Well, today is Canada Day. I think she is 141 years old* today, just slightly older than me. Boy does she look good! No one uses the phrase Dominion Day anymore or call us the Dominion of Canada. Why is that? It sounds so much more dignified. I guess I am showing my age...which is...kissing 40**.
My birthday was on June 24. To celebrate, we did nothing. No trips to the hospital or doctor. I did make myself a chocolate cheesecake which was so evil and delectable no one would have guessed it was low fat (well, lower than if I had used the full fat phili cream cheese).
I also made an avatar of myself. See, she is in the margins. Too eerily close to my features without a lot of tweaking yet so much fun!! I can go shopping virtually without spending a penny, which delights Andrew.
It was a bittersweet birthday as my Aunt Ethel had passed away the day before. She had been in decline for several years and the last time I saw her I didn't recognize her at all. She was no longer the strong, sarcastic, caring matriarch I remembered from my youth, but a frail old woman who couldn't talk or feed herself. I am going to write a tribute to her and indeed the whole Ball family as they are all gone now.
*I dislike the modern use of the phrase "xx years young". We are not starting at 100 and getting younger, we start at zero and get older. I know that it is politically correct and an attempt to make you feel better about getting closer to death but if you want to feel better eat some cheesecake.
**Not 40 yet but close. Not happy about that.***
***f$@%
Showing posts with label day to day. Show all posts
Showing posts with label day to day. Show all posts
July 1, 2008
June 25, 2008
Random Thoughts....
Thought #1
While out grocery shopping with my dad, we came upon the heart healthy display for Becel margarine, touting that we should support the Red Dress thingy for the Heart and Stroke Foundation. Dad looked at the signage and made the following remark:
If the food is gonna kill you, why do they sell it?
Thought #2
In regards to the group of American teenage girls who made a pact to get pregnant at the same time:
The media has been telling us for years that it takes a village to raise a child but no one considered the effects of being raised by the village idiots.
Thought #3
Just as the media was announcing that the police had made a breakthrough in the case of the West End arsonists, a firetruck pulled up in our alley to put out a fire that had been set in a camper truck 2 houses down. The irony on this one speaks for itself, randomly.
While out grocery shopping with my dad, we came upon the heart healthy display for Becel margarine, touting that we should support the Red Dress thingy for the Heart and Stroke Foundation. Dad looked at the signage and made the following remark:
If the food is gonna kill you, why do they sell it?
Thought #2
In regards to the group of American teenage girls who made a pact to get pregnant at the same time:
The media has been telling us for years that it takes a village to raise a child but no one considered the effects of being raised by the village idiots.
Thought #3
Just as the media was announcing that the police had made a breakthrough in the case of the West End arsonists, a firetruck pulled up in our alley to put out a fire that had been set in a camper truck 2 houses down. The irony on this one speaks for itself, randomly.
June 21, 2008
Happy Birthday Andrew
Tuesday, April 17 was Andrew's birthday. We knew it was gonna be special because we spent the first 4 hours of it in the emergency ward.
On Monday, round 9 am Andrew tweaked his back. He described it as "fish hooks in his spine, radiating out to meet more fish hooks." He spent most of the day in bed, yelping out any time he moved. I asked him several times during the day, usually after he screamed, if he wanted to go to the hospital. Each time he said no.
So around midnight he decides that yes, the hospital would be a good idea. We were both in our pyjamas but without changing we "hopped" into the car and sped off to the Miz. (Sorry Andrew, about hitting those potholes...)
Andrew could barely stand and was wincing every 2 seconds but gentleman that he is gave up his position to a lady and her coughing baby. We were finally pre-admitted and the nurse asked his birthday (just one of a battery of questions) Andrew smiled painfully.
"Today, dammit."
"Well, happy birthday sir," replied the young nurse. "What do you think is the cause of your back pain?"
"Karma?" I was trying to be helpful and funny but I think I made matters worse as Andrew started to laugh and then cry out in pain.
Andrew was released around 4 am, after a shot of demerol. The attending doctor didn't know what caused it but didn't think it was a pinched nerve. If the pain persisted, Andrew should see his family doctor.
Wow. After 4 hours of sitting around not even a x-ray. Maybe they should have a drug dispensing station when you come into emergency to help those the hospital obviously doesn't think warrant any sort of investigation. Perhaps I should have kicked Andrew in the shins or back so as to create a spectacle to garner sympathy and more immediate attention.
Well, the rest of the day was uneventful. His agents from California sent him a rather nice bottle of wine and many people called to wish him happy birthday. My mom made him a banana cream pie and I, his loving wife, doted on him. I hope he doesn't get used to that sort of behaviour because it is exhausting.
So for my birthday, to top his, I am gonna have to lose a limb. Or become infected with some sort of radiation to become a superhero.
Chances are that I will just settle for cake.
Happy Birthday love o my life!
On Monday, round 9 am Andrew tweaked his back. He described it as "fish hooks in his spine, radiating out to meet more fish hooks." He spent most of the day in bed, yelping out any time he moved. I asked him several times during the day, usually after he screamed, if he wanted to go to the hospital. Each time he said no.
So around midnight he decides that yes, the hospital would be a good idea. We were both in our pyjamas but without changing we "hopped" into the car and sped off to the Miz. (Sorry Andrew, about hitting those potholes...)
Andrew could barely stand and was wincing every 2 seconds but gentleman that he is gave up his position to a lady and her coughing baby. We were finally pre-admitted and the nurse asked his birthday (just one of a battery of questions) Andrew smiled painfully.
"Today, dammit."
"Well, happy birthday sir," replied the young nurse. "What do you think is the cause of your back pain?"
"Karma?" I was trying to be helpful and funny but I think I made matters worse as Andrew started to laugh and then cry out in pain.
Andrew was released around 4 am, after a shot of demerol. The attending doctor didn't know what caused it but didn't think it was a pinched nerve. If the pain persisted, Andrew should see his family doctor.
Wow. After 4 hours of sitting around not even a x-ray. Maybe they should have a drug dispensing station when you come into emergency to help those the hospital obviously doesn't think warrant any sort of investigation. Perhaps I should have kicked Andrew in the shins or back so as to create a spectacle to garner sympathy and more immediate attention.
Well, the rest of the day was uneventful. His agents from California sent him a rather nice bottle of wine and many people called to wish him happy birthday. My mom made him a banana cream pie and I, his loving wife, doted on him. I hope he doesn't get used to that sort of behaviour because it is exhausting.
So for my birthday, to top his, I am gonna have to lose a limb. Or become infected with some sort of radiation to become a superhero.
Chances are that I will just settle for cake.
Happy Birthday love o my life!
June 16, 2008
Post Sex in the City
It is official. I am getting old. And you are too...don't think you are not.
A few of us "girls" went to see "Sex in the City" on its second opening weekend. Annie and I bought the tickets ahead of time and we were told by the child-man at the kiosk to arrive at least on hour early as it gets crazy on Friday nights.
I'm sure it does get crazy, and indeed I have witnessed such madness at the theatres, usually on opening night. This night it was anything but, except at the concession stands where wait times were about 30 min. I assume that this is why there is 15 minutes of trailers before the movie begins. Anyway, the movie was funny and poignant and full of the girly goodness that made the series such a delight. One critic derisively described the show/movie as nothing more than "shopping and shagging". And so it is. You either get it or not.
Afterward, we had a bite to eat at Moxie's in the mall. I noticed immediately, as did my companions, that all the "hostesses" looked no older than twelve. Seriously.
The highlight of the evening came when we were ordering. Our very skinny and young hostess was asked by Annie what desert she would recommend. I don't think that this girl ate anything more filling than nicotine but she answered with a smile:
"I like the chocolate mousse but my father loves the giant cookie with ice cream."
Annie replied without blinking: "So, since I am as old as your dad, it follows that I would like the giant cookie?"
"Giant cookie it is then," the hostess said absently as she smiled and took down the order.
Yes, it is official. We are old.
Get off my lawn.
A few of us "girls" went to see "Sex in the City" on its second opening weekend. Annie and I bought the tickets ahead of time and we were told by the child-man at the kiosk to arrive at least on hour early as it gets crazy on Friday nights.
I'm sure it does get crazy, and indeed I have witnessed such madness at the theatres, usually on opening night. This night it was anything but, except at the concession stands where wait times were about 30 min. I assume that this is why there is 15 minutes of trailers before the movie begins. Anyway, the movie was funny and poignant and full of the girly goodness that made the series such a delight. One critic derisively described the show/movie as nothing more than "shopping and shagging". And so it is. You either get it or not.
Afterward, we had a bite to eat at Moxie's in the mall. I noticed immediately, as did my companions, that all the "hostesses" looked no older than twelve. Seriously.
The highlight of the evening came when we were ordering. Our very skinny and young hostess was asked by Annie what desert she would recommend. I don't think that this girl ate anything more filling than nicotine but she answered with a smile:
"I like the chocolate mousse but my father loves the giant cookie with ice cream."
Annie replied without blinking: "So, since I am as old as your dad, it follows that I would like the giant cookie?"
"Giant cookie it is then," the hostess said absently as she smiled and took down the order.
Yes, it is official. We are old.
Get off my lawn.
May 9, 2008
Chunky Coffee
I couldn't figure out why my coffee has been chunky the last few days.
Turns out the milk was off.
No doubt Andrew will use this as fodder in his never ending tirade against the drink of the gods.
Turns out the milk was off.
No doubt Andrew will use this as fodder in his never ending tirade against the drink of the gods.
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