Lawn Ornaments

Once upon a time there was a magical enchanted land, filled with trees and wildlife and a young family who called this land their home.

Their yard seemed endless and huge. 20 acres, which isn't huge but so much bigger than the postage stamped size balcony they had in the city.

 There was a small dog who made the prettiest lawn ornament, always watching over his owner, always within reach of an ear scratch and a belly rub.

There was space for the little kids to play, the dog to run, the rabbits to hop. 

Soon the yard filled up with wildlife. Bambi often came to munch on the lawn.

A lodge full of beavers moved in, mowing down trees and making trails.

The moose came to eat all the shrubs and flowers the yard owners had so thoughtfully planted.

There was space for them all. Come one, come all, the crazy yard owners whispered, inviting the wildlife to frolic and play.

There was so much room that one day, one of the yard owners decided to build a zeppelin hangar. 

The yard seemed smaller. The space not as vast.

Then the little dog who made the prettiest lawn ornament passed away and the other yard owner decided there was space to fill.

So she adopted a new dog, who is the prettiest big lawn ornament she ever could want, who watches over his owner, always within reach of an ear scratch and a belly rub.

But this new dog, with this new barn, they took up more space than the yard owners had imagined.

With the little kids now grown into big kids and all the wildlife added into the space, the yard was starting to feel a little small.

20 acres can only hold so much.

But the yard owners told themselves, "It's all good. Our space is filled with love." And animal crap. But they ignored that and focused on the love and how the tightness of it all felt like a giant hug of love and not a poop-filled cramp.

Then he wandered in.

An even BIGGER lawn ornament.

He pooped on her lawn. Here, there, everywhere.

Suddenly there is no space for anyone. 

The straw that broke the lawn owner's back turned out to be a stray horse who has no owner. 

Now the yard owner twitches and waits for kids to pick up poop, dogs to shrink, wildlife to hide and the horse to found. 

I don't care what the husband says.

We're gonna need a bigger yard.

And a shovel for all the poop.

*The horse has been taken care of. Take care of your horses, people. Don't let them poop on other people's lawns. It's just weird.*

Community

I wore a dress this weekend. I rarely wear dresses. Dresses, in my world, are reserved for funerals and the odd wedding. Of course, there are the muumuus I often wear in the summer while my husband mutters about how he never thought he'd be married to Mrs. Roper, but I digress.

I do love a good muumuu though. The great thing about a muumuu is you never need to shave your legs. 

Basically, I just wrote 71 words to tell y'all I shaved my legs this weekend, voluntarily. 

Blogging done right.

I shaved my legs and wore a dress and I even applied some eye shadow because I was nominated for an award at The Edmonton New Media awards. Otherwise known as The Yeggies.

My eye shadow with the inimitable Kikki Planet.

I didn't really know what to expect, as I've never actually attended an award ceremony for anyone over the age of 17, but I figured a good place to start would be to pretend I don't weave my online words while sitting in alone in my kitchen, with my hair uncombed while wearing a ripped and stained tank top, no bra and my husband's boxer shorts. Which I do. Often. Like perhaps RIGHT THIS VERY MOMENT.

It turns out shaving my legs was the right call to make. 

The show was lovely, the host funny, the organizer rock stars. The award nominees and winners were all truly talented people who each showcased the spirit and passion which makes Edmonton and area so very special. Cliched or not, it really was an honor just to be nominated.

I sat in that audience, surrounded by friends I'd made over the years, through my blog and twitter and Facebook and I smiled at people I'd just been introduced to and I marveled at how very far I've come in the seven years since I went online for the very first time.

How I stumbled into a community that I never knew existed when all I was really looking for was a way to find myself and survive the death of my son. Every online interaction I've made over the years has been like finding one piece of a new puzzle I've needed to put together to make myself whole, and for a brief shining moment on a Saturday night, my online community walked out of the mists of the Ethernet and surrounded me in the flesh.

I felt grateful and amazed to be part of such a vibrant community. 

Thank you Natasha, for making me cry in public, once more.

Winning an award and being recognized by your peers is always a lovely feeling. Absolutely. But that night, it wasn't about the award for me. It was about how I was a broken woman on the edge of a precipice, lost and alone, and found myself in front of a crowd of people who, through clicks, comments and virtual hugs, propped me up when I was at my weakest and held my hand until I could breathe on my own. 

It was about being part of a community that inspires me to try harder and be better and constantly reminds me what is important in life and what is not. 

It's about being something other than the reflection of the broken woman I see when I look in the mirror. 

I didn't know what to say at that moment, so I just said thanks.  

They like me! They really like me!

But I meant it. Thank you for this honor and thank you for all the support over the years, both those in the Edmonton community, my hometown, and those around the world. It means a lot.

I'm really happy to be part of this community, both offline and in person.

I'm really glad I shaved my legs for you.

A special thanks to the Yeggies organizing committee, the sponsors and most especially, Jen Banks for being my date on top of all your other duties. 

Bingo!

I have to go pants shopping today. There are few things worse than having to go shopping for pants. In public. With mirrors. Bathing suit shopping. Getting a Brazilian wax. Trying to buy life insurance. Watching your child being held down for a blood draw. Trying to get fifteen kids to stand still to pose for a cousins' portrait.

Okay, fine. There are many things worse than pants shopping and yet, today, it is the worst. thing. ever. Don't start on me about getting some perspective. I have all the perspective I need. Starting with that pasty white muffin top that hangs over the edge of my pants and ending with the frayed bottoms of my jeans that my dog keeps tugging on. 

So pants shopping it is. Let the size games begin. It's like an expensive game of Bingo, only without the ink dobbers and the old lady winner will be me jumping around yelling 'Bingo!' when I finally find a pair that makes my bum look it belongs to a 20 year old stripper who can bounce a quarter off it.

It's good to have goals and delusions.

Here is to a new weekend where the wheels don't fall off any chairs, doors are held open when needed and the principal finally emails me before I die from curiosity. (My children? They're feigning innocence. I SMELL TROUBLE.)

May you find joy in the small snapshots of your life this weekend. And may your pants fit exactly as you want them to.

***

My little theatre geek. Congratulations to Ken and her fellow cast members (including my niece) for winning Best Ensemble Cast in the zones festival.

May there be no creepy eyeless doll, waiting to suck out your soul, hiding in any of your cabinets. Or your mother's.

Don't make eye contact with any shelves of doll heads because they'll be STARING BACK AT YOU. (Weirdness runs in the family.)

Brother love.

What happens with biology homework when assigned to a couple of nerds. Star Wars the Immune Response Episode is born. (Also, siblings! Cooperating! Voluntarily working towards a common goal! Learning! Embracing their inner geek! THIS IS THE POSTER OF PARENTHOOD DONE RIGHT.)

Putting our heads together. Puppy love is the best love.

Have a great weekend everyone!