We had some excitement last night.

See here.

I have had an offer of "all the work I can handle", due to the retirement of the lady who generally does all the transcriptions for the territory, and so I've given my notice at the post office. So I will be transcribing full time, and when I come back from Australia that's ALL I will be doing. No more doing other people's jobs, this will be mine. I don't know if I can communicate how good that feels. And it won't be retail. Life is good.

Miguel was supposed to be going out to Toronto today, but there is a blizzard so he is grounded. Which is fine, because he would have had to have missed a friend's birthday party. Which is where we are going now, and maybe Miguel will get off to Toronto tomorrow.

The set of twigs in the middle of my kitchen window is a poinsettia. I bought it at the store, a 6 inch poinsettia, the clerk put it in a bag, Miguel carried the bag out to the truck and put it in the back. I should point out that the back of the truck is full of snow. By the time we got home, the poinsettia was wilting desperately, and it dropped all its leaves within the next 12 hours.

The scarcity of posting has been largely due to a/ the demands of the post office (they are legion and I understand the time-honoured tradition of arriving at work toting a weapon of some calibre) and b/ the movingandsettling process.

There was an alcohol ban in this community for the Christmas season. This, I have to say, worked well during the ban. But the prohibition period did not include New Year's Eve, and New Year's Day found me working in the lockup, with some severely hungover folks who had no idea what they were doing there.

I have been approached by the college to do a seven-week literacy for young mothers contract, and I think I'm going to take it. Sounds like fun. So, heartbreakingly, I have to quit the post office.

And then in March I'm off to Australia for little brother's wedding. I'm making my own dress. Out of bacon. And I'm collecting chicken nuggets to throw after the ceremony. Hee hee. Oh, and Graeme? Your gift's a rotisserie oven. Cos I've got one and it's too much fun.

A candy cane that I ate tonight yielded a large lump of metal, that I identified, belatedly, as the enormous filling from my right-top-back tooth. Ack. And there's no dentist on the horizon.

Nice things about being in our own house:

Rachel no longer gets locked out of the bedroom she shared with Kirsten.
The kitchen is big enough for two people to prepare a meal together without coming to blows or performing impromptu amputations.
Joeby's got his own couch.
The cupboards were full of dishes - nobody has to eat off the camping plate.
The television does not rule the house....

Our new house. Joeby wanted to come out and help take the pictures, but he got cold.

This is the view from my living room window, at noon. Out beyond the houses is the bay, acres of frozen salty water.