Showing posts from January, 2012

And then, there was drywall...

by Andrea Mulder-Slater No, really.

What's that up your nose? Oh nothing, it's just a bluebird - of happiness...

by Andrea Mulder-Slater When I was a kid, it was a family tradition to pick up the national newspaper on Saturday, find the Dave Barry column, sit down with a giant cup of acidic coffee and listen to my dad read the words that made him laugh so hard his eyes would fill with tears. My entire family (all three of us) loved Dave from the time we discovered a little piece he wrote entitled "How to Build a Board", or something like that. It was in the back of Popular Woodworking or Popular Mechanics or Popular Science or some other popular  magazine. The column talked about how best to construct a plank of wood so it would be useful for killing spiders. The color of the wood stain was key. What occurred to me, is the awesomeness of what I'm about to share with you. Last year, as part of my ongoing commitment to take on projects that help everyone in the world except me, I organized a fundraiser for our local arts centre. I called it " Guess Who ". It wa

Word Filled Wednesday

by Andrea Mulder-Slater No, really.

How to out-crazy a middle school bully

by Andrea Mulder-Slater I hated the school bus as a kid. I loathed it. I despised it. I dreaded it. For good reason. From the time I was in grade one, a girl named Jill* bullied me - relentlessly - on the big yellow torture tube. She called me “ the little rich bitch ”, she sneered at me and she tripped me (regularly) when I walked down the aisle with my Holly Hobbie lunchbox. Here’s the thing. I grew up in a house that was pieced together from old motel units. For a number of years, it had no floor. There are pictures of me, as a toddler, wandering across a makeshift pathway, made up of 2x4s in the living room. We had no curtains until I was seven. I was not rich.

Sundays are for snow or sand... whichever.

by Andrea Mulder-Slater What do you do when you can't get to a warm, sandy beach - y'know, because it's the middle of winter? Easy. You go to the home improvement store and mess with their displays. Or, you just give in and brave the cold. Either way... No, really.

My quiet sucks

by Andrea Mulder-Slater Geoff was up well before daylight today. The basement floor was poured at the new house two nights ago, and warmth from the fireplace heat dump is required to help it set up. So he drove out to put another bunch of logs on the fire. For the record, I dislike the word "dump" immensely. Growing up, "dump" had a very specific meaning and I can't shake the connotation. I'm immature like that. It's like when kids hear the words "shuttlecock" or "Bangkok" or "crap". See what I mean? I heard the outside door close, just barely, when Geoff returned home. I think my Montana Moose threats are working because lately, he has passed the stealth test again and again. I however, need a refresher course.   I got up to share a coffee with Geoff. Well, we weren't really going to share the same coffee. There was plenty for both of us. Plus, he drinks his coffee black and I take cream. In any case, he was s

People... as seen by a 3 year old

by Andrea Mulder-Slater Yesterday, the 3 year old announced that she was going to draw a girl. Next, she drew a boy. Then she drew the entire family. Later... a village. And just like that - she is drawing people. Every person is drawn the same way, with the same proclamation, "A head, and two eyes. Some hair. And some legs!!!!"  The drawings are always followed immediately by a happy dance, some enthusiastic jumping and a loud chant of some sort. Point being, the kid is exquisitely elated with this new found skill of hers. She is also drawing the letter "x" (or "t", depending on which way you twist your head) with abandon. This makes me smile. Meanwhile - today, she informed Geoff that her dollhouse toilet is attached to a pipe which goes down to the basement, out the wall and into the backyard. Huh? She's clearly spending far too much time at our new home construction site. Life is good. No, really.

That is one badass farm

by Andrea Mulder-Slater My daughter is crazy about tiny plastic toys. It’s an obsession that began just after she turned 2 years old. I blame the owners of Sundog Books in Seaside, Florida for getting her hooked. That’s where she first saw them... a large round basket full of 'em. We're talking a massive collection of dogs, cats, birds, snakes, bees and beyond - designed to keep the kids occupied, so parents can stand around pretending to read Noam Chomsky books. For those who don't know, Seaside is a beautiful, but exclusive place with lots of expensive people running around. How we made it past the imaginary gates, is still a mystery (to the guards). In any case, from that day on, we’ve fed the girl’s habit by purchasing a crap load of fake creatures. Sometimes, she takes baths with them. And sometimes, they become part of her nana’s sculptures.  Like this one which I like to call, " Frog. Dog. Love ". Last year, someone bought her a set of plastic din

Calcium pills should never be swallowed at night

by Andrea Mulder-Slater Lately, between the full moon , Tim Roth and the endless stream of creative thoughts and dark imaginings that regularly occupy my mind, sleeping has been near impossible. For more than a week I've been working on five or six hours at best - when I'm lucky. This wouldn't be an issue except for the fact that when I get less than eight to thirteen hours of rest a night , I become paranoid and obsessive... far more than usual. To be clear, it's not that I can't sleep. I just can't sleep at night - or, when it's appropriate to sleep. Case in point. We were driving back from the city (Jan and the 3 year old in the backseat, Geoff and I in the front,  a thousand pounds of  hardwood for the new house in the truck bed)  when I conked out - head titled back, mouth wide open - right in the middle of a conversation with Geoff - who was (fortunately) in the driver's seat. Could've been a far more eventful trip had our seating position

Damn you Tim Roth. Damn you.

by Andrea Mulder-Slater Tim Roth has taken over my life.  It all began at the holidays when I noticed Geoff making frequent retreats to the bedroom with his laptop and a set of headphones. Me : Um, what are you watching? Geoff : Lie to me. Me :  I’m pregnant. Geoff : WHAT?! Me : You said I should lie to you. Geoff: Well played. Turns out that while searching for a Tim Roth movie on Netflix, Geoff had fallen victim to a television series called Lie to me .  He told me how the show was about Cal Lightman, a deception expert - played by Roth - who reads people by analyzing their micro-expressions. He further explained that the crime series was based on the real life research of a behavioral scientist called Ekman. Analyzing. Behavioural scientist. Micro-expressions. It all sounded about as exciting as disinfecting my loofah sponge. But Geoff was captivated and like a devoted addict, he invited me to give it a try.  Y’know, just once. I thou

That awkward moment when you realize you're old. And crispy.

by Andrea Mulder-Slater Something dreadful happened to me in bed this morning.  I woke up, turned over and stretched – like I always do. That’s when it occurred… A pain shot from my right ear, down my neck and straight through to my shoulder blade. Even now, after having downed a painkiller (or two), I still can’t turn my head more than an inch, or look down at my feet without excruciating twinges of epic proportions. It’s the latest in a series of events, which have led me to believe that I might be getting older. Last month, I turned the age that Meg Ryan's character was dreading in When Harry Met Sally . To celebrate my big day, the family and I went to the city for a hair appointment, a lunch and a visit to the bookstore. Geoff took the girl to go and ride an escalator, while at the salon, Jan and I waited our turns. My stylist - busy with another client – glanced over at me and called his assistant over. I couldn't help but overhear their conversation. My

Most Read Posts of 2011

Follow my blog with Bloglovin by Andrea Mulder-Slater Now that it's the second day of the new year, I figure it's safe to start reminiscing a bit. With that thought, comes a list - and a craving for a latte. An large egg nog latte. And maybe a bag of salt and vinegar chips. So much for resolutions. Here are the 11 most read posts of 2011 (written in 2011)... The Social Net Worth I'm such a (coffee) charmer Feed the Birds I've got household bugs, filthy teeth and a flying... My life as I know it Art Appreciation Made Easy The Christmas freeze and dash Novocaine - fun. Metal probes - not fun Slam that door again and the moose is coming for you For the love of God, don't mess with the Particle There's a search engine developer in my bedroom Happy New Year! No, really.