Amberism

When the cats away, the mice will play!

One of Steve's co-workers had to call in sick to a conference in Vancouver today, and since the course was already paid-in-full, Steve took his place. He left last night with a few of the other guys from work and I was left to fend for myself.

ah, heaven.

One of the hardest things about living with someone is finding downtime. Not that we live a high-tech, fast-paced life that I'm desperately looking for a little downtime. Honestly, we have a very laid back sort of lifestyle. It's laid back enough that I finished all 5 Harry Potter books in a month, while soaking in numerous bubble baths. I've got time on my hands, it's true. It's also true that we're really good about giving each other space.

That said, giving each other space and having the entire house to yourself (minus the creatures) are very different things, and every once in a while it's nice to be the only person around you have to worry about.

I turned it into a total sloth fest. I ate pizza pops and an obscene amount of chocolate cake that I had picked up on my way home, and watched all three Harry Potter movies. Why? Because I could. I stayed up WAY too late, had a luxurious sleep and then decided, against my better judgement, that I really ought to go to work today. But I didn't show up until 9:00, because I could.

Who Knows Best

There has been a lot of talk lately about Terry Schiavo since her feeding tube was removed the week before last.

As a result, you see every opinion under the sun about whether or not it was Terry's wish to not have lived the past 15 years in her current state. Her husband said that it wasn't, her parents disagree.

I believe her husband. My reasons are simple - who would you have this conversation with? Your parents, or the man you sleep next to every night? This is a conversation I'd have with Steve, not my Mom, so I think he's telling the truth. If he just wants to be free, he can be. He could have gotten a divorce, he could have just walked away and left Terry in the hands of her parents, but he keeps fighting this, presumably for her, and I believe it really is for her. If he was motivated solely for money, why spend the last 8 years or so dragging this through the courts? It wouldn't be worth whatever money he might get (and he maintains he won't be getting any money on her death anyway).

I don't fault him for having a girlfriend (actually, I pity the woman a little bit, who wants this shadowing their relationship?) or having a child. I don't live in any sort of romantic bubble either, I wouldn't sit at Steve's bedside while he was in a persistant vegetative state waiting for him to come back to me, for 15 years. Sorry, but at some point I'd start living my life again. Maybe that makes me a selfish, evil person. So be it. The same is true in reverse, I would not want Steve sitting by my bedside either. As far as I know, we only get one shot at life, live it. I'd be disappointed if he didn't.

Could it be that her husband likes the attention, the fame that this case has caused? eh, yeah, that's possible. But again, how fun can it be going to court all the time? Not my idea of a good time, I could only see me giving something that much dedication if I knew with all my heart that Steve would not, under any circumstances, want to live like that. Of course, I wonder if I wouldn't just let his family take over his care and move on. At this point it's not about Terry anyway, it's about everyone else being motivated by their own ideas of right and wrong, their guilt, their conscience.

All that said, starving her to death does seem unusually cruel. If it were me, I think I'd be fighting for a more humane method, some form of assisted suicide alternative. I'm not sure I could knowingly starve my husband to death and be comfortable with that decision.

Stop! Thief!

Some ASSHOLE is stealing our wood.

At first I thought I was losing my mind. I had gone out a couple of times and straightened the tarp on the biggest wood pile (we have 3, and about 4 or 5 chords of wood - A LOT of wood) and thought to myself, "is this pile getting smaller?"

The third time I looked out the window and noticed the tarp was messed up I thought "man, it must get super windy here during the day, and I should take a picture because I swear to god, the pile is getting smaller".

This weekend Steve walked in the house and said "uh, is someone stealing our wood?". At that point I decided it wasn't my imagination, someone has been helping themselves while we are at work.

Yesterday we came home and found one of our driveway reflectors had been run-over, several of the rocks that line our driveway were out of place, and again, the wood tarp was askew.

It's a little unnerving to think someone is driving into your yard, past your dog (who sounds rather vicious when he's barking, so it's surprising) and helping themselves to your stuff. Plus we have nice tools and equipment in our garage that I wouldn't be very pleased with if they went missing.

Steve decided that some security was in order, and went to Canadian Tire last night and bought padlocks for every gate into our yard. If the thief wants in now, he'll have to hop the fence, and I can't imagine that would be all that easy to do since our fence isn't really that hoppable.

The only drawback is that in Steve's enthusiasm I think he went a tad over-board because trying to get OUT of the yard this morning was a production! We have some kinks to work out with our new security system.

And the bastard who's so familiar with our property better be leaving my dog alone.

Backpacking

So we went to Labour Day Lake, we walked, we played with the dog. It started snowing. And snowing some more. And then there was beginning to be A LOT of snow and we packed up and went home.

I was lying in a hot bath reading Harry Potter: Goblet of Fire by 7:00 pm :).

Seriously, it started out a beautiful day, we piled into the truck early Saturday morning and headed out. After attempting to figure out the out-of-date backcountry map we finally reached our destination. Or so we hoped (it was hard to tell, actually). We scoped out the area, found the lake and a nice little camping area, went back up to the truck and loaded our gear on our backs (it was, obviously, a fairly short hike). Set up camp, then hiked around the lake. Halfway around the lake it started to snow, and if I'm being honest, it was beautiful. By the time we reached our camp, it was really snowing, and although still beautiful, it was losing it's appeal quickly.

We attempted to light a fire, and it woudn't light. Vegas ate a box of matches, matches and everything (so far, this has had no effect on the dog, he's got a stomach of steel, I swear). We gave up, and all three of us curled up in the tent for a nap. Around 4:30 we started the process of making dinner, but one look outside and I was worried. In an hour over an inch of snow had accumulated and it didn't look like it was letting up. With the memory of the last snowfall and the truck not being especially efficient, we were getting a little worried. We discussed it, then decided that safer was better than sorry. Being stranded on a deserted mountain lake in the snow would not be a good time, and who knows how Vegas will feel once the reality of eating a box of matches sets in. We packed up and walked out, got in the truck and made our way home.

Thankfully it wasn't snowing off the mountain, but a look at the mountain today showed an awful lot of snow and I'm glad we decided to pack it in. I spent yesterday alternating between cleaning my house and finishing Harry Potter. I'd forgotten how dark the story gets after Prisoner of Azkaban.

If only I could find my camera cable I'd download the pictures of my dog in a backpack! He's so cute!

Out In The Garden

I've been trying to get my flower and vegetable beds in order and I'm just about done. Last night I did the small bed the previous owners started at the side-front of the house. It was over-run with grass and there was a HUGE pile of weeds and grass by the time I was finished with it. I want to expand the bed and add some more perennials to it this summer, native plants that require no real care by me because I'm lazy that way, and I want to put some sort of border around it. Right now it's just sort of 'there' with no real defining presense. Because we live in the country the majority of our land is natural, not sod. That means the "lawn" is basically clumps of grass, weeds and ferns. It never will be sod because we live on well-water and wasting well-water on watering a lawn is out of the question. As a result of a lack-of-lawn, the flower and veggie beds really need some sort of defining feature like landscape ties or blocks, to make them seem like they're there on purpose.

Then I started to attemp to rip out all the grass that is threatening to over-take the rose bush that sits under our living room window in the back of the house. I didn't get far since it's still getting dark around 6:30, and attempting to carefully weed around a thorny rose bush in the dark is dangerous business.

Now that almost all the beds are under control, it should just be a matter of doing a quick walk-by every other night and pulling the occassional weed that appears. She says, naively.

I'm really excited to get onto the fun stuff though, like planting and building our patio. I have dreams of a splendid patio, which I'm sure will be crushed the minute I price out patio stones.

Steve is also planning to build a greenhouse. I have faith that he can build a greenhouse, although the entire process sort of scares me a little. It seems costly, time-consuming, and the outcome is a mystery. I'm leaning towards just buying one of these babies and setting it up. Steve says it looks ugly, I think it looks fabulous!

Roughin' It

Steve and I are planning to go backpacking this weekend, and as this will be Vegas's very first trip out to the back country we're introducing him to all the new things associated with backpacking. It's quite an involved process.

Step One - Introduce the Tent. This was done in the garage where his bed is, so he gets used to the tent's presence. You have to understand that my dog? Scared of his own shadow. A tent is a horrifying object to him. Once he got used to the presence of the tent, we had to convince him that it was ok to get close to the tent. Then to get IN the tent. This took a couple of days.

Some lounging around in the tent and we're onto to Step 2 - The Doggy Backpack. It's been almost a year since he's had the backpack on, and if Vegas thinks I'm carrying his dog food he's crazy. He can carry his own damn food, my backpack is heavy enough! He did very well with the backpack. He stood patiently while Steve put it on, attempting to bite it off once and then just accepted that this foreign thing on his back wasn't so bad. In no time he had flopped down on the couch like it was normal to be wearing a backpack. And normal to be flopping on my couch, the spoiled beast.

This brought us to Step 3 - Spending the Night in the Tent. I had absolutely nothing to do with this, if there is a comfortable bed in my presence, I'll sleep on the bed thanks. So Steve piled up the thermorests and sleeping bags, grabbed some fleece blankets and the dog and snuggled in for a night of camping in the garage. I came down at 7 this morning to wake up the boys, and there was a happy, little Vegas wagging his tail waiting for me to release him from the confines of the tent. Steve said that both the dog and he slept reasoably well.

Step Four will be attempting to fit me, Steve and an 80 lb dog in a two-man backpacking tent. This should be fun.

All in all, I think the backpacking trip should be a succes. Assuming it doesn't rain.

I'm over-using "~". Deal.

The thing about low-rise pants is that you need to be a very perceptive person first thing in the morning to remember that your pants are indeed low-rise pants, and that not every pair of panties in the drawer are suitable for said pants. Low rise pants = low rise panties, unless you like having people look at your panties, and apparently I do.

I'm wearing purple underwear. Hey, everyone else here gets to know that, why not you?

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I'm really hating short hair today. I feel old.

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I'm re-reading the Harry Potter series in preparation for the release of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince in July. I want to be a witch and go to Hogwarts and save the wizarding world from Lord Voldemort. I love Harry Potter. I want to marry Harry Potter.

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I feel like I need to do something to make a difference. Any suggestions? I'm too lazy to come up with my own plan.

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I wanna go home. meh.

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To the person calling from Ontario on my cell phone PLEASE STOP. It's annoying, especially the hanging up when I answer the phone bit. Not amusing.

Bloomin'

You go away for a week, and the entire island bursts out in bloom. It's very pretty, although the allergy sufferers are in misery. I only get a mild response to all the pollen in the air, so it doesn't bother me nearly as much as it bothers Steve.

Today was my first day back to my regular gym routine (I was working out in Calgary with Mom, but not my usual sets) and let me tell you, short hair is ANNOYING when you work out every day. I hadn't taken that into account... I'm not sure how I'm going to handle it, I guess I won't wash my hair in the morning, do it before I go to bed and just fix it in the morning?

On that same vein, I spent a couple of hours attempting to weed my last veggie box yesterday and my back is killing me today. Gardening is hard on a body. Next, weeding the front and side garden. Thankfully, they're small!

The Politics of Children

I read a couple of Mommy Blogs from time to time, and I have many friends who are Mommies so I'm getting a Mommy education whether I want one or not. Truth be told, I often don't mind the baby talk, I find human and all animal development fascinating. I love watching people interact, and seeing the results of that interaction. Plus toddlers are damn cute.

The most important lesson I've learned from growing older and watching my entire world feel a desire to leave behind their genetics is that having and raising children is a political minefield.

I'm not entirely sure why that is. I firmly belive that there is no one way to raise children. Steve and I couldn't have had more different upbringings, and yet we both have the same basic ideas of right and wrong. I am also aware that what I think NOW (sans children) is going to be thrown out the window the very second a child appears in our life, assuming a child ever appears that is. Thinking it and doing it are entirely different beasts, I know.

What I don't get is why there isn't a united front of parents. It seems to me that as a Mommy your biggest enemy is other Mommies. I don't know if it's an emotional response once you have children that you suddenly become ultra sensitive to every comment, or you just get sick of hearing them, or if you suddenly become oddly competitive, or if Mommies out there are really that horrendous to each other as blog posts I've read recently would have you believe. They call these moments "Mommy Drive-Bys". This is when other parents or just ordinary folks with no children but who think they know-it-all say something incredibly nasty to parents about how they're dealing with thier children. In several stories someone would walk up to a mother and criticize her for breast feeding, bottle feeding, home-schooling not home-schooling, sharing the family bed, not sharing the family bed, allowing their child to eat meat, for not allowing their child to eat meat, for using a soother, for not using a soother. The list is bloody ENDLESS.

Would someone truly approach a woman bottle feeding her child and criticize her for doing so? When they have NO HISTORY to the reasons behind that woman's choice, or any decency to mind their own damn business? I wouldn't walk up to someone at a restaurant and tell them they're chewing their food wrong, or approach someone at the dog park and tell them their holding their dog's leash wrong. I might think it, but I wouldn't actually approach them and lash out at them. In the parental world, these courtesies simply don't exist. It seems everyone thinks they have a right to comment on the next guy's parenting skills, without even having a glimpse of the history behind it.

And listening and reading all the opinions makes me think VERY hard about whether I want children of my own (adopted or 'au natural') because I'm not so sure I wouldn't be spending a great deal of my time smacking people upside the head. Maybe that is what parents need to do. The next time someone makes a rude comment to you regarding your children, smack them upside the head. If all parents do it, eventually people will start keeping their opinions to themselves unless they really enjoy a good smacking.

OR, carry around a stack of Thank You cards. When you get unsolicited advice, hand them a card and walk away.

Professional Adulthood

I got my Professional License! Hee! I'm a full-fledged professional engineer now which means I can stamp drawings if I knew anything about drawings and felt a need to stamp them!

I'm so cool.

I can now sign my name, Amber B.Sc., P.Eng.

(yes, I waited to the very last possible second to fill out the 8 million forms to become a P.Eng. What can I say, I'm lazy).

New and Improved. Well, Maybe.

I cut off 12 inches of hair, and then just cut it all off. I'm considering putting streaks in it now.

It's liberating!

My husband hasn't seen me yet, though, so you all have to wait. hehehe.

Eastward Bound

In relation to the previous post, I wonder where "leaving early to catch a plane so I can attend a wedding with free alcohol and proceed to get drunk" fits into the project listings?

Eastward bound, I get to spend the next week in sunny (I hope) Calgary! hee!

Oh Go and Time Yourself

I just spent two hours (TWO! HOURS!) filling in my timesheet for the last two weeks because it's very important that we track time even though we don't bill out our time to clients because there are laws in the US that mandate such things and the fact that I live in Canada is not relevant because we all know that the US = Center Of The Universe. Or so I'm led to believe.

And apparently these same laws mandate that as a company we're duty-bound to create the most archaic, mind-numbingly slow means of tracking time.

I do one thing at work. One task. I do it for two, and sometimes if I'm feeling fiesty, three projects. This requires SIX project codes. SIX. Are they ('they', yet again) seriously stumped as to why their employees don't submit said timesheets? Is it that hard to see? The task was made even more difficult because the handy journal I keep was seriously lacking in what I did on any given day. Test this or that was frequently written down, but I don't think that took 8 hours. And I'm pretty sure talking to my mechanic last Wednesday, which was dutifully noted in my journal, is not what they had in mind when they requested the timesheet be filled out. I resorted to making it up.

I was trying to figure out how I could add the project code FUCKING_THE_DOG or SURFING_THE_INTERNET or how about UPDATING_MY_BLOG_WITH_MINDLESS_CRAP. All of those tasks may take up hours of any given day, depending on the alignment of the moon, the stars, and my level of boredom with the current task at hand.

(for the record, they don't really, but that doesn't mean I haven't thought about it)

At the very least, EMAIL_MANAGEMENT should be a project code.

It is GORGEOUS outside

They (there is always a 'they') said it would rain all week, but it only rained for a couple of days and we're back to extremely awesome weather. I hope this doesn't mean it rains for the entire months of May and June or something.

It makes you want to go outside and play, not sit inside in a cubicle farm and talk about going outside and playing.

I love Spring. I love that Winter is on it's way out and we're moving into the best part of the year! Yay for longer days and weekends of leisure outside!

Got the time there, Superstar?!

I'm just so gosh darn special at work that I won an award. Being nice and a team player REALLY does get you stuff. Doesn't get you any extra money, like say, a bonus (and work, if you're reading this, yeah, of course I'd rather a bonus) but it does get you a mini clock with the company's name engraved on it that allows you to tell the time anywhere in the world. Assuming you could understand the obscure directions that came with the clock, and had an urge to know what time it was anywhere in the world. That urge has yet to strike me, but when it does, behold the clock that will satisfy me:

I smudged out the company reference and added the superstar reference. See? I'm only marginally stupid, that's why I get awards. Now bow at my feet.