My wife stopped into Loblaw's to pick up a couple of things on a busy Saturday, and saw an elderly lady getting out of her car in the parking lot. The woman dropped a couple of items, including a cane, but before my wife can offer assistance another woman stepped in to help.
Once the senior was back under control, seemingly quite unsteady and frail, the younger woman comments on the bright orange bow that is tied to the older woman's cane. "Oh, is that so it doesn't get mixed up with other people's canes?" she asked. "No," the elderly woman replied, "it's so that I can see it."
Anyone catch that license plate?
The House of Doolittle
Saturday, 30 April 2011
Monday, 25 April 2011
Where Are My Keys, I've Lost My Phone
A lyric that Lady GaGa could have written for my lovely, if organizationally-challenged, wife.
We recently had the sort of week that left us shaking our heads, and wondering how there can be so many souls out there seemingly without a conscience.
Hoping to enjoy some fresh air on a clear spring day, I ran home on my lunch hour so that my wife and I could take our two dogs for a walk. We only had about twenty minutes, and just did a short route on the streets around our home. Our conversation covered the many decisions we're trying to make, how strained we feel right now both in terms of time and budget, and what we can do to reduce our stress. Most of it comes down to money, which I think is pretty common for married couples–even those who aren't spending thousands of dollars trying to make a baby, or caring for sick pets.
Shortly after returning from our walk, my wife realized her Blackberry was gone. Panicked, she retraced our steps in full in less than twenty minutes, but there was no sign of it. We did the route again later when I got home from work, and then tore our house apart to be certain her Crackberry wasn't mislaid somewhere indoors. It was gone, and the only explanation that makes sense is that it somehow fell out of her pocket on our walk without us noticing, and someone picked it up. It was fully charged and had plenty of contact names and personal information for anyone who found it to try to contact us, but no one called.
We placed ads on Kijiji and Craigslist offering a $300 reward, even stating that we'd be happy to just get the memory card back. If someone was that desperate for a used phone, they could keep it. One of the first responses my wife received to the ad was from someone who said they'd found a Blackberry in our area, and they would "let her have it back" for $600. We asked what the screen saver photo was to confirm it was hers, but got no response. Charming. We had no choice but to incur the unexpected expense of replacing the phone, but there was no way to replace the information on it that wasn't backed up.
A few days later, I realized that a credit card number was stored in a memo on the lost phone, so I went online to check my statement. Lo and behold there were two charges from a gas station in Scarborough that I'd never been to, dating back two weeks. This had nothing to do with the lost phone, I was able to connect it to visiting my mom in hospital, and using the card at the parking machine (which I noticed was out of order the next few days that I was there). What kind of evil person defrauds people trying to help sick relatives?! More time was lost dealing with the credit card security people, but the charges (including pending ones I didn't yet know about) were reversed relatively easily, and I was issued a new card. I lost a little more faith in people's innate goodness.
As if this weren't enough, we finally decided it was time to spend the last bit of money we'd received for our wedding, which were two $50 bills a friend had folded into origami hearts and stuck inside a picture frame. We carefully unfolded them, tried to use them for a purchase...and discovered they were counterfeit.
It's sad to run into this much dishonesty in the space of just a few days. I struggle with the idea of how I will raise a child to believe the best of people, be savvy enough to recognize when a person is bad, and not let it bring them down when they encounter a deviant. And how to stop my child from ever becoming one of the deviants...
We recently had the sort of week that left us shaking our heads, and wondering how there can be so many souls out there seemingly without a conscience.
Hoping to enjoy some fresh air on a clear spring day, I ran home on my lunch hour so that my wife and I could take our two dogs for a walk. We only had about twenty minutes, and just did a short route on the streets around our home. Our conversation covered the many decisions we're trying to make, how strained we feel right now both in terms of time and budget, and what we can do to reduce our stress. Most of it comes down to money, which I think is pretty common for married couples–even those who aren't spending thousands of dollars trying to make a baby, or caring for sick pets.
Shortly after returning from our walk, my wife realized her Blackberry was gone. Panicked, she retraced our steps in full in less than twenty minutes, but there was no sign of it. We did the route again later when I got home from work, and then tore our house apart to be certain her Crackberry wasn't mislaid somewhere indoors. It was gone, and the only explanation that makes sense is that it somehow fell out of her pocket on our walk without us noticing, and someone picked it up. It was fully charged and had plenty of contact names and personal information for anyone who found it to try to contact us, but no one called.
We placed ads on Kijiji and Craigslist offering a $300 reward, even stating that we'd be happy to just get the memory card back. If someone was that desperate for a used phone, they could keep it. One of the first responses my wife received to the ad was from someone who said they'd found a Blackberry in our area, and they would "let her have it back" for $600. We asked what the screen saver photo was to confirm it was hers, but got no response. Charming. We had no choice but to incur the unexpected expense of replacing the phone, but there was no way to replace the information on it that wasn't backed up.
A few days later, I realized that a credit card number was stored in a memo on the lost phone, so I went online to check my statement. Lo and behold there were two charges from a gas station in Scarborough that I'd never been to, dating back two weeks. This had nothing to do with the lost phone, I was able to connect it to visiting my mom in hospital, and using the card at the parking machine (which I noticed was out of order the next few days that I was there). What kind of evil person defrauds people trying to help sick relatives?! More time was lost dealing with the credit card security people, but the charges (including pending ones I didn't yet know about) were reversed relatively easily, and I was issued a new card. I lost a little more faith in people's innate goodness.
As if this weren't enough, we finally decided it was time to spend the last bit of money we'd received for our wedding, which were two $50 bills a friend had folded into origami hearts and stuck inside a picture frame. We carefully unfolded them, tried to use them for a purchase...and discovered they were counterfeit.
It's sad to run into this much dishonesty in the space of just a few days. I struggle with the idea of how I will raise a child to believe the best of people, be savvy enough to recognize when a person is bad, and not let it bring them down when they encounter a deviant. And how to stop my child from ever becoming one of the deviants...
Friday, 8 April 2011
Down By A Taz
 |
| Taz © Shutterbug |
This was our Taz less than a month before we had to let him go, being the good sport he'd always been for my camera. An ad agency client from work wanted to see photos of a black and white cat licking its lips, so I came home and tried to take some new photos of Taz to send in for the job. He happily ate several treats in my studio, but slowly lost interest in my quest. I ended up giving the client a few older photos I had of him in my archives.
Over the next couple of weeks our boy's respiratory infection grew worse, and he began to lose weight. We were out of options with regard to antibiotics; nothing was working (see previous post here). His breathing was laboured, and he was frequently blowing green snot bubbles from his nose.
As a last resort we started him on steroids, hoping this would give him just one more remission to enjoy life again. Sadly, this isn't how it turned out. After five days of waking up in the morning to find his nose crusted shut, wheezing and rattling and growing thinner by the day, we knew we'd reached the end of the road. Our vet was the kindest and most devoted caregiver we could have asked for, and he agreed to come into the clinic on his day off to help us say goodbye to Taz.
The same afternoon we made this sad appointment, the advertising client from a couple of weeks earlier called to proceed with purchasing the photo of Taz. The timing was so eerie and emotional – almost as though Taz wanted to help us pay for his final vet bill.
I couldn't sleep that night at all. I sat up reading with Taz on my chest, stroking him and listening to his purr still rumbling away. I counted the hours as they passed, and had a good cry. I took him to the kitchen sink for frequent drinks from the tap now, house rules be damned. The sink where he'd previously gotten into such trouble for kicking dishes to a spectacular crash on the floor was now his domain.
When I went to the bathroom, Taz surprised me by jumping in the tub and proceeding to playfully bat the shower curtain, then stare at me. I wasn't sure whether he was trying to tell me it was okay, or giving me a guilt trip.
 |
| Taz in the tub (c) Shutterbug |
Morning came, and although it was cold, it was a beautiful day with bright sun. Taz has always been an indoor cat, but loved to sit at the back door and try to sneak outside with the dogs whenever possible. Sometimes he made it to a safe haven under a bush or the barbecue, seeming quite pleased with himself. This last day we walked him out in our arms to let him enjoy the sunshine.
Then our hearts broke as we said goodbye to this member of our family; my wife's companion of 17 years. He knew things about her that even I will never understand. I am so happy to have known him, because he was truly a wonderful animal filled with personality. He was there for my wife when she had little else, and saw to it that she made it through to a happier place.
Thanks for being the bridge, Taz. We love you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)