Pets and my peeves.

We have always owned pets - as a child there were dogs and cats that came and went, and perhaps because I was a child, they never seemed to be any trouble at all.  The difference was, I think, that we lived in South Africa where dogs lived outside most of the time.  They may have been allowed into the kitchen to sleep at night, but no further.  Cats never had to grow thick winter fur so shedding was never a major issue.  Windows were always open and dust and fur were quickly disposed of.   We called them 'braks' or pavement specials - no-one that we knew was really into specialized breeds with three-page ancestry links.  I am not sure how vets made lots of money as we certainly didn't have our pets rushed off every 6 months for annual shots, physicals, and vitamins.  Your dog had to be licenced, wear a collar, have an occasional rabies shot, and most of us were sane enough to have it 'fixed'; and after that it was up to the gods.

Now that we live in Canada we see an entirely different story unfolding: cats are declawed and barred from leaving the inside of their homes during their lifetime.  You are considered to be adventurous and a little risky if you let your cat out on a regular basis.   These Canadian felines seem to develop enough winter fur to fill a duvet for each family member each year.  There is food for kittens, for young cats, for old cats and outdoor cats, there is special food for preventing hairballs and urinary infections.  There are pellets for cleaning teeth, and delivering vitamins, and for pampering.  And all are pretty costly.  We have whole warehouse type stores filled to the brim with parphenalia and 'must haves' for your special family member.  There is even, would you believe, clothing and accoutrements to be had - matching pink shirts, skirts, hats and sequined bows and collars.  The vet bills are outrageous and the new in-thing of pet insurance is hardly a choice anymore.

What bugs me the most these days:  the clawmarks that have made a pincushion of my sofa and chairs; newel posts that have become convenient scratch posts, cleaning upchuck on my favourite rugs.  And my favourite job of all - scooping poop from the litter everyday - although that at least beats picking up the deposits left by your doggie in a little (hopefully) baggie and holding it in your hands like a prize possession until you can garbage it at home. 

We have recently had the interesting experience of a giant German Shepherd sharing our abode - so now it's not just the constant drizzle of white cat hair on carpets and stairs and beds, but great big hunks of dog hair resembling birds nests that deposit themselves all over - heaven forbid if you miss a week of vacuuming - you will be tripping over the tufts and kicking them around like soccer balls.  And as for the wet paw syndrome - constant mopping of muddy imprints on floors, and thirsty lapping of water from the water bowl results in a river of saliva-coated water spread in every direction for a radius of six feet.  And ah, just when you want to relax on the leather couch and watch some tv - you have to first scooch Fido up to make a space for yourself!

Oh the joys!  It's funny when I was a child I never thought of all these things - and I still love my animals, but....wish it wasn't such a tough job to run around after them.

The Renovation Drama

So we took the leap, closed our eyes, and decided to do another renovation.  It seems every house we live in needs a makeover at some point - some have been harder or more complicated than others.  The beauty of this one is that most of the work will be farmed out to contractors who do this sort of thing every day.  In the past, we have undertaken the gargantuan task ourselves and faced the uphill learning curves that each job presents.  This time round we are hoping for a smooth transition from past to present.

The reality is always somewhat different than the dream or the expectation though.  We started just after Christmas last year - spending the month of January packing up all paraphenalia and chotkes on the main floor and storing them whereever we could stuff them in the basement, with a spill over deposited in the garage.  In February, the crews started marching in: the first one created the most dust and debris jackhammering the ceramic tiles up from the entrance and kitchen. 

Dust inviegled its way into every crevice and cranny on all three floors of the house, the chipped tile flew all over, landing mostly down heating and a/c ducts.  Once that was through, the next legion attacked the carpets and then laid the new hardwood all over the main floor - what a difference it makes.  Then it was over to the carpenter who gave us a new staircase and finally, the painters who gave the house its first facelift in 10 years.  We now have an interior that has finally found the 21st century.  We are very happy with the outcome - it looks great and is much easier to keep clean. 

In a gargantuan undertaking, we had the swimming pool made smaller (it used to be of Olympic proportions) and more manageable – now we have more entertainment areas, and more garden.  The pool itself, being smaller, is easier to heat and keep clean, and we have a modern pool cover that doesn’t sag into a cesspool by the end of winter.   We added a gazebo so that we can lounge outside without being in the direct blaze of sun, and the pergola – covered in a beautiful wisteria - was enlarged off the family room.   A new outdoor lounge suite and dining set, with outdoor lights and a fountain nearby has rounded off the back garden nicely.  Et voila, we have our personal summer resort!

 We are really loving the house and living here is a pleasure - no more talk of selling and downsizing.  And I think we have just about done all the renovations we ever need to complete.

Christmas in Burlington 2010

What a difference a year makes - last year this time we were in Doha, Qatar, experiencing a 50 degree celsius Christmas in a foreign land.  It was at least on a Friday so we got to celebrate the day at least.  The Christmas tree was one foot tall on the dining room table and apart from some very bizarre and weird trees being sold in stores and the few malls allowed to decorate a Christmas tree - it certainly wasn't much of a Christmas.  And no family for the first time in our lives!

This year it is all about family - we will gather together with our girls and Andrew and spend Christmas day together, starting off in the early morning opening presents and then the big turkey dinner at lunch time, and then phone calls home to South Africa.  The decorations are up, there is music everywhere, the streets and homes around us have lit up the neighbourhood with bright, festive lights, and deer, snowmen and Santas on lawns (or really in the snow!).  We are making the traditional rounds to friends for coffee and greetings.  Gifts are bought and only the usual last minute wrapping to take place.  Can't wait!!!

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there;
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads;
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below,
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer,
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot;
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread;
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."

Promise and Potential

Here we are at the Labour Day long weekend.  First day of school is just days away, and for the first time in more years than I can remember, I will be joining the kids on their new school year journey.

It feels just like it did when I was a kid - the excitement of a brand new beginning and brand new books.  Shopping for new pencils, erasers, and pens and hoping for a new school satchel (backpack these days).  And for those of you who went to school in South Africa - the buying of new school uniforms and shoes.   Best of all, the promise of new horizons in a higher 'standard' (read 'grade' as it is now called).  I always loved the quest to conquer the information for that year, always curious about 'what next? ....except when it came to math which I hated with a passion. 

Math negativity stemmed from my year in Miss Hall's Grade 2 class - she had grey hair rolled into an austere bun, long dark skirts, eyes that squinted and stabbed at you like daggers, a tongue that lashed out when you deviated just the least from her expectations and a voice that could cut a swathe and lay desks out in a swoon.  She marched down the aisles between us, drumming her ruler on the palm of her hand to a rhythmic metronome beat, whilst barking out multiplication tables and pointing to random sacrificial lambs who had to respond within 2 seconds.  She got me every time - I was so nervous I could never answer quickly enough and so had to endure the punishment of putting out my hand and having it smacked by her ruler - oh how I hated math!


2010, however, brings with it much more charm and pleasantaries.  I am armed with a new computer, new assessment forms and a whole new list of children to serve.   I have my pens, and pencils and notebooks at the ready.  I am armed for the next 10 months - let the battle begin!

Sojourn in South Africa 2010

It is with somewhat of a heavy heart that we take this trip to South Africa in July 2010.  Mom J is moving from her own apartment where she has been mostly independent and free to make her own choices about when to eat, what to eat, when to go out, etc.  The only thing she still broms about is not having a vehicle any longer - from her perspective she needs it to gad about.  From our perspective - with her compromised vision, slow reaction times, directional challenges - amongst others - not least of which is being 78 years old - we think that the roads and highways and their various motorists may do better without her chorrie being added to the mix.

She has had a few set backs that have required hospitalization and while she is now medically stable, she has become frail and weak.  She really does need to have the 24 hour assisted care level that comes with her retirement home.  

So we have made the journey to close down the apartment, sell up or store her possessions and mover her down to 24 hour care.   It has been made a little easier as she recognizes that this move is in her best interests and she is not fighting it.  We have set up her TV, her phone and mobile, her clothes.  We have bought her a wheelchair so that she can still "gad about" on four wheels.

It was wonderful to have Tiffany with us this time.  We showed her some of the sights of London on our stopover too.

In Cape Town, we did all the usual sights: up Table Mountain, down to Stellenbosh to the Wine Farms - we even met Halle Berry and her daughter at the Leopard Sanctuary.  We took multiple walks on Blouberg, and had the opportunity to watch Tiffany surf.  We spent some great evenings with family in restaurents eating our favourite prawns, kingklip and South African steaks.

The best part - reconnecting with family: Lesley and Garvin, and even Leigh and Jo-Anne flew down to be with us, and Mom H stayed with us at the Blouberg apartment that we rented.

All in all, a very good trip - despite the reason for the trip we all had a very good time!

Sliding into Summer.

The school year end has approached very quickly, and I will join the privileged ranks of education staff around North America for my first eight week summer vacation.  It has been a joyous experience working with children.  There have been some stressful moments to be sure, but for the most part a smooth, valuable, and positive work life. 

I have sometimes wished I could parachute into a lost island somewhere in some vast ocean complete with tiki hut, fresh fruit and fish, with an extra tiki hut for a library to while away my days.  But then I would miss out on some of the finer points of life in the fast lane.

Some of the funnier moments of walking the hallways of elementary school: A little munchkin in Senior Kindergarten spies me walking past in the hall: slaps his foot down in front of me and says "Please tie my shoelace".  Then in the playground a group of Grade 3's are playing some kind of ball game and the ball bounces over the fence into the front of school car park where I am busy unloading my equipment: "Miss, miss! Will you fetch our ball? And then the delighted shouts of "She's doing it!" and then the little girl who came up beside me as we walked in the same direction in a corridor: She slipped her hand into mine, looked up to me and said "Please walk me to my classroom".  (This last one because no child is allowed outside of a classroom on their own). 

These steal your heart moments would be lost and what would I do without filling myself up with such pure innocence and sweetness.

And so a year ends on a high note.  More to come as I now have a new contract for the next year of school!

From my tiki hut in suburbia to you.

The 3 R's.

Re-use, reduce, recycle.

We are trying our best to follow the rules of best practice when it comes to waste management.  It is one thing that Canada has taken on quite successfully, barring a few glaring omissions.  I believe the blue box system is nationwide which allows us to recycle glass, plastic, paper, and cardboard.  Our black bag garbage system for all other refuse only happens every second week (although we are allowed up to six bags to be placed on the sidewalk - if we place all six, just how much waste are we accumulating - and our household is guilty of doing that occasionally - particularly with visitors, or after we have geared up for a clean up.). The brown bag for garden waste comes in real handy and allows us to forego a trip to the municipal dump to get rid of the offending items ourselves.  Finally, the latest in the line-up is the green box which took some getting used to in the beginning, but is working quite smoothly for us now.  It allows us to place kitchen compost in compostable liners to be picked up by garbage collection each week.  Apart from the chore of sorting and getting to kerbside garbage disposal is a fairly painless operation that hopefully is having a positive effect on our Canadian environment and the world in general. 

What they haven't yet figured out is the small problem of trucking some our waste to the States.  I think that each community should be responsible for disposal of it's own waste within that community - we should not be transferring the problem elsewhere, even if it is easy dollars for both donor and recipient.

The most difficult to control of all, is our society's consumer driven quest, that is coupled with our propensity to own more and more goods.  The worst part of consumerism is the lack of quality and the built-in fail mechanisms that keep us on the hamster wheel of continuous replacement - my grandmother's washing machine lasted all her married life; while mine is lucky to make it to five or ten years, whilst I shell out huge sums of money for warranty insurance services (that inevitably do not amount to anything due to the number of exclusionary factors that always seem to crop up in the fine print).

Hopefully, in time we will become more discerning shoppers, and more vociferous in our demands for quality.
C'est la vie.