We've Had Visitors!

Spring is still springing around our house.  There are so many cool things to see and hear and smell!  I swear, it just smells better out in the country.  You know, aside from manure spreading season.  First my crab apple tree was perfuming the air, now it's the lilacs.  It's lovely.  Things are blooming everywhere.

We have also had some visitors:

This little lovely has been hanging around for a couple weeks.  I think it's burrow is in a stand of trees out on the front lawn.  We haven't had as many bunnies this year as we did last year when they were breeding like, well, rabbits!  I think I'll name it, "Bunny".

This lovely Luna Month made an appearance!  You can see by the regular sized month beside it, just how big it was!  I think it was a female.  She hung out for the whole day and flew off sometime in the night.  Apparently sightings are pretty rare because they only live for about a week! 

I think I'll name her, "Mothy"

This unwanted guest also made an appearance.  Why was she unwanted?  Because she is a huge ass spider and is therefore terrifying.  Her body was the size of the end of my baby finger and her legs stretched out wider than a twoonie!

Now, I'm not a spider murderer, but there was no way I could relax under my umbrella with that hanging over my head.  Nope.  Now way. Not gonna happen.  So, I grabbed the broom from our fireplace set and swept her off.  We were three floors up on my balcony, but it looked like she had a soft enough landing.  Bleh!  I named her, "Holyshitwhatthefuck"!

And finally, this happened this week:

No, we were not shearing sheep.  I asked my husband to "Fur-minate" Bernie, our pug.  There is enough hair here to stuff a pillow!  The best part.  He left this hair all over the lawn.  Forever.  He never cleaned it up!!  Nice.  Then it rained!  Swell.  I finally went out yesterday and cleaned it up. Sigh!

So that's what's up around here.  Stay tuned for more news about our robin and her eggs!

Later!

Michy

My First Mamm-Ow-Gram!

So, I had my check-up last month.  All's well you know, other than the usual warning about my weight, (love hearing that), my complaining about my aches and pains and the embarrassment of having forgotten to shave my legs and armpits.  Nothing like having to strip naked for a thorough inspection when you look like Sasquatch.  At least I got to skip the PAP test.  Apparently the province thinks my ovaries are only worth a glance every three years now, so bully for me.

I did, however get some interesting news.  Turns out I am now, "of an age", when regular breast cancer screening begins.  That's right, it's time for my first Mammogram. Interesting.  Not sure how I feel about that.  Old.  Yes, that's it.  I feel old.

What I did not feel was particularly worried.  While the idea of having ones bussoms compressed down to resemble a pancake may frighten some women, my breasts are really not that far off from this aesthetic to begin with.  Take that all my firm, perky breasted friends!  Ha ha!  Who's getting the last laugh now!  Whhaaaaaahahahahaha!

OK.  I got that out of my system.  So, me and my sweet mammary-jammas showed up for my designated appointment without a care in the world.  I was checked in, waited 1/2 hour and, when my name was called, I was led through the labyrinth that is Merivale Medical Imaging.  I was shown to a changing room where I donned a lovely paper robe.  As I was changing I noticed the walls of the changing room were adorned with the expected posters giving directions on how to do a self-exam.  I was pretty sure I already knew how to do this, however, there seem to be a couple of tips I missed.

Arms up. Arms down. Circle left. Circle right.  Lie down.  On your side. Stand up. Lean forward.  One more move and we'll have some buck hip hop choreography!  There was also notes on what to look out for.  Lumps, (obviously), pitting, (like dimples?). Drippy nipples? (Ew!).  At that point I thought I had learned enough.

I exited the changing room and was then ushered aboard the Starship Enterprise. Oh wait.  It was the mammogram room.  Holy crap!  This stuff is seriously high tech!

Mood lighting and everything!

I must say, the technician was a lovely lady.  Very pleasant and straightforward. Explained everything well.  She even told me, "this isn't going to feel very pleasant".  Still, I was not worried.  What I did not expect is just how "handsy" the whole procedure was.  My, my!  My boobs got more attention in those 10 minutes then they have in the last 10 years! So much pulling and rubbing and flattening and aligning.  Goodness, she was thorough!  

So, squish number one.  Good ole' Righty was up and she performed like a champ.  Yes, she did get squashed.  No, I did not think it was possible for human tissue to be so pliable.  But all in all, no great problems.  Lefty was up next.

Now, if my boobs had personalities, Righty would be the happy-go-lucky, easy to please type.  You know, a real go with the flow kinda gal, (insert breastfeeding joke here).  Now Lefty, well, Lefty is like the bitter old crone that stands on her front porch and yells, "get off my lawn"!!!  Every month (wink), Lefty decides to get extra cranky and bitchy, aka swollen and sore, and just generally be a huge pain in the breast.  Today was one of those days.  She didn't appreciate all the manhandling and she let it be known, believe me! 

Righty                                                       Lefty

But she made it through and I thought we were in the clear.  All done!  Super Mamma-Jammaries!  Then my lovely technician explained that she was going to do a vertical scan.

Um, what?  You've mashed them flat, now you're going to crush them standing up.  The ef lady??  But what am I gonna do.  She literally has my tits in a vice.  I'm not goin' anywhere.

So vertically actually means on kind of a diagonal. I was once again smoothed and stretched into position and then she started compressing the two glass plates together. Dayum!  It's like she was pressing olives or something!  Even sweet little Righty wasn't having a super great time.  The technician tells me to hold my breath and not breathe while she takes the shot.  No problem.  She came back and released the glass plates and Righty sprung forth like a virgins corset on her wedding night!

Then came Lefty.  

Already unhappy with the previous procedure, I was sure Lefty wasn't going to be pleased with this new turn of events.

And I was right.

Holymotherfuckinghell!!!!!!!!!!!  When those plates smashed together I was sure, 100% positive that my boob was going to explode.  I was just waiting for it.  I was picturing in my head, this grotesque mess all over this high tech spaceship room. "Hold your breath and don't move", said the technician.  

Not.   A.   Problem.  

Pain was exploding all over.  Well, not all over.  All over my boob!  I couldn't move.  I couldn't breath.  Lefty was howling at the top of her nipple, waving her cane and drooling on her house dress and fuzzy slippers.  The pain was so bad I didn't know if I was gonna cry or full out panic, when the technician came over and said, "all done".  Thank you Jesus!

I cannot quite describe the relief I felt when she released me from her high tech torture device.  I felt like I had just survived something.  You know?  Like when someone says, "I survived a house fire", or "I survived the Titanic".  Well, I survived my mammogram.

I don't know how often I need to repeat this procedure.  I don't see why my breasts have to get any more attention than my ovaries.  Doesn't seem fair, does it?  And speaking of not fair, why isn't this the way we test for testicular cancer??  Only seems fair to me boys.

Until then, peace out and love your boobies!

Michy

So this is Happening . . .

So this is happening . . .

Awesome!!  A robin has made nest under our deck and three wee ones are on the way!  She built it on Uncle Matt's workshop heater which we had hung up under the deck last winter in an attempt to warm up the path too and from the hot tub.  It didn't work and I was gonna take it down, but I didn't get around to it and now I'll have to wait.  I don't think that the robin is super happy with the location she chose.  Every time I come out the patio door she bolts from the nest and flies across the yard.  Scares the crap out of me every time, even though, by now, I know it's coming.  The neighbors must think I'm some kind of super evangelical christian, because every time I come outside and the bird scares me I yell, "Jesus Christ"!!  Sorry Jesus.  I love your nature.  I'm sure this isn't the same robin that flew in my open car window and shat all over my dashboard.  Ya, that happened too.

This is also happening . . .

My crab apple tree is in full boom!  It smells so good. Look at that big fat bumblebee doing its pollinating thing!  There are so many bees in the tree right now you can hear it buzzing when you walk by.   There is also a bit of a nasty caterpillar nest on one of the branches.  That will NOT be happening.  It will be removed tomorrow.  Yuck!

And, my veggie garden is coming along.  I have my tomatoes, herbs and peppers planted.  my zucchini, cucumbers, peas and beans are coming up along with my arugula and beets, but, sadly, no romaine lettuce yet.

I'm gonna have to put my critter netting over everything soon or the animals will come eat everything before it even has a chance to grow!

Well, that's it for now.  I will keep updating regularly, so keep checking back!

Michy

Cue Noah.  There's Been a Flood!

So, spring is here and I'm as happy as a housewife in garden dirt.  Finally I can get to all those gardening and yard care plans I've been brewing up all winter.  The inside of the house is sparkling. Took care of that with a couple weeks of intensive spring cleaning, so, for the next few months my time will be divided between tidying, writing and working in the great outdoors!  That was the plan anyway.

So, how did fate, that bitter hag, throw a big ole monkey wrench into my plans??  Well, May 12th was cruising right along according to plan.  I spent the day bouncing between computer work in our basement home office and, when that got boring, working outside in the yard until the old back started aching.  Repeat.

I was working on a long computer stint when I looked out the window and saw the old compost bin sitting there under a cluster of evergreens.  This bin was created by the previous home owners out of two old doors that they cut in half and screwed together to form a big box.  It was starting to fall apart a bit and, like so many things they did in the garden that were just wrong, it was situated entirely in the shade.  Well, this would simply not do.  Time for a computer break!!!  Outside to the sunshine to relocate and repair the compost bin.

On the whole it was a pleasant enough job.  Took about half an hour. Got to use my power drill.  The bin is now in a much better spot and has been repaired so that it will stand up to many years of composting yet to come. With the satisfaction of a job well done, and a bit of a well earned tan, I packed up my tools and headed back into the house.  As I entered the basement I realized it was raining.  No.  Not outside.  Inside.  The inside of my basement was raining.  Check that, pouring.  Honestly it took me a good thirty seconds to even comprehend what was happening.  I dropped the drill and box of screws and did one of those Macauly Culkin screams from Home Alone.

 

Water was pouring from eight separate pot lights and the smoke detector.  Not dribbling or dripping.  Pouring!  It was running down the walls where they met the ceiling.  Paint was bubbling up and the window and door trim caulking was swelling and breaking.  There was half an inch of water on one side of the room on the floor.  I ran upstairs.  Where was this water coming from??  What the hell was going on??  The living room and kitchen where completely dry, which was very confusing, but the master bedroom floor had an inch of water on the floor.  I ran into the mater bath, and there I found the source of the problem.  The shower stall had filled up and the water was spilling out all over the floor, out the door, into the bedroom and down to the basement underneath.

Oh my God!!  WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatdoIdo?WhatthefuckdoIdo?????  Well, I did what every other pathetically unprepared woman does in an emergency.  I called a man.  Yes that's right.  I'm not proud of it, but in my haste to make our house pretty since we moved in, it never occurred to my to figure out stuff like, you know, HOW THE FUCK TO TURN OFF THE WATER!!!!!  So I called my husband at work.  The following is a transcript of our conversation taken from my very accurate memory:

Jake:  Hello

Me (bawling):  YOU NEED TO COME HOME RIGHT NOW!!!!

J:  Why?  Whats the matter?

M:  THE HOUSE IS FLOODING!!  THERE'S WATER EVERYWHERE!

J:  Whaddaya mean?

M:  (Getting shrill) Whaddaya mean "whaddaya mean"??  There's water everywhere!  The shower overflowed and there's water all over the bedroom and its pouring into the basement!  How do I turn the water off???!!

J:  How did the shower overflow?

M (running around the house like a mad woman):  I don't know!  How do I turn off the water??

J:  Well, how much water is there?

I have just run into the laundry room in the basement.  Water is pouring out of the ceiling through a trapdoor and filling up the florescent light covers.  The floor is underwater and all the laundry is soaked.

M: OH MY GOD!  HOW DO YOU TURN IT OFF!!!!!!!?

He did not seem to be understanding the urgency of the situation.  Since none of his myriad of questions were able to help me I decided to hang up on him and go get some real help.  I dropped the phone and ran for the neighbors.  Now, living on a two acre lot is fabulous, until your house is filling up with water and you don't know how to stop it and you have to sprint across those two acres searching for help.  I made like Usain Bolt over to Randy's house only to discover nobody was home.  Shit, shit, shit.  At this point I really wish I had taken the time, when we moved in, to meet more of the neighbors. I "Usain'ed" over to the neighbor across the road and rang the bell.  By the time I got there I was so out of breath I could hardly talk.  Really gotta work on that cardio.  A lovely couple answered the door.  I was literally bent over gasping for breath.  I looked up at them with tears in my eyes.

"Hi! (gasp, pant, pant).  I'm Michelle, (huff, puff) your neighbor from across the road,(huff, puff). Do, (huff, puff) either of you, (huff, puff) know anything, (huff, puff) about water? (pant, pant, pant)  Because my house is flooding (huff, puff) right now!!! (gasp, pant, pant).

Well, lucky for me Mike did in fact know something about water.  He grabbed his shoes and toolbox and we raced back to my house.  His first question to me was, "where's the water shut off?"  Well, Mike, if I knew that I wouldn't need you now would I?  He identified the water pump, but it had no on/off button and no plug so we didn't know how to turn it off.  Finally I yelled, "circuit board"!! I am a genius.  So, while we never did shut off the water, at least we shut off the pump so it stopped filling up the shower.  Then we dashed back through the rainstorm and headed for the bathroom.  Mike asked for a plunger and started plunging out the shower drain.  He was standing with his jeans rolled up, up to his ankles in cold water, in his bare feet, plunging away when the hubby called back. 

J:  What's going on??

M:  We shut off the pump and drained the shower.  You need to come home!!  

I looked at the bedroom floor covered in water.

M (sobbing):  I can't do this by myself!!!

J:  Well, I can't get a bus at this hour. (1:30 in the afternoon)

Well, I can see your problem dear.  It's not like the bus runs 24 HOURS A DAY!!!!!!!  My inner indignant black woman came screaming out.  

M:  What the hhheeeelllllll are you talking about?  You can't get no bus in the city, in the middle of the day!  YOU BETTER GET YO ASS HOME SO I CAN WHUP IT!  I cannot do this by myself!  The basement ceiling is frickin' raining!!

Then my loving spouse comes up with this super idea.

J:  Just get a little saw and cut a whole in the ceiling so all the water drains out.

Clearly I have not effectively communicated to him the scope of the problem. 

"There is no need, dear", I said, "to cut a hole in the ceiling.  The water is already pouring out of all the holes that are already in the ceiling!!!  Another one isn't going to help!!!

I hung up on him again.  I can only take so much ya know.

I ran back to Mike and the plunger.  We heard a big clog break loose.  Sounded like a groundhog was stuck in there.  Suddenly the water started to drain.  Hallelujah!

Mike and I stood there for a few minutes just watching the water recede into the drain.  It felt like we'd just disarmed a nuclear bomb.  Mike packed up his tools and headed home now that the threat was over.  Relief was flooding through me.  Until I looked around.  There was still and inch of water on the floor.  I could still hear it pouring into the basement.  How does a person clean something like that up.  I only had one roll of paper towels left, and I think this a little more that Bounty could handle.

I called the hubby for advice.  He offered this fine nugget:

J:  Get the dustpan from the kitchen and scoop the water into a bucket.

A dustpan.  And a bucket.  And just like The Champ I looossee it!  I aggressively suggested to my beloved that if he wished to remain my ever loving spouse, he would immediately take his person over to his friend Steve's desk and kindly request an emergency ride home so that he might assist in the clean up effort.

Turns out, the dustpan was an ok idea.  I used it to shovel water out the bedroom door and onto the deck.  I stuffed about twenty bath towels under the bed to soak up the water, and twenty pounds of dog hair and dust bunnies, that was pooling there.  I squeegeed water off the bathroom floor and back into the shower and I called a friend to bring me her shop vac so I could suck the water up in the basement.  My friend helped me drag all the wet carpets, towels and clothes outside.  She walked by me carrying a huge basket of soaking wet clothes and said, "it was very smart of you to put these on the floor to soak up the water".  Riiiiiiight.  That's why they were there.

All in all, by the time that my hubby got home the bedroom and bathroom were dry and the ceiling was only dripping a tiny bit.  He walked in, looked around and said, "doesn't really look that bad to me".  His funeral is on Wednesday.

Michy

It's Garden Season!!!!!

Sooo excited folks!  The sun is shining in my little corner of Canada.  The breeze is warm.  The frogs and birds are chirping.  Ahhhhh!  Best of all, I spotted my favorite sign of spring the other day.   Yes, they pop up all over this time of year.  The Garden Centre at the supermarket.  Yeah!  It's garden season!!!!

Last year I spent considerable time and energy on my flower gardens, trying to identify and move around everything the previous homeowners left in my flower beds.  This year though, the truly exciting gardening project begins.  My veggie garden!!

So here it is . . .

We went with a raised be design because our property sits smack on a huge slab of the Canadian Shield.  We have about an inch of soil on top of a huge slab of rock.  So, raised bed it is.  My hubby and I came up with the design after a good search through Pinterest.  He says it looks like a giant pair of Minecraft pants.  I can't disagree.  It's 16' x 12' and the bed is 4' wide so a shrimp like me can harvest easily.  ERMAGERD I am so stoked!!

So, what's on the menu??  Stuff we like to eat of course!  Tomatoes, cucumbers, green beans, sugar snap peas, zucchini, summer squash, romaine lettuce, arugula, green peppers and herbs, basil, parsley, cilantro, thyme and oregano.  I also have two potato towers.  One for me and one for my eldest son who plans to harvest his potatoes and sell them at the end of the driveway.  Such a little entrepreneur! If I find I have room I may add a couple other things, but for now, this is the plan.

Stay tuned for updates on the planting, growing and harvesting process!

Michy

Update:  The Great Septic System Debacle

So, I got a call last week that Steve would be coming back today to do the fall maintenance for our septic system.  Ha!  Not gonna get me this time Steve!  I have been an angel!  I have been the poster girl for septic system care!  I will not be humiliated again!

I planned my morning.  I would get the kiddos off to school, pretty myself up and await his arrival while I sipped my morning tea.  He was scheduled for 9:30am.

I did actually end up a bit behind schedule.  Hitting the snooze button 5 times will set a girl back a bit ya know.  I rolled out of bed and into the kitchen to start making the boys lunches for school.  I was still in my baggy, blue flannel pajamas.  There was dishes piled up to the ceiling and no-ones lunch box could be found.  While I was roaming the house looking for lunchboxes I heard the dogs start going crazy, barking like we were being invaded.  This is a strong indication that somebody is at the door. Since nobody in my family is capable of answering a phone or a door, I trudged up to get it myself.  So there I am, bleary eyed, in my jammies with, very obviously, no bra on and who should be standing at the door a full hour and a half early??!!

I opened the door exactly one centimeter and placed one crusty, bleary eye up to the crack.  Yep, it's Mr. Handsomepants.  Dammit.  Now, you may think that just cracking the door open a tiny bit would have preserved some of my modesty, dignity and pride, and it may have, if my front door wasn't a solid sheet of transparent plate glass!!!!!!  There was no hiding. Humiliation complete.

But apparently God hadn't had all his fun with me yet today.  After Steve left I went into the bathroom to get dressed, you know, just in case anyone else decided to stop by at the crack of freaking dawn, and this is what I saw in the mirror:

What the multiple fucks is wrong with my hair.?  I look like an electrocuted porcupine! God dang it!!!!!

Well, there's always spring maintenance. 

Michy

The Great Septic System Debacle!

I should just go ahead and make a tab for this blog called, "Humiliating Myself".  I am just so good at it!  I never seem to run out of opportunities to totally and completely embarrass myself on a grand scale.

So, I know it's been forever since my last post, so allow me to update: we moved!  We moved to my dream log cabin in the woods!  I must say country life agrees with me!  Fresh air, lots of trees, deer and bunnies running around everywhere.  Love it!  However, with country life come a few things we may not have really given much thought to.  The constant screeching chatter of red squirrels, the unbelievable volume of mating frogs in spring and the snakes that make my retaining wall home, just to name a few.  Oh yes, and we have kissed sweet, fluid, city plumbing goodbye in favor of a country style shit management system, The Septic System.

To be fair, I think we have the most high tech septic system this side of the space shuttle.  When I was a kid, you flushed, shit went down the tube and into the tank.  End of story.  Our new septic system has pumps, aerators, a control panel with blinky lights and alarms.  It's ridiculous!  So when those lights and alarms started going off one day I didn't even think of trying to MacGyver a repair, I just called the septic repair company listed on the control panel.

The next day, promptly at ten, there is a knock on my door.  It's "Steve" from the septic repair shop. Steve just happens to be incredibly good looking.  I would guess, late forties, but held up reeeeeeaaalll nice.  Great skin, short blond hair and beautiful blue eyes, nice and slim and all blue collar-ey in his all purpose coveralls.  He's just letting me know he'll be working on the system and that he'll come back later and let me know what the problem was.  I get all eye lash batty and let him know, that's just great and I'll be waiting.

So I go down to our computer desk to kill some time.  It just happens to sit beneath a huge picture window that looks out on the septic system, (not as unattractive as it sounds, I swear), and I just happen to catch Steve at work.  As I'm logging into Pinterest I see him pop the lid off the tank and pull out aerator, the source of our problems.  It's a motor with a big long stick on it that branches out into three little sticks at the bottom.

Haaza!  I found a picture!

The purpose of this gizmo is to stir your turds around or something.  And don't be fooled by it's sturdy looks.  This is one sensitive little dandy.  It doesn't like anything that might get in the way of it mixing up the perfect poop smoothie.

So anyway, Steve pulls out the aerator, takes one look and says, "I knew it"! (I kinda had the window open too).  There is a huge gob of disgusting-ness stuck to the bottom of the pole.  Steve starts pulling it all off with his big work gloved hands and dropping the yuckiness into his handy bucket.  I said to myself, "Ew!  Gross!", and went back to Pinterest.  I looked up a few minutes later to see poor Steve pull out a knife and start hacking away at whatever it was that was wrapped around the bottom of the pole.  Poor guy, I thought.  I wouldn't even ask my husband to do this gross job and this dude has to do it for strangers.  Oh well, I was paying him after all and I was in the middle of a really great pin about shoe organization.

About 15 minutes later, he done.  He knocks on the door to give me the lowdown and the receipt. Geeze, I'm so glad I did my hair and make-up this morning!  I open the door widely and flash my smiley-est smile.  Here is our conversation:

Me: Hey, everything go ok? (much eyelash batting going on)

Steve:  Yep, it's all cleaned out and I've done your maintenance checks.  You should be good now until the fall.

Me:  Great! So what was the problem?

Steve:  Well, you had a huge wad of old tampons wrapped around your aerator and that threw it out of whack.  You really can't flush things like that.  You also can't flush used condoms, hair, whomp, womp, murmurlem, muarnrk, smurgle . . . . . . 

Me: (Blink, Blink)

Steve:  (I'm sure he said a bunch of really important things about septic system care here, but I wasn't hearing any of it.  I was so embarrassed, I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.  All I recall is ),  Here's your bill and I'll see you in the fall for your regular maintenance.

Me:  (Blink, blink)

I closed the door as I watched him walk away, went and threw myself on my bed and screamed into my pillow.

Now, I grew up in the sticks, so I am not unfamiliar with the rules of septic living, however years of spoiled city life had me thinking maybe I could get away with some things. Apparently not.  When I finally composed myself I vowed that come the fall I would make a much better impression than that first visit.  I mean, it couldn't get much worse right?

Stay tuned . . .