The awesome life of Tasha...

Poor Gus, so sick he couldn't even stay awake while I got my hair done! I don't think I keep my wintery thoughts inside, but in case you are unaware, I dislike cold. I dislike snow. I dislike dry skin. I dislike static. I am not a huge fan of winter. I could live in a tropical locale very happily. But, I am Canadian. No hopes for tropics here.  I have to tell you, however, my distaste for frosty weather pushed aside.... this weather has got to go. An Ontario winter shouldn't be, as December draws to the end, seeing the plus side of the thermometer. That mercury needs to take a drastic dip. And quickly! My poor wee man, Gus, is down and out. Sicker than I have ever seen him. Not just the man cold either, he is legit ill. Germs have run rampant in this balmy wintery weather and infected him with a triple threat. Bad enough he has caught the dreaded influenza virus (and by Influenza I don't mean the gastrointestinal version, I mean the full blown fever, shakes, run

If I had the means (and/or the nerve) I would totally be pumped full of neuro toxins. May not sound that attractive, but heck yeah, I would do it. I think my forehead would appreciate a little relaxing.  And if it weren't for a stinking anaphylactic allergy to muscle relaxants I would absolutely give it a shot. Ha! No pun intended. And yet, even with the threat of death, it still crosses my mind at least once a week that I should look into injecting my face full of  botulinum toxin type A . And really, are muscle relaxants and botulism in the same family? But as I sit here typing away, Coco Loves IceT has come on the TV. Have you seen this show? Seriously what the heck?! Coco is apparently 33. I was so shocked that I had to Google her. She is, in fact, 33. (And just as a side note, IceT is 54! Holy senior citizen! Still, to this day, when I see IceT all I can think of is him dressed as a kangaroo... Tank Girl. Great movie even though IceT is clearly a freak)  Thirty-Three.

Patience. Some people have it. I, however, do not. Some days I think I do, then all I have to do is slide in behind the wheel of a vehicle and I realize, what a facade. Patience is not one of my virtues. And really, I am not sure why people think it is so important. I get through life just fine with my short fuse. What's wrong with a little anger? Nothing, I say. And if you disagree, well I have no patience for you. Traffic, or rather other vehicles on the road in general, will always set me on edge. Whatever semblance of patience I may have thought I had, is blown right out the window. For the most part, I can dispel my feelings of vehicular ire by cursing a blue streak in the privacy of my own vehicle. And I am quite sure I could make a sailor blush at the variety of vulgar language I can come up with while driving. I am an extremely creative, non-patient person. I do have to give myself some credit, I actually have a wee bit more tolerance than I used to back in the

Here I am, sitting at my desk in the ol' workplace, for my last Tuesday here. After Friday, it's all done. I am no longer a business owner. Not only that, I have no workplace whatsoever. WHAT?! On the upside of a limited income (soon to be zilch-o income) is I can now say I am in recovery. My name is Tasha and I am a recovering Shopaholic. It's been a path of discovery and self-healing. I have really found myself and the deeper meaning of my need to be a consumer. Do I need 10 different purses? Do I need shoes in every colour? Do I need 3 drawers full of make-up? Who the hell am I kidding?! Of course I do! YES! I need all of these things! I need to shop. Its in my blood. Its who I am. I shop, therefore I am. Money does not buy happiness. Bullsh*t. Money does indeed buy me the things I need to be happy. My life needs Things. Discovery and self-healing? The only discovery I need to make is whatever new stock Winners has just put out. The self-healing... a new purse, watch

I have so much on my mind lately I feel like I am drowning in my own thoughts. I am in a constant state of thinking... which in my case can only mean one thing. I am most likely losing that last little grasp I had on sanity. Now, don't get me wrong. I am not having a bottle of wine a night in honour of my own personal pity party (although, even at 11 am as I am writing this, that doesn't sound like a bad idea). I guess, technically, I could hold a soirèe celebrating my internal turmoil, but who the hell wants to open that can of worms?! I'll stick with my internalisation any day rather than turning into one of those Facebook status updater types who have the need to tell the masses when they've stubbed their toe, have a zit, or are purposely vague in their eternal sadness quotations, followed, of course, by the ever popular FML. Really? Is your life ending because you're having a bad hair day? FML should be reserved for things like; oh my god my only friend in the

Well, I guess that's it. Summer is done. There are some that like to remind us that technically summer will continue for a few more weeks, those are clearly the people without children or those willing to commit a serious fashion faux pas. Because, as all assumptions go, it's done, finito, kaput come Labour Day. The white pants go away, the children go to school, life resumes in a full non-white clothed -packed lunch kind of way for the next ten months. As summers go, mine was a pretty good one. There was a lot of time spent in the ol' workplace. Ugh right?! But thank goodness for Grandmothers! And luckily my child has three! Without them the summer would have been awfully dull for the kid. Yaya started the summer with a great little Wasaga Beach adventure for the three cousins. Her pocket book may have regretted the trip to Walmart and then the trip to Rounds Ranch where she had to endure hours of waiting while the kids did whatever Rounds Ranch has to offer. But the

Well, for a self-proclaimed addict to stability and a creature who cowls in the face of change, I seem to be walking directly into change's line of fire and throwing stability out the window. Don't get me wrong, I want my good friend, stability, to snuggle in and sit with me for a while, while my dreaded foe, change, hits the road and keeps on walkin', but it doesn't seem to be working out that way for now. It all started a few years ago when my life got flipped turned upside down. It began with a tragic accident and snowballed from there, leaving both sides of my family sad and without our beloved patriarchs. But I have to say we all put on our big girl panties and did the best darn job we could without them. Things changed, they had to, and some change was good. Some things just got different, different in a way that was, well, different. Let's fast forward a bit, get over that teary little bit... After a lot of hemming and hawing I decided that I should tak

Well, I survived. In fact, I would consider the trip again. It wasn't drinks on the beach but it wasn't torturous either. And much to my own surprise I can rough it! I knew my week would be a "dry" one so I made sure to get a few drinks into me the Friday before we left. Two Caesars and a beer later I had a great sleep at the Four Points by Sheridan in Mississauga. Which was a good thing as 5:15 am rolls around pretty quickly! By 11am EST the boys, Ethan (nephew) and Gus (son), and I were at our destined airport, Saskatoon. And let me tell you, the walk to the baggage claim is quick! Nothing like our workout of a maze at Lester Pearson. It was lickety split and we were out of there and off for a Saskatchewan breakfast with Grandma! When you fly to Vancouver, you smell the sea air when you step out the doors of the airport. When you fly to Saskatoon, you smell canola. (Both of which beat the pants off of the oppressing smog that greeted us in Toronto on our r

The time is quickly approaching where I, along with my little cohorts, will board flight AC1121 at 7:55 am headed west. We will be arriving at our destination some 3 hours later. Saskatoon, Saskatchewan is our terminal of choice. Well, "choice" may not be the operative word here. We are here because, my mother, the little coherts' grandmother has used all her mite to will us this way. I have been spoiled by my mom with her frequent visits to Ontario, but as the only and biggest guilt trip she has ever laid on me, it is my turn to fly to her home and visit her in the great wilds of northern Saskatchewan, our journey's end. As I talked about in my earlier writing, Tasha and The Great Outdoors, this will be similar to a camping trip. My mom lives in a cabin in the midst of....  trees, lake, fish? Who knows what is found in the depths of the north? We shall see how I handle this all at the week's end. You never know, maybe I am cut out for a life of basics...  

This post should come with a warning label. Perhaps it should only be available wrapped in a paper sleeve... yes, we are going to get dirty. And I do mean dirty in the allegorical sense. Oh my. If you are a Puritan, if you are holier than thou, if you are basically just uptight and self-righteous, just stop reading, this one-sided conversation is about to get spicy. Last week, my will was broke. I spotted 50 Shades of Grey sitting prominently on display for sale. And on sale! I had to know what everyone was talking about. I nonchalantly walked passed the shelving and scooped up my copy. I quickly turned the book around, trying to hide my smutty choice. Not that any female over the age of 18 wouldn't recognize that cover, front or back, in an instant. I, like everyone, had heard that this book was dirty, so called "mommy porn". I had no idea what "mommy porn" would be, but still thought that maybe I should try and hide my choice from general public view.

The awesome life of Tasha...: Real Estate, Church Crescent and Pools. : New to the neighbourhood.... Thinking of moving into our neighbourhood? Well, you better check with Gus Grafos. He is definitely giving...

New to the neighbourhood.... Thinking of moving into our neighbourhood? Well, you better check with Gus Grafos. He is definitely giving our new neighbours the ol' cold shoulder. He is bitter. That was his house. We had made an offer on the same house they moved into. We didn't firm our offer when their offer came in, so we lost out and believe me, an eight year old can hold a grudge! (And yes, I tried to buy a house across the street from me! What can I say, it's a great crescent!) He mutters each time we pull onto our crescent and one of their cars is parked on the street. They have too  many cars, too many guests, and they need to stop parking on the street! Gus finds this disturbing. He would like them to restrict their vehicular action to their own stinkin' driveway. He has even sunk as low as to insult their dog, who happens to be a sweet looking little beagle. Gus claims the dog 'doesn't look too smart'. He has the idea that, given the oppor

The man cold has hit my house. Well, to be completely accurate, my place of business. As that is where I have been, along with the "very sick" Gus for the last 7 hours. Yes, I have had my "sick" son with me at work for SEVEN HOURS! Luckily for me (or him, however you look at it) he has been very low key, quiet, self sufficient,  with only the occasional burst of energy resulting in a corresponding outburst from me that bursts his little energy bubble. It was my idea to keep him home. I didn't want my kid to be "THAT" kid that gets everyone else's kid sick. So after a debriefing this morning, I established that he is the first in his class to come down with these specific set of symptoms. So, with no regard for my own sanity, I told Gus he could not go to school today and would have to stay with me at work for the day. Crazy, right?! Throughout the day, Gus has been asked by nearly every member that has come in after 9am "No school toda

Where will I be this summer? It's only taken 10 years, but I will be boarding AirCanada flight AC1121 at 7:55 am on July 14th headed for Saskatoon, SK with my son, Gus, and nephew, Ethan.  From there we will be whisked away to my mother's idea of paradise near La Ronge, a mere 5 hour drive from Saskatoon. I have resisted visiting my mom, Joan, over the last decade since she moved across the country, but alas, her latest plea (aka guilt trip!) wore me down. My strong, vital mother pulled the old, I want you here while I am still happy & healthy... not when I am sick and you HAVE to come. Geez louise, she really laid it on thick. But, to her credit, it worked. The visits from my mother to Ontario have been plenty in the last 10 years and we do talk daily. My reluctancy to head over to SK was not due to any silly family feud or anything of that sort. You see, my mom lives a different sort of lifestyle. One that I am completely unfamiliar with... a RUSTIC lifestyle!

  50 Million, can you even imagine that cheque going into your bank account? Well, one lucky former Mt Forest resident, doesn't have to imagine. That's exactly what he is doing this week. Lucky son of a .... He claims he "will continue to work"!!?? Really? Why not give up your job to someone one who is not a multi-millionaire! If you want to work, start your own company, hire people to run it. Create more jobs. But, hey, I am not the one with 8 figures sitting in the bank, what the heck do I know? I started to read the article in the paper but, to be honest, I got too angry to even read the whole thing. Silly, right? I guess its not anger, its pure unadulterated JEALOUSY! I feel like he stole my chance at winning. Really, what are the chances that 2 people with ties to Mt Forest would win? Now, my chances have greatly deteriorated. Thanks, buddy. I actually couldn't sleep thinking about this all the night I found out he won. Crap, I thought I had the w

Do you have a bathroom? After years of being in the restaurant business, I cannot express the happiness I feel at the prospect of having a long weekend off! Long weekends in a restaurant mean more work, longer hours and resentful thoughts to all those happy travellers who stop in and ask "do you have a bathroom?" To which you are always tempted to say, no, sorry we don't, there's a bucket out back you can use though. Do you have a bathroom? I am always shocked when I hear people ask this question, what the heck!? Of course, there is a bathroom! Whether you can use it or find it, now that is the real question. "Do you have a menu?" Nope, sorry we aren't that type of restaurant. "Is everything you have on the menu?" No we have a secret menu too, but we only show that to people we like. Last table in the restaurant... "Oh sorry, are we holding you up?"   Would you like something to drink... "No- I'll hav

  May 12th:   Trillium Run, Mt Forest My first experience at any type of a race, run, whatever you would like to call it, was a wee bit of a shock to me. I had no idea the level of competitiveness in these runners. I thought the fact that they referred to the run as the "5km Road Race" was just a formality. But no, it was definitely a race to the finish... for most. I had no intentions of beating any preconceived time or "medalling" in the race, believe me, no intention at all! But much to my chagrin, EVERYONE'S time was recorded for public view and noted by everyone, and later will be published for even more people to see. It makes me laugh at the thought. And the story of my first race, is for sure that, a laugh! We ran... sort of. Gus, Linda & I made a strong start, but it was a short lived strength. We stuck to our plan of running 2 minutes, walking 1 minute for the first kilometre, after that things definitely started to fall apart!