Sharing My World 91

Share Your World August 31, 2020

Share Your World Meets Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Roger’s Magical, Mystical Questions

Many local regions, especially rural areas where I live, have haunted houses. Have you ever spent the night in a house that was supposedly haunted? Anything ‘strange” happen?

Once in the farmhouse where I grew up we were all present and accounted for at the kitchen table eating dinner when we heard someone coming down the back stairs. I remember saying, did you hear that? Who was that? and looking at the doorway to see who would show up. But nobody did, because we were all there already. Someone said it was just the house creaking. But I know what I heard. I guess whoever it was quietly left by the back door and never came back because that’s the only truly spooky thing I remember happening in that house.

There were a lot of odd sounds in this house when we first moved here. I believe the original owner died so the house was sold. And then the next owner died and that’s when we bought it. I dont think either of them died in the house, but I wondered if one or the other might still be hanging around. Because I sometimes wonder weird shit like that. I may have mentioned in passing that our new house could be haunted, but no one else heard things being moved about in the basement or footsteps in another room. After a few weeks I guess I got used to the different house noises because I didn’t notice them anymore. Or the ghosts were bored silly and left. I’m open to either explanation

The Quidditch Cup (riding broomsticks while chasing a small ball) was a huge sporting event in the land of Hogwarts. What is the largest sporting event (or concert, etc.) that you have ever attended?

I went to a Blue Jays baseball game in Toronto! Can’t remember when it was or who they played! That place was HUGE! So happy to share this vivid memory with you all.

When you go for a swim, do you prefer an ocean, the seaside lakes, or a pool?

I prefer NOT going for a swim anywhere, thanks. The ocean would be my very last choice. The shallow end of a pool or a sandy beach where I could wade in up to my knees might be tolerable.

Ron Weasley received a horrid robe to wear as formal wear to the Christmas dance at Hogwarts. Tell about the most ‘ghastly’ fashion statement that you have ever made.

Oh dear, so many choices. But you never know they’re ghastly until the photos surface ten years later, do you?

I used to wear crocs to work. Ghastly fashion choice all on its own, but those things were SO comfy. I was getting out of the car at home after work one night and noticed that one of the crocs I was wearing was navy blue and the other one was black. All day I walked around like that and no one told me.

Muggle Questions (from Melanie):

What is the last song you sang along to?

Honestly can’t remember, other than it would have been something from the sixties to which I knew ALL the words. I sing along in my head only now. Sounds much better that way.

What was your scariest nightmare about?

A big black dog growling at me and ready to bite. I was maybe 5 or younger and terrified enough to scream in the middle of the night for my dad to save me. He told me to roll over in the other direction, go back to sleep, and the dog would go away. Smartest bravest dad ever.

What food do you crave most often?

A big bowl of hot delicious homemade soup. My instant pot makes 5 or 6 servings, so I make soup every 5 or 6 days I guess. It’s a very creative endeavour with lots of experimenting and mostly great results. Perfect way to consume lots of vegetables.

And now for the truth. I crave CHIPS. I make myself eat soup first though.

What’s your grossest bug story?

I don’t know if anyone remembers spirals of sticky fly paper hanging from the ceiling with sad buzzing half dead flies on them. There were always so many flies on the farm mom had to do something to keep them under control in the kitchen. That doesn’t explain why she hung one of those things at the bottom of the stairs where a normal person would see and avoid it but a kid in a hurry could come thundering down the steps and run right smack into it and get it all tangled up in her hair. Never been so grossed out in my life.

And that’s my world sharing all caught up until next week. I’m calling it caught up even though I’ve missed over six months worth of prompts and skipped number 89 in my own series.

I blame childhood trauma.

Sharing My World 90

Share Your World 8-24-2020

Share Your World Meets Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban

One of my favorite gifts that Harry Potter received came from the Weasley Twins; and was “Mrs. Mooney’s Marauder’s Map”. This magical document showed every classroom, hallway and secret corner in all of Hogwarts. It also showed you the location- by name- of every person in Hogwarts. If you had such a magical map of your town, what would you use it for? If you would not use it, is there another person to whom you would gift it?

Nope, I would never use it. I have enough going on keeping track of myself and my own movements and my reasons for them. I would gift it to W though and he’d say what the hell do I need this thing for (ever the gracious gift recipient) and then proceed to study it for hours and hours and ignore me completely.

When was the last time you made a snowball? Were in a snowball fight?

It was the winter of 1957 on a cold and dreary afternoon after my brother had finished his snow fort and stockpiled ammunition and then lured me outside to kill me. God we had some good times. This memory is not crystal clear of course, and he is no longer around to consult about the details, but I probably fought back with no enthusiasm whatsoever until getting hit in the face and stomping off to tell on him. Not surprisingly, snowball fights don’t immediately make me think of fun.

Many cultures set great value in each child of the family having godparents. Did you have godparents? Are you a godparent yourself?

We never called them godparents but we knew that my moms youngest sister and her husband were named as guardians for us if our parents died. That would have made a family of 8 kids, so as much as I loved them all, I’m thankful it never happened.

We had good friends when we lived in Yellowknife who asked us to be godparents to their youngest son. We were flattered and said yes and then didn’t have a clue what was expected of us in that role and did pretty much nothing. They may have regretted their choice and eventually picked someone else but were too nice to mention it.

You have found a secret tunnel under your house. Where does it go?

I’ll never know because I don’t do tunnels. They are underground and dangerous and can collapse without warning. I did a touristy tour of a mine shaft once by accident. It was a rush decision because it was the last tour before they closed and I agreed to it without thinking. That won’t happen again unless I’m on some really excellent drugs.

Muggle Questions (of a more philosophical bent this week):

Is intelligence or wisdom more useful?

Definitely intelligence. You’ll never get to true wisdom without it.

How important is play in living a healthy and fulfilling life?

It’s absolutely essential. “All work and no play makes Jack a boring jerk” or however that old saying goes.

Is happiness just chemicals flowing through your brain or something more?

I have no idea what happiness is in scientific terms. It’s different things for different people because everyone creates their own. Aim for contentment, gratitude and kindness. After that, happiness can’t be far behind.

Patchwork Gardening

Early on when the fruit was tiny and gorgeously green.

People are doing all sorts of industrious and ambitious things these days waiting for this viral threat to subside. Or they’re binge watching Netflix in a stupor. I don’t judge. There is nothing special or unique about growing a garden while you’re stuck at home with time on your hands. ME doing it is a bit special though.

I’m not proud of the fact that plants in my care often die from neglect. It’s nothing personal, I don’t kill them on purpose. Pulling weeds and watering things is very low on my list of priorities. Might not be there at all if I’m honest. In a perfect world vegetable gardens would spring up on their own and take care of themselves until harvest time. Like rhubarb. I have never killed rhubarb.

We had our garden plot done over with grass years ago when it started producing giant thistles. This spring our son used his rototiller behind our garage, on the flowerbed under our front window where dogwood grew wild (another plant that grows totally on its own) and widened the flowerbed along the back of the house. The other narrow raised bricked-in north facing flowerbed at the front gets little sunshine and even less rain because of the roof overhang. It’s also an awkward distance from the garden hose which is a pain in the ass with things close to it as well, as far as I’m concerned. No green thumbs on me baby. We’ve discovered it’s a perfect place for yellow beans and have harvested enough of them now to put some in the freezer! Tiger lilies thrive there too. Weird combination, but these are weird times.

There is one exception in my generally garden loathing bones. I can grow tomatoes. I asked W in the spring to pick up three small tomato plants for me, preferably a variety of different kinds, and he came home with a flat of six healthy little Romas. He had already planted yellow beans, radishes, onions, zucchini, cucumbers and lettuce here, there and everywhere, leaving a lovely little space for me big enough for 2 tomato plants. It’s like he didn’t want me to succeed or something. No problem, I like to have excuses. I put three plants there, (and he promptly planted carrots in front of them), two in front of our little volunteer pine tree, and one in a pot. Then I had to put the pine tree plants in pots as well after reading that tomatoes and pine trees fight for the same nutrients. Every plant got tomato spike fertilizer and tomato cages and lots of sunshine. And away they went.

The plants grew tall, probably because they’re crowded together, and are loaded with little tomatoes to the point where W is sure the branches will break with their weight. He likes to pick things before they’re ripe and lies awake at night dreaming up reasons to do that. I made that last bit up. I really have no idea why it drives him nuts to let a tomato fully ripen on the vine.

This is what we picked yesterday. There are also a bunch doing their final ripening in a cupboard drawer. W has distributed tomatoes in the neighborhood and I’ve put some in the freezer. We are expecting our daughter to come over for more, and our son wants a bunch for soup and sauces I think. I’ve consumed a LOT of the grape sized ones in various ways, including snacks just as they are because they’re delicious, so I’m doing my part, and we have tomatoes with every meal. And it’s time to pick them again. Still lots of green ones. If we’re lucky they could keep coming through September. Always have to watch for frost here though because our growing season is shorter than more southerly spots.

Now I’m wondering if southerly is a real word. But I promised not to go off on tangents so look it up yourself while I slowly die an acidic death from fresh tomato overdose. I’m not looking that up either but it sounds like an interesting way to go.

Here We Are

Add title! Start writing!

That’s what this new WP block editor is telling me to do, except without the exclamation points, which seriously they should think about adding for people like me who seem to need more than the normal amount of encouragement. It’s not like I haven’t thought about writing. I’m always thinking about writing. In fact, earlier this year I thought about it so hard I actually sat down and did it with this astounding result.

Since my last attempt to say something vaguely intelligent for posterity was in mid January, and it is now finally May, I’ve decided to pretend the last one hundred and six odd days were ALL just one big extended January because that’s what it felt like. Now that the sun is shining and the days are longer and the grass is green I believe I can let my January mood go at last. So tell me, what’s the new normal like for you? The whole world has seen so many changes, and post pandemic it will keep on changing because that’s what worlds do. We might as well embrace this new reality. The old one was so “January” after all.

I guess all that reality embracing stopped me from going on with whatever I was about to say next and then it got me through another three months of writerly procrastination as this blurb sat in draft purgatory. Don’t ask me to explain that explanation because I don’t think I can. And suddenly here we are in almost September.

I have been more or less home bound since…I don’t know…mid March? My kids joke that my life during this pandemic has been eerily similar to the pre-pandemic one. I like my house and can go days and days without coming across a really good reason for leaving it. Like running out of coffee cream. That one gets me off the couch. Mostly I’m relaxed and happy, if you cut out the COVID worry. And maybe my Twitter likes.

W didn’t go east this summer because of the travel restrictions and the quarantine guidelines and a healthy fear of getting sick. It’s been harder on him, all this staying home. Introverts like me just accept isolation. Prefer it over crowds and noise and gawd awful things like shopping. There was a new rule early on about one person/one grocery cart, and one shopper per household. W gladly grabbed that role just to get out of here. He also does lots of over the fence visiting with neighbours in three directions, plus the ones across the street and also down the street in both directions now that I think about it. People walking their dogs probably avoid our street altogether so he can’t start a socially distanced yelling conversation with them. Anyway I’ve appreciated all the grocery shopping and grass cutting and gardening he’s done. I could live without all the info about what everybody around us is up to, but it seems to be important to him to share it with me so it must be equally important for me to pretend to listen.

And that’s the bare bones of our existence to date. Next up I will choose one topic and supply relevant details with less rambling. As pigs fly. We are so incredibly blessed to have our immediate family close and healthy and concerned. I can’t tell their stories because they’re not mine to tell and I’d never get them right anyway. Once again it’s all about me, and boring or not there’s no point in caring. My therapy, my blathering drivel. Here we are.

The other night I woke up from a dream telling some random dream person to “put an axe and a sock in it and then we’ll talk”. Then I lay awake for a long time wondering what the hell that meant. So, you know, have low expectations is all I’m hinting at here. I’m older and even more confused now than I was last January. It can only get more weird.

Canada is Cool

How cool is it?

It’s SO cool the following things have been reported on social media:

– Some guy was seen cleaning the snow off his windshield with a hockey stick.

– Some other guy was seen shovelling snow off his sidewalk with a lawn chair.

No fried brains here. Just frozen ones.

In other cold related news, the Calgary Zoo had to cancel their penguin walk yesterday, because king penguins get stressed out in extreme temperatures. Well, don’t we all.

The sun was shining at our house today, but the air is bitterly cold. Like -35 to -40 C depending on where you are and how much wind there is and what snowbank you’re trying to get your vehicle out of. This is when the snow gets crunchy and squeaky and hard as rock if you let it get packed.

Better temperatures are on the way though, so we can slowly thaw out next week.

We are almost at the halfway mark for January!

Look how happy I am about that.

Sharing My World 88

Share Your World January 13, 2020

What’s something your brain tries to make you do, which you have to will yourself NOT to do?  (could be a bad habit, a physical response to something…your interpretation is as good as mine! )

My brain tries to make me fall asleep while I’m reading. That’s because I’m in bed and relaxed and comfy and warm, it’s probably late and I’m no doubt tired. You can see why my brain gets confused. It gently nudges me to slow my breathing as it closes my eyes, while it continues on with the narrative which I am no longer reading because I can’t see it. In other words, it starts making shit up. I think it is hoping I won’t notice and will just drift off into oblivion. It’s not skilled at believability unfortunately, and if things get too wonky and weird I wake up with a start, because whatever strange turn the story has taken, even my brain has to admit that can’t be right. So I have to will myself to focus and backtrack a few lines so I can find out what really happened.

Having a confrontation with my own brain is something I’ve honestly never thought about before. I wonder if I ask it nicely if it would stop telling my hands to release their grip on my kindle at the same time as all this other stuff is happening. Because getting clunked in the face while falling asleep is counterproductive.

When someone finds out what you do, or where you are from, what question do they always ask you?

They normally just stifle a yawn and change the subject. I’m from eastern Canada, now living in western Canada, and I’m retired. See? You’re already looking ahead to the next question.

What’s something terrifying that we’ve all come to accept as a fact of life?

Corruption fueled by greed. The good guys play by the rules and the bad guys don’t.

Should governments make laws to protect people from harming themselves?  Could that even work?  (yes this one is deep, maybe too deep).

Isn’t that what they do already? There are all kinds of laws supposed to keep us from harming each other. How’s that working out for all of us? Gah, don’t get me started on politics and the state of the world. Ignorance (of the willful kind) and stupidity are rampant. Make a law against that.

Gratitude is an Attitude…
Please share your gratitude for this past week in the form of a photo, a quote or a thought.   🙂

“Paradoxical as it may seem, the purposeful life has no content, no point. It hurries on and on, and misses everything. It is only when there is no goal and no rush that the human senses are fully open to receive the world.”

— Alan Watts

This struck such a raw nerve with me, the purposeful life hurrying on and on, missing everything. I remember one long ago morning rushing around getting ready for work thinking it was all so pointless. Showering, getting dressed, fixing my hair, putting on makeup, grabbing something to eat, backing out of the driveway, being mad at moron drivers, dealing with idiots all day and coming home exhausted. Tomorrow I’d have to get out of bed and do everything all over again, and then the day after that and the day after that and on and on until death set me free. It was pretty depressing and I’ve never forgotten the feeling. But I’ve also never experienced it again to that depth of despair. I’m grateful for that.

Tiny poll:   I’m curious what type of questions YOU, the reader, would like to see more of?   Less of?   Has SYW gotten too philosophical and less fun in nature?

Life is as depressing or as fun as you choose to make it, regardless of what bits of your world you’re prompted to share. I think the questions are a nice mix of silly and serious.

Sharing My World 87

Share Your World January 6, 2020


Is ‘hello” enough for you these days?  (credit to Rory – )

If it includes eye contact and a genuine smile, it’s good enough for me. However, if it also includes asking me if I’m over 55, and acting surprised when I claim to be 15 years beyond that, even better. And then telling me I qualify for a seniors discount, simply for being old – wow! This happened to me. I wasn’t even wearing makeup and my hair was still damp and a tad wild from my shower. Normally I dont leave the house looking like that, but maybe I should try it more often.

Do you believe in Murphy?   For those who aren’t familiar with Murphy, here’s a wee explanation:  Murphy’s law is an adage or epigram that is typically stated as: “Anything that can go wrong will go wrong”.

Yes, I am a faithful follower of all things Murphy. That way, when things go right, it’s a mini celebration.

Does evil come from within?  If so, why?

Within, without, above, below and maybe even sideways, you just never know. I used to believe we weren’t born with it, but the nicest people can end up with the wildest houligans. One thing I know for sure, hate being the greatest evil, it can spread like wildfire.

Are intelligent people more or less happy than others?   What defines intelligence?

Not sure intelligence has much to do with happiness. I’ve met some pretty stupid people who aren’t at all sad about it.  Intelligence is the ability to learn, understand, and reason.  And then not act like a moron.  Unless that’s what makes you happy.  I try not to judge.


Gratitude Section

Please feel free to share a quote, photo or thought about gratitude.

Hmmm, what am I grateful for today.  Not the big snow dump we got overnight, or the drop in temperature, but because of both those things I’m grateful for a spouse who delights in snow blowing.  The house is warm, the sun is shining, the days are getting longer, the grocery shopping was done just before the weather got crappy, and I have chocolate ovaltine in the cupboard.  Sorry to the people who gagged about that last one.

I also talked to my sister this morning and have started another crochet project, this time for my daughter-in-law.  Those things aren’t exactly related, it’s just how my intelligent mind works, stating random things out of the blue and being annoyingly happy about weird stuff.

Life is good.  January is long.  Time to stop talking. Until next time.


W has been following the 2020 World Junior Hockey tournament since it began in December, but had a movie playing on tv this afternoon instead of tuning in to the Canada vs Russia gold medal game. I asked him why. He said “I can’t watch it.”

I know the feeling. Too stressful even if the outcome hardly affects you personally.

I was totally prepared to celebrate a silver medal victory, especially since Russia had already trounced Canada 6-0 in their first game. Didn’t look good when they were down 3-0 starting the 3rd period. But Canada came back to win it 4-3. So now we can all scream and yell and hoot and holler and generally freak out about how amazing Canada is at hockey. Which we would still have been with a silver medal, but nobody goes batshit crazy over second place. Congrats to the Russian players anyway. They certainly deserved to be there.

Isn’t hockeyeur a great word? It came up on my predictive text. No idea why my predictive thinks I might suddenly decide to express myself in a different language. English is a big enough challenge. The word means hockey player.

hockeyeur (nom) féminin hockeyeuse

Joueur de hockey sur gazon ou sur glace, un sport qui consiste à faireentrer un palet dans un but avec une crosse.

(Player of hockey on field or ice, game consists of shooting a puck/ball into a net with a stick).  Makes the sport sound rather dull.

Anyway, lovely for Canadians to get some happy news and something to cheer about. There’s been a bit of a drought for that kind of thing lately, knowing crazy things happening in the world will no doubt have global consequences and repercussions. We are all part of the globe.

How do you like cartoon (Bitmoji) me up there? Like I might actually be able to skate fast enough to shoot ice into the atmosphere when coming to an abrupt stop. And not wearing a helmet! And smiling while wearing skates! Quite the fantasy. But cute. Cuteness is a big plus.


Fridge Art

You are never too old to adorn your grandma’s fridge with priceless art.

Not sure what’s up with that horse in a dust storm. I didn’t ask.

Whoever Carla is, poor girl needs some serious dental work.

I love the creations done by keeping your pencil on the paper until your main picture is complete.

And Madison doesn’t look like that at all in real life. Unless there’s some secret transformation I’m missing.

This is my new fridge, by the way. Never had a door handle this long before. Lots more area to wipe for sticky finger and hand prints. First time I’ve had a bottom freezer too. So far, big thumbs up.

Another January Day

I know what our next door neighbour did yesterday – pranced around on his front lawn in a t-shirt.  Okay, he wasn’t actually prancing.  More like zipping out to his car for something and then taking his sweet time going back inside because it was relatively sunny and warm here on the first day of the new year.  And by warm I mean around the freezing mark.

Sorry that’s all I’ve got on him.  Just happened to see him briefly from my front window and have no idea how he spent the rest of his day.  Here in the late afternoon we were feasting on an awesome vegetarian lasagna made by my son.  We didn’t have the whole gang because life and work and other priorities take people in different directions.  I’m always happy to see whoever drops in.  Especially when they bring food.

This morning the wind woke me up early and has been blustering away all day, blowing snow off the roof tops and the trees and depositing it in our driveway.  No t-shirts noted anywhere on the block.  Colder weather is forecast for next week.  I wish we could send some of it (minus the wind) to Australia.  Along with a ton of rain.  I fear the devastating disasters in store for all of us if we don’t take the climate crisis seriously.

But I won’t get myself started on that tonight.  I’ll tell you what I’m happy about instead.

– all the Christmas leftovers are gone

– except for some fudge and butter tarts, and W is taking care of those

– all the decorations are boxed up and put away

– except for the outdoor lights, but W is taking care of those too, probably by February at the very latest

– we have had our youngest three grandchildren around sporadically for almost two weeks.  We find them interesting and they find us boring, and that’s how these relationships usually work with the very young and the very old.  I suppose we could try to be less boring.  There’s a thought.

– I love quiet evenings inside where it’s warm, a hot drink before bed, reading until the kindle falls out of my hand and I can’t keep my eyes open.  Simple pleasures.  I’ve already said boring, no reason to repeat it.

This month always seems to go relentlessly on and on until you swear it’s never going to end.  Sort of like a pregnancy in the ninth month.  My doctor told me she’d never heard of a pregnancy that didn’t terminate (how reassuring) and I guess that applies to Januaries as well.

Two days down, eleventy seven to go.