Mishka

This is Mishka. She was my cat from before I got married and was living alone in an old apartment in Kingston. As soon as Scott and I got back from our trip out West I went to the pet store in search of a female cat that I could name "Mishka" (I got the name from the movie "Don't Say a Word"..it was the girl's doll's name - the name means "mouse"). She was in the small cage with a little black male cat and she was obvioulsy older. She looked up at me with those green eyes and I instantly fell in love with her. Apparently another family had bought her and returned her..I took a little pity on her too.

Mishka is an odd cat. She doesn't really like strangers (except my brother, Travis; she jumped on his lapped and purred in bliss while he pet her the first time they met). The only people she'll allow to get near her usually are Scott or me. Sometimes she makes me smile because if she's sleeping peacefully beside me she'll suddenly start purring of contentment for no apparent reason...I think it's just because she's beside me. That's pretty nice. If I happen to be sad she comes and sits close to me to offer comfort.

Scott tends to make fun of her because she doesn't have the prettiest of meows. It sounds like she's saying "now"...which she probably is trying to say because she can be extremely demanding of attention. The tow male cats alsso like to bug her, but what she usually says to them is something I don't know how to spell...she growls and hisses though.

She's not all lovely though...she thinks it's ok to pee behind the toilet.It would be handy if I could train her to do it in the toilet.

very strange

Something weird happened here during the night. This morning I got up at 5:30 just as Scott was about to leave for work. I noticed that my guitar was on the floor in front of the t.v. even though I haven't played it for months and therefore it has been leaning against the wall for a long time. I asked Scott why it was there and he said he had no idea because he didn't know where it's supposed to be.
"You didn't put it there?" I asked.
"No"
I then noticed there was a pile of catfood on the floor directly beside the cat dish.
"Why is that there?" I inquired
He didn't know the answer to that either.

So my best assumption is that one of us was sleep-walking last night, but neither one of us are known to do that. It's either that or we have a mischevious ghost in our apartment.

A gorgeous day in Vancouver

Today was the first sunny day in a long time and I went down to the beach to enjoy the low tide. It's so nice to listen to the sound of the waves crashing, to smell the salty air, and feel the cold wind blowing in my hair. I love it. Some think that the kelp and shell-covered rocks look trashy, but I think it's beautiful.

A working housewife

The other day I had three people ask me why I didn't want more hours at work and what I did all day when I wasn't at work. I was really frustrated and I don't like answering these questions because I don't feel like people really understand anyway. I feel like they either think I'm lazy or that we're really rich. Neither one of those would be true.
I feel so satisfied at the end of a day full of cleaning, baking, cooking or running errands. I love knowing that we're eating healthy (most of the time), we're living in sanitary conditions, and that we can relax together when we are both home. Some people are able to do all this and also keep a full time job else where, but I'm not one of those people. I feel more tired at the end of the day at home than I do when I go to work. Every once in a while it will get really busy at work and because of the seniority that I've acquired they need me to work 6, somtimes 7 days in a row. I always feel so stressed out when this happens because I can't stay on top of my housework.

I really look forward to when we have a house and I can finally start my home daycare where I can do two things I love..work with kids and stay home. I plan to still stay on top of things by doing maintenance cleaning while the kids are sleeping or playing together. No one will question me anymore then. It may seem idealistic, but I only plan to care for 3 kids between the ages of 3 and 5. I love the age group because most of them are toilet-trained by then, they are becoming more independent, they begin to enjoy playing with their peers, and they are so inquisitive. I love interacting with them and talking about how things work and why they do what they do. I also like the idea of them being involved with things such as helping to prepare snack and putting the dishes away. It's a great time to teach them about helping others. I hope to have a yard where the kids can also have their own garden that they can care for and learn about the cycle of life. I could go on forever about all my plans, but I'll leave it at that for now.

This is Zeek. He's also known as Cake, Keeker-Phone, John Keeker-Phone, and Professor Zeek Beekins. He's percieved as our cutest cat because he's unusually small and quite fluffy. I have to agree that he is pretty cute. When he wants to show us affection he gets really close to our face and starts kneeding us with his little needle-claws and head-butts us.

His life is pretty sheltered and predictable. In his 2 years on this earth he has come to believe some interesting things.
1. The big, loud monster (the vacuum cleaner) is going to eat him, but if he hisses at it he may possibly have a chance.

2. If we try to brush his unruly hair he might die.

3. If he hears a can opener it always means that he's going to get tuna (sometimes it's just soup though).

4. One of these days he's going to figure out that knobby thing on the wall (the door stop) and it will succumb to his master hunting.

He and our other two cats really make us laugh...animals are great.

Remembering

I just made peanut butter cookies from the recipe on the Kraft Penaut Butter jar. They're super easy and taste great. They turned out pretty good, but I have to say that as long as I'm paying attention to what I'm doing my cookies generally turn out good. I attribute that to my Dad's advice of always using parchment paper and baking them at a lower temperature then what the recipe says. I used to ask my Dad for baking advice all the time.

My Dad has been on my mind a lot lately because yesterday was the 1 year anniversary of his passing and I've been remembering the things that made growing up with him so special. He stayed home with me when my Mom went to work and my siblings were in school. It was great. We'd go for bike rides, go the store (and sometimes I'd get a treat), and I'd eat the apple peels when he peeled apples for pies.

Although during my teenage years, and a few years beyond, we had our big disagreements, we came through the other side closer. I loved to go down to the Kingston market every Saturday to visit with him. I'd stay for hours and talk and get to know more about him.

Children and adults alike loved my Dad (particularly the kids who got free cookies from him). He was a fun-loving friendly guy who would stand up for the underdog and give the coat off his back for people. He was a gentleman who had so much love and respect for my Mom and he taught me that the man should always walk on the side of the woman where the traffic was.

He loved western movies (especially the ones with John Wayne), Johnny Cash, and Louis L'Amour books. Although he didn't get to travel a lot because of his job, he took advantage of the opportunity to go East to see my brother, Travis, and he loved every second of the gorgeous scenery. He always wanted to come out west as well, but never had the chance to. Sometimes it hurts when I think of that, but I know he knows what it looks like now. Every once in a while I'll be in the forest or on a mountain and I wish Dad could be there to share it with me. He loved the outdoors and respected the way nature took care of itself.

I wish you all could have known him, but I also hope that I carry on his virtues and pass them on as well.

I was talking to my mom tonight and we were talking about being patient and trusting God; discovering what it is He wants for us. I've always tried to listen to Him as best I could and to trust Him. As most of us who have ever prayed really hard for something know, what we want isn't necessarily what we get right away...if ever. Sometimes it's hard not to get frustrated with Him and ask: "Why?". What we should ask Him for is for what He thinks we need...how many of us do that though? That's a scary thing to do! It could be (and most likely is) a challenge, but it will help us to grow and be closer to Him. As someone who is not ready to be shown what He wants me to do, I need to accept and be grateful for what has been given to me and to wait for what else He has to offer me. Father knows best...

For 19 years I lived in the same house and slept in the same bedroom. A person gets used to the peaceful lifestyle of country living after that long. After 6 years of living in different cities and trying to appreciate all that is offered, such as convenience and excitement, I still long for a rural life. Sometimes when I'm lying in bed at night I remember what it was like growing up. I can still hear the wind moving through the tress in the forest behind my house that used to scare me so much at night. I could hear the wind approaching my yard as it moved each tree one by one, like they were doing the wave at a sporting event. It was always most noticeable at night. After a night of baby-sitting at my neighbours I would walk home and relish the sound - of course then I would start to imagine all the animals that hid in the shadows of those enchanted trees and who's sounds were masked and I would run home as fast as I could, careful not to run into the ditch at the edge of the yard in case one of those said animals were hiding there.

In the winter it would be a different story. The forest would be silent except for the sound of ice and snow falling from branches. Of course, then I would assume that those sounds could be a lone coyote stalking through the trees. If the moon was full and there was a blanket of snow on the ground I wouldn't need light from a flashlight or a porchlight, since ample light was provided.

Mornings always held a peacfulness to them and being afraid of night sounds seemed so silly to me then. I would wake up to the inviting aroma of fresh baked bread and pies and the sound of my Dad washing a big bowl in the bakery sink directly below my bedroom. I could always tell by the sound when he was washing the big plastic bowls, the big stainless steel bowls, or various mixing spoons. These sounds and smells would be most prominent in the summer time of course, when he was busiest. That time of year other smells and sounds would permeate my lungs when I stepped outside. The constant flow of tractors from the different farmers around the neighbourhood would present the sweet smell of fresh-cut hay or the not-so-sweet smell of fresh manure. The strangest thing of all is that I, unlike so many people, never liked the smell of fressh hay, but didn't mind the smell of manure (I wouldn't say I like it though). When I was quite young I would be slightly excited when I heard a tractor approaching and hoped that it might be one of the Forman boys..I had a crush on each of them at one point, even though they weren't always that nice to me when playing with my brother.

It's different now. As I lie in bed I can sometimes hear wind, but it's mixed with the sound of sirens, people from bars laughing and yelling, and car alarms. The lights from the big hotel across the street cast a different glow than the moon and I fear a different kind of animal in the shadows. I've had to sift through the human-made distractions to find different sounds and smells to save in my memory. Now I hear the sound of ocean waves crashing on rocks, rain dripping from giant fir trees, and seaguls calling for food. I smell salt water, fresh fish and pine sap. And the thing that makes this all most enjoyable is that I have a crush on a different boy and he's quite nice to me.

Insomnia

I was exhausted last night so I went to bed earlier than usual. It took me forever to fall asleep though. I went to bed at 9:30 and the last time I looked at the clock it was just after midnight. Bedtime is when I think of everything so sometimes my mind keeps me awake despite being completey wiped out. It doesn't have to be anything stressful to keep me awake either. Last night I was thinking about what I could make for supper tonight, which dishes I was going to focus on next for inventory at work, what moves I could try on the Rubik's Cube (I'm so close to finally solving it!), and of course, how I could blog about my inability to fall asleep. In the midst of all these things running through my mind I realized I was hungry at 11pm and I really wanted a cheeseburger from Fatburger. I settled for some chocolate covered cashews though. I'm really hoping I have more success tonight.