Month: June 2012

The Daily EO: June 9th, 2012

I get nervous about lots of things.  I don’t like to make mistakes.  Which is funny because if you asked anyone – most think I am bold and brave.  I’m not really – it’s just bravado.

I couldn’t sleep last night worrying about our race the next day (Band On the Run – 5 km).  What if I don’t get enough sleep?  What if I can’t handle the hills?  This is a much harder race than the Chocolate Race. (we burned 300 calories just walking the race route)  What if I don’t hydrate enough?  What if I hydrate too much?  Should I run or walk up the hardest hill right at the beginning?  What if I can’t handle it?  What if it rains?  So I lay in bed, counting down how many hours of sleep I might get if I go to sleep right now.

But here I am the morning of, up, hydrated, eaten, and listening to my husband update his FaceBook about his “wife going to do great”.  Now he’s proclaimed it.  I’d better do it.

June 9th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  Being stupidly nervous about things that just get worse when you get nervous about them.  Don’t you think I know that?

The Daily EO: June 8th, 2012

Late one night I was driving home from a 12 hour shift from work to my house in Midland.  I was tired, but my pockets heavy with tips.  My trip was about 20 minutes and required me to travel on Highway 400 and Highway 12.  Highway 400 runs from Toronto to Parry Sound and has 4 lanes with exits with huge overpasses, etc.  Highway 12 is smaller with only 2 lanes and if you want off, you just turn.  I started our on Highway 400 at my usual 110 km/hour.

Shortly after departure, the car started making a weird noise – kind of like a grocery cart with a wonky wheel.   I slowed a bit, but other than the noise, all seemed okay.

I hate to contribute to the cliché of females being car ignorant, but unfortunately I must admit I am not particularly car knowledgable.  I own a 2007 Honda Fit with standard transmission – good on gas and fun to drive.  I am a pretty good driver, I like to drive and I like to drive fast.  Emile taught me the four strokes (intake, compression, um .. .  power, and exhaust) against my protests.  I know enough – keep it filled with gas, oil and wiper fluid; how to change a tire (thanks mom and Emile) and that when it starts making weird noises, listen.

I pulled over to the side of the road to examine the tires.  All four were fully inflated, no sticks in the wheel well, nothing looking out of the ordinary.  Hmmm.  Well, carry on then.  I called Emile to get him to listen to the noise over the cell phone.  Shockingly, he could not identify it.  He told me to come on home, but to drive a little more slowly.  By then I was on Highway 12, so I slowed and counted the minutes until I would get home.

Well, I should have pulled over.  I should have listened to my gut.  Because soon after the call, my front driver’s side wheel came off, leaving me to drive my car with only 3 wheels.  I am pretty proud of how well I drove that night to get the vehicle back under control and quickly to the side of the road.   Nobody was hurt, people stopped to help me and we even were able to find the seemingly perfect wheel in the tall grass.

You all know the rest of the story:  call home, call a tow truck, insurance claim, lengthy repairs, police investigation (as there was no physical reason that could be found as to why my wheel come off, they suspected mischief), etc.  I am thankful I had come of Highway 400, I had slowed down and that the wheel didn’t cause any injury to any other vehicle on the road.

Today I went for a run.  I tend to take my car to drive to a starting point because our street has lots of speedy traffic and limited shoulders.  I parked, hid my keys and headed out.  2 km out, 2 km back (record pace again!).  As I rounded the last bend, I noticed I’d left my lights on.  No matter, I can now run 4 km in 23 minutes.  Surely my battery can handle that.  No, apparently not.  I was a 3 minute walk from home, but what a pain.  Sigh.

I called Emile to confirm it was the battery (not the alternator, starter, etc) based on the noises when I turned the key (the guy really needs to get better at cell phone diagnosis).  He told me to turn everything off and let the battery rest.  Let the battery rest?  What kind of stupid advice is that?  Seriously man – the battery is just going to spontaneously re-energize?  Well, I guess I’ll call a friend for a boost.   Thanks a lot.  Honestly, like I’ll just sit here for 3 minutes and then miraculously turn the key and the car will start. . . Oh.  Well. . . look at that.

June 8th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  Batteries apparently need rest.  Emile’s advice is pretty sound.

The Daily EO: June 7th, 2012

I mentioned in May that I contacted a local paper to give a donation to a woman they had featured that was struggling making ends meet.  I purchased a $25 gift card from the grocery store and wrote her a personal note.  I awaiting the editor’s response so I could mail it to her.  I was feeling good – I had never done this before and I was hoping this woman might feel like someone actually cared in the community.  She mentioned in the article that she was unable to afford salmon and scallops and I thought perhaps she could have a little treat.

First off, I must tell you where my head was on Thursday morning – it was bucket deep in a pity party.  I awoke feeling tired and cranky and with little to accomplish that day.  I was bored, restless, unengaged, frustrated, pissy, and unappreciated.  I curled up with the cat and watched the last 4 episodes of the recent season of Grey’s Anatomy.  Hmmm.  I didn’t feel better (crushed under an airplane?).

Then I got an email from the editor of the paper.  Good News! – and I could carry out something positive this bleak day.  But the editor said the woman in the article agreed to the interview to get help for all seniors – not just for herself.   And so she had refused my offer.  So I guess before this woman will accept a small gift from me, I need to purchase gift cards for all the Muskoka seniors.  Either that, get elected as an MP and push through a private member’s bill to change all the caps on Canada Pension so no seniors will be struggling.  Then I could give this woman a $25 card.

Blah.  Crappy day.  Friday will be better.

June 7th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  I’m spending my gift certificate and I will pretend it was a gift from a well-meaning person of the community who actually cared about me.  Thank you, self.

The Daily EO: June 6th, 2012

Do you remember those diamond commercials by De Beers?  The ones with the shadow people and that music?  You the ones – you’d find tears on your face and hate yourself for being sucked into “A Diamond is Forever”.  I love that piece of music.  It is rich, dramatic, and exciting.  It is “Palladio” and composed by Karl Jenkins – a modern classicist (he’s actually still alive).  Until I wrote this post, I thought Beethoven wrote it.  If you are creating music in the 20th century that people think was written 300 years ago, I think you know how to fit in with the big guys.

So, imagine my curiosity when I found someone who remixed it way back in 2002.  Yes, Just like they do with Lady Gaga, Madonna, LMFAO, etc, etc.  Someone remixed Palladio!  I listened to the clip and immediately downloaded and added it to my workout playlist.

I went for a run with my workout music on shuffle as always and at the 1.9 km mark on my run, that song started up. I was running on a generally straight patch, and I had just run up a bunch of slow twisty hills.  I was tired and really didn’t feel like running anymore.  But I felt like I was in a commercial – not for diamonds this time, but something that mattered.  Something bold.  Important.  Something bigger than just a girl running on the road.

I ran.

June 6th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  I cut 30 seconds off my regular min/km pace today.

Allegretto by Bond from their Album Shine

The Daily EO: June 5th, 2012

About 2 weeks ago, I purchased a package of peeled garlic.  I really couldn’t tell you why, other than it had one of those 50% off stickers on it because it was approaching it’s best before date.  I found it in the fridge drawer today and it was now past its due date.  You know what you do with food that is nearly bad – you make soup.  I vaguely remembered a recipe for garlic soup from Mastering the Art of French Cooking, but instead of following that recipe, I found two on the internet and combined those.  I’d like to point out now that these were legitimate sources.  One was from Epicurious.com (with almost 300 reviews, 91% would make again) and one was from Christopher Ranch – a garlic farm in California. (whom grew the garlic I was looking at).

How can you go wrong with roasted garlic, roasted onions, heavy cream and fresh thyme?  And essentially that is what the two recipes called for.  One had some potatoes, one said to leave some of the garlic raw and then boil it in the soup.  Both had thyme, both had broth, both had onions.  Most of the reviews said the soup only got better with time, so I planned to serve it for dinner the next day.

I coated the garlic in olive oil and then roasted it in the oven  And the aroma!  The house smelled so delightfully good.  And it only got better when I started frying the onions.   I threw it all into a soup pot with vegetable broth, salt, pepper and let it simmer.  Then with an immersion blender and a little milk (instead of cream), the tasting time was upon us.   Yummy, Yummy.

Tasting went like this:  Garlic. . .  Creamy. . . ouch garlic. …. punch of bitter in the throat. . . . ugggh.

Add Lemon Juice?

Uggh.

Add Maple Syrup?

Uggh.

June 5th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  How could the best ingredients in the world, smelling so good, taste so… bleeck?  I’m going to have to keep trying this.  Soup anyone?

 

 

The Daily EO: June 4th, 2012

We have a clothesline that runs across our backyard.  We don’t use it because well, first off the sun doesn’t hit it, and secondly it’s pretty high (I couldn’t hand the clothes without standing on something) and thirdly, I hang to dry anything I want to in our laundry room.  Nobody really wants to see your bloomers while they drive by either.

Our cat is scared of vacuums, brooms, his travel box, people touching his paws and “The Hand”.  The hand is some hand position that Emile used to play with him as a kitten.   He is not afraid of his reflection, strangers or  motor vehicles.  He was kept in an apartment for his formative years, and perhaps that is why he does not recognize cars as a frightening.  In fact, he sees the roadway as a terrific place to loll, roll and warm his body.  Who doesn’t love some nice warm pavement.  So, as much as he likes outside now, we can’t let him out unfettered because he thinks that brooms will hurt him and cars will not.  You can’t argue with a cat.

We have a leash for him – and I am sure his cat friends tease him – and we do use it to let him out to sniff the bushes and do cat chores.  However, he has figured out that clockwise is the opposite of counter-clockwise.  So, often, I’ll find him stuck in one place, timidly taking a step and getting the same resulting pull on his neck.

With our clothesline, Emile designed a neat contraption.  The end of the leash attaches to the line so Beavis can walk back and forth across the backyard increasing his mobility by about 5 times.  And he doesn’t get tangled up around poles anymore.  He strolls back and forth, sniffing this, sniffing that and coming to the door when he is ready let in. I undo the leash and he strolls in the house.   He doesn’t like the leash, but he likes being outside more.  So we compromise – and it’s been working for a couple of years.

When he wants in, he comes to the door and stands there until someone notices, undoes the leash and lets him in (after all, this is where is washroom is).  Today, he wanted out, so he frolicked in the grass for a while and then presented himself at the door.  I undid his leash so he could wander in the house and he made a break for it!

June 4th, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  Outsmarted by a cat.

The Daily EO: June 3rd, 2012

Many years ago when my husband and I were dating, I was making something using pine nuts.  Emile told me that he didn’t like pine nuts.  It’s not that I didn’t believe him, I was surprised.  Because during our courtship, he’d proven himself someone who enjoyed different foods and trying new things, but frequently stuck to the basics.  Meals were usually Meat/Veg/Pot affairs, fast food, quantity versus quality and generally totally different from my childhood and cooking style.   I asked him when he’d actually eaten pine nuts. He couldn’t remember, but he restated didn’t like them.  I put them in the salad anyways because I can’t fathom why anyone wouldn’t like them.  He could pick them out (after retrying them of course from his previous mythical tasting) and I liked them.

Turns out Emile loves pine nuts.  Not the price – because he is cheap.  Nor the caloric denseness – because he is focused on weight loss currently.  But they are now one of his favorite additions, because let’s face it, pine nuts are so so good.

I’ve had my things too.  I didn’t like bell peppers for years, and then one day I ordered a greek salad (not one of those that have lettuce – a real one) and decided to actually eat the peppers.  And you know what?  They were good.   (why someone who doesn’t like tomatoes, peppers, or olives would order a greek salad is a question I cannot answer – probably the promise of feta cheese).

Also, bananas.  Somewhere along the line, I decided I didn’t like them, or I had to be in a banana mood.  What the hell is a banana mood?  I don’t really even know myself anymore.  Now I know bananas are delicious – all the time.

I am always hoping that not liking tomatoes is a thing too, but from time to time I keep tasting that strange bitter fruit just to check.  And you know what?  I still hate the taste.  One day I will be able to enjoy a BLT.  One day.

When you are selling your house, you avoid doing messy things.  So, when someone invites you to dinner, you go.  Even if you don’t like the people very much.  But fortunately, in this case, we do like the people.  So, it wasn’t much suffering to keep our kitchen clean to eat free food with friends.  As I have previously blogged, I am a picky eater, so when people invite me for dinner, I try to eat what I get (exceptions:  fish and tomatoes and anything else that could be considered a side dish like olives).

This particular night we had barbequed pork loin, grilled bell peppers, broccoli, goat cheese and greens salad and a strawberry and rhubarb crisp.  Normally people look upon this menu and think “excellent” (well except the vegetarians/vegans, but . .)  I did too, with one exception.

Every year I hear people about go on and on about rhubarb season.  That and asparagus are the first spring products available here in Ontario.  People have these giant rhubarb patches and they are often trying to give it away, and there are those who happily take it all and bake every rhubarb item they can think of.  I do not like rhubarb.  I don’t like the grainy texture.  And the flavour.

But I was a guest in someone’s home, I hadn’t had desert in a while and they were serving it with good quality vanilla ice cream (you know, the one with the flecks of vanilla bean in it).  I decided that for courtesy’s sake and ice cream I would suffer through the rhubarb.

June 3rd, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  Why Rhubarb isn’t actually that bad.  Hmm.  In fact, it’s pretty darn good.  And with strawberries and ice cream and crumble topping, Holy Toledo!

The Daily EO: June 2nd, 2012

My landlords (and friends) are selling the house that we live in.  They are doing a private sale, so everything needs to be done by them including the listing and showings.  They were away this weekend, so I found myself doing two showings for the house.

Showing a house is a strange business.  It is like job interviewing.  You suddenly have to brag about how great everything is (or you are) and try to work in all these details on this wonderful life you lead in the house.  How you’re sorry to leave it.  How you wish life wasn’t forcing this difficult decision to sell and move.  My eyes always see details, so I struggle not to acknowledge scratches or dings or dents or crooked items, my personal failings, etc.

This place is the perfect house for new home owners that want move in ready, or someone who is looking to downsize to perhaps put some of their savings into RRSPs.  Is it perfect?  No, of course not, but it is an updated home with 6 acres and 2 car garage.  Just out-of-town for privacy but close enough to still be close.

Private sales used to be that old crotchety neighbour you that collects broken down cars in his front yard.  Years ago, he headed down to Home Hardware and purchased a”For Sale by Owner” plastic sign.  It hangs weathered outside barely readable beside the “Beware of Dog” and certainly uncalled.  And you’d tell funny stories about Old Man Birmingham and his house for sale.

Now private sales are booming.  And why?  Because if you are selling a $300,000 house in Canada, the usual commission rate is 6% (3% for buying realtor, 3% for selling realtor).  That is $18,000 commission out of your pocket.  Oh, and with the HST, it is $20, 340.  That is about 4-6 months take home income for the average person.  (Granted, if you shop around, you can probably find a cheaper commission.)  And even when you hire a realtor, you have to do the improvements, declutter, organization, and the constant cleaning yourself.

To sell a home privately – and you use a service – it costs as little as $500.  So, with some effort, that is potentially $19,000 in your pocket.  Holy Moly.  That’s a new car.  That’s 2 dream vacations.   That is 6 months earlier you can retire.  That’s a lot of buckwheat.  And you can choose to then drop the price of your home for a quicker sale because you have some margin.

I am not going to argue against the value of real estate agents as I have worked with several that were exceptionally helpful.  And I think there are certain times they really can help.  Say, if you are moving to a large centre and need someone to help direct the area you want to live in.  If you don’t have time to do the showings, etc yourself or you are selling a $1.4M cottage in another city.  Obviously you need people to help you with this.

June 2nd, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  Pinching my arm extremely tightly in the closet door during a showing and carrying on without even taking a pause. (SoB!!)   With any luck, it will develop into an abscess and can film it for YouTube.

 

The Daily EO: June 1st, 2012

Warning: Graphic. (and Pathetic)

I stayed up until 3:30 am on YouTube.  That is not something I have ever done.  Usually I get pretty bored pretty quick with all the videos.  It’s like a bad episode of America’s Funniest Home Videos that never ends.

But this was another story.  It all started with me snooping on Emile’s Facebook account.  I sometimes read his friend’s updates and see what they are going on about.  I am not on Facebook (and I take perverse pleasure in seeing their stock price fall after the IPO), because I don’t want to be found by the people I don’t want to be “friends” with.  Assuming they want to find me, of course.  And don’t get me started on the “Happy Birthday” thing.  Is that really sincere?  Could you really do anything less for them?  But anyways, sometimes it is nice to be peeking through the windows via Facebook.  And I don’t have to share any of my information.  Perfect.

Anyhoo.  One of Emile’s “friend’s” had watched a video on-line.  A video about something I didn’t think existed.  I was horrified, repulsed, and fascinated all at the same time.  Really?  People post these kinds of videos?

I don’t think I could ever be a doctor, well, at least one that has to cut and probe people.  I could probably be a psychologist (only 2 degrees to go), where the probing would take another path.  I do not like to watch surgery, of the cutting of people, or seeing devastating injuries – I just don’t have the stomach for it.   And on a somewhat related matter, I don’t think I could be butcher either.

So, I clicked, and watched.  And clicked and watched.  More and More and more.   Clinical settings, drunken idiots, and everything in between.  It was the proverbial car wreck that I couldn’t turn from.  There is something wrong with me.  I don’t want to admit it, but Emile said if I was going to stay up to until 3:30 am doing stupid stuff, I had to admit it to the world on the EO.  (which hardly seems fair because I made up this blog in the first place)

June 1st, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:  Cranky on June 2nd due to lack of sleep from watching Abscessed or Infected Sebaceous (Epidemoid) Cyst Draining videos.  I feel shame now.

 

 

The Daily EO: May 31st, 2012

This is the last time I have to write “May” – at least for another year.  My idea to purge my superstitious feelings about May is a good one, but I think that I will have to repeat and repeat many years over to truly eliminate my feelings about it.  But for a first effort, I am feeling that I did okay.

One of the Maintenance May items was continuing our work from Fit April.  And here are my results:

I am happy with the results – considering that I continued to enjoy life while eating right and exercising most of the time.  I am down 13 pounds since I started and I am happy with that.  But really pisses me off?  Emile’s results are what pisses me off:

Seriously?  He lost 30 pounds in 2 months.  No real hiccups – just a smooth transition.  Almost daily runs and some food denials, but nonetheless, he just dropped 30 pounds like it was nothing.  And if it was nothing, why didn’t he do it before?  Honestly, it seems unfair that men can fluctuate so easily.  He looks and feels great.  And if I don’t watch my back, he is going to overtake me – although he is going to start getting that gaunt look.  And both are just wrong.

We have a run next weekend that we are both hoping to again best our personal bests.  We’ll have to see.

 May 31st, 2012 Extra-Ordinary:   May in my rearview.