Guess who this is?

Unfortunately, I couldn't find a cigarette for her!

Cute

This is as close to me and my Sheltie, Lucy as I can get.



Of course, I have never been that thin in my life! ;-P

Updatey-ness

Sorry for the lack of bloggage. I have been sick for the past 5 days and prior to that, my tendonitis flared back up again and typing was a real pain. Literally. I haven't had much energy to write and quite honestly, unless you are interested in hearing about hacking coughs and mucous production, I haven't much to write about.

I interviewed for a new school on Sunday. For those of you keeping track, that would have been the second day of my illness. Nothing like interviewing with a hoarse, nasally voice, eh? Anyway, this school is a pilot project for our district; an all-year calendar program. Instead of two months off during summer, we would have just one and spread the rest of the holiday time throughout the year. Grant and I talked it over and decided that having the opportunity to travel during off-peak times would definitely compensate for not having quite as much summer holiday, so I went ahead and interviewed.

Me and 179 other people.

!!!!!!!

I think it went well enough. But the principal was limited to 20 minutes per interview and there's only so much you can get across in that amount of time. I would really like to get a job offer there, though, so keep your fingers crossed for me.

More when I have some energy. And a life.

Tents on the beach

Yes, Tucson is a lovely place to visit. But where I really want to go to next is here. Several years ago, my friends Carl and Michelle spent a vacation here, tenting on the beach. Ever since, I have wanted to go.

But the problem with teaching is that your vacation time is always peak time. I have a week off in March, but can you get a flight from Toronto to Cancun for anything resembling a reasonable amount at that time of year? The answer is no.

So, Grant and I sigh, and dream about swinging in hammocks while the tropical breezes blow, discussing our visit to Chichen Itza and sipping our cocktails by candlelight.

This one's for Jess

Last night's entry was supposed to be the travel post that Jess has been asking for, but somehow I got sidetracked. Stupid brain...

We manage to get to Tucson just about every year. We love it there: forest of saguaro cacti as far as the eye can see, rugged red-toned mountains and a sky that seems to go on for eternity. I also get a chance to work out my issues with Canadian retail stores by hitting all my favourite U.S stores and blowing my clothing budget in a week. Plus, we get to eat real Mexican food, purchase tequila at a reasonable price and go to Trader Joe's!! The weather this trip was nothing to get excited about, in the low to mid 60s F, but considering that it was well below 0 C. back home, we didn't complain. Well, not too much! We spent just the right amount of time with my parents, and had the added bonus of a whirlwind visit from my sister and my 7 and 5 year old nephews just before Christmas. They are too adorable and smart for words, and I simply don't get to see them often enough.

These are all wonderful reasons to visit Tucson. But the real reason Grant pesters me every year to inflate our credit card bill once again is one thing: golf.

One of the smartest things I ever did to ensure the success of my marriage (all 4 years of it [rolls eyes]) was to start playing golf. Fortunately, I discovered that I liked it, because as much as I love Grant, I wouldn't do a damn thing "just for him" if I discovered that I hated it! But I do like it, although I am a long way from being any good at it. It is a wonderful way for us to spend time together and in Tucson, we have the added bonus of beautiful scenery and wildlife.

I know a lot of environmentalists have serious reservations about golf courses as open space and I understand their concerns, but, my god, some of the courses in Arizona are amazingly beautiful! In Tucson, pretty much all golf is "desert golf". In other words, if you miss the green bits, your ball is off in the desert. Finding it means risking disturbing a rattlesnake, so only the truly intrepid or the truly stupid venture forth. Surrounding the courses are the aforementioned mountains, city vistas and desert scapes as far as the eye can see. You take a deep breath and all of your stress just rolls away.

When we get home, we sit on the veranda in the back of my parents' house, which overlooks a desert wash. They are frequently visited by wildlife, as are the golf courses. This trip we saw a bobcoat, a couple of roadrunners, a mangy looking coyote and a javalina. A few times, as we were drifting off to sleep, the coyotes starting whooping it up over on the mountain. It's a sound I never tire of.

Grant is already asking if I think we can justify going back in March. Maybe, I say, knowing full well what the answer is. After all, the coyotes are calling us!

My mother's gift

On the last day of school, as I was leaving, my co-worker and good friend gave me a hug and said "Don't fight with your mother!"

I rather sheepishly replied "I'll try" but she looked at me hard and repeated "Don't fight with your mother."

She knew that the last time I went to Arizona to visit, my mother and I fought almost constantly. I returned home feeling absolutely miserable. My parents are both in their early eighties, and quite frankly, we don't have time for all this drama! Every time I visit, I realize that it is possibly the last time I will see them. To leave with such negativity hanging over our relationship depressed me for weeks.

My friend was right. I needed to not fight with Mom. Grant keeps reminding me to cut her some slack; remember that she's 83; don't let her get to you. My sister does the same. It's just that my mom and I drive each other mad. I honestly think that the one thing that has saved our relationship is that I moved 3,000 miles away. We can appreciate each other now in ways we could never before. Because, before, we were just pissing each other off.

Whenever I hear a woman say "Oh, my mom is my best friend!" I am...well... incredulous. It's not that I don't believe her, it's just that I can't imagine what that feels like. I love my mother. I even like her most of the time. But she has never been my friend. My adversary, yes. My critic, certainly. My mirror? Reluctantly conceded. But never my friend.

Anyway, our history is difficult to relinquish, even over a short span of days. But this Christmas, we managed it. We didn't fight. There were no tears, no yelling, and I left feeling like I had spent happy times with my parents. My mother even gave me a gorgeous diamond lavalier that she had been given when she was young, because she told me that she knew I would appreciate and cherish it as she had.

As I grow older, and more like her, I look for the things in her that are lovable. I want to find those things in myself: her love of cooking and good books, her talent for finding unique jewelry and clothes, her patience and joy in the presence of children, her intelligence and passion, her commitment to her marriage of 54 years and the strength that enabled her to survive the loss of two children. She can give me all the jewelry she wants, but I know that these are my true inheritance from her.

Salty goodness

See, the real problem is that there are no salt-based snacks in the house right now. There are still far too many sugary, chocolately nummy treats available, but my body is craving the salt!!

I would kill for some Miss Vicky's Salt and Vinegar chips right now. Really, I would. Well, okay, maybe not kill, but definitely maim.

I promise a real entry soon. As soon as there is salty snackage in my house and I can concentrate.