Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Friday, December 11, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
China- (Mandarin)- Kafei
Ethopia...(where it may have started) -Buna
Tuesday, December 8, 2009
Your hair? receding like the snows of mt. Kilimanjaro
Your mother? Once scored higher than the Wife playing one of those "how naughty are you" at one of them lingerie hen-parties. That incident cost me close to 20,000 dollars in psych appointments.
Your father? Obviously pleased about Scrubbie Mamma's "how naughty are you" test results
Favorite food? Oh Gosh - the list, m'darlin's..., is sooooo long. There is just no way to narrow this one down. Lets go with.. Gummi Bears.
Your dream last night? involved pudding.
Your favorite drink? no hesitation here - nectar of the gods, sweet honey of life, golden delishishnuss - it's rye. Wonderful, thank the Lord above, make Scrubbie happy, Rye.
Your dream/goal? My dream goal? All the Bud Light girls winning a shootout against the Ottawa Senators. Hmmm? Whaddya mean "dream goal" then?
What room are you in? In the Kitchen. With a knife. Call me Professor Plum.
Your hobby? Finding new and fun ways to keep those nostril hairs at bay. Blech.
Your fear? Those nostril hairs getting out of control - growing wildly and culminating in taking on a life of their own, wrapping themselves around my head and neck - slowly choking the very breath of life out of me while I sleep. *shudder
Where do you want to be in 6 years? I dunno. Honestly - i'm pretty content being an average schmuck in the Great White North here. But, if you really push me for an answer, I'd have to say in 6 years I'd like to be a neurosurgeon practicing my craft on a tropical island with lots of those naked-booby people roaming around. You asked.
Where were you last night? Right here. With the Wife. And the Kid. And the lunatic dog. Watching Christmas movies on the tube. With popcorn. And tea. It was perfection.
Something you aren’t? A fisherman. Haven't we established that clearly by now?
Muffins? We're talking about baked goods, right?? There's a whole list of naughty euphemisms for muffins which I assume is not the intention of the question. Well - in either case.... Yes please.
Wish list item? Muffins
Where did you grow up? Pretty much everywhere. Arms, legs, torso, wibbly-wobblies - all pretty much proportioned. Geez - that's a weird question.
Last thing you did? Thought about what the last thing I did was. This is a loaded question and can never be answered. See, if I say the last thing I did was type the letter R, whoops - see - the last thing I did there was type a comma. Now a period! It just never ends!
What are you wearing? The official uniform of all residents in the Great White. Jeans and a really big sweatshirt to make sure I keep warm.
Your TV? Thankfully, not an issue. I have been vaccinated. Oh - Tee Vee - not TB.
Your pets? wildly odd.
Friends? I don't really have any. I am generally not well liked. And, frankly, I generally don't like people. I like things simple.
Your mood? Frantic. Yes - even medicated... still frantic.
Missing someone? Yes. But, hopefully now that I have a new laser-sight... I'll finally get the little bastard.
Vehicle? Dog Sled.
Something you’re not wearing? A wig.
Your favorite store? A. I'm a guy. B. I'm Canadian. The answer, my friends, is blowing in the wind and should be painfully obvious. CANADIAN TIRE. WooooooHooooooo!
Your favorite color? Beige. lovely, neutral, clean - beige.
When was the last time you laughed? I never laugh. Unless the dog farts. That is pretty darn'd funny.
Last time you cried? Tears of joy when Star Trek came out on DVD.
Your best friend? The Wife. She da bomb.
One place that you go to over and over? Canadian Tire. Duh.
Facebook? Ya. What about it? Oh - I invited every person on facebook that has the same name as me to be my friend. They're all accepting those friend requests. It's hysterical. It's also confusing 'cause I keep seeing that I am doing all these weird things in status updates. Then, I have to pause and think - "No, wait... it's not ME that is climbing mount everest tomorrow. It must the the other guy."
Favorite Place to Eat? It's a toss up between right here at the igloo, surrounded by the Wife, the Kid and family and friends - who are all enjoying a full out meal that I have envisioned and created. We dine via candlelight (especially when the electric goes out), imbibe with regional wine, have a few laughs and drink in the friendship and love that fills the room. It's that or ...an Oktoberfest sausage on a bun with sauerkraut and mustard from the street-meat vendor outside Canadian Tire. I can't decide which.
Monday, December 7, 2009
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Saturday, November 7, 2009
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Monday, November 2, 2009
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Friday, October 23, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Yes Scrublings - its yer ol pal Scrub here once again.
We last left our heroine quite preggers, experiencing some discomfort and strolling the halls of the hospital with her dear Scrubbie in hand.
Well.... the aforementioned walk through the halls did diddly-squat in terms of bring the Wife any relief.
We did make a little stop at the telephone though. The Wife called up our dear friend Hurricane and immediately burst into tears saying "I dont wanna do this anymore!" Ummmm... bit late for that.
So - after a good boo-hoo... the Wife and me returned to our room. Things seemed to be calming down a wee bit.
We had planned to hang out and get in a game or two of Cribbage. So, we had brought all the goods to play - dug 'em out of the bag and plunked ourselves down to count to 15 a whole buncha times.
We managed to get the cards dealt. The Wife laid down her first card. "Four..... OHHHHHHH!" Contraction. Tears. "I can't do this!" More tears.
"Time for drugs?" I ask.
"YES" she says.
Well - will spare ya the details of the epidural. Will just skip to the end: "Ahhhhhhh". No more tears.
The Wife is nice and comfy now. Ummm... a little too comfy.
"Oh...." says Florence Nightengale, our Nurse. "I think we might have given you a little too much".
Apparently so. The Wife - cant feel nothin from her belly button on down.
The Wife - thrilled to bits with this development.
Anyway - hours and hours have gone by. Women have arrived. Shot out a kid. Cleaned up. On their way home. We are... still there.
Things seems to be moving a little slowly.
"Ya know, Mrs. Scrubbie..." one of the nurses says... "maybe we can help things move along."
"Really? How?" asks the Wife.
"We're gonna tie you up." says Florence.
"But that's how I ended up like this!" says the Wife.
Scrub - not in the room when all this went down. Scrub - returned to the room to find: 4 nurses, many bedsheets turned and twisted up, one preggo belly being supported up in the direction of boobies with said bedsheets, 5 women giggling. If this were an issue of Playboy magazine I would have started this posting by saying: "This never usually happens to me... but...."
Ya - it was pretty funny.
So - little more time goes by. Well.. a lot of time really.
Time's a ticking. Wait! What's this?! Somethin about a doc sayin that the Wife is all ready to get goin with the pushin.
"Ok, Mrs. Scrubbie..." says the nurse... "we're gonna ease up on your epidural now."
"Huh?" says the wife. "Why?" asks the wife. There is a distinct tone of... ummmm... panic in her voice.
"Well..." says the nurse... "we need you to be able to feel everything 'down there' when you're pushing."
"Now wait just a cotton-pickin' minute here. Nobody said anything about having to feel anything!" says the wife.
Despite a vigorous protest - the epidural was in fact eased back and sure enough - the wife was a' feelin it.
"Ok Mrs. Scrubbie... time to push. Ready? 1. 2. 3. PUSH"
Again - I'll spare the details.
Nothin. No kid. No nothin. Despite the pushin'. Nothin.
In our fetus-fetchin' room - there was this big 'ol light that the docs and nurses could roll around. They crank this mega watt thing on to get a good peek at the U-hoo and everything that's goin on 'down there'. Know what I mean?
The wife... being a Scrapper... says "oooooo - that's one helluva craft light! I want it!" (I know... seriously, eh?)
So - the light is on. It's practically daylight on one particular wifey area. There's the nurse and Scrubbie yellin "Come to the light! Come into the light!"
But - still.... nothin. No kid. No nothin.
Well - this went on for a while. A good while. The wife - after already bein at this whole givin' birth thing for the better part of 24 hour straight... was exhausted. The docs - had these machines that go 'ping' all over the place and told us that the Kid - appeared to be hangin on for dear life. Nice and warm in there. No reason to leave. (things haven't changed. STILL a stubborn little fart). And, according to the machines that go 'ping'... all this huffin and puffin wasn't good for either the little fella or his soon to be mommy. So - decision was made to yank him out with a C-section. Mommy - pretty much too exhausted to even care at this point.
So - epidural cranked up again. Nicely cranked up. Wife - bit of relief. Scrub - still awake. Time: a little before midnight on October 22nd.
Now - we wait.
The story continues....
***Addendum. Hey kids - Scrub here again. It's been a few minutes since I hit the publish button. The wife - just did a review of Scrubs writing and wishes for me to point out somethin. I mentioned that it's been almost 24 hours of this givin' birth thing. Well - minor correction. See - it was Monday morning at 8am when the whole process started and contractions began. So, in fact, now that it's almost midnight on Tuesday - we are WAY past 24 hours. WAY WAY past 24 hours. And, the Wife - at this time of a little before midnight on Tuesday October 22nd - is thinkin to herself: "Gosh Darnit... almost 48 hours of labour and NOW they wanna do a C-section? Why the hell couldnt we have decided this 47 hours ago?"
Now that I have made this correction - the Wife is going to put away the kitchen knife that has been positioned strategically in Scrub's direction.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Howdy kids. It's Scrubbie at the keys tonight for yer readin' pleasure.
Yes boys & girls - that was the phrase that greeted me at 8:02am 13 years ago today.
See... the Kid - gonna be a teen only two days from now. And, every year, the Wife and me go through the 48 hours that lead up to the arrival.
So - I gets to work. The phone was ringing. Didn't make it to the phone in time. But, said to my pal there "bet that was the Wife sayin the Kid is on the way". Sure enough - 2 mins later - phone rings again. And, yep... the Wife says ... well... you know what she says. No need to get graphic, right?
Scrub hops in the go-kart and fetches the Wife and away we go to the fetus-fetcher.
But - While the bun was in the oven, and pretty near darn ready... things were'nt quite.... ummm.... ready... ummm... yet.
So - sent the Wife and me home to go and have a bit of supper. If the wee fella wasn't slip-slidin' on out overnight - they told us to return to the fetus-fetcher and they'd scare him out - or whatever they were gonna do.
Went home. Went and visited the parents - both sets. Ahhhh... the Wife... she was a'glowin'. Then, we went to a local eatery to scarf down some rotisserie chicken. Couldn't believe the Wife was in labour - and there we were - at a local eatery - scarfin' down some rotisserie chicken. But - there ya go. That's what we did.
Didn't make it through the whole night. The wife - she was feelin' it BIG TIME. So, we packed up again and headed out into the REALLY early morning.
Oh - important to note: Scrub and the Wife had an igloo that was a good .... oh... 50 mins by go-kart at full throttle away from the fetus-fetchin' building. 50 MINUTES! That's an hour if you factor in a stop at Timmies for a coffee. Which, of course, had to happen. We're Canadian, eh.
Now - Scrub was not interested in havin' the Kid make his grand appearance into this world on the side of the road. Nope - not one little bit.
But - as Scrub was a Boy Scout at one time - he remembered the motto "Be Prepared".
So - Scrub had his ERBDK ready to go. Packed. Ready to go.
Huh? OH - ERBDK? Ya - stands for Emergency Roadside Baby Delivery Kit.
Had all the good stuff in it. Couple of towels. Bottled water. Gloves. Turkey baster.
Huh? Turkey baster? Oh hell ya! Ya know - all them doctorin' shows. How they stick a turkey baster up the kids nose after they're born to suck out all the goo? Gotta have a turkey baster in your ERBDK. Obviously.
the story continues....
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Alrighty - so it's time for another edition of Scrubbie Shares. And, Scrub has a freebie for ya and yer digiscrappin' pleasure.
Ya'll recall a while back, Scrub told ya about a nasty bit of business at the Scrub Shack? Few years back there was this, ummmm, fire. Big one. And, the Scrub Schack went bye-bye. All of it.
Anyway... long story made short... the Wife and me were able to dig out a few of the Scrappy layouts we had made over time that were all mangled and nasty lookin. And, through the miracle of photoshop and Crown Royal, Scrub's been mucking around with them to bring 'em back to life electronically. Kewl, eh?
Here - take a look. Little before and after for ya.
Not quite identical - but that first one did survive a million gallons of water, fire supression foam and the ravages of time. (Remember - Scrub's an old fart and the page was done with *gulp* paper about a hundred years ago)
Anyway - there's been some nice comments about Tool Time - so thought it'd be fun to do a little quickpage for ya. It's the Tool Time page - without the Kid in it. haha.
You know the drill - download, insert your pic and take all the credit yourself.
So, without further ado... you can get the DOWNLOAD GIGGLES HERE!
Who loves ya? SCRUBBIE!