Oatmeal and Other Breakfast Foods

I’m out of bread so I am eating oatmeal with my coffee this morning. I ought to be eating oatmeal every day anyway because it is healthier and more filling. But I can’t type with one hand as I eat it and there is apparently more chewing involved than you realize with oatmeal. I don’t mind the taste of maple and brown sugar oatmeal even though it doesn’t really seem to be sweet but this instant stuff is supposed to be laced with salt which I shouldn’t be eating. Hmmm. I’ve tried the regular stuff and it tastes like wallpaper paste. The worst was the calorie-wise oatmeal. That was like eating cardboard. I suspect it was cardboard, not real food. There’s only so much I will do for this body of mine before I say, give me some sugar. NOW.

I also like yogurt, with or without fruit and granola. Again, I need a spoon to eat it so not handy in the mornings as I blog or read my book. (by the way, my oatmeal is getting cold as I type away). There are a million excuses for not eating healthy and I can find them. My readers will be disappointed if I don’t blog. (all 6 of them).

There’s scrambled eggs which used to be a real favourite of mine. But I’ve eaten so much scrambled egg that I am not terribly fond of them anymore. I make really good eggs, with milk, a pinch of salt and the whole egg. This egg white solution, again, what’s the point? The yolk has protein. It has COLOUR. It’s also real. I used to have chickens and at first I was really shocked by the deep yellow yolks my free range hens gave me but now I miss them. My eggs were also nearly double the size of store bought eggs. In retirement I plan to raise them up again but on a small scale. No more 50 chickens running around waiting to get slaughtered by the neighbours’ wild dogs. I digress.

I like my continental breakfast at 4 a.m. It is modest and just enough for a tender stomach to digest so early in the morning. It’s civilized. Hearty breakfasts are for later, like 10’ish. Many years ago I read a very sensual book and the heroine’s mother was a very sexy lady. She would sit at the breakfast table in France and eat an orange for her breakfast. That was all she ate, and the author made a big point of this breakfast. I only recollected the story last week as I sat in my sunroom eating my toast and looking at all my leftover fruits from the BBQ. Yes, I looked at it. Today the fruits are molding and I ask myself why I do this to myself every time. I buy fruit but I don’t eat it. Why, why, why? I actually like grapes, cherries, plums and nectarines. Why don’t I eat more of them when they are there, fresh and delicious? I’m lazy even to chew? Give me a break, Sanne. You complain about people being lazy flicking their fingers to signal on the highway and yet you are too lazy to bite into a fruit and maybe have to wash your hands of the juice? Shame on me.

Melting Pot

I wish I could say that I have a melting pot of ideas brewing this morning but it is the exact opposite. I have a few thoughts here and there but all are inappropriate for family viewing, so to speak. I’m sitting here with my hair all on end, nibbling my cheese toast and sipping a good cup of coffee and trying to come up with something funny. Nadda, zip, zero.

Well, actually there is something which I have been observing at work over the last few months. I’ve been noticing it more frequently lately and that is the fact that whenever Canada writes a story for our news page the next day we get a story from Houston. There is a real rivalry going on (in my mind anyway) between Canada and the USA on our information page. I have to laugh every morning when I see a new story as I feel as though both countries are waving their hands to the mothership saying “look at me, look at me, look what I’m doing, aren’t I great”.

Just generally speaking (nothing to do with our company) Canadians will always be the poor cousin to the Americans. We Canadians are so meek and mild and so terribly polite that we will never shove ourselves in front of the bus, so to speak. Americans still have this notion that all of Canada is covered with snow. I’ve noticed in the last few years that a lot of the American shows will reference Canada (as though we’ve suddenly come on their radar) and they are mostly disparaging comments. Law and Order, for instance, always seems to have some criminal element coming out of Canada. NCIS had a character go to Saskatchewan for a vacation and that became the butt of derisive remarks. I think this attack on Canada comes from the 9/11 accusations that Canada has been lax in letting criminals get into the USA. Hmmm, seems to me that it’s the Americans who are on the border as You Go In to the States. How can that be our fault? (yes, I know the rest of the story, but still????)

Americans always want to be first, they always want to be the greatest, they sure don’t understand modesty. They know everything about everything, so much so that their Hollywood movie stars can come up here to our pristine mountains and while they are vacationing they can tell us what to do about our environment. Excuse me, you are a guest in our country, don’t you think it’s a bit rude to tell us what we are doing wrong? Oh that’s right, we are Canadians, we marry our cousins and therefore we are dumber than donkeys. No need to use manners “up here”. Really?

Lest anyone admonition me for using a sweeping brush to paint all Americans with the same colour, let me acknowledge that not all Americans are ignorant and rude. But there are an awful lot of them that are, and they are kind of annoying. I’m Canadian and I’m proud of my country. When I go to Europe, South America or Cuba I get “We love Canadians” a lot. I’m pretty sure that Americans don’t get that comment. I’m pretty sure Canada is the best country in the world – yep. I’m sure.

Hearing and Listening

Have you noticed how few people actually listen to what you are saying? In a social group when you are mingling people are buzzing and talking fit to beat the band but how much is actually being listened to. Certainly it is heard, that’s why I can say that there is buzzing. But there is a big difference between being heard and being listened to, the one is just hearing words without appreciating what is actually being said. Listening is hearing the words, comprehending and taking in the intent of the message.

Listening is an art because most people are more interested in talking about themselves or their ideas than listening to what someone else has to say. Listening involves interest, patience and caring which most people don’t have in spades. I’m one of those few people who actually listen to what people are saying. I find people interesting and people find me particularly empathetic. I have one of those faces that just say “spill it baby, I’m here for you” and let me tell you, people do spill it to me. I first realized that I had this gift when I was 14 years old. I would sit at the bus circuit (because I was always early for the bus to school) and the bus driver would chat with me about everything that was on his mind. As I’ve mentioned before I have a lot of acquaintances in bus drivers who have chatted me up over the years.

A good deal of my job involves listening, listening to instructions, listening in meetings so I can take accurate minutes, listening to colleagues so they can bounce ideas off me. As I say, I am very good at it and that is why it astounds me when others don’t hear the same things that I hear. In fact, they will often question my sanity because they didn’t hear the same thing as me. I actually believe they have drifted off, as most people do, during a meeting or a speech. I almost never get distracted when I am at work, in a meeting or a forum where a speech is being made. That’s why I can tell you absolutely that our first president very clearly said “there will be no Norwegian spoken in the halls”. No one else apparently heard it but I promise you, he said it, loud and clear.

In a social setting where there are a lot of people talking at once, I must admit that I can be distracted. While listening to one person some other conversation may catch my ear and I end up getting pulled into a second conversation and lose the thread of the first person. It seems to happen more often as I get older than it used to, or perhaps I am just more aware of it. But I do try to stay focused because it seems terribly rude not to be listening. That’s why I prefer smaller groups to large crowds, it’s easier to talk one on one and listening one on one. If you listen, people really do surprise you. People can be very interesting. I like people!

Do yourself a favour, tune up your ears and you will be surprised at what you learn.

Middle Age to Elderly?

When I was a little girl I thought 60 was the turning point from middle age to being old. In fact I was still defining the end of middle age at 60 when I was in my 40’s. I am now 58 and the new old age is getting pushed back to 70. Look at Susan Lucci and Goldie Hawn, they are in their 60’s and they don’t look old. Okay, so I may not be as svelt or unlined as them but let’s face it botox and other forms of plastic surgery have assisted these ladies.

But old age isn’t simply about looks, in fact its only a very minor part of being old. Old is thinking old, feeling old and acting old. I’m pretty sure that I only have minor abrasions of old in those categories. I still enjoy challenges with new technologies (perhaps enjoy is too generous, but I work with the challenges). And yes, my joints may be a bit creaky as I get out of bed in the morning but a few stretches and I am ready to go. Acting old? I still enjoy teasing, good jokes and running under the sprinkler in my underwear.

Society talks about respecting the elderly but it is mere lip service. Commercials still ignore the elderly or they poke fun at them. More seriously, nursing homes are under staffed which leads to neglect of the elderly folks in these homes. How can we afford to put money into hockey arenas before health care that includes staffing nursing homes and other centres for the elderly? Let’s all of us remember that this destiny is also ours. Inevitably we come to the point where our families cannot take care of us adequately and they have no choice but to put us into a place that can better care for our needs.

Yesterday I watched part of Dr. Oz and the program happened to be his Power Hour for healthy living. Essentials for longevity included diet, & exercise - no smoking as another and I can’t remember the other 2 things. In the diet segment he talked about 5 vibrant coloured fruits and vegetables; apple juice, bananas, almonds; sweet potatoes; coffee and vinegar; protein drinks of various fruits and vegetables. All things I have heard a hundred times before and while I still have My Plan I must say that it is a bit discouraging to think about longevity when my destiny may take me into a nursing home where I won’t be cared for 100%.

So how much is enough to take a person to extreme old age with first class care? I’m only a regular person but I feel entitled to first class care in my old age. Don’t you?

Tragedy in Norway

On Friday I was walking down the hallway at work when a colleague came around the corner looking very upset. I asked him what was wrong and he told me that he had just been on the telephone with his girlfriend in Norway when the news broke that the government buildings in Oslo had exploded and there were people killed and injured all over the place. Immediate shock set in. How could something like this happen in a quiet peaceful country like Norway? Shortly afterwards we heard that a youth camp had also been attacked and 10 children were killed. What is going on? We were staggered.

I haven’t mentioned before but I work for a Norwegian based company so besides being Scandinavian myself I have an allegiance to this country from an employment perspective.

What sets people off to the extent of murdering innocent people? I cannot comprehend it.

Crime is nothing new nor is evil however one would have hoped that after all these years of education, of invention and of prosperity that things would be improving. Instead we appear to have more violence than ever before. Or am I misinformed? If one reads Charles Dickens stories there was always a lot of crime in England, even murder. How wild was the Wild West? The roaring ‘20’s saw Capone and the rise of Mafia in America. Here we are in the 21^st Century and we have world terrorists knocking down buildings and shooting innocent children. What is the matter with humanity?

We human beings are capable of so much good that it is hard to understand that there are people who have some kind of twisted brain that makes them glory in evil. I well recall a deep conversation that my father and I had some 20 years ago where we were trying to figure out the creation of things and we finally ended up with “but where does evil come from”? Somehow it became part of the equation. We couldn’t really come up with a solution. Later that evening who should knock on my door but a couple of Jehovah’s Witnesses with a magazine that asked “Where does evil come from?” Serendipity.

When I was 16 I concluded that there was no such thing as The Devil. 25 years later I was being led down a path that espoused the belief that there indeed was a devil. Something had to explain the existence of evil, but what was it? No, I don’t believe it is The Devil. Is it in all human beings, the potential for evil, or is it only in certain ones?

I don’t have the answer. But we see for ourselves that most of us lead a rather simple life doing no harm and then these madmen appear to disrupt everyone’s lives. We truly are a disappointing species.

Summer Sunshine

What a perfectly fine summer day. A very gentle breeze, lots of sunshine and everything lush and green. There are dragonflies and butterflies floating in the air while the birds seem to have gone into hiding in the trees, escaping the heat. I have puttered around the yard, watering and cutting and then gone into the sunroom to rest a while and have a drink of water or cup of coffee.

It’s the very heat of the day now so I have been reading “The Independence of Mary Bennet” which I find very disappointing. It is nothing but a gothic romance that has turned the beloved Austen characters inside out. Darcy is a loathsome villain, Bingley is a philanderer with a Jamaican mistress, Lydia is a drunken trollop and Mary has somehow become an Elizabeth while the real Lizzie is a weeping pot. Why do authors choose to so malign the characters created by someone else who clearly did not have such a vision of the characters? I don’t understand. I thought since the author of this book was Colleen McCullough, the author of The Thorn Birds, that it would be a quality read. I am sadly disappointed but naturally I can’t help but finish it. I try to suspend my knowledge and pretend that these are all completely different characters with the same name.

I feel the same way when they do a remake of a film or television show. Giovanni Ribisi as Pete Cochrane of The Mod Squad, are you kidding me? Everyone knows that Michael Cole was cooler than cool and to have the character be a fumbling idiot ruined the whole movie for me. Clare Danes was okay as Julie but I haven’t been able to watch the movie again because Ribisi annoys me beyond belief.

Don’t even get me started on “Scarlett”. What part of Margaret Mitchell’s words is incomprehensible? Scarlett would never get Rhett back, but she would be a better person. Perhaps. Never in a million years would Scarlett lose Tara. Wasn’t that obvious to anyone who read the book?

So right now I thought I would write out my frustrations with this book --- and ask myself why I put myself through the pain of it all? Next up, Judge Judy’s book “Beauty Fades, Dumb is Forever” which ought to give me a laugh. She sure has a way with words!

Beautiful Words

Leaving hot topics on this lovely Friday I thought it would be pleasant to write about something happy and light. So let’s talk about words that put a smile on your face. Let’s try on Bliss. This is a word that isn’t used very often but a phrase like “finding your bliss” sends a mellow feeling with a bit of sunshine through it. Bliss means complete happiness. Oh yes, I love that word.

How about Serendipity which is the faculty of finding things not sought for? I love how this word trips off the tongue and again, it has happiness sprinkled all over it. Butterfly conjures the real thing in my mind immediately and just makes me think of summer days in my childhood. There were butterflies everywhere all day long when I was a child. Butterflies just make me happy.

Farthingale is stately and proud but the sound of it makes me feel safe. It’s both a place and a piece of clothing (it was used as part of an underskirt to make the hips stick out, and if that doesn’t make you smile . . . )

Enchanting, just the sound of the word is . . . enchanting. Picture Tom Hanks repeating the word when his grandfather tells him that Kathleen Kelly’s mother was Enchanting. Oh yes, “You’ve Got Mail” is one of my favourite love stories. And Meg Ryan is Enchanting.

Serene is another word that I love but this is a word that is rarely used, probably because there is not a lot of serenity in the world. I have been told that my face is Serene and I was charmed and flattered. And for a moment I actually was Serene!

Fleeting has a lot of connotations but I use it because time is fleeting and I must get dressed. I am behind the eight ball this morning as I first tried to write a Hot Topic but I Surrendered to the Feeling of Bliss that is Friday of a self driven Long Weekend. Oh Oh Oh – another Nice word. Holiday!

Mother, Zephyr, Waltz, Lullaby

Hot Topic #3

Government programs pop up all the time and occasionally you will hear people complaining about this or that which is fine with me. But what I find extremely annoying is when social programs come up and people ask the question “whose going to pay for it?” Are you kidding me? Just think of all the government programs that are instituted and to which we have no say whatever, who do you think is paying for them?

I am always surprised when I hear people denigrate social programs, anything from old age pensions and welfare cheques to health programs and abortions. I find them more verbal about these programs than our military programs, our top heavy government, the gravy train we call our elected officials, sponsoring the G8, being in the G8, financing Quebec and other far more expensive taxpayer funded initiatives.

A more valid question than “whose going to pay for it?” is “what are we getting for our tax dollars?” It is much more important to have real transparency in seeing where our hard earned tax dollars are going to support. Without a doubt, in my mind, programs such as education, health care, pensions, and infrastructure are top priorities that should be funded. As long as there are gravel roads funds should not be put towards sports, zoos, the arts, space programs or sponsoring royal visits. End of story. Do you know that there are more gravel roads in Alberta than any other province and yet we are the richest province? Saskatchewan has more paid roads than us! As long as seniors are merely scraping by we should not be building community hockey rinks or buying more monkeys for the zoo.

If you saw your neighbour buying a big fancy motor home, a sail boat and travelled around the world three times a year but you noticed that their four children were wearing thin winter coats, had no boots and their teeth needed attention, what would you be thinking? I recall a neighbour of ours when we lived in Ontario – the father had all these toys, skiis, skates, a boat, a canoe, a speed bike and a number of other things. The five kids wore bathing suits all summer and had no shoes – and I am not kidding you. I was really shocked when we went into their basement to play one day and saw all the things that belonged to the father. The kids hardly even had toys. There were four girls and they shared one doll – seriously. Selfish behaviour? You bet. Poor fiscal management? Absolutely.

The truth is that we individuals pay an extremely good percentage of taxes which should have no difficulty in support not only the essentials that I have noted but some of the more sensible “frills” as well. But sadly our government does not have any accountable fiscal management. We hear scandal after scandal and we spend millions, even billions, on supposed investigations but who do they think they are kidding? Conservative or Liberal, makes no difference. Dirty politics, scandalous behaviours, they are swept under the carpet. AND WE ARE PAYING FOR ALL THIS CRAP.

If you are so worried about who is going to pay then don’t fret about a $500 abortion, fret about a mother and child being on welfare for at least 18 years until the kid grows up. Think about how much that is going to cost and adjust your thinking! So don’t ask me “whose going to pay for it” because I am likely going to sock you in the chin. Forget about it. Think about what is right and sensible.

Hot Topic #2

My number two pet peeve has got to be the drivers on the road these days. Recently they have done yet another survey confirming what we all know, that drivers are less courteous than in years past. Some of the things that annoy me are passing without signalling; passing on the inside lane; aggressive speeding where the fool behind you is on your bumper even though you are already going 10 over the speed limit. That’s not good enough for him. He has an SUV and he knows how to put the pedal to the metal. He wants to go 140. Never mind that we are on the Deerfoot during rushhour, that it is wall to wall, all three lanes are barely moving, he has the RIGHT to pass everyone else, so let’s just squeeze down the shoulder to get past everyone. Or say we are on the highway and it is relatively clear, however, I am passing a semi-trailer at 119 km then my question is

“Are you completely obsessed with yourself? Can’t you see that I am passing at a normal speed and that you are going to have to adjust to the other drivers on the road who are driving at NORMAL passing speeds?”

I don’t have to go 140 because that’s what the guy behind me is doing. I can still pass the semi-trailer at my speed and merge into the right hand lane when I am past him. So back off you stupid jerk and grab a brain!

Lately I’ve been noticing that a lot of the idiot drivers have 7 digit license plate numbers so I am thinking that these are younger drivers, part of the “me generation” but I won’t let the older drivers off the hook as once in a while I do bother to look at the drivers who are passing me. Grey haired men.

Another thing that really gets to me is the people who doggedly drive on the outside lane up the Deerfoot, or on McLeod, even as we are headed to the big merge near Okotoks. Sure as shooting, 95% of these drivers then scramble to get into the right hand lane for the merge to Okotoks. Morons. Why aren’t you in the right hand lane to begin with, leaving the ones who are going further south to take the left lane and then move over to the south lanes? Because they are SPECIAL. They are entitled to zigzag. The extra 10 seconds to stay in the right lane is too much for them to handle with their special, entitled lives.

People, be safe. Take it easy. What are the extra 10 seconds to you anyway? Those 10 seconds can cause an accident. Slow down, you will get there in one piece and your adrenaline levels will be normal. I firmly believe that speed is the cause of bad manners. Speed causes adrenaline rushes through the body which can cause aggressive behaviour. Aggressive behaviour negates good manners. The fact remains that most of the drivers on the road are decent drivers and follow the rules though often they (me included) are forced to go faster than we want to because of the aggressive behaviours of a few.

If we all drove exactly the speed posted we would be much better off. After all the signs are there for a very good reason, our safety.

Think about that today.

P.S. I’ve noticed an inordinate amount of semi-trailers on the highway this week. What gives?

Hot Topic #1

If you’ve ever watched The View you know that the first 15 minutes of the show is dedicated to hot topics which the hostesses review in magazines and newspapers and then bring to the table for discussion. Jodi Picoult who is the author of such famous works as “My Sister’s Keeper” often picks a hot button topic for the theme of her books. So just to get away from my life, per se, for a while I thought I would do some hot topics. Naturally first thing in the morning, with my sunny disposition (read tongue-in-cheek), it’s not easy to find one that can get me going. Until, that is, I think about cellphones.

Yes, cellphones can drive me around the bend. Be it the regular cellphone or a blackberry or other version thereof. Don’t get me wrong, they have their place which is preferably in a sinkhole in Africa. Yesterday afternoon as I was leaving work I got off the main elevator and proceeded to walk over to the parkade elevators but I was obstructed by a short nincompoop of a man who was planted in the middle of the hallway fixated on his blackberry. I walked around him, proceeded to the elevators which was still some distance away from the nutbar and got into the elevator which was miraculous just opening its doors. I waited for the doors to close and just as they were halfway closed the nincompoop comes strolling in, still fixated on the blackberry, and proceeds to get his head knocked out by the elevator doors. He muttered some excuse about the doors and I simply looked at him as though he was a man from outer space. Moron, I thought.

I saw he pressed P1 and I had parked in P2 so the next thing that flashed through my mind was “This nutcase is going to drive out of the parkade while still staring at his blackberry so I better be careful because he could end up hitting me.” I therefore walked slowly to my car, slowly buckled my seatbelt on and then carefully checked my mirrors, turned on the radio to the traffic station and hoped to goodness the fool was gone. Yes, my procrastination had saved me an encounter with a DISTRACTED DRIVER.

Supposedly they are going to start fining people in SEPTEMBER for being a distracted driver. Seriously? September? Are you kidding me? This pedestrian knocked his head against the elevator doors – and when I say he knocked his head against the door, I mean he was literally jolted and bounced around between the doors and then staggered into the elevator – you are going to tell me that this idiot is safe to drive? He was still grasping the stupid blackberry and staring at it even as he muttered to me his excuses. Moron. Nincompoop. Idiot. Those are nice words for this fool. The problem is that he IS NOT ALONE. There are thousands of them out there, just waiting to get me. I’ve mentioned before that when I was riding the commuter bus I used to look out the window and count how many were on cellphones as we drove down McLeod Trail. I would estimate between 20 and 25 percent of the vehicles had the driver on a cellphone. There weren’t as many actually texting, that I could see, but there was at least one or two EVERY DAY that I would observe on the drive home.

Now you can see from the foregoing that I have a real problem with cellphones. Just let me ask you one simple question. What is so important? In 1995 when the mobile phones were still big clunky things did people have them stuck to their ears as they drove along? Rarely. Prior to the invention, how did the morons cope? Seriously, I’d like to know. Were they masturbating in the cars to keep their hands busy? Did they sing along to Cyndi Lauper to keep their lips moving? Did they concentrate on their memories to remember what the hell they needed to bring home to the little wife? Or did they just drive along on their merry way and think “who can I kill today” as they swerved directly into oncoming traffic?

And I thought I didn’t have anything to say this morning. Haah.

Such is Life

After a superb Saturday where everything came together to make a perfect day I had planned to spend a tranquil Sunday enjoying the lovely country weather. My sister joined me for mid-morning coffee and leftover buns from the barbecue yesterday. We putzed around, she was cleaning her truck and I was cutting some grass in corners here and there. Then we sat and lazed about, ate some cherries and talked. At noon Charlotte headed off to pick up her husband somewhere on their lease (he was driving cattle and being a cowboy). I went in to have some lunch and noticed a message on my machine.

So much for lunch and tranquility. I was off to the hospital after hearing from one brother that the other had knocked himself out in some accident. Oh boy, here we go. I didn’t know if it was a car accident or if he had been riding his bike because Erik had taken off before I got up this morning. A rare occurrence but there you have it. Just as I entered town I saw John and mom going the other way so i got the scoop from them at the roadside. Apparently Erik had been out for a long run with having eaten a proper breakfast and even though he headed out early it was still too hot. He got a cramp in his leg just as he got back to his truck, tried to stretch it out and then passed out and knocked his head on the sidewalk. Lucky for him a passerby found him and called the ambulance.

So I headed off to the hospital on a mercy call and tried to discover when they would release him. Instead of telling me anything about that they started grilling me about his residence, health care insurance and so forth. I was really surprised because they knew I was his sister and why would they be asking me these questions when he was supposedly coherent? I found it odd but eventually I got to go see him. He was groggy but okay. So I ran some errand after the visit and got home, resigned to being called late in the day to come and get him. As it turned out I no sooner got in the door than Erik called and said I could come pick him up. I had a quick bite of lunch only 2 hours after planning to eat and then drove back to town. Then I drove him home and then went out to my mother to reassure her that he was home – and bring her a bunch of flowers for her pots as her first batch had died (naughty cat peeing in the beds).

To cap it all off, just as I was leaving John pointed out that I had a screw in my brand new tire and encouraged me to change it as soon as I got home. Like that was going to happen! Some other time I will tell you the story of my one and only flat tire. But as of right now, I am not changing any tires. This means going to work late tomorrow because I will have to wait until the shop opens. I don’t think it would be right to ask Erik to change my tire after his concussion.

So just as things are running along in perfect order, things happen to disrupt the smooth course of my day!

Such is life.

P.S. Erik is fine.

A Real Summer Day

Now this is what I call a real summer day, when you wake up to daylight and it is 5:30 a.m. When you walk outside in your bare feet and you don’t get frost bite. When the grass is green and there is no dew on it. When the trees are perfectly still and the birds are just beginning to start their morning song. When the sunrise spreads pink fingers across the sky. When the house is fresh and clean and smells like “company’s coming”. Yes, all is well with the world when you anticipate 26 degrees Celsius on a Saturday morning.

Now for the less encouraging news. We got the BBQ assembled by 10 p.m. last night (yes it was a two parter) and then we pressed the ON button. We could hear the propane whizzing through the pipes but it didn’t seem to flare up. I asked Erik if we should light a match. He grinned and said “no guts, no glory” just like Garfield but neither of us really dared to do it. So here it is going on 6 a.m. and I am thinking that I will be broiling my marinated steaks rather than barbecuing them as I am fearful of this big monster that sits magnificent and shiny out on the patio. Now my buddy Neal can have his laugh on me when I told him this was a Girls Event. Lesson learned, when you are planning a barbecue be sure to include men. They are all over the equipment. This is when they are in their glory. If I had been thinking properly I would have remembered that and instead of worrying about meat I could be baking the banana cream, lemon meringue and cherry pies to keep up their manly strength.

However I am woman and I always have a second strategy. I’ve got an oven, a spare BBQ and Options! And I happen to have a grocery store 5 minutes away so all is under control. The plan is to enjoy every minute with all these fantastic friends. Everything else is ‘manyana’.

BBQs and Bad Boys

The big moment finally arrived last night when Erik and I started to assemble the big monster of a BBQ I bought last weekend. At last I realized why the main part of the barbeque was so heavy, half of the boxes was stored inside the sucker! If I had known that I would have made the clerks at Canadian Tire undo it and store the boxes in the trunk. It would have been so much easier for me to get the big fellow out of my back seat.

While Erik was opening up the boxes I was reading the instructions and my heart sank when I saw how many pages actually WERE the instructions! There were 20 steps for the 20 different areas to be installed.

Now while I was studying the pamphlet and Erik was muttering about the parts we had the door to the sunroom open and Thumper, who had managed to get inside to have his afternoon siesta in the comfort of shade was now lurking on the back steps and I caught his green eye for one pregnant moment.

“Thumper, no, it’s bedtime and you cannot go out to play. Go to your room.”

He didn’t even pretend to understand me. I could see that he had that mulish look on his face. He was determined to find a way to manoeuvre past Uncle Erik and get out to frolic in the night. I sat down by the steps, sprawled comfortably while Erik gave me my little tasks to perform. Assemble the front doors by putting handles on. I now realize that my fingers are seriously not nimble any longer as I fumbled for the tiny little washers, nuts and locks. Try dealing with that and still give the evil eye to the little critter who is openly stretching his neck to assess the outdoor situation. I may not have mentioned before that while Thumper has accepted Erik somewhat he can still be pretty anal about passing him, especially when he knows he is being an escape artist. He was leery about leaping past me and then past Erik who was being quite loud as he assembled the BBQ due to the fact that he was being attacked by the pterodactyl mosquitoes that are breeding yet again.

Then the moment happened. Cherie distracted me by now making his appearance and trying to make his escape. What’s the word I am looking for? Oh yes, he was the decoy. As I ushered Cherie back inside Thumper made the leap, one, two, three and he was beyond Erik and running for his treehouse.

“You are so grounded when you come in tomorrow morning, you devil, you.” I admonished even as I chuckled. Erik, good uncle that he is said “Leave the guy alone and let him play.”

So here Thumper is this morning, whining that he wants to go back outside and I am being stern and strict. At this moment Thumper is pulling his wheezing trick, trying to make me feel sorry for him.

I tell you, cats these days are so spoiled. You’d think they were dogs.

Oh and by the way, who on this planet decided that the way to sell product was to have everything apart so customers could play at being an engineer? They should be shot.

The juveniles plotting strategy.

Home Remedies

Have you noticed that when you have a cold, flu, or other illness, or when you sustain an injury people will be very caring and helpful. Inevitably they all seem to have a home remedy to cure the ailment. Often they work. If you recall all the remedies we were told on how to cure or prevent a mosquito bite itch while we were in Ecuador we heard plenty. In the end though, time was the cure.

The topic sprang to mind this morning as I looked again at the huge burn I got on the weekend, courtesy of my lawnmower. I look like a branded calf with a nice big C on my forearm. At first I didn’t realize how badly I had burned myself but as I continued to feel the throb I went into the house, applied an icecube for several minutes and then put egg white on the burn to prevent scarring. I don’t think I waited more than three minutes before I attended to the burn but that was long enough to cause the burn to run deeper into the skin with the result that I now have a pretty ugly looking scar on my arm. I only added the egg white for 2 days which was my second mistake, I should have continued using the egg until the burn was gone. Now I will end up with a permanent scar on my arm. It will go nicely with the big one on my upper arm which was the result of a scratch from a barbed wire fence.

The story of that scar is quite funny. It happened on the momentous occasion of my mother’s pseudo 75^th birthday. Part of the event was raft racing on the creek that runs through my brother’s property. My sister Jeanette and I were partners in one boat and when they said “go” we ran like maniacs to get down to the creek, hauling the stupid raft with us. I hauled the raft over the fence and then climbed through it ripping my arm as I went. I didn’t think much of it because just as that was happening my eyes beheld Jeanette rolling down the hill to the water. It wasn’t a graceful roll. She was bumping and leaping as she rolled (don’t ask me how that is possible but she was). Apparently as I was crawling through I somehow ended up hauling Jeanette over before she was ready with the result that she lost her footing and made this horrific journey down to the creek. Jeanette ended up wrenching her knee but despite the pain both of us scrambled into the raft and made our way down the creek to the finish line, though we hardly got any flags along the way because SOMEONE had cheated and got there first!

Fortunately I had a tetanus shot so I didn’t need to worry too much about not seeing to the scratch right away and quite frankly it didn’t seem that deep to me at the time. I was pretty amazed to discover that I even got a scar and that it has lasted 3 years is even more surprising to me. It’s definitely permanent. To think a grown woman could cause such damage to herself is kind of scary. Can you imagine what I can get up to in the next 30 years? I need a home remedy for caution.

Have I mentioned the cure for bee sting?

Customer Service

Customer Service is actually an oxymoron for customer aggravation. At least that was my experience yesterday when I tried to straighten out my Sears account for the second time in 6 weeks. The person I spoke to yesterday was the most obnoxious, unhelpful moron I have ever had the misfortune to speak with. He seemed to take pleasure in misconstruing what I said, deliberately lied, prevaricated and in the end infuriated me to the point of no return. When I get angry I get LOUD. I only get angry when I know that I am in the right and I definitely know that I am right in this instance. When a person has a credit on their account, how can you possibly be in the wrong? When you have been a customer in good standing for 25 years, how can you be in the wrong? When you have the equivalent of a triple A credit rating, how can you be in the wrong? Lastly, when you are the customer, how can you be in the wrong?

Apparently this individual who undoubtedly hails from India hasn’t been taught elementary customer service. You know what he quoted to me? The list of how many times I hung up on the collection agency. You think? Two days after my first call where I had assumed everything had been straightened out I got a call from the collection agency. I told the person “please speak to the store because this has been straightened out” and I hung up. Since then I have had at least one call per week (and who knows how many more that I simply don’t answer). Anyone who knows me will tell you that the minute I hear that space between pickup and some machine kicking in, I hang up. So when this fellow said I had hung up that was actually untrue because I never spoke to anyone except the first time – I haven’t spoken to anyone since. The fact that I spoke to the collection agency that one time was a fluke where the human was on the phone immediately. And I don’t have a problem speaking with a human and naturally when I heard “Sears” I wanted to know if there was a problem. But to hear that they wanted to collected – excuse me, but I have a credit. You think maybe I would be annoyed? ANNOYED, yes, I was ANNOYED.

After cooling down somewhat yesterday I started to compose a letter to Sears but I wasn’t cooled down enough to review it and send it off. And I still haven’t determined what ultimate action I want. All I know is that I got royally cheesed off when I was simply trying to straighten out the mess of having said yes to changing from a store credit card to a Mastercard. My advice is DON’T DO IT. I should have left well enough alone and stayed with my old store credit card. Now I don’t think I can even shop in Sears, I am so irritated with the experience.

Hazel, in 2011 the customer is always wrong.

Thunder and Lightening

We had a terrific storm in the night and then the power went out at 4:14 a.m. so I wasn’t able to turn the computer on this morning. It really is amazing how dependent we are with all our inventions. I was completely blind fumbling in the extreme dark this morning, unable to see a thing and naturally unable to find the matches to light my candles. I also could not find my flashlight which is usually by my bedside and let’s just say it has mysteriously disappeared.

Electricity is probably our greatest invention. It’s what drives all our other conveniences such as washing machines, stoves, fridges, toasters, electric kettles, irons. Notice it’s all the kitchen conveniences that I mention first. Sure, there are televisions, radios, electric guitars and what not but for a woman, the essentials are in the kitchen. Not for me the pounding of laundry on rocks, using paddles or washerboards, ringing my hands raw. I mentally shudder at the thought. Back in the day our grandmothers made their own bread, jams, and jelly. They knit the socks of their thirteen offspring and the husband who took off sailing for two years at a time. My great grandmothers also worked the farm while their husbands were fishing or sailing as a merchant marine.

Can you imagine raising a dozen children, running a large household without electricity plus run a farm with almost no help? They used oxen to pull the plow, no tractor yet. No going to the store for bread, meat or clothing, that was also prepared by the little woman. One of my great grandmothers also dried her own fish and had enough left over to sell back to the grocer! Talk about intrepid.

And what flashed through my head when the lights went out?

“Thank God I got my coffee before the power went off!”

We’ve come a long way, baby.

Clods

Many, many years ago I was a faithful reader of Ann Landers and on one particular day she wrote a response that included the term “insensitive clod”. I thought it was extremely appropriate in the circumstances and have used it many times as the need arose. It just has a certain cutting edge to it that works much better than any curse word. The other day I discovered another sort of clod, the uncouth clod. This is what happened.

As always I was extremely early for my medical appointment, so much so that the doors were not even opened yet so I sat in my car just outside the doors and waited. As it got closer to 8:30 a couple arrived and stood in front of the door. Then a third person arrived and I thought I better get outside and join the lineup. As I did so a fourth person arrived and then a fifth. There were 3 men and 3 women including myself now waiting. The doors opened. Three men streamed in, the third one literally, and I mean literally, ran in front of me. Uncouth clods, that is what I thought as I got my ticket and stared at them sitting in a row. They looked smug like they had won the lottery rather than just beating out three women going in for blood work.

As I sat there for the next 45 minutes awaiting my turn I puzzled about the lack of chivalry in this small town. One would think that there wasn’t the same hustle and bustle in a small town as there is in the big city but apparently clod-dom is alive and well in this little hick town. I shouldn’t be surprised but I have to say when I saw that old man running ahead of me I was amazed to the point of speechlessness. I’m not sure I will get over it. All I can say is that I behaved like a lady and didn’t say a word but if looks could wither they would have all three turned into shrivelled bits of corn.

By the way, I’ve seen the same sort of smarmy behaviour in the Tim Horton lineup. Men in expensive business suits slithering up the line looking for someone they might remotely know, then they chat them up and yes, they sneak ahead in the lineup. I think the same thing, uncouth clods. Warren K. Cook or not, you are nothing but a clod in a suit. I mentally see the hayseeds falling out of their hair and mud clunking off their sparkling black shoes. You can dress them up but you still can’t make a gentleman out of a clod. That comes from within.

So, are you a gentleman or a clod? Women are watching you for the answer.

Bring It On

There was a movie with this name about cheerleaders a few years ago which was all about excellence and competition. Girl stuff. I like that phrase, it is challenging but also fun.

Last night I was reading my Zoomer magazine which was loaded with articles about How To Be 100. Did you know there were 6,000 centenarians in Canada? The oldest documented person was 122 years old and 164 days? Impressive. She gave up smoking at 117! Just like the documentary Barbara Walters did a few years ago the findings have something similar – joy of living and a sense of humour. Well I have both in spades so I should be good for 116 don’t you think?

If only my doctors would agree. And there is the nub of the matter. Taking care of one’s health has to become a priority if you “have a plan” (that’s my code for living to 116). I know what I need to do, eating healthy, exercising in moderation and going to the doctor(s) regularly. The last two I am fine with and generally do the correct things. But the eating healthy is difficult for me, mostly because I am lazy but give myself the excuse that I am tired, it’s not easy to cook for one (throwing away fruits and vegetables is wasteful) and so on and so on. Some people can get away with being sloppy with their diet but I am not one of them.

I’m not beating myself up today because I have actually been very good over the last few months. The only thing left to do is give up sweets but I don’t know that that will happen. But cutting down, this I can do.

It’s a gorgeous morning in the countryside, the sun is shining, there is a slight breeze to cool down the day, the grass is green and the sky is blue. Today the plan is to buy the longed for barbeque and a new riding lawn mower. I’m hoping we can fit both into the truck but if not it will be a two-tripper. Things are coming together.

So summer – bring it on!