Owen refused to put his hat on this morning.

It was snowing hard, so I insisted, which upset him.

When I asked him WHY he suddenly didn’t want to wear his hat, which he loves, he answered:

“Because “hate” starts with “hat”, Mommy, and hate makes people sad.”

I have no idea how to argue with this.

Daddy’s response (moved to the front page, because it made salsa come out of 

the_songbird

 ‘s nose) was:

“Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hat. Hat leads to suffering….”

And at quarter to ten on Saturday morning, my three year old just ran past me singing “Gold toy trains and little tow trucks…”

You other Christmas giggle is below. Scotty, especially, should appreciate the absurdity of it.

http://isitchristmas.com/

1/2 oz Jack Daniel’s® Tennessee whiskey
1/2 oz amaretto almond liqueur
1/2 oz Bailey’s® Irish cream

Ok, so we took a chance and replaced the slab of granite mattress that we’ve been sleeping on for the last then years last month. I say took a chance, because it was expensive, and due to the most recent flare of the auto-immune condition I’m always struggling with, I’m off work again on medical leave. (The insurance company never recorded my return to work last year, and there was some question as to whether or not I was covered, resulting in a 6 week delay in benefits, but that’s another story) It was necessary, because not being able to stand the touch of your own bed when you’re sick isn’t exactly conducive to recovery. I was glad to see it go, even though it’s going to take me until February to pay for.

Apparently the old mattress must have said something to the washing machine on the way out the door, because it quit this weekend. All of my cars and major appliances conspire to break down together, usually when money is tight. We live in a cozy little rented townhouse. The dryer is part of the rental, and therefore not my problem. Naturally, it’s working just fine. However, due to their habit of breaking frequently, tenants are on their own to provide and maintain a washing machine.

We did well. My father, a cross between Red Green and Mac Guyver, found an ancient model at the re-use center and bought it for $25.00. Then he added another $20.00 worth of new pipes and bits, and for six years, I’ve had a working washing machine that was all but free.

Good deal!

Naturally, when it quit, my first impulse was to call MacDad, and ask him if he could work his magic. Dad did his best, but I’m afraid we got a little more Red Green than Mac Guyver this time, and now my washing machine is possessed. The settings on the dial bear no resemblance to what it will actually do. Going to the normal “fill” setting causes it to spin like mad while empty, it has lost the “warm” cycle altogether, and now doesn’t stop at all. Ever. “Delicate” causes it to vomit scalding hot water all over the dryer, and “off” causes it to begin filling all over again. If you leave it unattended, it will wash, (Very hot. Very, very, very hot)rinse, spin and repeat forever, until the hot water tank is totally empty. Kind of a roll the dice, take your chances kind of deal. So today ended with me wringing the water out of the cleanest dark load in the history of laundry, ever, because the spin cycle had gone AWOL.

So now we’re combing Craigslist and the classifieds looking for a new, old washing machine.

Sigh.

Only 250 trick or treaters down from 320 last year.

Quiet year.

Owen made out like a bandit.

Has just informed me that it isn’t bedtime in Vancouver yet.

I have no idea who would have shared this tidbit with my preschooler, but if I find out, heads will roll.

Owen began by dressing himself today.

Bob the Builder Y-fronts and a blue balaclava.

Then announced he was “ready to go.”

We had a long talk about dress codes in public places.

Leaving the bar of dark chocolate with crushed coffee beans out where the preschooler could reach it.

Sweet Hubby is at work until 5.

It’s going to be a long day.

What a weekend!

As you are aware, the band and I were in Maryland this past weekend, performing at the Maryland Renaissance Festival.  This is the parent festival of our beautiful, but now defunct little Ontario Renaissance Festival.  My bandmate, Les, put it very well.  Visiting Maryland isn’t quite like going home.  Even though we’ve been several time now, the visits have been too few and too far between for quite that level of familiarity.  It’s more like visiting your older, cooler sister. 

I first visited Maryland after our inaugural year in Ontario in 1996.  It was the first long car trip with the nice guy that I had met at our faire, (we’ve been married 9.5 years now) and my first experience with an established faire.  I was utterly charmed by the entire “village” and in complete awe of established acts like the Pyrates Royale, who I have been a big fan of ever since.  They all seemed so professional compared to us.  It was a little daunting at the time.  Now, 12 years later, it’s still a thrill to be performing on the same stages as some of these acts, for the same fans, and, according the the feedback we got from both acts and fans alike, holding our own.  The same bands that both impressed and intimidated the heck out of me back then were nothing but friendly and welcoming, and it was a real pleasure to be visiting a big, well-established faire.  The fans were enthusiastic and generous as well, and CD sales weren’t bad at all for an act no one had ever heard of.  Several fans followed us from show to show over both days, and most of the “resident” performers made a point of stopping to hear at least part of a set.  The kindness of the Hooligans, the Interpreters, Gypsophelia and of course, the Pyrates went a long way towards dispelling the away game jitters.  I hope to see everyone again next year!  Shows that far away aren’t exactly big moneymakers for us, but this one is good for the soul.  It’s nice to re-establish the connection to the larger Faire community, and an opportunity to meet so many truly amazing, like minded people.  Even the heat couldn’t dampen the experience this weekend, although it certainly made a noble effort.  While the weekend ended far too quickly, it was a relief to be back home and in sweater weather on Monday night.  Of special note, my kind hosts for the weekend were my former boss and dear friend from our faire, and his lovely and knowledgeable wife.  It’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen them, and the experience was like visiting my big brother who’d moved away.  I’ve missed having him at my table in the summer time, and very much enjoyed getting to know his wife a little better.  He’d become a part of our family up here, and I was much reassured to find that neither the fondness nor the familiarity had been lost to time and distance.  ( I admit, I was a touch worried) I’ve had the honour of making some wonderful friends in the Festival community, and we’ve become a lot like a big, if scattered, extended family over the years. 

The only part of the trip that I didn’t thoroughly enjoy was the actual drive.  I took a different route coming and going, and regardless of which route I choose, the entire state of Pennsylvania seems to be consistently under construction, and has been since at least 1996.  At least I had company from another bandmate on the drive home.  Jen observed that the state tree of Pennsylvania appears to be the traffic cone.  We arrived exhausted but happy at about 7:30 Monday night. 

Now I’m off to unpack my suitcase.  After such a hot dusty weekend, it’s a 50/50 chance I’ll have to burn my costume.  Go Borax go!  I hope not, as I have another show on Saturday.  The last of the season, at Royal Medieval Faire in Waterloo Park West.  As much fun as it’s been, I’m looking forward to a little down time as the Festival Season comes to a close for us. 

To everyone who’s come out to a show, bought a CD, or supported us along the way, thank you!  It’s been a privilege performing for you. 

Have a wonderful fall/winter season!