David, Rissa and I are enjoying our weekly Sunday pancake breakfast. “These are great!” says Rissa. “The texture is magnificent!” We’ve been trying to perfect gluten-free pancakes for the past several years. It’s been hit or miss. “Yeah,” says David, chewing on his maple syrup-soaked pancake. “These are the ones. We’ve done it! Which is…
“Do you think there are videos on YouTube on how to do minor surgery?” I ask David. “No,” David says with a note of finality in his voice. “No?” “No, you may not do minor surgery on yourself.” “Don’t be silly. I wouldn’t do minor surgery on myself.” David’s eyebrows rise as high as they…
If I’m walking funny today, it’s because I’ve been well and truly fucked. $13.38 folks. I spent $13.38 on 1.365 kg of gluten free flour.* I thought I was doing the right thing, I really did. I thought that buying all purpose, gluten free flour at the Bulk Barn had to be cheaper than getting…
Rissa and I love IZombie. We love when Liv cooks the brains each episode. We love when Major’s personality transforms after eating mind candy. We love the theme song, the bad puns, the comic panels. And then Blaine says, “I was singing Hallelujah… the Jeff Buckley tune…” Which is when I lose my shit. “COHEN!! …
“We’re really doing this?” asks David. “I’m willing to try anything,” I respond. “All right, lie down.” He pulls the sheet over me before hefting up a weighted blanket. Filled with 8 lbs of plastic beads, the blanket is deliciously cool against my body despite its weight. I am forgoing a sleeping pill so that…
“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuugh.” “Hmmm? What?” yawns David, before falling back asleep almost instantaneously. It’s 1:30 a.m. Moments ago I was curled next to David, really loving being the Big Spoon. Now I am temperature of the sun. The Lava Queen by Wasudo (Deviant Art) Covers off. I’m sweating from every pore in my torso… neck… scalp. Ugh. …
Warning: descriptive female issues in this post. “OH FOR THE LOVE OF…” “What is it?” “Day Eight apparently.” “Are we in the playoffs?” My baleful eyes could burn through steel. “I am BLEEDING out. I was done. The Diva Cup was empty.” David winces in naive male sympathy/horrified visualization. “And now the cup runneth over?”…
The stress of the 2016 Presidential election has my lower intestines in Stevedore Stopper knots. I’m not even American. The outcome of the election won’t really affect me as someone north of the 42nd. I mean, apart from all the anti-Hillary Republicans who are threatening to move to Canada should the Democrats win and the…
It’s come to this: I am now answering Facebook quizzes in my own head. Without the computer. And not the normal ones like: Which Disney Princess are you? Which Shakespearean character would you be?What breed of cat are you? Nope, this mostly Pagan gal has this one pin-balling around her cranium: Which Bible character is…
“Is everything okay?” asks David, picking up on my funk. “Yep. All good.” I give him a big thumbs up with a side of overly-enthusiastic smile. He gives me a pointed look. I ignore him and lift my chin. Rissa says “Mama do you need a hug?” Yes, I do. I do need a hug. …