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Dear Diary – I don’t understand. It’s not rocket science! I don’t understand… There are arrows at the end of every aisle AND on the floor! I know signs can be confusing so let me make it clear.  First, look for this symbol:


Then, walk in the direction the arrow is pointing.

If you need to go the other way, find another aisle with an arrow pointing the direction you want to go. I know you’ll feel like a mouse in a maze. After you’ve done it a few times, you’ll either have a panic attack or you’ll get used to it.

If it helps, I believe in you.

Dear Diary – Hubby was being sweet and letting others choose seminars at an online conference for work (he said he didn’t care that much but I still think he was being sweet). By the time everyone chimed in…they had all missed the deadline to register! Oops!

Dear Diary – Yesterday was Little Guy’s first foray into the post-Covid-19 world. He had to go to the high school to empty his locker and return his text books. I made him wear a blue mask and blue gloves – they matched his blue jeans and blue shirt.

He returned his books without incident. But he couldn’t remember his locker combination. I sent him back in to ask a teacher what to do, and texted Hubby to commiserate. Hubby texted me the combination (I had had the foresight to mark it on the fridge last September), but it was too late. Little Guy had disappeared within the bowels of the institution. He returned 10 minutes later with the contents of his locker. One blue pen.

Dear diary – I’m nearly finished painting the trim in the kitchen. Unfortunately the paint had the texture of glue and I will have to sand and repaint a large panel…perhaps in September. 

Dear diary – I baked another cake this week. It was a Madagascar bourbon vanilla cake. Before you get excited, it was a mix. I played with my icing colours though. If you ever need a cake decorated for a 3 year old girl or a circus clown, I’m your girl!

Dear Diary – I could hardly believe the language coming from the yard next door! I was furiously seeking to avenge my flowerbeds by ripping out invading weeds, when I heard words I never imagined I would hear. Our neighbour was outside with his little girl, Nugget, and he sternly uttered “no”, “stop”, and “that’s enough”. She was shrieking at every bug and piece of puff that passed her (which I kind of understand) and whining at Daddy, non-stop. She has no indoor voice. We can hear her whining through the walls , shrieking like someone is being murdered, and thundering around the house like a herd of elephants.

Perhaps Daddy got sick of it. Perhaps my early morning visit got him thinking. Or maybe the altercation Hubby had with Mommy over Nugget’s constant screaming (while Daddy smirked behind her) made him finally realize that there’s a time and place to be loud, and a time and place to be quiet.

Not only was I shocked (and highly impressed) that he spoke those words, but she listened. For awhile…then it began again and he took her inside. I mean, if the bugs are bugging her, it’s the wisest move.

Now if he could teach Mommy to have an indoor voice…