Oh God. I’m at it again. I’ve picked up my old copy of Marathoning for Mortals by John Bingham and Jenny Hadfield and I’m giving it another go. Edge to Edge 2017. My middle daughter has tentatively agreed to run with me which will definitely make the long runs more fun! So, just pointing out that I’m starting this at about 50 pounds too heavy and zero running as of late. Wish me luck!
Earthathon 2015 here I come! I just signed up and I’m about to complete my first run for my team #RunderfulRunners .
Want to know more? Want to join in?
EARTHATHON is a 25,000-mile running relay. We tweet our running in miles or km to #earthathon. Run anywhere. One team, one planet. Join Us Today. Be A Part of Something Big. Become an “Earthathoner.” Click HERE to visit the official website.
I am truly and seriously tired of boxing up all my different facets so they are separate and distinct and easy for people to “get.” Mostly this has happened from an advertising and social media standpoint, but oh là, have these last few years been exhausting. A page for this. A website for that. An account for this and another for that.
Essential Oil Advocate.
Real Estate Agent.
Feng Shui Practioner.
Professional Stock Trader.
All of them separate and distinct and so very fractional.
AAAAAAARGH! Shoot me now! (not literally – that was metaphoric)
think know I fell prey to the gimmicky marketing stuff that says one needs to hone in on one’s market so that potentially uninformed people will know exactly what it is you are offering and therefore they will somehow become miraculously decisive and buy in to your miracle the moment they land on your very concise page.
No. Not Really.
I am so done with that. If you need help, you’ll get it. You don’t need me (or anyone else!) trying to convince you. If you *need* lettuce, you *get* lettuce. It’s pretty simple. Try to remember that the next time the late night infomercials are on.
SO. Be forewarned. It’s about to get messy, folks. I’m here for me. I’m not selling my stuff, I’m just here to be happy and to leave some thoughts. Feel free to follow along if you want to, but I can’t guarantee the ride is going to be laser focused. In fact, it won’t be focused. It’s going to be scattered like sh*t in a field, but I think it’s going to fun sh*t. At least most of the time. I’m all about spreading the love, you know?
A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, visited their old university professor. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life. Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups – porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite – telling them to help themselves to hot coffee.
When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the professor said: “If you noticed, all the nice looking expensive cups were taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is but normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress. What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups and were eyeing comparing, perhaps jealously, with each other’s cups.
Now if life is coffee, then the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, but the quality of Life doesn’t change. Some times, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee in it.”
So, don’t let the cups deceive you! Enjoy the coffee instead.
1. Dress in only 3 layers and leave your mittens at home. The weather in the north has never been know to change FAST. Never. You won’t lose feeling in your hands the first ten minutes out. Honest. 3 layers is plenty of protection.
2. Next, be sure to pack no food in your boat so that you and everyone else are miserable when DH, the Fisherman King, decides to skip coming in for lunch so that he can eke out every last moment of the derby.
3. DO nearly lose the prize winning fish as DH brings it to the boat and you scoop with the net. It makes for very terse words and strained expressions which I’m sure you’ll be able to laugh about. In a few years.
4. Be certain to not fish. Your job is to keep everyone else happy and untangle fish hooks from children’s hair and clothing and speak through clenched teeth as situations require (see 3).
5. LOL. A lot. Now.
Seriously, we had lots of fun at the fishing derby and came home with many prizes, but it was a chilly day. We’ve eaten all our fish for supper last night and they were tasty. NWT pike is a treat.
And more firsts!
We saw a mother black bear and her cubs on shore while we were fishing. They were rooting around and digging up the ground.
I’ve forgotten to mention that two weeks ago I saw my first NWT aurora borealis. Can you imagine? The northern lights in August? I was amazed and captivated. So beautiful.
I just want to let it be known that I am a phenomenal, I repeat PHENOMENAL recycler. So phenomenal that I’m annoying. Just ask DH, he’ll tell you all about it.
anal phenomenal I may be, my organizational skills at said recycling are rather lacking. I’d hoped I’d be better at this house, but sadly it is not the case.
For a week the blue box of cardboard and paper and cans sat by the fireplace in the livingroom before being relegated to the foyer. There they sat, in the way, for a few more days. I won’t mention the stack of paper and how it has been taking up space on my beautiful counter since we moved in.
Then we had visitors coming, so I moved everything to the garage (read: DH’s sacred space). Now understand that the garage is lacking a certain order at the moment due to an overabundance of
crap DH’s beloved items and so the blue boxes are sitting in the middle of the floor, on some boxes, kind of up high where they are hard to reach (don’t ask how I got them up there, I damned near killed myself, but it was the only place, I swear).
Since I’m pressed for time and a bit on the short side (not to mention lazy), I’ve developed the habit of opening the door from house to garage and sort of pitching the milk jugs to the blue bin. Due to their squished state and awkward flight plan most of the time they miss and bounce off into the abyss.
At some point DH is going to wander around the other side of the boxes and find the milk jugs and lose his mind. Of course, I could go get a ladder and put them in proper, but the element of danger involved with DH’s mind loss adds a certain excitement to my recycling endeavors.
However, I am nothing if not thoughtful (most of the time), so my friends, colleagues and cohorts, in deference to DH’s sanity, I need your help. Send me your fabulous recycling tips and ideas for staying organized.
It would be most helpful and I shall remain forever indebted (mostly).
Having come from Alberta which has a fabulous library system in which you can access books from across the province and sometimes even Canada, I’m feeling a bit glum tonight.
I’ve gone and gotten my library card. It was free, but I wouldn’t have minded to pay a membership fee — especially if it meant there were more books available.
The sad truth is that NWT does not have enough books. I understand completely that they don’t have near the population base as Alberta, but still I’m glum.
I have a burgeoning list of books that I want to read, but are not yet in my possession. I have searched through the NWT library system and found TWO of them. Two of approximately twenty.
Did I mention that I’m really, really, REALLY glad that there’s a great book store in town and that Amazon and Chapters have free shipping after $39?
It’s going to be a lifesaver, but man, there goes my budget.
What about you? Do you buy new/used, use the library, a combination of both?
Last night (actually days ago now) we had the enlightening experience of eating at one of Yellowknife’s more famous eateries, Bullock’s Bistro.
Basically, it’s a two person team catering to a shackfull of enthusiastic patrons. From the cooler you help yourself to whatever brew you choose. Take your pick of fish (whitefish, arctic char or trout), decide whether it’s grilled, pan fried in butter or deep fried and voila! You can watch it being cooked in the “open” kitchen by the chef. When it’s done, it’s plopped in front of you with a generous serving of “real” fries, a salad and a scrumptious dressing. It doesn’t get much simpler than that.
While you wait for your meal there’s no shortage of reading material…one only has to look at the walls plastered with sentiments and signatures of former patrons or read the multitudinous and motley display of bumper stickers and signs.
“Jesus loves you, but the rest of us think you’re a butthole” was a particular favorite with DD2. I’m not sure what to make of that, but it was fun to see her giggle.
It’s a neat little place and the food is terrific. We’ll definitely go back once our wallet recovers!
At the visitor information centre just beyond this sign they sell “Bug Gear” to help visitors ward off the incessant black flies and mosquitoes.
Upon fingering a white suit vented with a very fine mesh (”tight and white” is the way to go to avoid bites), I was heartily regaled with impressive stories of the black fly’s tenacity in exsanguination.
I watched the storyteller with a critical eye, keen for embellishment, but could find none in her countenance. She was deadly serious when she said we each needed one of these if we were venturing out onto the tundra or heading into the backwoods. Obviously she felt it her duty to warn us ahead of time.
I thought everyone was exaggerating when they said the bugs were bad. That they were doing that thing where residents take an odd sense of pride in bragging about how bad they’ve got it in an attempt to awe the tourists with their bravery.
Apparently I’ve moved myself and my delicately skinned babies to Black Fly Utopia where the insects shall feast upon us like…well, let’s just say they won’t have the opportunity.
Let’s just let it be known that I’m a good mother and that I’ll be shelling out the big bucks for the suits and that you can well imagine the Pater Family trooping around Yellowknife and vicinity running their errands much like a wayward HazMat team.
That is if we’re not trampled by the buffalo first.
Oh yeah, that’s right.
In the ditch.
On the road.
In the car with you if they like.
All the way from Fort Providence north to Yellowknife – 236 km of big, brown road hazard with attitude.
And let it be known that they don’t move for the vehicles…the vehicles move for them.
I’m told they don’t come into town, but that the caribou do…which I’m looking forward to. It’ll be winter by then and the HazMat suits will have been stowed and exchanged for the snowsuits, so that we can lay on the rocks in our backyard and watch the aurora borealis.
LOL. I don’t know if my skin will ever see sun again. I’m hoping so!
I can’t tell you yet if all of our goods have arrived safe and sound, because we don’t move into our house until Friday. Fingers crossed that all is well, though and that the buffalo haven’t messed with the moving truck!
These are the days of my life.
See you soon in Yellowknife!