My First Boyfriend..

I received some very sad news yesterday.. a childhood friend had died.

Let me preface this by saying that there appears to have been many deaths in the last year.. but, after all, death is a part of life.  I’m at that age. *sigh* Forty freakin’ five after all.

But.. not intending this to be a sad post.

Stevie Gillie (as I knew him most of my life..) lived a court over. I lived in a court that had a little pathway between the next court.. he lived on the street at the end. On Robroy Ave.

Due to the close proximity (it was the 60’s.. yes I’m old.. and I was a wanderer as a child.) Somehow we became friends before kindergarten.  He was five days younger than me.

Stevie, Brian Larson and I hung out.. played .. and had fun. Stevie had a tree house. In that tree house were Playboy magazines which he stole from his Dad.. comic books…among other things.. Like, licorice. We’d ride our bikes up to Gold Door, the local variety store and I would spend all the money I had on string licorice, pop rocks, fun dip, mojos and the like and we’d take it back to the treehouse, read comics and pig out.

Memories of Stevie Gillie… holy. He was my first “boyfriend”.. we were five. He gave me a ring from a gum machine and told me he wanted to marry me. Mind you, previous to this he had wanted to marry Julie Deumo .. a “girly girl” (no offence Julie..) but she had long hair, wore dresses and didn’t like to get dirty.  I play dinky cars, had a bowl cut and could beat the crap out of any boy in the neighbourhood. Sorry. I’m still proud of that.  And, given the right motivation.. I still could.

His mom told him that I was a “better catch” than the “pretty” girls because I was fun and had a good personality (hopefully that doesn’t mean she thought I was ugly. LOL). I always remember him telling me that.

For my sixth birthday .. he gave me a tambourine. I have a picture of me with it.. but it’s in a storage unit in Cambridge.. I’m in a red velvet dress with a lace collar that my mom made… paper crown on my head, holding up my tambourine as if I’m a gypsy and Stevie is watching me…

I remember hanging in his basement listening to Frank Zappa and Cheech and Chong (he had an older sister.. yes.. totally inappropriate for younguns).. “DAVE’S NOT HERE!”… we were young and we still kinda got it.

He had hamsters. They creeped me out at the time..

One time he and Brian and I dared each other to streak (thank you Ray Stevens..)  We hid in the bushes in his front yard.. took off our bathing suits..  and would take turns running through the yard (it was not a big yard.) Yeah.   We got caught. And all got grounded.

Stevie and Brian and I would play “Flintstones”.. we had these crazy pillars at the each end of the path between the courts.. a couple were falling apart. So we’d bang rocks together and we’d fight over who got to be Fred (did I tell you I was a Tomboy?)

Stevie, Brian and I got in a lot of trouble together.. but it was fun. I vividly remember playing “dinky cars” (most people call them hotwheels now, but I’m old) at Bryan’s house.. in sand…

Another time, Brian was getting beat up by a neighbourhood boy.. Walter (who apparently later went to jail, so he likely deserved this..) on Stevie’s front lawn. I jumped on Walters back and pulled out hunks of his hair till he got off Brian.. then I RAN home.. Walter never retaliated thankfully.. he was a lot bigger than me.

When we were older, we’d play crazy hide and seek games that spanned several blocks… good times.

Grade 3. I skipped.. so. Dynamics change. You hang out with different people. Stevie and I were still friends.. but we didn’t hang out as anymore.

One time Brian’s family was having a party and we hung out in the court and drank Coke with aspirin because older kids told us it would make you high.. yeah, not so much.

Long story short (that is a warning that it may not get shorter..)  we didn’t see each other much in high school.  We’d say hi and all but.. we hung out with different people.

After a while, we lost touch.  Only reconnected about 6 months ago on Facebook.  We used the chat feature to catch up with one another.. he was going through a separation, had 3 great kids and had been living in Vancouver for years.  It was great getting to know him again.

And then last Friday, he died of a heart attack. Poor guy.

At least we reconnected and shared some great stories.  He was an important part of my childhood.  But he’s left many people with a lot of great memories.  He was a good guy. And for a 5 year old, he was a pretty good boyfriend. In fact, few have been able to measure up to him.

Bye Stevie Gillie. You’ll be missed.

Sign, Sign.. Everywhere a Sign..

I’m a great believer in “signs”.

In all seriousness.. there are times when I am pondering something.. a problem, a situation… and I will ask the Universe to send me a sign.  It could be a song on the radio.. an object.. or a literal sign.. like a poster or something.

I’ve seriously had situations where I’ve say, been thinking about a personal situation and asked for an indicator.. and suddenly, in front of me,  the person I’m thinking about’s name plastered on the side of a truck or something.

Or I’ll be in the car and worried and ask for a song as a sign that perhaps I shouldn’t give up hope.. or something to point me in the right direction.. and a specific song will come on..

Now, I have some friends who mock me for this.. and they can all they want.. their prerogative and all.. and yes, I’m a little crazy (but hey, I just let the crazy out in little bits…) But, with the songs for example, I will “ask” for very specific songs, or a particular artist.  Recently I was pondering something and a “special” song came on the radio.. it’s an album cut so it’s not likely to be heard often.

Within a couple of days I heard that song.. ON THE RADIO.. 3 times.  And on different stations. Very odd indeed.

I’ve also found random objects.. and of course, there’s my license plate obsession.

On more than one occasion I’ve been driving along and asked for a “sign”.. and then run across a license plate that held a special message for me… One day I went to a mall that I don’t usually frequent.. thinking about a problem.. and in my head asking for a sign/solution/guidance… what have you.. I pulled into a random parking space .. and the car in front of me had the license plate UNSTUCK. Well, that word speaks to me.. I’ve had many discussions with a couple of friends about being “Stuck”.. not being able to move forward in some areas of life.. and we all agree it’s up to the individual to get themselves “UNSTUCK”.. I have taken that as a sign to get my ass moving…

I was out for a walk the other day and came to a realization about a situation.. right afterward, a car drove by with the license plate “EPIPHANY”. Like, seriously, what are the chances?

So.. keeping this in mind..

My daughter and I see this one guy EVERYWHERE.  He has a pretty distinctive “look”.. earrings, a goatee, wears a hat.. usually dressed in black.. looks like a band guy.

We first ran into him at a bar downtown.. then we’d see him at another place we’d pop into on occasion.. then riding his bike (yes, I realize that if people kinda live in the same area, you’re bound to run into one another.. but still..).. then another place we went for dinner.. and another and another.

Katy and I stopped for a beer at Ethel’s on Friday night.. and in he walks… sits right behind us with his book and his beer.. and sat there reading.  I was seriously contemplating that perhaps he was stalking.. I mean, how often do you run into the same person over and over?

A couple nights later, we decided to pop into the Boathouse for a pint… we’re sitting there and in he walks again!! This was getting a little too weird..   Katy, (please note that there was some liquid courage involved).. decides that THIS IS A SIGN. Maybe, we are supposed to be friends with this dude.. maybe he’s super cool and we should hang with him…????

We watched him head out for a smoke and she decided we should follow him.. he was with a couple of other people.. so she waited for a break in the conversation ….  She said hi, introduced herself and explained that we keep seeing him all over town.. he replied that yes, he’d noticed us too.. particularly a few nights earlier at Ethel’s… he was apparently admiring my jacket.

We then proceeded to have an incredibly inane conversation.  Ok, I’m being harsh. But.. yeah, dude was no where near as cool as we had built him up to be.. he had the look going on, but he was pretty boring and monosyllabic.  He wasn’t a musician (I can’t remember what he said he did..) seemed nice enough.. but.. whattayagonnado…?  The conversation was not scintillating. We were kind of disappointed, to tell the truth.

As we left that night, Katy exclaimed “YEAH. That TOTALLY was not a sign! Plus, now when we see him we might have to hang with him…” LMAO.  Well, at least we made a new beer buddy.

As for my signs.. I’ll stick to hearing them on the radio…

Life: Things are going well… thanks for asking

Love: My horoscope claims that things are going to “heat up”.. .hmmm

Pants: I hope I get new pants for Christmas as pretty much every pair I own are too big. I’m not complaining though…

100 Posts…

I just noticed today that I had surpassed 100 posts.

That’s a lot of words.  It would appear that I have a lot to talk about.. Or more likely I’m just longwinded ..a bit of a babbler..

Regardless, I was taking a look at the original reasons that I started this blog… and thought I’d see how much I’d “progressed”.. if at all….

So, to revisit.. Here are what amounts to my New Year’s resolutions.. and thoughts on the same…

one of my many recent adventures.. this was Oktoberfest.. good times!!

• Get a job. Preferably one I love and can utilize my skills – mocking others and my insane knowledge of useless trivial information. I am thinking “game show host”.

I, unfortunately, have not become a game show host. I KNOW! What a waste!  However, I have discovered that my ultimate goal is to be a writer.. well, I’m already a writer… but I mean write and get paid for it… like, huge money.. . You know, be on Oprah and stuff.. … Now, as far as the job dealio is concerned, I haven’t secured a traditional 9-5 thing.. which is great.. because I’m really not a 9-5 type of chick.. One thing I’ve discovered is that I like working from home.. or wherever I happen to be.. and also like to work at weird hours (that’s the bohemian creative thingy there methinks..)  So, I’m doing some consulting work.. which is very, very cool. I like it.

• Move. I love the house I bought. LOVE IT. That’s the biggest bitch about this whole deal. However, I want to live closer to Waterloo where I can see my kids more regularly and be near my friends and people that I love. Do they have any game shows in Waterloo?

I DID move.. to St. Catharines.. to live with my BFF Jodi.  Which is awesome because she rocks.  However, ultimately want to be back in the K-Dub.  I love Kitchener-Waterloo. A LOT.  Big fan.  I am saying aloud that I plan on being back by February.. putting it out into the Universe, so to speak.. gonna make it happen!

• Find me a boyfriend. I like boys. A lot. However, I seem to be somewhat smarter than many of them and this seems to scare them off. Or it’s my insane good looks. Or my lack of ego. Or the fact that I have spent the last month in my rec room and actually don’t meet humans. I am also removing myself from any internet dating crap (more on that another time). Time to put on my big girl pants and meet aforementioned humans.

This is a tricky one. You see.. I haven’t been ENTIRELY truthful when it comes to the “love” section of the blog.. well, I did take myself off all the internet dating stuff.. mind you, I had a relapse and went back on for a bit.. Chatted with a few guys.. but.. really didn’t have any interest in meeting most.. met a couple.. and.. yeah, not so much. And, removed myself again.

So, to be truthful about this.. hmmm… well, I’ve had some “dates”..  and they were fun and all.. a couple of boys that I liked.. but.. y’know.. nothing came of it.. didn’t work out for various reasons.. so there ya go.

And I’ve rethought this actually.. I guess I don’t so much want a “boyfriend” as just a social life.. which I actually have!! I’ve had a lot of fun lately.. meeting new people and doing fun stuff with some great friends. And really.. fun is the operative word.. I mean, I could “have a boyfriend” if I REALLY wanted one.. I get asked out and stuff. . but.. I want the “right” guy.. ..smart and funny.. Should I be cruising the Perimeter Institute? Comedy clubs?

I know there’s a guy out there for me.. the Universe will send him my way when it’s the right time..   So I’m in no rush.. and not worried about it. Obviously whoever he is is just not ready for me yet.  After all, I AM a lot to handle….  I’ll just have fun in the meantime!

• Adopt a healthier lifestyle. i.e. more veggies, less crap, less liquor (unless it’s a special occasion, like, Tuesday..) more exercise. This will be my greatest challenge as you actually have to get off the couch….

This one.. I’ve been.. pretty good with.. I have been eating less crap.. and have been getting more exercise (really should do more crunches though..) I walk dogs for about 60-90 minutes a day (about 5-6K) and all my pants are too big.. so that’s going pretty well. Less liquor?  Well.. ..  let’s put it this way.. if I DIDN’T do all the walking, I’d likely weigh about 300lbs…

So I actually think I’ve done pretty well with them… I’m happy with my progress. But… still working on it and it’s getting better every day…

Life: It’s all good!

Love: I love my life, my friends, my family….. and Kitchener-Waterloo!

Pants: As I said.. they’re bigger.. I’ve moved in a belt notch and just last night a friend told me I was looking skinny. Yay!

Thankful

A friend died over the weekend.

Bernie Sadilek was just 39.  He had suffered from medical difficulties his entire life… and those likely led to his untimely and unexpected death.

Bernie was actually a friend of a friend.  To be more specific.. he was one of my ex-boyfriend’s best friends.  Trevor (or Fernando as he is more commonly known in this blog) and Bernie had been friends for many years… they had worked together years ago.. and became very close.

On Saturday night when Trevor contacted me to tell me Bernie had passed, I was more than a little shocked. Thirty-nine. Holy shit.  Far too young to go.

So on Sunday when I was out on my walk…

I thought of many memories of Bernie.. he was the first of Trevor’s friends I met.. Memories of us all hanging out.. parties..a few beers… Trevor’s 40th birthday where Bernie wore a “Trevor mask”.. the time he picked us up at the airport when we got back from Germany and on the way home we saw some deer at the Bridgeport cut off on the expressway.. on that same trip we saw a girl crash her car after she very nearly cut us off on the highway. She didnt’ though, as Bernie was an excellent driver…

As well, I was counting my blessings… my children, my health, my good friends… and I was also thankful that I had seen Bernie recently.

After Trevor and I broke up, Bernie and I didn’t speak for a while. Things were tense and .. well, you know.. break ups suck.

Bernie and Trevor at my house..

So it took some time before we re-friended on Facebook and the like..

A couple of weeks ago I went to CKWR to meet my friend Jeremy Smith for coffee… and I got to see Bernie.. it was a brief visit, but we poked fun at one another (apparently I change my Facebook status far too often..) and had a nice chat and a hug.
For the rest of the week, I’d change my Facebook status and mention Bernie’s name in it..  just to be a jerk.

“Beth thinks Bernie will be impressed that this is only the second status update today”

“Beth is desperately trying to avoid changing her status more than twice today… she doesn’t want to offend Bernie”

“Beth apologizes to Bernie for changing her status 3 times today. Please don’t unfriend me Bernie!”

And now Bernie’s gone.

There are many, many other people who were far closer to Bernie than I was and who will feel his loss far more deeply.  But, we were friends.. and I’m glad I saw him that day.

Thirty-nine. Holy.  So sad.

Just drives the point home.. We really only have today. We don’t know what’s in store for us tomorrow.

Thankful that I saw Bernie. Thankful that we were friends.

Just thankful for life.

And each of us today has reason to be thankful… Thankful that we spent time with  and were friends with and knew Bernie… For however brief that time may have been….

Why I will NOT have a career as a Dog Groomer…

It all started with the following text conversation with my son:

Josh: “Mocha has a big chunk of hair out of her back its like a bald spot”.

Me:  “ewww weird.. I’ll look at it when I get home”

Josh: “no, it’s Katy’s fault, she cut the knot out”

Me: “oh ok”

This is "after"... still scruffy, but clean.

then Katy jumped in

Katy: “I ruined your dog LOL”

Here’s the thing with my dog.. she has not been properly groomed in ages. I can’t even remember the last time.. (spring???)   See, the problem is that my friend Rayna moved away.  Rayna is the person who introduced me to Mocha… she’s known her longer than I have.. and pretty much the only one that I think can “handle” her.  Mocha has issues. She’s not the friendliest dog in the world sometimes and quite frankly, I’m afraid to take her to anyone else.

(Please note that this is not a post to guilt Rayna into getting into her car and driving for 5 hours merely to groom my dog.. however, if she chooses to do that, I’m certainly not going to say no….)

So… the last time she was groomed was when Rayna still lived in Cambridge.. months ago.. so since then, I’ve let Mocha go kinda “rasta”.. she’s half poodle and half terrier and so has some crazy curly hair and some shedding hair. And needless to say, she was getting pretty ratty looking.

But let’s not lose sight of the point of this post. This is all Katy’s fault.

When I got back to the house, Mocha was missing a big clump of hair on her back. Earlier in the day I was thinking there was no way she could look more scruffy.. I was wrong.

Which led to today’s events.

Looking at my scraggly mutt, I decided that it was a good idea to trim her motley coat.  I got out the scissors and started clipping away in an attempt to make her look less raggedy. Once again, I was wrong.  It was also not a great idea to do this while she was laying on my bed as this is a relatively messy procedure.

I alternated brushing and clipping while Mocha tried to worm away from me and occasionally tried to nip at me. She really does not enjoy the brushing and grooming. That is actually an understatement. She HATES it.

Soon my bed was covered in fur and Mocha was really wrestling to get away.. so what to do? Of course, bath her.

Now, if there’s one thing she hates more than brushing, it’s bathing. I wrestled her into the tub and soaked her down. And she shook and sprayed me and the entire bathroom.  I lathered her up… and she shook and covered me in soap, water and bubbles. *sigh*  I scrubbed her down as best as I could while struggling not to slip and fall on top of her in the tub.  Good times.

Finally, I rinsed her off.  And waited until she shook to take her out of the tub. And waited. And so did she.  She waited until I was bent over her trying to dry her with the towel until she finally shook. And drenched me. I was wetter than the dog. Awesome.

Mocha then proceeded to run around the house rolling around and “air drying”.  And of course, driving me crazy.

When she dried out some it was obvious that I do not have a future career as a dog groomer.  Still scruffy looking… but the bald patch was a little less noticeable. And at least she smells good.

I think Katy owes me.  Large.  She can pay me in wine.

Life: Getting better every day!

Love: I still love Katy even though she ruined my dog. LOL

Pants: Looser!

Poetic Licence

I have a weird obsession with personalized licence plates.

My plate is ONE LETTER OFF from being my name (BETN 831)… I asked car dood why he didn’t stand in line longer and hold out for one that spelt BETH .. but whatever..

On his way to meet up with Bubba's 1 through 17 methinks..

Interestingly, I’ve never had a personalized plate.. it’s just never occurred to me, to tell the truth.. plus, now that BETH has been used in regular rotation, that’s out.. and I’m sure EVILGENIUS is taken.. or various variations thereof… In all seriousness.. I take pictures of plates I see.. Not too sure why.. but I do like figuring out what they mean and why some of these people have them…

Obviously some are basically pitching their businesses.. which makes sense…  but then you see other ones that you wonder.. was that a gift?  Did they buy it for themselves?  What does it MEAN?  Most of all, it’s the lack of imagination behind some of the plates..

Seriously, so buddy has say, a Mustang.. and so he gets a plate that says “69 Mustang”. Whoa. So imaginative.  Or something along the lines of  “JONSCAR”. Calm DOWN Jon! Seriously, put a bumper sticker on your car that says “I’m so boring my hobby is watching paint dry”.  You get my point.

Hint: read from the right..

I enjoy the plates that you have to figure out and they’re amusing.. like the Hummer I saw the other day with the plate “HEVY MTL”… could be in reference to the car.. could be he loves Metallica..   I also dig the ones where you have to really figure it out..  One of my faves was a Ford Escape whose plate read “S CAP EH”.. a Finding Nemo reference for sure!!

Consequently, I have a tendency to look at people’s plates while I’m driving and out and about.. and take pictures of the cool ones.   And even some of the boring ones.. just for fun.  There’s nothing wrong with the ones that say buddy’s name.. they’re just kinda.. well.. dull. I mean, if you’re spending the extra $100 or whatever it is, why not get creative?  After all, you’re going to have that plate for a long time..

People use vanity plates to promote.. tell us all that they love cats or skiing or fishing or what have you.. indicate their sexual preferences or favourite band.. all kinds of interesting things..

One of my faves ever... it reads PETEBEST.. get it?

Anyone who knows me well knows that I often look for “signs”.. I’ll ask a question of the Universe.. and wait for the “sign”… and interestingly I’ve had several come in the form of plates… One day I was walking.. asked a question and the next 2 cars I saw had the plates “FNTASTC”  and then “PRFCTTIMN”…. which spoke to me… And then just today I found one that said “UNSTUCK”.. also a message.. Like, I mean.. what are the odds?

However, I don’t think I’ll get one.. after all.. all the “BETH” plates are in regular rotation and really it’s kinda boring (although whenever I see one, I take a picture of it. LOL) .. and frankly, I can’t think of anything “plate worthy”.. guess I’m just not vain enough. LOL..

But I’ll keep looking for the funny ones..

Here is an album of plates I’ve taken pics of..

and here is a flicker album of some truly hilarious ones..

Life: It’s all good

Love: See above

Pants: Wearing the dog walking pants.. Mocha’s getting restless.. .

40 Minutes I’ll Never Get Back (or why Zamfir should burn in hell…)

I had to call tech support today.. My website (www.evilgeniusmarketing.ca) would not let me upload pics. And I really really wanted that Wizard of Oz pic on there..

My webhosting service is in Vancouver.  Why you ask? Because I am a moron apparently.  A friend suggested them and I went ahead and signed up without realizing they were across the country.  Which means, if I have issues at 9am, it’s 6am there and I have to wait till noon to call the stupid ass toll free line.

I'm sure he's a lovely man, but I still want to snap his flute in half...

So yesterday I posted.. and the picture would NOT load. And I couldn’t reach them. So I emailed. Nothing.

Today.. still not working.. so I called again. Got the recorded .. “press 3 for tech support”.. and was immediately placed in hold music hell.

It was pan flute music. Zamfir, Master of the Pan Flute. Playing “My Heart Will Go On”.

Kill me. Now.

I mean, sure, there’s obviously a market for pan flute music.. for dentists’ offices, massage therapists, elevator music and the like.  And apparently, for hold music. REAL HUMANS don’t actually listen to this stuff, like, in their car or anything. I mean, that’s just UNSAFE… the soothing  tones of the pan flute lull you into an altered state and you crash.. see? Not good.

I think the thought is that it’s “calming”.  Yeah. It’s NOT. It’s irritating as fuck.  Seriously. First of all,  I’m a rocker. I’m listening to AC/DC as I write this. There’s no freakin” pan flute in rock music. You can add every other musical instrument ever. Bag pipes. Triangle. Flute. Pan flute is played by that crazy ass satyr Tewt in the “Mighty Hercules” cartoon. HE ONLY SPOKE THROUGH THE PAN FLUTE.  That is messed. But what do you expect… his name’s Tewt.

 

But I digress.

The first.. say.. two minutes.. were okay. I did not feel the need to kill anyone. However.. approaching minute four I was looking for the knife block. To slit my own wrists.

To avoid insanity I started looking for things to do..changed my Facebook status.. and then “liked” everyone’s posts. I was bored. It was a bad move.

I have 763  new emails informing me of everyone who also “liked” or commented on everyone else’s status.

And I wasn’t even drunk.  Although I did look at the clock and think it was 5 o’clock and cracked open a beer. Then realized the clocks hadn’t been turned back.  But that’s beside the point..

So what to do while waiting to be helped? Update my Tweets of course (not to be confused with Tewt..)

I am in tech support muzak hell.

The muzak on hold is lulling me into unconsciousness. I hate you tech support. You are frying my brain via panflute.

I just went on facebook and “liked” EVERYONE’S status. That, my friends, was a mistake. *email box filling with notifications*

.@katbron yes, it is frying my brain….. Damn you Zamfir Master of the Pan flute.

Good news everybody! I’ve received word that hot asian women are dying to meet me! Awesome! (this has nothing to do with tech support.. I just got this good news while I was “liking” everyone on Facebook…)

@meggroff no no.. yours I really really liked. A lot. Best one today. <–Meg accused me of not REALLY liking her status.

I am singing along to the pan flute version of “My Heart Will Go On”.. and  praying for the sweet release of death.

I can actually feel myself slipping into a coma…

Off tech support call.. waited 40 minutes for someone to tell me they’ll call back. Pan flute tune still searing my neurons. arrrrrrgh

@jeffsoltysiak I was on hold for 40 mins. I have pan flute inflicted brain damage.

Yay! Tech support fixed my problem! I forgive you for the pan flute. But not you, Zamfir. Not you.

Eventually I received an email from tech support telling me they reset a whatchamajiggy and the problem should be fixed.. and it was.. and I uploaded my pic.

However, I was still left with the theme to Titanic searing through my grey matter.  You can witness the terror yourself by clicking here.

My heart will go on… but my brain needs some more AC/DC therapy…

Life: Awesome!

Love: I do not love the pan flute. Just sayin’

Pants: I was wearing pants through the entire ordeal.

Have You Ever Ever Lost An Elephant?

I’m going out to buy a record player today. Yes, I am cutting edge.

I’ve kept only one toy from my childhood.. a brown stuffed dog named Jingles.  The pup was a gift on my fifth birthday from my Grandmother… and was my cherished companion every night when I slept.  Many nights I cuddled Jingles.. whispering secrets.. sometimes a few tears…

Jingles disappeared at one point around the time I was about 30.  I figured it would turn up eventually.. somewhere in the house.  Around the same time, one of my daughter’s first toys.. a small black lamb named “Bobby” (get it? Baaaaaabby…)  also went missing. Despite many searches, they remained lost.

Flash forward five years.. one day I was taking my son Josh to school and was having a chat with his grade 2 teacher when I looked down at the toy shelf.. and there was Jingles!  “That’s my dog!” I exclaimed and went on to “prove” it.. one of Jingles eyes was chipped.. and he had a wire inside him to hold his shape.. it was still bent inside from my many nights of cuddling…

And sitting beside Jingles… was Bobby!!

Mrs. Hardy and I figured out that Katy brought the toys for show and tell and forgot them. They had been sitting in her class ever since.. being played with by countless children over the course of 5 years..  Thankfully, Mrs. Hardy let me take both toys back.. Obviously, we were meant to get Jingles and Bobby back…. Katy and both have these precious childhood souvenirs on display in our respective bedrooms.

Twice recently I had occasion to talk about another childhood toy.. the Mickey Mouse record player.

My sisters and I received it for Christmas from Santa one year along with 100 kids 45’s .. we had picked it out ourselves whilst browsing through the Sears Wish Book. That Santa is SMRT.

We’d play all the records.. and dance around..

My youngest sister, Lara, was very fond of the record player and would play music all day long while Barb and I were at school.  In particular, Lara enjoyed “The Elephant Song”.  She would play the  same 45 over, and over, and over…. again.  My mother drew little elephants on the label so that Lara would know which record it was..

This song has special  notoriety in my family as a result.. .when we were much younger, the three of us started “performing” the song for our cousins and such amid much laughter. There’s a musical interlude in the song.. and when singing it at one point for said relatives, when we got to that part, we elected to insert a “nose solo”. It brought the house down.

As a result of our unique singing ability, my sisters and I have been coerced into singing said musical masterpiece at various family functions.. particularly weddings…. the nose solo is still the highlight of the tune.

So twice in the last week the subject of the infamous Elephant Song and the Mickey Mouse Record player has come up. I’ve never been able to find this song on the interwebs.. and I’ve never run across anyone else who’s even heard of the song.. until I sing it for them in my most operatic  vibrato…  Katy and I even performed the song one evening for her boyfriend… and yes, he lost it at the nose solo….

I was out for a walk yesterday and while waltzing down King Street I looked into a store window… and there it was!! The Mickey Mouse record player!  Mickey’s outstretched arm across the turntable as if he was pointing at me.. “Beth! Look! It’s your old pal Mickey!”

I am a huge believer in “signs”.. and this one was certainly directed at me.  On the turntable? No, not the elephant song, but a 45 about “Meditation and Self Realization”… message noted, Universe.

I’ve been re-evaluating and soul searching and working on various self improvement for a while now.. and I certainly believe this message was aimed directly at me.. plus, the thought of that record player and the joy it brought us brings back many happy memories..

I had dogs with me, so couldn’t go in… I called the store later in the day and yes, it’s for sale. I’m going to get it today… and perhaps look through their 45’s for the aforementioned paean to pachyderms…

I’ve never, ever lost an elephant… but I did lose my stuffed dog once.. but more importantly, I’m continually finding out more about myself every day.

The Elephant Song

Have you ever ever lost an elephant? It’s really quite a silly thing to do

But there’s something even sillier.. and that is losing two

And that’s what we have done today.. Arthur and Celeste have run away..

Their mother’s crying and worried so… oh where oh where did our elephants go?

We have lost 2 little elephants.. we’re looking north and south and east and west..

for two thousand pounds of dear little elephants.. named Arthur and Celeste.

(insert nose solo)

And that’s what we have done today.. Arthur and Celeste have run away..

Their mother’s crying and worried so… oh where oh where did our elephants go?

We have lost 2 little elephants.. we’re looking north and south and east and west..

for two thousand pounds of dear little elephants.. named Arthur and Celeste…

Arthur and Celeste….

Arthur and Celeste…..Arthur! Celeste!….

Life: The universe is conspiring on my behalf

Love: I love when interesting things happen

Pants: Walking a lot every day.. for exercise and for the adventures!

The Luckiest Girl in the World

Today was a strange anniversary of sorts… the 15th Anniversary of the day I was cut out of a car.  I reflect and celebrate this day every year.

In October 1994 I found out I was pregnant with our second child.. I told my husband on our anniversary.. October 6th.  That weekend we went to my parents for dinner… told them I was pregnant again .. and we went to the movies (went to see True Lies…)  And… my car was stolen from the parking lot of the Centre Mall in Hamilton, Ontario (yeah yeah, cracks about the Hammer.. I’ve heard ‘em all…).

We're survivors. And good looking too... LOL

On the plus side, we got a ride home in a police car.. on the downside, we lost my briefcase, some golfclubs.. five year old Katy lost her “bra” .. she was quite upset.. oh, and the car.

The car.. my little red 1990 Dodge Shadow.. was found about a week later and we towed it to Waterloo to get fixed up. All in all it was gone about a month.. and on November 1, 1994 I went to Gary’s Automotive to pick up my newly restored vehicle.

It was AWESOME! All clean and repainted and pretty and shampooed.. I sat in the parking lot for a bit waiting for the car to defog and just getting used to it.. then headed out of the parking lot.

I drove about a block and stopped at the sign.. it’s a funny intersection where the stop sign is before the corner and there’s a bunch of trees… I stopped at the sign very carefully as there were new brakes on the car… then started through the intersection… and was suddenly slammed by another car.

I literally didn’t see what hit me. Tires screeching, glass shattering.. the awful crashing sound… I spun 180 degrees and ended up across the street on the lawn of a business.

People came running.. I didn’t appear to be bleeding… but the back of my head hurt.. I had been hit on the driver’s side and I was practically in the middle of the car.  All I could think about was that I was eight weeks pregnant… and would the baby be okay.

One of the women who came to help asked who she could call.. I gave her my husband’s number.. the paramedics arrived. I was in shock.

The firefighter told me I’d have to be cut out of the car. I asked him to pass me my purse.  He said I didn’t need it, but I insisted. I dug through it and handed him a piece of gum.  He had AWFUL breath. (I told you, I was in shock).

I told them that I was pregnant. … They cut me out, put me on a backboard and in an ambulance and to the hospital.  They took the fellow who hit me too.. another mechanic testing the brakes on a car (guess they weren’t working so great…) He had a large gash in his head.. he hadn’t been wearing a seatbelt and hit the windshield.

My husband showed up at the hospital and the first thing he said to me was “if you’re going to have a car accident every time you get pregnant, we’re not having any more kids”.. I had had a minor fender bender while pregnant with Katy…. I laughed.  Then I cried. I was terrified. And covered in glass.

They wanted to xray me but could not due to the pregnancy..  they checked me out.. but they gave me an ultrasound which showed the baby’s heartbeat.. and then tried to get me to stand at which point I screamed out in pain. I had fractured my pelvis at my right hip.  Consequently I was bedridden for weeks and had to walk with crutches and a cane for a long time… and no drugs because of the baby. I was fine with that. As long as my baby was safe.

It was a difficult pregnancy as a result.. and then the delivery of the baby was fraught with problems and I had to have an emergency Caesarean section. He nearly died. I nearly died.

But we didn’t.  Joshua Sade James Warren is now a wonderful 14 year old boy… well, as wonderful as 14 year old boys can be.

He’s hilariously funny.. and I thank God every single day that we both lived through our ordeal.  Because it could have been much much worse.

So, this morning I gave him a hug and told him what day it was and that I loved him and that I was SO thankful that he was an irritating, smart ass,  pain in the butt teenager. And he told me he loved me too. Then he played “Mortal Combat”. Again. And did not watch his language.

Later in the day Josh and I were trying to heave some pumpkins into a large refuse container and not having a ton of luck.. (it’s very tall).. we would throw them and miss and they would nearly hit us ….but we were laughing our heads off..  Then we were headed out.. and  once we got into the car realized that Josh had stepped in dog crap.. so we had to pull over so he could freak out and clean off his shoe.

He got quite upset over his little accident.. but I reminded him that in the scheme of things.. it was really inconsquential. And he agreed. But still complained a bit.

As many challenges as life throws my way, I know I’m up for them.  I could be dead. I could not be mother to one of the most wonderful people in the world (please keep in mind that my daughter is also one of those..)

I have my beautiful children… my health.. I no longer walk with a limp (although the hip does pain me on occasion..).. and I have a wonderful life.

And therefore, I am the luckiest girl in the world.

Life: All good baby!

Love: Here’s your answer

Pants: Looser! All good…

A 5 Year Old’s Guide to Hitchhiking

When I was five years’ old I hitchhiked. 

At one point, my childhood friend Julie and I were standing in her front yard and she showed me that if you stuck your thumb out, then someone would stop and give you a ride.  So really, it’s all her fault.

This is me at age 1. I couldnt' find a picture of me at age 5. But I was cute. Trust me.

Here’s what happened.. one lovely summer’s day, my family and I (Mom, Dad, Barb, Lara and myself..) were on the way home in the station wagon and we needed to stop at a Mac’s Milk for.. well, milk. My sisters and I were kind of fighting and my mother was very annoyed with us. 

My dad ran in to get the milk and as he was heading into the store, he noticed a bird’s nest in the rafters and commented on it and how you could see the baby birds.  We wanted to get out of the car to look, but my mother wouldn’t let us because we weren’t behaving. I was annoyed. I wanted to see baby birds!

We went home and I think we had to all go to our rooms since we were misbehaving.  Well, let me tell you.. the misbehaving was just beginning.

We lived in a bungalow at the time and my bedroom window opened onto the front porch. Being the amateur escape artist that I was… I decided that I didn’t want to stay in my room and climbed out the window and went to Julie’s house. 

Julie wasn’t allowed to come out.. so for some reason, I decided that it would be a good idea to walk to the Mac’s Milk to see those baby birds.  I  craved adventure.

Please keep in mind that I was 5 years old. And that Mac’s Milk was located at the intersection of Hwy 8 and Hwy 20 in the east end of Hamilton Ontario. And it was about one and a half miles from my house. This I was unaware of.. being 5 and all.

So I started walking.. walking all the way down King St (Highway 8)… and passing by numerous things that I had only ever passed in the car, but was curious about. Like a little shed that my sister Barb and I were SURE was home to some elves or gnomes.. in reality, it contained water pipes. I was deeply disappointed.

When I finally got to the Mac’s Milk I looked up to see these baby birds. And saw NOTHING. No freakin’ nest. No freakin’ birds.  Awesome. I looked and looked. Nothing. Suckage.

I started walking back toward home.. and I was tired. (Remember? Five years old.. over a mile.. short legs.. )

I suddenly remembered how Julie told me that if I stuck my thumb out I’d get a ride. So I did. And a car stopped.

It was a black car (a Chev I believe..) with red interior and there was a man and a lady with a scarf on her head. I got in the car.. and they asked me my name and where I lived.  And we started driving and I gave them directions.

(At this point I’d like to thank God, Jesus, Buddha and Allah for sending these people instead of psycho killers. Thanks.)

We headed toward home and at some point it suddenly struck me that I might get into trouble for this little adventure. I tried to get them to drop me off on the corner a block from my house.. and they refused. They wanted me to get home safely. So I had to tell them exactly where I lived.

I distinctly remember saying to them that I lived in the house where the man was washing the driveway.  (This was before we all got all environmentally conscious and you could still do said things.. ) They pulled up and left me in the care of my lovely and hopefully hugely forgiving .. father.

Needless to say, my parents were unaware that I left the house.. I have no idea how long I was gone.. but …also needless to say.. I got in a LOT of trouble. A LOT.

There are several morals to this story.. first of all.. you really shouldn’t hitchhike. Especially if you’re five. Don’t take rides from strangers. I just got lucky that they were nice strangers.  And as much as you crave adventure, be careful.  That, and I had a better sense of direction at age 5 than most adults I know do.

Oh, and if your dad tells you there’s a bird’s nest… just take his word for it.

Life: All good baby… all good

Love: Makes the world go around..

Pants: Looser.