Friday, January 26, 2007

Excuse me, that was my HEAD.

A long time ago I had a friend whose mother could not resist a stray dog. Now mind you, some of these dogs weren't even strays, but maybe wandered from their yard a moment too long, but that is a story for another day. We were there one day when she walked in, and plopped a fawn pug puppy down on one of us and disappeared into the basement (where she spent almost all her time, when she wasn't working or 'rescuing' dogs).




We didn't know that was what it was at the time, but that puppy was absolutely hilarious. It had no concept of personal space, and thought nothing about taking a shortcut across your face to get to a different lap. And it used to carry around a bottle cap all the time. They only had it a few days (the owners eventually figured out who had their dog) but it made quite an impression on me. It was probably an underlying layer of why I wanted to get Ruby.

I have met many more pugs since then, and I think this disregard for life or limb when it comes to their own comfort or wiles seems to be an inbred traight. If Ruby wants something over THERE and you (or your body parts) are in the way, she just tromps right across like a mountain goat. She thinks nothing of walking across the coffee table like EVERYBODY walks on coffee tables and I can not tell you the blinding pain of having a dog built like a cinder block with tiny feet step on your hair while you are laying down. You can't even reach her to get her off, and if you screech she gets scared and SITS DOWN. Still pinning you by your hair, and more likely than not that pug butt gets planted right on your head. Even more horrifying is when she finally understands and moves away, but climbs ACROSS your face. Nothing like the warm underbelly of a pug sliding across your face in the wee hours of the morning, after the rude awakending of having your hair torn out.

This morning, Ruby got all huffy because DH had the hallway light on, and tried to turn away from it. She planted her paw right in the middle of my FOREHEAD to turn herself. Grinding those little toes right into me as she did it. MY FOREHEAD. Is nothing sacred at ALL, I asked her? She answered by deftly sticking her tongue up my nose. While I recoiled she took the chance to give me a good snotting then 'twirled' on my pillow. "Twirling" is how Ruby scratches the butt that she cannot reach. On my pillow. The rudeness of it all. Dh gave me a bewildered look, as I stomped downstairs half asleep, in the dim grey light of TOO EARLY to toss my pillow into the washing machine. Sure, a normal person would settle for washing just the pillow case. But this was a stinky fish-oil pug butt, and I am not that normal.

Looking at it now, a few hours later, I find it funny. In fact, when I went back to proof read I almost made MYSELF spit coffee. But it isn't so funny that I forgive her totally yet.

Aw, wh0 could be mad at that face?


Thursday, January 25, 2007

Testing testing 1 2 3!

Sheesh. I finally decide to move over to the new blogger, and it takes me all day to log in. I was beginning to get pretty worried. The most important news item today, is that in a fit of pique (after making like six mistakes) I am abandoning the mitten. I will use the pattern, but that yarn sucked rocks. One colour was a wool blend, the other was a rainbow acrylic and the two mixed together was starting to feel pretty barfy. Plus they were slightly different weights and it wasn't very complimentary. The pattern was fine and I am excited to start again. DD liked the bit that was done (two inches of a ribbed cuff) and wants it as a wristband lol. To each their own. Next on the list, is my opinion on dark chocolate M&M's. Now, for all intents and purposes I really should like these. I like M&M's in general. The chocolate inside is richer than most milk chocolate products and I think that is why I like them. Not LOVE them, like them. Since hearing about the dark chocolate ones, I have kept my eyes open but was unable to find them here. My parents gave them to me for christmas. And I am not even halfway done the bag. The candy is fine, the chocolate is fine. But I don't know. They are too rich to toss in by the handful. And the chocolate is rich enough that after one or two eaten slowly that is enough. But, in general, I am kind of indifferent about them. Like they should be called Dark Chocolate "Meh's". DH keeps offering to take them off my hands, but I don't mind having them around for those times when you just HAVE to have something chocolate and don't want to raid the baking supplies for chocolate chips. That has to be it for today (earth shattering, eh? An unsolicited junk food review and mitten news) because we errands to run tonight and I have some things left to do for work.

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

What's your vertex?

It has finally come to this. We have reached the point where our child is smarter than we are. Oh, I knew the day would come. But not when she was SEVEN! I thought I had a few more years at least. I have never been good with math and geometry. Numbers and space? Not good. We can add history and geography to that list as well. Dates are, after all numbers and it doesn't get any more spatial than geography. When it came to homework though, I figured I was good to go until DD had to do fractions. Because I don't do fractions. Inverting and all that. Ask me why I hate trying to halve recipes. What is half of an 1/8 of a cup? And if you say 1/16 I will pinch you because how much is THAT?!?!?! My darling husband finds it absolutely hilarious when I measure out something, weigh it, then take half the weight instead of trying to figure out the fractions. At least I try, right? DD brought home a single sheet of homework last night. It had two groups of shapes, and you were supposed to say what they had in common and why they were alike (now, isn't that the same question anyway??). Next you had to suggest which group a few other shapes would go into. Sound simple enough? Well for the first group I think it was. There were cylanders and spheres and cones in different sizes. Our decision was they all had rounded edges and could roll. The next group had 2 cylanders of different types, a rectangle, that thing that looks sort of like a rectangle but has three long sides and a triangle at the ends (which my snotty daughter informed me was a "triangular prism" while rolling her eyes at me), and a prism set on it's point. I have absolutely no idea why they are alike. I showed DH the sheet, because he claims to be a geometry miracle. I should have known we were sunk when he kept referring to the sphere as "that ball thing" and insisted they were alike because there were two groups of three. Except for the two ball things and that other thing that had four (?!?). Yeah. That's a pattern alright. Much smarter than our discovery that they all had rounded edges. Sometimes they learn context in the lesson that we don't know at home, and many times it has helped us puzzle these things out. DD was adamant that there was no lesson and she had no idea what to do with the paper. You know, we don't do her homework for her. But a few times a week she brings home these "home connection" sheets where we are all supposed to work on them together as a family. And can I just say, I kind of resent them. I never had any idea what we are supposed to be doing with them. Or if they are supposed to be handed back at all. What kind of credit is she getting for this, if others are supposed to be directly involved? Is it right to mark a child on the willingness or ability of her family to participate in an exercise? Am I saying all this to mask the fact that I was bested by a grade 2 homework sheet? Sigh. We also got a nice reprimand from the school regarding DD not having gym shoes and being forced to sit out of gym. As I read the note, DD slowly made her way upstairs. By the time I was done, she was hiding in her closet. I opened the door, and there she sat, covered by her princess costume and holding about 25 stuffed animals. Perhaps she figured I would never murdalize a princess protecting babies, who knows. What I DO know, is that this child has a pair of gym shoes that have been in her locker ready and waiting to be worn. This sort of thing has happened before. Not handing in homework that was in her bag. Not bringing home a library book. She claims to forget, or says she ran out of time, that sort of thing. We had a good long talk. And while I didn't murdalize her, she knows what the punishment will be if she misses gym class again for no good reason. In knitting news, I have decided to make myself a few things. First, a scarf of silk. This stuff is wonderously soft, and I love the sheen. This is a twisted stitch chart from one of the Barbara Walker treasuries, simply repeated three times across. I am also starting some fair aisle mittens, which were a two day swatching episode. I think I am on track now. The last is a tank top for myself that I need to swatch, no picture or anything yet.

Monday, January 22, 2007

Pass the bleach

DD has been sick since last Wednesday. She went to school today, but she still has that cough. And I hate to sound like a bad and uncaring mommy, but seeing as she hasn't been but two feet away from me since then that cough is starting to wear thin. She has a habit of coughing once right in my face, then remembering and covering her mouth for the next one. I feel like I have been bathed in the plague. Then last night, we went out to dinner with DH's family (two birthdays) and I was seated across from another plague carrier who coughed all over the table, me, my food, my coffee. I am not kidding, loud hacking coughs NO ATTEMPT TO COVER THE MOUTH and this is an adult. She coughed directly on my plate as the waiter put it down. I couldn't even bring myself to push it away, let alone eat it. At that point I had managed to protect my coffee well enough, when to my horror she grabbed my spoon, stirred her own drink with it, LICKED IT OFF, then deftly dropped the spoon into my cup. I do believe if you could have opened my brain at that moment, you would have seen a mess of sparking wires and a big ole exclamation mark (like in the cartoons). In my defence my security was temporarily disabled because I was cutting DD's chicken when she did it. The final straw was when they had ordered dessert, and she started laughing, then choking, then coughing and literally coughed a big blob of ice cream onto my face. I kid you not. It flew across the table and landed on my FACE. I jumped up like I had been burned, my chair flew out behind me and the table moved up a few inches. The din of the room stopped immediately (I think it was the sound of my chair scraping across the floor. Or it could be the big, shocked intake of breath DH made when he saw it happen) and everybody was staring at me. I couldn't say anything, all I could do was run to the bathroom. I won't go into details about the scrubbing that ensued. Suffice it to say that I won't be needing a chemical peel any time soon. When I finally came out, DH was at the bathroom door with my coat and purse. The car and the child were ready. "I figured you would be ready to go home about now". He was pretty right about that. The person doing the coughing is the same person who stood and ate out of the dishes at DD's party (it was served buffet style) and again at an event at the Hospice. They put out coffee and cookies and fruit trays, and she stood there and ate off the trays (even taking a bite of something and putting it back) rather than taking a few things on a plate. Not to mention hooting and saying "Hoo, that cookie was DRY. Don't take one of those. It's so DRY" as she put her finger right on one of them on a platter. She poked melon cubes with her finger looking for soft ones too. She can be nice enough (except when something upsets her and she can be quite deranged) but she has no concept of personal space or basic hygiene. I am not talking hand washing or body odour, but more along the lines of sharing bodily fluids with unwilling bystanders. There were several messages on the answering machine already when we got home, mostly accusing me of ruining the evening because I left "early". Early my butt, they were done and one of them was already sitting in the car. This one guy, the minute he finishes eating (and he eats his entire meal in three bites) he will go sit in the car by himself. No, he is not a child. He's 45. They wanted us to join them for dessert at one of their houses (they already had dessert at the restaurant, but they are sugar fiends) and I told dh he can go but I am certainly not, and DD didn't want to go without me. He said "I can't go by myself. They'll ask too many questions. What would I say?". I suggested 'kiss my arse and pass the bleach' but apparently that is not appropriate ;).