Apparently I woke up in Canada this morning

It didn't last long, but it sure was pretty.

Why you won't find me on facebook

In the recent weeks, I have had some people trying to cajole me into getting on facebook. I know, I am the last person in the known universe to not have a facebook profile. So what? I didn't get a cell phone until after Elise was born.

I don't facebook.

I don't have a myspace.

I don't twitter, tweet, nor am I a twit.

I'm not even sure what friendster is.

The funny thing is, I would jump through fire for these woman who are doing their best to turn me, yet I will not sign up for facebook. And I understand why they want me on there... but I have this thing against facebook.

I think facebook, and other social networking sites like it have ruined the very notion of community. "What?" You are saying to yourself, "Joanne are you stupid?" And while the answer to that question might be yes, the footnote is; not about this.

I actually love the idea of facebook. I don't have an issue with using facebook to keep those that you love (that don't live in your general vicinity) in the loop about the goings-on in your life. I also like the idea of re-connecting with old friends that you have lost touch with and it's not always easy to keep up with them using other methods.

I also don't mind it as a way to communicate quickly and succinctly, even with those who live near you.

What I hate is how it has taken the place of any meaningful communication with the people who are supposed to be your real-life, living-and-breathing friends. You know, the ones that live within a 25-mile radius of you. People that you could get together with, if you decided to put any real effort into it.

The other thing that bugs me is how people update you on every single mundane thing in their life. I don't care if you; just walked your dog, or are going to bed, or are waking up, are shopping or not shopping on Black Friday, hate/love Black Friday, like that it's Friday, etc. But that's a whole other post.

And no, I don't think that I'm hypocritical for having a blog on which I post about MY mundane life. I do it for therapeutical reasons. Having people out there that actually come to my blog of their own volition and read my verbal spewings is just the cherry on top.

I think what started my hate for the facebook is when Elise was diagnosed with diabetes. Did you know that during the four days we were stuck in that hospital, only 5 people came to visit (and one was a couple, so really is was 4 people)? There we were, during one of the darkest times is our life; our child was diagnosed with a chronic, life-changing illness, and people thought it was okay to text us to see if we needed anything. It really made me sit up and take notice of the people we counted on as friends.

Facebook has made it okay for hands-off kind of communication, taking the place of any real community. It seems nobody wants to get involved in anybody's life anymore, especially when things get messy. Does receiving a text with a sad emoticon and the words, "hope u r ok", really convey to people that you care about them?

And that is why I shun facebook and all of it's cousins. I don't want to be okay with drive-by community. And I never want to get to the place where I'd rather write on someone's wall when their world has been shattered instead of coming alongside them and being that living, breathing, real-life kind of friend.

Let's get us a tree!

Ahhh, the annual jaunt to the Christmas tree farm. Or as I like to call it: "Let's try and make Joanne's head explode day".

It's not that I don't love our tradition (which started 9 years ago), of trekking out to a Christmas tree farm in the middle of nowhere, selecting our "perfect" tree (this one... no wait, this one. How about THIS ONE? Where's that first one again? They all freaking look the same!), and schlepping it back to our house. It's that life these days is a little more complicated, and everything rides on keeping with the schedule.

So we started out this morning by waking up late. Okay, no problem, let's just get ready as quickly as humanly possible. We piled into the car only 45 minutes behind schedule. And we were very low on gas.

But because we like to live dangerously, we pointed the car east and drove. At a very old-lady-like speed of 60 MPH. Fred has learned the hard way not to speed.

We got to the farm and ran to where the tractor picks you up for a hayride out to the field. I gave Fred, Elise and Seven very explicit instructions... we have 20 minutes to find our tree. At the end of those 20 minutes if we're not chopping something down I'm going to close my eyes, spin around and point. Whichever tree I'm pointing at, we're taking. I don't care if it's 20 feet tall.

tractor ride!

With that in mind, we were off. To my surprise, we found a tree we all agreed on quite quickly. Unfortunately, there was nobody around to take our traditional "in front of our tree before we sacrifice it in the name of Christmas" photo, so we propped the camera up on Elise's diaper bag, set the timer and ended up with not a bad picture, considering.

Our tree!

After we cut down the tree, hauled it back, paid for it and strapped it to the car, that's when the fun began. We were trying to get out of a rather small parking area when one of the cars in front of us got stuck, essentially blocking our way out.

Now I was starting to freak out. Elise is on a type of insulin that starts to peak around four hours after we give it to her (hence the keeping to the schedule thing). If she's not eating her lunch when it starts to peak, her blood sugar will drop and she could pass out or have a seizure. We had planned to leave the farm and drive about 15 minutes to Chick-fil-a for lunch. We were fast approaching her time to eat and were stuck in the parking area. But like any good D-Momma, I had some food with me and started to feed her in the car.

Luckily there was another way out, but Fred had to go down a long line of cars and tell them to back out the other way. Which commenced the poorest display of driving I have ever seen in my life. People were backing out and turning the wheel the wrong way and almost crashing into trees. Women were vacating the driver seat so their husband (or some other male) could back them out. It made me weep for my gender. We were finally free about 10 minutes later.

Now were we not only running against the clock for lunch, but to get Elise back in time for her nap. We don't miss nap time at our house for anything. Because I said so.

What followed is a comedy of errors that you can only shake your head at and laugh. We missed the exit to Chick-fil-a and it took an extra 10 minutes to turn around (due to stupid drivers in front of us, and slow, small-town lights). We were pretty much running on fumes, so we decided to fill up right after lunch. First a guy stole our pump. Then the pump we picked was on the wrong side for our car and the hose didn't stretch. Then they didn't take Amex (the card we use because we get 3% cash back). On the way home I swear the tree was going to take flight from the roof of our car at any moment.

But, we made it. They tree stayed attached to the car, Elise BG was fine (albeit a little high), and she napped for an hour and a half when we finally got home. Most importantly, my head didn't explode.

If it had, Fred wouldn't have been able to take this rather cute picture of my daughter and I.

So THAT'S why they call it Thanksgiving...

(also posted on my other blog)

Every year our church puts on a pancake breakfast on Thanksgiving morning. And every year since we started attending our church, we have gone to said breakfast. Because there is no way we pass up food that someone else has cooked.

They also have a tradition of passing around a mic, so that whomever feels led, can talk a little about what they are thankful for. As much as I wanted to speak my piece, I don't really fancy crying in front of people that I don't know very well.

So I thought my blog would be an apt place to post what I am thankful for. That way nobody has to witness the mess my face becomes when the water works start.

Of course I am thankful for my husband. I cannot stress enough how much he does for our family. Elise and I are blessed.

I am thankful for Elise. She is, in a word, amazing. And sweet, loving, smart, hilarious, kooky, and just a blast to be around.

I am thankful for his job that gives us medical insurance. Insurance that helps us afford to keep our daughter alive.

I am thankful for medical advancements and all the scientists out there working towards a cure. Thankful that I live in a time where diabetes is not a death sentence.

I am thankful for the roof over my head, food to eat, and a car that gets me where I need to go. And everything else that God has entrusted to me.

It really is a wonderful life.

I love...

... Moms who bring their kids to play times, and then sit on the side and zone out; leaving the rest of us to police their unruly children. Drink some coffee and wake up ladies, this is NOT free babysitting. When my child has been waiting patiently for another kid to abandon a toy, and when they do, your child comes over and rips it out of my kid's hands; I WILL return the favour in kind to your precious, little California Rae, who does not need to come to playtime dressed in full princess regalia. Wake up and smell the entitled teenager your daughter is bound to become in about 8 years.

... Kids named things like California Rae. Or Nevada, or Dakota, or Boston, Manhattan or Chicago. Hey parents? The map of the U.S. called and wants it's names back. The only name I'd be semi-okay with would be Ida Ho. Because my sarcastic, sick-and-twisted side finds it funny. My mother-of-a-child side finds it awful and is about to call CPS on you.

... People who are so ignorant that they think diabetes is nothing more than some sort of allergy to sugar, and not a potentially life-threatening disease that needs almost around the clock care and attention. Apparently, some people are allergic to smart.

... Those of you who are Apple users and apparently think it is your earthly duty to make other people blindly worship the product as much as you do. I am happy that you have found something that works for your computing/music/cell phone/being-connected-at-every-single-stupid-moment-of-the-day needs, but not everybody has to worship at the temple of Steve Jobs. When I talk about getting a new computer, that is not an open invitation for you to start in on me. "You should totally get an Apple. Apple rocks! Appley-appley-Iphone-IPod. Apple, Apple, Apple... blah blah blah." It's your fault that I no longer want to even eat an apple.

This is not aimed at those who are Apple users, just those who are users and think anybody who doesn't want an Apple (or can afford one) is an idiot.

Hmmmmm, some of the knots in my back have gotten better, but not all. Perhaps I should have used more profanity in this post. Maybe next time.

5 things

I took this from Wym's blog. You should meander over there when you get a chance. She's quite funny and can see Mexico from her backyard.

Which, of course, is almost as good as Russia...

5 things I can't leave the house without:

• my daughter and all her various supplies to keep her alive and well


• my cell phone (albeit very reluctantly)


• a bottle of water


• my solemn vow to try and not kill any of the many terrible Texas drivers I encounter.


• my wallet (because I couldn't think of anything else)
  

5 cartoons I watched as a kid:

• Muppet Babies


• Smurfs


• G.I. Joe


• Transformers


• Scooby Doo
  

5 things I want to do before I die:

• See a cure for diabetes (bet you didn't see that one coming)


• Visit Victoria Falls and raft the Zambezi River below the falls


• Visit Australia and New Zealand (I admit, not a lofty goal, but for someone who cannot stand to be cooped up on an airplane for more than about 4 hours, a goal nonetheless)


• Speak Portuguese fluently and with a fabulous accent


• Go through one day without being worried or stressed about something (yes, I realize that I'd probably be have to be dead already if this were to actually happen)

Daily Picture Reject #12

Should it worry me that my daughter finds random hair balls to be this fascinating?

I haven't posted one of these in awhile, so here's the official explanation:

For those of you unsure what the Daily Picture Reject is: Fred and I take a daily picture of Elise. Rather, I do. This is not because we are prepping our daughter for a life as a super model. It is simply a way to hold onto memories as time slips by at ultra-sonic speed. It's also pretty cool to see how much she has changed in 804 days. After I take the picture, I email it to Fred, who then posts it on his website. It usually takes about 10 to 15 shots to get just the right picture. I am not what you would call a stellar photographer, so about 25% of those are completely unusable. Then there are always one or two that crack me up, but aren't suitable for the daily picture. Hence, the Daily Picture Reject!

Yes we are still taking her picture every day. No, we don't know when we're going to stop.

I'm published!

Okay, not really... but my letter to the editor was! If you want to read all of the who, what, when, where, and why (and perhaps a how or two), just click this link to my other blog.

Today, a letter to the editor. Tomorrow, a 859 page novel about an invading army of space giraffes from the planet Gyrot. And one wily human (who may or may not be named Joanne), and her plans to save the planet from these even-toed ungulates.

I pick Tina Fey to play the lead character in the movie version. Because our glasses are very similar.

Lest We Forget

Growing up in Canada, November 11th (Remembrance Day) was a time that we would reflect and give thanks to those who gave their lives for our country.

There was always an assembly at school (usually the day before, since Remembrance Day was always a day off), marked by the reading of In Flanders Fields (see below), and the playing of Last Post. This was followed by two minutes of silence at 11:00 am (the 11th hour on the 11th day of the 11th month), the time the Armistice of World War I was signed in 1918. To this day, the sound of a lone trumpet makes me want to bow my head and stand silent.

We wear poppies on our lapel to honour our veterans; a symbol of the famous poem In Flanders Fields which was written by a Canadian during WWI. To read more about the history of the poem, you can go here.

I thought it appropriate to post the poem today, in Remembrance of all who died so we could live free.

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.
— Lt.-Col. John McCrae (1872 - 1918)

So nice, I'll post it twice

Hi, my name is Joanne and sometimes I am so lazy I cross-post stuff from one blog to another!

Seriously, this one is so worth it. If you like apple butter, you need to check out my other blog for an amazing recipe. You can just ignore all the carb count stuff in brackets...it probably won't make any sense to you anyway.

Click here for yummy, apple-goodness!