There Better Be a July Long Weekend!!

Canada Day this year falls on a TUESDAY, which means there will not be a long weekend. I've heard many companies are remaining open on Monday and taking Tuesday off.

NO WAY.....


I've instructed my clients to stay away on Monday because I won't be here, and that's final. In five years I've taken two sick days (but was still open anyways) and just one emergency day (when I had to send everyone home). And this was because hubby began taking Niacin, which has gotten a reputation for being a nutrient that is able to lower cholesterol. However, on his first dose something went wrong...he began to turn beet red, which we now know is flush, which, at certain niacin levels the expansion of the capillaries can cause heat, redness and itching. But did we know that. NOPE. I dialed 911 instead because his entire body was turning colour and he felt weak and uncomfortable. It eventually went away but I was sure scared.

The weather forecast calls for fantasticly HOT.

I haven't yet told Sabrina she will NOT be allowed to bring along a friend, especially the boyfriend, because it's costly, one more body takes up more space in the Hummer, the trailer, everywhere. We can't walk around in our underwear, fart, relax.

Not certain if Mark and his kids will be joining us as they just purchased a new house in Chilliwack and could possibly be moving this weekend.

Duck, Duck, Goose!

One of hubby's chums from Quebec called him last week and was going to be in the Vancouver area for a convention. They haven't seen each other in 30 years. When Richard arrived it was like they never parted as they drank Corona beer in the Hummer, playing Jimmy Hendrix loud and proud until midnight.

He sent some pictures of what they do in northern Quebec, spear fishing, hunting, shooting geese. He said when the Canadian geese fly over they blacken the sky because there are so many and all they need to do is shoot their guns upwards, and voila, dinner.

Camping June 14-15, 2008

Brandon at camp.
Mark, our new chef.
The new Hummer.
Sabrina, her BFF Adrian and Brandon
Short walk to the lake.
The new canopy, tables and chairs.
My new arbor with plants.
Getting ready to go ATVing.
The new barbecue.
Brandon rides Mark's ATV.

When I was King

One of the bestest present I ever received from my parents was a tetherball pole. After we lost interest in baseball and kick-the-can, Dad dug a huge hole in the middle of the yard and cemented us a pole. Tethered to that pole was a ball, a hard one, similar to a soccer ball, smaller than a basketball, and it was strung on a strand of rope meant to wrap and wrap and wrap itself around the pole.

Hence the winner of the game of tetherball.

When I was a little girl attending John Robson Elementary School in New Westminster, this was the recess fodder. And I remember standing in circle,
minutes and minutes, waiting for my time to enter the circle of tether. Once I got there, I was defeated immediately by the older girls, the ones who always won and knew how to wrap the rope around the pole at it's highest peak, far from my reach. Then the bell ran.

Day after day I would run to the circle in hopes of hitting the ball, just once. One girl actually gave me a chance and let me catch the ball and with a huge breath I swung my arm around, my muscles burning, I heaved and let the ball go. It flew over her head....just once, then she caught it on it's next flight around, and that was the last time I ever touched the tetherball at John Robson Elementary School.

My sister and I practiced night after night, day after day, playing this damned ball around the pole. We sprained our fingers, fought over fairness, we had friends over to play over and over again, we never stopped playing tetherball. It was greater than hockey.

At junior high I became known as one of the best players. I knew how to wrap the rope as high as it could get, tightening the ball at it's crown, an immediate defeat, unless I gave 'chancies'. By now I am tired of playing this childish game, need to go for a smoke, and I let the little kid win.

Sabrina and her friends played tetherball at the park tonight. She came home covered in blood, her legs and arms covered in blood and what the Hell!

Her friend was riding the ball, as it made it's journey around the pole, around and around and around until her finger got caught in the rope and sliced it clear off.

One of the kids found her finger tip, another found her fingernail that popped off.

And I don't feel sorry for this girl....why? Sabrina had to carry her home on her back as she was near fainting. Why do I feel angry instead?

Deep down I know why....this was my childhood game, the one I conquered and defeated and had hopes of my own daughter having memories of her dad digging a cement hole in our yard. Instead, she is left with this vision of finger mutilation ... I hate this decade. I hate the kids of today, their technology, and not knowing how to respect the aged games.