Sam I am

A friend of mine adopted a baby boy named Sam, who is now 5-years-old and loves to kayak.

He said to her the other day:

"Mommy, I missed you so much when I was in that other ladies tummy."

I love that. Any parent gets teary-eyed when their kids say the cutest things.

But to an adoptive parent, this one takes the cake. With the icing. And a cherry on top. Add a few rainbow-coloured sprinkles, a dollop of whipped-cream, and a sparkler.

Make that two sparklers.

Heck, make it a whole room full of sparklers.

Brands

Paris, 13 years and 4 months old:

"I don't just want a hoodie, I want a hoodie with a brand on it."

First trip to American Eagle Outfitters.

First time wearing Tommy Hilfiger (no, I did not buy the $80 shirt. I'm talking about wearing it inside the change room).

Thankfully, I haven't lost my memory and I still remember when I would only wear Keds.

I can relate.

Let's just hope I can relate for another 4 years and 8 months.

Darth Vadar, Roller Derby and Divorce

Sunday morning. Blog time. But no real inspiration. That's what happens sometimes after watching movies like Blood Diamond (my wedding band has no diamonds, whew) and the Last King of Scotland where the subject matter is more important than my safe, Canadian blog. But I still feel like writing. Instead of diving in to a dissertation on African history and economic policies, I mindlessly wander into the internet (yes, I recognize just how awful that sounds).

Today I googled "learn something new" and came across a website called How Stuff Works. Intrigued, I moved in.

I searched for "Africa" and initially was presented with safaris, photos and maps. Not very useful at all, far below the ratings I would give to the movies I watched last night. And way, way below The Covenant, a favourite book by James A. Michener on the history of South Africa .

Then I got malaria (not me, the website results), AIDS, poverty relief, Bono, Unicef, African elephant crisis, foreign aid, and Kwanzaa, which is a holiday celebrating African traditions, so we are told.

That sounds a bit more like the Africa reported in the media.

I then searched "Susan," thinking perhaps this site can help me understand how I work. My results came up as flowers, cookie recipes, teenage bedroom decorating tips, and roller-derby.

Obviously, this website knows nothing.

Search for "Life" and you get Darth Vader.

Search for "Family" and you get a blood disorder.

Search for "Friends" and you get an exercise health guide and a guide on how to raise capital by borrowing from friends.

Search for "War" and you get The Learning Channel's Junkyard Wars.

Search for "Peace" and you get car magnets, posters, the United Nations, and a Few Good Men.

Search for "The Universe" and you get language translators.

Search for "Meaning" and you get divorce.

Oh boy. I am trying to find something witty and smart to say about this. But obviously, our world is full of stuff that is just plain stupid.

Search "Stupid" and you get "Will a turkey really drown if it looks up during a rainstorm?"

Here is a real kicker, search "Diamonds" and you get precisely that, down to the right cut. A clear, concise description of everything you need to know about diamonds. But keep reading down to the bottom of the "Cutting Diamonds" section and there it is, an overview of how diamond marketing really work, Africa, cartels and all.

Now, that is some good stuff.

A Tigger's a Wonderful Thing

This post may be a bit wobbly and venture off course. You see, I get motion sickness and I just got back from Playland. You do not know this, but I have already made 10 spelling mistakes while I have been writing this. My fingers are still dazed and confused, stumbling around the keyboard that just won't sit still. Back and forth, left and right, you would think I was on a schooner rounding Cape Horn.

But of course, tonight I couldn't even go on the Pirate Ship, an all-time favourite on the midway. No, by the end of ride two, the new roller coaster, my stomach was ready to give up... literally. Thankfully there was a beer garden in sight to ease my land-loving legs.

After songs from the Go-Go's and Johnny Cash (Folsom Prison Blues, no doubt), I was ready to make one last foray into the seven seas. Or at least the old roller coaster.

About 18 years ago, according to my memories, Playland was full of tight jeans, slouch bags, straight long hair, too much eye makeup, and teeny tank tops. Oddly, the lineups look the same today, like a bad reunion party from a high school group on Facebook. Yet retro cool, with Gwen Stefani belting it out while the two kids in front of us make out.

"You melt me down

I'm at my lowest boiling point

Come help me out

I need to get me out of this joint

Come on, let's bounce

Counting on you to turn me around

Instead of clowning around

let's look for some common ground"

Speaking of bounce, have you been on the old wooden roller coaster lately? Oh My God! I bounced like Tigger dancing to 'Whoop-de-Dooper Bounce.' Every twist and turn and roll and wave of that wood-stack is built to shuffle your queasy body around. Up and down, side to side. Did I mention I get motion sickness? Who cares! I was more worried about peeing my pants from laughing so much.

My friend Carla went to laughter yoga the other night. No bending, stretching, down dog or cobra, just standing around inducing laughter. Hmmm... seems kinda like throwing out the sun and veggies and popping a multi-vitamin, in my wobbly opinion. Make that class walk the plank, I say laughing to myself, and head on over to the wooden roller coaster. Best medicine I've had in a long time. Except Graval. And maybe hot pink cotton candy.

After the rides I was kinda looking to find something solid, straight and narrow, hence the theme through my images tonight. Enjoy and pass the mini donuts.

Solid Rock

Just a few pictures from a rock climbing adventure a few weeks ago. I like the first shot because it focuses on the rock, while the climbers are just blurs behind. Makes me feel as though the rock is more solid.

Go Fish

I like playing cards, especially on rainy Wetcoast days in front of the fire with a nice cup of chai and a delicate Japanese bowl full of GORP. A day kinda like today. Well, not just kinda, more like exactly.

It is Father's Day. And my husband wanted to go fishing. So yesterday my younger son and I went to Canadian Tire and bought some fishing rods, a giant net, and a small box of tackle. This morning, breakfast done, we packed a picnic lunch, dug some worms up from the dirt around our compost, put on our hoodies, and set off to a nearby lake.

Fast-track to the lake. A small dock with some experienced fishers and us newbies. (By the way, did you know that my last name, Rybar, means Fisher in Czech? Coincidence?)

One rod didn't come with line. Another rod broke within 5 minutes. The line on the third rod became so entangled I spent twenty-minutes trying to unravel it before just cutting it loose and starting fresh. The fourth rod worked, then didn't, then worked, then didn't. Lesson of the day: don't buy fishing rods from a company whose name includes "Tire" but not "Fish."

The sandwiches were good. The weather was not. Needless to say, we packed up the tackle box less than an hour after the first worm hit the hook. Happy Father's Hour!

I like Fathers that care more about getting out than getting upset, and today Tony earned his fishing hat by being thankful of our chaotic, fishless excursion.

Back home, in front of the fire, cards dealt, my younger son says, "Ahhhh... this feels good."

"Do you have a two?" he asks, popping a peanut in his mouth.

"Nope. Go fish," I reply, slurping my chai.

I laugh. He laughs too.

We already did.

Early birthday present

Today, an old friend I haven't seen for a few years said she didn't recognize me... because I look younger.

Three days to my birthday and that is a beautiful present to receive.

I don't think I will cut my hair short after all.