the Blethering Spot

I think I was having more fun last year.

The time has come, friends. There’s no point in denying it any longer; ignoring it will not make it go away. The dreaded Fundraising Garage Sale has got to happen.

I hate garage sales even more than I hate taking pop bottles back. I’m much happier just boxing up my junk and toting it off to the Sally Ann; I’d rather give it all to them and let them deal with it. Just thinking about holding a Garage Sale gets my knickers in a knot. I avoid G.S.s like the plague — the whole Let’s Wake Up At 8:00 AM on a Saturday And Drive Around Town Looking Through Someone Else’s Stinky Castoffs just doesn’t do it for me. I hate the garage sale ambiance; the grouchy looking lady in jeans, sweatshirt and runners, holding a coffee cup while sitting in a lawn chair, gives me the heebie-jeebies. I just hate it. Plus those ladies always look like they have serious gastric problems.

I had a garage sale once; typically, I chose the one day in the year that the temperature hit 34 degrees and everyone else in town went to the lake. I worked myself into a semi-breakdown, agonizing over pricing. I’m not a garage saler, so I have no idea what kind of money people will pay for a bunch of garbage. I made about 60 bucks. Good thing I took the day off work for that.

But here I am, gathering up a big pile of stuff in my basement. And not only am I saving all my junk, I’m asking for yours.

Do you have any garage sale fodder you’d like to donate? If so, you know where to find me. On a Saturday in May (still to be determined), you will see me in jeans and a sweatshirt, grumpily nursing a cup of lukewarm coffee and wondering WHAT IN THE WORLD, WHAT IN THIS WHOLE WIDE WORLD WAS I THINKING????

On a happier note, I must point out that my fab friends Jenny and Christy are actually the masterminds of this fundraising event. No doubt they will sail in with jiffy markers and masking tape, shove me aside with their practised Garage-Sale Veteran’s shove, and work their magic. What joy! what fun we shall have! I long for the day. I lift my eyes to the greyish skies; where does my help come from? My help comes from Jenny and Christy, garage sale extraordinaires.

Bring your garage sale-able items to my house; or you can call and I will send my longsuffering husband to your house to pick it up. Thanks for your support.

Right, so all the scary reports of worldwide food shortages and rising food costs have me FREAKED OUT, people! I am determined to begin planning our menus and baking my own bread again — not just if I’m feeling homeish, but every week. Yes, every week, I said. Honestly, I mean it. I am armed with not only a Bosch mixer, but also an electric slicer, so I really have no excuse.

This should be interesting.

Have a little look-see at this week’s menu:

Monday: Sweet and Sour Pork Ribs on rice (in crock-pot due Mrs Gwen working)
Tuesday: Grilled Chicken Breasts with Mashed Potatoes BREAD MAKING DAY!!!!
Wednesday: Lasagne with Garlic Toast & Salad (with timer set on oven, due Mrs Gwen working)
Thursday: Spinach, Ricotta and Pesto pie with Focaccia bread or something similarly modish
Friday: Shepherd’s Pie
Saturday: darned if I know (due Mrs Gwen taking a day off)
Sunday: Roast Beef and Yorkshire Pudding

Holy comfort food, Batman! You can tell that the weather looks gray and chilly. I can’t WAIT to see some tulips and daffodils around town… I’m not liking this climate change thing, not one little bit.

I’d better skedaddle, as I’m actually at work right now, evilly posting on my blog when I could be doing sales reports or something equally engrossing. Off I go… have a great day, everyone!

1. TP Roll Etiquette? I put the TP roll with the flap facing out. It is a hotly debated topic in my home, with Mr Gwen insisting that the flap should hang against the wall. Now that we purchase double rolls, we argue about it half as much as we used to.
2. My favourite thing to do on my days off: cook, sit around on my bum and read novels, play long-winded classical music and [occasionally] do a bit of cleaning. I’m a very boring person, actually, but never realized it until writing this just now.
3. Regular day? Also quite boring. Up at the crack of dawn, read and drink tea, wake up chillins, get ready for school, come home and clean, take 30 minutes to read in the afternoon, off to work where I singlehandedly change the course of history at my fabulous, exciting and influential job.
4. If I got a tattoo (which I really, really would like to do if I knew I would die young — so as not to be a wrinkly, white haired and bifocal-wearing 95 year old lady with flames tattooed on her bicep) it would be something like Hebrew letters meaning “hot mama” or something similarly deep. Don’t know where; that’s what’s stopped me from doing it all these years. I’m partial to the lower back tatts, but what’s a girl to do if she’s got love handles and the flattest rear you’ve ever seen in your life? It’s sad, so sad, it’s a sad sad situation, and it’s getting more and more absurd. (Kudos to the first one who can name that song w/out googling it)
5. Favourite SIL? Well, honey child, that would be you. No contest.
6. The winter/summer conundrum? Summer. It always used to be winter…. but my job (the exciting, influential and fabulous job described above) has taken away all love for snow. (It’s sad, so sad, why can’t we talk it over?)
7. Selena! You get the highest points of all for the most interesting questions. Well done.
1. Do I believe in aliens? I don’t know. I don’t have the arrogance to say that humans are the only life forms in the universe. For all we know, the universe is chock full of thriving societies of humans or otherwise. I believe in intelligent design (ie/ Creation by G0d, rather than evolution by chance) so I think it’s entirely possible that other worlds have been created as well. If I was an Evolutionist, the answer would be no, but being a Creationist, I really can’t say. Short Answer: no clue.
2. Do I believe in life after death? Oh, baby, do I ever. It’s one of the foundations of my whole world view. You know I’m a Christian, so, yes, I wholeheartedly believe that the soul never dies. I believe there’s a heaven and a he11, which I define (to myself) as being eternally with God or eternally separated from God. I believe that in order to get to heaven, a girl such as myself has to face the reality that I’m not, after all, perfect, (I know you are all shaking your head in denial, but it’s sadly true), and that my imperfections (or, s1n in Christian-speak) will prevent me from going to heaven after death. Then, I think that the only way to fix this problem is to believe that Jesu$ Chr1st was the son of G0d, who was perfect, but died for me – so that I can live with Him for ever. This enables me to be seen by G0d as totally perfect and free of s1n, so that I’ll be able to go to heaven after death. I believe that unless people do believe in Jesu$ and accept his offer (by just believing), the result is, unfortunately, he11. I wish it wasn’t true, but I think it is. I don’t believe that we can get to heaven by being good people. (If that’s so, I’m definitely disqualified!) I don’t subscribe to the theory of eternity in heaven with feathery wings and harps — I don’t know what heaven will look like. I don’t have a single little tiny doubt about that being my final destination, though, which is enormously comforting.
3. I should add that I’m not afraid to die, but I am afraid of the dying part — I fear pain. Also I don’t like the thought of leaving family behind — not for my sake, because I think I’ll be having a blast — but for my family & friends.
4. I used all the symbols I could in words like G0d and Jesu$, but I suspect the G00gle ad$ense will figure it out and put all kinds of freaky ads up for weird creepster sites. Sorry, all.
8. The Recurring TP Question: Who knew this subject would be so fascinating to people? I said up there ^ ^ ^ that I hang it with the flap out. But then, this morning, I went to replace a roll and I did it WITH THE FLAP AGAINST THE WALL. I didn’t mean to. I hope this doesn’t change your opinion of me.
9. I admit to being just a little disappointed that no one asked me if I would have taken the blue pill or the red pill. I thought someone would ask, so I thought about it constantly. I had a great answer all thought out, and no one asked. Chuh.

H.R.H. Uberstrickenfrau has done it again, folks…. it’s time for the Open Mike.

Have you been wondering which way I put the toilet paper? Perhaps you lay awake at night and cudgel your brains, desperate to discover if Gwen has gone bungee jumping; possibly you would like to inquire if I know how they get the caramel inside the Caramilk bar.

Ask me a question and I’ll tell you no lies.*

Go on, leave a comment. Ask away.

* the Blethering Place reserves the right to lie in the case of extreme duress.

Just got back from Vancouver tonight. Please allow me to make some brief observations:

1. B.C. is the best place in THE WHOLE WIDE WORLD to live. I mean it.*
2. Air Canada Jazz is a SERIOUSLY GREAT EMPLOYER.
3. My daughters have grown. When did that happen? These new clothes won’t fit them long. Harrumph.
4. London Drugs? Oh, yeah. I want one up here.
5. I would be thinner, and healthier, if I lived in a city, what with all the walking and drinking water and all.
6. Coming home is the best part of any trip.

* Anybody want a peanut?

The New Merchandise has arrived! The magnets are, sadly, a mere shadow of the ones that have gone before. They are weak, emaciated, needy magnets, unable to weather the storms of holding up bills, receipts and lists. I have lowered the price accordingly, naturally.

The totes, however…. ah, the totes are another story. Strong, resilient, with a large capacity to love, these totes are things of beauty. I am impressed by the handles, incidentally — they aren’t just reinforced material, but actually a heavy cotton weave. Very nice. The totes are huge, enormous, gigantic. They’re beach bags, not grocery totes. But, you know, nice.

If you have put in an order, I will send you an email to let you know the total cost, and to set up pickup/delivery.

Oh! Isn’t it a happy day!

note: my dear Stace, the totes are all sold out, but I put one aside in case you wanted it. Email or comment and let me know — if you already have enough tote bags to tote the whole family, or if you’ve toted ’til you can’t tote no more, I will happily put this one back on the market.

I’m busy as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs, so I haven’t got time today to post about my lovely husband. I will remind you, however, that he is a creature of habit, and we are once again going to plunge our forks into the depths of a gorgeous, desperately delicious Black Forest Cake. You may view the recipe here, if you like. Happy birthday to you, my love! I love you!