I have a couple of vices. I admit it. I am not perfect. My family will die of shock right now. Fer shizzle.
One. Books, yeah this is no surprise. I have 700 or so books. The problem is that I haven't read them all. I buy them to HAVE them. It's wrong somehow - I know that. There are people in this world, probably kids in my own city that have no books and here I am, hoarding them. But reading a good book is something incredible. It's like if our life is one massive house, each book is a window or a door. I tend to look for God in every book I read, even when it's not overtly a Christian book.
Two. TV. Yes, I get caught up in all sorts of shows. House. Criminal Minds. Grey's Anatomy. ER. It's been going on for a long time, every since I had a crush on Mighty Mouse as a child. Then there was Little House on a Prairie, which was really the first show I felt I Could Not Do Without. Oh how I loved the story of Laura and Almanzo. It was the first romance I really felt I could believe in. Of course he was a stubborn man and Laura was headstrong, so it probably set the tone for my future lovelife. Nice. Thanks Laura Ingalls Wilder.
Thursday and Sunday nights have always been my night to watch TV. And yet now Mr. PVR has come into my life and everything has changed. I can save up all the shows I want until a night where I have finished all my work and the kids go to bed sweetly (or are at grandma's, like tonight) and I get to sleep in tomorrow. Now I can watch oodles of Criminal Minds and House and the movies I've saved. I love it!
How does this have to do with writing?
Like any vice, the call of it can be almost overwhelming. I'm actually irritated when I'm missing one of my shows or I don't want to start a writing project because a SHOW IS ON IN FIVE MINUTES. Sometimes I just push back my project (aka procrastinate) or I try to do both at the same time (never effective).
But now? Now I can put my vice on hold! And it's like a carrot! Finish work and watch shows guilt-free!
Newest gadget for every writer: PVR. (I think it's called TiVo in the States.)
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Dealing with Loss
How do you deal with loss? Isn't that a question without an answer? I think so.
Last weekend we lost a friend.
At work today - and all week - so many people are sad. Some are angry that he's gone.
Some hardly knew him. Some knew him for over a decade. Some were in the inner circle. Some hung about the outer rim.
I posted his obituary to Facebook tonight, wondering as I did if those who were closer to him might get offended. All day we have been preparing for his visitation tonight and sometimes I felt so wrong planning who I was going to carpool with or who was going with whom - it felt like planning a social event. I wanted to make it stop. Make us not have to check in with each other (time? your car or mine? how do you get there?) in the same way we'd plan a party or a night out.
But I realized that everyone has their own way of dealing. Just read his guestbook. Some are private, and close their office doors and honour him the way they know how, by doing their jobs well. Some talk about it, make jokes and remember how much fun he inspired. Some are silent, not revealing their emotion at all.
I'm choosing to talk about him. I'm choosing to tell people who didn't know Jim Haigh that he was important and special. You didn't know him? You missed out, buddy.
You missed his laugh, that I hear so loud in my head that I think I could actually open my mouth and it would come out. You missed a passion for his job that was the fuel for a small, just $100 million, empire. You missed watching him talk about "the business" and get so excited that he'd rock forward on the balls of his feet like he was going to launch himself into the crowd. You missed him pacing at the back of the room during the National Sales meetings, listening intently. You missed the empty coffee pots he'd leave that would make you shake your fist and call down the hall "this is how I know you're in the building, Jim! Empty coffee pots!" You missed dimples. You missed inside jokes and goblets of wine. You missed vision. You missed a mentor. You missed a friend.
You missed Jim.
And so do I.
Last weekend we lost a friend.
At work today - and all week - so many people are sad. Some are angry that he's gone.
Some hardly knew him. Some knew him for over a decade. Some were in the inner circle. Some hung about the outer rim.
I posted his obituary to Facebook tonight, wondering as I did if those who were closer to him might get offended. All day we have been preparing for his visitation tonight and sometimes I felt so wrong planning who I was going to carpool with or who was going with whom - it felt like planning a social event. I wanted to make it stop. Make us not have to check in with each other (time? your car or mine? how do you get there?) in the same way we'd plan a party or a night out.
But I realized that everyone has their own way of dealing. Just read his guestbook. Some are private, and close their office doors and honour him the way they know how, by doing their jobs well. Some talk about it, make jokes and remember how much fun he inspired. Some are silent, not revealing their emotion at all.
I'm choosing to talk about him. I'm choosing to tell people who didn't know Jim Haigh that he was important and special. You didn't know him? You missed out, buddy.
You missed his laugh, that I hear so loud in my head that I think I could actually open my mouth and it would come out. You missed a passion for his job that was the fuel for a small, just $100 million, empire. You missed watching him talk about "the business" and get so excited that he'd rock forward on the balls of his feet like he was going to launch himself into the crowd. You missed him pacing at the back of the room during the National Sales meetings, listening intently. You missed the empty coffee pots he'd leave that would make you shake your fist and call down the hall "this is how I know you're in the building, Jim! Empty coffee pots!" You missed dimples. You missed inside jokes and goblets of wine. You missed vision. You missed a mentor. You missed a friend.
You missed Jim.
And so do I.
Tuesday, November 18, 2008
The Power of Words
On Monday I learned:
People make choices we may never understand - we still love them.
When there is true pain it can block out everything.
We can never know when the words we say to someone may be the last time we speak.
Strong people may not be so.
Crying is never a sign of weakness.
A wish for what you might have said to make a difference can be turned into action: say what you mean today to those you love.
Some friends you choose, some choose you and sometimes you get lumped in and learn to love each other.
There is never any need to compare pain with one another.
Some people leave - but they never leave us.
~~
Words have always been my strength. I rely on them and they always come through for me. But this week I learned that the words I hold in will lose their power. It does no good to think thoughts about someone's well-being and not express them. We often fear that we'll be seen as inappropriate or nosey. We worry if things are our business. We through about the words "how are you?" without even an expectation of a real answer.
Words, whether written or spoken, matter. They matter almost as much as touch. Almost as much as a hug. God, I hope that you gave me this gift of words for a better purpose. I promise that I will no longer keep that gift inside. I've used words to make money, to put food on the table, for my own selfish desires.
But what about blessing others? What about glorifying God? What about changing lives . . . or even the possibility of changing lives? What about delivering comfort? What about lifting spirits? What about telling someone that they matter?
I will do better.
People make choices we may never understand - we still love them.
When there is true pain it can block out everything.
We can never know when the words we say to someone may be the last time we speak.
Strong people may not be so.
Crying is never a sign of weakness.
A wish for what you might have said to make a difference can be turned into action: say what you mean today to those you love.
Some friends you choose, some choose you and sometimes you get lumped in and learn to love each other.
There is never any need to compare pain with one another.
Some people leave - but they never leave us.
~~
Words have always been my strength. I rely on them and they always come through for me. But this week I learned that the words I hold in will lose their power. It does no good to think thoughts about someone's well-being and not express them. We often fear that we'll be seen as inappropriate or nosey. We worry if things are our business. We through about the words "how are you?" without even an expectation of a real answer.
Words, whether written or spoken, matter. They matter almost as much as touch. Almost as much as a hug. God, I hope that you gave me this gift of words for a better purpose. I promise that I will no longer keep that gift inside. I've used words to make money, to put food on the table, for my own selfish desires.
But what about blessing others? What about glorifying God? What about changing lives . . . or even the possibility of changing lives? What about delivering comfort? What about lifting spirits? What about telling someone that they matter?
I will do better.
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Slackers-Not-So-Anonymous
There's a great group of writing mothers that you might of heard about: The Writing Mothers. Lately, the list has been quiet. Which I'm convinced is because *I* have been quiet, except that would be giving myself a few more powers than I have (the sum is currently zero in the power department). But a very good discussion was sparked today and it seems like there are a few others out there who are also feeling frustratingly quiet.
I recently finished book #2, which will be released before book #1, so technically it will be my first book. Anyhoo...
This book was much harder to write than the first one (book one, which will be book two) because it had more technical info in it. There were certain topics that I knew, but I didn't know them to the depth which I needed to know them. Ya follow? For example, we all know that too much CO2 being released into the air is bad, right? But can you explain (with humor, wit and clarity please!) how much is too much? How many ppm is really bad and how many ppm is super-duper bad? Why is methane worse than CO2 and what's the difference between the concentrations and potency in our atmosphere?
So there was learning involved. And did I mention it was about 85,000 words?
The sheer size of it terrified me. But I did it. I finished.
And immediately I felt like I didn't want to write again for a year. I wanted to be just a mother, hanging out with my kids in the evening instead of rushing to the computer after I'd put them to bed. I wanted to catch up on all the shows I'd PVR'd without feeling guilty. And why did I feel guilty? Because every moment I wasn't writing, I knew I should be. Every moment I was writing, I felt like I should be with my kids. Every moment at my Day Job I felt like I should be either writing or with my kids, knowing that whichever I would choose I'd still go back to feeling guilty about not doing the other one.
What kind of craziness is this that I am afflicted with?!
Since I finished the book and finished the edits, I haven't written much. I've hardly blogged, I hardly email. I had one column due (yesterday) and I finished that (yesterday). But still I have been feeling like much less of a writer than I am used to. Because each time I sat down at the computer, I felt a certain amount of panic at what I had to accomplish. You don't know how many blog posts I started and then deleted because I'd get a paragraph in and think "this is stupid".
I think part of it was going through the edit process. My editor for this last book was wonderful. There were a lot of great comments on the manuscript that helped me to see where I needed to fix it and where I could improve. But as wonderful as the edits were, there's still that niggling voice that says "look at all the mistakes you made!" and my inner perfectionist comes out to perch upon my shoulder and make insinuating eyebrows at me.
So I started to not really want to write, I started to avoid it. Sure, I had things I wanted to write, but I didn't HAVE to - like blog posts. I started to let that procrastination habit creep back in. Then something happened. My friend Karen passed away and a package that I'd made up for her was still sitting, unsent at my office. I had procrastinated my way into a place I'd never been before, I actually missed a deadline (absolutely no pun intended on that one, though it would probably have made Karen smile) that I couldn't recover from.
Part of me just wanted to NOT do anything. If I didn't commit to anything, I would have no deadlines to miss. I embraced my inner slacker. Don't try so you don't miss anything.
But guess what? That's not me. I'm a driven person. I like to DO things. I like to take on scary projects that find me over my head. I think that it might even be the way God created me - willing to take a step or two on faith rather than leaning on my own understanding (or rationale). Willing to say "sure, I can do that" when I'm not sure if I can or not.
So here I am, Heather Cook, a reformed slacker. It was a dark moment, a quick foray into the unknown world of slackerdom. But I'm back.
I recently finished book #2, which will be released before book #1, so technically it will be my first book. Anyhoo...
This book was much harder to write than the first one (book one, which will be book two) because it had more technical info in it. There were certain topics that I knew, but I didn't know them to the depth which I needed to know them. Ya follow? For example, we all know that too much CO2 being released into the air is bad, right? But can you explain (with humor, wit and clarity please!) how much is too much? How many ppm is really bad and how many ppm is super-duper bad? Why is methane worse than CO2 and what's the difference between the concentrations and potency in our atmosphere?
So there was learning involved. And did I mention it was about 85,000 words?
The sheer size of it terrified me. But I did it. I finished.
And immediately I felt like I didn't want to write again for a year. I wanted to be just a mother, hanging out with my kids in the evening instead of rushing to the computer after I'd put them to bed. I wanted to catch up on all the shows I'd PVR'd without feeling guilty. And why did I feel guilty? Because every moment I wasn't writing, I knew I should be. Every moment I was writing, I felt like I should be with my kids. Every moment at my Day Job I felt like I should be either writing or with my kids, knowing that whichever I would choose I'd still go back to feeling guilty about not doing the other one.
What kind of craziness is this that I am afflicted with?!
Since I finished the book and finished the edits, I haven't written much. I've hardly blogged, I hardly email. I had one column due (yesterday) and I finished that (yesterday). But still I have been feeling like much less of a writer than I am used to. Because each time I sat down at the computer, I felt a certain amount of panic at what I had to accomplish. You don't know how many blog posts I started and then deleted because I'd get a paragraph in and think "this is stupid".
I think part of it was going through the edit process. My editor for this last book was wonderful. There were a lot of great comments on the manuscript that helped me to see where I needed to fix it and where I could improve. But as wonderful as the edits were, there's still that niggling voice that says "look at all the mistakes you made!" and my inner perfectionist comes out to perch upon my shoulder and make insinuating eyebrows at me.
So I started to not really want to write, I started to avoid it. Sure, I had things I wanted to write, but I didn't HAVE to - like blog posts. I started to let that procrastination habit creep back in. Then something happened. My friend Karen passed away and a package that I'd made up for her was still sitting, unsent at my office. I had procrastinated my way into a place I'd never been before, I actually missed a deadline (absolutely no pun intended on that one, though it would probably have made Karen smile) that I couldn't recover from.
Part of me just wanted to NOT do anything. If I didn't commit to anything, I would have no deadlines to miss. I embraced my inner slacker. Don't try so you don't miss anything.
But guess what? That's not me. I'm a driven person. I like to DO things. I like to take on scary projects that find me over my head. I think that it might even be the way God created me - willing to take a step or two on faith rather than leaning on my own understanding (or rationale). Willing to say "sure, I can do that" when I'm not sure if I can or not.
So here I am, Heather Cook, a reformed slacker. It was a dark moment, a quick foray into the unknown world of slackerdom. But I'm back.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Finding my way back
I don't know how we writers continue to do this. Some days I look wistfully across the playground at another mother and think "what's it like to have just one job?" Then I smack myself for being so judgmental because who the heck knows what another mother has on the back burner.
But having completed two manuscripts now, I'm learning for the second time that there's this weird, foggy, grey period after a manuscript is finished. I'm tired, so tired. (There was also the moving and now the unpacking.) But I've yet to go to bed before 11 pm because - get this - I feel guilty if I go to bed early because there's still much work to be done. Then I drag myself off to work in the morning. I work at 7:30 am, and I live really close to work, so some days (like the days when hubby is taking the kids to their respective drop-offs) I actually don't get in the shower until 7, and then I'm at work right on time. I just can't seem to get out of bed. Uh, gee, wonder why.
But slowly I'm finding my way back to writing again. I'm jealous of those that are writing right now, free and loose, able to find all the words they want. Me? I'm feeling, not stuck, just bored and tired at the same time.
Words aren't coming easily. I write at work, I type many emails during the day. But I'm not a "writer" at work. So many mornings I sit down to work and think "oh I could blog right now". But I like my job and want to keep it... and so writing while at work is out.
In short, sorry I've been away... I'm coming back now. I'm finding my way back to the safe spot where I can write and be happy. Because if a writing mother isn't happy, no body's happy.
But having completed two manuscripts now, I'm learning for the second time that there's this weird, foggy, grey period after a manuscript is finished. I'm tired, so tired. (There was also the moving and now the unpacking.) But I've yet to go to bed before 11 pm because - get this - I feel guilty if I go to bed early because there's still much work to be done. Then I drag myself off to work in the morning. I work at 7:30 am, and I live really close to work, so some days (like the days when hubby is taking the kids to their respective drop-offs) I actually don't get in the shower until 7, and then I'm at work right on time. I just can't seem to get out of bed. Uh, gee, wonder why.
But slowly I'm finding my way back to writing again. I'm jealous of those that are writing right now, free and loose, able to find all the words they want. Me? I'm feeling, not stuck, just bored and tired at the same time.
Words aren't coming easily. I write at work, I type many emails during the day. But I'm not a "writer" at work. So many mornings I sit down to work and think "oh I could blog right now". But I like my job and want to keep it... and so writing while at work is out.
In short, sorry I've been away... I'm coming back now. I'm finding my way back to the safe spot where I can write and be happy. Because if a writing mother isn't happy, no body's happy.
Sunday, October 12, 2008
This is a writing blog, really!
Not so much with the writing around here these days. Pictures, sometimes. Writing? Yeah, not so much.
Do you know what I've discovered? I've discovered that writing and editing are hard to do at the same time. It's hard to switch hats. In fact, I have to physically switch locations just to write this post. All night I've been editing. All weekend I've been editing. I've been to Starbucks and McDonalds and now (surprisingly) I know why I'm getting so fat.
Eat. Edit. Eat. Edit. Latte. Edit. Cheeseburger. Edit. Chocolate Chip Cookie made by hubby. Edit.
But please, please stay with me. The book is due on the 16th. I should be sane shortly after that. I'm moving on the 18th and then, well, then I will feel totally renewed with a new office space, a new room to sleep in. Maybe even a new bed.
But for now, I edit. I ignore the packing, I stumble around the boxes littering the living space. I ignore the carpet that required vaccuming and I just edit. And, apparently, eat.
Coming soon: weightwatchers meetings. Yes, really.
Do you know what I've discovered? I've discovered that writing and editing are hard to do at the same time. It's hard to switch hats. In fact, I have to physically switch locations just to write this post. All night I've been editing. All weekend I've been editing. I've been to Starbucks and McDonalds and now (surprisingly) I know why I'm getting so fat.
Eat. Edit. Eat. Edit. Latte. Edit. Cheeseburger. Edit. Chocolate Chip Cookie made by hubby. Edit.
But please, please stay with me. The book is due on the 16th. I should be sane shortly after that. I'm moving on the 18th and then, well, then I will feel totally renewed with a new office space, a new room to sleep in. Maybe even a new bed.
But for now, I edit. I ignore the packing, I stumble around the boxes littering the living space. I ignore the carpet that required vaccuming and I just edit. And, apparently, eat.
Coming soon: weightwatchers meetings. Yes, really.
Sunday, October 05, 2008
365 Photography Project - Day 5
October 5/08
Picture 5
I know I should take it away from her. We have one last bottle of the disposable inserts and I can't NOT use them. The only thing worse than using disposable inserts would be to buy them and not use them and THEN throw them out. After E hurt her tooth a week and a half ago, the dentist said that it would actually be good for her tooth if she drank from a bottle because it would keep it forward, not the smashed backwards position it was in after her epic fail with the floor. But I'm not a bottle fan. No, I'm a boob fan. I just went on a work trip at the wrong time and weaned her. :(
I know I should take it away from her. We have one last bottle of the disposable inserts and I can't NOT use them. The only thing worse than using disposable inserts would be to buy them and not use them and THEN throw them out. After E hurt her tooth a week and a half ago, the dentist said that it would actually be good for her tooth if she drank from a bottle because it would keep it forward, not the smashed backwards position it was in after her epic fail with the floor. But I'm not a bottle fan. No, I'm a boob fan. I just went on a work trip at the wrong time and weaned her. :(
Saturday, October 04, 2008
Friday, October 03, 2008
365 Photography Project - Day 3
October 3/08
Picture 3
This is my city. Part country. Part civilized.
Wouldn't have it any other way.
When I moved here, this whole picture would have been fields.
But now it's a mix.
City/Country
This is my city. Part country. Part civilized.Wouldn't have it any other way.
When I moved here, this whole picture would have been fields.
But now it's a mix.
City/Country
Thursday, October 02, 2008
365 Photography Project - Day 2
October 2/08
Picture 2
Picture 2
This is my son. Army Boy. He's high up in a tree, high enough that I had to get the zoom lens out to take the picture. Well, not the BIG zoom lens, but the medium one. :) He's always been what I call "risk averse" ... which sort of makes him sound like an investor. But he's cautious. The thing is, he is only cautious until he is confident he can step out and DO. This is the way he learned to read, actually. Little baby steps, unsure, cautious... and now he's reading like crazy. Last night I caught him reading in his room with his little light on. Warms a writing mother's heart.
Wednesday, October 01, 2008
365 Photography Project - Day 1
Carolyn Erickson pointed me towards Project 365 at Blissfully Domestic. I love this idea. I've seen it done before and have always thought it might be neat. So I'm going to post a picture each day. For a full year.
October 1/08
Picture 1.
This is a provincial park located within the city limits of Calgary. It's called Fish Creek Park and every year the Beavers (like Junior Scouts) go out on a hike. The evening's hike presented us with some beautiful weather. The kids - all 15 of them - make quite a racket as they race ahead and duck into bushes. I make an equal racket trying to corral them. Finally a more experienced leader pulled them aside and explained how there might be bears around the corner and if they ran ahead and ran into a bear, the bear might eat them before we caught up. Technically, there are no bears in this park. But they bought it. I see nothing wrong with this little white lie. :)
This is a provincial park located within the city limits of Calgary. It's called Fish Creek Park and every year the Beavers (like Junior Scouts) go out on a hike. The evening's hike presented us with some beautiful weather. The kids - all 15 of them - make quite a racket as they race ahead and duck into bushes. I make an equal racket trying to corral them. Finally a more experienced leader pulled them aside and explained how there might be bears around the corner and if they ran ahead and ran into a bear, the bear might eat them before we caught up. Technically, there are no bears in this park. But they bought it. I see nothing wrong with this little white lie. :)Saturday, September 27, 2008
Edits!
You know . . . when I'm writing I swear I like editing better.
When I'm editing I swear I like writing better.
Let's face it, I'm a grass is greener writer.
When I'm editing I swear I like writing better.
Let's face it, I'm a grass is greener writer.
I think I figured it out...
I think I figured out what bothers me so much about American politics.
On one hand they focus far too much on what a candidate looks and sounds like (rather than what they say).
On the other, they take it all SO seriously. Like a hairdo or a 15 second video of a stammer is going to decide how they vote.
So much energy is spent talking about the person's personal life or the pins they put on a lapel or what small errant slip of the tongue might indicate. They expect total and complete perfection in every word.
Mispronunciation? Oh, obviously that means he/she is an idiot. Forgot your flag pin? Oh you are anti-American. Stammer? Total idiot.
Whatever would they make of our candidates? PMs whose native language isn't English, heavy accents, facial paralysis... I mean I was never a fan of ol Jean, but you wouldn't catch me judging him on what he looks or sounds like. We could even forgive some of the dumbest sounding statements because we know that people aren't always perfect and don't always speak in perfect evening news soundbites.
It's almost as though they insist that their candidates be media savvy OVER being a person of action. Almost like they believe it's what you SAY and how you say it, not what you DO.
I've never realized how spoiled we are up here in Canada to have voters that can look past the first layer, past the news soundbite, past the mispronunciations and unpolished interviews. We're much more forgiving.
And, obviously, to my American friends and readers... I realize that not everyone is like this, but these days I can't seem to read as many blogs as I once did without tripping over the same Palin video clips accompanied by the nearly identical commentary about what she sounds like or if she stammers or if she looks nervous.
(Oh, and anyone who says that living next door to Russia doesn't give you any foreign policy experience . . . has never lived right next door to a large and powerful foreign country. Most Americans wouldn't consider Canada that powerful, I get that you don't give us a second thought. But Canadians? We know how our lives are affected by America . . . and our provincial leaders have trade experience and more because they share a border with America.)
(I'm tired of hearing that Obama only says "Change!" The people who use that as some kind of dig have not gone far enough to actually look up what he DOES say. Do your research, he gets a tad more specific. LOL)
Ok, now hopefully I haven't offended the pants off of everyone. I'll try not to be so CANADIAN and say SORRY.
On one hand they focus far too much on what a candidate looks and sounds like (rather than what they say).
On the other, they take it all SO seriously. Like a hairdo or a 15 second video of a stammer is going to decide how they vote.
So much energy is spent talking about the person's personal life or the pins they put on a lapel or what small errant slip of the tongue might indicate. They expect total and complete perfection in every word.
Mispronunciation? Oh, obviously that means he/she is an idiot. Forgot your flag pin? Oh you are anti-American. Stammer? Total idiot.
Whatever would they make of our candidates? PMs whose native language isn't English, heavy accents, facial paralysis... I mean I was never a fan of ol Jean, but you wouldn't catch me judging him on what he looks or sounds like. We could even forgive some of the dumbest sounding statements because we know that people aren't always perfect and don't always speak in perfect evening news soundbites.
It's almost as though they insist that their candidates be media savvy OVER being a person of action. Almost like they believe it's what you SAY and how you say it, not what you DO.
I've never realized how spoiled we are up here in Canada to have voters that can look past the first layer, past the news soundbite, past the mispronunciations and unpolished interviews. We're much more forgiving.
And, obviously, to my American friends and readers... I realize that not everyone is like this, but these days I can't seem to read as many blogs as I once did without tripping over the same Palin video clips accompanied by the nearly identical commentary about what she sounds like or if she stammers or if she looks nervous.
(Oh, and anyone who says that living next door to Russia doesn't give you any foreign policy experience . . . has never lived right next door to a large and powerful foreign country. Most Americans wouldn't consider Canada that powerful, I get that you don't give us a second thought. But Canadians? We know how our lives are affected by America . . . and our provincial leaders have trade experience and more because they share a border with America.)
(I'm tired of hearing that Obama only says "Change!" The people who use that as some kind of dig have not gone far enough to actually look up what he DOES say. Do your research, he gets a tad more specific. LOL)
Ok, now hopefully I haven't offended the pants off of everyone. I'll try not to be so CANADIAN and say SORRY.
Libel Insurance: The Non-Product
So I'm phoning around for house insurance quotes.
I was surprised to hear that the last insurance company offered me "Libel" insurance on my home insurance. To understand the libel issue, you really have to be Canadian. For Americans you have your "freedom of speech". In Canada, the onus is on the WRITER to prove that what they wrote is true. This means you can be sued by anyone for something you wrote, even if it was completely true. If they don't like you and want to shut you up, well, they just have to sue you and put you tens of thousands of dollars in debt, you lose your home and are destitute and suddenly you don't want to write anything risque any more.
Truth is a defense, yes, but it won't stop you from being sued and spending thousands upon thousands in legal fees. So I was kind of hoping that this libel insurance thing was the real deal. But here was the very frustrating conversation:
Her: We offer libel insurance for $200 a year.
Me: Oh yeah? Even if I'm a writer and I write books?
Her: Yes.
Me: That's very interesting, I'm a member of the Professional Writers Association of Canada and libel is a topic that comes up quite often. See, there's this thing called libel chill where freelancers don't write hardcore journalism as much because they are worried they'll be sued for libel.
Her: Um, can you hold?
Me: Sure.
I'm thinking, crap, why did I tell her that? Why did I admit it? I could have GOTTEN libel insurance. Oh, wait, because it would have been dishonest and they probably would have denied any claim anyway.
Her: Hi, um, so we can't offer that insurance because you publish your writing.
Me: But, it's LIBEL insurance. How would someone know I wrote something to sue me about if I didn't publish it?
Her: Well, if you say something and someone sues you -
Me: - no, spoken is slander, libel is written. Do you offer slander insurance then?
Her: Well, um, no, see, libel insurance is for if someone sues you over something you write. But you publish what you write.
Me: Right. Because for them to read what I write, I'd have to put it "out there", so I'd have to "publish it". How else would they read what I wrote? If you write something on a piece of paper and put it in your pocket, it's not published. But if you put it where someone can read it, like, say, on a blog or in a magazine or in a book . . . then legally it's published.
Her: Right, but you get paid.
Me: That doesn't matter, publishing is publishing regardless of whether or not the writer is paid.
Her: But, we can't offer libel insurance on anything you publish.
Me: Ok, so your libel insurance covers my diary and the notes I write and stick in my pocket.
Her: But if you say -
Me: - that's spoken, it's slander.
The poor girl, I felt a little bad for her at the end. Selling a non-product and not knowing what that non-product even is...
I was surprised to hear that the last insurance company offered me "Libel" insurance on my home insurance. To understand the libel issue, you really have to be Canadian. For Americans you have your "freedom of speech". In Canada, the onus is on the WRITER to prove that what they wrote is true. This means you can be sued by anyone for something you wrote, even if it was completely true. If they don't like you and want to shut you up, well, they just have to sue you and put you tens of thousands of dollars in debt, you lose your home and are destitute and suddenly you don't want to write anything risque any more.
Truth is a defense, yes, but it won't stop you from being sued and spending thousands upon thousands in legal fees. So I was kind of hoping that this libel insurance thing was the real deal. But here was the very frustrating conversation:
Her: We offer libel insurance for $200 a year.
Me: Oh yeah? Even if I'm a writer and I write books?
Her: Yes.
Me: That's very interesting, I'm a member of the Professional Writers Association of Canada and libel is a topic that comes up quite often. See, there's this thing called libel chill where freelancers don't write hardcore journalism as much because they are worried they'll be sued for libel.
Her: Um, can you hold?
Me: Sure.
I'm thinking, crap, why did I tell her that? Why did I admit it? I could have GOTTEN libel insurance. Oh, wait, because it would have been dishonest and they probably would have denied any claim anyway.
Her: Hi, um, so we can't offer that insurance because you publish your writing.
Me: But, it's LIBEL insurance. How would someone know I wrote something to sue me about if I didn't publish it?
Her: Well, if you say something and someone sues you -
Me: - no, spoken is slander, libel is written. Do you offer slander insurance then?
Her: Well, um, no, see, libel insurance is for if someone sues you over something you write. But you publish what you write.
Me: Right. Because for them to read what I write, I'd have to put it "out there", so I'd have to "publish it". How else would they read what I wrote? If you write something on a piece of paper and put it in your pocket, it's not published. But if you put it where someone can read it, like, say, on a blog or in a magazine or in a book . . . then legally it's published.
Her: Right, but you get paid.
Me: That doesn't matter, publishing is publishing regardless of whether or not the writer is paid.
Her: But, we can't offer libel insurance on anything you publish.
Me: Ok, so your libel insurance covers my diary and the notes I write and stick in my pocket.
Her: But if you say -
Me: - that's spoken, it's slander.
The poor girl, I felt a little bad for her at the end. Selling a non-product and not knowing what that non-product even is...
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Offices
As we start to get ready to move, I start thinking about my new "office". Originally I was hoping that I'd get an actual office ROOM. Like, with a DOOR. But I realized quickly that every home we looked at with that all important potential office . . . just didn't work. The room was always too far away from wherever the kids were going to play.
So, for a few more years, I'll be working away in an area just off the playroom. In our new house it will be in the basement, in the "bar" area. The kids will have a larger, longer area. If the area were shaped like a capital L, then my office is in the horizontal part, the kids play area is in the vertical.
I was searching around for great home office areas and found one site that had pictures of "famous" home offices. Except it also had lots of PRON sites as advertisers. So. Not linking there!
But HGTV seems to have some great ideas. But what I really found interesting was a search on Flickr for home offices. I almost can't make up my mind, but I have many years in this house to decide on the perfect office. I think the walls will be blue. That's as far as I've gotten.
So, for a few more years, I'll be working away in an area just off the playroom. In our new house it will be in the basement, in the "bar" area. The kids will have a larger, longer area. If the area were shaped like a capital L, then my office is in the horizontal part, the kids play area is in the vertical.
I was searching around for great home office areas and found one site that had pictures of "famous" home offices. Except it also had lots of PRON sites as advertisers. So. Not linking there!
But HGTV seems to have some great ideas. But what I really found interesting was a search on Flickr for home offices. I almost can't make up my mind, but I have many years in this house to decide on the perfect office. I think the walls will be blue. That's as far as I've gotten.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Octopus Moms
I was recently interviewed by Lisa Bendall, a fellow PWAC member about being an Octopus Mom. Lisa is also one of the many multi-tasking moms you come across these days. She was interviewed about her life as well.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
SOLD PICS!
I love the trees - they give us such privacy, not to mention they'll keep the house cooler in the summer! It looks like I've have gardens to keep up and everything. I love it!!!
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Buying a House? Don't forget the Valium.
In the grand scheme of things, with all that is going on in the world, there is little need for more drama. As I write this there are stories playing out on TV of horrible things that have happened: floods, deaths, war, loss. But please bear with me for a moment while I tell you a little story about buying a house.
Do you remember the post about buying a house?
Well. We KNEW it would inspect well. We KNEW it. And sure enough, the inspector kept saying "wow" and "they wrote the book on pride of ownership" and "this is a GOOD house". He was happy to be teaching me these little tidbits about a good house with a good example in front of him. Normally he'd be showing someone a problem and saying "now it should look like . . . "
Now, we'd been pre-approved for about $40K more than the accepted offer, so we figured we were golden, right?
Um, wrong. See, we were doing the "zero down" thing that they are taking away as of October 15th. We were fitting in under the wire. Except that last week was probably the worst week in the last five years to try and get a mortgage. The US was imploding; stock markets were roller coasters; companies were being bailed out by governments. We could NOT have timed it worse.
The lender decided that they wanted an appraisal done to make sure that what we were paying for the house was what the house was worth. That way if we default on the mortgage the day after we sign, they can turn around and sell it. This makes NO sense to me because it's the buyer and the buying market that determines the worth and value of a house. The answer to "what's it worth" is always "what someone will pay". The bank doesn't factor in "one block from Army Boy's school" or "across the street from where soccer is held each spring". No, they look at theoretically more concrete things. (What they are, I don't know..)
It wasn't enough that the city's tax assessment put the house's value at almost $100K more than what we paid (I'm going to have a chat with the city tax department about this one, let me tell you) because that has more to do with what it will cost the city to maintain your street/community/alley etc...
There were miscommunications with the appraisers, they had to come back to appraise it (I think they only did a 'drive by' the first time) and they promised a 24 hour turnaround on the report when it took much longer than that... I feel bad that the realtors and the mortgage broker had to do so much work - whatever kind of commission they get, they earned every single penny just having to deal with me. I'm not patient. Factor in that I was sick (fever, ear infection, headache...) and you have a very cranky client.
We were told that yes, we'd been approved for the dollars, just not necessarily on THAT HOUSE. Because the appraisal came by under the purchase price, suddenly the bank didn't want to insure that mortgage. Or, um, the insurer didn't want to insure it and so the bank wouldn't lend it. Something like that. We were qualified to buy, just not any house. The bank wanted their say. In other words, pre-approval means sweet tweet.
The mortgage broker (who I'm sure had better things to do on a Friday night) spent hours on the phone with managers from BC to ON trying to find out how much the silly property had appraised at. Were we talking a difference of $500, $5000 or what?
Finally we heard that it appraised at $5K under the purchase price. Ah, for the wont of $5000. We found the extra $5000 and I signed the paper at 7:55 pm. Just an hour and five minutes before the 9 pm deadline.
And about three hours after I'd lost my mind. I was literally sitting in a chair, staring at the roof and almost not caring which direction this deal would go as long as it would be over soon. Actually, now that I think about it, that reminds me a lot of childbirth. "I can't do this any more, make it stop, make it go away, get it out."
If you are in Calgary and need a home buying team, please let me recommend Kari & Mark Ashlee as well as Debbie Weiss with ProLink Mortgage. Bar none, the best team you ever want to have.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
I Heart Words
I know, some people are driven BATTY by the phrase "I heart..." but I kind of like it. I like playing with words, making them mine and using them the way I want to. I even like breaking some grammar rules as long as I know I'm breaking them. Because it's horrendous to break them accidentally.
But I love finding words. I subscribe to several "word of the day" newsletters and my current favourite word is cicumlocution. It's the BEST word for the coming political races, isn't it?
Meaning
*1 : the use of an unnecessarily large number of words to express an idea
2 : evasion in speech
Example Sentence
*Mr. Harvey was notorious for his tendency to engage in endless circumlocution when a simple, brief explanation would suffice.
But I love finding words. I subscribe to several "word of the day" newsletters and my current favourite word is cicumlocution. It's the BEST word for the coming political races, isn't it?
Meaning
*1 : the use of an unnecessarily large number of words to express an idea
2 : evasion in speech
Example Sentence
*Mr. Harvey was notorious for his tendency to engage in endless circumlocution when a simple, brief explanation would suffice.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
A Happy End to House Hunting
Just a little over a week ago Major Man and I decided to see if we could get approved for a mortgage. We're in Canada (as many of you may know) so the rules are a little different than in the US. We're not facing a mortgage crisis of any magnitude though the market is softening considerably.
We discovered that the Government was putting some rule changes into effect on Oct 15th. Taking away the 40 year amoritization and the "no money down" option, though you can still withdraw from your RRSP to put money down on a home and you have 15 years to pay that money back. Easily done when you contribute regularly.
The government wants to avoid what is happening in the US so I'm glad that they are making these changes. It would mean that we'd be years away from owning a home though. Since Major Man was finally in a good job and I have a long term job, we figured we'd give pre-qualification a shot. We were more than mildly surprised to learn that we qualified for a decent mortgage. This was last Thursday, the 4th.
We about 20 homes in one week and yesterday we signed the paperwork to buy one! Boy, that was quick! We looked at it twice, first it was just me, then I brought my husband. The couple who owns it now has lived there for 42 years. It is in pristine condition. The deal currently hinges on the home inspection, but I can almost guarantee that there will be no surprises there. The house was immaculate. One of the coolest things was that this couple bought everything brand new in the 60s and they did NOT replace anything. They fixed and maintained. Everything is original except the white carpet in the front that covers the original hardwood.
Have a little look-see:
The light is pretty good in the master bedroom.
Inside the closet was a 75 pound turquoise green vacuum cleaner.
The backyard was beautifully maintained.
Gas firepit!
There's also a fenced off garden.
There are many bunnies in the neighbourhood, so I'm glad there's a fence.
Note that the cooktop, fridge and oven (which you can't see here) are ORIGINAL.
There are buttons on the cooktop to turn on the burners.
The inside of the fridge? Turquoise green of course!
With an "icebox"!
Do you see how shiny that floor is??
This will be a reading area.
The kids can eat in the kitchen.
No eating on the white carpet.
Punishment: disem-Nintendo-ment.
They've offered (and we TOTALLY ACCEPTED) to let us keep their floral couch and chair.
What keeps sticking out in my mind is that for so long I thought that home ownership was a fantasy, I'd never own a home. If anyone is fighting their way through debt, divorce, single-parenthood and feeling stressed, let me tell you: IT GETS BETTER. You can do it!
I feel incredibly lucky to be moving in to this home that has nurtured a family for 42 years. The couple who we bought it from had cards from their recent 50th anniversary proudly displayed. Did you hear that honey? Only 47 more years for us.
And the best part? If you look at this picture, you can see how close the house is to TWO schools. Army Boy attends the elementary on the right, while the junior high school is on the left. In the bottom left hand corner is the community centre. This big field is also where we play soccer every summer! Location! Location! Location!
Now, to start the packing . . .
We discovered that the Government was putting some rule changes into effect on Oct 15th. Taking away the 40 year amoritization and the "no money down" option, though you can still withdraw from your RRSP to put money down on a home and you have 15 years to pay that money back. Easily done when you contribute regularly.
The government wants to avoid what is happening in the US so I'm glad that they are making these changes. It would mean that we'd be years away from owning a home though. Since Major Man was finally in a good job and I have a long term job, we figured we'd give pre-qualification a shot. We were more than mildly surprised to learn that we qualified for a decent mortgage. This was last Thursday, the 4th.
We about 20 homes in one week and yesterday we signed the paperwork to buy one! Boy, that was quick! We looked at it twice, first it was just me, then I brought my husband. The couple who owns it now has lived there for 42 years. It is in pristine condition. The deal currently hinges on the home inspection, but I can almost guarantee that there will be no surprises there. The house was immaculate. One of the coolest things was that this couple bought everything brand new in the 60s and they did NOT replace anything. They fixed and maintained. Everything is original except the white carpet in the front that covers the original hardwood.
Have a little look-see:
Just walking up, you can see that it's got a nice front yard, very clean.
There's a carport, no garage.
We really don't need a garage, neither of us 'tinker' in there!
There's a carport, no garage.
We really don't need a garage, neither of us 'tinker' in there!
The bathroom is awesome in green, lol.
But look! Dual sinks!
But look! Dual sinks!
The light is pretty good in the master bedroom.
Inside the closet was a 75 pound turquoise green vacuum cleaner.
This room nearly did me in.
Look at the retro walls!
The bar! Glass on the wall!
ORANGE!
The fireplace is a fake electric one. Love it.
(But, uh, those walls are getting painted!)
Look at the retro walls!
The bar! Glass on the wall!
ORANGE!
The fireplace is a fake electric one. Love it.
(But, uh, those walls are getting painted!)
The backyard was beautifully maintained.
Gas firepit!
There's also a fenced off garden.
There are many bunnies in the neighbourhood, so I'm glad there's a fence.
Note that the cooktop, fridge and oven (which you can't see here) are ORIGINAL.
There are buttons on the cooktop to turn on the burners.
The inside of the fridge? Turquoise green of course!
With an "icebox"!
Do you see how shiny that floor is??
This will be a reading area.
The kids can eat in the kitchen.
No eating on the white carpet.
Punishment: disem-Nintendo-ment.
They've offered (and we TOTALLY ACCEPTED) to let us keep their floral couch and chair.
What keeps sticking out in my mind is that for so long I thought that home ownership was a fantasy, I'd never own a home. If anyone is fighting their way through debt, divorce, single-parenthood and feeling stressed, let me tell you: IT GETS BETTER. You can do it!
I feel incredibly lucky to be moving in to this home that has nurtured a family for 42 years. The couple who we bought it from had cards from their recent 50th anniversary proudly displayed. Did you hear that honey? Only 47 more years for us.
And the best part? If you look at this picture, you can see how close the house is to TWO schools. Army Boy attends the elementary on the right, while the junior high school is on the left. In the bottom left hand corner is the community centre. This big field is also where we play soccer every summer! Location! Location! Location!
Now, to start the packing . . .
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