Daily Travels and Things I Saw

Seriously, I know our world isn’t quite this sad. Although both scenes depicted images that could be interpreted as distasteful, sacrilegious and possibly disrespectful, I leave it to you to decide.

Me? I thought totally hilarious on both counts. Gotta love the creativity of the human race.

 

Totally dig this ride. You can’t see the detail – and although the windows are scary black, as in – can’t-see-inside-so-there-might-actually-BE-a-body-in-there black, I’m pretty sure this is a non-servicing Hearse. The center of the hub caps sport some pretty sweet skulls that I am sure would sparkle in the sun had it not been hidden behind the clouds. I hope I get to see this Hearse when the owner has finished his vision. I would call Pimp My Ride for this bad boy – oh yes I would.

Now seriously – how can you NOT laugh at this? On the side of  an overpass in Smiths Falls. Hey, we know who will prevail in the end, but it’s nice to know someone is pulling for the pigeons.

The Plants are Scaring Me. . .

Because they are still alive.

Yes, me, the blackest thumb in all the universe has been duped by the four plants in my house.

It started with one. One stupendously gorgeous orchid that was given to me last year on my birthday by my mother-in-law (thank you!).

When the florist delivered the orchid plant, huge, flowering like nobody’s business and all pretty and purple, I thought she had the wrong address.

But it was my birthday, and there was a flower delivery. I was in awe of the orchid. They really are amazing flowers. I wouldn’t accept it from the delivery person. “Is that for me?”

“Are you Joyce Men. . . Men-y. . . “ She struggled to read my last name. I saved her.

“Yes I’m Joyce. But. . . I kill plants. Why is this one here?”

“Um. It’s a gift.”

I snapped out of it. My terror for the sure black death of that gorgeous orchid had me a little stupid for a moment.

“But, what - I mean, where should I put it?”

The florist delivery person must have felt sorry for me. She kept the plant and asked me to show her any sunny windows in my house.

She eyed the corner window in the dining room where an empty ceramic table sat. “That window is perfect.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her (or the orchid) that the only reason the table was empty is because I’d recently given the last rites to an unfortunate tropical plant.

She placed the orchid on the table. She looked at me, direct in the eye, as if in warning. “Don’t move the orchid from this window. . .ever.”

I almost saluted. Then she pointed out something else that was included in the gift. A book. Easy Orchid Care. Well I’ll be. My mother-in-law did remember that I kill plants with regularity. How sweet that she believed in me enough to include instructions!

So the orchid stayed there in that corner of the dining room, soaking up the sun. I read that book.

It’s almost one year later and my orchid is STILL blooming. It’s never gone dormant. The flowers just keep coming. I follow the instructions in that fabulous little book and my orchid loves me. It’s truly amazing.

But the scary part? I’ve branched out. I found some amazing violet plants with huge, vibrant blooms. I put a bigger table in the corner to accommodate all FOUR plants.

That was three weeks ago.

They’re still alive.

Shhhhhh. Don’t gasp too loud. They might hear you.

Apparently, there is some kind of magic mojo in that dining room window. Plants love it. I’ve tried moving one outside for more sun, into the shade when it looks a little droopy. Nothing makes this plant happier than sharing the table with the orchid. It perks its little leaves up towards the orchid every time its near it, and gets droopy when it’s away from its girlfriend.

Yes, I’m convinced. The only reason my plants live is because they are all in love with the beautiful orchid. There’s some kind of plant love-fest going on and the orchid is the puppet-master.

No. I’m not moving the plants. Let the magic of the window and the orchid live on, even if the success does scare me, just a little.

It gives me too much hope, and I'll probably end up killing hordes of helpless plants because of the small success I am experiencing.

Pray for me, people.

Goodbye, Randy. We'll Really Miss You.

 

How can anyone sum up a man’s life in just a few words?

I knew Randy Slater for only a couple of years before he left us suddenly on Saturday, February 2^nd. As I write this, it’s still difficult to wrap my mind around the fact that Randy isn’t with us anymore, that his larger-than-life personality and sense of humour is gone forever.

I imagine that most of our Lanark County community is feeling the same way.

Of course, I do know that Randy wouldn’t want us all crying about it. He’d want us to get back to work, get the job done, quit whinin’. After the work is done would be soon enough to tip one in his honour. He’d want us to celebrate his life, but make sure that business carried on as usual. Even Winston, the family dog would probably be ordered to go bury a bone or something.

Randy was entirely too young to be finished on this earthly plane, even though none of us can pretend to know why he had to go. He was about to celebrate his 50^th birthday, and took the ribbing with his normal good-natured humour. In 2007, he celebrated 25 years of marriage to his wife, Lisa, and has two children, Megan (21), and Lindsay (19). Lisa and Randy were looking forward to a well-deserved holiday in a few weeks.

Randy was one of the hardest working men I knew. He always had an idea, was always on top of whatever his beloved Home Hardware store needed. There wasn’t anything that he missed when it came to his work, and even if he was a little disorganized and messy, Randy knew his stuff. Whenever I visited the friendly chaos that is upstairs in his office, I wondered how he could possibly know where anything was in the paper explosion that was his desk. The chaos extended to the entire office, but that man was sharp, missed nothing. Even Jody, his faithful assistant, wouldn’t dare to upset his system.

Randy loved life, loved people, his Home Hardware store and his Home Installs business. He enjoyed a business growth spurt last summer and was over the moon about his success in Home Installs, his plans to buy another installs truck and hire more crew on the top of his list. His attention to customer service was unequalled, and it was an admirable quality that he enforced on all of his employees, making Carleton Place Home Hardware the friendliest and most helpful place to shop.

Randy was a man that knew how to get the job done, and usually that job started with a handshake. A handshake meant something to him, as did every person he did business with. He loved both of his communities of Smiths Falls and Carleton Place and all the people he knew in them.

The bewilderment and sense of loss will be with us for a while, as it’s all part of the process. But Jody’s son Logan says it best when speaking of Randy: “God must’ve needed Randy to build some mansions in Heaven.”

You will be greatly missed, Randy. And we may shed a tear or two, but just pretend you don’t see. And we’ll promise to keep going and carrying on what you built in your life. Don’t worry, Randy, help will always be close to Home.

Rest well, have a kick-ass afterlife, and thanks, Randy - for everything.