If you asked my Memere what her favourite pie was, she'd undoubtedly say whatever flavor the one in front of her was. If there wasn't a slice to be had she would usually say strawberry pie, as a flavour is created between the fruit and the pastry that cannot be duplicated by any other means, and has a taste that easily becomes tantamount to addictive.
I have one of those pies in the oven right now as I type this up. It's the first pie I've made since I became a father. Damn, but I love pie. Baby Stella is sleeping in her swing-o-matic, and the dogs are also slumbering peacefully. Baking dishes are in the dishwasher, and I find a moment to actually write a few paragraphs on the ol' blog over a cold German beer.
So yeah, not even five months in and another one (baby) is on the way. Personally I would have thought the insanely bad choices of drinking and smoking myself into oblivion for four years before getting married would have slowed my little dudes down some. I must say this is a surprise, but a welcome one.
Anyway, with everyone asleep, I think I'll go watch Star Wars. :-)
Simply put, life is good.
Real good.
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Friday, May 2, 2008
All the news that is the news.
Nothing to get too worked up about really, but a few updates....
- Moving tomorrow (again)
- I completely revamped my Flickr account (again)
- Wife is pregnant (also again)
Saturday, April 5, 2008
OMGWTFBBQ!!1!
And then when I have something I'd like to post, it always seems like I have to get ready for work.
Perhaps later.
Perhaps later.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
The story so far....
So this is where I am, and this is where I shall stay. I will no be moved.
Actually I will be moved - quite literally. Just yesterday, I was offered my own Ontarian store to sell diamonds from, which I accepted in a heartbeat. Not only does this mean a significant raise, full benefits, and distance put between my family and this dead-end town, but also "the company" will be covering all moving expenses, AND ALSO I got a really neat travel mug.
It keeps hot drinks hot and cold drinks cold.
I couldn't be happier.
Actually I will be moved - quite literally. Just yesterday, I was offered my own Ontarian store to sell diamonds from, which I accepted in a heartbeat. Not only does this mean a significant raise, full benefits, and distance put between my family and this dead-end town, but also "the company" will be covering all moving expenses, AND ALSO I got a really neat travel mug.
It keeps hot drinks hot and cold drinks cold.
I couldn't be happier.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Arms up.
Happy Valentine's Day from baby Chicken!
In other news, I'm getting bored of posting under this false name. I beginning to think it's time I migrate back to my old domain. I miss who I used to be... or certain parts of who that was anyway. Everybody that happens by here knows the real deal of who I am and/or was. What's your opinion?
Monday, February 11, 2008
Eleven things I want. Right now.
Recent conversations have inspired me to contemplate who I really am right now in this instance of my life - to attempt to examine and define myself once again as we all should do from time to time. With a six week old baby girl now in my arms, it goes without saying that I'm not the same man I was 2 months ago, five years ago, or certainly a decade past.
It all really makes me wonder where I'll be a decade from here, and all things considered, I'd rather not let that future depend entirely on chance and unforeseen circumstance. If ever there was a time for planning and action toward specific goals, it's certainly this very moment.
For all of 2008 I've essentially been on autopilot. Feed the baby, burp the baby, change the baby, sell some diamonds, do whatever it takes to ease the woes of my wife, and eat where possible. Not exactly a Jedi lifestyle, but not really not Jedi either.
That said, my first and foremost goal is to be more Jedi-like. This is something that carries over from the spring of 2002 when I became a "born again Jedi" just before the release of Episode II. That mind-set tapered off slowly during the following five years and it's high time I began focusing some energies on my Jedi training once again. Now, don't everybody jump to the conclusion that this is as hokey and geeky as it sounds. My idea of Jedi training is essentially a meditation on getting what you give, learning from life, and allowing patience and logic to prevail over reckless emotion. No lifting rocks with my mind involved, however it'll be wicked-cool when I finally do get that to work.
Secondively, I want to start focusing on art again. Painting, sculpting, sketching, writing... anything. Blogging doesn't count. I have so much pent up creativity in me that I've become a slob. If you could crawl inside my head, that statement would actually make sense.
Thirdively, I want to be less of a slob. I used to be the one who went to my mothers house and organized the slightly skewed magazines on her coffee table. Now I don't even use a coaster. I want to become the person who doesn't relax until my surroundings are in an organized state once again. I used to be a librarian, dammit - time I started acting accordingly.
Fourthatively, I want to make pastries. I don't need to make a pie or a dozen tarts a day like I used to, but once a week would be nice. Everybody likes pie, myself doubly so.
Fifthly, I want to eat (slightly) healthier than I do currently. Not anywhere near as healthy as my wife but perhaps I'll stop eating chocolate for breakfast.
Number Six. I want to become as adept at all my instruments as I ever was and improve upon that standard. Banjo, bagpipe, and guitar. Should a tuba come my way I'll get back to where I was with that too.
Seventhly, I want money. Not the make it faster than you can spend it money but the sort of income and financial skills to have security, shelter, food, and dentists for my family.
Octively, I want to know what I want. I know that's a little deep but it's the truth. I'm so detached from who I once was that I really would like to wake up one day and just know my place in the universe without question.
Ninethly, I want a replica costume of Princess Leia's garb in Jabba's palace. Never mind why.
Tenthly, I want my family to be healthy and happy - always. This should really be the number two goal of the list, as it's certainly that important to me. This includes myself also, meaning I'm going to finally suck it up and go get a physical for the first time in ten years and also see a dentist. (shudder).
And finally for goal number eleven, I shall create a robot to change diapers because that's a job I can do without and that needs to be done even as I type this. I swear she's been pooping for the past twenty minutes - I'm really not looking forward to this. Babies are smelly. Anyway, I shall call the robot Gort, simply because I'm still a big geek like that.
And that's the things I want. Hear that universe? Make it happen!
It all really makes me wonder where I'll be a decade from here, and all things considered, I'd rather not let that future depend entirely on chance and unforeseen circumstance. If ever there was a time for planning and action toward specific goals, it's certainly this very moment.
For all of 2008 I've essentially been on autopilot. Feed the baby, burp the baby, change the baby, sell some diamonds, do whatever it takes to ease the woes of my wife, and eat where possible. Not exactly a Jedi lifestyle, but not really not Jedi either.
That said, my first and foremost goal is to be more Jedi-like. This is something that carries over from the spring of 2002 when I became a "born again Jedi" just before the release of Episode II. That mind-set tapered off slowly during the following five years and it's high time I began focusing some energies on my Jedi training once again. Now, don't everybody jump to the conclusion that this is as hokey and geeky as it sounds. My idea of Jedi training is essentially a meditation on getting what you give, learning from life, and allowing patience and logic to prevail over reckless emotion. No lifting rocks with my mind involved, however it'll be wicked-cool when I finally do get that to work.
Secondively, I want to start focusing on art again. Painting, sculpting, sketching, writing... anything. Blogging doesn't count. I have so much pent up creativity in me that I've become a slob. If you could crawl inside my head, that statement would actually make sense.
Thirdively, I want to be less of a slob. I used to be the one who went to my mothers house and organized the slightly skewed magazines on her coffee table. Now I don't even use a coaster. I want to become the person who doesn't relax until my surroundings are in an organized state once again. I used to be a librarian, dammit - time I started acting accordingly.
Fourthatively, I want to make pastries. I don't need to make a pie or a dozen tarts a day like I used to, but once a week would be nice. Everybody likes pie, myself doubly so.
Fifthly, I want to eat (slightly) healthier than I do currently. Not anywhere near as healthy as my wife but perhaps I'll stop eating chocolate for breakfast.
Number Six. I want to become as adept at all my instruments as I ever was and improve upon that standard. Banjo, bagpipe, and guitar. Should a tuba come my way I'll get back to where I was with that too.
Seventhly, I want money. Not the make it faster than you can spend it money but the sort of income and financial skills to have security, shelter, food, and dentists for my family.
Octively, I want to know what I want. I know that's a little deep but it's the truth. I'm so detached from who I once was that I really would like to wake up one day and just know my place in the universe without question.
Ninethly, I want a replica costume of Princess Leia's garb in Jabba's palace. Never mind why.
Tenthly, I want my family to be healthy and happy - always. This should really be the number two goal of the list, as it's certainly that important to me. This includes myself also, meaning I'm going to finally suck it up and go get a physical for the first time in ten years and also see a dentist. (shudder).
And finally for goal number eleven, I shall create a robot to change diapers because that's a job I can do without and that needs to be done even as I type this. I swear she's been pooping for the past twenty minutes - I'm really not looking forward to this. Babies are smelly. Anyway, I shall call the robot Gort, simply because I'm still a big geek like that.
And that's the things I want. Hear that universe? Make it happen!
Friday, February 8, 2008
Allow me to think this out loud(ish)
I was watching Return of the Jedi until just a moment ago. Everybody gasp in surprise and amazement. It's the enhanced version of the disk though, and just at the part with the new-fangled horrible-pop Jabba's palace scene. So I figured I'd take the opportunity to write out some thoughts and not suffer through the travesty that has become of the Max Rebo band. They were far better off playing disco-jazz-funk-infusion. What were you thinking George?
Anyway, my real dilemma revolves around my current housing situation. My boss recently offered to rent a house to my family for a very generous price. Should we accept the offer, we'd be whisked away from my in-laws basement and one upstairs bedroom where we live now and moved halfway across town into a "fixer-upper". Now, I use the term "fixer-upper" loosely - my first impression was more like "tear-it-down-and-build-a-new-one-er".
We save approximately a thousand a month by staying where we are, but sacrifice independence and some extent of privacy. Also to consider, is that renting from my boss would create a certain job security, but on the other hand renting from my boss might also incur many unforeseen stresses in the workplace. I think my gut is telling me to wait for something a little better, with a completely fenced backyard for the puppies and that doesn't require a platoon of molly-maids to make it habitable.
More importantly than any of this however, is that the dreadful scene I spoke of earlier is now over and I can now go watch Luke defeat the rancor. Go Jedi!
Anyway, my real dilemma revolves around my current housing situation. My boss recently offered to rent a house to my family for a very generous price. Should we accept the offer, we'd be whisked away from my in-laws basement and one upstairs bedroom where we live now and moved halfway across town into a "fixer-upper". Now, I use the term "fixer-upper" loosely - my first impression was more like "tear-it-down-and-build-a-new-one-er".
We save approximately a thousand a month by staying where we are, but sacrifice independence and some extent of privacy. Also to consider, is that renting from my boss would create a certain job security, but on the other hand renting from my boss might also incur many unforeseen stresses in the workplace. I think my gut is telling me to wait for something a little better, with a completely fenced backyard for the puppies and that doesn't require a platoon of molly-maids to make it habitable.
More importantly than any of this however, is that the dreadful scene I spoke of earlier is now over and I can now go watch Luke defeat the rancor. Go Jedi!
Friday, January 25, 2008
Re: The Boob 2ube
There seems too be far less moments during the day where I can actually sit down and write a blog post and not have it feel like I'm sacrificing time I could be using to have a shower or eat some food that doesn't need to be prepared one handed. My days are pretty much broken up into working, eating, hygiene, sleeping, and of course snuggling with baby Stella (and changing her diapers, spit-uped-on clothes, and making her bottles to produce more spit-up and diaper fodder. Rinse. Repeat.)
One thing I will say about it all is I've become much better acquanted with an old friend called television. I haven't watched it much in the past ten years and I must say things have changed. For example, what ever happened to the good old Iron Chef with it's poorly dubbed commentators and obscure, scary looking secret ingredients. I just walked away from the TV this evening after discovering the secret ingredient on the American Iron Chef was 'puff pastry'. I kid you not. I've got to say I'm a little disgusted with that. In my humble opinion, Iron Chef secret ingredients should either have 4 or more tentacles and contain syllables that can't be properly pronounced using English phonetics. Puff pastry doesn't cut it.
And one more thing... Who the Hell decided Drew Carey could ever begin to replace Bob Barker on the Price is Right?
Anyway, I'm done this TV rant about three thoughts ago. Now for the moment you've all been waiting for... A NEW BABY PICTURE!
One thing I will say about it all is I've become much better acquanted with an old friend called television. I haven't watched it much in the past ten years and I must say things have changed. For example, what ever happened to the good old Iron Chef with it's poorly dubbed commentators and obscure, scary looking secret ingredients. I just walked away from the TV this evening after discovering the secret ingredient on the American Iron Chef was 'puff pastry'. I kid you not. I've got to say I'm a little disgusted with that. In my humble opinion, Iron Chef secret ingredients should either have 4 or more tentacles and contain syllables that can't be properly pronounced using English phonetics. Puff pastry doesn't cut it.
And one more thing... Who the Hell decided Drew Carey could ever begin to replace Bob Barker on the Price is Right?
Anyway, I'm done this TV rant about three thoughts ago. Now for the moment you've all been waiting for... A NEW BABY PICTURE!
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
When good dares go bad.
So I got myself involved in this little game yesterday hosted by Suzi of "I'll Tell you What it Shwas" fame. It's some crazy 'dares to be performed at work' ordeal that she decided to share with the world at large, and offered a small reward for participating in it. I, being in the world at large, and always in need of a small reward decided to partake in the fun-ness that is "Dumb Dares".
Card 14, dare #1 of the game had the following challenge for me: "Pretend to have a long phone conversation with someone in a foreign language."
I was all set to make a big production of it - this was going to be a fun bit of five minutes on a slow Wednesday afternoon. The folks I work with, it would seem, just aren't big enough geeks to appreciate just how big a geek I really am.
At around 3:00 this afternoon, with everyone on staff present, I made a phone call to a six digit number and proceeded to speak Greedo's lines from the infamous Han & Greedo scene, which took place in the Mos Eisly Cantina in Star Wars IV - A New Hope. I finished my call abruptly (as the scene ends) with a grin of geekish pride, hung up the phone and quitely muttered, "boring conversation anyway". I really felt I had outdone myself.
They all thought I was ordering Chinese for supper.
So I ask... Is it that I'm too much of a geek or that those I work with aren't geeky enough?
Furthermore, should I train them in the ways of The Force?
Card 14, dare #1 of the game had the following challenge for me: "Pretend to have a long phone conversation with someone in a foreign language."
I was all set to make a big production of it - this was going to be a fun bit of five minutes on a slow Wednesday afternoon. The folks I work with, it would seem, just aren't big enough geeks to appreciate just how big a geek I really am.
At around 3:00 this afternoon, with everyone on staff present, I made a phone call to a six digit number and proceeded to speak Greedo's lines from the infamous Han & Greedo scene, which took place in the Mos Eisly Cantina in Star Wars IV - A New Hope. I finished my call abruptly (as the scene ends) with a grin of geekish pride, hung up the phone and quitely muttered, "boring conversation anyway". I really felt I had outdone myself.
They all thought I was ordering Chinese for supper.
So I ask... Is it that I'm too much of a geek or that those I work with aren't geeky enough?
Furthermore, should I train them in the ways of The Force?
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
Chicken, chips, dip, and a can of beer. (and a baby)
German beer! Lowenbrau, to be precise. Tasty stuff.
Today marks my first cold med-free day in a week, and I decided to celebrate with an import and some fatty foods to build up what I lost over the past few sniffly, coughing, fever-filled, miserable days. Stupid getting sick. I've missed my parenting time. Not that I've been skipping on my share of the duties, but I've been doing it through all the coughing, sneezing and blowing of nose (and washing of hands - every time). I dunno... it just sort of took some of the fun out of it.
Not now though. :-)
I'm currently typing this with my daughter curled up on my lap, with a whimsical look on her face (undoubtedly having some sort of movement). It's midnight, I just closed at the mall tonight, and I work again at 9:00 in the morning.
Ask me if I care one bit that I'm about to change a stinky diaper and make 2 oz of formula before putting her down for the night....
(I don't)
Today marks my first cold med-free day in a week, and I decided to celebrate with an import and some fatty foods to build up what I lost over the past few sniffly, coughing, fever-filled, miserable days. Stupid getting sick. I've missed my parenting time. Not that I've been skipping on my share of the duties, but I've been doing it through all the coughing, sneezing and blowing of nose (and washing of hands - every time). I dunno... it just sort of took some of the fun out of it.
Not now though. :-)
I'm currently typing this with my daughter curled up on my lap, with a whimsical look on her face (undoubtedly having some sort of movement). It's midnight, I just closed at the mall tonight, and I work again at 9:00 in the morning.
Ask me if I care one bit that I'm about to change a stinky diaper and make 2 oz of formula before putting her down for the night....
(I don't)
Thursday, January 10, 2008
blargh
They say gents, in general, handle having a cold much worse than ladies do. In the case of my wife and I this is absolutely true.
I'm pushing a fever of 38.5 Celsius when not hopped up on Tylenol cold, and it would seem breaking said fever is the only things these damn drugs will do for me. My throat hurts, I feel I haven't slept in a week, my head is exploding, I've got chills, and to make matters worse, I'm evidently a complainer.
A very big complainer.
I'm pushing a fever of 38.5 Celsius when not hopped up on Tylenol cold, and it would seem breaking said fever is the only things these damn drugs will do for me. My throat hurts, I feel I haven't slept in a week, my head is exploding, I've got chills, and to make matters worse, I'm evidently a complainer.
A very big complainer.
Monday, January 7, 2008
Saturday, January 5, 2008
On Fatherhood
I probably don't have much time to write this, as it's my shift with the baby and though she's dozing quietly at the moment, it's sure not to last very long - especially considering that I have a post in mind to write. But whatever.
Even if that's not the case though, and she continues to slumber, I'd much rather she were doing so in my arms. I love my baby girl more than anyone could have predicted. She's better than a Lego/Star Wars game designed for the original NES that comes in a package with a coupon on the back for a free can of German beer to drink while playing it.
I love her that much. Maybe even more. That's sort of what I wanted to post about. Over the past 8 months I've had so many people exclaim how this would change my life, and I always took that to mean "more work", "less sleep", and "poopy diapers". How wrong was I? There are those things, sure, but more than that there's this new passion within me that makes me not care about the fatigue or the smell.
I don't even really care that I'm typing one handed currently (frustratingly slow), as I'm cuddling my baby in my other arm. Where my life-stylephilosophy used to be "What can I do for myself without putting others out?" it's swiftly become "what can I do for my daughter? - and nobody better get in my way."
Only now do I realize this is what people were talking about. It's going to be a great 20 or so years, I'd imagine.
Even if that's not the case though, and she continues to slumber, I'd much rather she were doing so in my arms. I love my baby girl more than anyone could have predicted. She's better than a Lego/Star Wars game designed for the original NES that comes in a package with a coupon on the back for a free can of German beer to drink while playing it.
I love her that much. Maybe even more. That's sort of what I wanted to post about. Over the past 8 months I've had so many people exclaim how this would change my life, and I always took that to mean "more work", "less sleep", and "poopy diapers". How wrong was I? There are those things, sure, but more than that there's this new passion within me that makes me not care about the fatigue or the smell.
I don't even really care that I'm typing one handed currently (frustratingly slow), as I'm cuddling my baby in my other arm. Where my life-stylephilosophy used to be "What can I do for myself without putting others out?" it's swiftly become "what can I do for my daughter? - and nobody better get in my way."
Only now do I realize this is what people were talking about. It's going to be a great 20 or so years, I'd imagine.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Happiest New Years Ever
No amount of baby books, meditating with the force, or hanging around my sister's kids could have prepared me psychologically for the following moment:
She's really truly here. After 4 hours of intense labour she came out into this world the good ol' fashioned "through mommy's bits" way. It was 8:50 PM on New Years Eve when it all happened. My little girl shares a birthday with Jacques Cartier - one of my favourite discoverers. :-)
Where I feared I might be squeamish, I was actually quite amazed at the beauty of the whole process. I watched everything - beginning to end. I wasn't able to catch her, as there was a risk of all sorts of things since she was 4 weeks early. Nevertheless I did "cut the cord" of a healthy, strong, 6 pound, 5 ounce baby.
Cutest. Baby. Ever.
She's really truly here. After 4 hours of intense labour she came out into this world the good ol' fashioned "through mommy's bits" way. It was 8:50 PM on New Years Eve when it all happened. My little girl shares a birthday with Jacques Cartier - one of my favourite discoverers. :-)
Where I feared I might be squeamish, I was actually quite amazed at the beauty of the whole process. I watched everything - beginning to end. I wasn't able to catch her, as there was a risk of all sorts of things since she was 4 weeks early. Nevertheless I did "cut the cord" of a healthy, strong, 6 pound, 5 ounce baby.
Cutest. Baby. Ever.
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