Stay tuned…SavingCymbria will be back in September!

August 19, 2009

All you need to make summer fun


Fabulous news for writers!

August 7, 2009

We write, can’t help it, can’t fight it. But who reads?

I hopped the bus to work on a recent rainy morning, and was delighted to find five of my fellow passengers with novels under their noses. How many were busy with their cell phones or Blackberrys? Just one! And, wouldn’t you know it, of all the bleary faces on the bus, hers wore the only frown.

How to toy with your position in the hierarchy of the universe

August 6, 2009

It was a standoff in the park. The man stood firm, arms crossed, waiting.  His dog sat ten feet away with an orange, freshly fetched Frisbee clamped tight in his jaws. Neither would budge, each waiting for the other to  submit and take that first step forward.

I put my stroll on hold to watch what would happen next. After an incredibly long and awkward ten seconds, the dog made the first move. He crossed the grass and dropped the Frisbee at his master’s feet, then sat back on his haunches and thumped his tail on the ground with what I took to be obvious relief. With his position in the universe reaffirmed, the dog was free to once again relax into his role of loved and dutiful pet.

Here’s a game I play to toy with my own position in the hierarchy of the universe…

As a woman, not to mention a blonde (which has its advantages, don’t get me wrong), I’ve noticed that certain middle aged men, especially those wearing expensive suits, expect me to give them right of way when we’re walking towards each other on the same track lane of sidewalk or hallway. A few years ago I realized I was, unconsciously, nearly always shifting, albeit subtley, to give them room.

Well, not any more. I walk straight and strong without giving an inch. What happens? Most of the time they realize it’s not worth playing chicken with a girl whose gait suddenly has more in common with John Cena than Audry Hepburn. When they do take the risk, and it’s always the ones who (you just know) trim their nose hair at least twice a week, what happens next is inevitable (and oh so gratifying). I lower my shoulder, in classic football style, and drive right through. I never look back; that would imply I was concerned, or even (the horror!),  somewhat apologetic.

I’m fully aware that it’s only a matter of time before this ‘inocent’ game blows up in my face. Is it worth it? Yes! I do it out of solemn responsibility to my sex, to let the world know that times have changed and the old hierarchy is dead. Of course, it’s a whole lot of fun too~wink. Now if only there was a way to break my husband’s monopoly over the remote control. All I can say is never underestimate the power of a healthy bodycheck.

A tender moment… (with a hot pepper kick!)

August 5, 2009

I was settled snugly in the living room couch, with all I needed for a cozy TV supper ready on my lap. All that was missing was a dash of the spicy sauce my hubby had just discovered in the fridge door.

“Can I try some?” I called from the couch.

“It might be too spicy for you,” he warned.

“I’ll just take a bit then!”

He came around the corner on a mission, bottle in hand. Now, about my husband. This is a man who comes alive in the mountains,  a man at home in the wilderness, whose early glory days were spent living happily in a frigid backyard shed at Whistler. This is a man whose Viking legs and beard could send a whole legion of  Le Cirque waiters crying to their mammys.

This very same man bent carefully over my plate, with brows furrowed in quiet concentration, to deposit just the right amount of spicy sauce next to his wife’s mashed potatoes. I watched him with a secret smile as he rocked the bottle gently and kept his eye on the glass mouth, so he could pull back quickly when he had to. This is a man who can drive a golf ball well over 300 yards. And this is a man who can love so plainly… so plainly my nose started tingling well before the hot pepper kick ever touched my tongue.