WARNING: Colourful language in this post. Fact: My internal thermostat is fucked. I’ve dealt with hot flashes since the age of 36. But the night sweats? The truly disgusting, sleep-annihilating, life-altering, make-you-feel-like-you-have-malaria… Wait. Maybe it’s not night sweats. Maybe it’s malaria. It’s January. In Canada. There are no mosquitos. Maybe it’s COVID… again. Cue rapid…
warning: BIG time bad words in this post. Aphasia nounapha·sia | ə-ˈfā-zh(ē-)ə medical : loss or impairment of the power to use or comprehend words etymology: mid 19th century: from Greek, from aphatos ‘speechless’ *** Rissa and I stand in the checkout line at a Craft/Antiques Barn. Neither crafts nor antiques will be purchased….
I’m at the kitchen table playing word games on my laptop. I have my Google timer set for 6.5 minutes of cool down. Cool down time is vital to surviving a HIIT (High Intensity Interval Training) workout. Otherwise, you’re still sweating IN the shower. And you continue to sweat AFTER you’ve finished the shower. Freshly…
David, Rissa and I are in a charming French restaurant in Baldwin Village. Red walls. Black baseboards. Brilliant yellow door. Art everywhere. We choose to sit inside. You know, because of the art. Instead of facing the wall displaying the larger artwork, my vista will be the opposite wall; the unexpected opportunity to gaze upon…
WARNING: SO MUCH FEMALE STUFF In the summer of 1997, David held my hand as I sat at the triage desk of the local hospital. He looked concerned. I looked like I was going to pass out. The nurse looked wiser than Nicodemus from the Secret of NIMH. “Are you a new couple?” she asked,…
“You’ve what?” asks Rissa, slightly laggy on her end of the video call. “Who have you been talking to? What did you do?” “Nothing,” I say. “I think it’s just my age.” “It’s what? What do you mean it’s your age?” “I think you just get to a certain age and…” “You think there are…
This week (and it’s only Monday – it’s only MONDAY?!?), I find myself wondering what caused She-Hulk’s transformation from regular woman-about-town, to big green rage monster. ‘Cause I’ve had three instances today where I found myself fighting to maintain my equilibrium between rationality and absolutely losing my shit. This morning, I’m moving from the bathroom…
“Prrrrrrowl?” “Prrrrrrrowwl??” “Prrrrrrrrrowwwl??” My eyes open. “Prrrrrrowl?” Why am I even surprised? Lola had been staring at the bottom of the refrigerator when we went to bed. “Prrrrrrrrrrrowl?” That’s the sound of a cat with its mouth full of mouse. Bat. Bat-Bat. Bat-Bat-Bat-Bat. And that is the sound of a cat playing with a mouse….
Raccoons are mostly nocturnal. So if you’re seeing one during the day, something is up. Ie: you might have trapped its kits in your eaves by sealing up the holes in your roof (Bring me your furry…) or… it might possibly be… rabid. And yet… when a raccoon appears on my deck, my immediate impulse…
I clutch the handrail, lifting one foot in front of the other. David follows me, really close – my personal border collie – ensuring that I don’t fall. “I’m good,” I say. I’d give a sloshy thumbs-up, but my left hand is presently holding the other wall. My feet mostly feel the stair treads beneath…