Hello! And welcome! Mostly...

Is your word your bond?

Do you know what I mean?

If you say/promise/pledge to do something, do you do it?

Mostly?

I would guess most folks don't for one reason or another.

Rightly or wrongly.

But if you don't follow through on what you say/promise/pledge to do, does that matter to you that you didn't?

Just thinking out loud and wondering is all.

x

Well truth be told, the whole bloody weekend was ace.

*beams*

I was surrounded by love, laughter, generosity, kindness and open arms.

Can't get much better than that now can it?

So my Mr has joined facebook now.

He is slowly acquiring friends so to speak and is ever so nervous about weirdos wanting to be his friend.

Calm down sezs I.

You can delete the friends if they go whacko and ignore a friend invite if you choose as well.

More power to the facebook user I say!

So the other day, Mr shouts to me, ooooo Ma, do you know an M.R. person?

*thinks*

Oh yes Da, I surely do and they are a dear mate from the U.K. so pur-leassse accept their friend invite so as to not insult them.

*cue insistent pestering from me for the next sixty minutes*

Mr shouts down to me from the second level....Maaaaaaaaa, this person sells real estate in Toronto and is not who you think they are....

hahahahahahaha sezs I.

That is one of the perks of being online now innit? Just delete shouts I and stick with the good ones.

Sounds about right to me.

Have you ever bought something simply because they were/are cute?

*wags fingers*

Keeps it clean! This is a family rated blog!

Well not that I am known to squander money per se *looks over her shoulder for Mr who will start laughing and then crying at THAT* but I did buy these grapes simply because they are tiny and so dang cute.

And realllly now...who can resist eating Munchkyn grapes!?

I could do with some BIG FUN right about now. Hahahahaha...

In other news, September is peeking its head around the corner and I am hoping we get an Indian Summer over here in MalaLand.

*prays to the Weather Gawds*

Senator Ted Kennedy died last week and he left behind a legacy of public service that is difficult if not downright impossible to emulate.

But having said that, if you choose to go become employed as a civil servant then it is your job and obligation to serve the public as best as you humanly can and furthermore, you must speak for those who can`t.

There are so many people who are vulnerable and don`t have a voice or the oomph to make themselves heard so then it is you - the civil servant - who MUST pick up the slack and bloody move heaven and earth to do what needs to be done.

I think that Ted Kennedy surely didn`t have to roar for the underdog but roar he did. And he never stopped till the day he died.

The man had a personal fortune of well over $163 million dollars so the very fact that he fought for those that couldn`t, makes his legacy and political achievements all the more astounding.

Bless.

Me: I have a doctor`s appointment on Saturday and wants you to drive me.

Mr: Wot? Whay can`t you drive yourself?

*cue whiny, pathetic voice by moi*

Me: Pur-leasssssssssssssse! I just don`t want to drive myself and wants to do my own stuff whilst being driven to the doctors and can`t be arsed to drive.

*hears Mr thinking of the consequences of saying `no` as he can`t be arsed to drive me*

Me: Think of it as good practice for when we are reallly old and that`s our daily outing *bats eyes*

Mr: All right Ma.

I have no idea why I can`t be arsed to drive anywhere these days and much prefer to be driven but there it is.

Have a fantastic day, evening or afternoon, whatever it is you may be doing.

x

Eeeeep!

My Nana *God rest her soul* is giving me THAT look from heaven above if you know what I mean. She abhorred the crossing of one`s legs and naturally I used to do that all the time when in her presence.

*uncrosses her legs to cross the other*

I can`t help it reallllly.

Seems to be an involuntary reflex after all these years and goodness, is there a proper way for one to sit without crossing one`s legs?

Especially when wearing a short skirt or is sat at a desk with your belly right up to the bar so to speak?

Andddd, crossing my legs helps me to sit straight up. No really!

*winks*

That`s my story and I am sticking to it.

Ta.

Results posted in a week along with the winning photo.

Enjoy!

Friday night pizza!

Making this for dinner...

..tis a thick crust pizza instead of the usual thin, crunch crust..

...and has some homemade red sauce, green olives, green peppers, sliced spanish onions, shredded asiago, romano, parmagianno-reggiano cheeses sprinkled on top with just the right dose of love.

Wanna slice?

..and of course, there is the standard kir royale for drinkies...

May I pour you a glass?

Remember that power outage over in MalaLand a week ago?

While Mr was wandering about in the dark, I went to grab my Nintendo DS to play video games till bed time.

Aha!

I am a genius!

Sort of.

Well prepared for any State of Emergency here in MalaLand. Not only did I have instant entertainment but I had candles to boot!

I keep a ready supply of candles and matches in the master bathroom as I luffs to have a long, hot, bubbly bath with the lights off and many candles lit all around me.

What is it about candles that I luffs so much?

I admit to being mesmerized by the flickering flame *pyro alert* but they do seem to calm me down.

Neen-ner-neen-ner to Mein Süsser!!!

Oh.

And did you know that fresh figs 'kick in' within a couple hours of scarfation (the act of scarfing food when utterly starving)?

Ew boy.

Lost five pounds there I did.

Wot?

Portion of news article as noted below....

Facebook will make a series of changes to its website operations and privacy policy to better protect its worldwide users from privacy violations, after a series of negotiations with the Office of the Privacy Commissioner of Canada.

....and.....

The Canadian privacy watchdog had told Facebook that one of its biggest concerns was with the amount of personal information it shared with third-party developers who built applications -- like online games and quizzes -- for the popular social networking site.

In response, Facebook said it would retrofit its website with new controls that would limit the personal information that the estimated one million worldwide developers could access.

Another change will see Facebook make it clearer to users that there is a difference between deleting an account and making it inactive.

Also, the company will permanently delete the personal information of Facebook users who have deactivated their accounts.

Take that facebook!

*puffs chest*

Full article here

She has really stepped up to the plate of late. And I thank her for that.

Not that you lot here haven't been beside me during the good, the bad and more importantly, the ugly, but she has known about stuff here off blog and has seen the shenanigans unfold and let those know that certain behaviors are just plain wrong.

Most importantly, she's let me know that I what I find odd, wrong, off-track and frickity whacked is truly odd, wrong, off-track and frickity whacked as well.

I will never forget your kindness, loyalty and support.

Thank you.

Read this article today...

If blasphemy comes too easily to your lips, it might be prudent to just put a sock in it before heading to Ireland this fall.

Under legislation to take effect this October, taking the Lord's name in vain could set you back a cool 25,000 euros (about $39,000).

The law – which has been approved by the Irish parliament and needs only the signature of Justice Minister Dermot Ahern – states that a person commits blasphemy if they publish or utter "matter that is grossly abusive or insulting in relation to matters held sacred by any religion, thereby causing outrage among a substantial number of the adherents of that religion."

Guess you and I are 'effed then aren't we? You will need to move and I will need to visit you in Ireland before October. Not that we use cuss words as such. Ahem.

Pfft!

Full article here.

Is not the kitchen surprisingly.

But it is here *points to the family room* where I find the most peace. Here I am surrounded by fish, birds, kitty kitty and the Trio whilst I am watching the boob tube, blogging or glancing outside as I sit in my comfy recliner.

*ace*

The kitchen is not too far *points to the right and up over her shoulder* and the wine rack about 9, 10 no make that 11 paces from the kitchen.

Then there's a handy dandy downstairs 'loo for the obligatory wee after drinking a vat of Perrier water.

Gotcha! You thought I was gonna say wine didn't ya? hahahaha!

Life is good.

The first honk you do in front of your significant other is always a bit risky because you just never know what their reaction will be.

Me, being me, let one fly whilst Mr was reading the paper in the boudoir yonks ago and he put his paper down a titch, looked at me with utter disgust in his face and requested 'could you do that out of the room please?'

Completely and utterly horrified, I announced to him that I was in touch with my body and if he didn't like it then too bad for that!

You see I couldn't imagine spending my life with someone and not 'keep it real' so to speak so figured I best get the honking business out fo the way.

Skip to present day and Mr is an equal opportunity honker. He recognizes and accepts that women can honk like the best of men and no longer runs away to hide in the closet when I let a few go.

*snrk*

Can I help it if I sound like a diesel truck barreling down the 401 Highway with my brakes on?

hahahahahaha...

C'mon folks, share your bestest honking story!

Pur-lease!

Let's liven up this dreary Wednesday!

Hugs and kisses

*hatches a plan*

Mr and I have a long distance telephone plan where you pay a monthly fee and can make unlimited calls to any land line in Canada or the USA.

Sooooo, after talking with my mates when they were smack dab in the midst of the Hull Bloggity Meet *whimsical* I just knew I needed to speak with them more often.

As luck would have it, there is a long distance plan where you pay a monthly fee and can make unlimited calls to any land line in Canada and the USA but also Mexico, the United Kingdom, Ireland, France, Germany, Sweden...well you get my drift.

*boing*

Now I have some telephone numbers for some of you folks *rummages through her email* and I just may be giving you a dingle one day just to see how you are.

ooooeeerrrr.....you have been warned.

Plonked some dried black turtle beans into a bowl with some water to hydrate them a bit before I cooked them (was fancying some refried beans today) and was aghast to find the water this color after it had been soaking for a bit.

....and the water still remained nasty after several rinses...

WTF?

Let's hope I come out of this one no worse for wear.

*honks*

We drove by the ole house last weekend.

Was a bit odd and stalkerish but as we drove by, I felt utterly detached from the house that I had spent 18 years in.

Odd that.

Seems like the new owner is not as fussed about keeping the grass cut or weeding the multiple gardens (I feels yer pain I do) but it is her home now and can do what she bloody wants with it.

I can't imagine moving back to that place or that time and much prefer to keep the good memories, reflect on the bad (if only to learn from them you see) and roll onto this house where he and I are focusing on the here and the now.

Now that my curiosity has been satisfied, the temptation to swing by the ole place has since been removed.

Whatever shall I obsess about now?

Remember when I had that shit day?

Partly shit cos of real life stuff.

Partly shit cos Miss Molly..

...yes, this darling...

*cue big breath in*

HAD THE TOM TITS INSIDE THE FRICKITY HOUSE!!!!

*has a valium*

..and she began her shat at the top o'these stairs....

...and frickity hit ever bleeding step going down to the bottom and left some plops on the floor.

*bangs head against wall and other hard objects*

I noticed this 15 minutes BEFORE I had to go to work and deffo had to spend the next 30 mopping up that shit if you know what I mean.

I will never be the same.

That is all.

In my mind's eye, Fridays are frickity awesome as that means the weekend is before me and WOOT! I am all over that my friends.

Now Mr thinks that Wednesdays are the bomb as that means that is his final day out there and once that day is over, he will begin his trek back to MalaLand to where life is really happening if you know what I mean.

What's your fav day of the week? And why?

xxxx

I first heard that term whilst reading Julie Powell's book The Julie/Julia Project. She had a blog and called the people who read her blog - bleaders.

bl for blog and eaders for readers = bleaders

That's not a term I would use to describe people who read my blog. I think of them as my friends as most of you are (as I have met a lot of you in real life).

Now I got thinking about what you lot would call the folks who read your blog?

*taps foot*

I'm waiting....

Remember doing this as a kid?

Well, I bloody want to do it right now.

Who's in?

I must remember that people CHOOSE to behave the way they do for the most part so why I am surprised when I discover what they are doing and somehow, somewhere, I try and find blame within me and what I may have done to cause them to do what they have done?

*takes a breath*

That's a bit fucked now isn't it?

And I can reassure you that line of thinking is slowwwly changing and shwoooosh! Before you know it, all the responsibility for THAT behaviour will be yours and yours alone to own.

*lobs the shit back*

That is all.

Is a powerful thing dontcha think?

I mean once you know what is going on and once the shock of that has worn off, you are duly armed with the information you require to make informed, concise decisions.

If you so choose.

Now if you don't, then shame on you when you fall flat.

Is that too harsh?

Point is, I was giving someone the benefit of the doubt when in fact, nothing has changed which is disappointing at best.

I do wish I was important in their eyes.

Ta.

Mr and I have got into the habit of homemade pizza on Friday nights. It seems to have replaced the 'Friday Night Steak'n'Apple Martini' night here in MalaLand.

Now the crust is made from a homemade dough recipe that is frozen and thawed each Friday morn and then come Friday afternoon, the dough is lovingly pulled and pushed into the shape of a thin, pizza pie.

I plonk some sundried tomato pesto on it as the base and then grab whatever is left in the fridge to toss on the pizza. It is then shoved into a 350 degree F oven for 30 minutes and then *ping* Bob's your uncle and dinner is served!

Tradition and routine is the order of the day and I must say that both Mr and I look forward to our Friday night pizza.

Nom!

Have a fabulous day/afternoon/evening whatever you may be doing!

*mwah*

Looking back to when I was in my twenties, I would have to say I was full of arrogance but that personality trait allowed me to push forward when I needed it the most.

I see some around me (more so at work) that are in their early twenties and full of this youthful arrogance which is annoying for two reasons: it reminds me of how I must have appeared to those around (an obnoxious, spliff of a thing) and secondly and perhaps, most annoyingly, I believe and recognize that arrogance removes learning and acceptance of perhaps a better way of doing or being.

But as soon as the annoyance pops into my bones, it is balanced with a knowledge that life will surely kick that out and will be replaced by wisdom, humility and a grace (hopefully) that points a better and easier way.

Or not.

The path of least resistance and all of that jazz.

Ta.

http://www.680news.com/news/headlines/more.jsp?content=20090820_163717_7820
Hugs and kisses!

Power went out 7pmish Thursday evening. Sending mobile post. No power due to crap weather. Such is life. Xxx
Hugs and kisses!

*hopeless at directions*

I have no idea why I can't figure out or remember landmarks to ensure I don't get lost in unfamiliar surroundings but I never could and never will be good at that sort of thing. Can't be good at everything now can I?

Now some folks are ace at figuring out where to go and how to get there and I figure they were born with a top notch GPS built in and when in their company I lean on them to sort me out.

It all goes pear shape when I am left on my own for any length of time and think I know what I am doing when clearly I do not.

I wonder if I can train myself to build my internal GPS so I improve my sense of direction?

*wanders off to Google this*

In response to this, I am liking this tag line for Mr - Mein Süsser - which is My Sweetie and courtesy of my friend, antlady69.

Thank you my friend!

Now where it all goes for a loop is when I pronounce Mein Süsser in my head, I am thinking Mein Schnauzer which is my dog or something.

No disrespect intended to my Mr.

You Mein Süsser you!

hahahahahahahahahaha!

*naughty Mala*

I am spent.

I can confirm that you should NOT tug on a loose end of a steel wool thread as it will slice your finger deep and quick, ooooo about an inch or so around your forefinger.

*doofus*

It is the oddest sensation to feel the steel wire pierce your skin before you realize that it is indeedy your finger that is being cut.

*gags*

Which begs the question....will the cut on my finger heal faster exposed to air or should it be protected by a band-aid?

I think the first and Mr swears by the second.

Thoughts?

Remember Archie & Veronica?

I haven't read a comic book in years probably decades in fact but when I did, I read the 'Archie' series of comics.

I loved the drama between Veronica & Betty, the doofyness of Jug Head, the slickness of Reggie and the down-to-earth style of Archie.

Kinda reminds me of the US tv show Happy Days.

*remembers the good, ole days*

What was your favourite comic book series? Or am I dating myself? Are they still in fashion? What's popular and what's not?

ARGH!

So many questions and so little time....

Ta.

I have no idea why the baby rabbits want to hang around my backyard when clearly there are safer backyards to scamper about in.

*shakes head*

Obviously my Trio will sniff them out and once nudged outta their hiding spot will leap around the yard at warp speed, dashing through the lawn furniture and risking a mahoosive scolding by their Missus (me) who will dash about after them shrieking like the banshee she is.

*waves hands all about*

This wee baby rabbit was fortunate though as I managed to divert the Trio and have the baby scoot through a hole in the fence. I can't seem to shake the sound of its terrifying squeals out of my memory banks though.

*considers a lobotomy*

Stoopid baby rabbit.

The great news about shit days is that tomorrow will always be better.

Mostly.

And.....

....I have always said that when you are at the bottom lying on your back, you are looking up at the sky and the only place to go is up now isn't it?

....if people insist that their behavior, as outrageously horrid and disrespectful it may be, is your fault, well just refuse to accept that malakeas and lob it back to them.

...just when you think things can't get any worse, they can.

...just because things have gotten worse, it doesn't mean the end of the world. It just feels like the end of the world.

...you may feel like a freak but in fact, it is others that are being freakish which can be confirmed by the loving wisdom, logic and support of those who genuinely care.

...know that why yes, today was indeed a shit day but tomorrow will be better.

Mostly.

Ta.

As Mr headed back out West a few weeks ago and as I trudged along through my week with the Trio by my side, I thought that marriage is never 50/50 and whoever the heck thinks it is, is sadly mistaken or on some kinda narcotic that should be sent my way if only to plonk a smile on my face as I do Mr's chores at the end of a long day.

Relationships are never 50/50.

Life doesn't work that way now does it?

There will always be someone doing a bit more than the other as other variables impact the order of the day and that's a fact.

Now if the total energy utilized by the couple equals or hits close to 100% then that is what is key as the relationship is the most important element of the day. Not he. Not she. But the relationship should be foremost front and center.

At the end of that day, I counted my blessings to have Mr when I can.

'Nuff said.

xxx

Twas a killer day with the humidity today.

*mops her brow*

Was over 40 degrees with the frickity humidity so the story goes.

Now I love the sun and you don't have to shovel the rain but 40 degrees is a bit much now isn't it?

*shrugs*

No pleasing me now is there?

What is it about certain numbers that seem magical?

Like when you are 4 months pregnant, 9 months pregnant, baby is 1 month old, 6 months old, 1 year old, 5 years old, 13 years old, 16 years old, 18 years old?

Or...you are newly married for 1 year, then 5, then 10, then 15, then 20.

And how about when you have worked 10 years, 20 years or 30 years?

Why are those numbers soooo important and not say 9, 19 or 29?

Am I making any sense or do I live in a magical number bubble?

Aha!

It is not just me.

Do tell your fascination with numbers. Go on. You know you want to.

xxxxx

Similar to The Julie/Julia Project, The Mala/Mr Project is currently running in full swing in MalaLand for the past 19 years (ooooo another 6 months have passed...go us!).

That would be me as the cook and Mr as the critic.

Harumpph!

The way he tells it is that his role is just as important as mine as Chief Cook, Head Baker and All-Around-Find-Food & Feed-Em-Kinda-Person.

What is his role you ask?

To eat the food, to offer suggestions on how to cook it, season it and improve on it if need be and all accomplished by the comfort of his food trough which is NOT located within screaming range of the bleeding kitchen.

Now Ma, you don't need to know how to cook in order to offer an opinion on the food preparation.

*eye twitches*

He has balls that man o'mine. I'll give him that.

Har.

What do you think of it?

While some baby bumps seem to be painfully big (like the baby is about to burst out and the skin is stretched to the point of splitting...eeep!), some baby bumps are perfectly round and utterly beautiful.

When I was preggers a gazillion years ago, I felt dumpy, fat and ugly when in the final stages of pregnancy. I am short and there is not much space in my middle for the baby to go so it would push itself way out front.

I have seen a beautiful picture of a young mum heavily swollen with her child which is breath taking. The mum-to-be is oozing life and glowing with love for this unborn child.

I dunno really.

The baby inside is a miracle to me as is the creation of life but the drudgery of carting around the bump when you are short and squat is not one of my fondest memories I can tell you.

Thoughts?

Mr's nightly ritual, just before he trucks up the stairs and to bed, is to have some homemade granola sprinkled with fresh blueberries and boy he scarfs that delicioso snack down in seconds.

As he is pinging his spoon into the bowl to scoop up some more, I head up the stairs with Molly and Puddum and we head for bed.

Now our oldest dog - Sam - will wait downstairs with Mr in the hopes of a kernel of food or two and that dog has patience I tells you. He gets his 'hang dog' look on his face with drool running out of his nose (don't ask) and sits.

And waits.

And hopes Mr will take pity on him and give him some food.

Now when Mr was here in MalaLand for a few weeks straight, he got into the habit of getting out two bowls each night after his movie watching of course and plonking a wee bit of cereal and milk in the bowl for Sam as he is the bestest dog in the whole world.

Reality kicked in and Mr headed back out West on Monday. Monday evening went by and the ole pattern rolled around to bed time. Sam sat there and waited for me to take a bowl out, plop some cereal in it with a splash of milk and I was having none of it.

Mr has his quirks and I have mine so I decided that no Mr, therefore no cereal for Sam.

*cue Tuesday evening with Molly and Puddum out for a wee; Sam won't budge as he wants his cereal dammit*

I look at Sam.

*cuteness personified*

I walk over to the cupboard, get the bowl out, plonk some cereal in it with some milk and bend down to give it to the good ole boy.

I is weak I tells ya!

Here's to Sam...

...he's a good, ole boy.

*mwah*

...has a lot to answer for don't you think?

I am not saying that is the root cause of all behaviour but it sure would explain a lot in my mind's eye.

Pfft!

Now I understand that the ole nature versus nurture argument might rear its ugly and indecisive head once again but...well..environment can change but genetics remain the same.

Ho hum.

I heard this question the other day...

'How do you measure your self worth? By what you do or by who you are?'

I would have to say I measure my self-worth by what I do and I am slowly evolving into measuring my self-worth by who I am.

And I think this is because I am definitely a product of my society where your output is measured, held up to scrutiny and then judgement of you and who you are is then declared (mostly in subtle form if you know what I mean).

Your value as a human being is measured by the clothes you wear, the car you drive, the job you have, the money you make, the husband you marry, the children you produce and on it goes.

That is just the way it is.

Rightly or wrongly.

Now, as the years pass and time marches on, I achieve/acquire mostly everything I have set out to, I can now look inward and decide my self-worth as a person.

There are good days for doing this. And I recommend you avoid doing this on the bad days. For the most part though, I believe myself to be good, kind and compassionate and can certainly stand to undergo some fine tuning if you will but hey, that's the spice of life now isn't it?

xxxxxxxxxxx

Luckily for he/she I am not fat any more.

*phew*

I knew something was amok and quickly lifted my foot once I realized that the ground was not that soft and out hopped a toad.

It nestled in the grass and appeared to focus on being still as I couldn't detect whether it was breathing or not.

As I booted back and forth from the house to the curb to plonk the garbage down (ah yes, it be garbage day tomorrow and Mr is away...*snort*), I watched this toad focus on being still and after a bit, when I was heaving on the big ass garbage bin and plopped it a few feet in front of this toad, it lept up into the air and was out of the way.

I am sure there is a moral to this story but can't figure it out.

And how was your day?

...that tag line does not do my husband justice at all.

I need another.

He would not like me to spout his first name here on blog even though I have mentioned his first name in a comment on another post and that's fine. I think.

But to call my husband Mr suggests a stiffness, a formality, a diversion from his true self and so I am asking you to help me come up with another tag/name for my husband.

I have talked about him enough on blog for you to know what he is like but even if I have not, surely there must be another name I can call him?

Suggestions please....

Dunno if I have any.

And that's not to be melancholy or negative.

I think that women often have dreams for others - kids, husbands, friends and such and rarely have dreams for themselves once the kids arrive.

Us womenfolk tend to lose ourselves in those around us.

Fact.

Now, in my opinion, dreams, goals, visions are all the same thing and some folks have them and some do not.

Which is neither here nor there but simply is.

Having thought about it all, I can only wish to live a long, healthy, happy life with Mr by my side which is good enough for me.

Ta.

It is funny that.

If I ask Mr for a kleenex, he delivers just one kleenex as requested. I on the other hand, would give you the box.

That tells you a lot about our personalities, good, bad or indifferent so to speak. Thankfully, Mr is the way he is and thankfully I am the way I am. Together it is good but if we were both like Mr or we were both like me, we would be doomed!

Variety is the spice of life now innit?

Have a fabulous day/afternoon/evening whatever you may be doing.

Hugs and kisses

Over here *points to Ontario, Canada* there is an unwritten rule that if a driver is shown a courtesy by another driver, they do 'the wave' in gratitude. For example, if I let a driver in front of me as we squeeze into one lane down from two, it is expected that the driver does 'the wave' in the mirror to acknowledge the courtesy extended by me.

Conversely, if someone lets me in front of them or allows me to go first at a four way stop, I lift my hand to the front window and do a slight wave (similar to the Queen's - hahahaha) and go on my way.

Now it annoys me to no end when I extend a courtesy to another driver and they don't acknowledge it.

I find it rude and get a bit huffy.

What's that about?

Why do I care?

Should the good deed be enough for me?

Pfft!

Drivers and their rules eh?

Have a great morning/afternoon/evening wherever you are and whatever you may be doing.

xxxx

Read Jen's post the other day about her making some bread and that inspired me to make a couple of loaves for us here in MalaLand.

I have been making bread for decades now and my recipe is a basic one with 'stuff' thrown into the dough depending on what I feel like.

That day I felt like an oatmeal, raisin, cinnamony kinda bread and here it is....

Ta da!

With a lil dab of butter or toasted...yum!

What's your favorite kind of bread - homemade or otherwise?

Which one are you? Both perhaps?

I can do both as gawd knows I luffs to cook/bake/make/prepare foody type things. It is one of the things I am good at.

I am always a bit surprised when someone tells me that they cook or they bake but they are not the other in return. For example, one of my friends remarked that they love to cook but they can't bake.

I smile when they say that and take it in as that is their experience but to be honest, being only one or another confuddles me.

Are they separate art forms? Not so much?

Dunno really.

Maybe one prefers to bake as opposed to cooking and puts more energy and attention into one than the other?

Make sense?

No?

I'll get my coat.

I wore my t-shirt backwards this morning when I was out and about. That's the kinda gal I am.

I have been known to 'forget' to zip up my pants, have splotched foody type stuff down the front of me as I dash out the door to work and have walked out of a bathroom on more than one occasion with toilet paper hanging out the back.

*sighs*

Yes, yes, I should check the state of me before I walk out the door but I don't and have no excuse for it.

Too much going on in my head and not enough focus on the task at hand I guess.

*shrugs*

Just trying to grab Life by its cajones and not paying attention (that's been well established )

Here's a thought for you and for me...

I have found that if you love life, it loves you back.
Arthur Rubinstein

Hugs and kisses.

What makes the world go around?

I used to think it was love but find that sorely lacking where I look. Maybe I am looking for it in all the wrong places. The newspapers, the tv, the internet is chock full of gloom and doom.

Where's the love?

Maybe the English language is the predominant connection people have with one another these days. What I mean by that is we (or at least I do) communicate with others living in far away lands using the English language as I certainly don't speak their native tongue but they sure know English (mostly).

Dunno really.

Time for less serious issues like playing on my DS!

Ta.

EDITED: We need more love in this world and less talk. Fact.

I heard that comment a few days ago on the tv that if you are bored, then you are mostly boring to be around.

Well, then that`s me sorted then!

I was bored with my own self one day last week during holidays. I think I spent too much time inside and not enough outside the house.

Mr would not have noticed as I didn`t aim my boredom at him so he was safe for that day. hahahaha

I did mention to Mr at dinner that evening that I would be going out shopping the `morrow as I was bored *yawns* to no end.

I need social stimulation whether I am directly conversing or not. That`s a fact. And no bloody wonder Mr chats to the neighbours when he is working from home. He is lonely for some company!

Whatever you are doing my friends, I hope it is interesting and you are not being bored or boring.

Ta.

As time passes, I think that my proudest moment changes and becomes another. That is a sign of progression (at least for me).

Sure, I was proud of delivering two babies and watching them grow. And then, I was proud of me for achieving two degrees as a single mum. And don`t forget about how proud I was to marry such a wonderful man.

But...for the most part...I don`t believe I have reached my proudest moment as yet.

I just don`t.

*thinks*

For if I have, then I find that sad and uninspiring if you know what I mean.

I plan to live another fifty odd years (just watch me ) and I hope I have oodles and oodles of proud moments to come.

Let`s hope I am right.

Ta.

How do you learn?

Do you learn by observation? By watching someone else go through the motions? The steps? The how-to's?

Or do you learn by reading the instructions, sorting them out in your head and then doing it on your own?

Seems like my Mr learns by seeing as obviously I wasn't explaining that bit properly.

Fair enough.

I typically leave half the convo in my head and blurt out the other and expect everyone to know what I am talking about!

Sign of intelligence methinks.

Or not.

*cheeky Mala*

I learn by both methods....seeing, reading and then doing.

Sorted.

And you?

Do you think that some tasks are just for women? So to speak? And are there some tasks just for men?

Not trying to be sexist simply trying to understand what's going on these days.

Or are the tasks simply assigned to the one that can do them better than the other? Gender aside, perhaps it is the skill level that finds the person doing the task?

Now when I was a single mom, I had to do everything or it didn't get done as no one was around to help me. So there was no gender or skill level applied to any task. It was simply a matter that there was a task required to be done and I was the one to do it. Or it didn't get done.

Fact.

Skip forward to present day.

Here in MalaLand, I cook/make all the meals as that is something I love to do...feed people. I clean the surface areas, toilets, sinks and other such drudgery and Mr does the vacuuming and washing the floors.

And I will be danged if I will cut the grass or service the cars. That is a man's job or more specifically Mr's jobs. I will do those things with the proverbial gun to my head but only if he is away travelling on business for any length of time.

Like the couple of times he was gone for over 3+ weeks during the summer (years ago) and the grass needed to be cut. It was either buy a goat/cow to chuck in the backyard to keep the grass down or cut it myself.

On one occasion (and believe me there are many!!), it took three phone calls to France in the middle of their night (was early evening here) for me to find out from Mr how to start the 'effing lawn mover.

Apparently, they run on gas and there was not a drop in it. Heaving on it for all of Canada will not make that blasted thing start. Filling it up with gas though will make that baby purr like a kitten.

Seems to me I best stick with cooking.

Ta.

To have someone, just one person believe in you is ever so powerful.

This got me thinking about that very same thing.

Someone believing in you can build mountains and conversely, tear everything down when no one supports you.

I have had moments when I have 'felt' like no one believed in me and that is an awful place to be. It is isolating, depressing, demoralizing and just plain blah!

I am in a great place now and have been for awhile. I know that I have many that believe in me but I can always count on at least one.

My Mr is a God send.

Here he is walking the Trio with our beautiful niece. I love this picture as it captures the ones I love doing what they love.

Bless.

Spent the past week on holidays doing diddly squat here in MalaLand which has been good for me, my soul and Mr.

All good things come to an end though and come Monday, Mr climbs back on a plane and heads out West.

Pfft.

But as I say to Mr, if a couple can say that they miss one another like we do after 18+ plus of togetherness, then they (and we) are fortunate indeed.

No worries mates, he will be back on Thursday afternoon and this is the m.o. for the next year exclusive of holidays and such...not that we are a clinging kinda couple but egads who will take out the garbage on Garbage Days or takes the Trio for their third walk of the day... *points to Mala* sucker I am.

But...Mr has agreed to make the breakfast each morning *oooerr* when he is here..and did I mention I am coming back to the UK in the Spring?

*boing*

Wish I was going sooner though....

*moving on*

I realized that I need to be busy and I will be looking forward *egads!* to going back to work on Monday. Will keep the likes of me out of trouble. Hahahahaha...and that's a challenge I tells ya.

Anyways, have a fantastic Saturday my lovely friends.

Luffs you. xxxx

Blogland can be a scary place for many reasons. And yet, it can be wonderfully amazing as well.

I have found it larger than life when interacting with others here online. However, once I finally met a few folks from Blog thereby attaching a face and a 'real' name to a blog persona, their 'larger than life' stature was reduced to a manageable size and I could relax and enjoy them even more.

Does that make sense?

For the ones I have met (and there are some I have not but still feel this way), I read their stories, posts, comments and it is like interacting with a dear friend almost instantaneously. The only thing missing is the whistle of the kettle to make some tea/coffee, the crunch of a cookie or a muffin that is shared between friends at the kitchen table as they blather on about this and that.

Oh there would be plenty of time for wine and a Mala home-cooked meal so no worries there!

The point is that people can be sussed out and understood quickly by the posts they write and the comments they make, so if it walks like a duck and it talks like a duck, then it probably is a duck if you know what I mean.

Meeting bloggers in the flesh makes it all come together in my mind's eye.

Ta.

We were walking the Trio this morning and lo and behold, there was a dude and his girl walking their infant as well.

Not unusual, you say but dude was shirtless and and letting it all hang out.

Now said dude was buff and yes, he did look good BUT my Mr would NEVER go outside the house without a shirt on. In fact, he never walks around the house unless he is fully dressed. you can't count the distance between the shower stall and the towel when he is fully nekkid!!! hahahahaha

He doesn't move that way.

Mr has standards you see, standards that fit for him and obviously me. He has certain levels of clothes that for different occasions.

Case in point...

...he always wears a suit when on official work business
...he always wears socks with his shoes
...he always wears underwear

...and on it goes.

This is not to say that if you don't do these things you are any less than he. Whatever floats your boat I say.

Ta.

..for the advent of Fall.

There's been no summer and I feel, no, I know I have been cheated.

I saw a colored leaf on a tree a few weeks ago and damn near died.

Yes, that is right.

THE LEAVES ARE CHANGING COLOR AS IT IS FRICKING COOL AT NIGHT!!!

*faints*

cue five minutes passing....

*revives her own self*

I am trying to enjoy today and not wish my life away *think Fall and bloody cold Canadian winters* but I look forward to the hot summer for eight months of the year and it helps me cope with the long, bleeding winter.

*fizzle*

That would be me at the mo.

Sometimes I stop.

Sometimes I don't.

Sometimes, I have gorgeous, beautiful nails.

Sometimes, I don't.

Sometimes, it is related to stress.

Sometimes, it is not.

Sometimes, I can control it.

Sometimes, I don't.

*sighs*

I would wager that more folks on my friends' list bite their nails than don't.

Am I right?

Every now and again, well mostly now as opposed to the again if you know what I mean we laughs a lot we do Mr and I end up in hysterics.

Mostly I say sumfink daft and Mr spits put his drink (could be coffee or wine) and the odd time, chortles on his food and then we are both off to the Laughing Races.

The convo quickly deteriorates into a gut-splitting, knee-slapping, oh-ma-Gawd-stop-making-me-laugh kinda moment that seems to go on for aaaages.

We had one of those moments out in the SUV which was parked in the driveway as we had just come back from the weekly grocery shop.

I said A.

He replied with a patooey spit of his coffee out of his mouth and heading for the windshield.

Then we were gone mental with the laughing bug for the next five minutes. Obviously we both need to calm down and desist in making public spectacles of ourselves.

Ahem.

In other news, it is my opinion that belly laughs are grossly underrated.

That is all.

Molly loves her veg and fruit. Any chance she gets (each and every bleedin' meal) she props herself up on the island and waits for me to toss her some food. This time it is peaches. Enjoy!

I do luffs her so.

Some times, well most times, the weather predicts what ends up in my belly. And today is no exception as my belly is screaming for a roast chicken, buttery green beans, mashed garlicky potatoes, roasted carrots and a tossed salad on the side.

Oh.

And oodles of chicken gravy over the mashed spuds.

*drools*

Dinner's at 7pm with drinkys at 6.

Who's in?

I was more Martha than she was when my kiddies were little.

I thought that being a good mum meant that my children had to eat nothing but fresh food. And if I didn't put oodles of time and effort into making homemade goodies then my parenting skills would be put to the test and I would have all but failed as a mum.

What a load of tosh.

I quickly decided after having spent a hot August summer putting down a bushel of fresh peaches, pears and corn (one of each you see) that my purple, bleeding fingers were not required to peel a gazillion peaches and pears or shuck a bazillion ears of corn, blanch them, cut the niblets off and then freeze those little bastids, just so I could be labelled a good mum.

Don't know what kind of fantasy I was chasing, but a canned fruit or veg is just as nutritious as the preserved kind and it won't reflect on you as a mum one way or another if the kids eat that or this as long as they eat is the main thing.

Sheesh!

If only our kiddies came with manuals when they are born but then again would we look at them?

Ta.

Whilst on holidays and it is warm weather *prays to the Weather Gawds* I live in shorts. Now the shorts I have are made of cotton or some such material that wrinkles in a soft breeze so you can imagine the state of these shorts after a tumble dry.

Pfft!

I am many things but a lover of ironing I am not. Never have been and probably never will be. I hates it. I find it dull and because I don't pay attention to what the 'eff I am doing, I typically burn myself whilst ironing.

*shakes fist*

Now some folks actually enjoy ironing.

Stand up and be counted.

I applaud you.

WOOT!

In fact, I have heard tell of people who iron their underwear *snrk* sorry...I should be open and sensitive to those that partake in such an activity.

In fact, truth be told, Mr irons all his own clothes *winks* as he is a perfectionist in that sense and wants to look good when he walks out the door as opposed to a ragamuffin if he relied on my ironing skills.

One less thing for me to do I say.

Ta.

Have a fantastic day my friends.

No matter which way you slice it, commuting or simply driving anywhere on a major highway is an adventure albeit an exhausting one.

It simply takes longer to go anywhere and you best be prepared for unexpected accidents, road closures, impatient drivers and add an extra half hour onto your drive time at best.

Mr and I went to visit family a few hours away this Saturday past and it being a holiday weekend in MalaLand, every man, woman, child and their dog were trying to escape to cottage land.

Blah.

We eventually got where we wanted to go, had a fabulous lunch and then made the trek back home.

Mr drove there and back and I made a dang, fine effort conquering evil in my DS game 'WarioWare Master of Disguise'. Mr was exhausted when we arrived home and I hopped on the treadmill (as you do).

But his exhaustion took me back to the day when I commuted from here (well the old house address) into the city of Toronto every day. That was over 8 1/2 years ago and for 10 years prior, I drove 140 kilometres a day which took me between 2-3 hours return trip if I was lucky. I used to get up at 4:30am each morning and arrive home between 5:30-6pm.

What a waste of my life that was surrendered in that car.

I mean you do what you need to do to earn a living but easy days are here for me now and I likes it.

Since I changed employers (still doing the same thing), I got hours of my life back for me to spend how ever I wanted.

I get up at 6am, fiddle around which is my choice till 7:45am and then drive 12 minutes to work (with traffic). I come home for lunch and end my day by arriving at home by 4:18pm.

It can't get any better than that.

Ta.

That's my nephew and me.

I'm blowing raspberries on his belly and he is loving it. What a cutey!

Oh to be that happy all of the time! The thing is, my nephew is that happy all of the time. Bless his little, happy self.

Thanks to my SIL (my nephew's mum) for the pic!

WOOHOO!

*skips merrily about*

Have you ever noticed that Sunday afternoons, more so late afternoon to early evening, that there is a sense of doom seeping in?

This would be the egads-there-is-another-work-week-before-me sense of doom.

That feeling changes how I move through the rest of the day as I have one eye on the clock with a firm resolve to hit the sack in plenty of time so I can attempt to feel refreshed on Mondays.

I go to bed about 10pmish, play my DS for about an hour, gets up for a wee and then climb back into bed in the hopes that DreamLand will come knocking on my brain.

Now the Sunday past was different for two reasons: Monday, August 3rd is a Civic Holiday where I live and more importantly, I am on holidays all week!

*boing*

Nothing toooo strenuous planned except maybe to kill some evil flowers in Wario Master of Disguise and to paint my not-so-fluffy arse off in the Wii game de Blob.

YAY!

Have a fantastic Monday my friends!

*mwah*

I get paid every two weeks and consequently, I pay my bills biweekly.

And balancing your cheque book is a bit of a laugh now isn`t it?

Egads, the adding and the subtracting is easy enough but it is the recording bit that sets everything for a loop. I mean am I really expected to remember those `innocent` withdrawals on my way to work and oopsy! I forgot to record that little gem and then wonder why the math is all off?

Oh to give a fig about money..I suppose I should. But I have had too many years with none you see so when I have some, it flies through me like poop through a goose.

That`s no excuse but is more of an explanation.

Thank Gawd Mr is strict and firm about the money he earns for at least we will have something in our old age.

He watches in amazement as the paper flitters through my fingers *joy* and reaches for the nitro to slip under his tongue if I get tooo carried away! Kidding...sort of.

He does have kittens when he assesses my spending habits but can`t say a word for I work and earn a pay just like he.

Money is power and the lack of money means lack of power (at least to me).

I learnt that very thing during my first marriage when I needed to `request` money for personal hygiene items and the bugger would make me beg for the few dollars I needed.

That taught me then and there, that never again would I be financially dependent on another ever again. And for the most part, I am not.

But....Mr showers me in gifts, money or whatever my heart desires as that pleases him so. Don`t get me wrong, he is amazed at how I spend money (that`s a whole other post!) but if I want or need something, all I have to do is ask and before I know it, it is there before me.

No begging required.

Bless.

’I have always believed that what brings us together is stronger than what pulls us apart.’

President Obama

I am all for being optimistic but…there are some things that pull us apart that is stronger than what brings us together.

My eyes have seen evidence of this both professionally and personally and I know it to be true.

Thoughts?

Egads.

I am a honker and seem to be more so as time passes on. But, even I feel a bit oopsy! when I honks for all of Canada at works and have witnesses all about that may not truly appreciate a good honk when they hears it.

Oh woe is me.

Whatever will I be like in 5, 2, 1 years or okay, 1 months time?

Pfft!

I do know I am looking better than I ever have and yet there is a side to me that looks in the mirror and sees imperfection that abhors me.

Why do we become obsessed with the way we look?

I never used to be this way…

Who here looks at themselves, the physical side, only to say ‘I like you. There is not one thing I would change.’

Anyone?