Flipping your movies.

Whoops! Forgot to include this. :)

Download Windows Movie Maker for free from Microsoft.
http://explore.live.com/windows-live-essentials

Open the video in WMM.

Hit the rotate button.

Save.

Upload.

:)

Hoppy Christmas and a Hoppy New Year!

(I'll put a tutorial on a free and easy way to flip your movies 90 degrees below)

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I had these in a very careful order when I started this post -- but somewhere between the power outage and Blogger saving the draft they got juggled, so in no particular order, some select ornaments from my tree. :) The lack of lights showing is in direct relation to said previously mentioned power outage. (I took the outage to mean "Yeah yeah, get off your ass, drive to your brother's and spend Christmas with family ya humbug!")

My Secret Santa on Petbunny one year had two ornaments made for me with pictures of Sage and Scout. The year Scout had passed, I put up my tree.. and dropped the ornament. It *shattered* against my floor. I was devastated .. and crying .. and whined.. and my secret santa pulled out a Christmas miracle.

This would be the Scout ornament 2.0. She looks way too cute and innocent in this painting.. which, come to think about it, was her modus operandi. "Who ME?" she would ask as she got caught red pawed in whatever she wasn't supposed to be doing. "It was SAGE!" she would say in her cutest way possible .. Actually, she was very good at framing Sage. For years I'd thought it was Sage who was the destructo bun. I was wrong.. Poor Sage.

Along with the Scout ornament came a Fric (or Frac) ornament. My Sage ornament had survived, so the secret santa decided that my two little fosters could use a representative on the tree. I thought in hindsight I should probably have given them to .. uh .. crap. The woman who adopted them from me. (I'm so bad with names!!)  Of course, considering she dumped them on the SPCA in my name without saying boo to me, its probably better I kept the ornament. *Sigh*

After my house fire, secret santa sent me these two to put up on my tree. Of course, I had no tree and my brother is rather anti-Christmas, so they got shipped to Nanaimo and put up on my Mum and Dad's tree. When I came over for Christmas, I found them in a spot of honour, and the other bunny paraphernalia had somehow found homes on the tree and in Mum's Christmas village, and.. :)

 For some strange reason, people assume I'm as hockey obsessed as I am bunny obsessed. I just don't know where I get this reputation from. (*adjusts halo*) Mum and Dad bought me this for Christmas last year and gave it to me when I bought my condo. :) This is the first year its been on my tree! (Or any tree, for that matter!)

*Hangs head in shame* I have no idea who gave me this bunny! It's a 2007 ornament, so I ass-u-me it was one of my Petbunny friends, but uhm...

He'd actually rolled over between me spotting Fergie and grabbing my camera. He HAD been sleeping in his exercise wheel, the silly goober. I guess he either got tired of running or he and Freddie had a falling out.

And you thought only rabbits could give such great disapproving looks! I'm pretty sure this is a "Stop flashing that stupid thing at me and go to bed, woman! And if you won't go to bed, at least let me sleep so I can bounce up and down on my wheel and wake you up at 0430!"

Hope Santa was kind to all of you and that you have a fantastic New Year. :)

Steven and Chris on CBC.

I don't have cable, so I typically have CBC on. I like CBC, it's fairly neutral in its media output and television shows. Considering its technically run by Canadian government that it would have *less* heckling of politics than any other channel rather than more. Rick Mercer is their king - if you ever need a laugh, youtube him. His rants are epic of the Dennis Miller variety.

Today I was watching Steven and Chris as I often do. It's a home design, cooking, fashion, etc show. I don't have much use for the information as I am NOT a home decorator type by a long shot, BUT, they're always interesting and entertaining. I was only paying half attention as I was filling out a form for a contest when I heard "..and this one is trimmed with rabbit fur!" (..) "Only $5.25!" and Chris started squeeing. You can probably imagine my reaction!!!

So I decided to write them an email. You can as well, if you wish, at stevenandchris@cbc.ca

* * *

Dear Steven and Chris,

I am a big fan. I am hopeless when it comes to home decorating, I could boil an egg for an hour and have it come out raw, and my fashion sense is permastuck in the 90s, but something about the happy, feel good, energy of your show keeps me tuning in. I think it’s that Chris is not afraid to try anything, no matter how good or bad he may be at it. But my heart skipped a beat and I got that plummeting feeling when you showed an item with rabbit fur on it today. $5.25 was the price. Yipes.

I am going to talk about bunnies; pet bunnies.

Rabbits are the third most popular pet in North America. They’re almost the second most popular in Great Britain, starting to edge out cats! They are friendly, affectionate; they have senses of humour, make lifelong bonds and can mourn just like other high intellect animal. They can be litter box trained and as long as you protect your delicious looking electric cords, they can be free range in your house. They may damage your furniture, but let’s face it, so do cats and dogs! It’s the price of animal love! I don’t think you’d squee over an item with cat or dog fur on it, and that’s how I react to something with bunny fur.

My first rabbit rescued me. I was living far from friends and family, I didn’t have a lot of resources and I was slowly circling the depression drain. I came home one day from grocery shopping and saw a couple of the large feral dogs of the area trying to get at something under my front steps. I hit my car horn, flipped the lights and slammed the car doors – fortunately for me, the dogs took off. I went to investigate what they’d been after and saw the cutest little brown bunny.

I looked at her, she looked at me, and I said “You’re safe, you can go!” I, foolishly, thought she was a wild rabbit. Now shen who would be named Scout, was no dumb bunny. She knew a sucker when she saw one. She took one look at me and hopped to stand between my legs, close to my right ankle. I looked down at her, “You can go!” I repeated. She just sat there. It was pouring rain, I had groceries in hand, I didn’t have much patience to muck about. Figuring the fastest way to get a wild animal to be gone is to try and pick it up. I did so and she let me. She promptly stuck her head under my chin and was shivering away. Oh, not a chance this poor thing was getting tossed out into the big, bad, cold, wild.. So, sap that I am, I took her into the house, put her in a box with some towels, left my groceries on the floor and went BACK out into the pouring rain to get rabbit supplies from the local Petcetera. She was still in the box when I got home, but it was suspiciously closer to the heater.

Over the four years I had her, Scout taught me a lot about patience, love and laughter. She talked to me, giggled with me, and was a quite vocal little bun. And like every small being ever born, she had a Napoleanic attitude. There was no where in my home she couldn’t get to. She had a four foot leap across and could leap five feet up. She only liked three males; my Dad, her vet, and Jethro Gibbs. As soon as he talked on NCIS, both ears would come up, she would run into the living room and periscope and stare at the TV until he was out of the scene. She would then sit down and patiently wait for his reappearance and repeat as soon as he spoke again. She had all sorts of health issues, she’d come from a very abusive place, but she stayed with me for four and a half years.

After I’d had Scout for about four months, bunny people on the net convinced me bunnies are happiest when they have a bunny friend, so I went and got her a pal. Sage, as she was eventually named, was a silver Dutch. She was probably dumped because she wasn’t of ‘breeding or showing pattern.’ Sage, the little five pound rabbit, taught me the true meaning of the word diva! She could be so wonderfully dramatic. If the house wasn’t as warm as she would like it, she’d gather up bedding (yanking it off my bed!) and drag it to the living room floor in a big pile and then with a teenage girl like sigh, flomp into the middle. If her food bowl was empty, she would pick it up and throw it at my head – and she had frighteningly good aim! After I wised up and got them crockery dishes, she once threw one of my shoes at my head because the water bowl was low enough she had to lean into it to drink. Apparently, this is completely unacceptable to bunny divas.

Scout, for obvious reasons, was terrified of the outside world. She didn’t want anything to do with it and every time I had to take her to the vet she would cry when I took her out the door. She was fine once in the car, but that initial step horrified her. I didn’t know bunnies could cry, and it is an absolutely heart-wrenching sound!  Sage, however, LOVED the outdoor world. She rescued an abandoned litter of kittens. She knew every kid in the neighbourhood. She took me for walks at the lake. She didn’t mind dogs as long as they didn’t lick her. (Any dog licking her instantly got the upset diva look.)  The kids brought her clover and grass. Unfortunately, November 13^th, 2010, bad wiring in my home resulted in a house fire and Sage did not survive. Bunnies are such tragically delicate creatures for all their personality.

So, when you say something has bunny fur trim – I think of a bunny that could have been someone’s beloved pet, but instead was slaughtered for its fur. I don’t expect you to fight the fashion industry – but maybe in counterpoint, have a member from a local bunny rescue on one day to help educate the masses. I’m sure the ladies at Rabbit Rescue, Inc would be thrilled to hear from you! (http://www.rabbitrescue.ca/ )

Thank you for listening,

[My Contact Info Removed]

The tail of two gerbils.

Gosh - isn't he just such a cutie pie, that Fergie? Doing a very credible flop for us, to show that bunnies and gerbils have some characteristics in common. It was almost .. foreshadowing.

Yesterday morning I stumbled out of bed and into the kitchen to make tea. I saw something flash by on the ground near the couch but didn't think much of it. I am not unknown for hallucinating movements when tired. (I'm sure Lena would remember me ducking a non-existent bat in Bino's) I made tea. I went into the living room and sat on the couch. I stared at the gerbil cage as a few neutrons tried to rub together and give me an important message.

Hey - why's Fergie running around underneath the cage?

Oh. Crap. WHY IS .. *&@#!! 

Fergie, fortunately, is too dumb to figure out how to escape the wood skirt that was under their cage. Freddie, however, is a devious little snot and probably wiggled out in under two seconds. I started Googling "How to catch a gerbil" having had trouble catching rabbits in the past.. and let's face it, rabbits, even Scout Bunny!, are much larger than gerbils. Another flash of movement and Freddie has run under the TV. "Ack! Not my cords!" I had flashbacks to every bunny proofing Scout defeated and every cord she'd nommed. (How she never electrocuted herself, I have no idea.) I dived (figuratively) across the room and managed to corner Freddie. With a bit of artful hand movements I managed to catch the little .. uh, sweet wee guy. (Little mother farter!)

Into their travel cage they went. Not that this could, or would, hold them for long. Fortunately for me, they're now too tired from all their adventures to chew through the top and have escape number two. (I'm fairly confident even Fergie the Challenged could have figured out how to climb out the top.)  As its not the end of the month, I'm at the end of my bank account. A panic message to parents and brother "Send money, the gerbils have teeth!" (Okay, it was a little more explanatory than that.)  Dave saved the day and sent me money to get them a new cage.

Problem is - I was discovering as I went through the local petstores - all the available cages had *plastic* bottoms. It wouldn't be long before they just chewed through it again. One of the very nice people at a locally owned and operated store said "Get them an aquarium!" I couldn't manage to transport a 20 gallon aquarium by myself, so they got the 10 gallon model with a screen for the top. ("I could sell you the clips to hold it down, but really, just go down to the river and pick up a big rock and put that on top. Gerbils, unlike snakes, aren't strong enough to tip the lid.") 

The real challenge was the water bottle. I hadn't even thought of that "slight" problem when I bought the aquarium - there was no way or place to attach it! So, in went a crock and for them to dump bits in and I went on a quest for something that would work.

I ended up having to borrow MORE money (this time from the parents) and drove out to Abbotsford, just over 30 kms (19 miles) away. The Petsmart didn't have any real solutions either, just a bottle holder that she said would go over the top, you put the lid back on and Bob's your uncle. (Like my Mum needs another brother??) So, I buy that and go home.

I was right to be dubious. The way the bottle sat, the holder sat, AND the lid of the aquarium sat.. even if I bent the holder about to fit over the side, i wouldn't be able to get the lid on! And while the furry felons have yet to figure out how to get to the top of their new home, I don't doubt they will very quickly! Especially if I put a shelf in there for them! So - I threw in the towel and went to bed.

Unable to sleep I got up and started mucking about. I had two bottle wire holder thingys. (Y'know the bit that goes around the water bottle to attach to the wires of the cage?) I had twist ties. Surely I could do SOMETHING. After application of pliers, profanity, and ingenuity, the water bottle now hangs from the metal screen lid and is within drinking range. Now if I can just get them to stop tipping their food crock about..

Over all, I think the aquarium is a better home for them. If for no other reason than it's darn harder for them to chew out of and they can't fling the discarded shells and bits from their food every which way. (Again - I give them time to figure out how to shove it out the top.)  Best yet - the freaking wheel no longer thumps loudly every time they run on it!  (It would bounce against the bottom of the plastic cage.) 

Its a good thing Sage and Scout trained me to be outsmarted by cute furry things on a regular basis or this could have been a real blow to my ego!

Own a part of a Canadian!

Dear Gerbil in the Sky, thank you for this grub. Do you think you could get the humom to put more sunflower seeds in next time?

As some of you know - I write to earn money for things like food, and internet and gas for my car. It's been a slow couple of months. So! Here's your chance to own part of a Canadian's heart and mind. Doesn't that sound most nifty?

Do you want something written? A poem, an introduction to a product, a short story, a retelling of an adventure? Do you want help with a report, or homework or what have you? (I can't write those whole from the cloth, sorry!) Do you want a story about your child, pet, significant other, favourite plant? Well, here's your chance!

For a mere cent a word, you can order what you like. You can pay by paypal, you can mail me a cheque, you can drive to Chilliwack, BC and meet me for coffee to hand me cash! I'm very accomading that way! :) Canadians can also Interac.  I normally have a $5 minimum, but in the crazy, crazy, "Own part of a Canadian!" sale, there is no minimum! You want a 16 word poem? It'll cost you sixteen cents! Amazing, huh??

If you've not seen an example of my work, you can find it in the blog history here or on my (desperately needs updating) writing blog, or you can hear me read it aloud! (Be warned, next weeks won't be suitable for children!)

Have a cute gerbil pic.

Have a cute gerbil pic, because I'm gonna rant. It's my blog and I can if I want.  If you want happy, perky, joyful Lorna - well, I have a podcast over at http://www.youtube.com/shadowydreamer ..

A few months back I was seeing a guy, we went on a few dates, he disappeared. I'm not one to go chasing where I'm not seemingly wanted. I'll try and touch base a couple of times, but if I get the brush off, I'm not going to make a nuisance of myself. I DO want to know why, and if the person won't tell me, I'll be sneaky about it. I want to not repeat the same mistakes in the future. (If they're mistakes, and they probably were.)

So, this morning, friend of a friend of a friend found out for me why he'd dropped me like a dead fish. Its because I'm disabled.

Wow, eh?

Now, its not even my fibro or my CFS, which are really the things that keep me from having a real job and making more than 15k a year. It was my crutch that "totally turned him off." (His words.)

WTF.

I have a damaged L5-S1 nerve in my back. Any one who has ever suffered sciatica knows this nerve and knows it well. This means that my left leg gets cranky. Most of the time it's numb, but sometimes it just goes into overload and it's on fire and I'm a very unfun person to be around. Mostly, however, when I abuse myself, my left leg just shuts down and I fall over. Its quite comical, in fact. (Hey, I laugh because if I don't, I'll cry..) So, when I know I'm going to be doing a lot of standing (which is the worst!!) or walking, I bring my crutch.. it makes me able to do those two things for longer as I'm taking it easy on my left leg.

The last date we had, I'd walked over to the coffee shop, and I'd expected to be sitting yakking for quite some time. (I know, me talk nonstop.. hard to believe.) I expected to need the extra oomph to get me home again. Apparently, that crutch ruined all romantic thoughts.

Okay, I can get that I'm not the most fun person to try and deal with in any sort of close relationship. (Friendship or otherwise.) I sometimes have to cancel plans, sometimes I just plain can't do things that I would love to do, sometimes I miss out of events and am sulky. (I'm not blaming my friends for doing stuff without me, I'm just miffed at the universe I don't get to play too. I'd rather they do it without me than sit and suffer because of me!) I get that my sleep schedule is f'd up at the best of times. I tend to have insomnia for two - three weeks, and then my CFS flips the switch and I'm groggy and tired and dragging my feet for two - three weeks. My legs burn when I'm not dead straight on with my meds (which is sometimes a bit of a juggling act). I have other fun issues.

I don't blame ANYONE for not wanting to get involved with me. I'm a mess! I try to hold up my end of things, but lets face it, because of physical limitations there's gonna be extra stress/work on the part of a partner. (There certainly is on my family and close friends.) I try not to be a drag, but life is what life is sometimes.  So, if it had been all of THAT I'd get it.

But my crutch?! The sole physical representation of my disability? (Besides the giant circles under my eyes and going on manic posting sprees on FB now and then.) I don't get that. 

Yes, its his fault on this one. There's nothing *I* can do about it. I had one guy tell me I didn't phone him enough, he always felt like he wasn't important. (Wish he'd told me while we were going out - I would have phoned more.. I was trying not to be a dead weight/clingy girl.) So now I negotiate what comfortable communication levels are. I'm happy going four days without talking to my beau if that's what their work schedule is. (Okay, not HAPPY, but willing.)  Its a give and take thing, right?

So maybe that's why I can't wrap my head around this. Its just so plain butt ignorant. 

And why the hell do people just disappear instead of EXPLAINING or at least EXCUSING themselves? Do people REALLY think that a blank wall of rejection is better than closure? Quick rip the band-aid, people.. don't leave the wound to fester.

Okay - done venting. Have another gerbil pic.

And thank you Lena and Jim for dragging me out of mopey mookyland. We'll just work on getting me out of incredibly pissed off land!