Monthly Archives: April 2007

Tow truckin’ it

The morning went well for a change. The kids were happy to have eggos on the go, without syrup or the drink of the week, TMNT fart juice. We piled in the car, dog and all. I was agitated that the check engine light had turned off after 5 days of steady illumination…my appointment 2 days later would prove a complete waste of time without the dammed light on. I willed it to re-light.

After the kids were deposited at the sitters, Mandy and I made our way to her spa appointment. We didn’t get far. The car started to sputter and then the check engine light began dancing to an uncontrollable beat. The car stopped, right outside the entrance to the elementary school. School buses and busy parents dodged to the left and right, annoyed but still pleasant, as far as I could tell.

The ETA on roadside assistance was approximately 1 hour so Mandy and I walked home. The spring fur balls would remain for another day. Once she was safely barking her face off inside the house, I made my way back to the car. Being a good canine citizen and not wanting to tempt karma, I collected her droppings from the walk home, and fantasized about leaving them somewhere at the car dealership…don’t you even think about touching that link.

Three calls to work, 2 canceled appointments and 1 (long-overdue) crafted thank you note later, three guys in a tow truck arrived. I’m not sure exactly why there were three…oh yeah, it was training day. The funny thing was they all seemed to be in charge. I couldn’t tell exactly who was training who, unless it was, of course, me being trained in the art of, ‘just don’t make small talk, this will all be over soon’.

They sat me in the front seat and proceeded to coax and ram my car onto the truck. I think I heard it crying for me. I wasn’t listening, it deserved the rough handling. I was secretly hoping it would fall off the back and innocently roll off a cliff, never to be seen again. I was even willing to part with my favourite yoga mat and Justin’s most prized, “real” hockey stick, nestled securely in the trunk.

The drive to the dealership…don’t touch it…was…more male bonding than I had all of last year. The guy behind me was having phone sex with his girlfriend, “I love you…why? Because you take care of me…I think you know what I mean.” Fortunately, and I mean for me, he was interrupted by his other cell phone before the climax.

The driver then took a call, became agitated and threw his phone against the front window. Silence loomed large. “Wife?” phone-sex guy asked. “No, worse…my mother,” was the reply. That awkward exchange was satisfyingly cut short, when a call came over the radio, “When you’re done there can you call me, there’s a baby locked in a car.” I wanted to scream, “forget about me…go get the kid.” I didn’t. It wasn’t hot out, the child was likely not in any danger or they would have called the cops, right? I mean I just wanted to get to the dealership…ah, ah, ah…as quickly as that tow truck haulin my sorry-ass car would go.

Once we arrived, phone-sex guy kindly offered me his greasy, black, rubber-rubbed hand to help me down from the truck. Now, I’ve been in a truck or two in my day, and didn’t actually need the help, but didn’t want to appear rude or manly. I gently brushed the cleanest part of his jacket I could find, somewhere just above the elbow, and…I was free. Scarred but not cut.

My cab ride to the office was much more relaxing as was the return 7 hours later knowing my bank account was only dented $44. My warranty runs dry in August and it’s cliff or sale for my 2001 Jetta. I think every part has been replaced or poked at least once. This time it was the ignition switch and something was blocking the air filter, likely Mandy’s fur.  

That’s what I get for buying a car in the rain. It looked so shiny and clean and worthy sitting there on the lot that fateful day at the dealership.



I’m discovering an enviable place. It’s filled with passion, love and light that doesn’t dimmer, even when a storm raves. It’s where I want to be with all my heart. Open and full and still able to accept more. Where life is fun and joyful, serious but not dry, reaching not pulling and accepting not diminishing. Tears roll for the life I’ve created not wanted. There’s no blame, just acceptance and the lessons learned. Time moves me forward. I gather the greastest parts of me. My enviable place awaits. 


The trampoline is finally here. It takes up most of my backyard and is likely an eye-sore for the neighbours, but I don’t care. It’s amazing how much lighter you feel, in mood and mass, when you experience life mid-air. My kids and I are birthing lots of great memories with games like:  popcorn, egg breaker, Johnny butt cracker, face plant and genie in a bottle. Plus, they are content to be completely caged in the backyard, burning off all the extra energy that seems to cause wild mood swings and random attacks on each other.

The health benefits of bouncing are enormous. Since the lymphatic system doesn’t have a natural pump, bouncing is really great for keeping things moving and ridding your body of toxins and unwanted deposits. And, the cardiovascular benefits are swift and effortless. Your heart-rate rises quickly and it’s easy to maintain because you just don’t want to stop. It’s a fun, low-impact and strenuous workout. I have a physio appointment Monday morning. I’m sensing we’ll be covering new ground.

While I’m blessing it with safe white light, I’m grateful to have such an efficient and delicious toy.


“Mommy, I made stars today.”

“You did! That’s great. I can’t wait to see them.”

“Do you like stars Mommy?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Because they are shiny?”

“Shiny and bright and they twinkle.”

“Mommy, you’re my star.”

—does it get better than that?


If we can’t remember, it’s better left forgotten. How did that go? I’m too tired to think past the moment, backward or forward. I’m staying here for a while and trying to refuel.


“What is the matter with you?” she asked.

“I’m afraid I’m losing my grip and it feels like the world is shifting,” he replied.

“Oh, is that all?”

“That’s not big enough?” he asked.

She pulled him close. “The world is shifting.  Go with it.” 


Falling into yesterday
and living there a while
reaching out to no one
to find a steady hold

Taking off the top
and pealing back the layers
finding peace and comfort
and space amid the knots

Cleansing old habituals
and drowning them in fire
finding light and hope
larger than despair

Out Loud

Life was noisy today, internally and externally. Lots of surface stuff going on and lots of rumblings. The kind of rumblings that bring change, which is good, I’m ready.

I spent nearly $20 on stupid party favours so I could get my kids out of WalMart without a scene. The $20 turned out to be the price of admission…to the scene. I wonder what people think. I don’t care actually, but I do wonder. I’m sure any parent is at least empathetic, if not sympathetic, and just wants to hold me…that would be nice. When I see well-behaved kids, I always look for the fishing line that’s holding them down.

I used to tremble when I took my kids to the store. If they left my sight for a second, I would panic. Now it’s earshot and I’m glad to give them some freedom…or is that get some freedom. The trouble is that earshot can take them half way across the store and way past the arm’s reach I need to slam-dunk them into the cart. Following a10-second period of shock, they usually end up crawling around, under, over and through the cart until I’m ready to scream and release them from captivity.

Luckily they are still young enough to care if I leave so I’m often being followed by a short, blond pair sobbing a concert of, “don’t leave without my brother and me.” I’m sure they know I would never leave them. I better survey that.

They are sleeping now and it’s much too quiet in here. I prefer life out loud.

Miles ahead

I wonder sometimes what it would be like if I could go back and veer in a different direction. A friend of mine told me that it’s a good idea to move around a lot in your career to experience different workplaces so you can truly recognize your worth and ability. I’m on career-place number two and the first lasted nearly 19 years. The ease in which I embraced my new surroundings is a bit of an amazement to me and proves my friend’s theory. The way I feel in this new role is miles ahead of where I was before and it’s just the beginning.

Just suppose

A dear friend and co-worker of mine is moving on for a year. She will place herself in a new world on Monday morning and our office will be far less inspired. Tonight we laughed and laughed to a comedic jamboree. It seemed a fitting send off—for laughter is the pillar of our relationship. We laugh at things that are funny, we laugh at the unexpected, and quite often the expected. We laugh until we cry and cry until we laugh. There’s a deep connection between our souls and it was evident on our first encounter. I’ll never forget the day I met Schmetta. But just suppose I hadn’t, what a huge piece of life I would have missed.

May your soul guide you to new heights and your wisdom continue to inspire the souls around you. With all my love.