All better..

Sasha's vocabulary is growing leaps and bounds...as they say, toddlers at this age are like sponges.

Some words she knows:

Llama, Horsie, Cat (meow), Dog (woof woof), Wolf, Sloth, Ocputus (not a typo), Whale, Bat, Buttew-fly, Ewephant, Zibra, (She watches alot of Diego, Animal Rescuer, a popular cartoon), Milk, Tiger, Juice, Twee, Dowa, Boots, hat, scarf, jacket, Squiwwel, pasta, rice, chicken, ducky, water, boat coat (this is her life jacket that is practically glued on her over the summer), doug, mama, mummy, mom, daddy, baby, downstairs, etc...

She has started speaking in sentences...she will say "Carry you" if she wants us to carry her, "Milk please", although she shouts this so doesnt sound overly polite, "Thank you" and "Yor wecom", "No Dodo!!", "Bye bye (add in Mama, Doug, doggie, other name)", "Change diaper", "Dance Daddy", "More book", "Dini and paci??","Open light", "My chair" (and "My (everything else))", "Again! Again!", and "All better".


I cleaned the house last weekend as we were having guests for dinner. So far we are maintaining status quo..even after Sasha's play date with our neighbour, W. He is getting a younger sibling in late June, so his Mum and I are helping them with sibling expectation management. His Mum, a trained child psychologist who has opted to stay at home, bought him a couple of dolls to prepare him for the new addition. She also believes in gender neutral play. We are also preparing Sash for the arrival, pointing to my tummy and telling her about baby. Unfortunately, she indicated "No baby...doggie". Houston, I think we have a problem...

So in view of this rather momentous house cleaning...I present you, parts of mi now clean casa...the rest of the time we live like slobs






All better...

7-8am this morning...

Our front yard




Our backyard

We woke up to the aftermath of a rather substantial snow dump. But life goes on, and Sasha has to be bundled up for daycare.




And people have to get out to work. The beauty of living in a city that gets lots of snowfall is its capability to handle such things. I read somewhere that TO spent $67 million last year on snow removal etc...

Surprise surprise

I went in for my first consult with my Canadian family doctor this morning. In ON, you have to go through your family doctor for EVERYTHING. For example, before I can get on board with an ob/gyn, I have to have him refer me to my potential or intended ob/gyn. Although all I am actually looking for is a person to catch the baby when it pops out, I have spent the last week calling around for one that is taking in new patients (not alot are..and the ones who are I find suspicious) who will be delivering sometime in the near future. Each receptionist kept asking when I was due..and all I wanted to scream after the third day of calling around is...For Gods sake, thats what I'd like to know!! What made this hunt more difficult was that I was limited to doctors who have attendant rights at hospitals with NICUs (Neonatal intensive care umits), and there are only two in TO. You never know, and i am not taking any chances. I finally found one, but they required a referal asap, with ultrasound and bloodwork. In the US, this was done by my ob/gyn, so this whole system is rather alien to me...oh wait, I am the alien. So in I went this morning. Told me that I had to get blood work and ultrasound done the same morning as he wanted to send the referral tomorrow to ensure that I would meet the quota for the ob/gyn for the month I am supposed to deliver. It has to be said, that while there is no universal healthcare in the US, as insurance holding patients, we were treated like Gods. I feel like I am in a socialist country here, without the two tier health care system.

And so it began. One thing they never tell you about pregnancy is that doctors will be hounding you for blood and urine day and night. Vials and vials of the stuff. After the blood letting, I had to wait an hour and a half for my ultra sound appointment. And in that time I had to fill my bladder. It was touch and go during lunch as I may have filled it way too early..but I held on for the scan. I was rather looking forward to it as I am still in denial about the whole preggy situation and was still kind of hoping that the test we took at home was tainted. Turns out however that in addition to confirming that I am indeed preggy, ultraman declared that I am in my ..wait for it...12th week. I kid you not...here I am thinking I am perhaps 3 weeks pregnant at the most....and my first trimester is over...go figure. I am quite chuffed as I am supposed to present a paper in Amsterdam in mid September, and initially I thought I would have to cancel it seeing as how I may be in the delivery room, but if I really am due in early August then the presentation can still go on..yay.



I introduce you...the second cumming.

Cupcakes

I had an urgent craving for a cupcake this afternoon. Since Doug was at home (the Uni declared an emergency closure at 11.30 this morning), I insisted we walk to my idea of heaven which is 2 blocks away. He was up to walking in a snowstorm, but not for only 1 cupcake. So I had to, was absolutely forced to, get half a dozen. So I chose the Yonge and Eligible, the Curious George, Sleepless in Toronto, Mango Madness, Frost Me and last but not least, the Lemon Drop. Unfortunately, I had to share my stash.



We had some for desert too

I read an article in the paper this morning and I just cannot stop thinking about it. Basically, 2 sisters, one three year old and the other a year old, were found dead in the Prairies frozen to death. In -50 weather, they were found wearing only diapers and T-shirts. Their father had been drinking heavily last Monday night and panicked when something, possibly an illness, struck his youngest daughter just after midnight. With no phone to call for help (they live on a native reserve), he tried to run to his sister's house, 400 metres away, but never made it. He did remember dropping his daughters as he ran. Four hours after he left his home, a hypothermic and frostbitten father crawled to a neighbour's door and banged until someone woke up to help him. The RCMP said that when they arrived, the father couldn't communicate, and it wasn't until eight hours later in hospital that he asked about his daughters, setting off a massive search that led to the discovery of the two bodies. Fuck. Abandoned in -50 weather. Thats all I can say...fuck. I cant even express the sadness that I feel. How they must have suffered. I keep getting these mental pictures of the 2 girls, but with Sasha's face superimposed on theirs. I suspect this story is going to haunt me for a while.

A snowstorm is expected in the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) tomorrow. Aproximately 21 cm of snow expected. The roads will be treacherous and weather conditions dicey. Regardless, even if I have to do it in zero visibility, Sash will be in daycare! Doug is trying to cancel his meetings and we are thinking of postponing a dinner that we are (or maybe were) planning to cook for a couple of visiting fellows from Montreal/Quebec City (I forget). When I say we are cooking dinner, I mean me of course. Doug cant (wont) cook to save his life. Last night I asked him to do me a favour and stir fry some veggies as I had to write the conclusion for the paper. He looked at me like I had asked him to climb Mount Everest stark naked with a carrot up his arse. I told him for Gods sake, slice some onions, heat the oil, cut the veggies intio any shape you want, fry the onions, bung the veggies in, and leave for 2 minutes. How bloody difficult is that? He offered to order take out veggies. I pointed out to him that I cooked the chicken curry and the rice (OK, so the curry was Brahim add water and rice is cooked in rice cooker...but thats not the point...the point is I have a lazy ass husband who refuses to learn how to cook stir fried bok choy)so the least he could do was the veggies. After a few minutes of the deer in oncoming semi headlights look, I gave up and cooked the damn veggies myself. Why oh why couldnt I have hooked up with Jamie Oliver?? Why??

To make up for last night, Doug took charge of dinner tonight. He heated the Seafood Mediterranean chowder, on the stove even, and not in the bottle in the microwave, and put the sushi and sashimi pieces on a plate. We had hot chocolate for dessert. Cant complain I guess...the last time Doug made dinner we had slightly burned popcorn and cold apple pie. There is hope yet...

After reading this article in today's Globe and Mail, I finally decided to bite the bullet and buy a bunch of Bisphenol-A free, non Polycarbonate BornFree bottles from my favourite kiddy shop round the corner. It may all be media hype, but when there is even a slight mention of cancer risk, ADHD risk and other neural, reproductive and developmental problems, it is difficult to ignore. Also, being in academics, we know that whatever research is published in the popular media is probably rather dated and the tip of the Titanic iceberg. Both Doug and I have a family history of cancer, and while it is rather wrenching to buy new, and I must add rather pricey, bottles and sippy cups (whats up with that?? I thought less chemical were used. so shouldn't they be cheaper??), it is a small price to pay for peace of mind. I suppose it does not help that I have a (real) doctor brother in law with toddlers of his own and a father in law in pediatrics who have specifically warned us against warming up our plastic bottles in the microwave. They told us ages ago to warm her milk in glass containers then transfer the milk to her bottle. Since their warning, we have been doing this up til today, which I must admit is a bit of a bitch at 5.30 in the morning. Luckily the warning came pretty soon after Sasha switched to whole milk, which was when we started warming up her milk in her bottles in the microwave. Before that, we used water at room tempreture to mix her formula. Todays warning about bottles exposed to boiling water was I suppose the straw that broke the cheap camel's back. When I say wrenching, you have no idea to what extent. In my morbid fear of having to deal with colic, I used a variety of bottles from Avent, Dr Brown and Playtex inserts, in the hope that at least one of them will help prevent the dreaded sleep thief. I must add that in addition to variety, I bought in bulk as I hate doing dishes as much as the next person. Sasha of course did not get colic and I have a cupboard full of bottles (well, used to..I now have to learn to deal with only 4).


And did I mention all the sippy cups, both normal drip free and insulated ones with characters on them? So I also bought a non-leaching stainless steel sippy cup for Sash (in gender neutral green, so the bambino will be able to use it later). I now have to decide whether I should call a local Goodwill to ask whether they will accept these items as I hate to see them go to waste. Having said that, knowing that I dont find these bottles and cups safe enough for my own child, how can I in good conscience pass them on to another child? I discussed this with the proprietor of the kiddy shop and she mentioned that she donated them to Goodwill as many parents in TO cant even afford basic baby equipment such as bottles, what more the more expensive less toxic ones. I am still undecided about this and will have to discuss this with D, although I know he will not want to pass on unsafe items to any child. On the bright side, I can stick the bottle in the microwave tomorrow morning!

I have just finished vacuuming the house. Ok, technically only parts of the ground floor and the basement. Parts I can see. I decided in late 2007 that I am going to be less anal about the mess of a house. Whats the point? Doug dumps his running clothes everywhere else other than the 2 laundry baskets in the house (he can run for miles, but God forbid he has to walk 3 extra steps to the basket)and Sasha, well, you would think that by the age of 2 a human being would be able to put away toys in a color coordinated fashion...sigh...not as evolved unfortunately. So, there you go. To maintain my sanity, I will learn to live in filth. If my family cannot evolve, I will devolve to their level.

Doug and I are working on another paper, which is due 1 Feb, so yet again Sasha has been put on the back burner. She is usually the first to be sent to daycare, and the last to be picked up. You can just see the look of disapproval on J's face as she knows I don't work, I only have one kid at home (we haven't told her about the bub, although we will have to soon to book her space at daycare), and yet am the one parent most filled with glee (and relief) as I take about 3 seconds to dump Sash off. Of course after 2 weeks of being totally absorbed in hedge fund regulation, we sort of accidentally glance away from our laptop screens and finally notice Sash's glazed-TV overdosed-eyes and feel a sharp pang of guilt. So, yesterday, to assuage our guilt, we took an afternoon off to walk to a nearby educational toy store and bought her some crayons, a pad of coloured paper, a little magnetic chalk and dry erase board with colourful magnetic letters of the alphabet and numbers from Melissa and Doug (I love their toys!), and some glow in the dark stars for Sash's ceiling(she loves stars!). Sasha chose a couple of Dora books for herself. We then walked to a restaurant, Spring Rolls, for a late lunch. I have been meaning to try out the restaurant as my dry cleaners, who are originally Malaysian, mentioned that the resto is owned by a Malaysian. I tried their nasi goreng and was impressed. I usually don't bother ordering anything which is labelled Malaysian as I am usually inevitably sorely disappointed, but in this case, I will go back (or have them deliver) and try their other dishes. Their spring rolls..yummy. I am rather relieved to have found a more than half-decent pseudo Malaysian resto within walking distance as I have been craving and dreaming of Malaysian food. I swear, last night I dreamt of fried Kuey Teow. I know, I know, I have friends who suggest that I just cook the stuff. I know I can, as I have been raised to believe that I can do anything, but I just couldn't be buggered. Its like I know I can be an astronaut (well, other then the whole motion sickness and fear of being blown up to smithereens issue), but I just couldn't be buggered to go through the whole process. I will wait for space travel to be cheaper and less strenuous, just as I will wait for my fried kueh teow. After lunch, we walked home, installed Sash's stars, read her books, taught her the alphabets (I am still not sure which I prefer, to have her learn the alphabets first or learn to put away her toys) and introduced her to the potty. On advice from J, who will continue with the potty training when the time comes, we have a seat insert instead of a separate potty for her training sessions. This way she will not be afraid of the real adult sized toilet bowl. Her insert is lime green and has pictures of the characters from Backyardigans. Unfortunately, she freaked out initially as we placed her on the toilet. It may be she was just afraid of the whole new experience, or it may be she freaked out about putting her ass on Tyrone, Pablo and Tasha. We will never know. So we sat, all three and an eighth, in the toilet, reading her book and reassuring her that peeing is fun. After 10 minutes, she finally peed. Her first pee...we clapped and cheered like it was her bloody college convocation...and waited for her to poo. After another 10 minutes of nothing and endless cheering on, we thought of taking our laptops into the toilet as there is really a limit to how fun you can make a shitting experience fun. We decided instead to just call it a day, let Sasha hang out in the basement, and continue working.

I was just reading yet another article on fundamentalist terrorism in a newspaper and as is usually the case, the journo touched on this quest to get to endless numbers of virgins in heaven. I sometimes wonder why anyone would want to have an endless supply of virgins. I mean, let us assume these suicidal psychos are young, impressionable, unmarried (presumably virgin) young men. If it were me, instead of having inexperienced, novice virgins fulfil the dreams that I am staking my life on, I would probably want the most nasty arsed most expensive call girls heaven can come up with. Throw in a couple of porn stars and I will be golden. Makes me wonder if the eternity of fumbling will be their just deserts.

As I type this, I am waiting for the Malaysia Airlines reservation agent in New York, who I am speaking to over Skype, to fax me a confirmation for my miles redemption and email me my payment options for our flights from Kuala Lumpur to Langkawi in April. Ah, the wonders of being connected. It is taking longer than usual as I had totally forgotten that Sash will be visiting with her Tok and Nenek while we are in Langkawi (Thank you Tok and Nenek for agreeing to grandbaby-sit!)and went through the whole booking process for her seat. The agent must must have thought I was absolutely barmy as I exclaimed "Oh wait..no...I forgot..we are not dragging her along this time!".

I was re-reading Vet in Harness by James Herriot in bed last night. It made me crave for roast beef sandwiches at 11.40pm. As I read, I just had to share this passage with Doug.

"Anybody who has ever walked a dog knows the abiding satisfaction which comes from giving pleasure to a loved animal, and the sight of the little form trotting ahead of me lent a depth which had been missing before".

We both agreed that it brought to mind our walks with Sash.

I have just finished these three books. Read them concurrently. Funny, a week ago I didn't think I could fit in reading anything not related to work/VC/PE, but with just a bit of tweaking with Sasha's schedule, I can now read!! Not just occupational reading, but recreational reading. Yay. Let me explain.



Sash has issues with sleeping alone. Our fault of course as she used to sleep in our communal bed. Now she has her own bed, in her own room, and she no longer likes ours. But that doesn't mean she no longer likes sleeping with us. So we usually take turns putting her down. This used to be chore as it takes her ages to settle down. She will first want to drink a bottle of milk, then read a few books, then play with her lamp, then read some other books, ask for another bottle of milk (distractional request), then she will try and "sneak" out of the room (she is as yet unclear of the concept that even when she does not look at me, I can still see her). We used to have to lie down for an hour to 90 minutes with her in the dark, trying to stay awake, bored stiff and resenting the whole child rearing experience. Last week I figured that with the new kid coming along, things will have to change. So instead of lying down with her, I sit in the glider in her room and read while she settles down. She still sees this as a license to carry out the same sleep-avoiding tactics, but usually after the third time I pick her up screaming and shouting, dump her into bed and scream "DODO" (she is in a French daycare so we use some French baby-words), she gets the idea and drifts off to sleep. Mind you, we start this exercise at 9pm and she sleeps by 10.30pm, but this is much more tolerable with my being able to get in some reading.


I couldn't put Persepolis 1 and 2 down. Intriguing, enchanting, and it made me think. I think about the Iran that I know from the media,that I think I know. I think about the Malaysia that I know, and what is reflected in the media. Disturbing similarities. Both situations not even remotely comparable (yet), but any ghost of a similarity is disturbing enough. When a reference to the year 2000 came up in A Thousand Splendid Suns, it made me think about what I was doing on the days leading up to New Years Eve 2000. I was preocupied with what to wear to a party. The characters were starving. I sometimes wonder if my luck will run out..

It is quite obvious that Sasha is half-Canadian. She loves the snow. She loves stepping in it, playing with it, rolling around in it. Good thing she does as a favourite pastime of Wpg-ers is tobogganing. Instead of ordinary slides in park playgrounds, they have toboggan runs. These pics were taken by Sasha's Aunt K as her Daddy would not have missed the action for anything. I was at home, warm and cozy. Didn't see the need for the whole family to freeze.



Although it must be said that it is quite obvious that one specific family member actually enjoys being frozen....


I have been busy online checking on flights, hotels, resorts etc for a holiday (or rather a visit) in KL in April. We as a family have done this many times but this time FIL is tagging along. So it has become slightly more complicated. Due to his recent surgery we felt it best to travel together so we can help him along the way. So instead of flying from TO, we are flying out of North America via Vancouver. What was initially planned to be a direct flight has taken a slight turn as there is a conference he would like to attend in HK. He would also like to experience the Malaysian beaches his son raves about...but he is not really a beach-y person and not overly mobile so it cant be an island with nothing else to do but laze. He might also want to check out the night safari in Singapore. Did I mention that this is to be done over 2 weeks? I have come to the conclusion that I will never ever wish to be a travel agent.

So I am looking at Langkawi, or Penang. And I am quickly realizing that since I left KL in 2003, either Malaysians are becoming very rich or the resorts are now way beyond the reach of ordinary working folks. Seriously. I am not even looking at the Four Seasons. The nicer hotels on Feringhi Beach in Penang which I fondly remember during those girly summer breaks in Uni days are now in the four figure range. And you cant even swim in the sea water there. The nicer hotels on Langkawi also start in the four figure range. Some do have decent deals, but only for the cheapest (ie no view, next to karaoke lounge) rooms. Which leads me to think that a normal middle class family in KL could either save for a couple of years to have a nice holiday or settle for a run down 3 star and below hotel, like the back-packers do. A friend recommended that I just take my FIL to Bali or Phuket as it is cheaper and they also cater for Asians, and not only for Europeans/North Americans. But I cant, can I? He wants to see where his dot-in-law was raised, to meet her family. He wants to see where his grand-dot spends her time every year. He wants to experience what his son has experienced. Now, if I had been a Thai foot masseuse I would not have this problem...

Sasha Multi-tasking

This is for Sasha's Tok. To further elaborate Tok, this was how your grandaughter entertained herself at her Grandpa's house over the Christmas period...she multi-tasked

I have been a neglectful blogger. I have no excuse other than being an excellent procrastinator. It is said procrastination is the thief of time. How true that is. Already it is mid-January and I cant say that I have done or achieved anything of note. I have my to do list somewhere, andI have been meaning to look for it..but you know, the whole procrastinating thing I mentioned earlier..

I should add though that I suspect that my mind has turned to mush because I am preggers again. Yup, as they say, the Sperminator has struck again. Unlike the first time around, it is taking a bit more time for us to let this news really sink in. We are happy that we are preggers, and we have been planning to provide Sash a sibling, but I think it is becoming more obvious that our lives will change yet again, just as we were finally settling down from the upheaval of Sash's babyhood. I know, I know, we had it pretty easy and I am the first to admit that I am an ungrateful little drama queen for making a mountain out of a mole hill, considering Sash was, and still is, an easy going, happy baby. But to be honest, I do find the whole baby rearing period just alot of work with no reward as in my experience, a baby is essentially a blobs who eats, poos and keep you up all night. I much prefer the toddler stage, when they can understand your instructions, and they can at least contribute to the conversation, even though it takes me 5 minutes to understand what Sash is saying. I suppose though to achieve this more entertaining toddler, we as parents must endure the babyhood. So, I suppose I should warn you dear reader that if you are expecting the whole "I love being pregnant, motherhood is the end all and be all of my life and babies are miracles" type of blog for the next few months, you will be sorely dissapointed. I hate being pregnant, I think motherhood is a chore, and babies are messy..and I will be venting. I hope this next one is a girl though as I have no idea what to do with Sash's old clothes if a boy pops out.

So now I have to find that to do list to add one more note...to find an Ob/Gyn that is accepting new patients, within walking distance or within walking distance of a subway station, and one who will not stop me from flying after my fifth month.

Watch this space

Doug and I are frantically trying to finish up a book we are contractually bound to deliver by midnight 31 Dec...we have a few more chapters to go. Sash has been strapped in front of the TV and forced to watch that screen while we watch our laptop screens (poor kid). We will hopefully resurface on 1 Jan, say hello to Sash, and update this blog. In the meantime, Happy New Year and may 2008 bring you joy, laughter and peace.

Green

Sash's favourite word of the month is green...

Note: The link will take you to Google videos

Stormy weather: Part II

I have been shovelling, just so that when Doug gets home he will be able to reach the door...

So far I have shovelled the driveway twice. That mound of snow you see, that's not even the half of it. The other half is on my neighbour's yard. I know, I know, I am breaching snow shovelling etiqutte, but I will plead ignorance based on the fact in KL there are only 2 seasons..wet and dry. Also they have left for Florida for Christmas. I hope it rains. I know, not very Chrismassy of me but it is still snowing outside and evidence of my shovelling is dissapearing by the minute. Doug's flight was delayed but he arrived a few minutes ago and now he is in line with 100 other people waiting for a cab. I would go pick him up but then I would have to shovel the car out...so..hmm..

Stormy weather

There must be 12 inches of snow out there. It has been snowing non-stop since yesterday, although it was not as bad yesterday. I can barely look outside the window with visibility so bad. Doug is supposed to be arriving this afternoon, although from the looks of things I doubt the plane will be able to land. I shovelled twice yesterday, the first time while Sasha was taking her nap, and the second I just bundled her up and dragged her outside. I am not even going to bother this morning. I might lose her in the storm. As it is she did a face plant in one of my snow banks, which she thoroughly enjoyed. They are reporting that TO will not be getting a white Christmas this year. How can that be? Even if it doesn't snow on the day, how is the 3 feet of snow on my lawn going to melt in time? If it is, then why the hell am I shovelling? I think we shall just wait for D to get home...how are we going to entertain ourselves in the meantime Sash?

My birthday is coming up. When I was little I used to think that the whole Christmas hullaballooo was all about me. I was pretty narcissistic then...and maybe a tad now. Just a tad. Granted, back when I was a mere sapling Christmas wasn't celebrated on such a grand scale in Malaysia. There were no expensive set dinner menus in restaurants, no Christmas sales, and definitely no trees sold at Ikea. But there were still celebrations held at hotels and such. My Mum did not cook so we would eat at Holiday Inn (then a posh hotel) ALOT if the maid went AWOL, hence I remember a couple of kiddie Christmas parties there, or what I took to be the run up to my birthday. The funny thing is we never celebrated my birthday on my birthday. No one was ever around. I could also never have the whole attention getting birthday party in school because there was no school. So I don't really know how I got the idea that the whole festive shebang was for me, but I just did. The same sort of anti-climax applies today. The whole run up to Christmas/my birthday is the fun part, but once you hit the day itself it sort of becomes a lunch bag let down. Usually everyone, including myself, is all partied out by Christmas morning. So can you imagine how difficult it is to keep up the momentum one more day.

And those who celebrate birthdays close to or on extremely commercialized holidays will understand me when I say I never get as many presents as everyone assumes I do. No, I do not get the Christmas present and the birthday present the next day..I get an all in one. If I am lucky I get 2 presents rolled up in 1...usually it is 1 present for 2 occasions, so technically I only get half presents. This is done best by my darling husband who bless his heart is extremely generous, but cheap. He proposed on Christmas so that year I didn't even get a 2 in one..it was a 3 in one. This year we are getting the painting (delivery and hanging on Monday..yay), so instead of buying silly gifts for each other (which I like) we get something we can keep for a very long time (although I have tried to argue that handbags can last just as long). But I have just realized that he probably also means that the painting is also my birthday present, so technically he has 1 occasion invested in it while I have 2. He's done it again! But I shouldn't complain..we bought Sasha books for Christmas, we have read them to her many times, and we are going to wrap them again for her to open..hahahahaha...poor kid. But at least her birthday is in April.

Comments please

What do you think of this painting? It is a 43" x 48" oil on canvas. Seriously, comments would be appreciated. Please note, I did not paint this (so if you totally detest it, go ahead)..but I am interested in getting it. However, as many who know me will attest, my art appreciation skills are underwhelming. I love this painting though. I really do. I plan on hanging it opposite my bed so I can pretend that it is a window, and I can enjoy the play of light daily. I used to wake up to another beautiful painting when I used to live with my parents, cant describe it really,but it was dark and rather abstract. I loved that too. I used to wonder why I liked it so much, but I guess I was in a pretty dark place then.

I just hope D likes it as much as I do. He has not seen it other than on the gallery website. He left the gallery before we got to see this particular painting for an appointment, leaving me alone to find this treasure. He will be back from Cambers on Sunday, and if I want that painting I should get it soon. If you think we have difficulty choosing furniture, you should be a fly on the wall when we look for art (well, actually this is the first time we are buying a real, serious, painting together, as we also consider posters from museums art if framed properly). He likes things big, and vibrant, whereas I prefer the more understated classic that creates an impact. He thinks a painting is only a painting if it is a landscape, and the more realistic the better. Oh, and it has to be Fall scenery, or winter. I hate winter landscapes as most of the canvas is white..whats up with that? And I dont like paintings that are too red, or yellow. So imagine us in a gallery as one goes ooooh, and the other ugh. When one asks if they had the same painting, but bigger, while the other asks to see more blues please. He wants to see strong brush strokes, I like Dutch style strokes (dont ask me to elaborate, remember my underwhelming knowledge of art). I think this will be a good compromise because well, I like it..so he should be nice and compromise. It is after all my time of year.

The dark side...

As with most of the web-aware, I have a profile on Facebook. I seek and collect friends; I post on walls. I don't really have time to participate in the fun stuff like adding the applications, vampire related activities and/or join the various groups I am invited to join, but I try to stay current. It has been fun... until today.

Today I was brusquely rejected, or rather my invitation to become a friend was ruthlessly rejected by someone I thought would appreciate the invitation. I found out this morning, and immediately commenced the five steps of grief. Yes, I may be a bit of a drama queen here, but it is MY blog. Anyway, I went into denial. No, no, how can this be? I cannot be rejected. He must have clicked on the wrong button. Or maybe it was another person with the same name. How can this be? (I get repetitive when in denial). Why would anyone reject a Facebook friend invitation? This went on for a few hours, as I then progressed to anger. Prickhead. You broke up with me so how can you be angry with me??! Dufus. And that's the reason we broke up. Idiot. This didn't last long as I can never stay angry for long. I started thinking that if I stopped thinking of exes as prickheads and dufuses I may have a better chance of beating my brother's 300 gazillion friends (How does he do this? All his exes are his friends..). Post milliseconds of bargaining (I figured God would have more than enough on his plate to bother with my offer of a deal), I started feeling depressed about the rejection. Was it such a bad breakup that prickhead would reject my web induced olive branch even today when we have presumably matured. Am I such a bad person, so thoroughly despised? Not many people are despised in this world..unliked, hated, but not despised. And one has to be despised to be rejected like this.

And this went on until about lunchtime. So after much consideration and reflection, I finally accepted that some people, especially Mr Fell of the ugly tree and broke every branch, will remain the dick heads that they are. I have moved on to bigger and brighter (Take THAT you friend rejector!) and I should not waste another minute on this person..as those minutes are better spent looking for other potential friends.

Yet another weekend nearly over

We have had a busy weekend. On Friday night we had a couple and their 12 year old son over for dinner. We had dinner at theirs a few weeks ago and we wanted to reciprocate their warm hospitality. It is getting increasingly difficult to have a dinner party with Sash wanting our attention all the time. We can just about get her to sit in front of the TV in the basement by herself for the salad course, but after that it sort of progresses into chaos if attention is not given. When she was younger we could set her on the floor or in her jumper in the dining room, but now she either wants one of us to accompany her in the basement or she will start playing with the cutlery on the table, mimicking our actions. It is getting to the point where only one of us can be at the table at any one time, so we have this sort of tag team routine when it comes to entertaining the guests. I must say we are getting rather good at picking up the conversation from where the other left off. Sometimes we wonder why we even go through the hassle of entertaining at home, but other than sitting at home our lonesome selves for the next 10 years, what choice do we have? So we keep on tagging...

This morning was different. We had our four neighbour families over for Christmas brunch, to start off the season. L (Model),R (retired ballet star) and Stella (14 months) from across the street; W (VP), M (Producer) and Jordon (16 months) who live directly next to L, R, and Stella; V (Lawyer), H (architect), and Spencer (6 months) who live directly next to us; and R (ex-teacher), K (Trader), and Walker (18 months) who live 2 houses down, came over to enjoy fruit salad, pastries, sausages, quiche, freshly squeezed orange juice, and copious amounts of coffee.

The house was packed to the brim but we had so much fun just enjoying a nice Sunday morning together, watching the snow fall outside..ok, cursing the snow outside. I find that brunch is perfect for having young families over. The food can be made (ok, admittedly bought ready made) bite-sized so Mummy and Daddy can eat while running after junior, it is that time right before nap time so kids are not so cranky, and everyone has the rest of the day to do whatever they want to do. As we have no family nearby, occasions like this are as close to family gatherings as we can get. Sash had so much fun she had to go outside in her new hat to wish everyone bye bye..

Trash

On a related note, the black trash bin is a new addition to the family. We inherited the green compost bin and blue recycling bin from previous owners. We bought the grey bin when we moved in to act as a trash bin, and leaves and trimmings were placed in a paper bag bought at the store in packs of 5 for I guess around 3 dollars. A few weeks ago we were informed that our street has been chosen to take part in a pilot programme to test out new black trash bins. The city is planning to charge for trash disposal to encourage recycling and composting. Collection of the smallest bin will be free, while larger sizes will be charged on an annual basis..basically they have yet again found an indirect way to tax us. We chose the medium sized bin as the smallest would have been ridiculously small for 2 weeks worth of garbage. The neighbours are however not very happy with this. It seems this street almost always gets chosen for pilot projects. Like when they introduced the large blue recycling bins. Before that they relied on small blue crates. And before that, grey crates. So if you have been living here long enough, you have all these outdated containers that you cannot get rid of. Yup, the city gives you all these bins, but dont tell you how to bin all the other bins. Try putting them on the driveway..you will be told off for not having rubbish out. This is especially inconvenient as most of the houses only have mutual driveways so you have up to 8 bins lined up in a narrow driveway. We are lucky as we have a private driveway but we still have a line of bins standing at attention, providing a playground for pesky racoons. Did I mention that TO is the racoon capital of the world? We have to secure our bins with bungee cords as they have learned to get to the garbage regardless of whatever clasp you have on the bins. Trash is such a messy issue....





This is how Sasha goes to day care on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Poor kid loves being outdoors but hates being bundled up. And I hate spending 10 minutes coaxing her into snow pants, sweater, scarf, hat/hood, jacket, gloves, socks and snow boots. Then after putting on my gear, and arriving at day care, taking them all off again. And we do this when we go out in the garden too..

Environmental anxiety

Do you get environmentaly anxious? I do. Once in a while I wonder whether I am doing all that I can do. I think I am. But am I?

I try to divert as much as I can. I place the recyclables in the Blue Bins, the compostable matter and diapers in the green bins (used paper towels are compostable too), and leaves and trimmings go in the grey bins. The fact that garbage is placed in the small black bin and collected every 2 weeks of course encourages me to divert our outgoings as much as possible. I use cloth carriers when shopping and try not to use plastic bags, unless I need them to use as trash liners then I collect what I need for the month. I do this also because I have no space for all those pesky bags. I shop locally to minimise my carbon footprint. Well, also because I hate driving and I like to walk to the shops. We bought this house to be on the subway line so we would be able to rely on only one car. So OK, this is also because I hate to drive and I like being 7 stops from the main sights and attractions. We have a zippy all wheel drive car, not a gas guzzling SUV. This is of course also because the car is paid for and suits us fine. So I start to think..am I really being environmentally friendly or am I just assuaging my environmental guilt with these half arsed deeds. Should I be doing things that would inconvenience me more? Should I stop travelling or flying? Well, I cant do that because my staying put anxiety will definitely trounce environmental anxiety. Should I stop flushing? I tried that..then felt anxious whenever we had visitors wanting to use the loo. Should I lower the thermostat to save energy? We already do that and any lower I will be on the first flight out to Florida. Energy saving bulbs? They are getting better but still not out of the public loo mood of lighting. We use halogen inside, energy saving ones outside, LED Christmas lights and dimmers on almost all fixtures. We use environmentally friendly cleaners and double concentrated cold water detergent. What else can I do? Any suggestions?

White Sunday

We put up the tree just in time for the White weekend...

We finally put up the tree tonight. After dinner, we dug up our box of ornaments in the loft, retrieved our tree (pre-lit) from the shed, and started piling on the festive cheer. Last year we had the boxes stacked in our living room, then flew off to KL before we had time to even think of putting the tree up. Tonight it felt like we were looking at all our ornaments collected for the first time.

My personal favourite

Bought these in Delft, May 2007

Shopping..

I have been going through our Christmas shopping list, which is unusually long this year as we are heading back to Doug's hometown. He has 6 brothers and sisters and 14 nieces and nephews....wait..make that 16..his sibling just remarried. Usually the siblings draw a name each so only one gift has to be bought, but we know from past experience that a majority will buy Sash a gift (beauty of being youngest baby niece..the women in the family cant help themselves from buying cute-sy pink or cuddly stuff). So we suppose we should get each kiddie a small gift considering Doug without fail fails to remember their birthdays, and he has not been back for family Christmas since 2003. I have spent the last few days trying to figure out whether a 12 year old (or is she 14...too late to ask "By the way sweetie, how old are you?") would rather have a doll or a pretty shirt...but what size would a 5'10" 12 year old (or 14..or 11??)wear? Maybe a book? What do teenage girls read nowadays? Can she read?? I am thinking of pleading cultural difference, tell them in Malaysia cash is king, and fork over some hard currency. I have however bought Sasha the most adorable summer dress and a tank top for myself. Did I mention that FIL has heat on full blast in his house (along with remote controlled gas fireplace) so while it will be -30 Celsius outside during Christmas, we will most probably be walking around in our T-shirts inside, as we did last week. Hmm, maybe I should just buy a bunch of T shirts for everyone...wont the 4 year olds love that.

I like this season of giving. Yes, I find that it can be over commercialised and superficial, but then isn't everything what you make of it? What we have to remember is that gifts don't have to be extravagant or expensive to be appreciated, they have to be thoughtful. It is the time spent thinking about what you know about the person you are buying for, his/her likes and dislikes, and finding something that will tickle his/her fancy. It gives me an opportunity to think about someone, to recall a snippet of time spent together or a conversation. Sort of like Thanksgiving...in my own warped way. It is not the cost of something that touches me when I unwrap a present, it is the time spent by the person thinking of what to buy and the time spent purchasing it..or making it. It is of course a given that I will not turn down arbitrarily bought diamonds, but I will as equally appreciate a homemade bookmark..(now, which book is that bookmark in..). So while I whinge about the shopping, I am grateful that I have people in my life to think about fondly as I shop.

On a tangent, I am now a member of a blogging family. My dad has started a blog, and so has my sis. I love the fact that family happenings are just a click away.

On another tangent, we are hosting a brunch this Saturday. Have to learn how to make or figure out where to buy homemade like quiche by Friday night.

On yet another tangent...this world has gone absolutely insane. For fucks sake, it is a fucking teddy bear. Not even a stuffed pig, or dog. A stupid bleeding stuffed bear given one of, if not The most, popular name on this planet. I think that it is not she that should be charged with inciting religious hatred..it should be the stupid people pressing these charges as they are definitely proving yet again to the world how stupendously menacing a few intolerants can be.... For fucks sake...

Toes in...

I have been dipping my toes into the employment market so to speak. I have sent out a few CVs, looked at the classifieds, google searched, looking out for something I might want to do. I have of course applied for positions in business schools/law schools within a 30 minute radius. Was contemplating applying to one 90 minutes away, but as much as I would have liked the position the commute would drive me insane. Thing is, academic positions usually start in in July..and to wait for a chance at a call back in a few months is just too risky. So a hunting I go..

I went for my first interview with a financial services recruiter this afternoon. He was given the mandate to fill a position for a Fund. The job sounded interesting. The interview went very well. He admitted that he found my CV intriguing and my person, well, personable. Only catch..I was over qualified for the job. Yup...I never thought I would hear those words, but I just did..a couple of hours ago. Over qualified. And there I was thinking...but why am I here? So, we spent the next hour discussing what I can do, how I can fit in the Canadian market, and just generally shooting the breeze. We discussed my weakness, which is that I am not a "real" lawyer, and neither am I a true finance person. I am that in-between, with a PhD, moving from another country, and with a rather colourful educational background. He was helpful, and he intends to help me with my quest for employment. Not a great start, but a start nonetheless.

During the interview, he suggested that I look into working with the Ontario government. It seems they need people like me to help in making public policy decisions, providing that bridge between the public and private interest, or rather helping the public not get screwed by the private and their expensive lawyers. Unfortunately government bodies are too cheap to hire head hunters so he could not help me out there. I don't know what to do first, look up the government site or rent the West Wing DVDs..now, if the Ontario policymakers look anything like Rob Lowe..

Postscript: Better luck next time

The Bombers lost. It was close. But close aint gonna get you the Grey Cup ring buddy! On a bright note, we had excellent nosh. Crudites and dip, some cheese concoction with crackers, yummy beef stew and mushrooms wiped up with home made bread, and vanilla ice cream heaped on to a slab of fresh apple pie (apples grown in Aunt H's garden).

It was quite strange watching the Bombers play as the team comprised mainly blacks (although you can say blacks here..but not in the US..well, not anymore). I had to ask Doug and Aunt H whether the players were imported. They believed most were Americans. They asked why I was asking. I told them on my few brief visits here I have yet to see a black (or is it African Canadian?) person. They reassured me there were..but I noticed a glint of uncertainty in their eyes...like they were trying to figure out when they had seen one last. I am sure there must be...about the same number to make up a football team.

Grey Cup: Go Bombers!

Today is the Canadian equivalent of the American Superbowl. They call it the Grey Cup. The Winnipeg Bombers are playing the Saskatchewan team, so suffice it to say it is a BIG DEAL here. Watching Canadian football is right up there with a trip to the dentist for me. Not on par, but up there. Doug's Aunt H has however invited us to a Grey Cup party she is hosting. Doug, Sash and I will be the only guests. FIL's friend is hosting a party at his home in the country. A group of them are going in style, in a stretch limo. I told you it is a big deal here.

Doug spent the morning looking through trash. Sasha has this new thing about helping me out, and that means helping me "clean up". I have been looking for my mobile phone for the past 3 days. Doug has been looking for a speed skating medal that he wants to take home to ours. The trash was the last resort. He spent 10 minutes in the freezing cold going through week old trash. He found both items in the third bag. He has warned FIL that if he has misplaced anything, to just bill him because he is NOT going through the rest of the trash.

Sash loves reading Pooh before her nap..or as she calls him, Pu

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Winnie the Bear as a cub - with an unidentified Canadian soldierWinnipeg (or "Winnie") was the name given to a female black bear that lived at London Zoo from 1915 until her death in 1934.

She was bought as a small cub for $20 (probably from the hunter who had shot her mother) at a stop in White River, Ontario, by Lt Harry Colebourn of The Fort Garry Horse, a Canadian cavalry regiment, en route to the Western Front during the First World War. The bear was smuggled into Britain as an unofficial regimental mascot. Lt. Colebourn, the regiment’s veterinarian named her after his home city of Winnipeg in Manitoba. Before leaving for France, Colebourn left Winnie at London Zoo.

Winnipeg's eventual destination was to be the Assiniboine Park Zoo in Winnipeg, but at the end of the War, Colebourn decided to allow her to remain at the London Zoo, where she was much loved for her playfulness and gentleness. Among her fans was A. A. Milne's son Christopher Robin, who named his own teddy bear “Winnie” - thus giving Winnie-the-Pooh his name.

The story of Winnie the bear has been portrayed in the 2004 movie, A Bear Called Winnie starring Michael Fassbender as Harry Colebourn. A statue of Winnie and Captain Colebourn stands in Assiniboine Park in Winnipeg.

Just another day in the land of Pooh..

FIL is in the kitchen having a chat with the cleaning lady. Sash is down for her nap. I am waiting for lunch. Doug is buying Christmas lights. Just another day in Pooh-land.

Family members have been calling up on a daily basis, concerned about the workload we have taken on taking care of the "cranky patient". We brush off their concerns. Not because we are polite, or want to reassure them that their Dad is in good hands, but because it really isn't much work. We all wake up by 10am, and FIL is just happy with eggs on toast. I suppose when you live alone having company for breakfast is the treat, not the eggs sunny side up. We hang about while Sash goes through her Christmas present stash. Yes, she has found her grandfather's stash and he has, after watching her drag around unopened boxes of whatever noisy toy for days, grudgingly allowed her to open one toy. Did I mention that FIL is a Scot/Canadian therefore somewhat frugal, but loves sales so he stocks up his Christmas presents extremely early. We are quite happy that she has only opened one because the toys we buy her are usually educational, preferably not requiring the use of batteries. We find however the toys she receives from others gobble up batteries and have no volume control...like this one she has just opened which is a Toddler karaoke set which plays 10 songs sung by irritating cartoon characters in disco beat. This one will definitely be left behind when we fly back to Toronto this Monday. FIL bought the darn thing and he is jolly well going to suffer along with the rest of us when she plays with it.

Lunch is soup and toast. Without fail. So it takes me 3 minutes to prepare. Now, if I had a Malay FIL I would probably have to make bubur (rice porridge) or at least curry and veggie to accompany rice. I like this soup in microwave business. Oh yes, and the toast.

I cooked dinner the first few days we were here. Nothing much, steak and potatoes, spaghetti bolognese, that sort of thing. Now that FIL is somewhat on the mend we have eaten out for the past three days. Doug thinks he likes eating out when we are around because he does not get to often enough as he lives alone, and as a rather frugal Scot (I am being nice here. The stories Doug tells me about his Dad's cheapness are legendary) he cannot justify eating out on his own. I think it is because he does not like my cooking. Am I insulted? Hell no. I like eating out. We are going to a nice Thai place tonight. FIL loves the "traditionally Thai" lychee smoothie. He takes pride in his adventurous excursions into ethnic restaurants. It is my responsibility to order the blandest dish on the menu for him.

And then we have breakfast again the next morning...So you see, there really is nothing to it.

It has been snowing here in Winnipeg. So far only a light covering on the ground. I love the fine blanket of "fresh" that such snow brings, hiding the brown grass, the concrete sidewalks and accentuating the tips of the evergreen. I am very content staying indoors with the fire going and hot chocolate on call.

FIL is doing great and in good spirits considering what he has been through. I cannot imagine what it must be like to be in continuous pain, the type of pain that only major surgery can hopefully repair. FIL is an amazing man. I haven't known him for long but I sense in him a strong sense of pride that to him asking for help just signals defeat. I think the physical pain is nothing compared to the pain he feels asking us for help when he needs carry out mundane acts such as pulling up his boxers properly, or plugging in the high tech ice pack for his shoulders (ice water pumped directly into a shoulder pack). Sasha is just having a great time going through "new" drawers and rearranging the knock knacks.

When we arrived on Friday we were informed that FIL's best friend, whom he has known for 70 odd years, passed away. This friend taught Doug how to play the piano, how to fish, and was basically a fixture in the family. The funeral is being held today. I helped FIL type the eulogy and email it to the Reverend. I am again amazed with all that has happened since last Wednesday, he is still in good spirits and only really griping about how user unfriendly his new flat screen HD TV is. and yes, Sasha is really enjoying her cartoons in HD.

Uggs

I did it. A few days ago. I bought my first pair of UGGs. I have never actually wanted to own a pair. Not being a fan, especially after seeing all those Hollywood types wear them in magazines. I mean seriously, shearling boots for Californian weather. But in preparation for my visit to Winnipeg tomorrow I figured I needed proper winter boots, comfortable ones, to keep my little toes intact without looking like I am walking apres ski. I must say that after wearing them for the past few days I can safely say that they are ugly as hell, but by golly are they comfortable. I never want to take them off. Like wearing bedroom slippers, but outside. I want to wear them with shorts in the Summer, they are that comfortable.

I must add that I bought them at a children's shoe store. The kiddie versions are identical to theirm Mummy versions, but 100 dollars cheaper (well, in Canadian dollars at least). I love a bargain.

Weekends..

It has been a normal weekend to ourselves. I have a weekend routine, which has to just has to start with reading the Sunday...I mean...Saturday papers.



In Toronto, the "fun" papers are read on Saturday. Having lived in KL, England, the US and Australia (I could not read the papers in the Netherlands, which was horribly isolating), I have been so accustomed to getting my weekly news round-up along with the latest in lifestyle and arts on Sunday. And yes, I confess..the latest gossip (News of the World cannot be beaten in this regard). It was quite a shock to my weekend routine when I first tried buying the papers on my first Sunday here (huh, why only one paper on sale and why so few sections?). I quickly realised that the Saturday edition was the way to go..but then, what the heck do I do on Sunday? Was Sunday not the day I am to be left alone after breakfast/brunch to devour the news? I was lost for while. But what am I if not resilient and I now cannot fathom why other countries have not caught on to this. I recall of the many times I have been irritated upon reading an article on some sort of goings on in town on Sunday afternoon...at 2pm on the Sunday (I like my long Sunday breakfasts...did I mention?). I also hated reading about a fun whatever that was held on the Saturday...which I obviously missed. I am now clued in on the weekend events in advance..but still in limbo post Sunday pancakes. So what do I do now?

I play with Sash and Doug...



I do the groceries



Or rather, Sash does the groceries



My weekend routine has been changed, for the better I think.

Masak asam..

I have lived away from Malaysia a majority of my life. I was in the US for most of my primary school years, and in Europe for my college and post-graduate education. I think in English and my Bahasa Malaysia is at best conversational (to be honest and with shame, I must admit that my BM is shite and Sasha's will be even shite-er). I call it home instinctively, but my home is now here in Toronto. Will I ever move back to KL? Probably not. Do I want to be there now? No. Do I miss it? Sometimes, terribly. Most times, I dont even think about it.

Today I thought about it. As usual, it is during lunch time when I have to decide whether I should go the extra length and open a can of tuna to make a sandwich or take the road most travelled which is to open a box of Shreddies and have cereal for lunch. So here I am, munching on my cereal, while actually craving for a plate of steaming rice smothered in masak asam pedas ikan with a side of sambal belacan. I swear, I am drooling as I envision this staple lunch of mine in a previous life working on Jalan Sultan Ismail. I usually miss food first. Then I start feeling guilty about not missing family. I recall that the SPM is coming up in a couple of days and my baby sister will be suffering through it. I can imagine the family dinners at this time, when the days events will be dissected, as she tells all at the table that she thinks she did quite well (she usually doesn't but we have to give her credit for self-confidence). I miss those dinners..and the food. And with thought falling on the family, I have to sort out what to do with Sasha's medical emergency forms for her Nursery registration. We have to provide emergency contact details, other than the parent or guardian. We have yet again the problem of asking someone we hardly know to take on this responsibility. If only we had family here...which goes back to my making comparisons with my life now and my life back home, surrounded in a cacoon-like comfort in knowing that there exists a strong support system comprising family and friends. That is what I miss about Malaysia..and ok, the masak asam.

I have spent the past few days down with the flu. We all have. Sasha started with the runny nose from day care, and we just ran with it I guess. Lots of cold and flu medication for us, and none for Sasha. The Canadian government totally banned the sale of cold and flu medication for infants a few weeks ago. Great timing guys! She could not hold down her milk as she would throw up when she coughed (Have you ever done 4 loads of laundry in a day? Not fun..)so it has been diluted apple juice for the past few days. I hate flu season.

On the flip side, we received a package from Nxxx, Cxxxx and Mxxxx this morning. Inside, a gift to look forward to in the Spring. Thanks ever so much. I will be digging their mass graves tomorrow morning.

This morning, I curled up in my fave corner and caught up with the newspapers. All abuzz with Katie Holmes finishing the NYC Marathon, and not to mention Paula Radcliffe holding her 10 month old baby against her "rock hard" abs as she celebrated her victory. Great! Not enough that we are all expected to be back in yummy mummy flat tummy state almost as soon as we leave the hospital bed, now the benchmark is to run a bloody marathon. I mean seriously, unless you are a world class athlete that can get Nike to sponsor babysitters or have Tom Cruise's Black Amex card to pay for nannies galore, how is a normal run of the mill (and lazy to boot) mum supposed to keep up? I am just going to sit here and dwell on this....over a slice of pie.

Pre Sugar High

The weather was glorious yesterday. Brisk but ever so sunny. We took our daily walk..


It took a bit longer than usual with Sash stopping to play with her friends



But finish the walk we did. We got home in time to get her dressed in her costume and ready to hand out the treats



Of course we caught her red handed trying to sample the goodies.



There are candy wrappers all over the house. Not good as my sister in law will be arriving with her daughter for a weekend visit in a couple of hours. Have to figure out what to have for dinner, clean the house and make the beds. Well I guess another York Patty will give the much needed energy boost. Sasha wishes everyone Happy Halloween...now on to Christmas!