Coffee Killers

I just did a pop answers thing on facebook (it’s an application that mimics Family Feud where you try to guess the most popular answers to a question in a limited amount of time.)  I’m completely stupid at it unless I think about the question for at least five minutes before clicking the play button.  Because when that clock is ticking down my brain likes to stop working and panic about the fact that the clock is ticking down.  But how simple should it be to list the things people put in their coffee?  Why think about that one?  It’s a limited list, is it not?  I’m not so sure anymore.

The most popular answer SHOULD be nothing, because coffee really is best enjoyed uncorrupted if it’s made right in the first place.  But that wasn’t one of the answers.  McDonald’s coffee is better than Tim Hortons, in my humble opinion, although neither one requires any help in the good coffee flavour department.  Starbucks ties with Tim’s.    Unfortunately a lot of coffee requires some sort of addition to  make it taste decent.  Including my own, although it’s fresh ground starbucks beans, I just like it better with hazlenut cream.  Which also was not one of the answers.  And nobody said artificial sweetners!  Restaurants might as well just put those away I guess.

Cream.  Sugar.  Milk.  Baileys.  I got those four fast enough.  Chocolate I hit on at the very last second.  Mocha.  Yummm.   Kahlua I missed!  Adding Kahlua is overkill, isn’t it?  What are you trying to do, make your coffee taste like…..coffee???  I also did not write down Whiskey, although it was one of the popular answers.  Seriously.  I didn’t think of it because I don’t understand why anyone would purposely mutilate both their whiskey and their coffee in one fell swoop.  I guess I’m not Irish.  I find the combination slightly revolting.  I’ve tried the Irish Cream cream too, and I don’t like it either.

But the last one is truly gag-worthy.  Cinnamon.  I kid you not.  I have to admit I’ve never tried it, but I’ve never tried live worms in my coffee either and don’t really feel I need to do that to discover that it makes me sick.  Cinnamon is for buns and apple pies.  Put it in your hot apple cider if you must, but pul-ease, leave the coffee beans alone.

Cinnamon!  My brain is still reeling.

Read This Book

City of Thieves, by David Benioff.  Insightful, thrilling, funny, terrifying.  It says so on the back cover.  You should believe that, since it’s true.  I was hooked from the first page.

Reading in Progress

I like to own books, so I have a disorganized  library of them with sections in several locations about the house.  I don’t mind if people borrow them (I happily encourage it) and often I don’t notice what’s missing, and get surprised when something I’d forgotten about is returned to me.  I suppose that makes me a bad librarian.  It’s not so much negligence as nonchalance.  Although that doesn’t mean I don’t love them.  They’re like interesting friends. 

                              

                             

                                

These are the latest additions to the mixed bag repository.  I was going to blather on about them and maybe even rate them, but that’s too much like trying to decide which friend is your absolute favourite.  Totally depends on mood and circumstance and could all change tomorrow.

Arrangements

Contrary to popular opinion and hard evidence, I do like real flowers.  I don’t know why approximatley 90% of the ones that find themselves anywhere near me promptly shrivel up and die.   The other 10% eventually die too, they just linger for about as long as it takes for me to develop some faint hope for their survival.  If it’s possible to give off lethal flower vibes, I guess I’m the queen of that.  So I don’t have any live plants in my house.  Trust me, if you gave me one, and several days have elapsed, it’s a pretty sure bet that it is no longer living.  I don’t know of anyone else in my immediate family who has this particular talent.

Since I really do like the look of foliage and plant-like things around the house, it’s unfortunate that I don’t have a knack for making tasteful artificial arrangements.  I’m not saying I haven’t tried, and I AM good at colors, but hopelessly lacking in the patience it takes to fuss with something until it looks good.  This would be why I had three identical pots, each with a bunch of yellow grass and a clump of burnt sienna cat tails stuffed into them in my living room.  And a leafy artificial tree that only needs a shower once every three or four months to keep looking green and perky.  That’s it.  Decor with potential. 

I don’t have a ‘before’ picture, but here’s the ‘after’s.  All I had to do was mention that I wasn’t completely happy with my arrangements (or complete lack of arrangement) and my sister took it from there.  I just tried to do what I was told and stay out of her way.

   

   

They look pretty good!!  Well, maybe you’d have to see the ‘before’ to truly appreciate the improvement.  And we did nothing to the alien giraffe, I just stuck him in there for the sake of symmetry.  I love his face.  It looks like he’s saying ‘what the hell are you doing NOW? God give me strength’ or ‘beam me up, Scotty’.  Whatever alien giraffes talk about, who really knows.

May Day

Anyone want to join me for an iced tea in the backyard today?  No???  Why not?????

These two step sitting animals (a cow and a sheep) are incredibly cute when they’re not blanketed in white stuff.  I hope I don’t have to return them to Wal-mart citing ’snow damage’ as the reason.

The chicken appears to have weathered the storm, but is not doing a great job of luring birds to the bath today.  Or to their deaths.  Or whatever.

Behold our amazing self weeding garden.  I TOLD W not to put it in yet.  He NEVER listens.  Whatever survives will be DAMNED HARDY.

And here is the beautiful camoflauged three pronged stump.  Leaves will make this area even more gorgeous.  Especially if some of them actually turn green. 

There was a lot more snow this morning but as you can see it’s trying really hard to melt and disappear by noon.  Although that’s not happening.  It’s not like we’ve never before had snow in May in Edmonton. I don’t know why it always seems so bizarre to us.  But like all true Canadians we dearly love to dwell on all the different aspects of our crazy weather.  And how it has ruined our lives in one way or another.  Best to always be able to blame THAT on something unpredictable over which we have no control whatsoever. 

And in the grand scheme of things it doesn’t matter because I don’t even like iced tea.

Home Alone Two

For the longest time when we were first married the only reason W. remembered my birthday in May was because it co-incided with the opening of fishing season in Ontario.  Then it was helpful for my kids to remember it since Mother’s Day could be the exact same day, or at least in the same week.  This year I turned 60, so I was just kind of hoping everybody would forget about it altogether.  Of course they didn’t, but I’m very thankful to everyone that there was so very little fuss made about the whole thing. 

My sister Ann came for a visit the 3rd to the 9th.  We had a great time together, as only sisters can.  I love her dearly.  That was one of the best presents ever.  Then W. left for his spring fishing trip on the 11th, but not before he got a deal done on a new car for me.  It’s only taken a year of messing about for the reality of it to finally happen.  I had begun referring to it as the phantom car because it just would not materialize.   So those were both great birthday/mother’s day gifts.  Nothing beats the personalized cards from each of the grandchildren though.  I’d ALMOST trade in my new car for any one of those.   And then I was kind of happily stunned by all the facebook wishes from my friends and relatives.  No one mentioned the big ’six – oh’.  Thank you, thank you.  I know I should be thrilled that I’ve lived so long and been so blessed in this life.  But SIXTY????  Blah.  And in that spirit I spent the 13th home alone just like it was any other ordinary day of any other ordinary week.  Quietly being sixty.

Now May has become a bitter-sweet month for me.  Hard to believe it’s been a year since mom died.  A year tomorrow.  A YEAR!!  The older I get the more often I wonder where the time goes and why it flys.  I used to think the ‘year of mourning’ idea was ridiculous.  Setting up a mourning timetable, falling into an abyss of grief and taking so flaming long to work your way out of it.  Now I know it’s a necesary time of healing and the process really does take that long.  Maybe longer.  And it’s taken me personally this length of time to realize that it’s okay to return to an active joyous life without guilt.  This is the life my mother left me.  I want to do deeds that honor her soul and attest to her continuing influence in my life. 

So last night I spent alone at the tv eating hot dogs and watching movies.  *(serious serious eye rolling)*  I guess the good deeds are a work in progress.  I’m sure I’ll think of some soon.  I’ve purchased plane tickets for three grandchildren and a return trip for my daughter so that all of us can have an amazing summer camp holiday.  That should be a brownie point or two for grandma. 

Last year at this time W. went to Kenora and didn’t come back for five months.  His brother is doing very well now I think, and he had a lot to do with that happy outcome.  So this little home alone stretch should be a breeze in comparrison.  If I get too “bored of myself” (a lovely grandchild expression that makes me laugh out loud) I can always hop in my little Nissan Altima and take a road trip somewhere.  Or just go around the block a couple of times.  Or not go anywhere at all.  I could sit at home and make lists of things I should get done so that I can feel bad later that I haven’t gotten any of them done yet.  Mom was a great list maker and doer of things.  I’ve got the first half of that talent down pat. 

But before I do anything productive, I have about seven more bargain bin movies to watch.  It’s a home alone tradition.  Some traditions are sacred and should not be messed with.