It figures.

What do I want to do?  Move to Mexico and teach.

What is my husband's cousin doing?  Moving to Korea to teach.

(ok, it's not Mexico, but she's doing it.)

Sigh...........

Earth Hour and stuff

To be quite honest, I had never heard about Earth Hour until today when my daughter told me about it.  So at 8pm, we lit a bunch of candles and turned everything off.  Gerald napped on one couch with the greyhound and the shepperd snored away on the floor.   We turned a battery powered radio on and my daughter gave me a makeover, complete with nail polish.  With my schedule the way its been the past 3 or 4 months, it was great to spend some time with her, doing girl things and just hanging out.  Even after the hour was up, we kept everything off.   It was a nice way to spend some time.  Maybe we'll turn everything off everyday!

Not surprisingly,  we haven't done anything else that would be considered remotely noteworthy.  We haven't gone to the beach, or snorkelled in a cenote, shopped at the mercado,  or visited ruins.  

I get up, go to work, come home, run to school, run home, try to tidy up, hope I'm in time to say good night to my daughter, spend a few minutes with my son, before crashing for the night so I can get up at 5am to do it all over again.  This isn't exactly the life I'd envisioned for myself.

This morning, a Saturday, I got up at 5am again, showered, browsed through my favourite blogs for a bit, catching up on what people have been up to.  I got ready and was gone by 7:30 to drive an hour to the town my mother lives in.  I had to see if I could find her a room in one of the two retirement homes so she can receive some respite care for the next month or so.

On January 1st, she plowed her brand new Sportage into a stopped SUV, while driving about 100 km/h.  She has no idea how lucky she was to escape with only she injuries she had - some broken ribs, and an open compound fracture of her right ankle, which was in about 12 pieces.  3 operations later, 2.5 months of this borg-like looking set of external pins and screws holding the entire thing together.  Now she's ready to be sprung from the hospital, but where to put her is the question.  She healthy enough to leave the hospital, but not healthy enough to go back home by herself.

Necesito unas vacaciones!!!!!

Birthdays

Remember when you were little and you'd count down the days with such anticipation as to make your parents wish they could send you off somewhere until the blessed day actually arrived?  Everyday you'd look at the calendar, count the days off, and remind your parent for the 110th time that you really NEEDED to have that bike or barbie doll?

Today, I turn 39 years old.  Ugh.  Instead of counting down with anticipation, there was dread as each day ticked painfully by.  39!!!!  How in the world did that happen?????

In my head, I'm still 20.  I remember turning 30 and it was a difficult day.  My 20's were hard, but I was still young.  A kid!  Then I turned 30 and realized that those carefree days were behind me and I had to at least, start acting like an adult.  

And now.......  I'm 39.  Where oh where has the time gone???  My oldest is graduating from high school this year.  That's depressing.  In the past years I've started thinking about making sure that we have enough money to retire on, university plans for Mike, dealing with 'grown up' issues....  I don't like it one bit!!!

Of course I'm being silly.  I'm healthy (enough), I don't look anywhere near my age.  I still drive my car with the music blaring.  I can still (occasionally) drink some people under the table.  I still like to go boogie my butt off in a dance club.  I can still wear a tight t-shirt and look reasonably sexy.  That's all good, right?

But what bothers me, is that in all reality, my life is half over.  And I'm still working like a dog to make sure that the bills are paid, that we have vehicles in the driveway, that the mortgage is paid.....  sigh....  the list goes on.

Which brings me back to my very first post.  Shouldn't there be more to life that this?  

I look at the pictures of Nancy and Paul's beautiful house in Mazatlan, and I'm so envious of them.  (By the way Nancy and Paul - if you read this, obviously I LOVE your casa!!!!)

I keep thinking to myself, "All in good time" but 39 has crept up on me so fast that I can't help but wonder if tomorrow I'll be turning 50!!!!  

In the mean time, Gerald has decided to take me to dinner to celebrate at Mexicali Rosa's, which is the only mexican restaurant in the city that I know of, and I'm sure their food will be more canadianized (if that's really a word) than mexicanized.  Oh well.  At least it's mexican.  (Sort of)

Gerald and I talked a lot yesterday about Mexico.  The price of airfare is daunting to say the least.  For us northerners, we pay dearly to get to sunny places.  I did discover that Westjet (A Canadian airline) flies directly to Mazatlan from Calgary.  Which means that we'd have to fly to Calgary, Alberta which takes 4-5 hours and then fly from Calgary to Mazatlan.  I'm hoping that they start flying direct from here.  Otherwise, we have to drive into Toronto and catch a flight from there.  (I hate Toronto with a passion)  We could however, drive 24 hours to Orlando in Florida and take a flight from there which would cost us about 300 per person return.  But, that means that we'd have to take extra time off work to facilitate the drive.  Never an easy answer.....

Anyway, it's Easter Monday, and I don't have to work today.  I do, however, have school work I need to get done, so that's what I'm spending my day doing.

Hope everyone had a great Easter!

Home is where the heart is

I recently had a conversation with someone that made me feel really sorry for them.  This person, whom I'll call N, is a family member.

When I saw N a few weeks ago, I decided to mention Mexico.  Her immediate response was, "What?  What about your house?"

Now, you have to understand that the differences in beliefs between this person and myself vary greatly.  For N, the entire world and her whole life has revolved around money.  Every decision, every plan, every step she's taken, has had money at the root.  Not 'making millions' kind of money, but building some sort of stable base.  Having money in the bank.  Having money put away for 'some day'.

When we bought our house, her advice - which she offers up freely and without concern as to the other party's feelings on the subject - was to buy the cheapest house we could find (within reason), thereby costing the least amount of money possible.  You certainly wouldn't want to spend any extra money on anything.  Once you've bought this house, you keep it.  Forever.  You never move, never upgrade to a bigger house, never plan on leaving it.

But, what this translates to in her eyes, is having a home.  Which, I guess, makes sense.  I can understand where she's coming from.  I know she grew up very poorly and struggled to make ends meet.  Now, retired, she has more than enough money put away to ensure her a very comfortable life.  But still, her main concern is keeping it in the bank, where she can "see" it.

So when she said to me "What about your house?", my response was, "It's just a building.  A thing.  It can be replaced.  We never intended on retiring in this house."

She couldn't understand that.  She looked at me for a few seconds, and changed the subject.  By changing the subject, she wouldn't have to deal with something she didn't like.  She wouldn't have to look at another person's opinion, which if different from her own, is inherently wrong and faulty.

My feeling is that a house does not mean a home.  My 'home' is wherever my family is.  Wherever I can hug my kids, feed them dinner, share time with them.  My 'home' is wherever my husband and I happen to hang our hats.  

I feel sorry for N.  I wish she could understand that 'money' and 'having' and 'real estate' don't mean the same thing to me that they mean to her.  I can leave my house and find another, and that new house will be home as long as I have my family.

I know that I can't change the way she is.  I can't make her understand.  I can't open her eyes.  I can't help to see that new experiences are what living should be about.  She'll never understand that I don't want to stagnate in one little pond, when there are so many other little ponds to see.

I wish I could, but I can't.  That makes me sad.

Dog Blog

I had said in an earlier post that I would introduce the furrier members of our family. They are such an important part of my life - I can't imagine being without them.

I always think that life would be so much easier without them - they do tend to complicate things - but then I know I'd be lost without having dogs in my life.

Chorney

Chorney came from a breeder and is my 'bargain basement' dog. When Gerald and I were buying our first house, my son Mike was 6, and I insisted that every little boy should have a dog. My friend who lived out in the country knoew of a breeder up the road and suggested that we go to see her. So, we're wandering around the barn and the bredder was telling me that she didn't have many pups left, but was expecting a litter in a few weeks.

Along comes Chorney. At 10 months, she was all gangly, leggy and awkward. She walked right up to me, laid down, and put her chin on my foot. It was love. The breeder told me that no one wanted her - she was the runt of the litter. I couldn't say no. She offered her to me for half of what she normally charged for one of her pups. I paid her and make plans to pick her up the day we took possession of the house.

The breeder was calling her Shorty and I hated it, but she responded to it. I wanted to find a name for her that sounded similar to Shorty. On the drive home I started listing every word I could think of that rhymed (Morty, Forty etc), and then a light bulb went on! I remembered a police constable from back home in northern Ontario who had been friends with my parents, and his last name was Chorney. Hence, her name is Chorney.

She has been the best dog. Although first impressions would lead you to think that she doesn't have much going on upstairs, she's an amazingly smart dog. Without a day of formal training, she picked up every command we threw at her with ease. I have no idea how many words she recognizes, but the number is probably astounding.

These days, she's lost most of her hearing and responds mostly to things she can feel, like vibrations and thumps. Her back end is terribly arthritic and she's lost a lot of control over it. She's still a happy girl though, who loves to go for (shorter) walks, and plays with her toys. A good day includes breakfast with something yummy thrown in, and then laying out on the back deck in the sun - whether it's summer or winter.

Trap

Trap is a retired greyhound who came to Canada after racing at Melbourne in Florida. He was 2-1/2 when he came home after a very brief racing career. Turns out he wasn't much of a racer. He ran a grand total of 8 races and won - 0. That's my boy! He must have known there was a forever couch out there waiting for him, so why run?

Trap is a BIG boy. He weighs about 85-90 lbs and can walk along our dining room table with his head over the table. This sometimes poses a problem when we have people over for dinner. He's slowly learning manners though, and leaves when told.

Trap isn't what you'd call a fast learner. Stairs are still something he has a lot of problems with. Greyhounds come into homes with no knowledge of 'petdom'. They don't know how to be a pet. I could talk for hours n this subject,so I'll just leave it at that.

Trap is mommy's boy in a very big way. He follows me everywhere, stuck to my leg like velcro.
Sometimes when he really wants something, he'll run along beside me, body-checking me in the direction of what he wants. Maybe he's not so dumb after all!

Greyhounds are like big, huge cats. Don't let anyone tell you that they need a lot of excercise or need to run everyday. There are TONS of misconceptions out there about the breed. Trap is happy to plant his butt on a couch and sleep the day away.

We have also pre-adopted another greyhound, Elliott, who is only 6 months old. He will stay where he is in Iowa until he's about a year old, and then he'll go to schooling. From there, if he's good enough, he'll move to a track where he'll race. When he's done he'll come home to us!

So there you have it. Our dogs are an important part of our lives, no matter how much of a pain they are!

What happened to the Smith's?

I was reading this blog about a family with 3 kids who moved to Merida from Scottsdale for 2 months.  It was a great blog with beautiful photography.  In the last post, they were getting ready to go look at some real estate in Merida, since they were planning on moving there.  This last post was dated October 24, 2006.  

It was the last post, except for a quick update saying they were all well and back in Scottsdale.

What happened????  Did they buy a place?  How did they manage going home?  How did the kids feel about going home to the States??

I was horribly disappointed to find out after searching all over their site to find the next post that there wasn't another one!  It was like watching a really good tv show and then you get those dreaded words across the screen...

To be contined...

I was really interested in this blog because they had 3 kids with them, and it's the only blog I've been able to find written by folks who have their young children with them.  

Now I just feel so......  let down....  :)

If anyone knows whatever became of the Smith Family, I'd sure love to know!

Sore feet

My feet hurt tonight.  I guess that's what you get when you wear high heeled boots all day at work and then wear them to school for another 4 hours.  In the end, you've had a very long day and have sore feet.

It's raining here today.  We've got 5 feet of snow piled up along the driveway, and it's pouring rain.  Let's hope our basement hasn't decided to leak this year.  I'm so DONE with winter.  BRING ON SPRING PLEASE!!!!!  It seems the older I get, the more I dislike winter and everything that goes along with it.  I don't ski, snowboard or partake in any other winter outdoor activity.  I'm a spring, summer, fall kinda girl.  Even fall is pushing the envelope for me.  

I emailed a friend of mine who is a travel agent and asked her to keep an eye open for any seat sales to Mazatlan.  Airfare for 4 of us is going to cost over $3000.00 CAD, so we need a seat sale.  Why oh why is it so expensive????  I know...  don't answer that.  I used to work for Canadian Airlines before they went belly up and were absorbed by the monstrous Air Canada.  Believe it or not, I was a ramp rat.  I loaded and unloaded planes, did the de-icing, marshalled the planes around the tarmac - yes I was the person with the headset and the big glowing orange lights waving them around like a lunatic.  That was me.  The best part about the job was that I worked with over 100 men, and I was single at the time.  It was a great 5 years...  And!  I was in the best physical shape of my life!  Oh, and we flew around for practically nothing.  Yup, airline employees fly for ridiculously low, low prices.  So imagine this short, little thing (I'm only 5 feet tall) slugging your luggage around.  I'm sure that makes you feel great about checking your valuables all packed away nicely in your suitcases.  (Honest.  We were careful.)

I've been listening to my spanish cd's and I'm actually learning!  Well, to be quite frank, I pick up languages very easily.  Math is another story.  But languages and me are friends.  I'm enjoying it too.  It's amazing how similar it is to french.  Verb conjugation is almost identical except the endings are different.  That's one of the reasons learning spanish isn't much of a problem for me.  I'm bilingual (french and english) and spanish and french are really very close. So, voila!  

At this point I'm just rambling, but I'm in a rambling sort of mood today.  And I just remembered that I forgot to pick up the newsletters that I had printed last night.  I write the newsletter for our greyhound adoption group.  I was supposed to pick it up, fold them, stuff them in envelopes and mail them out tomorrow.  Oops...  Sorry greyhound people...  It'll be a day late.