tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25936677964086976802011-11-27T19:52:29.834-05:00Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1991100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-69193882494978074062009-08-23T14:22:00.002-04:002009-09-04T12:24:44.743-04:00

I lost my job on Friday. That makes it sound like I left it on the bus or something, doesn't it? But, no, they hired someone to come in and let us all go. And in between wondering what was to become of meeeeeee! I kept thinking, "How bad does your life have to suck to spend all day every day telling people to pack their things and leave immediately?" It's crazy what people will do for money.

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-20231940736409761382009-08-10T18:13:00.001-04:002009-08-10T18:13:57.465-04:00

Up until yesterday, we had been having a long and lovely unseasonably cool summer.  Sleeping blissfully under the duvet every night.  We had to turn the furnace right OFF because it kept wanting to start up in the morning. I was wearing sweaters in August dammit!  I was HAPPY! But then, yesterday, Mother Nature woke up, looked at the time and sent us a heatwave. My hair has poufed out to

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-7760750156181971452009-08-03T16:28:00.001-04:002009-08-03T16:28:26.511-04:00

It was a nice weekend chez Basically Unemployble.  We had a couple of dinner parties and were invited to a party on Saturday night, which, yay!  Parties! I met up with an old favourite, who flirted outrageously with one and all.  Which was lovely. But thinking back on some of the conversations I had over the weekend has left me troubled a bit.  Because they were about fear.  About how dangerous

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-26482978828809945102009-08-02T13:09:00.001-04:002009-08-02T13:09:02.990-04:00

Last week I told you about Feedbooks and Google Books. This week I found The Gutenburg Project which not only offers thousands of titles (all for free!) but also gives you the opportunity to proofread manuscripts they're working on!  I have several friends who, like me, can't NOT correct spelling mistakes when we see them.  This will give us all a safe outlet and make us much less annoying at

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-36624935242071554662009-07-26T11:34:00.001-04:002009-07-26T11:34:58.603-04:00

I found Feedbooks the other day through Scott Pack of Me and My Big Mouth and I was reallyreally excited.  I mean, what could be better? Hundreds of downloadable books.  ALL FREE!!! As I was sizing up the amount of floor space that would be freed up by offloading our bound books, my husband said to me, "You mean like Google books?" And I'm all, "Google's doing whatnow?" And, sure enough.  They

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-5586401754640338102009-07-25T18:13:00.001-04:002009-07-25T18:13:52.781-04:00

Why am I writing about gift-giving in the middle of the summer?  Well, I heard the phrase "Christmas in July" and it got me thinking.  And since I can never find the posts I bank, I figured I'd just send this out now.  I need to learn to file better.  Anyway, bookmark this page.  You'll thank me in about six months.  If you can find it again... I'm sure you all realize that gifts have a hidden

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-22236459980276448882009-07-19T12:21:00.001-04:002009-07-19T12:21:57.892-04:00

You may not have noticed, but the economy's a in a bit of a mess these days.  Even people with jobs are feeling insecure.  It's always good to have a plan B, no matter what your current status. Trust issues you ask?  Well, yes, but please don't tell anybody!!!! Cool sites I'm loving this week are: Career Renegade.  All about using Social Media to launch yourself and your business idea upon the

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-46889447620981884102009-07-08T17:35:00.001-04:002009-07-08T17:35:01.823-04:00

I'm not really big on chanting or, oh dear God, meditation. Yoga makes me swear. But mantras, for some reason, tickle me pink. Of course, they have to be my kind of mantra. Years ago, a good friend inadvertently supplied my favourite one. He's a few years older than me, not yet at the "You have to be careful" stage, but certainly old enough to start making excuses. One night, when his wife

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-41614047569383402922009-07-03T17:59:00.001-04:002009-07-03T17:59:53.821-04:00

(This is part 2 of the excerpt I started in yesterday's post. So then in the next class, he decides to work on the other end of the food chain and goes on and on about the amoeba and how it never gets anywhere. Well I couldn’t let that one slide past, either. I mean, amoebas have to be just about perfect. They know what their life is about and they just get on with it. Living and reproducing

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-68569849913995647382009-07-02T18:28:00.001-04:002009-07-02T18:28:25.923-04:00

Life is ticking along fairly regularly here.  It makes for a nice existence, but, let's face it, a fairly boring blog.  Because, while I'm endlessly fascinated by the details of my life, my house, my job, I know I can't expect you all to be.  You have your own lives/houses/jobs to worry about. Thankfully, there's always fiction to provide some interest. This is an excerpt from a novel I've been

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-12891590212987084642009-06-26T07:31:00.001-04:002009-06-26T07:31:55.486-04:00

I've spoken before about the difficulties of my hair. For those of you too tired to click, I have bad hair.  Genetically bad. When my cousin was visiting in January, we had a breakfast of joyous discovery, sharing the trials and tribulations of what goes on atop our heads. "Does yours start out with one side curly and one side straight and by the end of the day, they've switched?" "Yes!" "ME

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-16954894196512577372009-06-21T11:38:00.001-04:002009-06-21T11:38:18.239-04:00

In honour of Bloomsday on Tuesday, my brother sent me this lovely link to a rare recording of James Joyce reading from Finnegans Wake. And if that's not enough to thrill your socks off, Michael Bond has written a new Paddington Bear story, in honour of the the International Week of the Refugee. Go nuts!

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-13122336887186341432009-06-19T07:43:00.001-04:002009-06-19T07:43:49.860-04:00

A friend of mine is thirty-something years old and she's not on Facebook. I know, I could hardly believe it myself, but there you have it.  I'm worried for her, because, as I understand it, a Facebook page is required for everyone in her demographic.  Like a social insurance number, or sleep deprivation.  There's no choice. One day the Facebook police will show up at her door.  It'll go a

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-816277865957445412009-06-17T18:25:00.002-04:002010-08-24T10:02:34.526-04:00

I don't know about the rest of you, but I can't delete my spam without taking a quick look at the subject lines first.And even though I know it wouldn't do any good, I'm tempted to hit reply.Because I think someone should tell Sebastein Felix that actually? She really wouldn't like to have her loins ignited. Ignited loins are what drives any sane woman to the suppository aisle of her local

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-89283275122117985082009-06-15T18:59:00.001-04:002009-06-15T18:59:48.895-04:00

Last week I was invited to do a guest post on A Daring Adventure.  Which I did.  Rather badly, as it turns out. And then I totally forgot to tell you about it. So how's your summer looking?

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-74519583838559085062009-06-11T06:47:00.001-04:002009-06-11T06:47:39.755-04:00

1) I made a plan and I stuck to it. 2) I got a lot of sleep. 3) I never took a risk.  

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-37881371837212663752009-06-04T08:14:00.001-04:002009-06-04T08:14:27.004-04:00

I've been doing a lot of gardening lately and I'm not, let's face it, very good at it.  The problem is, I'm never entirely sure what I should be pulling out and what I should be carefully nurturing. So could you please come up with a program that would let us submit a photo of something we've found in the garden and have it instantly identified as something we should cultivate, pull out or maybe

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-50025660409792837982009-06-01T07:36:00.001-04:002009-06-01T07:36:18.223-04:00

Do you ever have a day that sort of sucks?  Nothing truly bad happens, but the petty annoyances add up.  Maybe the alarm clock didn't go off.  On the morning that you needed to iron your last clean shirt. You couldn't find your keys.  The cheque wasn't in the mail.  The boss had his period.  Again. Fame and/or fortune has not come calling and it's your turn to cook dinner.  Again. Nothing

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-88994372243228064742009-05-28T07:14:00.001-04:002009-05-28T07:14:55.264-04:00

How do you manage the really big projects?  Do you put the whole thing on your to do list?  Do you break it down into a step by step process and then put all of it onto your list? Or do you save yourself the stress and put just the next immediate step or two on your list? I really recommend the second option.  Big projects are stressful enough without seeing the notation "Renovate Bathroom" on

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-86392565942974756402009-05-26T07:36:00.001-04:002009-05-26T07:36:55.712-04:00

Ah, the to-do list.  The secret weapon of busy people everywhere.  On it, you list all the things you need to do, want to do, wish you could do from now until the day you die. Then you wonder why it's not making you any more productive. You need to be as ruthless with the clutter on that list as you are with the clutter in your closet. This is not your dream journal, it's just where you try to

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-67857730923839364312009-05-25T07:58:00.001-04:002009-05-25T07:58:41.047-04:00

My life has gotten busier lately.  And it's entirely possible that I'm trying to do too much.  But I love a challenge, so I'll keep trying. I really hate that overwhelmed, geez-I'm-such-a-failure feeling when you get to the end of the day and your to-do list hasn't even been touched. So before I sit down to decide what needs to be done today (and for the rest of the week) I forgive myself in

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-52657736337717055872009-05-24T13:25:00.001-04:002009-05-24T13:25:01.948-04:00

I've been doing some work-related research on social media (yes, I do have a great job!) and, in the process, I've gotten totally hooked on Twitter. Why?  It's one-stop shopping for all the best stuff on the web.  People come across something cool, send out a tweet about it and all you have to do is click the link and there it is, helpful, cool, inspiring information.  The polite thing, of

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-49482164469154616502009-05-20T08:25:00.001-04:002009-05-20T08:25:25.426-04:00

I've been reading a fair bit lately about the best way to start a home-based business (I like to see what my Twitter followers are up to).  The big advice is to do what you're passionate about. So now I'm trying to figure out how I can make money going out to dinner with friends.

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-8008564491887082552009-05-17T10:20:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:33:16.410-04:00

When I was working for myself, staying organized was easy.  But since Alan and I have started working for others and I still want to maintain an online presence (hello!), it's gotten more complicated.  Anything that can help me stay organized AND be fun to work with is a winner in my books. I found just such a winning tool this week.  It's called Now Do This and it's a really simple,

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-9195727637821759992009-05-15T19:04:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:35:36.332-04:00

I'm running a little experiment over on Twitter this weekend.  I'm tweeting a short story in VERY SHORT chapters. You can follow me if you like at: twitter.com/BarbMcMahon Have a great weekend everyone!  

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-421287426675872562009-05-12T18:36:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:51:37.862-04:00

You know who you are. You may be cute but, as I've eventually had to tell every baby of my acquaintance, you can't get by on cute forever.  At some point, you'll have to engage your manners. And that point is now. There is nothing to support your claims that the most recently planted are the tastiest.  And yet, what did I see as I stepped outside this morning?  The utter desecration of all my

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-26664379590172472012009-05-10T17:11:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:33:16.410-04:00

Somehow, in the midst of work-related research, I stumbled across the site A Daring Adventure (by life coach Tim Brownson) and, in particular, this post on How to Be Miserable.  I quickly forwarded the link to myself at home and got back to the task at hand. There's also How to be Even More Miserable.  And for those of us who are in a relationship, do check out How to be Miserable in Marriage or

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-42947415123082562092009-05-07T20:11:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:51:37.862-04:00

Alan and I are moving ahead in our plan to achieve eventual financial stability.  We both have jobs, which, yay! And I will never bitch about work, especially not when there are so many still looking.  But.  There is just one tiny wrinkle in the current situation. I have weekends off.  He does not.  So days off together, of which we once had some, are currently nonexistent.  And I would like

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-41873256430888889682009-05-04T18:54:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:51:37.862-04:00

When you catch a cold, you can expect three to five days of sheer misery, with no sympathy from the people around you, who are all wondering why you'd be foolish enough to catch one in the first place. Honestly, that phrase.  It makes it sound like you went out hunting for it. But then, suddenly, the worst is over and you are on the mend.  You wake up one day and your cold is roughly half as

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-87188664298149600852009-04-30T18:33:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:52:23.510-04:00

I've been working full-time for a couple of months.  And a couple of weeks ago, Alan started back to work full-time, too. We're both gainfully employed, as opposed to the self-employment we've been used to for a really long time. We know what we'll be doing tomorrow, next week, next year, even. And every two weeks or so, we deposit our paycheques in the bank. We can start to pay down the

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-87793040907154334162009-04-24T15:10:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:51:37.862-04:00

It's all Nyquil-tinis and hamsteresque piles of spent Kleenex round here. Have a great weekend, everyone!  I'll be back when I can form a coherent thought.

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-44810193973546720862009-04-22T17:29:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:51:37.863-04:00

I have a cold.  The third one this year, which, given that I typically only succumb once a year, has left me unreasonably cranky. Two nights ago, I went to bed and started coughing.  My husband said, "Should you take some Buckley's?" Me: (coff coff) I don't want to take the Buckley's. Alan:  It'll help you sleep. Me: (hack) I hate the Buckley's.  When they say it tastes terrible... Alan: But

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-52431805940936738322009-04-20T18:27:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:35:56.428-04:00

Money belts are a terrible idea.  They make you look fat and scared. Do the locals wear them?  Do you wear them at home?  Of course not. To assume that all foreigners are thieves is inherently rude. And that thing that you do?  Where you carry your backpack on your front with your arms crossed over it?  Paint a bullseye on your back why don't you?  You are so obviously expecting trouble, it

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-83062272144514315432009-04-08T18:08:00.001-04:002009-05-17T19:50:33.658-04:00

My new job took me away to Africa for the month of March.  I was going to retire this little blog when I got home. But... But I have so many ideas buzzing around in my head and nowhere else to really put them.  So let's try to keep this going awhile longer, shall we? The regular posting will all be happening over at May December Home, if you like food/lifestyle/design blogs.  But if you prefer

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-42516861607238835412009-02-11T08:10:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:36:06.888-04:00

The sound of Lego's hitting the floor can bring it all back. My cousin Deanie had a bucket full of them and when we got together, start of play was always him pouring them out onto the floor and the two of us diving in greedily. This was back in the days before kits and instruction books, when you'd piece together large, lumpen structures and spend almost as much time explaining what they were

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-74056490081396772962009-02-09T18:21:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:49:23.265-04:00

After six solids weeks of deep-freeze, we're having a thaw.  I never thought mud could look so beautiful...

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-62915999719340993812009-02-04T17:57:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:49:23.265-04:00

I've always been a bit of an optimist, I guess, despite certain doleful leanings.  Or maybe I'm naturally dismal and use optimism as a way to keep moving forward.  Either way, I've gotten in the habit of looking on the upside of any situation. In the middle of a renovation, when I can't find my toothbrush and fixing a meal consists of pulling random bits of food out of the fridge and calling it

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-45417997631560719562009-01-30T17:13:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:49:55.788-04:00

This blog needs a rethink. Add it to your To Do list.   Possibly to be taken care of while working at the furniture store.  (What are they gonna do?  Fire me?)

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-30249923585852619552009-01-20T19:08:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:49:46.532-04:00

I started a new job last week.  And I really think this is The One.  I love it so much. So, after I signed my contract, it was time to break up with officially quit my previous job. You may recall that this was the one that "let me go" at the end of October.  Since then, they've called me back in repeatedly.  And I am very grateful, if a little bemused by the extended period of fill-in work. 

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-52773635290316946972009-01-13T13:25:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:49:23.265-04:00

The phone number we were given when we moved into the new house used to belong to a mechanic.  He's no longer in business, but he still gets a lot of phone calls.  And some of them just make me wonder. Lots of people ask if we know where he is now, which is a little strange.  But this is a fairly small city, so I guess there's an outside chance we'd know. But one lady, when told he was no

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-27013479766542262982009-01-06T16:28:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:49:23.265-04:00

And what did I get for Christmas? A cold. It fits perfectly, stuffing up every spare corner of my head and chest. Please be patient while I sit here, crooning softly to the Nyquil bottle, begging it to work its magic. You?  

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-18976768090146655542008-12-31T14:13:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:46:30.172-04:00

Ten hours to midnight and I've got resolutions on my mind.  No, I've already got mine - I'm going to say an immediate yes to any decent offer or opportunity that comes my way - it's all of you I'm worried about. Because, when it comes to New Year's Resolutions, so many of you, TOO many of you, start from the premise of "I am a loathsome creature and must be punished."  Or at least fixed. How

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-22496078947429912302008-12-23T17:25:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:46:30.172-04:00

Can anyone tell me when Christmas stopped being a holiday and became a feeling?  And when it became a moral failing not to feel that feeling? You never hear anyone saying, "I just haven't got that summer vacation feeling this year."  Or, "I just don't feel Arbor Day." So why are we expected to feel Christmas?

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-30176898782414102482008-12-19T16:24:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:40:15.373-04:00

My niece is getting married in a couple of weeks. I saw the happy couple last weekend and to say that they're a little nervous, well...  It's an unfair thing we do to young couples, really, expecting them to know for sure that they're doing the right thing, that they've chosen the right person, forcing them to look into the future and contemplate THE ENTIRE REST OF THEIR LIVES. It's

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-89556371712430735052008-12-17T14:27:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:46:30.172-04:00

They're trimming trees in my neighbourhood today.  And after years of watching The Red Green Show, neither Alan nor I can hear a chainsaw without waiting for the moose calls and shotgun blasts that we're sure will follow.

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-91503979729064960232008-12-15T16:25:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:43:54.450-04:00

Things are pretty much back to normal here. I've been resting up and feeling sorry for myself, which means there's really nothing new to report.  But since some of you were a little worried, I thought I'd check in to let you know that I survived the weekend. Something interesting is bound to occur any minute now and then I'll write a real post. In the meantime, I liked this by Dad Gone Mad.

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-22412786147047607012008-12-12T14:54:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:43:54.450-04:00

Sorry for the radio silence, but I've been sick.  In fact, I spent much of Wednesday in our local emergency department, being poked and prodded and given an I.V. in one of the smallest rooms I've ever been in. At one point, there was the guy from the lab, taking blood samples, the nurse, setting up the I.V., Alan, offering support, and me, in a johnny shirt and my boots (I was on my way to the

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-82562199031390941252008-12-08T16:33:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:43:54.450-04:00

It's becoming more clear to me all the time that I am not a normal person. You've all seen March of the Penguins, right?  The movie that proves that penguins are better than us? There's that scene, after all the mama penguins, with their lovely, loving voices (and French accents!  Who knew?) drop their eggs and wander off for a two-month lunch break. When they get back, the movie tells us that

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-14184560154554010072008-12-04T18:41:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:41:49.561-04:00

I don't use my cellphone very often these days.  So if someone leaves me a message on it, it can take awhile before I hear it.  I turned it on yesterday and there were three messages, two from the woman I make soup with.  And one that started, "Hi, Honeybunny..." A man's voice.  One I didn't recognize.  As I listened further, it was obvious that he had called the wrong number.  The message broke

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-1660932393314175812008-12-02T18:15:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:43:54.450-04:00

I'm veryvery tired today. But I have a question I would like you to try to answer for me: Is it possible for cats to take up bowling?

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-82469894623859908212008-11-30T13:12:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:40:50.505-04:00

As in, Shazam!  NaBloPoMo is done! As in Shazam! I posted every day for 4692  367  30 days straight! As in, Shazam!  I actually finished something I started (which, let me tell you, happens all too infrequently)! As in, Shazam!  I had fun!  And met new people!  As in, Shazam!  Finally a month to hate more than February! Because, we're all going to be back here next year trying again, right?

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-41431657470585878342008-11-29T17:24:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:39:24.166-04:00

I've said No to so many things over the years.  Excitement and opportunities and adventures.  Pleasures both large and small.  People, too, myself mostly. I've also said Yes sometimes, but not nearly enough.  And looking back, the best things in my life have come about when I said a sometimes breathless Yes. Moving to Stratford.  Accepting friendships.  Trying new flavours.  Not forgetting

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-29300189228200147542008-11-28T15:18:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:43:29.184-04:00

Yeah, right. There is no word I could write about, starting with X, that would make it worthwhile for the Internet to raise itself from its tryptophan-induced coma and read it. I'll try again tomorrow.  Sleep well, Internet.

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-69712678923531143712008-11-27T17:05:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:43:54.450-04:00

Did you know you can give up worrying cold turkey, just like cigarettes or crack?  Well, I've done it.  Here's my story. For most of my life, I was a huge worrier.  I mean, if it was an Olympic sport, my picture would be on cereal boxes.  No matter what the situation, I would jump straight from "This is a bit of a problem" to "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE!!!!!" Forgot to make the Visa payment this

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-50823316727004154302008-11-26T16:53:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:41:33.766-04:00

No vavoom today, thankfully.  The chicken turned out fine, the kitchen still stands. When I started my first blog (two years ago this week!), I was trying to promote the food shop my husband and I were running.  I had read that blogs were a great way to promote small businesses. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into. I started reading other blogs, just to see how other people did

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-48922996858980892212008-11-25T15:15:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:40:50.505-04:00

I mean seriously, people!  U?  I got nothin'. So I'm giving you all the day off.  But please stop back tomorrow.  I'm roasting a chicken for dinner tonight.  I haven't actually run the oven on the new stove by myself yet.... So if tomorrow's post is titled "V is for Vavoom", you'll know I blew up the kitchen.  

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-7865010505742415842008-11-24T15:25:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:40:15.374-04:00

I learned to read when I was five.  The book was Fun Parade, a collection of nursery rhymes and stories which various members of my family took turns reading to me. I actually remember when the magic happened.  I pointed to a word and asked my sister, "What does that spell?" And Chris said, "The." I saw it again, further down the page.  "The?" I hazarded. "Yep." And that's when it all fell

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-52534823967879990072008-11-23T10:31:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:39:24.167-04:00

Twice now, we have taken one of our nieces with us on a trip to Paris.  And we hope to do it again, at least a couple of times. The downside to living in Canada is that getting to most of the rest of the world is such a massive undertaking.  It's all just so far away.  And since we economize on the plane tickets as much as possible, the trip there and back can be more of an adventure than it

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-63958659400433841952008-11-22T18:22:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:39:24.167-04:00

I realize that it's ridiculously early to be talking about New Year's resolutions, but I'm constrained by my purely arbitrary decision to go through the month alphabetically.  And since I'm fairly certain you don't want to read about rashes, or rosacea, resolutions it is! I always approach the making of my New Year's resolution with a sense of adventure.  I like to go at it with the idea that,

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-35325925636560961842008-11-21T10:32:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:38:04.043-04:00

I was driving a friend home from breakfast the other day.  Every Monday morning a group of us gather in a local restaurant, eat yummy food and get caught up.  This particular friend has mobility issues, hence the drive home. She asked what I was planning to do with the rest of my day.  I said that I'd like to get to the library, but with all the snow we were getting, the sidewalks might be a bit

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-11652523908096864332008-11-20T16:00:00.002-05:002009-05-17T19:36:54.199-04:00

No, actually, I don't really like it, so if you were hoping to see some, you might as well click something else.I have alluded before to my grade-school health class. What happened was this. At the age of ten, when it had not yet even occurred to me to wonder where babies come from (as the youngest in the family, I had little to no experience of babies, so why would I wonder about them?), I was

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-91990119556026217922008-11-19T16:49:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:35:08.014-04:00

There is a certain kind of person in the world who simply does not know the difference between an opinion and a fact.  This kind of person is certain of his or her rightness.  And is willing to argue forever. But here's the thing.  There is a difference.  A fact can be proven to be right or wrong.  An opinion?  Is just a feeling.  And no amount of arguing is really going to change that.  And

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-2109433532934002902008-11-18T16:08:00.001-05:002009-05-17T19:33:16.411-04:00

I missed doing my Lazy Links on Sunday, what with the thunder and lightning and blizzards and being stranded at my sister's with nothing but pizza, red wine and her comfy, comfy couch (Oh how I have suffered!). So I'll do it today. While I was getting all freaked out about the snow, over at Ali Blah Blah, they were being evacuated because of wildfires.  And she still managed to post!  The

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-52411731381028453832008-11-17T16:01:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:59:30.325-05:00

I realize that I am about to lose any cool I may have managed to accumulate by being a blogger, but it has to be done.  NaBloPoMo is a harsh task master and if you don't give out with the good stuff, Eden Kennedy will track you down.... When I was thirteen, I joined a marching band. And it's just now occurred to me.  Do you suppose that was the reason I didn't date much in high school?  The

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-89939505469893099632008-11-16T22:05:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:58:14.028-05:00

Funniest movie ever! Seriously, the first time I saw it, I laughed so hard at the final scene, I pulled something.  So I was delighted to see it on offer at our local library.  As I pulled it off the shelf, Alan warned that I might not find it quite so funny the second time around. I pulled something this time, too, even though I saw it coming. It's not just that it's a laugh riot, though. 

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-68262670168921582452008-11-15T20:53:00.002-05:002008-11-17T16:59:30.326-05:00

I was at my niece's bridal shower today. I'm not saying I helped myself to anything, but it sure was tempting....Sorry if this post looks a little funny. As I was leaving the party, it had started to snow, which is scary, but I was going to be brave until there was a flash of lightning and a loud clap of thunder. And, really, thunder and lightning during a snowstorm? I ran squealing back into

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-88382527506754322762008-11-14T15:24:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:58:00.349-05:00

That would be Jose Saramago, one of my favourite authors. He was born in Portugal in 1922 and won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1998.  His work has a mysticism tied in with a deep respect for the rights of the individual.  Not beach reading, by any means.  His sentences are long and complex.  His heroes and locations are often unnamed, giving his books a dream-like quality. If you're only

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-1390928905153461082008-11-13T14:04:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:59:30.327-05:00

Seriously, do you have any idea how long thirty-one days is? It's a really, really long time. The fact that I feel like I've hit the wall well before the mid-way point is, yes, fairly alarming to me.  But, I'll cheer myself up by pointing out that I am getting over a cold.  And it's overcast today.  Maybe a nap will help.... I'll be back tomorrow with, hopefully, something decent for "J". How

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-28091643634789999352008-11-12T19:50:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:59:30.328-05:00

OK, all of you, listen up. I've been handing out a lot of resumes and one of these days, I'm going to be called in for an interview.  We need to get some things sorted out beforehand. A job interview is a serious thing.  I need you all to pull together and BEHAVE. No more making me look like a) Bozo the Clown, 2)Herman Munster or c) Anne Murray (especially, for the love of God, not c!), all of

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-53113756390046549772008-11-11T19:30:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:59:30.329-05:00

I just finished reading yet another in a long line of memoirs by people who have attempted to green up their lifestyle, only to realize that it's hard and they don't like it. Which, OK, whatever.  I don't really see it as being that difficult to unplug the dryer and drive less, but maybe I'm exemplary. I just get so annoyed when these things are billed as green-living guides.  Because they're

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-56885870765112851952008-11-10T19:48:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:57:39.266-05:00

You've been warned.  If it offends you, you'll want to click away now.... OK. They're gone. My mother swore like a trucker.  I'm sorry, but it's true.  Never inappropriately, never at anyone, but earthy words came out of her mouth.  She taught me all the swears in my vocabulary, except for one.  That, I had to learn at school. The day my mother broke her hip, it wasn't immediately apparent

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-59773738859737788912008-11-09T09:16:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:51:15.739-05:00

For those of you who are new here, on Sundays I like to post links to other cool sites I've found through the week.  And since I'm participating in NaBloPoMo, I thought I'd feature other brave souls. Actually, this NaBloPoMo thing is so much fun!  With the ginourmous blog roll Eden's put together, it's like we're all in some huge conference room together, wearing name tags and milling around,

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-51481052156845393082008-11-08T15:19:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:59:30.329-05:00

No, hang on, it'll make sense in a minute. Friends were reading the paper with their morning coffee one day, commenting on the stories, as you do. "It says here that evil is on the increase," he said. "Oh?" she replied, thinking that that was an odd thing for our national newspaper to measure.  "Well, I guess... terrorist activity... white-collar crime... gangs?" she reasoned out, as he gave

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-31309853714451958442008-11-07T15:46:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:59:30.330-05:00

Even though we don't actually have a dog of our own (heh, heh.... yet), I really am quite fond of them and consider myself to be honourary auntie to our friends' dogs. Most people I know like a dog with at least a spark of intelligence.  "He's really smart!" they'll say proudly of the little furball chewing on my shoe. Intelligence has its charms, but it also has a few drawbacks.  For a couple

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-41131874874510591642008-11-06T16:22:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:59:30.331-05:00

Despite the fact that I seem willing to up and move at the drop of a hat, any hat, I think I'm probably about average in my willingness to accept change.  After forty-seven years on this earth, I have a pretty clear understanding that change is inevitable.  But that doesn't mean I won't occasionally be cranky about it. It's not that I think change is bad.  It's just that I've come to understand

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-89584307160296671382008-11-05T16:13:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:59:30.331-05:00

People of America, you have restored my faith in your voting abilities! As a Canadian, I can't influence or control what goes on down there, so I don't say much about my political leanings.  But seriously?  If it had gone the  other way?  I was moving to Iceland.  Because that woman?  She was itching to invade something and we're just a little too close for comfort. But you did it!  Barack

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-47180778042785522032008-11-04T19:42:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:59:00.525-05:00

As some of you know, Alan and I took a sabbatical a few years back, to move down to Windsor and look after my mother.  My Dad had died the summer before and Mum, battling MS and encroaching old age, needed help to be able to stay in her home.  I learned a lot in the time we were with her.  And I will always be grateful for the opportunity that we had.  Both because of everything we learned and

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-48225970715988590622008-11-03T15:27:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:57:18.455-05:00

After signing up for NaBloPoMo, I started to worry, just a little, about how I was going to manage.  DID YOU KNOW THERE ARE THIRTY WHOLE DAYS IN NOVEMBER?  WELL THERE ARE!  I counted.  Twice. How on earth would I find something to say, every single day?  I mean, let's face it.  I'm just not that interesting. So I started leafing through my old journals (I knew they would come in handy one of

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-59616060011974705462008-11-02T15:03:00.001-05:002008-11-17T16:56:27.661-05:00

You can have your Christmas.  And your birthdays, anniversaries and first days of Spring.  There's a pleasantness to each and every one of them that I quite enjoy. But for me, the best day of the year?  Has to be this one - the day after Daylight Savings Time ends. It's not that I hate Daylight Savings Time per se, though I do bitterly resent losing an entire hour of sleep right at the start

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-54640961874146522382008-11-01T14:34:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:56:49.160-05:00

I signed up for NaBloPoMo this morning.  Well, when I say signed up, I sent in my URL, as instructed.  It's not listed in the blogroll yet, but it is Saturday and I see Eden hasn't even updated for today ("post before lunch", she suggests helpfully), which makes me wonder a bit about the validity of this whole NaBloPoThing.  I tried to sign up for the NingRingThing, but that was just beyond me

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-46346221598959052602008-10-31T19:14:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:52:19.905-05:00

My oldest sister, Patty, died on Halloween.  Leukemia.  She was eight. This was four years before I was born.  When you come into a family with History, it's not like you're handed the memo at birth. It takes awhile to find out the important details. On Halloween night, we kids would put on our costumes - witches, hoboes or the ever-popular gypsy.  Grab an old pillowcase and be taken

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-2523749304577658492008-10-30T13:17:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:56:27.662-05:00

I went in to work last Friday and my manager gave me the "we've had to make some cutbacks" speech. Remember the scene in Monty Python's The Meaning of Life when the Dad comes home from work and announces that they've closed the mine and he has to sell all the kids for medical experiments? It was like that.  Only we don't have any kids.  Or pets.  Not even any houseplants. And, since I don't

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-68359973441690449022008-10-29T15:22:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:56:27.663-05:00

Moving day last week was cloudy.  Mercifully, the rain only threatened until we were bringing the last load in.  When the skies opened, we ran the stuff off the truck and into the house.  That got the job done quickly, but, as my back kept reminding me, I'M NEARLY FIFTY!!!!!! Once it was all done, Alan told me to go have a hot bath while he ordered the pizza.   So I swished out the tub and

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-52606179500300086882008-10-28T14:14:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:56:27.664-05:00

So, last Monday, we moved.  There was lots and lots and LOTS of stuff and we moved it.  And there was movage and things moved. And now we're all moved in.  And so is all of our stuff. And if I work it just right, we may never have to move again. Because we have lots and lots and LOTS of stuff.  And the thing about moving?  You have to move all your stuff, too.  Each and every piece of it.

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-50568711780074419982008-10-16T19:29:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:54:02.040-05:00

And by that I mean the fellow who rents the apartment above us and not, so much, God. Although, with the state the world's been in since the beginning of time, I'd be surprised if He's getting His full eight hours a night. My neighbour definitely isn't.  I know this because I hear him.  And when he isn't awake in the wee hours of the morning, pacing the floor, bumping into the furniture and

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-3932428256174317622008-10-13T13:34:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:54:02.041-05:00

Her name was Debbie.  And from the first day of grade seven until the end of high school, she was the one.  The one they all picked on.  The one they made fun of, pushed, laughed at, hated.  Tormented. I was the coward in the corner thanking Christ it wasn't me.  I didn't actively participate.  But I didn't help either. When we studied the Holocaust and everyone in class thought they'd be

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-15609614657267673252008-10-03T18:46:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:55:40.301-05:00

Sorry for the sporadic posting.  With three part-time jobs and a disaster of an apartment to fix, I've been having trouble getting to the computer. But I did want to say 'hi'. And share a little story. The new apartment needs a new back door.  The one that's there tends to fall off its hinges if you actually try to open it. So we've ordered a new one.  And Roger came to measure it on Tuesday.

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-31478082309055558672008-09-28T11:02:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:51:15.740-05:00

Two sites to share with you this week.  First up is Library Thing.  It's a social networking site for bookhounds.  You list the books in your library, and find other people with the same weird taste as you  (anybody else with Ulysses and Bridget Jones's Diary in theirs?). You can post and read reviews and do all the usual social networky things. But what's really cool is that they send out

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-1948412000799987632008-09-25T16:54:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:54:02.041-05:00

Well, our very bad tenants appear to have moved on.  Alan was over there today and reports that most of the furniture is gone and a whole lot of crap remains. As he was describing the fun that awaits us, it occurred to me that I've been taking entirely the wrong attitude to the kids who refuse to grow up and the parents who allow them to remain at home long after their "best by" date. So if

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-22529873301689121112008-09-23T13:18:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:55:40.303-05:00

My newest job involves freelance writing and proofreading/editing.  Which is very cool, since I've been an avid reader and writer since the age of five.  I've always wanted to be make my living as a writer, despite the fact that I've let myself be sidetracked repeatedly. I have a cautionary tale that I keep in mind when proofreading anything. A woman I know set herself up as a freelance

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-42303561434627613572008-09-21T10:43:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:55:18.069-05:00

I know it looks like I've mislaid the internet, but I haven't.  I've just taken on another job.  In addition to the one I already have and the one I'm lining up to have. Thankfully, they're all (nominally, at least) part-time.  I'm just not used to the new routine yet.  But since Alan and I are fully committed to our plan of having enough money to be able to eat actual food this winter, I'll

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-11241818521567253112008-09-14T11:28:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:52:19.906-05:00

Would have turned 50 today. This song sums up my feelings pretty well.   Not a day goes by....

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-75897555101228548992008-09-08T19:18:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:54:02.042-05:00

And they're at their chattiest early in the morning.  I think I'm onto what they're saying: Cawcaw! = I'm up!! Ca caw! = OMG!  Roadkill!! Caw caw caw! = Whoa!  It's a stinky one.  Move over! Cawwwwwwwww! = Grade schooler!! Who's with me? Chorus of Caws = No Doreen!!!!  Remember what happened last time!!!! caw = True enough Caw CAW! = The humans are up and they looked pissed! Caaaaaaw! =

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-74205252228302261332008-09-07T18:21:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:51:15.741-05:00

I'm still trying to get caught up with everything I missed while internetless last month.  But I missed A LOT! Julie had her baby. Anna moved.  Petite moved, too (and put photos of the new place on Flickr!). Dumdad thought about giving up blogging, but didn't.  Peach thought about it too, and did (we'll miss you!). And Anna lived (yay!). Now if the rest of you could, please, just sit still

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-32910319847371825542008-09-05T14:37:00.001-04:002008-11-17T16:53:16.740-05:00

Last Thursday, Alan came home from work and announced that he had five days off.  I was free Monday and Tuesday, as well.  For the first time since April, we had two days off in a row, together!  This seemed like a sign from the heavens, so we booked ourselves an overnight at the Little Inn of Bayfield. And it was fabulous.  Bayfield is about my favourite place to escape to and the Little Inn

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-40081254399106085652008-09-03T15:32:00.001-04:002008-09-04T16:42:36.928-04:00

When we were in our last place, Back to School was a hugely happy day for us.  All the junior meth-heads and otherwise delinquent youth were rounded up onto school busses and SENT OUT OF TOWN.  Last year I got up early, just to watch them go. Yesterday was that day.  And as we headed home from our little Labour Day getaway, it suddenly occurred to me where all those kids were being sent.

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-23749528891472008112008-08-29T18:12:00.001-04:002008-09-04T16:41:54.748-04:00

Sorry, but yesterday's post started me reminiscing. While I was working at the hobby shop, the owner brought in a whole bunch of toys for Christmas.  One of them was a plastic ride-on plane that lit up and made all sorts of horrible noises.  It was the sort of thing that first-time parents would love. And, indeed a couple came in and asked if they could put one on layaway. Week by week, they

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-83564760799887575212008-08-28T15:53:00.001-04:002008-09-04T16:42:36.929-04:00

Many years ago, I was hired to work in a retail shop selling hobby supplies. I was really quite pleased with myself.  I was new in town and it had been a few years since I had been in the workforce. One day, while I was at work, feeling very smug and competent, one of the sales reps stopped in for a visit with the manager.  I overheard the following conversation. Sales Rep:  New staff?

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-20862538223555396462008-08-24T14:40:00.001-04:002008-09-04T16:41:54.749-04:00

I know it's the 24th and not the 18th like I said. It's the cable guy's fault.  He was supposed to call first, so Alan could get his butt over to the new, temporary digs and let him in to install the cable hook-up that would allow us to access the sweet, sweet internet. But he didn't call, did he?  NO.  He just SHOWED UP. Our very helpful next-door neighbour offered to let him in.  But the

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2593667796408697680.post-55099675319406618602008-08-03T18:51:00.001-04:002008-09-04T16:41:54.750-04:00

In taking care of some last-minute business before our move, I found myself at our local post office with eighteen pounds of granola to mail. Now, the post office is about a city block away from where we live, so I walked over.  Carrying EIGHTEEN POUNDS OF GRANOLA.  While wearing flip flops (stupid - if you ever find yourself wandering through town in the heat of the day carrying EIGHTEEN POUNDS

Barb McMahon and Alan Maillouxnoreply@blogger.com6