Lucky Ducky Goosey

I've been laughing my ass off ever since I saw this in the paper. I don't think hilarity was the intention of the campaign but what can you expect from a) the loonies in the animal rights movement and b) the general misconceptions that abound about BDSM?

The fight over foie gras

Animal rights group wants Canadian-owned Selfridges to stop selling liver of force-fed birds

Apparently geese don't have a gag reflex, so I'm thinking wow not only do they enjoy D/s but they can deep throat like crazy!

Happy Victoria Day! Really.

"We are not amused"

Mother's Day

This was sent to me in an email and I thought it was lovely.

I'm trying very hard these days to remember my mother more sympathetically than I have in the past. She's been dead seven years now and while I know she had mental problems and probably couldn't help a lot of the pain she inflicted, I will never have the satisfaction of forgiving her to her face...even though she would have thought I was nuts! In the end I need to forgive her and move on with my life. She did the best she could I suppose given that she never would go for the help she so obviously needed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in
their arms, wiping up puke laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry
Kool-Aid saying, "It's okay honey, Mommy's here".
Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end soothing crying
babies who can't be comforted. This is for all the mothers who show
up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their
blouses and diapers in their purse.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew
Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see.
And the mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.
This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging
on their refrigerator doors.
And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at
football , hockey or soccer games instead of watching from the
warmth of their cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see
me, Mom?" they could say, "Of course, I wouldn't have missed it for
the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery
store and swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and
scream for ice cream before dinner. And for all the mothers who
count to ten instead, but realize how child abuse happens.
This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and
explained all about making babies. And for all the (grand) mothers
who wanted to, but just couldn't find the words.
This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can
eat.
For all the mothers who read "Goodnight, Moon" twice a night for a
year. And then read it again. "Just one more time."
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their
shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who
opted for Velcro instead.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their
daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for every mother whose head turns automatically when a
little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their
own offspring are at home -- or even away at college.
This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with
stomach aches, as suring them they'd be just FINE once they got
there, only to get calls from the school nurse an hour later asking
them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find
the words to reach them.
For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their
14 year olds dye their hair green.
For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and
the mothers of those who did the shooting.
For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front
of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from
school, safely.
This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be
peaceful, and now pray they come home safely from a war.
What makes a good Mother anyway?
Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a
baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same
time?
Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your
son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone
for the very first time?
The jolt that t takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at
2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby?
The panic, years later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just
want to hear their key in the door and know they are safe again in
your home?
Or the need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when
you hear news of a fire, a car accident, a child dying?
The emotions of motherhood are universal and so our thoughts are
for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep
deprivation...
And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.
Single mothers and married mothers.
Mothers with money, mothers without.
This is for you all. For all of us.
Hang in there. In the end we can only do the best we can. Tell them
every day that we love them. And pray.
Please pass along to all the Moms in your life.

From the Backseat Driver

Can you all keep a secret? This is what I got Allan for his birthday...which was yesterday, and that he's not getting until Friday.
















He's wanted a radio controlled car for years so now he can play on the street with all the other kids.

The Allan Update

I'm very lucky to have such wonderful readers and commenters. Thank you so much for all the kind words of encouragement in my comments and email. It helped more than you can imagine.

The good news is; he had his blood pressure checked again and it's back to normal.

The bad news is; our doctor has no idea how long this fix will hold. He says it could be a few weeks, a couple of months, a year...there is no way of knowing.

Our fingers are crossed that he can carry on for a long time before the medications need to be increased. This is the way things were before; his symptoms kept worsening and the doctors had to keep increasing his meds to control them until they couldn't increase them anymore and the surgeries were the last resort.

So far his legs haven't swelled up badly so it seems the dosage of diuretic is keeping that under control, but Allan is understandably unhappy about having to take it again.

He's back to being 'special' and I'll just have to deal with it. I can do this.

Here We Go Again

ALLAN: I still feel tired and I still nap every day.

ME: Yes, but now it is just a nap. Remember before the surgeries when you literally couldn't keep your eyes open and had to have a rest as soon as you got up in the morning? And now your heart has a normal rhythm so when I lay my head against your chest I hear a nice steady beat. Just like a regular person!

Despite my nauseating optimism, Allan has been insisting that he hasn't been feeling well. He keeps saying he doesn't really feel better than before the pacemaker and ablation surgeries and I keep saying yes you do.

Stupid me. It turns out he really wasn't well and the headaches he's been having that I chalked up to the dental surgery he recently underwent, had nothing to do with his mouth and everything to do with his blood pressure.

Allan showed me a large, horrible looking, black bruise-like mark on his right leg last night and told me it was very painful. He said it had appeared on a different part of his leg a few days earlier, disappeared and now come back worse than before.

He saw our GP first thing this morning. His opinion is that the ablation has failed and he needs to be put back on the medications that were reduced and removed asap. His blood pressure is sky high and the black marks are an indication of some kind of break down of the blood vessels due to the high blood pressure. I'm not exactly sure of the medical explanations, but you get the idea...things aren't good. He sent him for a cardiogram and told him to call both his cardiologists to see what they want to do.

We have heard from the nurse-practitioner who works with Allan's main cardiologist and she had nothing but praise for our GP. She said he did exactly the right things and she's not sure the specialist will make any further changes at this time. We are waiting to hear back. The other specialist is the surgeon and he's away until next week.

I'm so grateful that we got lucky with this bruising as a warning. Allan could have had a stroke and I would have still been telling him how much better he was feeling. I'm such an asshole. Perhaps it justifies his grouchiness and erratic behaviour over the past few months, too. I hope the meds will help because things have been tough, very tough.

But for now the goal is to get the medications balanced again with the hope that with the pacemaker and ablation, maybe the dosages won't have to reach such epic amounts. I'm just speculating, what do I know?

Just for Fun

I had to move that cancer post down already and lighten things up around here.

Three Jewish women get together for lunch. As they are being seated in the restaurant, one takes a deep breath and gives a long, slow "oy." The second takes a deep breath as well and lets out a long, slow "oy." The third takes a deep breath and says impatiently, "Girls, I thought we agreed that we weren't going to talk about our children."

Anything worth saying is worth repeating a thousand times.

The Valley of the Shadow

Pancreatic Cancer is the fourth leading cause of cancer death. It is more deadly than any of cancer's big four - breast, prostate, lung and colorectal and the number of fatalities is growing at an alarming rate. There are no early detection methods and no cure.

And yet it seems that the celebrities can't get inline fast enough to lend their names to raising money and awareness for lung cancer; "The Soprano's" actress Jamie-Lynn Sigler is a celebrity spokesperson to the American Legacy Foundation's Cirle of Friends project, a network of women supporting one another in their efforts to be 100% smokefree. Colorectal cancer; Katie Couric has had a huge impact the need for screening and after undergoing her own colonoscopy on air "the team reports that colonoscopy rates nationwide jumped more than 20 percent in the days and months after Couric's on-air test on the “Today Show.” The researchers have dubbed the phenomenon the "Katie Couric Effect". And of course, breast cancer; pink is in. Reese Witherspoon has just been chosen by Avon as their global ambassador (whatever that is), Nicole Kidman, Vivica A. Fox, Glenn Close, Jewel, Melissa Etheridge, Kylie Minogue, Sheryl Crow...you get the idea. Like Couric's response, when Kylie Minogue's breast cancer diagnosis was made public, it spurred so many women into getting their breasts checked that the Medical Journal of Australia reported a 40 percent increase in bookings for mammograms.

But sometimes, celebrity diagnoses don't elicit a response at all. When the announcement was made that Italian tenor Luciano Pavarotti had pancreatic cancer there was barely a ripple on the public's radar. I remember the same thing had happened in the early '90's when Michael Landon announced that he had pancreatic cancer. And it's happened with Patrick Swayze - there was that first outburst of shock and disbelief...he's only 55. It's not true, he can fight it, it's not as bad as first reported, etc.,...and now it's tapered off and while I hope I'm wrong, the next announcement will be of his death or imminent death in a few weeks or months. Some of the other celebrities who have died of this killer; Joan Crawford, Juliet Prowse, Rex Harrison, Richard Crenna, Jack Benny, Brock Peters and Fred Gwynne. Music Industry’s greats like Dizzy Gillespie, Count Basie, Harry Mancini and Arif Mardin. Golf founders Eli Callaway of Callaway Golf and Gary Adams of Taylormade. Also anthropologist Margaret Mead, author Irving Wallace, TV game show creator Mark Goodson and President Jimmy Carter’s father, mother, sister and his brother Billy.

And my father and younger brother. They died ten years apart, my dad was sixty-three - he died ten days before his birthday and six months from the time he was diagnosed, almost to the day. Stephen was thirty-six and died ten days after my birthday and six weeks from the time he was diagnosed almost to the day. They had the same family doctor and specialist and in the ten years separating their deaths there had been no. f'ing. progress. made. in. treating. this. cancer!
Research spending per pancreatic cancer patient is $1145, the lowest of any leading cancer

I don't begrudge the money that goes to breast cancer. My aunt died from it as did a friend. but do we have to put tits or an ass on a picture of a pancreas to get funding for this cancer? I'm beginning to wonder who has to die before a 'sexy' celeb will decide to take on an admittedly difficult case and raise some money so that some real progress can be made. You don't see any large corporations rolling out Pancreatic Cancer Campaigns do you? I guess they figure they wouldn't be big money makers huh? Is it because the pancreas aren't visible like breasts are? Or because the 'kill rate' is so high that the corporate executives figure they don't want to be associated with a losing project?

Ironically, Katie Couric's sister Emily Couric died of pancreatic cancer and Katie has not chosen to tackle it. Steven Jobs of Apple is that most miraculous of all beings; a pancreatic cancer survivor. Being such a high profile person [not to mention fabulously wealthy] he would seem to be the natural spokesperson to start winning the fight against this cancer. But apparently not.

"Jobs can't even get behind causes that would seem to carry deep personal meaning, let alone lasting social importance. Like Lance Armstrong, he is a cancer survivor. But unlike Armstrong, Jobs has so far done little publicly to raise money or awareness for the disease."

Did you know that November is National Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Month?

Neither did I.

The US Senate and House of Representatives has designated November as Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Month. On June 14th, 2006, the House of Commons advocated that November be National Pancreatic Cancer Awareness Month in Canada as well.

Did you know that there is a ribbon for Pancreatic Cancer?
Or a wristband?

Neither did I.







In the last few months a true hero has appeared in the Pancreatic Cancer fight. You've probably seen or heard him on Oprah,Diane Sawyer or possibly YouTube...Randy Pausch the computer science professor from Carnegie Mellon University. I encourage you to take the time to watch the full length version of The Last Lecture. It's funny and beautiful, like the man. I only meant to watch a couple of minutes and wound up glued to my screen. I've included the very condensed version he did for Oprah [sigh, yeah I know!] after the YouTube of his plea to Congress for funding for research. He's a compelling speaker and not morbid in the least.











Since I started writing this the world has found out that Photojournalist Dith Pran died on March 30th. Pol Pot's Khmer Rouge regime failed to kill Mr. Pran, but it took Pancreatic Cancer only three months from diagnosis.


And just a couple of nights ago we received a phone call from one of my cousins to tell me that one of my other first cousins (on my dad's side of the family) has just been diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer.

Not a Wine & Cheese Party

First this post was going to be about my Frozen Shoulder and how it's made blogging difficult for the last few weeks, and then I had a long post nearly finished about Pancreatic Cancer, it's effect on my family and the terrible lack of research money to fight this most deadly disease. But in a conversation with my GP about my family's cancer history in general and Pancreatic cancer specifically, he decided to send me for a blood test that measures amylase and lipase to help evaluate how well the pancreas is functioning.

We got a call from his office yesterday to come in about the test results. They were abnormal. Not dramatically so, but given my family's shitty history I'd be lying if I said I'm not scared. I'm to stay away from wine and cheese (sounds like a party doesn't it?) and repeat the test in a week.

Nice Doggie - Because This Doesn't Hurt My Shoulder

Dog For Sale : free to good home.

Excellent guard dog.

Owner cannot afford to feed him anymore, as there are no more thieves, murderers, or molesters left in the neighborhood for him to eat.

Most of them

knew him as 'Holy Shit'

Oper delay

My stupid shoulder is much worse and I have flunked out of physiotherapy. :( Two therapists gave it their best with me but after twice weekly sessions for two months and several rounds of acupuncture thrown in for good measure to try and reduce the pain, they cried uncle and said 'buh-bye'. Allan was taught how to tape my shoulder because the support of the taping is the only thing that gives me some relief and when I saw the doctor after that he decided another shot of cortisone might be helpful while I wait for my appointment with the other specialist that he's arranging.

This is a very long way of saying that my arm is really, really sore and holding it in position to keyboard hurts a whole bunch so even though the Oprah post is half way done, I can't complete it until the pain from the injection settles down.

Laters 'gators/

Marriage is a wonderful invention: then again, so is a bicycle repair kit. Billy Connolly

In every marriage more than a week old, there are grounds for divorce. The trick is to find, and continue to find, grounds for marriage. Robert Anderson

A good marriage would be between a blind wife and a deaf husband. Honore de Balzac

Marrying for love may be a bit risky, but it is so honest that God can't help but smile on it. Josh Billings

Don't marry the person you think you can live with; marry only the individual you think you can't live without. James C. Dobson

Thirty five years ago a very young twenty one year old girl walked down the aisle of the synagogue to stand under the chupah next to her Prince Charming, her knight in shining armour, and her best friend. It was pretty crowded under that wedding canopy and the expectations of both bride and groom were probably a bit unrealistic to begin with.

I brought a LOT of baggage with me thanks to my mother and it took nearly twenty five years to finally resolve the problem by ending the relationship with her. But I thought my big, strong, clever husband was going to solve that delicate situation...somehow. The awfulness of her effect on me reached such epic proportions that we were seriously considering moving to Australia at one point just to put enough distance between us until Allan quite rightly decided that his parents didn't deserve to be punished by being deprived of their only child's presence as well as any children that would come along. After all, he had made them wait a long time for a daughter-in-law by not marrying until he was forty two and to say they were impatient a for grandchild would be putting it mildly. He just couldn't do it to them.

I discovered that Allan wasn't quite the all knowing, all seeing perfect man I thought he was. (I said I was young) And of course as I've blogged about many, many times I discovered over the years that sexually we were and are probably completely ill suited to each other.

But ignoring that little detail for the time being...over the past thirty five years we have managed to raise two children who are rather lovely human beings-are gainfully employed, have boyfriends/girlfriends, and best of all(g)enjoy our company. We have also supported each other through the deaths of Allan's parents which was thankfully quick and my father's which wasn't. My younger brother's diagnosis of cancer and his decision to move in with us which was very hard as was his death in six short ghastly weeks. And my mother's passing a few years later. And of course Allan's illnesses these past few years have tested us again and again we have seen some very dark days but I think we've done pretty damn well all things considered.

All in all, do I have a perfect marriage? No, after all these years I wish I could say I have it all figured out and have worked out all the issues. But I can't because life has a way of surprising you and just not being neat and tidy. But I married a very good man and I know he loves me in his own imperfect way just as I do love him even though he can't give me everything I need. Does anyone get everything?

A successful marriage requires falling in love many times, always with the same person. Mignon McLaughlin

Marriage is an alliance entered into by a man who can't sleep with the window shut, and a woman who can't sleep with the window open. George Bernard Shaw

• A wedding anniversary is the celebration of love, trust, partnership, tolerance and tenacity. The order varies for any given year. Paul Sweeney
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Now don't fall down laughing but this was 'our' song at our wedding. I've been searching forever for a version of the original with Steve Lawrence & Eydie Gorme but this was all I could come up with. The Osmonds- *sigh* Beggars can't be choosers.
  It was never exactly a hawt song, but Allan's ring is inscribed, 'we made it' and mine says, 'together'....you can all gag now. LOL
  
  
  
  
  

Happy Leap Year

It's my son Mark's birthday today. No, I didn't plan on having him on Leap Year's day. And oh yeah, he's eight years old today.

Happy Birthday, Mark

I love you my baby

A Caning

The cane tapped softly on the back of my thighs. First the right one and then the left, right, left, over and over until I was feeling a warm, delicious glow building in my ass.

"Hold your position."

"Yes, Sir."

The words were spoken softly yet the command in them was unmistakable and I could feel a warm gush between my legs as my hungry pussy happily responded to both the words and music of his voice.

Anything. I would do anything this man demanded of me so that he would continue his magic... magic, tapping, harder strokes, soaking wet cunt.

"This one is going to hurt. Will you take it for me?"

"Yes, Sir."



How I wish I could have taken that caning. Especially that last stroke and the fucking that was sure to follow - I was so turned on when I woke up.

Yes, sadly, it was all a dream. I had rolled onto my bad shoulder during the night, somehow dislodging the pillow that was supporting it and throwing off the heating pad that was wrapped around it as well. So I suppose the pain from that combined with the frustration of not getting fucked in so long I can't even remember how anymore=wet dreams.

I just found it interesting that I dreamed about being caned considering I've never been caned, never even seen a cane. And while we do own a flogger... Allan is pretty handy with it when he's in the mood, a cane is another one of the things that makes him turn green and look at me like I'm a freak. *sigh* He's probably right and I would hate it since I'm a wuss about pain, but I'd just like the chance to TRY it once or twice, ya know?

Valentine's Day-Sorta Sweet, Sorta Silly

Thanks Brian, for reminding me to post a recap of Valentine's Day. I guess I forgot because it was highly forgettable. Not anything dreadful just - meh. I try to keep things light hearted and fun so there's no pressure for you know...the *s* word. Forget the bd and m.



Anyway, I made the beautiful, juicy steaks along with baked potatoes and a green salad, served with fresh crusty bread and whatever red wine Allan had brought up from his collection most recently. I'm staying away even from my white wine while the barometer yoyo's up and down making my headaches flare up something fierce. The heart shaped chocolate layer cake with chocolate icing turned out perfect. Earlier in the day, at Allan's insistance we exchanged cards and he gave me my gift. MY GIFT?!! I didn't know we were doing gifts! I felt terrible since I didn't have anything for him but he assured me it was alright (well what else was he going to say?). Now true enough last year he got me the very cool and amazing Tassimo coffee maker, so perhaps I should have had a clue. But the Tassimo really is for both of us...hell it's for the whole family! My kids love the thing and make coffees galore when they come over, so perhaps I can be forgiven for not seeing what was coming. Ahem.



Allan bought me lingerie.



Yes, folks you read that correctly. My husband who as we all know doesn't get turned on by or see the point in any but practical lingerie, bought me not one but two lovely sexy things. I was so excited that I stripped right there in the kitchen and modeled them for him. the slinky nightgown was a bit too slinky since I couldn't move in it once I managed to pull it down over my hips, but the black two piece pant and top (Vera Wang no less) looked fahbulous, Dahrling. It's so stunning I could wear it out and not feel weird. Allan returned the nightgown the next day and wants to take me shopping for a replacement item one of these days. Of course it would help if my shoulder would get better and I could dress and undress myself like a normal person again but taking him in the fitting room with me could make things interesting. *g*

He thought I looked very sexy...I gave him both the kinky cards I had bought and we giggled over the one with the little bear with the handcuffs and whip. But as usual Allan didn't show the slightest interest in doing anything remotely sexual. I got the obligatory peck on the lips and that was about it for the night. And I was pretty blunt when I wrote, "I'm still waiting." on one of the cards.

...back to keeping things lighthearted. After watching a movie, we climbed into bed and I pulled out the goodies from the Dollar Store haul. We chose cards that we had to scratch and read the reward - eh. Magnetic Tic Tac Toe - pretty, but we'll have to be more creative when we play next time. :D But the absolute best was the gun that shoots love tokens - omg...it was hysterical. I stood at the end of our bed and after 'loading' the tokens which were round plastic discs into the container at the top of the gun, I shot them at Allan one at a time. He was hit with "Be Mine" "I Love You" "Cutie Pie"...you get the idea. We were having a good laugh and I guess I had shot about six tokens when I lined up my next shot, carefully aimed, squeezed the trigger...and the the whole front end of the gun fell off. Allan nearly fell out of bed laughing, and I actually spent the next five minutes trying to put the silly thing back together!

After writing all this out I have to reconsider my earlier position; this Valentine's Day wasn't so meh after all. It sure wasn't filled with sex but we had fun and that's got to count for something, right?

Valentine's Day-Can't Ignore It

Can you believe it's Valentine's Day already? I don't know why I'm so surprised; the Dollar Store had their shelves stocked a month ago and I was there the day they were putting everything out. Woo Hoo!! Jackpot! So let me see...what did I buy this year to add to the 'fur' lined handcuffs, the necklace that blinks on/off, floating heartshaped candles, card game, heart decorated nippleclamps clothespins, icecube tray and baking pans? I got a Tic Tac Toe game, Romance Cards, and a gun that shoots love tokens. *grins*

I'm going to get busy today and bake a heart shaped chocolate layer cake to serve after tonight's dinner of steak, salad and baked potatoes. I'm sure we'll have a good time and I hope Allan will get a laugh out of my huge expenditure if nothing else, and I just looked at the two cards that I bought him weeks apart, and both of them feature handcuffs. Think I'm trying to tell him something? Think he'll believe that I didn't choose them deliberately to hound him - because I didn't. Scout's honour. I was shocked when I looked at both of them last night and saw how similar they were. Nor did I remember that I had even signed one of them already. Omg. He'd better not tell me he fucked me last night!

My mind, I miss it.

If all else fails, here are a couple of quizzes to keep us all amused. Enjoy them and -

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!

You Are a Candy Heart

You're definitely a pro when it comes to romance - and you have great dating etiquette. Plus you probably smell and taste pretty darn good.

Are You a Candy Heart or a Candy Fart?

You are a Lavender Rose

You represent love at first sight and enchantment. Your vibe: intense and intriguing Falling in love with you is: deep and meaningful

What Color Rose Are You?

He's Making Me Crazy! or Who does He think He's Impressing?

When a man has had TWO recent heart procedures and has been told by his doctor repeatedly not to go near a shovel, why would that stupid, idiot man go out and shovel snow?

I'm just asking because he's now as white as a sheet not feeling so hot and if the shovelling doesn't kill him I might. Stupid - stubborn - pigheaded - ǿ"#¿©&§¢!

You know You've been Married too Long When...

We had dinner reservations last night and I spent a bit of time on my hair and makeup, not wanting to look like a complete wreck. Since my shoulder is in bad shape and dressing is particularly painful, I allowed myself plenty of extra time to take off the yoga pants and top I had been wearing all day and for physiotherapy, and dress in the nicer things I was going to wear to the restaurant. A quick spray of JeanPaul Gaultier and I was ready.

I walked downstairs to the front door where Allan was waiting and---we could only stare at each other. There we were, both in black pants, powder blue sweaters and black boots. The fucking Bobbsey Twins.



I hope we're not starting to look alike.

“For mine own part, it was Greek to me” Shakespeare

Before leaving on any of our more exotic (at least to us) trips I do hours of research on our destinations. I have assembled a better shelf of travel books over the years than many libraries and always check out the second hand book stores wherever we happen to be in case they have slightly out of date travel guides or maps.














Before we went to Scotland in 2001 for my 50th, Allan suggested I decide what areas I wanted to see and map out a general itinerary for us for our three weeks. I went to my favorite second hand book store the next day and sitting there on the shelf crying out to me were two(!) very current driving maps of Scotland in almost mint condition. I rescued them for the princely sum of $3.00 and took them both with me to Business Depot where I bought two large sheets of clear plastic that I could write on and wipe off. As you see from the pictures, I mapped and I mapped and I mapped. I used every guide book in the library system and I haunted the local book stores, huddling in the corners of the stacks making notes and writing down the names of other books to research. I spoke to friends who had been to Scotland for advice and emailed all sorts of people on the web. By the time I was done with my maps, Allan came in and added up the estimated time needed for each of the routes and stared laughing. We had three weeks to see Scotland. Doing it my way? Needed forty seven days. And that didn't allow any time to stop and smell the haggis.

Allan finally had to take over because I just couldn't bring myself to delete anything from my list of must-sees. I'm a huge history buff but I don't think I'm quite as bad as my husband says I am. Allan tells everyone that if I see a pile of rocks by the side of the road I go crazy and have to stop to investigate.


That is so not true. I ask you, does this look like a pile of rocks?

Castle Ardvreck

When we began taking longer cruises, I naturally faced an even greater dilemma. Since cruise ships usually only stop in each port for a few hours, how on earth was I going to see everything in such a short amount of time? Again, my wise husband told me, "You can't see everything. Pick two or three places you REALLY want to see and that's it. Maybe we'll get back one day and you'll get to see some of the other sites, but it is not possible to see all the sites in Florence in one day!" Although I am incredibly proud embarrassed to say that we *did* the Uffizi in an hour and a half ... "hurry, we have to get to Gallery 8 to see the Filippo Lippi...No, don't stop to look at that painting it's not on our list! We are on our way to The Leonardo Room to see Adoration of the Magi, so move it! And then we have to get to Room 18 - The Tribune and after that Room 10-14 - The Botticelli Room...you get the idea. Someone should have been filming us running around like idiots - I don't recommend anyone else try this. It is our Shamefully Bad Tourist Story; the sort of behaviour that gives 'tourist' a bad name. We don't do this any more. *g*

So we have learned a few things about how to research and see a port of call. One of the best places to find information on the net is a site called cruise critic that has an area for people to hook up with others going on the same cruise. We had a great group organized when we traveled to Southeast Asia and we had a lot of fun on that trip. So when this trip started to come together I got busy on the cc boards and sure enough there was a huge group of people looking for other travelers to join them for private tours in the various ports. It's always cheaper and usually a better tour if you are able to arrange a driver/guide or whatever, depending on the size of the group.

Since Allan has become ill I have had to learn to travel smarter and conserve his energy, so running him off his feet from dawn till dusk is pretty well out of the question now. I think I wrote before we left about some of the strategies I was going to use to try and keep his strength up and using private cars and guides was the main one.

I had arranged a car and driver in Athens who spoke English and who (very importantly) didn't smoke to show us the sites and a girl answered my request for someone to share the car and the day with us. As it happened, Tara had booked a car and driver in Rome and was looking for a couple to share with, so with just a few emails we were set for Athens and our first day in Rome. LOL! Tara and Greg turned out to be honeymooners the same ages as our children! AHAHAHA! It was all good though and the four of us got along very well.

So, without going into (more) incredibly boring detail, here are the highlights of our day in Athens.

The Port of Piraeus



Olympic Runner Made out of Car Windshields


The Parthenon


Temple of Olympian Zeus





Porch of the Maidens, Erechtheum


Theatre of Dionysos


Our visit to Athens



He might be wearing a skirt and have pom-poms on his shoes, but I still wouldn't mess around with him. Well, I would, but not while he's holding a rifle! We were warned in no uncertain terms not to touch the Evzones!

It's Coming, It's Coming-just not anytime soon

Oddly Enough News

Try explaining this to your kids "Pet" girl kicked off bus for wearing leash . I'm sorry, do whatever you like, after all, they might have been working on a scene for an acting class or on their way to a costume party for all anybody knew, but as soon as she said, "I'm a pet..." she changed the whole tone of the conversation. By all means be a pet...at home. Anyone else?

``````````````````````````````````````````````````````````


I swear to the blogger gods that I truly am working on a new posting. But you know how sometimes the words just flow out of your brain and onto the computer screen as fast as your fingers can fly? Yeah, well that hasn't been happening lately. The ideas are there but I think my brain is constipated. Anyone know of a good laxative to get things moving?

Have you noticed that I've linked to Diana Gabaldon's new blog?! She blogs nearly every day and is just as fabulous as I hoped she'd be. But then everyone knows what a huge fan I am. Right now she's blogging about writing (oddly enough) and answering questions so if you're interested, go there. Oh, go anyway, she's funny as hell.

I don't usually promote the sites I link to, but two of them are nominated for this year's Bloggies. I think it's pretty great that Diamond Geezer and Attack of the Redneck Mommy are both up for awards and you might want to go take a peek.

That's it for my exciting news. Pathetic isn't it? I'm going back to my real post now to try and force it out. I hope I don't rupture my cerebellum.

Steady On At Last?

UPDATE

The ablation is over and Allan is fine. He is now totally pacemaker dependant which is a bit scary but since his heart hasn't been doing such a great job on it's own these past few years, I'm just as content to rely on modern medicine as the All Natural version.

The most difficult part of the day for Allan was having to lie on his back and not move his leg for four hours after the ablation. That is to make sure the wound can heal properly. Very difficult for a person with a bad back and Restless Leg Syndrome! Mark, Laura and I did a lot of talking and to keep him entertained and as distracted as possible during those hours., but wow...it wasn't easy for him.

I spring him from the hospital tomorrow around noon and from what I've been told he should be feeling pretty good by then and ready to resume most of his regular activities.

Thank you all for the good wishes, crossed fingers and hugs. I can't even tell you how much they mean to me. {{ }}

Oh, and I made a major goof about the name of the medication that Allan was taking in such huge amounts. It's Cardizem - not Altace. He takes so many that I got confused. Sorry about that if you were actually paying attention. LOL

````````````````````````````````````````````````````````

Allan goes into the hospital today for an ablation which we hope will make him feel better. He had a pacemaker implanted in October as the prelude to the ablation and it will take over regulating his heart rate after the procedure is done.

He has been exhausted and getting more so with every passing day, because of the heart conditions he has, but also due to the massive amounts of medications he's on. We were at the hospital last week for his pre-op appointment and the nurse was going over his medications said she had never seen anyone be prescribed such huge amounts of Altace and still be on their feet! But that's why he's having the ablation. The doctor's have nothing else to offer him in the way of medication and his quality of life is getting poorer and poorer. And before you ask...I don't know how he managed to do as much as he did on our trip. Although I have mentioned a time or ten that 'Stubborn' is his middle name, and once he decides he's going to do a thing, that's it. Considering that the itinerary was enough to challenge the healthiest person, Allan was nothing short of amazing, truly, but he nodded off all the time - he can't help it and I just wish it helped him feel more rested, but since his heart isn't working properly it doesn't. He also didn't attempt things he knew were beyond his capabilities right now. Some, in fact, many of the places we went into , had long flights of stairs and if I couldn't find an elevator, he just didn't go up the steps but waited for me instead. We adjusted to our circumstances.

As usual I have drifted off topic. *g* I wasn't going to mention the trip at all today. I didn't do a very good job did I?

Although I have enormous faith in his surgeon, please keep a good thought or prayer for Allan today. I love you all.

Croatia

The name Dubrovnik doesn't have the same romantic sound to it that Venice or Rome or Florence has. At least for me. And I know that Allan wasn't expecting much from this port either...our bad I know, but somehow the name Croatia just kind of sits there on your tongue you know? There's nothing pretty about the sound of C r o a t i a .

I'm here to tell you that ignorance isn't bliss. Ignorance is stupid. Dubrovnik is a beautiful little gem of a city and we are so happy to have had the chance to stop there if only for a few hours.

The famous wall around the city. We walked about half of the way around before climbing down to explore the city.

...because Croatian cats are so much more exotic than Canadian ones.








Stradun, Dubrovnik's main street. It's paved with marble and very slippery, yet the local women traipse around in spike heels with no trouble at all. bitches. Did I say that out loud? haa!



Did you know that the Cravat or Necktie was given to us by the Croatians? I am just a fount of uselessfull information. No thanks is necessary.







...and just to prove how classy we are.

But I forgot to Tell & Show you This...

All the way to the airport I kept worrying aloud that I just knew I had forgotten something. Allan and Mark basically ignored me as I normally do this as part of my preflight run through and most times if I have left something behind it's minor, stockings or a hairbrush...easily replaceable. We were almost at the terminal when I had a clear mental image of what I had left behind this time.






Yes, the video camera that my husband had given me for my birthday. The video camera I had asked hinted strongly for about a MILLION times so that I could have it for those B I G W I D E shots on our trips! Uh-huh, it was sitting on the bench by the door waiting for me to scoop up as I walked out the door. And I had waltzed right past it and hadn't thought of it until it was too freaking late to turn around and get it. I was so angry with myself that Allan didn't need to be. He just said something about making do with the other camera and that was that. But this is the man who thinks that buying postcards from each place you visit counts as photography. "But they're not personal!" "So? We'll remember the things we saw there. And can't you do 'something' on the computer and add us in?" AAAHHHGGGGG!!!!! He's serious! This is why I'm not in most of our pictures.

...where was I? - - Oh right. Since our little, pocket digital camera had died we'd bought a beautiful new camera...it was my Channukah present, and fortunately it takes really good videos as well as excellent photos and I hadn't left it at home. *G* So this is my very long way of introducing my first video from the trip. The sound is poor because there was so much noise on the bridge...I really wasn't mumbling. LOL






p.s., apropos of absolutely nothing other than it's always cause for celebration, Dangerspouse finally posted again back in December. YAAY! His wife had some setbacks and Thomas has written about it in his own hilarious style.