anger frustration sorrow sadness  It’s not fair!

My dear friend, who has been battling cancer over the last year and a bit has just been told she has maybe a month, two at most.  The cancer has spread to her brain, and I guess that pretty much means the friend I love so much will be gone soon. 

She has fought so damned hard to live, and this latest is more than just a bump in the road, it’s a friggin landmine.  She had to argue to have a mastectomy (!), as there were indications that the cancer was in her spine and other areas, although there were no symptoms.  She dealt with the surgery – even with the hospital, in it’s wisdom, sending her home THE SAME DAY OF SURGERY with a strong and cheerful attitude.

She puked her way through chemo, and smiled and stayed strong.

We went to New York for the Westminster Dog Show, allowing her to cross that one off her bucket list.  She went to Aruba with her friend Teresa.  We were making plans to hit  Hawaii this winter.

Dammit – it just ain’t fair.


Settling In

It feels like home now. The fireplaces work great – and oddly enough, 72F with a fireplace (gas) is warmer than 72F with the heatpump system. Go figure.
As the house is not really a novelty (wait until spring and garden setting starts!), my mind wanders off on tangents. In my chosen life/profession/hobby, I have many gay/lesbian/transgender friends, but, because they are simply FRIENDS, I think nothing of their sexuality, no more than I think of the sexuality of my “straight” (gawd, I hate that term, it implies that people who are not must be bent/twisted, and that ain’t so) friends.
One of the current buzz topics seems to be gender bullying or gendered violence. I have to admit, I had no clue what on earth that actually meant, until I read this: It made me think, and re-evaluate some of the things I’ve taken for granted.

December already??!!!

Wow – it’s December 1st and I can not believe the year has flown by. The last two months have been consumed by moving house, and I am not sure I’ll ever recover. I have never done a major move, and hope to not have to do it again in a hurry, either that, or to do it really soon, before I finish unpacking!
You have to understand that in the last 3 1/2 decades, I have changed residences a total of 5 times (not counting this move). First – out of my parents and in with an older, more worldly girlfriend. She had all the furniture, so I moved my guinea pigs, clothes and car. Second move: same roomie, her furniture and boyfriends did the move, I was at work. Both super easy moves. Third move: own apt, semi furnished. Bought a kitchen table and couch from the outgoing tennant, so, just clothes and car as well as some kitchen stuff.
Fourth move – into boyfriends’ batchelor apartment. He hated my furniture, and the guy taking over my old place loved it as it was, and bought everything – so, again, moved just clothes and car (the guinea pigs had stayed with earlier room-mate). Fifth move – I was away at a show, boyfriend (now husband) moved the contents of our tiny apartment while I was gone, and it didn’t take long. Are you seeing a pattern here?
Flash forward 20 years of domestic acquisition (aka hoarding and collecting). A kajillion boxes, an unrealistic deadline for moving truck day and way too much crap that was left unpacked. Thank God for opting to move prior to the end of the month, and being able to come back to clean and finish up. I tossed out more stuff than I knew I had, found stuff that I had forgotten and have now made a resolve that I will, over how ever long it takes, unpack one box per day and if it is something that I haven’t needed in 2 years, toss it, sell it or donate it.

Someday, I’ll be able to say I’m unpacked, and there are no boxes left. Lord knows when that will be, and he isn’t telling me.


Some things are just a given – you will always be older than your younger siblings, that copious quantities of red wine will result in, at minimum, a headache.
Likewise, where I live. My Other Half and I are renters, not movers. We shared his apartment for 11 years, and found this house (two blocks away). We’ve been here for over 20 years, and I am sure the owners thought they were going to have to will us to their children! Well, times change, and Vancouver is no longer my city of choice. Too noisy, crowded, crime-ridden and expensive. so, we were offered a sweet deal on Vancouver Island, in a wonderful, growing community with not a whole lot of people (their version of rush hour is regular Vancouver traffic).
Now for the packing, and, more importantly, pitching. Memories into the trash. Stuff that I “might” use someday – gone. If I haven’t used it in 2 years, out it goes. It’s painful.


One of the great things about being a gadget freak is that it takes very little to make me happy. Electronics send me over the moon, and major purchases of electronics? Well, lets just say that a cigarette and a smile might be a satisfactory ending (or it would have been if I smoked).

I’ve just finished putting my photo viewing station network together. As all the “in the know” types wanted to sell me a system equivalent to a Ferrari when all I needed was a Volkswagen, it’s been a tough go. I finally found someone (Thank you, Kerrie!) that understood what I needed and the easiest way to accomplish it.

This is the stuff that makes a wannabe geek happy.


I am an admitted blog stalker. I am also a blog author, and a slack one at that. So now we’ve got those truths out of the way, I feel the need to remind the people whose blogs I read, YOU NEED TO KEEP UP! It’s like having a favorite author decide to stop writing, generally about the 4th or 5th book into a series. Not fair.
I wait for Murphy Monday – and it’s been two whole weeks since there has been an update.
I wait on Rosemary Farm – and continue to wait.

Please people, if your gonna do something that is as addictive as crack, then you need to keep up the supply, ok???

August so far

Just back from the Vancouver Island summer circuit. For the non-dogshow readers, a circuit is a series of shows held by different clubs, that are run on consecutive days. The Island Circuit starts in Campbell River on the Saturday, everyone moves 45 minutes down the highway to Courtenay for three more days on Monday after the show, and then on Thursday, there is the mad dash to Victoria (about 4 hours) for three more shows. Exhausting, but at the end of it, there are often many new champions, or top dogs, and sometimes the odd divorce!

It was only a matter of time, but I finally experienced my first theft. In my business, I deal with intellectual property (photography) and copyright is a big deal. I am the only one permitted by the club to take official photos, and have the appropriate signage, backdrops, lights, etc., with which to do just that. Some less than scrupulous individuals will attempt to circumvent the official process by standing off to the side with their own digital camera and a long lens, and take their own photos. This, dear readers, is theft. Pure, unadulterated theft, just as it would be if you went into my purse and took money out of my wallet. It is theft of copyright, and it is a common, and thought to be a victimless crime. Well, I’m here to tell you, I am the victim in this theft, as for every image shot by someone else, using my setup and signs, that is one photo I will not sell, UNLESS I CATCH YOU.

If I catch you, there will be repercussions. They might be as simple as a request to actually purchase the photo and to remove the offending photo from your Facebook page, or as drastic as embarrassing you in public by refusing to take an official photo of your dog and that really special win.
Regardless, the next time you decide to whip out your camera and take a photo of your dog having it’s photo taken with a judge, don’t do it. You’ll be happier that you didn’t.

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