Be careful what you ask for... you just might get it

Newness

Thu, 25 Sep 2008 11:45:20 GMT

On Monday, I started fulltime at the new gummint dept, doing awareness sessions on Vista & Office 2007. Presentation was written by someone else, in both languages, so all I really have to do is read from the slides. There isn't a ton of stuff to do for the project, so I've got a lot of office downtime.

My new digs include My very own little cubicle that I don't share with anyone else, and My own door -- and it even locks!!

Staff here seem to be pretty closely knit, but leave it to Me to make My presence known to many in such a short time. :-D Having that dominant personality does have its perks.

I'll be travelling around NB starting Oct 6, and we're expecting to be all done by Dec 12. I'll be home on weekends, but I know He wishes I could be home more during this time. That's ok, though, because we'll get to miss each other.... which only means that when I'm home on the weekends, He gets better torture/torment sessions. *giggle*

Muffler

Fri, 09 May 2008 13:22:54 GMT

So, things are going well for Son's trip. He texted last night, said that the drive through Ontario is very pretty, and VERY long. It's hard not to snicker at some of his comments, I don't think he realized how long some of those stretches are.

He also told Us that he blew a hole in the muffler, and that he's getting that fixed today, before they keep going. Here's hoping it's not an expensive fix, and that he can find a second-hand one to get them out to Alberta.

The starter broke

Tue, 06 May 2008 19:09:25 GMT

Well, the kids were happily on the road to Alberta, I think they had just crossed into Quebec about an hour or so, when they stopped for gas.

And the car wouldn't start again.

Son knew it was the starter. And He had told Son to take the starter off the other car, pack it with their gear, just in case.

I think He's trying hard not to say "I told you so!" to Son, because it's so tempting.

So, 3 hrs in a hick town in Quebec is where they ended up, and about $180 poorer before they could leave.

I'm just hoping for no more car breakdowns before Alberta.

Kids are growing up

Mon, 05 May 2008 12:56:55 GMT

Today, the oldest one and his girlfriend and his best friend have headed out to Alberta.

Her sister is getting married soon, so they decided to make a vacation out of the trip. Son and BF are planning to stay behind after the wedding, to find work. "Go West, Young Man".

He's a little bummed out, but I'm confident they'll be ok. At least for the drive out. GF is coming back to the Maritimes after the wedding. My only concern for their relationship is if Son stays out there too long that she won't wait for him.

They're heading for Ottawa today, they'll probably get there around 8pm tonight.

It's official

Wed, 27 Jun 2007 14:07:57 GMT

Well, it's official.

I'm now a Snivel Servant for gummint. Papers were signed this morning.

Yay... I think.

Skinny minnie miller? Fat chance... maybe?

Wed, 21 Feb 2007 18:24:17 GMT

So, I decided just before Christmas that in the new year, I would start an exercise regime. I debated for a couple weeks as to what I would do, and how willing I would be to keep it up, even if I didn't feel like it.

I decided to walk the hallways at work during My lunch hour.

There are 6 floors in the building, but I don't walk the first floor, I find it too cold. At first, I wasn't really ready to tackle stairs going up, so I took the elevator to the 6th floor, walked the 3 wings, then walked down the stairs to the 5th, and repeated this until I was back down to the 1st floor. I did this for about 3 weeks, more or less. (Less would be because of flu season & a week's worth of vacation.) A couple weeks ago, I decided I wanted to try incorporating the stairs up in the walking. The first 2 days that week, I walked up only 2 flights of stairs. Since then, I walk up to the 2nd, walk those hallways, walk up to the 3rd, do those hallways, and keep this pattern while I make My way up to the 6th. Once on the 6th, I use one hallway and start My way down. (6th, down the hall, stairwell down one floor, 5th down the hall, other stairwell, etc.) This takes Me about 30 mins, and I can usually manage to walk it at least 3 times a week, sometimes 4 if I don't have any plans at lunch.

I started this around Jan 15. Results? I know I've lost at least 10lbs, because I had the chance to check out My weight (during PMS, I might add!) while on vacation, and I was down 7lbs. I'd also noticed My pants are fitting much looser. A pair of pants I just bought in January are now too big. I'm guessing I've lost about an inch off the waist, and at least that much off the hips. I now have to try putting the new pants in the dryer, so they'll shrink a little, and that I'm not forever hiking up My pants to My hips.

He's particularly impressed with the fact that I've stuck to the walking so far. I think I'm impressed too. :-D

Once the snow melts and the sidewalks are less scary to stomp on, I think I'd like to walk outside to one of the bridges & back to the office during lunchtime. And once the grass starts to grow, I'll get to mow it nearly 3 times a week (it's just that big of a yard, and can't be done with a ride-on), and that will help more.

Ideally, I'd like to lose another 20lbs this year. I'd be happy with 20lbs weight loss per year until I'm the size I'd like to be/should be. Then I won't have to huff & puff when I'm strapping someone down to the bench and beating the holy snot out of their ass. :-D

Bad week for IT techs in gummint

Fri, 12 Jan 2007 15:07:40 GMT

1 - One of our IT techs in My office had an accident Wednesday night. While putting out garbage, a metal broomstick was being difficult, and when he tried to bend it, it snapped back and hit him in the face. His cheek bones on one side are crushed, and he's lost the eye. I'm not sure if he'll go on permanent disability or not, especially where he's legally deaf as well (he wears 2 hearing aids).

2 - A network architect with another department had a car accident this past week. He broke his neck, and a few other select bones. Apparently, though, his spine is intact, and he will make a full recovery, but it will take at least a year. Meaning, he'll be able to walk again.

I think I'm going to be really careful in the next few weeks.

Yes, We're still here

Tue, 09 Jan 2007 19:31:36 GMT

I am SO bad at keeping a journal. Even as a kid, I had a hard time keeping a diary. Life just flies by so quickly that taking the time to jot down the highlights seems fleeting as well.

So, our new home pc is up & running, as well as the old pc that the new one was purchased to replace. Thanks to aberrantmist, the old one is now up & running. Someday, though, that hard drive will have to be wiped out so that Windows 2000 can be removed and XP reinstalled.

I finally called HP support last night, since the new pc seems to be trying to connect to the internet on its own. On dialup, that's a bad thing. The tech support guy was pretty helpful, and I understood *most* of what he said, since his first language is not English. *grumbling under breath about outsourcing* So, I tried everything he suggested, I rebooted a couple of times, and Voila! A few hours later, the damn thing tried to dial up. *sigh* So, I'll have to look at it again tonight.

Christmas holidays were fun, but definitely not long enough. And I want to know how the hell people still manage to find Us, especially since We're in the middle of nowhere and We unplug the phone! Here's a clue to the rest of you, when you try to call Us: If the phone rings 5 times and goes to voicemail, leave a damn message! It usually means We're not home or otherwise "indisposed", and if you show up during "indisposed", you only have yourself to blame for what you may see. Just a warning. ;-)

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas Shopping!

Thu, 30 Nov 2006 13:57:27 GMT

Well, last night was an interesting evening in shopping for electronics. Daughter wants an electric guitar, she swears she's going to learn and wants to start her own all-girl punk band. So, off to Futureshop we go. We ended up buying a package deal Robson Electric Guitar. While there, He applied for a Futureshop credit card, and got a buttload of credit. Since 1/2 son wanted a PS2, we picked one up at the same time. At least those 2 big gifts are done. Then He starts looking at LCD monitors and new computers. Oh dear! We could afford it on the card, but I think we'd be better off waiting until after Christmas.

So, that's one grandmother and 3 kids bought for. Now I'm just left with figuring out what to get Parents and remaining Siblings, and I think we'll be just about done. I know there'll be a few more to buy, but at least I can browse and consider before we buy.

Suck & Blow?

Thu, 05 Oct 2006 14:45:46 GMT

I'm sure aberrantmist will remember that first date & the shooters that night, so I thought I'd post this link. Order shooters or their containers this way, and it sounds like we could have a full night of rather interesting drinking. *snicker*

I might have to buy some Jello powder tonight, since I have ALL those plastic little cups still in the cupboard, those cups that will hold a good Jello shot. *snicker*

Night of the Darned

Wed, 04 Oct 2006 14:48:58 GMT

I didn't compose this, but I got it from a friend on another list. And it was just too good to not share. *snicker*

Night of the Darned
by lilredjammies Â©

Author's Note:

This story is ineligible for the Halloween Contest. It was written because I adore
the holiday and I got a great idea for a story. Please vote or not as you feel
moved, but I do ask for comments, as many and as honest as possible.

Thank you,

Jammies

***

It is a little-known fact that white cotton ankle socks are incestuously
polyamorous. Where do you think the term "poly cotton" comes from? Even stupid
humans could figure this out if they thought about it. We come in bags of six,
eight, or even twelve, and to humans unversed in the subtleties of distinguishing
one sock from another, we all look alike. This leads to the humans throwing us all
in the washer and dryer together, then pairing us up at random. We don't choose our
orientation, we've found through experience that the only way to stay sane is to be
polyamorous. Anysock who comes out of the bag with an attitude about monogamy and
fidelity and jealousy is shoved into the path of a bra at the first opportunity.
Fortunately, the bras have never figured out that we use them for their
savagery - they're just mindless tearing machines in the water.

Of course, polyamory isn't easy, even when you've weeded out the jealous types. The
other socks all act as if they're morally superior, just because they have one
sibling each, and if they're lucky, one love. A lot of them don't ever even find
love - they just get old and faded and frayed. Let me tell you - there is nothing
more exasperating than some old curmudgeon who used to be black and is now a sort of
reddish-grey turning his back on you in the laundry basket, hunching up as if you
could contaminate his fibers. Feh. Those jerks need to be more like us - we're
bleachable, so our colors stay sparkling; we're tightly-knit, so we last longer, and
we're cotton, so we stay soft and feet-friendly.

I'm a fairly young sock. I came out of the bag about six months ago, along with five
sister-wives and six brother-husbands. Although I am admittedly closest to my
bag-sister-wife Petunia, I love all of my family. We have a great time all cuddled
together in the drawer, ignoring the sneers and snide remarks of the more limited
socks. We have great workouts with Paige, and on laundry day, we have the best time
swimming and splashing in the washer and then dryer-diving. We take pride in
cushioning Paige's feet and keeping her sneakers from starting blisters. My
brother-husband Parker gave his life to let Paige know that one of her sneakers had
a wicked little edge on it. Because of his stalwart protection, Paige found the
loose piece of rubber the sneaker was trying to hurt her with, and threw out the
shoes. Unfortunately, the hole in Parker's collar led to him being dismissed to the
ragbag.

It's always sad when we lose someone, which happens from time to time. For us,
though, it's not the world-ending tragedy it is for monogamous socks. We have a
support network, and even though one of us isn't folded into a pair, the loner is
always saved and paired up again eventually. All of us are careful to cuddle the
loner, and make sure he or she is not sliding into depression or apathy. After
Parker was sent away, I was paired with his former partner, Palmer. As fall
approached and all of the socks started telling horror stories, I kept close to
Palmer, reassuring him that only rarely was one of us stolen by the dustbunny
monster under the dryer, and we were never ever thrown aside because our color had
faded or our trim ripped off. After all, we have no color or trim to lose! While I
was doing that, I noticed that Peony kept glaring at me, fluffing her fibers
slightly. A time or two, I wondered if she might be jealous, but that is not a vice
polyamorous socks allow, so I put her out of my mind.

The horror stories came thick and fast that autumn, as there was a new pair of socks
in the drawer. Holly and Heather are thick little ankle socks, and even I have to
admit that they are pretty, with their leaf-green color and their excessively soft
fibers. Both of them, however, are as dim as they are lovely, and the older socks
vied to scare them with stories of what happened to the last pair of socks Paige
hand-washed. Granted, Holly and Heather didn't have lace to lose, but not even the
prettiest green stays fresh forever...

Palmer and I had heard most of the horror stories, of course, since the other socks
were always trying to upset my family members, but the story of the heroic Tony had
a particularly poignant effect now. We were curled around each other one day, not
talking, just nuzzling and enjoying each other's company when the drawer opened.
Paige's fat little fingers grabbed the new socks and whirled them up and out of the
drawer while the rest of us winced.

"Mom! I have to wear these socks with my costume!" Paige shrieked. "They match my
wart and my frog!"

"Paige, don't yell in the house, you're not a baby." Her mother answered, her voice
growing closer. "You may not wear those socksâ€”those are dress socks."

"But Mom!"

"No buts. Let me see." Paige's mom peeped into the drawer. "You should wear a pair
of your ankle socks, dear, you're going to be doing a lot of running and standing
when you go trick-or-treating."

"MOM! They're white! I can't be a witch and wear white socks! I wanna wear the green
socks!"

All of us winced again. The only thing worse than Paige shrieking was Paige whining,
and when she got to "green socks," she'd started combining the two. Although her
mother quickly put a stop to both, her words made all of us very nervous.

"How about if we dye a pair of the white ones green?"

"Ooh, Mom, can you do that?" Paige squealed with happiness, and we could hear her
feet pounding out of the room as she chanted, "I'm gonna have green sooooocks. That
match my waaaaaaart. And my froooooooog!"

Paige's mother sighed. "Sure, Paige, leave your mother to figure it all out, kiddo,
that's what mothers are for." Her capable hands passed lightly over all of us.
"Well, I can pick a pair out after we get the dye." With that, she shut the drawer
and left us to our speculations. It was a long night in the sock drawer as rumors
flew, gossip was exchanged and effects and aftereffects were debated. Not one sock
had ever been, *gulp* dyed after birth. Nobody knew if only white socks got dyed, or
if it might even happen to the pastels. Even the traditional feud between the
monogamous socks and the polyamorous was set aside, as everysock wondered what would
happen and how it would feel and if it would hurt.

In the week that followed, Peony showed a previously hidden dramatic side. She
lurched around the drawer, wringing her fibers and moaning about how she was sure
she was going to be selected because although she was a twelvemonth old, she had the
fabric of a three-month-old. She was sure that despite the fact that to humans, we
are all the same, Paige loved her best and would select her for this horrific
"honor." She also bemoaned her pending separation from Palmer, something which
caused a number of raised eyebrows. Any time she could, she would wander over to
him, stroke his seam and nuzzle his collar, whispering about how they were
solemates, and shouldn't be separated.

Meanwhile, the sex in the drawer grew frantic, as all of my sister-wives and
brother-husbands tried to say goodbye to one another 'just in case.' Even a few of
the sports socks came over; looking to make sure they didn't die virgins. A decision
was made by all of us that responding to those overtures was up to the individual
who was propositioned. I say without modesty that Palmer and I were tremendously
popular both for our willingness to work together with a pair of scared virgins, and
for the luscious effect we had on them once they stopped being scared. Never before
in my young life had my seam been so sore from sex, and by the end of the week, my
collar was so sensitive I couldn't bear to have it touched.

Finally, the weekend arrived. Some of us had been worn to school, some to gym class,
some to tennis lessons, some to run around the neighborhood with Paige and her
friends. All of those socks were safe, if dirty, in the laundry basket. Over the
week, Paige's dress socks had convinced themselves that none of them would be dyed,
and had gone back to worshipping and envying Holly and Heather. Those two were a
long way from the scared anklets who had joined the sock drawer - secure in the
knowledge that they were to be hand-washed and that another pair of socks was to be
dyed to spare them from some undignified activity, they were smug and superior.
Unfortunately, that was just one more excuse for Peony to engage in drama.

"Why do they think they're so great?" she fumed. "They don't care that some of us
are going to SUFFER. That some of us are going to DYE. That two of us will be
separated from their loved ones."

"Peony, come off it," I spoke the first words I'd addressed directly to Peony in a
week. "You are acting in a manner unbefitting a white cotton ankle sock. We are the
elite. It doesn't matter how soft or fine or green another sock is - they don't have
the group love and support that we have in our marriage."

"You...you...you...SNEAKER!" Peony screamed as she launched herself at me, bowling
me over and into a corner. I barely managed to curl into a ball before she was on
me, kicking and biting and yelling about how I'd come between her and Palmer, when
everysock knew he was destined for her but only stayed with me because of an
accident of sorting. I had just uncurled enough to slap her back away from me when
the elders from both sides of the sock drawer stepped in and pulled us apart.

"Peony, Poppy, this has to stop!"

I looked defiantly at the Patriarch and Domme Black Tights. "She attacked me. Was I
supposed to just lie there and take it?"

"No, child. But this sort of fighting endangers the happiness of all socks, and you
know it. Return to your corner with Palmer, and let us talk with Peony."

I obeyed, but once there, couldn't keep from staring back at the drama. Of course,
the drawer was so small that all of us could hear Peony being lectured and
threatened with death-by-bra. I would have felt sorry for her, had she not continued
to assert her defiance of the spirit of our community. She reiterated that she and
Palmer belonged together, that they should be first among equals to each other, blah
blah blah. Finally, the Patriarch shoved her into a corner, where she lay, staring
defiantly out at the rest of us. Word was quickly passed that Peony was to be spared
death, but that she was to be shunned by all of us.

There was an uneasy peace in the drawer that night. All of us were acutely aware of
Peony in her corner, alternating between longing looks and sighs aimed at Palmer,
tears of rage and unrepentant glares. I don't think anysock got much sleep. In the
morning, it was actually a relief when the drawer was opened. Domme Black Tights
actually crushed Peony into the corner, muffling her screeches and hiding her from
sight as Paige's mom pulled every single white cotton ankle sock out of the drawer,
held us up to the light, ran her fingers over us, and in some cases, stuck her hand
all the way inside of us! I was shocked and disgusted to be one of the ones fisted,
and couldn't stop shuddering. What made it worse was that she hummed the whole time!
Finally, she spoke.

"Oh, I think these two will do," she said, setting Palmer and I on the dresser and
putting everysock else back in their appointed places. The last thing I heard as the
drawer shut was a scream of despair from Peony that not even the full weight of
Domme Black Tights could muffle.

"Noooo! My looooove! Let me go with him! Let me dye!"

Palmer and I clung together as Paige's mom carried us into the kitchen. A foul odor
greeted us as we were flung unceremoniously on the counter. Just as we got our
breath back, a monster grabbed us. Rubbery yellow tentacles held us under a pounding
waterfall and scrubbed at us until every one of our fibers was soaked with all the
hot water possible. As the monster wrung us out, twisting us into shapes socks
weren't meant to achieve, I heard a soft humming. As Palmer and I were wrapped
around one another and squeezed, I managed to discern that the monster was actually
Paige's mom, with yellow rubber gloves on. She continued to hum as she turned away
from the sink and towards the stove. I could smell a sharp, unpleasant odor, and
looked down to see a simmering pot of dark green liquid on top of the stove.

"In you go!" Paige's mom sang as she lowered us to the water. Palmer screamed and I
whimpered. We were dipped into the water with hideous slowness, seams first. It was
hotter than the washing machine had ever been, and the acrid smell overwhelmed me.
Palmer was gagging and coughing, and although I tried to hold my breath, I soon
joined him. Once we were completely in the water, we both struggled to the surface,
only to be prodded back under with a metal implement. For the next thirty minutes,
any time either one of us popped to the surface, we were forced back into the
depths. The green liquid tasted even worse than it smelled, and it seemed that every
moment I would give up and drown. I tried clinging to Palmer once or twice, but we
were always separated. At first, we managed to gasp words of encouragement to each
other, but eventually, worn out from the struggle for air, we were both silent.

The torture lasted longer than the longest wash cycle I've ever experienced, and
towards the end, I was worried that I wouldn't make it, or that Palmer had already
drowned. I started to cry, hopeless tears of surrender, and even my tears turned
green as I was stirred to oblivion. After an eternity, we were removed from the
simmering pot, dunked in cold water, and hand-washed. At any other time, I would
have appreciated the luxury, but now I was just worried sick about Palmer.

As soon as we were left on the line, I started yelling his name. After a while, I
choked, and faltered to a stop, aware of the limp body hanging next to mine. As the
crisp breeze caressed me, I sank into an anguished stupor, no longer able to control
my grief.

"Poppy?"

It was Palmer! His voice was weak and raw, but he was alive! I twisted as best I
could with my collar pinned to the clothesline, and managed to just brush his fibers
with mine.

"I thought you were dead!"

Palmer brushed back softly, then let out an exhausted chuckle. "I'm still here,
beautiful. And now look at usâ€”we match."

I looked, and sure enough, both of us were a soft green. It wasn't a solid color
like Holly and Heather, the dye had mottled both of us, despite the constant poking
and prodding. Giddy in the knowledge that Palmer and I had survived, my mind
wandered to a life of becoming Paige's favorites, going all the places that Holly
and Heather were too good to go. Palmer and I would get to go to parties, to dances,
and of course we'd still love and be loved by the rest of our family, but we would
also be special and different. All through that short autumn afternoon, Palmer and I
swung in the sunshine and daydreamed out loud to each other.

At dusk, Paige's mom came and got us, thankfully without her rubber gloves on. She
tossed us in the basket with the jeans and sheets and pillowcases, and I didn't even
care that a zipper caught along my collar. We were taken into the house, and the
first thing we heard was Paige shrieking.

"I need to get dressed, Mommy! Where are my socks? Where are my undies? Help help
help, Mommy!"

"I'm coming, dear. Here are your socks and underwear. Get these on and I will bring
your dress and then do your makeup."

Paige ran to her room, swinging Palmer and I in one hand and a t-shirt and panties
in the other. We were treated to a monotonous chant about witches and warts and
frogs while she shoved her feet roughly inside us, then wriggled into her undies.
Her mother came in soon after, bringing a black dress, a purple long-sleeved
t-shirt, black sneakers and a long wig of black hair with one white streak. After
Paige had donned the clothing and the wig, she sat on the bed, bouncing until her
mother told her to sit still. When her face had been painted green and a large fake
wart attached, her mother dropped a tall pointy hat with a big brim on her head.

"There. You're a perfect little witch. Now remember to hold Sherri's hand and stay
with your dad and Mr. O'Connor. Don't run out into the street."

"Yes, Mom." Palmer and I could feel Paige twitching, eager to get out and be part of
this new adventure. She sprang off the bed and ran down the hall, shouting for her
father. As Paige's dad approached, Palmer and I said hello to his new socks (bright
orange but quite gentlemanly) and then paid attention to cushioning Paige's feet as
she ran out into the night. Paige's friend Sherri wore an outfit that made her look
like a monkey with wings, and really friendly bright red socks, and her dad had on
dad clothes with black socks. Palmer and I didn't have much time to chat with the
red socks, although the dads' socks were talking nineteen to the dozen.

The whole night was a sensory overload. Everywhere we went, there were children
shrieking and running and giggling. Palmer grumbled a bit that it's easy to be
sociable when you're not taking care of someone who's running, bouncing, twirling
and pounding up sidewalks and stairs and front porches. As the evening wore on,
Paige and Sherri seemed to trade bounciness for tired happiness, something to do
with the "loot" filling up the pillowcases they carried. The dads were trying to
persuade the girls to call it a night and come home when the awful thing happened.

The zipper that had caught my collar earlier in the day must have done some damage.
My elastic had felt looser, but I'd ignored it in my relief to have Palmer back and
in my euphoric dreams about the future. I whispered to him that I felt as though the
collar was giving way, while Paige begged her dad for a visit to one more house.

"Hold on, babe, we're almost home free." Palmer told me.

"I'm trying," I answered. "I think the dye weakened my fibers, though." I clung to
Paige's ankle as hard as I could, just as she won the discussion with her father.

"Palmer!" I shouted. "I can't hold on."

"Please, Poppy, please!" Palmer begged me. "I can't lose you! Please, stay with it!"

"I can't, Palmer, I'm sorry." No matter how hard I clung to Paige's ankle, I could
feel my grip loosening. As I started to slide down, I whispered, "I love you,
Palmer."

"I love you too, Poppy." Palmer's voice was choked with tears. We both knew how this
was going to end. As the last fibers of my collar weakened, I lost my hold on
Paige's ankle and slid down. Every step she took forced me down further, until I was
lumped under her arch. I could feel her wincing with every step, and I cringed.

"Daddy, my sock hurts!" Paige whined to her father, and I felt the full weight of my
failure.

"Okay, kiddo, we're almost home." Paige and her father said goodbye to Sherri and
her dad, and Palmer and I exchanged subdued and fearful goodbyes with Sherri's
pretty red socks. Paige's father swung her up in his arms and carried her to the
house, feet dangling. When we arrived at the house, Paige was handed over to her
mother, and retailed the entire story of the evening, ending with the "bad sock" who
"hurt my feet." This was immediately followed by a demand for some of her candy.

Paige's mom told her she could have one piece of candy if she promised to brush her
teeth right away. When she had done so, she yanked Palmer and I off her feet, threw
us in the laundry basket and dropped her dress on top of us, and jumped into bed
wearing her pajamas and her witch's hat. Her mom kissed her good night, and brought
the laundry basket with her when she left Paige's room.

As she set the basket by the stairs to the basement, we could hear Paige's dad
telling Mom what the evening was like from his point of view. The black dress was
lifted off, and Palmer and I were held up for inspection.

"Yes, I can see where this one lost its elastic," I heard, as fingers explored my
collar. "Well, I think there's a stray white sock in Paige's drawer. I'll just dye
that one to match. Right now, though, I'm going to bed." She hummed as she dropped
Palmer and I back in the basket, where we lay, silently absorbing the truth.

Palmer crept over to me, and curled quietly around me. "Poppy?"

"You'll be fine, Palmer. She'll dye Peony, and you'll have that life you dreamed
of," I said. If there was a certain amount of bitterness in my tone, well, it was
only to be expected, wasn't it?

"I don't want Peony," Palmer whispered. "I want you." He nuzzled me gently, and I
leaned into him.

"Oh, Palmer, I'm scared!"

"I know, Poppy, but I don't know what to say or do." Even in the darkened hallway, I
could feel the hurt and confusion coming from him. I embraced him.

"It's okay, it's not your fault." We were silent for a bit, clinging to each other
as if we'd just come from the dryer. "Palmer?"

"Yes, Poppy?"

"Make love to me?"

"WHAT?"

"Please. If I'm going to die in the morning, I want one last night of love."

"Poppy! I do not want to think about you dying!"

"Please, Palmer. Not many socks know when the end is coming. Since I've been given
the chance to prepare for my fate, I want to die knowing I'm loved." Because I could
still sense some reluctance, I started rubbing my fibers softly along his seam. When
I felt it stiffen and heard him groan, I knew I had him.

"Oh, Poppy. You are the most beautiful sock ever," Palmer murmured as I pulled him
on top of me. His fibers brushed mine, and I responded with eager caresses, nuzzling
his collar and stroking his seam. For what seemed like an eternity, we teased each
other with feather light touches and soft squeezes, until Palmer's seam was near to
bursting and my own fabric was soft and aching. In one languorous motion, Palmer
slid his seam into my fibers, and I responded by pulling him deeper.

The sensation was so exquisite that I gasped, and Palmer stopped, afraid he had hurt
me. I whispered words of encouragement, and he responded by thrusting his entire
seam deep inside me. I clung to him with every fiber, nuzzling him as he murmured
over and over again how much he loved me, until we both exploded in fireworks of
light and lint. All night long, we made love over and over, until the first pale
light of dawn crept over the laundry basket, and Palmer slept, exhausted.

I watched him, afraid of my future, but also hoping that his would be warm and kind,
that Peony would treat him well, and that Paige would love him and wear him for a
long time. As the light brightened, I heard humming, and knew that Paige's mom was
coming for us. I nudged Palmer, at first gently, and then harder, until he woke up.
As the humming grew closer, I clung to him and he to me. All too soon, the humming
stopped and Paige's mom spoke.

"Drat. I should have checked last night."

Palmer and I were pulled from the basket and inspected. Even as I tried to hold on
to him, we were wrenched apart and he was tossed back into the laundry. I heard a
sock giggle, and watched as Peony was tossed in beside him. Paige's mom started
humming again, and as she carried me off, I heard that, and over the humming, the
sound of Peony fussing over Palmer, asking if he was hurt, could she hug him, wasn't
it fortunate that she was single right now and they would be together forever. My
heart broke, and I barely even noticed when the cupboard door gaped open and I was
thrown into the trash. The door closed, and I was alone, in the dark, lying on top
of coffee grounds, orange peels, eggshells and less attractive detritus.

I lay there, stunned and miserable, for an agonizing half hour. Then I heard an
unmistakable sound - Paige shrieking.

"Mommy! MOMMY! My feet! My feet are GREEN!"

Even through the closed cupboard door, I could hear Paige pounding down the hall on
her newly green feet, and I snickered softly as I listened to the ensuing drama.
Paige was sure that her feet would be GREEN FOREVER and her mother was trying to
reassure her that a few baths would return her to her normal color. When Paige's mom
had her settled down and eating some oatmeal, I heard her walk out of the kitchen,
humming again.

The cupboard door opened, and I could hear her say, "No more dyed socks, sweetie.
And I am putting the single sock in the rag bag for dusting." You may have one piece
of candy if you eat all your oatmeal."

The instant the sock was flung into the trash, I knew it was Palmer. I wriggled over
to him, we clung together, trembling with fear, as Paige's mom closed the cupboard
door and walked away, humming.

Not so bad this month....

Thu, 21 Sep 2006 18:48:27 GMT

It's not every month that PMS & The Period are horrible. Sometimes, there's no bloating, no cramping, no mood swings. I like those. Just like the one I'm having now. If all My periods were like this, I wouldn't mind that Week.

Like the Always slogan says... "Have a Happy Period".

Making jam (ie: using out-of-date Certo)

Tue, 19 Sep 2006 17:19:26 GMT

Well, this will be of particular interest to aberrantmist... the blueberry jam we made on Sunday kinda turned out funny. It took too well. I had some on Sunday evening, and the bottle that I sample from was tasty, but nearly impossible to spread. It just ... gelled... really hard.

I'm going to blame it on the Certo (pectin) that was outdated by 2 years.

Now My questions are:

- Can I do something to it to soften it up, so it's spreadable?
- If I can't do anything about it, what can I make with this jam so that I don't waste all these berries?

aberrantmist had offered to help clean out My cupboards of old baking goods. I think that's a good plan. I know that I have some cornmeal that's at least 2 years old, uncooked kidney beans in a jar that are at least that old, and high-fibre cereals that I wanted to incorporate with some home baking and THAT cereal is anywhere from 1-3 yrs old. I see a weekend of cooking & baking coming up soon. ;-)

True Canadianisms

Tue, 12 Sep 2006 16:22:16 GMT

Got this from a friend at work today *snicker*

25 Signs Showing You Might Be Canadian

1. You're not offended by the term "HOMO MILK".

2. You understand the phrase, "Could you pass me a serviette, I just dropped my poutine, on the chesterfield."

3. You eat chocolate bars, not candy bars.

4. You drink Pop, not Soda.

5. You know that a Mickey and 24's mean: "Party at the camp, eh!!!"

6. You don't care about the fuss with Cuba. It's a cheap place to go for your holidays, with good cigars.

7. You know that a pike is a type of fish, not part of a highway.

8. You drive on a highway, not a freeway.

9. You have Canadian Tire money in your kitchen drawers.

10. You know that Casey and Finnegan were not part of a Celtic musical group.

11. You get excited whenever an American television show mentions Canada.

12. You brag to Americans that: Shania Twain, Jim Carrey, Celine Dion & Mike Myers are Canadians.

13. You know that the CEO of American Airlines is a Canadian!

14. You know what a toque is.

15. You design your Halloween costume to fit over a snowsuit.

16. You know that the last letter of the English alphabet is always pronounced "Zed".

17. Your local newspaper covers the national news on 2 pages, but requires 6 pages for hockey.

18. You know that the four seasons mean: Almost winter, winter, still winter, and road work.

19. You know that when it's 25 degrees outside, it's a warm day.

20. You understand the Labatt Blue commercials.

21. You know how to pronounce and spell "Saskatchewan".

22. You perk up when you hear the theme song from 'Hockey Night in Canada'.

23. You are in grade 12, not the 12th grade.

24. "Eh?" is a very important part of your vocabulary, and is more polite than, "Huh?"

Link dump

Tue, 29 Aug 2006 18:31:40 GMT

I just couldn't pass this up for sharing. *snicker*

How To Write the Ultimate Chick Flick.

*snicker*

High school reunion

Sun, 27 Aug 2006 13:06:55 GMT

Last night, He & I attended My 20-yr high school reunion. In a nutshell, it was a disappointment. Although I recognized a few faces, there weren't many who attended, out of a class of 380. I had ONE friend that I wanted to see who showed up. The reunion was at a restaurant-tavern in Moncton, and although the trip there & back was ok, the reunion itself was quite a bore. Even My friend echoed My disappointment. However, I did get to talk to her, which was great. We caught up on happenings, talked about a few of the friends we hadn't seen in years, and talked a little about our old school.

But the person who shined the most last night was Him.

I graduated from a French high school, and He doesn't speak the language at all. Most of the people there pretty much spoke in French, and I knew He was bored, but He didn't show it. He really is a great guy.

There's talk of having a 25-yr reunion, but unless it's planned better and more people that I knew back then attend, I think I'll stay home.

It was just an awful reminder of how much I wanted to move past My teen years.

Trying to get back to regular eating patterns

Wed, 23 Aug 2006 14:03:59 GMT

I only tend to think about food issues when I'm on PMS. Unfortunately.

I want to get back to My regular eating patterns again, and soon. It feels like I've been slipping away from the resolutions I'd made to never go back to My top weight through food choices. Although I don't think I've actually gained any weight this summer, I know that I haven't lost much, if at all, either.

So, to help get back on track, last month, I bought one of the books of the "diet" that I liked the most. Diet isn't the right word, but My brain's just too locked into PMS to think of the right word. I've been doing the Somersizing plan for over 4 yrs now, and I've had, and still have, quite a bit of success with it. Except that the success since the initial 6 months has been slow. Changing My ways of thinking in regards to food is not an overnight task.

Before I decided to lose weight over 4 years ago, My sister had loaned Me one of the Somersizing books (by Suzanne Somers, if you haven't figured it out by now), and I read through it. All of it. Recipes included. I was impressed, but not ready to commit to such a lifestyle change just yet. Then He & I went on a vacation, and some events during the vacation made Me change My mind.

For anyone who's ever been a part of a 12-step recovery program knows that one has to reach the "bottom", one has to be as low as one can get, before being ready to accept change. But I've also heard others tell Me that they "brought the bottom up" to where they were, because although it could get worse, they weren't willing to let it get that bad. That's what happened to Me during the vacation.

I don't regret the changes, not in the least. But sometimes I wish it were a little easier to stick to the eating plan, as well as get My ass off the chair and get more exercise. I've seen proof that both work really well for My overall well-being, and when it works, it really works all together. Except for the housework. Well, I'm sure I could come up with other excuses, but bottom line, it often feels like I don't have the time to accomplish all the things that need to be done and some of the things I'd like to do.

I've come to the conclusion that most of the exercise that I am willing to do comes in the form of yardwork. I dislike walking just for the sake of walking, but I'm not opposed to walking across town to run an errand, as long as time permits. Walking while I mow the lawn is great, because it doesn't feel like walking. I'd like to find another form of exercise that doesn't feel like exercise, and where I accomplish something useful while exercising. I feel like I need to multitask when exercising. I'm still working on that one.

As far as the food plan goes, I've done a lot of research on this, and I've come to the conclusion that I prefer the low-carb lifestyle over any other. Somersizing allows Me to eat well and do the low-carb plan, while still getting the grains and dairy that I need (and want) (it's closer to food-combining than actual low-carb). I don't miss things like potatoes and corn and white bread & pasta, like I used to... I actually find them rather bland now, and they no longer hold as much taste appeal as they used to. But when most of the quick foods We used to eat for supper are made from these products, it makes it more difficult to be creative with meals, so as not to be bored with what's still permissible. However, I have come up with one recipe that I really like, and don't get bored with, as a side dish for supper.

Low-carb pan-fried veggies with cheese sauce

1 cup fresh or canned veggies (I like canned mushrooms, but bell peppers and onions work really well too)
1 Tbsp butter or olive oil
2 Tbsp cream cheese (Kraft makes really nice flavoured ones, like Roasted Garlic and Sundried Tomatoes)
2-3 Tbsp heavy (whipping) cream
Spices to taste (garlic, parsley, chili powder, basil, oregano, etc.)

In a non-stick pan, heat oil and spices until just hot. Over medium heat, add veggies, and pan fry until caramelization just starts. Add cream cheese on top of veggies, cover for 2 minutes. Remove cover and blend the cheese with the veggies. Stir in cream. Turn heat down to low, cover with a screen mesh (those metal mesh covers for frying work well) and gently let bubble for 5 mins. Stir to blend cheese with cream. If the sauce is too thin for your taste, simmer another 5-10 mins; if sauce is too thick, add a little more cream and heat until well-blended. Serve warm. Makes 1-2 side dish servings.

I've modified this recipe several times over, such as adding a few tablespoons of Parmesan or grated Cheddar or Mozzerella cheese after the first 5 mins of simmering. Havarti is a really nice addition too, especially if it's a flavoured Havarti. I like this side dish with just about any of the meats that I prepare, and if I'm having leftover meat, and the meat is a little tough, I'll add it to the pan with the veggies to soften the meat, and add extra flavour to the sauce. Yes, it's a really rich sauce, but that's the beauty of eating low-carb... no sugar, but oils can be used as a flavour enhancer.

Where are all the good drugs?!

Tue, 22 Aug 2006 13:33:17 GMT

I'm whiney today. I'd rather be home and sulking with My blankie than being at work. Sleep would be a good thing, too.

The blue pill is helping, but marginally. At least I'm not all cramped over My desk.

Yet.

How does one...?

Mon, 14 Aug 2006 18:33:46 GMT

... manage to teach the body to live on less sleep than it's already used to getting?

It irritates Me that I need 8-9 hrs sleep nightly, while loved ones around Me (including Him) only require 6-7. I feel like I'm missing out on so much in the evenings, because I'm in bed by 10pm.

I'm open to suggestions, but caffeine can't be a part of those suggestions. ;-)

Lesson learned!

Fri, 04 Aug 2006 14:45:30 GMT

Sometimes I need to be hit over the head with a 2x4 for something to finally sink in. And sometimes that 2x4 comes in the form of a burned scalp.

I had decided that I would use a temporary hair colour kit that I'd purchased about 18 mos. ago last weekend. Colour turned out nice, and I knew that My scalp would be itchy, but I didn't expect this. My scalp is burned from ear to ear, and forehead to nape of neck. It's starting to heal now, but before it started healing, I had another reaction.

Because the itching was bad enough when going to bed, I opted to take a Benadryl, so that I wouldn't scratch in the middle of the night. Actually, I took 2. The next morning (Wednesday), My face puffed out... bad enough that it freaked out everyone in the office. No trouble breathing, but the area around the sinuses was quickly puffing up. No itchiness around the swollen areas (I think it's due to excess skin that hasn't receeded yet from My weight loss), but it was interesting to peek through big cheeks again.

I called the dial-a-nurse line, and she suggested taking more Benadryl. I've since asked a few more nurses about this, and Benadryl shouldn't react this way, so they're telling Me to keep taking the Benadryl. But I've stopped taking it, and the swelling is going down. It's not all gone yet, but since this weekend is a holiday weekend, I don't plan to take any more. And I think I'll dunk My skull into a big bowl of skin moisturizer, just so I can stop feeling the itchy feeling, if only for a few hours.

The skin is starting to peel now, so it looks like I have bad dandruff, especially since I'm wearing a black top today. *rolling eyes*

Live & learn.... *sigh* ... the hard way.

Holy Thunderstorms, Batman!

Wed, 26 Jul 2006 13:08:52 GMT

I enjoy lightening and thunderstorms, as does He. But only when We're awake. Last night, the first t-storm started around 11:30pm, about an hour after I finally fell asleep, and about a half hour after He'd come to bed "to get an extra hour of sleep". Yeah, right.

The bang woke Us both up, and as I rushed to the computer to shut it down, the thundercracks were getting louder and the floor shook with the rumbling. I'm surprised the dog didn't crawl into bed with Us, the rumblings were that intense.

The second t-storm started around 2:30 with another loud bang. The rain didn't start for another 10 minutes, and the lightening/thunder was getting really close. One particular bang left Me with the impression that it hit less than a mile from home. I thought the big maple tree in the back yard might get hit and crash onto the house, and into the bedroom or the bathroom, it was that close.

And the rain!! I thought We'd need an ark before morning!

Global warming, anyone?

Filtering -- trying it out

Mon, 24 Jul 2006 14:41:07 GMT

Some of this LJ stuff isn't hard, it's just hard to remember where everything is!

I'm creating a bdsm filter, so let Me know if you would like to be a part of that filter. If you can read this post, then you're already on the filter.

And if the bdsm filter doesn't quite float your boat, I do have a Friends filter, and if you'd like to be on that one, let Me know. If you can read this post, then you're on the Friends filter already, too.

Bed-shopping

Thu, 20 Jul 2006 17:33:50 GMT

Well, after 10 years, Our old mattress is finally giving out. It's not uncommon for the middle springs to poke at a rib during the night, and since I sleep on My side, My arms and shoulders go numb from the sagging middle.

So, I've been checking out Sears to see how expensive it's going to be. While I would love to have one of the more expensive mattress sets, We just can't afford it right now. But there are a couple of options. While looking at the different types of mattresses, I found that Sears has a lot of information when it comes to buying sleep sets and replacements. Check out Anatomy of a Sleep Set, among other things. While there isn't quite enough information to decide which one to get without trying it out, at least I'm finding all kinds of information through the Sears website.

We might purchase through Sears, but I think I'll insist that We check out other furniture stores in the area, like Worrall's and Daley's.

At this point, it would be nice to have a full night's sleep.

Finally, the end of the week!!

Fri, 14 Jul 2006 18:33:19 GMT

Friday couldn't come soon enough this week. Between the hot & humid nights, the mosquitoes that hover around the face as We try to sleep, and the dryer just up & quitting last night, I think We're ready for a couple of wine coolers tonight.

The dryer looks like it needs a new belt, and a new wheel. He managed to buy both parts today... now the tricky part is to hook everything back up. Hopefully it will all work.

Keep your fingers crossed. I don't have a clothes line.

Just a test

Wed, 05 Jul 2006 19:26:04 GMT

Just testing to see what the avatar looks like.