Musings of This, That and Other Things

Lil Boo, almost 4 yrs old: Mommy, I want to marry Poppa, I like him.
(she'd just watched a wedding show on TV with our daughter. Poppa-> Grampa)
Mommy: But Nammie is married to Poppa.
Lil Boo: She can't, I WANT to marry Poppa.
Me: She can marry him if she wants, as long as I have access to his money.

Poppa got her a ring. Her rock's bigger than mine. Pffhhht.

I laugh every time I walk in and out of the two automatic doors at the gym. I feel like Get Smart when he walks through all those doors at full speed. Yeah.. laugh if you will honey but if you're picturing it, we're around the same age.

LOL @ the lady @ the hardware store.
No problem when you walked right by me, straight to my hubby in the next isle and offered your uhhh.. services. I laughed when you made an about face and followed him right to me. Yeah, me. The one that needed help. The dirty look you gave me? Whatever. I've had much prettier and sluttier try to poach. However, you crossed the line when you yarded back the ladder I was leaning against to tie my shoe. You knew it, you smirked.
Suck it up, Buttercup, I can't help if I'm skinner/younger than you and I have the man you are lusting embarrassing yourself over.
You wanna play the game? Bring it, I can deal with a grown women. But I'm not going to play with you today, I left grade school quite some time ago.

Speaking of. I signed up for my my high school reunion. Um do I gotta put the number of years..? I don't wanna. But I guess I'm gonna.
Alumni Class of '80.
Just how the hell am I going to remember these people?!
I'm going to hide behind my high school lifelong bestie is what I'm going to do.

My eldest daughter was born the wrong era. I've always known, she's such an old soul. Her personality, her beliefs.. her thought processes. The concrete proof came when we went shopping a couple of days ago and we happened along a hat store. She walked out with two hats, one I'm very envious of. Well I'm envious of the fact she suits hats. I don't suit them at all.
Anyhow... Proof in the pudding.

'20's styling

Newspaper boy styling

What about you, my bloggy friends, what are your musings of the day?

The White Russian (alcohol free)

When one googles the White Russians, all one gets is the alcohol related pictures. And that's not where I'm going with this.
White Russians are people, seemingly elusive people at that.

Ask me how bad I wanted to photograph this group of people, sadly I never got a chance. All I could manage was an iPhone picture taken without consent, but she acknowledged the action at the same time. )

Fascinating culture these people seem to be. A mixture reminiscent of the Amish and the Hutterites. (yet more I'd give my eye teeth to photograph)
The White Russian womens's headdresses are such vibrant jewel tone colours, as are their long dresses. (While the Hutterites are a modest black or blue.)
 One can not help but admire the overall effect. ( the married ones wear the head wraps, singles don't. Married men sport beards like the Amish, single men are clean shaven. Both wear suspenders, a nod to the Amish again.)
A wee bit of background:
They call themselves White Russians to separate themselves from the Black Russians, to which they want no part of, I'm told. They immigrated from Russia with a choice of two places and two places only; Oregon U.S.A and Plamondon, Alberta Canada. Why those two areas, I've no idea, I would of loved to find out.
They live on farms or in small clusters of houses within the same geographic area of a certain number of kilometers.
I'm also told they are quite friendly and love to talk but I had yet to meet up with a chatty one. Perhaps because I was female. The single ones had no problems communicating with my husband. *wink* The married ladies busy with their young.
Twice I went up to join him while he worked, staying in a wee little cabin on the lake. Twice I wanted to photograph them in their settings, hoping to garner an invite to their homes.But the opportunity didn't present itself. ( If I was in thinking mode, I should of had hubby chat one up and get me an invite. Hey.. whatever works. )

I have a fascination with different cultures, the way they live, interact among themselves/the rest of the world.Their beliefs,customs, their cooking methods.. If time and money would allow, I'd travel to areas to learn and photograph what's considered 'different' than mainstream.
But reality is what it is and I'm not likely to take up the nomad life any time soon. Hopefully in the near future, though, I'll have another crack chance at the White Russians.

This is the iPhone picture and she's not even wearing a vibrant colour. But you'll get an idea of what a White Russian looks like.

Wordless Wednesday- Winter can be pretty

Back country Hoar Frost  

Wordless Wednesday- Lake

The colour of serenity 

Musings of This,That and Other Things

Why can't people on the TV shows shut the doors when they walk in somewhere?? It bugs me to no end and,yes,I get it's quite trivial.
But they never. shut.the.stupid.door. and they get caught or get dead.
Just shut the frikken door already.
Yeah yeah, I hear you...going to get a life now.

So hubby and I went out to a restaurant on the recommendation of his bandaid at work. ( medic on the pipeline) She gushed about this place. 
We didn't finish either of our meals. My salad was limp from too much dressing. (one of my biggest pet peeves) and his steak would of done a shoemaker proud. He commented to her the next day, 'Good thing we're married otherwise she would of left me sitting there.' 
Truth.
And um Bandaid? Raise your bar a tad. 


(Little) Bitch, Please. 
If you are above us in this class, then by all means, there's the door. Don't let it hit you in your oddly shaped ass on the way out, mmkay? Oh, and honey? - those are not legs, those are sticks. 


See me laugh as I drive by you parked on the side of the road, the flashing red blue lights dancing off your tailgate. Pardon me while I gloat a bit.. it feels good after you cut me off, sped through and crossed lanes in the middle of the intersection. Yes, your truck is bigger but your brain isn't. I hope the several tickets he's issuing you hurts. They are well deserved, Asshat.


I was watching rain drops line up and run across the jeep window the other day as we were driving. It reminded me of when I was younger and would imagine those drops to be a symphony being played out. ( Dad listened to classical music ) Or children racing each other across the playground. I'd be rooting for the little raindrop guy, hoping he'd pull ahead and win the race. I'd have entire conversations going too.. 
Yeah, I'm just talented that way. 


Did I ever tell you about the six million dollars I almost won?
Missed it one by. one. facking. number. 
Yup.One little teeny tiny square over.  
My MIL cried, I literally just shrugged my shoulders and hubby took us on a trip with what we did win. ( 3500.00)
It wasn't meant to be.
But ohhh as I sit here in the frozen tundra of Western Northern Canada while the snow and wind play havoc with any that dare to test the day, I think back to that moment. :-/


Me, 4 a.m as my 4 yr old grand baby tries to sneak into my bed:  
Why are you sneaking into Nammie's bed? 
She who is wise beyond her years : Because I love you?  
You play dirty warfare, kiddo. 


What about you, my bloggy friends, what are your musings of the day?