While eating midnight tacos and splitting a Coke with my Hubby the pros and cons of eating vegetarian came up again. Pros: I feel better, I look better, it's better for the environment. Cons: Bacon is delicious, I miss bacon.
We are foodies by definition, though I wish we had more time to cook for ourselves. Hubby is an especially great cook. He makes a mean spaghetti and a brilliant egg breakfast. His sautéing skills have really blossomed. While enthralled in a conversation about our favourite foods, currently mine is Saag Paneer roti and Mexican, and stuffing our faces we stumbled upon a common question: What would you want for your last meal? Which brought up another question: If you could only eat one thing for the rest of your life what would it be? Which brought up another question: Is there a food that you would erase from the face of the Earth? Today at long last all these questions will be answered, please read on.
Last meal
This is what you would choose if it was the last meal of your life. You may not be on death row cuz my impulse tells me I don't have a lot of inmates or future convicts in my readership but it's always good to be prepared. As it's my last meal, and I won't have to deal with the consequences. I will be having:
Steak Tartare with toast corners.
Kitchen sink salad- a salad I made up with loads of veggies on an arugula/Boston lettuce base with a light lime vinaigrette.
Roasted fingerling potatoes with ancient grainy mustard.
Rainbow chard with garlic and lemon oil.
Prime rib with Horseradish. Mmm hmmm
And for dessert? Lemon meringue or Pavlova with fresh fruit- I say OR because both of those desserts are a challenge to get the foam just right. And perhaps something outside the standard jailhouse fare.
For the rest of your life
This category is for when you get trapped on a desert island with only one thing to eat. Crates and crates of the same thing. This example also exists in a world where you don't need all those fancy vitamins and minerals to have a happy healthy life. This desert island is a utopia despite the fact that you only get one meal forever. So, with all that in mind, ideally I would like a taster platter with avocado, New Brunswick smoked salmon, sliced Ontario field tomatoes, red onion, spicy dills, toast corner and capers. But if you're playing this game with a purist like my Hubby, you must pick one thing... That's tougher. He chose protein shakes- yuck. For my crates and crates of one type of food to live on for the rest of my life: I might say Chex Mix because it's savoury and salty. It has many different textures and reminds me of all the things I've left behind to live on this lonely utopian island. Or I might say Cinnamon Toast Crunch, a sweet and crunchy meal- but would it include milk? I guess I'll have to wait until I am shipwrecked to find out.
Banished
This one was simple: Cream of turkey. A white gloppy nearly gravy gross not quite soup. My Papa B used to eat open faced white bread sandwiches for weeks after Thanksgiving or any other turkey serving holiday. Cream of turkey might be the reason I became predominantly herbivore. That plus the movie Babe. Who could eat ham after hearing that little stinker sing?
A good life deserves good food. That's an emotionally scientific fact. Delicious meals can release all sorts of great things into your body. You know how they say all you need is love? Well, all I really need is a personal chef with a fully stocked pantry. And barring that a credit card with an available balance and some strategic reservations.
It has been so long since I've had a vacation... a really real vacation. I have gone on trips to my parents, day trips down or up to the beach and hung out in Montreal. But I haven't had 2 weeks solid of days and nights off...With no strings attached and a few bonus days with Hubby gone up north. I really woke myself up! And I learned quite a bit.
1. Putting a ribbon on something doesn't make it a gift.
2. No plan-plans are the easiest and most satisfying plans to attend.
3. Anything is appropriate wardrobe if it's THAT hot out.
4. Buns are great if I wanna look like a ballerina without an eating disorder.
5. Lucy positions herself so that as I pet her the fan blows her loose hair back in my face. She's tricky like that.
6. I remembered how to scream. But once you've lost your voice it won't come back if you keep screaming.
7. Not every selfless act is free.
8. Taking a gamble with thirty percent chance of thunderstorms is like betting against the dealer.
9. Kids are cute until they make that face and explode from both ends.
10. Jogging when the humid ex is high is like trying to breath underwater.
11. James Bond is hot. And if Beckham were James Bond there would be way more kicking.
12. Obsession is something most people should keep to themselves. Or limit to 2 hours per visit.
13. Don't start a conversation with the Commissioner unless you're prepared to be thoroughly tongue lashed for your insolence.
14. Cuban food rocks.
15. BFFs exist for all the great-big-fun and fabulous reasons.
16. Peeing in the pool is acceptable if you're laughing that hard.
17. Karaoke is supposed to be songs everyone knows. Singing- scratch that- screaming along is part of the fun.
18. If your Hubby recognizes the smell of your fart, he'll sell you out; just to make friends.
19. White wine can make you fell like falling or like flying depending on the region of the grapes.
20. A drive-in is the perfect place for 2 girls to talk through a movie.
21. Puppa will always wait until you're close enough to benefit from a good shake.
22. Drunk men will try and proposition you because you have a dog. Having a dog means having a place nearby; so they don't have to drive back home to Kitchener.
23. Sometimes the most interesting looking people talk about some lame stuff. (ie: Egg salad or bandanas)
24. I want to ride the boat around the channel past the drive-in. I don't know what it's called or who owns it, or if they even take passengers, but I want to.
25. I forgot how much I loved high kicking.
26. Jilly doesn't stomp at me when she's hungry, she just stares and puppy sighs as though I should just get it, because I am her Momma.
27. Being a single Puppy-Momma isn't hard if you have a part-time nanny.
28. Slumber parties rock.
29. I can sweat while eating brunch, so that when I get up the pool drips down the back of my dress and puddles on to the seat.
30. Caribana is not as loud in a backyard swimming pool.
31. Meat is not my friend. Unless it's still alive, in which case I will pet it and we will become friends.
32. My Hubby isn't happy with only boys around, but the way he smells I don't think girls would be happy around him either.
33. The 4 storey hole in my backyard is a muddy and green pond...which is kinda Zen.
34. There is a family of 3 mini-city bred skunks lurking in my neighbourhood. There is a turf war brewing.
35. The barometer is a tool of torture.
36. Pickle sandwiches don't exist for a reason.
37. You can get 2 weeks out of a pedicure if you walk on sand.
38. The Olympics aren't fun until we get to the medal rounds; just like every other sporting event.
39. Lemon juice is not a hair product, it's an urban wives tale. Just like not being able to swim at Toronto beaches.
40. Roller coasters are a great source of tension. There should be more movies about them, though I imagine they'd be shorts.
41. My Baby Belle sounds better singing happy tunes, and happiest while playing the Disney library.
42. It's easier to encapsulate and optimize your time in the city- the close proximity allows for entertainment leap frogging.
43. Secret codes are hard to explain but helpful to have... Even if you're the only one who knows it.
44. Little Red Riding hood is a very clever little girl. But not every babysitter gets fridge privileges.
45. Music can come from anywhere, but that doesn't make it all good.
46. My arms tan, my chest tans, my stomach burns and my legs get patchy.
47. A facial can take 2 weeks to heal, and even then is still working hard.
48. My Puppa sleeps as close to me as possible, even if there is tonnes of room in bed.
49. Creating a cartoon series is harder than it looks.
50. Spending a rainy day watching an entire season on Netflix is worth the $7 a month.
51. Picking it just makes it worse.
By the time you relax, you're vacation is over. Which is sad- but I gotta say I was missing you. You know, missing this, US<3 and I am glad to have it back, though I do wish I was still floating around a pool or getting macro-dermabrasion at the beach, or bbqing with my Besties in the backyard... But maybe, just maybe, if I work hard and try hard and hope, I can still do it on the weekends... Oh right, weekends are for doing what you want... Silly me. And I will keep doing it, you can bet on that. Welcome back and happy Tuesday of the August long weekend. I am glad to see ya!
Yesterday was a good day. But today might be better:) Yesterday's yesterday I wrote a list. A long list. A long list that was detailed. A complimented list, with very specific direction on how things on this vacation are to go down. A vacation execution list if you will. Well, with a not to shabby a showing first day showing; I have started checking things off my list.
My sunshiny toes enforced my love of cartoon strong women. And cycling between the parked cars in my new purple helmut, which cost way too much money. But the part-time comedian at the bike shop made it worth it. My facial was a success. Moving the congestion from my chin and opening it up into summertime skin. My skin is peeled and massaged and moisturized almost back to where I like it. Soft.
My uke played my new navy nail polish off with great gusto. Baby Belle finally remembers my name. But she needs some new music, you know to impress me. Dressed as a superhero sailor in my new Monroe glasses helping to deflect the dust from my neighborhood. I got a giant douche bag drink, soy milk and all dat. Which is just as good as I remember it. My Kitty vibrates beside me and the Puppa snores and sleep kicks me as I write this. None of my books are getting any closer to being finished. But the sunset was beautiful turning the CN Tower that lovely shade of concrete pink. And the planes are quietly circling the flight path.
Today, I have something out of the ordinary. I am going to the recording studio with a 10 year old who wrote her first song and had it composed. A 4 part harmony built behind a drum kit and bass guitar. So, I get to mentor a brave baby. Ohh it's kinda cool. What a lucky and wonderful life! And I am free to do it! And then I get to hang out with my BFF. Vacation I LOVE you. Everyday is great. Those last few things aren't even on my long list, but I am excited to do them too. So as Hubby and BFF keep telling me; stop pressuring myself. I am going to release the pressure and dance a little more. And that's gonna rock! I am rocking, rolling and reeling. And with all this music floating around, who could stand still?
As you may know I have been working quite a bit. Taking advantage of time off and trying to fill my weekends with fun and friends. But I got a much 2 week vacation. Hurray! It's not a second too soon either. I am so excited to have 2 weeks of time for me! Here's what I am planning on doing.
1. Sleep. Period. End of sentence. Having to be at work for 7am everyday has me getting up at 4:30am and going to bed at 10pm-or at least trying to depending on how good TV was that night.
2. Eat salad! Having on set food 5 days a week has wreaked havoc on my body. Not to get too detailed, but I could use a good clearing out.
3. Go to the movie theatre and watch a double feature- perhaps even sneaking into the second movie*insert shocked gasp I haven't been to a movie in months. And the summer blockbusters must be reviewed!
4. Did I mention sleep? Cuz I'm gonna.
5. Take the Stinker to the park, give her a good brushing to make her coat shine like silk in the sunlight. And let her sniff until she's decided the world is too big to explore in one day.
6. Have Cuban food. Julie's has the best guacamole in the city, it's right up the block from me and I haven't been in more than a year. Plus maybe a few Mojitos... Yes. I think yes.
7. Visit my Momma and Papa. Last time I was there, I didn't take a breath while speaking to them. It might be nice to actually hear how they are doing. Though they are busy folks so I will take Hubby and the Stinker, and plan hikes and riverside picnics.
8. Go to the beach. And swim hopefully in an erroneously small bathing suit to even out my tan lines.
9. Finish my 2 books I've got on the go. One for pleasure and the other because I will not be beaten by a book, you hear me book? I will not be beaten!
10. Play my Baby Belle. That poor little lady has been missing me and I her. Her strings growing limp. I am pretty sure she's put an ad on craiglist looking for a casual hookup/jam session.
11. Write this series of children's books I have been dancing around for months. You can swear and do pornographic things in kid's books now right? Is that where they're learning it? I think yes.
12. Pedicure + many other assorted spa necessities. I have to be slathered and lathed. Removing multiple layers of sun damaged skin from everywhere. And I mean everywhere. Especially my heels, they look like a crocodile skin socks.
13. Patio brunches! I need at least 2 patio brunches. Brunch is my favourite meal of the day, combining the wholesome foods of breakfast and the boozey sleep in behaviour of lunch:) mmm breakfast caesars.
14. Just an all around relaxation celebration. I want to sit on my tiny balcony and watch the world go by and laugh at the poor Joe's who don't have time off. Laugh and laugh and laugh.
15. I am going to take an allergy pill and pet my Kitty until she's rumbling so loud the couch vibrates. Until the Puppa gets jealous and chases her into the bedroom.
16. I am going to see friends. Tall friends, short friends, even friends with kids! I want to see them all.
So, since I won't have time off again until September, I have to take advantage of the summer now. (Although with global warming the way it is we may never see winter again) I do love the feeling of accomplishment a stay-cation provides. But I am really looking forward to exploring the world a little bit more, and planning a large scale trip. For now though, it's amazing the type of adventure you can have in your own backyard.
Every Monday my co-workers tease me about the amount of stuff I jam into a weekend. Trying to remind me that weekends are for relaxing. And seeing as this was a partially cloudy one and BFF was out of town, I decided to actually rest up. So I watched movies. All sorts of movies. Some I hadn't seen and a couple old favourites. Movies from the 60's, 70's, 80s and 90's. Meryl Streep, Robert DeNiro, Tim Allen, Justin Long, Sigorney Weaver, Jerry Lewis, Christopher Reeves, the Sheriff of Nottingham & Dr Quinn, Medicine Woman. It was my goal to have a quiet weekend. A weekend filled with snuggling. A weekend filled with relaxation and rejuvenation. Full of cuddling the Stinker and falling in love with our favourite actors all over again. To try fitting somewhere on the couch with Hubby and Lucy, all 4 of us in perfect harmony. And watch the magic of the movies.
Now Hubby has never seen the classics. Unlike me growing up in a world where colour didn't exist until grade 5. Classics were all I knew. A woman was a woman in a wonderful gown. A man was a hero saving the day at the last minute. People cried and music swelled and romance was honest. No false pretense. Just you and I in love. Travelling through time to be together. Clandestine train rides and ringing bells. The comedy was physical; the romance: inevitable. The movies are where my life belongs. Watching people struggle with the old questions and inventing new ones, it's only a matter of time until we've solved them, if we work together.
Hubby says the oldies are nothing new. That you know what's happening before it happens. I say it helps us to learn that the struggles we have are nothing other than daily life. That it's okay to struggle. To scramble and scrounge. The peasants have been doing it for generations. Stealing from Peter to pay Paul. Why would the 60's be different? Why would that change in the 80's? If the human condition is just that, the stories are timeless. Its the amount of nudity that's changed not the story. Before when knees were news, they showed'em. And they've been trying to show more ever since. But it is the characters who fight and the stories that stick. Why would the movies change?
Movies in the 70's and 90's trying to prove they are doing something different. Reinventing the wheel? Well, since the wheel was invented people have been trying. Trying to create a new world through movies. Trying to tell a story we've already heard with a new narrator. The movies are a special place. A place where anything can happen... And even though this was suposed to be a relaxing weekend; I found myself, travelling through time, questing to the edges of the universe, celebrating Christmas in New York twice, watching a play from 1912, strolling beside a lake, staying at more than one grand hotel and answering way too many phone calls. The most significant change was the way people talked on the phone. The way they left messages for each other. Pay phones and desk phones, operators making important connections. I do miss that. So I guess it wasn't as relaxing a weekend as I had hoped. But I will always be glad to sit with a bowl of Bits and Bites and have an adventure. Thank you NetFlix:)
When I was about 17 I took a job babysitting three kids before and after school. Now, all three of these kids were kooky. The oldest a girl: was bossy and loud and was always right. The second a boy: was clumsy and forgetful and needed help with math. The youngest boy was hilarious, even with his lisp and his constantly running nose he was my favourite. But then it's always easy to love the baby, and being "this many*insert all five fingers* ywars ode", who wouldn't? Their Momma would drop them off at my house at 7:30 and I would take them to school, walking of course, except the eldest girl who took a bus from the corner to her french immersion school. And when she was gone the boys and I would walk/play all the way to school, which she thought was immature. She was a very mature grade 5. Throughout the school year, I gave the youngest nightmares by watching Kindergarten Cop. The middle boy lost his pants and the Girl would just tattle on me all the live long day. I remember one day when I picked them up from school; the youngest was wearing different clothes than the ones I had dropped him off in. Upon asking him what happened, he informed me they were lost and found clothes. While waiting for the answer to why he was wearing a stranger's outfit, he told me he had "fawen into a pudduo up to he-yor"*insert a hand a foot above his head. Despite not being the ideal role model and having a pretty sketchy track record when summer came I was upgraded to their fulltime babysitter. Summer is great for kiddies but their Momma still had to work...So... Let's put the pieces together... I started babysitting them at 7:30 am at their house and stayed until 4:30 a demanding job, for a 17 year old.
Our routine would go as follows. I would drag myself out of bed at ten minutes to 7 and race around getting dressed. Jumping into my Chevy Lumina I sped the back roads all the way and managed to make it just in time...barely. Then their Momma would tell me what to make for lunch and she would leave. Kids being kids and it being summer they wouldn't wake up until 8:30, and in the time between I would sleep on the sofa. On more than one occasion I woke to find them all sitting on the sofa beside me watching Phantom Menace, the house fav at the time. Then it was time for toast and jam, mandatory 1 hour outside time and maybe a movie or craft depending on my enthusiasm level and the Girl's demeanour. She loved crafts and sometimes I didn't want her to have fun; there I said it, I was a petty teenager. We quickly feel into a rhythm. A lazy summer beat.
One morning that changed. Having fallen asleep in the typical way I once again awoke to the pod race screaming through their surround sound. While rousing from my slumber, I heard another noise. A shuffling, a scratching, a what was that...was that a squeaking? type sound. Pausing the movie- a VHS by the way- we all listened together. Suddenly, as if on cue a bat flew out of the chimney and began circling the room. In a normal household this would have raised screams of "it's in my hair!" but not here. The weekend earlier their family had gone to Science North a wonderful place with an extensive bat exhibit. These 3 youngsters remained calm, knowing that a bat uses sonar to locate objects and that this tiny little herbivore was trapped inside and only wanted out, so he could go to bed. I myself have never had a problem with bats, so I calmly walked to the screen door and held it open to our flying friend. All with the stillness and dignity of 4 smart kids respecting nature. Cue the three legged tabby; a cat that only moved to follow a sun spot across the floor... With the sudden focus of a jungle cat, this tabby leapt from 3 legs to snatch the bat mid air. Only to have the problem of, now that I've got it pinned beneath my one front leg, how do I get this twitchingly delicious morsel in my mouth? Back to the stunned audience...screams arise from 4 mouthes in shocking harmony. Which sends the tabby into a frenzy, who then grabs the flapping bat in it's teeth and makes for the bedrooms upstairs. Three screaming children!! The bat, oh no, Tabby got the bat!!! And now it's eating it in your Momma's bedroom. Ordering all 3 outside I race up the stairs in hopes that the bat if not still alive is at least not a bloody mess on the sheets. Which of course it is. Storming out past 3 still crying kids, asking if Batty is alright I get a shovel, prepare a burial and strip the bed. I am in tears at this point, the babysitting course did not prepare me for this. With the sheets in the laundry, I arrive in the kitchen just as their Momma calls for the mid-morning check in. Consoling me and cajoling me, she says the best way to fix this situation is to go outside and have popsicles. Yeah, right, but you know it's just crazy enough to work.
Walking outside to see 3 glum faces suddenly light up with the thought of mid-morning popsicles. Problem solved right? As the 4 of us are licking our drippy frozen juice, the middle boy starts asking to play Squeeze, a local game, like baseball but with only 3 players, to which the youngest boys whines that he will be left out again, my response is, I'll pitch so they can all play, as long as they set it up. So, they agree and go to the shed, unpacking the bases, the gloves, the bats and the ball. Sitting behind home plate, finishing my popsicle, I start to think, today might actually turn out okay. Before I've finished the thought, another bat swoops down across the deck and towards me, the middle kid who's setting up with bat in hand shrieks like he's having flashbacks of wartime. Swings the bat with all his gusto and knocks one out of the park...Hitting me square in the nose with a Louisville. Crumpling like a paper doll, I sink to the deck, 3 sets of children's shoes huddled around me. "I phink she's dead." the youngest says. "She's not dead, she's faking." the girl snarked in her typical snotty voice. Frozen andWrapped a cocoon of pain, both emotional and physical, the blood streaming from my nose. So I did what any rational 17 year old does. I called my Momma. Bombing down the back roads, she pulls into the driveway and has everything humming along smoothly in minutes. All calm, cool and collected, the way the best Mommas are. Turns out that sometimes even though the cats are snatching and bats are swinging, you really just need a designated hitter to clean up. As for the kids, we lasted the summer, just barely, and after that I hung up my babysitting belt without batting an eye.
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:)
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:)
When I was young and my Bro was younger, my family went on a trip to Florida. The typical Canadian escape over March Break to a place filled with other Canadians off for March Break. My Papa being the efficiency expert he is, forced a 3 day drive into a 2 day window. Which would of course be the best way to start our vacation. My father pushing through Michigan and racing through Georgia, and the 3 of us sleeping for almost everything in between. In a race against an unknown timekeeper, challenging him to stay up all night; stopping only for vending machine coffee and rest stop bathroom breaks. When we arrived in Florida he was tired and grumpy. That much I recall. And what could make a grown man even grumpier? How's about Disney, Epcot and Universal with 2 kids complaining about standing in line and too young to really appreciate the value of a family trip...Ya I think that would do it.
One of the reasons my Parents chose Florida, was the free stay at a timeshare resort, 40 mins from all tourist destinations, a great location with quality amenities and guaranteed property amelioration. After the last few years in the US economy, I guess they are happy they declined, even though they sat through (with us) 2 long winded slideshow presentations and 5 different pushy sales tactics in increasingly smaller rooms. Including: Bribing the children, free tickets to local attractions and lots more exciting and incredible offers. But they obviously didn't know: my family doesn't feel guilty for taking the free shit. That's how they trap those other poor buggers*insert thumb point at the rube next to you.
The most memorable parts about this vacation though was the cheap- side of the highway Croc farm that we went to... Not quite a zoo, not a petting farm, it was a strange mix of domestic and exotic animals. With a GIANT concrete crocodile out front, acting as the doorway to this not so foreign land. It's huge teeth rounded down from the probable sharp points they used to be, before people got all worked up over things like that. The crocodile show was every 15 mins, not very exciting though a burly man in blue coveralls did put his head into the mouth of a small crocodile. The croc was the size of a chocolate lab with a longer snout and tail. Though the safari expedition host empathically assured us, it was very dangerous. He was later selling souvenirs in the gift shop.
On our visit to this park, my Papa's mood improved drastically. We were 6 hours from starting back towards home and he was finally smiling. Starring at a screaming monkey. You know the kind with the pink bums, that have clearly been using rough toilet paper. Papa had put a quater into the turn machines filled with food pellets for the caged animals and was holding a handful of those dried out nuggets. And that monkey was reaching as far as he could while still hanging from his rope, screaming for all that food. Papa throws a pellet. Monkey makes a lame attempt at catching, misses, pellet falls to the floor, monkey shrieks, and holds his hand out for another. Papa laughs, throws another pellet. Another lame grab at the air and another missed pellet. More screaming and angry bouncing- monkey begging for another try to catch another pellet. And so it goes, throw, swat, scream, laugh, throw; until my Papa is on his very last pellet. Making eye contact with this high hanging Monkey, Papa says: "It's the last one, you better catch it." With an exaggerated lob my Papa sends that last pellet high into the air, Monkey extends his hand like God to Adam on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, catches it triumphantly lobs it into his mouth, blows a raspberry then sveltely slides down the rope to collect the handful he's missed. Starring at this, it dawns on me, even at that young age. That monkey has tricked my Papa out of his handful of pellets. Pretending the whole time that he was trying desperately to catch those pieces, knowing he could, but if he did, that was the end of the game. That monkey was smarter than all those timeshare sales people put together.
On our way back out the crocs mouth the safari expedition host tells me to pick any souvenirs I want for a dollar. I choose a tiny message in a bottle filled with sand: Beachfront Property. Then clutching it closely, I climb back into the Winstar, saying goodbye to Florida and Papa aims us Norh, towards home. We made it back in 1.75 days, a record for even my driven Papa. But what's the point of a record if you don't keep trying to break it.
Interesting side note. While researching this blog, I learned that southern Florida is the only place Alligators and Crocodiles live side by side. This little Monkey says: who's teaching who?
I am a 30+ year old. It took me 3/4 of a year to become alright with that. Getting older and becoming the person I never thought I'd be old enough to be; for example a Mme, changes things. I don't mean that in the dramatic I am getting old way. But at 23 I was convinced that I would never actually be mature. Twenty-three Whoa! was quite frankly a crazy and strange age. I didn't know who I was or who I really wanted to become. The only thing I knew was who I didn't want to be, which didn't help. I knew I didn't want to be alone. And I really didn't want to be scared anymore. I was very nervous. Nervous to have an opinion. Nervous to be myself. To say what I thought, and have an actual full blown personality and all the great and awful things that go along with it. Which brings me to where I am now. Seven years after I was so scared. I am not nearly as scared. But now I have friends who are going through those 23 year old things. And I see their fears, which scares me all over again. But Baby, regardless of the things that scare you, you are who you are... And it would take a lot of time, effort and therapy to change those things.
Dear 23 year old:
My biggest concern; the way you cover yourself up. Painting yourself with thick layers of synthetic skin, protecting you from the world outside. I know you're scared. I can see it in the measured way you talk. The ruler leaning against your phrasing. Taking the wind out of your sails. You deserve more from yourself, and it makes me sad that you don't think so. If you, a beautiful 23 year old don't feel love for yourself at the prime of your life, when you are the most beautiful, natural and lovely creature, what hope is there for the rest of the world? Including the 30+year old woman that I am now. Dear 23 year old, you are so amazing that watching you become a brave and idealistic soul is inspiring the people around you. Please understand that all the best people you know got their hearts broken by people who pretended to love them. That you're not perfect, and nobody expects that from you, except you. You are better than the way people treat you. Your high school friends won't be your only friends forever, and soon you'll get to choose a whole new clique, people who will be your family because they love you, not just because they live in the same school district. But being a grown up will be really hard for the few first years. Kitty says: Hang in there baby.
When I was your age, I was crazy. I couldn't get a grip on the idea of becoming a "member of society". Paying taxes and doing things like cleaning my own apartment. I lived with roommates; which teaches you how to suffer in silence. Grin and bearing dirty dishes and uncleaned washrooms. Girls are not easy to understand at the best of times. Twenty-somethings are even worse. With the climatic apex of living on their own and trying to be grown ups before they really understand who they are...Can I even tell you. I hated myself, I didn't need anybody's help, I covered myself with laquer and expected people to see past it. But you don't need to hide to be seen. You are beautiful and I know you can hear me. Please know when a 30+ says it's going to get easier, that it will. It doesn't stay crazy for much longer. Dear 23, you are young and beautiful, things get better and we will welcome you at our 30+ table because you help us to feel like we're helping:) And Sister Sledge, we are family, because you chose me.
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