The Power of Three . . .

They say things always happen in threes, so I hope my famille is all done for a little bit . . .

We had two deaths in the family (one expected, one unexpected) and then my brother-in-law was in a car accident last night (but he's OKAY!!).

So, mes enfants, I will be away from my blog for a little bit as I'm off to Cape Breton with my mum for some family time. . . . I'll be back July 5th. No new posts till then . . ..


Love,
Squirrelly Girly

Can you afford $20 bucks a month? Can any of us afford not to?

I watched Anderson Cooper 360 this week because Angelina Jolie was on. She was discussing her refugee work. It was unbelievable. Anderson Cooper was also talking about the things he had seen. Things I can't even type. Horrible acts against humanity.

In a world that goes to war over oil, how can we stand by silent as atrocities are being committed against our fellow human beings? How do the leaders of the world sleep at night knowing these things are going on and that not enough is being done? 6 million people without a home, without a country to protect them. Jenge and I sat in stunned silence the entire time, the only sound being when something so horrible was said or shown that a sort of choked exclamation escaped our lips.

Children kidnapped and brainwashed. Forced to become killing machine soldiers before reaching puberty. Women assaulted so horrendously they will never physically recover, to say nothing of the emotional toll. Families torn apart and people starving. Starving! Look around you! How much waste do we have that they would be grateful one hundred times over to have?

So, if you think you can affaord 15, 20 or 25 dollars a month, sign up to make a donation with the UN High Council for Refugees . If you can't afford to make a donation, tell everyone you know about this, maybe they can afford to donate. And if they can't, tell them to tell everyone they know. Because the worst thing we can do is what we've been doing. Staying silent.

The Big, Fat, Puppy Version of FU (and I don't mean Felix Unger!)

So. Yeah. Portia's been peeing on the carpet again. Is it because she's crying and I don't wake up? I don't know. But Mummy Jennifer has decided it's time for the hammer to fall. "She sleeps in your room, or in her kennel. None of this traipsing around the house all night."

Sniff. Kay. You would never guess I'm the older sister. But I do agree with Jenge. It's just that I'm a softie!!

So I bring Portia upstairs last night and set up the baby gate to keep her from going downstairs. This morning, she cries. I groggily stumble out of bed, stop off at Jenge's room to get Rocky and the three of us head downstairs.

I go to the laundry room to turn off the alarm and when I step back out (all of 2 seconds later) she is peeing on the carpet RIGHT IN FRONT OF ME! STARING ME IN THE EYE! I was so stunned a made sort of a 'glick' sound and then stammered: SHAME! SHAME ON YOU!! SHAME! SHAME!!

Like she cares. She's already sauntered over to the food bowl and is looking at me as if to say 'Why is there no kibble in her yet, bee-atch?'

She didn't even care!! And I was two seconds from opening the door and letting her out!! You telling me she couldn't even wait two seconds!! Glick!!

She totally flipped me off in dog language!! She didn't even CARE!!

Relativity

Yes, Einstein really did have his finger on the pulse of the world. It's all about relativity. Case in point: to my best friend Donna, I am an uber geek. I love Sci-Fi, read math books for fun, and actually have a comic book collection. On Donna's geek-scale, I am a 9.5. The 0.5 being the room needed for spontaneous geek stuff I do that she just does not have the capacity to imagine.

However, being a proud card-carrying member of the geek club, I know that my geekdom is actually pretty low on the geek-o-meter. I've been to Star Trek Conventions, and let me tell you, I'm only about a 5 or a 6 in comparison. I don't have a action figure (aka Doll) collection, I don't have Star Trek posters plastering my room (okay, okay, I used to but not anymore), and I actually get out into the real world and am quite social when needs be (although I would prefer to stay at home and watch re-runs of Stargate).

But I am proud of my geekiness and wear it like a badge of honor. Geeks are the most open minded people I know. They are always willing to let their imagination run free to see where it will go. I would go so far as to say that geeks are the most optimistic, good natured people on the planet. We truly beleive that one day, we will be able to solve the world's problems with science and we will finally be able to put all our differences aside and joing globally, and then universally (like the Star Trek Federation). It won't matter what you look like or how you dress, we will all be the same, striving for a better world. Human curiousity will lead us to unimaginable places and things. Hopefully, it will be the geeks that make first contact. It's the best chance of things going well. Honestly, if you were an alien, who would you rather meet? Enthusiastic, scientific, good-natured people with a love for technology or power hungry, war mongering, suspicious politicians?

Lead on Geeks!! I am but a humble follower of your ways!!

Poor Portia!

My poor puppy! Not only did she not get chosen to be in this year's ARF calendar (for which I submitted FABULOUS pics of her) but rainy days always get her down. She just lies around and sighs dramatically all the time. Plus I really thought we had a good chance for the calander as she is sooooooooo photogenic!! Honestly, how could anyone say no to this face???!!!???

Guilty Pleasures!

It's the stuff you don't tell your best friend about. You couldn't stand to see the look of horror on her face. I came clean to Jenge but I can't take the shame anymore! The only way to purge myself of the shame is to tell everyone about my latest guilty pleasure!


I love to work out to the song 'Boyfriend' by Ashlee Simpson.


Oh the SHAME!! THE SHAME!! But I find it so catchy! And it's the perfect beat for my running pace!

THE SHAME!!

All Shopped Up!
Well, my yearly shopping quota was low but my trip to Great Falls, MT, topped me up for the year. The girls and I had a FABULOUS time!

We left Friday at 4.30 and made it to Great Falls around 9.30ish. After some quick nibbles at the Tony Roma's we donned our suits and headed for some hot tub time. Ahhhhhhh, so relaxing after the drive (during which it rained Cats and Dogs! Kudos to Heidi for driving through it!)

The next morning at 9.30, we fueled up at breakfast and set our game plan: Harley Davidson store (for Donna to pick something up), craft store (for me), Target and then the mall. The craft store was a dissapointment to me since I had a list of stuff I had taken off their website, but the store had less than 10% of their online stock. However, we did pick up some super cute Vintage Vogue patterns (for sewing) which Heidi informed us were so cheap they were practically illegal! (3.00USD compared to 33.00 CAD. Yes, you read that correctly)

Then we hit Target. We found lots of good buys and I did some heavy duty Mastercard damage. After that - the mall. In an unbelievable turn of events, the mall's food court wouldn't have even impressed a defector from 1980's Communist Russia (a subway, an orange julius and the Posh Taco - which was so far below Posh that words fail to describe it). We ate at the Posh Taco and then hit Sears, Herbergers, JC Penny, Bath and Body Works and Victoria's Secret. All in all, we finished at 5.30 and stopped for Starbucks. Yum. Starbucks. I navigate around the world by where the Starbucks' are. Heidi had the best "Discount" total. Regular price 125.00, Heidi paid 13.00. Gotta love a sale!!

We had a world-class dinner at the Beargrass Grille. I had the stuffed pork tenderloin, Donna had the Ahi Tuna, and Heidi had Salmon. All of us had too much wine. At one point, we were laughing so hard we couldn't speak! And then it was off to the Tiki Bar known as The Sip and Dip, where there is a glass pool (like the kind you see at Sea World or the Zoo) where people dress up like mermaids and wave through the glass. We were treated to a mer-man who spent his breaks chatting Donna up. I won at the VLT's and at the end of the evening, we're not quite sure how, our bar tab was only $24.00. And we'd been drinking for hours. SCORE!! We cabbed it back to the hotel, Heidi passed out, Donna and I ate Cheetos and then donned our suits for one more trip to the hot tub. We finally crashed into bed at 3 but were suprisingly not hung-over the next day (Donna and Me - Heidi was hurtin'). We hit the shoe store, the Michael's, the Old Navy and the grocery store and then it was back home to Canada! I missed the puppies terribly, and it made me so happy to see how happy Portia was to see me! GREAT WEEKEND!!

Hostage!

My name is Rocky and for the last two and a half years I have been held hostage. My captors are two biped gigantors and a four legged freak named Portia. The bipeds calle themselves Mummy Jennifer and Mummy Margarita. I am at the mercy of my captors who decide when I eat, how much I get, whether I can go outside or stay in. I am forced to sleep on only the small corner of a queen size bed. Sometimes the freak, Portia, stands guard at the door and won't let me in or out. I'm forced to do stupid tricks with bizarre names such as 'Shake a Paw' or 'Roll Over.' Portia guards the bones and I never get to chew them or play with other toys unless they are hidden from her and only taken out for me in secret. They torture me with a terrible ritual known only as 'Grooming.' I don't know if you will get this message but if you do, send help. Send kibble.

Craft Ho Redux!

Okay, so you already know I am a Craft Ho. I scrapbook, make my own cards, knit. And I'm a type A personality who can't wait to start projects. So where does this leave me?

I'll tell you where this leaves me. It leaves me at 10pm at night trying desperately to find a place in Calgary that has a set of Size 17 inch Double pointed needles!

Honestly, my heart rate is up and so is my blood pressure, because I've already started knitting and I'm at the point where I need to switch to those needles and I. CAN'T. FIND. THEM.

I could go ebay, but that might take weeks! Same with a yarn store I found online! My only option left is to call the other yarn/knitting stores in town tomorrow to see if they carry them.

And if you're thinking, oh, try Michael's! I say to you, get out of the kiddie pool you freak. As if I haven't already. I already had to buy a set of size 15 -25" circular needles and MacGyver them (ie cut them down to 16" and then tape together) cuz they didn't have that either! Craft superstore my a$$!

Now to you, this is not serious. This is prolly quite amusing (and possibly a little frightening given my reaction), but to me, this is hard core, nerve-wracking, heart-palpatating business. I use my crafts to relax, DAMMIT!! AND WITHOUT THEM I CAN'T RELAX!! I HAVE BEAUTIFUL ALPACA YARN BEGGING TO BE KNIT. I HAVE CHOSEN MY COLORS METICULOUSLY. I NEED MY NEEDLES! SOB!

The next person to tell me this is not really a big deal is getting a knitting needle shoved up their nose. And then we'll see how serious this is!

Mini Break!

Mes amis, it is time for a mini-break! For those times when you are too broke and too busy to take a real vacation, a mini-break is what you need to take the edge off. This weekend, the girls and I are headed for Great Falls, MT. The Canadian dollar is rockin' and it's time to go-a-shoppin'!!

I just found out that the Wal-Mart there is open 24-7. Un-freakin'-believable! So you really could dash out at 2 am because you JUST HAD TO HAVE a new pair of shoes.

K-Mart, Target, Wal-Mart, JC Penny, the craft store and Victoria's Secret. I'm about ready to put my mastercard to the test! Who will crack first? Me from exhaustion or it because it's MAXED!

Of course it will all be for naught if we get stopped at the border since Donna doesn't have a passport or birth certificate (Seriously! Damn Quebecois don't issue birth certificates, can you believe that? If I get stopped I'm sending a NASTY letter to the Bloc Quebecois! Of course, it will prolly get lost with all the other NASTY mail they get. . . ) D! It's not your fault!

But since we don't look like trouble, I'm pretty sure we'll be okay. The only trouble we're gonna cause is:
a) spike in the USA GDP
b) girly martini night at the sip and dip
c) hogging the sauna

Whoo hoo! Mini Break! I can hardly wait!!

Sibling Rivalry

Growing up in a family of three girls, we were always fighting over something. I don't know if it's the nature of sisters, or just siblings in general, but there is always something to compete over. I always compared myself to my two sisters. How were my grades in comparison? How was my hair? My stuff (music collection, clothes etc). Someone always wanted what you had, meanwhile, you were wanting what someone else had.

While age changes somethings, there are some feelings that never go away. I still feel like I am always measured best when put up against my sisters. Case in point, Jenge and I are doing a running program right now. We're both pretty out of shape, and we want to be in shape, so running seemed like the best idea. On days when I don't feel like doing the program, as soon as I find out that Jenge has already done her training for the day I'm like, 'Oh it's ON!! I'm gonna go right now! No way she's gonna get fit before me!!' If Jenge stays on plan, I must stay on plan.

Now we are all signed up for Greek lessons together, and I can't help but think, 'Here we go again.' Ann was the first to sign up and as soon as she did, I did. Then Jenge. I've already downloaded Greek Podcasts to brush up on my greek and Jenge is talking about getting herself a Greek-English dictionary so she can referesh her reading skills. Is this a strong desire to finally learn the language? Doubtful since we've had our whole lives to do it and haven't yet. It's got to be the spark of knowing we will all be in class together. Taking tests, filling in worksheets, speaking out loud. And no one wants to be the sister that doesn't get it.

But don't get me wrong, I don't think sisterly rivalry is a bad thing. We push ourselves farther because we know we can do it. Would I keep up with the running program if I didn't have Jenge? Who knows? Would I push myself as hard to learn Greek if I didn't know I'd be going head to head with Ann? Probably not. And who better to compete agains than someone who:
a) comes from the same gene pool?
b) you've known your whole life?
c) will help you if you start to fail?

Because, while we sometimes compete with each other, none of us likes the others to be left behind and will give help when help is needed.

So it can't be a bad thing! Yeah, I think nodding to myself, it's a good thing. But I gotta go, I gotta get Podcast #5 deciphered before the end of the day if I want to compete in the Greek War!

Fess up to your Strange and Bizarre Celebrity Crush!

We've all got 'em. Those celebrity crushes no one but you understands. And I'm not talkin' about your Brad Pitt's or your Angelina Jolie's. I'm talking about the ones that make your friends stare at you with a mixture of confusion and horror. So, come on! Let it out and tell the world. I'll go first. . . .


My Strange Celebrity Crushes - By Squirrelly Girly
1. Peter Jennings - Loved this man. He seemed so smart! So worldly! So gentlemanly!
2. Anderson Cooper - He, too, seems very smart and well spoken. Snazzy dresser.
3. Jeff Probst from Survivor - You may think this one's not weird, but given that I'm almost 5'11'' and I hear that he is short, it's out there for me. I think it's because he always looks so clean and well-pressed next to the slugs that are competing for a million bucks.
4. Rick Springfield - Years after he was in the zone, I will still stop and watch 'Hard to Hold' when it's on TV.
5. Richard Dean Anderson - Same as Rick Springfield. I've got all of MacGyver on order from zip.ca. Stargate SG-1 - Got some eps on DVD. C'mon! It's RICHARD DEAN ANDERSON. You know once, in Grade 4, my best friend at the time, her mum worked for the Calgary Herald and she told us that Richard Dean Anderson was in her building one day! We squealed like only 9 year old girls could! We were stunned! We were like, "DID YOU TALK TO HIM? Omigod! DID YOU??" and she was like, what do you want to hear, that I grabbed him and kissed him? We squealed even louder! It was the best part of evening. I think we saw Crocodile Dundee that night. . .

Don't be shy, mes enfants!! Tell me your strange celebrity crush!!

I'm a WUSS!!

It's true. I can't handle pain. I won't be one of those people that tells you, "Oh I have a VERY high pain tolerance. Seriously."

Nope, not me. Can't stand it. I'm pretty lucky though. I rarely get headaches. The only nagging injury I have is from when I broke my leg when I was 14. It still gives me a little grief, but two months in a cast and six in a leg brace taught me how to 'limp' without looking like I'm limping.

But I've got a toothache! Two weeks ago I had a filling replaced and since then. . . WAAAAAHHHH!

It finally got bad enough that I went back to my dentist. Advil for breakfast and dinner is not a good thing. She filed it down tons but said it might take a while for my jaw to adjust. It hurts! It aches all the way back into my ear and my neck and shoulders are killing me from how stiff my jaw is! I can't really shoulder check when I drive anymore. I'm miserable!

Now as I said, I can't take pain, but tooth pain is the absolute worst! You can't really put heat on it, you can't massage the area. You can't do anything for it! I had to have an emergency root canal a few years back and I still shudder when I think about it.

So what does that picture of Portia have to do with my toothache? Absolutely nothing. But it makes me smile and that makes me feel better!

Tragedy!

It's the worst thing that's ever happened to Jenge and I. We've been inconsolable for hours. We still can't believe it. How could this happen? Why would this happen to us? We're good people (mostly).

Sniff.

Today we say goodbye to the coffee maker.

The coffee maker has dutifully done it's job well for two and a half years, but no one could live up to the kind of pressure we put on it.

Now, it won't even turn on. We stood in front of it for an hour this morning. Turning it on, waiting. Nothing. Turn it off. Turn it on. Wait. Nothing. Turn it off. Once, in a fit of panic I hit the button 30 or so times, but still, silence. No bubble bubble. No hiss hiss. No pop pop. Just the smell of freshly ground coffee that was not going to brew!

I called Paul at Starbucks warranty service (who was quite helpful and nice). Surely there must be something I can do! He's so young! So shiny! So needed!

Nope. After explaining my problem, Paul said I could try to take it to a small appliance repair shop but it would likely cost as much to fix as to buy a new one.

SOB!

But Paul did know how to fix my espresso machine (a ray of hope!). Unfortunately, I will have to call him back once I find a Phillips head screwdriver and a 3/64'' Allen wrench.

So sad! So unecessary! And Jenge and I are trying so hard to save money right now! What will we do? Where will we go?? How will we get up tomorrow morning without the promise of our sweet, glorious brew!

God only knows, mes amis. God only knows!

You've Got Personality, Baby!

So today I took one of those personality tests (click here to take it yourself). I'm always really entertained by these things. Afterward, I did a little research on my personality type. INFJ, that's me. According to this test, I am very rare (some might say 'Odd' but I prefer the term rare!)

Now, I read this profile and thought, omg, that's me! My best friend agreed, but I do wonder how much of it is like horoscopes. You can always find someway it applies to you.

On another website that had well known INFJ's, Ghandi and Jesus were listed.

Wow. I was under the impression that we had no writings of Jesus. I guess he didn't have time to write his life's story, but he took a little time out to take the personality test and hide it in a safe place for future generations.

Honestly! Jesus??!!?? You don't know what he would have answered! Some of these questions wouldn't have even been applicable in those times! (See question #37. - You feel involved while watching TV soaps. Yes or No? I'm pretty sure he was too busy to keep up on Days of our Zion).

But if you're curious and looking for something to kill time, I highly reccommend it!

Lawn Mowing Bandits Strike Again!!

Dad's not 18 anymore. Of course, if you try to tell him that, he'll give you a dismissive 'dad face' and then pretend he can't hear you. While he is partially deaf in both ears, I find it hard to believe he can still hear what Steven Segal is saying on the Spike Weekend movie, yet can't hear Jenge and I when we tell him he shouldn't mow the lawn without us.

Last week, Jenge was over at the 'rents, and Dad said he was gonna mow the next day. Jenge said, nah, don't bother, I'll do it right now. Dad protested, it's too hot right now. I'm going to do it tomorrow morning when it's cool. Jenge replied, why don't I just do it now? I'm here. I'll mow. It'll take me 2 minutes. Dad was adament. Now you may wonder why Jenge just didn't overpower him and mow, but Dad is not someone you openly defy. And we were raised to respect our parents. So, Jenge told him she would be over tomorrow morning and help him. To which she received a non-descript shrug.

We found on the next morning that he waited for her to leave and mowed it himself!! Curses! Sneaky Greek Man! Foiled Again!

But this week, we had a plan. We were not going to take no for an answer! We were over for BBQ last night and he said he was going to mow once he got back from Ann's (our older sister) tomorrow. He is helping Ann's husband build a deck and so we knew he was going to be too tired to mow the lawn.

We called Ann as soon as we got home. Told her to call us when he got there in the morning.

10 am this morning, we call Ann (we hadn't heard from her yet). Dad had landed! He was at her place and getting ready to go to Home Depot with her husband.

We dashed in the car and raced over there. We broke in (okay - we still have keys so we didn't actually break in, we let ourselves in) and we mowed! Front and Back! We did a B & M - Break and Mow. We bagged the grass and then cleaned up. Whole thing took less than 40 minutes (we're young, but not very good at mowing - starting the 'One-Pull-Mower' generally takes about 20 pulls, several kicks and curses and then finally a disgusted snort and then it will start).

We emerge triumphant! Dad has yet to go home and see our sneaky handywork. Ha!

Of course, he'll prolly gripe about the job we did. Once when I was younger he told me a mowed the lawn like a girl. I just stared at him and then said, "This just in - I am a girl!"

But there's nothing he can do about it now!

Lawn Bandits strike again!!

Moderation is the Mark of Maturity

That was the tag line on a bottle of Hot 100 (cinammon schnapps - 100 proof) that I bought many a year ago. We howled with laughter as we read that on the back of the bottle. But, in an effort to be mature, I placed a piece of masking tape an inch from the top of the bottle and annouced to everyone at the party that I was not going to drink farther than the tape!

Two hours later, I've a vague recollecton of stumbling on the beach and falling into the water a bit (we were houseboating) and my 'mark of control' (the masking tape) floated away into the Shuswap. I don't remember much more from that evening, but I am assured by those who were with me that I had a fabulous time.

Last night I had the girls over for girly martini night. Donna and Heidi came over with wine, liquers and food in tow. Now, the last time I had the girls over for drinks (Heidi and Jenn that time) I ended up being the worst party host ever (!) when I proceeded to drink too much and then take a nap on the bathroom floor for 2 hours. Of course, this was after a few drunk phone calls made to other friends (and some wrong numbers - Damn it's hard to dial when you're seeing double). But this time, I vowed, this time I was not going to go overboard! I was not going to have to make apology phone calls the morning after! I was not going to make my guests scrounge around in the pantry for snacks!

I was going to be mature about my drinking! After 12 years of drinking to get drunk, I was going to drink to be social, and then cut myself off!

And you know what, it acutally worked! It's sad when you reach that age when you realize that getting plastered is not the only reason to drink. Remember when you were young and you did the pre-drinking drinking at someone's house before you went to the bar? You had to get drunk before you went out because a) the whole point of drinking was to get absolutely rocked and B) you were not going to be able to get that drunk paying 5 bucks a drink at your local watering hole, so you had to booze it up for two hours prior and get drunk enough that you only needed to maintain the insanity at the bar.

So last night I made sure that there were snacks aplenty (thanks Donna! You're party food rocked!) and I made sure that once I got pleasantly buzzed off a martini and a half (they were STRONG BUT GOOD!) I had a couple glasses of water and some munchies. I waited a while in between drinks, and was a good host (I hope!). I even cleaned up before going to bed.

What a difference this morning was from other mornings I've had. I'm not hungover, I got a good sleep, the kitchen didn't scare me when I walked into it and I didn't have to make a round of apology phone calls while trying to figure out if it was the girls and I who drank all that vodka (Surely not!) or did I knock the bottle over and spill some down the sink? (Oh the lies I tell myself!).

It's sad but true, moderation is the mark of maturity!

It's Greek to Me!

My dad is greek. Moved to Canada in 1965 and the rest, as they say, is history. I know a smattering of greek (where's the bathroom? I want some water. No, I don't have a husband. . . . ) but I've always wanted to learn more. So my sister's and I have signed up for a Greek course at the University of Calgary in Octobr (first available date). I'm pretty excited! I really worry that without the language I will end up losing touch with my dad's family, as most of them speak no English, and those that do speak English only speak a little. Once I learn greek, I'll finally be able to defend myself! What do I mean by that? Well, on my second last trip there, I finally met up with a 'cousin' of mine (in Greece anyone who is remotely related to you, or the offspring of a family friend is your cousin) who spoke English. And I asked him where it was that I had agreed to go with my family the next day. All I knew is someone asked me a question. I heard the word 'go' and the word 'tomorrow' and so I nodded.

Turns out I agreed to pick peaches for the whole day. Luckily my cousin translated for me and I got out of it.

I also get constantly harrassed about when I'm gonna find a husband. Used to be, I was considered an old maid and on the shelf, and had been since I was 20. But Big George (an actual cousin by blood) recently got married to a woman in her mid to late 30's (Big George is around 50ish I think) and suddenly, there was hope for me apparently! I was no longer on the shelf! I could be dusted off and married! No problem according to them. They have shamelessly being trying to set Jenge up with everyone from the local breadmaker's son to the tomato stand guy for eons and everytime I go they ask 'where is your husband?' When I tell them I don't have one the get this look on their face. A cross between 'Unbelievable!' and 'That's so TRAGIC!' I once tried to explain in my broken greek that I had a job, I had a house, I had a car, I didn't need a husband. They said 'What about kids?' I said I had dogs.

Don't even get me started on the reaction to that. These are country people. The fact that my dogs live in the house with me and don't actually 'work' for their keep is just as mind blowing as the fact that I am not desperately in need of a husband.

So, it's off to Greek School. I gotta say, I love to learn languages! I think I might download a 'How to speak German' book tape to my ipod!

Until then, Yasou! (greek for goodbye!) By the way, the picture is the view from my Aunt's house in Greece, where my dad grew up.

Black Thumb


So for two and a half years, I have been planning the landscaping around my house. I have a small garden in the back, begging for foliage. My dad built a fence so the dogs wouldn't get it, but unfortunately he has yet to install the gate.

The first summer Portia ate $200 worth of plants. This winter she finished off the two that survived the first massacre.

But I planted a big, fat rose bush out front and it was quite promising last fall.

I just got back from outside where I was carefully inspecting my rose bush. Dead. Sniff. Dead, dead, dead. No hope for survival I'm afraid.

I love flowers. I've been on vacation to Switzerland, France and Greece and when I go, I take pictures of flowers. Big, swollen blossoms, so feathery and light. Petals like velvet.

But I have a black thumb. Oh, the dissapointment.

But I will sally forth! I will make another trip to the garden store promising myself that this plant will be different! Yes! This one will bloom! Huge, soft blooms that will make me smile whenever I see them!

Dammit! It is going to happen!

Murder! Murder most foul! (well, is there any other kind?)

Okay, so I live with my sister (and no, I didn't murder her! Although sometimes I think we've both had dasterdly thoughts about it!) but the thing is, when you live with your sister, if something scary happens, it's just the two of you to deal with it.

So Portia and Rocky like to have the freedom to roam about so in the summertime we leave the screen door open so they can come and go as they please (this is also because Portia has learned how to open the screen door and will swipe it off it's hinges if she finds it closed). But sometimes, due to our 'open door' policy we get bugs. Big bugs. Starship Trooper sized bugs.

Yesterday we had a bee and a wasp at the same time and they were HUGE!! Size of my hand! (okay, so I'm exaggerating, but they were the size of nickles, honest!) I was FREAKED OUT! But what can I do? Call for Jenge? Nope, she's worse than me. So I had to resort to a trick I learned from my mum. Get the vaccuum and suck the freaks up.

But then I don't want them to fly back out the vaccuum cleaner!! (Shut it! It could TOTALLY happen!) With our old one, this wasn't a problem. Stuff it with a paper towel and in a few days, ditch the bag. But this new vaccuum is bagless!! So I took the cannister out and tied it in a garbage bag, knowing I'd have to empty it at some point but a girl can only take so much!! Hopefully they would die shortly and all would be well.

And then last evening, all evening long, there was the incessant sound of pissed off buzzing from the bag. It was absolutely nerve-wracking. I couldn't think of anything else! Bzzz bzzz bzzz. The sound of a bee and a wasp planning my demise! But hey, I didn't go into their house! Now some my argue that the entire earth is their house, but unless they pay property tax, I disagree.

But now, I am a murderer! Or Murderess as the case may be. I must admit, I do feel kinda guilty. It's must be a horrible way to die. Trapped in a dark dusty bag, surrounded by dog fur. Shudder! I've got guilt! Out damn spot, out! And the kicker is I really need to vaccuum before Heidi shows up for the weekend but I'm too chicken to face the bag and ditch the bodies. I keep thinking I hear the buzzing!

This is exactly why I would make a lousy serial killer!!