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Dear Diary – Who says you have to have alcohol to have fun? Just add chocolate!

One evening this week, Youngest Son asked me if I wanted to share his chocolate bomb. He was given a beautiful, handcrafted, semi-circular, dark chocolate bomb, drizzled in white chocolate, at Christmas. How this large, gorgeous chocolate piece remained under my radar for so long is truly a mystery!

Hubby recorded the transformation, and the hilarity that ensued after it was made…but I can’t post videos on WordPress. I can post it on Facebook but only my friends can see it, and I’m not changing the permissions because the world does not need to see what I did!

First I plunked the chocolate bomb in a clear mug and warmed the milk in the microwave. I used my lactose-free milk to minimize the…ah, negative effects on my body. My family thanks me. Pouring from a deep bowl into a mug was messy, and 1/3 of the milk dribbled on the counter. Hubby just rolled his eyes.

We watched in silent anticipation for something to happen. It didn’t. So I started gently submerging the bomb in the milk. Suddenly, hot chocolate powder started to spray across the top. After a couple more dunks, powder and marshmallows bubbled to the surface.

It was delicious. We split it 3 ways.

No weeping for shed milk.

James Howard

My 2L carton of lactose-free milk costs more than a 4L bag, so before Hubby could mop up the counter, I leaned it and started slurping. Except the sound wasn’t what you would expect. It was more like the high-pitched whine of a small engine, or as Oldest Son described it, “screws in a squeaky dryer”. Yes, Hubby recorded that too.

I didn’t realize he was recording until the second video where he stuck his phone by my face. I was laughing so hard, I had to turn my face away a couple of times before I could suck. I’d love to post the videos, not because I’d enjoy the humiliation, but to share the fun. The three of us watched it over and over and laughed so hard, we had tears running down our faces and I thought I was going to bust a gut. I’m not sure if they were laughing at the video or laughing at me, but we were laughing together. And that’s priceless.

Dear Diary – I’m not sure why, but it’s kind of reassuring that I’m still bendy enough to pee in the car. I went with Hubby to his second MRI (at the hospital where I just had my own fun experience), but with covid restrictions, I had to wait in the car. For an hour and a half.

Hubby kindly parked in the corner of the parking garage so I could have a view of the amusement park across the road. Too bad the roller coaster wasn’t running. It also meant I had natural light on 2 sides of the car so I could read or play on my phone. There was even free wifi. But there was no loo (and with my sore foot, I wouldn’t have made it to the hospital anyway)!

I had been so careful, even skipping my morning pot of tea. In theory, nothing went in so nothing should need to go out. Right? I was doing well at ignoring my bodily urges when Hubby texted that they were running late. Suddenly the prospect of waiting longer was too much and my body overruled my mind.

Trying to look casual, as in “nothing to see here” and covered in a blanket (because it’s still winter in Canada), I precariously perched over my empty Tim Horton’s coffee cup. Mission accomplished.

Hubby swung by Tim Horton’s on the way home. Empty coffee cup replaced. 😉

When I have to go, I have to go!

Dear Diary – We lost our phone connection Sunday evening and began the arduous task of getting it repaired. On the plus side, since Hubby had to remove the lattice on the back porch anyway, it was a good time for him to climb under and retrieve the butter knife I dropped last October. I was having an outside tea party with a friend. Three and a half hours after the phone was restored, the phone company texted to say the technician was on his way.

Dear Diary – The new sewing machine is working like a dream. I’m just scared to adjust any of the settings.

Almost finished

Dear Diary – Our covid numbers continue to climb, even without regular testing to document it accurately. Today a local doctor was recommending masks be mandated in public places and schools, and that bi-weekly rapid tests be conducted in schools. It’s news we’re not sharing with Youngest Son.

By today, we have to inform the school if he will spend Grade 12 in virtual school or in-person. If we don’t say, they will assume in-person. Youngest Son would prefer virtual school, but only the required courses will be offered online. It means he has to change 5 of the courses he has chosen, and he hasn’t found 5 courses he’d like to take instead. After being so careful for 2 years, we understand his concern. Hubby has also been summoned back to the office before the end of the month. With the mask mandates lifted and close quarters, he’s nervous too.

At the beginning of covid, we were suddenly thrust into living in close quarters. With Hubby taking over the dining room (which is also part of our living room), the main floor felt “off limits” during working hours. I had to tip-toe around the kitchen, and find things to do upstairs. Converting Youngest Son’s bedroom into my office/craft room was a great project. It also forced me to purge craft supplies, although I think there still a half ton of paper and stamps that could safely go.

I understand the importance of getting back to “normal” but this alternate lifestyle has become “normal”. At the beginning, it was like a new marriage as we rubbed against each other like two pieces of sandpaper, but once the hard work of adjusting was over, it wasn’t so bad. I will actually miss it.

After more than 2 years, I’ve grown accustomed to our routines. I like it when Hubby randomly “pops in” to say “hi”. I like having someone else around to answer questions, fill the bird feeder, and deal with spiders. Every time he yelled “Honey I’m home” from 12 feet away, I smiled. We ate on time. We had time for walks and quick kisses (& minecraft). I’m not sure my office will be used as much because being upstairs alone will feel, well, lonely. It will be another adjustment. When Youngest Son heads to university, it will be another adjustment. And when Hubby retires (if he ever can), it will be yet another adjustment. I guess it’s true – the only thing that stays the same is that nothing stays the same.

Dear Diary – You should always listen to your wife. After all the MRIs and other tests conducted on Hubby since his bizarre sleepwalking accident early in March, it was the CT scan done on his head the night of his accident that actually gives the clue as to why he continues to suffer with a nasty burning sensation in his forearms. That night, I called an ambulance. That night, the EMS asked Hubby if he wanted to go the hospital. He wasn’t sure. I said yes.

Sure, it’s very likely that tests would have led to this discovery, but it might have taken longer. I’m taking credit for this. Always. listen. to. your. wife. 😉

Dear Diary – Am I allowed to do some self-promotion?

I am, by no means, a gifted singer. I am not, nor have I been, nor shall I ever be the “cool kid”. But I was given the opportunity to work with some amazing musicians and technical folks at my church, and our music video has been posted publicly… so no one can really complain if I share it here. The song I led starts around 6 minutes, but I think you should check out the whole thing!

I felt awkward at the time. I feel awkward now. But it was never about looking “hot” or sounding “groovy”. It was about worship. I’ve heard there are plans in the works to record more, and I’m excited!

Dear Diary – I learned a new word, and with covid restrictions lifting and people leaving their houses again, it’s an action I’ll have to employ again. Actually, once Hubby goes back to work, I need to do a serious Spring cleaning!

Scurryfunge: A hasty tidying of the house when a last minute guest is coming to visit, as in:
“I scurryfunge every time my mother-in-law announces she’s popping round”.