Miss Canada

I'm watching the Miss Universe Pageant. I usually only watch the first few minutes to see what Miss Canada is wearing. For once she's not dressed at a Mountie or Eskimo. I rather like the outfit since I'm a die hard Leaf's fan. I saw a comment on someone else's blog that after seeing this photo he'd forgotten everything he ever knew about hockey!

Speaking of hockey, I watched the first game of the Stanley Cup. Unfortunately the Ducks won over the Sens. It's a hard game for me to watch because I dislike both teams. It's the choice of the better of two evils. So I'm rooting for the Sens only because I dislike the Ducks worse.

BYKTW Day

I was in the drug store yesterday dropping off an Rx. It had been a most terrible day so I picked up a few things and decided to use the self-serve machine because, quite frankly, I didn't want to hear anyone say "Have a nice day." I swiped everything that I bought, but before I could pay, the machine said I had to show my ID to the cashier that was on the register next to the self-serves. After finally getting her attention she said, "You can't use that machine if you're purchasing alcohol." Her attitude was rather snotty if you ask me. I looked at her and thought, "Don't kill her, just don't kill her. Stay calm and no one will get hurt." What person—a woman who should have seen the signs and known better—would be snotty to a woman wearing a Bring Your Kid to Work Day t-shirt and buying tampons, chocolate and wine coolers? Now doesn't that just scream watch out! Woman on the edge? There wasn't enough alcohol in those (yes, those) wine coolers to wipe out a day taking care of 39 children who don't belong to me. Mine are bad enough (which is why I don't bring any of them to work). One child was obviously in need of serious attitude-adjusting drugs. I told his mom later that I had to have a talk with him and she said "Yeah, I forgot to give him his medicine today." What???!!! How could you forget to give your ADD kid his meds when you know you're taking him into your place of employment for the day? Heck, I would have given him an extra dose! Don't think we won't be talking about her for a long time. BYKTW Day is so not in my job description!

Happy Trails to You

My dork of an ex decided that he was going to hike the PCT after he retired from the Navy. After all the bragging online about his previous stint as a sniper in the Marines (while he was in college no less—funny how they couldn't find his USMC service record when he join the Navy) and world-wide hiking history, he finally started on the hike two days ago. On day one, he ran out of water, steps on a rattlesnake, gets stung by a bee (did I mention his allergy), got attacked by a hummingbird (a really, really big, man-eating bird), and injured his knee falling. On day two he quit. I am so laughing my ass off.

Phantom & the need for new glasses

I was so excited last Friday because I was going to see the Phantom. Well sort of. The first hint should have been that it was playing in Escondido, not San Diego. The second hint should have been that I got tickets the week of the performance. When I read the announcement in the newspaper I didn't notice that it was just Phantom not Phantom of the Opera. Hence, the need for new glasses.

When my sister and I arrived we discovered it wasn't Andrew Lloyd Webber's Phantom, it was by Yetsen & Kopit. You remember those two? According to Wikipedia it is " frequently described as the most successful musical never to have played on Broadway." Well I have to differ in that opinion. It was horrid. There wasn't one memorable song in the whole play (or at least until the intermission because we left after that). It was all filler music. There were quite a few scenes that were comical, was it supposed to be funny? One scene was too funny but it wasn't supposed to be. Christine was in the room with the phantom when Raoul runs to her door shouting, "Christina, let me in," as he bangs on the door. Unfortunately the door does open from his banging, so he had to quickly pull it shut while still shouting "Christina, let me in!" The whole audience roared with laughter.

At least I had a better time last week when I went to see Wicked up in LA with a few friends from work. Now that was a fantastic play & I would definately see it again. We went up and did the whole tourist thing, looked at the stars in the sidewalk, checked out the cement handprints and walked down Rodeo Drive. As many times as I went to LA (or should I say the Valley) I never go to see Hollywood because my ex, pfl (pig-faced larry, with no caps because he doesn't deserve to be a noun), didn't want to drive in from West Covina because: 1) the traffic was terrible 2) the streets are crowded 3) there's too many people (pick the excuse you wish, he used them all). So instead my whole LA experience was going to the mall in West Covina. Yeah.

I still have Webber's Phantom music in my head. I feel cheated.

The Captain & the Kid

There's a song by Jimmy Buffett called Captain & the Kid that always, always, makes me cry. He wrote it for his grandfather & it reminds me of my dad, Captain Fred Durnford. He died when I was 19, before I got to know him as a person. Dad was a captain in the merchant marines, plying the St. Lawrence River and later when I was a teenager (and living with him & my step-mom) he was a captain in the Canadian Coast Guard.

He was always a mystery to me. First, I never met him until I was seven because my parents were separated and I lived in a different country. Plus they didn't get along well—that's an understatement. Also, he was a man of few words so he never talked about himself or his past. Perhaps if I had been a little older, and not such a self-centred teenager, I would have gotten to know him. But it's too late.

I vaguely remember meeting him for the first time. I have snatches of a memory of a party in my step-aunt's basement and me sitting on his lap, but it's a very, very vague memory. The story goes that I met him and sat on his lap all night without moving, I was so enamoured with him. The reason that the story is amazing is that my father's face was badly scared & his right hand consisted of three large stumps. He had been badly burned in the war and he was a bit frightening in small children's eyes. But, supposedly I didn't flinch or even notice. Too bad I don't remember much.

Year's later when I was a teenager I never even thought that his face was "different" it was all I ever knew so when I saw pictures of him before the war he looked strange to me. He wasn't the dad that I knew. It also created problems with new friends that I'd bring over to the house because I'd forget to forewarn them about his face and hand.

It was at his funeral that I started to realize what an amazing person my father was. The whole crew from the two ships my dad worked on were at the funeral in their dress blues (which I think half of them had to borrow). We're talking about 150 guys. And the flowers, they were busting out of the church. There were flowers from ships that he hadn't worked on in 20 years. News had spread up and down the St. Lawrence River in a heartbeat and they all sent flowers or came to the funeral. I stood there and thought, "Wow, he was pretty respected."

I never thought that I looked like my father, or my mother if truth be told. I was on the ferry on the way to Newfoundland & I ran into my aunt and some old family friends that I had never met. We were all going over for my aunt & uncle's 50th anniversary. This man came in and my aunt said, "Guess who this is?" And without skipping a beat he said, "That's Fred's daughter." I was shocked, I do look like him! I was so proud at that moment.

So the reason that The Captain & the Kid makes me cry is because of a comment that my father said to my sister just before he died. Dad was finally going to retire and bought a little boat. He took my sister down to see it; the sister who gets sea sick in a bathtub. He started walking down the pier and was about half way down when he realized that she wasn't behind him because the rocking pier scared her. So he came back, tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, patted it, and said, "You know if Cynde was here she'd be on the boat already." Even though I never mentioned that I loved the sea as much as him, he figured it out.

He's the Captain, I'm the kid.

Miss USA

Yeah I had to watch it but not all the way through. It's sort of like that traffic accident. You know, when you swear you will not be like everyone else and slow down to watch, but as you get closer you just can't help it, and you look. So I looked. I watched the first few minutes to see who was representing my adopted state of California and my home state of Florida. Later I went back to see the evening gown section and oh, my God! Who picked their gowns? Almost every single one of them had on a hoochie-momma, trampy-looking dress! Miss California had on a dress with a neckline that went down to her navel showing off her little saggy boobies—and black is not her colour. Miss Nevada had some frilly number that looked like Mami Eisenhower's bed jacket—except Mami wouldn't of had the front cut up to there! Okay, mental image I didn't need. And what is with the elastic gathering up the crack of the butt? I can't remember who was wearing that but the front was just as bad. I called it the blue bondage number.

Now I'm not going to get into the whole feminist issue as to whether the pageant should be shown at all. But, my own personal opinion is, "Isn't that what feminism is all about, the ability to choose?" I personally wouldn't be caught dead in a pageant but I'm not going to say to another woman that you shouldn't or can't go into a pageant because then wouldn't we be going back to the time when men were telling us that we shouldn't and can't? It's a two way street, you can't have it both ways. Didn't I say that I was not going to get into the whole feminist issue? Ah, but isn't it a woman's prerogative to chance her mind :)

Books I'm reading: I'm in the middle of Running with Scissors by Augusten Burroughs. Man that is one fucked up family! I just finished another Terry Pratchett book. I'm working my way through the series. He is one seriously funny guy. And last but not least, I'm working my way through a biography of George III's daughters. I didn't know that one of them had a child out of wedlock. I thought only the Hanover boys were baddies.

Men in Trees

I really used to like that new show Men in Trees, but lately I've not been able to watch it. Not since the tabloids started talking about Ann Heche leaving her husband for co-star James Tupper. Suddenly their kissing scenes are not acting anymore, they're real, and it's uncomfortable, especially to someone who's been cheated on before. I'm a little hypersensitive over issues like that. But there's a 4-year old involved. Okay, so he's already scared for life with a name like Homer (boy isn't he going to have fun in second grade). But they were joking about it, he said that his wife had bought a $1,000 dress to entice him after he was talking about the kissing scenes with Ann and a month later they're together. She knew. And she was saying a month earlier that her husband was the best Mr. Mom that I know. What about his poor wife who worked hard while he was trying to make a break as a actor and this happens when he finally gets that break. I'd be tempted to break him! He's giving a lot up for someone who has mental problems (remember when she was wondering around town nuts), and can't figure out what sexuality she is (remember Ellen). It's not going to last and both of them will pay dearly for it ala Christy Brinkley. Everyone is saying "Poor Christy, he husband cheated on her." Ummm, duh, isn't that what she did to Billy Joel? Case closed.

Good Parent, Bad Spouse

I was watching the View and they were having an argument about spouses having an affair. It all started with the Rosie/Donald arguement where she said how come he gets to be the moral code for Miss USA when he cheated on his spouse and has been married 3 times. Then Barbara said something about a "little affair." The blonde (can't think of her name) got upset over the word "little," an affair is an affair. Obviously Barbara has never been cheated on because it's never "little." Anyway, the blonde said that if you are a bad spouse then you are also a bad parent. Now Rosie disagreed on that one, even though she said Donald Trump was not a good moral code. She was saying there was a difference between the two. You can be a bad spouse but a good parent. I disagree. If you are having an affair, even if it's a brief one, then you are not being a good parent. First of all, you are cheating on that kids mother or father. If the child finds out (and trust me they will find out one day) what does that tell them? That it's okay to treat their other parent that way? That it's okay to cheat? Isn't that was Joseph Kennedy taught his kids? We teach our children by example, so what type of example are you teaching them? Bottom line, they're watching you and emulating you.

Aunt Lottie

One of my most favourite people in the world passed away this week in Port aux Basque, Newfoundland–my Aunt Lottie. We were lucky enough to visit Uncle Eric & Aunt Lottie last June for their 60th anniversary. Even after 60 years of marriage you never saw two people that were more in love with each other than those two. Aunt Lottie was an important part of my life. When I was going through my divorce she—all 5ft nothing of her—told me that she wanted to go down to Virginia and "punch Larry in the nose!" She probably would have done it too. Our trip in June was the first time that my husband met that side of my family. He fell such in love with Aunt Lottie and she with him. It was so bad that when I called home, the first thing she would say is, "how's my Bruce?" He started calling himself Aunt Lottie's Bruce. She just thought that he was something else because he did the dishes and helped around the house. Men didn't do that in her day, not that they would have been allowed to around her. This is the tribute that I wrote for her funeral:

How do you describe Lottie Durnford? I think saying that she was a small ball of a woman in constant motion pretty well sums it up. I don’t think I ever saw Lottie, in her younger years before age caught up with her, ever walk at a sedate pace. She was always bustling in and out of rooms, mainly the kitchen—Lottie was always in the kitchen.

I can’t think of Lottie without thinking of food and tea. Whenever you went to their house food would just miraculously appear on the table the minute you sat down, and I mean lots of food! I was the only child of my father’s born off the Rock, so I hadn’t grow up with traditional Newfoundland food. Aunt Lottie changed all that. She introduced me to the wonders of pork buns! The minute she heard that I had never had one she was scandalized and started baking, and baking and baking. I had pork buns every blessed morning during my first visit to Newfoundland. Oh, and you also drank a lot of tea when you were around Lottie—even if you didn’t like tea. Food and tea; that was her way of showing love.

Lottie had a great big heart. She loved her family dearly, her son Merrill, her daughter-in-law Ida, and most especially her precious granddaughter Linda. Linda was the apple of her eye. But the greatest love of her life was for her husband Eric. She loved that man dearly and gladly cared of him for 60 years of a beautiful marriage. Those of us lucky to be present at their recent 60th anniversary saw that love shining through. For 60 years she loved the same man, passionately and dearly.

I am glad that I had Lottie Durnford in my life. I wish that everyone had a Lottie Durnford in their lives because if they did, the world would be a better place. They would have known unconditional love and unconditional dedication to family and God. For Lottie showed that every day to everyone and we’re all better for it.

Paradise

Today I went to the beach to take some photos. There was a tall ship in town and I wanted to get some photos of her while she was going out to sea. While we were sitting there on the breakers I was just amazed about how beautiful my adopted home is. Here it was the middle of January and we were sitting out on a breaker watching the sailboats go by. Can't do that up north this time of year. San Diego county has got to be one of the most beautiful areas in the states. It's much nicer than L.A., the people there are too plastic in my mind. San Diegians are warmer, friendlier and small-townish compared to our neighbours to the north. I think San Diego is the closest you can get to a Canadian city in the states. The people are polite and friendly, just like back home - without the cold weather.

Seems like it was just yesterday.

Last night we went out for dinner at Old Country Buffet for Bryant's 17th birthday. On the way home I was listening to the boys talk in the back seat and was thinking about how many times we had gone there in the past and the night ended with me fussing at the boys, mainly Blake, for making rude noises. It seems with boys that you can't go from point A to point B in the car without someone doing something that involved bodily functions. Blake was usually the culprit in our house. About half way home he'd start giggling in the back and the rest of the boys are gagging and rolling down the window. He try to be serious and say, "I couldn't hold it in, " but his sincerity was very lame since he could hardly say it without giggling. It dawned on me last night that it just seemed like yesterday and now he's out on his own in the Marines. They sure grow up fast.