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wraithgirl's Journal  I have lots to do and it isn't hard, but I don't feel like doing it. So instead, LJ! GMinor's school just called. When I saw the call display, my heart gave that little panicked lurch of fear, wondering what happened to her. Of course, nothing at all. She's fine. But the principal is back from being off for a week with the flu and is taking care of the Great Earmuff Destruction of 2009 that happened in her absence. Two weeks ago at recess, a couple of grade 6 boys snatched GMinor's purple princess earmuffs off of her head and then deliberately snapped them in two. Many tears ensued but fortunately, her teacher was right there and the fill-in principal handled it. However, the regular principal, who I adore, called to ask about how much they were and where they might have come from. Unfortunately, they came from Toronto a few years ago and I'm sure can't be replaced with anything exactly the same. However, the principal plans to research it this weekend. Can you imagine a principal taking her weekend to drive around to stores to find out about availability of kid's earmuffs? She's the most decent human ever. So, I am relieved that this is being handled, and with far more care and attention to detail than I could do. Research for potential renovations is underway. The house is freezing, especially on windy days as the cold whisks through the walls and windows. You can actually feel a breeze in the stairwell. GMinor's room is the coldest in the house (excepting basement). I couldn't figure it out, but GMajor finally did; her's is the only room where the heat vents run on *outside* walls. Brrr. However, new windows, and basement and attic insulation should really help. We have a sort of solution to the UFFI in our walls. Removing it is a nervous breakdown level of renovations - basically ripping out each and every wall that is an exterior wall, scraping off the UFFI and then reinsulating. Gah. However, a friend suggested an air-exchanger. THhs is important because, as we start to seal up the house with new windows and insulation, we trap in all the off-gasing and toxins, both from UFFI and from everything else (cooking, carpets, glues, paints, etc.). So, for a couple of grand (rather than $20 000 for UFFI removal), we can get a HEPA air filter attached to the furnace, which will solve any air quality issues we might have. Very happy for this solution. We still plan to ask the previous owner for this money for this, since it was her lie and her responsibility. However, I expect we will have to litigate for this to actually happen. GMajor has been getting some pretty awesome presents lately. Normally, when I drag him around antiquing or shopping, he looks at stuff and humours me, but rarely shows any lasting interest. However, a few weeks ago, we got a day off for antiquing and he fell in love. It's a 1938 console radio. It's a gorgeous art deco style cabinet and the radio actually works! The radio cost $197 when it was first made. We bought it 70 years later for $200. There's an irony in there somewhere. Anyway, it looks amazing and it sounds amazing. It matches the piano and the dining table perfectly and it fits under the Chat Noir poster like we planned it. Here's a pic, if you're interested. Previous to this, while alivicwil was visiting, we saw a wonderful sculpture at Indigena. Looking at soapstone sculptures of polar bears and walruses is sort of a Canadian thing to do, so we dragged Ali in there. Ironically, it was us who ended up with the prize. GMajor saw this sculpture and went back and looked at it about 6 times. I make it a policy that anything that elicits that strong a reaction from him should be purchased immediately. And especially in the case of something that is one-of-a-kind. I was a lot less money than we were expecting for art of this nature, so I think it was a very good deal. I am very partial to the dancing polar bears myself, but I do like the shape and flow of this piece.DinosaurQueen's annual Halloween party is this Saturday. I admit to be completely over Halloween now and actually kind of looking forward to Christmas. I caught myself humming Christmas carols the other day. I'm sure I would have been stoned to death if anyone had heard me. But I am looking forward to pulling out the familiar Christmas decorations, like old friends, out of the equally antique tissue they are wrapped in. Remember when Kleenex came in colours? Apparently, in Stratford, it's considered gauche to turn on your outside Christmas lights before the tree-lighting ceremony at city hall. So we will have to wait until November 29. But we'll be ready! I can already taste the eggnog! It's been a long week and we are all more than ready for the extreme sugar high that is Halloween. This year, GMinor will debut as a princess - her first princess costume, actually. As is our usual, GMajor and I will play backup roles. I plan to dress up as a pea, and GMajor wants to be a mattress. However, GMinor is insisting he plan a prince, so we'll see who wins. She wanted me to play a witch ("But there's no witch in Princess and the Pea!" "Yes, there is!" "No, there isn't!"....) and when I woudn't agree, she invited her grandmother for trick-or-treating. Humph. Ah well, we could all use a break and laundry is so backed up, I'm even willing to ask for her help. It's true; I'm that desperate. GMinor has been off school all week with a cold that turned into the flu. With all the panicking about swine flu, I managed to get pretty worried by Thursday when she stared getting even more symptoms and her fever kept going back up again. Without a Stratford doctor, we didn't have any other options but to hit emergency. We were there for 4 and a half hours, which I guess isn't too bad, but it sure was a heck of a long time. She was still home today, but was feeling a bit better - enough to make me completely mental, trying to juggle deadlines and looking after a sick and cranky child. She did miss Black and Orange Day at school - not such a loss, I think, eh seal_clubber?Today, I had just managed to send off the final batch of work I promised for this week when my client called. She was seriously displeased with the project management work I had done in July and told me she'd never hire me again for that. While I grant that I didn't exactly do a stellar job, I think she was being a bit unfair and, kudos to me, I told her so. She hired one good author, two utterly inexperienced authors and one unreliable one to write a project in a very compressed timeline. The one good author did her job on time, completely, and well. The unreliable author dicked around for weeks, making promises and breaking them while I begged my client to replace him. One of the new authors was horribly late and a third of her work eneded up being written by one of my editors. The other newbie did manage to come through with most of what was needed, but needed a ton of hand-holding. In addition, one of the editors got strep throat and was out of commission for a week and the other had family issues taking her out for several days at a time until she eventually just quit. I hired several replace editors who were poached by my client for other projects that were more urgent. In short, it was doomed. She acted astonished, like she didn't know any of this was happening, which is complete BS. Anyway, good riddance to the project management - it's definitely not for me. But I hate being scapegoated and I sure hated that conversation. So, after many hugs and soothing from GMajor and GMinor, we went out for a completely adequate dinner at Boston Pizza. I didn't have to cook. Yea. Other flotsom of the week...I got a call earlier in the week like an emotional landmine. Apparently, my Dad had an insurance policy with me as beneficiary. Although my stepmom mentioned this, I assumed it would be weeks or months away. So when they called, I was completely caught off-guard. After some tears, I emotionally flailed a bit more, struggling to figure out what I was going to do with the money - what was the right thing, what would Dad want, etc., etc. Eventually, I decided on finishing Dad's Christmas gift to us. My Dad was a self-taught cabinet-maker. Most of our furniture, anything that's not Ikea, my Dad made. We have a fantastic walnut and maple sleigh bed he made a few years ago. For Christmas, he planned to make the matching bedside tables. He had cut out some of the pieces and started making the biscuit joints, but then, he just stopped and closed the door to his workshop. He never went back. About two weeks ago, my stepmom arranged to have all the wood and plans delivered. I had asked my neighbour about making them and the price was so astonishing, I just laughed. $900...EACH! However, today, my friendly contractor agreed to take the project on, so I am hopeful that these will get done in time to finish what Dad started. Still, the whole thing feels a bit like someone giving my heart a good hard squeeze. Also this week was the horrifying death of one of GMajor's friends from when he worked at Chapters in Etobicoke. Taylor Mitchell was only 19 and an incredibly sweet girl. I hardly remember her from the very few times I met her, I'm sorry to say, but GMajor does. It's the second work-friend from Chapters he's lost and the sixth death in two years to hit our family. We sort of feel like hiding under the bed until someone calls all-clear. We're both finding it hard to keep moving. I find I am easily distracted and also easily panicked. It will pass, and hopefully sooner than later. GMajor is similarly in duck-and-cover mode. I am hoping that sometime in 2010, I can scrape together enough funds to go visit Paul in Europe. A little travel therapy is probably in order - I really need some perspective, some reminders of why life is good. A few pastries in Vienna might be just the thing. Or wherever. Vienna sounds wonderfully romantic, but perhaps Munich so I also have the chance to meet Paul's new love, who sounds wonderful. However, firstly the money and the rest will unfold. I think I'll give that sleep thing another try. Things are back into somewhat of a routine at All's Well now. Actually, it's almost boring. Sounds like time to renovate! Okay, here's the deal. Back before the Great Bathroom Explosion of 2009, we had planned to put in all new windows. We knew the windows were bad when we bought the house and planned to replace them. We got the Eco-Energy audit already and were fielding various quotes when everything got diverted to bathroom renos. However, time is ticking away on the audit - we have about 8 months left before it expires - and our windows still suck (and blow too). We had Pella come in again yesterday and requote based on their sale prices. It's still coming to about $11K. I really would like to get these windows replaced - they slam and crush and trap fingers, they are letting dozens of flies and the occasional bee in, and they are cold and drafty. The government will give us $80 per window back - eventually - but that's only about $1600. We'll save on heat, a bit anyway, but there's no knowing how much that will be. I'm just not sure that it's a good time to get another $10 in debt, you know? I know we'll really enjoy them, but yikes. More debt = scary. And this whole thing is making me miss my Dad like crazy. He was always the one I talked to about financial stuff and home renos. And now, God help me, I've got to sort it out on my own. Probably explains why my credit cards spontaneously burst into flames. In addition, when we demoed the bathroom, we had to tear out all of the insulation there was in the basement. There wasn't a lot of it, but wouldn't you know, it was all exactly where the pipes were run. So now, the basement is insulation free and freaking cold. Our neighbour says it would be $5000-7000 to put up stud walls and insulate (and do the other bits and pieces that need to be done before that, like move the washing machine next to the dryer and move the dryer vent away from the deck, etc.). For this, we'll get another couple of grand back from the government...eventually. Bah, I don't know how to weigh these things. What do you think? It's a wild day out today - windy and rainy - the kind of day the flips your umbrella inside out, sticks your hair to your face, and soaks to through to your underwear. Fortuantely, I am back inside and dry now. The last couple of days have been challenging. Monday started with being yelled at by a client and finding out the improbably deadline was actually an impossible one...and at the same time as two other impossible deadlines. After giving it a bit of thought and thrashing it out woth DinosaurQueen, I ended up bailing on one of the projects. And there ends my soujourn into project management. I can't say it went well. Being responsible for other people's work sucks. So, now I just have two impossible projects to finish and a negative balance that keeps me awake all night. With this summer's unexpected renovation, two weeks off work while in Kingston and the subsequent hotel and food bills that came with, we are pretty damn strapped. I think it's time to visit the bank of Mom. Considering I already owe her $1000, I imagine that's not going to go over well. At the same time, I got a startling e-mail this morning from my Dad. I didn't realize that my step-mom was using his same address but it sure froze me in my tracks when I logged on this morning. Apparently, my Dad had an insurance policy and I'm named beneficiary. Huh. Although we are really strapped for cash, I would really rather not think about this or deal with it at all. Why is it that life is full of these kinds of decisions? Anyway, I also told my step-mother that I would help her out with the funeral costs, so I guess that's what this money will end of being for. Yesterday, I was searching through my in-basket for work messages and came across several messages from my Dad, sent a few weeks ago. Also yesterday, my Dad's neighbours dropped by the walnut and maple boards that Dad had cut out in preparation for the bedside tables that he was making for GMajor and I for Christmas. One of our neighbours is a cabinet-maker and I've asked him if he could take a look and maybe finish them for us. I was speaking with my step-mom a couple of days ago and she's been cleaning out my Dad's workshop and appraising his tools, getting ready to sell them. I would rather have everything preserved, like a time capsule, so I could go to my Dad's house, wander down to the workshop and everything would still be there, exactly as it was, sawdust on the floor, plans taped to the bulletin board with the white board list of projects in the works. Just as if he was just out for a moment and was going to come back any second and pick up where he left off. I had always sort of thought that I would figure out how to do this stuff at some point - learn how to do the woodworking, turn some spindles, do some scrollwork. But I guess that's not really very realistic. I always thought I would have this stuff available when I got around to learning, but there was never any time. And now, there's no one to show me. I'm not sure I could ever get over my fear of power tools anyway. So I guess there's not a lot of point in me trying to keep the lathe or the scroll saw or the gazillions of feet of wood curing in the garage. Better that my step-mom gets some cash to pay the bills and stay in the house and better that the tools go t someone who really appreciates them and will use them to make beautiful things. Better that than have them sit in my basement and rust and make me feel guilty for never using them. But it's really hard to let them go, regardless of whether it's a better idea. I continue to be worried that my step-mom is throwing things out and getting rid of stuff that I might want. I already talked to her about it and I don't know that I have the nerve to talk to her again. This is really hard for me, but she has to live in that empty house with my Dad's glasses on the table beside his chair and his notes and pencils beside the computer. I can't imagine how difficult it would be to leave them sit there or put them away. Both are pretty awful options. Anyway, now that I have thoroughly depressed myself, and probably everyone else, I guess it's time to go and earn some of the money I need so much. Hello LJ, It's been a while since I last posted and a lot of stuff has happened. Most of you know about my Dad, but I'm not ready to talk about that yet. Instead, I'll just blather on about life's mundanities. There's been a lot of chucking out and restocking of closets lately. The loss of the linen closet has prompted a purge of ragged towels, the 5000 pillowcases I acquired somehow and some rather ugly bathmats. I also decided that any shoes or clothes that predate my daughter should go unless I truly loved them. Goodwill has been restocked now and the local SPCA has enjoyed the influx of towels and mats for Fluffy and Rover. While dropping off stuff at the SPCA, we met Ginger, a 2-year-old Cockapoo. I've been having a deep dog need lately and GMinor's been very keen on doggies. It's a terrible idea for us right now. We don't need the stress, mess or expense of a doggy. But I'm not all that smart, and I really loved this dog. However, when I returned to the SPCA today, there were already two applications and two others in the works to adopt Ginger, so I thought this was probably a sign that I should just stop. Such a cute little dog though. Old towels going out has meant a need for new towels to come in. GMinor has outgrown all her towels with bunny ears or duck bills, sadly. I haven't had any luck though. I want those large bath sheets that would cover her from nose to toes, but the stores seem to mean something different. All their bath "sheets" are really just normal bath towel-sized. I did find one that was adequate, but that's all. I hired a painter to paint my living room. I got a message on the Stratford parents group from someone interested in starting a painting business. She's almost finished the living room now and it looks amazing. When GMajor and I returned from Kingston, I noticed how much all the patches and scrapes on the walls were bothering me. But it's such a huge job, I was too overwhelmed to start. Fortunately, Sheryl has been wonderful. I was nervous about my colour choice, but it looks really good now. It's a huge relief. I spend all my time at home - I work here and live here. This means I will actually like my house again and be mess mad at it for being a disaster. The bathroom reno and the expenses of losing two weeks of work and staying in a hotel for a week are really adding up. Money is back to being stupidly tight again. I am so tired of being poor. I'm not talking about a jet-setting lifestyle here. I would just like to be able to replace the damn electric kettle when it breaks instead of doing without for 3 months because we can't afford the $20. And all this shopping I've been doing, it's not diamonds! I went to Zellers and bought a pink bath towel for GMinor for $8 and clothes she really needed (socks and underwear). I went crazy and bought *two* new laundry baskets for $8 each. Wow, what a wild and crazy person I am! I just keep thinking that we should be doing better than this. We work hard, we have a pretty quiet lifestyle - where's the money? I guess everyone's feeling like this though. It's the new normal. In happier news, GMajor's birthday was this past week and we managed to snag supercheap tickets to A Midsummer Night's Dream. $10 each. Seriously. Anyway, it was a total hoot. Geraint Wyn Davies was perfectly over the top. I've never heard a Festival audience laugh so hard. GMajor had tears streaming down his face in the final scene with the Most Tragical Tale of Pyramus and Thisbe. The placement of the chink in the "wall" was most... awkward. Awesome. I wasn't super-crazy about the period chosen - I really prefer they stick with the original - but the Grease-meets-West Side Story costumes were different and the use of Puck's pointy-toed shoes for Bottom's ass ears was wonderfully inventive. Fairies in leather though? I don't know... So now I just have to scare up enough money to take advantage of the $39 a seat offer for West Side Story. The season is coming to a close and these are the only sale seats I've seen for this show. We haven't managed to take GMinor to see anything at all and she's not to happy about that. We got a bit of birthday money so maybe instead of being responsible and putting the money toward Visa, we'll just be stupid and buy theatre tickets. What the hell. alivicwil, you still need to tell me what you want to see when you're here. Time's a wasting and tickets are getting hard to find. Look here and let us know what you feel like seeing.Well, it's been a trying, tiring weekend and I didn't get to drink nearly enough yesterday, so I think I'll check out what's in the cupboard. I think Dad donated some tequila a while back... Adios. Dad passed away peacefully on Thursday at about 3:15 pm. We were all with him. There will be a family-only reception on September 26 in Milton after the interment. We're all fine now, although very tired and very sad. We'll be all right. It's just going to take a while. Many of you may wish to do something to help - I know I always feel that way at these times. More than flowers, I would really appreciate you spend your money in a lasting, productive way. Donations to the Parkinson's Foundation would be great, as would donations to Kingston General Hospital. They were very wonderful, in particular the palliative care resident with the ironic name of Dr. Haunt. Dad would have been very amused. It just might be bad policy to choose the time where a woman who has been up since 6:30 am making breakfast, getting the kid into clothing, listening to a violin practise, feeding the cats and generally racing around like a crazy person to criticize said woman for the countertop she chose to make lunches, explaining that she was "in the way". Having a peanut butter and banana sandwich thrown at your head is probably not the way you want to start your day. I'm just saying. I got a call tonight from my step-mom. My Dad's not doing so great. I had planned to head down to Belleville this coming weekend to visit him. My step-mom wanted to let me know that Dad's not be able to eat very much for the last three days...he can't swallow. She suggested that when I come I don't being GMinor with me because my Dad might be in the hospital then. Then, my Dad tells me that he's been at emergency 4 times since I last talked to him less than a week ago with "attacks". Dad's pretty hard to understand on the phone, so I'm not really sure what these are all about. I heard something about pinched nerves and joints not working, but I really don't know. So, I said I would for sure be there on Friday and would take GMinor to her grandmother's. So, I called my mom to make these plans and it turns out that my step-mom called my mom earlier this morning. I don't know what I didn't get passed along that piece of info., but anyway, apparently, things are much worse that I thought. Apparently, she's really worried about my Dad and he's eaten basically nothing at all for three days. My Mom thinks I should head out much sooner than Friday. So, I am leading to Belleville tomorrow. I am sick with worry about my Dad and also sick with dismay that I will not be here for GMinor's first day of Grade 3. She's been so worried. And now, I'm not even going to be here for her. I'm just so tired and sad and worried. He's getting his script read! By a real guy - a real producer! He's going to be freaken famous, man! And also? RICH! During our renovations, we discovered that there was a flourishing beehive in between the bricks in the wall of our house. A few days later, we found another one in the soffit of the front porch. These are busy, happening hives with dozens of bees coming and going every minute. I wasn't going to worry about them, but when we got home from the cottage, there were 5 or 6 bees inside the house and we get 1 or 2 bees straying inside every day now. So, today, I finally got in touch with a pest control company. I feel terrible out it. I'm so anti poisons and I hate how the poor things die. Plus, they're proper bees, not wasps, and in short supply! But we can't stand having them inside and it's ging to be worse with the weather getting cooler, so they had to go. I wish there was a way to just convince them to move, "Hey bees, you've picked a terrible place to live, a really bad neighbourhood. I suggest you find a nice tree instead." But sadly, we have to kill them instead. And, because it's getting cooler, the spiders are back inside. I just found one in the stairway - at eye-level - yig! - that was a two-Kleenex one. I had to do the wiggly dance of yigged out after the flushing. I really HATE spiders! And also? I went all the way downstairs to get a glass of water. Then, I knocked over the glass of water. So now I have to go all the way back down again. Damnit! |
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