Chances are if you have to tell people it is funny....

Chances are if you have to tell people it is funny, it probably isn't funny.

We are knee deep in outdoor projects this weekend, so my eco-Saturday is not too green this weekend. See, we rented a concrete saw that was powered by the most ancient of fossil fuels. And when *Steve* flooded it, he had to drive across to Rona again to find out how to start it. Then he proceeded to cut the driveway with it. Don't ask me why. I don't ask dumb questions anymore. I just put up with it. Welcome to Suburbia.

Oh, and let's not forget that when we had our wood delivered, for our lower level deck, to the wrong house. So, that would mean the driver was now driving around aimlessly looking for our lost wood. Then picking up the lost wood and re-delivering it to our house, the correct house.

So, yes. Our outdoor project has been hard on the ecosystem. I'm sorry environment. We walked 10 km on Thursday to run our errands. I promise I'll make it up to you. As *Steve* is now gasping for air.

signed, the willow

The Haunted Barbie Car

For Christmas this year, *Mila* was lucky enough to receive a remote controlled pink Barbie Corvette. I picked it up for her and her Dad and signed Gramma's name to it. But the darn thing is possessed. It doesn't matter which level of the house we are on, which room. This thing has a mind of its own and drives erratically around the house. Tonight there was a massive freak attack when it wouldn't stop pouncing on the Barbie shoe display case! Back and forth it went 50 times. All the time *Mila* is hunting for the remote control, the dog is being blamed for sleeping on it while pinning her ears back to her skull. Not one of us was touching the remote as the car drove itself. That's not the only thing that reacts on batteries all by itself here, the toy cash register scans items in the middle of the night and sends me into a frenzy. Fortunately, Barbie put an off switch on her Corvette!

signed, the willow (again)

You are what you drive

Classifying people based on the car they drive is easy and not a new concept. It has become a nasty habit of mine lately. I find myself commenting on "Land Rover Mommy" or "Minivan Mom" or my all time fave, "Volvo Power Struggle Mom". We take on a different persona based on our vehicle, don't we? I think if I drove a 1/2 tonne truck I'd wear blue jeans every day and my sweatshirts would come out of hiding and make it downtown on a weekday. If I drove that snazzy BMW that *Steve* wants so badly, my hair would be plastered much closer to my head, my teeth would sparkle and I would say "Now now dear" to *Mila*. What if I drove a station wagon? Just what if? I'd wear the occasional jean, I'd try hard to plaster my hair down , but it would fly away, I'd layer sweater after sweater on both me and my child and my dog would slobber on the window. And that would be me, "Ford Focus Wagon Cool Dude Mom". I still think I'd be the envy of all other mothers if I had a Mazda CX-7, but I can't chat on my cell and drive. In fact, my "cell-o-phone" is part of *Mila's* dress up box when she pretends to be "Land Rover Mommy". She also wears her yoga wear and says "I have to go" an awful lot. I'm very bad, I know.

signed, the willow