Every Wednesday is Tip Day!

Make Children's Artwork Your Wallpaper

No, not actual wallpaper, silly! Although that would be kind of ...interesting. This is for the tech-savvy and the inundated. (But if I can do it then seriously ANYBODY can.) When your child has created the latest masterpiece, if it's one dimensional, you can scan it. Or take it to a copy centre and have them scan it for you and put it on a thumb-drive.

Then you can make it your screensaver/background/wallpaper.

I thought that one was particularly inspired because it got me thinking about scanning all their artwork. But more on that later.

The Natural Way to Feel Shitty

If you think you might be too cheerful, and that you are in danger of starting your day on a happy note, the single most effective remedy is to set your radio alarm clock to come on with The News.

There's nothing like having your first conscious thought of the day be: "The child's disappearance has ended in the worst way... police have laid murder charges ... a search is underway for her body."

As an average person, this is a sucky way to start the day. As a parent, this is the kind of news that has me dry-heaving with rage and fear. Again, not a good way to start the day.

It's not that I don't want to be informed about the world. Wait a minute. Actually, yeah it is. I have absolutely no interest in being informed about the world. The world will take care of itself with or without my opinion.

So. I am going to switch the radio station to something obnoxiously cheerful, like Nat & Drew's Morning Show which will wake me up with Paris Hilton gossip.

That I can take.

The Road Ahead

Within less than a week, I heard about a job, applied for the job, interviewed for the job, and ....wait for it....GOT THE JOB!

I am employed.

And best of all, I still have the summer off! I'm very happy about it. This will be a different kind of teaching experience. I'm going from one extreme to the other. I'll write more about it later, but right now I'm still adjusting to whole idea. Woo hoo!

Wednesday. Yawn. Tip Day....Yawn

My friend says my Tip Days are getting boring. He's right. They're very female-centered and a bit weird. I'm already narrowing down my readership with my maudlin posts, irregularity and bizarre tips.

So today's tip is in honour my charming friend Chris, whom I adore for so many reasons (not the least of which is because he makes my Amazing Friend Andrea Very Happy). I dig him because he Tells It Like It Is, and does so in a way that makes you just go, "Yeah."

Today's Tip:

Never braid your eyelashes.

Just don't.

You're welcome.

Brown Sugar Scrub

Today I was cruising around the expensive skincare at the cosmetics counter. I opened a jar of gorgeous-smelling stuff that looked like mashed potatoes. It was a body scrub. Then I thought to myself, "Self - you can do this at home." I agreed with myself and just tried this:

Mix some brown sugar with a little olive oil. Rub it anywhere you want. (Not on the Dog.) I put it on my lips because they've been chapped lately. Then slathered it all over my hands for good measure. YOU HAVE TO TRY THIS! Yes, even you Chris! Even. You. It's so lovely.

Just try it and tell me you don't want to kiss everyone with those lips!

Every Wednesday is Tip Day

Lobster? Tomato? Beet? Which shade are you after a day in the sun without sunscreen? AND HOW COULD YOU GO OUTSIDE WITHOUT SUNSCREEN???!!! ARE YOU CRAZY????!!!

Instead of smearing yourself with calamine lotion, if it's on your face, try this:

* Mash together 10 blueberries and 1 tablespoon of plain yogurt. Spread it on your face and leave it on for 15 minutes. Again, don't go out in public while you have mashed blueberries and yogurt on your face.

Why on earth should you do this: blueberries are full of vitamins C and E which repair and moisturize kin. Yogurt is full of lactic acid which helps exfoliate the sun-damaged layers of the epidermis. Now, remember to wear your sunscreen next time, or you'll have to put blueberries on your face again.

Happy Mother's Day Cheryl

On Mother's Day, I often think about my mom and I get a little sad, but I also feel grateful that I had her for thirty-three years.

This year, I am feeling grateful for a new mother; my step-mother. Even though I pride myself on being able to use words eloquently, I don't usually say the three most important ones to her. I've felt a bit awkward doing so, but this year is different.

I didn't send her flowers or a fruit basket. I didn't visit with a little gift. I didn't do anything for her. But this is the year, more than ever before, I've felt her love for me.

More so even than when she caused the first real smile to spread over my father's face.
More so than the day she radiantly became his wife.
More so than the day she came to hold her first grandchild (my baby Roo).

I feel it because I know that she would do anything for me. She's that kind of woman whose strength surpasses so many things.

Some people would find it daunting to walk into a ready-made family that was grieving.

She did anyway.

Nobody can read my mind and know exactly what I'm thinking.

She does anyway.

Sometimes, I make it really hard to love and appreciate me.

She does anyway.

Some of my mom's friends didn't think she would 'fit in' to their circle when she met my dad.

She did anyway.

I never seem to say "I love you".

She does anyway.

Cheryl, when you came into our lives - you were the sunshine after a long, sad winter. You shone in your own quiet way, never asking us to be something we're not, never judging, never offering advice unless asked. You just shone and were always there. You still shine. And it's a strength and a comfort to know that you are always there when I need you.

And I love you.

Gratitude

I should clarify my gardening experience.

I had a lot of help. My in-laws took an early ferry to come and muck around in our garden and turn it into - well, a garden. They worked hard. But most of all, they showed us what to do. My mother-in-law has a totally kick-ass garden. She's the kind of person who knows How to Do Things Domestic. She can cook without a recipe, sew virtually anything, and can make a plant grow by telling it to.

What all seems like magic powers to me is simple in her mind. She said, "You really just have to water plants,". And the sewing? Follow a pattern. See, I wasn't raised with domesticity. My mother had a different approach, and bless her for it. She was part of a generation that was all about proving that a woman could be and do whatever she wanted, and as such, she veered as far away from traditionally feminine things as possible. In her generation, she was pretty modern-thinking. I love what she modeled to me and I am grateful that she stuck to it, in spite of taking a lot of flack from a lot of people about how she raised her family.

And it explains why I'm so domestically-challenged. When Husband and I got married, I was a hopeless cook. But again, I come back to my mother-in-law, who would again say, "If you can read, you can cook,". She's right, of course. And I took unprecedented pleasure in making something not only edible, but good. I surprised myself.

What surprises me the most all this is the fact that I really want to be like that. I want to have a kick-ass garden and I want to take pleasure in puttering about in it. I want to be a better cook and to enjoy trying new recipes. I want to be able to sew - you have no idea how much I want to be able to sew - but all of this stuff is shadowed in two things: apology and anxiety.

Sometimes I feel like apologizing to my mom for being so different from her. I wonder if she'd be horrified that I'm more interested in making a garden than in pursuing a higher education. Would she be disappointed that my sights are set so domestically rather than professionally? And the anxiety comes from fear of not being able to do it.

Of course this all stems from comparison. I don't have to be like my mother or my mother-in-law. My mom was career-minded and I'm proud of her accomplishments. My mother-in-law is less so and I'm in awe of the things she can do, especially because she thinks it's no big deal to be able to do them.

Is there a happy medium? Does there need to be? At 38 I am still finding myself. Maybe I'll find her in the tilled earth...

Every Wednesday is Tip Day

This week I'm still obsessed with hair. Why? Because so much of mine is on the bathroom floor EVERY DAY that I might as well pay attention to it. My dog suffers from frizzy hair, like me. Although Dog patently refuses this treatment, you may choose to try it after all.

Get a banana. And an avocado.

Mash them up together to make the most unappealing dessert ever invented. Comb the mixture through your DRY hair. Cover your hair with a plastic cap and leave on for ten minutes. Obviously, then you rinse it out. I don't recommend going out in public during those ten minutes because you have mashed banana and avocado on your head. Oh yeah, and a plastic cap.

I can't guarantee that you won't smell vaguely like a fruit salad for the rest of the day, but your hair will be softer. And you will probably cooperate much better with yourself than Dog does with me while trying to wrap him up in a huge bin liner.

Garden Bootcamp

I've turned a major corner in my journey to adulthood. I have a garden. (That's as huge to me as buying my first car, when I couldn't believe I owned something so expensive! Now I can't believe I made something so expensive!)

Until yesterday, we couldn't call what we have in the back of our house a 'garden'. We could only call it an Expanse of Moss and Dog Poo.

But not anymore.

I spent the weekend in gardening boot camp. Crack of dawn, we were running drills (or hoes or something), and yelling at the recruits. I ran obstacle courses (no, really - when Husband is putting in a sprinkler system, it is very much an obstacle course).

It was Full Metal Wheelbarrow.

I hauled, I pulled, I yanked. I even sustained my first ever garden injury. Nothing spectacular, I didn't chop off anything vital (except half a cedar bush). Yeah, apparently you can't just hack away at things. Who knew?

Because I poured blood and sweat into this thing, I now take it very seriously. The neighbours may enjoy looking at our garden now, but won't enjoy listening to me constantly barking at Dog to "Get OUT! OUT! OUT!" Yes, I'm completely obsessed with it now. When I accidentally crushed something newly planted, I yelled, "FERN DOWN! FERN DOWN!" and was genuinely surprised when people didn't come running.

What the hell? This is a tender shoot, people! You never leave a buddy trampled!

This means that I'll be that neighbourhood bag who screams at kids to "Get the hell out of my Ladies Mantle!". Until Friday, I thought that's what you said to your horny date.

Sorry. Now you'll never think of it the same way.

Swine and Roses

OHMYGOD! It's swine flu!!! Everybody panic!!!! Wash your hands! Again!

People here are fuh-REAKING out. And people need to seriously chill the f**k out. There were three kids at the Little Girl's preschool this morning because everyone is terrified that somebody's gonna sneeze.

This is, yes, I'm going to say it, retarded.

"How can you have a friend from Mexico living in your house?! How can you put your children at risk like that?!"

Because we're rational, that's why.

A local school board has cancelled a long-awaited trip to England (for which the kids fund-raised) because of Swine Flu. England people - is in the EXACT opposite direction from Mexico, and across and entire OCEAN!

Let's pause and consider that maybe, just maybe the media is doing what it does best: generating and feeding principally on fear. This from a hard-core worrier.

Have a lovely day. Lick something dirty.