Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #18


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Dear Diary – I’m living the dream. Wanna know how? I’ve learned to set the bar low. Today I rocked air guitar in the shower. I am living the dream!

Dear Diary – After the fiasco that was last week, my new credit card arrived Friday. Too bad it was not the replacement for the cancelled card, but the old card with a new expiry date. I still have to wait for the new card. [Note: new card arrived Monday…now I can pay some bills!]

Dear Diary – So another birthday flew by and I’m another year closer to death.

They guys gave a new Fitbit wristband. It’s pink and much more attractive than the one I had tied together with an elastic band. They also gave me a new cake pan that can make a giant letters or a set of numbers. I think I’ll make a “25” for my birthday next year.

I’m not old…I’m 25 plus shipping and handling.

Big Guy isn’t able to visit so he surprised me with breakfast from Cora’s. I enjoyed a buckwheat crepe with fresh strawberries and English cream, in bed!

We ordered in pizza for supper – both pies had lots of bacon!

I spent a lot of timing working on my cake again this year. Last year I did a pink sparkling champagne wine cake with pale pink rosettes in buttercream. This year I went with a vanilla cake with a twist…I made it purple. It looked so pretty in Pinterest.

The funny thing is, I don’t even really like purple!

While mine looked pretty too, the only flavour came from the sickly sweet buttercream icing, and it made a huge cake. Good thing I have a friend who is also asking, “did you bake this weekend?”.

Dear God –
Please make me skinny. But if you don’t want to make me skinny…please make my friends fat. Amen

Dear Diary – Hubby came home today with new equipment for work…but he still has the equipment he’s been using since last March. More and more, my dining room table is starting to resemble the bridge of the Starship Enterprise!

Beam me up, Scottie!

Dear Diary – It was Week #3 of my Intro to Writing humour course. During class, we were given 2 in-class assignments. In the first one, we had to fill in the blanks. Some of the questions were…

What if —————— ruled the world?

What if your ————————- wanted to kill you?

What if you are actually a ——————— instead of a person?

Absurdity was strongly encouraged.

Then we had to pick one and write a sketch outline where one thing leads to the next.

I was too embarrassed to share in class.

What if there was a tiny elephant living in your underpants?
It would be hard to go ask someone on a date because the elephant would get bored when you’re just standing and talking and it would start to roam around your underpants.
You would start to dance so the person you’re talking to doesnt’ see it roaming around your underpants and start to freak out.
Then you would start to sweat and the temperature in your underpants would rise. The elephant would start to get too hot and would begin to complain loudly.
You don’t want your potential date to think you’re farting so you try to discreetly slip some peanuts in your underpants.
But then your potential date catches you dropping peanuts in your underpants, so you point behind her to try to distract her.
Meanwhile the elephant would smell the peanuts and get really upset because he didn’t get any peanuts, and he begins to bellow. It sounds like a giant rump trumpet.
By now, a crowd has gathered to watch you dancing and trumpeting, and crushing peanuts under your feet. And you would realize that you and your tiny elephant would forever be alone.
You would run away to the park where you could be alone with your thoughts and feed your elephant peanuts. But then a police officr would catch you with your hand in your underpants and arrest you.
Instead of being alone, you and your tiny elephant would be making new friends in prison.

For the second assignment, we had to pitch a parody that used people and/or a familiar scene that would be familiar to most people. The best I could come up with was “ Hell’s Kitchen: Nerds & Birds” edition. Or the less popular title, “Boogers & Cougars”!

I was too embarrassed to share that idea too!

Dear Diary – It’s always fun to read old Facebook posts. In 2011, I had posted “M & I were lined up at Wal-Mart, and the woman in line ahead of me today pressed some change into my hand to buy M a choclate bar. Her grandsons are grown and she missed giving ‘surprise treats’!”

In 2016, I wrote “So one of my children informed me (out of the blue) that I won’t be getting the Best Mom of the Year award this year because some of my stories are ‘too gross’.”

Yesteday I ate lunch with that same child and I was feeling pretty good. I smiled at him. That was my first mistake. Then I said something witty. That was my second mistake. He gave me a dirty look and told me that this lockdown is hard enough and he has to live here too. He said, “you would make it easier for me if you were less you“.

I bit my tongue. Sure, it stung! What mother wants to hear that her offspring finds her repulsive. On the other hand, teenager! I wanted to retort right back that it would be easier for me if he was less “him”. Or to launch into a rant about how we are uniquely made and I’m an original. Or the less mature route of sticking my tongue out and making a face at him. Instead, I smiled sweetly, with a sparkle of mischief in my eyes. Let him figure out what I was thinking. Good things come to those who sweat…

Go ahead! Underestimate me…That’ll be fun!


Dear Diary – I missed National Naked Gardening Day. On the positive side, it was a little chilly to be out for long on Saturday, even in a heavy coat. On the negative side, I missed scaring Thunder Nugget next door. I figured, if she’s going to scream and thunder around the house all day, I might as well give her something to scream about!

Dear Diary – I’m scheduled to be shot at High Noon on Mother’s Day!

For weeks, we’ve been a rose between two thorns…or rather, between two “hot spots” for Covid. We’ve finally arrived and I get my vaccination. Being immune-compromised wasn’t a good enough reason to offer it to me.

I’m not stupid enough to believe that life will return to normal any time soon, but getting my vaccination does feel like a step in the right direction!

I’m so excited, and I just can’t hide it
I’m about to lose control and I think I like it!

The Pointer Sisters, I’m So Excited

What’s In My Cup: Emerald Green Tea


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Green tea is one of the most popular types of tea consumed in North America. For centuries it was used for medicinal purposes, from headaches to depression. It is lower in caffeine than black or oolong tea. Some studies have shown that green tea can increase the metabolic rate, short term, and it may kill bacteria and inhibit some viruses, improving health overall. Green tea is also high in the amino acid, theonine, which can have a calming effect. 

Normally, I am not a green tea drinker, but there have been a few exceptions: Tetley’s Citrus Kiss, Stash’s Pomegranate Raspberry, and Tetley’s Lychee Pear. All were hits in my books!

Quite awhile back, Big Guy shared a pot of Emerald Green Tea with me, from a boxed set he was given. This particular tea was imported from South Africa, but the “story” on the box that went with it was centered in the mountainous region in the Zhe province in China. Hmm….

Emerald Green_ed

The old expression, “buyer beware” applied here. Often boxed sets of specialty teas are sold in box stores, especially around the holidays. They look nice, but the quality of the tea can be questionable. I don’t know if that was the case here, or if we steeped it too long. Green tea, if steeped for more than minute, it can become quite bitter. It was…unpleasant.

Or maybe I was created to just not like most green teas.

Green Tea meme

The lemon cookies, however, were delicious. 😉

Happy Monday!

“What about desserts?” I asked. “If the world comes to an end, I’m going to want cookies.”

Susan Beth Pfeffer, Life As We Knew It

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #17


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Dear Diary – Stop the world – I want to get off!

This week read like bad sitcom script…or just a never-ending Monday!

I hate Mondays!


Last Thursday was a day of disappointment. The grocery store didn’t sell purple food colouring for next week’s birthday cake, and we discovered the restaurant I chose for my birthday dinner…is permanently closed. Despite being lactose intolerant, I’ve had my mouth fixed for 9 cheese ravioli (because anything less than 9 is just foolishness) for 2 years! I’m aware of the consequences of dairy, and I was prepared to deal with them, even if my family was not! Neither disappointment should be reason to mope, but with the long absences from family and with what should be a special occasion looming, it hit like a ton of bricks.

Friday began as a day of hope. My friend made some phonecalls and found purple food colouring at the Bulk Barn. I called them right away. Not only did I get my colour, I also replaced my star icing tip and restocked my spice cupboard. It’s the little things! When I went to pay in person, their debit machine was attached to a hockey stick. What a Canadian thing to do!

Friday evening, Hubby had his astrozenica vaccination. He felt lousy for the weekend and had a migraine Sunday night. Otherwise, he seemed fine.

Monday began with a jolt! Hubby woke me early with a very suspicious mark on his arm. I made him coffee, gave him my cell phone, because his was, of course, completely dead, and dropped him at the E.R. at 8.

Traffic was deliciously light. I made tea and a couple phone calls when I got home. I didn’t want my friend texting Hubby and getting mad at me because I wasn’t replying. I was supposed to pick up groceries for her and for my family at 10. Hubby was in and out quickly, and he’s ok! But when he called me to pick him up, our phone was busy (sorry), and his phone, we later discovered, turns off when it charges. By the time we connected, he was almost home. It was a long, cold walk…

While he was walking, he missed a text from Big Guy telling us he was not having a good day. His transmission blew up and he only made it halfway home from work. He was stuck on the side of the road, waiting for a tow truck!

I never did get my groceries. My grocery reservation magically “disappeared” and all the other time slots were full. I reserved for Tuesday. Turkey leftovers!

2021 got a lot crappier Monday night. I was supposed to shower Monday morning, but I’d had an early, uncaffeinated morning hospital trip…so I decided to stink all day and treat myself to a long, hot shower Monday night. Instead, I discovered that every time we flushed, did laundry or washed dishes, sewage was backing up in the laundry room. I called the town at 8 and after investigating, they connected me to a plumber. Even though we’d like to return the favour and make noise to irritate wake our neighbours, we arranged for them to come Tuesday morning. We could stink for the night and cross our legs for the next 12 hours. There’s always the tree out back! It’s just like camping, but without the lake.

Typical teen was “annoyed” Tuesday morning because he had to attend virtual school upstairs instead of his batcave. He immediately blocked out all the daylight. I wonder if coffee would’ve helped. He thought a “little water” was no reason to change routines. I had to point out it was “poo water”.

We managed to get through our morning ablutions before the plumbers arrived. I tossed our bowl of “washing water” out the back door like a true hick. But I don’t want to talk about the bucket.

The universe continued to conspire against me. First, my grocery reservation was lost, again. Second, the bank cancelled my credit card, for fraudulent activity in the amount of $4.16. The IT guy at Loblaws assured me my reservation for Wednesday was solid. I could pick food up after my physio torture therapy appointment. Maybe the third time is the charm?

I had stale mini marshmallows and toast for lunch.

Someone offered to uber me alcohol! It was very tempting!

Tonight is my second humour class. Our homework was to make note of humorous anecdotes in our week.

My whole life is anecdotal!

Good-bye “Monday”!

Monday is like a math problem. Add the irritation, subtract the sleep, multiply the problems, divide the happiness.


Dear Diary – I woke up this morning optimistic that today I would feed my family. My grocery pick-up would go off without a hitch. I would bake my birthday cake without the usual disaster. And I would enjoy “Halo night” with Big Guy.

I drove to the grocery store in a blinding thunderstorm right after my physio torture therapy appointment, and parked in Space #5. I called to let them know I had arrived and settled in to play my Word game on my phone. I immediately got stuck.

While rain had cleared when I notified them of my arrival, it was a torrential downpour when the rather sodden clerk arrived with my baskets. Small talk was impossible over the white noise of nature. With the ineffectual wipers on full, I merrily headed home.

The rain slowed to a steady dribble as I began unpacking the jumble of wet plastic bags in the trunk. But under the jumble, was a haphazard layer of unbagged items. Someone had carefully tied my bags of milk in bags and knotted the handles, but didn’t bag 1 can of pasta sauce, 1 carton of apple sauce, 2 blocks of cheese, 2 blocks of butter, 2 cartons of eggs, 2 bags of hamburger buns, 4 loaves of bread, and 2 chocolate bars. The receipt was a soggy wad of paper. All the bags I had transported thus far had been full so those items had not slipped out on the slow trip home. There were simply no bags.

By this time, I had taken most of the bags inside so I had carry the odds and ends in my arms. I nearly dropped the eggs…twice. My bread was squished. My cheese was dented. I have no idea how the eggs survived.

Worse, I was missing 2 chocolate bars. I had ordered 4. One for the 3 of us (and one for my emergency stash)! After all this trouble, most normal people would cut their losses, but…chocolate!

With my vision darkening around the edges, I abandoned the bags at the door and called the head office number. The estimated weight time was 30 minutes. I wasn’t willing to listen to 30 minutes of covid announcements, so I called the store. Something in my voice made them send me straight to the manager. I kept my tale light-hearted, with a barely distinguishable quiver in my voice. I could feel myself finally slipping over the edge.

A shaft of light broke through the clouds, angels began to sing, and this lovely growly-voiced man refunded half of my grocery bill.

I’m still short 2 chocolate bars.

Dear Diary – It’s my birthday!

The purple cake is baked. I had a great evening playing Overwatch online with Big Guy and his friend.

My parent’s gift is waiting for me at a store nearby.

And Big Guy just texted that he ordered me breakfast. It’s arriving in 10 minutes.

I’d better get dressed…

Oh, yes I can make it now the pain is gone
All of the bad feelings have disappeared
Here is that rainbow I’ve been praying for

It’s gonna be a bright, bright sunshiny day!

Jonny Nash, I Can See Clearly Now

It’s Halo Night


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It’s Halo Night!

Even though we haven’t actually played Halo in a couple of years, choosing to play Overwatch instead, Big Guy connect weekly on Wednesdays. It’s his fault I became a gamer. However, video games are good for me, I’ve learned some things, and there are a bunch of reasons that I play! I could probably add to that list now.

Big Guy has helped me try out some other things too! He ran in Mud Hero with me (so he’d know where my body was buried in the woods). He took me to the gun range for my 45th birthday. He also bought me my zombie killing axe after I won an axe throwing “tournament”.

Last year we were planning to ride in a tank. Instead, the highlight was my Tim Horton’s steeped tea, black (after a 40 day fast) and standing in line outside the liquor store with a group of scrawny, tattooed small town mountain men, to buy pink champagne!

My, how the times have changed!

Tonight, on the eve of my 48th birthday, I will be fighting for world domination as a battle angel with my Big Guy. Tomorrow night, I will be fighting for world denomation as a Spartan with my Little Guy (who is now significantly taller than me and loving it)!

I know I’ve always said I’ve wanted a daughter, but who better to have beside me in the event of the apocalypse, than my boys!?!

Happy Wednesday!

Pinky: In or Out


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Just imagine…by some miracle, you have been invited to afternoon tea with the Queen. You have donned your best dress, coiffed your hair, and applied your “paint” (aka make-up). You are breath-taking! After accepting your dainty tea cup and finding a comfortable place to retire, it’s time for your first sip. Pinky in or out?

Have you ever wondered from where this affectation came, and is it really the “queenly” thing to do?

I’ll give you a hint…

Harley Quinn, the Queen of bat-crap crazy and girlfriend to Joker in the Batman franchise, (also a member of Suicide Squad), lifts her pinky!

So does this handsome fellow, Mako Rutledge, aka Roadhog!

American author, novelist, and socialite, Emily Post, who was famous for writing about etiquette, was adamant that pinkies out was ill-mannered.

American columnist and etiquette expert, Judith Martin or Miss Manners, thinks it began around the 17th Century, when tea was first introduced in Europe. The hot beverage was sipped from cups without handles and naturally, fewer fingers were used to prevent burns. How does one balance a hot cup with one handle? Since tea was an imported luxury, the gesture was adopted by the elite and remained even after handles were added to tea cups.

A less popular theory is that finger sandwiches and dainties served with Afternoon Tea would be eaten with 3 fingers, not 4 or 5 fingers, like a common person. In order to distinguish themselves from the riff-raff, socialites adopted the pinky affectation. This might account for the attitude that this is a posh statement by the “elite”, and why it is often used as a parody for social climbers.

Tsk! Tsk! Pinky in darling!

The proper way to hold a tea cup with your thumb and index finger meeting in the handle. Your pinky may be used to balance the cup on the underside of the teacup. If seated at a table, the saucer should remain on the table. If you standing, hold the saucer with your left hand at chest level. Finally, if you are not seated at a table, hold the saucer in your left hand, balanced on your knee. Raise the saucer to chest level, holding the handle of the cup with the opposite hand to prevent spills, before lifting the cup to drink. You tea cup should always be on the saucer when you are not drinking.

Always Pinky IN.

A cup of tea would restore my normality.

Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #16


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Dear Diary – It’s week “Sweet 16” and I feel like there should be cake!

This week I started my course on Writing Humour (becaue Hubby says I need some)! I was really nervous and really excited. I mean, it’s being taught by a celebrity from the Arrogant Worms. I fixed my hair, put on make-up and laid out my pen and pad in plenty of time. I took a pic with my computer (which was terrible so I took another one on my ipad).

Ready to learn

When I went to join in, my keypad wouldn’t work. I couldn’t log in, shutdown or open the directory to find out why. I yelled for Hubby, but he had gone for a walk. So I did a hard shutdown and made tea…

Hubby set up his laptop for me but I missed the first 10 minutes. As for my laptop, Microsoft decided to delete the driver for the keypad so I have to use a mouse. I hate it!

I loved the class though. After brief introductions, we collaborated on a silly song about Apps. Trevor, our instructor, added a tune and by the end of the night, we were singing along. Our homework is to write down funny things that we notice during the week, something I do naturally because coming up with blog material, particularly during covid lockdown, is pretty darn hard to come by!

It didn’t hurt that our chronic lazy toilet issue is back with a vengeance. Instead of running slow once every few weeks, it’s almost a daily thing. One afternoon, I heard Little Guy struggling so I took on the challenge. I couldn’t get it! Hubby couldn’t get it! After 9 buckets of warm soapy water, I tried again. I will not be bested by a toilet!

After my success, Hubby made the comment that when it came to all of us trying to clear the toilet with a plunger, “Mom is the queen”. Without skipping a beat, I replied, “Yup! I’m Queen of the Latrine”.

I ran with the idea and started my own country song/poem:

1) A man’s home is his castle and the toilet is his throne
His children are all grown now but he is not alone
His wife, she is a beauty, and to him, she is a dream
Because this lovely lady is the Queen of his latrine.

When the water slows to a trickle or the flappy thing is broke
When the methane gas is arisin’ and it’s not safe to smoke
Armed only with a plunger, oh! the nightmarish things she’s seen
She’ll conquer, that’s why he’s thankful
‘cuz she’s the Queen of his latrine

2) His wife is smart and pretty, her figure is the charm
But cookin’s never been her strength and that may cause the harm
To thinning pipes he’s addin’ beef and pork and beans
But he knows that she loves him ‘cuz she’s the Queen of his latrine.

Bridge: Logs and bogs and meadow muffins,
Drops and plops or squirts
Whatever’s left behind him, she’s cut out for her work

3) Maybe it’s the plumbing, the house is getting old
The bathroom paint is peeling and the stains are growing bold
But their love’s forever, though their match is strange it seems
Faithful to the end, she is the Queen of his latrine

What do you think? Maybe I should stick to my day job…

Dear Diary -This weekend we woke up to 10 cars in the driveway of our neighbour across the street. And people wonder why there are hundreds of new covid cases in our region every day? Way to social distance. Please…stay at home.

Dear Diary – If the sun shines when it’s raining, we get a rainbow. What do we get when the sun shines and it’s snowing???

Dear Diary – Last night, Hubby was scowling and looking at the bottom of the laundry basket. He turned it upside down and shook it. I told him everything would be ok. In a few days, the basket would be full again, with clean clothes, as if by magic.

Dear Diary – This week I finally coloured my hair. But, I was lazy and my arms were really tired so I didn’t comb it out or dry it before I stuck it in a bun on the top of my head. Now I have “Muppet Hair Syndrome”. It’s been 3 days since and whenever I let my hair out, I look like a female Grover who was struck by lightning. All I’m missing is the smoke!

As if that wasn’t frightening enough, last night, when I leaned forward to turn off the light, my hair was apparently tangled in the wrought iron headboard. I’ve had my hair caught in my zipper before, and a car window, the seatbelt, and the fridge door…my hairbrush, my necklace and my curling iron…but this was a new one for me. I’m scared to look in the mirror because there might just be a bald spot!

If this lockdown lasts too long, I’m going to become this…


but I’m not crazy I’m just a little unwell
I know right now you can’t tell
but stay awhile and maybe then you’ll see
a different side of me

Matchbox 20, I’m not crazy

CFFC: Shiny


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Shiny! For the majority of the world it means an object with a reflective surface, like sunshine on the lake, chrome on a hotrod, or a honking big diamond in a ring. But the nerd in me actually went to a few different places. In the space-western t.v. series, Firefly, Shiny is an expression meaning something is cool or valuable. And, in the video game, Overwatch, it’s a catch-phrase of Jamieson Fawkes, aka Junkrat, an Australian scavenger and anarchist who likes to blow things up! But since Covid restrictions mean I can’t leave home, I can’t fly into space (yeah…that’s the reason…) and blowing things up is just dangerous, I’m sticking with a literal interpretation of “shiny”. Of course, these items are also shiny, because they have value to me.

Nana J’s bracelet
Grandma R’s James Sadler teapot
Nana J’s wedding rings
The smallest cameo came from Rome; the silver was Nana J’s. My Dad bought me the others.
My $1,000 shoes (that I bought for $10)

Little children love bright and shiny things – and in my experience, most grown-up women aren’t very different!

Sheherazade Goldsmith

This is my post for Cee Neuner’s Fun Foto Challenge: Shiny

What’s In My Cup: Orange Marmalade


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Today I will be happier than a bird with a French fry


I googled “ways to keep from going crazy” yesterday afternoon and was directed to 10 Activities to Stop You Going Crazy During Lockdown (Attachment Mummy). I’d venture to say it’s already too late! This list was posted a year ago and here we are in parts of Canada, heading into lockdown #3? #4? I can’t keep track, since the lockdown rules and stay at home orders extend and start before the last finishes. Attachment Mummy suggested making a list of things I’ve always wanted to do, but that seems like cruel and unusual punishment since we have to stay at home! So instead I wrote a list of things to do today. It’s too hard to plan any further ahead than that!

This morning, I started with Steeped Tea’s Orange Marmalade, an organic black tea flavoured only with orange peel. Marmalade is a jam or jelly made with citrus fruit, particularly orange, and this mimics the slight bitterness of it. This tea is also strong and quite astringent. Sometimes, however, you just need to start the day with something basic and strong so you can get on to the important things. I’ve done #1 – Make a list and #2 – Drink tea. Time to move on to #3…


Happy Monday!

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #15


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Dear Diary – I took my friend for her covid vaccination about half an hour north of the city. Almost everything went according to plan. Minutes after my friend headed into the arena, an ambulance arrived, lights and sirens going. My immediate thought was, “what did she do”? Then my cell phone rang.

It was my friend.

Could I bring her driver’s license in to her? The ambulance was just a coincidence. Relief! Thankfully I had clean masks in the car and after digging in her purse and giggling over her license photo, I headed in. I received a lot of disapproving looks from seniors as I patiently stood in line. The staff were very friendly and efficient. I was “processed” and sent to the next staff member quickly. I found my friend, a red-head among haloes of white, and hightailed it out there.

The deed is done and I don’t have to take her back until July!

If I’m lucky, I’ll get my vaccinations before 2022.

Dear Diary – It’s March break! I’ve had a few people correct me saying it’s supposed to be “April break” or “Spring break”, but I prefer March Break. Covid has already messed up so much – let me have my fun!

Speaking of fun, May 1 is “Naked Gardening Day”. It’s been pretty dull in our neighbourhoods lately. Anyone care to join me?

Dear Diary – I was looking at job postings recently, not that I’m in a hurry to come out of retirement. With less stress, my body is letting me enjoy things again, like fresh vegetables and oatmeal! One posting caught my eye, although commuting 2 hours a day, 5-6 days a week didn’t appeal. I had all the qualifications save one: I am not a guy! It was subtle but unmistakeably there in black and white. Without going into a whole theological dispute, I understand from where they are coming but I don’t entirely agree. I was just so surprised with transparent wording in a public post. Obviously not the place for me!

Dear Diary – Every. Freaking. Time.

You would think by now that I would have learned that I was not created to bake and all the wishes in the world cannot change that. My friend was lamenting another covid birthday without a birthday cake, so I (stupidly) offered to bake her one. She decided she would like a chocolate and vanilla marble cake. I have never made one before so it seemed a do-able challenge. Then she decided she’d rather have a banana tear-away cake. A tear-away cake is basically cupcakes iced together to look like a slab cake or a shape, like a race car. I may possess some artistic genes, but this one required a lot more thinking outside the box.

First, I researched. A rainbow cake with clouds used 68 cupcakes. Nope! An ice cream cone used as many or few as desired, but it needs a long platter. Nope! A bunny butt uses about 13 cupcakes. Tempting! I picked a pattern. I found and printed a recipe. And I thawed my 3 sad, black bananas.

Sunday morning after church, I embarked…only to discover that I was short 1/4 cup of margarine…and my only block of butter was frozen solid. Before covid, I would have felt compelled to get dressed and go to the store. Instead, I felt utterly defeated and slighly panicked as this cake needed to be delivered in 2 days!

By afternoon, the butter was ready but my heart was no longer in it. It took me over 2 hours to put it all together. I delivered it Tuesday afternoon, all hyped up on buttercream. She didn’t know what it was supposed to be…

And I didn’t even get to taste it….

Dear Diary – My birthday is sneaking up again. Last year, I was still enjoying an extended March Break at my parents’, which kinda let my guys off the hook. I ordered my birthday present and waited impatiently while the delivery company lied about the delivery date. I baked my own pink champagne sparkling wine cake (I wanted to bake it), after standing in line with scrawny, tattooed mountain men outside the liquor store.

And I savoured my first Tim Horton’s after a 40 day fast (not self-imposed)!!

I’m really not sure how we’re going to top that!

I gave Hubby my birthday list in plenty of time. I agree, it was pretty underwhelming. We’ll see if the delivery company can keep their promise this year.

Dear Diary – You know that feeling, when you do something spontaneous and then you think to yourself, “what have I done”? Dum, dum, dum…

Or maybe it’s dumb, dumb, dumb! Anyway, I applied to take an 8 week online course on writing humour. It’s being taught by one of The Arrogant Worms. When I asked Hubby what he thought about me taking a “humour course”, he said I could use some.

What’s even funnier is that I was accepted! Class starts Tuesday night.

Keep your sense of humor. As General Joe Stillwell said, ‘The higher a monkey climbs, the more you see of his behind’

Donald Rumsfeld