Dear Febreze

"Febreze® believes everyone deserves to breathe happy, and we want to prove it every day, to real people, in real life. "

These are your words.

Lifted from your web page.

I'm a real life, real people. And I'm not happy.

My children watch way too much television. And if that isn't enough to make me unhappy, I am vicariously subjected to your disgusting commercials at frequencies well beyond tolerable.

I like thrift shops. But I don't like watching your suckers sit in a filthy excuse for a thrift store smelling rotten old sneakers, sitting on a bedbug infested couch and making cooing noises while they inhale your "happiness-in-a-spray-bottle". I find it disturbing.

And just for your info, my peeps in the "new to you" industry don't put out filthy sh*t like that.

Here's the other thing. I like to spend an obscene amount of time on pinterest. I also like to scroll through hundreds of pages of craftgawker, and pin, pin, pin to my hearts content.

But then you know what happens? While I'm merrily scrolling along, catching visions of red, turquoise, and yellow.... a nasty pop-up of a hysterically happy woman in a blindfold smelling a foul looking string mop takes over my line of vision. Do I want to pin this?! I THINK NOT!

Why the impassioned response to your ads? Because. I personally think that febreze stinks. More than soiled running shoes, kitty litter boxes, tattered couches, and blue cheese. I used to work in a facility that was maniacally committed to your product, and sprayed their couch in its sinus clogging matter fortnightly. Yuck. It was impossible to relax on that couch. I felt violated and assaulted at every subtle shift in my darrierre.

Febreze. I deserve to breathe happy.
In real life, as a real person.
So quit butting into my pinterest and generally spraying your nasty attitude in all sorts of places that I don't want to smell it in.

Or I'm going to make a real life really big stink.

life is just so full of blessings

Somebody fed the dog corn.

Which said dog ate, then puked onto the blanket that was (fortunately) strewn across the couch.

The blanket got balled up and deposited outside the bathroom/laundry room.

The daughter got sudden onset stomach flu, and rushing off to the bathroom, she came up to the locked door as

someone else was taking a shower.

Seeing the balled up couch blanket outside the bathroom door, she made do with what was immediately available.

Being not squeamish, and preventing the possibility of toddlers taking an interest in the much- dampened quilt....I took the whole mess outdoors to spray the worst of it away.

Having accomplished all that (and more) I decided to write out a cheque for the speeding ticket my husband incurred while driving his fancy new car to the big city for a haircut.

And its just past noon.

Oh Boy!
I can hardly wait to see what the afternoon will bring!

Well Worth the Read

Perception.

When warped, is the start of much of our troubles.

Once I started reading this painfully honest memior of life with anxiety and its evil stepsisters- anorexia and bulimia, I couldn't stop til I got to the end. And then I wanted more.

I must commend this actress, living in the very public eye, for revealing her dark, dark journey for all the world to read. I know she'll be appreciated by any woman who has viewed herself as ugly, inadequate, a fraud, too wide, etc, etc. But there will inevitably be those who misunderstand her words, her life, her journey.

And I'm sorry about that for her sake.

But I'm really grateful that she has the courage to take it on.

On Why I"ll Not Be The Next Super Model

(alternate title: "she worries she'll never really be well"
and/or: "she wants more for her daughters... and yours")

Starting out is easy.
three cups of coffee.
black.

no cigarettes since I couldn't see the sustainability of it.
not that I haven't considered.

Several hours later, I get the hunger.
and remember.
cut back on carbs
sugar
fat
carbs.

Should I eat an egg?
Not with those garden tomatoes flaunting their taut red skin there on my counter.
Right next to the shrine.
the bread box
and the butter.

Its ok to eat some carbs for breakfast.
tis the start of the day, with many miles to travel.

Another black caffiene gets me to the lunch hour.
fishy crackers for the kids
pasta
and sauce
toast.

Carbs.
mmmmmm.

Don't want a salad out of the wilted fridge zucchini, three week old carrots, and absolutely no lettuce or spinach leaves. Yuck.

Tomatoes with toast is good!
sooooo good.

Three o'clock and kid snack time.
I'm looking hungrily at my own limbs
and imagining life without
handsful of cheerios,
teddy bears
oatmeal cookies
puffed wheat cake

What could I eat and not
induce
the guilt??

But I'm famished and there's
chocolate zucchini muffins
flax bagels
salted peanuts

And who should dwell on carbohydrates at a time like this?!
We're hungry!
and we've miles to go.

By half past four, the wine is looking chill.
In an hour I'll be faced with the second shift.
Dinner making.
Laundry sorting.
Sandbox from under couch vacuuming.

And there's bacon.
and cheese perogies.

And a garden tomato
on the side.

I remember my objective thoughts on aging and the expected shift in metabolic function.
I remember something about sugars, starches, size eights.

and I'm utterly unwilling to boil some eggs with a side of boiled brocolli.

I want the delicious life.

It's a shame I've been made to believe
tis only good
in
lesser.

and I find
i want
so much.

Closin' Time

It was time to unpack her bags, and reset her early morning alarm.
She knew she'd be happy to see their little faces at her door again.
She knew they would make her laugh and she would marvel again at the wonder wrapped in pre-school packages.
She knew she'd feel relieved at the return of routine, she'd enjoy living in the back yard, and filling their days with the simple pleasures of walks, playground, and sprinkler.

Still. She mourned the passing of summer with its trips to the lake, books at the beach, and languishing midday patio meals with friends too long neglected.

Summer, you've been good to me.
You've given me the hot, bright days that make me happy. You've brought me old friends, time with family, camping trips under tall pines. Fresh beans from the garden. Zucchini. Strawberries. You've filled my pores with rich heat that will sustain me in these upcoming basement days of January.

But its hard to say good-bye.

A Part Of Our Proud Heritage

Mennonite

In Niverville

Sews in her basement.

Entirely Too Late......

.............it dawned on her.

There was simply no time whatsoever in which to fit in

her job.