Wednesday, December 16, 2009

It Ends Up Balanced

Give a little. Take a little. Win some. Lose some. Sometimes you get it. Sometimes it gets you.

Howdy boys & girls. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here on a wintery, snowy and really frackin' cold afternoon. How are ya?

Balance. Everything seems to end up balanced.

Here - take this for example:

Scrub was giddy. Scrub was jumpin' with excitement. Scrub's tastebuds were tickled pink. Let me explain.

Just t'other day, Scrub dragged out the flour and sugar, eggs and vanilla and a bowl or two. A measure of this. A dash of that. Scrub stoked up the fire and before ya knew it... there, in front of me - biscotti. Ya know - those crunchy, delish cookie thingies that just are swell with a cuppa coffee. Timmies coffee. (whoops - there's that Timmies reference again. HI Kristine!)

Anyway - biscotti. Glorious to behold. Even more-so to taste. Cranberry Pistachio biscotti to be exact. Flavoured with vanilla and almond extract. With just a hint of the olive oil used in the preparation. Oh kids... magnificent!

Then, Scrub went ahead with a second batch. Just cause I had more dried cranberries and nuts left over. This time however - DRIZZLED IN WHITE CHOCOLATE they were! The ONLY thing better than this culinary treat is cuddles with the wife or dreams involving pudding.

Heaven. Simply heaven.

So - inspired, Scrub, last night, drugged out more flour and sugar and other baking goodies. The igloo was positively filled with the smells of Christmas! Chocolate-Orange Biscotti! Banana-Walnut mini loaves! Coconut Macaroons! Lord... Take me now! My mouth was positively dripping with anticipation!

The Biscotti - dutch cocoa and the zest of the quintessential Christmas treat 'round here... Clementines. Oh... they were all chocolately-dark with that signature crackly crust on the top of the cookies!

The smell of the banana loaves were enough to attract the attention of the Kid's punk pals from miles around. They all came wanderin' over through the cold night air just to have a sniff and ask "Scrubbie - what is that wonderful smell?"

And the macaroons. Let me ask you - is there anything more perfect... is there anything that speaks to the soul more than little golden mounds of sugary goodness that just nukes your tastebuds with the taste of coconut than a macaroon? 48 of the little buggers came outa the hot box last night!

Now - here is where the whole Yin-Yang of it all comes in.

The Cranberry-Nut Biscotti - a gift from the gods. The chocolate-orange Biscotti - bitter horrid little shards that could be perfectly good tent-peg substitutes. My delectable banana-walnut mini loaves - gawddamnd bricks. And the macaroons - i don't even know how to describe the disaster.

So, you see... over the course of 24 hours, Scrubbie went from bein' all high and mighty over his screamin' success in the kitchen of the igloo, to being completely and utterly put back in my place by it.

Ah well.

It's off to the trading post where I'll simply swap a few skins and furs for a collection of sweeties that I will simply pass off as my own. Huh? Oh, ya, right... like you've never done that before.

Friday, December 11, 2009

A Rare Moment of Niceness.

Howdy kids. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here.

I'm stuffed. Full. Well sated.

Tonight, the Wife and me went for dinner. Out for dinner. At a restaurant! Seriously.

Went to this place called Oliver and Bonacelli. It was dee-lightful! Dee Lish! Nice staff. Great service. All around - it was a grand occasion.

So many times, at restaurants, food tends to be all bland and nasty. Ya know - gotta appeal to the masses. So, flavours are just not there that POP and shout.

But, not at this place.

Again, I say, it was delicious.


Tonight wasn't about the food.

Tonight wasn't about the exceptionally kewl decor.

Tonight wasn't about the Aussie accented waiter.


We could'a been eatin' cat food outa tin cans in the back of an alley in the winter cold and it would have been just as fantastic.

It's the company we had.

See - tonight, me and the Wife went out to celebrate, for just a moment, with our good pals - the Joodster and her ear suckling hubby.

Now, I'm not one to go blathering on - gettin' all gushy 'round the gills. Well, not often anyway. But, I don't mind tellin' ya - the Joodster and her ear suckling hubby - there just damnd decent people. Both have hearts the size of a house. Both have love in their voices. And, the Wife and me - are, frankly, privileged to have them in our lives.

Everyone should have folks like them around.

Enough said.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Run baby, Run!


Morning boys & girls. Yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?

Lord love a duck - we got snow. Yep - the fluffy white came down last night and this morning, it really is beginning to look a lot like Christmas.

Now... all you visiting from afar - I know you're out there... Scrub's gotta remind you of something. That is... that we Canucks talk about only a few things. Tim Hortons coffee. Hockey. And, the weather. Dull? No, No. Not really. Think about it more as an opportunity to visit us here in the Great White without the worry about n
ot fitting in. Just come on by. Throw a smile on your face and talk about coffee. You'll find nothin' but Canuck pals if you do.

In fact, here's a little public service for ya'll. How to say coffee in many languages:

Arabic Countries- Qahwa / Kahwa

Armenian- Sourj

China- (Mandarin)- Kafei

Czechlovakia- Kava

Denmark -Kaffe

Egypt- Masbout

Ethopia...(where it may have started) -Buna

Finland- Kahvi

France -Cafe

Germany -Kaffee

Greek- Kafes


Holland- Koffie

Hungary- Kave

Indonesia/Malaysia -Kopi

Iran- Gehve

Iraq- Qahwa

Israel- Kave

Italy -Coffea


Kenya -Kalawa

Laos- Kafe

Lebanon- Qahwa

Norway- Kaffee

Philippines -Kape

Poland- Kawa

Spain- Kafe

Thailand -Gafae

Back to the Weather. Yes - it's one of our topics. As Scrubbie strolls through the village or visits the local trading post... I often hear people complaining about the weather. Too hot. Too cold. Too much. Not enough. Whatever.

But - there is one little fart here at the igloo that is quite ok with it all.

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

An award? Me?

You like me! You really like me!

Hey kidlings - it's yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?

Okay - so it's happened before, but I kinda ignored it before. The truth is I just didn't really know what the hell to do with it.

It's this whole blog award thingy.

See, it's not that I was ungrateful or nothin. No, not at all. It's just that it confuses me. Remember - Scrubbie ain't all that bright. Few sticks short of a branch or whatever that saying is.

Accept the award, post it, nominate other blogs - it's all too much for me. The stress of even getting the letter "A" posted on my own blog - enough to drive a fella to drink.

But - this time... a little different.

One of them thar people that visit now and then is my good pal Kristine. She's a Canuck as well. If ever there is a reference to a Timmies coffee here on my blog - good 'ol Kristine is right there. Typical for a Canuck though - if there is a Timmies coffee anywhere - we'll find it.

Then there's that sense of humour of my good pal Kristine - there are times when I'm readin' over her blog or comments from her on my blog that make me dribble in my drawers just a little bit.

So, when my good pal Kristine told me about this little award thingy - I just couldn't resist. Thanks darlin'!

Ok, Ok... so here's the deal. I get to post this freaky lookin' lady in an apron on my blog (who looks like that? C'mon!) and I am to answer a few questions (very personal questions, I might add) and then I have to tell ya'll about another blog or two that I think are pretty darn'd kewl.

So - the questions are below. You'll get there eventually. Just keep readin' here.

Alrighty - one blog that is awful fun to peruse is by Kristi. Why? Well - it's family life and if there is one thing that always elicits a grin from this ol boy - it's tales of family life. Plain, simple, uncensored.

Another blog that I particularly enjoy is the Wife's gal-pal, the Joodster. While most of ya don't know the Joodster, her ear-suckling hubby and her two punks personally, the Jood's blog perfectly gives a peek into who this ultimate home-nester is.

So - there ya go kids. Places to visit. Things to read. What more do ya want? Blood?

On to the questions. Have a nice day.

Your cell phone? No - they don't let us have phones in our cells. But, there's a payphone just down the hall. A rather large and burley fella who likes to be called Angela guards it.
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 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

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

'Ello m'darlin's - it's yer old pal Scrub here. How are ya'll doin'?

Oh - it's been a nut-house around the igloo these days. The kid - sick as a dog - hacking up a lung. The Wife - frantic with her higher learnin' stuff. Lunatic dog - well - c'mon... it's the lunatic dog. How hard can it be?

So - yes, the igloo is bein' all tarted up to celebrate Christmas. We do that here. The bedlam shall begin soon. Scrub's fam. The Wife's fam. Hurricane and her punks. Yes - it's all comin'. Oh sure - I love it. We all do. Not complainin'. But, ya know how it is... crazy days.

Next year, we're changing things up a bit 'round here though. Next year and every year thereafter... Scrub and the fam are hangin out here at the igloo on Christmas day. Front door is gonna get unlocked at 2pm and anyone and everyone is welcome to stop in, drop by, hang out and visit for as long or as short as they like. No formal dinners. Nothin' crazy. Just casual, good times. The formal stuff - all gonna happen the day before and the day after.

But, back to this year.

Now... ya'll might recall a post or two ago, Scrub was mentioning about headin' out to the local trading post to swap skins and furs for some twinkle lights to adorn the abode.

And, ya'll might recall in that post, Scrub mentioned that unless somethin was on sale - ya know... a bargain... that Scrub was gonna - ummm - kinda - ummm - NOT buy stuff this year.

Wellllll - there wasn't anything on sale. No bargains to be found.

Nope - not nothin'.

However - Ladies and Gents - lemme introduce you to The Wife.

This darlin' - apart from being simply smokin' hot and just the kewlest chick on the face of the earth... is also the Grand Mamma of artsy-fartsy creative!

So - this past weekend, the Wife and me went a strollin' outside the comfie-coziness of our domicile to the wooded tundra and did a little foraging.

Came back. Put on a pot of hot coffee. And the 'lil darlin' went to work. Snip snip. Cut cut. Arrange arrange. And... Voila!

I mean... LOOK AT THAT!

Ain't that purty!

Here's the second one.

All stuff found right in our yard!

Lord lov'er - aint she great?

So - there ya go kids.

Even faced with the cheapness that is Scrubbie - the Wife still manages to pull a rabbit outa the hat and before you know it - whoosh, bang....

Regional Decorating.

I love my wife.

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Click here please.

A video game survey? Huh?

Evening boys & girls - tiz I - yer old pal Scrub here! Howdy!

OK - so Scrub's way overdue to post. I know. I will.

But, first - here's the scoop. The Kid... he's doing this project, see. For his learnin' institution. A Science Fair project. Nope - it's not a volcano. Not my kid. He's all techno-junkie.

The Kid is doin this project about male vs female. Oh. Ummmm.... wonder where he gets these ideas from?

And, his project is about a topic near and dear to his widdle heart. Video Games.

So - part of his project is some research. And, bein' all techno-junkie and all, he's doing his research in the form of an online poll. Seriously.

Here's the deal... anyone can do this survey. BUT - if you got Scrublings kickin' around your place - have them do the survey. Ideally, the Kid is targeting ages 10-30ish. And, for heaven's sake - pass out these links to absolutely everyone you know. He's gonna run for 2 weeks collecting results, then he's gonna graph himself to death. I'll keep ya posted.

Alrighty - if you are a SCRUB - go to:
If you are a SCRUBETTE - go to:

Got it? Scrub. Scrubette. Different links. Got it? Kewl.

Ok kids - go git 'em.

Kid needs a good mark. He's gotta get into higher learnin'. Get good grades. Get a good job. Make lotsa money. Take care of his old man.

Ya - it's all about retirement planning on this end.

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Quchjaj qoSlIj!

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls, Scrubs & Scrubettes, it's my buddy, The Geek's birthday today!

Hey kids - yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How are ya'll doin?

See him? There he is. My buddy - Geek.

So - here's what we're gonna do. Scrub's gonna list a few items here. The list - well, it's a list that will do two things.

First - the list is going to give you all, m'darlin Scrublings, a bit of insight into why Scrub calls him The Geek.

Second, and here's the fun part of us, every time you see one of the items on the list, you will know that Geek is squealing like a little girl on Christmas morning - giggling with delight. Ready?

1. Quchjaj qoSllj! (Happy Birthday, in Klingon)
2. Star Trek - take your pick
3. BattleStar Galactica
4. 10001 001010 (Happy Birthday, in Binary Code)
5. V - the series
6. "Chevron 1 - locked."
7. Linux
8. 20 Million Candle Power flashlight fights in the fog
9. GPS Trackers on Geek's and Scrubbie's phones - we know where each other is at all times. *Squeal!
10. Floorplans done up before furniture gets moved
11. The Q Continuum
12. Beta verison
13. Finding a website IP address without Web/Command prompt access = Score!
14. 967-1111
15. Big Bang Theory

Lets all just pause for a moment so Geek can collect his thoughts - have a cold shower - calm down.


So, yes kids - it's Geek's birthday today. I, for one, am happy to call him a pal.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

Prepare yourself - Some scenes may not be suitable for younger children.

Dearest Readers,

There are many things in this world that, frankly, are simply wrong.

Yes kids, Scrubbie here at the dinglee-doo this evening.

First, however - no lights purchased today.

Went to the trading post. Alone, I might add. But, it was a zoo. It was a nightmarish, busy as heck, the world-is-coming-to-an-end-tomorrow-so-I-better-buy-the-stuff-today zoo. Oh - nothin that was a smokin' hot bargain either. So, empty handed I returned to the igloo.

Unless somethin changes, it'll be candles this year.

So - things that are wrong.

1. Wars that are fueled by simple disagreements that could be solved by easy compromise or human understanding. Scrub's not one of them smartie-pants that has all the answers. Nope. I'm sure the river runs deeper that what I think. But, seriously - one side wears blue and the other side wants to wear blue too. So they think the solution is strapping bombs to people's bodies and sending them to community gathering spots. Or, they outfit 12 year olds with automatic weapons and tell 'em to go git 'em. It's wrong. Sorry if you're one of them that wants to wear blue, or think that someone else's property line goes through your yard, or that your God is better than the next guy's God. But, seriously - there has to be a better way. What works for Scrubbie is me and the next guy sittin' down over a beer and havin' a chat. It works. Honestly.

2. Parents and Children. This is a rather broad umbrella when it comes to being "wrong". Parents that are abusive to children. Adult children who are abusive to their aging parents. Issues of neglect. Parents who are too selfish to put their children ahead of themselves. Heck - any situation where an adult is taking advantage of a child or vice versa. It's all wrong.

3. Fish

4. Those that don't like Star Trek - incredibly wrong.

5. But, the ultimate in wrong... the pinnacle of wrong... the absolutely, definitively, and most utterly of wrong... I shudder at the very sight of it; cringe when I click the mouse to see it; cry at the thought of it... is...

I mean... seriously!?!

Shhhhh. Please read quietly.

Afternoon kids - tiz I - yer ol pal Scrub.

Yes, it's a Sunday afternoon here in the Great White.

Today, my friends, Scrub must forage. No, not for moose and other varmints for eatin'. No. Foraging today is all about them little lights that Scrub has to put up next week to adorn the igloo for the Christmas holiday season.

Sadly - the last set of lights the ol boy had have died. It was a slow, painful, dim death - but there ya have it. Gone.

So - it's off to the local trading post to see what kinda deals Scrub can score.

And, as ya'll know, Scrub don't much like payin full price for things. It's gotta be on sale and it's gotta be a deal. If it ain't - then Scrub don't buy. Simple as that.

This, of course, has the Wife slightly alarmed. The Wife knows that what will come home could be potentially anything - depending on what's on sale and what is a deal.

She wants to come with me.

That is dangerous. See... Scrub's a pushover when it comes to his darlin' lovie-boo. If she pours on the eyes and uses that voice of hers in just the right way... Scrub can be convinced to buy damn'd near anything. It's not that I dont want her to come. Heavens no. It's just that when Scrub's alone - it's much easier to scope out the good sales. Shop comparatively. Make sound deal-gettin' decisions. Ya know?

There is, of course, a solution to this dilemma. This dilemma of sharing in the joy of selecting pretty twinkly lights that are one of the hallmarks of the Christmas season for us here at the Scrub Shack. The dilemma marrying our desire to have these pretty things shining their happy goodness on glistening new fallen snow - casting auras of green and blue and red across the tundra and of doing all of this while being attentive to pricing and cautious with pennies.

Yes, there is a solution to this dilemma.

Scrub's gonna sneak out and not tell anyone he's going.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

The Same Old Song.

5:35 am. Every morning.

Howdy boys and girls - Tiz I... yer old pal Scrub here. Sunday morning.

So - here in Scrub's part of the Great White - we've been treated to some fancy dancy weather. In fact, was so nice yesterday that Scrub rustled up the Kid and we hit the great outdoors. No, No... not for huntin. Not for fishin. (GAWD... not for fishin). No - instead it was a great day to batten down the hatches 'fore the snow starts flyin all permanent like. I tell ya kids - couldn't have been nicer out there.

The Wife had her delicate digits all over Scrub's mouse last night. WOOOOOHOOOOOO! hehe

Seriously though - the Wife commandeered the Toshiba last night and whippped together another digipage. See - there it is. Nice, eh?

That was a pic from when the Kid turned Teen. Just a few weeks ago.

Hey - it was so nice out yesterday, Scrub even
fired up the BBQ and me and the fam had weenies for lunch! Love it - mid November and fire in the pit.

So - 5:35 am. Let me tell you 'bout this nonsense.

The ol internal clock has been going off around 5:30 every day. Seriously. 5:30. And, dont know 'bout you all - but when Scrub's internal clock goes off - pretty much gotta answer the call.

Every morning. Driving me crazy. Get up. Quietly creep around the igloo careful not to wake the Wife and the Kid. Hell - lunatic dog even looks at me with disdain. Kinda the "What the bark are you doin?

Have tried a couple of strategies to deal with it.

Done the warm milk thing. Like drinkin straight from the teat that is. Blech.

Couple of cocktails before bedtime. Nothin. Fun, but didn't help the early morning thing.

BUT - I figured a new strategy. Sort of a negative reinforcement thing. Here's the plan:

*Ding - internal clock goes off. Scrub wakes up. Instead of creeping around the igloo - gonna wake the Wife. Lights on. Blankets off. WAKE UP!

Now - make no mistake. The Wife - she aint a morning gal at the best of times. Nope. Not one little bit. Growly. Grumpy. Confused. Nope, not a morning gal.

If Scrub wakes the Wife at 5:30 - without a diamond ring or Scrappy outing planned - she is gonna be a bear. Big time. She'll be miffed. And, rightly so - will let Scrub know - in no uncertain terms - exactly what she thinks about her hubby wakin her up without a diamond ring to ease the pain or scrappy outing planned. NO UNCERTAIN TERMS.

This, my friends, is not something that I would look forward to. In fact, avoiding such an encounter is the whole reason that I creep around the igloo in an attempt not to awaken the crowd.

BUT - if my brain knows that danger is at the door by wakin up the bear - then perhaps it will keep Scrubbie asleep until a more reasonable hour!

Oh sure - I don't WANT to have to resort to such measures. But, guy's gotta sleep. Right?

I shared this clever plan with the Wife.

The Wife - ummm...less than enthusiastic about the plan.

The plan will not be going into effect.

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

November 11th.

At the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month...
we remember.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Ugh. Fish.

Nasty little buggers.

Hiya boys & girls - it's your old pal Scrubbie.

Gotch'er clickin' finger ready? Ok - CLICK HERE. When you do - you'll be taken back to a posting from - oh, I dunno - a while back anyway. There... you'll learn that Scrubbie - he don't like fish. Go ahead - click away. Just be sure to hit the BACK button or whatever the hell it is up there. I'll wait for ya.

Back? Ok. Read on.

I wont go on and on about the devil spawn. Not again. Suffice to say - eeeeewwwwwww. No. Wait... I should use capital letters. EEEEEEEWWWWWWW. Oh - and an exclamation mark. EEEEEWWWWWWW! More? EEEEEWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Better? Good. (always here to oblige ya'll)

You get the idea. Scrub... he don't like fish.

Today, Scrub had a lunch date. OOOOOOOHHHHHHHH!

Oh, good heavens - it was a lunch date with a business colleague. All chit chat about marketing and job descriptions and interviews. Nothin' like lunch dates with the Wife when we get googly-eyed at each other over salad and sandwiches. They're much more fun.

Anyway - lunch date. Business colleague.

And - we went to the Mandarin restaurant. Been? It's like this Chinese food buffet that stretches on for a block. Insane. Tasty. But insane. Where else can you chow down on Sweet N Sour chicken balls, onion rings, potato salad and pizza at the same time? Seriously. Where?

So, I get there and a very very polite Kimono wearin' young'en escorts me to a table.

Plunk. There I am. At the table.

Oh - sure... nice table. Clean. Cutlery nicely laid out. Tablecloth.

Very pleasant chap comes over to bring me a glass of H2O. I ask for a Diet Cola with a wedge of lemon. The usual.

Sounds all groovy, don't it?

Well - here is where the horror begins.

I am seated directly beside this big-ass tank of devil spawn. Ooooglie buggers too.

I mean this tank is a mid-wall height to ceiling tank that is clear on both sides and serves as a gal-dang wall 'tween Scrub's eatin' room and the next eatin' room. A WALL! OF DEVIL SPAWN! A WHOLE WALL!

See what I mean? In the pic there? Ugh.

I calls the Wife on one of them newfangled cordless, wireless, magic phones.

"Wife!" I says.

"Hi Boo" she says.

"Wife!" I says. "I am sittin' here at the restaurant beside a gal-dang wall of Devil Spawn. EEEEEWWWWW."

"Well - why don't you move to another table?" she says.

Uh-Oh. Logic.

Logic has been introduced into an otherwise completely scattered, ADHD cluttered, Gemini dual-personality influenced male brain. What the frack?

Heart starts racing. A single bead of sweat glistens off my brow. Damnit. Logic.

"No" I says. "Can't do that" I says.

"Ok. Whatever." she says.


See - I am man. There's no moving to another table just 'cause Devil Spawn is ogling me.

No - there'd have to be something pretty serious to alert the staff that I needed to move.

Structural damage to the building that I noticed, perhaps? Structural damage that could potentially cause death? Even that - borders on not being a good reason to move. No. I am stuck there. No getting around it.

Deep breath.

Oops - here comes the colleague. Can't do nothin' about it now.

I stand up. Extend my hand and take firm grip of his. We swap greetings. We sit.

I very carefully turn 17.5 degrees to the right so that Devil Spawn is not in my direct line of vision.
The colleague doesn't notice. Phew.

This, my friends, is how I must endure the next 120 minutes.


Monday, November 9, 2009

Advice from Scrubbie. I love to help.

"How's the weather up there, eh?"

'Ello, 'ello kids. Scrub at the keyboard. How are ya?

Here's a travel tip for all you planning on a Canadian adventure. It's pretty easy to get along here in the Great White. For the most part, we're an easy goin' bunch. We're not hard to get along with. And, you don't have much to worry about in terms of mingling in and amongst us.

First - be sure to stop in for coffee at Tim Hortons. They are easy to find. Just go down any major street and within a couple of blocks - you'll see one. Stop in. That's where you'll find most of us. In there.

You need to know directions? Places to go? Things to do? Lodging for the night? Go ahead - ask us. Only too happy to share.

Feeling a little nervous about striking up a chat with a total stranger? No problem. Here, my friends, I will share with you perfectly good ice-breakers that will warm the heart of any true Canuck.

1. "Did you see the hockey game last night? What was the final score?" (Don't worry about which game specifically. The truth is that there is hockey going on 365 days a year 'round here. Regardless the town you're in... regardless the time of year... regardless who you speak to - there IS a hockey game to talk about.)
2. "I can't believe it's {insert day i.e. Monday, Wednesday, Friday etc}." We here in Canada are always... and I mean always astonished when we wake up in the morning that it is whatever day it is. If it's a Monday - we cant believe the weekend went by. If it's Friday - we cant believe the weekend is upon us. It's nice actually. Being astonished like this. Every day. Always exciting. In Canada, our preference is to have just one day. All the time. Every day. Saturday.
3. "What's your favourite bagel?" Sure - Timmies has doughnuts, biscuits, soup and sandwiches. But - it's the bagel that rocks our world. Everything bagel. Toasted with herb & garlic cream cheese. Yum. Or Cinnamon Raisin... toasted with butter. Just don't order from the corner of Belmont and Glasgow in Kitchener. They suck.
4. The final tip - and the best tip: "Can you believe the weather, eh?" Now kids... take Scrub's word for it. If nothing else - learn this phraseology. Black or white. Short or tall. Fat or thin. Man or woman. Hunter or fisherman. It doesn't matter. "Can you believe the weather, eh?" is the one phrase... no... make that the ONLY phrase you need to know in order to cut through a crowd and make a friend here in the Great White. Be sure to dedicate a good 5 minutes to the ensuing conversation. Yes - the conversation isn't really so much of a conversation as it is a verbal tennis match of single words or short sentences resulting in... well... resulting in absolutely nothing. Expect something like:

YOU: Can you believe the weather, eh?
THEM: I know!
YOU: Beautiful! (or Snowy, or Cold, or Rainy... you get the idea)
THEM: Ya. Too much.
YOU: Well, it could be worse.
THEM: That's fer shure. Could be (colder, wetter, snowier, nicer etc. again... you get the idea)
YOU: Then we'd be askin' for this.
THEM: Got that right.
YOU: At least it's not... (insert anything that is worse than what the current condition is)
THEM: That's fer shure.
YOU: Hey - how do I find the local trading post? (or whatever you are lookin for)

At this point - the Timmies patron and his or her pals now have accepted you into the circle and recognize you as a trusted friend. You will receive directions. They will also likely add "have a good day, eh" at the end. Listen for this phrase - you'll hear it regardless of any accent you might find in the country. This is your cue that the conversation is done and you are now free to travel again.

Don't worry if you didn't catch all the directions or instructions - there's another Timmies only minutes away and a fresh batch of Canucks, ready to lend a hand.

Just mention the weather.

Saturday, November 7, 2009

"I know it was you Fredo. You broke my heart."


Evening boys & girls. It's yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?

Soooo.... The Wife is scrappin' outa town. The Kid - at Bing & Bong's place. Just Scrub and the lunatic dog at the igloo tonight.

Spent the day today soakin' up some of the last nice weather I think we'll be havin. Was outside beginning the shut down process for the shack 'fore the snow flies and the temp drops to -100.

Honest to goodness kids - there really ain't nothin to report. Sad, eh?

You'd think with the igloo to myself, I'd be havin' a wing ding or somethin' goin on. But nooooo. Had a date with the washin' machine. Me and the kitchen sink spent some time together. Oh - and the vacuum and I shared a rather intimate moment. Huh? OH C'MON... you know darn well what I mean. Sheesh. Filthy monkees.

So - tonight, Scrubs fillin his glass with golden nectar that is Crown Royal. And, in between folding some sheets and towels, he's puttin' his feet up and catching The Godfather II on the tube.

Chatted with the Wife earlier. She's havin a good time with gal pal the Joodster. The two of them with their scrappin' biz - In A Pinch Designs... just secured themselves another wholesale account. Some store somewhere that's gonna be carryin' their stuff. Not sure, off hand, where - but somewhere out there - ya'll are gonna be treated to some kewl paper and glue traditional scrappin'.

Oh - speakin' of scrappin... here's a little digi somethin'-er-other that Scrub put together.

As ya'll might recall, the Bro-In-Law, JR, brought over his wee fella, Whoagun, for the traditional Halloween visit. The squirt was dressed up in one of his favourite TV character costumes. So - Scrub thought "why not go all out?" hehe

I just love throwin the kids into scenes like this.

WooHoo Photoshop.


I consent. Give it to me.

Howdy kids. Scrubbie here. How are ya'll?

So - Scrub's still here.

Pumped full of Swine Flu juice. Arm is gall-darn'd sore. And, things are just tickety-boo.

Ok - for those who are pending gettin' the shot... It's not that bad. Really.

Typical shot in the arm. Left deltoid, intramuscular... just in case you were wondering.

Started earlier in the day - had to stand in line. As you can see - I was #498. I was aiming for #500. But - close enough. Stood in line for an hour and a half to get that wristband. Round these parts, all Scrubs and Scrubettes are being offered up the shot for free. This week - it's those at higher risk of complications if you were to happen to pick up H1N1. Scrub fits into that category. So - stood in line. Got my wristband. Left the clinic for a while. Went back around 5:30pm. Was in and out in about 40 mins. Smooth as silk. Everyone was just as nice as could be. Really well organized. Yep - was nothin but a positive experience.

Shot's a little different. Apparently, they're using shark liver oil as a suspension (or somethin like that). Makes the serum a little thicker than a typical shot. You can feel it. But - again... ain't that bad. Holy smoly though - talk about a sore arm afterwards. Feels like one helluva punch and bruise.

After we got the shot (the Wife and the Kid ended up comin' with. I picked up wristbands for them earlier in the day as well. Yep - they were "soooo surprised". hehehe.) (oh - and ya, they are in a higher risk category as well). Anyway... after we got the shot... nurse lady told us to make sure we move our arms. Keep 'em moving. Because the serum is thicker, she said, it can really stiffen up.

So - the Wife... came up with "choo-choo" and moving the arm. Like a train. Get it? The arm thingies of the train that makes the wheels go 'round. Get it?

The three of us - keep goin around everywhere - "Choo-Choo".

Oh ya. Not only seems to help - but gives ya a good case of the giggles too.

Thursday, November 5, 2009

"You're gonna feel a pinch."

Lord help me.

Morning kids. It's a squeamish Scrubbie here this morning.

Yes, m'darlin's - today is the day.

H1N1 shot today. Today. This afternoon. Only hours from now.

The Bro-In-Law, JR - ain't comin' with me.

The Wife - abandoned me.

The Kid - we're keepin him in school this aft instead of yanking him for the shot.

The Lunatic Dog - they wont do her.

I'm all alone.


Well - time to grow a pair. Buck up. Roll up the sleeve. And pass out like a man.

Wish me luck.

Ok - so my nephew Whogun stopped by Halloween night. The Bro-In-Law, JR brought the little fart over for a quick visit. See him there? With the Kid. Awwwwww. Cute, eh?

Like the background paper? Hop on over to my pal at Midnight Scrapping. Click away kids! Click away!

So - providing I survive the horror of this afternoon's shot in the arm... this weekend, 'da boys at Scrub's are all solo. That's right. The Wife and her gal pals are scrappin' outa town. It's a weekend affair too. Cartoons, chicken wings, pizza - here we come! WoooooooHooooooooo!

Alrighty - at this very moment - outside the window of Scrub's igloo - it is snowing.

Yes. That's right.



This means, of course, that the Wife is gonna have to wrap her scrappin' stuff pretty good in plastic to survive the trip to her Scrappy weekend by dog sled. Wouldn't want all that paper gettin' wet, would we?

Wednesday, November 4, 2009

It's the Wednesday Mash-Up!!!!!!!!!

It is hump day.

(avoiding dirty thoughts. avoiding dirty thoughts. avoiding dirty thoughts)

Greetings kids. Yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How are ya?

Alrighty - it's Wednesday which means it's the Wednesday edition of Scrubbie. Which means it's the Wednesday Mash-Up.

(I know - it sounds like every Wednesday is the Wednesday Mash-Up. When in fact, I have never really done a Wednesday Mash-Up.)

(Frankly - not even sure what it means)

Reminds me - mashed potatoes tonight. That'd be good. The Kid loves mashed spuds. Whipped. Not chunky. And gravy. The Kid loves mashed with gravy. Anything that goes with it is secondary.

He also loves mashed spuds with chunks of cheddar cheese mixed in it. And bacon bits. Cheddar-bacon mashed spuds. That have been whipped with sour cream and butter in it.

Focus Scrubbie. Focus.

Ok - so the Wednesday Mash-Up. Nothing to do with mashed potatoes.

H1N1. Vaccination. Did I mention this? Did I mention that Scrubbie is a pansy. A woosie. A funkda-doodle. When it comes to defending my family against the forces of evil - Scrub is practically in tights and a cape. SUPERSCRUB! But - wave a .5mm shiny silver barrel in front of me and I am laid out flat like Superdude and kryptonite.

I dont like needles. Syringes. Hypodermics. Gawd. Dont like em at all. I had this one nurse once who was doing the injection thing call it a Happy-Stab. Who the hell makes up a name like Happy-Stab?

And, as I have a pancreas that is on vacation - diabetes and all... means I really should go get stabbed.

The crowds are pretty thick 'round these parts to get the shot. And, tomorrow is my day. Argh. Hopefully my dear Bro-In-Law JR is gonna get stabbed too. He'll protect me.

Hey - speaking of TV...

Me and the Wife watched the remake of "V" last night.

Remember - in the 1980's?

Oh ya.... the hair. the shoulder pads.

This was smokin hot Diana - one of the leaders of The Visitors.

Here to make a buffet of the human race. And, the ones that were'nt tasty enough to put on the menu - slavery.

Yes.... every boys dream.

Then... we flash forward to 2009...

And, here we have smokin' hot Anna - leader of The Visitors.

Here to make a buffet of the human race. And, the ones that aren't tasty enough to put on the menu - slavery.

Yes.... every boys dream.

Scrubbie loves progress.

So - the show - not too bad. Not bad at all.

This Anna - she's kinda a creepy good looking. Most intriguing.

We're looking forward to seeing how this all plays out. Hopefully - this doesnt turn out to be a disaster remake. Sometimes they are. Ummmm... Knight Rider anyone?

I dont know what to put in this whole Wednesday Mash-Up thing. Sounded like a good idea.

Hey - that reminds me...

Here's another layout of the Kid.

Yes - I have been having some fun with Halloween Layouts.

Lets just say I was infected with this festive time of year.

This was the Kid last year.

Surely - the Wednesday Mash-Up could have some kind of direction. Focus. Theme. I really gotta think here.

OH! Let me just start this next sentence with one word: Ugh.

Ugh. Yeseterday, the Weather Witchdoctor tells us that snow is a real possibility.

Say it with me kids: Ugh.

The Wife is out of ink in her printer again. We go through ink like water here. Lots of printing of instructions for Scrappin' kits. Lots.

I love bacon & eggs. Breakfast. Dinner. Yesterday - had bacon & eggs for lunch. I love bacon & eggs.

I don't love needles. Syringes. Hypodermics. Happy Stab - as one very psychotic nurse once called it.

Ok - well... I don't know. This Wednesday Mash-Up thing. I don't know.

Maybe not a good idea.

I'll think on it.

By the way... my favourite colour is blue.

I dont like cats.

K. I'm done.


Not boxers.

Today anyway.


Tuesday, November 3, 2009

My Space has been invaded. And I ain't talkin' about the website.

My keyboard smells like roses.

Morning Scrublings. It's yer ol pal Scrubbie here.

What's all this then?

Keyboard is smelling sweet.

Mouse is polished.

Screen is not marred with beer stains.

Somethin's not quite right.

Wait. Wait just a minute. Wait just a cotton-picken darn minute!

Things have been womanized. Big time.

Alright. Let me take a look around here.

C Drive. Yep - things are in order.

Documents folder. Yep - ok.

Pictures. OH! Found it.

Hmmmm. Yep - just as I thought.

The Wife.


See - The Wife - last night was in need of a little creative outlettin'. As ya'll know - m'darlin is a paper scrapbookin genius. Famous across the Great White and even down with some of our neighbours in the Red White and Blue. Heck - the Wife has even done creatin' for folks in Japan.
But - last night, instead of draggin' out 5.27 metric tonnes of supplies to whip together a scrappy page - the Wife grabbed hold of the 'ol Toshiba here and went mouse happy putting together a digi-page.

Sure - some fellas would feel threatened. Ya know - the women folk treading into man territory. Taking over what little he has left to call his own. Kinda like puttin air fresheners in the garage.

Not me.

I am completely secure.

Now, if you'll excuse me. Scrub's gonna gonna go redorate
the scrappin' room here at the igloo with his collection of hubcaps. Place needs a mans touch.

While I'm gone - check out what the Wife digitized.

Nice, eh?

Monday, November 2, 2009

Thanks for the Blog

Merci, as they say in the other official language of the Great White North.

Afternoon boys & girls - tiz I - your ol pal Scrub.

JR - the Bro-In-Law. Ya'll remember him, right? Ripped. Dashing. An arse that just dont quit? Ya - him.

Well, JR has graciously given Scrub yet another blog entry.

See - my dear bro-in-law, whom I love very much, is a wonderful man. Good to his fam. Faithful. Caring. And, generously gives Scrub tidbits to blog about.

Take for example... just a few weeks ago, the dear fella gives Scrub a call on the hooter and the following conversation ensues:

Scrub: Hello?

JR: Hey.

Scrub: JR!

JR: Scrubbie!

Scrub: Whassup?

JR: Nothin'

Scrub: Kewl.

JR: Hey

Scrub: What?

JR: Guess what I'm dressing up as?

Scrub: What?

JR: Zorro

Scrub: How does your boss at work feel about this?

JR: No - for Halloween

Scrub: Oh. Kewl.


Scrub: Ya know, JR... The whole "Zorro" and the whole "The Gay Blade" thing... this is prime fodder for the ol blog, ya know.

JR: Ya. I know.


So, as you can well imagine - for the past number of weeks, I have sat in antici.... .... .... .... pation. (homage to Rocky Horror there).

And, as sure as the sun rises in the morn - my dear Bro-In-Law, in all his fabulousness... adorned with fake guy-hooker boots and all... arrived in his blacks and cape to strut his stuff.

Wanna see?

Oh - there ya go kids.

Ain't that awesome!

Personally, I think this is a good look for the 'ol boy.

Bein' all into "one-up-manship" - next year,
Scrub's gonna wear an outfit as well.

Wanna see?

Scroll down please.

I see you shiver with antici .... .... .... .... pation.

Sunday, November 1, 2009

I'm Just A Sweet Transvestite

No doubt you are all raising an eyebrow right 'bout now.

Heydee ho boys & girls. It's yer ol pal Scrub here. How are ya?

No. In today's posting title, I was not referring to a fundamental shift in my sexual identity. No. Sheesh.

But, I gotta tell ya kids - there's just something not right about sittin' at home and watching. Just not right.

I refer, of course, to a home viewing of THE ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW.

At home - there's no throwing of toast. Or rice. Or the squirting up into the air of water.

At home - there's no crowds shouting obscenities at the screen.

At home - there's no dressing in garters, stockings, bling'd out monster heels and applying sweet glorious ruby red lipstick, delicious blue eye shadow and a string of honkin' huge pearls. Well not regularly. Thursday nights don't count.

All that stuff - only happens at the movie-house. And, it is such an important part of the whole Rocky experience.

Have you been?

Alright - if you haven't - you really must. Seriously. Find a showing at a theatre near you. Don't worry about anything - just go. Enjoy. Then come back. Trust me.

But - last evening, me, the Wife and our good friend Hurricane... (you remember Hurricane don't you? Stops to pee at a stranger's house. Target of voodoo practitioners? Ya - her) So - we all watched Rocky on TV last night.

I never really knew some of the dialog.

However, despite all the extras that normally go along with a showing of Rocky - I did find myself smiling for an hour and a half whist watching it.

Lets face it - Tim Curry as Frankie, Richard O'Brien as Riff Raff - how can you not smile each and every time they are on screen?

And, of course, yesterday was October 31st. Which means - Halloween.

The Kid and his punk friends - they got together to go and do a little Trick or Treatin'. Came back. Sugared up. And, there was a sleepover at Scrub's.

Scary movies. Candy. Late night Macaroni & Cheese.

As usual - good times.

Friday, October 30, 2009

The Night Before

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary, Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door...

Goooood Eeeev'ning. Itssss Ssssscrubbie here kidlings.

Well ya - there's been many an incarnation of scary-boo-ness 'round the Scrub shack lo these many years. I think the first round for the kid - the Wife and me cut a hole in a pillowcase. Draped it over the Kid's head and badda-boom badda-bing - instant widdle ghost. I'm sure there is a pic floating around somewhere of him like that. I think that was back in the days of hard-copy only pics and our copy might have gone up in smoke with the fire. I'll have to check around with the fam and see if they have a copy I can digitize for future keepin'.

And, as the years passed, and the costumes came and went - one thing always remained. A good time was had by all.

In recent years, the kid bein' the little social butterfly he is, always has grabbed a punk pal or two to do some trick or treatin' with.

The pic there? Ya - that was last year. Punk pal Bobby and other punk pal Happy Meal - they joined the Kid for an evening of sugar.

This year? Well - bein the boy is a teen now... we'll see how the wanderin' around the neighbourhood thing goes. The Wife and me - we've never really had a problem with the older kids comin' around for a sugar fix at Halloween. Only when they are rappin' on the door later in the evening that it makes us cringe.

One thing for sure though - the Kid is havin a couple of buds over at the Scrub shack for a sleepover tomorrow night.

Hmmmmmm. Now that I am thinking of it. Punk pals. Teenagers. Sugar. And lots of it. Sleepover. Scrub's place.

Yes - I'll have to hit the local trading post to pick up a new lock so I can bolt the door to the engine room downstairs closed. That'll keep the little sugar-high testosterones contained.

Lets hope, anyway.

Thursday, October 29, 2009

"Where did you leave your hand?"

Look at them!

Howdy boys & girls - its Scrubbie 2.0 on a Thursday.

So, Scrub spent a couple 'a days talkin about when the Kid came into the world. And - look! 13 years later.

As ya'll may know - our lad was born missin' a few digits on one hand. Officially, he's an "amputee". Here, in the Great White, we have this fantastico organization called WAR AMPS. And WAR AMPS has this thing called the CHAMP program. CHild AMPutee. Get it?

Anyway - this past weekend, the CHAMP program had its annual CHAMP Seminar. It's a weekend where a whole whacka CHAMPS and their families all get together and there's sessions of info about prosthetics, body image, dealing with teasing at school, getting jobs etc etc etc. Honest to goodness - it is simply an amazing weekend.

The Kid - really... for the most part... doesn't have many issues to deal with. At school, he's got a pretty good group of pals that like him for who he is. The hand thing - not much of a problem. Every now and then though - it does get to him.

But, at these Seminars and with his amputee pals - even the Kid says he gets the giggles being able to hang out with other kids "like me". When they are all together, the fact that one of them is missing a few fingers - not a big deal. The fact that one of them has no legs - not a big deal. The fact that one of them doesnt have any limbs at all - not a big deal. They have fun with each other. They talk about amputation. They compare stories. They come up with solutions. They have a great time.

New families come to these things all the time too. Sometimes, the kids with the new families are a bit older and have just discovered the CHAMP program. Often though, the new families come with their itty bitty kiddies. The greatest thing is seeing these new families get thrown into this world and talking to them and watching them, over the course of the weekend, realize that their own widdle one who is missing an arm or a leg or arms or legs or arms and legs - they'll grow up to be just fine. Yep - there are challenges, but they'll grow up to be just fine.

It was particularly funny this weekend with one incident. See... there was another group at the hotel as well. This young hockey club was there. (welcome to Canada, eh. Always a hockey club on hand somewhere.) Anyway - young hockey club there. After the sessions and programming is done for the day...the kids always love hitting the swimming pool.

So, we were there. At the pool. And all our CHAMP families where there. 120 families at this thing. With their kids. And, we're at the pool.

Now, when you're dealing with amputees, some of them have swimming legs and swimming arms and such. A lot of the kids though - they like to drop the prosthetics and hop in the pool. So... there they all are. In the pool. And, around the pool... on the deck... there are tons and tons of arms and legs and hands.... just lying around all over the place. It really is quite the sight.

So - a few of these junior hockey players stop in to have a swim. They come to the door. I was there. Watching them. These young hockey players - they see all these arms and legs and hands lying around all over the place. Their eyes... literally drop out of their sockets and bounce on the floor like golfballs. Their jaws - hit the ground with a thud. Yes folks - hysterical!

The pics there in the layout. The Wife and The Kid havin a bit of lovin' time. Nice, eh?

Crazy 'ol gal.

Oh that Mamma Scrub!

Evening kids. It's Scrubbie! Yeah!

Ok - now it's getting embarrassing. I mean - sure Scrub loves Mom and Mom loves her Scrub. But, seriously... she has GOT to stop.

Apparently she made some new friends.


Sunday, October 25, 2009

The One Handed Wonder

"No wait.... let me guess."

Evening Kids. Yer 'ol pal Scrub here.

Been a helluva weekend. Tell ya more laer.

First though - thought I'd close out the birthin' story with "the day after" note.

So - went to see the Kid as he is now a couple 'a hours old. I goes into the swaddlin' room and there before me are a few of these ooglie, wrinkly lumps. Oh - c'mon... don't be shocked... ya gotta agree that most newborns are pretty ooglie. Heads all wonky and such. Not ooglie enough to make ya wanna shove 'em back in. But, ya know what I mean.

Anyway - I goes in and says to the nurse "Hiya. I'm Scrubbie. Here to see the Kid."

"Sure" says the nurse. "Know which one is yours?"

"No. Wait... let me guess..." I says. So - I goes and takes a look. Well - damnd things all look the same. "Ya know.. it'd be a helluva lot easier if I could see the hands. Mine's only got one."

Anyway - got the kid - gave him a cuddle - and that was the first of many cuddles.

And... here we are... 13 years later. You'll agree... on one hand - 13 YEARS!!!! On the other hand - in a word: Whoosh.

Oh - was gonna write more kids -but Scrub's whacked tonight. It's been a helluva weekend and this old boy needs to do the feet up thing, the cuppa tea thing and the mindless TV thing.

Yep - world of zombie-vision... here I come.

Friday, October 23, 2009

Happy Birthday

Holy Frack - I have a teenager at home!

Howdy kids. Old, frail, completely lost in the dark ages, and father of a teen... it's your 'ol pal Scrubbie here.

It's official boys & girls. The Kid - 13 today. Happy Birthday my son. When it comes to young'ens m'boy - you are the best! Your mommy and I love you tons. Happy Birthday.

So - last night - a little before midnight - we left the Wife not feelin' any pain. She was uber-tired. The kid was refusing to go slip-slidin' on out. Both the Wife and the as yet unborn Kid were both startin' to be a little distressed. And the fetus-fetchers had decided to use a Ginsu knife to snatch the kid. Oh - that's graphic. Should put a public service announcement on here.

So - the clock ticks forward and we are now Wednesday October 23, 1996. This was, in fact, "due date". The magicians with their magic ultrasound wands told us ages ago that this was going to be due date. Turns out they were right.

The clock strikes 2am and the fetus-fetchers come to get us. Scrub dons his doctorin' outfit so he can go in with the Wife while the squirt is brought out. And... once again - wont get into details... but ya know what goes on.

So - we're in there. And - yoink! There's the kid!

Somethin weird goin on though. The doc - she was lookin'.... well.... lookin strange. Her doctorin' partner and her were lookin at each other weird.

The kid - was taken over to the little "warm the fella up" table on the other side of the room. There - there was a bunch of folks givin' him the once over.

Somethin's not right.

Then, one of the nurses looked back at the Wife and me. "What's going on?" the wife and I say at the same time to each other.

Oh - here she comes. Little Scrub all swaddled up. This nurse was so very nice. Leaned down to us and showed us the kids face for the first time.

"He is beautiful!" she says... "There's just one little thing..." and she shows us his hand. "He doesnt have fingers on this side." she says. "If it's ok with you - we'd like to just check him out to make sure everything is ok." We said "sure". So - off he went back to the other side of the room with the whole team there and they gave the kid the once over.

In the meantime - the Wife is bein attended to. She isn't doin well. Again - spare ya the details.

Bout 20 mins later - nurse brings the boy back and tells us that things seem to be OK. There's a couple of things going on that put the kid into the intensive care unit - but overall - things are good.

So - there we are - by now, it's 3:30am. The Kid - all swaddled up and snoozin. The Wife - zonked and catchin some ZZZZ's. Scrub - still awake and in no way ready to sleep. So, I grabs a cuppa tea and go for a stroll.

The kid was born at a pretty major hospital here in Ontario. It's always a busy bustlin' place. But - not so much so at 3:30am. I was through the main floor of the hospital - not a soul. Out the main entrance - not a soul. Across the parking lot and over the parking garage - not a soul. And, despite the hospital being on the main drag of a major city - I stand right out there and as far as the eye could see - not a soul. It was really like some higher force pressed "pause" on life so Scrub would have a few seconds to catch his breath. I took a sip of my tea. I took a deep breath. And, I think to myself...

"I have a son. I have a family."

At this very moment - life... would never the be same.

Thursday, October 22, 2009

Make it a Double Dose, please.

"I dont wanna do this anymore!"

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.


Phew - we made it!

... the story continues

Morning boys & girls - it's yer ol pal Scrubbie here!

So - where was I? Oh ya... the Wife. The pending Kid. The fetus-fetchers. Got it.

The Wife and me - high-tailed it to the doctorin' facility without incident. No ERBDK needed.

Arrived. Went in.

"Good morning" I says. "I am Scrubbie. This is The Wife. We are here to have a Kid." It was all very orderly.

"Good morning Mr. Scrubbie, Mrs. Scrubbie" the lady says. "Mrs. Scrubbie - why don't you go in there and put on this little gown..." and the lady points to the fetus-fetchin' room.

We head in.

In the room beside us - there was another woman who was in the middle of *gulp... deliverin' her kid. And, that woman beside us in the middle of *gulp... deliverin' her kid....was a screamer. No other way to put it. She was a screamer. Not happy about childbirth. Not at all.

'Course - don't blame her. I mean - seriously. A kid. Out 'that' thing? No frackken way.

But...the important thing to know is... me and the wife - we're only separated from Screamer by a wall. Thin little wall.

The Wife - gawd lov'er - she went through that woman thing of "oh sure... lets go natural". And, was pretty much all set on it. Until Screamer.

Out of the Loo she came - eyes wide as saucers. jaw on the ground. sweat pourin off her brow. "I'm NOT going through THAT!" she says. "WHERE'S THE DRUGS!?"

Anyway - the Kid was still not due for a few hours - so the Wife and me made our way down to the cafeteria to grab a little breakfast. It was nice. Quiet morning. The smell of yummy stuff wafting through the place. It was nice.

Scrub - good 'ol bacon and eggs. Yum Yum. The Wife - fluffy pancakes. This was a mistake.

See - the Wife - she dribbled nothin more than a single drop of golden goodness on her frock. Just one small smackerin' of maple syrup. True Canadian nectar. But, for the next 42 hours - that wee dash of otherwise deliciousness was a permanent olfactory presence and lingered with the Wife through the whole day and night. My friends - The Wife... not a happy camper about this. Not one little bit.

We finish up our breakky and make our way back up to the room. The 'ol labour pains - comin' on a little stronger now. Time for some intervention. "Nurse!"

The Wife decides she wants to try Transcutaneous Electrical Nerve Stimulation. Fancy, eh? We got all the good stuff here in the Great White. So - this TENS machine - basically tries to trick your body into thinking that there's no pain.

Need a review? The Wife - she'll tell ya.... DAMN'D THING DOESN'T WORK.

She had that thing cranked up so high, hair was burnin, skin was rippling and smoke was comin out her ears. If you stuck a light bulb in her mouth - would have lit up the room.

Then - the worst part... the nurse (that poor woman) made the mistake of suggesting that maybe taking a walk would help.

I'm not entirely sure. It was all a blur. But, I am fairly confident that the Wife turned a shade of... well... it was definitely a shade of red. And, then there was somethin' about "you want me to walk to make this pain go away?" or something to that effect. Now.. the nurse wasn't really all that shocked by the Wife's reaction to her suggestion that a stroll down the hallway was the sure fire method to bodily bliss. What really shook the nurse was when the devil horns sprouted outa the Wife's forehead and fire blew out her nostrils. Ya - I think that's what did it.

Oh - just kiddin. We took a walk.

No - didn't help.

The story continues...

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

The day is fast approaching

"Hi Honey... I think my water broke."

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

Uhhhh - What's yer name?

"Please Sir, may I have some more?"

Morning kids - tiz Scrubbie here at the keyboard this morning. How are ya'll?

Oh - remember that line from "Oliver!" - then Mr. Bumble says "WHAT? MORE?" hehe - oh ya, I remember that well.

That's kinda how I feel today.

See - as you know, Scrub does this charitable organization thingy. And, being as there really isn't a magic money tree (damnit) - we have to go and ask for a few dollars here and there in order to do things for the kiddies around the community.

Well - today is one of those days that Scrub has to go in front of some folk that have cheque signing on their minds and tell them why it's a great idea of sign one of those cheques for this particular charity.

Oh sure - sounds easy. But - Scrub's never really done that before - so he is, well, ummm... kind nervous about it all. Specially since Scrub's goin in askin for more than 10 bucks. Lots more.

But - I'll just throw on extra underarm stuff, make sure the 'ol adult diaper is clean and head on in. Wish me luck. Oh - and make sure the ice cube tray is full, cause Scrub's gonna need a bevvy afterwards.

Hey - did I mention that Scrub's pappy is back from from the Health Hilton? Yep - home, safe and sound. Feelin' pretty good. Everything is back to normal.

Well - as normal as it gets 'round here.

And - bein as digiscrappin has been fast and furious these last few days - here's another little somethin' somethin'.

It's a few of the fam. Not all of 'em.

The Wife aint in the pic. She was hacking up a lung that day.

But - Cuzin Dolphin is in there. His folks - Uncle John (everyone has an Uncle John it seems) (oh - and it's HIS family that are the country bumpkin folk from the hills of West Virginny.) (don't take offense to that remark. he sure doesn't. self described, as a matter of fact) (oh - and for anyone from West Virginny who may be browsing the 'ol Scrubberoo today - here's a little evidence of Uncle John's origins - as heard in this phrase: "Lord willin' and the creek don't rise!" Sound familiar?)

Ummmmm - where was I? Oh ya - the fam. So - Uncle John, Auntie Jen (Scrub's mental connection), The Kid is there. So is Scrubby Mom and Scrubby Pop. Hey - off to the right - that's Scrub's baby bro. I don't quite know what to call him. Not yet anyway.

I'll have to come up with something.

That can be shared on the interweb.


Sunday, October 18, 2009

Scrubbie Shares - Tool Time

Morning Boys & Girls! It's your 'ol pal Scrubbie here on a frosty, chilly, sunny Sunday morning in the Great White North.

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.

Oh - and as usual - my Terms of Use: Only use when enjoying a cool, refreshing beverage. Ummmm - that's about it.

So, without further ado... you can get the DOWNLOAD GIGGLES HERE!

Who loves ya? SCRUBBIE!