An hour ago, I walked in the house in a short sleeved top .... Welcome to Calgary!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Alberta April Showers
An hour ago, I walked in the house in a short sleeved top .... Welcome to Calgary!
Thursday, April 1, 2010
House-Sitter, Critter-Sitter
I housesat for a week for friends of mine. Childhood friends who've recently moved to Calgary. Otherwise .... I'd had said no.
I was "mom" to a chocolate lab, a black cat, 10 gold fish and 2 ....
are you ready for this .... ?
2 guinea pigs.
yup. you heard me right. guinea pigs.
I was so flippin' nervous when I got there. Their gross little beady eyes looking up at me, in their little cage making those horrific noises that sounds like mice.
The first time I had to feed them was traumatic. I must say. I was shaking a little. And I was completely FREAKED out. I had to change their water which was in a tube on the outside of the cage and had a spout that poked into the inside of the cage.
And - of course, the little metal thing that held the tube fell out and I had to fiddle with it to hook it back into the rungs in the cage. Took about a year, it felt like.
And the whole time, their little noses were poking around and I was literally, whimpering and shaking.
They didn't have to be fed for a few days because there was still food in the trough. But the morning I had to, I was so nervous because I had to actually put my hand in the cage and again their noses poking around my hand ...
They were in the front room, so I didn't have to see them much, but the very essence of them kept me creeped right out and I could hear them at night.
I'm a freakshow. But I was very proud of my accomplishments (not barfing, not letting them starve, not having a nervous breakdown) though still strongly holding a phobia to furry, fast things. (please see long-ago post titled, I believe "At least it wasn't a rat")
I was gone for 7 days, and was happy to see my own house and eat my own food. They had lots of good food and I ate lots of that good food. I don't have that kind of eats in my house because ... well, I eat that kind of stuff which goes against my cellulites religion!
So cheers to overcoming the impossible (just kidding) and cheers to sleeping in my own bed and to rib night tonight (speaking of cellulite).
My friend Stacey and her bf are hosting a rib, margarita and hottub night at his house. Should be fun. Should be interesting. They're all Italian. It'll make me miss Gord and Mo. And make me wish I had two stomachs. The ribs have been marinating for two days.
Peace yo!
L.
Wednesday, March 24, 2010
This is Why I Do It
Driving home from there a few weeks ago, Ryan and I stopped at a Husky gas station and there he was ! This kid! Working inside. We were so happy to see him, so we said a big hello etc.
Last week, I really needed gas for the car and thought I had brought $20 with me (I don't bring $$ or purse to the Seed, as theres no need). But I hadn't, I'd brought $10 and bought supper at Tim Hortons on my way, leaving $6.00. In the course of the chaos of the 5 hours I was there, I'd forgotten again that I didn't have much cash. So I pull up to the same Husky station, run inside to pay beforehand and after greeting him, ( I can't say his name, its against the rules )I reach in my pocket, whip out the paper money inside and say "I'd like $10 gas please". I look down and its a $5 bill. I giggle at my stupidity, Ryan raises the bar and laughs out loud.
Long story short: Former Guest says "put the $10 in your car, its on me".
I protested as did Ryan and Former Guest said "please let me, you guys were good to me when I needed it, the least I can do it buy you your gas".
He's still totally shy and doesn't appear excited when he sees us. But I'm over the top sometimes, so maybe he's scared.
But the moral the story is this:
When the guy who asks me for socks because the ones I gave him the first two times weren't good enough, or when I ask the guest to not sit on the stairs of the (inside office called the bridge) because its not allowed, seeing if theres an emergency, and we come rushing out, he's going to be run over by 350lb Ryan; and he responds with sneer telling me I'm 'only a volunteer' ...... the little guy at the Husky making his own way in the world now after a stint at the bottom, makes me forget all the mundane and routine that comes with the shine wearing off your new interest; and makes me thank God He's put me in this place and that somehow, somewhere I'm making a difference.
And reminds me to keep the faith and keep prayin' !
xo
Lea
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
I've Temporarily Moved
I've discovered in perusing my old posts that they are often heavy and deep
and unnecessary. It was an online timeline, journal, record of my topsy turvy life, but unnecessary much of the time.
So I've switched gears with a whole new blog.
You can find a more whimsical me at www.leeleemac.wordpress.com .
I promise not to bury you with my philisophical ramblings and deep, angst posts. This one is more poetic and random. Well, random is how I operate, but its a happier blog.
And until my life gets cheerier and easier, I'll stick with my new blog.
Dang it!
Just when I finally settled on a pretty background that matched!
Enjoy.
and unnecessary. It was an online timeline, journal, record of my topsy turvy life, but unnecessary much of the time.
So I've switched gears with a whole new blog.
You can find a more whimsical me at www.leeleemac.wordpress.com .
I promise not to bury you with my philisophical ramblings and deep, angst posts. This one is more poetic and random. Well, random is how I operate, but its a happier blog.
And until my life gets cheerier and easier, I'll stick with my new blog.
Dang it!
Just when I finally settled on a pretty background that matched!
Enjoy.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
Anatomy of a Seed Shift
I arrive. Organize my team. Go to the Bridge (the office encased in glass) and start my report.
Do my rounds to say hello to everyone at their volunteer stations and see how they're doing, get them any supplies they need etc. Bring them Crave cupcakes or supper, and chitchat.
I give a tour to the kitchen group, who've never been there before. I answer questions I've never heard before and show them the cool stuff that I love so much about the Seed.
Go back to the Bridge chat with staff, see which cute volunteers would be a good match for them. I had them convinced that it was my new calling to be the Seed volunteer Cupid. It is divine intervention, I argue.
I answer inquires from guests about my week, my work and listen to theirs. I get analyzed by a guest who figures me to be 'quite the rebel' and when he gets out of there, he'll take me for a ride on his Harley.
I get a blanket for a gentleman who "is only going to be there for the night" and we discover we're both Aquarians, so we talk about the virtues of being abstract and whimsical and thinking outside the box. He talking more than me.
I go to the front desk where a gentleman who is ripped on crack is yelling at staff that there are undercover cops in the shelter and he needs a safe phone to call the police. This poor soul, each week I see him, and am very leary of him and his silent stare, hunched gait and unstable demeanor. He is actually one of a few guests that I am literally afraid of. And tonight proved my instincts to be right.
The cops show up to take him away and first ask him what the problem is. To which his reply is incoherent and something about guns and SWAT teams. The cops tell him that they have to take him , he asks if they have somewhere to put him. The (cops) ask him if he was welcome at the DI (Drop In center downtown) to which his reply is "um, I don't know, what if I go peacefully, can I go peacefully with you?". The cop's answer is a firm and gentle "yes, you can come peacefully, you'll have to come peacefully." This poor guy, with a history of mental health issues and a crack cocaine addiction has two trench coats on, replacing the grey tweed one he's worn since I've been there (last May) and they are both done up, and tucked into his pants with the grey tweed sash securing it. His hair is everywhere despite just having showered, and his eyes are wild and empty. I thank God for my health and social situation.
I eat my dinner - Turkey a la King on Basmati rice with salad, a jellied salad and homemade carrot cake. Pretty yummy. Great kitchen group there tonight. Pius X church (?) Beautiful people.
I go back to the Bridge - finish my reports up.
Clean up is at 830. There are big windows in the wall seperating the kitchen/common area from the mats. When clean up comes, theres a mass exodus of guests to the other side of the glass where many of them stand and observe the clean-up crew, of which they are not a part of. So tonight I walked along the windowed wall, the side where the action was being watched from and said in a sing-songy voice "This isn't a spectators sport boys, why don't you grab a rag and help out". Which leads to the Team Lead coming up to me later saying "oh man, this is stupid, but did you call **** a 'boy'?" I told him what I just told you and he said "oh, **** told me you'd called him boy, which is racist". My reaction? Well, what race is he and how the heck is the word 'boy' racist??? (like, get real people, we can't say BOY now? ) Anyway, 350 lb, 6'5 Ryan tells Tim (team lead) to go tell **** the situation and if he doesn't like it, he can leave the facility.
So, of course, I'm called racist. It happens all the time to me. Its so dumb.
I say good night to the amazing staff and a few of the guests I've connected with, drive Ryan home, get caught behind a train (beside?), sit for 20 minutes and get caught up on all the news and giggle at silly stories.
It was a perfectly well rounded Seed night. Just enough calm, just enough front desk/police action and perfect amount of happy.
Peace and Love Y'all
LeeLeeM
Do my rounds to say hello to everyone at their volunteer stations and see how they're doing, get them any supplies they need etc. Bring them Crave cupcakes or supper, and chitchat.
I give a tour to the kitchen group, who've never been there before. I answer questions I've never heard before and show them the cool stuff that I love so much about the Seed.
Go back to the Bridge chat with staff, see which cute volunteers would be a good match for them. I had them convinced that it was my new calling to be the Seed volunteer Cupid. It is divine intervention, I argue.
I answer inquires from guests about my week, my work and listen to theirs. I get analyzed by a guest who figures me to be 'quite the rebel' and when he gets out of there, he'll take me for a ride on his Harley.
I get a blanket for a gentleman who "is only going to be there for the night" and we discover we're both Aquarians, so we talk about the virtues of being abstract and whimsical and thinking outside the box. He talking more than me.
I go to the front desk where a gentleman who is ripped on crack is yelling at staff that there are undercover cops in the shelter and he needs a safe phone to call the police. This poor soul, each week I see him, and am very leary of him and his silent stare, hunched gait and unstable demeanor. He is actually one of a few guests that I am literally afraid of. And tonight proved my instincts to be right.
The cops show up to take him away and first ask him what the problem is. To which his reply is incoherent and something about guns and SWAT teams. The cops tell him that they have to take him , he asks if they have somewhere to put him. The (cops) ask him if he was welcome at the DI (Drop In center downtown) to which his reply is "um, I don't know, what if I go peacefully, can I go peacefully with you?". The cop's answer is a firm and gentle "yes, you can come peacefully, you'll have to come peacefully." This poor guy, with a history of mental health issues and a crack cocaine addiction has two trench coats on, replacing the grey tweed one he's worn since I've been there (last May) and they are both done up, and tucked into his pants with the grey tweed sash securing it. His hair is everywhere despite just having showered, and his eyes are wild and empty. I thank God for my health and social situation.
I eat my dinner - Turkey a la King on Basmati rice with salad, a jellied salad and homemade carrot cake. Pretty yummy. Great kitchen group there tonight. Pius X church (?) Beautiful people.
I go back to the Bridge - finish my reports up.
Clean up is at 830. There are big windows in the wall seperating the kitchen/common area from the mats. When clean up comes, theres a mass exodus of guests to the other side of the glass where many of them stand and observe the clean-up crew, of which they are not a part of. So tonight I walked along the windowed wall, the side where the action was being watched from and said in a sing-songy voice "This isn't a spectators sport boys, why don't you grab a rag and help out". Which leads to the Team Lead coming up to me later saying "oh man, this is stupid, but did you call **** a 'boy'?" I told him what I just told you and he said "oh, **** told me you'd called him boy, which is racist". My reaction? Well, what race is he and how the heck is the word 'boy' racist??? (like, get real people, we can't say BOY now? ) Anyway, 350 lb, 6'5 Ryan tells Tim (team lead) to go tell **** the situation and if he doesn't like it, he can leave the facility.
So, of course, I'm called racist. It happens all the time to me. Its so dumb.
I say good night to the amazing staff and a few of the guests I've connected with, drive Ryan home, get caught behind a train (beside?), sit for 20 minutes and get caught up on all the news and giggle at silly stories.
It was a perfectly well rounded Seed night. Just enough calm, just enough front desk/police action and perfect amount of happy.
Peace and Love Y'all
LeeLeeM
Sunday, February 7, 2010
Bring it on 35! I Don't Even Give a Care!
Groundhog Day in pop culture is a day where regardless of any other news/wars/earthquakes/celebrity breakup-hookup-scandal-lovechild or other A-Listers accomplishments, its a rodent makes the front pages news.
Every February 2nd.
Will he see his shadow?
Did he see his shadow? Is there any repreive from our crazy, cold, Canadian winter?? Its all folklore, but its fun.
Its also my birthday. (every year - please cue amazingly un-unfunny comment that is equated to 'what day is it today?. Tuesday. All day")
February 2nd. 1975. A month early. 6lbs, 8oz. 8:00 am. Sydney, Nova Scotia. St. Rita's Hospital. Dr. Somebody ( i forget). Third child. Second daughter. Baby sister.
And every year, my Grandmie would ask me if I'd seen my shadow that morning. And this is the first year since she passed away that I remembered and it made me really sad.
And every year, I'd have some sort of party - a sleepover some years, which grew more popular as more babies entered our family. I'd get to pick what was for supper that night, which was always curry chicken. (now I kinda hate curry). And I'd get to wear my gift to school that day, always opening a present in the morning. On years I didn't particularly care about guests or much frou frou, we'd just have cake with grandparents and siblings around the big pine table.
Every year, its "my" new years resolution time. Just the non-conformist in me, I guess.
And every year in the past 5, its gotten harder to face this day. As the good memories of my childhood birthdays fade, and the harsh reality that is mid-thirties sets in, I just want the day to pass quietly and quickly.
So noone at the office, 'cept for my cube neighbour, Jen and another co-worker knew, and the latter took me out for lunch, while Jen. Oh. Dear. Jen.
Seriously, one of the sweetest girls I've ever met in my 'HOLE life. Everyday I realize how much nicer, sweeter, calmer, sincere, guileless I could and should be by just being around her. BUT she told the creepy guy who sits in the cube behind me. ( I am getting goosebumps reliving this ) who proceeded to email me at the end of the day asking me for lunch to 'mark the occasion'. *shiver down spine*. I was picturing his John Malkovic grin as he was probably sitting in his cube watching me read this email, hand frozen on mouse, swallowing hard as my mouth now resembled a giant cotton ball. I diplomatically wrote back bemoaning the state of my completely packed calendar for the next three lifetimes, "but I'd let him know". Don't be hatin' on me. One thing I've learned in life is trust your intuition .... and if you really want to give me a hard time about this judgement, I'll fill you in on a little secret .... my intuition is always right. Always.
Regardless, the day passed without the general population knowing and Julie, or JD, took me for sushi and spa night. It was glorious and amazing and we didn't want to leave. My toe nails are 'money green' and my hair was at its finest after a hottub and massage. Weren't we 'dishes' leaving there? Totally zen , hair looking like Barbara Streisand ran into an electric fence in the rain, and sleepy looking. Not just looking, but sleepy.
Then Maria, of course, came through in a big way - with a gorgeous little number for my bare wrist.
And this amazeballs scarf.
And wittle Ashwee painted this gorgeous picture for me. I love (to the tenth power) it.
The Mini Iris is from Dee. At church on Sunday, it was the Harvest Brunch (1st Sun of each month) and had my table decorated and a cake and a very public Happy Birthday song. (insert red face)
This is also from Ashley, who knows my love for the Office. And the wine cork too. A friend of Sarah's (Uriah's sister) made it. Super cute. *Side note* I'm an awful gift giver, I've somehow lost my touch of finding the perfect card and gift, so instead of sending something half-ass, I send nothing - and quite frankly, feel bad taking presents seeing I'm the worst in the history of all man-kind.
And to top off the week, I retreated, ran, hid, fled, escaped to the amazing countryside of Millarville. (Where I went horseback riding last May). I had this whole space to myself.
Truly tranquil.
Looking West. I wish everyone could experience these mountains.
At the edge of the Rockies.
This outdoor rink is right below her house and this is the only sound I heard all weekend.
I should clarify who 'her' is. A friend of Ray and Dee's owns this house, mansion, really, about 35 mins outside Calgary and she lends it out to people who want to come and totally relax. She holds retreats sometimes too. Its a concrete house with a huge wrap-around deck. I'm definitely going back there in the summer.
Every February 2nd.
Will he see his shadow?
Did he see his shadow? Is there any repreive from our crazy, cold, Canadian winter?? Its all folklore, but its fun.
Its also my birthday. (every year - please cue amazingly un-unfunny comment that is equated to 'what day is it today?. Tuesday. All day")
February 2nd. 1975. A month early. 6lbs, 8oz. 8:00 am. Sydney, Nova Scotia. St. Rita's Hospital. Dr. Somebody ( i forget). Third child. Second daughter. Baby sister.
And every year, my Grandmie would ask me if I'd seen my shadow that morning. And this is the first year since she passed away that I remembered and it made me really sad.
And every year, I'd have some sort of party - a sleepover some years, which grew more popular as more babies entered our family. I'd get to pick what was for supper that night, which was always curry chicken. (now I kinda hate curry). And I'd get to wear my gift to school that day, always opening a present in the morning. On years I didn't particularly care about guests or much frou frou, we'd just have cake with grandparents and siblings around the big pine table.
Every year, its "my" new years resolution time. Just the non-conformist in me, I guess.
And every year in the past 5, its gotten harder to face this day. As the good memories of my childhood birthdays fade, and the harsh reality that is mid-thirties sets in, I just want the day to pass quietly and quickly.
So noone at the office, 'cept for my cube neighbour, Jen and another co-worker knew, and the latter took me out for lunch, while Jen. Oh. Dear. Jen.
Seriously, one of the sweetest girls I've ever met in my 'HOLE life. Everyday I realize how much nicer, sweeter, calmer, sincere, guileless I could and should be by just being around her. BUT she told the creepy guy who sits in the cube behind me. ( I am getting goosebumps reliving this ) who proceeded to email me at the end of the day asking me for lunch to 'mark the occasion'. *shiver down spine*. I was picturing his John Malkovic grin as he was probably sitting in his cube watching me read this email, hand frozen on mouse, swallowing hard as my mouth now resembled a giant cotton ball. I diplomatically wrote back bemoaning the state of my completely packed calendar for the next three lifetimes, "but I'd let him know". Don't be hatin' on me. One thing I've learned in life is trust your intuition .... and if you really want to give me a hard time about this judgement, I'll fill you in on a little secret .... my intuition is always right. Always.
Regardless, the day passed without the general population knowing and Julie, or JD, took me for sushi and spa night. It was glorious and amazing and we didn't want to leave. My toe nails are 'money green' and my hair was at its finest after a hottub and massage. Weren't we 'dishes' leaving there? Totally zen , hair looking like Barbara Streisand ran into an electric fence in the rain, and sleepy looking. Not just looking, but sleepy.
Then Maria, of course, came through in a big way - with a gorgeous little number for my bare wrist.
And this amazeballs scarf.
And wittle Ashwee painted this gorgeous picture for me. I love (to the tenth power) it.
The Mini Iris is from Dee. At church on Sunday, it was the Harvest Brunch (1st Sun of each month) and had my table decorated and a cake and a very public Happy Birthday song. (insert red face)
This is also from Ashley, who knows my love for the Office. And the wine cork too. A friend of Sarah's (Uriah's sister) made it. Super cute. *Side note* I'm an awful gift giver, I've somehow lost my touch of finding the perfect card and gift, so instead of sending something half-ass, I send nothing - and quite frankly, feel bad taking presents seeing I'm the worst in the history of all man-kind.
And to top off the week, I retreated, ran, hid, fled, escaped to the amazing countryside of Millarville. (Where I went horseback riding last May). I had this whole space to myself.
Truly tranquil.
Looking West. I wish everyone could experience these mountains.
At the edge of the Rockies.
This outdoor rink is right below her house and this is the only sound I heard all weekend.
I should clarify who 'her' is. A friend of Ray and Dee's owns this house, mansion, really, about 35 mins outside Calgary and she lends it out to people who want to come and totally relax. She holds retreats sometimes too. Its a concrete house with a huge wrap-around deck. I'm definitely going back there in the summer.
That's it for now, folks. The adventure never ends though, so stayed tuned for the never-ending instabilty that governs my life. Heres a thought: You know when you're doing any kind of exercise at the gym, the more unstable you, the harder your abs are working to, well, stabilize the rest of you? Well, I wonder if thats true about life. The more unstable your situation is, does that mean that you're "life abs", your, let's say spiritual (in the non religious way) core is stronger? Right now, its just making me a basket case, but in the long run .... ?
Really going this time ...
LeeLeeMac - til next post, while you wait with bated breath. :-)
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