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  • The minstrel boy to the war has gone

    Scribbled down on December 9th, 2010 by she
    Posted in Those Who Volunteered

    After two terribly short weeks at home, hubs has started his journey back to the sandbox. These next few days are always the worst for re-adjusting back to life as a military spouse with a deployed partner. Just when you get used to sharing your home and life with someone again, they have to go back to the mission. Tour breaks pass far too quickly.

    I will have to get used to bowing to the wishes of my feline and canine overlords once again. Having someone else to get up in the middle of the night to let the dogs out was kinda nice…

    And of course it’s snowing again. For the two weeks hubs was home the weather was nicer and it didn’t snow. The morning he left it began to snow. I spent a chunk of my day shoveling. I’m back to pretending that pushing snow around and lifting a shovel in minus gawd awful temperatures is exercise I enjoy.

    On the bright side the basement has been mostly fixed (post flood). I have a new floor and desk but we didn’t get around to putting up new baseboards in my office. I’m sure I’ll survive without them.

    All the light fixtures have been fixed and hubs wired new lights in the laundry room so it’s easier to see when doing laundry.

    New curtains have been hung in the bedroom and all that jazz.

    Too bad we forgot about fixing the weather stripping at the doors. Guess we need something to do once he comes home.

    Tonight I whine. Tomorrow I begin prepping for my exams. Think I’ll keep my phone off the hook until exams are over (late next week) so I can study uninterrupted.


    75 lbs

    Scribbled down on December 2nd, 2010 by she
    Posted in new leaf

    well, 77 lbs actually…

    A woman who works on the same floor as me, but who I see only a few times a month, asked me yesterday how much weight I’ve lost this year. I told her 75 lbs.  We exchanged pleasanties, I explained calorie counting to her and off we went our separate ways.

    It didn’t hit me until I was walking home from work that losing 75 lbs in 42 weeks is quite an amazing accomplishment. I still have another 10-13 lbs I’d like to lose to reach the mid-range of my healthy height/weight chart. I’m on track to reach that goal around Feb 2011.

    When I go clothes shopping, I still have troubles trying to determine my actual size. I often pick things off the rack that are many sizes too big. Sometimes I still look in the mirror and see a fat chic but I’m starting to see a skinnier version of me more often now. Now to keep her here…


    Warm feet

    Scribbled down on November 21st, 2010 by she
    Posted in Random Burbling

    I have freakishly small feet for an adult. My hands are also freakishly small but that’s a rant for another day.

    It’s winter in Edmonton. Which means snow, ice and (in my case) often frozen toes. I have to shovel snow shortly after it falls and I need to walk to and from bus and train stations. I have been in search of boots since just before the weather turned cold.

    I loathe shoe shopping. I’d rather poke my eyes out with hot irons than try to find a nice, comfortable, good looking pair of shoes.

    I’ve lived in northern climes all my life. Winter boot buying is an annual tradition for most Canadians. You’d think I’d be used to it by now. Or that I’d just wear the same boots year after year.

    Hey, that’s a fabulous idea. Why am I not doing that?

    Perhaps because I’ve lost a tonne of weight over the past year. When you lose weight things get smaller. Oddly enough, feet shrink.

    When I was fat my feet were so wide and chubby that I had to wear shoes a few sizes bigger (read: small adult sized) to accommodate them. Now that my feet have shrunk, I’m back to wearing children’s shoe sizes.

    Children’s shoes suck if you’re an adult. Because children’s feet grow so fast they’re not really designed to last. They are often not built well. Try finding a proper pair of running shoes (stability, motion control, etc.) in a child’s size and you’ll see what I mean…

    And they’re UGLY! What’s cute on a small child is not cute on a 30+ year old woman. I don’t need or want bows, ruffles, crystal designs, or bright colours on my shoes. I want classic dress shoes with a smallish heel or flats with decent cushioning.

    I also want the winning lottery ticket. I figure I have about the same chance of finding either in my possession anytime soon.

    But I need boots. It’s cold. There really isn’t a way to make it through winter without them. Shoe shopping has been on my agenda for days. I’ve spent far too many hours bouncing from store to store in search of boots this weekend.

    I’ve learned that many of the boots that do fit my feet are far too short to be useful. Most don’t come above my ankles while I really need boots that come to mid-calf or my knees. I’ve learned that the Bay closest to me doesn’t sell children’s shoes. I’ve learned that the Soft Moc in the same mall doesn’t carry anything smaller than a size 6. I’ve learned that the Shoe Warehouse sold out of my size (3) long before I got there and that Zellers had no boots in my size that looked appropriate for an adult to wear. Not this adult anyway.

    I’ve also learned that many higher end or specialty shoe stores are staffed with young employees more interested in socializing than in helping customers. Again, a rant for another day…

    When I went to Sears on Friday night their winter boot section was almost empty. Empty space after empty space on the shelves. What was left wasn’t in my size. I wandered back through Sears today and lucky for me, they’d restocked between Friday evening and mid-afternoon on Sunday.

    After days of searching, I’ve finally managed to score an awesome pair of just-below-the-knee Sorel boots. Big, giant, warm, clunky Sorels. They’re a different colour (black) than my winter coat (brown). There’s nothing fashionable about them but in the end they’ll do exactly what I need; they’ll keep my toes toasty warm.

    I am victorious!


    And in the going down of the sun

    Scribbled down on November 10th, 2010 by she
    Posted in Friends & Family, Those Who Volunteered

    For those who have served and fallen – both during their service or after retirement – take a moment to remember their sacrifice.

    Notice

    Great Grandpa

    Dad.jpg

    Black Watch
    Grandma and Grandpa Grandpa in the Pacific Grandpa

    CFB Borden


    Seasonal stress and taking a load off

    Scribbled down on November 3rd, 2010 by she
    Posted in Friends & Family, Random Burbling

    If the decorations in stores and prevalence of Christmas music over the airwaves are anything to go by, the holiday season is fast approaching.

    I, for one, am not happy about this. 

    Frequently when I blog I end up having to censor myself. Because if I wrote what I was really thinking I’d end up with a series of phone calls from friends and family all claiming to be hurt in some manner. Hell, even when my posts are self-censored I still get those calls. Whether or not my writings were associated with them in the first place is usually a moot point…

    This trend stresses me out to no end. I frequently feel that when the hubs isn’t home, I have no one that I can openly talk to who won’t judge me and who will at least attempt to see things from my point of view. Sometimes I blog in search of finding someone else who has experienced the same thing. A cyber replacement for hubs if you will. Or, at the very least, a feeling that I am not alone in the universe. Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that an extrovert has difficulty understanding the mind (and physiological responses to situations) of an introvert. And vice versa of course.

    The Christmas season is fast approaching and I’m stressed to no end. Today I’ve decided to skip the self-censorship and just write what I’m thinking. And if anyone calls to discuss or complain about anything in this post, I will hang up on you. Consider yourself warned.

    I’m not the biggest fan of the Christmas holiday season. I don’t like decorating. I don’t enjoy the music. I find those who claim to follow religion to be most hypocritical when it comes to “the true spirit of the season“. I’d rather skip the entire production. The only good thing about any holiday is the shared meal with my neighbours; the same communal meal that takes place on every major holiday or at random backyard BBQs. I enjoy our gatherings very much.

    A few years ago I made the conscious decision to stop giving gifts and instead give money to charity. For the past 2 years, I’ve asked my friends and family to do the same. Pick a charity. Any charity. Donate time, money or goods to them. Some people took me up on my challenge. Some enjoyed it. Others expressed their displeasure and disappointment and not getting gifts. Fine. You don’t have to like it. But I shouldn’t feel pressured into completely disregarding my own value system in order to make someone else happy.

    And yet, I do.

    Christmas isn’t even here and I’m already feeling sick, stressed, pressured, dismissed and disrespected. The chorus of orders rings in my head. “Do this. Do that. I expect this…” ARGH! 

    Why do I always have to be miserable just so someone else is happy? Why can’t I be the one that gets to be happy?

    Or, skip the happiness part of the equation. Why are my wishes and values so easy for others to dismiss as inconsequential? What makes the things important to me so easy for others to dismiss out of hand? Why don’t others experience qualms about demanding I bend to their wishes?

    If all your friends jumped off a bridge…

    This is my problem with Christmas. Or any other social gathering with expectations and customs attached. I’m extremely introverted. I’m socially awkward. And after 35 years of trying to be someone else – someone who fits in better with the extroverted mainstream – I’ve learned that I need to stop trying to please others and just be me. You don’t have to understand me. You just have to learn to take me as I am. Or not, as the case may be.

    Now if only I could learn to say “no“. Then I wouldn’t get myself into these stressful messes in the first place. Feeling bullied to do exactly what others want me to do so they can be happy.

    Maybe I should start here. I don’t want to exchange gifts. I don’t want to go to a party. I don’t want a tree in my home for the cat to climb or the dogs to pee on. I will not go to church and sit through sermons for a religion I find conflicts with my base value system. I might drink the egg nog.