Normally I would be raising my hand for the not-leaving-the-house bit, but I was up before the alarm today. Good thing, because I forgot to set it. I’m getting rather good at driving to strange parts of the city to see specialists but parking stresses me out.
Patient parking in the lot was full, so I parked a couple of rows over in what might have been a place where one needs a permit, but it wasn’t marked reserved so I decided to tempt fate and abandon my car there and walk around to the other side of the building where I would not be able to see it and then proceed to obsess over all the possible outcomes of this decision. Towed away would be the worst. Hefty fine, nasty note, slashed tires. I hate my brain when it thinks up dumb things.
Incredible as it may sound to sane people, I was more worried about my car than about the results of my MRI. So the doctor telling me everything was fine and it’s just a small fatty benign tumour about which nothing needs to be done, was almost anticlimactic. I could not wait to get out of there.
And there my car was, just where I left it, unmolested and not the least bit traumatized.
Now I’m back home waiting for the dishwasher door repairman. Yesterday I saw my MD (have I mentioned how much I like her, despite the fact that she keeps finding stuff wrong with me?) and she was almost as thrilled as I am by the fact that I have dropped my weight by 20 pounds. Imagine what I could do if I actually put real effort in to this! But I know me, so I will just continue to monitor my blood sugar readings and not eat stupid things. If I make up more rules than that I know for sure I will break them.
Hope your week is going well and your car doesn’t get towed and you weren’t too offended by the F word up there. I don’t know why it makes me laugh. Maybe there’s a medical reason.
There are a lot of questions this week, so I’m going to attempt one word answers. This will be a first.
What is your favorite word? Coffee.
What is your least favorite word? Hate.
What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally? Art.
What turns you off? Stupidity.
What is your favorite curse word? Frack.
What sound or noise do you love? Rain.
What sound or noise do you hate? Rage.
What profession other than your own would you like to attempt? Psychic.
What profession would you not like to do? Executioner.
If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates? Greetings Earthling.
Welcome, and well done, you. Pick up your halo over there to your left. The souls you’ve been missing are waiting for you over here on our right. Debriefing in ten. Next assignment to be revealed when ever you’re ready. Should you choose to accept the new challenge, buses back to earth depart from the other side of the gates every thirty seconds.
You knew I couldn’t keep up the one word answer thing, didn’t you?
Bonus question: What are you grateful for from last week, and what are you looking forward to in the week coming up?
I am grateful for coffee, art and rain. We are having the most delightful winter weather! I never thought I would put winter and delightful in the same sentence, but there they are, twice. I have doctor appointments coming up (what else is new….they seem to never end) and possibly a Family Day Weekend visit to the great white north. Although even up there it is no doubt less white than they’re used to for February.
I am grateful this is a short month and spring is close. We have decided we will not have lawn care this summer because it is ridiculously expensive and the exercise will be good for me. (W goes east for most of the summer). He is going to visit his parents in March and bring back one of the lawnmowers from the cottage. There’s at least three of them there, maybe four. I don’t even care what the reasoning behind that might be.
Well, that’s gone a bit beyond next week. What will be will be. I predict I will now have another cup of coffee. This psychic stuff is easy.
I have one set of keys. Car, remote car starter, house and mailbox on two key chains hooked together. That’s it. I like to hang them up at the door so I will remember to never leave home without them.
All the rest of the keys and other hanging things belong to W. Except for my spare set of car keys, but he uses them and I never do, so they don’t count as being mine.
This is what our mess of keys looked like before I got all ambitious this weekend and made new key holders.
The bottom board is something I put together years ago when I first started painting. It is made from a drawer front, weighs a ton, and was hung up on one center nail. If you didn’t hang your keys just right it went off-balance and either hung crookedly or fell off the wall. Once it went down the basement steps. Funny how you put up with annoying things for a ridiculously long time and then one day just decide to do something about them.
My daughter has offered to paint our house interior, and although I was contemplating updating the guest room/library first, now I think we should start with the back door entrance. Taking these three junky things off the wall was a start. Putting up NEW junky things will probably get me in trouble.
W thinks it’s funny that there are so many hooks. So I asked him to identify all the important hanging things we’ve been looking at every day for a dog’s age if not longer. We have handcuff keys! No handcuffs anywhere, but we are prepared if they suddenly turn up. He used to be a wildlife enforcement officer, in case you’re thinking the handcuff thing might have a slightly more kinky explanation. There are several key chains with no keys on them, keys we believe might be for one of the filing cabinets, some which could be for padlocks, and several about which we do not have a flying clue.
One of these key holders will go in our garage sale, probably with miscellaneous mystery keys included. I only did the second one because the first one didn’t have room for everything. Keys are like plastic containers with no lids, or lids that don’t fit on anything. The day after you throw them out you discover you need them for something.
So they get to hang there for a while and I will tackle another junk corner somewhere else. In other exciting news, our dishwasher door has a broken spring and falls like a lead weight if we let it go, so we went searching for the appliance book to see if parts are still available for it and threw out a dozen booklets for things we no longer have. The dishwasher is 18 years old! Today is my son’s birthday and he is 40! Reverse those two statements in order of importance.
My point is, what is the point? Okay, I admit I don’t really have a point today. Except maybe to advise you to take stock of all your keys. Make the mystery ones into a decorative wall hanging. Give your grown children something to roll their eyes at. Then if anyone wants to know how you spent your weekend you can make them sorry they asked.
There’s no such thing as a slow news day in a small town. Not when you have long-term residents willing to tell you their story and dig up a couple of old photos to go with it.
This “news” article was published in the People section of the Port Elgin Beacon Times on July 28, 1999 when my dad was 85. There are a few mistakes in it, the funniest one being where they say our youngest sister is “Barbara” which isn’t even close to her real name. That’s okay, she likes to remain anonymous.
Dad was the 8th of 10 children, not 9, but his youngest brother died in a bicycle accident when he was just a boy. Maybe dad chose to skip over that part.
Hope you enjoy this little slice of history.
I lived here until I was 5 or 6 so my memories of it are vague. There was a hand pump in the kitchen for water, and we had baths in a big wash tub on the kitchen floor. The next farm-house we lived in had hot and cold running water and a bath tub upstairs. Now if people have fewer than four bathrooms in a house they are likely to complain. How times change.