I love my tools. What happened here?

I bet there was an easier way to do this. I was trying to drill a hole in some metal today, and so I had even gone and bought a special drill bit for the job. Waste of $15 – damn thing lasted about 5 seconds and then broke. Being pressed for time (my new state of being) I resorted to the crummy cheap bits that came in one of those plastic Home Depot cases – you know the one that costs $19.99 and you have 25 bits, plus the bonus screw driver ends that fit your drill.

Back to the beginning of the story. My folks are coming to visit for a couple of weeks, so I needed some guest room furniture. I know, I know. My daughter came for Christmas and had to sleep on an air mattress on the floor, but I couldn’t do that to my parents. So, I pulled out the Sears catalogue and did my thing. For some odd ball reason, the foundation does not quite fit on the bed frame. Have you ever bought a bed, and no matter which freaky little hole you put the bolts through in the frame, it is either too small for the mattress, or too big? Yeah, like we need someone calling out in the middle of the night because they have fallen through the bed frame.

If you are me (which you aren’t, and I don’t blame you one bit), you grab the drill and in the best imitation of my Dad, you fix the damn thing yourself. Drilling those metal bed frames suck. Now I know the last time I saw my brother do it, he seemed to be sweating along the brow line and muttering four letter words. I wonder who decides which holes go in to those bed frames, and why they never measured them on standard sized beds? And yeah, just in case you read this far and are wondering, it is supposedly the right frame for that bed. And who labels the drill bits to say that they will go though metal and they don’t?

Ah well, Mum and Dad are coming. That sounds like a good reason to do some celebrating, have some fun and head out in search of some good local food, music and sight seeing!

Money Matters

Ah, it’s that time of year again. The days are getting a little longer, a little brighter. The bills start piling up despite the fact it will be another couple of months before the tax return arrives. That’s if there is a tax return of course. These things are not always guaranteed.

Next year, we say, we’ll do it differently. I won’t spend so much. Maybe I’ll get a bonus or win the lottery. The great Canadian retirement plan seems to be “winning the lottery” as in, if I win enough in the lottery, I’ll be able to retire. Then there is the great Canadian lifestyle plan, which is “living within the extent of my credit limit”. Does that seem backward to you? It sure does to me, but I’ve been guilty of it.

I have tried to raise my kids to understand that you have to buy things that you can afford. Save first, shop later and with luck it’ll be on sale. Or maybe you’ll decide that you didn’t want it in the first place. For the most part they handled this quite well. Saved their part-time earnings and birthday money for clothes (my oldest daughter waits ages for stuff to go on sale and it usually pays off) and big items like game systems. Until they entered the age of credit they did not know what credit was. And then my oldest daughter graduated and somehow managed to get her first credit card.

I think credit ought to be reserved until kids are at least 30. Read on for why.

Since Christmas I have had several friends and clients approach me about money issues. This may surprise you since I am someone who likes STUFF and I have a well stocked kitchen, but there was a time when this was not so. I became enamoured with credit. I had student loans, and automatically a credit rating. I got credit cards. I leased a car. It was amazing this life – here I was making crappy money and yet surrounded by stuff. It didn’t last of course because I was broke. One very fine line away from a soup kitchen, and I am not kidding. How do you manage all that financing with two kids, single parenthood and a student loan? Answer=you don’t. You are bankrupt.

So my friends and colleagues who know this part of my sordid past will sometimes ask my advice. I think, at times, they want to hear how going bankrupt saved me from being destitute, but this was not the case at all. I was destitute, and if had not been for my family rallying around me (not paying my debts, but being there for me in every other way) I probably would be pushing up daisies right now. No joke.

The thing with credit is that is NOT an answer to anything, except wilful accumulation. Sure you need credit to buy a house, rent a car, blah blah blah. But really, the great mindset believes that you need credit for everything. A $6.95 cup of coffee, a tank of gas, a handful of lottery tickets and a pack of cigarettes. We subscribe to all kinds of things using credit; electronic and paper version of newspapers, magazines, music downloads, ink for computer printers. And what do you have at the end of it? Nothing. Not a gal danged thing.

In my household, the last quarter of every year seemed outrageously expensive. September was back to school for my girls and often, for me. New books, pens, crayons, clothes, back packs…October is my youngest’s birthday. Thanksgiving. November is the oldest’s birthday. December is my birthday and lo and behold, Christmas. It was like spending money from September 1^st until year end. Not just gifts either. Big festive meals with roast beast and all the trimmings, and wine and beer to boot. My Dad’s birthday being in mid January I think he really got the short end of the stick!

It wasn’t that I wasn’t working. In fact much of that time I was working full time, going to school full time or both. When the kids were little I’d put them to bed and study. As they got bigger we scheduled computer time so we could all get everything done.

I think the problem is that differentiation between broke and poor. I like Larry Winget’s description; poor you cannot help. Broke is deciding to spend more than you have. I like to think of it as champagne taste on the beer budget. There are two ways to get over being broke. Work more (yeah, get a second job. A third can help too). Spend less. Period. I know we hate it, but the truth is that unless the net result is more input and/or less output, you cannot get ahead. Pay day loans, second mortgages and credit cards charge just enough money for you to never actually get out of debt. So don’t get in it. And if you’re in it, then get out. More inputs, less outputs. Period. ‘nuff said. No need to sugar coat it. Broke is broke. More inputs, less outputs.

Moving along, singing a song, side by side

It’s been a busy day ‘round here today. Lynda and I are getting things ready for our parents’ visit this week. Thought we would do things up right and set up a guest room, since the last visitors we had were forced to sleep on the floor on an air mattress, and you know, I couldn’t really do that to my folks.

Now, getting things organized around here takes some doing since I have piles of papers, books and crap all over the place. Putting beds up in the home office now guest bedroom meant moving the book cases. Which meant moving front room furniture into the living room. Moving the cable hook up for the TV and drilling holes in the floor. Glad we haven’t put the new hardwood in this room yet. So all of this meant moving the piano The same piano that professional movers have said they will never move again. It’s 100 years old, a big ‘ol regal looking upright with a lot of, um, character marks and weighs about 800 pounds. No kidding.

I am sure that Lynda and I could have made a career out of piano moving over the years. Last time we had to move it, our uncle brought a piano dolly over, which made it easy to scoot all over the place. This time we were on our own, and all things considered, it’s now on the opposite wall and nicely set up.

Getting the book cases down the stairs was another feat altogether, and actually trickier than the piano or the entertainment unit. Fourteen freaking hardwood stairs (so do not bump the stairs, you see?) and the damn things have no where to hang on to. So, first bookcase, Lynda is first going backwards, and I am coming down after. And the wood stove has been blasting for a bit so now the stairwell is hot. My hands are sweating, there is no where to grasp on to the damned bookcase and I nearly – I said nearly, she reacted quickly and so we were okay! – dropped the damned thing right on her! This reminds me of years ago moving her stuff from a townhouse when I dropped a dresser on her, also another story.

Anyway, we moved all my office stuff to re-fill the book cases now on the main floor. Sorted, stacked, vacuumed and cleaned. My career as a mover is completely

I can’t wait until Mum and Dad get here – so we can sit and drink copious amounts of tea, have a break, and remind ourselves why we don’t work as movers – of the piano or just furniture in general. And the next time we move furniture, I am going to hire someone. Yeah, that’d be better. For my sister of course, not just for me.

A writer's journey

You know, I struggle with my own career sometimes. I have decided that one of the things I want to add to my career portfolio is to be known as a writer. That means I have to write more than what gets on this blog of course, because I also want to get paid for it. That’s simple reality.

Some of you know that I self-published a novel last year (you can read about it on www.maggiebendar.com because I published it under my pen name). I have been asked many times why I published it myself and I generally try to politely discuss the fact that the only Canadian publishers that review unsolicited manuscripts from writers without an agent rejected my book. It’s really a love story, but the main characters belong to the Canadian military, so of course it has an impact on the book. I suppose I could have written the book differently, you know where one character is a writer, the other an architect, someone else a frustrated admin assistant…but hasn’t that been done to death? What is wrong with adding a little spice to the world of novel writing?

I am sure curious about how a publisher decides book doesn’t appeal when it falls outside of the norm and perhaps gives people something else to think about while they escape into a novel. I cannot help but think that my military friends who read and enjoyed it would have bought a copy from a publisher. Am I wrong?

Don't cut wood in your pyjamas

I moved into a new house this past summer. Well a new province truth be told, but that’s another story. In our new house we have electric baseboard heaters in each room, but the front room has a lovely wood stove. Seeing this stove, I thought it would be an ideal way to heat the house in the winter. Use wood, a relatively cheap yet renewable resource, and save money on electric heat, which in our neck of the wood uses non-renewable resources.

So my sister and I speak to our new neighbours, check prices, and research what it means to be a wood burner. In case you are wondering, this method of heating is not for wimps, nor is it for the uninformed.

For example, when you wake up on a chilly fall morning and the house is cold and the Chihuahua is walking around with her teeth chattering, you need kindling to start the fire. If you do not have a nice pile of kindling ready, you cannot expect that scrunched up newspaper will start a big log. Nope.

Now if you decide to head to the woodpile in your housecoat, be prepared. That axe handle is damned cold. And when you lift the axe overhead in order to take a first resounding whack at that stump of wood, expect that your housecoat is going to come undone and somehow in the motion of that full swing, things are flapping around and the axe glances off the top of the danged log and takes a chunk out of the garage floor instead. Yes, I was chopping wood in the garage. You didn’t really think I’d be outside in the open doing this did you? Why would I chop outside where the neighbours might see me in my earliest attempts to cut a piece of wood? Where my housecoat flying open could reveal what I sleep in (which is not much, in case you went there already).

When it is cold, chopping wood is best done in your heavy denim cowboy jeans, a pair of work boots rather than slippers, and a good pair of leather work gloves. I know I look like a keener but I think it was worth not getting caught in the whirling swirling ribbon of dressing gown or introducing the axe – shiny and newly sharp – to my slippers. I have now developed a system for cutting wood. When I am at my dining room table writing, I need frequent breaks to keep me awake and my writing stimulating. I write, chop, steep tea, write some more, chop and dump the now cold tea and exchange it for a hot one…and the house gets lovely and warm with all that wood burning. And I have all my fingers and toes and can now quite confidently chop wood in my back yard. Yup.

The part about the band

This week is my dad’s 75^th birthday. Which puts me in mind of his 50^th birthday, when the band played on my lawn. At the time, I was part of a military marching band. My friends were keen band members, jazz enthusiasts and eager to play any chance they got. So, on my dad’s 50^th birthday, they marched down the street in their blue jeans and runners playing their hearts out. They set up on the front lawn, and to my dad’s perpetual joy and the mist in all our eyes, they played.

On the 25^th anniversary of that, my favourite concert, and my dad’s 75^th birthday, thanks my friends.

Happy Birthday Dad!!

100 Things About Me.

100 things about me.

1. I am 42 years old.
2. I am Canadian, and happy about it.
3. The only good diabetic hard candies I have ever found are by Jolly Rancher. And no, I did not get paid for saying that.
4. I have written and published a novel.
5. Getting sweaty gives me hives.
6. Eating stuff with MSG gives me hives and sometimes makes it hard to breathe.
7. Some days I hate cooking. As I get older the frequency seems to be increasing.
8. I have two kids who are pretty grown up now, but they will always be my favourite kids anywhere.
9. I love taking pictures.
10. I like protein shakes for breakfast or lunch.
11. If this is my one chance at life, then I choose to make the most of it.
12. If all vegetables tasted like the ones that the nice restaurants serve, I would probably eat more of them without complaining.
13. I think I am allergic to alcohol; it always makes my face really hot.
14. I love sitting in front of a fireplace.
15. I am a career counsellor but not a bartender. You don’t have to tell me all your problems.
16. I like speaking in front of groups of people.
17. I am a middle child and I am OK with that.
18. I went to school in England for a while as a kid; once for four months, and once for seven.
19. I believe in public education. I wish that the government did as well.
20. I do not like riding the bus.
21. I am sick and tired of rude people.
22. I have terrific neighbours.
23. I love Christmas music.
24. I have worked at a lot of different jobs. Babysitter, jewellery clerk, musician, soldier, receptionist, sales clerk, insurance something or other, teacher, rehabilitation consultant, cake decorator, speaker and writer.
25. I am great procrastinator.
26. I recently discovered that I like to knit.
27. I think that lettuce is largely useless.
28. If I get tired playing right handed, I can change to left.
29. My parents both beat cancer.
30. I can be invisible.
31. I love stationary.
32. I love the smell of elementary school.
33. My teeth have always been pretty straight but I have many fillings.
34. My grade nine grad dress came from the Army & Navy.
35. I love soft yarns and sweaters.
36. I can swear like the soldier I used to be, and it drives my mother crazy.
37. My favourite movies are about relationships.
38. I actually like to watch TV. I find it funny the number of people who say they never watch TV but they know what’s happening on all the reality shows.
39. I have played flute, piano, ukulele, recorder, penny whistle, alto saxophone, oboe, clarinet and glockenspiel. None of them really well, but all with great enthusiasm.
40. Oh, and I can still play a B-flat scale on a trombone.
41. I can remember my first boyfriend’s ID number. We were in the army together, but that is nearly 25 years ago.
42. I like bird watching.
43. People who are late make me crazy.
44. I love using power tools.
45. I have learned how to chop, dry and stack wood. It’s not for wimps.
46. It took me a year to perfect making Yorkshire Puddings like my mum does. It took my daughter about 2 tries.
47. My dream car is a Jaguar.
48. I have visited Alaska.
49. I like steak with lots of garlicky mushrooms.
50. I don’t like the baked potato half as much as I like the sour cream on it.
51. I like making jams and preserves.
52. I love the smell of bread baking.
53. I prefer butter to margarine.
54. I try to eat right and buy bird seed bread, but I actually prefer white.
55. I wonder what the world will be like one hundred years from now.
56. I love to buy new clothes and get dressed up.
57. I would like to be more outgoing.
58. I do not feel guilty about sleeping in late.
59. I love shrimp.
60. I really treasure time when I am alone and everything is quiet.
61. I bought an African drum to meditate with.
62. I like puttering in the garden but would like a gardener for all the work.
63. Live music is the best kind, the happier the better.
64. If I had lots of money I would not work for money.
65. I think that good friends are a true treasure.
66. I really like making things for people when I have the time or the energy.
67. I like wrapping gifts for people.
68. Singing is one of my favourite things – even if it is just in my head.
69. Barbra Streisand and Bette Midler both sing in my range.
70. I still love Sleepless in Seattle and You’ve Got Mail.
71. Sam Elliott is one of my favourite actors. He has the cowboy voice nailed.
72. One of my favourite sounds is to hear a child laughing.
73. I have been married twice.
74. I do not have a lot of childhood memories. When I am old I will probably have to make some up.
75. I love wearing sunglasses.
76. I love my red shoes.
77. I want to see the Christmas Tree in Rockefeller Center.
78. My favourite vacation stop was Quebec City.
79. I loved band camp in North Dakota.
80. I am lousy at video games but like to watch my daughter play them.
81. Sometimes I like to do absolutely nothing.
82. I am going to plant holly in my garden this summer.
83. I thought I was a morning person until I met my second husband.
84. I love a beautiful sunrise almost as much as a stunning sunset.
85. I like to buy local food and encourage everyone to do the same. Strawberries grown at home have taste – unlike the ones trucked in from anywhere else.
86. I support the slow food movement. If you don’t know what that is, just ask me!
87. I am getting a little slower at writing these; 100 things all about me is a long list and I think I just ran out of ideas.
88. I would prefer to wear blue jeans every day of the week rather than dress pants or – arghh – a skirt.
89. I love that home hair dye kits have come such a long way and that I can upgrade my ‘do for less than $20.
90. I cut my own hair most of the time.
91. The first haircut I did for someone else was with a pair of nail scissors, and I stabbed the guy in the neck. I still feel bad about that. Sorry R.H.
92. My favourite memories ever are when I had my kids.
93. My worst memories ever have been when my kids were sick or hurt.
94. My daughter has been clinically dead and was resuscitated after a drowning incident. She has also survived meningitis. I think that God has a special plan for her, and pray that he helps her figure out what that is.
95. By nature I am a helper, but sometimes even I get tired of helping others. Will they not learn to do things for themselves?
96. I was a timid child, but I am not a timid adult.
97. I like natural fibres and fabric, like wood and slate and cotton and silk.
98. I love the fact that I am a mum. I may not always be the best mum, but it is the best job in the world.
99. I like going to bed early and reading a good book.
100. Sometimes – OK a lot of the time – I skip to the end of the book so I don’t die from the suspense. Don’t hate me for it.