tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-23909929670208929322024-02-07T04:39:16.090-05:00Aggravation StationMissy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.comBlogger534125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-19551842849381514882018-01-02T23:19:00.003-05:002018-01-02T23:26:40.308-05:00Food for the Soul2018. A new year. New resolutions made in an attempt to better one's life. I'm not generally one for resolutions. I can never stay focused on them any way. But the idea to <i>be</i> better and <i>do</i> better has been more and more appealing to me as I get older. With age comes clarity of sorts. I think. And clarity in this fucked up world should guide one to want to do better. <br />
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They say all of your experiences in life shape the person you become. I've never been consciously aware of the actual <i>shaping </i>in the past, but it's been quite noticeable over the last year or two. I know I pick up a lot of my experiences through my profession and through the volunteer work I do, and I'm aware that most people don't get to experience those kinds of life lessons on the regular. I know I'm lucky in that sense. And 43 years later I'm feeling the effects of my life's lessons. I'm genuinely not the person I used to be. Not even the person I was 2 years ago. I'm not completely different but different enough. I know my changes aren't received well by some of the people in my life but that's okay, these are <b>my </b>changes and change is often scary to many and avoided by most. <br />
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The biggest change I've made in my life is to really try to keep the awesome people I have met through my journey close to me. I know it's hard to find time on a consistent basis to give each person I love the quality and quantity of time they deserve. It's hard to juggle a full time job, a part time volunteer position, an intimate relationship, a family life with my kids, personal time, and all my friends. Sometimes something has to give. Over the past year I've tried to find extra time to make sure my friendships are given the attention they need and I want. I don't always find success but I'm trying. And hopefully that counts for something. <br />
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I know some of my friends feel neglected or left out. That's never my intention and it makes me sad to know I've let someone who is important to me down. So even though it's a new year I'm still not going to make a resolution. Resolutions more often than not just get broken. I'm going to carry on with my plan of the past couple of years to incorporate those people who make me laugh and feed my soul, into my regular routine. <br />
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Death on a day to day basis has reminded me that we need to make the time NOW. Drive the 2 hour road trip for a dip in a hot tub with friends, or an hour long couch sesh. Sleep in a bed that isn't yours just to share some much needed laugh therapy. Come one number away from a $900 BINGO prize so you have something to whine about with a friend. Try your friend's red wine just to see if you might like it this time around. Have friends over to play pin ball or air hockey, you will constantly have new high scores to try to beat! Make dinner for your extended family to remind yourself that you aren't a terrible cook. Go out and try new things and new experiences, and bring a friend. You may end up with some pretty neat stuff, stories and memories. Have your mom or dad come over and teach you a new skill before they can't anymore. Go see a live performance; the arts are crucial; and take someone with you who wouldn't normally do that. Take pictures. Lots of pictures. There are so many worse things happening in this world than taking your picture. Make a change in someone's life by volunteering. It's as much for you as it is for them. Trust me. Send an unsolicited text just to let someone know you thought of them, even if it was just fleeting. Support your friends business or professional life, it really does matter. Take even just 20 minutes to visit a friend when they are in the hospital. Like that Instagram photo (even if you don't really) or Facebook post because it's an easy way to bring someone a quick boost, literally and figuratively. Pay a compliment, to the people you love. Often. Extend the invitation even when it's been turned down numerous times before. Sometimes don't say anything. Just listen. BE the change in someone's life. It really isn't too hard, you can find a way. <br />
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Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-52826955514902445232016-11-22T19:42:00.004-05:002016-11-24T01:22:29.659-05:0021 Years<br>
I want to preface this post with a couple things about me as a person. I am very capable of reading something on Facebook that I don't agree with <b>and</b> continue scrolling without giving my two cents; and 99% of the time that's what I do. Another thing about me as a person is I'm very infrequently offended by something someone says or does. And <i>another </i>thing about me is that I can disagree with something you believe in and vice versa and it's not immediate grounds for a friendship break up. We are all individuals with our own thoughts and beliefs and I try to respect that. As best I can. I'm not perfect though and some times something cuts me enough for me to stew about. Sometimes I stew but find a way to put it behind me and move on and sometimes that same issue is revisited again and then I'm done putting it behind me. Which leads me to this post. And whether the issue at hand was brought forward by a friend or acquaintance shouldn't dismiss my feelings on it. So, at the risk of jeopardizing an old friendship I feel inclined to speak my mind on something.<br>
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For a large part of my life my father struggled with alcohol issues. It's no secret, I'm not outing his anonymity by making this statement. When he passed away he had been sober for 21 years. He was super proud and we, his family were beyond proud of his achievement. However, leading up to his decision to get sober he, we, our family were shaped by the events that transpired from his drinking (both fun and bad). In the end, the bad memories outweighed the fun memories.<br>
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Overall, our family situation was mild, compared to the myriad of stories I've heard and read about through the years, living among the clouds of alcoholism. On the surface, getting sober looked super easy for my dad. I'd hazard a guess that it wasn’t though. I'm sure he had many difficult days along his journey. <br>
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I have <i>also</i> had many encounters with people who self medicate with drugs and alcohol. These people KNOW what they are doing is detrimental to their health and well being but the numbness that comes with these vices far outweighs the reality of their life without them. Sometimes these people accept that with continued use these vices <b>will </b>kill them or destroy every good thing in their life and they try to get help. But asking for help is so hard and even harder is drying out and getting sober; and <i>then </i>even harder than that is STAYING sober for the long haul using the techniques they are taught.<br>
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My point is, I guess, that struggling with addiction shouldn't be made into a joke. Not drinking for a period of time for some is more difficult than anything they've ever done in their life. So when someone makes light of it on Facebook and seems to be seeking attention and support for a temporary sobriety I get extremely insulted and irritated. Consistently posting about how many more days until said person can drink again is infuriating. <br>
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If one wants to stop consuming alcohol for a period of time for one's health, then just quietly go about doing it. But don't publicly and jokingly count down the weeks or days until you can drink again, insinuate you are getting sober, rejuvenating your liver so you'll be good to go again, and preparing for the holidays. Your casual, 'light hearted' comments are insulting to those who do actually struggle to get sober and remain sober, hurtful to those who live with someone who struggles with alcohol daily, and disrespectful to those who have lost the battle with their addictions (some of them your own friends). <br>
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I just write this as a reminder to be mindful of what you write on social media because you never know who is reading your stuff and how harmful or upsetting your 'jokes' can be to them. Now I'll go back to my regular scheduled minding of my own business. <br>
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<br>Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-51268750396309375732016-10-11T23:15:00.002-04:002016-10-11T23:15:49.547-04:00Heavy"I don't know how you do your job." If I had a nickel for every time I was the receiver of that sentence I wouldn't need to do my job, I'd be retired (and probably slightly bored). My stock answer is, "Some days are definitely harder than others. Thankfully, those are few and far between." <br />
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It's been a solid 20 year run with Funeral Services and myself. Twenty years. Seriously. That's a long freaking time doing the same thing! A benchmark in today's world. And, in that 20 years I've always done relatively well at filtering through the really 'hard ones', processing the impact they have on all aspects of my life and not letting them take a permanent hold. Maybe I've been delusional, maybe I just haven't encountered a really tough one that shakes me to the core. Twenty years though, that can't possibly be true. I need to give myself more credit. When I signed up to volunteer with Victim Services we had to sit through a couple 'self help' sessions. I breezed through them with familiarity and ease. Not because I'm immune to needing self care, but unbeknownst to me all the tips and tricks they shared, I'd been doing in my everyday career even when I didn't realize what I was doing. So I thought, I got this. And for the most part, I certainly do. <br />
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Until last month...Last month a situation at work shook me to my core. Or, maybe it's just been a summer of really tragic deaths and by September, when I was called upon for this most recent tragic death, my mental health had had just about enough. Who knows? In 20 years of funeral services I've encountered a few 'really close to home' situations that were hard to shake but, somehow I have managed to process them and carry on doing what I do with no obvious long term effects. I know I'm capable of carrying on this time as well, but there is no doubt in my mind this one with stay with me until the day I die. We're all malleable and flexible, we are shaped by our experiences; both good and bad. And, this particular experience <i>has </i>already changed me. I'm confident it will shape me into a better person but change me, it most certainly will.<br />
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I know I'm truly blessed that after all this time I'm still capable of declaring that I enjoy my job/career. However, it saddens me that I often meet some really stellar people at one of the most trying times of their lives. Don't get me wrong, I meet lots of rude and self entitled people who I'm just as happy to see leave as well. But sometimes it's hard to accept the fact that I will emotionally and mentally ingrain myself into these people's lives and then just as quickly my role is done and I never see them again. It selfishly bothers me that often the memory of me to these people tends to be clouded by their loss. I'm a really decent person! I try not to take offence when these people say they never want to see me again. Sometimes it's hard though...<br />
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Back to September...I very much connected with this particular family. It's unfortunate that the circumstance that brought me to this family is horrific. I have never been more sorry to meet someone and grateful at the same time. I'm not sure if that even makes sense. I know as difficult as these past few weeks have been for me, it's not even one percent of what that particular family is going through. I know that despite all of the internal struggle I have experienced, I've helped them begin their grieving process in a positive way (even if there is nothing positive about this entire situation). They've asked me to keep in touch with them. They've told me I've become part of their family now. Because I rarely mix my work life with my home life, I'm struggling to find a way to honour their request to keep in touch because I <i>know</i> they are genuine. But I worry that maybe that's not the wisest idea for my own personal mental health. So I struggle to do what's right. For them and me. <br />
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I'm not sure that there's a point to this particular post. Maybe it's just a way for me to get some of my confused feelings out of my head. Maybe I thought if I just kept on typing the clear answers would come to me. At this paragraph though, I'm no wiser or clearer. I do know that everything came together to put me in front of this family the way it should have. I do believe I was supposed to meet these people. And hopefully they were supposed to meet me. I do not believe the tragic event that took place was supposed to happen. I just believe once it did, I was supposed to come into their lives. I'm still not clear on who was supposed to benefit from it more, me or them. I do know with certainty that we have influenced each other in our short time together. As I move forward, I will carry a piece of all of them with me forever. I hope I am able to find a way to keep those pieces from feeling too heavy. <br />
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<br />Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-57343589849811525982016-09-28T16:37:00.002-04:002016-09-28T16:37:41.162-04:00Parking Lot Rendevous<br />
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My place of employment (a private company, <em>not</em> city owned) received this "note" jammed in the door of the funeral home on Sunday, after a notice was left on this person's car when it was parked in our <strong>private</strong> parking lot, without permission on Saturday (during open business hours). The past Saturday in question, our city was hosting its annual Grape & Wine (Niagara Wine Festival) Parade and Festivities in the downtown core. We are also located downtown just a few blocks from the big event. This is an annual event so we are more than aware of it and understand what it contributes to our community each year. <br />
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Now back to the note. First of all, if you are going to make "threats", the very least you can do it <em>own</em> them. Sign your name, leave a phone number or better yet, call to have your say to an actual human being on Sunday. My biggest irritants these days are everyone's sense of entitlement and everyone's extra courage when they are backed by anonymity. I'll presume she would not have made those threats if she was speaking directly to a human being. But since she didn't have the nerve to leave her contact info (I'll also presume it was a female based on her writing.) I'll leave my reply right here.<br />
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Dear Self-entitled Driver:<br />
Perhaps next time you decide to take it upon yourself to deem yourself worthy of trumping every other person in town you'll think twice and take 1 minute out of your day to actually ask the owners of the parking lot you wish to park in, for free, if it's okay for you to use the space. If you had done that you would have realized that we actually <em>are</em> VERY community minded and would have given you permission to park in our lot. However, we would have stipulated which spaces were available for you to park in. You see, we like to ensure that there are spaces that are always available for the people that are actually parking to use our services/business. <br />
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Because death doesn't only operate Monday to Friday, 9-5, our business was open. I know that's rare in a downtown core so maybe you were confused. But again, that confusion could have been cleared up had you actually tried our door to see if it was open. And then when the door opened you could have, you know, asked! <br />
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While I appreciate your presumption that every private person, business, and sector within the city limits must support all city endeavors, our client families will always come first (regardless of your threat of tattling to Facebook or the St. Catharines Standard). So because of that there are a few different situations that we "hold strong" on with regards to random people simply using our lot without permission for free parking. These situations warrant a note being left on the offending vehicle and include the following: <br />
<ul>
<li>People who make it a habit, day after day,; to park their car in our <em>private</em> lot during week day business hours so they don't have to buy a city parking pass. Now that's not very community minded now is it??</li>
<li>People who park in our lot when our "no parking" signs are out and visible at all entrances. These people choose to just outright ignore our <em>temporary</em> signs and drive right around them to park. These people are just like <strong>you</strong>! You'd probably like each other. However, these signs are only put into the lot when we have an active funeral going on in the building or there is a visitation for a deceased person. </li>
<li>People who not only aren't courteous enough to ask to use our lot, but sneak in and park in the parking spaces that are actually <em>permanently</em> marked as<strong> Immediate Family Parking Only</strong> or <strong>Clergy Parking</strong>. This is the category that <strong>YOU</strong> fall into! You see, these are the spaces that we ensure are left open so our client families ALWAYS have a place to park. And these are the spaces where you left your car. </li>
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We even let our <em>direct competitors </em>(that would be other funeral homes if you are confused) use our lot for funerals they are conducting when they take place at either church beside us, provided one of the three examples above aren't breached. AND, we allow our lot to be use by both churches for their church services provided our temporary signs aren't out and they don't park in the Immediate Family Parking Only spots! I don't know about you, but I think that's pretty community-minded of us. <br />
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I do have one question for you, dear self-entitled driver. If you were invited to a private party at your friend's house and you showed up and their drive way was already full and the street outside of their house was littered with the cars of all the people that got there before you, would you just take it upon yourself to park in their neighbour's drive way without getting permission from them? Oh you wouldn't because that's<em> their</em> drive way and it's privately owned? Hmm, you can think of our parking lot the same way. <br />
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Also, just so you are aware Ms. Self-entitled (I've shortened it because I feel like we know each other a little better now) on Saturday we DID have a family coming into the funeral home to make arrangements for someone they love who died. Someone who wasn't lucky enough, like you, to go have a stellar time at Grape & Wine with her friends or family. You can imagine... a family who are probably at a most stressful time in their lives who shouldn't have to be stressed out even more just trying to find a parking space. <br />
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So just to sum it all up, you are a selfish person. IF you had thought outside of your own self centered bubble you'd realize the world, nor the funeral home I work at, don't owe you anything. IF you had the wherewithal to come into the building with a smile on your face and inquire if it was okay to park in our lot you'd have been pleasantly surprised when you received a, "For sure, but just make sure you're not in a family spot. And have a great time!" Oh wait you wouldn't have been pleasantly surprised, because you just expected that response. My bad.<br />
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And one last thing, these are just a few of the Community groups myself or another member of my team volunteer their time with. I wouldn't want you to <em>really</em> believe we don't give back to our community. This is just a tiny list of how we contribute to our city and region, but by no means is it all encompassing: <br />
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Masonic Lodge<br />
St. Catharines Business Club<br />
St. Catharines Ad & Sales<br />
Kiwanis Club<br />
Niagara Victim Services<br />
Foundation Board Member of a local retirement community<br />
Niagara Peninsula Children's Centre<br />
Chamber of Commerce<br />
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So if you ever see this and wish to apologize for being a jerk, please, call the funeral home or stop by some time to see me. I'm pretty sure you know where we're located. We have a parking lot just out back and along the side of the building for you to park with ease (unless someone like you beats you to the space). <br />
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Kind and warmest regards, <br />
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Me. <br />
The Manager of that "Non Community-minded Funeral Home."<br />
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<br />Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-40600070938528143902016-09-17T10:47:00.002-04:002016-09-17T10:47:28.512-04:00Up Up and AwaySo here I sit, killing time until I have to go pick Gage up from class. The last time I posted about Gage and school, he was leaving home and venturing out into the big, bad, scary world as a college student. Well expensive lesson learned! He wasn't<i> quite</i> ready for that. And the course he chose to take didn't hold his interest once he started the actual program. So after the first semester, he decided to cut his losses, drop out and move back home. While I was disappointed for his sake, I'm not going to lie, despite the renewed chaos in my house, I was super glad to have him back.<br />
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So since January he's been back with us. The house has been overrun by hordes of 19 year old 'kids' (plus Roan's friends) again, the grocery bill went up, the laundry loads increased but so did the stories and conversation. During this time he has been working part time, obtained his driver's license and decided on a new career path and put a plan into action.<br />
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Last month, I guess it was, he enrolled in Ground School and has started to work towards obtaining his Pilot's license. The end goal, after a bunch more years, is to become a Commercial Pilot. Roan finds it funny that school to become a Pilot where you <i>fly</i> an object is called Ground school. I'm hoping it's because they are going to teach him mad skillz so he <i>always</i> returns a plane to the <b>ground</b> in one piece! This whole flying those little metal coffins with wings part is causing this poor momma some added stress. Between driving a car and flying a plane, I have a feeling all those grey hairs I have managed to elude are going to come in full throttle.<br />
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Eric and I have been telling him for the past few years, while he was trying to sort out what he wanted to do for a living, to find something that he enjoyed that he could also turn into a career rather than just having a job. A family friend who has been working towards his own Pilot's license over the past year or so offered to take Gage up for a Familiarization Flight back in May/June. Unbeknownst to Gage the Pilot let him control the plane from take off through to lining it up for landing with the runway. He spent about 30 - 40 minutes flying the plane over the Welland Canal and parts of the Niagara Region. The only thing he didn't do was put the plane back onto solid ground. Needless to say, he <b>loved </b>it. He talked incessantly about it so, we planted the seed about turning this into a potential career.<br />
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After another month or so, we did some research and learned he could take classes a couple days a week and fulfil his flight hours through the Niagara On The Lake Airport all the while living at home and working part time; both of which would help offset the costs associated with all this training. <br />
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So here I sit, waiting to pick the kid up from class hoping he never crashes a plane, never has to do an emergency landing and gets a job with Air Canada. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This image has nothing to do with flying or Gage's schooling. It's stupid and funny and I had no where else to put it.</td></tr>
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<br />Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-45993467962758532922016-09-13T21:04:00.000-04:002016-09-13T21:04:00.706-04:00HomeHello again. I'd love to say I'm back, making a concerted effort to maintain my blog but I don't like false promises. So let's just see what becomes of all of this. <br />
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I've been struggling to find anything substantial to write about, so I just don't bother to come around these parts too often. But I started this blog to act as a diary of sorts so, I guess I don't really need anything too specific to talk about.<br />
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That being said, my <strike>exasperation</strike> <strike>shock</strike> dumbfoundedness (that's not a word but it should be) brought me back. There's a long, drawn out, stupid story that's been unravelling around me that has gotten to the point of irritating the shit out of me. And so here I am. To find my thoughts or feelings on it. It's not my story. And you have <b>no </b>idea how utterly and eternally grateful I am that it's not my story. But it's a story that affects two of the most important people in my life. So if affects me. <br />
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Following my marital break up in 2002 I have often wondered how long I'd be subjected to the actions (or inactions) of my ex-husband (father of my children). As the boys have gotten older and my reliance on the ex to participate in co-parenting has diminished I find I'm subjected less and less, thankfully. If I'm being frank the only thing my ex has been fairly consistent with is disappointing them and me. The older the boys get and the more they start to see him for what he truly is the less inclined I feel to cover for him or defend his actions. But I can't help looking at my kids and feeling a pit of anger in my gut for how poorly he's parented over the past 19+ years. Like piss poor. Everyone but him sees it. I genuinely think that he believes he's a good father simply because he pays child support. A fucking legal requirement. Nothing he should deem medal worthy. <br />
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He's fallen down on this role so often nothing surprises us any more. His excuses always lie at the feet of another person. He's never really taken ownership over any of his terrible decisions or actions. <i>I've</i> always seen it but now the boys see it. I knew this day would eventually come. I always thought I'd feel vindicated but I don't. I just feel sad. Sad for the boys, not the ex. I don't feel anything for him. I'm used to constantly being let down. I'm used to the excuses. I'm used to his pity parties. I'm used to his absences. Sadly now the boys are too. <br />
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He's now entering into his third marriage after a 3-4 month relationship (by the time the wedding date comes) with a woman who has 5 or 6 kids. And you know what? After 5 years or so he's finally put beds in his 3 bedroom house for a child to sleep in! No, not his children - Silly you! The unfinished, dank basement or the living room couch is good enough for his boys! And that extra room that hasn't housed a room-mate or himself for the past 5 years was good enough to hold all the boxes of shit he didn't need instead of being used as a bedroom for his kids. If he thinks for one second this didn't go unnoticed by his youngest child, he's a fucking moron. He also has his head crammed too far up his own ass if he thinks his kid hasn't realized that every time he's late to pick up his son(s) he has somehow managed to pick her kids up first. <br />
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So when he sits back after a few shots of hard alcohol and reflects on his life and wonders why his kids don't spend a lot of time at his place or with him or show obvious support of this upcoming marriage he should pull his head out of his ass, if ever so slightly, so he can get a clearer image of what he's done over the years to contribute to this turn of events. And maybe he'll be able to be a decent role model for her 5-6 children. <br />
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I know I gave up a lot of personal time, freedom, money, etc., for the sake of my two sons. And lord knows my house is a constant state of chaos and my grocery bills are astronomical but you know what? It's all worth it. Because for my kids, <i><b>I </b></i>am "home". I am where the heart is. Truly.<br />
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Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-55955161294336750462016-04-22T15:24:00.000-04:002016-04-22T15:24:23.276-04:00Reprint: A Very Overlooked "Secret"<h1>
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<em>I came across this very well written article about Funeral Directors and Funeral Service in general. (I did not write this, though I easily could have.) You have no idea how I wish it was possible to have every single family I serve read this BEFORE we make arrangements together. Some days we all feel more appreciated than other days. Too often, it's the 'other days' that overshadow. </em><br />
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<em>- Holly (Aggravation Station) </em><br />
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I’m a Funeral Director; A Person Just Like You</h1>
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Posted <span class="by-author"> by <span class="author vcard"><a class="url fn n" href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/author/andshelaughs/" rel="author" title="View all posts by andshelaughs">andshelaughs</a></span></span> in <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/canadian-funeral-directors/" rel="category tag">Canadian Funeral Directors</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/canadian-funerals/" rel="category tag">Canadian Funerals</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/death/" rel="category tag">Death</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/dying/" rel="category tag">Dying</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/embalming/" rel="category tag">Embalming</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/end-of-life/" rel="category tag">End-Of-Life</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/funeral-arrangements/" rel="category tag">Funeral Arrangements</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/funeral-directors/" rel="category tag">Funeral Directors</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/funeral-etiquette/" rel="category tag">Funeral Etiquette</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/funeral-home/" rel="category tag">Funeral Home</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/funeral-planning/" rel="category tag">Funeral Planning</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/funerals/" rel="category tag">Funerals</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/life/" rel="category tag">Life</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/living/" rel="category tag">Living</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/meaning-of-life/" rel="category tag">Meaning of Life</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/mortician/" rel="category tag">Mortician</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/morticians/" rel="category tag">Morticians</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/mortuary-science/" rel="category tag">Mortuary Science</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/psychology/" rel="category tag">Psychology</a>, <a href="https://theladyatdeathsdoor.wordpress.com/category/uncategorized/" rel="category tag">Uncategorized</a> <br />
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Being the object of someone’s misplaced grief and anger really stinks. It’s even worse if you’re that punching bag day after day after day.<br />
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Welcome to funeral service.<br />
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Every day funeral directors deal with people who are in crisis, often in shock, sleep deprived and balancing way too many things that our society now demands.<br />
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We know what it’s like. We have lives too, or at least we try to. But try telling that to an individual who strolls in fifteen minutes after your shift ends and demands to see you, knowing full well they’re two hours late for their appointment, causing you to cancel your own doctor’s appointment for the third time in a row.<br />
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We hear insults directed at how much our services cost, why we can’t create a multi-media extravaganza twenty minutes before the first visitation is supposed to start, or why flowers that were delivered half-way through a service didn’t make it to the front of the church.<br />
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We help people by doing work that no one else wants to do. Funeral Director’s pass mother’s their babies and watch them kiss them good-bye. We see husbands and wives who have been with their spouse for their entire lives weep as they bury or cremate or entomb half of their own identity. We hold the hand of children who want to see their father for the last time and are afraid to approach the casket on their own. We tuck ultrasound photos of unborn babies in the hands of fathers who are laid out in their caskets while their pregnant wives are numb with shock.<br />
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Not a single funeral director came into the industry without giving the reason, ” I want to help people,” when asked why they wanted to do work that most people shudder at the thought of.<br />
Unless you’re dealing with an independent funeral home owner, we have nothing to do with price setting, policy or legislation. I know this might come as a shock, but just because we wear a tidy looking company issued suit, doesn’t mean we make a whole lot of money.<br />
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We do the work we do because we believe in honouring a human life lived. We believe in providing services so that our neighbours and communities can grieve in meaningful ways.<br />
We also live within a culture that no longer values the necessity of slowing down to grieve, or provide support to the grieving. Sadly, we live in a world that turns to “busy-ness”. Busy-ness fuels exhaustion, spiritual atrophy and general dysfunction; addictions, mental health issues, and relationship breakdowns.<br />
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“It takes a special kind of person to do what you do.” If every funeral director had a dime for every time they heard those words, we’d all be retired. I used to pay little attention to this kind of pithy patronizing. But as the years have passed, I realize that it does, indeed take a special kind of person to do what we do.<br />
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You see, when I was a kid, the local Funeral Director was someone to be respected. He (yes, it was always a he back then) made everything better and kept everyone calm when tragedy struck.<br />
But that’s changed. As our communities have grown, and our lives have gotten busier, the funeral director isn’t someone you recognize as a citizen in your town. You likely don’t recognize us because we’re either at work, or out and about just like you, caring for our families and trying to make ends meet.</div>
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Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-1126085335003400372015-12-21T20:27:00.002-05:002015-12-21T20:30:59.134-05:00For Carolyn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's only appropriate we meet here, the place that brought us together for the first time. Travel with me if you wish while I share my friend with you. She's a great person. She'd be okay with this.<br />
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In the days, weeks and months following the death of the most important human being in my life I struggled. I struggled with sadness. I struggled with anger. I struggled with guilt. I lived with a constant dull ache in my chest. But I lived. I kept on living. It's what the majority of us do. But what I struggled most with was the one question I would never have an answer to. A question that could be asked in so many ways. What was going through my dad's head upon his diagnosis? How was he <i>really</i> feeling? Was his brave face all just for us? Was it a façade? <b>Was he scared? </b>My dad was our super hero. He wasn't afraid of anything. Was he? <br />
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And then I met Carolyn. Sweet Carolyn. Someone sent her to me at just the right time. (She says I helped her too, but I really do feel our relationship was one sided.) Crossing paths was a fluke. A blip. You see Carolyn was living with Metastatic Breast Cancer in Alberta (far from my world in Ontario). There is no cure for MBC. She knew she was dying and it was just a matter of time before she would kill that cancer that was killing her. Because, when she dies, the cancer dies. No one wins in this war. And all the while Carolyn was bravely sharing her story through her blog <a href="http://www.artofbreastcancer.ca/">Art of Breast Cancer</a>. And the blogging world is where she and I became friends.<br />
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I soaked up her words as quickly as she posted them. I found comfort in her thoughts and feelings. They were raw, and hard to read, and real, and, and...exactly what I needed. So I stepped out of my comfort zone and I reached out to her (which isn't exactly easy for someone like me - I'm a care<i>giver</i>, not taker). I sought help from a woman I didn't know. A woman who had no idea I had been searching for her. A woman I had no idea<b><i> I</i></b> was searching for. And she virtually embraced me (because she's awesome). She answered my questions, she humoured me, she helped me get past this stumbling block I'd been falling over since my dad died. She shed some light on what his mental state was probably like. She gave me peace of mind. She gave me some closure.<br />
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But Carolyn was so much more than just this awesome component. While cancer tried to destroy her body, her will power, her energy, her strength; she kept on living. And she lived. In just the short time I knew her she worked on her memoirs for her three sons, she created art (she was a stunning photographer), she wrote, she was an advocate for MBC education, she was anti pink, she cared for her mother who lives with Alzheimer's Disease, she researched her illness, she beat odds, she watched her son get married, she rekindled a lost relationship with someone who was so important to her, she became a grandmother...TWICE! She remained a systir, mother, daughter, grandmother, aunt, cousin, blogger, and friend. She had the best sense of humour and was no stranger to busting out jokes at Cancer's expense. And this woman's use of the word "fuck" was like art itself. I'm sure it's what endeared her to me in the first place. Carolyn was beautiful. Like for reals, stunningly beautiful.<br />
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I know after a person dies they become untouchable; placed up on a pedestal and made out to be all saint-like. And there is no doubt in my mind someone somewhere has a terrible story or memory of Carolyn. I mean c'mon she lived almost 5 decades she was bound to mess up at least once. But she genuinely was such a lovely person. So wonderful that it escapes me more often than not that I didn't actually meet her in person - in real life, if you will. Our relationship was born and lived through the world wide web. Just typing that out makes it sound 'not real' like it's a fake friendship, but she means so much to me. She has had such an impact on me. She's helped shape me into the <i>new </i>me - the me <i>after</i> my dad died. The me who know longer has a dad to call upon. That's who I am now, and she played a strong part in that healthy transition. But we got beyond just talking about that stuff. We talked about everyday stuff. Our friendship changed. I celebrated all her milestones with her. I laughed at the craziness that was her awesome life. I encouraged her when she was feeling down. I felt pride for her when she continued to conquer. She became one of the strongest women I have ever met. I am in awe of her. So when she went into hospice I made sure I had no regrets and I told her all of that.<br />
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I told her I valued our unique friendship, and how much I appreciated her taking the time to talk to this virtual girl from Ontario about grief. I told her that her sense of humour was contagious and breathtaking. <i>She </i>was a breath of fresh air. I told her how proud I was of her and that she was someone to look up to and admire. But what I didn't tell her was how much I was going to miss her. <br />
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The death of my father, in a round about way, brought me to Carolyn. She died on what would have been my father's 66th birthday. Fuck irony. Carolyn's sense of humour would have found a laugh in that. <br />
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So to quote Carolyn's last words to <i>me</i>: <br />
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"Dear beautiful woman, you were and will remain my special friend. I love you Carolyn."<br />
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<br />Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-50804693384598988402015-08-04T19:50:00.003-04:002015-08-04T19:50:47.537-04:00Almost Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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It's only a matter of weeks left. Mere days until a part of me leaves. There's a feeling of emptiness and despair that comes over me when I think about it for more than a millisecond. I know it's silly, but for the past 18 years + he's been the one constant in my life. He's what kept me going, what kept me persevering. It's just been me and him, then me and him and Roan and then we added Eric to the mix, but it's been me and him always. I'm not really ready to lose him just yet. It's all happened so, so fast. I've blinked and just like that his needing me is gone like a blip. Everyone says it won't be like that, that he'll always need me but be realistic, boys don't up and call their mothers frequently or check in as often as we'd like. He'll meet someone and then that person will take up where I've <i>unwillingly</i> left off...And I hope I like that person because if I don't well then what?!? These are the things I've been thinking about. I already feel a bit broken and it hasn't even happened yet.<br />
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I feel like parental love is the only type of love that you enter into knowing it ultimately leads to separation. I feel a bit like Dorothy and Gage is my Scarecrow. <sad face> <br />
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Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-23868455182197761462015-08-04T19:29:00.000-04:002015-08-04T19:29:06.042-04:00It's Been a While...Hello old friend(s). It's been a while since I've visited. I didn't think I missed you but I've been lying to myself. I've been lazy and indifferent. I feel like I've let my relationship with my blog slip since the day I came into possession of a smart phone. It's just so much easier to check my familiar sites from that little gadget then it is to set up shop with my lap top. But I'm off for a week so I'm going to try to find the time to get back here and tap away at the keys and see if there is anything inside me to share. <br />
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I guess the first post should be the obligatory '<i>Whatchya been up to lately Holly?</i>' So here goes...I'm gun shy to say it out loud let alone type it, but 2015 seems to be turning into THEE year for my household. I suppose the minute I put this out there into the universe it will all come crashing down on me (or us), but I'm really trying hard to lose the pessimism deeply bred into me. <br />
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This year we have begun to see major changes in Roan. He's definitely losing some of the childlike traits. He's unlikely to cry at the drop of a hat at the first sign of disappointment and he's curbed the whining but he's still maintained his wacky sense of humour. We'll never truly know if it's because we changed his meds or if he's just maturing and coming into his own, but life is a lot easier day by day. Currently his favourite past time is scootering with his buddies while mastering new tricks weekly. It really is entertaining to watch him on that scooter zooming around with ease and learning new, crazy, tricks quickly. I'm so proud that he's found something he enjoys and he's stuck with it for the past three years or so. He's just getting better and better. <br />
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He's also signed up for Taekwondo and has committed to a year, minimum. He seems to be really enjoying it and takes his first test in the middle of August to move from white belt to yellow belt. I'm fairly certain the small goals will keep him interested and this type of training has been known to promote discipline and maturity. So here's hoping he'll continue on this new refreshing path. <br />
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School for him has never really been easy, but he seemed to have a better year this go around and really liked his teacher. She was even able to tap into the passion the kid is having for scootering and convinced the school to start a 'scooter club' that Roan is running with a friend. So my fingers are crossed that like his brother this is the year we start to see Roan's real personal growth start. <br />
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Gage is having a great year. He finished his high school career with a great surprise at his graduation ceremony: recipient of a $1500 Niagara Peninsula Energy Scholarship, Ontario Scholar Award for above 80% in Grades 11 and 12, AN Myer Medallian awarded for earning a place on the Principal's Honour Roll in Grade 12, District School Board of Niagara Silver Medallian Scholar's Award for above average 80% in Grade 11 and 12, and finally a technology Cerfitciate. Better late than never I suppose. <br />
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In February he received a letter of acceptance from Mohawk College in Hamilton for the Electrical program (his first choice) starting in September. He was also acceptance to live in Residence while away at school for his first year. Two big sighs of relief and an unexpected jubilant feeling of pride. So many mixed emotions. He's been working two part time jobs for the past couple of years and for the most part squirrelling away his money and staying out of trouble!! He really has made raising a teenager a breeze. (I feel like Roan will test my abilities a little more often. haha) Definitely turning into a good man. <br />
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Eric spent the past year working a dream gig up north in Northern Ontario with a friend of a friend. But this January he scored a great opportunity to complete testing for General Motors and eventually was offered a full time, permanent position with GM 5 minutes from home that started in early March. He's gotten a position within the plant that works perfectly with his personality so he seems genuinely pleased and appreciative of the opportunity. <br />
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Things with me are also going well. I've been keeping busy with work life, family life and my new volunteer position that started in July with Victim Services Niagara. I've also amped up my role as a funeral director at this point and time in my career and have taken on some added duties within the profession that are giving me new found passion. I was also approached with a new challenge by my company and have accepted a slightly altered position. It comes with some new stresses but I think the challenges will out weigh those in time. I'm still getting my feet wet and trying to sort it all out, but once I do I'm certain it's going to be great. Changes are all around us and I'm really enjoying the newness of it all. <br />
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So that's the first 6 months of 2015 for our little family! I'm hoping to start to find the time and desire to get back into some sort of regularity with this blog if not for anyone's sake, but my own. Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-78927209765383182642014-12-03T21:32:00.000-05:002014-12-03T21:32:00.486-05:00Scrabble Christmas OrnamentsOh goodness, it's the beginning of December again! Christmas is lurking around the corner, despite my 'grinchiness'. That's not a word, but it really should be. It's coming, like it or don't. I'm hoping as it nears closer I decide to like it. <br /><br />Two Christmases ago I decided to tap into my crafty vein and make a home made/hand crafted Christmas ornament for my tree (and as it would turn out many other people's trees in the process). I decided on making a cupcake version of an ornament. And, to my delight and surprise it turned out pretty good (for a first attempt)! Upon re-reading that blog post I have discovered a common theme (the struggle to find the Christmas spirit - I blame my Mom). If you are looking for a couple home made ornament ideas you can also go back to the cupcake ornament through this <a href="http://aggravation-station.blogspot.ca/2012/12/who-doesnt-love-cupcake.html">link</a>. <br />
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Then, something overcame me last year (Christmas spirit??) and I thought, what the heck...I'll do ANOTHER home made/hand crafted ornament. So I embarked a little bit more adventurous project and create the best little snowman ornaments using burnt out light bulbs. Ya, I know right. I'm fairly awesome. Crafty AND green! So it you want a 2nd idea for an ornament project then click the link <a href="http://aggravation-station.blogspot.ca/2013/12/handsome-little-snow-men.html">here</a> to find my sweet little family of men made of snow (not really).<br />
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So as November was coming to a close I thought about the notion of doing another Christmas ornament project for 2014. I'm hesitant to refer to this as an annual <i>thing </i>out of fear that I'll feel too much pressure and deem it 'work-like' and then not enjoy the process, but I think it might be headed that way. I'd had some ideas for future prospects and I already had pretty much all the ingredients to make one (or you know an entire batch), so deciding which style to do was pretty much a no brainer.<br />
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This past summer, during garage sale season, I'd managed to pick up two Scrabble games for a buck each. So this years ornament are Scrabble ornaments! Easy-peasy! Here's what you're going to need:<br /><br />One or two Scrabble games (find them used, they're way cheaper)<br />White crafting glue (that dried clear)<br />Some ornament hooks<br />Some Christmasy type decorations (see my samples for inspiration)<br />Hot glue gun & glue sticks<br />A thesaurus (not really)<br />
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First I laid out all the tiles face up, and I compiled a list of Christmas related words (short is better than long). Once I had a list of words to use, I started creating them with the tiles and setting them aside.<br /><br />I then used my white crafting glue to glue the top of one letter to the bottom of another. You could probably go horizontally as well, but I chose a vertical lay out. Take your time, not too much glue or you'll just have little tiny messes to clean up. I glued them together using a thin strip of wood as a temporary backing just to keep them in place until they firmed up. Then I carefully pulled the wood backing off. <br />
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Once they were dry, I used my hot glue gun to blob a dab of glue at the top on the back. I then stuck the bottom of my ornament hook into the glue and let that dry nicely. <br />
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<br />Once all the hooks were affixed to the back, I took my curly red decoration thingamajig and hot glued it to the back so when you're looking at the ornament you just see little hints of shiny red stuff. I didn't have enough red stuff to do them all, so I affixed little holly decorations to the remaining ones (which is like totally appropriate since my name is Holly and all...). <br /><br />And low and behold my 2014 Christmas decoration extravaganza (but not annual remember) was complete! So if you get one...act surprised! <br /><br /><br />Merry Christmas everyone. I hope you have a peaceful and happy season with the people who mean the most to you. Much love for all your support. <br />
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<br />Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-55102973325025341152014-10-12T11:20:00.000-04:002014-10-12T11:20:26.595-04:00Giving ThanksIt's Thanksgiving weekend everyone! Well, at least it is in Canada and since that's where I live, I stand by my statement. It's Thanksgiving weekend everyone! Gobble gobble! Over the past month or so I've been 'nominated' on Facebook to do 5-7 days of things I am thankful for. I haven't bothered. But what better time than now? What better place than here? <br /><br />So on this weekend of reflection and giving thanks I'll post some of the things I'm thankful for and maybe even a little reason why. We ALL have something to be thankful for, so take a moment to yourself today and find what that is. Many are obvious, some not so much. Let's start to focus on all the good in our lives. There's just way too much negativity and disappointment these days. <br /><br />So of course, I am thankful for my boys. To be honest, I'm thankful they aren't girls! They are dramatic all in their own right so I can't imagine mixing estrogen in with all that! I am thankful that overall, so far, they've been relatively easy to raise. I'm thankful for the close and trusting relationship I have with both of them. I'm thankful that they still tell me they love me, unsolicited. I'm thankful that they talk to me about all sorts of stuff. Nothing is really off the table. I'm thankful some blip in the universe thought to make me their mom.<br />
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I'm thankful for Eric. I'm grateful that the timing in our worlds was right. I'm grateful for a partner who is on the same page as me, who wants similar things despite our differences. I'm thankful for how wonderfully he treats me. I'm thankful that he still finds me as beautiful as he did when we first started dating (inside and out). I'm appreciative that he's pretty damn handy and tolerates all of my requests. He's <strike>my</strike> our super hero. And I'm most thankful that I still love him and actually enjoy spending time with him. <br />
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After three and a half years I'm able to say I'm thankful that my dad passed away the way he did (no not thankful he died, just <i>how</i> he died). No lengthy drawn out pain and suffering and having all of his family put their differences aside and gather around him to send him off with mountains of love and respect. I think I've decided, in an ideal world, that's how I'd like to go. <br />
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Much appreciation for my<i> almost</i> 13 year old nephew. He has taught me to be a <i>way</i> better person. He has taught me acceptance and continuously opens my eyes to the pretty spectacular miracle that is the human brain. He has shown me the value of perseverance. <br />
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So of course that means I'm also thankful for my spunky 6 year old niece. She gives me the gift of a sassy, hilarious, smart mouthed daughter without being my daughter! She brings a belly full of laughter every time I see her. She makes every day stresses (for me any way) melt away in her presence. I can hardly wait to stand by and watch during the teen years. <br /><br />My friends give me so, SO much to be thankful for! I seriously surround myself with the best group of people. I genuinely believe I have no toxicity in this department. I love all of them, near and far, old and new. I love that I don't feel pressure to be in touch with every one of them on a daily basis to be able to maintain these relationships. Every one of my friends contributes to my life in their own way. They are all unique and different, and I need every one of them! <br />
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I'm thankful for my <strike>job</strike> career. I'm thankful for the opportunities I've been presented with in my working world. I'm most thankful that after 18+ years in this industry I still very much like my job. I know not many can make the same statement. I'm grateful for the opportunity to help others at a particularly dark time and the trust they extend to me by inviting me (even if briefly) into their families. I'm grateful for all the life lessons I've managed to learn from doing this day in and day out. I genuinely feel like my career has molded me into a completely different person today than what I started out as. The company car, gas card and private office helps too. <br />
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My family (mom, dad, brother, sister and sister in law)! Did you think I was forgetting you? Pfft. I'm so blessed with a kooky and unique family who are also relatively boring and drama free. They are dependable and I know they are always near by. I know we can't choose our blood family, but in this case if I'd been able to, I'm not entirely certain I'd choose any differently. I'm still trying to figure out who they are! This much I do know; they are the people I've known the longest; they were my very first friends and frenemies; they are a constant; they are home. <br />
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My health. I'm thankful that I'm relatively healthy (I think). I'm grateful for the Health System here in Canada. Despite all its known flaws, when I have a fear or illness I can "afford" to see a doctor to ease my mind and body. <br />
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I'm thankful for my furry little friends, those that co-habitate with me now and those that have already left my side. They seem to always know when they need to be near and even when they don't. They offer what I'd like to believe is unconditional love and not just a "sucking up so I'll feed them" move. <br />
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I'm thankful for my house and the literal roof over our heads. I'm grateful for my ability to pay for it. With each new project this house has become a home. <br /><br />I'm appreciative of my cell phone, Facebook and Instagram. As hokey as it sounds they keep me more involved in the lives of those who are important to me. They have brought people into my life and <i>back</i> into my life who probably wouldn't have found their way there if these didn't exist. Social media affords me the opportunity to actively participate in their lives on a consistent basis and I feel like I always know what's going on in their worlds. <br />
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I am grateful for my sense of humour and easy going nature; my lack of giving a deep rooted shit about what others do in their lives or my need to voice my opinion. There are just too many nay sayers out there now that feel like their opinion of what other people do (when it's not actually hurting others) is warranted or wanted. I'm glad I'm not one of those people. I'm grateful for not being uptight. I'm thankful for having an open mind. <br /><br />
On the flip side, I'm thankful for my ability to judge others and <i>still</i> find something positive about them. <br /><br />Despite everything I'm thankful for my ex-husband who contributed to the existence of two of my most favourite human beings. I'm grateful that despite all the hiccups through the years we have still remained on friendly terms and my boys love him and enjoy spending time with him. <br /><br />I'm thankful for my in-laws, who I'm pretty sure like me even when Eric tells me they'd never let on if they didn't, so I'll never really know. I'm thankful for being welcomed into their fold and I'm super grateful they've welcomed my boys into their world. I'm grateful for feeling at home in their house and the comfort I have opening the refrigerator without asking first. That's huge! <br />
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But especially for this weekend, I'm super-dee-duper grateful for two hot meals cooked for me. Food always tastes better when someone else prepares it. I'm kidding (probably not)...I'm thankful for the opportunity to spend time with some of those crazy people I mention above, this weekend. <br />
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So again, Happy Thanksgiving everyone. I hope you are blessed to be able to spend some time with the people who mean the most to you. I hope you steal a chance to reflect on what's important in your life and what isn't. Please make the most of what you have been given and find the good around you. <br />
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xoxo<br />
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<br />Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-91621472510379671172014-10-12T00:56:00.004-04:002014-10-12T01:11:15.285-04:00Warm Fuzzies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So this year marked the 40th anniversary of me being alive. To commemorate that day I decided I was going to have a party to ring in the end of my 4th decade. Working almost 20 years in funeral services has taught me a lot, but mainly that life is short so enjoy it as best you can, don't sweat the small stuff and most importantly, create memories with those people that mean the most and affect you the best. So I took the bull by the horns and I ensured that happened.<br />
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I wanted to keep it fairly simple overall so as not to make it a stressful project. My only must haves were a hall, a candy table, a 'photo booth', and a Holly play list of music. Though in typical Holly <br />
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fashion, about an hour before the party was set to begin there was a small fire brewing at the hall. No literally, a small fire! For those of you that truly know me you know of my history with fires and my understandable fear of them. My awesome photographer for the night, and friend, Dave (<a href="http://www.lucky73.com/">Lucky73</a> Photography) came to my rescue and squashed that threat. <br />
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So many of my friends graced me with the privilege of their company that evening and I will be forever grateful. A few of them came from far away too! There were definitely many missed faces, but the night was still so wonderful for me. It was full of so many cherished friends and family. <br />
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At one point in the evening, I took a moment to just stand there and take it all in. And, I thought to myself, "This is living. This is what it's all about. Being surrounded by people I love and by people who clearly appreciate me. This is it."<br />
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So while I thought for sure the party would be the highlight of this years birthday celebrations, and it most certainly was, Eric surprised me with a little project of his own. He included in the envelope with the invitations I sent out a letter requesting people to submit their own memories of me. What an incredibly awesome surprise! While it would have been totally amazing to get one from everyone, he did get a fair amount of returns. And I loved reading every one of them!<br />
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I think the thing I found most interesting about reading other people's memories of me was just how differently I remembered the same situation. Or, I won't lie...NOT remembering it right away.<br />
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Eventually I remembered them all, but I have always thought I had a memory like a steel trap, but I've forgotten more things than I know and it was so incredible to be reminded of these great times. <br />
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Here's a small sampling of what some people said in their memories:<br />
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"We decided to throw caution to the wind and make the journey without a guarantee of success. In the spirit of youth, we scrounged together what little money we had, hit the road and hoped for the best, as we often did in those days.<br />
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"She makes you laugh. She listens. She helps plot against the people who are messing with you. She is a constant."</div>
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"I know I can count on her to always be straight up and I value our rare 'girls nights'. I count Holly among one of my few true friends."</div>
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"You were a dancing queen when you could barely walk."</div>
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"I am awed by the compassion you have for others. You are teaching your sons to be caring and considerate as well."</div>
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"We have come to know you as a happy, outgoing and extremely confident person who surprises us in many different ways on a regular basis. Your devotion and dedication to your family, your friends and the clients you work with is remarkable." </div>
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"We don't talk every day and have even gone a few years without speaking, but when I needed her she was there for me, when her father passed away she knows I was there for her. Every time we see each other it's like we just saw each other yesterday and we take right off from there."</div>
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"Out of all the people in my life, you were the one person that could always keep me in check. Never taking my shit and calling me on it. Sometimes I would get pissed but deep down inside I truly respected you for it. This all carried over to my adult life and is probably one of the reasons I am who I am today."</div>
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"After my relationship broke down, Holly was always ready with a listening ear, a helpful suggestion, a laugh, and a reality check when I needed it. She seemed to know when to share her own experience and when to just listen. She was able to balance her friendship with my ex at the same time. She never took sides."</div>
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I seriously have the best friends and family ever. I'm going to keep my stack of memories in envelopes...sort of like a stack of love letters from my friends and family. Thank you so very much to those that took a moment out of their day to share their thoughts and memories with me. I've kept them private. Even Eric hasn't truly read them. I'm humbled and honoured and I feel the same way about all of you. This has been the most absolute best birthday ever. Thank you to everyone who contributed in some way. I love you all. My heart is full. </div>
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Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-27302978115223939762014-08-24T18:35:00.000-04:002014-08-24T18:35:06.252-04:00School Issues, Blah. It's that time of year again. Summer break is wrapping up quickly. Aside from when I was a child, I can't remember a summer break that I've welcomed more. Roan really struggled this past year and as a parent it really was the first time I experienced a lot of frustration directed towards my child's school and teacher(s). I've always been the parent to err on the side of the education system. Why wouldn't I be? Gage fits the mold of what a typical boy student is like (give or take a couple incidences where I had to talk to the Principal). I really try to understand the frustrations a teacher must face day in and day out. I can imagine...and frankly it's why I know I could never do that job. Whenever there was an incident with either of my kids at school I made sure I followed through with the 'punishment' at home. It was clear to my kids that they wouldn't be able to play one against the other when it came to me and the school system. <br />
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Until this year. Roan started a new school. It's not an entirely <em>new</em> school to me because Gage did two years there as well before venturing off to high school. Gage even won the "Most Personal Growth" award (or something along those lines). Gage excelled there. But, Gage doesn't have issues with paying attention...Roan does. And it's been made quite clear to me that, like it or not, this school <em>ain't got no time for that</em>! <br />
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I've read and heard numerous stories and reports from parents on how their school system has failed them. I've listened to tales of frustration and whoa from family members about trying to fight the system for the betterment of their child. In most cases, they've lost. They've had to uproot their kid and move them to another school, another district and in some cases costly private schools and then as a final resort, homeschooling. Now I'm feeling it first hand; maybe not to the extremes of the others, but enough to leave a sour taste in my mouth. <br />
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Back in December we were strong armed into putting Roan back on medication 'for his own good' as he was currently not in an academic position to move on to Grade 8. Scary words. I felt like <i>I'd</i> failed. We conceded but only with the promise from the school staff that they'd make concessions on their end too with the hopes of helping Roan succeed. Those things happened...in the beginning. And then they stopped. <br />
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I tried to reason with Roan (my initial instinct was to side with the school after all) and tell him that a teacher has 30 students, so solely helping one stay on task isn't really in the cards. I tried to tell him that he plays a huge part in his personal growth as well and that he has to find a way to push through his difficulties. But towards the end of the year, I started to take stuff personally, on behalf of Roan. <br />
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A couple of weeks before school let out, Roan`s teacher told him he was advancing to Grade 8, but barely. Ya, she used that word! Barely. Huh... barely...what did that mean exactly?? Turns out though that he didn't just <em>barely</em> pass. He had three B's, three D's and the rest C's. That doesn't scream <em>barely</em> to me. I <strong>know</strong> he is capable of better but since four months ago he was 'failing' I think that's a damn decent report card and not worthy of the title of "barely passing". My feelings were hurt on behalf of my child that she would use that word. He struggles and <em>has</em> struggled for years with low self esteem and she is <i>quite</i> aware of that. So for her to pick those words...well, I'm sad for my kid. But that's not the only thing that wrapped up the year with a bang.<br />
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The second last day of school Roan and a girl in his class were being silly, throwing stuff at each other, giggling and laughing. I'm sure their goofing off probably wasn't called for (But hey, it was the second last day of school, who's teaching?) and probably frowned upon. In their silliness the girl ended up, unintentionally, with sticky tack in her hair. When Roan brought it to her attention she panicked and ended up pushing it deeper into her hair. Both were hauled down to the office and the parents were called. The conclusion the Vice Principal jumped to was that she'd have to cut all her hair off, so Roan was suspended. Even though, according to the Vice Principal he didn't do it maliciously. Wait, what?? A couple months ago, three grade 8 boys kicked a ball hockey ball square into Roan's face (after several attempts and numerous requests from Roan to stop, they found success) which resulted in a bloody nose that wouldn't stop (so he was sent home) and a bruise on his face, and those shit heads didn't get a suspension...they got a "stern talking to". To add more fuel to my fire in my belly, the girl showed up at school on the last day with NO new hair cut! Big surprise. It's in a mom's blood to get shit out of their kids hair. Clearly this clown doesn't know that. <br />
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It probably wasn't a good idea or rather good timing to send his report card home for my comments after all this bullshit went down. His teacher didn't like my comments about the structured, rigid school system that isn't willing to help kids who learn differently than others. I ended my rant with a quote from Einstein, "Everyone is a genius. But if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its entire life thinking it's stupid." It's a good thing my son who 'can't pay attention' thinks with a more level head than I, because I was ready to immediately pull him from this school. <br />
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So onward and upwards we go. In a matter of a week he'll be returning to said school with a new set of teachers and mentally prepared to tackle what Grade 8 throws at him. I've also given him a little incentive this year. If he can make the Principal's Honour Roll, then I'll throw $500.00 at him as a reward to do with as he likes. So far he seems up to the challenge. We've discussed ways for him to be successful and while he remains a little sceptical, I'm confident if he studies, and brings his homework/projects home to actually complete then he'll prove himself wrong. Fingers crossed for a smoother end to his elementary years and a good transition into high school. Gulp! HIGH SCHOOL. I'm heading off to a corner to cry. June is going to destroy me. Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-11075112855380459312014-08-22T21:31:00.000-04:002014-08-22T21:31:21.093-04:00A Magical Playground<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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What is an ideal gift for a 6 year old little girl full of life, laughter and beans? A little girl who probably has more than she really needs. A little girl whose mom is often at her wits end trying to purge all the stuff her daughter has. So I thought on it. And I thought on it some more....<br />
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A while ago I gave some serious consideration to making her this fantastic thing (I'll keep it a secret, in case I actually get around to doing it) that she could keep forever and pass along to her own daughter or grand-daughter should that day come, but I haven't quite gotten there yet. Perhaps one <strike>day</strike> year soon. It's not really a weekend project. So I needed to come up with another idea. <br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZbh4hHxIUzBTcLCor6ZtEVAYj9R9X_DLHQZ2N2Jp5vIHTR0ith0cYamKpGxChdWZRLHCMFKrkpt8yGCqFnF-mqicFSCrwSieHX9rrTDeLCfCwnvlhPbj8229L42kqi2hhSQsmt_YG20pn/s1600/IMG_2270.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZbh4hHxIUzBTcLCor6ZtEVAYj9R9X_DLHQZ2N2Jp5vIHTR0ith0cYamKpGxChdWZRLHCMFKrkpt8yGCqFnF-mqicFSCrwSieHX9rrTDeLCfCwnvlhPbj8229L42kqi2hhSQsmt_YG20pn/s1600/IMG_2270.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
And a Fairy Garden for inside her house is what I came up with. Little Miss Sawyer-Bean already has an outside, awesome Fairy Garden that her grandfather and mother created for her complete with an actual stream and real, live fish! But what happens when winter comes? When the snow blankets the earth and everything comes to a quiet hush and her Fairy Garden goes into hibernation? Maybe nothing. Maybe since she's just turning six she doesn't even think about it until Spring opens its rested eyes and the world starts to awaken again. Maybe my idea was all for naught, but it certainly was fun creating it. So there's<em> that</em>. <br />
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Here's how I created my little masterpiece, because even if she could care less about it, I think it turned out pretty bad ass. I took a metal pot/tray thingamajig that's made for plants and I filled it with potting soil 3/4 of the way up. Then I planted four succulents. Wanna know why? Because they're called <i>succulents</i>, they are pretty rad, they're little so they fit perfectly AND they barely need watering! Win-win-win-win! Then I covered all the exposed soil with teeny tiny mulch and started adding the Fairy touches. I added a little boy and a little girl fairy. I added a little teeter totter (see saw), and a little black kitty, because everyone should have a black kitty. Then I added a gazing ball, a bird bath, a crystally-like rock, and some little river stones around the plants. Et voila! An indoor Fairy Garden for a 6 year old magical girl. I secretly hope she likes it. <br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LtjxjbkZpNM/U_aBzrqf1aI/AAAAAAAAChg/7Z6GlC1VLh0/s1600/IMG_2271.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LtjxjbkZpNM/U_aBzrqf1aI/AAAAAAAAChg/7Z6GlC1VLh0/s1600/IMG_2271.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Taking a break from playing on the see-saw.<br />
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<br />Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-51653293336617791112014-08-22T10:28:00.001-04:002014-08-22T10:28:47.311-04:00One Last Dance<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NUlSEgVrV6k/U_dSSKvzJ5I/AAAAAAAACiI/-9AfUtAKIb4/s1600/IMG_2295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NUlSEgVrV6k/U_dSSKvzJ5I/AAAAAAAACiI/-9AfUtAKIb4/s1600/IMG_2295.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
The other day Eric and I were talking, and it occurred to me that I'm not aware off the <i>official</i> last time I picked either of my boys up. I mean <i>physically</i> picked them up (I pick Gage up from work far more often than I'd like). You know though, to comfort them, for a hug, to dance... Did I know it would be my last time when I picked them up that final day? I doubt it or I would have emblazoned it into my mind. I would have made some sort of note of it. I probably would have eaten far too many things I shouldn't have eaten to help stifle the sad, empty longing of just another thing I have to let go of. <br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NUlSEgVrV6k/U_dSSKvzJ5I/AAAAAAAACiI/-9AfUtAKIb4/s1600/IMG_2295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NUlSEgVrV6k/U_dSSKvzJ5I/AAAAAAAACiI/-9AfUtAKIb4/s1600/IMG_2295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"> </a>How did the years slip through my fingers? How did I already run out of chances to pick them up for a hug? Just typing this out makes me melancholy and I find myself missing those moments when I didn't even realize I'd <i>been</i> missing them. We have all heard the cliché about it how quickly the time of babies and toddlers passes, but I never dreamed it would whip by this fast. I look back on the past 17+ years after becoming a mother and so much has happened. So much has changed, however the one consistency was my boys. But my how they themselves have changed and I've not been <i>acutely</i> aware. <br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y5t6UK1_uwU/U_dS2jr0daI/AAAAAAAACiQ/Ybjt5w_xFHQ/s1600/IMG_2284.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y5t6UK1_uwU/U_dS2jr0daI/AAAAAAAACiQ/Ybjt5w_xFHQ/s1600/IMG_2284.JPG" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
I don't have many regrets when it comes to how I've parented them. Right or wrong in other people's eyes, they are turning out just fine. They are becoming people I not only love, but actually like! That being said, I kind of regret taking their years with me for granted. Is that the right word? I'm not so sure. I just figured there were so many more years ahead of us. Me and them. Them needing me. <i>Me</i> secretly needing <i>them</i>. As Gage heads into Grade 12 this year I can't help but wonder if I have only this short school year left before he moves out. Out of my house. Out of my fold. My stomach is already in knots merely thinking about it. Will he miss me like I'll miss him? Gah, so many feelings! <br />
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It makes my heart hurt to now be consciously aware that in all probability the next time someone needs to be physically carried, our roles will likely be reversed. I hope my boys will remember all those times I carried them. </div>
Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-91767704216027700612014-08-05T02:45:00.001-04:002014-08-05T09:42:46.790-04:00Who's Driving My Car?Sometimes when I'm going about the routine, mundane, everyday stuff like driving home I change up my route at the very last minute. I don't have obvious plans in my head to alter my route, sometimes I'm just sitting at a red light when the urge to turn left comes over me, rather than going straight.<br />
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But then once I make the turn a ridiculous thought pops into head almost immediately. Did I just turn into my pending death? Like is a truck going to come around this bend and take me out, head on, when I wasn't even <i>supposed</i> to be on this road?? OR did I just evade my pending death? Like had I gone straight would someone have crossed the centre line and crashed into me?? These are the things I think about all the way until I turn my car into my driveway. </div>
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I think these things, yet I can't resist the urge when it strikes me. Sometimes it's so strong I even wait for all the cars in the left lane to go (thus holding up traffic in my lane) so I can make that non scheduled turn. So who's driving my car? Me or my destiny? Does anyone else have these kinds of thoughts, or just me? What about these strange, unexplained last minute decisions? Anyone have those? Maybe I'm spending too much time around death...</div>
Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-23684363142767916972014-07-14T18:03:00.001-04:002014-07-14T18:03:31.130-04:00How To Live a Happier and Rewarding LifeToday was the first day of my in 'school' training for my volunteer position with Niagara Victim Services. It was a really good and educational day. Our speaker for the afternoon was exceptional. I learned so much in the three hours she spoke; much of it is also applicable to my life in funeral services. I feel like I took away a lot of helpful information to make me a better funeral director, a better crisis responder and a better <i>person </i>overall. But the particular <strike>advice</strike> wisdom I want to share with you all that I was shown today actually came from an old United Way video called <b>Suggestions on How to Live a Happier and Rewarding Life</b>. <br />
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These suggestions are so simple, but often overlooked or out right ignored by many. It's unfortunate that some people take life so seriously and in the process miss the important things. Basically it should come down to two simple words. A short but powerful sentence. Be nice. <br />
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How to Live a Happier and Rewarding Life:<br /><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Take time to smell the roses.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Take a nap on Sunday afternoon.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Drink 8 glasses of water a day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Never deprive someone of hope. It might</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> be all they have.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Be thankful for every meal. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Don't be afraid to say "I'm sorry."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Don't take good health for granted.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Don't interrupt.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Don't tailgate.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Improve your performance by improving your attitude.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Wave at children on the school bus.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Listen to your children.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Leave everything a little better than you found it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Leave the toilet seat in the down position.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Keep it simple.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Keep good company.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Keep your promise.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Be kinder than necessary.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Take good care of those you love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Make it a habit to do nice things for people who will never find out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Wear outrageous underwear under the most formal business attire.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Vote.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Judge your success by the degree that you are enjoying peace, health and love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Be a good loser.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Be a good winner.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Be romantic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Live so that when your children think of fairness, caring and integrity, they think of you.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Enjoy real maple syrup.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">Never refuse home made brownies.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Never give anyone a fruitcake.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Remember other people's birthdays.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Sing in the shower.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Don't nag.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Don't gossip.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Don't expect money to bring you happiness.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Be forgiving of yourself and others.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Never give up on anyone. Miracles happen every day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Say thank you a lot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Say please a lot.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Take your dog to obedience school. You'll both learn a lot.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Slow dance.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Don't rain on other people's parades.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Don't postpone joy.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Stop blaming others. Take responsibility for every area of your life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Take care of your reputation. It's your most valuable asset.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Count your blessings.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Call your mother.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Do more than is expected.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Be there when people need you. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Be someone's hero.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">Support your community.</span></div>
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<br />Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-19614158796816856572014-06-30T12:59:00.001-04:002014-06-30T12:59:58.997-04:00Small TriumphsWell it's the end of another school year. I know I'll be kicking myself in a months time, but THANK GOD. I swear this has been the most trying year I've experienced with my children to date. I'm not sure which of us is more relieved that it's over, Roan or me! <br />
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Last summer it was agreed upon by Eric, myself and Roan that we'd allow him to go off his meds for ADD during the summer break. He didn't like the roller coaster feeling the pills gave him (time release meds tend to do that) and they made him feel...'meh'; just not like his usual fun self. He was suffering from some 'hallucinations' as well which were a little frightening to me. So the decision was fairly simple. We'd try him without the assistance and see how he fared. During the summer it was tolerable but became increasingly frustrating. Life in the house wasn't that wonderful for him. We were constantly on him for "forgetting"...EVERYTHING. We felt like all we were doing was yelling or lecturing. He was really vocal about his disdain for going back on his meds for school, so we gave him a window of time to prove to us and his teachers that he could do it. Well come December it was crystal clear that he was really struggling to stay focused and get his work done accordingly. His progress, if nothing changed quickly, was going to hinder his chances of moving into Grade 8 at the end of the year. GULP. <br />
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Meetings with the teachers, counselors, the principal, Roan, and us were held and they were <em>strongly</em> pushing for him to go back on some form of medication (of course they were). We were pushing back with the request for the teachers to think outside their idea of the perfect student and make some concessions that were geared to his known, and mutually agreed upon, strengths. To be frank, they won, we lost. Because I can't be at the school day in and day out to ensure they held up their end of the deal we had a discussion with his Doctor about new medication options and she presented us with a newly approved drug. A new pill that isn't time released but a slow release and over time would be 'even' across the board. He has no ups and downs with it, and the side effects are minimal. We gave it a go and he has really taken to it. He doesn't complain about taking his pill, he doesn't bitch about side effects (one of them is drowsiness and since he's always had issues with sleeping, we just give him his pill at night), we see HUGE changes at home and have definitely seen changes at school. <br />
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To be honest, we're not entirely sure if the leaps and bounds of changes we've seen in Roan is as a result of the medication or just maturity. Hopefully a combination of both, but we're going to maintain it through the summer so he can get a proper start on Grade 8 in September (because YES he did make enough strides to get there). He is an amazing kid and life for him (and us) has been so much kinder and pleasant since he started this particular prescription. <br />
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The decision to medicate your child for any illness can be extremely difficult. So many opinions of others (most NOT requested) are hurled at you. But the decision is your family's and it's private. You are the ones that deal with the effects of the disorder whether on medication or not. You are the ones that live with it daily so the decision is yours and your child's. As a parent, whatever I can do to make life not SO difficult for my kid is one of my number one goals. Watching him unnecessarily struggle isn't in my cards. So we did our part, we conceded and it paid off, but as for the school??? Well I've got my issues with them. That's an entirely different post. Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-40541233785533076122014-06-29T11:40:00.001-04:002014-06-29T11:40:43.635-04:00A Moment of NostalgiaAs a quick follow up to my Realities of Time Travel post I needed to show you a picture of the house I grew up in that I took yesterday while out garage sailing. The house attached to mine was having a yard sale so I couldn't pass up the opportunity to snap a quick picture. <br /><br />While I remember being little, I don't remember actually <i>physically</i> being little. Does that make sense? I mean when I picture myself as a kid, I picture me at this height (5'8"). Ridiculous I know. So when I was out of my car up close and personal with my old front lawn I was shocked at how <i>little</i> it actually was (like the size of a large car) but more importantly how <i>little</i> the hill in the yard was. I remember sitting on that hill consciously aware it was a hill (it clearly really isn't) and my little legs didn't even make it to the side walk! I was obviously too cool for this 'hill' when I became a teenager and actually was this current height of mine or I'd have figured this out a long time ago! <br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-1uxet8W_woY/U7Ay081_MzI/AAAAAAAAChE/mPNSvh9JiOc/s1600/old+house.jpg" height="288" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ya, that's the crazy hill down in the right hand corner.</td></tr>
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Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-3366752916984171962014-06-29T11:30:00.002-04:002014-06-29T11:30:34.050-04:00The Realities of Time Travel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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We've been doing a bunch of work around the house these past few months. Some big stuff, some small stuff. While Eric was working in the laundry/mud room he started to pull off all the trim around the doors and window and found a little, nostalgic, hidden treasure behind part of it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmw3RwPhGevcZHIOO_BHnLGM5hH9mhJB56AujlVs-vvvH-_r6L9A8YetlE3nGiU8Z0tScQ_JICcK7Jxt3j6L-yivWSlCRwvNf61L5SkSP8T0qPXVKgWW7leebm5IYdCTUtCdDbfQhT-v1I/s1600/s0020675_sc7.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmw3RwPhGevcZHIOO_BHnLGM5hH9mhJB56AujlVs-vvvH-_r6L9A8YetlE3nGiU8Z0tScQ_JICcK7Jxt3j6L-yivWSlCRwvNf61L5SkSP8T0qPXVKgWW7leebm5IYdCTUtCdDbfQhT-v1I/s1600/s0020675_sc7.jpeg" height="200" width="200" /></a></div>
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When I was little my first 'job' was a paper route for the Niagara Falls Review (Evening Review?). I'm not entirely sure if the name had already changed at that point... and part of my job was to collect money weekly from the subscribers. They don't even do that any more now that there is direct payments from your bank account (which totally sucks for the carriers now because no collecting = no tips). But I remember having to provide 'punch' cards to each house and each week when they paid I would have to punch a hole through the appropriate date (yeah I had to carry one of those single hole punchers around with me.<br />
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But even <i>before that </i>the carrier used to have to rip off a tab with the date and provide it to the subscriber so they had proof they paid (Who remembers <i>that</i>?) A receipt if you will. And look what we found! It's real old and tiny and yet it instantly brought me back to the earlier days when the only stress I had was delivering my newspapers in the rain, at dusk (during the winter season) and big scary dogs who didn't like their paper carrier. It's little stuff like this that teach us the realities of what time travel is.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NRklVI9g0BM/U7AuEzPrGiI/AAAAAAAACg0/Nv-URkym9hk/s1600/Evening+Review.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-NRklVI9g0BM/U7AuEzPrGiI/AAAAAAAACg0/Nv-URkym9hk/s1600/Evening+Review.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1956! That's crazy. </td></tr>
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<br />So my house is at least 58 years old. That explains so much. Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-78171751021562985972014-06-28T13:38:00.002-04:002014-06-28T21:09:45.681-04:00Garage Sale EtiquetteToday while we were out sailing the sea of garages it occurred to me that there should be some sort of etiquette to garage sales; for both the hosts and the seekers (there probably is, I've just never looked it up). So while we cruised the neighbourhoods we took notes. Here's what we came up with. And, by all means if I have inadvertently over looked a prime point, please post it in the comments section. All advice is welcome! In no particular order of importance we were able to come up with the following tips:<br />
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<li>Unless your garage sale if of EPIC proportions, don`t bother to use the adjectives: HUGE, MASSIVE, or ENORMOUS on your signs. You are only setting your customers up for monumental disappointment and when a buyer is disappointed they are less likely to purchase anything from you. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7UiLpOKe_tY/U673FxCgs9I/AAAAAAAACfQ/akJ3ejeHSHU/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7UiLpOKe_tY/U673FxCgs9I/AAAAAAAACfQ/akJ3ejeHSHU/s1600/images.jpg" height="200" width="153" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not likely.</td></tr>
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<li>Do always put prices on your products. I know it's time consuming on an already lame way to spend your Saturday but I have NEVER purchased an item from a sale where there hasn't been a starting price listed for me. I'm not kidding. I won't even bother asking. Doesn't matter how badly I might want the item. </li>
<li>If you use heart shaped stickers, I'm even more likely to want to buy from you. </li>
<li>Do not leave your pre-teen children in charge of running your sale. I'll be frank, I won't even pull my car over. I just can't take purchasing stuff from a 8 year old seriously. Unless it's lemonade. Even then I probably still won't. I'm douchey like that. </li>
<li>If you are the host, do not ever, EVER talk politics or religion loud enough for your customers to hear you. And absolutely do not ever speak those subjects <b>to </b>your actual customers. If I wanted to hear banter about that shit on a Saturday, I'd just stay at home, save my money and wait for the Jehovah Witnesses to come knocking. </li>
<li>Please clean off your goods! No one wants to buy dust. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlUSXxl5YOvs43uNbjYRt9l50u37V9UY6SV1Lo8qJbVfa8HQ4-FK-NzSRgvvy3JmB3KVHiIhJ3iX-cNtis2erBbDvaSb-VlGT-woHTiyDekTY18X1hw-9bwqIdNOQMZ4yHZ8Le8MrxIt5u/s1600/dust.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlUSXxl5YOvs43uNbjYRt9l50u37V9UY6SV1Lo8qJbVfa8HQ4-FK-NzSRgvvy3JmB3KVHiIhJ3iX-cNtis2erBbDvaSb-VlGT-woHTiyDekTY18X1hw-9bwqIdNOQMZ4yHZ8Le8MrxIt5u/s1600/dust.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yuck, right??</td></tr>
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</li>
<li>Make sure when you put your signs up you ensure they are secure. The wind wrecks havoc on Bristol board which in turn wrecks havoc on the number of people that are aware you are even having a sale. </li>
<li>Your signs should also be facing traffic so the driver does not have to slow down to a stop to read it from the side passenger window. </li>
<li>Be willing to negotiate. Understand that the minute someone buys more than one item from you they are immediately going to try to negotiate with you. Don't be a tool. It's a garage sale not a department store. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fvz1cMX3vO0/U673SO6y7JI/AAAAAAAACfc/wafu9oHneng/s1600/garage-sale.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Fvz1cMX3vO0/U673SO6y7JI/AAAAAAAACfc/wafu9oHneng/s1600/garage-sale.jpg" height="133" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There is a reason these are pre-printed with cheap prices...</td></tr>
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<li>Be knowledgeable of what typical prices are for a garage sale (if you aren't, let me fill you in...CHEAP). No one cares if it's an import from Japan or China. Frankly, damn near everything we buy from a store <i>new</i> is an import from 'China'. That doesn't make it worth more. </li>
<li>Keep the personal items (false eye lashes, used make up, half used toiletries, etc.) off the tables. I cannot fathom that anyone is interested in that crap. </li>
<li>Make sure you have money (small bills and change is best) with you if you are sailing the seas of garages. That one time you don't, you'll find exactly what you were looking for. And then when you make the decision to run to the bank to get some, someone comes along behind you and scoops it up. (True story, happened to me today. UGH)</li>
<li>Don't have a garage sale if you only have baby stuff for sale. Or at the <i>very</i> least advertise that you only have baby stuff for sale. Lame. </li>
<li>Sell large ticket items on Craig's List or Kijiji. A garage sale is no place for an $80+ item. </li>
<li> Remove your damn signs when the sale is over. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisOiLIk8YyeFsnpUoLX8brYV6tR4Y_0DmhR6dO1nC9v4Gq4xCEX-7SNEa4bZmPnH5yzACJfu1_GDYI3QcA6lWXNdtF5Xtw5QAxZGMdBctY3j04V5L-C5KwXjnudQFTXjtaTUvvQkVDNE8a/s1600/Garage-Sale-Signs.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisOiLIk8YyeFsnpUoLX8brYV6tR4Y_0DmhR6dO1nC9v4Gq4xCEX-7SNEa4bZmPnH5yzACJfu1_GDYI3QcA6lWXNdtF5Xtw5QAxZGMdBctY3j04V5L-C5KwXjnudQFTXjtaTUvvQkVDNE8a/s1600/Garage-Sale-Signs.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This looks like crap, and is confusing.</td></tr>
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<li>Get your neighbours in on the sale and then and only then can you advertise HUGE, ENORMOUS, or MASSIVE. </li>
<li>No need to write your home address on your neon signs. The street name and an arrow will suffice. Pretty sure I can pick out the house with all the crap sitting in the drive way. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EumvoUWlpPk/U673_XKWaSI/AAAAAAAACfk/0ZKnPyd0gVI/s1600/Garage-Sales-in-Spring-Texas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EumvoUWlpPk/U673_XKWaSI/AAAAAAAACfk/0ZKnPyd0gVI/s1600/Garage-Sales-in-Spring-Texas.jpg" height="155" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Really, keep it simple and easy.</td></tr>
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</li>
<li>Always have a <b>free</b> table. People like free, and they are more inclined to buy something from you if they take something off the 'free table'. </li>
<li>Have more than two scraggly tables of stuff for sale. That's not a garage or yard sale. It's not worth getting out of my car for. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RnLlrLVa1vI/U675U5ITUII/AAAAAAAACf0/f4XizM1TtMY/s1600/good+garage+sale+set+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-RnLlrLVa1vI/U675U5ITUII/AAAAAAAACf0/f4XizM1TtMY/s1600/good+garage+sale+set+up.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good set up.</td></tr>
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</li>
<li>Go out sailing early. The best stuff is gone by 10 o'clock. Guaranteed.</li>
<li>Don't be pushy with your customers. Offer an answer when asked, but don't be all up in my grill. If it's so damn wonderful why the hell are you getting rid of it?? <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy6ppMe2fOP-ncium_IGFCWaI28YpKZSYlp9XliQU9cZn5h3Cp-5T7tIEQlvMb5TyYhE0YEY_xXraYb8FvNA66jVLMek59vxVCDCOxJc26Brb4OO51F_A0IcHvgg-RzpeGmK3X8xqTDlpP/s1600/garage-sale-garbage-cartoon-769457.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy6ppMe2fOP-ncium_IGFCWaI28YpKZSYlp9XliQU9cZn5h3Cp-5T7tIEQlvMb5TyYhE0YEY_xXraYb8FvNA66jVLMek59vxVCDCOxJc26Brb4OO51F_A0IcHvgg-RzpeGmK3X8xqTDlpP/s1600/garage-sale-garbage-cartoon-769457.jpg" height="200" width="198" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Uh huh...</td></tr>
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<li>Know when to negotiate and do it, but if the price is lower than what you were mentally prepared to spend anyway, don't be a dick. Just pay it. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So hopefully some of these tips make having a garage sale or going to a garage sale easier and more pleasing. Again, if I've missed something that's critical, please post it in the comments section for all of us to learn from! I've scored some pretty amazing stuff at garage sales, so there is definitely something to them. I've even decorated an entire room in my house solely from stuff I've found at these sales. It's pretty damn amazing and I brag a lot about its awesomeness. <br />
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Hoist those sails and happy travels! May you find a hidden treasure. </div>
Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-7092413447005582772014-05-31T18:26:00.001-04:002014-05-31T18:26:11.523-04:00CommunityThe time has come! I can make my teeny little announcement that probably isn't important to any one but me, but so be it. I've been evasive about what I've been up to, but I didn't want to say anything until I was in a position to say something. Now I can... <br /><br />I applied for a volunteer position last month with the Niagara Victim Services. As stated this is a volunteer position that I want to do over and above my full time job as a funeral director. At this point in my life this is something I'm yearning to do for my own personal growth. This has nothing to do with the well being of my family or my mortgage payments or life style. This has to do solely with me. Gage is finding it hard to understand why I would want to work for free but I'm hoping one day when he's older, he'll <i>get it</i>. <br /><br />Since my interview, reference check and police background check I've now been invited to be part of the team here in Niagara. Now I'll have about 40 hours of e-learning and about 40 hours of in-class training ahead of me before I start this journey. I'm genuinely excited to take on this new challenge and learn new skills. I believe this position can help me be a better funeral director <i>and</i> person and I believe the skills I already have will help me in this new role. <br /><br />
The goal of victim services is to assist emergency personnel in providing short-term emotional support and practical assistance to victims of crime, tragic circumstance and disaster.<br />
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I know it sounds cliché, but I'm really looking forward to helping those that need it, however short my period in their life will be, and growing as a person. Thanks for all your positive vibes and well wishes. Here's to new beginnings!Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-64928458582742924472014-05-23T22:11:00.000-04:002014-05-23T22:11:23.904-04:00Technology...A Love/Hate RelationshipIt's 2014, we have modern technology literally at our fingertips. There is so much controversy over how much time we, has a race, spend with our faces in our phones. We criticize each other with how often we sustain our relationships via social media, texting and emails rather than having actual conversations face to face any more. I laugh at how often Eric and I will be sitting beside each other on our lap tops or phones. We still converse in person, we haven't gotten to the point where we actually find ourselves texting each other...yet. Guilty. In fact, I'm doubly guilty.<br />
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First, before I got my own smart phone, I was guilty of <i>judging <i></i></i>all those people who constantly had their face in their phone. Yep, guilty as charged. But NOW? Now I'm guilty of focusing too much on the micro computer in my purse. I do try to consciously put it down, but it silently <i>speaks</i> to me, it <i>calls </i>my name. It's hard not to pick it up when there's a lull in the conversation. It's so easy to grab it when there is a discussion happening and something is up for debate. I mean, come on, Google is right at our fingertips! I definitely see both sides of the coin with regards to this subject.<br />
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In the grand scheme of things I'm very grateful I didn't have to endure high school in the time of Facebook or Twitter. But lately, I'm finding myself more and more envious of this new generation. I have attempted to go through photos in hopes of capturing some long lost pictures of my youth, most importantly my teenage years, but I'm continuously coming up with very few pictures. I love when I get a notification on Facebook that I've been tagged in a photo and when I click on it, it's an oldie! The best ones are the photos I didn't even know existed. I love reliving those moments. Unfortunately, photos and videos during my youth weren't as mainstream as they are now. And the reason they are so mainstream now is because technology has made it so much easier for us to snap random photos or take quick little videos. There's no more lugging around a huge camera or camcorder to try to capture candid moments. Just like those cute little shampoo bottles, these too have been put into convenient little packages. <br />
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So just last week Roan mentioned to me that he couldn't remember what my dad's voice sounded like any more - one of the biggest worries I've struggled with after his passing. I remember clearly still (thank goodness) some of his more frequent sayings but after giving it some real thought last week, I had to come to the realization that I too was struggling to remember what he sounded like overall. I was comforted to know, after speaking with my sister and sister in law, that they too have had these fears and they too have struggled with remembering clearly. So I racked my brain to try to ascertain if we had any video recordings with my father speaking. And sadly, we really didn't. I reached out to my cousin as I knew that my dad had co-emcee'd her wedding a few years ago and inquired if she had in fact had a video of her special day. With great relief she informed me that she did have about half of her reception caught on tape before the battery was drained. So I asked for a huge favour, a favour for our family really. I asked her to forward me a copy so I could hear my dad's voice again. And she obliged - she came through with bells on. She even edited it all together so it was only my dad's words and we didn't have to endure half of her wedding reception (Thanks lady, I appreciated that! haha). <br />
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She sent it to me on Wednesday night just before midnight. The anticipation after reading her subject line "Uncle Kit video - part 1" or something along those lines immediately sent waves of emotion coursing through me. I was overwhelmed with an energy of excited sadness (is that a thing?) that overcame me immediately. I felt my eyes bursting over with water, my lungs struggling to take in air, and my throat getting that clenched feeling. I couldn't get the stinkin' video to open fast enough. And then there is was...<br />
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There <b><i>he </i></b>was. Was that his actual voice? Why do I remember it differently? Is it only because he was talking into a microphone and the quality of the video wasn't great? And then the more I listened and watched him talk, the more his mannerisms began to stand out and there he was. Oh my gosh, music to my ears. It didn't matter what he was actually saying. It was just so lovely to hear his voice, his tone, his lame jokes. Just over three minutes of something so silly that means the world to me. How I wish we had more minutes. How I wish the technology we experience today was around just a little bit sooner. I wish I'd jumped on the smart phone bandwagon as soon as they came out. I likely would have captured far more minutes of his voice. <br />
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So while I know we are fighting an uphill battle with the abuse of modern technology, I beg of you all....capture your loved ones doing what they love to do the most. We all hear the warnings to take more photos, but taking more video is essential as well. Capture your children all through the years even doing something as simple as playing. Catch your parents on video telling a story. You won't regret those particular overuses of your technology. I can assure you. Modern technology...it's a love/hate relationship. Find the good things about it. Capture those voices. <br />
<br />Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2390992967020892932.post-62325407461481255402014-05-21T09:27:00.001-04:002014-05-21T09:33:40.916-04:00Squeeee!!!!So a year or so ago, much to Eric's chagrin, I donated to what I believe was a VERY worthwhile cause. I donated via Kickstarter to the much talked about, anticipated (yet criticized) new project from Zach Braff. I mean for a girl who loves, loves, LOVES Garden State how could I not support his follow up project? <br />
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I'll be honest when I first read about his idea for the movie I was left wondering if I was going to be disappointed because it sounded nothing like Garden State (and well...I just loved that movie so much...). But the other day they sent us backers the trailer before it was released and then they released it to the world! Ya'll are so lucky. <br />
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I watched the trailer (like 50 times) and I instantly had that feeling wash over me like I did watching the trailer for Garden State. I'm not disappointed. I'm super excited for this movie (Eric (and Rich) is probably reading this and rolling his eyes at me). Zach has an insane ability for picking the best sound tracks to his productions (including Scrubs). I swear the music can make or break a movie. <br />
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After watching the movie, the front man for the Shins, James Mercer, was so moved he penned an entirely original piece of music just for Wish I Was Here. It's the second song in the trailer. Go on, watch it and give it a listen. Amazing. And Zach even got my name right! ;) <br />
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Goosebumps! <br/>
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Missy Aggravationhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12071956932243655457noreply@blogger.com1