The End of an Era

This is the end of this blog.  My new blog is up, although it's design still needs a lot of tweaking.  I decided to just get it workable so I could post--it's been holding me back, you see, and I've been dying to post.

My new blog's address is bethanyshoults.blogspot.com

Hope you like it! Be sure to give me some feedback.

Changes

I know I haven't posted in a while.  There is a reason.  Maybe not a good one, but, anyhow, it's this:  I am getting a new blog and ditching this one.  I've been wanting to for a while.  A long long while.  For one thing, the address of this blog is a constant source of embarrassment and regret.  Almost as soon as I chose it for my address (eight years ago in gr.12 no less) I regretted it.  It is so dumb! Very keen fun machine??  It just doesn't fit.  Another thing is I want my blog to go in a new direction.  When I started this blog eight years ago, blogs were new, not a log had been done with them, not many people had them.  Now things have evolved (for the better, I think) and I've had a yearning to move ahead too.  Labee has been trying to get me to look at this blog for a while, and I resisted.  I think a part of me resisted because I knew it would inspire me to change out of the every day humdrum.  So when I finally looked I loved it and it did indeed inspire me.  This is another blog that has inspired me.  The bottom line is, inspired in large part by those two blogs, as well as by thoughts and ideas that have been floating around in my head for over a year now, I have decided to start a new blog.  One featuring my art (I've been painting up the wazoo) (coincidentally, I hate the phrase 'up the wazoo'), some fun cartoons, and with a weekly installment of my frustration drawings for all to enjoy. It will also include updates from my life.  All in all it's going to be a more creative place.  It's going to buzz with my creativity.  Speaking of my creativity, it HAS been buzzing lately.  Non-stop.  Oh yeah. And I've decided to be an artist.  An artist who sells her paintings.  There was nothing holding me back from doing this before except myself, and I guess I've officially stepped out of the way.  Go me!  Ok now I have to go.

ps: I am addicted to the apple cider vinegar cucumbers stott introduced me to.

little fears, a breif update

I realize I haven't blogged in a long time.  I just have a few things to say.
One: I got my license!
Two:We are officially moved to the trailer court
Three: Owen and Angus got croup
Four:While visiting Sarah in Kelowna she dyed my hair and now it's a wonderful myriad of dark brown, copper, red, and blond.

I've been so tired lately.  And then I gained two pounds out of nowhere.  There's always the little fear that I'm pregnant...and as you know, an unplanned pregnancy can be a leetle stressful.  But (I feel like I need to clarify this) well worth it in the end when you've got a fat little urchin like my little curly-topped Angus.  Anyways, those two things combined aren't enough to make me seriously consider the possibility of being with child.  Especially since, you know...we are being careful...(a little too much information?).

Now that I can drive I feel so powerful.  I feel on an equal level with big burly men because they can drive and I can too.  I feel so free.

I've been reading in my gr 12 journal.  Wow.  It is boys, boys, and more boys.  Eventually all the insignificant other boys get eclipsed by Chip, and then my entire diary is a Chip log.  It must be pretty boring to read.  Sorry future generations.

The dry wall in the living room and the boys' room is cracked, and as it so happens, both those rooms are painted this horrible puke light orangey-brown, and Janice (landlady) said she'd pay for paint if we wanted to paint.  I've been thinking mint green for the living room with chocolate brown accents and chocolate brown for the boys' room with a pale blue wall, or a light brown wall.  Can't decide.  I hate it when people say 'well, dark colours make a room seem smaller' it's so annoying, it's made so many people afraid of vibrant colours!  Dark walls can make a room look smaller, but it can also add interest and beauty and atmosphere.  Warmth and all that.  White is so flavourless and bland!  Unless it's done stylishly.  Which is possible.

I should go to bed.

Sunday Wearin

We are in the midst of a move and the house is chaos. I don't have much time to be on the computer, but I have a few minutes right now, so I thought i'd post some pictures of the outfit I wore on Sunday.  It consists of all thrifted items except for the pencil skirt.  One of the trends that I love right now is taking old-lady clothes and making them cool.  Like that purple flower-print vest. It's a fun challenge.

I have tons to get done though, so I must go.

Four Leaf Clovers. Unfortunate Salsa Incidence.

I canned some salsa the other day and tried it today.  It is limey.  I sort of decided spur of the moment while I was making it to add a lil lime zest and juice (of about one lime).  And it totally took over the flavour! And it was a big batch!  I'm afraid Ben won't like it now.  Also, it's not very spicy.  But at least I've learned so next years'll be better.

Oh yeah, and we're moving.  Our friends offered us a trailer at 200 less than what we're paying now.  Originally they were going to let us build a fence, but now the trailer court landlord says no.  Pooh!  I was so looking forward to that.  You have no idea how much.  I've been longing for a fenced in yard.  This sucks!

There's so many things I should be doing but I don't want to do any of it.

I found three four leaf clovers today.  And one five leaf clover.  Some people don't believe me when I say things like that.  But they are easy to find.   Whenever I look for some, I find some.  Easy peasy.  Dave kept two of the clovers for his 'remembrance book'.  'Well I'll be dipped!' He exclaimed excitedly when I showed them to him.

Stand up to Bullies.

Tonight after Angus was in bed, and Owen was in his pajamas, I heard yelling from the downstairs neighbours.  You may remember me mentioning them before, here and here.  They often fight, yelling and spewing out the 'f' word for the entire complex to hear.  Lots of times we can hear the baby crying and I've lots of times wondered if he hurt his girlfriend, from the things that I heard.  It fills me with angst and horror.  I can't relax and my heart breaks for the little girl, who is about a year younger than Owen.  Well, tonight I heard the fight go outside and I heard her sobbing and yelling for him to get off her.  I was so frightened but I opened my door and looked, and I saw him dragging her across the gravel.  She was struggling but he pushed her and forced her.  She had scrapes and cuts on her arms and body.  Before I knew what I was doing and I was yelling at him to stop.  He turned and saw me.  He yelled at me that she was trying to leave and then he turned back to his girlfriend and grabbed her head and pushed his head against hers and yelled at her fine, to leave.  "You can't treat her that way!" I shouted.  I was shaking.   He turned and went back inside and slammed the door.  The girl (I don't even know her name) turned, crying and shivering, and went and sat down in the middle of the driveway.  I asked her if she wanted to come upstairs.  I asked her if she wanted the phone. I asked her if there was anything I could do.  She didn't want any help.  She told me she hated him, then she grabbed a rock and threw it at the door as hard as she could (I could smell alcohol surrounding her in a cloud).  He came bursting out of the door and grabbed her again and shook her, yelling at her that she couldn't throw rocks at 'his house'. I was holding Owen and I was horrified that he was witnessing this.  'Stop it!" I yelled again.  He turned and went back inside, slamming the door hard enough to shake the whole building.  I tried to comfort the girl but she was distant and after she grabbed his bike and threw it, she went back inside.  I came back inside and I called Ben.  I didn't know what to do.  I was suddenly afraid that I had done a stupid thing getting involved.  I was afraid of that guy and his explosive temper.  Ben got permission to leave work and he told our sort-of landlord (he's hired by our real landlord and is sort of a care taker) (he lives behind us in a trailer).  Then Ben came inside to see me.  He told me that when he'd come up, the people downstairs had been sitting together talking.  She'd been sitting on his lap.  The landlord said to call the cops, but we decided not to, because if they were all lovey dovey, what can we do?  If she doesn't want to be rescued, what can we do?
It is so upsetting.  And what's more, now that we know for sure that he is abusive, we don't feel safe living here.  We don't want our children exposed to anything like that. We are talking seriously about moving.

For the rest of the time Owen was awake, I played with him and tried extra hard to keep him happy.  He seemed unphased by what he saw, and he laughed hysterically when we played with his gigantic new ball from WalMart. Then he had a glass of milk and sat on my lap as we watched Max and Ruby. (I love that show.  As far as children's shows go).  I wish I could be as unphased. I feel just awful.  But I know it was the right thing to do. If I hadn't stood up to him I would have regretted it, I know.  I have to tell myself that, because another part of me is trying to say that is was stupid to interfere, and didn't help anything, and may have put my family in danger.  But I did what I thought was right, and if I can't trust my own sense of right, that is a problem.

Anyways, enough about that.  It is getting late and I have a lot of skins piling up that I need to get cracking on.

Invasion

I have to admit, paranoia has set in. Today we killed five wolf spiders.  Yesterday, four, and there was one that got away.  Every day more and more wolfs.  I obsessively keep the floor clear from clutter--toys, clothes, shoes, socks, boxes, wrappers, what have you--anything where a wolf might be lurking.  Every time I enter a room I do a scan of the floor, and then of the walls.  Every time my foot touches something unfamiliar--a crumb on the floor, perhaps--I quickly look to see if it is a wolf.  The worst part is, I know they are here.  They are lurking somewhere just out of sight.  One could appear at any moment.  Our outside stairs are crowded with webs.  The outside frame of our door is thick with webs.  Our balcony is beginning to accumulate webs in the corners.  Wolfs invading from every side.  It is really hot at night, but I am afraid to open our (unscreened) window to let in a cool breeze, for fear that when I open my eyes there will be a large wolf spider splayed on the wall a few inches from my head.  Something must be done.  I cannot live like this.