As I’m writing at the kitchen table, I intermittently glance out the window – enjoying flashes of flora and fauna in our backyard. The Engleman’s Ivy lushly embraces the pergola, the grass is green, there are birds and squirrels, and… a… fox? As I lean to the side of my computer screen, desperate to catch…
“We’re going to play a game when we get home,” Rissa says, in the midst of our after-dinner walk. “Are we?” I query. “Oh, yeah,” she says. David immediately concurs. “What kind of game?” I ask. “Hide and seek? Sardines?” she jokes. “I could get on board with Hide and Seek,” I admit. I haven’t…
“MOTHERFUCKER!” I exclaim vehemently (and quietly – because I’m in the backyard and our adjacent neighbours have kids and I don’t want them to start randomly yelling MOTHERFUCKER, and then attributing it to the middle-aged, crazy woman whose backyard abuts theirs.) “What?” asks David, looking up from his computer programming on the outdoor sofa “This,”…
I have been married for almost 23 years. Of those almost 23 years, 22.852 of them have been unreservedly, unabashedly, unquestionably happy. Relationships cannot possibly be all sunshine and roses all of the time. Once you’ve said your “I do’s”, you do not forever exist in a state of “Happily Ever After,” no matter how…
WARNING: There are bad words in this post. * * * * * * “SHIT, PISS, FUCK, MOTHER FUCKER!!!” I yell, nausea washing over me. I have spent the last 60 minutes painstakingly placing, pinning, and subsequently sewing together the edges of outdoor fabric to a recycled zipper only to just now discover that the ends of…
As a grown-ass woman paying down a mortgage/credit line/supporting a child in university, I’ve managed to curb non-essential spending by online window shopping and pinning the fuck out of colourful things on Pinterest; thereby racking up my virtual endorphins rather than my Visa statement. I have evolved in the past 30 years. I have learned…
Our weekly pancakes aren’t going entirely to plan. We don’t have buttermilk on hand, and none of us feel like masking up and braving the No Frills to get it. Granny’s recipe is always better with buttermilk. “Can’t we just use regular milk?” asks Rissa. “How about we sour the milk. It only takes…” I…
Lola is the most erratic of our three cats. She’s the one whose pupils dilate to an alarming size as she stares at a point, just over your left shoulder, where a knife-wielding maniac has obviously taken up residence. She goes from 0 to feline parkour in less than a second. And she loves, loves,…
Today, I popped a rib by NOT making the bed. I calmly moved towards the bed to begin making it, but then figured, Nah, I’ll do this AFTER I exercise. And then, I calmly walked away from the bed. No sudden movements, no being startled, no overly dramatic sneezing – I simply walked away. And then…
WARNING: Pores and the things that come out of pores are featured in this post. There is a used Bioré strip pic… and links to videos. You’ve been warned. . . . . . . Those Bioré nose strips? Is that accent aigu real? I mean, is it actually French or is it like Hӓagen-Dazs where…