Thursday, August 30, 2007
Thursday, August 23, 2007
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Wednesday, August 08, 2007
Best Friends
They continued where they left off, like it was only yesterday and not 4 years ago. Sabrina and her girlfriend, Danielle, had lots of fun during the long weekend camp trip.
Siggy, her dad, who is now a professor, aviation programs, in North Bay, Ontario, had met up with fellas he worked with at Air Canada, and they flew a cessna out of Boundary Bay to Nanaimo on the Island. They then flew back in a little Russian model, where Siggy was looped-de-looped, over and over.
Needless to say, with all the flying and camping, Siggy had a good time, too! And, I met up with one of my friends at the lake, people you seem to bump into all the time, and she asked if "our friend" was single. When I told Siggy he was being eyeballed, he responded "YES"...of course, he's not, not even close.
A funny guy, who wants to be known as a seaman. He actually does race the tall ships. There must be a joke in there somewhere, as the two boys giggle at each other and discuss screensavers, especially hubby's "girlfriend" big boobed, suntanned brunette, wife of medical doctor who drives an H2 and tows a yacht.
How do you know he's a doctor? Hubby says it stencilled right on the back of the boat, Kent Allen, MD. What kind of an asshole brags about being a doctor on his boat? The H2 is enough.
For weeks I sneak peeked "the doctor" and wonder if he's a plastic surgeon, and maybe I can get big boobs, too, well, maybe just a lift. What kind of doctor is smothered in tattoos? And what kind of doctor uses botox on his lips, because honestly, he has one hell of a gorgeous mouth.
Last Friday as we were nearing the lake turnoff, we spot his hummer and the yacht and as we got closer I read the name on the back: Kent ISLAND, MD. Not Kent ALLEN, MD. Hubby pronounces words incorrectly, being a goddamned frog and all.
You stupid idiot, it means Kent Island, Maryland. MD stands for Maryland you dumb ass! Not medical doctor. He hasn't removed old decals from a boat he probably bought "used".
And as we passed him, we waved our hands out the window, and I waved my boob job good-bye.
Thursday, August 02, 2007
Mutiny on the Bountiful, B.C.
Regarding my sarcastic remark in my previous post about Surrey, and moving to Chilliwack, and at least it's not near .......
.............Bountiful, B.C.
Saturday Night/August 4, 2001
By Daniel Woods
It's a remote town in an idyllic valley where polygamy is the norm and the neighbours don't seem to mind. But are there darker secrets lurking within?
From the remote port hill customs post on the B.C.-Idaho border, the road to Bountiful snakes east and north and east and south and east again, past fields of timothy and towering roadside cottonwoods. It's beautiful country.
At the end of the meandering route, clustered beneath the Skimmerhorn Mountains, are fifty or so houses set amid well-tended gardens and pastures. Smoke from wood stoves curls from nearly every chimney.
Pickup trucks are parked in driveways. The yards are manicured and full of swing sets, tricycles, and children running and shouting and laughing. The yellow buses standing beside Bountiful Elementary-Secondary School are precisely the colour of the larch that line the steep screen slopes directly above the little settlement. The mountains' jagged summits are dusted with snow. Bountiful is, to an outsider, a postcard of Bruegelian activity. The most dangerous thing around, it would seem, is the red-tailed hawk, poised on the branch of a tree.
But a closer look reveals that this is a community unlike most others. A sign along the village's main road reads: " Thou Shalt Not Park Here.
And straight ahead, clustered around a paved parking lot and a stand of weeping willows, sit five buildings. The two largest look more like motels than homes, with a series of doorways along both the ground and balcony floors. But homes they are.
This is where Winston Blackmore lives with his twenty-eight wives and eighty children, give or take a few. Around him in nearby houses live several dozen other fundamentalist Mormon men whose reading of the Old Testament tells them that they, too, should acquire plural-so-called " celestial "-wives in order to increase the number of their progeny.
.............Bountiful, B.C.
Saturday Night/August 4, 2001
By Daniel Woods
It's a remote town in an idyllic valley where polygamy is the norm and the neighbours don't seem to mind. But are there darker secrets lurking within?
From the remote port hill customs post on the B.C.-Idaho border, the road to Bountiful snakes east and north and east and south and east again, past fields of timothy and towering roadside cottonwoods. It's beautiful country.
At the end of the meandering route, clustered beneath the Skimmerhorn Mountains, are fifty or so houses set amid well-tended gardens and pastures. Smoke from wood stoves curls from nearly every chimney.
Pickup trucks are parked in driveways. The yards are manicured and full of swing sets, tricycles, and children running and shouting and laughing. The yellow buses standing beside Bountiful Elementary-Secondary School are precisely the colour of the larch that line the steep screen slopes directly above the little settlement. The mountains' jagged summits are dusted with snow. Bountiful is, to an outsider, a postcard of Bruegelian activity. The most dangerous thing around, it would seem, is the red-tailed hawk, poised on the branch of a tree.
But a closer look reveals that this is a community unlike most others. A sign along the village's main road reads: " Thou Shalt Not Park Here.
And straight ahead, clustered around a paved parking lot and a stand of weeping willows, sit five buildings. The two largest look more like motels than homes, with a series of doorways along both the ground and balcony floors. But homes they are.
This is where Winston Blackmore lives with his twenty-eight wives and eighty children, give or take a few. Around him in nearby houses live several dozen other fundamentalist Mormon men whose reading of the Old Testament tells them that they, too, should acquire plural-so-called " celestial "-wives in order to increase the number of their progeny.
Fear and Loathing in Surrey
We just have to do it.
We live in a big, beautiful house. We've gardened it, we've pampered it and took care of it, we've cherished it. Christmas decorations are blinding and Halloween decor screams of ownership pride.
But we just have to do it. We need to get out of here. We live in a city with grandeous plans and promises, by fixing one end of a piss ass area known as Whalley, scattering their drugs and whores to my end of town. It has raging crime and car theft and prostitutes who now parade themselves outside the doors of my local home hardware store.
All city council did was move the problem to another section of town, and they pat themselves on their backs and give themselves another fucking raise because they reduced the ugly eyesore of Whalley. And by reducing, I mean by building highrises and unaffordable condos that are snapped up by foreign investors who could care less about my City, to rent to DINKS (double income no kids) so that they can sip their brandy while viewing the mighty Fraser River.
My sister thinks we want to move because of fucktard next door. But that is not the case. Every time we go camping and we see Mt.Baker on the rise, we know we are getting away from the bowels of Surrey. The most stupid city in the world who banned casinos, much needed monies we could have snapped up, like all the municipalities that seem to have cleaner streets, nicer recycle bins, just something more appealing than scattered and confused Surrey: used, pedophile capital of the world, sikh capital, car theft capital. Nice, eh?
Air India bombing, yep...Surrey residents, and killings after killings. Garbage bin divers, buggy pushers, peddlers, pissers. And every once in a while you get a nice little neighbourhood with nice houses. My house. But you won't find my house because it's dead centre of chaos and mismanagement and signs pointing to 'heritage sites' or 'protect our salmon' or 'USA next exit' or 'population: 1 million stupid idiots'
We want to move to Chilliwack, the city where we go camping on it's lakes, where we shop in brand new shiny stores, where there are mountain vistas and lakeside villas. We need to get into that market now, asap, as this little sleepy town is becoming the 'Summer Whistler'. And we all know how Whistler is doing! It's so damned expensive there it costs a buck to fart tax, clean air initiative.
But Chilliwack has it's drawbacks, too. My sister reminds me "they're building a nuclear plant in Sumas, OMG!" So what. Cheap electricity will be available to both sides of the border. And there is truly a "clean air initiative" in place between Canada and USA due to the proximity of each town.
Cow shit. You will be smelling that for a few months, then after a while you get "use't-it, by golly". And, of course, the Vancouver pollution that lingers in the valley, creating a romantic English fog, but apparently it rains a lot here, cleaning the skies until the next oil spill in Burnaby, or forest fire, or any other environmental hazards that occur in B.C.
Religious capital of, not only Canada, but of North America. There are more churches and bible thumpers here in this sleepy town than head lice on Britney Spear's head....wha! you didn't know that, why else would she chop it all off. Okay, I made that up, but you get my drift. I figure, if it's not anywhere near Bountiful, British Columbia, we're doing just fine. And besides, I don't mind telling Christian folk to fuck off...
There are many new home builds here, many older style homes with acreage and hobby farms. We will take our time, not look just yet, until we sell our house first. So begins another milestone in the lives of Colleen, hubby and kidlens. We purchased this house almost 9 years ago for 270. Neighbour last year sold for 560. Other neighbour had a recent appraisal, 650. I want 700 for mine.
And I want to buy a nice one in Chilliwack for a ridiculous price. And then sit, and wait, and wait for the Hong Kong investors.
We live in a big, beautiful house. We've gardened it, we've pampered it and took care of it, we've cherished it. Christmas decorations are blinding and Halloween decor screams of ownership pride.
But we just have to do it. We need to get out of here. We live in a city with grandeous plans and promises, by fixing one end of a piss ass area known as Whalley, scattering their drugs and whores to my end of town. It has raging crime and car theft and prostitutes who now parade themselves outside the doors of my local home hardware store.
All city council did was move the problem to another section of town, and they pat themselves on their backs and give themselves another fucking raise because they reduced the ugly eyesore of Whalley. And by reducing, I mean by building highrises and unaffordable condos that are snapped up by foreign investors who could care less about my City, to rent to DINKS (double income no kids) so that they can sip their brandy while viewing the mighty Fraser River.
My sister thinks we want to move because of fucktard next door. But that is not the case. Every time we go camping and we see Mt.Baker on the rise, we know we are getting away from the bowels of Surrey. The most stupid city in the world who banned casinos, much needed monies we could have snapped up, like all the municipalities that seem to have cleaner streets, nicer recycle bins, just something more appealing than scattered and confused Surrey: used, pedophile capital of the world, sikh capital, car theft capital. Nice, eh?
Air India bombing, yep...Surrey residents, and killings after killings. Garbage bin divers, buggy pushers, peddlers, pissers. And every once in a while you get a nice little neighbourhood with nice houses. My house. But you won't find my house because it's dead centre of chaos and mismanagement and signs pointing to 'heritage sites' or 'protect our salmon' or 'USA next exit' or 'population: 1 million stupid idiots'
We want to move to Chilliwack, the city where we go camping on it's lakes, where we shop in brand new shiny stores, where there are mountain vistas and lakeside villas. We need to get into that market now, asap, as this little sleepy town is becoming the 'Summer Whistler'. And we all know how Whistler is doing! It's so damned expensive there it costs a buck to fart tax, clean air initiative.
But Chilliwack has it's drawbacks, too. My sister reminds me "they're building a nuclear plant in Sumas, OMG!" So what. Cheap electricity will be available to both sides of the border. And there is truly a "clean air initiative" in place between Canada and USA due to the proximity of each town.
Cow shit. You will be smelling that for a few months, then after a while you get "use't-it, by golly". And, of course, the Vancouver pollution that lingers in the valley, creating a romantic English fog, but apparently it rains a lot here, cleaning the skies until the next oil spill in Burnaby, or forest fire, or any other environmental hazards that occur in B.C.
Religious capital of, not only Canada, but of North America. There are more churches and bible thumpers here in this sleepy town than head lice on Britney Spear's head....wha! you didn't know that, why else would she chop it all off. Okay, I made that up, but you get my drift. I figure, if it's not anywhere near Bountiful, British Columbia, we're doing just fine. And besides, I don't mind telling Christian folk to fuck off...
There are many new home builds here, many older style homes with acreage and hobby farms. We will take our time, not look just yet, until we sell our house first. So begins another milestone in the lives of Colleen, hubby and kidlens. We purchased this house almost 9 years ago for 270. Neighbour last year sold for 560. Other neighbour had a recent appraisal, 650. I want 700 for mine.
And I want to buy a nice one in Chilliwack for a ridiculous price. And then sit, and wait, and wait for the Hong Kong investors.
Wednesday, August 01, 2007
Bubbling Pumps, By-law, Bulbs and Blondes
When we go away camping we suspect nutcase fuctard neighbour has been turning our pool pump off so that it doesn't disturb her tranquil deck and the Jesus bubbling fountain.
During our two week July camp trip, we came home on a Sunday to check the house, water the grass, etc. As we were leaving a very official looking 5-ton truck sped up into our driveway. I knew at once who it was and what it was about, since the City of Surrey logo was on the doors. Out power-walks By-law lady and asks to see me at the back, well not ask, more like glaring get-your-ass-in-the-back-need-to-end-the-war-of-the-pool-pump, N-O-W.
I knew there was a reason fucktard Ana was watching us all day, listening to us speak with the "nice" neighbours. Apparently, she had made a desperate last minute phone call to By-Law lady, crying how the pump was still too loud and that "they are going away again today, now". Hence, the arrival at the exact time we were pushing out.
By-law lady agrees with fucktard, the pool is too loud. I tell By-law lady it usually isn't this bad, that someone has kicked the crap out of it. Indeed, the pump was almost off it's cement base. Not to mention that someone has been turning the pump off when we are away because the pool water is still GREEN. But by-law insists we do something before we go....and all the while, fucktard is listening to us from her bedroom window, almost falling out to hear our conversation.
I tell By-law lady I no longer want to speak, as I don't appreciate people eavsdropping and I yell up to fucktard "mind your own business". Fucktard responds, "I can be here, it's my p-r-o-p-e-r-t-y... By-law lady suddenly gets this disgusted look on her face and yells up to fucktard, "we're trying to find a solution here, LEAVE!". Fucktard retreats inside and By-law lady asks me to place a blanket on top of the pump, to minimize the noise.
Thank God, I'm thinking, she originally wanted me to put a timer on the damn thing, or builD a box around it....before we left again for camp. The blanket solution was enough for her now.
Anyways, we come home after our second week and discovered our side light has been tampered with, screwed loosely out of it's socket. Well, you know who that is, right? And I purposely bought a 5 billion watt bulb, too, to shine down over Jesus fountain and her stupid deck. Now it seems we can't even shine light anymore. Hubby is working on an industrial lighting system now, which will illuminate the entire creek if need be. Noise is one thing, but taking away someone's security measure while they are away is so crude and selfish and self-centered disregard for everyone else is just wrong.
Following is a picture of the side light.
I thought I'd take more pictures of the garden.
Sabrina's best friend growing up was Danielle, who moved back to Ontario 4 years ago. She arrived today with her dad who sometimes has business here in Vancouver. (He's a service manager for Air Canada or something like that, retired, but still is called upon from time to time).
Danielle wears makeup now, has braces, plays electric guitar and has always been good at keeping in touch with Sabrina. She will send handwritten letters, in big print for Sabrina, with art work included, little trinkets of friendship. I'm embarrassed my kid hasn't a clue how to keep a friend. We constantly tell her to phone her up, but I think Sabrina is too involved with her new friends to bother with the one thousands of miles away.
Here's a picture of Danielle with Sabrina and Brandon.
Q: How can you tell when fucktard hasn't been turning off pool pump?
A: The water is clear, clear, blue. Finally.
Here are more camp pictures. Danielle and her dad will join us for camping this Friday for a few days. They were originally going home Saturday morning, but Ziggy is going to change plane reservations. An employee of Air Canada can go anywhere in the world, change routes last minute, departure dates. It'll be fun having them.
IT BETTER NOT RAIN !
During our two week July camp trip, we came home on a Sunday to check the house, water the grass, etc. As we were leaving a very official looking 5-ton truck sped up into our driveway. I knew at once who it was and what it was about, since the City of Surrey logo was on the doors. Out power-walks By-law lady and asks to see me at the back, well not ask, more like glaring get-your-ass-in-the-back-need-to-end-the-war-of-the-pool-pump, N-O-W.
I knew there was a reason fucktard Ana was watching us all day, listening to us speak with the "nice" neighbours. Apparently, she had made a desperate last minute phone call to By-Law lady, crying how the pump was still too loud and that "they are going away again today, now". Hence, the arrival at the exact time we were pushing out.
By-law lady agrees with fucktard, the pool is too loud. I tell By-law lady it usually isn't this bad, that someone has kicked the crap out of it. Indeed, the pump was almost off it's cement base. Not to mention that someone has been turning the pump off when we are away because the pool water is still GREEN. But by-law insists we do something before we go....and all the while, fucktard is listening to us from her bedroom window, almost falling out to hear our conversation.
I tell By-law lady I no longer want to speak, as I don't appreciate people eavsdropping and I yell up to fucktard "mind your own business". Fucktard responds, "I can be here, it's my p-r-o-p-e-r-t-y... By-law lady suddenly gets this disgusted look on her face and yells up to fucktard, "we're trying to find a solution here, LEAVE!". Fucktard retreats inside and By-law lady asks me to place a blanket on top of the pump, to minimize the noise.
Thank God, I'm thinking, she originally wanted me to put a timer on the damn thing, or builD a box around it....before we left again for camp. The blanket solution was enough for her now.
Anyways, we come home after our second week and discovered our side light has been tampered with, screwed loosely out of it's socket. Well, you know who that is, right? And I purposely bought a 5 billion watt bulb, too, to shine down over Jesus fountain and her stupid deck. Now it seems we can't even shine light anymore. Hubby is working on an industrial lighting system now, which will illuminate the entire creek if need be. Noise is one thing, but taking away someone's security measure while they are away is so crude and selfish and self-centered disregard for everyone else is just wrong.
Following is a picture of the side light.
I thought I'd take more pictures of the garden.
Sabrina's best friend growing up was Danielle, who moved back to Ontario 4 years ago. She arrived today with her dad who sometimes has business here in Vancouver. (He's a service manager for Air Canada or something like that, retired, but still is called upon from time to time).
Danielle wears makeup now, has braces, plays electric guitar and has always been good at keeping in touch with Sabrina. She will send handwritten letters, in big print for Sabrina, with art work included, little trinkets of friendship. I'm embarrassed my kid hasn't a clue how to keep a friend. We constantly tell her to phone her up, but I think Sabrina is too involved with her new friends to bother with the one thousands of miles away.
Here's a picture of Danielle with Sabrina and Brandon.
Q: How can you tell when fucktard hasn't been turning off pool pump?
A: The water is clear, clear, blue. Finally.
Here are more camp pictures. Danielle and her dad will join us for camping this Friday for a few days. They were originally going home Saturday morning, but Ziggy is going to change plane reservations. An employee of Air Canada can go anywhere in the world, change routes last minute, departure dates. It'll be fun having them.
IT BETTER NOT RAIN !
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