self portrait thursday: ugh

am i still there?

 self portrait thursday: in which a bunch of unrelated people all take pictures of themselves and post them to this group on flickr

aka where I have a look inside my head to see what's kicking around in there today.

Today .... well I'm going to riff (a little, well probably going off at a tangent) off Amber's Crafting My Life Thursday posts which have been 'theme-ing' on support and relationships and dreaming your dreams, during September.

Well ..... I have my dreams, and they're as subject to knock-downs, lacks of confidence, doubt and plain old fear as the next SAHM. Just when you're getting to grips, convincing yourself that you can make it a reality, a big old knock down comes along. In my case, it's usually a lack of support that delivers the biggest K.O. to my psyche. I scuttle back into believing that nothing I do will ever amount to much and I'll be stuck in my miserable, unfulfilling existence of unappreciated domestic servitude.

With a widespread base of support, failures are easy to ignore and probably don't crap you out that much. My trouble is that I have such a very small support network and failures hit hard. In contrast, my sister, who is battling a much larger subset of demons, has a very enviable, widely spread support base, of which I am truly jealous (honest!). She has a varied group of friends, work colleagues and online acquaintances who she can draw on for strength. They rally round her, and I'm sure around each other when needed. She has a real gift for making friends and keeping them, whereas I am Norman No Mates because of my hermit-like tendencies to retire to my cave to lick my wounds.

Sadly I've always preferred to muddle through things on my own, which only works when you are in fact on your own. Although family can be a great support network, when you feel let down there's really no getting away from it :(  and lack of support translates into a lack of confidence in what you're doing ... and so on .... Hence, the need to cultivate a larger support network .... and stop wasting time mulling over it when it goes wrong.

re-inventing myself

But what to do, what to do? I feel like a mercenary going out to seek recruits for my support network. I'm not the greatest of pals (but I'm not completely boring either). I'd rather have occasional coffee dates than a deeply meaningful bonding weekend together. I like company but I also like time alone. Am I 'friend' material? Do I need to reinvent myself.

Coincidentally, I've solved another of my support conundrums with after-school care two afternoons a week.

If I can buy childcare support, can I rent out some friends too?

or fading away?

wordless wednesday: up above the clouds this morning

up above the clouds this morning, originally uploaded by ebbandflo_pomomama.

wonderful inversion means sunshine up here despit fog warnings below


school run in the morning sunshine


fuel for the day


today's projects to replace these which went to the giftshop yesterday

taking time (almost tempo rubato)

by lunchtime, originally uploaded by ebbandflo_pomomama.

Not quite a tempo rubato moment but almost.

This week I'm trying to follow the advice of an online bloggy friend who is "taking back her lunch hour". Well, whoops dammit! I forgot yesterday but certainly made up for it today.



This morning, after dropping off the Wee Guy at school, I made a cup of tea and settled down on the bench on the deck to read thru a couple of fashion magazines (purely in the interests of research for the jewelry business, honest - Fall/Winter trends and all that). It was just warm enough to read comfortably and not feel like hurrying in from the chill. A good start to the day (I made some more long daisy chains to replace the ones sold in the Blackberry Gift Shop last week ... woot!).

As I toiled in my dim studio (my workroom is on the gloomy side of the house) the clouds scuttered and the sun came out. By lunchtime, which I remembered about today, the deck was like a sauna. My tomato tart and salad tasted positively mediterranean. I read cookery magazines and stayed away from work.



It's damned difficult scheduling decent breaks in the day working from home. If I do get up from my bench, there's this piece of housewark and that bit of tidying up to do. Work surrounds me. Though I am very good at ignoring the domestic crises, I do find that with limited time I tend to spend every last minute 'working' until I have to pick up the Wee Guy after school. It's not very efficient and it's not very smart.

Working smarter not longer.
Bon appetit!

PS: the watch waited until school pick up time to go all rubato on me

tempo rubato

Tempo rubato (quite literally 'robbed time') is an expression in music which, roughly translated, means "anything goes". It's used to escape the confines of a strict rhythm, allowing the conductor or soloist to interpret a passage as they see fit. Soloists often use it to great effect during a cadenza, where they get to show off their virtuoso playing while the rest of the orchestra sits around twiddling their thumbs (or sneaks out for a sly fag - remember those prolonged drum solos from the seventies? no, of course you don't little one but there's a wicked list here).



A true tempo rubato moment should inject a feeling of improvised spontaneity into a piece, and should not be trotted out in a similar format time and time again. It's not obligatory to "rubato" but it sure helps if you can do it well.



Or if you can do it in ignorance .... which we did at the arts festival this weekend when my wrist watch decided to 'tempo rubato' all by its sweet self, thus making me believe we had been waaaaay shorter at the event than we had. Thus there was no hurry to get away back home to rescue daddy and we made floral art with Agata, completed our annual raku painting, made buttons with Sarah, did a screen printing with Candice, ate hot dogs, became a tiger, and splashed in soapy bubbles.



Today my watch is apparently keeping Normal Time .... but secretly I'm hoping for some rubato sometime soon :)

... and now for this week's Meet Me On Monday Q's

1.  How many TV’s do you have in your home?
- only two, unless you count computer monitors/screens and then we have six (or more)

2.  What is on your bedside table (nightstand)?
- pen, pencil, knitting, sundry 'toys', notebook, a couple of books, inhalers .... well, you did ask!

3.  How many pair of shoes do you own?
- i refuse to divulge (my husband reads my blog)

4.  Can you change a flat tire?
- oh yes! can't everyone?

5.  Do you prefer sweet treats or salty treats?
- chocolate doesn't count as a treat so i'll say salty :)

sunday's question

afternoon tea with The Daily Tiger (solarised!)

Wee Guy: How did people light their houses before electricity was invented?

Me: Well .... they used to set fire to a small sheep and try to get everything done before it went out.

Wee Guy: Oh

Wee Guy: What did people eat before there was electricity?

Me: Well .... once the sheep had gone out it was nicely roasted so the people in the house ate it.

Parenting? Pah! It's easy.

Happy trails

Saturday's fun family activity was a picnic at Buntzen Lake. I was curious to see how flooded the beach area is with the upstream BC Hydro work in progress. It was completely flooded much to the delight of the local sluggish population. Every trail was a veritable slug fest. Great fun for junior naturalist.

See and download the full gallery on posterous

friday forte: the halt

Forty five is quite a momentous age for me. For one thing, it's come to mean the middle of life - a time when I'm potentially looking forward to an equal number of years that I have left behind me. It's actually become quite a comforting time. Ten years ago, which is midlife for the traditional three score years and ten, was much more angst-ridden. It was a new millenium, work was a drag, and I was no longer a 'bright young thing'. Ten years on - I'm comfortable in my skin.

Forty five has meant though, an end to my fertility. Or should I justify that as in the final decision to halt my fertility. The Wee Guy was a relatively late in life baby. I loved being pregnant (despite the hyperemesis gravidarum) and never thought of the implications of my age versus his. The mathematics began when he was born and we'd got over the first hurdles. How old would I be when he graduated High School? how old would I be when he would be old enough to not need me? will we hit menopause/puberty at the same time? how will we survive? and so on. Scary stuff. Stuff the feminist "career first, baby later" thinkers never talked about.

And what about a sibling? Maybe ten years ago a sibling would have been a natural progression, but ten years ago I couldn't even think about having one child. I already knew my biological clock was a slow and silent ticker. The urge to have a child never sounded loud and clear; science spoke to me, telling me my eggs were frying and that if I didn't make a move I wouldn't have a choice to make. Ambivalent or what? but it happened, the Wee Guy happened. (And for that I am truly thankful we tried.) But a sibling? A sibling would require a Conscious Decision to be made and I copped out. If it was going to happen it would either have to be an accident ( a bloody amazing accident) or my biological clock would have to tick louder. Forty five was my cut off point, mainly for health reasons. Beyond this and the mathematics was unfairly stacked against the poor child. Forty five has arrived and there is no sibling. There will be no sibling.


I don't feel sad though I am touched by the Wee Guy's occasional musings on having a little brother or sister around. As I said before, I don't have a strong biological urge to procreate and I certainly don't regret not producing a tribe. I'm glad I did take that step and I now know I would have regretted not trying. I'm so glad I didn't fall into the 'having a baby is a waste of education and career' mindset we were propelled out of the seventies with. I'm glad I didn't leave it too late.

What I do feel now is a certain amount of guilt that my own fertility has been such an easy personal choice. I have been able to say 'yes, baby' and 'no, baby' in a way that is denied to many women who would say' whatever it takes, baby'. I feel like I have casually decided to reproduce, and then decided to not reproduce. I have switched my fertility on and off . I feel extremely lucky that someone as undecided, with a take it or leave it attitude, has been given a child when there are women the world over who are desperate to become mothers biologically and yet cannot.

I feel I should apologise for stopping now.

I feel that I should apologise and say, 'it's not fair that it couldn't happen to you because you so wanted to have a child whereas I wasn't really that bothered until it actually happened'.

I'm so sorry it hasn't happened to you.

self portrait thursday: green sex

eco-diva: thrifted clothing and boots, air drying the laundry, in front of an environmentally-friendlyly cleaned bathroom plus upcycled art on the walls and a reduced (though not recycled or re-used) butt! dammit, i'm good!

To me, saving the earth is nothing new. Along with CND, it's been with me since birth. Reducing, re-using and recycling have always been part of my life thanks in part to a very thrifty and ingenious mother. Her growing up during the war years ingrained a "make do and mend" mentality, where useful items were stashed away for the future. Both my parents were involved in growing produce in the garden; my father's responsibility was the awesome array of composting which contributed to the carbon and nitrogen cycles in the homestead. My sister and I kept guinea pigs, whose droppings were great additives to the composts. They and other family pets were also added back into the garden nutrient cycles at the appropriate times in their lives. Nothing was wasted. We were green and it was only the seventies.


looking up towards compost corner as it eventually became

Today's green message is nothing new but now I'm noticing how slanted and biased it has become. Somehow it has become women's work. Eco hints are directed toward the lady of the house. We're cajoled into greenwashing our washing, spurred into eco-cleaners, or directed to 'make our own'. Our consciences are pricked with advice on BPA-free this child's item and phthalate-free that. Are we packing our school lunches in approved packaging? ie. non-plastic, non-disposable, non-packaging packaging? Are our choices sustainable to the nth degree? Are we sorting our recycling? Are we buying only recyclable packaging? Are we not buying packaging at all? Is our make up eco-aware? Have we checked every single chemical in the house for green-ness and toxicity? If not, why not?


all things green, even jewelry (made from scraps and workshop demo pieces)

I'm noticing that virtually none of this green messaging is male-oriented. Most of these eco-manouvers require feminine input e.g. extra washing, increased household maintenance, thinking time at the supermarket. For example, Port Moody will be changing its garbage and kerb-side pick up in the new year. Only kitchen waste will be picked up weekly, with garbage and recycling carts being collected twice a month. Kitchen waste carts are now being rolled out to town homes as well as single family residencies in the city. I understand the message - anything recyclable should not be going into the garbage cart as it can either be recycled or composted. To do our bit we are being gently persuaded to re-think our trash output and purchasing choices. I agree.


the dreadful consequences of taking the 'no packaging' message to extremes during baking

But my main problem with this is that it loads even more work onto the woman of the household's plate. Grocery shopping is mostly women's work, and household organisation most definitely is. Who is it who will make the changes necessary to cope with the new compartmentalisation of household outgoings? Yes, in this case it will be me, in common with countless other women across the city. We will be arranging recycling strategies (new waste baskets, training the inhabitants on what to put and where, and then correcting the mistakes on a weekly basis), making buying choices and dealing with the bulk consequences (new containers, new pots, finding the lids) and finding where to put three huge disposal bins safely out of the way of bears, vermin, the husband's bike collection, the car and the kid toys.

Don't get me started on the kitchen waste! We would happily compost but our back yard is tiny, we don't grow anything, and I worry it might attract bears. So instead we will be stuck with a big and eventually smelly kitchen waste cart which we cannot line with anything impervious. I dread summer. Yes, I could wash it out but I'm only a foot or so taller than the item and I refuse to get inside to scrub. Anyway, are we also meant to be saving water and not putting detergent down the drains? I'm confused.


future denizens of the kitchen cart (courtesy of the school fruit and veggie program)

I know no one else in the house is thinking it through. Our garage is attached to the house and I can imagine the stench, ants and flies which might invade during the summer heat. My plan of attack (forewarned is forearmed) will be to freeze waste and use Kraft bin liners to minimise unpleasantness. OK, so add 'sourcing Kraft liners' to the to do list :(

Yes, we do need to (continue to) save our planet. Yes, we do need to rethink our consumerism and waste disposal. Yes, we do need to monitor what damage we're doing to the environment. But apart from a few notable exceptions, could the men be encouraged to do some of the work too?

Apart from cars, what green decisions do men make for their eco-aware families?

this self portrait thursday message has been brought to you by the letters r, R and r. thank you :)

terrific tuesday: fussy child salads

When all else fails, and life is an unending series of dark tunnels, headbanging against immovable walls, and laundry, there is nothing more uplifting than seeing your child eat a salad. The simple act of ingesting a portion of the required 'five-a-day' can bring an absurd sense of achievement to the most embattled mother, a vindication that yes, she is on the right track, and no it's not a waste of time.

Mango and Peppers Salad

• Peel and roughly dice a ripe mango. 
• Finely dice a couple of red.yellow or orange peppers (colour selection based on presentational effect).
• Finely dice a red onion (very finely if palates are super-fussy).
• Finely chop a tablespoon of mint leaves (optional but adds pzazz).
• Combine and add the juice of half a lime.
• Mix well and serve with no hint of healthiness.

Watermelon and Feta Salad

• Cube a watermelon (a couple of thick slices or about half of a mini).
• Crumble a quantity of feta cheese (as much as you think you can get away with).
• Shred a quantity of fresh basil leaves (ditto - as much as you think you can get away with).
• Combine in a bowl and drizzle with good olive oil.
• Serve without prejudice.

Bon appetit!

wordless wednesday: still some summer left

sunny spot, originally uploaded by ebbandflo_pomomama.

:)

From Evernote:

the south american connection Clipped from:

silliness 2.6 - a degu for the squeen
This month I'm being silly. Or, more correctly, I'm taking part in silliness. 
But enough of that, I'll explain more in a later post.
Through being silly, I've learned something about myself. I'm somewhat obsessed with South American mammals.
First were my portraits of the alpacas and llamas at the Pacific National Exhibition. I mean, they weren't just snaps, or casual "look mum, I saw this today" bagging. They were full-on character study portraits trying to capture the exact essence of haughty llama (risking being spat on) and winsome alpaca. I have talked tantalisingly about my llama farm idea and visitors to my other blog will know of my love for beautifully feltable alpaca fibre.
Other frequent flyers to the blog will know that I am 'mum' to two gorgeous guinea pigs (one of whom looks like George Clooney), received from freecycle two years ago.
Then this week as part of the online silliness course one of the projects included drawing a new pet for the course organiser. What to draw, what to draw?
Then I remembered reading someone's query about a degu and what it looked like. I knew they were vaguely gerbil-ly type creatures but beyond that nada (oh the benefit of a veterinary education). Google images and then Wikipedia came up trumps and my knowledge gap was no longer.
For example, did you know that degus are related to guinea pigs and also come from South America? Unlike guinea pigs (llamas and alpacas) they can use their front paws to hold food while eating. They are strict herbivores and fibre fiends (they indulge in coprophagy), so strict that a relatively small excess of free sugar turns them diabetic. 
They are the only known rodent species to sequentially stack objects in decreasing order of size .... which I guess picks them out for research into OCD as well as insulin metabolism and hand/eye coordination studies (unlike the llama, alpaca and guinea pig).
So for the next silliness assignment I drew a guinea pig.
Obsessed? Somewhat.
:)

PS: this blog post has been written using Evernote and posted via Posterous - a first and a very mobile first :)

PPS: photo credit http://www.parks.or.jp/sczoo/cards/mammal/degu.jpg thank you

meet me on monday

that's me on the right btw

A new way to start the week, courtesy of Java at Never Growing Old (another 40plus blogger) via Kristin Dudish, a fellow Silliness2 alumnus (thank you for that link).

Each Sunday Java posts a set of 'getting to know you' questions on her blog and then a link up post on Monday. I think I might join in :)

This week's questions;

1. What is your favorite all time movie?

It has to be "Heathers" - deeply subversive, a choice I will probably have to hide from the Wee Guy once he's 'of age' and probably one I won't find as entertaining once he's at high school anyway, but for now it reminds me a lot of growing up relatively unpopular and on the fringes. Ah, and a wonderfully young Christian Slater (oh my youth).

2. How often do you go over the speed limit?

Never if I can help it (it's an immigrant thing). Yes, I'm the slow lady motoring up Mountain Boulevard at rush hour, sticking to the speed limit.

3. What really gives you the creeps?

Flecks of spittle at the corners of the mouth urgh.

4. What is your favorite snack?

toast, butter and honey (strangely enough, not chocolate)

5. Would you rather be a dog named Killer or a cat named Fluffy?

neither, i've never imagined myself as a non-human and don't intend starting now

PS: for silliness from me and the wee guy check here!

team Foord

team Foord, originally uploaded by ebbandflo_pomomama.

Today we took part in the annual Port Moody Terry Fox run. It was a wet and rainy start to the day, low cloud covered the inlet and it would have been much easier to roll back over to sleep in bed than get up.
Luckily (?) mr ebb read the time on the clock wrong and we got up early (waaaaay early) to carb load for our 'race'.

So we were on time at City Hall to register, hand over our pledges, and soak up the festive atmosphere. Local musician, Tony Prophet was playing encouraging wake up and dance music to get us on our toes (and later played along during the pre race stretch and warm up - beats the usual 'thunk thunk thunk' of cardio classes), and Runners Den in Newport Village had teamed up with adidas to sponsor a football goal shoot for the kids. Good times!



As you know, this is a race where nobody and everybody wins (except, hopefully, cancer). Inspired by an extremely brave young Canadian and continued by his even braver family, this event is now in its thirty years, surpassing the dollar for every Canadian which Terry initially set out to achieve.


everybody runs, on however many feet they possess

This year, we ran in memory of a grandmother and a great grandmother. I ran, I guess, as a survivor (my tale is so mild in comparison but i still live with annual check ups) and we ran as a family for almost the total 3k course.

Teamwork.

and PS: the Terry Fox National School Run happens at the end of September - why not sponsor the Wee Guy's school?? Every little bit helps :)

friday forte: flop down

instruction manual for middle aged women

Mid life - where things start to flop down.

Mid Life Flop Downs and How To Avoid Them 

1. Never More Than A Mouthful
   Don't struggle by trying to cram it all into one mouthful.  If you have an all-encompassing to-do list the sheer size of it can stop you dead in your tracks thus sparking Flop Down. Wisely prioritise bite-sized chunks to accomplish - for example, the last surface mailing dates for Christmas will be coming up soon (egads) so wrapping, writing cards, parceling and shipping will become priority, whereas Easter eggs, bikini waxing, and mending the puncture in the inflatable (NB: poss NSFW) will not. Just because you're in the second half of your life, there's no need to cram everything in there. Chill.
   
   
2. Calories
   This kind of Flop Down routinely occurs mid afternoon (right about 'coming home from school time', funny that!) and is usually due to skipping lunch. While I am also trying to avoid the Midriff Flop Down common to mums aka muffin top (and the Buttocks Flop Down come to mention it), I feel it's only right to avoid the lack of energy kind too. Somehow I have to balance the calories to prevent one without leading to the other. Soup, fruit, veggies and almonds are featuring heavily in my plan of attack here.
   
   
3. Taming the Beast
   An act of hair rebellion, suddenly it loses colour, texture and the ability to be anything but bad. Thanks to Jennyfer and some superb styling products I am avoiding this one ... so far! However, my genetic make up means I'm more likely to Frizz Out then Flop Down. I have two words - Morroccan Oil
   
   
4. Adequate Support
   Saggy tits, admittedly a not particularly attractive version of Flop Down (but there are worse - see below, quite literally) but one that's worth juggling with. Regular trips to La Senza will help. Related to saggy butt and saggy knees, but more easily remedied. BTW, boys have problems with sagginess too, and age might not be a factor apparently.
   
   
5. Surgery
   Yet another kind of Flop Down common to middle aged women - suddenly your jowls race to overtake your sagging tits to your disappearing waistline. There's not much I can do but sell enough jewelry to afford cosmetic surgery later on in life, exercise, and sleep on only one pillow.
   
   
6. Dietary Tweaking
   Haemorrhoids - the ultimate in Flop Down, and a little gift from the pregnancy gods (thank you). Regular fibre, regular (and hopefully private) bathroom breaks and ..... it could be worse .... real or imaginary.
   
   
7. Keeping It Going In The Bedroom
   Bedroom Flop Down can be incredibly frustrating and disappointing (believe me, I know all about this one) ..... but easily solved by a mattress upgrade (don't you just hate falling into an uncomfortable bed at night, then waking up in the wee small hours cos your aging bones are aching on a lumpy mattress?) A good night's sleep will leave you refreshed and ready to fight middle age Flop Downs for another day.
   
   
8. A Spiritual Boost
   Spiritual Flop Down aka The Blah's can be due to numbers 2 or 7, or hormonal rebellion. Upping the spirits might help, in the form of wine, Amaretto, Kahlua or a nice Baileys on ice. Likewise exercise, frequent sex, chocolate and strawberries, funny films, hikes, shoes and gossip all help. If all else fails, please send George Clooney.
   
   
9. Getting Down (on your knees) and Carpet Burn
   I have heard that yoga will keep one young, energised and flexible (and happy). I remain to be convinced - there is no way my dog is heading downwards. I will probably fall over which is not a good way of avoiding Flop Down IMO.
   
   
10. A One-on-One Session With The Mister
    A regular session with your partner will keep things hot and heavy sweet and rosy - topics of conversation could include gravity, hair removal, finances, The Lifestyle, or pets. Communication is key to navigating mid life waters, and two minds are better than one when the memory starts to slide.

Never let a Flop Down stand in the way of a good mid-life crisis.

forte!

self portrait thursday; the shut-eye edition

brass bud pendant, originally uploaded by ebbandflo_pomomama.

brass bud pendant

it's thursday, thursday evening and i'm working up in the eaves at my desk. the lamp is on and i'm in the middle of a small pool of light. i'm tired. my SPT photo was taken on tuesday so technically doesn't count for today, and i'm too tired to load up another :(

today i sorted thru inventory, made it out to craft with a group of mums, scheduled seven blog posts over lunch at a local cafe, then returned home for the final leg of the inventory redistribution before resuming domestic duties.

i'm tired.
i'm tired and i haven't blogged 'for myself' yet.
i have blogged but it was for a volunteer commitment (which i thoroughly enjoy, and seems to have been successful in driving up sales).
i'd really like to blog for myself tonight but i'm tired.

i'm too tired to be inspired, which is why i'm now filling the need to blog by blogging about being too tired to blog ...... so where do i go from here?

well, despite being tired, i do have plans. i'm meticulously plotting a time-in-motion study (don't laugh, mr ebb) of what i do, when i do it, and when i do it best, in an effort to schedule more efficiency into my working life. instead of drifting thru time and space i'm trying to work more intelligently.
- hence the scheduling a month's worth of blog post for the artists.
(makes mental note to do something similar with her own website).
- hence the planning big projects during the luxury of after school care days
- hence the taking notice of what works, what doesn't, where energy is best spent and what's basically just pissing in the wind a waste of time.
... and so on (which i'm too tired to detail right now)

work smarter, not longer and have some time with mr ebb in the evenings ;) unless he's still battling laptop woes.

what i'd like to end up with, is a working day that doesn't leave me doing stuff i should be enjoying when i'm knackered very tired indeed. i'd like a working day which doesn't leave me working into the late evening ..... and i think it's possible. i just need to plan and schedule and optimise every working moment.

cloud cuckoo land? maybe. but raccoon-mum land ... hmm, no thanks. i needs my sleep.

.... and the capitals? well, right now i'm too tired for shift, you know ......

wordless wednesday: knee deep ...

 
all that i have made
 
.... knee deep in inventory, taking photographs, restocking online and B&Ms .... making creative plans!

chunky copper wire cuff with carnelian, tigereye, glass, vintage beads, amber, citrine and agate

"fuzzy annelli" necklace (copper chain and roving)

sterling and fused copper earrings with glass dangles

 "warm gold" wire cuff with citrine, freshwater pearls and furnace glass

"winter hips" (low calorie) opera length necklace with orange aventurine and blackstone

Saturday Delight

Spent a lovely afternoon demonstrating wire crochet at the Place des Arts Family Open Day (don't forget, there's a Family Day coming up there at the end of September too). Thanks to everybody who stopped by for a chat.

See and download the full gallery on posterous

Friday forte: dinner date

Well, my dinner date was in fine form this evening and successfully hauled me out of my migraine. I think the high protein sushi meal at Sango also helped. (For locals, I would wholeheartedly recommend it for family dining; fast service, tasty platters and bite-size morsels.)
It wasn't quite the date night I had planned due to the headache but we still had fun. I was too sick to drive far but he was pleased with ice cream at Rubens for dessert. Later he brought me his toys for my bath,and then settled down for a Spiderman cartoon session snuggled up next to me in bed. Good times! and Mr ebb flies back this evening too :)
Sometimes it's good to go slow.

PS: this was blogged by phone (yes, I'm going on and on about it. ........ but it's exciting squweee!

self portrait thursday: multi tasking the day away

SPT 9th September: a little light needle felting, originally uploaded by ebbandflo_pomomama.

So, while I was needle felting this little flower onto a wire crochet collar I was also letting the paint on my toes dry, and operating the camera for my entry to the Self Portrait Thursday group over on flickr.



And now, while I'm sitting in Starbucks drinking my happy birthday beverage (Suter Brook, not Newport Village where the server yells "Happy Birthday" with so much gusto that you wish you were invisible) I'm blogging from my flickr account and checking out the new micro SD card which arrived for my smartphone this morning.

With the new phone I'll be able to multi task whenever, wherever .... or wherever there is a wireless connection since I haven't got a data plan attached. I do like the idea of being able to fill in spare moments meaningfully but I'm not that keen on being in constant contact. I do like twitter and I may find it useful to stay in touch as I roam, but I rather like my life 'untethered'. I find it handy to make cellphone calls but I'm also deaf enough to 'ignore' anyone calling me.

Multi tasking, yes; constant contact, no.
How do you live your life, bathed in this wireless glow?

i'm posting pics of the finished felting on the other blog

wordless wednesday: the (real) first day of school

this morning, originally uploaded by ebbandflo_pomomama.

In other words, it's a whole day and not just 25 minutes of pointless hanging around (sorry SD43 but your 'start of the school year' procedures suck).

business as usual

SPT Mar 20th - business as usual, originally uploaded by ebbandflo_pomomama.

In the interests of full disclosure, I am not a prude, but in the interest of bringing closure to a certain amount of current full disclosure I feel I must stamp out forced dislosure forthwith.

There are few things that phase me about nudity. I'm not a nudist but I do feel comfortable in my own skin. I feel no need to huddle under a towel or use the cubicle in a women's changing area. Everybody in there, as far as I can see (barring a few babies), has approximately the same accessories that I have, plus or minus a few scars with points of reference higher or lower depending on gravity's toll. I've been to Wreck Beach, I've taken European saunas with strangers, I've had al fresco sex in a meadow (and behind my parents' garden shed), I've breastfed in public .... but now I'm at a a bit of a crossroads.

No, don't worry Tri Cities residents. I'm not about to start running daily errands in the buff or volunteer as a life model at the art centre (no, I'd go waaaaaaay out of the area to hold the pose).

This is more of a domestic matter.
My son is now seven years old. We've always run a not particularly modest household, and it's only recently I've established visiting the bathroom as a solo hobby (with the door closed, locked even, without the tattoo of beating fists on the other side).
One day I dream, the Wee Guy and mr ebb will shut the door too!
Otherwise it's a no holds barrs, clothing optional, nudity around every corner first thing in the morning household. We're waiting for the Wee Guy to make the first move towards imposing modesty which, according to the text books, should be right about now. He should be requesting privacy, shutting the door and making "ewwwww yuck splurg" noises when he sees me au naturel.

So far - nothing, except I've discovered there are two areas of my life I'd like a little more modesty about.

IMO no boy should ever see his mother plucking chin hairs, and he should certainly, and under no circumstances what so ever, see her hoisting on a G-string (even if it is for purely vain no-visible-knicker-line reasons). I'm convinced the sight of my arse thus attired would scar him for years to come, and I don't think he'll inherit enough wealth to pay for all the therapy. Since I intend to wear this season's skinny jeans with pride (and no VPL), I'm foreseeing a lot of hurried dressing in the closet in my future (or sitting down quickly).

What's your line in the sand on domestic modesty? Please comment so I can laugh my head off and forget my own hang ups.