Savannah Devilles
Categories
Information
BLOG
2008 October :: Savannah Deville’s

October 31, 2008

Why do you vote in 10 words or less

Filed under: Sewing Patterns of My Life Blog — Savannah @ 4:44 pm
Why do you bother to vote in 10 words or less?

I sit here and shake my head once again.
Another four years has rolled around and I am going to ask my American better half the same question I ask him every four years.

I ask him why Americans even bother to vote as when it comes down to it The Electoral College seems to deliver the birth of a new president.The answer is the same from him every four years.He quotes from his political science degree why The Electoral College was conceived.He believes it is right,and that is just the way it is.End of story.He just does not believe that it should be a winner take all situation and that all parts of the country need equal representation.

Okay so what happens to some of my folk back in Tundra Land… are they not represented?:)Hmm must ask some of the people in Tim Hortons next summer in Lanark County Ontario how they feel about that.I’m sure they will shake a donut at me and chug down their coffees down in defiance.(wait I have never seen a defiant Canadian except a hockey team and hockey mums who do not wear lipstick.Chapstick is the lip sealer “du jour”,I know that from personal experience)

Born in the land of free health care up north in Canada,I just do not get American Politics.I have never ever seen such ugliness from both sides.Then the general public gets involved and the mud slinging really begins.I have friends I cannot even mention the election to because they know what side I am and apparently if he wins, it is going to spawn the devil child.I also think they even quoted to me that Nostradamus wrote a paragraph on it..
Wait..Wait..was that not Kennedy? I know Nostradamus knew about him.Boy that guy was good.

We might talk funny up north and really have a laid back attitude but never in my 57 years have I seen a country that should be pulling together right now almost be almost in a state of a civil war reinactment.Wait…Wait…didnt that actually happen last week in Va and someone actually got shot and died? It had nothing to do with the election though,they were just ‘play fighting”..:)

In my country if someone screws up we give him the BOOT (say that Canadian style) as they say.Send him up ‘da line’ with a case of “two-four” ( case of beer).Heck only 59% of the Canadian population voted last election and the die hard Liberals are still waiting for their “promised one”, one of the two Trudeau (Prime Minister )sons to run for Prime Minister.For those of you who do not know Prime Minister Elliot Trudeau he was the one who dated Barbara Streisand. (okay I hear bells ringing now..:) Oh yeah his ex wife Margaret was caught back stage with The Rolling Stones and practically lived at Studio 54..(Okay I hear more bells ringing now.)

Actually Justin ,one of the sons just won his riding in the last election so there is hope and I hope I live to see the day :).We had a Prime Minister (president) once that did a bad job and he got kicked out on his keister as they say.His name was Joe Clark (not to be confused with “Six pack Joe” or “Joe the plumber”)
Clark’s government would last a total of 9 months less a day, as it was defeated in the 1980 election. As Clark’s Finance Minister, John Crosbie famously described it in his own inimitable way: “Long enough to conceive, just not long enough to deliver.

Tuesday it will all be over and I pity the winner,whom ever it may be, that has to take on this mess.If there is another “Electoral College episode” like last time I will sit here and ask the better half again why he bothers to vote if it does not matter.Myself, I will be in withdrawl from CNN ..MSNBC..THE HUFFINGTON POST..FOX NEWS AND DRUDGE REPORT (the last two I go there for maybe 4 seconds as they both scare the heebeejeebies out of me).I have never been so emotionally involved as this election..Well maybe in about four years if I am still alive I will go help Justin Trudeau’s campaign in Montreal.I will be the senior citizen on the left with the campaign poster on her cane.:) that says VOTE FOR PIERRE’S BOY.

God love this country ,may it rise out of this financial mess and be whole once again.
Go vote people…It is your right,and love your neighbour.
Nostradamous said so..:) and for gosh sakes watch out for those civil war reinactments..:)
” I don’t look at polls,I look at signs outside of homes”.”Get ready for PRESIDENT REMAX” Stephen Colbert

Linda Seccaspina
copyright 2008
Savannah Devilles

October 17, 2008

I WANT NAMES AND I HAVE A BIG PENCIL

Filed under: Sewing Patterns of My Life Blog — Savannah @ 6:15 pm

Today I was going to write all  about my favourite things but I was not in a Julie Andrews mood.No siree BOB.This “Julie” wants nothing to do with happy things today.

My menopause is raging and screaming “Danger Will Robinson” because I am tired.Tired of worrying about low sales and all sorts of insignificant things.I had a lovely customer Kathy email me today that she felt the same way and  said maybe if we didn’t have menopause more things would be done today.:)

Okay I want names here.Who gave us this and how come men do not go through this stuff? Is it all because of Eve and that darn apple?

Were my  childhood friends Russell and Randall told to keep their dresses down so no one could see their under pants? Did they also have clean underwear on so if you got into an accident no one would talk about skivvies that were not up on the 10 scale?

OR how about when ‘the curse’ came around when I was 13 ? Did those  guys waddle with things  that were pulled out of blue boxes  with elastic bands and clips on them? If you have another name for it please insert it as I was always told it was the curse.:)

Or puberty coming my way and getting a bra.I didn’t see them being fitted with one at the 5 and dime and being poked and prodded by my grandmother and the sales lady.Those cotton numbers had no spandex in those days and looked as appetizing as nunnery wear.

Or did they have to wear brush rollers in their hair with little pink picks (remember those?) and get put under a portable hair dryer with a shower cap on your head.Of course that was  after sitting in a chair for an hour and enduring one of the most awful things in life.A TONI perm..I wondered how I didn’t end up blind from the smell of those things.

Did they worry about Valentines Day and getting  Valentines in school that day?
Most boys were just waiting for the bottles of chocolate milk,but of course there was always one “Hallmark channel” sort of boy going up to the front of the class professing his love for some girl by claiming  her the Valentine Queen . Oh bother!!!
Then falling in love at a tender age and hurting because that boy never paid attention to you.Did they make call after call to the person they were infatuated with and then hang up on them when they answered the phone?
(ahh… yes I did that to poor Jimmy Manson for about 1.5 years)

I grew up at a time when women were nurses or teachers and when I told the Vice Principal that I wanted to be a fashion designer he laughed and laughed.TCA (Air Canada)Stewardesses in those days could only hold the job until they were 28 and they couldn’t wear glasses or be one pound over weight.Reason being the  plane of course might come down because of that 16 ounces.Let’s not count the chubby pilot in the front though..:)OH yeah with the glasses on..:)

So then it comes to childbirth.Just once I would like to see men go through maybe  just an hour of it.Okay boys,lets see how you deal with that enema.:)I remember giving birth to my youngest and I drove myself 28 miles on country roads to the hospital because no one would believe I was in labour.By mile 6  I KNEW and  I sang Beatles songs all the rest of the way and went through every red light .When I got to the hospital I told the male interns I was having contractions every 3 minutes.They gave me “the look” until they hooked me up to the fetal monitor and said,

” Oh my goodness she is having contractions every three minutes”

HMMMM didn’t I just tell you that?

So there I am about to give birth and I have two doctors an intern AND  A HUSBAND staring down at me yelling  not to push.

“Excuse me people are you down here? C’mon down and take my place and then YOU can stop pushing” I said to them.

Glaring at them I pushed and they had forgotten to lock the gurney and it rolled I tell you.It rolled hard and it rolled fast  right over the interns foot.The next day he came to see me with a cast on it.:) He said,
“Well I guess you have to do what you have to do”

Yup buster that would be right.:).While you are standing there may I ask you if you need a Whooope Cushion when you go to the mens room???

So eight years ago my PMS left me, waving as it scurried to someone else.At first I was thrilled until the hot flashes started.Now that gentlemen, is NOT like mowing a lawn and getting all sweaty.I can stand in the middle of a garden  and single handed soak the land or  I can heat up a family home of 4 in about 3.5 seconds flat.( I do not need Kryptonite either)It is a talent I tell you.Ladies forget Hoover Dam supplying Americas energy.
Let us all join hands and spread the heat.

So why did they make men different? I know why.They made them stronger so they can listen to us..:)

Linda Seccaspina
copyright 2008
Savannah Devilles

October 10, 2008

When I am 64

Filed under: The Uncategorized Parts of my life blog — admin @ 11:28 am
Much like the Seinfeld episode when George loses his sex life and he becomes some what like a college professor,my brain has acquired some space for writing due to lack of Internet sales..Normally I write every few weeks,but this morning taking a shower I needed to write again.I never saw The Beatles film Yellow Submarine because I did not really care for their psychedelic era.However, this morning as I was doing some things I immediately thought of their song WHEN I’M 64.

My grandmother used to do things almost in ritual mode and I used to giggle at her,but now to my horror at 57 I am doing the same thing.

She used to get up exactly at 6 am and start the wood stove and put on coffee.She would feed my grandfather everyday at exactly 6:20.He had one boiled egg in a white ironstone egg cup which he would tap exactly four times with a silver spoon to break it.He would then cut his toast in four diagonals and then eat the egg with a knife and fork in a rhythmic pattern. My grandmother would be baking something in the old wood stove at exactly 630am and every day I would hope she would make mocha cakes but she only did those for the Canadian Legion branch number 99 functions.

At 7am she would hang out laundry and water her garden.Her zinnias were about 4 feet tall and stood regimental in a long line in front of her vegetable garden,every third one a red one.I realized a few years ago she was ahead of her time in the 50’s and was setting her veggie ‘garbage; in a pile in the garden.By golly she was composting and just loved that her little melon seeds had caught on and were growing in all that mess

One by one her chores would be done and at exactly 9 am and on non school days I had to walk across the street to the Dairy and get one quart of milk in a clear glass bottle with the paper tab closure on top .I loved the smell of the Dairy and the noise of the machines that were preparing milk.I also loved the dairy’s freezer with tiny little cups of ice cream with strawberries on them that little wooden sticks/spoons lay on top of each one of them seeming to cry out your name.When the milk was delivered to her she went to St James Anglican church every day to fix the linens.

Every Friday night was altar guild night and we would get ready for Sundays services.Some Fridays nights were very special when we would decorate the pews for a wedding.My grandmother had all her boxes neatly shelved in the vestery that contained the huge white ribbons neatly ironed and we would decorate them with apple blossoms or other flowers in season with huge bows.No one ever touched her zinnias though..

Noon time came and my grandfather would sit in front of the old radio to listen to the headlines on the BBC news on CBC radio. My grandmothers recipe for “chicken stew for two” (still have it) with huge dumplings was simmering on the wood stove and the smell filled the house.My grandfather would insert his napkin around his neck and yes even eat that with a knife and fork.

When my grandfather would go back to work at exactly 12:55 my grandmother would rush in and adjust the clear plastic over the couch ( I would like to meet the person that started that trend) ready for him to sit down on it at exactly 5:00 pm.

We watched specific programs at night and never really strayed.
Lawrence Welk and Hockey night in Canada on Saturday nights.Ed Sullivan and Bonanza on Sundays and Tommy Hunters Country Jamboree on Friday nights.She would never fail to serve saltine crackers with cheese whiz on top Friday nights at exactly 8 pm and it is still a comfort food for me today even though I cant eat it anymore.Oh yes we must not forget Hymn Sing on Sunday afternoons where my grandmother wold encourage me to sing along with her..That would have made America’s Funniest Home videos. But I still know The Hockey Song by Stompin Tom Connors,but ask me what happened 15 minutes ago and my mind will be blank.

So at 57 I find myself doing the same things.Up at exactly 6:05 am.Post office walk at exactly 9:15.Meals at the same time and doing things in regimental fashion.I even acquired a new one from my son this summer.He has decided the correct way to dispose of empty toilet paper rolls is by putting them down the stem of the plunger instead of throwing them out.At first I got annoyed and then found out that it was fun.So when I came back this summer I found myself doing the same thing here.One problem though,I have a very low flow toilet and sometimes you have to get that sucker in there quickly and then realize you have 4 or 5 empty cardboard rolls on the stem.

So I loved my grandparents no matter what and my question to The Beatles song of “Will you still love me when I’m 64?” I loved them and hope people love me.Now back to solving what to do with that plunger.Darn low flow toilet.

Linda Seccaspina
copyright 2008
Savannah Devilles

October 9, 2008

I am what I eat and worry is my middle name

Filed under: Sewing Patterns of My Life Blog — Savannah @ 6:22 pm
I am what I eat and worry is my middle name

I have been quite sick since 7 am today.I have celiac disease and I think there was some gluten in the Trader Joe’s stir fry veggies I ate last night.
I sat and slept and watched the Dow go lower and lower while I flipped through two back to back episodes of BBC Americas YOU ARE WHAT YOU EAT. (insert laughter there)

At 2pm I got up and went to Amazon to see what I had sold and was slapped in the face by a big nasty 1 out of 5 on my feedback from a woman accusing me of altering and raising the price on the book AFTER she bought it.It was a 27.00 collectible french sewing book and I was the low guy on the price totem pole.When you purchase something on there it is all controlled by Amazon payments and I have nothing to do with it and you have to review it twice before you buy it.Anyone with some brains knows that.

So I started reading financial stories of hardships on the web and then I was so upset about the whole day I had a good cry.What is happening to this country is upsetting me and I worry what it will be like for my sons and grand-kids.

As a child my grandmother told me all sorts of stories about the depression and actually she drilled them in my brain.Stories about her scolding my grandfather to go out and buy more bread or she couldn’t make any more sandwiches for hungry people knocking on the door.My grandmothers screened verandah being a shelter to 5 or 6 people a night who had no place to stay.

She would take a family in at a time until they got on their feet and then replace the bedroom with another family.She hired a homeless woman name Gladys who stayed with her until she died in my grandmothers home when I was 6.She would help my grandmother feed everyone and do the washing in her churning wringer washing machine that I was told to stay away from.Actually I had been told so many stories about people losing their arms in them there was no worries I was going near it.In fact I wouldn’t even go in the same room or I ran in there with lightening speed and grabbed the baskets of wet laundry to hang.

Gladys was an odd woman (she hid the chain smoking from my non smoking grandmother really well) and she worked so hard that my grandmother decorated this wonderful bedroom for her in the house.Gladys died in that bedroom and when I was older and came home on weekends I was told to sleep in that room.You have no idea how many times I saw Gladys in the dark scurrying around with her feather duster smoking cigarette after cigarette.

Everyone has family stories about the depression and my friend Mindy this week told me how her mothers family lost everything.They lost their farm as it was mortgaged and left two brand new cars as no one could afford to put gas in them. They left Arkansas for Oklahoma as there was a possibility of work in the oilfields. But her mother ended up picking cotton at the age of 10, long 10 foot bag dragging behind her as she worked the rows of cotton fields by hand.

Is there hope? I think there is,there is always hope. This is how I believe in my heart things will get better down the road.

She told me they left a gold wedding ring on a sapling branch at the farm and many many years later went back and found it with a large tree branch grown around it.Mindy didn’t know who the ring belonged to,that maybe it was her mother’s and she did not want to be tempted to sell it as it meant something or maybe she thought she might lose it or someone might steal it.

But when I read the part about how a branch grew around it it gave me hope.
Things will still be there but it will end up being stronger in the years to come.Just like the depression,things got better.The economy grew stronger slowly just like tree branch that grew around the ring.

My father continued my grandparents legacy until he went bankrupt from doing it.He ran the family’s 50 year old electrical business extending credit to those who could not afford it.Told people not to worry and pay when they could.Sad to say it caught up with him and he had to close the place down.He told me later he wouldn’t change a thing,and one of the tile companies came to him and offered him a job as their electrician.

So every morning I get up and the economy is like the movie GROUNDHOG DAY I am going to think about that ring around the tree branch because it gives me hope.

Linda Seccaspina
copyright 2008
Savannah Devilles

October 4, 2008

You just have to have clean washrooms

Filed under: Sewing Patterns of My Life Blog — Savannah @ 12:15 pm
The Woman who liked a ‘good ” washroom
Yesterday I had to sit in a dentist office for hours and I decided to catch up on some reading.I sped read through the book “Who is the Real Betty Crocker?” like a roadrunner as I really wanted to read the rest of the book about clean washrooms.Let me tell you that Betty Crocker had nothing up this woman called Jocelyn Guenevere Marchantiere Jones who liked clean washrooms.

I swear I should be hired to evaluate public washrooms.On my four day bus trip back to CA I can tell you which greyhound bus washrooms are good and which ones you need a shot of Penicillin before you go in there. When I was pregnant with my two sons I had every washroom location nailed down in every location in Ottawa.I mean they do Zagat reviews of restaurants why not a review on book on rest rooms? I would most certainly buy it.

I know by now you have heard about the Junior scientists who did a study on ice cubes and appeared on Oprah.Apparently ice cubes (in restaurants) have more bacteria in them than the water in a public washroom toilet.I do not know which washroom those kids did there project on but it was good enough for me never to have ice cubes in my drinks again at fast food joints.

Needless to say you have watched many a film where people are killed or gosh knows what else goes on in them.I had my picture taken once by a friend on a public comode .And no nothing was in action nor were my pants down around my ankles.Why I did it to this day I have no idea but I destroyed the picture and thank goodness it was before the cyber age or my children might have seen it pop up on the web years down the road after I went missing,died or got famous for something (maybe).Look at OJ.

I never use a washroom that smells are coming out of nor toilets that have water on the floor.That’s just asking for some publicly transmitted disease.
The best washrooms and I kid you not are in your public library.The one here has marble floors, soap dispensers that work and toilets that are quiet when flushed.When I had my last UTI I held out all the time for that one.

So back to this book.It was a chronicle of one of the strangest stories ever to be rumoured about around new York.Joy was an elegant forty two recently divorced woman whose televison executive husband dumped her for a younger woman.She was forced to sell her home,adopt a very frugal lifestyle and had to find thrifty pastimes. So now all she can afford are memberships in New York’s finest Museums.There is one slight hitch,the rest rooms are not up to Joy’s standards so she adopts rest rooms in hotels and yes funeral parlours.(apparently those are right up to snuff with the library ones).

One day she nearly gets ‘found out’ that she is frequenting the funeral parlours rest room so she pretends she is attending a funeral there and signs the registry book.

Months down the road fortunes turn on end for her and she inherits 60 million dollars from the deceased’s book she signed that day she was nearly caught.Apparently he had no friends and he directed that his fortune be divided amongst those who signed the book. (she was the only one)All from a desire to use a clean washroom.

My grandmother told me “Ladies should only pee in clean washrooms” (I kid you not that is how she said it in very proper Queen Mum accent)
So after reading that book I must adopt my own phrase.

” My dears,if you really really have to go please avoid the washrooms in the Greyhound bus stations in Cleveland and Sacramento, as only clean,very clean rest rooms will do like those in the Grey Hound bus stations of Salt Lake City and St Louis,and if you must Syracuse will do also..:)

Linda Seccaspina
copyright 2008
Savannah Devilles
October 2008
M T W T F S S
« Sep   Nov »
 12345
6789101112
13141516171819
20212223242526
2728293031  

Pages:

Categories:

Archives:

Links:

Meta:

Reviews  |  Advanced Search | Privacy Notice  | Create an Account  |  Log In

Copyright 2008