Here is to 2008

So many things we have done right and wrong on this planet of ours. Let's start with outfit above. Matchy? Nope. Cute? Yep. We have over-spent, over-indulged, polluted, destroyed, endangered, voted, changed, fought, protested, struggled, and renovated. For us, we have pretty much done all of the above in our family. Okay, we have tried not to pollute or endanger. In fact, this year *Mila* received a snow leopard from WWF Canada. Thus she saved a snow leopard in Mongolia and received a stuffed animal that was produced in China. I'm hoping no child labour was involved in its production....?

Here is to 2008 and let's ring in 2009 together.

signed, the willow

I'm too shy to tell you how shy I am

I'm working up the courage to take a huge leap forward with my artwork. That step is to sell it. To let it go. To release it to the world and expose myself to all sorts of criticism, judgement and honesty. To reveal my reasoning, logic, emotions and my soul to the world. Or rather, that small corner of the world who will actually see it. Then I found Gatochy's eloquent expression of how I felt and more importantly, how I need to let go of my magical imaginary friend who will never ever unlock my drawer of creations. If you ever feel shy or can't understand how others may feel when they describe themselves as shy, read this. Go! Now. Read it, dammit.

This January 1st when we ring in the new year what will you resolve to do better or different this year? I've decided to take *Gatochy's* advice and let go of the ideal I have of my wonderful magical friend who will rescue me and unlock my castle doors and release me and my talents to the world. For I have my own Prince Charming who believes in me. I also have my biggest fan, Lady of the Lake, who can offer me no criticism - since she gave me life and sees no harm in calling me an Artist. My newest fan, the little keyholder in my life, *Mila* can unlock my doors. For she can see in behind all those castle walls I have built and erected around myself. She believes in me, the way I believe in my mother. The love that I crave is there. My "knight in shining armour" has been the realization that I can let the fantasy, of the knight taking my canvasses to an art show, go. Thank you *Steve*, *Lady of the Lake*, *Mila* and *Gatochy* (Mariana) for expressing what I need to do...let go. Two Thousand and Nine will be the year I resolve to release myself from my chrysalis and create a new ideal for who I can be, rather than who I can't.

signed, the willow

Most Prized Present

It is often the sweetest little gestures in life that make us smile. Tea pot courtesy *Steve*, from Second Cup. I adore how its sleekness matches my sleek new sexy IKEA cabinets.

signed, the willow

Our Red Buddies

Happy Holidays!

signed, the willow

Yo Chuck!

We really do have more snow than you in Southern Ontario. And look, *Steve* got a parcel!

signed, the willow

Accumulation

Well, the weather outside is frightful and I don't have a fireplace. The End.

signed, the willow

My snow fill

For me, growing up in Northwestern Ontario has endured me for all sorts of weather, and mosquitoes. For that reason, I decided to reward myself with the pleasure of staying inside in my shorty pants, bare feet and cool glass of water while my *Mila* rushes to get dressed and quickly jumps in the pile of white stuff on our deck. After all, it will be me that has to take all the wet, frozen clothes in to be laundered while I balance a vacuum cleaner on my head and stir a pot of chicken noodle soup with my toes.

signed, the willow

We all fall down....

While I was busy barfing in my bathroom, the TSX felt a tummy ache in trading, and the internet had an episode of vomiting. All true dear internet.

And now for something completely different.

Remember: When others are greedy, be fearful and when others are fearful, be greedy. That's what Mr. Warren Buffett would tell us.

signed, the willow

A Blogger with the Flu

Darn you Kindergarten. Why must you make the parents sick too? It had nothing to do with that cupcake smorgasbord, did it?

signed, the willow

Right now the dog is letting out the occasional bark that tells me she needs to go outside but is afraid to. The rain keeps her in and just as well, one less muddy mess to clean up.

We were lucky enough to go to *Steve's* work party this weekend. They treated the kids to a famous Dr. Seuss story about Christmas and each kid came home with a DVD of the latest hit, Wall-E. Which I'm quite happy about since I love Wall-E and his love story, even if the movie does bear resemblance to 2001: A Space Odyssey. So, here is a scene from the party. The moment after I took this picture, as Mr. Narrator (who is directly correlated to my first year Psychology professor - hence the reason I dropped Psych 101) instructed "Jim Halpert" from the Office to bang the gong, everyone under the age of three went into a major hysterical screaming, crying temper tantrum and all hell broke loose. Heck, look at the little girl with her shoulders shrugged, her nervous system went into a tizzy.

Here my tizzy starts with the dog barking.

signed, the willow

Snowy Cupcake

I love a good cupcake photo. Thanks Lady of the Lake.

signed, the willow

Icelandic Socks

Believe me, go here, make a video, have a laugh, have some egg nog, fall down and make a sock puppet.

signed, the willow

Tally the Cards

My brother and I have a family holiday tradition of counting cards. So far, I am one ahead of him. The only rule thus far is that we are not allowed to mail ourselves cards. I am wondering if catalogues and calendars count? If they do I am very far ahead. See yesterday's post.

This week has been stressful for *Mila* and I. Both of us like to use our tears to express ourselves. But we also like to eat a bowl of black cherry ice cream to drown our woes too. I experience great sadness when I think of an adult yelling at a child - and it reminds me to have more ice cream and less screaming, as a mother who has screamed in the past. I speak from experience. Life can be like a bowl of ice cream and involve meltdowns and freezing moments. The memories we make at these tender ages of 4, 5, and 6 last lifetimes. If you think back to Kindergarten you might not remember things. Good. It probably means your Kindergarten teacher sang you some nice songs while you napped on your pillow. Why did we have to have a nap during our 2 hours of school anyhow? When the bad memories start to burn their way into the images of 35 mm film of your mind is around age 6, or grade 1. You begin to recognize embarrassment and want only to fit "in". I remember going home in grade 1 the day our dog died, or "ran away" as my mother gently put it to me. I remember how badly I wanted to stay home that day and not go back after lunch. Struggling with my mother, she probably let me stay home with her to mourn the loss of the dog that "ran away".

signed, the willow

*Steve*! I will not buy you a chicken

No matter how hard my husband may try, I will not buy him a chicken. This would be a live chicken I am referring to. *Mila* (our 4.75 year old daughter) is convinced that this chicken *Steve* longs for would turn into his dinner. Well, just when I thought that his life long dream of owning chickens as pets had ended, a catalogue arrived in the mail. Upon opening the mailbox I had my HABLAD (have a belly laugh a day) and passed it to *Mila*, who looked at me with that "Oh Gawd Mother, now what?" look.

Willow: Remember how Dad wants a chicken all the time?

*Mila*: Yeah?

Willow: Well, look at this!

There it was in its finest catalogue form: EggCartons.com

Where on earth does he find this stuff, internet?

*Mila*: Here Mom, I'm tired of reading about chickens.com

signed, the willow (still chickenless)

Bears Who Make Friends with Baby Chicks

What is happening to my brain?

sighed the willow

D.D. this year in the Barbie Corvette

Meet Emma, your driver for this holiday season. She's been kind enough to stay sober long enough to take the Barbies out this holiday season on more than one occasion. She'll be easily recognized when you see the pink Corvette pull up with candy canes strewn on the rear view mirrors. Buckle up and remember, stay off the road if you've decided to dip into the wobbly pops. If you can't do it for yourself, do it for the children or quite obviously: your own child.

signed, the willow taking a ride from Emma.

Port Wine Cheese Spread

Just the recipe today and no photo of the finished product. Obviously I'm all out of port wine.

Port Wine Cheese Spread

1/2 cup port wine
1 pound sharp aged cheddar cheese, grated
1 cup sour cream
1/4 cup butter, melted
1 tsp salt
1/8 tsp cayenne

Combine wine and butter in a bowl. Set aside. In a blender/food processor blend cheese, sour cream, salt and cayenne. Gradually add in wine and butter. Process until smooth. Store in airtight containers. Refrigerate for a day and then spread it on a Triscuit or something cracker-like.

signed, the willow

A Jolasveinar Village

Inspired by *even cleveland's* rendition, I decided to try my hand at these little troll houses. These are six of the first batch I tried last night. I need a better hole punch and a husband who doesn't stand over top of me and direct me "Did you want to see a better way to do that?" OMG! This is a craft, there is no deadline. Then he wanted to know why I was making them. Like I need to justify my home decor for the holidays? (No wonder why I dreamt of his elaborate scheme to foil my decorating by hiring a TEAM of experts to re-do our mansion. Yes, mansion?!) It was somehow like living with two 4-year-olds. "Go watch Bugs Bunny, *Steve*! Oh, and it's a hair-washing night." These are the evil things that pour from my mouth when I've heard enough sass! Reminder: *Steve* lacks follicles on top.

If you would like to see where the Huldufolk live, well that's a WHOLE other story.

signed, the willow

Miss Willow, What do you do with your time?

Well, my special Internet friend, let me tell you what I do with my time. On an average Saturday morning, I sleep in until 6 am. That's right, I sleep in until 6. Here is the rest of my family with the exception of the dog.

They sleep in until 8:45 or later. The dog uses Saturdays as her excuse to sleep in and then stay up really late and insist on going out for a major bark-fest at midnight. Maybe that's not late for you, Internet friend, but it is for this sappy old willow.

Sometimes, I start to get inspired by a little Billy Goats Gruff and I start a little triptych for a boy, for a change.

Maybe I take a little glamour and glitter up some balsa wood. Loving this pink glittery snowflake. It is taking another dip in the vat of glitter this weekend!

On occasion, I cut and cut out stars or snowmen snowflakes and call it time well spent with scissors and paper.

I might daydream about painting this little puppy. Of course, it belongs to someone who is 4 and will take me down if I dare scribble a brushstroke on it.

What can I tie up with these loveys?

signed, the willow and her wasted time

Gleðileg Jól

I'm very sorry that he wasn't more excited about Christmas this year....click here to hear it.

signed, the willow

Die-A-Bettys

Overheard on the loud speaker in a local store last month:

"Attention valued shoppers, we have a nurse here to check you out to see if you have 'die-a-(long pause goes here)-betties'. If you or someone you love suffers from 'die-a-betties' then you can come on by and have your blood sugar tested for 'die-a-betties'."

Someone forgot to tell this announcer to put the proper em-PHA-sis on the proper syll-A-bles.

signed, the willow

Leif Eriksson Brought us Over

A special birthday wish to the man walking towards the Mayflower.

You came to us on a boat. Scratch that. That's so not true. Maybe your ancestors came on a boat. Not that boat. This ancestor:

But they were scared off by the locals (not these two locals - they're yocals) and came back a few hundred years later. Ahem. 800 years later.

Your taste in spectacles has always been spectacular.

And when you weren't busy planning the financial future of many other people's lives, you were there for me.

And her too. Thanks Dad! We all love you so much. Happy Birthday.


signed, the willow

Forty Years Ago Today

Once upon a time there was a sad, lonely and slightly paranoid Gingerbread Man. His clothes were tattered and covered in ink. I think he did a lot of bookwork.

Then one fine sunny day, the Gingerbread Man went to see his friend Minnie. Minnie introduced him to a lovely Gingerbread Lady. She was pretty and her eyes were looking the same direction as his, so he knew it had to be love!

They ran away to a local polkadotted church and were married on a Monday...because it was Grey Cup weekend and the Blue Bombers were playing. No, it wasn't the Gingerbread Man who changed the date, it was his grandmother.

All our love Gingerbread Couple on your 40th Anniversary!

signed, the Gingerbread Couple's Number One Daughter

When Bad Luck Schmedlap Comes to Visit

When the morning starts off a little like today did, you start to believe in the Huldufolk.

Waking up at 5:30 am on Mondays is enough to make most people I know cringe. But, it began with the morning ritual of visiting the washroom before pouring a coffee. "What?! No toilet paper? Seems to me there was toilet paper at 3 am, when I was in here last. Oh, I've seen this little culprit before, the toilet paper thief. The one who takes the very last 24 sheets of toilet paper and throws them in the trash. And I do mean the last 24 sheets of the entire house."

5:34 am: Pour the cream into the coffee and return it to the fridge. Not until you drop it on the floor and coat your black cupboards with white cream first! Yes, it is the 'cream tripper'.

So, after a 4 mile run, a sleepyhead that needed to be awakened and a lazy dog that doesn't like the 4 inches of slush in the backyard, I am met with a wiper blade that cracks off of the car and is stuck to the confines of my pink glove. How does this happen? Can't drive in this muck all the way to school - it's a 15 minute drive over the armpit of Lake Ontario. Call the school and tell them "We probably won't be there."

Enough said. I'm not trying to say I had a bad day. We started our morning off with what is known as a "Bad Luck Schmedlap" day.

While we let teddy bear Emma roast plastic marshmallows over a fire made from Tinkertoys, let's review that gingerbread recipe that is chilling in the fridge:

8 tablespoons of margarine

1/2 cup brown sugar (the firmly packed variety)

1/2 cup molasses

1 egg

2 1/2 cups flour

1 tsp baking soda

1/2 tsp salt

1 tbsp powdered ginger

1 tsp cinnamon

1 tsp nutmeg

1. In a large mixing bowl, cream margarine and sugar. Beat in egg and the molasses.

2. In a separate bowl, sift together the dry ingredients. Add the dry ingredients to the margarine mixture. When completely combined cover and refrigerate for an hour.

3. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees and grease those cookie sheets, cool cat.

4. Roll your dough to 1/4 inch thick. Cut with cookie cutters or to the specifications of your blueprints. Bake for about 7 minutes. Remove from oven and let cool.

5. Decorate with icing, gumdrops and sprinkles OR glue your "Hansel and Gretel Trap" together with loads of gooey icing and delicious treats! Enjoy my pretties.

signed, the schmedlap/er, I mean willow