Still on vacay (horror of horrors, Calabogie now has internet! I'm trying not to over use it, but this was just tooooooooooooooo good not to share).
A scene from the beach:
Dubai-Mommy sitting on the beach with Dubai-Angel, while Grandma, Dubai-Angela and yours truly are swimming in the lake.
Dubai-Mommy: Angela, 10 more minutes and it's time to get out for a nap time.
Dubai-Angela (to Mommy): Okay. (To Grandma): Grandma, I want you to get out with me
Grandma: to nap?
Dubai-Angela: no, to work.
Yours truly: it's vacation! Grandma's not working.
Grandma: what would I do.
Dubai-Angela: well, you could always cook dinner, for example...
Sigh...
Tuesday, July 21, 2009
Friday, July 17, 2009
And We're Off!
It's that time of the year again - Calabogie is just a few hours away. It's our crazy family reunion (although we've *mostly* all seen each other in the past couple of weeks as the various parts of my family trickle into Ottawa from Dubai and Cali, it's not official until we're sitting around the dinner table - elbowing each other and asking someone to pass the salt/salad/water, with the windows open and the lake just a few steps away).
M and I are tacking a little weekend getaway to TO on the end of the week, to hang out with his folks and the always articulate K.
I hope to come back refreshed and sunburnt (and, ideally, with a pile of great nature photos and hilarious stories about my little angels discovering nature.)
Talk to y'all in a few days!
M and I are tacking a little weekend getaway to TO on the end of the week, to hang out with his folks and the always articulate K.
I hope to come back refreshed and sunburnt (and, ideally, with a pile of great nature photos and hilarious stories about my little angels discovering nature.)
Talk to y'all in a few days!
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Once Again, he just says it so well
So, a few of days ago I was opining about how I was too hooked on technology, and then last night, I read this hilarious little gem from Scott Feschuk. I couldn't get through the last two paragraphs in one go because I was laughing so hard my eyes couldn't focus. I would LOVE to have this man's sense of humour. Since I don't, I'm point you straight to him for the article.
Little Angel Sandwiches
My current goal in life is to be the favourite aunt of my nieces and nephews. The way I approach this is to be around often enough that they see me, but not so often that I have a lot of opportunities (or need) to punish them for misbehaving.
This last week, I was in Ottawa from Monday instead of Tuesday for a course, and just got home tonight... My nieces and nephews, all 5 of them, were extremely thrilled to have me. (Part of the mystique was, of course, that I disappeared every morning at 10 a.m. and wasn't back before 6'ish).
At dinner, I would often find myself the pb and j in a Little Angela sandwich, seated between my California Angela and my Dubai Angela, each cutie-patootie doing her best to out-talk the other. More than dinner, though, was bedtime... The girls, especially, each had to have their night where they slept next to "Khalto Noosa" (or thought they slept next to me all night. I would lie there until they drifted off to sleep, and then get up to continue my evening.)
One night, though, was especially funny: it was Cali-Angela's turn for me to sleep next to her, and as we lay there, Dubai-Angela found an excuse to come into the room, and, eventually, got permission to sleep there too. She made her way to the other side of me, and put an arm across my shoulder. By this point, we had told our bedtime stories, read our Quran, and were in 'silent mode'. Cali-Angela was lying quietly on my left side, trying to fall asleep, but Dubai-Angela had no such plans.
She started by stroking my shoulder lovingly and repeatedly, as though I was the child and she was the aunt and she was the one putting me to bed. And for some reason, probably because I was trying to be completely silent and pretend I was asleep, this gave me the giggles. I tried to laugh silently, but she could feel me shaking, which, in turn, caused her to start laughing, and the whole idea of sleep was then in jeopardy - a laughing 3-year old stands very little chance of calming down at bed time.
By this time, Cali-Angela noticed that Dubai-Angela was practically hugging me, and there is nothing a little girl wants more than something another little girl - especially her cousin - has. So now they were both hugging me. Problem: if they ever feel asleep, how would extract myself from the tangle of arms and legs without waking them up...
When I finally managed to calm myself, Dubai-Angela upped the ante, leaning over and whispering, in her newly acquired English and her best angelic voice, "I love you Khalto Noosa". I laughed. She laughed. Cali-Angela laughed. and so the evening continued and sleep seemed very, very far away...
It was 40 minutes before I got out of the now-sleeping Angela sandwich. The next night, the sandwich was an Angel sandwich. Small sacrifice for the return, really.
This last week, I was in Ottawa from Monday instead of Tuesday for a course, and just got home tonight... My nieces and nephews, all 5 of them, were extremely thrilled to have me. (Part of the mystique was, of course, that I disappeared every morning at 10 a.m. and wasn't back before 6'ish).
At dinner, I would often find myself the pb and j in a Little Angela sandwich, seated between my California Angela and my Dubai Angela, each cutie-patootie doing her best to out-talk the other. More than dinner, though, was bedtime... The girls, especially, each had to have their night where they slept next to "Khalto Noosa" (or thought they slept next to me all night. I would lie there until they drifted off to sleep, and then get up to continue my evening.)
One night, though, was especially funny: it was Cali-Angela's turn for me to sleep next to her, and as we lay there, Dubai-Angela found an excuse to come into the room, and, eventually, got permission to sleep there too. She made her way to the other side of me, and put an arm across my shoulder. By this point, we had told our bedtime stories, read our Quran, and were in 'silent mode'. Cali-Angela was lying quietly on my left side, trying to fall asleep, but Dubai-Angela had no such plans.
She started by stroking my shoulder lovingly and repeatedly, as though I was the child and she was the aunt and she was the one putting me to bed. And for some reason, probably because I was trying to be completely silent and pretend I was asleep, this gave me the giggles. I tried to laugh silently, but she could feel me shaking, which, in turn, caused her to start laughing, and the whole idea of sleep was then in jeopardy - a laughing 3-year old stands very little chance of calming down at bed time.
By this time, Cali-Angela noticed that Dubai-Angela was practically hugging me, and there is nothing a little girl wants more than something another little girl - especially her cousin - has. So now they were both hugging me. Problem: if they ever feel asleep, how would extract myself from the tangle of arms and legs without waking them up...
When I finally managed to calm myself, Dubai-Angela upped the ante, leaning over and whispering, in her newly acquired English and her best angelic voice, "I love you Khalto Noosa". I laughed. She laughed. Cali-Angela laughed. and so the evening continued and sleep seemed very, very far away...
It was 40 minutes before I got out of the now-sleeping Angela sandwich. The next night, the sandwich was an Angel sandwich. Small sacrifice for the return, really.
Friday, June 26, 2009
One Trash Bin + One Year
These people put me to shame. I need to - at the very least - recycle more. And think about it before I go around buying things I don't really need. and figure out how to get rid of things I don't want anymore in the best way possible (as in, donate to people who need the stuff, organizations, freecycle, etc.)
Seriously, one garbage bin's worth of trash all year. 1!!!!
For more details and a consistent dose of inspiration, I've added their blog to the blogroll: Clean Bin Project.
Enjoy.
Seriously, one garbage bin's worth of trash all year. 1!!!!
For more details and a consistent dose of inspiration, I've added their blog to the blogroll: Clean Bin Project.
Enjoy.
Thursday, June 25, 2009
Power Out
Do you know that song, Power Out, by The Arcade Fire? That was my evening yesterday, in Ottawa.
First, let me set the stage: the day before, I had arrived at my parents' place after work and it was alive. The Angels, all five of them, ran to the door to greet me. The oldest California Angela let me in before I had finished rummaging for my keys. Her baby brother blocked me by trying to run out to hug me. It was lovely.
All evening, the place was buzzing. Kids playing/fighting/singing/screaming/exchanging toys/yanking toys out of each other's hands, and their moms (and my mom and dad) preparing for a little trip they were going to take to Toronto. So, Tuesday, a house with 5 children 6 and under, and 5 adults. Wednesday, me.
My plan, early on in the day, involved a trip to the gym after work, but as it got closer to quitting time, the heat had taken its toll on me. I felt like I was melting, and had no interest in getting any hotter. So I went home instead. At the grocery store in the plaza next to my parent's house, I bought two oranges and went in search of their spelt bread (the store has just changed hands, which means some of our "alternative" products are usually eliminated or modified... I have to say, the new company is not as interested in providing the allergy free stuff as the old one was) I was walking up the last aisle when the power cut. Darkness. Kinda refreshing, actually.
They were still able to check me through at the cash, but when I got home, I realized it wasn't just the plaza, it was the whole neighbourhood.
I could read, right? well, I could, but I didn't feel like it. I wanted radio. I wanted noise. The problem was that my mp3 player's battery was almost dead, and all the other radios in the house worked off electricity. No good. I used my laptop until the battery died (25 minutes, no internet, obviously). I switched to my dad's laptop. 25 more minutes. I dug up the flashlight ad emergency candles, in case. I sat there feeling pathetic that I didn't know what to do without outside stimulus. But I didn't.
In Montreal, I would have gone for a bike ride. In Ottawa, I have no bike. I eventually went back to the plaza to find their power returned before it did at the house.
I am resolved to find some way to not need technology so much. But right now, what I have is proof of dependency.
I'm writing this from Montreal, on my now-charged laptop, with another window open on another blog, a third on facebook, and a fourth on my email. Must stop?
First, let me set the stage: the day before, I had arrived at my parents' place after work and it was alive. The Angels, all five of them, ran to the door to greet me. The oldest California Angela let me in before I had finished rummaging for my keys. Her baby brother blocked me by trying to run out to hug me. It was lovely.
All evening, the place was buzzing. Kids playing/fighting/singing/screaming/exchanging toys/yanking toys out of each other's hands, and their moms (and my mom and dad) preparing for a little trip they were going to take to Toronto. So, Tuesday, a house with 5 children 6 and under, and 5 adults. Wednesday, me.
My plan, early on in the day, involved a trip to the gym after work, but as it got closer to quitting time, the heat had taken its toll on me. I felt like I was melting, and had no interest in getting any hotter. So I went home instead. At the grocery store in the plaza next to my parent's house, I bought two oranges and went in search of their spelt bread (the store has just changed hands, which means some of our "alternative" products are usually eliminated or modified... I have to say, the new company is not as interested in providing the allergy free stuff as the old one was) I was walking up the last aisle when the power cut. Darkness. Kinda refreshing, actually.
They were still able to check me through at the cash, but when I got home, I realized it wasn't just the plaza, it was the whole neighbourhood.
I could read, right? well, I could, but I didn't feel like it. I wanted radio. I wanted noise. The problem was that my mp3 player's battery was almost dead, and all the other radios in the house worked off electricity. No good. I used my laptop until the battery died (25 minutes, no internet, obviously). I switched to my dad's laptop. 25 more minutes. I dug up the flashlight ad emergency candles, in case. I sat there feeling pathetic that I didn't know what to do without outside stimulus. But I didn't.
In Montreal, I would have gone for a bike ride. In Ottawa, I have no bike. I eventually went back to the plaza to find their power returned before it did at the house.
I am resolved to find some way to not need technology so much. But right now, what I have is proof of dependency.
I'm writing this from Montreal, on my now-charged laptop, with another window open on another blog, a third on facebook, and a fourth on my email. Must stop?
Saturday, June 20, 2009
More Little Angels
My parent's house is like a playground, but in 3 more days, it will be like a small, Montessori-style daycare. Dubai-sis, with her two little angels, has been here for nearly two months. Cali-sis is on her way in a few days, with her three little angels. I am insanely excited at the prospect.
It's been a year since the various munchkins interacted, and a year is a life time for small children.
The two youngest, born a month less a day apart, were one when they last met... that was old enough to kind of laugh together and crawl around each other, with the possibility of tentative steps occurring. This time, they'll be over two. I predict one way conversations, where each rambles in his version of baby-talk to the other and then doesn't wait to see what his cousin has to say back before continuing.
The three older angels will be 6, 5, and 3.5, respectively. In the year they've been apart, both my female Dubai Angela and California Angela have become more enamoured with clothing, brushing their hair, and the colours pink and purple. My Dubai Angela has even modified an old Egyptian saying to stress the importance of pink:
Bahibbik add il-donya - meaning "I love as much as the whole world", has been modified to bahibbik add il-bamba - meaning "I love you as much as pink".
We'll have to see whether the Angelas gang up on the Angel and insist on games revolving around tea time and bows in their hair, or whether he'll manage to entice them with a little bit of tag...
Regardless, children are a blast to observe... I'm planning on having some fun.
It's been a year since the various munchkins interacted, and a year is a life time for small children.
The two youngest, born a month less a day apart, were one when they last met... that was old enough to kind of laugh together and crawl around each other, with the possibility of tentative steps occurring. This time, they'll be over two. I predict one way conversations, where each rambles in his version of baby-talk to the other and then doesn't wait to see what his cousin has to say back before continuing.
The three older angels will be 6, 5, and 3.5, respectively. In the year they've been apart, both my female Dubai Angela and California Angela have become more enamoured with clothing, brushing their hair, and the colours pink and purple. My Dubai Angela has even modified an old Egyptian saying to stress the importance of pink:
Bahibbik add il-donya - meaning "I love as much as the whole world", has been modified to bahibbik add il-bamba - meaning "I love you as much as pink".
We'll have to see whether the Angelas gang up on the Angel and insist on games revolving around tea time and bows in their hair, or whether he'll manage to entice them with a little bit of tag...
Regardless, children are a blast to observe... I'm planning on having some fun.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Wow! (and not in a good way)
Okay, so by this point, I'm seeming borderline obsessed with the Obamas, but this was too horrible to ignore. I'm just thinking, really? Honestly? Hmmmm... I'm saying hmmm because I don't want to say anything nastier, or more horrible, but I'm also honestly perplexed that someone could percieve this as a joke. That someone could consider this funny. Apparently, there are still people who consider a comparison of African Americans and apes amusing.
We are so not as far along as I like to delude myself into thinking. Gross.
We are so not as far along as I like to delude myself into thinking. Gross.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Is Barack Obama Ruining your Marriage?
Apparently, he's ruining this guy's marriage... It seems the gentleman who wrote this article is a little miffed that people compare Mr. Pres to the average guy who doesn't have Air Force One at his disposal for a quick trip to New York or Paris, never mind the cooks, maids, and gardeners.
Good for a quick laugh, and more evidence of how Obama has somehow morphed into the perfect-everything, not just a model politician, in the minds of the media.
Good for a quick laugh, and more evidence of how Obama has somehow morphed into the perfect-everything, not just a model politician, in the minds of the media.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
The Pot and the Kettle
Let it be known that I prefer Iggy to Harper. Let it also be known that I still find Iggy a little too self-important (and I have a story to elaborate on my point, but that'll be a post for another day). In the meantime, I give you this laugh-out-loud article from Scott Feschuk comparing Iggy's hyperbole to Harper's arrogance.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Well, at least now I have a new record to break for next time...
I broke. At 2 a.m. this morning, despite trying to satisfy my sweet-tooth craving with raisins and walnuts and repeatedly telling myself to just go to sleep Noha. Nothing good can come of this, I opened the freezer and reached for - gasp! - the cookies and cream ice cream. It wasn't a rash decision. My mind knew full well what my hands were doing. I even stopped to calculate how far I'd gotten, to decide if the number of consecutive allergy-free days was respectable enough to break now, or if I should hold off a little longer. 49 days. Respectable. I had the cookies and cream ice cream. I had some chocolate fudge brownie ice cream too, for good measure. And then, only then, did I finally go to sleep.
I won't lie. They tasted positively divine, but if I was expecting harps playing in the background, or the sensation of being carried off to some dessert-flavoured, chocolate-based, culinary heaven, it didn't happen. Things you can't have always seem soooooooooooooooooo much better than what you can.
I woke up with a stomach-ache this morning, but I suppose I earned it. I've also decided that today is a day off. A day to allow myself to indulge in whatever else so that tomorrow, when I start again, I'm not already craving things. I've basically decided that I'm failing today to succeed later. Twisted logic? Maybe. An excuse to stuff myself with anything and everything today? Also maybe. But a funny thing is happening so far: I've had a slice of cheesecake that was in the fridge, left over from a visit we had on Friday, and nothing else. I've been down to press cafe, and looked at the brownies and cupcakes, felt nothing, and ordered my usual coffee. I think I'll end up getting something else, something gooey and chewy and wheat-based, and chocolatey-sweet, before the day is over. But if I don't, it'll be okay because I know how to make the wheat-free, dairy-free, processed-sugar-free version from scratch now. And tomorrow I'll start over. And while last time, my goal was to go as long as I could, this time, I'll have a number in mind. I want to get to 50 days of allergy-free food. At least. 50 days and beyond. Far, far beyond.
I won't lie. They tasted positively divine, but if I was expecting harps playing in the background, or the sensation of being carried off to some dessert-flavoured, chocolate-based, culinary heaven, it didn't happen. Things you can't have always seem soooooooooooooooooo much better than what you can.
I woke up with a stomach-ache this morning, but I suppose I earned it. I've also decided that today is a day off. A day to allow myself to indulge in whatever else so that tomorrow, when I start again, I'm not already craving things. I've basically decided that I'm failing today to succeed later. Twisted logic? Maybe. An excuse to stuff myself with anything and everything today? Also maybe. But a funny thing is happening so far: I've had a slice of cheesecake that was in the fridge, left over from a visit we had on Friday, and nothing else. I've been down to press cafe, and looked at the brownies and cupcakes, felt nothing, and ordered my usual coffee. I think I'll end up getting something else, something gooey and chewy and wheat-based, and chocolatey-sweet, before the day is over. But if I don't, it'll be okay because I know how to make the wheat-free, dairy-free, processed-sugar-free version from scratch now. And tomorrow I'll start over. And while last time, my goal was to go as long as I could, this time, I'll have a number in mind. I want to get to 50 days of allergy-free food. At least. 50 days and beyond. Far, far beyond.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
Surprise!
When I said my sister and her kids' arrival from Dubai was pending, I meant pending. Last Monday, Dubai-sis and the Little Angels arrived in Montreal as part of a little surprise for my parents, who weren't expecting them for another two weeks. The accomplices in our little plan were my sis and her hubby in Dubai (well, they were actually the engineers, the rest of us were accomplices) and my sister and I, plus our hubbies, here in Montreal. We've been keeping our little secret for months, casually fake-counting-down the days until their arrival with my parents, and finally, the day had arrived.
At the airport, my sister's flight arrived shortly after another one from Mexico city, and the cbc was there to cover the Mexico flight given the whole swine flu, thing, so we were hanging back as we waited for her, hoping that my parents wouldn't happen to be watching the news on cbc that night... She told us later that the porter who helped bring her bags out walked really slowly so as not to come in contact with "the mexicans" as he would say it, and kept telling her to keep the kids back. Now, my dear sis makes a point of avoiding the news (too depressing, she'll tell you) and had essentially spent the last two days in transit. When she'd left Dubai, the story was still breaking. By the time she'd arrived, it was everywhere, but she'd missed the whole thing. All she could think was "why is my porter racist? How unfortunate..."
I took Tuesday off work, rented a van, and she and I drove up with the little angels alternately fighting and falling asleep in the backseat. We called my parents when we were about 40 minutes away, and they were confused, then surprised, then thrilled. My mom actually figured we were on some sort of three way conference call when she heard my sister's voice on my phone.
Now, they're here for the next three months. Next up is my california-sis and her little angels' arrival in late June. It's gonna be a par-tay!
I had figured I would cry when we saw each other at the airport, but the reality was that it just felt so natural, so as though we'd never been halfway across the world from each other, that I just fell right back into my routine with everyone. I'm pleased to report that Little Angela still adores me just as much as I adore her, and she's trained Little Angel well. Whereas she calls me "Khalto Noosa", he - in his two-year-old manner of pronunciation, calls me "Katto Nooda" (this is a full-fledged graduation from "Nonno", what he called me last year as a one-year-old before they moved, and equally adorable).
So, spreading the joy and reporting on the beginnings of a fabulous summer of aunthood. More stories to come, I'm sure.
At the airport, my sister's flight arrived shortly after another one from Mexico city, and the cbc was there to cover the Mexico flight given the whole swine flu, thing, so we were hanging back as we waited for her, hoping that my parents wouldn't happen to be watching the news on cbc that night... She told us later that the porter who helped bring her bags out walked really slowly so as not to come in contact with "the mexicans" as he would say it, and kept telling her to keep the kids back. Now, my dear sis makes a point of avoiding the news (too depressing, she'll tell you) and had essentially spent the last two days in transit. When she'd left Dubai, the story was still breaking. By the time she'd arrived, it was everywhere, but she'd missed the whole thing. All she could think was "why is my porter racist? How unfortunate..."
I took Tuesday off work, rented a van, and she and I drove up with the little angels alternately fighting and falling asleep in the backseat. We called my parents when we were about 40 minutes away, and they were confused, then surprised, then thrilled. My mom actually figured we were on some sort of three way conference call when she heard my sister's voice on my phone.
Now, they're here for the next three months. Next up is my california-sis and her little angels' arrival in late June. It's gonna be a par-tay!
I had figured I would cry when we saw each other at the airport, but the reality was that it just felt so natural, so as though we'd never been halfway across the world from each other, that I just fell right back into my routine with everyone. I'm pleased to report that Little Angela still adores me just as much as I adore her, and she's trained Little Angel well. Whereas she calls me "Khalto Noosa", he - in his two-year-old manner of pronunciation, calls me "Katto Nooda" (this is a full-fledged graduation from "Nonno", what he called me last year as a one-year-old before they moved, and equally adorable).
So, spreading the joy and reporting on the beginnings of a fabulous summer of aunthood. More stories to come, I'm sure.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Heartmelting ensues...
One of the perks of having a blog is that I have a forum for going on an on about the most adorable kids in the world (another perk is that since it's my blog, I can be completely biased and call them the most adorable kids in the world with no regard for the complete subjectivity of this statement.) I speak, of course, about my little angels and angels.
The latest heartmelting story comes from Little Angel #4 (if I'm going chronologically - really Little Boy Angel #2 since I call the girls Little Angela's), and in honour of their pending arrival from Dubai, I share this "aaawwww" moment. I apologize to Dubai-sis in advance for inaccuracies in this story. I got it 2nd or 3rd hand from our parents:
Dubai-sis was showing the kids some family pics on the computer, and Little Angel, who's just barely turned 2, and can be sort of understood, tells her, "I miss grandpa. I want to give him a kiss". Dubai-sis says to go ahead and blow grandpa a kiss and Little Angel does.
Next picture, same comment. "I miss uncle X. I want to give him a kiss". And Dubai-sis obliges of course. This goes on for a few more pics before Little Angel looks up at his mom and says something she can't quite make out. She assumes he's just saying he wants to give another kiss and says okay. Suddenly Little Angel is trying to climb up onto the table and the computer feet first. She asks him what he's doing, and Little Angel's response is, "I'm going in."
The latest heartmelting story comes from Little Angel #4 (if I'm going chronologically - really Little Boy Angel #2 since I call the girls Little Angela's), and in honour of their pending arrival from Dubai, I share this "aaawwww" moment. I apologize to Dubai-sis in advance for inaccuracies in this story. I got it 2nd or 3rd hand from our parents:
Dubai-sis was showing the kids some family pics on the computer, and Little Angel, who's just barely turned 2, and can be sort of understood, tells her, "I miss grandpa. I want to give him a kiss". Dubai-sis says to go ahead and blow grandpa a kiss and Little Angel does.
Next picture, same comment. "I miss uncle X. I want to give him a kiss". And Dubai-sis obliges of course. This goes on for a few more pics before Little Angel looks up at his mom and says something she can't quite make out. She assumes he's just saying he wants to give another kiss and says okay. Suddenly Little Angel is trying to climb up onto the table and the computer feet first. She asks him what he's doing, and Little Angel's response is, "I'm going in."
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Oh, to be this smug
For my fellow Canadian readers, check out this 22 minutes spoof of our-almost-definitely-next-prime-minister.
For the rest, you may have heard of Michael Ignatieff. An academic, he lived in the U.S. forever and then swooped back into his home country (that would be Canada) when the possibility of becoming the leader of a major party (that would be the Liberals) became available a couple of years ago. Sadly for Iggy, a different professor - the hapless but sincere Stephane Dion - surprised everyone by winning that Liberal leadership race. Then, happily for Iggy, Dion essentially promoted a policy that would tax carbon emissions in the following elections, and despite Canadian citizens' posturing that they wanted to pay attention to the environment, they certainly didn't want to do it at the expense of money, so the Liberals crashed and burned. End result, Iggy was handed the Liberal leadership on a silver platter following the election. Now, with the governing Conservative party waning in popularity, it's only a matter of time before Iggy brings down parliament and starts the next election cycle, which he will almost definitely win (whew! and you Americans thought your system was frustrating and demotivating).
My brother-in-law, K, showed us this hilarious Ignatieff impersonation from This Hour Has 22 Minutes (basically the closest thing Canada has to the Daily Show). It's frighteningly spot on.
For the rest, you may have heard of Michael Ignatieff. An academic, he lived in the U.S. forever and then swooped back into his home country (that would be Canada) when the possibility of becoming the leader of a major party (that would be the Liberals) became available a couple of years ago. Sadly for Iggy, a different professor - the hapless but sincere Stephane Dion - surprised everyone by winning that Liberal leadership race. Then, happily for Iggy, Dion essentially promoted a policy that would tax carbon emissions in the following elections, and despite Canadian citizens' posturing that they wanted to pay attention to the environment, they certainly didn't want to do it at the expense of money, so the Liberals crashed and burned. End result, Iggy was handed the Liberal leadership on a silver platter following the election. Now, with the governing Conservative party waning in popularity, it's only a matter of time before Iggy brings down parliament and starts the next election cycle, which he will almost definitely win (whew! and you Americans thought your system was frustrating and demotivating).
My brother-in-law, K, showed us this hilarious Ignatieff impersonation from This Hour Has 22 Minutes (basically the closest thing Canada has to the Daily Show). It's frighteningly spot on.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Happy Earth Day
M and I watched An Inconvenient Truth last weekend. Wow. Depressing. Important. Scary. Effective.
In honour of Earth Day, I suggest everyone watches it. And then act on that fear. We had already switched most of our light bulbs to the EFC bulbs, but now we're going to switch the rest. And buy green cleaning products. and wash with cold water. and install low-flow aerators on our faucets. We have no car and we bike/walk a lot, so we feel okay on the transportation front.
I encourage everyone to ask themselves what they can do.
In honour of Earth Day, I suggest everyone watches it. And then act on that fear. We had already switched most of our light bulbs to the EFC bulbs, but now we're going to switch the rest. And buy green cleaning products. and wash with cold water. and install low-flow aerators on our faucets. We have no car and we bike/walk a lot, so we feel okay on the transportation front.
I encourage everyone to ask themselves what they can do.
Monday, April 20, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Zen and the Art of Sitting Still
Okay, so the truth is that this post has nothing to do with Zen, but I can't think of a sentence that includes "the art of" and not start it with "Zen". It's the tail end of flu season here in the wonderful Ontario/Quebec region of Toronto/Ottawa/Montreal. I include all three areas because M and I were in TO for a fabulous long weekend last week hanging out with my awesomely extended family, but towards the end of the weekend, I caught some sort of lovely bug. At first, I couldn't figure out what I had, but as Sunday rolled into Monday (and Tuesday, and Wednesday), I felt like I was running the slightest fever, followed by general icky-ness, sore-throatedness, congestion, headaches, you name it.
Everything was unpleasant enough to make me a general grouch, but not enough to keep me at home sick. By Thursday afternoon, I thought I was back on the upswing, and had high hopes for a long bike ride in Montreal on Friday after work. Not so: Friday, I crashed and burned. My body had had enough. Sleep! it screamed at me. Sit still. and so I did, for basically the whole day. and then M came home from work and made me a cup of peppermint tea and we watched a movie and then I slept more.
I got up this morning at 10 a.m. feeling like a new person. Energy? For reals? and I was so pleased with it. So pleased I felt I needed to load the dishwasher, and pull out the dustbuster, and gather a few other things that were here and there and needed doing. And then M asked me, ever so thoughtfully to please.just.sit.still.
Hmmmm, good point. The man is on to something. See, I'm obsessed with multi-tasking. I can't just ever be watching the hockey game or writing a blog post. I do both at the same time (like, right now... the Habs are down 2-0. Not pleased. Trying to stay on topic). I can't cook one meal at a time. I usually put 3 things on the stove together, or I cook while I'm on the phone. Read and/or write and/or eat on the commuter bus. Same for the OC transpo bus when I'm in Ottawa. Even at work, I rarely have one window open at a time. I like to switch between 3 or 4 tasks so I don't get bored. I find I get more done this way, except....
Except when I'm sick. Then I'm supposed to sit still. Right? Right. It actually took about 3 hours yesterday to settle back down and get into bed. I kept not being able to stay still long enough to go to sleep, even though my body was exhausted and my eyes were drooping. And today, the second the energy was back, it was like I couldn't possibly read a book or watch something.
Productivity is good, but I think I need to settle down and read my body's signals. Relax. I sat still to write this post for the last 30 minutes, so there's improvement there, right?
Oh, and the score is still 2-0.
Everything was unpleasant enough to make me a general grouch, but not enough to keep me at home sick. By Thursday afternoon, I thought I was back on the upswing, and had high hopes for a long bike ride in Montreal on Friday after work. Not so: Friday, I crashed and burned. My body had had enough. Sleep! it screamed at me. Sit still. and so I did, for basically the whole day. and then M came home from work and made me a cup of peppermint tea and we watched a movie and then I slept more.
I got up this morning at 10 a.m. feeling like a new person. Energy? For reals? and I was so pleased with it. So pleased I felt I needed to load the dishwasher, and pull out the dustbuster, and gather a few other things that were here and there and needed doing. And then M asked me, ever so thoughtfully to please.just.sit.still.
Hmmmm, good point. The man is on to something. See, I'm obsessed with multi-tasking. I can't just ever be watching the hockey game or writing a blog post. I do both at the same time (like, right now... the Habs are down 2-0. Not pleased. Trying to stay on topic). I can't cook one meal at a time. I usually put 3 things on the stove together, or I cook while I'm on the phone. Read and/or write and/or eat on the commuter bus. Same for the OC transpo bus when I'm in Ottawa. Even at work, I rarely have one window open at a time. I like to switch between 3 or 4 tasks so I don't get bored. I find I get more done this way, except....
Except when I'm sick. Then I'm supposed to sit still. Right? Right. It actually took about 3 hours yesterday to settle back down and get into bed. I kept not being able to stay still long enough to go to sleep, even though my body was exhausted and my eyes were drooping. And today, the second the energy was back, it was like I couldn't possibly read a book or watch something.
Productivity is good, but I think I need to settle down and read my body's signals. Relax. I sat still to write this post for the last 30 minutes, so there's improvement there, right?
Oh, and the score is still 2-0.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Anywhere but here
I've cited good articles in MacLean's magazine before, and this one is my latest favourite. Paul Wells talks about Stephen Harper's latest penchant for getting the heck out of Canada to avoid those pesky reporters that, you know, cover his government and report back on it. They even ask him questions - gasp!
A couple of months ago, my father-in-law sent us all a link to an interview Harper had done on MSNBC about the Canadian economy. I watched, expecting not much of anything. What I saw really surprised me: here was my prime minister speaking to a tv audience and answering questions as though those watching at home were intelligent adults. Not what he does when he's in Canada, eh? Have you ever noticed that Harper talks to us, his electorate, as though we're two year-olds on the verge of a tantrum and he's the kind, calming father? Looks straight into the camera, offers that fake smile meant to reassure and goes back through a few, repeatable selling points about whatever his latest five-point plan is regardless of the question? Asking about the environment or unemployment? No problem, we've got an answer for you! and that's why our plan to lower the gst will make everything better and the sky will be filled with rainbows and the clouds will rain cupcakes on the streets of Toronto. It's like we're in permanent election mode (and to be fair, with a minority government, we are. But still, I will get more out of your answers if you actually answer the question!)
What started of as pleasant surprise actually turned into frustration. So it's not that he thinks the entire world is composed of idiots, I thought, just us. But seriously, no one under 18 is allowed a vote in this country the last time I checked. I wish he'd remember that the next time he tries to woo us with 5 word phrases on perma-repeat.
A couple of months ago, my father-in-law sent us all a link to an interview Harper had done on MSNBC about the Canadian economy. I watched, expecting not much of anything. What I saw really surprised me: here was my prime minister speaking to a tv audience and answering questions as though those watching at home were intelligent adults. Not what he does when he's in Canada, eh? Have you ever noticed that Harper talks to us, his electorate, as though we're two year-olds on the verge of a tantrum and he's the kind, calming father? Looks straight into the camera, offers that fake smile meant to reassure and goes back through a few, repeatable selling points about whatever his latest five-point plan is regardless of the question? Asking about the environment or unemployment? No problem, we've got an answer for you! and that's why our plan to lower the gst will make everything better and the sky will be filled with rainbows and the clouds will rain cupcakes on the streets of Toronto. It's like we're in permanent election mode (and to be fair, with a minority government, we are. But still, I will get more out of your answers if you actually answer the question!)
What started of as pleasant surprise actually turned into frustration. So it's not that he thinks the entire world is composed of idiots, I thought, just us. But seriously, no one under 18 is allowed a vote in this country the last time I checked. I wish he'd remember that the next time he tries to woo us with 5 word phrases on perma-repeat.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Family Evolution
When I was a child, my family in Canada consisted of my parents and sisters; the closest relatives we had were an uncle in the U.S. that we saw on occasion and his family. We took trips to Egypt to visit extended family every few years, but in reality we made family in Ottawa to compensate. I think back over my childhood - all the way up to university - and lose count of the "aunts" who became my aunts, the girls my age who acted as substitute cousins. These were the people we spent our special occasions with: the people we saw during Eid and Ramadan and grew up around. In some ways, they were more than family, because we had chosen each other; in other ways, they would never really be family, and we each had our distinct, nuclear units because at the end of the day, we only had a certain common history, and no common blood.
I remember my excitement when my mother's youngest brother moved to Ottawa, how absolutely thrilled I was that I could start a story with "my uncle" at school, and really, truly mean "my uncle" and not a friend of the family. I remember how thrilled I was when my baby cousin was born and I had an actual cousin to play with and coo at within driving distance. In some bizarre way, the presence of relatives in the city validated Ottawa as my home. I had family here, close by.
I remember my excitement when my mother's youngest brother moved to Ottawa, how absolutely thrilled I was that I could start a story with "my uncle" at school, and really, truly mean "my uncle" and not a friend of the family. I remember how thrilled I was when my baby cousin was born and I had an actual cousin to play with and coo at within driving distance. In some bizarre way, the presence of relatives in the city validated Ottawa as my home. I had family here, close by.
Over the years, it became normal. My Canadian family grew as more cousins and second cousins made the move. Eid became a celebration at our house where, instead of my parents trying to find a way to surround us with company, we tried to figure out how to seat everyone around the table. My parents' house became the "family house", the house where everyone came together for events and holidays, the equivalent of my grandparents' house with the massive veranda in Alexandria. When my sisters got married, the family grew again in the form of brothers and their families. Until that point, my only experience with brothers was through my male cousins, who played rough with us and pushed us in sports and up trees on our visits to Egypt. Two cousins in particular served as my older brothers, teasing and joking with us through out the years. As they got older, they would come to North America to work in the summers, and then stop by Ottawa to visit for a couple of weeks before they returned for the fall semester.
Eventually, the older one moved to Ottawa; two months ago, the younger one moved to Toronto. Last night, he and his family came to visit at my in-laws' place, where we're visiting in TO for the long weekend. There was something remarkably unremarkable about looking around the living room, seeing M and his family and my "original older brother" and his family there all in one place, a new family extension forming.
When I was little, I could count on one hand my extended family in north america. At one point, I couldn't even do that. I now need both hands and feet to do it, and I love it.
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