What my dream office looks like

First off my dream office has white floors and white walls with 12 foot ceilings and an expansive wall of windows in a loft downtown somewhere, anywhere.

I choose to work from this desk here.

and sit in this faux leather chair here.

While I find all my neatly organized office material behind me here. That's my assistant's desk in the foreground.

I'll use this for my spreading out paper project. The project where you frantically spread all sorts of nice white fresh paper out and then tap it on the desk and put it back in that nice wall unit above.

I'll allow my visitors to sit in these chairs. They'll add a much needed splash of black.




My assistant can file things away in these.

I'll write all the latest news and messages on these glass noticeboards.

And I'll stare at Jenny Wilkinson wall strips. Maybe once and a while I'll doodle the ladybugs in purple and pink.

Of course at my dream office there will be no work done by anyone (but my imaginary assistant).

signed, the willow

Truth Wizards & Soothsayers

Lately, like many other Canadian mothers, I have become unnerved (to put it mildly) about the case of the missing 8-year-old girl, Tori Stafford, of Woodstock, Ontario. Her sweet little face lurks in my mind all day, every day since she disappeared on April 8th this year. Two suspects have been arrested and charged with first degree murder in the case. You can read about it here. Because I really wouldn't want even the names of the two on my blog or anywhere near me.

What scares me the most here is that I have had two specific dreams/visions of this little girl and thus far, some of this has so far come true. Unfortunately, the details are far too grim for me to post here and I don't want anyone to be led astray by my personal opinions as it is so hard for me to be objective and keep my personal opinions out of this case. I have been sleuthing far too much on this case and I am now so fixated and so involved, in my own little way, that I personally feel responsible for helping the family uncover the truth. No one deserves to hear the news that Tori Stafford's family had to hear.

I do want to point you in the direction of two very interesting people with sensitivities. Sensitivities that some may not believe exist. I do believe in their sensitivities and feel as though there is truth in their intuition.

Meet Christine Hamlett (from the "Rescue Mediums") and Eyes from 'Eyes for Lies'. Although I have yet to see the Fox show "Lie to Me" that is based on Eyes' skill, I have been a regular viewer of Christine on "Rescue Mediums". I do hope that the police take their perspectives into consideration, as nothing should be ruled out at this point.

signed, the willow

Sasha and Sinjin

For months (9.5 of them to be more exact), *Steve* and dog-eared a baby name book scouring it for good names. All the while, we knew we'd have a girl and what we'd name her. But for the longest time we fought over boys' names. He liked SINJIN because of Sinjin Smith and I liked SASHA because, well, I like the name Sasha for a boy.

So, there was our little daughter lying there so perfect and screaming her head off looking for her name. And the obstetrician said "What's her name?". I had barely time to process that a child had just come out of me and now I had to give it a name. I didn't even confer with *Steve*. I just took one look at her and blurted it out.

It was the middle name *Mila* that took a few days to enter onto the birth registry. Thank goodness you are a girl. Imagine how life would have been so different if you were Sasha or Sinjin?

signed, the willow

Attire

I had to take a little train trip into Toronto for a business meeting. Meet the pumps that felt the need to give me a blister.

I know. My waist is not that small. Neither is my neck. Those are my bracelets. Pretty.

signed, the willow

Wallpaper Manic Depressive

From Osborne & Little: Best in Show
Gosh, who wouldn't love to paste that on their walls? Even cat lovers everywhere are screaming: "Give me Doggie Wallpaper!"

For your little nerds, how about this one from 5.5 Designers:

And while you are stopping by their shop, also check out their weight cloning pillows. Yeah. You tell them your weight and proportions and they recreate your belly in the form of a pillow. Sigh.

signed, the willow

Rule #8 of Fight Club

"If this is your first night, you have to fight."

What are your Top 10 Favourite Movies of all time?

Here's my list with links to IMDB:

10. Twelve Monkeys
9. Lord of the Rings (all 3)
8. Fight Club
7. So I Married An Axe Murderer
6. Snatch
5. 2001: A Space Odyssey
4. Sixteen Candles
3. 300 (TIE)
3. King Arthur (TIE)
2. An American in Paris
1. Pulp Fiction


signed, the willow

Word to your Mutha!

My day today will start at

5:55 a.m.


I will probably tune into 'Home Heist' with Colin and Justin with the closed captioning on and sweat profusely running 8 km in these:

I will have to wake up the little *Mila* around this time:

Following that I will make *Mila* her breakfast and just before I strip completely to get into the shower, this mutt will insist on going out to briskly burn the grass and bark to be let back in:

After fussing over removing crusts from Wonder Bread and greenery from strawberries, I will have to negotiate outfits with *Mila* in her wonder closet:

Here she will chose a sundress (despite it being only 5 degrees Celsius every morning) and these socks! Note the socks:

I will drop off my girl at school avoiding the left lane on the highway as it will be closed again. Be the only parent to come into the classroom and sing O Canada! I will narrowly escape school and will drive to the grocery store to stock up on raisins, rice crackers and lychee nuts for the playdate we will have later in the park. Don't forget I will have to rush home to water these:

...and these. I will turn them in the same direction each day to participate in the phototropism experiment I am teaching *Mila*, about the mobility of plants.

Next I will probably wake up the sleeping dog and take her for a walk where she will swim in the stagnant section of the creek and drink from every mud puddle. We will have to leash up and avoid the Jeep Cherokee that is driving on the walking trail (WTH???) towards us!

There will be only twenty minutes left to pack a lunch and head back to school to pick up *Mila*. Of course, I will more than likely throw the laundry into the washing machine. But I won't get to actually turning on the machine until 6:30 p.m. Here is the rest of the laundry that I won't get to until the weekend:

This is the skipping rope that will cause turmoil on the playdate and some tears, perhaps a scream or two.

Here is the box that I will label "BROKEN GLASS" for the garbage men that will pick it up next week. I will fill it with a glass that once was filled with water. *Mila* will break a glass filled with water over dinner while she tells a crazy wild story over homemade pizza (homemade dough and all):

This is the toilet I will have to plunge ....

Here is the painting mess I will have to clean up after I finish working. Note the orange hand prints on the right that will eventually wrap themselves around the bathroom tap:

Let's not forget my orange Kenmore friend. I will see her again, as I do every day. She's so faithful:

Some dishes will have to be handwashed. Including this bundt pan although I won't have time to make a bundt cake:

I will have to trip over this cardboard box house that *Mila* made before moving it aside:

Here is the bath that will have 2 microscopic turquoise things floating in it and will result in draining it and result in a shower for *Mila*. The two turquoise things will turn out to be sock fluff from one of the socks featured way back at the beginning:

There will be wet bathing suit bottoms to be picked up after the bath as *Mila* will not want anyone to see her naked:

Let's not forget Suma. She will position herself at the top of the stairs doing her kangaroo imitation for a self-inflicted cervical exam:

This will be the time that *Steve* will come home:

And this is what I will read on the fridge one more time before bed:

There will be a celebration! With lots of games!

And every day, she will love me because I take care of her:
But why do I have to take care of that other kid too?

And that will be my day. Good night.

signed, the willow

Happy Mother's Day Yesterday

Yesterday, I was so damn busy going to playgrounds from Oakville to Waterdown that I was unable to post a Happy Mother's Day message to my mom. That's her above. Both pictures are of her. If you know what I look like you'll know that my mom and I look a lot alike. Except our baby pictures. Turns out, I was "lightbulb head" like my dad.

My mom is indescribable. She worked so hard at looking after my brother and I. She never let things stand in her way, she just trudged on. Now, I am making her sound like a soldier. It's not like that. She is both modest and kind, she went out of her way to do things for us that I don't know that I do as a mother. I'm far more selfish. In fact, my whole generation is and ironically we are all becoming parents later in life. So what IS our excuse?

Every Mother's Day I flop out on a gift for her. What can I get her that is meaningful, stylish, cool, useful, functional, artsy-fartsy and sentimental? I give up, what? This year she wanted an antique barn star. One of those old tin barn stars? I can't find one anywhere. I guess I live in the land of urban conventionalism, my brother might be able to help out as he lives in the land of rustic and wild. Instead, I got her this:

What the hell is it, you are asking yourself. It is a letter "L". Now that I look at it, I probably could have made one myself. Here I go again. But it is faux snakeskin and I don't know where on earth I could buy faux snakeskin vinyl paper. The problem lies in the initial "L". She bears no initial with the letter L. Although, she does get nicknamed Lainie or Lady of the Lake. I bought it to symbolize LAKE. She could put it down at her beach and it would stand in for the word LAKE. Because in case you haven't noticed there is a vast body of water down at the beach, it is called a LAKE. This is why I give up on myself. There is too much insanity in my wee brain to process anything other than LAAAKE.

Here are some other important mothers of the day. My Gran. She's my mom's mom. And that is my mom in her lap, with a wet nappie.In this picture, you have my Dad's family. That's my Dad with his lightbulb shaped noggin in the front row (striped shirt) and my grandmother is second from the right.
Happy Mother's Day to my mother, and my grandmother, and all the mothers across the globe. You are all sweet even if you do let your children watch Dora and use their outside voices in indoor venues.

signed, the willow

Always Buy Your Brand New Mazda During A Hailstorm Like Me

Seriously. *Steve* and I bought our first Mazda in 2001 and there was a hailstorm that night

in Winnipeg. Luckily, it was Winnipeg and we could fit our little Protege 5 into the triple car garage. Unfortunately Southern Ontario does not offer the same magnitude of garages here. Also, garages in Southern Ontario are used for stuff. Why? Not sure. But if you've been inside a single car garage in S. Ontario you will know that they are used for tricycle parking only.

After the rain storm. We missed the hail by driving around to avoid it. We did hear that there was a tornado coming!

signed, the willow

Disconcerted

Is that a good word for today? Heck, yeah. Is it right to feel a little disappointed with the world now and again? There is so much going on out there and we all tend to get wrapped up in our trivial day-to-day operations. There is something festering inside of me. A little worry. A little insignificant person who is making themselves present and significant. I've decided that my actions speak to being a "bigger person" as some would say. But I hate not having everyone like me. In the past I tended to time my relationships to a specific limit where I wouldn't allow anyone to get any closer than they could. I kept them at bay for fear that they would find fault in me and not like me or hate me. Those intense feelings are often too much. When I meet other intense people with intense feelings, those time limits are abolished.

That's why a good bow around your neck and a tummy rub cures all pains.

In case the angle isn't quite obvious, she's lifting her left leg waiting for the belly rub of a lifetime. Noogie, noogie, noogie SUMA!

signed, the willow

Finding ways to work Brad Pitt into my day

There has been little time for much lately. And by much, I mean muchmusic, muchmoremusic, much food, much laughter, much anything. I skipped my treadmilling today like an experimented-on-hamster-on-a-perpetually-moving-wheel and my day is off now. Sometimes I think it may be the dream I had the night before that is distracting me. However, I wouldn't be so lucky. Brad Pitt was hanging out in a slummy old abandoned restaurant (which reminded me of the sparseness of a certain candy store from my home town) with his publicist. Hey, it seemed more realistic if a publicist was with him. He had this hat on and he smiled at me so kindly when I desperately asked him for an autograph. Then he wrote something for me on an old (1970s) children's storybook. It was pocketbook size and it seemed to have a pale green border framing the cover. Then he wanted to meet my family. So, now do you think we could find them. I was driving and searching all over this abandoned town looking for *Steve* and *Mila* with BRAD PITT! He was talking about his kids and how they were dealing with different issues at school. It was like he was just this everyday parent who loved his kids (I don't doubt that he does love his kids in real life - I'm quite sure he does). So what happened, you ask? Nothing. I woke up. No 'Fight Club;. No 'Meet Joe Black'. No 'A River Runs Through It'. I just woke up while *Steve* lay beside me twitching and the entire room was shuddering from his movements. Gawd! Why can't I ever get to the good part?

signed, the willow

How Old Am I?

In the grand scheme of things does it really matter what your chronological age is? The Wii might tell me that I'm 4 years older than I really am. But if I watch 90210 (the new one) shouldn't I subtract 14 years from my age? Add 4, take away 14, that makes me 10 years younger than I really am! Yay!

signed, the willow

Have you seen this map before?

Is it a map to a campground or a cemetery?

signed, the willow

Mystery Items

What do these items have in common?



signed, the willow