English: A Westjet 737-700 coming in for a lan...

WestJet, you’ve done it again.  Whisked me from one side of the country to the other and back again, thousands of feet in the air.

Wish I could tell you it was magical.


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Weekend Trifecta Prompt:  Apostrophe – “A figure of speech in which some absent or nonexistent person or
thing is addressed as if present and capable of understanding.”  Give us your best 33-word example of an apostrophe.


The Hague Jazz 2009 - Rod McKuen

The Hague Jazz 2009 – Rod McKuen (Photo credit: Haags Uitburo)

Thank you Seeker for sharing this song, Homeward, by Rod McKuen with me in yesterdays comments about going home.  The lyrics are wonderful – but we would expect no less from such a great song writer and poet.

This morning I picked W up from the airport and lost count of the times he said “It’s good to be home.”

If you’re one of those people who can’t wait to get the hell away from home, this song will be a depressing one for you.  Sorry.  But if you’re a complete home-body like me, you will appreciate knowing that no matter where you go, you are always going home.  Or homeward bound.  Or about to be home alone.   Home, home, home sweet home.

Tomorrow I promise I will not talk about home again.  Even though it appears to be one of my favourite subjects of all time.

Sunday Morning, Praise the Dawning

My morning has been spent catching up on stuff.  I don’t feel like being any more specific than that because it’s Sunday morning and Sundays are made for being vague and brain-dead.  It’s a new rule I made up just now.  My best rules are spur of the moment nonsense meant to rationalize whatever I’m up to.  Or not up to.  So feel free to borrow them, break them, forget them, or adhere to them strictly.  I’m pretty open on that.

Yesterday morning I drove W to the airport (five o’clock in the morning…here am I…driving out to the airport, wishing I could fly….) (apologies to Leann Rimes and the song Blue). I have discovered that making up my own song lyrics is a great way to stay awake while driving.  But only when there’s no passengers involved in the creative process.

W is off to Ontario once again, this time on a rather sad mission, to wrap up his responsibilities for his brother who left this world quietly on January 3rd.   He fought the good fight, but it was a long and tiring one and I’m sad but thankful he was able to give it up at last. I truly believe he is in a better place now.

We were talking on the way out there about how you get to an age where the people you know and love start leaving this world on a rather regular basis.  I guess we’ve reached that age.  I don’t mean to sound callous or uncaring, but I remember whenever I talked to my mom and she’d rhyme off a list of all the people she knew who had passed away recently I’d get annoyed.  I suppose it’s a necessary evil of living so long yourself, but I found it an uncomfortable subject.  Maybe I need to get used to it.  The alternative I suppose is to not be around myself to witness these sad events.

So I’m on my own again for a couple of weeks, and the first thing I did to celebrate that was to blow up the microwave.  There is something about me and microwaves that defies compatibility.  I really thought this one was a keeper, but there you go.  It did last longer than its predecessors so that’s something.  Although not much to brag about I suppose.

There are still things to be grateful for, although having to buy yet another appliance of indeterminate life span is maybe not one of them.  The weather is mild, it is gently snowing, the house is warm and quiet.  My neighbor is shovelling our driveway.  How incredibly thoughtful and kind that is.  This insane cold bug I caught days and days ago seems to finally be loosening its grip on me.  I must say I will miss the sexy deep singing voice that came with it, but not the breathy nasal part or the part where I cough up my lungs between verses.

Here’s a Sunday morning song and a virtual drive in the snow.  I don’t really get the lyrics to this one, but then nobody really gets mine either.  So, watch out, the world’s behind you.  Maybe that means nothing at all.

Sunday morning
praise the dawning
It’s just a restless feeling by my side
Early dawning
Sunday morning
It’s just the wasted years so close behind
Watch out the world’s behind you
There’s always someone around you who will call
It’s nothing at all

Sunday morning
And I’m falling
I’ve got a feeling I don’t want to know
Early dawning
Sunday morning
It’s all the streets you crossed, not so long ago
Watch out the world’s behind you
There’s always someone around you who will call
It’s nothing at all

A is for Airports in the A.M.

Today I was at the airport around 5:15 a.m.  The reason that’s admirable and a bit astounding is that I’m not the one going away.  I foolishly mentioned yesterday that I could drive W out there and much to my dismay he accepted my offer and wouldn’t let me retract it.  Gawd.  Although we were going about 10 klicks over the posted speed limit, at least a dozen taxi cabs went flying past us on the half hour drive, so that when we got to the drop off at departures they were all stopped in every available stopping spot plus blocking traffic to exit the bloody place.  What a zoo.  His flight to Winnipeg was scheduled to leave at 6:30 a.m., so apparently it’s never too early to get the hell out of Edmonton.

W is off to northwestern Ontario for a week to visit his family.  I’m going to be flying out at the same gawdawful hour in the morning on the 3rd of April to visit mine, but that also includes making a connecting flight in Winnipeg and continuing on to London, Ontario.  He says he will drive me to the airport for that one.  He does owe me one.

I’ve got a doctor appointment to go to in an hour, and then work to show up for in four.  There didn’t seem to be much point in going back to bed.  It’s like getting extra hours in the day and having all kinds of time to make coffee and do some laundry and shower and make breakfast and play some intelligent well thought out moves in my scrabble games for a change when you get up this damned early.  Perhaps later on this afternoon when I fall asleep in the middle of a conversation I’ll be second guessing the decision to start my day so soon especially since I haven’t included a plan for a power nap in there somewhere.

My astrological forecast for today is definitely meant for someone who will be slightly less sleep deprived.

Talk about a great date night — with the right person, you can make an astounding connection that’s intellectual, emotional and physical all at once. If you don’t have the right person, you just might by night’s end.  

Operative word here being “might”.  Word not included but understood – NOT.  And the part about being intellectual is definitely a stretch.  If I’m still conscious later on I’ll come back to let you know how that panned out.  It’s going to be a looooooooooooong day.

Beam Me Up

Always liked the idea of beaming myself somewhere and skipping the wait at the airport or the long hours cooped up in a car. I know getting there is supposed to be half the fun, but sometimes it actually isn’t.

Wishing for something is one thing, having it as a real possibility is another thing entirely. Teleportation is a scary concept, so I’m sure I’ll be one of the skeptical people who holds back and waits to see how it goes for all those adventurous types before trying it out myself.

Chances are good that I’ll be a strong advocate for wormholes as a viable alternative, and a safer mode of transportation. Taking a speed-of-light shortcut through space and time while keeping the traveller intact has a certain appeal over being disassembled and put back together. Jumpgates, portals, stargates – could we please try those things first?

All in all, it sounds like a whole new way to lose your luggage, never mind the various molecules that might go missing en route to your destination. Missing fat molecules I could deal with, but the rest of my bits and pieces I’m not so sure I want to risk being without. Call me pathetically old-fashioned, but I’m kind of happy with my present continuity of existence.

I don’t want to arrive all messed up in some strange place being told to pull myself together and having no clue how to do that. So go ahead and beam yourself halfway across the planet, work out all the beaming kinks and hitches, and hopefully by the time teleportation is safely perfected I’ll be too damn old to care where I am or how I got there.

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If I Could Relive Any Day of My Life

Torn sunset.

It would be the day I went to see my parents who shared a room in a Care Centre and because I’m such an incredibly interesting person, they both fell asleep. It was time for me to go, and I decided not to wake them. I didn’t say goodbye. I just walked away and left them. I could have gone back the next morning before I left to drive to the airport, but I was rushed and I didn’t. Mom passed away a few days later.

I have always hated to say goodbye, but if I could go back and relive that day I would just suck it up and do it. I’d turn myself around and walk back to both of them and nudge them awake and say the things I should have said and not be such a blubbering sobbing mess all this time later just thinking about it.

Gawd. Maybe that’s not the greatest day to relive. Last Wednesday when I went to see Toy Story 3 with my nine-year-old granddaughter. That was a good day. I think I’ll opt for that one instead. Although I ended up crying at the end of the movie when Andy said good-bye to his toys, so maybe we could just skip that part. And maybe add some extra butter on the popcorn.