Rec Room - Check!

The past couple months we've been working on completing the last remaining room in our home - The Rec Room, to have it ready in time for the holidays.

 It started out as a workshop, crammed from corner to corner with tools and sawdust - and is now a comfortable place to hang out. But OH! What a job it has been! Drywall needed to be hung, mouldings and trims needed to be done, many hours of painting,  and late last night Mr. Redneck Hillbillies installed the laminate flooring and shoe moulding.

 We moved our two pinball machines and arcade game in there (finally getting them out of the hallway and office!)Then we moved in a  leather two seater couch and an older 50" projection TV for the kids' game systems and a keyboard. We cut a carpet scrap to make a temporary rug for some cushioning under our feet for the stand up wii games. The Mr. and the little kidlet want to try cramming a coin operated pool table in there but Big Chitlin and I both think that would be pushing it!

 I'm happy to announce that it is finally  done. WHEW! Well, there is still a little bit of clean up left to do, some photos and artwork to be hung, and decorating touches that will make it feel a little warmer. We also need to add another chair or two, and a cabinet to hold a stereo system and the games/controllers.

The windows are still bare, too - big, open "loss of R-value"s as our neighbour would point out. We're thinking wood blinds for the windows since drapes would just be large dust and dog hair magnets. We'll hold off on those untill I find them on sale somewhere since they can be pricey!

The hard part is done at least and we're on the home stretch!

Let me tell you, it sure felt nice to sit on the couch with a fuzzy throw blanket in a finished room at 10pm last night after a *very* long day! Here's how it looks this morning - what do you think?!?

C-c-c-COLD!

T'is the season for Bbbbbrrr -ing. We all look so fine with our big, bulky coats zipped up to our chins, backs hunched against the icy wind. Top it all off with watery eyes, chattering teeth, chapped lips, flaming cheeks and red, running noses. Just lovely! 

I got a taste of today's chilly morning temperatures while walking my daughter to the bus stop. I remember the whole childhood walking-to-school-on-cold-days experience as being particularly uncomfortable, but I think it's even harder to deal with when it's been a long.. ok a very long... time since I had to boogie down any street with frozen legs to catch a school bus.

Sitting in a cold vehicle for a few minutes waiting for it to warm up so that I can be blown with nice warm air doesn't seem so bad anymore. Ah, as much as I'd love to be a kid again, being an adult does have its advantages.

For many, -8 degrees Celsius is a walk in the park. Particularly for anyone who grew up anywhere in the great frozen northern 2/3's of Canada or from the prairies. Those people could probably tell stories of walking for miles in 3 feet of snow, uphill both ways,... barefoot. ;p

Not me. Excuse me while I go thaw out by the toasty gas fireplace.

Aaaaaah, much better!

A Doosie of a Day!

It's Friday, but today felt a whole lot more like a Monday.

It started out as usual with the kids barely making the bus in time, with my shouts of "Go! Go! Go!'" from the front door urging them to move it. Today they at least made it to the end of the street where the bus driver saw them and stopped long enough for them to board. Three hurrahs for awesome small town bus drivers!

My  day started with leaving myself 9 minutes to drive all the way across town to my work. On garbage day too yet, so before I could even pull out of the driveway I had to haul two very heavy cans out to the road. (Missed pickup last week!)

Once out of the driveway and on my way, right foot firmly on right pedal,  I found myself stuck following a speed restricted truck down the only road to the freeway on ramp, then  had to wait for a train, and as can be expected ended up being 10 minutes late for work. FAH!

It was a super short day with only two beers to cook and I was off shortly after lunchtime, so I motored  all the way home before I remembered littlest kidlet hadn't reminded me to give her money for a dance ticket. Sooo, I Drove across town AGAIN to the school to drop off money for the all important dance ticket, only to find out she'd borrowed enough from a friend and I'd driven there for nothing. Sigh. So much for Mom saving the day!  I had a slim chance of being COOL today but it wasn't to be!

Later I was off doing errands and saw a man calling for "Buddy" all around the parking lot. Buddy ended up being a little foofypoof  dog that had gone into the bank. Into the bank! It was just standing there panting away beside people talking and nobody seemed to notice?  I reunited worried man and foofypoof dog and they must have thought I was pretty cool even if the kid didn't  ;p 

So what did I learn today?

Wake up earlier.
Don't bother trying to be a cool mom,
and sometimes strange men bumbling around looking for lost puppies  really are  just strange men looking for lost puppies!

Rural Mailbox Rant

Mailbox tampering and mail theft: It's enough to make my blood boil!

There is nothing quite as upsetting as coming back from a lovely afternoon out in the sunshine to find the mailbox door hanging wide open and a bunch of empty slots. Did I check the mail yesterday? Was I expecting anything really important this time of the month? If it hasn't happened to you yet, those are the thoughts that instantly spring to your head.

We used to have mail delivered right through our mailslot each day by a happy, smiling mailman who always had something pleasant to say. Then we moved to a smaller community with absolutely no door-to-door mail delivery. No problem, we thought. It's not a big deal to have our mail delivered to a gangbox.

I should mention that in the three and a half short years we've had rural mailbox delivery we've had at least 8 mailbox breakins. EIGHT!  I can not handle this anymore. I'm literally hopping mad. 

So now I'm hopping mad and my blood is boiling. Pretty picture, isn't it?

I am angry at the methemphetamine addicted scum who violate our privacy by helping themselves to our mail, leaving us feeling vulnerable to all sorts of issues like credit card fraud, or  identity theft.

I'm also angry at Canada Post's  inability to deal with a rampant problem in small, rural communites. Shame.

Hopping mad. Boiling blood. Wagging my finger - Shame!

Each time it's broken into, I call in to our small little hicktown post office to report it and express my frustration (as nicely as possible of course) I remind them of the multiple times it's been damaged, and suggest ways of dealing with this. Each suggestion is met with a calculated response. They should have their answers down pat by now with all the experience they've been getting!  If you ask me, they can't for the life of them see why they should expend the effort to fix something if they're not personally affected.

 They can't install an anti-pry bar until other communities with a larger mail theft problem have been upgraded first. Even though it's completely obscured by large overgrown trees and in the pitch dark screaming "PICK ME!" with a neon flipping target - they won't move it across the road to sit next to  the well illuminated one that has to my knowledge never been targeted. Oh, they say I could create a petition, post it on the mailbox because I can't know who owns the mail compartments in the box, have everyone sign that they agree to moving it, and then take it to the higher-ups to ASK them to pretty please move it.

I'm not a violent person by any stretch of the imagination. But answers like that just make me want to THROTTLE someone.


So today I get a letter in my newly fixed (read: they closed the door) mailbox.  It says "Although this incident is beyond the control of Canada Post, we sincerely regret any inconvenience caused."

Beyond your control? Do I have to speak more slowly?

MOVE......THE.....DAMN ....MAILBOX!

and then, ..."We have a commitment to offer the best possible service."

Excuse me while I choke on that one for a minute or two.

That's not good enough for me. Not good enough by a long shot. I wish I could stomp my feet in protest but that probably won't get me anywhere.


Hopping Mad.
Boiling Blood.
Stomping my feet.
Wagging my finger - SHAME!

Cow Road Trip "Up North!"

"Up North." Words that strike fear through the hearts of the Gordy's and Babes throughout the world.They know what we do; it's just a nicey nice  way of saying "off to the butcher, for YOU!" to a meat animal.

We don't raise pigs, since we don't eat any pork other than bacon. We do raise cattle. If I happened to know of any famous cows I'd have used them as an example so cut me some slack! ;p

Anyways: I just uploaded a video of our adventure. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pqJ6YaycgPA

We're hobby farmers, remember. And a little bit Redneckish.  So we make do with whats we gots. In our case, that's a makeshift corral using tube gates that are not intended for crowing or herding large animals, and an old rickety horse trailer that could REALLY use a new coat of paint.

The video shows Mr. Redneck Hillbillies wielding the "Cow Taser" or "Shocker!" like a crazy lunatic, but that's not exactly the case. While the cattle prod did come in handy, it was used as a last resort when gentle tapping wasn't quite effective in giving the cows the message to "GIT in the Tray-Ler!" 

They had a short life, but a good life. Grazing on lush green pasture with almost daily treats from our vegetable garden. We treated them as gently and humanely as possible, right up to that last road trip.

They once were four.  Now they are hundreds of little brown packages.

Yummy... Yummy little brown packages.