<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:blogger='http://schemas.google.com/blogger/2008' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd="http://schemas.google.com/g/2005" xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723</id><updated>2018-04-07T16:08:30.568-07:00</updated><category term="completed"/><category term="projects"/><category term="sewing"/><category term="updates"/><title type='text'>Ripples in the pond.</title><subtitle type='html'>Somewhere between work and home between, husband and daughter, between greyhound and rabbits, between chaos and order, between garden gloves and sewing machine, between food and sleep, there is this blog.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default?alt=atom'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default?alt=atom&amp;start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>132</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-3927078471076301066</id><published>2014-05-22T15:15:00.002-07:00</published><updated>2014-05-22T15:15:37.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting ready to move!</title><content type='html'>It&#39;s official. As of June 28th, we will be living in a new home. Our current home on Parkview Dr., a charming 3-storey 1930&#39;s gem just didn&#39;t meet our long-term needs. It didn&#39;t take us long to buy and sell, and now we&#39;re preparing not only to move, but to renovate!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Our new place (we&#39;ve named it &quot;Woody End&quot; with the appropriate credit to J.R. Tolkien) is a 1980&#39;s time capsule. It&#39;s a U-shaped one storey bungalow with plenty of room for improvements. We will be putting in all new flooring, stripping lots of wallpaper, converting a laundry room into an office, and completely renovating the kitchen. All (hopefully) in two months, and while living in the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here are some &quot;befores&quot;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TAkHNfgQHYM/U35w0f7PzPI/AAAAAAAAEaA/xRdE9kW2nKI/s1600/Tyne+kitchen+current.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TAkHNfgQHYM/U35w0f7PzPI/AAAAAAAAEaA/xRdE9kW2nKI/s1600/Tyne+kitchen+current.jpg&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;As well as being a place to cook and eat-in, the kitchen also serves as a passageway between the two wings of the house. Its current layout makes it into a bottleneck - I think things need to be opened up a little!&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Yes, that is a sunshine ceiling beside the actual skylight! The back wall is not, indeed, brick, but a lovely thick vinyl wallpaper - one of the first things I will attack when I move in.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f9w9a4ZDdks/U35w2NUlR_I/AAAAAAAAEaI/Gt_FezRS7ig/s1600/Tyne+ensuite+current.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-f9w9a4ZDdks/U35w2NUlR_I/AAAAAAAAEaI/Gt_FezRS7ig/s1600/Tyne+ensuite+current.jpg&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;The ensuite bathroom - It is way pinker in person than it looks in this picture.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hIbeKKe5HUs/U35w2GxYrUI/AAAAAAAAEac/PB7p8RL05Ck/s1600/Tyne+entry+current.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hIbeKKe5HUs/U35w2GxYrUI/AAAAAAAAEac/PB7p8RL05Ck/s1600/Tyne+entry+current.jpg&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Then entryway - view towards living and dining room. Changes T.B.A.!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o5onl4CHctE/U35w2PoDbFI/AAAAAAAAEaM/bJc-izKWXZw/s1600/Tyne+evvy+room+current.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-o5onl4CHctE/U35w2PoDbFI/AAAAAAAAEaM/bJc-izKWXZw/s1600/Tyne+evvy+room+current.jpg&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Evvy&#39;s bedroom. She has helped me to pick out a colour scheme, and I have some awesome fabric, so &amp;nbsp;look forward to some elegant florals, and bright stripes!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xqKYCiLoQ18/U35w2qrBJLI/AAAAAAAAEaY/Rl_E8mTJimo/s1600/Tyne+laundry+room+current.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xqKYCiLoQ18/U35w2qrBJLI/AAAAAAAAEaY/Rl_E8mTJimo/s1600/Tyne+laundry+room+current.jpg&quot; height=&quot;213&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;Current laundry room - soon to be an office for Peter. The laundry will move to the garage (yay! I have a garage!!!)&amp;nbsp;- a small concession to make.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ve already been working on some DIY projects that will grace our new home, and you can bet I&#39;ve done some shopping. Peter is less than impressed by the treasures I have been bringing home to revamp and re-purpose. Turns out he really liked the &quot;staged&quot; version of our home (we put 1/3 of our belongings in storage)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, with a strike pending, I will have to rein in my expenditures. Stupid contract negotiations. Stupid Liberal government. Stupid lack of proper funding for public education. Good thing I have all this planing to keep me distracted from the misery that is currently my job!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m currently&lt;a href=&quot;http://ana-white.com/2012/04/plans/providence-bench&quot; target=&quot;_blank&quot;&gt; building a bench based on this plan&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;by the spectacularly talented Ana White. This is officially the first piece of wooden furniture that I have constructed from scratch. Here&#39;s what it looks like so far:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-585xHwCsN8k/U352y9vsROI/AAAAAAAAEbM/7VLA8QKhskI/s1600/providence+bench.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-585xHwCsN8k/U352y9vsROI/AAAAAAAAEbM/7VLA8QKhskI/s1600/providence+bench.jpg&quot; height=&quot;239&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan to stain it a dark espresso colour, then, depending on how it looks, I may paint and distress!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/3927078471076301066/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=3927078471076301066&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/3927078471076301066'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/3927078471076301066'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2014/05/getting-ready-to-move.html' title='Getting ready to move!'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-TAkHNfgQHYM/U35w0f7PzPI/AAAAAAAAEaA/xRdE9kW2nKI/s72-c/Tyne+kitchen+current.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-6340582285827202682</id><published>2014-01-19T21:18:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2014-01-19T21:26:24.671-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Grandma.</title><content type='html'>My Grandma Friesen, Evvy&#39;s Oma, passed away this weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She lived out her life in all its fullness - all 97 years of it - and spent her twilight years in the Madison care facility in Coquitlam.&lt;br /&gt;Although her mind and body were strong well into her 90s, she waned near the end. Morphine helped to ease the pain of her aching hip and spine, which had long since passed their expiry dates, but her dauntless heart kept on beating, probably fueled by all that darn Barley Green she consumed daily for more than half a century.&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile as she waned, we waited, watched and held her hand, hoping her departure would be swift and peaceful. It felt like a long wait. In my mind, it was like saying a warm and tearful goodbye to her at the airport, and watching her board the plane only to have it spend nearly two months taxiing laboriously towards the runway. And now, finally, gloriously, she&#39;s airborne. Grandma has taken her final flight home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmm...I hope the in-flight food is way better than Air Canada&#39;s, she could really use a change from those horrible geriatric Boost shakes. &amp;nbsp;Although - &amp;nbsp;come to think of it - &amp;nbsp;the angels in their realms of glory are probably rejoicing that they&#39;re about to get some serious help in the kitchen up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was lucky to see her a few times before she passed. We dropped by for a visit each time we were on the mainland and I took the time to hold her hand, which was always warm and strong, even as she grew thin and weak.&lt;br /&gt;I have settled on a final snapshot - a moment that I have chosen to define her last days in my memory. Thanksgiving weekend, Sunday morning. Unseasonably warm and sunny. Peter, Evvy and I had come prepared with Rummy Tile and Evvy had a couple of piano pieces at the ready. We arrived at lunch and sat down to join her. Evvy shared her Starbucks banana bread, and Grandma shared her orange jello.&lt;br /&gt;She was quiet, but very happy to see us, and she recognized Peter and Evvy, but was bewildered by my haircut (she&#39;d never quite gotten used to, platinum-blonde pixie, and always took a few minutes to remember me.) I showed her a picture of our family from Ross and Cindy&#39;s wedding (my cousin and new cousin-in-law) and she painstakingly, almost obsessively worked at naming each person in the photo. It was clear that, although she knew that she knew each face she was seeing, she was having trouble accessing her stored memories of their names, ages and exact relationships to each other. It was hard for me to watch. I guess I was struck with the reality that no matter how healthy and vibrant a mind is, it must suffer decline at the end of its days... It made me think of how I had misplaced my work keys the week before and spent nearly an hour looking for them only to find they were hanging from my computer (I had used the flash drive on &amp;nbsp;my keychain that afternoon). I guess in some cases, mental decline starts early! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To distract Grandma from her herculean, but totally futile mental efforts, Evvy (with some encouragement) put on a little concert and played a couple of the piano pieces she had been working on at the time. This was met with Grandma&#39;s applause and an enthusiastic &quot;that&#39;s wonderful!&quot; Evvy was told that she is very talented, very beautiful, very special and that Oma is very proud of her. Those were words I heard, treasured and believed every time Grandma said them to me- even during my surly teenage moments. They were words to grow by, and they still hang in my heart like silver ribbons every time I think of my childhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rummy tile came next. Evvy, of course, played on Oma&#39;s team. The two of them were a force to be reckoned with. What Evvy missed, Oma spied, and together they made a great duo. We played two games because Grandma did not want us to go, then we wheeled her outside into the sunshine and soaked up a bit of vitamin D together. As tired as Grandma was, she still protested our departure. Evvy was happy to fill her quota of hugs, and Peter was told that he was looking good. As for me...&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp;&quot;Merilee, your hair looks different.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;No, Grandma, it&#39;s Rachelle, Merilee is my mom!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Noooo! Really?&quot; (While looking at me askance.)&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Yep. I&#39;m definitely Rachelle.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;You&#39;re looking so young!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Well, I AM a bit younger than my mom...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;It&#39;s nice to see you!&quot; (Still clearly believing I am my mom.)&lt;br /&gt;&quot;It&#39;s nice to see you too Grandma. I&#39;ve been here for a couple of hours now.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Are you leaving already? Say hi to Al for me.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;OK. I love you Grandma.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next time I visited, I wore a hat. I was immediately recognized as Rachelle. Clearly, in Grandma&#39;s mind, hair is a defining feature. Come to think of it, I don&#39;t think her hairstyle ever really changed during the entire time I knew her... Defining feature, indeed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had the chance to tell her everything I wanted to say the last time I saw her. She was in and out of awareness, but she listened and squeezed my hand. Her lips moved to say &quot;I love you&quot;. I couldn&#39;t have asked for more. But all the same, I think I&#39;ll leave her a parting note. You know me, just when you think I&#39;ve said it all, I go and think of something else to say...&lt;br /&gt;------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh Grandma. I am so thankful you had the chance to plant your seeds of encouragement and love in my heart and my daughter&#39;s. You have given me so much, and I think of you often as my hands are busy baking and crafting. I&#39;m pretty sure you gave me these hands, and I intend to keep them busy. I think this week I will buy a yogurt maker. Seems like something you&#39;d encourage me to do. Plus, homemade yogurt makes me think of you, and I&#39;ve got loads of rhubarb and raspberry sauce in my freezer to top it off with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m really glad you&#39;ve gone to be with God, I know how much you were looking forward to it. For the past 10 years you&#39;ve told me that Jesus was about to take you away. Better late than never, I say.&lt;br /&gt;So, say &quot;hi&quot; to Grandpa for me, OK. Tell him about everything he&#39;s missed and let him know we still think of him too, although, if Heaven works the way I hope it does, he probably already knows.&lt;br /&gt;Heaven&#39;s lucky to have you. If it&#39;s as good as they say it is, you should find plenty to do to keep you busy up there. You were never the type to stand around idly singing songs of praise, so I hope you have fun stocking the Holy Freezers and playing Rook with all the disciples. Oh, and please let Jesus know that he&#39;s looking a bit &quot;mager&quot;*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love,&lt;br /&gt;Rachelle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*low German for &quot;too thin for my liking, so you&#39;d better have another helping.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6340582285827202682/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=6340582285827202682&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/6340582285827202682'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/6340582285827202682'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2014/01/grandma.html' title='Grandma.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-2405231023291877304</id><published>2013-07-31T21:58:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2013-07-31T21:58:42.533-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Accomplishment Journal #1: July 30th and 31st&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Disclaimer: Below I will list all the (likely very boring) things I have accomplished, beyond day-to-day activities and chores, during my summer break. This is the first of many blogs designed to prove to myself that I am actually quite productive on a daily basis while not working. Yes, I should probably already know this, being me after all, but every year I get to September 4th and wonder &quot;did I actually DO anything during the past 2 months?!&quot; Then I feel woefully useless thinking about all the projects I SHOULD HAVE finished, but DIDN&#39;T. Anyhow, long story short: these blogs are likely to be snoozefests and are mainly for posterity. I will accept the mockery that comes with undertaking such a ridiculously anal-retentive project.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday&#39;s Chores:&lt;br /&gt;- Cleaned Fridge (it had been awhile...)&lt;br /&gt;- Emptied, washed and organized all kitchen drawers (with Evvy&#39;s help)&lt;br /&gt;- Took old batteries, light bulbs and electronics to Return-it.&lt;br /&gt;- Bought, hemmed and installed a curtain to conceal horrible dining room mess-magnet nook&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday&#39;s Fun:&lt;br /&gt;- Went on a nice long walk around neighborhood with Evvy and Max and discovered lots of boulevard plum trees that are ripe&lt;br /&gt;- Picked berries and veggies from our garden&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today&#39;s Chores:&lt;br /&gt;- Got new tires on Evvy&#39;s bike&lt;br /&gt;- Trip to Home Depot for towel racks, vanity and medicine cabinet mirror to replace existing upstairs bathroom fixtures&lt;br /&gt;- Donated some clothes and housewares that were hanging around&lt;br /&gt;- Poked around in crawlspace and discovered un-insulated pipes and lots of gaps in insulation&lt;br /&gt;- Washed some walls that were particularly disgusting&lt;br /&gt;- Fixed broken kitchen cabinet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today&#39;s Fun:&lt;br /&gt;- Went to the Bug Zoo with P and E&lt;br /&gt;- Had a nice dinner at Mom and Dad T&#39;s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over and out for today!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2405231023291877304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=2405231023291877304&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/2405231023291877304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/2405231023291877304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2013/07/accomplishment-journal-1-july-30th-and.html' title=''/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-4248798404723616105</id><published>2013-07-31T16:51:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2013-07-31T16:51:57.459-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Meme fairy came, but didn&#39;t leave me a quarter.</title><content type='html'>So I got tagged for this for a meme-thing. Basically it&#39;s like a chain letter, only you don&#39;t get anything out of it and it&#39;s more work. No, honestly, this will be fun, I think. Now I only need to come up with 7 things that people don&#39;t usually know about me. Which is hard to do because I&#39;m generally pretty open about my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, here we go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#1 - Although I haven&#39;t touched my violin in a few years, I used to be quite the musician. I studied seriously throughout my school years and did the whole Royal Conservatory of Music exams thing, as well as the requisite festivals and youth orchestras. Things got complicated when I moved to Ottawa - being a student and working as a House of Commons Page doesn&#39;t leave much time for practising! Which leads me to #2.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#2 - I moved across the country at the tender age of 17. Officially the youngest person on Carleton University campus in Ottawa (I figure Fawn was a close second) I started first year a few months shy of my 18th birthday. Made it hard to hit the social scene at first, since everyone else was 19 and would not get booted out of the campus bars. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#3 - I had a summer job washing cows and milking goats and feeding chickens... among other responsibilites. I worked at the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.agriculture.technomuses.ca/english/indexhpnagr.cfm&quot;&gt;Canada Agriculture Museum&lt;/a&gt; which is located on the Experimental Farms in Ottawa (they only experiment on plants - not animals!!!) I had a wonderful time working up close with farm animals and still would like to have a hobby farm one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#4 - I had a pet rat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#5 - I was in a motorcycle accident.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#6 - I have lupophobia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;#7 - My favourite animal is the sea otter.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/4248798404723616105/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=4248798404723616105&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/4248798404723616105'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/4248798404723616105'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-meme-fairy-came-but-didnt-leave-me.html' title='The Meme fairy came, but didn&#39;t leave me a quarter.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-353980291378794932</id><published>2012-09-26T13:04:00.003-07:00</published><updated>2012-09-26T13:04:35.785-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Raggedly Triumphant</title><content type='html'>I will tell you a funny story about yesterday. I was very upset at the time, but am now over it.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;Peter was gone yesterday morning, and he&#39;s an integral part of my morning routine. Normally Peter takes Ev to school on Tuesdays because I teach first block.  He also makes Evvy&#39;s lunch, supervises her breakfast, feeds the dog and helps to load/unload the dishwasher. So, as expected, I was in an absolute frenzy yesterday as I tried to do all this, plus get Evvy and myself out of the house with all of our supplies, in time to drop her off at before-school care and get me to work for first block English @ 8:20.  Five minutes before we&#39;re supposed to leave, she reminds me that she needs something (the picture of me) to bring for lost-and-found. The only computer in the house hooked up to the printer is Peter&#39;s, so I&#39;m frantically texting him for his password and trying to figure out Windows 8, which is like an alien planet to me. I am cursing through clenched teeth and pounding keyboards until, miraculously, it prints!&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;      Photo in hand, feeling raggedly triumphant, I run downstairs, bundle Evvy into the car, all the while mentally reviewing the departure checklist. Only when we&#39;re en route do I realize that I haven&#39;t brushed her hair. Too bad. No time to go back into the house and search for her brush, so I did the old 5-finger comb and shrugged it off as being a bad hair day. &lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;We arrive at her school and I am literally running down the hall dragging her by the hand because I now have 10 minutes to get to my own school before the bell rings and I am expected to deliver a well-prepared lesson that I have not yet photocopied. On the way out of her school, I notice several mothers carefully preening their children. Their children are wearing cute little dresses, slacks, ties, hair bands and - gasp - lip gloss. Shit. It is photo day. It is photo day and my child looks like she&#39;s crawled out of a bin. But at least she has her show and tell.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;I have yet to see the photo, but I&#39;m not optimistic. I sincerely hope there are re-takes. </content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/353980291378794932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=353980291378794932&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/353980291378794932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/353980291378794932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2012/09/raggedly-triumphant.html' title='Raggedly Triumphant'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-8611404244135440798</id><published>2012-07-28T18:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-07-28T18:54:53.065-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair-Brained? Part 3: The Colour</title><content type='html'>In my quest to save some serious coin and learn a new skill, I’ve embarked on the adventure of becoming my own personal hair stylist. My hair is now re-pixified. Hooray! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So… on to the second challenge: colouring my own hair! I shaved my head back in October for our school’s Cops for Cancer fundraiser and was amazed: my new-growth hair erupted in a dark, thick, curly mop. My natural colour now seems to be a level 5N like this: &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UYL8iPDFkrI/UAo8gLfpUPI/AAAAAAAADE4/gZjZX53Rf1o/s1600/5N%2BBrown.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UYL8iPDFkrI/UAo8gLfpUPI/AAAAAAAADE4/gZjZX53Rf1o/s320/5N%2BBrown.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It used to be a level 7 medium blonde like this: &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-etrcDkflWPo/UAo8mknwm3I/AAAAAAAADFE/PZ_qrkdaY9s/s1600/Level%2B7%2Bblonde.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;245&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-etrcDkflWPo/UAo8mknwm3I/AAAAAAAADFE/PZ_qrkdaY9s/s320/Level%2B7%2Bblonde.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was growing it out, I used a Semi-permanent 5RV like this:  &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QRHXGaCaV3I/UAo_VFvUezI/AAAAAAAADFo/ugNXodC7ii0/s1600/5R.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;276&quot; width=&quot;183&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QRHXGaCaV3I/UAo_VFvUezI/AAAAAAAADFo/ugNXodC7ii0/s320/5R.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lovely medium mahogany. Then spring came, well, at least on the calendar – not so much weather-wise. I needed to freshen things up and change my look a bit.   &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve always enjoyed having blonde hair, and I know that certain shades go well with my skin-tone and eyes, so I decided to bleach out my hair and aim for a level 10v like this: &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pes0aPjNJPI/UAo81kUKd2I/AAAAAAAADFQ/blTcTuw3Jws/s1600/10V.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;300&quot; width=&quot;300&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Pes0aPjNJPI/UAo81kUKd2I/AAAAAAAADFQ/blTcTuw3Jws/s320/10V.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first time around, I went to a local stylist who accomplished my 10v gial via the bleach and tone method, a two-step process: the colour is first stripped, then the shade is corrected using blue and violet, as desired, by using a toner. Why the blue and violet? If you’ve ever had your hair bleached or been intrepid enough to do it yourself, you know that bleaching results in shades somewhere between Ronald McDonald orange and Electric Lemon Yellow. This is because the keratin in hair is naturally yellow/gold/orange pigmented – it’s the hardest colour to strip out of hair! Anyhow, this method worked fabulously, but was both expensive and time consuming – not very “sustainable” considering my roots need touching up every 5 weeks or so. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to avoid the two-step method, not only because of the finickiness and stinkiness of bleach, but also because of the time it takes – likely at least 2 hours all told. I looked into high-lift colour and tried&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.ioncolorbrilliance.com/Permanent_Hair_Color/Shades/&quot;&gt; ION’s&lt;/a&gt; High-lift 12 Neutral, which I bought from Sally Beauty Supply. It lightened me to about a 9, but has left me with some golden brassy tones. Wanting to know why it didn’t work out the way I had intended, I did some research and discovered &lt;a href=&quot;http://killerstrands.blogspot.ca/search/label/Highlift%20Blonde&quot;&gt;THIS AWESOME SITE&lt;/a&gt;, which says that a salon-quality high-lift blonde can work, but only up to 3 levels. I&#39;d love to find some of the L&#39;Anza or X-Factor products locally, but I&#39;ll try what&#39;s at hand first. Back to Sally Beauty Supply. I’m now aiming for a level 8 blonde like this: &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K-A1q1VDyi4/UAo91mBeUrI/AAAAAAAADFc/x60vKQa0cns/s1600/8V.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;248&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-K-A1q1VDyi4/UAo91mBeUrI/AAAAAAAADFc/x60vKQa0cns/s320/8V.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;More realistic for a home job. I&#39;ll be using an ION High-lift 12 Blue-violet combo to deal with some of the brassiness that’s currently in my hair:  Wish me luck! I’ll post the results when I’ve run a batch through.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8611404244135440798/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=8611404244135440798&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8611404244135440798'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8611404244135440798'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2012/07/hair-brained-part-3-colour.html' title='Hair-Brained? Part 3: The Colour'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-UYL8iPDFkrI/UAo8gLfpUPI/AAAAAAAADE4/gZjZX53Rf1o/s72-c/5N%2BBrown.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-1688360036130461698</id><published>2012-07-24T09:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-07-24T09:02:11.007-07:00</updated><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="completed"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="projects"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="sewing"/><category scheme="http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#" term="updates"/><title type='text'>My Dressmaker&#39;s Dummy</title><content type='html'>She may not say much, and she looks like she&#39;s been styled by Dr. Frankenstein, but boy can she work her curves!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter helped me to make a “custom” dressmaker’s dummy out of an old T-shirt, 2 large rolls of duct tape, a heavy-duty coat hanger, some cardboard and some old polyester fiberfill from a couple of pillows that were ready to be gutted. I found the instructions &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.threadsmagazine.com/item/3631/close-fit-duct-tape-dress-form&quot;&gt;HERE&lt;/a&gt; and followed them as faithfully as I could. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The whole process took about 2 hours from beginning to end. I felt very claustrophobic for the last 20 minutes, as I was completely immobilized from the hips up. After Peter cut me out of my duct-tape prison, complete with sacrificial t-shirt, I carefully measured myself, and her, at regular intervals to ensure that I taped her to the correct dimensions. Then I popped in a coat hanger, sealed off the arm holes and stuffed her with fibrefill until she felt quite firm. I capped off her base and- voila! A duct-tape Rachelle. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G1oaVPAsqcE/UAtT-2-zHvI/AAAAAAAADJI/ipF5ZDVpQ7M/s1600/Skylights%2Bbefore.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G1oaVPAsqcE/UAtT-2-zHvI/AAAAAAAADJI/ipF5ZDVpQ7M/s320/Skylights%2Bbefore.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She has been indispensable in altering clothing. I’ve bought plenty of baggy dresses and tops at consignment, second hand and vintage stores. She helps me to transform them into form-fitting creations that prompt, “Where did you buy that?” type questions, which always makes my day!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I’m through all my alterations, I hope to start on a couple of dresses. I bought some patterns recently and am waiting to get inspired by a nice cotton print or two.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dress #1 – &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.victorypatterns.com/products/chloe/&quot;&gt;Chloe from Victory Patterns&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PYoQHLyguTU/UAtT_Dt0hfI/AAAAAAAADJU/X5mB2M4MOqw/s1600/Chloe_Cover.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;240&quot; src=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-PYoQHLyguTU/UAtT_Dt0hfI/AAAAAAAADJU/X5mB2M4MOqw/s320/Chloe_Cover.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dress #2 – &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.simplicity.com/c-387-project-runway.aspx&quot;&gt;From Simplicity&#39;s Project Runway collection&lt;/a&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1HeHn9Ns-I/UAtT_TlJTZI/AAAAAAAADJg/ngPI1Ikg80A/s1600/img023.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;224&quot; src=&quot;http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1HeHn9Ns-I/UAtT_TlJTZI/AAAAAAAADJg/ngPI1Ikg80A/s320/img023.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Duct-tape Rachelle currently hangs in the living room – not ideal for decor. But let’s be honest, in the company of a makeshift bunny enclosure, a large, fur-padded dog bed, a couch that’s close to its last days and a constant scattering of arts and crafts supplies on the coffee table, she’s not out of place. Décor? What décor? Pets and children are like anti-décor particles which negate all style and order. I wouldn’t give them up for the most glamorous white-leather covered, ceramics-adorned living room in the world!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I’ll rig up a hook and pulley system in my piano room/office so that I can lower her to the correct height for hemming dresses and skirts. Hmmm… better add that to my summer to-do list.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1688360036130461698/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=1688360036130461698&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/1688360036130461698'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/1688360036130461698'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2012/07/my-dressmakers-dummy.html' title='My Dressmaker&#39;s Dummy'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-G1oaVPAsqcE/UAtT-2-zHvI/AAAAAAAADJI/ipF5ZDVpQ7M/s72-c/Skylights%2Bbefore.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-8158214336516633023</id><published>2012-07-21T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-07-21T14:34:13.777-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair-Brained Part 2: Snip-snip!</title><content type='html'>And here it is: &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--6dk1xBxc4s/UAsd-G_TecI/AAAAAAAADF4/e-0Cr1ngvd8/s1600/IMG_1079.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;241&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--6dk1xBxc4s/UAsd-G_TecI/AAAAAAAADF4/e-0Cr1ngvd8/s320/IMG_1079.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I&#39;m pretty happy overall. The length is great. It will grow out well over the next 5 weeks until I trim it again. I&#39;ll need to take out a bit more volume at the back, but I don&#39;t have thinning scissors here @ the lake, so I&#39;ll get Morgan to attempt to de-bulk the back a bit more when we&#39;re home. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zuepa05F9qU/UAsd-eBwlvI/AAAAAAAADGE/mSVLowLFM-E/s1600/IMG_1078.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;250&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-zuepa05F9qU/UAsd-eBwlvI/AAAAAAAADGE/mSVLowLFM-E/s320/IMG_1078.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GYPJA0zrnAI/UAsd-gWBukI/AAAAAAAADGQ/ZoBn0r_kKhU/s1600/IMG_1080.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;262&quot; src=&quot;http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GYPJA0zrnAI/UAsd-gWBukI/AAAAAAAADGQ/ZoBn0r_kKhU/s320/IMG_1080.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yuWV-BXdj7I/UAsd-zAl6JI/AAAAAAAADGc/n1qcFX8upoM/s1600/IMG_1081.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;250&quot; src=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-yuWV-BXdj7I/UAsd-zAl6JI/AAAAAAAADGc/n1qcFX8upoM/s320/IMG_1081.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;As far as first attempts go, I&#39;m giving it an 8/10! &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Oh, and thank you, Morgan! :) &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9QdUxu5YvB0/UAsgIGQpuxI/AAAAAAAADGo/9nXXYn771Q0/s1600/IMG_1074.JPG&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;200&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-9QdUxu5YvB0/UAsgIGQpuxI/AAAAAAAADGo/9nXXYn771Q0/s320/IMG_1074.JPG&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8158214336516633023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=8158214336516633023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8158214336516633023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8158214336516633023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2012/07/hair-brained-part-2-snip-snip.html' title='Hair-Brained Part 2: Snip-snip!'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--6dk1xBxc4s/UAsd-G_TecI/AAAAAAAADF4/e-0Cr1ngvd8/s72-c/IMG_1079.JPG" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-8303301513841495955</id><published>2012-07-20T21:56:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2012-07-20T22:11:09.332-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Hair- Brained? Part 1: The Cut</title><content type='html'>In my quest to save some serious coin and learn a new skill, I’ve embarked on the adventure of cutting my own hair. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Peter’s been a self-styled man, in every sense of the word, for years now, and I’ve always been impressed by his talent for barbering? (barbery?) He comes by it honestly. Two of his grandparents were stylists – his grandpa ran the same barber shop for nearly 30 years. Lacking such a family legacy, I approached this task with some trepidation, but I’m a smart, resourceful woman; I pride myself on broadening my horizons. This should be a cinch, right?  &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Before my head-shave, I rocked an asymmetrical bob (like the one on my blog picture) for a couple of years, courtesy of the lovely and talented Jada, who lives in Duncan, but was worth the drive. Now it’s all about the pixie. It fits my lifestyle incredibly well: I bike to work. I garden with a sun hat on. I wake up as late as possible before work. I need a streamlined morning routine that does not involve flat irons!  &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z8GmM5S10hM/UAo1kVSp3UI/AAAAAAAADEE/NFa_Qc9_Xkk/s1600/Natalie-Portman-Pixie-fb-41828348.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z8GmM5S10hM/UAo1kVSp3UI/AAAAAAAADEE/NFa_Qc9_Xkk/s320/Natalie-Portman-Pixie-fb-41828348.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Enter the pixie: it requires almost ZERO styling time. No blow-drying, no flat-iron, no worrying about the humidity. Nope, just some nice Argan oil styling cream, a tousle or two and it’s off to work! &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt; &lt;a href=&quot;http://http://www.glamourmagazine.co.uk/beauty-and-hair/celebrity/hair/2011/05/celebrities-with-pixie-crops-hairstyle#!image-number=1&quot;&gt;Michelle Williams, Natalie Portman, Emma Watson, Halle Berry, Mia Farrow, Sarah McLachlan, Victoria Beckham, Katie Holmes&lt;/a&gt;: these women prove that pixie cuts are sexy, timeless and bold. Short locks are not for the feeble-hearted girl; they are for ladies-nay-women who have the confidence to carry their own femininity sans fairytale princess tresses. I mean,&lt;a href=&quot;http://images4.fanpop.com/image/polls/830000/830502_1315843761299_full.jpg&quot;&gt; look at Rapunzel.&lt;/a&gt; By the end of Tangled her life had “finally begun”, and she had a daring little brunette bob for her launch party. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt; &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BZsObJlD5mM/UAo1ktY_QuI/AAAAAAAADEQ/wCgQlUNCnhY/s1600/best-bobs-face-shape-L.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;214&quot; width=&quot;320&quot; src=&quot;http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BZsObJlD5mM/UAo1ktY_QuI/AAAAAAAADEQ/wCgQlUNCnhY/s320/best-bobs-face-shape-L.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt; Well, the thing is, I HAD a pixie... about 2 months ago. It has slowly been creeping into some kind of moppy mullet. Time for an attack on all fronts. Thankfully I have some help in the form of my stepdaughter Morgan, who is neither afraid of a little style adventure nor of a little pair of sharp scissors. She&#39;s tackling the back portion, and I&#39;ll hack away at the front. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Here’s the inspiration behind the cut I&#39;ve decided to attempt (thank you Ms. Emma Watson):  &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5mLTKFoBIvU/UAo151ubrVI/AAAAAAAADEc/zVbMsE4kZhQ/s1600/hair%2Bcut%2Bside%2Band%2Bback.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;244&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5mLTKFoBIvU/UAo151ubrVI/AAAAAAAADEc/zVbMsE4kZhQ/s320/hair%2Bcut%2Bside%2Band%2Bback.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;This is the best “before”picture that I could find -  that’s Morgan hiding behind me!  &lt;div class=&quot;separator&quot; style=&quot;clear: both; text-align: center;&quot;&gt;&lt;a href=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HlnjvozjrMY/UAo2Go6MQJI/AAAAAAAADEo/b_L_4yHYICQ/s1600/Out%2Bfor%2Ba%2Bwalk%2Bhair.jpg&quot; imageanchor=&quot;1&quot; style=&quot;margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em&quot;&gt;&lt;img border=&quot;0&quot; height=&quot;320&quot; width=&quot;233&quot; src=&quot;http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-HlnjvozjrMY/UAo2Go6MQJI/AAAAAAAADEo/b_L_4yHYICQ/s320/Out%2Bfor%2Ba%2Bwalk%2Bhair.jpg&quot; /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt; And I&#39;ll do the big reveal tomorrow!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8303301513841495955/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=8303301513841495955&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8303301513841495955'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8303301513841495955'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2012/07/hair-brained-part-1-cut.html' title='Hair- Brained? Part 1: The Cut'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media="http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/" url="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z8GmM5S10hM/UAo1kVSp3UI/AAAAAAAADEE/NFa_Qc9_Xkk/s72-c/Natalie-Portman-Pixie-fb-41828348.jpg" height="72" width="72"/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-5420272597877118907</id><published>2010-04-09T14:00:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-09T14:00:31.320-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A big pile of dirt.</title><content type='html'>Today I am excited because a big pile of dirt (soil, that is) is being delivered to our house. 4 cubic yards of the finest fish compost/lawn mix blend, all black and earthy and ready to do some good in our yard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, the whole Tyrrell family should be gleeful about this event and here is why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;b&gt;I&lt;/b&gt; get to be excited because it marks the beginning of the cut flower garden and new patch of lawn I have been envisioning all winter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy should be excited because a big pile of dirt means lots of worms to take for walks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter should be excited because shovelling dirt is a sexy husband thing to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Maqsoum should be excited because rolling in big piles of dirt is a time-honoured canine activity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try to take and post pictures of the dirt-related excitement as it unfolds this weekend. Please, please, pleeeeease don&#39;t let it rain!!!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/5420272597877118907/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=5420272597877118907&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/5420272597877118907'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/5420272597877118907'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/big-pile-of-dirt.html' title='A big pile of dirt.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-1028706526575148028</id><published>2010-04-08T15:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-08T15:10:33.710-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Those things she says.</title><content type='html'>I have no doubt that Evvy will relish language and reading much as her dear ol&#39; mom and dad do. Her pronounciation certainly belies her 2 1/2 year old tongue, but she loves to absorb and dispense various expressions that she hears, using them in appropriate situations, even if she does not understand them fully. Here are a few of my favourite Evvy-isms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;Indignantly, when I have done something that has offended her delicate sensibilities&lt;/i&gt;): &quot;Mama! Don&#39;t you do dat EVER again!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;When asked whether she needs help with something&lt;/i&gt;): &quot;No, sometimes I can do dat by myself because I am a BIG girl now.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;When asked what she is chattering about, apparently to no-one &lt;/i&gt;,) &quot;Oh. Sorry mama, I was just talking to myself.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;When asked what she is doing with the 3 earthworms she is carefully arranging on the lawn&lt;/i&gt;): &quot;I taking dem for a walk. Dat&#39;s important because they need deir exa-cise.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;While at work with her felt pens. &lt;/i&gt;): &quot;See mama, dat&#39;s an email for you. You can put it on your ipod.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;i&gt;When asked what her email says.&quot;&lt;/i&gt;): &quot;It says &quot;E-V-V-Y.&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think Peter already wrote about Shoygie and Eyoeyo, Evvy&#39;s self-named left and right feet, respectively, but I grin every time I think about it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my 5 minutes are now up...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1028706526575148028/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=1028706526575148028&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/1028706526575148028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/1028706526575148028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/those-things-she-says.html' title='Those things she says.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-6930640213629880742</id><published>2010-04-06T11:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-06T11:10:23.280-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Those who cannot do teach.</title><content type='html'>When it comes to P.E. I have no problem agreeing with this statement - although usually it just offends me. &lt;br /&gt;I somehow managed to end up teaching P.E. again this year, and for our spring units, which were divided up amongst teachers at random, I got Rugby. Seriously. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know the public education system is in the midst of collapse when I responsible for teaching a rugby unit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have watched a lot of Rugby in my lifetime. Well, to  be honest, I have watched a lot of very muscular legs and buttocks belonging to rugby players in my time. But I can&#39;t honestly say that I&#39;ve paid much attention to what their hands are doing. Something about a ball, I think. And then they jump on each other and wrestle or whatnot. Oh dear.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do like the New Zealand team&#39;s Haka. But that&#39;s more of a dance, isn&#39;t it? But, hey, that appeals to me... as do those short, short, shorts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sigh. Wish me luck. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today&#39;s 5-minute post was brought to you by an Outsiders Test. Good luck kids. Yes, I am doing something HIGHLY important right now...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6930640213629880742/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=6930640213629880742&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/6930640213629880742'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/6930640213629880742'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/those-who-cannot-do-teach.html' title='Those who cannot do teach.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-9160810901279134414</id><published>2010-04-01T14:26:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T14:26:31.866-07:00</updated><title type='text'>All up in my head.</title><content type='html'>I have this problem. I love writing, but I feel that in order to write a blog post, it needs to be carefully considered, well crafted and painstakingly edited. It is my perfectionism at its worst. I never have the time to achieve this, so I simply don&#39;t start. Pathetic, when I think about it, which I have been doing all day today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just now, I was talking to one of my very talented and conscientious students who was having the same problem with beginning an assignment with a tight deadline. She told me, &quot; I know I won&#39;t have time to do this to the best of my abilities, so I feel like I just shouldn&#39;t do it at all.&quot; I asked her why she felt this way and she replied, &quot;I don&#39;t know, I guess I just get all up in my head about it.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I looked at her for a second and said, &quot;you know what, so do I.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here I am. My 5-minute blog post of the day. I am about to hit &quot;post&quot; without reading this through or editing it at all and I kinda feel like barfing. Here we go...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/9160810901279134414/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=9160810901279134414&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/9160810901279134414'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/9160810901279134414'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2010/04/all-up-in-my-head.html' title='All up in my head.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-8856519600232564183</id><published>2009-12-06T15:42:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T15:46:42.199-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why I don&#39;t Facebook anymore.</title><content type='html'>Ah, Facebook. &lt;br /&gt;To say I have put this little life-gobbling application on the back-burner would be a gross understatement. My actual flesh-and-blood, person-to-person social life is currently occupying the back burner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This means that my blog has been plunked on our somewhat unreliable propane camp stove. Which means that my Facebooking* is festering away somewhere down in the cellar, hands clasped choirboy-style, gamely warbling, &quot;The sun&#39;ll come out tomorrow...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Why?&quot; you ask. &quot;Why are you neglecting this useful social networking tool? Why has your profile pic. not been changed in nearly a year?&quot;** Well the answer is simple. Sort of. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am scared of Facebook. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doing something simple like uploading a profile pic puts me perilously close to the black hole that will suck an entire productive day dry. First it starts by putting a photo up, then I want to see who else has put new photos up, then I want to comment on those photos, then I have to get all witty about commenting on people&#39;s status updates, then before I know it, it&#39;s dinnertime, my child and dog are eating each other, my husband has been sucked into his computer, my house has been hit by a tornado and I am still in my housecoat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There. See why Facebook is so scary?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;*please, Generation Z, help me out with a cooler word here&lt;br /&gt;**see what I mean about my social life? I&#39;ve got to  invent my own Greek Chorous in order to carry on a conversation.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8856519600232564183/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=8856519600232564183&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8856519600232564183'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8856519600232564183'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2009/12/why-i-dont-facebook-anymore.html' title='Why I don&#39;t Facebook anymore.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-2913042509693934392</id><published>2009-12-06T08:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-06T15:35:34.723-08:00</updated><title type='text'>2009 in Review Part 1: Ripplebliss</title><content type='html'>Like ocean currents, some parts of my life run fast and deep, others slow and shallow. Work is my Gulfstream right now, whisking away any vestige of free time that I try to hoard and depositing it who-knows-where. Maybe someone on the other side of the Atlantic is collecting all this leisure time it as it washes up on shore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, my &quot;New Year&quot; starts every September, so January is usually just a continuation of what I&#39;ve been doing all Fall and Winter. Jan, 2009 I was teaching 3 days a week and spending the rest of my time focused on Evvy and home improvement projects. I was comfortably busy and feeling quite productive. I had a weekly routine which included going to the gym, sharing childminding, visiting the library, going on Facebook and putting off my marking. Work had taken the back burner, which was where I liked it, and our home and yard were steadily becoming something we could be proud of. Peter&#39;s business was running well, too, despite the recession, which was something to be very thankful for. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will skim over the part of last spring when my job was whisked out from beneath me like a magician&#39;s tablecloth. Most of April through June were spent pondering the greener career grass that other career options seemed to offer. &quot;Hmmmm...&quot; said I, &quot;those chicks that hold up SLOW signs at construction sites are fairly well paid...&quot;&lt;br /&gt;But alas, I had to conclude that I am a teacher. There it is and here I am. Until an epiphany comes knocking on my door, you&#39;ll find me in a middle school classroom.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this mess sorted itself out as best it could and September saw some huge changes in how my teaching career looked, including a move to a different middle school and a return to work full-time. But first, I had Summer: Lovely Summer!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Summer was great, as it should be. We did our usual couple of weeks at Shuswap lake with my family and we all thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. I had fun working on  my waterskiing, which had fallen by the wayside over the past few years (think pregnancy and small baby), but a new water ski perked up my interest and I looked forward to mornings out on the water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The one hard part about the summer was losing Mao. He died unexpectedly in August and it was hard on everyone. We&#39;ve got plans to make a little memorial in the garden for him, come spring. One thing I knew, after losing Mao, was that no cat could fill those boots anytime soon, so we started slowly on our quest to find a dog. This quest finished with Maqsoum, a retired racing greyhound located for us through the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.ncgl.ca/&quot;&gt;Northwest Canadian Greyhound League&lt;/a&gt;. We picked him up in Calgary in mid-November and have been enjoying his company ever since. He&#39;s got a wonderful, calm temperament and has fit in very nicely with our family and routines. Evvy absolutely adores him, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the work front, my RTW reality hit mid-August. Thankfully I had already found a daycare for Evvy, which turned out to be the silver lining of this whole ordeal.Peter and his mom decided to alternate Mondays with Evvy, which is great for all involved. Ev then spends 4 days a week with a wonderful lady named Alison, whose ability to deal with preschoolers is nothing short of magical. Evvy has made many friends since September and loves telling me about her day. The kids go on regular outings, and produce enough arts and crafts to plaster every surface of my fridge on a weekly basis. It makes my life so much easier knowing that she is in good hands while I&#39;m toiling away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m also working much closer to home now, which has allowed me to bike to work. The trip to MEC to get all the equipment was pretty fun, and I&#39;ve gotten good use of it, riding to work on average 4 days a week. Of course, now that the roads are getting icy, I&#39;m going to have to come up with a Plan B!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My job has devolved somewhat since September, too. The position I applied for, and accepted back in the spring was to be on a team of 2 French Immersion teachers, sharing 2 grade 8 classes of 20 kids each. Pretty cushy numbers, and straight classes. I figured I could handle working full time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hah! Goes to show how naive I was. The posting was a lure, and I was the bigmouth bass. The first week of school in September, they restructured classes and came up with 2 grade 7/8 split classes of 30 kids each. Ouch! Needless to say, I was ready to apply for a WalMart greeter position after that news. Some negotiating took place, and I got Wednesdays off work to do marking and prep (unpaid, of course) I still have to teach the monster split classes 4 days a week. It&#39;s still way too much work, but at least I&#39;m keeping my head above water now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life is not ALL work and mommy-maid. I still have delusions of being a bellydancer in my spare time. My stream of creativity has trickled down to a drip, but like everything else in my life the past year, at least it is flowing in the right direction. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In June of last year, my good friend Sarah and I decided to go it on our own, and with the blessing of our longtime teacher Pamela, we formed our own duet: Sarelle. We&#39;ve been relishing our Friday night practice and coffee sessions ever since, and we&#39;ve even secured some gigs, one of which is on the mainland on the January 9th weekend (more details soon - come see us dance!) We will soon have a website, and had some gorgeous photos taken during the summer (much preening was involved!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That&#39;s where things stand in my life right now. For brevity&#39;s sake, I&#39;ve kept the digressions and anecdotes to a minimum, but I *do* have plans to fit blogging into my life somehow this New Year. I miss writing, and rarely allow myself the time I  need to indulge in this pastime. I definitely have enough inspiration in my life to work with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you and yours. Those of you I haven&#39;t seen or spoken to in awhile, I would love to reconnect over the break. I hope all is well, and invite you to stick around for the next blog about Evvy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh! And link to photos coming soon!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2913042509693934392/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=2913042509693934392&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/2913042509693934392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/2913042509693934392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2009/12/2009-in-review-part-1-ripplebliss.html' title='2009 in Review Part 1: Ripplebliss'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-5801856686293049983</id><published>2009-01-01T20:53:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-01-01T21:18:12.256-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Bowling.</title><content type='html'>Toilet bowling, that is. The weekly, or sometimes monthly act of cleaning the cuvette in which we relieve ourselves daily. Now that we have 2 bathrooms in our house, it&#39;s a double-dip of fun. But that&#39;s not the way that things should be, you see when we bought this house, the bathrooms were divided. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter got the small upstairs one (pedestal sink, shower, toilet), for his, erm, business. I chose the downstairs one which is a large full bath. More time consuming to clean, but the one that company is likely to see/use, therefore the one which needs to be cleaned properly. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, as things were to go, Peter was meant to keep his bathroom clean. I stocked it with Lysol wipes and Mr. Clean magic erasers for this very purpose. A squirt, brushy-brush and flushy-flush here and a few wipes there and bingo! It&#39;s in adequate condition for a male-owned bathroom. But no, alas, he could not even handle this small chore and I watched, in dismay, as the sink became toothpaste-crusted and the toilet started to look like pink and brown tie-dyed t-shirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fast forward to the week before Christmas. Visitors are imminent. I knew that there was no use in asking Peter to clean his toilet. He is very adept at ignoring all requests for help on the home maintenance and cleanliness front, especially when he does not fancy the job at hand. I don&#39;t know how he manages, but he actually makes me feel GUILTY for asking him. Sick, I know!* Anyhow, asking, nagging, pleading and begging are not terribly effective and I lack the sociopathic nerve to take his kneecaps out with a baseball bat, so I decided to take care of the worst of it, ie. cleaning the toilet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off I went to put a new sponge on the &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.scrubbingbubbles.com/products.aspx?product=toilet-cleaning-system&quot;&gt;toilet cleaning thingy&lt;/a&gt; (aka. a fresh brush MAX) which I inherited with the house. Anyhow, if you watch the little video on the link in the last sentence, you will see that a sponge is clipped onto the end of a wand. What it does not show is what happens when the wand does not click fully into place. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So there I was, scrubby scrub, trying to remove some of the worst scum in the drain hole when *click!* the sponge detaches and becomes wedged just out of sight. &lt;br /&gt;&quot;Uh-oh!&quot; I thought and I got some BBQ tongs and attempted to dislodge it, to no avail. In fact, I think I only succeeded in pushing it down further. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next step: rubber gloves. Rolled &#39;em on as high as I could, and reached down into the drain hole, but my fingers were barely scraping the sponge. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The plunger was just a bad idea. All that did was push the sponge down further. Toilet no worky anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It&#39;s taken until today for us to pull up the toilet, and with much nagging and begging on my part. Peter hates home repairs even more than he hates cleaning, which usually leaves me holding the handy-woman wrench. For this, though, I needed his male upper-body strength for the toilet lifting part. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still no luck, though. We can&#39;t see the sponge anywhere, and now the bathroom smells like poo-drain. Tomorrow I will go get a snake and we&#39;ll if we can&#39;t find that sucker... The, er, good news is that it offers us an opportunity to&lt;a href=&quot;http://www.hammerzone.com/archives/bath/fixt_repair/toilet/wax_ring/replace.htm&quot;&gt; replace the wax seal on the toilet&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know. Every cloud has a silver lining.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/5801856686293049983/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=5801856686293049983&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/5801856686293049983'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/5801856686293049983'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2009/01/bowling.html' title='Bowling.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-4142991534268478367</id><published>2008-11-30T22:41:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T22:54:24.368-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Dragons</title><content type='html'>This week I will tame some dragons. Some I&#39;ve hatched myself, a few have come from who-knows-where and some still swoop way up overhead - I have only to guess what those look like, and my imagination does not lean towards the cute and cuddly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It won&#39;t be easy. They&#39;re equipped to put up quite a tussle. But they need to know who&#39;s boss and should have seen this coming. Granted, dragons are not ones for foresight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dragon taming is all about the element of surprise. They all sit and ponder, or fly on reconnaissance or lie around, fat from all the gorging, feeling safe in their numbers. The trick is to whisk one away without the others noticing. Then separate &#39;em and work on &#39;em one-by-one. As their numbers dwindle, the rest in the group begin to loose their poise - they look around, wonder, &quot;where did all the others go&quot; and get all sloppy. The last few are usually a breeze.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;ve got two to tackle tomorrow. Oh, and treats don&#39;t work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Collar, chain, electric whip, megaphone and courage: Check! Here we go.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/4142991534268478367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=4142991534268478367&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/4142991534268478367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/4142991534268478367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2008/11/dragons.html' title='Dragons'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-6402068001271585570</id><published>2008-11-05T21:09:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T21:45:49.986-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Actually, she&#39;s 14 months old now, but who&#39;s counting?</title><content type='html'>So, er, I guess I have been incommunicado for awhile. &lt;br /&gt;I&#39;d like to blame it on going back to work, or on the time I&#39;m now spending doing marking in the evenings, or on my somewhat fitful efforts to get back into shape, or the fact that I can&#39;t even get near a computer while Evvy&#39;s around without her wanting to touch/smash/garble it. But these are all cop-outs. I just got out of the swing of things, and now it&#39;s going to take effort to get back on track.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, on to my daughter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy is still very much Evvy. In fact, she becomes more Evvy with every passing day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You, too can do the &quot;Evvy&quot; by following these simple steps:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Repeating your favourite words in a variety of intonations and volumes a la Shakespearean actor. Gesticulating and pointing is also important - large gestures please, you are playing to an audience. &quot;Dada? Da-da! dadaDaDA! Daaaaa-dah! DADA!!!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Toddling around cheerfully with a variety of random items to proudly display to household members. Choices include: dish gloves (put on hands by self), pictures of family members, a tin of cat food, a container full of playing cards or one of daddy&#39;s sneakers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Declaring that you want &quot;DOW!&quot; and accompanying this assertion with a nose-dive flop every time someone picks you up and attempts to hold you for more than 2 seconds.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Being obsessed with dogs, dog books, dog sounds and dog pictures. Having no fear of dogs whatsoever, even when being bowled over and slurped mercilessly on the face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Running off in whatever direction mama or dada DON&#39;T want you to go. Coyly looking back over your shoulder when called, then running away even faster with gleeful giggles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Loving your weekly routines and clapping enthusiastically because today is swimming day with daddy, or Grandma and Tessa-dog day, or playtime with Izzy day. Greeting nap time and bedtime with &quot;night-night&quot; waves and blankie cuddles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eating next to nothing one day and pretty much everything the next.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; - Waving &quot;bye-bye&quot; to anyone in the vicinity who makes eye contact - especially cashiers and street people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Learning new words every day. Very cute new words. &lt;br /&gt;Some examples:&lt;br /&gt;A clock is a clicking &quot;tick tock&quot; sound made with the tongue. Not to be confused with &quot;horse&quot;, which is &quot;nay!&quot; THEN a clicking sound with the tongue to indicate galloping. &lt;br /&gt;Strawberries are &quot;wa-wee-wee&quot;s, then a smacking sound (which also means &quot;food&quot; or &quot;eat&quot;)&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Please&quot; (which we are encouraging like crazy right now) is &quot;tleee!&quot; and my favourite remains &quot;fish&quot; which is an enthusiastic &quot;shhhhhh!&quot;&lt;br /&gt;She also  has some well-pronounced words like &quot;keys&quot;, &quot;duck&quot;, &quot;cow&quot; &quot;night-night&quot; and &quot;towel&quot; which can be recognized by your average person on the street. The rest take some deciphering.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There, got those instructions down? Now it&#39;s your turn to try! &lt;br /&gt;Of course, all this is less effective if you are not a toddler. They also do not work well without the big blue eyes, chubby belly and soft blond curls. you would also do well to douse yourself in &quot;Essence of Cute&quot; before giving it a go in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that&#39;s all the Evvy news for now. I guess I should share a bit about myself, but I will save that for another day. Not that you can handle any more suspense...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/6402068001271585570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=6402068001271585570&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/6402068001271585570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/6402068001271585570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2008/11/actually-shes-14-months-old-now-but.html' title='Actually, she&#39;s 14 months old now, but who&#39;s counting?'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-8844306313760425894</id><published>2008-09-04T19:33:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-11-05T21:09:48.681-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Evvy is one year old!</title><content type='html'>(NB. I actually wrote this post in early September, but never got around to publishing it!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I look back at the first few posts I made after Evvy was born and realize what a difference a year makes; not only to my daughter but also to my own life as a mother. &lt;br /&gt;I am beginning to see why many women consider having a second (or, bless my heart, THIRD child). Motherhood, to some extent, becomes more involved, but also more enjoyable with a toddler. Really, I figure that one is an ideal age. Here&#39;s why:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She can walk, but cannot yet outrun me.&lt;br /&gt;She is still light enough to carry, but chubby and delicious with baby fat.&lt;br /&gt;She still needs me, but loves exploring her new world independently, too.&lt;br /&gt;She knows enough words to tell me basically what she wants, but not enough to talk back or tell me off.&lt;br /&gt;Plus: She is so darn cute... especially the way she toddles around like a little dinosaur-robot-baby.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;These days Evvy is a busy little free spirit. Now that she can walk, that&#39;s pretty much all she wants to do... and she doesn&#39;t look back. She&#39;s always carting things around here and there - both hands are constantly full of toys, shoes, or random objects that she figures would improve Feng Shui if moved to another room. It&#39;s a whole new dimension in tidying up the house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am glad that I have a confident, outgoing, curious daughter, though. It has made going back to work part-time a bit easier in that she has adapted really well to being away from me and doesn&#39;t shed a single tear when I leave. I am lucky in that my family and friends have stepped up to be caregivers  - and ideal situation. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy is spending Mondays with daddy, Tuesdays with Grandma T. and Wednesdays with Sam and her daughter, Izzy who is almost exactly Evvy&#39;s age. On Thursdays I take Izzy for the day so Ev gets to spend 2 days with her little friend! So far, things have worked out great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That being said, as the year progresses, I will miss being an exclusively stay-at-home mom. Hmmm... I also miss some other things already, for instance cuddles, which are now few and far between. It&#39;s go-go-go these days and Evvy does not want to be held back, or even held, for very long. Diaper changes could be mistaken for a wrestling match with a greased pig. She does still enjoy bath time, though and loves going to the swimming pool, which she will be doing every Monday with Peter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy eats pretty well and sleeps pretty well now, minus a few glitchy days here and there. She babbles constantly and is learning some new words, for instance &quot;nnnnnnnnnno!&quot; which Grandma T taught her unintentionally while scolding her dog, Tessa. She can say shoe &quot;shhh-oh&quot;, fish &quot;ashhh&quot;, num-num (for food), kitty kat &quot;ki-khhh&quot; and DVD (ie. Baby Einstein) &quot;dee-dee-dee&quot;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy&#39;s birthday was a fun and well-attended event. Lots of friends and family were present to enjoy our home and deck. I spent several hours preparing a completely homemade and elaborately decorated birthday cake - a task that every mom worth her salt should do at least once in her life, just to find out how much effort it takes!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;m looking forward to seeing the changes that this year holds in store for my little Ev. She seems to be growing in leaps and bounds and I can only imagine that this will continue. I thought I&#39;d miss having a little babe-in-arms as Evvy grew,  but I love how I can interact with her more every day and I am amazed at her adventurousness, spunk and sweet disposition. All in all, I couldn&#39;t be happier to have a toddler!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8844306313760425894/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=8844306313760425894&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8844306313760425894'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8844306313760425894'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2008/09/evvy-is-one-year-old.html' title='Evvy is one year old!'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-8141621060043943556</id><published>2008-08-29T21:05:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-29T21:53:30.443-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The great triathlon.</title><content type='html'>I figure that managing a household is a bit like swimming. Whether you&#39;re going forwards or backwards you are constantly trying to keep your head above the water. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Working is a bit like running, then. While at work, it&#39;s important to pace yourself, keep up with the pack, stay hydrated and visualize your destination (ie. TGIF). &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that makes being a mom something like cycling... up Mt. Everest. It&#39;s hard work, but the further you get, the more spectacular the view behind you becomes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here&#39;s the thing: just because you can run a marathon doesn&#39;t mean that you could cycle the Tour de France or Swim the English Channel. Each sport takes different training and different muscles. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I got the whole swimming and running thing down pat. Swim in the morning, run, run, rest, run, run during the day, swim, swim and rest at night. K. Got it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then suddenly it&#39;s no longer swimming and running. It&#39;s swimming and cycling. At first it felt like I had ridden my bicycle clear off the pier and was frantically pedaling underwater trying not to drown. Now it&#39;s more like I&#39;m cycling around the pool and occasionally jumping in to do a few laps whenever there&#39;s time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, although I haven&#39;t forgotten HOW to run, some muscles have been neglected for the past year and now I&#39;m expected to start a triathlon next week, like, BAM! Ouch. Things are going to be pretty sore for a little while, which is to be expected. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I&#39;m up for it, though. Mentally, I&#39;m there. They say that visualization is important, so I visualize myself prepared: got my goggles, fanny pack water bottle, vented hat and padded bike shorts on... &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and I look like a complete dork.</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/8141621060043943556/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=8141621060043943556&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8141621060043943556'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/8141621060043943556'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2008/08/great-triathlon.html' title='The great triathlon.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-2541702108222463726</id><published>2008-08-19T14:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-19T15:33:33.338-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The countdown begins...</title><content type='html'>Id I&#39;d have known how quickly this year would fly by, I would have spent less time sleeping and more time... Hey! Hang on, me. Stop being hard on myself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I DID spend considerably less time sleeping than I ever have in my life, and more time doing pretty much everything a mom and lady of the house should do. In short, I don&#39;t regret a thing about my maternity leave, except that it&#39;s almost over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to the nightmares:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will my leaden feet to plod down the dark hallway, as that familiar syrupy wave of foreboding oozes its way down my back. The hollow clack-clack of my sensible shoes echoes on for miles and I am hyperventilating. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is the first day of school and everything is wrong. Class started an hour ago, thanks to some administrative decision made without my knowledge. Worse yet, the school has been completely renovated and somehow my classroom has now found its way down into the catacombs.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, I reach the appointed place. Room 13. Never a good sign. A dank smell emanates from the door vent. The hastily scrawled sign on the door reads &quot;Mme. R. Tyrel&quot;. They have spelled my name wrong. Again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sighing, I push open the heavy door. My heart plummets as I scan the front of the tiny, gray-walled classroom. What? Where is all my stuff? No fridge, no whiteboards, no overhead projector, no computer, no sink!? All my belongings are heaped in cardboard boxes in the corner. The cardboard boxes appear to be covered in graffiti. &lt;br /&gt;Then I remember. I can fix up my room in time. I must keep it together. My students are waiting for me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I step into my kingdom. By the flickering of a single prehistoric fluorescent bulb I realize that the whole room is packed with teenagers. The bad kind. They are greasy, unruly and rank with B.O. Slumped on, over and under desks, they leer at me like a pack of hyenas, baring sharp yellow canines. My heart races. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;YOU&#39;re our new teacher? Hah!&quot; says the ringleader, a lanky black-haired youth. I stare, mouth agape, amazed that his skin can sustain so many piercings.&lt;br /&gt;I straighten my back, jut out my chin and reply with only the slightest quiver in my voice. &quot;My name is Mme. Tyrrell, I am indeed your new teacher.&quot;&lt;br /&gt;Before I can take a single step towards my desk, which appears to be made of cinder blocks and milk crates, the taunting starts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Well, c&#39;mon then,&quot; the glassy voice of the popular girl chimes in, &quot;teach us!&quot; &lt;br /&gt;&quot;Yeah! Teach us!&quot; the minions snarl in cacophony, looking to their adolescent ice-queen for approval.&lt;br /&gt;She takes a moment to glance away from her hand mirror, lipstick tube still poised in her right hand, one perfectly plucked eyebrow arched high. A thin, cruel smile creeps onto her face. &quot;Oh, and WTF are you WEARING?&quot;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here it is. The moment of horror. I slowly look down at my attire, expecting to see the dark trouser jeans and red crew-neck sweater I so carefully selected that morning. Instead, my eyes fall upon the vast expanse of my own doughy belly. I am wearing a belly dance costume. A really, really tight, sparkly seafoam bedlah. With no skirt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All I can hear is a chorus of LOLs. That and the sound of my career imploding like &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-HJHfbhEMjo&quot;&gt;a pop can in grade 8 science class&lt;/a&gt;. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The shame. The shame!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, can you tell I&#39;m looking forward to going back to work?</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/2541702108222463726/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=2541702108222463726&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/2541702108222463726'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/2541702108222463726'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2008/08/countdown-begins.html' title='The countdown begins...'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-9007646912210734023</id><published>2008-08-03T21:36:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T22:24:15.667-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Evvy is 11 months old!</title><content type='html'>Here it comes, the countdown to toddlerhood! Evvy has taken her first steps already (as wobbly as all 3 of them were) and is slowly becoming more confident and adventuresome on her feet. She can &quot;dance&quot; to music and stand holding an object in each hand, something she likes to do for hours on end! She also knows how to crawl up stairs. Child safety gates to the rescue!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month her pointing skills have evolved. They started with a general wave in one direction, followed by a palm-up pinching position, as if she were examining an offensive speck of dust that had the audacity to drift in her direction (complete with very posh outstretched pinky). Then it was a hands-sideways open-palmed gesture that one would use for hailing a taxicab, and finally that index finger started bravely pointing the way to... um, well, sometimes I have no clue what she&#39;s pointing at, but I always take my best guess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Her favourite things to point at are: people she knows, other children, people she doesn&#39;t know but that smile at her, dogs, Mao, cats other than Mao, flowers, random things she sees out the window, boats (at Shuswap lake) and anything we have that she wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&quot;Mao&quot; is by far her favourite person right now. She says his name CONSTANTLY. She is, however, kind enough to vary the tone and volume of her &quot;Mao&quot;s from &quot;MMMMMMMMMMMAO!&quot; to &quot;maomaomaomaomao&quot; (accompanied by pointing and waving). She can say other new things too, like &quot;dah&quot; for dog and &quot;bah&quot; for ball, but Mao wins it every time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She waves &quot;hi!&quot; &quot;bye-bye&quot; and &quot;night-night&quot; now and loves to clap. She will clap when excited about something but it&#39;s mainly for musical purposes these days. Grammy Friesen started teaching her &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.musicforchildren.ca/about-the-program/&quot;&gt;Kodaly rhythms&lt;/a&gt; like &quot;ti-ti-ta&quot; and Ev will now clap happily and say &quot;dit-dit-dah&quot; along with it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I bought her a kids&#39; percussion set for fun, just to see what she&#39;d do with it, and hoping she managed to inherit some of the musical talent gushing through her genes on both sides. Thankfully, she loves tapping her little tambourine banging together cymbals and shaking her wooden maracas.Evvy also enjoys putting objects in to containers and taking them back out again. I bought her a cool &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.chapters.indigo.ca/toys/Put-Peek-Birdhouse-Manhattan-Toy/011964409655-item.html&quot;&gt;birdhouse&lt;/a&gt; which provides hours of amusement.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The highlight of this month was our trip to Shuswap Lake. Evvy spent lots of time with all sorts of family members and loved every minute of it, not to mention every scrap of attention she could get. Most of the extended Friesen family was there for a weekend, which was great because I rarely get time to visit with my aunts, uncles, cousins and their kids for more than a day at Christmas time. Evvy really enjoyed playing with her second cousins, Caden and Laine, both of whom were very patient and responsible with her. Of course, her time with Grammy and Grandpa, Uncle Mike and Jord was far too short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the beach and the water, we explored many fun things to do with a bucket and some rocks, but the water was too cold for a baby swim, so Grammy found a kiddie pool and we filled it up so that Evvy could splash around in it. Good times all around!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy did go in the boat, which was fine, all things considered. She showed no fear of the motor or the wind or the movement, but her lifejacket pretty much engulfed and smothered her into an unhappy mess. I think it will fit better next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The rides to and from Shuswap were as expected. Some much needed rest stops and soothing needed to be done along the way, but we made it. The cat was, thankfully, very well behaved and Evvy did well on the ferries, holding her own in the kids&#39; play area alongside older tots.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In terms of eating and sleeping, Evvy is transitioning from two naps to one nap per day, usually starting sometime between 11am and noon, depending on how late she sleeps in. I use the term &quot;late&quot; loosely, as she routinely gets up at 5am, wanting a diaper change and bottle. She will then usually settle until 7 or 8, though. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New foods this month include cucumbers, peas, tomato, melon, perogies and pasta. She has become somewhat picky of late, and likes to throw her unwanted food on the floor and say, with a very concerned expression, &quot;uh-oh!&quot; Her other strategy for getting rid of unwanted food is trying to feed it to whoever is around. &quot;Da!&quot; she will say, thrusting half-masticated morsels into your face. A polite &quot;no thankyou&quot; is usually not enough to deter her. Pretending to eat the tasty tidbit is the best policy and usually elicits a grin. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so much more that I could say  - this month has been a big one in terms of development. I do need some sleep though, so I&#39;m off to bed preparing for my little sparrow to chirp me awake at 5 again tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Night night (accompanied by enthusiastic hand flapping)</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/9007646912210734023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=9007646912210734023&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/9007646912210734023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/9007646912210734023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2008/08/evvy-is-11-months-old.html' title='Evvy is 11 months old!'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-7826378778894809203</id><published>2008-07-24T21:45:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-07-24T22:13:40.111-07:00</updated><title type='text'>A blogging kick in the pants.</title><content type='html'>So, my good friend, the lovely Yukon-mom &lt;a href=&quot;http://fawnahareo.com/2008/07/24/3-things/&quot;&gt;Fawnahareo&lt;/a&gt;, noticed that I haven&#39;t blogged in awhile, so she tagged me with a meme. This one was pretty straightforward. You ask your siggy-other (in my case, hubby) to tell you 3 things about  yourself. You know, the deep, important stuff; and then publish this information on your blog. You also have to pick more victims and then go to their blogs and leave them a comment, letting them know that they have been tagged. The comment must end with the word ‘pthththth’. Dunno why, it just does. Hey, I didn&#39;t make up the rules, here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter came to me this afternoon wanting to get at it right away. By &quot;get at it&quot; I mean, of course, getting the blog started. Being Peter, though, I know I will beat him to posting. Firstly, because &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.peaeater.com&quot;&gt;his blog&lt;/a&gt; has flatlined since about Christmas. It will take some serious CPR (Copious Proofreading n&#39; Re-writing) to get him anywhere near a new post. Secondly, he takes the words &quot;free time&quot; very seriously and rarely gets anything of merit accomplished while he&#39;s enjoying these precious moments. Currently, he is playing some sort of heroically-titled WW2 game. &quot;Soles of Justice?&quot; &quot;Mettle of Honour?&quot; &quot;Brave to the Grave?&quot; I dunno, they all sound so much like something George W. would say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, this leads me to Peter&#39;s first observation about me which is, in his words:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;You always have to feel like you&#39;re being useful. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&#39;d even take that one a step further. It&#39;s not only about me feeling like I&#39;m being useful, I actually have to be useful. Accomplish stuff. Even in my &quot;free time&quot; I am accomplishing stuff. Like this blog. I am  blogging. That is useful, right? &lt;br /&gt;Anyhow, he&#39;s dead on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he said something which I think is a huge compliment, mainly because I spend so much time agonizing over decisions in this department which has chewed up most of my &quot;free time&quot; for the last 4 months:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt;You have a good sense of aesthetic (ie. home decorating, garden design)&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He concluded with an insight about me that I cannot even begin to explain:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=&quot;font-style:italic;&quot;&gt; You are a sucker for pugs and other fat animals in general.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let&#39;s see... otters, pugs, tubby kitties. Yeah, I guess he&#39;s right on that one. I like my critters pudgy and fuzzy. Perhaps this stems from my childhood obsession with plush toys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There. Mission complete. A whole  blog written in the amount of time it took Peter&#39;s little computer-soldiers to burn down an enemy barracks. Snap to it, Private Tyrrell, the web is waiting!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmmmm... who shall I pick on? This is a tricky one. I know lots of bloggers, but not many of them are couples who blog. I will pick on &lt;a href=&quot;http://jorees.wordpress.com/&quot;&gt;Joanna&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href=&quot;http://range.wordpress.com/&quot;&gt;Ranjit&lt;/a&gt;. Tag, you&#39;re it!</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/7826378778894809203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=7826378778894809203&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/7826378778894809203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/7826378778894809203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2008/07/so-my-good-friend-lovely-yukon-mom.html' title='A blogging kick in the pants.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-1900412000356814527</id><published>2008-07-01T20:20:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2008-08-03T21:36:13.625-07:00</updated><title type='text'>When Evvy was 10 months old.</title><content type='html'>I wrote this way back when and forgot to post it! Oops! Well, here comes 2 months worth of updates on Evvy!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;June 30, 2008: From crawling to standing, Evvy is quickly gaining balance and mobility. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She is crawling as quick as her chubby thighs can take her and pulling herself up on everything (and everyone) she can reach. There have been a lot of head bonkings (and head-bonking related tears) as she has learned how to get up and sit back down more gracefully. She is now standing up on her own for a few seconds at a time and is able to move around furniture on her feet. Perhaps she will be walking by the time she&#39;s a year old!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy has lots of new sounds this month - some of her favourites: &quot;gee-gee&quot; &quot;blab&quot; and &quot;mmmah&quot; (which I think means &quot;Mao&quot;). She still squeals and squeaks, and &quot;oh&quot; and &quot;ah&quot; remain her preferred vowels, but I am glad to hear a variety in her babbling vocab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She likes to wrinkle up her nose and sniffle - I believe this comes from me trying to teach her to smell flowers, which are among her favourite things to touch and hold (and occasionally shred). Also, there&#39;s the waving. We&#39;ve taught her to wave bye-bye, but she hasn&#39;t quite narrowed it down to the appropriate times. All she knows is when she waves, she usually gets attention and often waving in response. She makes friends all over the place: in supermarkets, in restaurants, at the library. Speaking of which, our &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.gvpl.ca/about_the_library/branches_and_hours/Saanich_Centennial.php&quot;&gt;local library&lt;/a&gt; is a wonderful place for kids and only a short walk away, so we make frequent trips there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy loves books and bedtime stories (who doesn&#39;t). She likes her Touch n&#39; Feel farm animals book and bug book the best. We read books on the potty, too, helping to improve the overall bathroom experience. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The quest for independence has already taken hold - our little one is busy learning to do things on her own. Because she no longer wants to be spoon-fed, most meals consist of finger foods and the resulting mess of such foods. My food prep methods have changed along with her eating habits. I&#39;ve been busy boiling, cubing and freezing  fruit and veggies. I&#39;ve baked bread, loaves and muffins with lots of healthy ingredients. I cook up brown rice in chicken broth and whole wheat pasta to be dipped in pureed yams or squash. I make sticky balls out of rice cereal and pureed pear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In general, she eats most of these things, as well as bits and pieces of whatever we&#39;re having for dinner. She does not like meat yet, but I can get her to eat kidney beans and the odd bowl of plain yogurt with fruit. She also still takes about 20 ounces of formula a day, for protein and fats. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bedtime is at 8:00pm these days, preceded by our usual bedtime routine: bath, jammies, storytime (with dada is best), brush teeth, night-nights and boppy. We still use our little &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.getmobi.com/&quot;&gt;glowing night light man&lt;/a&gt; and our &lt;a href=&quot;http://www.marpac.com/soundscreen.asp&quot;&gt;white noise machine&lt;/a&gt;. Both of which come with us when we travel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy remains very social and outgoing. She hasn&#39;t really hit a shy phase yet and has no separation anxiety to speak of. That may change, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am enjoying being a stay-at-home mom right now and have started to think (with regret) about going back to work part-time. I still have the whole summer to enjoy being home with Evvy exclusively, so I will try not to think about all that yet!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pictures to come...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1900412000356814527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=1900412000356814527&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/1900412000356814527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/1900412000356814527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2008/07/when-evvy-was-10-months-old.html' title='When Evvy was 10 months old.'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22419723.post-1740647948563087203</id><published>2008-06-13T09:22:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2008-06-13T09:32:07.307-07:00</updated><title type='text'>May and June photos</title><content type='html'>Just posted some new photos from May June on my Web Albums site. I have yet to capture a photo of Evvy standing up (which she does all the time now) or crawling, because usually I&#39;m tooo busy trying to catch her or chase her! I will work on that for this week!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://picasaweb.google.com/ripplebliss/Evvy910Months&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This month so far has been pretty good. Life still revolves around the new house. We got brand new windows and back dooors, as well as some shiny new countertops. I&#39;ve been re-covering some furniture and sorting the last of our garage sale items. We&#39;ve gotten some more gardening and landscaping done, during the rare sunny days. I&#39;m pretty determined to get through my DIY home checklist before I head back to work in September. Something tells me I won&#39;t be getting nearly as much done once I&#39;m working!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evvy and I both fighting a cold, which we&#39;ve passed on to Peter (oops!). Noses are running like faucets around here and much fuss is made when I try to wipe up snotty little cheeks and chin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peter has been working very, very hard this month and he&#39;ll be away for the majority of next week and the one after, so I&#39;m trying to prep myself ahead of time for the lack of any major accomplishments. Now that Evvy is fully mobile and determined to learn to walk, I can&#39;t leave her unwatched for more than a second! But more on that at the end of the month...</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/feeds/1740647948563087203/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=22419723&amp;postID=1740647948563087203&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/1740647948563087203'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/22419723/posts/default/1740647948563087203'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://ripplebliss.blogspot.com/2008/06/may-and-june-photos.html' title='May and June photos'/><author><name>Rachelle Tyrrell</name><uri>https://plus.google.com/104634822429531021563</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='//lh5.googleusercontent.com/-R9JWH2t85cY/AAAAAAAAAAI/AAAAAAAAEZA/8ZD6t3ySHm8/s512-c/photo.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry></feed>