The Pirate's Pen

With thanks to Sissy and Podgy for pointing this out.

Everyone could use a little random joy.




Cry and you cry alone.

Dance, and the world will dance with you!

My four year old knows this, but it took a stranger dancing on YouTube to remind me.

People are people everywhere.

This is beautiful, and joyful and serves no purpose at all.

Yup! The bakery that made the cake for our wedding, ten years ago today, made another little one just for us this morning, so we had wedding cake and coffee for breakfast!

I've been married to Sweet Hubby for ten years today, and, in spite of periodically fantasizing about holding a pillow over his face while he sleeps, I wouldn't trade a minute of it. On the surface, we seem like an odd couple...he's all patient and soft spoken and sweet natured and I'm all, well, NOT any of those things. But for some freaky reason we work. And still really LIKE each other. He makes me laugh, gets the things that are important to me, knows how to wind me up just for sport like nobody else can, and I don't have to dumb the jokes down for him. (Nor for most of you who read this page either, but the world's a big, slip-on-dummy-shoe-wearing place!)

Romantic love is funny, it comes and goes depending on about a billion external distractions and stresses. Sometimes a bit less, sometimes more, but even on the days I wasn't sure I was in LOVE I've never not been very deeply in LIKE with Sweet Hubby. The rest always comes back, (even if our "doin' it on the diswasher days" might be mostly behind us)but the foundation of LIKE holds us together in between.

I think we work mostly BECAUSE we're such an odd match. If we were both like me, we'd have punched each other's lights out before the first date had ended. (He was late)

If we were both like HIM, we'd still be ON the first date. (A man of decisive action, he ain't!)

But together, we balance each other out.

I'm a better person because of him.

And even if I knew then what I know now, I'd choose him again in a heartbeat.

Happy 10th to my wonderful partner in crime, and perfect moving buddy!

Once you are a parent, periodically, maybe watching the news, maybe just hearing someone else's kid's voice in the grocery store, you get struck by just how different your life would be if you didn't have your own child.

It's awful.

It's paralyzing.

Parenting is absolutely having to resign yourself to having your heart and soul walking around with their own free will outside of your body for the rest of your life.

If it isn't, you're doing it wrong.

It should scare the hell out of you.

And mean more than anything, ever.

To every parent who has ever lost a child, my heart breaks for you.

It shouldn't ever happen.

Yes, Owen is fine, that's not it.

My four year old just opened his chocolate Emperor Penguin from Easter.

And proudly announced "My chocolate has a BUTT!!!!"

I love four year olds!

Yeah yeah, I know.

I'm a bad blogger. I've got a lot to talk about, good and bad. I'm back at work on a permanently reduced work week that is hopefully going to help break the cycle of working until I fall apart, then losing three to five months at a pop to auto-immune flares that get worse with stress and exhaustion. My company has actually been really marvelous about working with me to come up with a schedule that works to help me keep all the balls in the air. It means less money on paper, but after tax and what we save on daycare, we actually come out ahead.

Of course, today, I have the flu, so I'm not feeling too successful at the moment. There's a lot going on, including the loosening of the financial vice finally. On what we've been earning the $800/month for daycare has been crippling us for years. That gets halved in September when Hurricane Owen starts Junior Kindergarten, AND our earnings are actually going to see a significant increase this year. So finally, after years, going to be able to get through a month with all the bills paid, and not having to borrow from one to pay the other.

I had a really long rant planned for this entry. I know this winter feels like it's never going to end, people everywhere are getting short tempered, depressed and miserable. We're all in the same boat. People at work are grumpy, the neighbours are grumpy (and still parking in my parking spot!)a lot of my friends are grumpy, hell, even my four year old is grumpy. So my rant was going to address that. Instead, I want to talk about people facing a much tougher set of circumstances than most of us, and who have been remarkably, inspiringly UN-grumpy.

My mom n dad.

Alright, those of you who know all of us, either get back up off the floor or stop laughing. Mom and I had a difficult relationship through most of my teens, with plenty of blame on both sides. Adulthood, however has given me a new perspective on my mom, parenthood even more so, but the last few months have revealed a determination and strength of character that I would never in a million years have guessed my mom capable of. Maybe my bad for underestimating her, and maybe just tough circumstances have left her no other alternative, but damn my mom can be one tough cookie!

In January, after having the disappointment of having it canceled at the last minute in November, my mom finally took a deep breath and went ahead with her hip replacement. The surgery itself went better than expected, however, as a diabetic on dialysis with a heart condition, her recovery has been, needless to say, complicated. Her dialysis began to fail within a week or so of her returning home from the hospital, requiring, while still recovering from major surgery, that she have ANOTHER surgery to insert a stent into her jugular vein allowing for hemo dialysis, since most of her veins are too narrowed or too weak. She's had a bronchial infection that she can't kill and can't shake, and because she's in kidney failure, can't even take anything for. You know that cough that keeps you up all night and hurts so much you feel like you've been doing sit ups for days non-stop? Now do it with a fresh incision in your jugular vein, and no Benylin to keep it at bay. Haul yourself on your still recovering hip, three days a week back into the hospital to sit, for up to 12 hours a day in a hospital ward, having all your blood taken out, washed, and put back in.

Now tell me what a hard winter you've had.

What I'm finding most remarkable about my mom these days is that she is still herself. Still laughing at her grandson, following the primaries and trying, as much as possible, to get on with her life. Mom's always been kind of a suck. She reads this blog, she knows it's true. She has always had a very low tolerance for any kind of discomfort, and been very vocal in letting you know if something hurts, along with all the accompanying theatrics.

Not this time.

She's been very matter of fact about things. She told us the hip replacement would either be a new lease on life, or the beginning of the end. It could still go either way, but I know which one she's been thinking about the most lately. In spite of that her courage and continued cheerfulness have been absolutely humbling. I don't think I could maintain normal nearly so well under such incredibly trying circumstances. I've learned a lot about my mom since my teens, a lot of it has given me an insight into some of the problems we had. Nothing, however, that would have made the courage, humour and perspective that she's demonstrated these last few months any less amazing, though. Along with my dad, the unsung hero of the situation, who has quietly adjusted his whole routine to supporting hers, she just keeps going.

It's easy to forget to see your parents as real people. When you're a kid, they're invincible, and know everything. When you're a teenager, they're old-fashioned and stupid and don't know ANYTHING. As an adult, watching these two, who have been best friends since they were children, who are best friends still, with so much shared history between them now having to adjust to the frailties and uncertainties of getting older, and seeing real, whole, complicated people who still have a long list of things they want to accomplish, things that frustrate them and things that frighten them, still moving together, adjusting the plan as they go along, and still dancing the two-step of a shared life begun decades ago, is really awe inspiring for us young newleyweds. (a mere ten years)

I'm not sure which takes more courage, him, watching someone he loves in pain, staying with her through all the tests, surgeries, consultations and dialysis sessions, (Hell, he probably knows St. Joseph's Hospital better than half the staff!) then coming home, and carrying on life as usual, or her, maintaining normal for everyone else's sake. Either way, I lucked into some pretty amazing parents. If my marriage has half that depth and staying power, I'll be a very lucky person indeed.

I'm still figuring out just how interesting my parents are. I'm sure as hell not ready to lose either of them yet.

Addendum

Of course, my husband's theory is that my mother's real agenda is to give the rest of us heart attacks, then outlive us all out of spite!

A present for anyone trying to eat lighter, but not willing to give up a good weekend breakfast.

2 lbs lean minced turkey
1 tsp ground black pepper
1.5 tsp salt
1 tsp sage
1/2 teaspoon cayenne pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger.

Crumble turkey into a mixing bowl, then add other ingredients and blend thoroughly.

Shape into sixteen 2.5 inch patties, and fry in ungreased, non-stick pan until golden, turning to brown both sides, until no pink remains.

Eat.  It tastes like sausage.  Really.

Freeze unused cooked patties for later use. (Turkey doesn't last long with ordinary refrigeration)

2 patties = 85 calories (VS commercially prepared pork sausage patties, with 2 patties coming in at 280 calories!)
5 g fat
45 mg cholesterol
275 mg sodium
10g protein
Diabetic exchanges 2 very lean meat, 1/2 fat.
Weight Watchers-4 points per 2 patties (or 2 points each,  figure it out!)

Revel in your culinary prowess.  You just made homemade sausage, and hour house smells like it.

To put it in perspective, you can have two Eggo Plus blueberry waffles, 1/4 cup diabetic syrup, (which is quite palatable, as long as you buy the Splenda kind) and a sausage patty for the same approximate calories as a bowl of Special K with a sliced banana on top.  Each has it's place, but around here we like our weekend breakfasts.

We just bought Hurricane Owen tickets to see the Backyardigans live in Toronto on Mar. 1. Not sure what he's going to dig more, the show, or the train ride in.

If you don't know what a Backyardigan is, you don't have a preschooler.

Owen refused to put his hat on this morning.

It was snowing hard, so I insisted, which upset him.

When I asked him WHY he suddenly didn't want to wear his hat, which he loves, he answered:

"Because "hate" starts with "hat", Mommy, and hate makes people sad."

I have no idea how to argue with this.

Daddy's response (moved to the front page, because it made salsa come out of  the_songbird 's nose) was:

"Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hat. Hat leads to suffering...."

And at quarter to ten on Saturday morning, my three year old just ran past me singing "Gold toy trains and little tow trucks..."

You other Christmas giggle is below. Scotty, especially, should appreciate the absurdity of it.

http://isitchristmas.com/

1/2 oz Jack Daniel's® Tennessee whiskey
1/2 oz amaretto almond liqueur
1/2 oz Bailey's® Irish cream

Ok, so we took a chance and replaced the slab of granite mattress that we've been sleeping on for the last then years last month. I say took a chance, because it was expensive, and due to the most recent flare of the auto-immune condition I'm always struggling with, I'm off work again on medical leave. (The insurance company never recorded my return to work last year, and there was some question as to whether or not I was covered, resulting in a 6 week delay in benefits, but that's another story) It was necessary, because not being able to stand the touch of your own bed when you're sick isn't exactly conducive to recovery. I was glad to see it go, even though it's going to take me until February to pay for.

Apparently the old mattress must have said something to the washing machine on the way out the door, because it quit this weekend. All of my cars and major appliances conspire to break down together, usually when money is tight. We live in a cozy little rented townhouse. The dryer is part of the rental, and therefore not my problem. Naturally, it's working just fine. However, due to their habit of breaking frequently, tenants are on their own to provide and maintain a washing machine.

We did well. My father, a cross between Red Green and Mac Guyver, found an ancient model at the re-use center and bought it for $25.00. Then he added another $20.00 worth of new pipes and bits, and for six years, I've had a working washing machine that was all but free.

Good deal!

Naturally, when it quit, my first impulse was to call MacDad, and ask him if he could work his magic. Dad did his best, but I'm afraid we got a little more Red Green than Mac Guyver this time, and now my washing machine is possessed. The settings on the dial bear no resemblance to what it will actually do. Going to the normal "fill" setting causes it to spin like mad while empty, it has lost the "warm" cycle altogether, and now doesn't stop at all. Ever. "Delicate" causes it to vomit scalding hot water all over the dryer, and "off" causes it to begin filling all over again. If you leave it unattended, it will wash, (Very hot. Very, very, very hot)rinse, spin and repeat forever, until the hot water tank is totally empty. Kind of a roll the dice, take your chances kind of deal. So today ended with me wringing the water out of the cleanest dark load in the history of laundry, ever, because the spin cycle had gone AWOL.

So now we're combing Craigslist and the classifieds looking for a new, old washing machine.

Sigh.

Only 250 trick or treaters down from 320 last year.

Quiet year.

Owen made out like a bandit.

Has just informed me that it isn't bedtime in Vancouver yet.

I have no idea who would have shared this tidbit with my preschooler, but if I find out, heads will roll.

Owen began by dressing himself today.





Bob the Builder Y-fronts and a blue balaclava.

Then announced he was "ready to go."

We had a long talk about dress codes in public places.

You listen to the next door neighbour's Rob Zombie playing at top volume through the wall for a full ten minutes before realizing it isn't actually Cookie Monster singing on your preschooler's "25 Years of Sesame Street" cd.

In other news:

Today has sucked.

No, today has SUCKED. Huge.

Sweet Hubby is spending both days this weekend working at job # 2. It's a necessary evil, since my insurance company employs hundreds of people whose sole function appears to be doing nothing, and it's been over a month since I've had any kind of income.

What that means on the home front is that I have a bored, rangy three year old to contend with all by myself for two days of back to back cold, wind and rain, no money to spend on amusements, and a body that feels like one of the paper skeletons that Hurricane Owen has been bringing home from school all week. The kind with paper fasteners jammed through at every single joint, plus a couple on the breastbone and at the back of the neck for good measure.

Oh, and we both have colds, so visiting Gramma and Grampa is out, as Gramma the Senior (my folks are about 10 yrs older than Sweet Hubby's)is scheduled for a hip replacement on Wednesday, and the last thing a diabetic-on-dialysis-with-a-heart-condition-and-who-knows-what-else needs right before major surgery is a cold. My parents aren't actually PHYSICALLY a lot of help to speak of, because they can't keep up with Hurricane Owen either, but with three targets to choose from, I can usually at least manage to use the bathroom alone. Otherwise, they're moral support, and distract me as much as him, which has, on more than one instance, been enough to keep either me or my son from becoming some sort of gruesome statistic.

I have been alone for exactly 38 seconds since 6am this morning, and am quite set to strangle the next living thing that intrudes on my personal space, then stab it and jump on the bits for good measure, right before setting it on fire.

Poor Sweet Hubby.

He's working so hard, and has to come home to me.

Ok, yes, I know. I haven't died.

I've been off sick again since Sept 24 and have literally done NOTHING for a month. I've slept, and otherwise done the barest minimum to keep my house habitable and my family from starving. A good day would see me up and showered before Sweet Hubby comes home from work.

Except for the brief times when he is working at job # 2, Sweet Hubby has been doing most of the parenting.

Wednesday night was MY night though. Hauled my aching, miserable carcass to school to pick up boi, hoping for a quiet evening of macaroni and cheese, playing trains on the floor and maybe reading stories.

Silly Mommy.

Hurricane Owen's recalled Thomas the Tank Engine replacement trains finally arrived on Wednesday.

Picture Hurricane Owen, naked except for one sock, jumping on my new bed whilst playing the harmonica with a train clutched in each fist and several more bouncing on the bed with him, and you'll have the general idea.

Leaving the bar of dark chocolate with crushed coffee beans out where the preschooler could reach it.

Sweet Hubby is at work until 5.

It's going to be a long day.

What a weekend!

As you are aware, the band and I were in Maryland this past weekend, performing at the Maryland Renaissance Festival.  This is the parent festival of our beautiful, but now defunct little Ontario Renaissance Festival.  My bandmate, Les, put it very well.  Visiting Maryland isn't quite like going home.  Even though we've been several time now, the visits have been too few and too far between for quite that level of familiarity.  It's more like visiting your older, cooler sister. 

I first visited Maryland after our inaugural year in Ontario in 1996.  It was the first long car trip with the nice guy that I had met at our faire, (we've been married 9.5 years now) and my first experience with an established faire.  I was utterly charmed by the entire "village" and in complete awe of established acts like the Pyrates Royale, who I have been a big fan of ever since.  They all seemed so professional compared to us.  It was a little daunting at the time.  Now, 12 years later, it's still a thrill to be performing on the same stages as some of these acts, for the same fans, and, according the the feedback we got from both acts and fans alike, holding our own.  The same bands that both impressed and intimidated the heck out of me back then were nothing but friendly and welcoming, and it was a real pleasure to be visiting a big, well-established faire.  The fans were enthusiastic and generous as well, and CD sales weren't bad at all for an act no one had ever heard of.  Several fans followed us from show to show over both days, and most of the "resident" performers made a point of stopping to hear at least part of a set.  The kindness of the Hooligans, the Interpreters, Gypsophelia and of course, the Pyrates went a long way towards dispelling the away game jitters.  I hope to see everyone again next year!  Shows that far away aren't exactly big moneymakers for us, but this one is good for the soul.  It's nice to re-establish the connection to the larger Faire community, and an opportunity to meet so many truly amazing, like minded people.  Even the heat couldn't dampen the experience this weekend, although it certainly made a noble effort.  While the weekend ended far too quickly, it was a relief to be back home and in sweater weather on Monday night.  Of special note, my kind hosts for the weekend were my former boss and dear friend from our faire, and his lovely and knowledgeable wife.  It's been a couple of years since I've seen them, and the experience was like visiting my big brother who'd moved away.  I've missed having him at my table in the summer time, and very much enjoyed getting to know his wife a little better.  He'd become a part of our family up here, and I was much reassured to find that neither the fondness nor the familiarity had been lost to time and distance.  ( I admit, I was a touch worried) I've had the honour of making some wonderful friends in the Festival community, and we've become a lot like a big, if scattered, extended family over the years. 

The only part of the trip that I didn't thoroughly enjoy was the actual drive.  I took a different route coming and going, and regardless of which route I choose, the entire state of Pennsylvania seems to be consistently under construction, and has been since at least 1996.  At least I had company from another bandmate on the drive home.  Jen observed that the state tree of Pennsylvania appears to be the traffic cone.  We arrived exhausted but happy at about 7:30 Monday night. 

Now I'm off to unpack my suitcase.  After such a hot dusty weekend, it's a 50/50 chance I'll have to burn my costume.  Go Borax go!  I hope not, as I have another show on Saturday.  The last of the season, at Royal Medieval Faire in Waterloo Park West.  As much fun as it's been, I'm looking forward to a little down time as the Festival Season comes to a close for us. 

To everyone who's come out to a show, bought a CD, or supported us along the way, thank you!  It's been a privilege performing for you. 

Have a wonderful fall/winter season!

So, as you know, we're performing in Maryland this weekend. Yes Mom, I made it here safely.

The only bad thing I have to say about Maryland is that you have to drive through Pennsylvania to get here. Specifically through the mountains. I like mountains. The drive through the mountains is quite pretty when you're a passenger. It's a hell of a drive, however, when you're alone, and driving a little Korean car that clearly wasn't designed for mountain climbing. The trip worked out to about 11 hours with a brief stop in DC, and another half hour lost, in Southwest DC, trying to find my way back to the beltway. Eventually a gang of very nice Egyptian guys looked at my map and actually LED me back to the highway. I've heard horror stories about the people in this area, and while a little intimidating at first, were so kind, and generous with their time that I was blown away.

Still, by the time I got here I was exhausted. Like arms shaking, and not even sure I would be able to walk up the stairs to the bedroom my host has so graciously offered. All night long, every time I closed my eyes, all I could see was road.

Today, however, was worth the trip. After three visits here, I've finally gotten a chance to see the area surrounding the Renaissance Festival here, as opposed to just the road in between the house and the faire.

Annapolis has to be one of the loveliest cities ANYWHERE. Much of it was built in the late 1600's and many of the original buildings are still standing. There are narrow cobblestoned streets, and, in spite of being the state capitol, it really doesn't feel like a major urban center. You could point your camera in any direction, and the resulting shot would be postcard beautiful. Today the sun is out and the breeze is off the bay, so it was a perfect afternoon for a little exploring. Annapolis is officially "dog friendly" and there are water dishes and little doggy hitches all through the downtown. The other thing I've noticed is that the people here are as much a part of the local flavour as the buildings themselves, right down to the one eyed waitress at Chick and Ruth's "delly". This is a shabby orange plastic restaurant jammed into one of the narrow downtown storefronts. The place is not much to look at, but it's a local favourite with literally every food you can imagine on the menu somewhere. For the record, they make a "super colossal Rueben that's bigger than my head. No kidding. The high point of the day was the afternoon harbour cruise. It was a perfect day for sailing, and there's a very interesting history to the area, and the cruise on the bay offers a unique vantage point of the city and the Naval Academey, as well as the surrounding harbour. I'll post pictures when I get home. If you're a history buff, this town was meant for you. Bring walking shoes though, as parking is scarce, and the driving can be hairy. Plan to spend the afternoon if you can, and come hungry. From fine dining to dingy little dives serving fresh crab cake sandwiches, to fudge shops and a little stand that sells hot, fresh made doughnuts that you can dip in just about any substance you can imagine, you could spend a month just eating your way around the waterfront without repeating. I've already sampled crab dip TWICE and it's been two very different versions of the same dish. Must remember to track down a can of the Old Bay spice rub to bring home. It's too bad the sulfasalazine I'm on now makes me so nauseous that I can't eat much. I suppose, as weight loss programs go, it's a good one, but it seems like such a waste... Sulfasalazine is like having a terrible hangover all the time, without the fun of drinking first.  The afternoon wrapped, after browsing the downtown shops for a souvenir for Hurricane Owen, with frozen dutch ice (think fresh squeezed lemonade slushy) and a trip to the site to pick up camping passes for the rest of the group arriving tomorrow.

It's sunny and warm and the company is great. I'm staying with a dear friend that I've missed terribly since our faire closed, and his wonderfully outgoing and incredibly knowledgable wife. He works for the company that runs the themed harbour cruises, and she provides costumed, interactive historical performances, so I'm feeling incredibly spoiled having my own personal tour guides! 

I'm having a wonderful time, and we still have another day before the actual Festival, which will be something else entirely.  I've wanted to perform here since I first saw it in 1996, so I'm very excited, and a little nervous, as we are booked onto the same stages with some of our Rennfest HEROES.  It's an honour to be here and I'm psyched.

Now a little much needed down time, as the drive and the activity thus far have reminded me just how much stamina I've lost being sick the last couple of years. A little frustrating, because there's so much to see.

Overall, Having a wonderful time, wish you were here,

G O'Malley 

Ok, so summer has kind of gotten away from me this year.

It hasn't been too bad a summer, all things considered. I'm still getting sick a lot, more on that later.

We took Hurricane Owen Camping with my parents at Rock Point Provincial Park for a week in August. While the surf was too rough for him to swim in pretty much the whole week, he DID get to drive grandma's scooter, so it was all good. Good enough, even to make up for a week that was largely hot and rainy, except when it was cold and rainy. There was ONE perfect day, though, right in the middle. Owen still had a terrific time, and it really matters to me that he has some really great memories of special time spent with his grandparents.

Otherwise, it has mostly been a summer of trying to balance work and illness. About a month ago now, my specialist and I decided that I was *this* close to being in remission, and, as Sweet Hubby and I have been talking about wanting another baby before I'm 40, and I would need to be off all meds 6-8 months before we can even consider such things, that we would try going med free for a while, and see what happened.

Then he went on vacation.

I got two good weeks.

Now back on prednisone as of this morning to try to get bleeding and joints under control before I leave for the US on Wednesday.

We have our biggest show of the year next weekend at the Maryland Renaissance Festival- www.rennfest.com - and I'm the sickest I've been this year. Stairs are causing problems, which has me slightly dreading the hilly terrain at the faire, and back pain is making me a little nervous about making the 8-10 hour drive alone.

Nonetheless, I wouldn't miss this show for the world. As my bandmate said, visiting Maryland isn't QUITE like going home for us. It's the same company that we worked for here in Ontario for nine years, but on a MUCH larger scale. It's more like visiting your older, much cooler sister. There are dear friends that I can't wait to see, and the idea that my health is going to slow me down even SLIGHTLY is pissing me off greatly.

I still have one more ten hour workday to get through tomorrow, then should be on the road by 8am on Wed. I'm going to miss Sweet Hubby and Hurricane Owen, but schedules this year are a tad hectic.

We perform Saturday and Sunday, I drive the 8-10 hours back on Monday, then am back at my desk for a 10 hour workday on Tuesday. The following Saturday we're performing in Waterloo at Royal Medieval Faire in Waterloo Park West, then the weekend after that, Sweet Hubby is off to Chatham without me to perform at their "Heritage Days" festival.

Our next free weekend is the fourth weekend in October, so if you've been wondering why I never post anything here anymore, that's why. I will post a Maryland Redux when we get home.

Wish us luck!