Sacrifice

I hate these brainless fart fucks who randomly write their thoughts down on pocketbook computer, half drunk, half dressed and full of their fucking glory days and events planned by the seaside. I hate him because he writes better than me, his collages, circ de soleil scenarios, without even using capital letters and bad spelling...he pisses me off, this fuck head who can write better than me....effortlessly....which seems like a long word to spell if you are not careless, like him...and yes, I probably have to spell check that... not like dweeb of whom I've been reading his blog secretly...who has no idea he can write.

He types typos all the time......shit, even his bad grammar reads better than the sloth I attempt. I stink compared to his drivel. Yet his madness is so compelling, that each word soaks into my eagerness to be better, be better than that...that brilliance.

I hate how I write. Maybe I should learn to concentrate less on punctuation, and conjunction function what's your junction...oh, geez, no wonder brilliance is wasted in a diary of minds of commas and pauses, don't forget to pause. Fuck head writes randomly, with no pre-thought....and probably this is my problem in my own telling of tales. I think too much about them to forget.

Maybe I should become the moment, take time to study and learn how to stretch and not use the Caps Lock on my keyboard. I hate it when I see i...when it should be I. But, then again, i grew up in an age that expected either a wrong anwser or a right one. In these days of computers, either one can be the solution or the solution. It was only decided upon the colour of your eyes.

0r if you took Yoga Classes.

Breanna's mom is parked in my driveway and she is intelligent enough to park at the edge, to not spoil by engraved, stained, expensive driveway with oil stains from her old beat up Mazda.

She's probably younger than me, but has a face that looks like it's been squished in a vice....a weird sad look of a communist republic, with the outlook of potatoes not good today for market.

At this moment I am wondering if I am becoming a better person at aging, or sacrificing goods.

I still shave my legs.....up to the knees only, have them faux tanned, still shave my arm pits, have the occasional swing moods of fury "don't fuck with me or I will tear your head off"

I sacrifice myself every day.

Our New Travel Trailer

Family convenience, quality and fun have all been wrapped up into one hybrid trailer Rockwood calls the ROO. This hybrid trailer is loaded with amenities your family will enjoy every day they camp. The Rockwood Roo focuses on easy set up and camping comfort so all your family has to do is focus on the fun. With the Roo, we are confident fun won’t be a problem.

We traded in our Trail-Lite Bantam for this newer model. It's 23 feet but opens up to 31 feet, and still light enough for the Hummer to tow. It has two pop out beds on each end, and one electric slide out. AND, has a built-in 19" plasma TV.


Specifications

Exterior

Aluminum Frame (Floor, Sidewall, & Roof)
Vacuum Bonded Fiberglass Sidewalls
Automotive Radial Tires
Alpha 1 Piece Vinyl Roof
Radius Corner Windows and Doors
Torsion Axle w/ Rubber-Ryde Suspension
Outside Shower
2-20lb. Gas Bottles
Auto Gas/Electric Refrigerator
Electric Slide-Out
Decorative Frame Skirting
Aluminum bed and dinette frame
Insulation factors R-7 side wall, R-12 floors and R-14 ceiling
Industrial lockable bed latches
Bed cable system (no poles)
14" Tires with Double Step
Molded Bottle Cover
2 doors entrance.

Interior
Raised Panel Solid Wood Cabinet Doors (Except 17, 183 and 19)
Tub Surround (except 17 & 19)
Screwed and Glued Cabinetry
Decorative Valances w/ Mini Blinds
3 Burner High Output Gas Range
6 Gallon Gas Water Heater
Water Heater By-Pass
Monitor Panel
Phone Jack
Bathroom Skylight
55 Amp Converter with Charger
50/50 Jalousie Windows
2 Bunk Fan/Light Combination
Large Dinette Picture Window
Residential 1 Piece Double Sink Cover/Cutting Board
Indoor/Outdoor Table
Residential Drawer Guides
Digital AM/FM/CD w/ Remote
Directional Reading Lights on Sofa Slides
All Roof Ducted A/C (Except 17, 183 and 19)
Carbon Monoxide Detector (Std. Opt.)
Double Door Refrigerator (except 17, 183 and 19)

Options - which we have included with our trailer.
Optional Blue or Green décor
Optional Cream Interior w/ Stainless Steel Appliances
Optional Stainless Steel Appliances
Conventional Gas Oven
Microwave
Sliding Front Storage Tray (where available)
TV Antenna w/ Cable & Satellite Hook Up
Spare Tire, Carrier & Cover
Awning
13,500 BTU Ducted Air
Outside Gas Grill & Worktable
Front Stabilizer Jacks
Electronically Controlled Heated Holding Tanks
Tinted Safety Glass
Canadian Coding
Aluminum Wheels
Double Door Refrigerator (17, 183, 19)
Create-A-Breeze 3 Speed Fantastic Vent (Std. Opt.)
Heated Mattresses (Std. Opt.)
Water-Pur Filtration (Std. Opt.)

The Rain Stays Mainly on the Plain

As anticipated, camping during the May long weekend resulted with a down pour, with the occasional breaks of calm. There were no blue skies, no boats on the lake, no wallowing smoke from firepits with steak smells. No loud music, no kids on bicycles, no new friendships, no nothing, except rain, rain and more rain.

Sabrina brought along two friends, bringing our party of four to a tribe of six,




which meant I had to drive the van up to the lake, since the Hummer could barely squeeze in the electric scooters, and bikes and all the crap the kids require to amuse themselves in the rain. Daniel left early in the afternoon, set up camp, then got the speedboat out of storage.



By the time the girls and I got there, everything was ready, beds made, christmas lights strung up, even a laundry line.

I got three pictures in, as if I need to be reminded of the rain, when my camera DIED! It just blacked out and we didn't bring the charger. So there were several

















wonderful shots I wanted to take, like of the few windows of opportunity when we got the boat into water and tubed the kids back and forth, all wearing wet suits, looking like a bunch of 90210 t.v. characters.

The girls primped and flattened each other's hair in the camp washroom, while Brandon watched Jimmy Neutron the Movie for the 100th time. Daniel and I sat around a fire and I had to listen to him moan and groan about the rain. "I told you so" I kept saying, since I watched the weather forecast a full week before we came here, knowing the weekend was calling for rain, rain and more rain.

About the girls. Breanna's mom is a nervous wreck and needed to be in contact with her daughter every few hours. We hadn't even left the house yet and she'd already called four times. We called when we got to the lake, when we went to bed, when we awoke. By the second day I hid the phone, except then she started calling the On-star Hummer phone. When Breanna has sleepovers at the house, and if we don't answer the phone, she drives over right away, panicking, because "no one answered the phone".

Shay stinks. She stinks of B.O. all the time, and her feet stink, too. She talks like a valley girl, "you know, want to go to the Mall". And she eats like there's no tomorrow, but mostly she stinks.

But they get along and it was amusing to watch them watch guys. Brandon loves Breanna, he just adores her.

The sun came out just when we arrived back home. My garden looked like it grew, my grass was greener, but the bird is gone.

...where the lillies bloom...

Mary-call, Mary-call......the honeysuckle winds call her to distant place, beyond the stardust that fell upon mountain rise, laying softly towards where the lillies bloom.

I love that movie. If you google the young actress who starred in the movie, it shows just one film, just one role. She was fantastic! Then you wonder why she only did ONE movie....there are no other links, or other websites that talk about her...absolutely nothing. And in these days and ages, you can practically find out about anyone, anywhere, anywhooo.

Then I sort of wondered about my one-hit son
and my own situation with Brandon, who seems to lose interest in any adventure, or activity, or class session, etc. very quickly. Some teachers have hinted an A.D.H.D. disorder, and I hate to admit it but Brandon fits every symptom....

DSM-IV Criteria for ADHD
I. Either A or B:

Six or more of the following symptoms of inattention have been present for at least 6 months to a point that is disruptive and inappropriate for developmental level:

InattentionOften does not give close attention to details or makes careless mistakes in schoolwork, work, or other activities.

Often has trouble keeping attention on tasks or play activities.
Often does not seem to listen when spoken to directly.
Often does not follow instructions and fails to finish schoolwork, chores, or duties in the workplace (not due to oppositional behavior or failure to understand instructions).
Often has trouble organizing activities.
Often avoids, dislikes, or doesn't want to do things that take a lot of mental effort for a long period of time (such as schoolwork or homework).
Often loses things needed for tasks and activities (e.g. toys, school assignments, pencils, books, or tools).
Is often easily distracted.
Is often forgetful in daily activities.
Six or more of the following symptoms of hyperactivity-impulsivity have been present for at least 6 months to an extent that is disruptive and inappropriate for developmental level:

HyperactivityOften fidgets with hands or feet or squirms in seat.
Often gets up from seat when remaining in seat is expected.
Often runs about or climbs when and where it is not appropriate (adolescents or adults may feel very restless).
Often has trouble playing or enjoying leisure activities quietly.
Is often "on the go" or often acts as if "driven by a motor".
Often talks excessively.

Impulsivity
Often blurts out answers before questions have been finished.
Often has trouble waiting one's turn.
Often interrupts or intrudes on others (e.g., butts into conversations or games).




His Daddy and I know he has problems at school, whether it be in French or English, he seems to be confused and disorientated, and distracted, and out of sorts...like stardust that tries to find the lillies, yet land instead in a field of wheat in Saskatchewan or a corn field in Alberta. Such a waste of stardust.


I promised I would write more about Brandon, mostly because he has my blog linked as "one of his favorites".....and he reads it constantly, probably more for my "Family Guy" video clips.

Today, he wants to be a magician. So we allow it. Because he laughs and smiles....and focuses....as he levitates.

Release

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Lately, it seems to be always about Sabrina.
Sabrina and her black eye.
Sabrina and her friends.
Sabrina and Space Camp and this and that....
and here how she looks today, with that mean black eye.
Here's what she wore as we shopped for stuff, things for our upcoming camping trip at Cultus Lake...like she was a big movie star...but we know she doesn't think that way, she hates drawing attention to herself.
Brandon is my kid, too....and he has his own issues. But he still creates Mother's Day cards, still communicates in French and Anglais.

Brandon loves our Hummer. He remembers every last detail of the purchase thereof...and relishes every visit at the Dueck GM for accessories, etc. He's a strange mixture of a kid. I love him so much I can't see fault. It pisses me off when people find fault in him. He prints so neatly.

Of course, this can't compare with Sabrina's ghosts...the ones she sees from the corner of her eye (which will eternally be by the corner of her eye, because this is her eye disease), as she awakens to her limited vision of light and dark and contrast, she sees them, ghosts.
I hope they are the kinds ones, like Alison DuBois in "Medium", after all...the name is French.

...and I hope those kind spirits open up the heavens arounds us for the May long weekend, so that we can shine, shine, shine, despite the miserable weather forecasts.

My front yard....everyone should have a cat.

I can't show full pictures of the garden because we have both our travel trailer and speedboat parked in the driveway...you wouldn't beable to see it anyways...so I offer these little vinyettes...with our pretty cat, Sylvester, who turns 15 years old....having survived outdoor living, coyotes, racoons, Ana the nutcase neighbour....we are preparing to go camping for the May long weekend.....

Spring blooming in my backyard....

Sabrina vs. the Baseball Bat

May 10, 2007:
The office at Sabrina's school had called me to inform me of a "little emergency". As far as I'm concerned, there's no such thing as a petite or grand one.....I'm already assuming death by the phone call alone.

Je suis des-o-lay...Sabrina was morted by a le petite grand mal (seizure).

Ok, now I'm making fun of the french language and the stupid office people at the school....hey, guess what...Francois, Yves'la'Vek'......and all your weird other men names....WE ALL DON'T SPEAK FROG ! OKAY ! And quit calling me Madam Bergeron...it pisses me off, you bunch of cheese heads.

I'm pissed off about the initial phone call....la petite emergency.......

and that an ESM plan was not put in place....it seems there was no first aid protocols practiced at the onset of injury. Sabrina was NOT assessed, no level of first aid was provided for her, though there should have been at a secondary school.

Their "petite emergency" was to call me, the parent, and have me come and pick her up at school. And if not me, then call her father, who is also working 40 km away from the school, and is not reachable by phone.

When we could not provide either transport, someone in the office reluctantly drove Sabrina home.

I think I should check into these scbool board policies and protocols, as I am fairly certain, Sabrina did NOT receive adequate first Emergency Response...at a public school, as she could have been suffering more from the obvious trauma....such as further eye injury, a hereditary infliction already impeding her sight. An ambulance should have been called immediately for the medical care of my daughter.

They should have NOT swept the action into my hands, at my workplace, where I am NOT the first responder. Coincidentally, I received three phone calls from the school, thereafter....when they removed the liability from their school grounds.

Trust me...I am checking into that.

UPDATE: May 15, 2007

The Good Samaritan

You are a good samaritan, you have no legal duty to being helpful to another human being, when they are sick, in a car accident, or passed out in an aisle at Safeway. You are a good samaritan when you stop and care about the well being of this injured person.

Don't assume the next person will do it...you have to do it, whether you have First Aid training or not, having someone with you helps. Even if you just yell out for this person "I need help!!" is enough to bring this person to recovery. Don't leave them, stay with them and comfort them as much as you can.

If you are a First Aider, then begin your ESM and primary survey,
but I'm not writing about First Aid protocols. I'm writing about the average man or woman or child,
who has no clue what to do when they come across a person who needs medical attention.

I believe our schools should begin teaching our children First Aid, as early as possible. The most basic course takes only a day (8 hours) or could be split into smaller classroom periods. We should ALL KNOW CPR.

It's as simple as remembering 30 then 2....30 then 2.....30 compressions, 2 ventilations (2 breaths in)...30 compressions, 2 breaths, 30 compressions - 2 breaths....

It's as easy as your A ...B.....C's'

airway, breathing, circulation.

But, now I'm getting into other stuff that will bore you....you need to get the book, need to sign up at a St.John's Ambulance course.....and become confident like me...brag about new life-saving skills. Yes....I feel like I can save the world, and so can you! Take the course.

Saving someone's life is crucial, empowering, rewarding....it's hard to explain individual experiences.
You become the Good Samaritan, with no fan fare, no write-up in the papers, the ambulance drivers even ignore you at the scene. But you are the Good Samaritan, who may have just saved a life of another human being............... and just knowing that is good enough.

Nutella Hair

At the cusp of every first long weekend, where we anticipate the return of living in the wilds of British Columbia, where the lake has not yet warmed up to a comfortable swim, yet enough for a ride on the speedboat and children full of jiggy for white wash.

For my family it means hair appointments. Daniel gets the usual plastic cap coverage, turning what is left of his scalp into a spikey blonde bimbo, accompanied with the 10 minute tan sessions.

Then there's Sabrina, with her long, thick mass, pulled and stretched and streaked, and streaked until I can't recognize her anymore.

Brandon...nada...zip....he wants to be a rockstar, so his hair hangs like the Vancouver Canucks flag, down...limp, straight, and careless.

My hair has gone through many changes. Recently, my new hairdresser wants to impress me by making my thick, full hair, thin and dead. It takes her about 4 hours, but she eventually gets it to go thin. $260.00 later.....
This took two days to achieve. The first night was to only cover up my grey roots, after already been streaked two months previous. But I had to come back the next day to have those roots re-streaked, to match the rest of my hair. Instead, the hairdresser re-streaked, and re-streaked to achieve "the blonde look" which I suppose hairdresses do now, to make a 40'ish old fatty feel younger. Geez, the assumptions....I don't want to look younger, I want to feel younger. There's a big difference. And there's no way in Hell I'm gonna' stand at a mirror and flat-iron and prim and priss....my shoulder joints won't allow it.

Anyways, when I got home, Brandon immediately noted that my new hair looks like Nutella, the chocolate/vanilla mix.

Kids, eh....what do they know. But then, he sent home some class work that asked "who is your favorite person...(who turned out to be me this time, instead of Daddy, Daddy, Daddy)...is she thin, medium, or fat? Brandon checked the "thin" box. Now, he's either really stupid, or really, really smart.


Anyways, on my road to transforming myself, I decided to get my eyebrows waxed...not plucked, waxed. I've never had that done before, maybe because I feared the pain.I feared the thin tramp look, you know the one, where it's mistakenly over-plucked and pencilled in later. It's hard to see in this picture, but my brows have been waxed! It wasn't as painful as I thought it would be. This picture is the first day at the hairdressers, with root touch-up only.

But then my hairdresser asked if I wanted to wax "down there"....you know, "down there". So there I am, lying down on some cot, in the dark, like I'm at the Dentist or getting X-rays, and I suddenly feel nervous about "down there", since my stomach hasn't allowed me to see it for several years now.
OMG, I get this on-rush of realization that my hair-stylist is from Brazil!

I tell her maybe next time.

In the end, I feel rejuvenated by my new transformation and anxiously await our first long weekend at the lake, the enivitable problems we will encounter with poop overloads and come-along friends, the eventual rain that historically ruins every long weekend. But, at least, we will all look fantastic in our misery.

God help me if I become the movie......