And he definitely would have wanted me to try and make people laugh.

…

As those of you who have spent any time at all with my Dad, you know he loved sweets. And when he was a kid, one of his very favourite desserts was custard. The problem with him making custard was that everyone else in his family liked custard too. And he didn’t want to share his custard. His feeling was, “I made it, I should get to eat it!” So, what did my Dad do? He made the custard, just like he normally would… with one extra ingredient.

Green food colouring.

Tasted just like regular custard. Looked just like regular sick.

And he got to eat all the custard he wanted.

This proves that my Dad knew how to think outside the box from a very young age.

There is something else that my Dad loved to do.

When I was in my very early teens, I had what could very generously be called an “enlarged sense of self worth” — i.e., I was insufferable. I read a lot and thought I was really, really intelligent. One day, I found this one insult in a book — it may have been Shakespeare, or maybe I liked it just because it sounded “Shakespearean” to me. Either way, I LOVED that insult. With the heat of a thousand suns. But I didn’t have a good opportunity to use it. I had to keep it to myself. And it HURT to have to keep such a wonderful and intelligent-sounding insult all to myself. It was KILLING me.

Until one day, me and Dad were going at each other and I could take it NO MORE. I knew — this was THE MOMENT, this was when I had to let loose with my BIG GUNS. I took a deep breath and I let him have it —

“A POX ON YOUR FIRSTBORN”.

I stood there, waiting for him to shrivel away.

But he just looked at me.

And looked at me.

And looked at me.

And THEN it hit me.

Yeah. That felt good.

I think seeing that look on my face was one of the very best moments of his life. He never let me live that one down. And I mean NEVER. “A pox on your firstborn! A pox on your firstborn! A pox on your firstborn!” Sometimes, I would catch him quietly chuckling to himself and then he would mutter to himself, “A pox on your firstborn… heh heh heh.”

My Dad loved to tease people. Especially those he loved.

(Especially his firstborn.)

But when he wasn’t driving my self-esteem into the dirt, my Dad wanted nothing more than for me to excel. And he found the best way to truly excel at a task was to challenge yourself.

Which he did to me.

From a very young age.

My Dad loved to tell this story. When I was just learning to walk, I’d be on the floor of the living room and my Dad would be in his old rocking chair. And I would struggle to stand and then I’d make a couple of steps across the floor, heading over to my Dad, and just when I got in front of him, he would reach out, put his foot in the center of my chest… and push.

And I would fall down.

And then I would get up again, and walk towards him… and he’d push me over again.

And then I’d stand up again, and walk towards him, and he would push me… and I would step back, and I would teeter… but I wouldn’t fall down.

He said I would be so excited at not falling over, that I’d laugh and laugh and then run towards him… and he’d push me over.

My Dad loved to challenge himself. And everyone around him.

And my Dad taught me something very important, just by the way that he lived his life — that you never have to “settle”. You never need to say, “Well, this is what I am and this is what I will be for the rest of my life.” My Dad never stopped exploring, trying new things, reinventing himself. My Dad never stopped looking for his bliss.

My Dad was a teacher, an ambulance driver, an educator of energy conservation, a taxi driver, an actor, a writer, a graphic designer, a web designer, and a Flash developer. My Dad was a cyclist, a bodybuilder, a runner, a triathlete, a skydiver, and a motorcyclist. My Dad was a reader. My Dad was a son, a brother, a father, a father-in-law, an uncle, and a grandfather. My Dad was a husband. My Dad was a friend. My Dad was my best friend.

My Dad was a good man. My Dad was happy. My Dad was loved.

clivesweeney.com

Please check it out.

SWEENEY, Clive – 59, Durham, N.C., passed away on June 3, 2008, in a cycling accident. Clive was born in Halifax to Audrey and Hugh Sweeney. A graduate of Dalhousie University, Clive never stopped finding new passions to follow, both at work and in his personal life. Clive was a teacher, an educator in energy conservation, an actor, a graphic designer, a website designer, and a Flash developer. He was a fitness enthusiast, being a long-time runner, body builder and cyclist. Probably his greatest and longest passion was reading, which he instilled in all who knew him, especially his two children. He is survived by his wife, Brenda Condran; his mother, Audrey and stepfather John MacGregor; his brother, David; his son, Jason and daughter-in-law Mary Beth; his daughter, Sarah and son-in-law Chris; his grandson, Clarke. He will also be missed by his cats, Tequila and Shamus. He was predeceased by his father, Hugh. A service will be held in J.A. Snow Funeral Home, 2666 Windsor St., Halifax, on June 12, at 2:30 p.m. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to Bide Awhile Animal Shelter. He was a good man. He was happy. He was loved.

I loved him so very much and he was the very best man that I know.

She asked me if this made her a Mommyblogger.

My response?

“No. Mommybloggers write as themselves. Not as their babies.

“Also, they swear.

“A lot.”

(Oh! You all know it’s true. Frighteningly true.)

So… how’s about y’all head on over? Say hi. Mess up the joint. Give it that “lived-in” look.

(No. You don’t need to take your shoes off. They’re cool.)

The adorable no-named sock monkey is no more!

We have a WINNER!

May I present… NOODLES!

Or, “Mr. Noodles” to the more formally inclined.

Or “Field Marshall Noodles”, if he is your commanding officer in the Prussian army.

Either way… good work, peeps!

Grilled cheese ahoy!

WELCOME TO THUNDERDOME, BEETCHES!

Let the voting begin!

[poll=2]

Pssst! Don’t like any of these options? Leave yers in the comments!

I present you with Exhibit A:

clicken to embiggen

Items of note:

• One nephew, resembling a 1920s speakeasy bouncer, sleeping
• One sock monkey, resembling a 1920s speakeasy sock monkey, sleeping (with eyes open, like some sort of freaky wizard)

All in all, rather similar.

However, the sock monkey is lacking in one single regard — IT HAS NO NAME!

My sisterwhoeatspoofortwo has asked me to not use my own singular talents to come up with the perfect name for the sock monkey.

No… she asks YOU for YOUR help.

In this, her hour of darkest need, you can do no less.

You… can do no less.

[Genuflects out of room.]

I got a few odd looks when I announced that the single most common recurring theme in my dreams was overly-elaborate underground shopping malls.

…

Am I the only one?

The month that my work has gone plum loco intense in anticipation of me heading off next week to a conference (in BC! NORTHERN BC!)? And the month that I decided to take a week-long data conversion project and literally the minute I finished it discover that due to my beautifully undiscovered fuckup that every single record was wrong? The month that the amount of freelance work I do has amped up so much so that I needed to pony up for this oh-so-pretty MacBook Pro lying under my fingers so that I could actually get work done while away in BC meaning that the lovely Rockie Mountains will probably be free from my grubby paws for the majority of the trip? The month that my sisterwhoeatspoofortwo finally got over this whole pregnancy thing and actually birthed the wee Nugget mere weeks before my stunningly fabulous Nana finally went into the hospital for the operation that had been hanging over her head for the past handful of years and yes she’s doing great right now but she’s dealt with more crap than anybody should have to — English war bride and all — so anytime she’s not sitting pretty getting whatever she wants I worry?

(And that wasn’t even a sentence but now my battery’s about to kick out.)

And the month that fricking Heroes starts again?

Really? THIS WAS THE MONTH I PICKED??

I really do have some good stuff to write.

I’m just hunting for the time…

Please bear with me…