I do not kill bugs. I can’t bring myself to do it. I am never the one to lift the shoe, no matter how big, hairy or fast the insect. I can’t even stand to watch the cats (and now Humphrey, who sometimes thinks he’s a cat) bat the poor little things around for 10 minutes before they actually ingest them.
This does not mean that I like bugs. Nor does it mean that I like having them around. In fact, the opposite is true. When faced with a creature with more than four legs, and after I give out a short high-pitched yelp, I somehow muster the courage to coax the intruder onto the closest portable flat surface, only to clumsily tear through the house to toss it outside. It’s never pretty, but it works. The consequences of said bug left in the house are too frightening to consider (i.e. spider dangling from web into your mouth while you sleep).
This brings me to the point of my post. Last year, Dan left for one of his many trips to China. I was therefore left at home alone to fend for myself. This includes re-setting the home network after a power failure so that the telephone and internet would be functional. Not surprisingly, the cable modem, router and VOIP boxes are high up in the rafters of our basement, just over the washer and dryer.
On this particular day, as I was cursing under my breath (or not so under my breath) about the internet going down for the third time that day, and was climbing up on the dryer to reach the boxes, I saw…
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…and I froze in place. Now I was freaked out. I still had to turn my attention, reach up and fiddle with the plugs, knowing that a spider (the scariest of all the bugs, that is except for the house centipede, which we saw scurry across our restaurant table on our second date – **WARNING** click at your own risk) was within one foot from where I was standing. I doubt he was happy to see me either, though I can’t be 100% sure.
I finished resetting the network and I slowly climbed down and backed away, careful not to disturb him. At least if he was in his web I could keep close watch and, better yet, be sure he wasn’t going to come after me (because spiders often do).
That was over a year ago. And since then, each time I go to do laundry, Ned (as I like to call him) and I have a little stare down. I keep my eye on him; he keeps all 6 of his on me. We have an understanding though. I leave him alone; he eats smaller bugs that have found their way into the house. I would prefer him to live somewhere else, but he’s chosen our basement beside the dryer. And I’ve learned to live with it.
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And now we are moving. A tiny part of me worries about Ned. We have a history together. We’ve shared many dark and light loads, he in his web, and me in my jammies. And now he will soon be forced to move on to a new home…if he even makes it that far. I wish only good things for him: plentiful meals, warm air and the solitude he craves. He deserves the best. Farewell, dear Ned. At laundry time, you will be missed.
I won’t miss his weird stripey legs though. They are gross.
Farm Boy is a local Ottawa grocery store, and it is this week’s recipient of the Outstanding Achievement in the Field of Excellence.
Farm Boy “makes me want to be a better person.” They have a large produce department that is fresher, has more variety, and is usually cheaper than the big chains. Their meat department is bursting with goodness, including Alberta beef, excellent sausages, and whole rabbits (much to Shannen’s chagrin). They have a cheese and deli section that I could spend hours in, requesting free sample after free sample. A newly added “take home meals” section near the entrance has a dozen mouthwatering temptations available every day in an attempt to halt your trip right there and not bother choosing ingredients for your own creation. And their bakery has choices like “Belgian Farmer Loaf” and “Walnut Rye Bread”.
High praise, right? Well, there are two items at Farm Boy that, if they sold only these two, I would still visit once a week.
- Bulk-packed sour jubes. A bargain at $5.50 per kg, and worth three times that. Each of the five colors is a different flavour explosion. My favourite is red, but I would never pick through the bag and eat all the red ones before anyone else could get to them. đ
- Farm Boy brand pitas. We are pita connoisseurs, enjoying them often as after work snacks with some nice hummus. Farm Boy’s pitas are always soft-tear fresh, taste great, and come in a zip-loc bag to keep them happy longer!
We are ecstatic that our new house will be 2.4 kms away from the nearest Farm Boy, down from 11.1 kms.
If you’re in Ottawa and haven’t checked it out – this is your chance!
Sonja and I had the pleasure of attending the Senators game at Scotiabank Place on Monday night (“Scotiabank Place” is probably the most bland, uninspiring name for a sports arena ever, so from here on in, I’ll refer to it as “the Vault” to fool you into thinking that Ottawa is hipper than it is). A good time was had by all – the good guys won, McGratton (!) scored, and the Sens got 6 goals, giving everybody in the building a free slice of cardboard Pizza Pizza. Not bad, not bad. Surely there’s nothing rant-worthy about such a successful evening, right?Â
WRONG!
The parking lot situation at the Vault (see how much cooler that is?) is the most excrutiating, frustrating experience one can endure in this city. The massive parking lots have (at most) two exits, and no defined rows or attendants to direct the flow of traffic, so everybody just drives straight for the exits making it impossible for anybody to get out – it’s like trying to squeeze a cat through a keyhole (or something along those lines – you get the idea).
Now you might be saying, “But mark, that’s what happens when you have 18000 cars trying to exit a lot all at once. Get your head out of your ass!”
Not true, friends. I’ve had the pleasure, on numerous occasions, of attending baseball games at Safeco field in Seattle. Not only do they get a lot of walk-up traffic because that stadium isn’t in the middle of absolutely nowhere (that’s a rant for another time), but they also have the most well-organized, well-designed parking lot and exiting-strategy I’ve ever seen. The whole parking lot is empty in 15 minutes, thanks to plenty of exits, well-timed traffic lights, and police officers with those glow-stick things directing everybody where they have to go. 15 minutes. incredible.
Now, maybe there have been vast improvements in strategic parking lot design in the few years between the building of the Vault and Safeco field, but I doubt it. The Vault was built in the middle of nowhere, giving them a clean slate to design whatever parking lot system they wanted, and they somehow managed to do the worst job possible. Was an urban planner even involved in the plans? Common sense would say “yes, of course”… the results, sadly, say “hell no”.
“take the bus! you’ll skip the whole ordeal!”
Not so. Of course, if the planners of this catastophe had been smart (they weren’t), they’d have given the busses their own exit onto the Queensway and their own lanes from the Vault back into the city so people would be more motivated to take the bus (faster + enviro friendliness). Unfortunately, the busses use the same exits as the cars, and the bus-only lanes don’t start until somewhere after Kanata, so the bus is even worse – instead of sitting in the comfort of your own car listening to your own music while you don’t move, the bus offers the chance to sit beside some stoned/drunk teenagers making out with each other while you don’t move. Serenity now!
The whole situation is ridiculous, and if anybody reading this was involved in the design of the Vault’s parking system, you suck at your job, and you’re probably a jerk.
Last 5 songs heard on my iPod: âSympathy for the Devilâ – Rolling Stones, “She Moves She” – Four Tet, âThe Other Sideâ – Dismemberment Plan, âHelicopterâ – Bloc Party, âOrange Car Crashâ – As The Poets Affirm
Humphrey Hound has brought about a few things in our house:
- a three-fold increase in slobber on clothes, bedding, and car windows,
- a seven-fold increase in cat, pet and Shannen hair accumulating on all horizontal surfaces and blowing tumbleweed-like across our hardwood prairie when the windows are opened,
- a heightened realization that a small house and no fenced backyard make puppyhood less than fun.
And though very few of these things would be changed by it, these three have been our sole motivation for taking the plunge and buying a new house. We are the proud owners of a new Minto home in Barrhaven (front view, back view), the Paloma 3 Bonus Room.
Our search started a few weeks ago, when one of us started to dig around the Ottawa MLS site and Grapevine, the Ottawa “for sale by owner” site, seeing what was available in the resale market. There are some wonderful homes outside of Ottawa metro, in places like North Gower and Greely. For $275,000 to $325,000, you can get a nice bungalow or 2-story on 5 acres. One we saw was 10 acres, with a dog kennel business and a maple syrup farm! These were all very tempting, until we realized that Shannen’s commute would be punishing each and every day she works downtown. Not fun.
Friends of ours pointed us to builder inventory homes … houses that are nearing completion that do not have buyers yet. The builders need to choose cupboards, flooring, etc as the house nears completion unsold, so to tempt potential buyers, they put in free upgrades to make them move. However, there is also usually a reason why these inventory homes have remained unsold. In our experience, it is because these houses front or back onto busy roads.
That is somewhat the case for our new abode. The front of our house faces what is now a 2 lane artery, but will become a 4 lane artery. And according to the City of Ottawa’s Official Plan, a 6 lane artery in 2021. I find that somewhat hard to believe, but we will have sold it to the next proud owners by then anyway. This small bit of cruddiness is offset by the large back yard, a corner lot, a double garage, a nice ensuite bathroom, a great kitchen/sitting room layout where we’ll spend most of our time, and the choice of everything inside the house except the cupboards!
We signed the papers last night, take possession on June 26th, and are off to the Minto Design Center on Monday to choose our blue tinted hardwood and pink carpeting.
So come and visit us in July! Within a few weeks of moving:
- Slobber levels will be back to critical.
- A larger hardwood prairie will boast an even larger harvest of hair tumbleweeds.
- Sod won’t be delivered until at least August, so Humph will be bored in the house.
A new house, the solution to all of our problems đ
âIf you want happiness for an hour, take a napâŠâ Chinese Proverb
Iâve long been a lover of naps. Not in a romantic way, but in severe heart-achy way if a nap and I have been separated too long. And itâs always been that way. As far as I know, I didnât complain as a child when it was nap-time. And in high school, each post-school day began with a snack and then a nap. I mean, what better way to prepare for dinner? And in university I mastered the art of the nap. I even taught myself how to nap for a 10 or 15 minute stint in order to fully rejuvenate after class and before having to leave for work.
“Think what a better world it would be if we all, the whole world, had cookies and milk about three o’clock every afternoon and then lay down on our blankets for a nap.â Barbara Jordan
So it should come as no surprise that my love of naps continues on. My most recent daily ritual included a short nap between 4:30 and 5:00, when Dan would arrive home. He was sure to find me curled up in a ball, on the couch, âwatchingâ Oprah. I was happy there. I looked forward to this âmeâ time. Frankly, I couldnât get home fast enough some days.
“But the important thing is to lie down and fall asleep. That little nap means you wake up fresh again and can continue.â James Levine
And then we got Humphrey. Now donât get me wrong, I love my dog. Adore him, in fact. But the little guy wants nothing to do with the afternoon nap. He sleeps all day waiting for us to return, so he isnât the least bit tuckered out when I appear at the door. He wants to PLAY! And RUN! And give face kisses and wet nose rubs if either of these desires is not fulfilled immediately.
So, in honour of National Nap Day (ok, it was yesterday), I wanted to pay tribute to the nap. These little darlings have been a part of all my good days, helped me get through some of my bad days and rewarded me on my worst days. I miss them dearly and look forward to their return. No matter how far the distance or how long the separation, I know naps and I will always be lifelong friends.
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Kris - That brought a tear to my eye.
Farewell, Ned.
Carole - What a sweet and sad story, Shan. I can’t believe you’ve had the same spider living in your basement for over a year.
You were so right in warning about the picture of that house centepede…DISGUSTING!! It brings back some not so fond memories of our apartment on Gilmour. We had one of those crawl in behind a wall. It was huge. I didn’t sleep for a week.
Shan - We had quite a few co-habitating with us in my first apartment in Kingston. They may actually be my worst nightmare.
They give me the severe heebie jeebies.
Carole - So, I had a spider encounter on the bus of all places this morning. I stood up to get off then bus when I looked down and saw what I would call a large spider on my pant leg. I thought of you and your kindness towards little Ned as I tried to gently brush the spider off with my purse. It crawled around my leg and then disappeared under the cuff of my pants. I had visions of being this crazy woman trying to tear my boots off at the Bank Street bus stop.
I don’t know what happened to the spider, but I don’t think it will survive the hustle and bustle of the 95 or Bank Street. Maybe it’s in my boot and I just don’t know it. I’m afraid to look.
So, I’m off to a great start on this Friday morning! The way I see it, things can only get better.
Shan - I try to avoid the ‘crazy lady’ reaction to bugs that have found their way onto my person as well, but it never fails that I scream and then run around in circles thinking that they may not be able to cling on while I’m moving. How dumb of me? Have you ever noticed that a spider on a car windshield can hold on for dear life up to about 30+ kms per hour? That being said, there’s a good chance that my running, shaking and the high speed swatting of my limbs will do no good in getting rid of them.
Carole, If I was you, my boots would have already been off, shaken and banged on the ground…just in case.
Man, I’m pathetic.
Liz - How ’bout those Virginia Sprogs, Shan? I know you’re missing those about now…