Any Gardeners Out There?

I've managed to keep all my flowers and herbs alive.

This might be a good thing if I knew what to do with them all.

It might even be a better thing if I knew what they all were. I did put the tags in the pot, but some seem to have mysteriously disappeared. I'm going to post some photos (apparently all loaded sideways) and then ask you, what do you do with the following? Do you have any recipes, suggestions, advice?

Hmmmm... Why do some photos load sideways when they're straight in iPhoto? Okay, just crank your head around.

1. Cilantro. (It's been hacked back twice and is still going strong.)

2. Peppermint.

3. Spearmint.

4. Bay leaves.

5. Greek oregano -- see pic below. (Smothered by the mints)


6. Rosemary. (This is the only herb I've used regularly in my cooking.)

7. Thyme.

8. Sage -- see pic below.



9. ??? What the heck is this anyway? (It's behind the sage in the photo. It's green with little purple-ish marks in the middle.)

I also have a tomato plant that's doing nothing. Lots of flowers keep blooming, but then they just shrivel up and fall off.

This gardening gig is more stressful than I imagined!

Sweet!

Last week I spent the days waiting longingly by the window for the delivery man (or woman). But the proverbial pot never boiled. So of course on Monday, the day I was out of the house all day, the package arrived.

Are you ready?

Here it is:



On the inside, my personalized card:



And inside the box, you say? Well, here you go:



Oh. You want to know what's in the red bag. Okay, I guess you've been patient:



Yes. That's right. I received a giant box-o-chocolate in the mail. And here's why.

Several weeks ago, I was approached by a marketing company called Matchstick to see if I was interested in being part of a marketing program for Dove Chocolate involving bloggers in Vancouver, Montreal and Toronto. Now, I don't know how the blogging gods knew to pick me, but it is absolutely, positively, the best match to be made. Of all the offers I could have received, this one was a match made in chocolate heaven.

You see, I love chocolate. I eat it every day. If we go out for dinner, I always order a dessert with chocolate in it. Well, at least 95% of the time. It can be hard to turn down a good creme brulee. (Can someone tell me where I find the French accent keys on the keyboard?)

Lest you think I am a chocolate snob, I do eat regular chocolate bars from the grocery counter line. But I love good chocolate. I drool for good chocolate. I dream of good chocolate. David will attest to my addiction. He laughed when I told him about my first product/blog match up.

So here's the full pile of stuff:



There's enough for me to eat, and lots for me to share.

Okay, some for me to share.

Alright, if you come and arm wrestle me, I might let you have one square.

Really folks, it's all good. There's milk chocolate, dark chocolate, and dusk (mix of milk and dark). I've tried them all. Multiple times. Okay, is an orange, two lattes and 7 squares of chocolate a balanced breakfast? Close enough. I'll pop a vitamin pill later. The chocolate is creamy, dense, melt in your mouth.

It's pretty darn good stuff. And I should know.

And by the way, the little tablets of chocolate have little pieces of advice written on the inside of the foil. Right now I'm staring at:

• Ride shotgun.
• Read a trashy novel.
• Give sincere compliments.
• Use a good moisturizer.

I have some chocolate to give to my friends and the mommies I see on a weekly basis. However, I received it because of my blog. Sooooooooooo, if you are interested in trying it out, write a note in my comments with your own advice to put in the foil wrapper, and I'll send you a sample.

Once you've tried it, you can use the survey below if you're into doing that kind of thing.

http://www.surveymonkey.com/s.aspx?sm=JbdWi0CPZKWwex3IJ953iA_3d_3d

Now I'm off to do some more quality control testing on my samples.

It's Here, It's Here!

Hello Bloggy World,

I have been running non-stop since Friday afternoon, and haven't had a chance to read blogs, comment on blogs, write a post on my blog, or catch up on my celebrity gossip. Just now got in from a double-header of Ulty with NO WOMEN SUBS. Yikes. I am hobbling.

However, I did want to let you know that the surprise package arrived today while I was out with the kiddos.

And it was as good as I thought it would be! So more news on that front tomorrow.

How Many More Hours Left in This Day?

This morning Jake was playing with one of my celedon table lamps lovingly brought back from Thailand 7 years ago. I was in bed trying to catch a few extra minutes of shut eye when I heard an enormous crash followed by the wailing cries of Destructo Boy.

David rushed in from the kitchen, I from the bedroom, to find a screaming baby and the lamp pulled down on top of him.

Thankfully, Jake's head broke the lamp's fall and it is still in one piece.

Whew. And here I was worried I'd have to go back to Thailand to get another one.

The Waiting Game

I've been waiting for a special parcel to arrive in the mail any day now.

I can't tell you what it is just yet, but I can tell you it's been highly anticipated. Today, as I was sitting at the kitchen counter doing my best to ignore my kids for 10 minutes (union coffee break time), I saw the Purolator Courier van pull up outside the house.

"This is it!" I sang. "It's here!"

Even Nate stopped nagging at me long enough to see I was excited.

We ran to the front door. I booted Chilco out of the way and swung the door wide with a huge cackle of glee. (I think I might have startled the delivery guy who hadn't even rung the doorbell yet.)

But what he held in his hand was way to small to be my package. And it was addressed to David. Apparently the new Xbox (to replace the fried one) had arrived.

Damn. So now I sit and wait some more.

Anyone want to guess what I am waiting for?

Ultimate Tennis

Tonight, I was out playing Ultimate Frisbee with David. Ultimate is (can be) an intense workout that involves two back to back games (about 3 hours) of sprinting, catching and throwing a disc. I introduced David to the sport when we met in 2003. That summer I was playing on three teams, so I was out three nights a week, and often subbing on a fourth. I was pretty fit. I was pretty proud of myself.

Tonight, we only had a single header. And, suffering either from this family cold, or seasonal allergies, I just had no energy to speak of. It was hard to get any speed, any enthusiasm. For the first time in my life, I felt old. Like, really old. Like, "look at all the other women around here, I think there may only be one other person in her early 30s and I'm the only one who's sneaking up on 37 (37 ohmigod where did that number come from!) and why can't I get these legs moving and when will this point be over and I bet no one else out here has two kids and boy do I feel old."

I think I may give Ulty up completely in favour of tennis.

Speaking of which, did I tell you I joined a tennis club? Okay, let's not put the cart before the horse. There are tennis clubs, and then there is this tennis club. The Vancouver Lawn and Tennis Club costs a million dollars to join and has a five hundred year waiting list and everyone there speaks with a British accent and wears all whites with no baby food smeared on them.

The tennis club I joined has about 250 members of whom 240 are over the age of 40. If you want to get even more technical, 200 of the members are firmly between 60 - 80.

Age alone makes me somewhat of a star. It feels really good to run around the ball, smash it at the feet a septuagenarian awaiting his second knee reconstruction and say, "Hah! Take that old man!"

(I won't tell you how he calmly sticks his racket out at the last moment and returns the ball deep to the doubles court baseline corner because that doesn't make me look as good.)

Heck, I can usually get at least the same number of games off these people as I lose. And I'm not nearly as winded as when I play Ulty.

The best part? I have another 33 years before I'm a septuagenarian too. Lots of time to improve my game.

You Know Your Family Has a Cold When...

1. You wish you owned stock in Kleenex.
2. You play blow, blow, wipe instead of duck, duck, goose.
3. You could all star as Rudolph in a Christmas play.
4. Even with undivided parental time, your son would rather flake out in front of the TV all day.
   
5. Sleeves need to be changed every few hours.
6. Apple juice and ice cream makes the world just a little better.
   
7. Naps for your 3.5 year old run over 2 hours.
   
8. The dog realizes that he is not being hugged, but rather used as temporary Kleenex.
   

Happy Father's Day!

It's a Dog's Life

Dear Readers,

My name is Chilco. I am a 5 year old Wheaten Terrier. I'm sneaking some time today to ask for your help. Let me tell you my story.

Once upon a time, I was the much-loved first-born in this household. My owners had only been together for three months when they found me, well, my mom found me, through a breeder. Although people thought they were crazy to get me so early in their relationship, they never regretted bringing me out to Vancouver from Winnipeg.

I was in love. We went for walks to the dog beach and I chased every leaf and shadow on the way (when my puppy legs tired, mom would carry me home). I learned how to swim in the waves, how to stand up to those goofy Labs and weighty Boxers. I had toys; I had food and water; I was brushed daily.

I was loved.

My idyllic life continued for another year until February 8, 2005. On that day, a hairless, squawking bundle arrived. To be fair, he didn't cry too much and he didn't interfere with my walks. Truthfully, we went on more walks that year that mom decided to spend 12 months bonding with me. I think she was trying to make up for bringing home the competition, but I forgave her. I'm generous like that.

So life wasn't too bad. Until he began to walk. And then run.

There came a day when I discovered that I couldn't outrun my fur-challenged brother, nor could I jump on the couch to escape him. And about this time, I couldn't help but notice that my brushes were becoming less frequent, not to mention my walks. Sometimes a meal would be forgotten. My toys sat idly by in their basket unless I brought them out for a half-hearted wrestle.

Just when I thought things had reached an all time low, the second hairless bundle arrived. I was not amused. I had been patient. I had put up with the hair pulling and the endless games of tag where I was always "it".

Now, the only walks I get are hired out to some strangers who come by three times a week. The second "bundle of joy" is always tipping my water dish and eating my food, so my dishes are continually put away. I get brushed once every three months when I get dragged to the house of torture groomers. I am subjected to daily "choke holds" which are passed off as doggy hugs.

So I'm here to talk to you. To let you know that I am available for adoption by a loving family. My breath is a little stinky (the vet told my mom to brush my teeth daily, but of course that doesn't get done either), but I love to give licks. I have a basket of toys and a doggy bed, and some infrequently used dog dishes to bring too.

I like long walks on the beach at sunset, and I'm not picky about colour of my leash. I have lots of love to give. Won't you please help me?

Sincerely,
Chilco

PS. You can email me at ChilcoTheDog@gmail.com



Update --

Mom here. I see Chilco got onto the computer this morning when my back was turned. Let me assure you that he is not available for adoption... just yet. We are working on getting him more food, walks and playtime. And he is not as hard done by as he might have you believe. Yesterday, I caught him lounging on the master bed, four paws up in the air. This was after feasting on a bone from the butcher.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go have a word with Chilco about unauthorized computer usage.

Rainy Days and Mondays Always Get Me Down

Ugh.

Yesterday was one of those days. Grey and rainy from the get go. It did however, bring about two revelations for me:

1. I am incredibly thankful that we got a dog walking service 2-3 times a week once Jake was born. They take the dogs in small packs on trails for a minimum of 1.5 hours. Frankly, given the amount of rain that we've had in the last two years, I can't even begin to imagine packing up both kids in the pouring rain every day to walk the dog.

2. For my next career I would like to be a weatherman, weatherperson, whatever. Think about it. You can completely screw up your one responsibility, the forecast, on a regular basis and no one cares. You can call for sun (ie this past Sunday so I could play tennis) and it rains instead. You can have major weather systems "sneak up" on you, apparently behind your back, and surprise the lower mainland. You can have unseasonably cold temperatures for the month of June, and no one can do anything about it.

Come to think of it, I've never heard of a weatherperson being fired for incompetence or a series of bad forecasts for two weeks running. Damn this job sounds good. So that's it. I'm going to weather school (what's there to learn? I think I have the vocab downpat: rain, sleet, hail, snow, clouds, gloom, doom) and pitching myself to the local radio and TV stations.

Tuesday's forecast: Sunny and warm with a high near 28 degrees Celsius.

Oh sh*t. Look at that. It's raining. Well, there's always tomorrow.

Too Much of a Good Thing?

Last night I went to see Sex and the City with one of my good friends. Yes, I know you all saw it last weekend, but we were both away on holidays when it came out, and, shockingly enough, neither one of our husbands were dying to go see it with us. So we took each other out.

I have to say, I was one of those women who was glued to the TV every Friday night when the latest installment of SATC came on. It was a great fantasy world to escape to. The clothes, the glamour, the scandal, and of course the overriding concept that friendship can see you through anything. I even own all the seasons on DVD (a Christmas gift from David), and I used to watch all the time.

Initially, I was excited about the prospect of a movie, especially three years ago when the series ended. But time moved on and the series seemed to fade a little into the recesses of my mind.

Then, lo and behold the mythical movie became a not-so-distant reality. And I found myself feeling somewhat blase. Interested, but not excited. After all, the series had wrapped fairly completely, albeit predictably.

What was once a nice memory, started to become unravelled. I heard about all of the bad blood between Sarah Jessica Parker and Kim Cattrall. How could the two closest friends of SATC not like to speak in real life? Okay, I know that characters are not representative of real life, but I didn't want the illusion spoiled.

So there we were in the theatre last night, and I had mixed feelings even before the movie began. I found it to be a light, predictable comedy, but bittersweet in its effect on me. On the big screen, you can see every line, wrinkle, sag of these women. Don't get me wrong. They look great for their ages (in their 40s and 50s), but it only succeeded in making me feel old. Before you get on your soapbox, I definitely think that Hollywood does the worst disservice to women in failing to focus on interesting stories for women past the age of 30, and failing to put women over 35 into significant roles. However, somehow, the series that seemed so relevant to me in my late 20s and early 30s, seemed tired and, well, old.

If you'd have asked me before seeing it, I would definitely have said, YES, make a movie. I want to see more. Now, I'm not so sure. I think that it might have been better to keep the series in the past. To keep my memories intact.

Did you see the movie? What did you think?

Friday's Photo or is it Photo Friday?

Whatever. I'm behind this week. (I could type that every week.)

So here's a cheap post for you. Here's the boys' first bath together.

Nate was teaching Jake the finer art of splashing water all over the place so it gets in your eyes and you cry and there's water dripping over the tub onto the floor and isn't that funny so you keep doing it until there's a mini lake on the bathroom tiles and the bathmat is soaked and you're laughing hysterically while mom's muttering something not meant for kids' ears under her breath.

Monkey see...

Monkey do...

Nope... I'm no instigator.

Tummy Time

While our trip to the Okanagan was about drinking lots of wine reconnecting with family and enjoying the warm summer weather, it was, for the boys, all about the eats.

Every year, we stay in a motel in Summerland which, for lack of a better description, is, well, a motel. It's right on the highway, but fairly centrally located. It has a pool and a huge grassy lawn with a BBQ, tons of tables and lawn furniture, and a mini gazebo for super sunny days. The owners are very friendly and remember us by name. More importantly, they let us bring our dog.

We've had some fabulous bottles of wine and meals at this motel. We shop at a local grocery store or produce stand, buy some steaks, fish, sausages, etc and eat well thanks to the men on the BBQ. I forgot to take photos most nights, but here is a sampling of what was on offer:

Here's everyone relaxing in the late afternoon. It's a rare shot with me in it. (Thanks hon.)

Grilled smokies... our least inventive meal, but you take what you can get on this blog. I'm no Pioneer Woman.

Roasted veggies. The asparagus are hiding under the peppers, but see comment above re my culinary shots.

For the boys, however, it was a different story. Here's Nate eating an ice cream sundae at Quail's Gate:


And here's Nate eating an ice cream at the beach:


I'd have more photos of him eating Grandma Claudia's famous cookies, but he finished off the double chocolate ones, so I haven't been speaking to him for a few days.

Jake was all about the tummy time too. He ate a spoon (okay, not so unusual):


my car keys:


beach sand:


and he finished off with this:



Now I'm hungry. Time for a midnight snack before bed! Toodles folks.

Guilty Secrets

I have some guilty secrets. But I'm not going to reveal most of them to you. After all, my family reads this blog.

What I will tell you is that this past week, I spent my time indulging in a couple vices: liquor and gambling.

Is wine considered liquor?

Anyway, I spent my time in the Okanagan valley which is considered the premier wine-growing region for Canada. Most white and red grapes can be grown there and, unfortunately, many fruit farms are being ripped out for the promise and heartbreak of the grapevine.

This year's promise.

Over the years, David and I have acquired several favourite wineries which we faithfully visit every year. Then we try a few new wineries too... to mix it up, so to speak.

See Ya Later Ranch winery. A new one for us.



Dirty Laundry Winery. Another new one. Do you see the naked women?

This year's trip was especially good as my parents flew out to my inlaw's house in Calgary, and they all trekked over the mountains to join us. We were happy to see all the grandparents at one go. Free babysitting. Times four.

As usual, David and I bought more wine than anticipated. Coupled with the wine our inlaws brought from Alberta via our special order, (wine's cheaper there and there are fewer taxes, so you can save $2-25 per bottle), we had quite a few bottles to bring back. Good thing we have a station wagon/SUV crossover. We somehow managed to cram the boxes in amongst the luggage, cooler (for baby bottles, food, etc), pack-and-play, diaper bag, computer bags, camera bag, potty, dog and baby/booster seats.

Yeesh.

Now we're faced with trying to find space for the wine. If you want to come over for a glass or two, I'll send you my address.

The other fun event was David's and my trip to the Casino. I love to gamble. Actually, let me elaborate on that. I like to play blackjack. I think the last time I went was at this same casino 5 years ago.

I am a terrible player. I'm constantly asking what I should do, where I should place my bets, and I rely heavily on the casino "cheat sheet" they hand out to rookie players like me. I even ordered a beer because I thought it was free. Don't they do that in Vegas? Turns out it wasn't free. It was very expensive, cheap draft beer. Oh well. I had to look the part!

We had a great time, and since I came out with marginally more money than I went in with, I consider it a successful night.

Now that I have all my guilty secrets out there, what are yours? Tell me I'm not the only one out there who cuts loose every once in a while.

The Beach

The boys would like to say hello from the beach. They also said something about asking you to ignore the ridiculous swimwear their mother makes them wear, but I edited out that comment.

We'll be returning home on Tuesday. I will return to the bloggy fold then.