Deep Subjects

Wishing well at the castle of Zumelle, Belluno...

Wishing well at the castle of Zumelle, Belluno, Veneto, Italy. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Well……

It appears I’ve taken an unplanned, unannounced and ridiculously long break.  Long for me, anyway, because of this blog-a-day thing with which I like to torture myself.

I have many teeth stories that even I’m sick of hearing, so I’ll just say I now have a mouthful of them thanks to a small permanent bridge filling up a space that’s been empty for years.  Yay for one less empty space in my head.  And only one more trip to the dentist, and then he can go off on an extended vacation once my bill is paid.

Yesterday was seniors day at Shoppers Drug Mart and the cashier didn’t even ask me for ID to prove I’m over 55.  Seriously.  Even though I’m well over that and have an honest face, she still could have made my day by doubting me.  Whatever, the discount was nice.  Getting to be ancient has it’s perks.

Not so perky is the hearing loss where I misunderstand people who mumble in a quiet and irritating manner, saying things like “seduced LSD is a sin” when they actually mean “reduced elasticity in the skin”.  Come on people, either speak up or I’ll have to go see an audiologist.

And speaking of ‘seeing’, yesterday I misread the question “What makes a great teacher?” as “What makes a goat tender?”  That was on my phone where the printing is small.  Could have happened to anyone, right? And means practically the same thing.  My life has become infinitesimally more interesting lately.  No wonder old people wander around looking dazed and confused.

At work I continue to be a geezer magnet.  Eighty year old men love me.  A ten minute glasses dispensing job turns into a half hour gab session as they tell me their life stories.  A delightful man told me all about his triple bypass surgery, and how he had to stay in the hospital an extra three days due to constipation.

Another explained how doctors removed four litres of fluid from his asbestos inflamed lungs, and now his feet swell up all the time.  I did not ask how those two facts are related.

Did you know that a box of ammunition for a 22 rifle used to cost twenty five cents, and that an 11 year old way back in the day picking off gophers could become a sharp shooter really fast? Neither did I.

Canada is the absolute best place in the world to live and in Texas you can shoot an intruder and then just call somebody to come pick up the body.  I could think of no reply to that double barrelled  bit of information, but I think perhaps one or both of those statements may not be entirely true.

Well, who knows.  Maybe I didn’t hear him right.   Because, you know, think about the winters here.

It’s been another beautiful fall day.  I went for a hair cut and didn’t cry.  W brought home Chinese take out.  I was able to chew stuff.

Life is good.

Once Upon a Time, Twenty Years Ago….

Today I am suffering from a serious lack of ambition.  It’s a cold and rainy day.  I’ve been to see my doctor, and I’ve shopped for yoga pants. I ate lunch.  I drank some coffee.

I’ve flipped through some photo albums to see if anything would scream “pick me!” for one of the photo challenges, and this is what I came up with.  It didn’t make a sound and it doesn’t go with anything.  But I thought all the individual stunned expressions were kind of interesting so I’m sharing it.  Plus now I get to sit down at the computer and pretend I’m doing important and amazing writing related historical family memoir type incredibleness.  Feel free to add your own big words here.


Making a wild guess I’d say this was taken in 1992.  My handsome son, yours truly wearing some kind of bizarre cowboy inspired shirt, my beautiful daughter, and W, needing a haircut. Or more sleep.  Ugliest couch in the universe.  Picture courtesy of W’s parents who could make posing for a picture into a face breaking kind of torture, where you’re all sitting there gritting your teeth thinking ‘just press the button, for the love of God.”

And of course there was no little digital screen to look at immediately – you had to wait and take your chances, hoping if you looked a complete mess the photographer would have the decency to destroy the evidence.

As we all know, that rarely happened.  But the good news is, the older you get, the better you think you looked way back when.  So you just have to say to yourself, wow – compared to a ninety-six year old, I look pretty hot!

That’s what I did.  I don’t think I’ll get any arguments.