All posts in category Non-dog-related-activities

No-mo-Nano

I threw in the towel about a week ago.  It just wasn’t happening this year, for a variety of reasons.  Reasons, not excuses.  I have thoroughly enjoyed every one of the things that have kept me from writing consistently enough to finish Nanowrimo – excuses are things that couldn’t be helped, and you’d rather have avoided.  Like dental appointments, of which I had two.  They were during working hours, though, so they don’t count as either reasons or excuses.

I kind of wish I’d admitted defeat earlier – the ideas weren’t coming to me at all.  I switched stories three times.  But I couldn’t be blogging a lot, because, gee, that would mean I had enough time to write fiction for my word count, and was purposely wasting time blogging.  So I found myself not blogging, not writing, and stressing about it, like it was a real deadline, and not the fun, entertaining thing it ought to have been.

What did I do instead of write 50000 words in the month of November?

I took up running

I have been firmly in the camp of “I Don’t Run” since grade school.  But I wanted a fitness-ey exercise that I could involve Gwynn in, and then I found this downloadable App for my phone.  I also have an exercise buddy whose level of un-fitness is basically identical to my own, so we huff and puff away and don’t feel self-conscious about it.  I’m actually enjoying running.  I truly believed this would never ever happen.  I was more of the opinion that the only thing that would get me to run any distance was something aggressive chasing me – and that the only enjoyment I would get out of it would be the enjoyment of surviving – not of a run well-done.

We’re doing the Couch to 5K (30 minutes! 3 days a week!  9 weeks!) program whose App you can download HERE .  You can also just get a chart from them that says the durations of walks and runs.   The App costs something like $1.20, and I consider it well worthwhile, if you have the option, because it means you don’t have to be checking your watch to figure out when to start/stop, etc.  The walk and run durations are different from each other and different each day, so an egg-timer is do-able, but not ideal.  The trainer (one of three options) tells you when to run and when to stop running, while the program plays music from your playlist on your phone.  Music – definitely helpful.  Dogs frolicking around you – also helpful!  It’s such a gradual increase in workout that, while you’re definitely getting a workout, it doesn’t feel like you’re dying, much.  I really like that it lets you gain strength slowly and steadily, rather than running until you fall down the first day and then taking a week and a half to recover.

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Gwynn Jumped Through Hoops

Gwynn and I are taking a Saturday afternoon Intro to Agility class.  Gwynn is talented!  I am… in need of practice.  We’re both having a great time, regardless of my lack of timing/understanding/skill, and I’m learning a whole lot about body language, and silent communication with Gwynn.  The teamwork we’re building in the class is working outside the classroom as well, and I think that the jogging-with-him thing is both improving and being improved by our agility class.  If anyone’s looking for a thing to do with your dog after the basic obedience training is done, this is a great option – it keeps you practicing training and obedience, and the dogs love it.

I Crossfitted

I don’t think I’ve mentioned it, but I started back into Crossfit this summer, using another fantastic Groupon type deal.  This crossfit place is MUCH closer to my house, and we (my exercise buddy and I) have actually continued past the finish of our 20 classes for 40 dollars deal.  I don’t think I’d recommend crossfit to everyone, because it really depends on what motivates you best to work out.  I really like it because it’s kind of like having a group personal training class that changes every time that you go.  It starts off with a skill or strength exercise, and then you do a timed workout that will leave your legs like jelly, your lungs burning, and your face red.  The person monitoring the gym at that time will yell at you to keep going if you stop midway through the exercise to sit and chug water – that’s not for everyone, but I guarantee, I’d never do this tough a workout alone.  You also see huge signs of improvement in relatively short periods of time.  It is amazing the things that I NEVER thought I’d be able to do that I can now DO!  I can climb a rope.  Scares the crap out of me (fear of falling amplified by knowing that I am the only thing holding me up there), but thrills me to death that I can do it at all.  I’m also very close to being able to do a kipping pull-up without any help.  Help = giant elastic that supports part of your weight while doing the pull-up.  Kipping = kind of a floppy-fish movement that helps jack-knife you up to a chin-above-bar position.  Easier than a straight pull-up, but you’ve got to start somewhere!

I Drank with Dinosaurs!

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The Royal Ontario Museum (ROM) is doing a Friday Night at the Museum event, that I’m hoping will become a regular thing.  The Museum is converted to Museum/bar/club.  It has bars and snack bars (all local and interesting restaurants serving good food) set up throughout the museum, a DJ in the main atrium, bands set up throughout the museum, it’s fantastic.  It’s like going out to a bar, but in a museum, which is so much more fun.  Cupcakes in the Geode Room, lobster rolls in the dinosaur area, random activity centers setup throughout, and themed nights!  They have definitely found a great way to encourage the young adult crowd to come to the ROM, and it makes a great date-night for people of any age.

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I Wrote All Night… ish

I might have abandoned Nano-ship, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t do things with Nano.  Nanowrimo’s GTA region hosts a variety of events, most of which I don’t go to, because weeknights are tough to stay up late on.  I do, however, go to at least part of the all night write-in they host.  Sanctuary is an old church converted into a community center.  It’s a potluck – lots of baked goods, chips and pop to keep your blood sugar high!  Lots of late-night shenanigans!  I don’t stay all night anymore, because the first year, I slept on the couch for 5 hours in the middle of it, which frankly seems to defeat the purpose of staying there all night.  I am not an all-nighter-able person.  I got about 8000 words written in my 4ish hours of actually being there this year, though, which was certainly helpful to my word count.  Plus socializing!

I found some one-of-a-kind things

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i know a few adventure weiners that might appreciate these green doggies!

The One of a Kind show in Toronto is a place to get some interesting and original gifts for people for the holidays.  Also samples.  SO. MANY. SAMPLES.  Food is delicious.

Fajita-Pecan-Princess Night!

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My friends and I are not necessarily wild and gallivanting about town.  This kind of cooking+movie night is more my cup of tea.  We made Fajitas, we made Pecan Pie, we made Whiskey Sours, we watched Brave, and Tangled and Beauty and the Beast.  Our hostess made us all princess hats!  There were sparkles everywhere as we all napped through the second half of Beauty and the Beast, in a full-on sugar coma.

Congrats to everyone who finished Nanowrimo successfully!  I’ll try again next year, but I figure that at least this year I had fun with all the things I was doing instead of writing.

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by lexy3587 on December 2, 2012  •  Permalink
Posted in General Writing, Non-dog-related-activities
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Posted by lexy3587 on December 2, 2012

http://goneforawalk.wordpress.com/2012/12/02/no-mo-nano/

Worky Wednesday

Construction sites always seem to have a particular characteristic.  To me, this one seemed to be a lot of sweeping lines.  And, of course, on the day I was out there… a lot of different weather.  Half the time, it was a beautiful day, the other half made me regret leaving my raincoat at home.

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by lexy3587 on August 15, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by lexy3587 on August 15, 2012

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Luck, Omens and Portents

I went out-of-town for a wedding this weekend.  Standing in the elevator (already running late for the wedding, of course), mentally counting the bing of the elevator as it passed each floor (doesn’t everyone do this?), my thoughts ran something like this:

Hurry up.  Hurry hurry hurry. 

Bing.  Bing.  3.  4.  Bing…

Huh, the bings wouldn’t work to tell a blind person which floor it is, because it only binged 13 times for my floor. 

Oh, never mind, the elevator computer voice is telling me the floor number.  Makes more sense than making people count constantly. 

Hurry, hurry hurry hurry hurry.

Room 1401 – no, not room – a suite!  With a king sized bed I could sleep on any which way, arms overhead, and never touch the edge.  Not only did it have a living room and kitchenette, but the washroom was divided into the toilet-and-shower room, and the mirror-filled sink-room.

I don’t stay in hotels very often, and it’s usually with the whole family packed two to a “queen” (why do they lie so much about sizes?  How is your queen sized bed narrower than my double?), with one on cushions on the floor.  A king sized (actually!) bed, and only one roommate for the night is mind-blowing.

The wedding was… giant.  6’10”, and 6”3, to be specific.  The new Mr. And Mrs. make me look like a small child, standing next to them.  Their wedding colours were orange and blue, which makes me love them all the more.  Congrats to my dear friends, may you live happily ever after, and may your future children not get taller than me until at least the age of 8.

Outside after the wedding and before it rained, a man just happened to be walking his giant blue macaw parrot.  Oddly not the first (or even the second) time in my visits to London in which I have encountered people out and about with their avian buddies.  The only reason I bring it up this time is that this bird matched the wedding party.  I’m sure it’s a sign that the marriage was meant to be, not that there was any doubt.  Or proof that birds of a feather flock together.

Calling it 14 is good luck

like this!

Back in the elevator after the wedding, I realised why there were only 13 bings.  The elevator pad has the Lobby, floor 1, 2, 3… 11, 12, 14.

I have to wonder whether people who have Triskaidekaphobia feel safer on the 13th floor, if it’s called the 14th floor instead?  Does the bad luck really come up to the floor, pause, baffled, and move along?  Perhaps casting a suspicious glare over its shoulder as it goes about its business?  Should I feel luckier that I’m in room 1301 (now that sounds like something out of a Stephen King novel!), disguised as room 1401?  I think they should maybe have added an additional bing in there, just to ensure the bad luck is thoroughly bamboozled.  I’ll leave out the fact that some cultures have a serious hang-up about anything containing the number Four.  Perhaps that bad luck is wilier, and realises that it’s actually the 13th floor.

black cat

“A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere.” – Groucho Marx
… a great quote the photographer of this particular shot included in the description!

Apparently some hotels simply choose to leave the 13th floor numbered as is, and fill it with maintenance facilities instead of guests.  Seems like a bad idea to fill a bad-luck cursed floor with ladders and brooms and heavy machinery.  Maybe a better idea than putting a black cat sanctuary in, I suppose.  I slept like a babe, on my full-bed-sized half of the most comfortable bed ever, in room 1301.

Don’t worry about the black cat crossing your path.  He isn’t black.  I’ve decided he’s ombre. Or perhaps, dusky grey. 

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by lexy3587 on August 2, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by lexy3587 on August 2, 2012

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Pulling Flowers out of Glass

I had the chance to go to another glassblowing workshop (like the one you can read about HERE), and it was equally kickass, made only more awesome by the fact that the entire group of people in the class were people I know, there whether they thought that they wanted to be or not.  I’m controlling like that sometimes.  And I’m telling you, youwantto go try glassblowing, given the opportunity.

If you’re in the GTA and interested, check out Playing With Fire - Minna puts on a variety of workshops, and the two I’ve gone to have left me feeling both more artistically talented than I am, and thoroughly impressed with actual glass-working artists.  And terrified, but the rush of adrenaline at finding myself with moltent glass on a stick in my hands is evenly balanced with the safety in which the classes are conducted.  If you’re not in the GTA… well… that’s what Google is for!

The last ones are mine!  A little bit lumpy, not terribly flower shaped, buuuut… beautiful to me.  Some of the most distinclty flower shaped ones are done by my friends whose first try at glassblowing was flower-making.

 

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by lexy3587 on June 28, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by lexy3587 on June 28, 2012

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Not Gone!

I’ve been away, and will likely continue to only haphazardly post, but I figured I’d mention that, in the words of Granny Weatherwax, “I aten’t dead”.

Can anyone guess what I’ve been doing, based on my photos below?

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by lexy3587 on May 9, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by lexy3587 on May 9, 2012

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Playing with Fire

I recently went to a Glassblowing workshop at Playing with Fire in Toronto.  Glassblowing is terrifying, thrilling, and so much more stressful than a glass artist makes it look.  Given the opportunity, do it. 

Our instructors going through the process for making a paperweight

Our teacher, Minna Koistinen is a member of the Geisterblitz Glass Studio, an internationally renowned partnership of glass professionals, artists, and designers.  She has her own line of glass fine art, sold Canada-wide.  She makes glassblowing look effortless, like the most natural thing in the world is to swing a blowpipe just so to make that small lumpy piece of glass into a thin, elegant vase, all without setting anything on fire.

rolling our first blob of glass into coloured glass. Picking my colours was a huge decision! Please don't mix into each other and form some terrible shade of awful! Luckily, Minna and Andrea were there to give suggestions

Her assistant, Andrea, is apprenticing in the art form.   There are very few trades (or so it seems to me) that still use this as a means of instruction, but most art forms seem to need that time observing and helping out to really learn the techniques.  Especially when it comes to things like glass-blowing, where learning to get a feel for the material is a big part of determining just what it is you will make.

sticking that coloured-glass-coated-molten-glass through the glory hole into the hot furnace. Turning the rod more slowly or quickly will change the patterning of your coloured glass. Not turning the rod will ensure that your gob of glass decorates the bottom of the furnace. No-one did that, thankfully.

Minna walked us through the equipment we would be using, and then ran through each exercise, while maintaining a steady stream of comments and instructions for us.  She and Andrea helped each of us through the exercises, which is good because the minute I got the rod in my hands, the only thing going through my mind was a kind of dull roar of “MAKING GLASS!!!”, mixed with paranoia at potential death by fire.  Step by step instructions were enormously helpful!

you then go to the bench with your piece and use tongs to twist the coloured-glass-ball like taffy, focusing on trying to get all the coloured glass off the rod, and getting some interesting twists and patterns.

When you’re dealing with a material whose temperature starts off at a molten yellow glow above 2000 degrees Celsius, safety is a very important feature.  Even after it is cooled to the point of solidifying, the glass is still hot enough to cause severe burns and nerve damage.  Throughout the entire process, all I kept thinking to myself was Don’t Touch the Glass!

Minna dipped the newly gnarled glass back into the molten glass to coat it, and then we balanced our pieces by rolling the rod and letting the glass sink slowly until the roll felt smooth. Right hand under bum to resist the temptation to touch that half of the rod, or, worse, the glass itself.

I was a little bit concerned that I would do something that would cause shattering of glass, set something on fire, or just plain experience some of that terrifying nerve damage.  I am not exactly graceful.

Another distinct possibility was getting that oh-so embarrassing teacher feedback of “well, isn’t that… special.  I had no idea you could make that particular shade of brown out of such pretty starting colours of glass.”

tapping it off the end of the rod. Next step is to cool it very slowly in an oven, and then grind the jagged pieces where it was broken off the end of the pipe

We each made a clear-glass ornament by letting strings of glass slip off the pipe and swishing the stick around to create a pattern.  Next, we made paperweights (all the pictures show this), with coloured glass inside them.  All the movements that appear to come so naturally to Minna are considerably more difficult than they appear.   Focusing on not burning oneself while also keeping the rod turning to catch the molten glass that wants to slide to the floor, and following instructions – it’s all a bit stressful!  It’s also amazing.  As an art-form, I found glasswork to be a terrifying rush that I have never encountered while doing watercolours.  There’s the time-constraint of rapidly solidifying glass, the paranoia about catching things on fire* and the thrill of making something that will be completely individual to me, even if the next person makes the exact same moves as I do, uses the exact same colours.

All the coloured glass burnt red-orange when it was added to the original molten clear glass.  The art of glass blowing doesn’t end at the point of tapping off – the glass has to cool very slowly and evenly, or you risk it shattering, or, at the very least, cracking into pieces.  Yes, my other fear apart from fire was explosion.  The last I saw of our paperweights that day, they were orange-filled, despite the fact that only one of us actually put red and orange tones of glass into her piece.

A few days later when I went to pick them up… well… judge for yourself!

If you’re in the Toronto area, I highly recommend taking an afternoon to try Playing with Fire and make your own completely unique creations.  If you aren’t, but see something like it offered in your area, try it!

*the number of times I’ve mentioned it, you’d think I regularly accidentally set things on fire.  Not true, but the paranoia remains.  Also, word to the wise, do not put a muffin in the microwave for ten minutes.

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by lexy3587 on April 21, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by lexy3587 on April 21, 2012

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Creature of Habit

They say that dogs are creatures of habit.  They want – need – that solid schedule that they chart on their internal clock.  This is the time to eat.  This is the time we got for walks.  Now.  Seriously, don’t mess with my routine.

There are some that suggest that people start to take after their dogs.

Appearance-wise, I would like to think I’m missing that particular sharing of attributes.  Habits are hard to break, though, which is why this weekend, the question I asked with most regularity was, “Anyone want to go for a walk?”

This weekend we headed out to Ottawa.  Without the dog.

The first time (apart from when he got fixed) that Gwynn was entirely separated from all persons in our family.  He stayed at the house, along with my good friend who has spent enough time at our house that you’d think Gwynn would stop barking at the door when she comes by.

walks without the dog mean... more pictures of random pretty houses... that happen to be in the exact opposite direction from where you were planning on walking. Clearly Gwynn has the sense of direction

It was… weird.  I woke up at the crack of dawn, jackknifed upright with a twinge in my back from the discomfort of having slept on a pull-out-couch mattress, hazily gathering my thoughts before gathering the clothes to meet public decency requirements, and remember.  Right.  Go back to sleep.  Or at least lie down on that godforsaken monstrosity until a more appropriate hour.

Would it be inappropriate to text home a gentle reminder about poop bags?

I held off texting until noon that first full day, barely.  Is everything ok?  Is the dog alive?  Are you alive?  Was he ok being left when you went to that Passover dinner?  Does he miss me?

Apparently paranoia is contagious, because my pet-sitter extraordinaire spent the second half of her dinner festivities anxiously checking the clock, and fretting.  Had Gwynn gone pee in his last trip outside?  What if he had to do his business?  What if he was dead?  What IF?!

a sign I saw in the ByWard market

We went for an early lunch at the Elgin Street Diner.  It was featured on You Gotta Eat Here, a Canadian food tv equivalent to Diners Drive-ins and Dives, so we were very excited to try their poutine.  It was glorious – so were the home-made baked beans (I split the Blue Plate Breakfast with my mum… and we had food leftover).  One thing I strongly recommend you do differently than us if you do go – don’t order a whole poutine for yourself.  My dad barely made it through half of his, and we didn’t eat again until after 8pm, and then it was just appetizers.  So – share your poutine, or accept the fact that when you’re done, it will likely look like you hadn’t started yet.

the ceiling. Seriously, when you're at this museum, remember to take the time to look up, throughout the exhibits.

After that, we went to the Museum of Civilization in Hull.  I can’t even express how much I highly recommend this museum.  We felt a bit like interlopers in the Childrens’ museum (a whole entertaining section of the museum), a surreal and hands-on series of rooms full of excitedly shrieking kids and their parents.  The rest of the exhibits are amazing, informative without being dull, and presented fantastically.  People with Children – your kids would enjoy the entirety of the museum, from the History of Canada exhibit (complete with giant boat, faux-outhouse, and a ‘guess that fur’ exhibit), to the Native American exhibits, complete with full warrior armour, shaman outfit, and replica of a dig site.  People without Children – you will enjoy this museum!

mop? dog? doesn't matter - it's happy to see you!

We arrived on Friday afternoon.  I dragged Doodle on a long pre-dinner walk.  Saturday, I got my fill of walking through a museum, and Sunday, we walked the By Ward market.  I got my fill of puppy there when I met the most delightfully adorable Puli dog and his owner who was kind enough to not be too alarmed when I just about ran her down on the street.  Pulis on google-images are hilarious and adorable.  On the street, they’re adorable, though given time, I’m sure he’d have been more hilarious than simply “I’m a mop”.  I dragged Doodle out for an early morning walk on Monday before we left, and hardly got home after the long drive before my most enthusiastic walking partner and I were headed out.

It was nice to have a bit more freedom to do indoor type things in Ottawa this time around.  Gwynn survived his four days without family, and so did my pet-sitter.  Overall, though, I think I prefer a vacation with the dog.

How do you deal with the change of schedule in vacations without dogs?  Do you embrace it?  Or is it time for a walk?

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by lexy3587 on April 10, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by lexy3587 on April 10, 2012

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Wordless Wednesday – a small piece of happy

The stuffed camel who guards my work computer, my Hungry Hungry Caterpillar mug, and some immensely tasty bamboo shoot green tea.  Maybe I can make it through to friday after all!

What’s your small piece of happy in the midst of chaos and exhaustion?

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by lexy3587 on March 7, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by lexy3587 on March 7, 2012

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Hogswatch 2012

We did Hogswatch without you…  Happy Belated Hogswatch!  It’s taken me a while to get ahold of pictures, and recover from eating enough to actually write about, well, eating.

What is it?  Check HERE.  Or just know that, in my family, it involves food.  LOTS of food.

and funny hats. Yes, it's a duck-shaped tea-cosy. This is our ode to the duckman. Underneath the ode is K, my partner in Hogswatch crime.

There is nothing quite like the feeling of your house shrinking as the number of people in it doubles for a long weekend.

Considering I spent two days cooking and eating nearly non-stop, I actually got a lot of exercise.  By the time we were done cooking on Sunday night, most of the main floor kitchen had been moved to the basement kitchen, one desperately-needed item at a time.  That’s a lot of stair-sprints.

I am not a food blogger.  I just don’t have the patience or memory to not-eat-right-away, make things pretty, or take pictures along the way.  What we produced was not restaurant-pretty, but it was delicious.  Today I’m giving you the rundown of recipes I can link to actual food-bloggers’ sites.  Maybe tomorrow I’ll give you some recipes.

Chicken

We have a slow cooker.  I’m not honestly sure if it’s ever been used.  My parents have a tendency to buy things in a “OH WOW, how did we live without this thing?  We were practically savages!” kind of way, and then they disappear into the bowels of the house, only to reappear years later as a “What. The. Hell?!  Was this a gift?  From someone who doesn’t like us?  Who would buy this?!”

More to the point, we did a little chicken, carrots and potatoes in the slow cooker, using this recipe from the Crockin Girls.

It’s the first time I’ve ‘crocked’ anything, but it turned out fabulously.  SO tasty, tender, juicy and delicious.  The potatoes didn’t cook as well as everything else, so I’d probably skip them next time.  We  used baby potatoes, and chopped heirloom carrots instead of the vegetables they list.  The other change I made is that I slid slices of lemon and lime (and the spice mixture they use) under the skin of the chicken.  It’s pretty easy to do, and is great for flavoring the meat, rather than flavoring the outside of the skin (which no-one in my family eats, especially not after it was steamed into a kind of mushy meh-ness).

I am SO stalking their site for more crock pot recipes.

Figgy Pudding

FIIIIGS. They are not the most attractive of dried fruits, but oh-so-delicious. Nearly 24 hours into Hogswatch at this point, you can probably see the cracks in my mental stability spreading across my face. Duck? What duck?

When I mentioned that I was making this as part of the dessert, my mum’s response was, “What?  That’s a real thing?  I didn’t think it was a thing!”

bucket o' dried fruit and alcohol. Yummmmmmmm

The alcohol in it gives it a kind of bitter-sweet taste, and it is so full of dried fruit that you could almost pretend that it’s healthy.  It’s spongy and moist and full of tart pieces of fruit.  The part where you flame it at the end wasn’t exactly successful for us, but I’ll be trying it again next time.

With that many people eating, someone’s not going to like something.  C tried it and disliked it because of the background taste of alcohol.  Peanut refused on the grounds of it being contaminated with both alcohol (sometime I’ll tell you about the one and only time she came to the liquor store with me) and dried fruit.  I’d classify it as a ‘grown-up dessert’.

We didn’t change the recipe at all, being kind of unsure about what it was meant to be.  it’s from here.

Key Lime Cupcakes

We used this recipe, and it was delicious.  We decorated them in our own special way, with home-made elephant ears and noses for some, and turtle legs for others.  I swear, the elephant and turtle theme makes sense – you should go read a Discworld novel.

Yes, one elephant has three eyes. That's not really part of pratchett. We formed the little green legs and the elephant ears/nose out of dyed white melting chocolate that we poured into shapes on parchment paper.

In addition to all this, we also had roast duck (from a mishmash of food network recipes), roasted potatoes and beets, spinach and feta tarts, veggie casserole, Wassail Punch, mulled wine, home-made chocolate rats and skeletons onna stick (seriously, it makes sense!), a cheese platter, salad, and cold borscht.  Some recipes will follow.

I beg your pardon, did you just ask me about a duck? preposterous

I am DUCKMAN!

 

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by lexy3587 on March 5, 2012  •  Permalink
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Posted by lexy3587 on March 5, 2012

http://goneforawalk.wordpress.com/2012/03/05/hogswatch-2012/

A Big Happy *sob* Birthday!

It’s the big one.  I’m officially old.  Practically ancient and decrepit, I’m only a few short years from being set adrift on my own personal ice floe.  One foot in the grave.  I’m pretty sure I found a gray hair this morning.  I’ll probably go bald, too.  That happens to women, sometimes, you know.  I’m definitely a spinster at this point, and I’m pretty sure I’m going senile.

What?  My birthday?  No, don’t be silly, that’s not for months.  My birthday hearkens the return of flowers.  Also, no, I’m not being over-dramatic here.  You are.  No, you are.  I know you are, but what am I?

Cue the Sad Violin.

It’s my baby sister’s 19th Birthday.  Nineteen.    She’s able to vote.  Well, ok, she could do that last year, But Still!  She’s living on her own in the far-away Ottawaland, having to scavenge for her own food and beverage in the not-quite-arctic-tundra of University Residentia.  She’s stopped thinking that boys are icky, probably.  She attends classes at an institute of higher learning.  She is officially able to purchase alcohol anywhere in Canada.  She’s an adult. 

She looks an awful lot like me. Only taller, more fit, and... well... like a taller, fitter me.

She was born when I was in Senior Kindergarten.  I was a great big sister right from the start.  When my teacher asked me what my new baby sister’s name was, I, already deeply attached to the girl, answered, “Dooor… something… something like door.  But… not.  I don’t know.  Can I play in the lego area?”

I taught her valuable lessons along the way.  Affectionate older-sisterly lessons like,

“Don’t lie down in the middle of the road while I’m riding my bike towards you, because you will be run over.  See, I wasn’t bluffing.”

And … well… off the top of my head, I can’t think of anything else that fits here.  Still.  I was a part of her education.

In return, she taught me valuable lessons like,

“If your demon-spawn baby sister comes up to you, looking completely innocent and cute, and wants to give you a hug, it’s actually in order to bite you on the face.“

And

“If you chop off your bangs, and all the hair along the part in the top of your hair, right down to a buzz-cut… twice … our hairdresser will actually get out the electric razor and start prepping your hair for being an all-over buzz-cut.  And it really seems like he isn’t bluffing.”  That was definitely not the best look for her, even if she avoided getting the full buzz-cut.

I remember reading the Harry Potter books to her… Aloud.  With voices.  We learned together that Hermione wasn’t pronounced how it was spelled.

She actually enjoys going on walks with me.  I don’t even have to bribe her, most of the time.

Even when it's cold out... And even after we realised that the thing Gwynn is so interested in there is a deer-leg. Yech.

When she was really little (in real life, not just in my mind), her teacher asked them to draw someone they cared for.  While all the other kids drew spider-blob-people or block-blob-people representative of their parents, she drew a surprisingly detailed and identifyable picture of her babysitter.  Having finished the front (curly hair and all) before the aloted time was up, she turned the page over, and did the woman’s back, too (typical hands-in-back-pockets-of-her-jeans stance and all).

She makes art.  Artistic art, and always has.  At the age when I was drawing super-creepy-spider-people with no neck and spindly arms and legs protruding at unnatural angles from their bloated torsos, she was drawing relatively proportional not-scary people whose eyes were in the right part of their heads, and the same size as each other.  She’s in art school now, and the piece she gave me for my last birthday will be the basis for all decoration in a room of my future-house.

A woman came to our front door trying to sell something, and my sister politely turned her down.  As the woman was walking away, she told the woman, “Be Safe.”  Like she was sending the woman out into the zombie-apocalypse-wasteland.

yup... it's a zombie-arm for Sadie. We are totally ready for that apocalypse.

She and her friends were once spat upon by a silver mime.

All in all, she’s pretty kickass.

I look at her, and I still see her at 5, 8, 10… maybe 15… sometimes.  But she isn’t – she’s a young woman, and all grown up.  Holy cow, I feel old.

So Happy Birthday, Doodle.  I’m proud of you, and very impressed at how awesome you grew up to be.  Have fun celebrating!

ps, I hope you didn’t get awoken at god-awful-in-the-morning again today!

10 Comments
by lexy3587 on February 3, 2012  •  Permalink
Posted in Non-dog-related-activities
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Posted by lexy3587 on February 3, 2012

http://goneforawalk.wordpress.com/2012/02/03/a-big-happy-sob-birthday/

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