. . . it was just starting to all go to shit. Seriously. Mum’s sister had just passed away and Mum was just about to return from Nova Scotia where she had been with the rest of her family during the last days. We were planning our trip to Cape Breton in October since it had been a LONG time since I had been down east. I was finally gonna see the fall colors of Cabot Trail. Then in June we got a call that mum’s brother, Carmie, was in the hospital. So we moved our trip up. Jenge and I each juggled to see if both of us could go. In the end, Jenge couldn’t leave work, but it was actually a good time for me. Ann, Mum and I were off to Cape Breton. Then we got the call that Carmie had died. Then Darren, my bro-in-law, got in a car accident and Ann had to cancel. Mum and I went to the funeral down east. Then Jenge called, Dad was sick and in the hospital again. We came home, Dad got out of the hospital. Then Dad went back in the hospital. Then Dad died. And that was that.

You hear alot of platitudes during a time like that. Everything happens for a reason, time heals all, it was his/her/their time. Everyone means well. Everyone wants to be able to say something to you that will make you feel better. And you lie and tell them that they are right, and that their words help, that what they say is true. But really, it’s all kinda bullshit, isn’t it? I mean we’ve all been through muck and was there ever anything that anyone said to you that made you feel better about it? Prolly not. But we all keep on keepin on.

Gang, I gotta pile of stuff to work on and I’m not gettin’ any of it done. It’s time for a list!!

1. Go to home depot and get that waterproofy tape stuff as my shower head sprays water all over while I’m in there. Place is soaked by the time I get out, and I only take about 8 minutes in there!
2. Paint downstairs bathroom. This one has been on the burner since before Dad died. Naturally, I got sidetracked at that point and kinda forgot about it but now it’s back on the menu!
3. Call 1-800 Got Junk and clean out the house. Seriously, how is it I own half this stuff??
4. Work on my book! Ashleigh has been sending me her installments and I’ve been lax in sending her my stuff as I decided to change my plot (why I waited till page 204 to do this is a mystery but there you have it!)
5. Put laundry away. This one should be a no-brainer and yet there it sits. All clean and in the basket.
6. Get some work done – I’m at home today and the work is in my car. Must get it out and get to it. I have responded to some emails but must get serious!!
7. Clean kitchen. Sigh. Kitchen. Things are desperate down there.
8. Call Sears about cleaning vents.
9. Figure out what parts I need to do maitenance on house humidifier
10. Call Shaw and order greek channel! Wait, I have the bill right here, I can call right now!!

I’ll let you know how it all turns out!

Life with Rocky
People who haven’t met Rocky don’t understand Rocky. What makes him bark? He can’t possibly bark as much as you say. He can’t be that high strung. You’re making it up!!

Press Play, if you dare.

So the other day, I was driving down Macleod Trail. I was way up by Avenida, you know – where the speedlimit is 80km/h. And this joker in front of me was doing 50 (FIFTY!! OMG!! – so annoying!) . So I was FINALLY able to find a gap in the fast moving traffic and pass them. As I did, I noticed a sign on their back passenger window that said “Jesus Saved Me” and I kid you not my immediate first thought was, “Oh yeah, well too bad he didn’t teach you to DRIVE!! Moron!”

True story.

Simple Life

One of Portia’s favourite things to do is lie down on my bed and look out the window. I keep my curtians closed most of the time when I’m at home for the simple fact that I don’t want the neighbors to see me in my house clothes (read: ratty old shorts and a tank top) but in the morning, before I go to work, I crank the curtains open for Portia. She loves it so much, that even if she is downstairs, once she hears the curtains she comes barrelling upstairs immediately. Then she carefully lies down with her front paws on my pillows, and rests her chin down, usually sticking her face through one of the openings in my iron headboard. And she starts watching. Her eyes flicker here and there, their attention being caught by a tree blowing in the wind, or a car on the way to work. I think she spends most of her day up there (judging by the amount of dog fur I find on my bed). And sometimes, when I come home, as I enter the laundry room, I hear a frantic scrambling and thumping as she launches herself off my bed and comes crashing downstairs to say hi to me. But once the hellos are over, it’s back upstairs to the bed and the scenic view it offers.

I’ve got a bee in my bonnet!
So, Jenge has been given the task by our Greek teacher of emailing students who are missing and telling them the homework. However, Jenge is extremely busy this month with swimming lessons at the school, the drama production and her own greek homework and last week, she missed a student. When said student showed up at Greek class and didn’t have her homework done, she said it was because she didn’t get an email from Jenge. And the teacher said that Jenge had to make extra sure she emailed everyone.

What?

Are you frakking kidding me? Those who are in the class KNOW that on an average week, we cover 4 pages in class. So if you miss, do the next 4 pages! If I miss, I dont’ even ask Jenge or Ann what I missed, I just work ahead. So far, no troubles. Why? because I am a (semi) intelligent adult and realize that if I miss class, I’m responsible for ME!

And if YOU are missing class isn’t it YOUR responsibility to find out what the homework was? Or work ahead? Are you telling me that you are 30-something years old and if someone doesn’t email you to tell you EXACTLY what to do, you can’t figure it out?? To me this is symptomatic of people not taking responsibility for themselves. Give me a break!!

On the mend!

So, as some of you may know, I was felled by an extreme allergic reaction to some antibiotics starting about this time last week. I’m happy to report that I’m on the mend! Instead of looking like some mutant extra in a bad horror film on communicable diseases, I can now be looked at without small children screaming in horror. Oh, it was bad, mes amis! So bad! Even Jenge didn’t want to look at me! I felt like my body had betrayed me! How could it mistake antibiotics that were helping us with some foreign invader sent to destroy us? And why did it wait until the second last dose to freak out? Who knows.

And if you see me out and about – try not to look at my feet or legs – they are still recovering.