky and slimy.



Me: "Hey, B, who's your favourite auntie?"
B: "Auntie Michelle and Auntie Camille and Auntie Wanda. Not you."

Today, she turns seven. (Seven! How did that happen?)

Happy birthday, monkey.

Love, your favourite auntie.

Wanda had a belly dance workshop this weekend. It was in a awkward spot to bus to, so she took the car.

That meant I was at home by myself.

It was one of my most productive weekends in recent memory. I made the quilt (above). I made barbie doll clothes for my friend's daughter. I made myself a flannel nightgown for my "nightwear that lives in the drawer while I wear the same pair of pajamas" collection. I sanded down the hole in the bathroom wall (but didn't get around to painting). I even cleaned the fridge.

There were a few things I didn't get to, one of which was cleaning vegetables. You see, I've decided on another challenge. Every day in March, I'm going to eat raw vegetables. I do eat vegetables normally, but they are usually cooked vegetables. It's time to stop being lazy get motivated and clean/eat raw veggies regularly.

Wish me luck ....

Thoughts while cleaning the fridge

1. Don't store a pickle jar on its side. Really. Don't do it.
2. Sure, it's an easy slide shelf for easier cleaning, but you must be able to remove it ... right? What if I ... how about ... never mind, I'll clean it while it's in the fridge.
3. What is that white stuff on top of the Italian dressing? It's not that old, it only expired in ... crap, 2009.
   
4. Is that strawberry jam left from a canoe trip in 2002? I think that's strawberry jam from that canoe trip in 2002.
   
5. Hmm. The vegetable crisper is dirtier than the fruit crisper. That can only be attributed to apples going bad, forcing more frequent cleaning of the fruit crisper.
6. Ew.
7. No one is ever going to drink that mango juice. *puts it back*
   
   

If my head weren't attached...

Back in November, I bought some fabric. I went to use it this weekend, and I have no idea where it is. I've looked everywhere (except wherever it actually is, of course).

Also back in November, I bought some badges for Sparks. They have also disappeared off the planet.

Every once in a while, I still look for the black sweater that I last saw in 2009.

This house is finite. How can things just disappear? I'm starting to think I'm the victim of a very specific burglar.

On the other hand, I have a collection of socks I never wear.

I could lose a few pig figurines and it would take months for me to notice.

I have light bulbs for a lamp that hasn't worked in over a year. Heck, I still have the lamp.

Why can't I lose that stuff?

Two weeks ago was "Team Week".

You see, most of my department is in Ottawa, but we have three colleagues in various places around the world. They all came to Ottawa for team week, and we spent the week in meetings sharing information and getting to know each other.

Unfortunately, one of my team mates had a cold. Because it was team week, she continued to come to work anyway.

Last Sunday, I woke up with a sore throat. As the day went on, I didn't get better, but I didn't get worse.

Monday morning was the same, so I packed my gym clothes and went to work.

I came home at noon, worked from home all afternoon, then fell asleep at 5.

I would have taken Tuesday off, but we had three people out of the office and three sick, so that wasn't really an option.

Again, I worked during the day and then fell asleep ridiculously early. Wednesday was the same.

Thursday was a bit better, and by Friday I was really feeling better.

I've never had a cold hit me so hard, so fast. I'm very glad it didn't last terribly long.

Since I'm now feeling better (and I did nothing constructive last week), it was a busy weekend. I got together with a friend yesterday. I finished my niece's birthday present. I did laundry (including things I don't wash every week, like the shower curtain). I started making a pinata for Sparks.

I even patched up the hole that has been in the bathroom wall since Thanksgiving.

There's only one thing I didn't do - register for boxing.

Looks like I'll be boxing on Saturdays again next session.

Hockey Day in Canada

Before Thursday night, I'd never heard of Hockey Day in Canada.

That's before my neighbour sent me an e-mail asking if I could help out.

You see, my local community centre was the rink for our ward, and a few volunteers had canceled on them. I agreed to help out.

As usual, I was helping out in the kitchen. The menu was simple - hamburgers, chili, hot dogs, and cold drinks. Rogers was there as well with hot chocolate, coffee, and TimBits.

Instead of serving food out of the kitchen, we had an area setup outside. Both rinks (one with boards, one without) were full of kids playing hockey.

The mayor was there for a while, as was our city councilor. Rogers filmed some of it, and CBC was scheduled to show up later.

It was a nice day, but as time went on it got colder. I was only there a couple of hours, but by the time I left I was pretty cold. Still, it looked like everyone was having a good time.

Things I've Learned From Boxing

1. Showing up is half the battle

No matter how tired I am, no matter how much I don't want to go, I always feel better by the time class is over.

2. Practice make perfect

I'm not good at skipping. I have hit myself with the rope hard enough to cause bruises. I have untied my shoe laces with the rope. I have gotten the rope tangled around the railing.

Skipping will never come easily for me.

But I'm a lot better than I was four years ago.

3. Learn the technique

Lately, my coach has been on my case, trying to get me to pay attention to how my legs are moving. You know what? It all becomes a lot easier when I listen.

4. Sometimes, you need another perspective

It amazes me how I can be hitting as fast as I can, as hard as I can, yet if the coach says something like "hit harder", I just ... do.

5. Make sure the lid is on your water bottle

There's nothing fun about dumping half a bottle of water down your shirt.

Now with more tentacle!

It never would have occurred to me to cook an octopus.

Never.

But, you see, I read this last week.

Still, I wasn't really intending to do it ... at first.

But it turned out that the grocery store had frozen octopus, so what could I do? (They didn't have couscous, but octopus was no problem.)

It thawed quite nicely in the fridge overnight.

And curled up nicely in the boiling water.

I left out the olives because I forgot to buy them and the fennel because I don't actually know what that is. Instead, I added mushrooms. Wanda doesn't actually like mushrooms, but I didn't really think that was going to be her biggest problem with this dish.

When it was ready, I popped it in the oven and watched half of a season of The Good Wife did very productive things.

Wanda had to gear herself up to eat it, but even she had to admit that it was good (once she picked out the tomatoes and mushrooms).

And today, for a change of pace, I made bread.

I need a bigger bowl.