I’m getting good at long, rambly, random updates about once a month

The past few weeks have been interesting, to say the least.  Or, well, I could say less, but who cares either way?

I just finished a mini vacation, which was wonderful.  It was, well, wonderful to have a few days off to just relax and for once not worry about moving details or vacation details or anything of the sort.

So I had two days off last week, and I decided that I was going to go to the cottage.  I miss being there for weeks on end like we used to when I was little.  I headed home after work on Wednesday, and we headed up to the cottage Thursday morning (after I bought my Matt Good tickets, of course)

Speaking of Matt Good tickets… I was at home when I was ordering them.  And we still have dial-up, although it’s high speed.  Now, the funny thing about our dial-up… when someone calls, it gives the internet connection the hiccups.  It doesn’t completely disconnect, but it doesn’t stay connected.  So, of course, my grandmother called just as soon as I hit the submit button to purchase my ticket.  And I cursed and swore and threw a fit (in my room, to prolly only Keiran :x) and lost my ticket.  Or so I thought.  So I opened another ticketmaster window and clicked on my order history.

And instead of having one single ticket on there (or so I hoped anyway, seeing as I wasn’t sure the transaction even went through) I had two single tickets.  In completely different sections of Massey Hall.  So… If anyone wants a ticket…

Anyway.  We headed up to the cottage shortly afterwards.  Where we met our first mouse haha.  Turns out that we’ve got mice at the cottage.  There was one ballsy little guy who would come out in the evening when we were watching TV and run between our feet and around the kitchen in search of food.  He would run around, dashing here and there, completely undisturbed by the fact that we were there.  We even caught him licking off cheese from the mouse traps that had deployed the night before and were waiting to be cleaned by the sink!

There were some nice storms Thursday and Friday at the lake.  The thunder was so loud that it would shake the old windows.  Lightening was flashing like crazy and it absolutely POURED rain.  Usually I love sleeping when it’s raining, all lulled to sleep.  But this was angry rain and it didn’t work quite so well.

Friday night late we headed home so that we could get up early in the morning for our regular routine of Garage Sales, Market and out for breakfast.  In the beginning of the garage sale season, I bought this semi-ugly touch lamp.  The price was right (50 cents) and I desperately needed a lamp for beside my bed at the cottage.  Mom and I were joking the other day about how we’d never find another one like it, and it was a shame.  And lo-and-behold, at the second garage sale on Saturday, I found a matching lamp!

Saturday at the cottage was beautiful weather.  My sister and I decided we were going to take the paddle boat out onto the lake.  Unfortunately some time during the past year, the rudder had snapped partially.  And an even bigger unfortunately occurred when, after an hour and a half of cleaning and getting it ready, while putting it in the water, the rudder snapped completely off.  Figures.  We made do and I wore my sister out with paddling to our cousin’s cottage and back.

Overall it was a very good vacation.

Moving date is rapidly approaching, although not so rapidly that I’m already out of time.  And, of course, I’m nowhere near ready to move.  Well, possession-wise.  Apparently I own a LOT more stuff than I realised, and, well, I’m realising it now?

I’ve spent what feels like very little time actually packing though.  Most of my time has been spent weeding through my possessions and figuring out if they’re worth holding on to.  I’ve always been a packrat.  But it’s amazing the amount of stuff I hold on to.  Some for sentimental reasons, such as letters and cards from friends, but others… makes me go wtf.

It’s also amazing how many magazines pile up when you’re not looking.  And how usesless the majority of them are.  Sure, we love reading them once, but afterwards… they just collect space.  I likely recycled about two years worth of Cosmos without a second glance.

Prior to moving day, and what should be making me a little more anxious ABOUT moving day, is vacation.  In just over a week, Keiran and her mom will be here. Which means I need to get my ass moving with cleaning and making the place livable heh.  Since, well, we might be living here, but it’s really kind of gross.  But since the roommate doesn’t seem to care about the state of the ick in the toilet, or the gross smell coming from the kitchen, someone has to.

But yes, vacation time is coming.  Keiran’s mom has never been to Canada before, and I’m hoping that we don’t completely disapppoint her?  Anyway.  We’ve planned a tour of Toronto for the Saturday.  We’ve got the Hippo Tour booked for Saturday morning, and the Zoo planned for the afternoon, as well as some driving around (with my Dad playing tour guide) and a trip up the CN Tower.  I haven’t been to the Zoo in forever… seriously, like middle school. And I’ve never been on the Hippo Tour – although I’ve seen the Hippo Tour bus quite often downtown.

I think we’re getting somewhere on our plans for after Keiran’s mom leaves.  We’re planning on going up to the cottage, and seeing a movie or two, playing some mini golf and touring African Lion Safari (another place I’ve never been haha).

So… what? See you in another month, after the rate I post at?  Haha.  Well, in a months time, I’ll certainly have lots to post about anyway.

Summer-time memories

Man, the crack of dawn is brutal.  So bright and fuzzy-looking outside this morning…. well, hazy, but it looks fuzzy to me.  Heh.

Going up to the cottage for the weekend.  I’ve still got photos I need to post of the cottage for Keiran.  We’re actually going up Friday night too, instead of the usual mid-way through Saturday. I’m thrilled. Honestly too, not sarcastically.

When I was little, as soon as it was warm enough, it’d be off to the cottage after school on friday and stay until Sunday after lunch.  And it was great.  Especially when both my grandparents were still alive.  I miss my opa and oma.  Opa’d dive off the dock and swim forever and ever and ever, waving, then turning and coming back, splashing me where I sat giggling on the dock.  Oma’d always be willing to play “just one more” game of cards or attempt to teach me one more time to knit.  Or Opa’d pick me up and toss me back on my bed once I’d slid out, both of us laughing (my mattress on my bed when I was little was too big for the frame – great for bouncing on, but it’d constantly be sliding off the bed)

One of my favourite memories from when I was younger at the cottage was when we re-did the lower roof.  I was… maybe 4.  Somewhere between 4 and 5 at least.  I can’t remember exactly.  Anyway, I was young ;) and my opa and my dad were re-shingling the roof (Actually, on after-thought, I think there were a few more people helping, like an uncle or two, but I don’t really remember that part).  And I wanted to be a good girl and help.  Actually, I just wanted to be where all the action was, to have fun with the guys.  I didn’t wanna play in our wading pool on the deck anymore.  I wanted to SEE what was going on.  So I tried to climb the ladder.  My oma would have nothing to do with that.  I wasn’t going up there; I’d surely fall and get hurt (ahahah if it was me now, yeah, for sure!)

So, being the handful that I am, I decided that nothing was going to stop me from getting up there.  After several unsuccessful attempts at the ladder (with my dad and opa watching from the roof, laughing of course!) I sat down to pout.  And plan.  I’m devious, I know that.  And I formed the perfect plan.

I snuck inside, under the guise that I was going to the washroom.  Crept up the stairs and shut the bathroom door, dashing into the room we all shared and climbed onto my bed.  My bed was directly under the window that overlooked the roof they were on.  A few good bounces on the trampoline-bed didn’t quite get me out the window. I was still too short.So I pried the screen off with my fingertips, sliding it to the side.  My sister still slept in a crib at the end of my bed, so I climbed up on the railing of that, stood very very carefully on the edge and leapt – head first – out the window.

I was discovered pretty quickly by the men.  My oma was horrified that I got up there after all and wanted me down.  But opa and dad let me stay.  I was happy a clam up there, sorting nails and “helping” hammer them into the roof.

I miss days like those.