Sticky notes on campus

Today at the Avenue campus someone (a student, I’m guessing) left a trail of sticky notes throughout the halls. Some were on cupboards, others doors, a couple bulletin boards . . . and I spotted one more in the stairwell. And written on these little yellow sticky notes were a variety of positive messages. For instance, one of them was a stick person with two speech bubbles. On the left speech bubble (and crossed out in red) it said: Why me? In the right speech bubble it read: Try me! I guess it’s equivalent to ‘turn that frown upside down’, eh?

And then I started to find the quotes. Now look, my short term memory is a sieve so I can’t recount them all, but one was from Ghandi (i.e. a quote from Ghandi): Don’t cry for it ending, smile because it happened.

I am happy it happened.

Not the cancer, nope, not that.

The friends, the challenges, the writing, the working, the living, the grocery shopping, the tea drinking, the sofa shopping, the Lost-a-thons, the orange eatings, the portswoodings, the guy foxings, the spring flowerings, the movie nightings,  the self-explorings, and the apartment hoppings. Plus that fabulous fried chicken served at Pleasure Garden.

I’m so incredibly happy for all of it.

So here is to smiling, not crying. And to good memories, not bad. Mind you, come May I’ll be a human rain machine. Sentimental expression has become my middle name (Catherine Sentimental – Geez, is she crying again? – Brunelle). But it’s because of all the good things, and not the bad, that I’ll cry come next May. That is a positive contrast to last year.

Sticky notes with positive messages. Maybe you could try some yourself? Afterall, there’s no need to sign a name to your little kernel of positivity. It’s good vibes sans embaressment. Believe me, people WILL notice.

Here is my sticky note for this post: When one door closes, another one opens. Like my time in England and moving to Canada, and like the end of this posting followed by dessert.

*Oh! I burnt the apple crumble. Blog posting is too absorbing.

The end. For real. For real, for real – because it’s time for dessert! (minus the burnt bits)

Calculating square footage

Lately Zsolt and I have been calculating the square footage of our lives, or rather, our belongings. I’m  in the bad habit of associating my possessions with my ‘life’, which actually can’t be further from the truth. Yesterday we were watching videos of what’s left in the tsunami ruined areas of Japan – you know, the ones where people pick through the damage and hope to find something salvageable? And I thought, yes it’s stressful to move, but what if it was a choice between your goods or your life? What would sheets, pots, and books matter then? I find it’s a bad habit to tightly associate life with possessions. Because, as we’ve seen, everything can be lost in a moment.

Anyhow, it’s something I’m trying to remember.  I would trade everything except the people I love to be guaranteed absolute health. . . and I bet people suffering from the terror of war and natural disasters would do something similar for a little peace of mind.

So, Zsolt and I were calculating the square footage of our possessions the other day, trying to decide whether we can ship our paintings via a tea box or special carton. A tea box  (apparently standard shipping size) would be less expensive. Therefore, we had to revisit grade nine math. Funny how what used to be so easy eventually becomes so easily forgotten. Thank goodness for Wikipedia providing easy to access formulas.

Anyhow, the painting – without the frame – will fit into the tea carton.

Things are starting to look up in the world of moving. We found a company with reasonable prices, and while I’m suspect of the incredibly good deal they offer, I won’t say no. Don’t say no. Gotta say yes . . . Our plan is to order X number of boxes, fill them up with whatever matters most, and sell/give the rest away.

What matters most? Sentimental things go first: the photos, the fridge decorations, the albums, and Christmas ornaments. Next come the clothes: there’s an entire closet of stuff to pick through, but we have time for purging. After that it’s about the kitchen: my pots and pans, everything else can be left. And finally it’s computer related goodies: games, dvds, the computer, the screen (maybe) . . .

Too bad food cannot be easily shipped into Canada. I’d love to bring home some beautiful paprika and kobasz from Hungary. Oh well.

Step one in the moving adventure: find a company for shipping.


So that’s quite a relief.