Crapper

I haven't posted in forever, because I am trapped in reno hell. A small en suite bathroom gut and rebuild has been going for a month and is still not done. In the second week -- after approximately 20-ish work hours had been done (ie four short work days) -- I did some research and wrote some notes for this post.  But now I can't find my notes and they were good, smart, funny.

The notes were about Thomas Crapper -- you know that guy that everyone says invented the flush toilet. Everyone except the people who say he didn't. The ones that say some guy who worked for or was related to Queen Victoria invented it. I'm thinking that those people are monarchists. Brits and monarch-loving, royal-baby-bump-watching kooks. Because what Queen V had was essentially a pit privy in her palace. A lovely pit privy fit for a royal highnie that leaked noxious sewer gases and other substances, since there really wasn't any sewer system to speak of. Yeah let's give that guy the credit. He was a knight or a peer or something...

And then there were other cool facts like how Wedgwood and Royal Dalton made the early toilet bowls and decorated them angels and such. Only rich people had toilets. Poor people had chamber pots... and that reminds me of something: he's so poor, he don't have a pot to piss in...and now it makes sense. Oh yes, and if you did have a pot to piss in, you emptied it by chucking the waste out the window. Nice...fancy a stroll luv?

But along came Mr Crapper and he figured out how to stop the ceramic toilet bowls from leaking the flushables, invented a proper flush mechanism, and just about everything else that makes a toilet a toilet in the modern, no seepage or sewer gas, vein. So I say give credit where credit is due and let's not allow wikipedia or anyone else call the Thomas Crapper story an urban myth (that's right, some people are trying to sell that load of....

....it's too easy. Too cheesy. I just can't make that joke. It's beneath me.

what this is...or isn't

I don’t like blogging. I don’t read blogs. I don’t tweet…don’t follow anyone…and, to be honest don’t really know how to do it.

But now I have a blog. For two reasons:

(1) Ken Nicol has one (www.every3point65.blogspot.ca). He is the most non-conforming person I know and he’s blogging every day for 365 days.

(2) I wrote a book. A memoir… ie a book about me. So, in a completely craven attempt to ‘build my platform’ so I can either sell my book or get an agent to do it for me, I am blogging.

I cannot promise regular updates, but I can promise there will be no tales of my daughter’s cuteness (even though she is way cuter than any of yours’); no recounting of my husband’s ineptitude or our arguments…because the Blogess does it better (okay, I’ve read a couple of blogs); none of my lame vacation photos or anything else that I think is fascinating, but totally irrelevant and boring when viewed by others.

And, possibly most importantly, I will not go all yogi, Yoda, guru on you – even though I survived a bout of brain cancer, had to re-learn all my motor skills, balance (etc) at the same time as becoming a new mom (the subject of the afore-mentioned memoir), had a near-death experience…and well, clearly in some way am constitutionally superior to just about everybody, I don’t want to lord it over you. Really. That's the kind of evolved person I am.

So, what will my blog about? Whatever I want it to be…because it’s mine.  Welcome.