Thursday, May 24, 2007

Cancer knows no boundaries, does not discriminate, touches us all...



I am putting this on my blog, but guys, don't feel obligated... I am just making sure I put out the word everywhere I can! This is a copy of what my Relay For Life webpage has on it.
xxx

I am asking for your support in my effort to raise funds for the Canadian Cancer Society’s Relay For Life here in the Columbia Valley.
I have always been involved with the relay, but this year it has taken a more personal note for me: my step-father, whom I loved dearly, died of cancer this past November.
I am asking for pledges not only because I will be in the relay on Saturday, June 9, but because I have committed to shaving my head and donating my hair to be made into a wig for children with cancer. Here's to hoping I have a nice head under all that hair!
My goal: $10,000. All and any help you can offer is greatly appreciated.
It's so easy to donate: just follow the link below. You can donate on-line or download a form and send in your donation. Please leave your email address behind so I can thank you personally… and send you an after photo of me minus the long red hair!
So few of us have not been touched by cancer in some way…
With heartfelt thanks,
Stevie

If you would like to donate, or just check out the relay, copy and paste http://www.kintera.org/faf/home/default.asp?ievent=211515&lis=0&kntae211515=026E462036C447EEBDAAE7DB566100D9 into your browser. My team is called The Summit Sweethearts, and my full name is Stephanie Stevens, if I haven't told you already!

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Me and my sweetie....



Here be me and my Ian at the Tea, Tulips and Tequila party at our friend Jenny's lakehouse last week. It was a lovely day, which turned into an equally lovely evening! Oh yeah... hats were mandatory, and if you didn't bring one, you got a rather silly one from the pile by the door... I brought one, but had taken it off for the photo (brim too big). Ian, however, neglected to bring one, and was given this little gem to wear... hee hee! I highly recommend clicking on this photo to enlarge it and get the full effect of the hat...

Sunday, May 13, 2007

So, there was this malamute....

Hi guys!
This came to me via email from a friend, who received it from a mutual friend of ours who is a malamute owner. It is a true story, with some artistic licence of course in the form of the dog's script, and best beloved is the partner of the malamute owner who wrote it.
And I totally had to share it with you guys, because I may have never had a malamute, who as I understand it have immense appetites, but I have had thieving dogs.
Today was Mother's Day, by the by, and I hope all my fellow mums had a wonderful day filled with love.
xxxx
Stevie

Dog: I am starving.
Me: Actually, no. You aren't starving. You get two very good meals a day. And treats. And Best Beloved fed you extra food while I was gone.
Dog: STARVING.
Me: I saw you get fed not four hours ago! You are not starving.
Dog: Pity me, a sad and tragic creature, for I can barely walk, I am so starving. WOE.
Me: I am now ignoring you.
Dog: STARVING.
Dog: Did you hear me? I am starving.
Dog: Are you seriously ignoring me? Fine.

[There is a pause, during which the dog exits the room in a pointed manner.]

[From the kitchen, there comes a noise like someone is eating a baseball bat.]

Me, yelling: What the hell are you doing?
Me: *makes haste for the kitchen and finds dog there*
Dog: *picks up entire raw sweet potato, which is what was causing the baseball bat noise, and flees for the bedroom*
Me: *chases dog, retrieves most of sweet potato, less the portion which has disappeared into dog's gullet*
Dog: See? STARVING.
Me: ...That can't be good for you. It's a RAW SWEET POTATO.
Dog: I had to do it. I haven't been fed. Ever.
Me: You realize you aren't normal. Normal dogs don't steal raw sweet potatoes.
Dog, sadly: I was badly brought up.
Me: Yes. Yes, you were.
Dog: By people who starved me.
Me: Oh, no. I am not doing this again.
Me: *exits the room, bearing sweet potato*

[There is a pause.]

[There is a noise like someone is trying to eat a baseball bat very very quietly.]

Me: Oh, for the love of GOD.
Me: *heads off to the kitchen*
Dog: I am not eating a raw sweet potato.
Me: You have sweet potato parts all over your snout.
Dog: But you don't actually SEE a raw sweet potato, do you? So maybe that's just - um. A birthmark.
Me: Did you seriously eat a whole sweet potato?
Dog: You don't listen. I told you, I wasn't eating a sweet potato.
Me, searching around fruitlessly: Look. NO MORE SWEET POTATOES.
Me: Oh, what am I saying? This is you we're talking about, here. *goes to hide all the sweet potatoes that are left - which isn't many - in the fridge, because some people cannot be trusted*
Dog: *attempts to look thwarted*
Dog: *does not succeed, because her tail is wagging so hard small cyclones are forming in the kitchen*
Me: *has a very bad feeling about this*

[There is a pause, during which I do not even bother trying to return to what I was doing. I just stand in the computer room, waiting.]

[There is, as I wholly expected, a baseball-bat-eating noise.]

Me, stomping back to the kitchen: OKAY. GIVE ME THE DAMNED SWEET POTATO.
Dog, looking up guiltily: What sweet potato?
Me: THE ONE IN YOUR MOUTH.
Dog: Oh, did you want this? I just, um. Found it. Lying here.
Me: *confiscates the sweet potato and deposits it in the locking trashcan*
Me: Let us say no more about this.
Dog: ...Nooooo! They be stealin' my sweet potato!

[I attempt to remember what I was doing before the sweet potato episode.]

[Some ten minutes later, I succeed, and return to it.]

[NOT ONE MINUTE LATER, I hear a noise with which I have become all too familiar.]

Me, bonking head on desk: Arg.
Me, arriving in kitchen: How did you even get another sweet potato?
Dog, smugly: I have my ways.
Me: Are you punishing me for being away for several days? I was at a FUNERAL, you know. It wasn't FUN.
Dog: How would I know? You didn't take me. You left me here with only one human to look after my needs. One human is NOT ENOUGH.
Me: *shuts dog in bedroom, conducts a sweep of the kitchen to track down all remaining sweet potatoes, wipes up random sweet potato particles from floor, eradicates all traces of sweet potato from house*
Me: *lets dog out*
Dog, sulkily: Oh, so you think you've won.

[I watch her go about her business with the same sense of overwhelming doom that heroines of Victorian novels get when they meet Count Sinistrus Grimblack for the first time.]

[Half an hour later, there is a wetter, juicier eating noise, as though someone was eating a very moist baseball bat.]

Me, wearily: What NOW?
Dog, hunched over the remains of a butternut squash: *says something garbled because her mouth is full*
Me: Okay. Fine.
Me: *stomps over, empties entire vegetable bowl into trash*
Me: WE JUST WON'T HAVE ANY ROOT VEGETABLES ANYMORE. THERE. ARE YOU HAPPY?
Dog: I'm not even remotely sorry. I told you I was hungry. And you went to a funeral without me.
Me: ARRRRRRRRG.

[A half-hour later, there is another baseball-bat-eating noise from the kitchen. The dog, who apparently does not know how to win gracefully, has found another sweet potato, or possibly caused one to materialize from the Rift.]

Me, hauling chewed sweet potato parts from the mouth of a dog very reluctant to part with them: Oh my god how is this my life?
Dog: Don't you think it would just be easier to feed me?
Me: EVERYONE GO TO THE BEDROOM AND STAY THERE. EAT NOTHING.
Dog: Actually, I feel...um...not so good.
Dog: *throws up* *vomit is very bright orange*

[Unfortunate details ensue.]

Some time later:
Me, attempting to rescue something from the wreckage: So. What have we learned from this?
Dog: Sweet potatoes are yummy!
Other Dog, looking thoughtful: I should pay more attention to crunching noises. Sweet potatoes are probably yummy.
Me: I need a lobotomy.

And that, Best Beloved - and anyone else who made it through that - is What Kind of Day It Has Been.

FRICKING SWEET POTATOES. ARG.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

Okay, my news!

So, I have been the program coordinator of the Summit Youth Centre for, hmm… I guess five years. Part of the first year as assistant coordinator, then taking on the top role.
So anyhow, it has never been a high paying position. It started out as $14/hour, but only 25 hours per week. Then I was raised to $15 an hour, for 30 hours per week. But it was never enough to actually live on, so I have always had a second job. Last year it was at Gerry Gelati, which I LOVED, but I was working an average of 70 hours per week (of course not all paid hours), and was pretty well exhausted. (You see, I have been paying my rather large business loan the whole time, but not actually focusing on my business because the youth centre seemed (and seems) like such a vital part of the community). Plus, this valley is horrifically expensive to live in. Most recently I have been working with literacy, teaching senior citizens how to use computers. It cut my hours down a bit, but also my income a little. And... well, let's just say while I love the actual job and the seniors... it may not have been the best choice I have ever made.
Long story short: at the youth centre there has never been enough money to pay me properly and give me full time hours. But without being paid properly and at full time, I could never find the funding situations to make that happen. It's a chicken and egg thing, really.
So, I had a “wee” breakdown about a week and a half ago, told my assistant coordinator I was going to quit both jobs and find one that was only 40 hours a week and paid properly (even had an offer), and my assistant totally freaked. So, after badgering me for what seemed like hours, she convinced me to let the board of directors know what was going on. She also wrote to the board and told them her thoughts… fairly bluntly.
So I did it. I let them know as much as I love this work, I simply cannot go on like this.
So, they bit the bullet, decided to scrunch the budget, put our dream budget into action right away, and pay me the full 40 hours per week, and raise me to $20 per hour, with the understanding I go out and get what we need to stay on with our dream budget.
Which means: I can work ONE JOB!
The other bonus to this is once I secure an endowment fund for the centre, and I am ready to go, I can leave the job, open my photo shop, and just be a board member, but we will have a job to offer that is actually attractive to someone.
Of course, the downside to this is now the pressure is really seriously on for me to find a lot more money as our bank accounts will now drain faster, and really soon, but, at least I can focus on it solely.
So, the past few days I have been speaking to them all, and I realize all of a sudden how truly weary I have become over the past year or so, have told the literacy position I am quitting and hopefully it will only be one more week with that. And, I will be able to rest. Crazy man. Crazy!
Ian is even more relieved than I am I think, and hugged me ever so tightly when I told him.
So that is my news! Seems jobs are the changing tide for me, Lesley, Dale and Rache!