Their apartment is situated just across from my office at school - at the top floor of what I assume to be a three story walk up.
The very kind in which Husband and I lived in the early days.
Each day, I see one or both of the in their bathroom slippers and robes for frequent ciggy breaks on their balcony, to the railing of which is tied a plastic owl. They must be having problems with interlopers of one kind or another.
It is the middle of the day, during a space of a couple of weeks. Could it be that they work the night shift? Their faces are young but worn. Her hair is recently cut and colored and her nails painted a dark red, and yet she stands hard in her robe, sweeping the balcony of any dirt as she smokes the first of today's cigarettes. The broom remains at the ready throughout the day, propped in the corner of the railing.
They have a bucket for the butts, and neatly tuck them in, their hair trendy and their tv, and its endless talk shows, is almost big enough for me to read the subtitles.
They are watching Judge Judy.
He is pacing again - he's always pacing - now in a jacket and slippers, dressed but for the slippers.
What do they do, in their apartment all day? What has prematurely aged them so? Their faces grey, lined and unsmiling as they pace with a cigarette.
What keeps them trapped so, with only their balcony as an escape?
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Special K
See, with the return to school, I've thought that maybe, just maybe, it would be considered rude to be eating my breakfast (cooked oatmeal) in front of the instructor on one-on-one training and conjugating with my mouth full.
Since mornings are so tough here at the Casa Valentine time-wise, (seriously, I'm late every, every, every day.) I figured I'd give Special K a shot, I mean, there's 1.25 cups in a serving, it's dump in the bowl and chew, and two points is two points, right?
HA. From what I can tell, the Special K Challenge is not to lurch so much when you're wandering the halls looking for foooood, tasty fooooood so as not to alert your prey.
Stupid Special K. Stupid Christmas weight.
Lovely, lovely microwaved rolled oats. Thanks for taking me back. I'll never, never leave you again.
Since mornings are so tough here at the Casa Valentine time-wise, (seriously, I'm late every, every, every day.) I figured I'd give Special K a shot, I mean, there's 1.25 cups in a serving, it's dump in the bowl and chew, and two points is two points, right?
HA. From what I can tell, the Special K Challenge is not to lurch so much when you're wandering the halls looking for foooood, tasty fooooood so as not to alert your prey.
Stupid Special K. Stupid Christmas weight.
Lovely, lovely microwaved rolled oats. Thanks for taking me back. I'll never, never leave you again.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
soooooooo
I may be back. I'll try not to write in French, but am feeling very pleased with myself for having written a long and rambling email en Francais to Mrs. Maiden. Take THAT traductrice!!
Heh.
So, for those of you who may not have guessed, I'm off to French training for 10 weeks. 10 weeks of one on one, private French training. I speak it for hours every day, with someone nodding and jotting notes of errors down as I babble on, listing tasks, and responsibilities and making up a Departmental mandate. You know, which seems to be to help Canadians. Ummm, throughout their lives. Especially training. And maybe when they're old, but also, when they're young too.
I'm gonna rock that exam.
In other news, the real estate market is so hot that several days ago, I came home to the following note, addressed to the Valentine Family, and written on yellow lined paper in red pen:
"Dear Valentine Family,
Hi,
My Name is Peter Fisher.
Doris and I would like to
$BUY$
Your House at
(my address here)
Please call us at
PH# (presumably, his phone number here)
Thanks,
Peter"
I know it seems strange, and kinda creepy, but I'm tempted to find out just how much Peter is willing to $PAY$ for the Casa Valentine....
Heh.
So, for those of you who may not have guessed, I'm off to French training for 10 weeks. 10 weeks of one on one, private French training. I speak it for hours every day, with someone nodding and jotting notes of errors down as I babble on, listing tasks, and responsibilities and making up a Departmental mandate. You know, which seems to be to help Canadians. Ummm, throughout their lives. Especially training. And maybe when they're old, but also, when they're young too.
I'm gonna rock that exam.
In other news, the real estate market is so hot that several days ago, I came home to the following note, addressed to the Valentine Family, and written on yellow lined paper in red pen:
"Dear Valentine Family,
Hi,
My Name is Peter Fisher.
Doris and I would like to
$BUY$
Your House at
(my address here)
Please call us at
PH# (presumably, his phone number here)
Thanks,
Peter"
I know it seems strange, and kinda creepy, but I'm tempted to find out just how much Peter is willing to $PAY$ for the Casa Valentine....
Monday, January 4, 2010
Wow.
Well.
That was a hell of a couple of weeks!! Whew. I'd like to thank Janey for encouraging me to train for the half - I think that the work definitely paid off in the endurance sport that is preparing for Christmas.
Am I the only one that feels that way? Sometimes I think that if I were a better mom and wife, I'd get all the baking done (no scorching), presents bought and wrapped, house cleaned, work done, sexiness fulfilled, and all of the other stuff and still feel all Christmassy and what-not.
Which is not to say that well, aside from the the heavily browned short breads (danged oven) I didn't get most of that list accomplished, but three guesses as to what was left off?
I was rereading this year, thinking of the year in review, and was struck by how much things stay the same.
January: complaining about lack of food and sleep. Hah. Just wait for this January's update.
February: A compilation of conversations, including how Husband and I stayed up all night bailing a flooding window well to avoid a basement flood. Awesome. Gruelling.
March: MlleL and the great Pony Rodeo. Hee.
April: Signed up for the 10k, and talked about dating - in general, not in my immediate experience, y'all.
May: I complained about lack of boobs and concentration. And how hard it is to run. Ran a 10k.
June: What it's like to shop like a mom. And may have signed up for a half marathon.
July: Time management issues, a sinus infection, and more about how hard it is to run. Oh. And KISS live. Still, awesome.
August: Family vacation. 20th reunion. Figuring out where home really was.
September: More complaining about what bras do to me. Ran a half-marathon. Turned 38.
October: MasterP turned 2.
November: American Thanksgiving. More lists.
December: yet again, complaining about boobs.
How do you read this?
This year, I shall endeavor not to complain about boobs or bras quite so much. Maybe I'll post more often.
If the last couple of weeks are any indication, though, I'll probably do some complaining about lack of food and sleep, how hard it is to run, and well, maybe some lists thrown in for good measure.
Nothing if not consistent.
That was a hell of a couple of weeks!! Whew. I'd like to thank Janey for encouraging me to train for the half - I think that the work definitely paid off in the endurance sport that is preparing for Christmas.
Am I the only one that feels that way? Sometimes I think that if I were a better mom and wife, I'd get all the baking done (no scorching), presents bought and wrapped, house cleaned, work done, sexiness fulfilled, and all of the other stuff and still feel all Christmassy and what-not.
Which is not to say that well, aside from the the heavily browned short breads (danged oven) I didn't get most of that list accomplished, but three guesses as to what was left off?
I was rereading this year, thinking of the year in review, and was struck by how much things stay the same.
January: complaining about lack of food and sleep. Hah. Just wait for this January's update.
February: A compilation of conversations, including how Husband and I stayed up all night bailing a flooding window well to avoid a basement flood. Awesome. Gruelling.
March: MlleL and the great Pony Rodeo. Hee.
April: Signed up for the 10k, and talked about dating - in general, not in my immediate experience, y'all.
May: I complained about lack of boobs and concentration. And how hard it is to run. Ran a 10k.
June: What it's like to shop like a mom. And may have signed up for a half marathon.
July: Time management issues, a sinus infection, and more about how hard it is to run. Oh. And KISS live. Still, awesome.
August: Family vacation. 20th reunion. Figuring out where home really was.
September: More complaining about what bras do to me. Ran a half-marathon. Turned 38.
October: MasterP turned 2.
November: American Thanksgiving. More lists.
December: yet again, complaining about boobs.
How do you read this?
This year, I shall endeavor not to complain about boobs or bras quite so much. Maybe I'll post more often.
If the last couple of weeks are any indication, though, I'll probably do some complaining about lack of food and sleep, how hard it is to run, and well, maybe some lists thrown in for good measure.
Nothing if not consistent.
Monday, December 14, 2009
Sad for us all
There are several truths about me. One is the fact that a bra is generally one of the first things I put on. Always. Ok, well, pretty much always.
This past weekend, just after I had showered before heading out to Brother In Law's 40th birthday party, and in the midst of dressing myself, not yet successful in the search for clean supportive garments, I was accosted by the outfit sported by MlleL.
"Wow", I said. "Goodness... That's......" Well, it was polka dots. That's what it was. Leggings and a tunic, all in different dots. "Let me see what I can do to find some other leggings."
"They're all in the wash." She said, "These are the ones I could find."
"Uhh," I said, as I dug around looking in the laundry (clean) basket. "How about.... Well.... I see what you mean."
"Mama," she said, clearly distracted and gesticulating towards my naked torso "why do they look so, um, soft? They look like they're lying down and taking a nap."
Right. Aaaand, back to the hunt for a bra.
This past weekend, just after I had showered before heading out to Brother In Law's 40th birthday party, and in the midst of dressing myself, not yet successful in the search for clean supportive garments, I was accosted by the outfit sported by MlleL.
"Wow", I said. "Goodness... That's......" Well, it was polka dots. That's what it was. Leggings and a tunic, all in different dots. "Let me see what I can do to find some other leggings."
"They're all in the wash." She said, "These are the ones I could find."
"Uhh," I said, as I dug around looking in the laundry (clean) basket. "How about.... Well.... I see what you mean."
"Mama," she said, clearly distracted and gesticulating towards my naked torso "why do they look so, um, soft? They look like they're lying down and taking a nap."
Right. Aaaand, back to the hunt for a bra.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Ch ch ch changes
So you know that picture of Snoopy?
The one where he's wailing, with his head back and mouth wide open, and tears showering all around him?
That's what I look like, only without the floppy ears and generally more blotchy. Ok, and maybe better hair, because I got it cut yesterday to make myself feel better.
What has brought this on?
A space becoming available at MlleL's care provider. Care Provider B, to be exact, a space that fits, exactly, the dimensions of one very busy two-year old boy. A two-year old who wants very badly, very badly indeed to be with his big sister. Who despite the fact that he's not terribly verbal, has enough words to make that abundantly clear.
So we won't have to negotiate the two drop off points and two pick up points much longer. We won't have to worry about coordinating coverage for two different care providers' scheduled (or unscheduled) holidays and doctor's appointments, but we are leaving our beloved behind.
And it's like breaking up with someone you still love because you know in the long run, it's better for everyone. It's just like that. Someone you've been with for almost four years. And it sucks.
All of it. Every last bit of it. Right down to my toes, it sucks.
The one where he's wailing, with his head back and mouth wide open, and tears showering all around him?
That's what I look like, only without the floppy ears and generally more blotchy. Ok, and maybe better hair, because I got it cut yesterday to make myself feel better.
What has brought this on?
A space becoming available at MlleL's care provider. Care Provider B, to be exact, a space that fits, exactly, the dimensions of one very busy two-year old boy. A two-year old who wants very badly, very badly indeed to be with his big sister. Who despite the fact that he's not terribly verbal, has enough words to make that abundantly clear.
So we won't have to negotiate the two drop off points and two pick up points much longer. We won't have to worry about coordinating coverage for two different care providers' scheduled (or unscheduled) holidays and doctor's appointments, but we are leaving our beloved behind.
And it's like breaking up with someone you still love because you know in the long run, it's better for everyone. It's just like that. Someone you've been with for almost four years. And it sucks.
All of it. Every last bit of it. Right down to my toes, it sucks.
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Mom crushing
Seriously.
How awesome is this site? I want to send so many pictures here.
Mindy - Remember the University grad shot Mr. Maiden took? How about the one with her in the blue bikini, pigtails, and us crawling around on the rocks like little hermit crabs? Or how about the one she hides each time the Viking or Husband come for a visit (and I love that she hangs it on the wall!!)?
http://momstyleicons.blogspot.com/
How awesome is this site? I want to send so many pictures here.
Mindy - Remember the University grad shot Mr. Maiden took? How about the one with her in the blue bikini, pigtails, and us crawling around on the rocks like little hermit crabs? Or how about the one she hides each time the Viking or Husband come for a visit (and I love that she hangs it on the wall!!)?
http://momstyleicons.blogspot.com/
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