She needs MILK!!!!!

she also needs a lot of bran.

(Don't you love solving the mystery dinners of your neighbourhood?)

signed, the willow

Was there a ochre Ford Escape convention?

Suddenly she realized they were everywhere!  The ochre Ford Escapes had surrounded her.  This was it.  The end of the world as she knew it.  And it would all go down on Fairview by the Burlington Mall?  Huh?

signed, the willow

Social media and children

I'm encouraging my *mila* to learn how to use Instagram, Twitter, and the likes.  I'm also encouraging her to use these tools responsibly.  However, I'm noticing something (and this is new to all parents out there, as we have never grown up with these mobile tools):  bullying.  Kids get on these devices, toys, mobile phones, etc. and find ways to ostracize each other.  They ignore texts and they're berated.  They put their iPads down to, I don't know, use the bathroom; and the bullying begins.  The constant tethering and umbilical-like ties we teach them by example is causing their own demise.

*Mila* is nine and she wants to use her new iPad to text, facetime, take pics and post them to instagram. But the second someone gets the least bit upset with her, she's deleted from their following.  "Following"?  Yep, what they hell are we doing?

When I was her age, kids rarely phoned each other after school.  So, we came home put our troubles away and didn't lose sleep.  We had our stomach aches in the morning and there was no constant dingling of texts, facetime requests, or instagram deletions.  It's time to teach our children etiquette with the technology we created with such immediacy and need for the quick, small, and entertaining.  These tools are meant to make life safer, easier, and delightful.  They aren't meant to cause gut ache, worry, and drama.

If you have children on these tiny little tapping tools, teach them manners.  Set boundaries.  Set limits.  Our new rules today:  no texting after 7 pm.  No facetime while you eat your dinner.  No followers on instagram without your parents permission.  Oh, and another thing:  we watch everything you do!

signed, the willow

*Sigh*

As of late I have been very absent.  Absent from creativity.  Absent from my blog.

I've focused my attention on the dribbling mess that my former business is leaving behind.  I've been winding down all that income tax mumble jumble.  Balancing a full time job.  Being a mom to a gymnast that now takes a night class for 3 hours.

Suddenly my life has become busy.

And I've had a chance to assess.  Assess what should have been.  What was. What is.  I'm finding the power of now.  For now comes to an end and recognizing the end makes me live in the "now".  Because the now will end.  Does this make us relish it more?  I like to think so.

Life is too short some say.  Life is too precious.  What do you think?

I think I need more of "Big Carl" and his contents:

signed, the willow

The next dog will have a tail that hangs down

So, I'm about to tell you a rather embarrassing story.  

Let's begin with a diagram:

The dog was hanging around mooching chips from *Mila* with her big puffy tail in front of me.  I had to get up to squeeze some more food down my gullet, so I attempted to move the dog towards the potato chips and out of my way.  

This is where you can run and grab some anti-bacterial gel.  As I leaned forward on the laptop and reached around with my right hand, my index finger was inserted directly in Suma's chocolate starfish.  Her rusty bullet hole.  The dog's brown eye.  Rusty's rusty sherriff badge.  The on-ramp for the Hershey hi-way.  

Get the picture?

And where was *Steve*? Laughing of course.  Is he the only one in the family that hasn't stuck his finger up the dog's butt?

signed, the willow

Happy 2012

What the?

Happy new year.

signed, the willow

Bloglovin

Every week there's a new curious tool to use on the internet.  Pinterest, Klout, and Bloglovin.  I would love to meet the genius people who create these wondrous and necessary tools on the internet.  Remember the days where the internet bored you to death and you felt as though you'd seen it all?  Yeah!  Those days are over.  Now we need ways to navigate our ways through the piles of bookmarks and links we've collected.  A tool to refine the blogs.  A tool to tell us what's new and what we've already read (even though we've probably already forgot).

Here's how pretty Bloglovin looks:

Here's how pretty, I don't look:

signed, the willow

Spinning

My blog came to a pause when I came down, spinning down, with vertigo.  My head is constantly tilted to the left.  My eyes are suffering from nystagmus and I keep  the gravol and a trash can close by.

Maybe it's a testament to my crazytown life that I'd end up with a spinny symptom of something else that's wrong with my head.

Stay tuned,
willow

I'm married to a Griswold

Yes, I know there aren't that many lights.  But, when goes to Canadian Tire thrice each weekend day for more lights and starts chatting up the neighbour about his lights.  The neighbour puts out lights, Clark Griswold puts out lights.  The neighbour puts out more lights, Clark puts out more lights.  And it keeps going on and on and on.

signed, the willow

Back to Work

My challenge this week has been to balance a new work life with home life.  Working full time for someone else hasn't happened for 8 years for me.  So, it's a bit of a stretch for me.

First, I'm tired.

Second, there's no time to exercise. Or, if there is, I'm sleeping due to the point above.

Third, I miss my little girl and feel like the few precious moments in the evening are spent demanding her to do things.

Fourth, I feel guilty because everyone has made accommodations so that I can work.

Fifth, I feel squeezed, incapable, and fragile.  I'm new at this, so I know that it will get better and no day will be easy or perfect.

signed, the willow

Bridge Dreams

It's funny because *Mila* and I decided to talk about dreams.  Oddly enough we have both dreamed that Mr. Weatherbee, from Archie comics, is a serial killer.  I know it sounds hilarious.  But it's not.  Why is there something so strangely creepy about Mr. Weatherbee?

Then we started to discuss a common dream we both have:  Driving over bridges with our fathers; Driving through water with our fathers.  We want them to rescue us, but quite often we have to drive through the puddles, get a little wet, even muddy sometimes.  So, why do we both have these dreams?  I think I may have already answered this question.  We encounter "puddles" and obstacles in life.  We find bridges to cross, cars to cross the puddles in.  Sometimes we get wet.  Sometimes we make mistakes.  Sometimes we are just plain scared.  So, who better to protect us than our dads.

I'm a grown woman and yet, I still need the comfort to know that my dad will carry me through some "puddles" in life.  I also find it very comforting that my daughter finds comfort with my husband, *Steve*, her dad.

As for Mr. Weatherbee....stay tuned.

signed, the willow

Fragmented

I'm feeling full, heavy, weighted and somehow fragmented.

What do you reach out for when you feel like this?  Do you find yourself feeling like this?

I reached out for:


source:  healthyhabitsaustralia.com.au

I get a real good burst of stable energy from the good old Venga, but even today I felt a little tired, blue, upset, disappointed, and hurt.  While life is good, there are challenges deep under the surface.  Let's just leave it at that.

signed, the willow

Take me away to Glastonbury

I'm in absolute heaven with these wonderful people.  I want to be around them, creating magic with them.  Heck, I want to be them!



Welcome to the House of Fairytales from Sophie Windsor Clive on Vimeo.


signed, the willow

On occasion

On occasion we meet someone who cares enough to listen and pay attention.

*L* is one of these people that I was fortunate enough to meet.  An old soul and she's been chosen by my cousin to join him in life.  I've respected my little cousin (they're all littler than me in age) and looked forward to the moment that he'd marry and bring a wife into our nutso family. He didn't disappoint.  Funny thing is, because of geography and circumstance, I'm here in this obscure suburban city at the same point in life as they are.

It's rare, isn't it?  To spark a friendship so instantly? We've sparked a friendship and influenced each other more than we know.  Not in that silly old school girl way.  In a mature, eye-opening way.  I've just finished a portion of my life that I'd like to sweep under a carpet in some ways.  I made mistakes.  Big ones.  Mistakes I regret making.  Mistakes I am also thankful to have experienced.  I grew.  Grew in so many large leaps.  I gained some really great friends on that journey. Friends I long for and miss. Friendships have always presented themselves to me, but I refused to let myself get attached in the event that I would get attached and I'd get hurt.  Human nature goes here.  The unique friendships I gained in Muskoka were brief, but deep.

They affected me in a way that I had never expected.  There were women and some men that genuinely wanted to see my life's purpose work out.  What I didn't know then was, that was not my life's purpose.  It was the adversity I needed to face in order to pick myself up and dust myself off to discover my life's purpose.  Do I know what my purpose is?  Hmmm.  Maybe not perfectly clear on that yet.  I do now know that I feel better about myself.  

So, where is this all leading and where does it tie in back to *L*?  Well, what happened to me when I left that portion of  life behind and my friends situated on the map 3 hours north was I found a new friend.  Immediately. The first day we arrived back into our southern nest, she was an immediate and natural relief.  Opened her arms and hugged us.  She must have followed us from Muskoka where I had tearfully left so many great huggers behind.  She allowed me to be myself.  She's my instant friend and we've discovered so many great similarities and lessons to learn from each other.  We've learned to drag ourselves out to meet up with other new friends too.  And that's the best part.  We can teach each other how to be a friend.

Most importantly, I learned the other day that *L* clearly paid attention and cared.  She recognized that I'm celebrating a birthday this month and while it's not until later this month, her thoughtfulness reigned over the day and she brought me a special surprise.  One I did not expect.  One I certainly shall express my gratefulness here.  Grateful for listening and being a true friend.


A "K" mug.  So stylish and reminds me of 'Steven and Chris' but with edge and way more class.

A bag of coffee I've always wanted to try.  Named for a famous Canadian author (Guess who?) and also the name of my grandmother.  So very special.

A bag to hold it all with a motto that I live by.

And then there's this book.  One that I've been eyeballing online and dreaming that I'd go buy it when I was willing to part with my ...*ahem*... money.  Okay, okay:  my husband's money.  I dove right into that book and had trouble putting it down.  *L* really gets me.


I'm sure you feel the same about someone you've met.  Share.  And if you can't share it with me, share your story about a great friend with someone.  Shout it from the mountaintops.  Just don't hold it in like I did for so many years with so many really true friends, who still stand by my side.  You know who you are.

signed, the willow

TRICK OR EVIL?

Today I'm really hoping that November will enter with flexibility and fluidity.  However, it's not happening thus far.  All that sugar, the late nights, the anxiety, the anticipation, and the fears...it makes me feel like is it really worth it?

I love the whole buzz BEFORE Halloween.  But after I suffer from the post-holiday hangover, I wonder if next year I can escape and go somewhere really hot.

With all the spookiness of Halloween, does anyone else see my daughter's deformed looking hand?  And the ghastly mist emanating from it?  Ok, maybe I do like the chills Halloween provides.

signed, the willow

So, she remains faceless

This girl has come and gone, been reshaped, reformed, dripped, changed skin tones, added with a face, taken a face away.  Not sure what I've done with her arm.  She's been liquid papered.  But her expression is empty still.  Is this my transitional state right now?  Unsure of how I should feel.  Unsure of how I should tackle her.  So she sits and waits for me.

signed, the willow

A Hermitage Kind of Day

We never pass up the chance to have a hike in the Dundas Valley Conservation Area.  No hike around the loop would be complete without a stop at the Hermitage.  Supposedly haunted, it never leaves us with a bad feeling.  Rather, there's a sense of welcome and comfort there.  A woman lost her home to fire and remained in a tent on the site because she too felt the same as I do.  There is a stillness there and rarely do you hear a bird chirp, or a chipmunk chew through a nut.  In fact, it can give you a sense of unease if you pay attention to the silence.  The history associated with the ruins runs deep and tragedy surrounds it.   Not for us sassy babes.

Yesterday, there was evidence of some rituals or just kids doing random coincidental decaying wood monstrosities.  We found odd displays of decayed wood - split apart and formed into small mounds.

See?

And oddly, every photo I took of this "window" had a prismatic effect in the upper right corner.  No matter the angle, no matter the setting on my camera.  It was there.  This one seems to have an orb-like circle below it.  It is so distinct in some of the photos that I had to carefully inspect them to see if it had been painted on the stones.

Enjoy your day, whatever you choose to do, or not do.

signed, the willow

What's your Klout?

So, I see on Twitter one night that someone was tweeting about their Klout score. Thinking to myself....a what?

A Klout score.  It looks like this:


source:  Ask Aaron Lee

I signed up.  All the while I am telling myself, "you'll be damn lucky if you get a positive number".  So, I signed up and within a day I had a score of 47, which apparently isn't too bad.  But, what does it mean?  Well, there is this grid you can place yourself on.  I love these matrix-like wonderments.  It makes me all geeky, I begin to drool when I see a pretty chart to interpret.

There I am right beside IKEA (Hey, imagine that!).  I'm a Specialist.

What does this all mean?

Well my KLOUT score of 47 means my influence measure is 47/100.  So, every time I tweet, update my status or flush the toilet I get a point (or a decimal point).  It's my ability to influence others.  Will they retweet my tweets?  Will they click on my links?  Do they like me?  Because right now I feel a big popularity contest coming on.  In fact, I'm in a cold sweat.  The kind you get into before a high school dance and the cute guy comes in without that girlfriend of the week.



Next is TRUE REACH and this is the number of people you influence.  Mine said:

True Reach

Your True Reach:

124

source:  Klout
Wonder what I did on this timeline to make the jump from 48 to 124?




What about AMPLIFICATION?  What exactly does my score of 21 mean?  Well, I am 21 times more likely to have my message amplified than an "average person".  This would mean who?  I thought I was average.  Apparently, I am 21 times better than an average schmo.

Amplification

Your Amplification:

21

Lastly, we have NETWORK IMPACT.  Mine looks like a hormone swing.  Hmm?  This is how often my top influencers respond to my content.  If you go back up and look at the nice grid with the twitter photos, you'll see that these are my influencers.  If they respond to me, this score will go up.  I don't see Steven & Chris here.  They really should be on there influencing my network impact score!

Network Impact

Your Network:

43

This is what made me really giggle:

Influential about Dentistry?  When have I ever blogged, tweeted or had a status update about my lost passion for dentistry?  Um, maybe once?  Bizarre.  Glad I am so influential with the subject of Dentistry.  Maybe I'll start my own social media for Dentists consulting business?

Now, I want to know...do you have Klout?


signed, the willow

Schnook's Cookbook

There is nothing like an old fashioned cookbook to call upon when you want a basic bread recipe or a how-to-make-gravy recipe.  This was my Gramma's cookbook and she's probably long forgot about it.  I just love glancing through it at the old ads and the recipes have no concern for using fat, salt, carbs, sugar or love.

willowofthewood  The American Woman's Cook Book

Dog-eared and well-inked cook book.  

willowofthewood  The American Woman's Cook Book

 This kills me.  Pigeons?  Who eats pigeons?  Who ate pigeons?  What?  I'm pretty sure I've never even eaten a hard-cooked egg!

willowofthewood  The American Woman's Cook Book

 Avoid those wascally wabbits found in the bushes.  Instead, eat your domesticated pet!  What the ?

willowofthewood  The American Woman's Cook Book

 Oh, man!  This is a hillbilly cookbook, isn't it?  Roasted with bacon fat and the quintessential Worcestershire sauce, of course!

willowofthewood  The American Woman's Cook Book

 How to frost a cake.  "Transformation before your eyes - This Is How It's Done".   This is the 1950s alter-ego of Martha Stewart.

willowofthewood  The American Woman's Cook Book

They had only 2 cookie cutters with shape in the 1950s:  clover leaf and heart.  Oooh, two holidays are covered!

willowofthewood  The American Woman's Cook Book

If popcorn was fun, why were they just learning it was food too?  What were they using it for before eating it?  (p.s. I love the can).

willowofthewood  The American Woman's Cook Book

 My favourite.  There was no description under these lovelies.  Are they figs?  Are they meatballs?  Are they found on an animal in a place we don't want to know about?  It was all about the garnishment in the 1950s.  "Make sure you have a head of iceberg lettuce, a jar of maraschino cherries, and can of pineapple rings on hand at all times to impress your husband!"

willowofthewood  The American Woman's Cook Book

Cooked carrots rolled in breadcrumbs and baked to look like real carrots.  These American Women cook book creators were pure genius!



signed, the willow