After yesterday's beautiful weather, I started thinking about things that are great. Now, great is an adequate word...but maybe Splendiferous might be a better word. So, it dawned on me, why not have a running list, in no particular order 1000 things that are grand. Over the coming weeks we will watch this list grow, and see how we feel about things that are Splendiferous!
Here is a GRAND list of things that are Splendiferous:
1. Pets: The smiling-eyed, tail wagging, purring, furry balls of love that wake you up to get fed and snuggle to put you to sleep.
2. BFFs: The people who help gray skies feel sunny and sunny days feel like a fabulous movie. Even in the rain and snow they know exactly the thing to do!
3. Vintage clothing in your size: A new-old dress that fits a lady like it should and twirls around you. Having something that someone else cared for before you, filled it with love and then passed it along, for a fair price to me.
4. Contests: It's fun to think about all the possible things you can win. The chances are endless; gift certificates, trips, money. People are always playing contests on the radio, the internet and in line at the convenience stores.
5. Winning contests: See number 4, only you're the one who walks away with the prize... My favourite
6. A light breeze that shakes the new leaves and dapples the shadows: The way the sunshine breaks through and flashes red in your eyes, but you're still cooled by the breeze and the shade.
7. Skylights and sunroofs: Like being outside, a half-step away from being on a motocycle or bike, but a lot faster. Loose hair flying around the car. Or the unexpected rooftop view in an 80's washroom, sitting on the toilet you can still see the stars.
8. BBQs: The way it brings people together. Everyone bringing their favourite mayonaise salad and eating burgers with grill marks on them. Reliving the fire-pit flavour of the hunter/gatherers of generations before.
9. Dancing to your new favourite song: Just dancing all together. The way your body feels flying freely through the air. The only thing confining you, are the people dancing around you. There is something fabulous about moving in time to the pounding of the drum.
10. Saying something at the same time as someone else- jinx!: Knowing someone well enough to have the same thought. Having a conversation with someone and to be so in sync that your next words are the same. It releases a pent of feeling of Nobody gets me. A practically perfect moment.
11. New shoes that are comfortable the first time you wear them: I think so many of us buy shoes with the hope of wearing the crap out of them. But all too often, those shoes suck, either because they are too cheap to be built properly, or the designer didn't care about anything but the esthetics, or they just aren't right for your foot. Whatever the reason, when you find something perfect your feet thank you.
12. Having people say something nice to you: Wether it's a stranger saying they like your purse or your BFF saying you look pretty. It feels good to have people say nice things.
13. Saying nice things to others: Calling just to say I love you. Complimenting a haircut. Using the social clues to help make this world a nicer place. Hellos, Good mornings, Don't you look nices? All very easy ways to help others see the bright side.
14. Being the best person you can be: Being the kinder person. Being the person you want people to see you as. And telling the world around you how thankful you are to be a part of it. Every day we have a chance to change ourselves, change our lives and get change for the bus, so why not today?
15. Seeing people achieve their goals: Is there anything grander than seeing people plan and execute said plan? How inspiring is it to watch someone get there, even though there is a very different place for everyone.
SO, 15 of the Grand ain't too shabby a start. Sorry this blog thing is so late today. I been working on the Night Moves with the Nightshift in the Morgue. Sad and true. Tomorrow's will be up super early. I pinky swear. Keep an eye out for more in this series. I think it will be fun. Luv ya! Tomorrow's Friday, can you believe it?
When I was growing up my parents were ahead of their time. We had a giant console car phone; complete with spiral cord. It had to be removed from the vehicle whenever we got out. Thank Rod it came in a handy carrying sack, more like a backpack. I mean, the thing weighted 18 pounds. There weren't digital cameras. You got to relive all your forgotten memories when you got them back double stacked in that yellow envelope. In the last 15 years that's all changed. We've become a society of watchers and watch-mes. Not to say that there is anything wrong with that. Papa B and I love people watching. That's where we get our best material. The world around us has always been of interest...I might even say obsession.
But this guy*insert heave-hoe thumb point* may have gone too far. A man sits with a friend behind my BFF; embroiled in a close-talking, drunken confession-session. They are out of earshot, especially with the ceiling fan spinning and the jukebox blaring a wicked summer songs. Saysaysay, message in a bottle and the Boss. Perfect soundtrack to a Saturday. There is no way; repeat; no way I could have heard what he was saying. Though I will admit that I tried. Engrossed in our own stimulating, though far less dramatic conversation, I am struck by a bolt of laughter, said Man stands up and yells across the empty patio: "Don't laugh! It wasn't funny to me." Surprised at our neighbour's outburst Damnber and I swivel our heads and laugh again. Then launch into a stream of apologies, explaining the laughter wasn't at him. The man impatiently accepts the apologies and then turned back to his drinking partner who continues to low talk at Us from way too far away. 'I can't hear you'*insert sign language Unable to understand what they were saying, we thanked them with squinting question mark eyes and turn back to our own broken conversation. Waiting until they downed their drinks and finished their butts. I tried to breakdown the sitch. We weren't listening right? Starring; maybe a little. Listening; impossible.
But he was convinced that we were obsessed, interested; watching him. How? What about us told him that we were interested in what he was saying? Though the problem with asking a question like that is: What about me and this blog? What would convince anyone there's something interesting? And that's a question I can't answer...Or won't. Even without the free time to luxuriate in this writing; I still try. I write in crowded subway cars and dark back alleys. In 1900 and 2012. Five days a week for the last six months. But Hubby continues to say there must be a point. A reason. But I think that actually doing it is the reason. I will not be just a quick-start. I will be an implementer. An interrogator and a sad sack. My personality tests have confirmed that. But I guess the real question isn't who's watching who?
I don't know if you've heard, but we're having a heatwave. You can't go anywhere without people talking about it. Complaining- half heartedly. Only to correct each other with: "You'll miss this is November." At 6am while walking my Puppa stink I ran into my neighbour. We both smelled clean but looked wet. Crossing our collective fingers hoping today was a sweeter day. Knowing that soon we'd both be soggy again.
It's so hot that even my 12-step skincare regime isn't enough. I have to add 8 layers of sunscreen and another step of anti aging cream. The sun and heat are wearing my skin out. My hands are like crocodiles and my midsection is a haunting pasty white; bordered with irregular tan lines. My nails won't grow. My hair feels like a blanket laden with sweat. I've removed all my jewelry, I just don't want it touching me. All the city's women clad in sundresses and breezy fabrics; ponytails piled high on their heads.
On Saturday the sun came out after the spitting rain stopped. Not even close to the humidity cracking thunderstorm we we're promised. The storms we'd been begging for; the grass and trees needing it so badly. In heat like this everyone's looking for trouble. Men without shirts; hooting and hollering at the passing ladies. The Lakeshore blocked by high speed chasers and beer guzzlers. The sound of giant bumblebees without the sweetness of honey. People are restless and the animals are panting. It is hot. And were all trying to love it. Struggling through. Always uncomfortable, but it's Ontario weather, so what do we expect? When it gets like this our sports teams start loosing. The CFL, TFC and BJ's started their seasons well, now coming apart in the heat. My feet are swollen and I am bogged down and drippy. Trying to conserve energy, but ending up with none left anyway. Even Stephen. Six of one half dozen of the other. But man, it is hot!
All this aside, I needed an adventure. But this heat wears me out. It starts being comfortable outside close to 11pm, so you have to stay up that late just to go anywhere without sweating through your shirt. It's too dang hot. This past weekend I spent a lot of time on patios, in fan blown bars and the chilly A/C ofmy BBF. Hoping that I could find in some fun- and I did! My adventure started with a crosstown bike ride. The back roads were deserted; the streets we're open to a double wide lallygaging drift of a ride. All the stores I wanted to go to: Closed as though they forgot it was Saturday. So I settled for a bloody Marcy, a picker platter with smoked salmon and 'Baby it's cold outside' blaring from an ironic jukebox in 32 degree weather. The evening was catapulted by a flight of fancy; trying 9 new micro-brew beers. Suddenly, after way too much sun and beer came the invitation to my first ever penthouse- patio-party. A 2 floor condo with 2 bathrooms and 2 many people. Facing the CN tower and the lake. The city glimmering and calm. The temperature dipping and the breeze whispering through my hair. Finally a nice temperate adventure. Comfortable at last.
So, humidity and hops mix refreshingly well together. Turns out that by raising the adventure temperature, I managed to be hot and comfortable. Thanks Torontonians for keeping you're cool. But if there's a way we can swing it; I would like some of that rain I complained about earlier this summer:)
I remember holding my grade 3, bestest friend's hand, walking down the hall of a brand new school, saying: We can't be separated, they wouldn't do that to us. Clutching to each other in a new and scary place, begging not to be spilt up. But they did. They split us up- there were only 2 french immersion classes and we were split up. Being down the street and around the corner made us fast friends. Riding the same bus and waiting at the same stop helped for sure...but the great divide, it tore us apart.
My class was made up of some kids I knew, some I didn't. We were all french immersion, but they had always been 2a or Kindergarten even days, we never mixed- not even in the school yard. We played soccer and freeze tag, while they played wall-ball and 4 square. We were birds and and they were fish. Never to living together...But now we were at a new school, where nobody knew the rules of the game. Entering James Mc in grade 3, we mixed and I lost my Bestest friend in the whole wide world. I lost her to one of the dreaded Jennifers of which we had 4. That first day on the bus ride home, she and I sat together for the very last time. She told me how exciting her class was, I told her how I didn't pay attention to Monsieur Gagne all day, and how I missed her. She said she really liked her new class, I said I didn't really like the 2 guys sitting at my desk cluster, and we were seated alphabetically. She was happy. I missed my best friend.
And then the day of reckoning came: she didn't sit with me on the bus in the morning. I couldn't find her at morning recess. She wasn't playing outside at lunch, she was eating in her classroom, a place I wasn't allowed. On the bus she sat alone, I took my spot next to her, eager to talk her ear off about my day and winning a spelling contest. She ignored me, starring out the window. I thought it was weird, but my 3rd grade brain went with it, what could be wrong? We're best-friends-forever. When we got to our bus stop, she pushed past me and down the bus stairs. Then; she ran. She ran hard and fast. She ran away from me. I still don't understand...
This continued, everyday for what felt like forever to 3rd grade me. Somedays I would yell after her- screaming her name- yelling that I didn't care if she ran away from me. "I don't care!!!", but really I did care. It was the worst part of my day. I knew she would run, and she always did. Somedays I would run after her. Somedays I would just cry. I never understood what the running was about. I now think it had to do with all this talking...I can see why somebody would run away. Our friendship ended, though not without me trying to turn her back into my Bestie with gifts, and phone calls (she would hang up on me) and I would stroll by her house casually...a lot. Waiting for her to remember all the fun we had sledding and getting into trouble for switching our clothes and trips together during summer vacation.
Friendship can often be a tricky and unstable slope- awaiting a holler to trigger an avalanche of emotions. Being a grown-up and dealing with actual problems, I wish I could run back to my worst Grade 3 day and just enjoy it. But no matter how fast you run, you can't outrun your past and the decisions you make can greatly effect the people you've decided on. Even the worst days I had as a child aren't so bad in hindsight but I'm definitely glad my friends don't run away from me any more. Well, most of them.
Time flies when you're having fun, so what happens when you're not? Well, I'll tell ya. Take work this week for example; it dripped by and it repeats and repeats like a broken, like a broken, like a broken record. But home time never comes, the day never ends...well it does eventually but by then you're Salvador Dali's warped clocks hanging from a cactus. If you know what I mean.
In my heart of hearts I knew the short week back from a long weekend would be an adjustment- as it always is and always will be. People coming to work with gleefully sunburned faces and a bounce in their step. Only to have their spirits quashed by the Man. Their weekend smiles evaporating by day 2, replaced with their typical at work scowl. Everyone eagerly anticipating the end of the week like kids waiting for Christmas. Knowing it's coming, but it's too far off to start celebrating just yet.
There is something torturous about wanting to be home and being unable to go. Longing to complete unfinished business that was missed over the long weekend and now being stuck at work. Time crawling by. People loosing interest and skill. The week started out swimmingly, bright faces completing tasks quickly. Until all of a sudden these simple tasks exploded, sending inefficient shrapnel in all directions: Doubling our schedule's complexity. All sense and caution thrown to the wind and out with the baby and the bathwater. How is it that being relaxed, revived and renewed actually slowed us down? At the end of last week when our hours were long and the nights short we were able to pull it together and power through. But today... the slow dripping... of each minute ticking away in the dark. The monitors repeating senseless retakes and multiple angles. The constant touches and retouches; when all we want to do it go home.
Holy holiday Monday, Batman. It seems we need another break. And this is Roddamn redic! How can a vacation make everything seem so much harder? C'mon! How's that fair? Typically, I work at a high-speed-chase pace. Barely finishing a lap before starting a new one. But when everyone else is working at a snail's pace, it feels like I'm climbing marshmallow stairs, it's a tough day. Amazing how quickly the long weekend enthusiasm fades. The sweet fresh freedom turned into the prison grind. The vacation becomes a distant memory. And I know even though today is dragging; there is a bright side:) The best thing about a 3 day weekend is a 4 day work week. And today is Fri-yay!
Okay, so a recent informal poll I conducted suggests that if there is something wrong with you, you'd like to know. I don't mean if something is wrong with you- in my opinion specifically. I mean- if you have food in your teeth, waving it's spinachy green fingers at me, you'd like to know. Things that are wrong include but are not limited to: ear, cheek and nose hair, downed flys, boogers, flipped clothing tags and other embarrassing but easily repaired esthetic flaws. So, now that we all agree we'd rather know; why do I still worry how you're gonna take it?
Well Doctor, you see that's because nobody likes to think that they have been walking around like an a*hole with their barn door wide open. I might as well take all the confidence you had at that moment, tie it to the biggest anchor I can find and throw it overboard while shouting: 'That'll teach ya for getting too big for your britches. ' cackling all the way back to shore. Pointing out flaws is a terrible feeling for all involved. The victim's "Oh no, I ate 2 hours ago and I've had a hydroponic sesame garden growing in my mouth since" feeling and the messenger's "I wish I didn't have to do this, they'll wish I'd done it sooner." feeling. It stands to reason, you're better to hear it from me, than to head to the bathroom and spot it yourself half a day later. Though reason is seldom applied to vanity.
The strangest thing about this awkward social situation is even if I am part of a much larger group; the responsibility falls to me. I can be at work as the problematic Bat in the Batcave twists in the wind- while the cave dweller tells an emphatic story- everyone sees it. EVERYONE! But nobody says anything... So I wait until the story ends. Either insert a laugh or sympathetic head shake whichever seems appropriate; because I wasn't listening- I was starring at their nose. At the next private oppurtunity I pull them aside and pretend that I just noticed the offense. "You've got a little" *insert the universal signal for get that thing outta there! Don't kill the messenger is an adage quickly brought to mind. Yesterday I found myself in this type of situation; I made the furrowed brow "what is that?" face at my co-worker, with a pinching gesture at the rogue earhair that's been driving me nuts for 30 days. He didn't get it & all I could think was; how universal is this gesture if he doesn't know it...Then I thought maybe it was a familial shorthand, an obsession 4 generations in the mating. Needless to say I gave up on that hair, but only after multiple failed attempts. Hubby says if it doesn't bother them it shouldn't bother me. HA!
Alternatively, I want people to tell me when something has gone horribly array. If I were to arrive at my Momma or BFF's with my fly down, burrs stuck to my shirt and in my hair, dark flapping booger hanging from my nose, white bread mush glued between my teeth and giant eye gunk- they would laugh first; ask me how my night was; then get to work at reno-ing this fixer-upper. As for most other people? I am pretty sure they would let you walk around in that state, assuming it was either a purposeful decision to be a disaster or I was too far gone already to be helped by a Kleenex and some floss. Either way I will keep worrying about you and your fixable flaws and worrying about how you're gonna react, so there's that:)
This past little while I have been inundated with kids. Most of whom are babies, and as offensive as they can get; they are forgiven for all their misbehaving cuz 'they're just a baby'. But Roddamn it I met an unforgivably rude and crude kid who drove me up the wall! I consider myself a semi-patient person. But my semi-long fuse was lit by this cousin of my cousin's cousin. Causing me to snap and display a bit of my crazy... Well too much crazy for grownup dignity's sake.
Problem the first: this child was parentless on our vacation weekend. That's not to say that she's an orphan or unsupervised. But there are different levels of tolerance from one adult to the next. Parents typically prefer to be more stringent than a casual sitter. So this child (I keep calling her child-she's probably 13) ran rampant all weekend. Screaming, interrupting, name calling, just raising general hell, you know how kids get when there's a supply teacher- ya, like that. And I say boo-urns! That's no way for a young Lady to behave.
Problem the second: I was on vacation and wanted to be quiet. I wanted to have a few laughs. Play a few lawn games. Have a few drinks and spend some time floating down stream. It's my vacation! I just wanted things my way. I wanted to be around people I love. Not have a strange kid vying for my attention by being loud and selfish and judgmental. Clawing at me while I'm swimming. Yelling at me while I'm focused on a game target. Clambering for my attention as well as everyone else's. Humiliating some to impress others- throwing my cousin under the bus more than once. I realize she's on vacation too, but she gets 2 months- I had 3 days- I mean c'mon!
Problem the third: she's a bossy kid. With a theory that the loudest person has the right opinion. There is no room for conversation and I can't stand being 'corrected' by a 13 year old girl who truly believes she knows everything. Which is not true, because she clearly doesn't know how to make friends and influence people, which was a book I read at 13. She is not the boss of me. And I didn't like it.
She pushed my buttons, then she stuck gum in the button box, then she lit that poor button box on fire. So when I finally did loose my temper; telling her to be nicer and that she should worry about her own beeswax for one dang minute, I was the bad guy. Aww man, I hate that. I don't want to get in trouble for saying what everyone else is thinking. Though with 20/20 hindsight I guess there was a reason nobody was saying anything. Apparently it's wrong to chastise your cousin's cousin's cousin, who's not related to you even though the kid is ruining everything*insert grumpy pout. I am not a mean person; It's just hard ignore the antics of someone else's badly behaved kid. That being said there's probably a reason her parents weren't there: Everyone deserves a vacation. I just don't want Miss Bossy MacLoud-Mouth-No-Relation trying to ruin mine. It would've somehow been an easier pill if she was my cousin- at least I would understand those genetics;) But the worst part about this whole thing...I think I was just like her.
While riding up north in the backseat of yet another rammed car, I was beaned by a flying chess set in a metal box. While recovering from the shock; I started this list. And it must've been some bonk to the noggin. Cuz here's all the mental floss. So what I thought about this long weekend.
1. It's called a long weekend because that's how it feels- long.
2. That cottages are far from the city andr by the time you get there you've missed half a day.
3. Jilly is allergic to Puppy cupcakes. They transform her into a poltergeist shooting from both ends.
4. Air mattresses have a central vortex that acts like a black hole.
5. I forget how to write a blog.
6. Almost everyone on my side of the family writes.
7. A year is a long time to feel sorry about not saying you're sorry.
8. Going 8 games undefeated inflates an ego, priming it for popping. Even while playing lawn games.
9. Drunk people don't make much sense, if you're sober.
10. Bro finds immeasurable pleasure in saying the Eff-word in front of my religious relatives.
11. Turning 80 means never having to say thank you.
12. Jilly and her cousin Reese get along and share toys quite well. Except the teeny tennis balls that Jilly cracks like a walnut- splitting yellow fuzz and plastic everywhere.
13. Gin and club soda with lime is a great and classically thirst quenching beverage. Especially in a giant Coleman thermos.
14. When someone owes you $100 they make sure you give them the $5 they just lent you.
15. People pay attention to couples using their silent language.
16. Banana boat sunscreen smells like summertime.
17. I clean to show people I love them.
18. Jilly likes ice cubes and cauliflower.
19. You can lead a man to the shower but you can't be sure he'll come out clean.
20. Bluegrass is the best driving music, but Graceland is a very close second.
21. People like repeating stories. Especially if they got a laugh the first time.
22. Pontoon boats were invented for long weekends and dancing to Bryan Adams.
23. A weekend without a watch on is required every so often.
24. Bathing suits aren't designed to last for 6 years.
25. Packing light means leaving stuff behind. Even though you might need them later.
26. Even when BFF isn't there I feel the influence she's had on my life enjoyment level.
27. I need to Shining myself in a northern cottage for 2 months and write.
28. Swimming in a lake and making a joke about snapping turtles causes them to suddenly appear. Sending a gaggle of girls screaming and an Uncle yelling at us to be quiet.
29. Stargazing apps are wicked sticks.
30. A hot July is way better than a wet one. Mosquitos like to bite my bum.
31. I really like my new sister in law.
32. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day if your coffee has Bailey's.
33. A pavilion is a fancy way of saying concrete floor with roof.
34. Coolers should be see-through for efficiency sake.
35. If there's anything lovelier than queen Anne's lace I haven't found it.
36. Diving into a lake is nature's netti pot.
37. Traffic is terrible when you're between radio stations.
38. Bacon and eggers from A&W are worth every penny.
39. When a stat falls on a Sunday everything is closed and they take Monday too.
40. People want to show off their garden, even if their thumb is more brown than green.
41. Sunscreen makes clean hair look greasy.
42. Soy beans are a very popular crop for Ontario farmers this year.
43. If you're in a town with an asylum, expect to see crazy people.
44. Girls ask questions about boobs and laugh at farts.
45. One big zit provides fodder for a whole weekend worth of jokes.
46. KFC is the perfect picnic saver. Mayonnaise is essential for every summer salad.
47. 80 year olds love playing the piano without their hearing aids.
48. Orange hibiscus are beautiful in the overheated Camp grounds.
49. Most conversations with an 80 year start with; did you hear about -blank- they died.
50. A country Mommy will not tolerate 60 in an 80
51. Sometimes your journey takes you back to where you've started, and gives you a chance to start again.
52. You can make ice cubes out of anything- including oil, broth and milk
53. A dog tumor feels weird to accidentally run your hand over it.
54. Actors don't get vacation pay.
55. The winter wheat is ready for harvest.
56. You'll always get complimented on your old 'I only wear them at the cottage shoes'. My calluses get worse the more I wear these shoes.
57. Wearing dress with a strange neckline generates a strange tan line.
58. Puppa will strangle herself to escape the danger of fireworks.59. Being jammed into a full car is more fun than being alone in an empty one.
60. There is no place as comfy as your own bed. Except a five star hotel.
As always it is nice to be back, and starting up my routine of going to be at 10pm again. It's always amazing how I need a vacation after my vacation. I think I might be trying to pack in too much fun, but who complains about having too much fun? Oh wait. that's me:)
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