Stank towel, and other very real problems.

Hi there. There has been a bit of a gap in the blog here – over two years to be exact. To bring you up to speed, the twins are now seven. Rusty and Nina are still kicking. I turned 40 this year and Anders got older too. And I am not any better at spelling, and my language is just as bad.


I guess the big news is that we now live in Campbell River, BC. Anders is working on a large hydro-dam rebuild project here and has been since the summer of 2014. We tried commuting (he would come home to Calgary every weekend, but between Monday and Friday it was just me and the kids holding down the fort) but that got really old pretty quickly.

When my employer offered the opportunity for employees to take an extended leave – it was the final kick in the ass I needed to take the plunge into unemployment and put the family back together on the island. And here we are.


I have only been here a week, and it still mainly feels like I am on vacation. When I start to think about how this is my new reality and there is no going back now, I usually end up in a full-on panic attack. I have never done this before and this shit is terrifying!


You mean this is it? Endless days of entertaining the kids, cleaning, groceries and errands? Just as I was on the verge of a seriously fantastic freak out yesterday – I had an Oprah god damn Winfrey "light bulb" breakthrough. I have to think of this as my new job. Presentations and meetings are now vacuuming and time with the kids. Okay – I can roll with this Oprah. It is all about perspective right? I am helping to develop humans rather than projects. Jesus Christ that sounds super noble! The reality of it though is that the development of these humans has looked a lot like me telling the kids to get back on the trampoline and stop sneaking junk food while I sit on the deck and drink beer and Clamato and work on my tan. 


Which brings me to stank towel. My new J.O.B.


Anders and I have been secretly whispering in shame about this problem for months. How come all of our towels smell fantastic in Calgary, but as soon as they make the journey to Vancouver Island, they turn into a gross pile of moldy, body odour reeking, disgusting rags? I have tried everything – scented Tide, Tide with febreeze, in-wash scent boosters, fabric softener, bleach, dryer sheets – and all of the above at the same time. No matter what we do – our secret shame continues to be our reeking towels. 


Earlier this year, the kids and came to the Island for a visit. While we were here, a friend had a large group of us over for dinner. At the party I heard another friend mutter something in a low and ashamed voice about her ‘stank towel' problem. I was like, “What now? You guys have this gross problem too? Don’t mutter – be proud woman! We also have this affliction - and together we will conquer stank towel!”


So yeah, that was like two months ago now, and stank towel has not been conquered, but as my new J.O.B., I feel like I can now dedicate the resources to figure this shit out.


Plus – I have some ideas brewing. I like to think that I am crafty as hell. I know I am not, but feel like if I could apply myself, I would be the next home crafty design shit mogul. So stand by for plenty of crafty shit type updates. Some of my craft ideas require power tools, like chainsaws and band saws. When I shared this with Anders he was like. ”Yeah, as full disclosure here…I feel like this is going to end with you having weird fingerless stump hands, and me and the kids will probably have to leave at that point…so yeah…” (voice trailing off at the end….)  


Also – I think I would be an awesome bee keeper. I could keep a hive or two and SELL THE HONEY! Win win! Help the global bee crisis and sell some delish honey goodness and make some money on the side. When I shared this plan with Anders he was like “Have you met yourself? Are you aware of the level of your spaziness? Do you really feel like you – and thousands of annoyed bees – in a shared space is a good idea in any way?” 


Well played Jonsson. The bee dream is on hold, but I got a few more little chestnuts rolling around in this beer and Clamato soaked brain.


I also need to train for a marathon in September so stand by for that because I know how much everyone loves hearing a person talk about their workouts. Riveting right? It would normally be all pretty okay, but I broke my foot in April by falling off a sidewalk curb (see above spaz reference) ironically enough while yelling at the kids to watch their step. I bought these crazy looking cushion shoes which are supposed to help runners come back from injury (my friend said it looked like I was running with tiny mattresses strapped to my feet) and guess what – they don’t help. I just look like an asshole with giant mattress shoes on.

I left in the coffee cup for size comparison - normal size mug, giant foot with
even bigger giant mattress shoes. What an asshole.

Okay – so here we go – boldly into unemployment, or as Oprah would call it - "the department of human development and skill exploration".