Archive for September, 2007

Ahh, I love being on the brink of vacation. 

The hurried packing (because I never do it ahead of time).  The restless sleep the night before.  That anxious “I’m forgetting something” feeling.  Toothbrush?  Check.  Camera?  Check.  Shaving cream?  Check.  Sunglasses?  Check.  Heavy foot so we can make quick work of the 7-hour drive tonight?  Check. 

This time we are headed to Newfoundland with two of Brian’s brothers, David and Jason.  We are renting an RV in Halifax tomorrow, spending a couple of days in Cape Breton, and then heading to Newfoundland.  Cape Breton will be beautiful because the leaves are about half turned… I’ll be sure to get some pics for our southern friends. 

The RV is going to be an interesting experience to say the least.  My parents had a few RVs as I was growing up (“Hey hon, this trailer really isn’t big enough.  We really should trade it in for this one that’s two feet longer, dontchya think?”) but I was young so never really experienced the fun of packing one up, setting it up, cooking in one … much less driving one over the narrow winding roads on a big rock.  Hmm … I wonder how well moose deflect off of RVs? 

We will spend the majority of our time at Gros Morne National Park.  Hiking, kayaking, and, I suspect, freezing our butts off a little.  Speaking of Butts, that is a popular surname in Newfoundland.  My best friend in university is a Butt and proud of it. 

Some of the places I want to visit while in Newfoundland: 

  • Conception Harbour.  (No, mom, I’m not pregnant yet.)
  • Dildo (I’m not joking)
  • Heart’s Desire, not far from Dildo.  I probably should just stop talking and let you <insert joke here>
  • Come by Chance
  • Little Heart’s Ease
  • Tickle Cove … Hee hee hee.
  • Happy Adventure… sign me up! 
  • Deadman’s Bay.  Who is this dead man and why is it HIS bay? 
  • River of Ponds.  Okay, who are they letting name these places anyway?
  • Fortune
  • Hickman’s Harbour
  • Frozen Ocean Lake
  • Witless Bay

Okay, so we’re really not going to be anywhere near these places and I’m just looking for a laugh.  So sue me.   It’s early and I could come up with nothing else. 

Interesting Newfoundland fact:  There are no snakes, skunks, deer, porcupines, or groundhogs on the island.  Phew… I can leave my porcupine repellent home. 

I will likely try to get online at various times during the trip.  Do you think Gros Morne has a free wireless network?  Hmm … if not, maybe in Hickman’s Harbour. 

Pictures and stories will abound upon my return.  Don’t miss me too much. 

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Happiness is …

… a homemade donut from the Somerville bakery.  It’s greasy (especially when still warm) and as big as my fist and about the best thing I can think of to start off a Friday.  Thank you, Terry Gallagher… thank you. 

Homemade donuts always take me back to when I was a kid, in my grandmother’s kitchen, the hot vat of oil sitting on the stove.  I used to love cutting them out of the dough because I, of course, was not allowed to actually put them in the oil.  My Nan Logue still makes donuts but these … dare I? … are the best damn donuts I have ever eaten.  There.  I said it.  I’m sure if I could get my hands on the ingredient list I would find crack or heroine or something laced in there. 

Sure they clog my arteries and put even more fat on my thighs but for those few moments when that donut is melting in my mouth, I am satisfied … and what can be wrong with that.  Everything in moderation, I always say, and that includes donuts.  I don’t buy them by the dozen or eat them every day.  Hell, I don’t even buy them … someone thought of me when buying those donuts and wanted to share so I, for one, will not stomp on their good nature by turning them down!  Anything else would be just plain rude and a spit in the face of generosity!  (Right?  … That’s what I thought.)

To all my exercising, training, and dieting friends… bite me.  Better yet, get off your stairmaster and bite into one of those donuts.  You’ll thank me for it. 

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Kitchen Renos #3

After much wiring and plumbing, the drywall is up on the sink wall.  It’s nice to have a hubby that actually enjoys doing that type of work. 


I spent the majority of last night and will spend all of tonight continuing to scrape the ceilings.  I would leave it to the pros if it didn’t mean being put on a 4.5 month waiting list to get the texture reapplied.  You can see in the picture that the middle panel has been scraped off. 

Alluded to in a previous post, this has been the spot for washing dishes the last couple of weeks. 


Fun times. 

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Family Guy cracks me up …

Last night’s episode (a re-run) … Lois forces Brian to potty train after stepping in his “business” yet again.  After not being able to master it, at the end of the episode he says he’s figured out a solution.  Cut to mayor Adam West pointing on his lawn saying, “Ha!  They said those sausage seeds wouldn’t work and I proved them wrong!”

Brian the dog totally reminds me of my cousin Joe which makes everything he says funnier.  I’m pretty sure he’s toilet trained though.  No offense intended, Joe… it’s his low voice and wit that does it. 

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I was talking with a user yesterday (a computer user, that is … ) and was instructing them to put in a command at a dos prompt …

Me:  “Okay, now type “C”, “colon”, “backsplash” …

He was stressed out enough to not find it funny but I’m still laughing about it. 

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#1 – Floor was tiled and grouted on Thursday and Friday.  We love it. 

#2 – New refrigerator is in and loaded!  That is one seeeexy appliance!  (I believe I started referring to appliances as ‘sexy’ about the same time I looked past Cosmopolitan magazine and started buying Better Homes and Gardens). 

#3 – Brian is almost done with that new wall along the back.  Drywall should be going up today! 

Tiled floor 

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Is nothing sacred?!

Just when you think all is right in the world, they pull crap like this …

Bryan McKnight singing Janis Joplin’s Me and Bobby McGee. 

I heard about 12 seconds of it and that’s only because it took me that long to find the remote.  And yes, my ears bled a little.

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