Monthly Archives: February 2006

Hockey… what have I missed?!


Paul Rupert’s ‘Sunday Skaters’

Last week some of the guys at work were discussing the rules changes implemented in the NHL. That was the first I’d heard of it. Here in California, hockey isn’t exactly the spectator sport of choice (although it *has* grown in popularity). Coming from Montreal, hockey is ingrained into the culture. As soon as there is enough snow to provide adequate coverage on the roads, the hockey nets would come out and the boys on our street would play hockey… not in ice skates, mind you, but they’d still get the job done, sliding around in their boots. In the summer, the puck would be replaced by a tennis ball, and the games would continue. Many a dream of being a great hockey star was born that way… who didn’t want to be the next Yvan Cournoyer or Guy Lafleur (who later opened up a hotdogs and frites place in Montreal after he retired)?

I could skate, but those figure skates they had for girls don’t have much ankle support, and mine were notably weak… so no heroics on skates for me. I learned to skate at the Jean Beliveau area in Longueuil and our school field trips would include at least one yearly trip to the rink, and a day on Mount Royal, where we’d spend part of the day skating on Beaver Lake.

As I got older, I would hang out at the rink with my (various and sundry) boyfriends, keeping score and monitoring penalty minutes well into the night. During the play-offs my friends and I would gather from house to house to watch. Pity there isn’t a “Hockey Night in Canada” equivalent here. You could bet I’d watch. To see a hockey game at the Forum was awesome too. My boyfriend’s boss had season rink side tickets, right by the goalie, so we’d see some great skirmishes for the puck.

After I got married and moved to California in ’93, I was still religously following the play-offs… especially since the final players were the Montreal Canadiens and the L.A. Kings. This is how I got what my husband likes to refer to as my “hockey injury”. The Habs must have scored and when I jumped up in celebration, my right arm shooting up into the air, I threw out my neck and needed to go see the chiropractor for an adjustment. Well… of course I could only image the rioting and pillaging that ensued afterwards in downtown Montreal. It never failed… after every cup win, Ste-Catherine Street would get thrashed. I worked downtown and would see the results. Astonishing.

Well, the Canadiens haven’t won since, I’m sorry to admit, but the Nordiques are now the Avalanche… and the NHL is a different place to be. So… what’s this about new rules? Maybe I need to tune in to ESPN more often. Maybe I need to invest in a pair of Langes and find a rink. 🙂 Maybe I need to go to bed.

Valentine’s Day… the un-holiday?

I was convinced that today would be a bust (like my birthday) and was bolstering myself against potential disappointment. Then, midway through the afternoon, I opened my purse and peered inside, looking for my doctor’s business card. I found a small heart-shaped box of Godiva chocolates and a card from my husband. In shock, I was. He’d snuck it in there. Amazing.

Valentine’s day has not ever been a favorite of mine. The expecations always far outreach the outcome. When I was single, it reeked because I had no one to share it with. If I had any allusions as to it being romantic after I got married, those were quickly dashed–my husband is neither romantic nor sentimental. I suppose we balance each other out. Some day I hope to be surprised in a big way, with something so totally unexpected (but fabulous) that I’ll be just short of swooning.

My angel


This is Gabriel with his two birdie friends… Sky and Cloud. They’re sweet little birdies. This morning they were protesting about the clanking I was doing as I unloaded the dishwasher. Then I sat down to watch some TV and they hopped over to the lower rung by the door and were chirping at me in such a way as to indicate that they wanted out, now! and then proceeded to promptly poop on me. If shit is lucky, as my mom used to proclaim (though I fail to see how this would be the case), then I ought to go out and buy some lotto tickets, for I will surely win the big one this week. First I’ll take something for this blazing headache, though.

I got a report from the Grands last night, that Gabriel and Grandma were making busy in the kitchen, baking some mix cake. He loves to cook with me, he says, and so his great hopes for this weekend were to cook with Grandma. Grandma cooks about as much as I do, so it takes some extra effort to get her into the kitchen, but she made it, and I’m sure Gabriel will come home with happy stories tonight.

I have errands to run today, and some work around the house. I have to marble some paper, too… and see if I can assemble more of those books. Make a list of the folks who want the book and those who don’t. Pick up a tool so I can produce nice, even (and “fancy”) cuts into the watercolor paper I want to use for my next project (stay tuned). I need to finish compiling the worksheet for the accountant for the 2004 taxes and put together the 2005 expense sheet as well. The floors need sweeping and mopping. The carpets need vaccuuming. The dishwasher needs to be reloaded. Laundry needs to be done. I haven’t dusted in so long that I could peel it off of surfaces and use it as felt. Then there’s the matter of the sinks and toilets and tub. I plan big and accomplish small, but I suppose it’s better than not accomplishing anything.

So I’ll be off to Trader Joe’s in a bit, after I’ve cleaned out the fridge and assessed what we need for the week. This is where I ought to be menu planning, but instead I go to the store with the notion that I need to pick up enough “stuff” to make five or six meals, whatever that means, and end up a) spending too much money, and b) throwing most of the stuff out two weeks later, because we went to the Indian place one night and got pizza the next, ate at Claim Jumper the one after and … well, you get the picture. So I’m doubly broke, because I spent too much money on groceries I never cooked and then went out to eat on top of that. If energy wasn’t a factor, I’m sure I’d be cooking up a storm and the place would be spotless. It’s not just energy… it’s the lack of motivation. Who woke up and made *me* maid?

I wonder how I used to be able to do all of this? And commute 130 miles a day… and put it a good day’s work… and nurse (or pump) several times each day… and… … dang… small wonder I burnt out. And I did. BIG flame out. That was something to behold. And I had to deal with it on my own, because hubby was very much like a deer in headlights… “What do I do with a crazy person?” was his first (and last) thought… not “Geez, how can I help my over-extended wife?” Kick me when I’d down… I can handle it… and I did.

Thank goodness I had my little angel… I pulled through because somehow in the murk I was able to find the will to be there for him… nothing more, nothing less.

Anne Green’s sepia-earthy greens-metallic bronze journal

I finally wrapped up my pieces in Anne’s journal, and this will complete my participation in one of the two art journal projects I’ve been in for what will soon be a year. I’ve not yet gotten back my own two books, and I still have work to do in one more journal. I used images of my mother-real vintage, so to speak.

Today has been much less productive than I’d hoped. I awoke early enough, but Steve’s mom and dad were to come over early, but didn’t arrive until past eleven. Steve left to go to San Diego around nine or so, to cover the moto race. The grands, Gabriel and I went to Sterling Art for a quick peek. They have a canvas sale going on… buy one get another for a penny… so I bought two. Now I just need to get started on painting.

I have been trying to finish up some outstanding projects, but instead of working diligently, I’ve been sucked into watching Underworld. Mmmm… must say, Scott Speedman is quite dishy. And now The Matrix is playing, and I simply can’t resist watching it one more time. Mmmm… Keanu is quite dishy too. 😉