Tuesday, September 27, 2005

mirror, mirror on the wall. . .

i'm so pissed off. .

I watched a snippet of a show called "Ten Years Younger" for the last few minutes of my lunch half hour. I wished that i hadn't bothered. It made my blood boil. There is a plethora of these 'ugly duckling morphing into swan' shows out there - if you've seen one, you've seen them all. Formulaic predictability is a given. Person presents to the host, host points out person's glaring physical flaws, person gets the 'once over' from the team and person emerges beautified, sassified with a possible "Narcissus" complex?!

Michelle was a woman in her mid 3os, a former model, she was upset with her current appearance, she wanted a make over. Ho hum. . seen that before! Her dark hair was pulled back from her unmade up face, she was outfitted in 'gym attire'. The host was as personably warm as a bucket of dry ice. . . brrrrr. . . right away that put me off. . Michelle lists her flaws - host sits and eyes her disparagingly. He brings up photos from her former modelling days on the nearby computer monitor. They were lovely black and white pictures. She was a decade younger, fresh-faced, though certainly air brushed. He turns to her and says "You were beautiful! What happened?" I could not believe the judgmental look in his eyes. I wanted to deck him!!! Michelle was clearly uncomfortable. She began to explain her 'deterioration' to this heartless host - she bared her psychologically problematic soul to this wretch of a man and there was not a flicker of compassion from him. I was fuming.

He then said to his charge. . . "We're going to do the soundproof box now, come with me." They walked to a soundproofed, plexiglass box, which was placed on a busy urban corner. Michelle stood in the box and 100 random people on the street were asked to analyze this woman, noting all the things that they didn't like about her appearance. She stood like a monkey in a zoo as people came up, looked her up and down, forward and backwards and offered their critiques to "Mr. Icy", who seemed to progressively brighten with each insult. Each person was asked to guess her age.

This is what the people said:
"Her hair is ugly, its in serious need of some attention."
"Her hands are vein-y, so I'd say she's in her late 40s"
"She has bags under her eyes and dark circles. .she looks like someone who doesn't have any pride."
"She's frumpy."
"She looks chunky"
"Her shoes are funny looking and they make her legs look funny."
She's dumpy."
"She could lose a few pounds."
"Those clothes do nothing for her."
"I wouldn't give her a second look."

Ages guessed varied from 40 - 47 *she was 36 years old*

After enduring that very public humiliation, this poor woman was brought back to the studio, the host announced "Now, we will let you listen to the comments." I watched her respond to this brutal onslaught of negativity, with tears and her hands covering her mouth in shock. . the camera panned to the smiling host. . . I wanted to kill him!

I'm going to write TLC (The Learning Channel). I want that show yanked.

Michelle bravely or stupidly (i'm not sure which) persevered - i guess she desperately wanted the Zoom tooth whitening, hair colouring, dermatology work, psychological counseling for her self-admitted Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, wardrobe advice, make up, whatever else they do to these women in this torture chamber experience. I couldn't watch any more. . my break was up. . my rage was raging. . . I watched her visit a porcelain-skinned Stepford wife Dermatologist, whom I suspect, like the host, must bask on a rock during lunch breaks to raise her body temp. Michelle jumped in the chair with every pop of the laser as it removed 'facial hair', which i couldn't see. . she winced through the 'acid peel' of her entire face to remove 'spots' which were barely visible to the camera and she endured more laser work to 'break the blood vessels under the eye to cause them to cease blood flow and discolouration to the undereye area.' . . . That was it for me. I never saw Michelle's final result. . I didn't want to. I was incensed. . .as a woman, as a human. I was mortified for Michelle - i was furious with the creators of this 'show. . I kept telling the TV "Just leave now." "You're beautiful, don't believe their lies." I could not believe my eyes, I couldn't believe my ears and i couldn't believe how bilious i became watching what passes for 'entertainment' these days. The envelope is pushed and pushed. . until there is no more envelope i guess?

I wondered how Michelle's psyche survived the vicious assault? I guess it was the price she was willing to pay for 'perfection'? I guess she was game for world-wide humiliation if she could once more lay claim to the title "hottie"? I guess she would endure anything to look "10 Years Younger"?!

I am still in a state of disbelief here. . with all that is so wrong with this planet and its occupants, the constant flow of human misery being disseminated via satellite, cable and print. . how can this kind of show see air time? Where did we all learn to value such things and ignore others' heartbreak and devastation? Why did i choose to sit and watch that instead of CNN? Why did i choose to watch that instead of pray for those I know to be in need? I know that we don't all ignore, but its easy to be like those cobras dancing out from the wicker baskets to the tunes provided by their charmers. What will break the spell?

well, i've harped on enough, i think. Do you feel what I'm talking about? I'm still pissed off. Now to write that email to TLC!

Thursday, September 22, 2005

sweet tooth

I have a confession to make. . . . I have the most wicked sweet tooth and its gotten me into a lot of trouble, i still carry around in my head several silver amalgam fillings courtesy of good, old Dr. Reilly in Hamilton -- i didn' t know what floss was as a child and i used to neglect brushing and i had no parental guidance in this area - so i would scrape the gunge off my teeth with my fingernails while i watched TV. . which my 'now self' finds apalling and if dwelt upon long enough nausea may ensue. Trips to 'the doc' - and there were many - always meant fillings. . (they seemed not to have sealants back then, or floss), they meant reading the Bugs Bunny comics while the freezing took effect and always a chance to choose a glorious bauble from the 'treasure box'!! *that would of course turns my wrists or fingers green, but that just added magic to the item - cuz i didn't know that meant it was cracker jack box cheap!!! * Anyway, after the office visit my mother would take me and my sisters (she always did a 3-fer while she was at it) to the restaurant right next to the dental office. Its name eludes me. . . but i always wondered why she would buy us lunch when our lips and cheeks were numbed beyond belief and we all drooled like teething babies? Maybe she did this on purpose so that we wouldn't cost her too much $$???!!! It also seems quite strange to take freshly fluoridated molars and get them all gunked up with food immediately after being cleaned???!

Anyway, speaking about all those 'sweet somethings' have also left their mark in the form of subcutaneous body fat. . it seems like the preferred areas are the derriere and the gut. . that is where twinkies magically metabolize into junk in the trunk. . 'dunlop disease' (it done lop over my belt). . even just the aroma of baked goods would begin the fat cells in there multiplying!!! So, how do you stand a chance with this kind of history?

So, I grew up this way, call it conditioning, call it programming. . whatever. . its just an addiction that i have had to fight my whole life. grrrrrrr. . . . my sisters know what i'm saying. . and maybe some of you too?! If you had examined the bags of groceries coming into my childhood home on a Saturday morning, you would find all kinds of goodies: "Florida orange cake", bear claw pastries, 'swiss rolls', date turnovers, packaged cookies, boxed cheesecake mixes, cake mixes, 5 minute fudge mix, pies, tarts, mille feuilles pastries, chelsea buns. . . I feel sick!!! That was for my parents -- we had CANDY!!! tons and tons of it. . every kind you can remember, plus we ate ice cream and our Nana would bring us donuts, cookies. . . Sunday night suppers were comprised entirely of sweets. . jam tarts, cinnamon buns -- i kid you not - roast beef dinner for lunch and desserts only for supper. .

We ate other things too, of course. . but there was a familial addiction. My parents also had an addiction to radishes, which they ate by the bag -- do you wanna know about gas?! WOAH!!! There was also their potato chip shame . . they bought industrial-sized drums of these. I didn't get a grip on it until i became a teenager and realized when i had lunch at school or ate over at friend's houses, that other families did not eat like this. We used to get sick all the time. . we had a lot of skin infections and stomach problems. . I guess my Nana told our mother to give us cod liver oil. . So one day our mother came in the kitchen with this jar of what I can only describe as fishy-smelling contact cement. She would make us line up and give each of a whopping spoonful of this taffy-like, day-at-the-wharf smelling crap. We gagged and retched. We got to the point where we tried to avoid those times of the day when she would get out the spoons. . . finally, thank the good Lord she gave up on that nonsense. . . as if a spoonful of fish product goo could atone for feeding your children garbage food?

Anyway. . . i've left the past. . bodily and nutritionally. I''ve camped out in the land of skim milk yogurt, whole grain products of various types, raw vegetables, lean meats, sprouts, fruit that isn't packed in syrup and I have overcome the terrible habits of my childhood, or have i???

What do you think i always want after eating my la de da nutritious food? sweet crap
What do you think i crave when i see food commercials on TV? not the Wendy's chicken ranch sandwich that the dark-haired guy with the outspoken, raucous, cowboy-hat-wearing 'ranch tooth' wants. . ."RAAAAAANCH!" My tooth wears a beret and a string of pearls and yells "FUDGE BROWWWWWWNIES!"
What do you think is the first thing i turn to when i'm under stress or emotionally upset? chocolate. .
What do i go for when i'm on the job and lonely and bored outta my skull typing for 8 hours alone trapped in the house?! with only a snoring poodle under the bed for company. . . I think about eating mini oreos. . not a lot, but some.
What do you think i would choose for seconds if i have the room? not meat. . not spuds. . . PIE!
sure i might eat only the filling if the pastry isn't good. . but if it is, i'll eat the whole piece.
Why do these kinds of foods call out to me? A pie cannot just sit on the counter. . nooooo, it knows me by name and it lures me and says things like "just trim a little piece off for a snack, COME ON!!!" or it might say "that piece is uneven - just even it up there. . its only a bit" I swear, sometimes i wanna go COOKIE MONSTER BESERK!!! UMMMMYUMMMYUMM.. . with the same googly eyes and crumbs flying. . . but then i realize that if i did. . i would indeed weigh 300 pounds and i might have a 'second butt' out front and that's just nasty. . not to mention that i would probably become as a sick as a dog. . . its a lunatic feeling this feeling of uncontrol in the guise of control. . .

What is wrong with me? Why do i try to fix emotional problems with chocolate chunk cookies?
Why do i want to keep eating just cuz it tastes good? even though i know friggin' well that there will be more left at another time?
Maybe i should be lying on an analyst's couch here??!
Even though I have trained myself to eat nutritiously, and I really do eat good food most of the time. . . the demon is still in there. . . suggesting, tempting, luring. . can it never just go away and leave me alone? Can I not crave a bacon mushroom melt instead of a piece of chocolate cake? why do i have to crave anything? Why can't i just eat just enough to take away the hunger and not more than i need?

oh well. . . i guess its time for bed. . and you'll be proud of me. . i'm working out 5 days a week for an hour a day. . I am trying to keep 'offending' demonic goodies out of this house. . . though its hard to do that when you have grandkids and skinny daughters who like to have the occasional sweet bite to eat. . . (you'll be double proud of me cuz i didn't do that to them!!!) I am trying to learn that problems aren't solved with bakery items, or by the baking or consuming high glycemic index baddies. . St. Paul had a thorn in the flesh to contend with. . . i have boston cream donuts. . . equally contentious, i'd say!

Sunday, September 18, 2005


So, this was my daughter's idea! a little look at my new hair. the colour in the room here is rather golden, but if you look closely you will strands of purple in there!!! *along with blonde and dark brown*

My hairstylist, Jenny loooves when I come in, cuz i let her do whatever she wants to my hair! Its kinda like the old Forest Gump saying about the box of chocolates! At lunch today my mother in law looked at me and said "Oh, Kathy you've had your hair done." I said "Yes". . . she didn't say anything *which means "I don't like it."!!!! So, I said "I love it!" She then started talking about "Dame Edna"!!!! oh my, i guess maybe i'm looking like a crazy British man in drag?!

We went to a wedding yesterday and i had quite a few people commenting that they liked my crazy hair! Phew!!! every time I come back from a visit with Jenny i am progressively more 'out there' with the hair - its so fun! We talk and talk about everything under the sun. . she's more like a young friend than a 'hairdresser'. Its always time well spent and she makes me feel confident and fabulous!

At the wedding reception we danced and laughed with our friends - luckily we were all seated at the same table!! *thanx John and Eva!* It was awesome. . the dinner was great, the cake was sweet and light - they had a CHOCOLATE FOUNTAIN!!! (it seemed SO 'Vegas') but the chocolate was really too sweet. . didn't stop people from dunking their fruit kabobs in there, cookies, twizzlers - I guess I don't get out much, cuz I have never seen such a cool thing!

Anyway, this post is a short one. . we've gotta drive KK back tonight - we haven't seen her much this w/e and we really miss her when she's gone! tomorrow's dance class!!! WEEEE!!! something to anticipate after the monotony of a work day. Oh, we also went to the apple farm this afternoon! We got some yummy McIntosh and some Spartans (for baking). The kids had a blast running between the trees and picking the apples. Took some great pix - which i'll get on here in the next day or two! Robbie even let Jimmy steer the van as we drove through the humungous farm!!! what a thrill for a 5 year-old, eh?! We all made sure to tell him that only on this farm could he help Opa or anyone else with steering.

well, I'm gonna sign out now. . . we're all on the cusp of another week . . what's in store for us i wonder?!!

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

just how sweaty can a woman get? my fitness journey

I remember the smell well, and believe me the smell of a man after a hockey game, well its just disgusting beyond words. Rob used to be in this league that got ice time late Tuesday nights. He loved it. When we were newlyweds i would go with him and sit in the stands, under the ancient heat lamps. I'd clap my rabbit fur mittens together and whoop and 'woo hoo' and otherwise verbally encourage him every time he skated past me! Oh, we are sooooo not newlyweds now!!! 24 years down the road!!! For one, he says his old bod is beyond playing hockey. . .i can relate! cuz i'm starting to feel the progress of time and its not always kind!! Not to mention that i wouldn't flippin' well sit in some freezing cold arena under the meager heat of those silly, little lamps now. Aren't i a hard case?!! I hate hockey, but I love Rob! So, if he still played it, he'd be on his own, which would suit both of us just fine. . cuz we are well beyond that 'joined at the hip' stage. *thank God!!!*

So, yes, back from memories of Rob's hockey stank and his salty kisses. . BLECH!
The sweatness this time, I'm afraid is all mine. I'm a bit genteel, i admit. . well sort of in the sense that I don't really like sweating. I have long tried to avoid it, but with my current penchant for expressing myself through dance, i am rapidly discovering that i am JUST as stinky as Rob used to be post hockey!!! Its grossin' me out!!!

As you may have already read here. . . I am faithfully doing my Afro-Brazilian dancing **i'm even thinking about 'capoeira'. . but that sounds a bit intense?!** and my belly dancing. These 2 DVDs have REALLY loosened me up and started me on the path of perspiration and enjoyment of fitness!!! yee haw!!! Imagine enjoying getting in shape!???
Believe me, fellow babies, i have tried it all!!! I once thought that Billy Blanks was the new fitness messiah. . . i don't think so any more. Sorry, he gets old after a while -- what with all his barking and counting in 8s, the only part i liked was the 'horse stance' cuz it made me feel all powerful!! and the tai chi, but i didn't know exactly what that did? I bought a Nordictrack ski machine. . BORING!! weeewuhweeewuh. . . arms and legs, arms and legs -- pulleys and fake skis going nowhere. . staring at walls. How excruciating. I bought an elliptical trainer -- ho hum. . . that thing was positively tedious. . . what was i thinking??Total Gym 100? Chuck Norris gave us displays of his sinewy, rawboned musculature - "You, too can sculpt your body with the Total Gym 100"poppycock!!! Its got all these stupid adjustments you have to make for every sequence you need to do. Why make things so difficult??! I went for the Tony Little Gazelle. . . you've gotta be joking!? The guy's on drugs, man. I could not take his fever pitch, machine gun instructional video dialogue!! *not to mention this, of all fitness equipment I have owned, is a WUSS machine that did absolutely nothing for me* These things all promise fun, but baby, they don't deliver!!! Rob and the girls would always roll their eyes at my phases. . all that equipment, which i would sell cuz i just found each and every piece of it fiendishly and excruciatingly boring. So, I vowed never to buy another piece of big equipment and I have kept my vow. I always thought it was the 'economical' thing to do. . . its cheaper than annual gym fees, true. But it lacks one thing: "the movitation of money". I have discovered that if you are not always paying for something, you won't do it! And my foray into increasing my dancing time and my motivation will bear that out, in the next paragraph or two.

I told myself "I'll just walk, that will be my fitness." Well, you know I could walk till Jesus comes back and the flub ain't disappearing. If I walked for hours every day maybe some of my chub would depart. . but the walking and walking just never did it; especially walking with Rob, cuz he's always in 'first gear'. . .and i have to 'gear down' in order to walk with him. He's a stroller, a lollygagging, laid back guy who has these l o n g legs. . but just trying to get him to move them. .

I've tried jogging. . . of all forms of fitness this is the one i DESPISE with every ounce of my being. I see people out running all the time and I wonder "Is there some mass hypnotism going on in this world?" Is every jogger being mesmerized into thinking this is enjoyable?? Come on, people!!! running, jogging. . . its just so gross. . it feels gross and its hard and it makes me feel like puking and my asthmatic lungs shut right off. . its so jarring and pounding and makes me feel horrendous. GAH. . .

So, dance. . . Its always lurked around in my fitness history. . . i've done some 'danceaerobics', "Dance Fit"live classes and videos, but for the most part, these were more 'aerobics' than dancing. . and they just weren't very fun for me. I've done hip hop on this cool, little cable TV show. . which disappeared from the air waves. . . boo hoo. I loved that! When I went to the gym i LOVED my 'cardio jam' class. . which unfortunately was cancelled. . our little Trina was a fantastic, hard core dance teacher. . who really inspired me to find enjoyment at last. . ahhhh. . what a great thing after trying everything under the sun. . I was enjoying hip hop, crumping, jazz. . .it was awesome.

So, now at this point in my journey I have decided to augment my current home fitness with some live classes, which i have to pay for and must faithfully attend in order to 'get my money's worth'! Nothing works except paying money!! Left to your own devices, you will alway bag off, chicken out, put off or wimp out.

This is where the title of this little ramble comes in. . . I ask it again. "Just how sweaty can a woman get?" Well, I'll tell ya! Can't stand my own smell when i lift up my arms -- clothes stuck to my skin, sliding off the matt when doing floor work, rivulets of water running down my extremities that i wonder "Where'd those come from? This is just a women's dance class!" Panting like a dog after every routine. . guzzling water like a stranded in the desert person, driving home with my back away from the seat, for fear of saturating the upholstery, wondering the whole time if i should even be sitting in the van, cuz i smell so bad!! That is how sweaty a woman can get. . but all grossness aside. . . Its only taken me forever to find joy in this fitness journey -- i'm giddily and ecstatically pleased that I finally did! I'm sleeping better. . i'm beginning to feel better inside and outside. .I'm meeting new people and I'm friggin' happy about it all!!!! Sweat is my new best friend - I don't avoid it now. . i appreciate it, but i also appreciate getting rid of it!! peeeyoo!!!

Friday, September 09, 2005

small things

I love small things, little things. A few years ago I sat in church at the funeral of a dear, sweetheart of a woman* I miss her*. The last time I ever saw her alive was when our band went to her house to sing some of her favourite songs to her, as she lay in bed dying. It seemed like a little thing to sing her some songs, but it wasn't-- it was a huge thing disguised as a little thing. We all stood around her bed in a circle to sing. It was hard, the emotion was crackling in the air and stabbing at our hearts. I climbed into bed with her. She couldn't talk much at that point, but she grabbed onto me and didn't want to release me. She looked so small in that big bed, so little. Anyway, at her funeral her husband talked about how her life was all about 'the little things' I took that to heart and i listened to him talk about how the love of his life made lives better with all the little things that she did and all the things that she said and how these precious little things all piled up to build this lovely legacy.

Isn't that so perfect? To think that you can live a life made up of little things and you can make a difference that way. Sometimes it seems there's this pressure people feel to make a big splash in life, in this world, win a Nobel prize, succeed in business, be known, do something 'important' and noticeable. The world has its high voltage luminaries, but it also has it 'votive candles'. . little lights that cast a warm, beautiful glow.

The secret is not in the long range plan or the 7 successful habits for financial freedom. It isn't investment portfolios. Its not about acclaim or degrees. Its not the curriculum vitae or the accumen. Its not lifestyles of the rich and famous. Its not celebrity or recognizability. Its not in accumulation and acquisition. My friends knew the secret and they're right, it is in all the little things. . . little looks, a smile, a wink; little words - 3 in particular. . little deeds, good ones, kind ones; small moments that bring big realizations, small steps, little changes.

I like 'small' because it gets my attention and it has this capacity to contain 'bigness' within itself -- it fakes me out every time. Wisdom from the mouths of children, a lifetime of love conveyed in a look, a touch; eternity hidden in our hearts, a massive tree contained in a little acorn.

yep, good things do come in small packages - some cliches are just so true.

Monday, September 05, 2005

Rainy days and Sundays always get me down

The actual song title is "Rainy Days and Mondays. . " but I adapted it for my personal use.

Rainy days aren't what bothers me so much now as I sit and type this, though generally I do get a bit tetchy if there are too many of them and they block the sun and make my brain feel all serotonin deprived. I think for me at this stage in my life Sundays are what is irking me. Its not the day that's magical or unmagical, one day is like another. For me its about what the day used to symbolize and what it is now, which is a whole other thing. I don't even know if i can even take a stab at trying - how can i authentically corral all the mixed up, loose feelings and stray thoughts? I wish there was some sort of mythical wrangler who would do that for me. I often hesitate to write blogs like this. . but you all know that I periodically do - cuz you write what you know, right? I know that this is who I am. I am a person who has a need to be spiritual. It may turn others off. . it may encourage them to read such confessions but I am unashamed and make no excuses for expressing what's in my heart and my soul - not to mention my spirit. I think that people all have this 'trinity' within them - bear with me i mean no sacrelige. . body, mind, spirit.. . that's us - that's what we're made of. A lot of people I've met live with a fragmented 'trinity', cut off portions, withered components, even dead. . however you want to say. . they live without wholeness. You know, now that I think about this. . i don't think anyone's exempt.

I've felt wholeness before, but i've more often felt fragmented. I feel that way now. . flat, you know those cardboard likenesses that they make of people? I think a lot of people go through life feeling like a cardboard likeness of themselves. I used to pretend a lot when I was figuring out who i was. I feigned and fumbled my way through lots on the way to now. The older i get the less is feign. . honestly, i seldom whitewash or pretend or hide anything now - although if i sat and thought some more I could come up with enough to prove me a liar.

Sundays. . . so I am persistently confused with why i get so hung up on this day. I guess its decades of conditioning. My now self keeps saying "Every day is special. " Every day has the potential to be a day that honours God, a day in which i love other people, beautiful or not, good or bad, a day that makes me treasure breathing in and out without stopping, see all the awesomely see-worthy things that surround me - appreciate all my senses without being too familiar, like a kid does - all wide-eyed and open mouthed and jumping up and down like my grandson . This seismic shift in me has been a long time coming, and I am grateful for it, even though its brought destruction, as all seismic activity does. Its a destruction that has caused me more than even in my life to evaluate, step back, put my index finger over my closed lips and say "hmmm." The disruption feels all loose and jagged, like i've been walking on uneven ground. Its pretty much disrupted all my preconceived ideas, like "Its Sunday, therefore you do this, that and the other." or "You must do this in order to be 'good' ". "This is how you serve 'the Lord'." I think that mindset is a fractured trinity talking. . someone who's whole doesn't ritualize or formulize something so special like communion with the one you want to commune with. When I used to 'go to church' i so often, in fact very often felt like everything was a sham. . like the thing I most wanted, which was to have something real, you know? no faking, no hoops, numbness but an encounter with greatness. . nobody else's greatness except God's. I wanted to feel expectant. .i wanted everyone to feel expectant with me. . . like we would be wowed, see something inexplicable that would give us goosebumps and would help me to stop thinking incessantly about me, myself and i - if that could ever be possible. . i wanted to be able to feel other people's heart break and i wanted them to feel mine. I wanted to have acceptance and feel accepting back and i just so didn't want b.s. I wanted to feel like others had my back and i watched theirs. I desperately wanted to belong in the very best way to a good, wonderful, living, growing 'thing'. something that just makes sense, and feel the presence of love that writes no rules for me to follow and asks nothing from my hand but softly demands my trinity in full, nothing held back. I've never had that. . in a church or growing up.

Last night i sat and watched the last half of this old movie with Michael Keaton and Nicole Kidman. I was alone in the house. . sitting in Rob's recliner with a blanket up to my chin - watching the story of love and loss and change and family reconciliation and community and support and extremes. . love, appreciation for life that only came about in the pall of death. I sobbed out loud and cried until i gave myself a headache and it was way beyond just the characters, it was even way beyond putting myself in their spot. . . ever notice that's the only way we can ever feel others' pain, by imagining our own?! the self will never die. . . it was just huge, i cried for it all, for me, for my unsupportive, rejecting parents, for me and my sisters and all that we endured, for 'church' and 'church people' in their grave/ruts and for people who need to be whole but aren't because nobody's telling them how to be whole. . and for disasters and death and geez, the whole sh@# load of it. . and for Sundays, what they were and what they are. . and how will i ever be the same? and do i even want to be? and for me and God -- because He's so beautiful and i'm shabby and contemptible.

Thursday, September 01, 2005

kitchen gettin' there!!

Its been a couple of months' worth of 'oh me nerves' kinda of topsy turviness in my kitchen as you may know. You will then also know that I instigated the whole project when taken with a sudden whim to demolish my country kitchen, purge all cuteness and folk arty-ness from my 'culinary command post'!
the baskets? . . . OUT!
the country knick knacks? GONE!
the odd coloured bowls and glasses. . . . SO LONG!
the quaint tea towels. . . . ALSO GONE!

Fortunately for me stainless steel is IN when it comes to kitchen accessories de jour. I have managed to strike paydirt!!! Every place i go, there is this abundance of metallica!!! ha ha!!! A spontaneous trip to HomeSense last night was fantastic! Stainless, chrome, brushed nickle items spilling all over the shelves, centre aisle displays of the stuff!!! Can't believe I made my choice before I knew it was a 'hot' thing!!? Totally coincidental! I'm trying, of course, to be thrifty, get bargains whenever possible. We have been really trying to do things on as shoestringy a budget as possible. Saving money where possible and investing where necessary like flooring. We saw this product called "FibreFloor" on our of our scouting missions! I flipping through flyers tonight and guess what? its on SALE now at Sears!! YAY! I know where we're headed tomorrow! This stuff is amazing. . you don't need to lay a subfloor, you don't need to rip your old floor up, you don't glue the stuff down - it is engineered to just lay flat on top of your floor! All you have to do is lay and cut. . then place your threshold strips and Bob's your uncle!!! DONE! It also comes with a 25 year guarantee! What a lazy renovator's dream, eh? The only other more expensive item is the copper tile that we spied at The Home Centre. . posh-looking. . so we'll see what that's going to cost. Regardless I do want the copper and Rob likes it too. Its gonna look fabulous on that wall, I just know it! I actually had my heart set on glass tile. If you've never seen it, wow. . its so glossy and gorgeous - stunning. When I laid eyes on some sample boards of the exquisite stuff at the Home Depot I was so taken! I yelled out loud "THAT'S IT!!! THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WANT!" After looking at slab after slab of oatmeal-coloured, bland stuff in Aisle 17, spying this stuff made my pulse race!! Rob had to practially grab me and spin me around toward the store exit! Oh, but it had everything going on. . . cool smoothness, iridescent shine, deeply pigmented, vibrant colour. . i was 'aw-ing' and looking at Rob with the "Can I have it, pretty please with sugar on top?" look. . I don't often give him that look cuz i'm not really often so soppy about 'things'. He didn't buy it. He just looked at the price tag and said "It's $13.00 per sheet, Kathy!" and it was -- my heart sunk. It would take many sheets to cover our wall. I'm just now getting over the disappointment!!! So, we looked at this Home Centre and they had this huge, colossal selection of tile - every type, including some glass that just wasn't as purty as the stuff at Home Depot, so i wasn't tempted. We should order the tile soon. . wanna get this wrapped up! We've never tiled or grouted before, so it will prob take us forever!!

Last night i went through the kitchen and took out every duplicate, every 'non-matching with the new vibe' thing, every now undesirable item and placed them in 2 large bags. We'll let our daughters go through the stuff - much of which is perfectly fine - and what they don't want gets the heave ho! (we'll take it to one of the thrift stores).

Rob is hanging the triple-coated doors now and they look lustrous and WHITE! the hinges and catches are stainless, the handles are brushed nickle. I have this urge to brush my hands across them. . actually i've already done that!!! they're so smooth and lovely. (yes, i'm a bit weird!)

The big job still isn't done - we have the lower cupboards to attend to. . sigh. Then the tiling, then the light installation above the sink, hang the bamboo blinds - make the valances, which will be covered with aluminum sheeting, lay the floor and we're finished! I'm going to cook a celebration dinner when its all spiffy and complete. CAN'T WAIT!!!

I'll post a picture of the cupboards soon.