Musings on a Small Life

Something woke us last night, not late, and I heard Derry growl beside me, then jump off the bed. Nicki joined him and they went to the hall, on alert. I lay in bed, straining to hear something, but couldn't, and finally got up to peek outside. Saw the mom and kids piling out of the grey truck next door. So my guess is that they were in Toronto for a few days, for whatever reason. Alas, things will return to "normal" now. I guess I ought to wish everyone a happy Halloween. I'm indifferent to it, frankly, and will be one of "those" people hiding in their house, lights off. Used to give out candy, but don't bother anymore. I'll be sure to remove Toby's house and food dishes from the front step, though, store them away for the night. I don't trust some of the sh*t kids in our area to leave them intact and undamaged. Oh, one of the bus drivers was in costume this morning: Dressed all in black from head to toe, complete with black wig...

In spite of dire warnings, so far Hurricane Sandy has been a non-event for us, at least in this little part of Ontario. High winds, yes, but nothing unprecedented, and almost no rain at all. I realize this hasn't been the case for others in the province, and of course not for millions of Beings along the U.S. east coast.  My thoughts and "prayers" are with everyone affected. There's something odd going on next door...or not going on. It's quiet . Abnormally (for them) quiet. I haven't heard the kids since late last week, or the mother for that matter. A different truck is in the driveway, not the husband's usual work truck, though I know they have three vehicles, so it could be his third one (work truck, car, and maybe this). Sunday evening I heard a muffled male voice speaking to someone, but that's been it. I can't imagine those kids being quiet if they were home--unless they and the mother have been drugged into submission. They do have...

To the young woman on route #7 at 11AM, heading home today: Get yourself a pocket pack of Kleenex (facial tissue) and blow your damned nose. I get that you have a cold, but your snorting sounds just like a pig rooting for food in a feed trough, and no one else wants to listen to that. Thank you.

Just goes to show how sugar impacts my body: A few days of cutting back to more reasonable levels (still too high) meant I had an awesome session on the rower when I got home (early) from work this afternoon. Broke my 20 minutes/100 calories record, so the new bar is set to 20 minutes/105 calories (total 25 minutes/130 calories). I know it's not much for those of you who are in shape/are athletes, but for me, well, trust me, it's noteworthy for this 30-pound overweight, flabby, cellulite-covered body.  :-) And while some parts of our country are getting their first snow of the upcoming winter season, we've been enjoying record-setting warm temps. Alas, the good weather ends tomorrow, as we settle into a week of chilly, rainy days. I predict long johns in my not-too-distant future. But I made it through the work week, though the five days felt like ten and I wished I had a mountain of chocolate to eat. Hair cut tomorrow, though I like how the back is coming ...

I'm falling asleep around 8PM these days, can't even keep my eyes open to keep reading in bed, something I love to do. And trying to get out of bed between 3:30AM and 4AM is sheer torture. I really have been slogging this week and last. Presumably partly because I've been eating way too much sugar, even for me, and my body just feels "blah," and partly, I think , because it's pitch dark out now, with sunrise not until after 7:30AM, well after I'm settled at my cubicle desk at the office. Trust me, it's hard to find the motivation to leave the house at 6AM, when your instincts are to go back to bed! Even my rowing has been hard, in spite of Monday's intense, but laborious session. Last evening I was as slow and easy as when I first started doing it back in mid-September. I got into a really awesome rhythm, mind you, but I wasn't exactly burning many calories. Anyone else having difficulty getting up and going these days? Hav...

It's hard slogging this week at work, and it's only Tuesday. And it's hard slogging on the rower, too, or was yesterday after work. Wanted to give up after 5 minutes, but managed to do my usual time and even match my best workout so far. Have no idea how I did that, because it really was laborious.  It's 1:16PM EDT and all I can think is that I want to go home and be with the boys. Who will drive me crazy when I am home. LOL. Anyway, I have a bunch of (technical term) miscellaneous snapshots, just for something to post, the first set being in the cemetery, on Thanksgiving weekend. The morning light and shadows were problematic, and I had only the little Elph with me.  Hard to make out all the headstones, but an entire clan seems to be interred here. I have no idea who's buried here, I just liked the ivy growing on the fence. A few snaps from yesterday on campus, while standing on our building's steps.  Beats me how to get ...

So I found out today why the McDonald's in WalMart charges me 93 cents for a small cup of coffee, whereas the downtown McDonald's I sometimes stop in before work charges me $1.25 for the same. They're giving me the senior's discount. Seriously. This morning... Me, to the clerk behind the counter: "How come I pay only $0.93 here and I pay $1.25 downtown?" The young girl replies that she doesn't want to say, because she doesn't want to insult me. Then she tells me anyway, that she's giving me the senior's discount. She says I look like I'm in my 40s, and trails off.... I admit to her that I'm in my late 40s. "What age qualifies for a senior's discount?" I ask, stunned that I qualify (sort of) for a senior's discount of any kind. Just how old do I look, anyway?! "Fifty," she says. Well, that means I must look like I'm in my fifties then, if she's giving me the freaking discount . By the...

Why, oh why does everything at work fall onto one's desk at once? Any "one." It's the same for us all. There's some unwritten universal law about this, feast or famine. I actually had to email the director of a government agency yesterday, about an annual data project we do (mostly me, because it goes up on our web site), and tell her that for the first time ever , I didn't think I could make her November deadline. (Keep in mind I'm just the flunky research/admin assistant, pretty low on the food chain.) There's just so much happening right now. I told her I was freaking out over the thought of a missed deadline, but that I just couldn't guarantee getting the project completed. (I've never missed a deadline that I can recall, am always early for appointments and meetings, etc.) As it turns out, another university can't meet that short deadline either, so she's going to extend it by a couple of weeks. That will help, at least a bit....

Don't eat rice over your (work) keyboard. That's it. Profound, isn't it?

I wonder if our ability to adapt to almost any circumstance in our lives always is such a good thing. I'm thinking not of anything in my life at this time, but of the neighbours, of course. They were here over the Thanksgiving weekend, sadly. It wasn't so much the boy this past weekend, though, but more the mother and father. No need to go into details, but I cringe at the thought of being called as a witness for the prosecution at some point in the future. Anyway, that made me think about how whatever we live, on a daily basis, becomes our "normal." We just adapt. But in abusive and/or toxic situations, whether they be marital, work, whatever, adapting and creating a new "normal" isn't a good thing, IMO. But we don't see that until we somehow have a life-changing "aha" moment and/or are out of the situation and past it. We're all living "la vida loca," aren't we? (I know my work week, even with the holi...

Since this is our Thanksgiving Monday, a holiday, I took a walk in my  usual spot, the cemetery, because it's close by and so pretty to wander through. And instead of staying on my usual route, I wandered around other paths, came across a few graves off by themselves and up on a small rise. From the top looking down The dominant grave stone on the hill is this one:  And was intrigued by the simple text, wondered who this might be. I just Googled his name, and found this: George Whalley was a scholar, poet, naval officer and secret intelligence agent during World War II, CBC broadcaster, musician, biographer, and translator. He was a leading expert on the writings of the poet and critic Samuel Taylor Coleridge. He served in the Royal Canadian Navy Volunteer Reserve 1940-56 and was on active duty in the Royal Navy 1940-45. During World War II, he served on warships, participated in the pursuit of the German battleship Bismarck , saved a life at sea (fo...

Gees, about an hour ago I looked out into the back to check on the boys, and there was Nicki on the step, eyes barely open, drool coming out of his mouth. My first split-second panicked thought, as I stepped outside, was seizure , my second poison . He wouldn't let me approach, rushed off into the garden. You know that feeling of fear/panic/dread/and did I mention panic that washes over you? I rushed back into the house, thoughts going a mile a minute. It's 3PM, call the vet, there's construction down the street, get the carrier, get Nicki, I'm going to have to ask them if I can pay them later, after I transfer $ over to the credit card from the line of credit, get a syringe and get some water into him....You know the drill. And in the minute or so that it took me to plug my laptop back in (I had been curled up on the couch with it), get a syringe and some water, and then get back out, Nicki was fine. I looked at him, and he was as calm as he usually is (ta...

I survived the 1.5 days of training, Monday and Tuesday. This was on the very cool new survey tool system our University has chosen.  Good news for me: The ITS person has removed my name and email from their survey web page and just listed our department and generic email address instead. Sure, it'll come to me anyway, but at least my name's not plastered all over their web page. * Our long Thanksgiving weekend is coming up, with Monday being the holiday. Yippee! I'll give quadruple thanks if the next door family packs up and goes to Toronto for the weekend, but I won't hold my breath. * Last night it was the mother who flipped out and had a screaming fit at the husband. I thought I heard her shouting at him not to threaten her--I've heard him threaten, quite calmly, to leave a few times before. I can guess it was something similar this time. Those two are going to implode one day. Or maybe explode. Or one of each. I hope they're long gone from our n...