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The Perfect Solution

I’ve been struggling with my “retirement”. My visions of sleeping in and waking up refreshed have yet to materialise. At first, I blamed my baby related weakened blabber, but this morning I finally figured out how not to feel the need to get out of bed at First Pee.

Lee is going to a meeting today which is not in his office. Due to this, he is working from home this morning which meant when the alarm went off, he stayed in bed. My mind and my body were a bit startled because this obviously was not the routine we were used to. But it was excellent. I got up, went for my annoying wee and came back into bed instead of groggily sitting at the computer. And I got to lie there for what felt like forever…. until BoB decided to remind me who was boss and had me back out of bed.

So, what I feel is needed, is a lottery win. That way Lee can stay home and if he stays in bed, so will I. How easy a solution is that? Why didn’t I think of this earlier? Even BoB will have trouble trying to take over if it is vs. both Lee and I. Yes, with me BoB usually wins, but that is only because any wrong move on his/her part can lead me to a very embarrassing situation.

Right. So reminder… I need to get a lottery ticket for tonight! Let’s hope £2.5 million will do the trick!

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What a bunch of cocks!

This afternoon, Lee and I went to meet up with some friends for lunch in Northampton. We spent a lot of time talking about how amazing it is that you can have this little person growing inside of you one day and then next day you wake up* and there they are.. you can touch, see, hear and smell them.

Instead of taking the highway (motorway) home, we went through the villages so that we could stop at the farm shop and get some yummy Pickle Power (pickled onion cheddar). We got our piece and took some Black Bomber (extra mature Welsh Cheddar) to go with it and started heading toward the car when a commotion caught my eye. Not between people, but between the chickens that roam freely. I at first thought that it was a case of some rabid chickens trying to eat another chicken, when Lee pointed out that I was actually witnessing Fowl Gang Rape.

I covered my ears and turned away and waited for Lee to get the car and bring it to me (we were parked right by the action). I’ve never witnessed such a horrible sight, and I’ve seen a dead man vomit on someone!!!

I’m so happy that BoB cannot see from the inside out. At that moment in time I envied him/her. I too wanted not to be able to see, or hear, or have a memory.

This cheese better be the best damned cheese I’ve ever had!!!

*Note: I am aware that you don’t wake up to find a baby there. I can only dream.

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The Green Green Grass of Home

One of the things about St.Kitts that makes it feel so much like home is the smell. There is a smell when you get off of the plane that lets you know where you’ve landed. Each time I step out of the plane I close my eyes and take in a deep breath and smile. After it rains, there is also a smell that I’ve come to love. It is like a mixture of the salty sea dancing with the sweet scents from the flora and fauna. You can close your eyes and still see the beauty of the island because of this smell. I love it.

Usually after it rains in Milton Keynes your senses are assaulted with a smell akin to being next to a pig processing plant or a chicken factory. It’s not pretty.

But today as I walked out of work I first saw the wet ground and then took a hesitant sniff at the air, only to be met with a similar scent to the post rain smell of St.Kitts. I closed my eyes tightly and smelled the air some more and when I opened my eyes… there it was… ugly old Milton Keynes stood before me. No bougainvilleas or hibiscus, no ocean waves crashing against the sand… not even a hint of sunshine.

I cannot explain how disappointing it was. I almost wished that the air would have had the choking, breath stealing stench it usually does post rain.

Who is this Mother Nature woman and why is she messing with me!?

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The Little Things In Life

When I got home from work today, there was one of those “We tried to deliver…” note cards inside the door. Instantly I forgot about the other pieces of mail that were scattered about with it and started trying to figure out what it might be.

Why is it that even at 31 years old, I am SO excited to see “real” mail?

Due to extreme tiredness though, I’m waiting for Lee to come home and escort me to the Post Office.

BoB and I need a nap after such excitement.

Imagine what would happen if I got a hand written letter?! I might go into labour!

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Lee took the girl out of Canada

..but he cannot take the Canada out of the girl.

Last night during Scrabble I was so hoping for there to be an open E for me to use on the board. However, Lee dashed those hopes by spelling something with an O instead and alas I never got to play my perfect word:

Beaver!

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‘Tis the Season?

Normally I am the Queen of Christmas. From the middle of October I start getting tingles in my fingertips and toes because I know that I won’t have to wait long until the stores are pumping out the rocking Christmas tunes, stuffing their shelves with cheap decorations and gift packs that I never buy but always feel that I “need”.

I am a lover of cheap crap.

Last year I fought through the First Christmas Without My Dad by cooking constantly. Making homemade pasta, gourmet dinners and baking, baking, baking. Our Christmas Dinner For Two could have fed a small impoverished nation, but it helped take my mind off of the most important thing that was missing that day. The alcohol didn’t hurt either.

This year, I am as sober as they come and as much as I try to jumpstart the Christmas Spirit hidden within, as soon as there is a sign that it is coming back, the engine stalls. Even though I do like the tree. A lot. And I like the cute stocking we bought as well. I just can’t get that Christmas Feeling that I am longing for.

The Tree

Christmas without my Dad in the world is not really a Christmas worth celebrating. I keep hoping my Kwanza card will come through the door letting me know that this has all been the longest, most draining nightmare I’ve ever had. But, it doesn’t come. My Christmas Card in November never arrived either.

Yesterday we put up the tree in hopes that it would bring a smile to my face, and although it was a great distraction, as soon as it was done the Spirit left again. Perhaps next year, when there is a little (or big) baby crawling around wondering why this massive tree has taken over the living room and why s/he cannot touch it, things will be different. For now though, they suck.

Normally I can rattle of a million things that I want. This year, I want nothing. I lie, I want a diaper bag. But I can get that after Christmas when hopefully stores will be having their sales. But I seriously cannot think of anything I could get that would bring back the feeling of Christmas Overjoy that I usually have.

That is not to say that I have been The Grinch the entire “season”. And last night there were a lot of laughs between the tears. But those came thanks to my husband who must have put something in the orange juice that he was drinking, because he was a whole new man for a while there; Not “The Man Whose Wife Drains Him Of All Will To Live With Her Constant Crying and Crankiness”.

Leggy Lee and The Tree

The Tree Has Arms

The next photo is small and dark, but last night when we got home I was startled as I looked against the fridge door to see my the shadow of my profile. I Am The Grinch!

The Grinch

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I’m Nice on the Inside…Really

Last night, Lee and I went to the Sally Ann box to donate some clothes; 8 large garbage bags, 2 large shopping bags and a weekender sized suitcase fully of clothes. We left feeling very good about ourselves. We are hoarders. We are the people who keep everything .. just in case. So it took a lot to part me with so many of my clothes (over half the loot was mine), but with 93 days until the Estimated Due Date it just had to be done.

Being the lazy people we are, we figured that our mass donation was our good deed for the year. That is until today when we were leaving the supermarket, only for me to notice a lady’s purse hanging from a shopping cart. I stood next to it and looked around the parking lot to see if anyone was returning for it. And no one was. Someone had unloaded all of their groceries and left their purse there …. and as Lee pointed out.. the wallet was sticking straight out of the top. We returned to the store and waited in the Customer Service line to hand it in. The lady behind the desk was surprised; especially when she saw the stack of money in the wallet. I, never even thought to look there. Anyway, I left my name and number and address (even though I was a bit nervous about leaving my details for some stranger to have… says the girl who married a man she met on the Internet) and when I got home I noticed that there was a message on my phone. A very gracious message from the owner of the handbag.

After weeks of trying to sleep and using my limited energy to think of ways not to be sick, this weekend has been chock full of doing things around the house, at the shops and upping my Good Karma Rating.. and at the end of it, although I feel exhausted, I feel good.

I knew I was nice. I just had to dig deep inside to find it.

Lee and I have been in our house now for 32 months. That’s right, 4 months shy of 3 years. We have done some sort of change to every room in the house since moving in – some minor, some major. The one room that has suffered most is our bedroom. We had grand plans back in the day when we were sleeping on an air mattress (that also doubled as our sofa during the day). However, those plans faded when we decided to strip the wallpaper and discovered that behind this wallpaper were two unfinished walls. One even lacking a basic skim.

So we continued to strip it because there is no going back when you make a discover like we did. But that’s it. Other than the new furniture, the walls stayed as they were. Oh, other than the test areas where different shades of blue and terracotta show the original and improved ideas were tried out.

Since the baby is coming and we want to get out of here, we thought that perhaps it was about time to take apart the monstrosity that was the wardrobe we bought from the previous owners. Not only did it take up a massive amount of space (okay, our massive bed doesn’t help either but it’s comfortable damn it!), but we couldn’t access the electrical socket next to it because of the huge plug heads in this country. Are they even called plug heads?

Anyway, today was the day. It all came down… and when it did, Lee called me in to show me that behind the wardrobe lay a surprise… a lilac coloured wall. Odd since the rest of the room was yellow to start with. Also odd considering the female half of the previous owners was supposedly a bedroom interior designer.

Luckily, we own the largest container of white paint and tomorrow, the lilac shall be but a fleeting memory and finally the “urban room” will begin to take shape and turn into the more appropriate “mature parents’ bedroom”.

Okay okay, we’re not mature, but we are more mature than we were 32 months ago!!!

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Reason #428451 Why I Married Lee

He is SO freaking handsome. Grr. Check that hot hunk of man out.

Warning Ladies: You can look, but you can’t touch!

Sweet Sweet Lee

Actually, with his teeth in he’s not half bad.

The Real Deal

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Say it ain’t so!!!!

When I get home from work, I come online and check the same few websites before I get into pyjamas and veg out. Usually I am met with the same old same old and not much that actually shocks me or surprises me or makes me want to cry.

Tonight however, I was met with this when I went to CNN.com:
Police: O.J. possible suspect in alleged theft

SAY IT AIN’T SO! I don’t have enough energy in me to fight the OJ fight. How many classes did I skip in university to keep my eye on The Trial of the Century?! Okay, there were other reasons that I skipped too, but that trial was the most important one. I couldn’t miss a damned thing. Even when I had no idea what was going on… it was still the best thing ever… like Law and Order – LIVE! Like CSI – How not to do it!!

This time though, you’re on your own Orenthal James. This time there won’t be a Johnny Cochrane (mostly because he’s head) or Robert Kardashian (because he’s dead too) and there won’t be me (because although I’m alive, I’m far too tired and nauseous to deal with your ass).

Sure, you’re sitting there thinking “it’s only theft”… but when it comes to OJ Simpson, there is no “only”.

If I was a praying girl, I’d pray for his ass. But I’m not. So I believe I’ve got to finally cut the apron strings and let him go.

Silly man. Silly silly man.

*please note that if he is not charged with this alleged theft, then I will secretly breath a sigh of relief, but continue on the outside to pretend to be completely disgusted.