You are currently browsing the monthly archive for September 2010.

My darling 3lbs-soaking-wet, cuddly, adorable, and sweet kitten…

Gary the Cat- 3 months

has turned into a (hopefully) fully-grown, 14lbs, playful, “helpful”, curious and independant cat.

Gary the Cat- 11 months

Granted, he is just as adorable now as the day he peed on my leg in the Humane Society waiting room- though now he has, thankfully, grown into his gigantic ears. When I held him in my hands for the very first time, the OHS volunteer assured me that he showed all the signs of being a lapcat. The words “eager for love” may have even crossed her lips to my ears. Even the adoption papers cited his cuddly behavior.

Well, like all good little ones, my darling kitten has decided to defy all predictions and run (practically) screaming from my lap should I ever attempt to put him there. Instead, my oversized fluffball has decided to latch onto a habit we probably should have nipped in the bud when he was still small: shouldercat. In my defense, it was super cute when he was only 3-5 lbs and mewed like a tiny little parrot as he perched up there, too scared to jump down.

Shouldercat has mostly learned that he is no longer capable of perching like he did as a baby- mostly because he has become big enough that I could wear him like a scarf should he try. However, he has taken up residence on the back of the couch as if it is the only place in the house worth visiting when others are home. Sometimes he doesn’t even notice when I sneak away and leave him curled up where my shoulders used to be.

Shouldercat- 11 months

Even at night, when we yell “Gary! It’s bedtime!” He runs into the room and cuddles up on my pillow next to my head.

Lapcat of my dreams he may not be, but as far as shouldercats go, he is the best.


I am over 25 years behind the 8-ball on this one, but I think you should know that my favourite TV show in the entire world is M*A*S*H. I have watched all the seasons from start to finish about half a dozen times with the exception of the series finale.

All that changed last Saturday.

After years of resisting, I gave in and watched the 2.5 hour long Goodbye, Farewell and Amen. And, despite my fears, it did not ruin the whole series or make me feel as though the characters I had grown to love were, in fact, just actors moving onto new contracts.

I am not too proud to admit, it was the perfect end to my favourite show and I am glad I watched it. I understand why others had long urged me to press play and why so many people cried in the final hours.

Today, after I had finished all my chores and run out of energy, I started to watch my beloved show again. Back to where it all began- for better or for worse- knowing where it all ends. In the midst of it all, I got to thinking about how the characters do not know the ending- even the writers wont know that for seasons to come. And, while I admit that this is not an original thought by any stretch of the imagination, I got to thinking about how that is true in life. Sort of, anyways.

Ultimately, I know where I will be when I or the earth have passed away. But there is a lot I don’t know: what the journey will be like, who I will meet, the details of how the end will happen or what it will look like. But, here’s the thing: unlike the writers of our favourite TV programs or books, my Author knows every last detail. He’s already taken care of the things that plague me today and will in the days to come.

I find that incredably comforting.


About a month ago, Lucas and I were on our way home from his parents house when we stopped to visit a little park on the island. We’d been here before: it was where our wedding photo’s were taken over three years ago. In the fading sunlight, everything looked surprisingly different and even more beautiful than I remembered.

Our visit was brief.  As we crossed the fence-line to the parking lot, a little piece of paper taped to the handicapped parking sign caught my eye. If we were anywhere else, I doubt that I would have given it a second thought let alone walk back to see what was written on the water streeked paper. However, the oddity of it’s location on a sign in a parking lot that you have to intend to get to, piqued my curiosity. Written on the note, in hurried handwriting was the following message.

We were worried about you. If you ever need anything just call.
Cheryl & Sarah (XXX-XXXX)

Now, weeks later, this note is still on my mind.  Why is it that Cheryl & Sarah “were worried” and not “are worried”? Perhaps it is a simple misunderstanding of grammar or their rushed situation that caused the wording. And why is it that this note would be in such an oddly remote location in search of David? The story behind this note will likely go unknown to me for the rest of my days, but it is intriguing nonetheless.

Want to know the most interesting part? The note was there two weeks later, but had vanished by week three. Did David return and seek out Cheryl & Sarah?


The moment I closed my last school book back in June, I made a silent promise to myself that I would find a way to read for fun again. Sure, I never really gave up reading for my own enjoyment be it novels, magizines, articles, or cookbooks, but they wee certainly not the priority and often came accompanied with guilt. Every year the stack of books aquired and desired has grown larger in my mind. Finally, (finally!) I can allow myself the guilt-free privilegde of reading all those treasures.  So, with library card in hand and personal bookshelves begging to be tackled, I have begun to fulfill my vows to myself.

As a child, I can remember sitting and reading an entire book in one go. I devoured the entire series of Nancy Drew books that way over the course of a summer or two. As an adult- as many of you can probably attest to- it is difficult or impossible to find the time and energy for such an endevour. On Wednesday, however, after a beautifully successful trip to the library, I did just that!

When I pulled Go Ask Alice off the shelf, I had only a vague memory of having heard the title once before: recommended by a friend, perhaps? It was only that vague recollection that convinced me to carry the treasure home as I have an arbitrary rule against brining home books with no description on the cover. I should also mention that I did not have much intention of completing the book, let alone reading it all in one night.

Go Ask Alice is the published journal of an annonymous teenage girl dealing with the allure and lifestyle of drugs. Not exactly my typical read- usually I lean more toward general fiction. I quickly found myself unable too stop reading as this young girl fell deeper into the world of drugs. Tragic, confusing, and mostly frightening. I dare not give too much away, except to say that I have been thinking about it for a couple of days now- especially the epilogue.

Now, I know this book is nothing new… it was published in 1971. But it really is an interesting and heartbreaking read that is worth every page.

Next on the reading list, discovered on that same library visit, is Brick Lane by Monica Ali. I started it this morning and it looks to be a promising read itself!


Yesterday, I was super woman.

I accomplished more in one day thanI have in ages: 7 hour shift at work, cleaning the apartment, dishes, a week’s worth of laundry, showering, grocery shopping, a visit to the library, making dinner fr four, and reading an entire 183 page novel. All between the hours of 4:15am and 10:30pm.

Today, I am exhausted.

With the exception of a 6.5 hour shift, the most I have accomplished today is consuming a bowl of left-over taco salad whilst Gary looks at me accusingly. I am not necessarily disapointed with today’s inactivity- I just find it sort of amusing.  The plans for later are not exactly lofty either: make bread, eat dinner, go to bed.

Tomorrow, I will try to find the happy medium.

There is yet another shift tomorrow, and a considerably shorter to-do list to accomplish. Mostly, I am telling you this simply so that you might be able to read between the lines and know I am happy. There is always joy, but lately I am also happy. I am taking a great deal of comfort and pleasure in the most mundane of activities or lack thereof.

Until next time, check the mail, wash your face, read a good book, hug someone you love, and remember that those are among the most amazing things in life.


Autumn is creeping in around the edges of this city. Later sunrises, cooler afternoons, and warmer toned plants are making their first, albeit subtle, appearences.  The fledgling Japanese Maple below our balcony turned from green to a red almost overnight, though it appears to be holding onto those firey leaves with a firm grip. I hadn’t really noticed autumn’s appraoch until this morning as I stood at the drive-thru window and felt my hands growing colder each time I reached out. It dawned on me then, in a sort of pleasing and urgent way even though I am sure there will be more summer-like days in the weeks to come.

With my love of autumn colours, wool sweaters, and a birthday just a month or so away, it is not suprising that autumn in my favourite of seasons. September in particular always stands out in my mind as it is the gradual assent into autumn and also the much anticipated back-to-school season. I aways loved the prospect of returning to school- yes, mostly because I was, and continue to be, a big nerd. Even the idea of buying school supplies still makes me a tiny bit excited even in the absence of class in which to return. There is no school for me this autumn, and thats okay.

Lately, I have been pondering the topic of friendship; mostly trying to recall how I became friends with many of those I now call dear. Some came from Youth Group or Girl guides, a few from work, and others from camp. The majority of my friends, however, have come initially from proximity caused by school. Which has left me asking the question:

How does a naturally introverted person make friends beyond school?

Lucas and I are both feeling something missing in the absence of local friendship beyond each other and our families. I have though about joining the local quilting guild, but fears of inadequacy, age gap, and the like have thus far held me back. Work friends are great, but I don’t always like talking about coffee and customers after I take my apron off.  I guess these things usually just come down to being open to the oppertunity and not forcing matters. Just a question and a thought.


a tea for everything

More Pictures

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