Dear Diary – Week 13, 2024

Tags

dear diary, family, humour, pets, sewing, singing

Dear Diary – In some part of the world, the number 13 is considered lucky, like Brazil. In Southeast Asia, it’s viewed as “luck or good fortune”, and in parts of Italy, it’s associated with the goddess of fertility and abundance. I view it as just another number.

The first day of Spring was celebrated this week, which could be considered good fortune. I don’t know too many people who enjoy all that Canadian Winter has to offer. Hubby and I enjoyed it with strong winds and heavy snow swirling around us. Hubby even consented to working from home, anticipating sketchy roads.

Which made his assent to picking up McDonald’s for dinner so confusing.

We braved the roads and they were far worse than anticipated. So were the drivers!! But we made it home, as documented by this photo, since I snapped it at home and not at a mechanics.

Welcome Spring!

That’ll teach me to mock the people who “flew south” to avoid bad weather…

Dear Diary – Why do we wait until funerals to catch up with old friends?

This weekend, I attended the visitation of a dear friend’s Mom. Oddly enough, it was the 5 year anniversary of this dear friend’s funeral. It was there I reconnected with someone from what feels like a former life. We’re going to try to meet for coffee in April.

We’re both scatter-brained, so it might be May.

Hopefully by then, the snow will be gone for good this time.

Dear Diary – Hubby got a new mouth guard and look, the dentist passed on the mold for it.

I’m so thrilled!

Dear Diary – I was on the worship team on Sunday and I blew it. The guitarist started the intro but at a different rhythm and it threw me off. So much so, I looked over at my iPad because I thought “did I hit the wrong song?”. My panic was captured on video and immortalized on Youtube. I started late…or was it early. By the chorus, I thought we were back on track and that we stayed that way for the rest of the song. The raised eyebrows of the guitar player as she turned and looked wide-eyed at the electric guitar player suggests, not.

I got through the first 2 songs. Relieved, I hit the button for the third song, which I was not leading, and turned the page. I was the only instrument for the intro…

Nausea washed over me as the countdown began and I had flipped to the last song.

Fortunately I remembered the first 3 chords so I started playing and tried to calmly flip back. I had time. Only I flipped back to song #2 again. I tried again, and again. And yet again. What was going on? One paperclip, attached to aid in page turning had shifted and was firmly clenching an extra page, like a person with diarrhea stuck in a long line for the bathroom.

It was as if my reoccurring nightmare was coming. Being on the platform during a service without music. At least in real life, I knew what song we were supposed to be doing. I just couldn’t get to it!

We were on page 2 by the time I managed to sort it out. Sweat was collecting in pools in my black Mary Jane’s. I think I saw people in the front row breathe a sigh of relief after watching my obvious distress and flurry of activity on the right side of my binder.

A new guy came up after the service to tell the other vocalist how awesome she is (and she is) and to ask how long she’s been leading. When he realized I was there within earshot, he grinned at me like he was smelling something rotten. Yeah, dude, I got it!

Do something awesome, nobody sees it. Do something embarrassing, everyone sees it.

Unknown

Dear Diary – When Dad started texting me about fabric, I knew exactly where he was: Hobby Lobby! I’ve never been but I’ve heard it’s a crafter’s paradise. Maybe this summer Mom and I can go “Thelma & Louise” (minus the sex and cliff diving) and go shopping!!

It isn’t the fall that kills you. It’s the sudden stop at the end.

Douglas Adams

Dear Diary – I went to Fabricland and exercised great control. I bought zippers and D-rings and webbing as planned. I had a list! I also bought fabric for a yoga bag and a scrub cap, but at 50% off. Unfortunately the strapping is the wrong size. I now have enough webbing to do 1 strap…on 2 different bags.

Dear Diary – I’ve heard of a cat in the hat, but not a cat in the sink!

Youngest Son has a new pet too.

Youngest Son’s bedroom screen has a hole in it, and someone has made a nest.

I’m guessing someone may have babies soon. No sleep for Youngest Son.

Dear Diary – Instead of trying a new recipe this week, I worked on technique by cooking beef filets in a cast iron frying pan. They were almost perfect!

Dear Diary – I joined my friend at her appointment for her next injection and training so she can do it on her own (she’s adamant she can’t). It turned out, it was also the nurse’s first time to do it too, so we all watched the video together. It’s way more complicated than mine. She has to load a device with a cartridge and then tape it to her body. The device does the rest.

Once it was all set up and the green light was flashing, it was go time. It poked her, which she said didn’t hurt, and then the device freaked out. So did we! It started beeping rapidly and flashing a red light, which meant the device had failed to deploy. The poor nurse turned white and dashed from the room to get her colleague. The device will have to be sent back to the manufacturer and my friend will have to wait for another to arrive.

My friend is trained now, but she definitely refuses to do it herself now!

Dear Diary – I’m not sure if I’m going to get Eldest Son and his girlfriend for a meal on Easter Sunday. I got a text last night for prayer because his girlfriend’s passport is missing. He’s spending the week in a tropical paradise with his girlfriend, her sister and her Mom. They can’t all afford to miss work and I don’t know if plane tickets can be deferred. What a mess!

But as a mutual friend said, “it’s not a bad place to be stuck for a few days”.

Dear Diary – I tried to renew prescriptions today but the auto-renew phone system didn’t like me. I put in my renewal number and hit # as directed. It told me my birth year didn’t match their records. It never asked for my birthdate.

It told me to try my birth year again. I did. It complained again (and it was rather snarky about it). I had to wait to talk to a real person.

Both should be ready today.

Dear Diary – Hubby decided he’d work from home today, rather than going in late and working late. He is planning to pick up Youngest Son after his class tonight, which ends at 10. I’m excited that Youngest Son wants to come home.

Initially Hubby had decided he’d go to work as usual and just find a parking lot to sleep in. I texted him, asked him if he really preferred a parking lot over being home with me?

It took him over an hour to respond.

Hubby is slightly better company than Angus these days. Angus rarely leaves his house and he’s booping it around less. I don’t know if he’s not feeling well, or after 3 weeks of daily antibiotics, he’s terrified I’m going to pick him up.

The other day I cut open one end of an empty cracker box, and cut a window in the other end. Angus won’t go in it, but I caught him napping outside it, with his nose in the window. Again, like a small child, if I can’t see you, you can’t see me.

Dear Diary – Mom accidentally bought decaf tea. The world might be ending.

It gets worse.

Youngest Son, who we’ve been harassing bugging asking for weeks to apply for Summer jobs, and who has been considering whether to work for a year or finish his college program next Fall, texted that he’d like to do summer school!

He’s getting along well with his roommates which is a blessing after so many years alone in his Batcave room, thanks to Covid shutdowns. Also, he wouldn’t have the stress of moving out. (Or getting a job!) He sounded good, like he’s thought about it and feeling positive. Yes, it negates getting a job but if he’s happy and doing something useful, it’s grand.

Dear Diary – I’m only fluent in 2 out of 3 languages: English and sarcasm. I need to work on keeping my mouth shut.

There’s even a warning in the Bible: Watch your tongue and keep your mouth shut, and you will stay out of trouble. (Prov. 21:23 NLT)

You’d think I’d learn, but here I am again. Hello Old friends, Rock and Hard place. 

Aynsley

Tags

#whatsinmycup, food, tea, tea addict, tea cups, tea history, tea lover, tea party, tea photography

John Aynsley founded his company in 1775 but it wasn’t formally registered as a pottery until 1810. The company began with clay pieces before introducing a line of silver luster ware. In the 1840’s, John Aynsley’s grandson became well-known for bone china pieces after he altered the manufacturing process, which resulted in a beautiful translucent, bright white china. This new porcelain was ideal for applying intricate designs and gilding.

The Portland Works was built in 1861 for producing fine bone china. And a commission from Queen Victoria for tableware authorized Aynsley to include the royal family’s seal in its maker’s mark. He also produced patterns to celebrate other royal occasions, including “Windsor”, chosen by Princess Elizabeth to mark her 1947 marriage. Aynsley also produced commemorative items for Prince William’s marriage in 2011 and the Queen’s Diamond Julilee in 2012.

In 1970, Aynsley was bought out by Waterford Glass. It was sold again in 1977 to Belleek Pottery in Northern Ireland. In 2014, Portland Works was decommissioned and production outsourced to China.

This beautiful burgundy and white footed tea cup, with a pink center rose and intricate gilding, was produced in the 1930’s.

A cup of tea is an excuse to share great thoughts with great minds.

Christina Re

Resources: Worthpoint

Dear Diary – Week 12, 2024

Tags

Bone scan, dear diary, family, food, humour, Julia Child, lactose intolerance, recipe, T.V. remote

Dear Diary – This week I had to go for a bone scan, and I decided to make a day of it with my friend. I showered and got dressed in my comfy stretchy clothes that don’t usually leave the house. I knew I couldn’t wear any metal. I also removed all my jewellery, with the exception of my tiny hoop earring. It’s a fight to get it back in. Even though I don’t have sausage fingers, it feels like I do. No, it would stay until I was told otherwise.

The other metal I had to ditch was my bra. Now, there are some women who prefer to go without any and every day. Most of them shouldn’t! Given a choice, I might choose to go without…at home. In public, I’m squarely in the Should. Not. category. My options were going without and risk rudely assaulting an unsuspecting victim when I walk by OR risk being seen naked in the tiny closet changeroom with the thin curtain that doesn’t close all the way. What to do?

However, I had an epiphany in the middle of the night when I was caught in the hour loop of blankets-on-blankets-off because I’m too-hot-too cold. I own a bralette. It’s a soft, stretchy, triangular, halter bra-like item of clothing that I purchased in the hopes of wearing under sundresses with spaghetti straps. But there are a couple problems with it. One, it’s not nearly stretchy enough and I nearly choke myself getting it around my neck and pulled into place. Two, the only support it really gives…is emotional.

I arrived on time for my appointment and was soon directed down a series of dreary beige corridors with harsh florescent lighting to a black plastic chair. Where I waited the inevitable.

I was soon ushered into a darkened room with a technician whose coffee mug was only half-empty. Need I say more. There, she imparted the life-changing, heart-shattering news that I should never exceed 4 cups of tea per day. Once (justifiably) scolded for indulging my vices carelessly, she told me lie down for the test.

What? No question about my jewelery or my undergarments? Nope. Only scanning from the waist down. All I had to remove was my coat and shoes. Here my boobs could have been safely stuffed like weapons in their storage case instead of bobbling like heads on a roller coaster?

Not cool.

The test was over in record time and my friend and I enjoyed a lovely day with tea and bagels, a successful shop, and a tiny walk. No bystanders were injured.

Dear Diary – March 14th was Pi day so I bought Hubby a tiny cherry pie for dessert.

If I love you, I show you I love you every day. Little things, big things.

Dwayne Johnson

Dear Diary – If I have to come out of early retirement, I may have a new career path. Even better than the last one and it was a doozy! 😉

Julia Child, before mastering the art of French cooking, worked as a covert operative for the precursor to the CIA…cooking up shark repellent. It was used to deter sharks who were unwittingly detonating underwater explosives meant for U-boats. Her recipe saved the day.

I’m pretty sure I’ve concocted some dishes that would serve the same purpose.

I recently cooked pork chops in the air fryer crusted in delicious spices. The pork chops were really juicy. I have avoided pork chops for some time because they always end up tough like shoe leather. No amount of creamy mashed potatoes can salvage them. Hubby really liked them, but I found them dangerously spicy. I had to satisfy myself with sweet potato and broccoli for dinner.

I can’t speak for the sharks.

“My first big recipe was shark repellant that I mixed in a bathtub for the Navy, for the men who might get caught in the water.”

Julia Child

Dear Diary – Finally! It has been a bone of contention between Hubby and I for quite some time, and this was one fight I felt obligated to win. Sure, it meant frustration and tongue-biting on a daily basis. I could have just given up and done the job myself, but then I feel like I’m always the who gives in and gets the job done. No, I was determined to outwait him so he did the job.

Our new t.v. remote has arrived and it is spectacular. I can fast-forward through commercials in PVRd shows rewind 10 seconds because Hubby looked away and missed a key clue. I can change channels or delete recordings without mashing the same button 15 times while waving the remote like a mad magician. I still can’t adjust the volume- that’s a bridge too far – but it has taken the stress out of watching television, and the stress out of our marriage!

Dear Diary – I took Hubby to McDonald’s for Shamrock Shake to celebrate St. Patty’s Day, seeing as he’s actually Irish (and not just with Irish relatives who moved here generations ago like me). Before you ask, yes we wore green. I wore my new green shirt dress and Hubby, who doesn’t like green so owns nothing green, wore his sloth socks…because they had some green.

Shamrock Shakes were first introduced in 1970 and since McDonald’s was the only fast-food restaurant growing up (unless Dixie Lee counts), it was a big deal when I was a kid. Hubby was really looking forward to it (I was looking forward to strawberry because mint doesn’t like me).

The shakes…were “unavailable”. ON St. Patrick’s Day!

We both had strawberry.

Dear Diary – There are leggings and there are leggings.

My friend and I both bought leggings on sale, same style, same colour, but different brands.

She called me soon after I arrived home to tell me that she couldn’t even get the leggings over her knees and I would be inheriting them. They were a size larger than I normally wear but I was willing to try.

I got them on. Barely. They were too snug at the waist, but so loose at the ankles.

I’ve been frustrated before because, although there’s a recognized standard for sizing, manufacturers fail to use it. Is it a tactic to ensure we spend more money trying to find the perfect size? Did they just copy and paste a chart that “looked good” onto their packaging, hoping we’d be dazzled by pretty picture on the front? That picture, of course, being a perky 18 year old with no cellulite or stretch marks. What bozo created the charts in the first place?

We couldn’t return the leggings but we could exchange them…once. My friend was reluctant, understandably so, to try again. Especially with no recourse. So I exchanged them…for a very loose white cotton top…to go with my leggings that fit just right (over my sizable bottom).

Dear Diary – My friend believes if I ingest more calcium-rich foods, I could enjoy that 5th cup of tea a day. Pretty sure it doesn’t work that way, but more calcium is still a good idea. But it’s a hard one to accomplish because I’m lactose intolerant, and I’ll be honest, after getting a calcium pill for Clydesdales painfully stuck in my esophagus for nearly an hour, I’m resistant to the idea. She suggested lactose-free yogurt.

I empathize with those who have food allergies and intolerances, because just like fashion, there’s always an delectable smorgasbord of options for “normal” people, while the rest are doomed to sample cardboard textures and wear unflattering silhouettes. In the grocery store before me, there were shelves upon shelves of yogurt cups in refrigerators the length of a city block. In every flavour imaginable.

Except lactose-free (which really isn’t free. They don’t take lactose out…they add stuff to aid digestion).

All I could find was plain…in plain white plastic cartons with black writing. They didn’t even try to make it look appetizing. Plain. Flavourless. White.

Now before you suggest I “add jam”…I took a tragic tumble off my bike when I was a pre-teen. Don’t worry…my face broke my fall. The fall broke my front teeth. I spit gravel for months and couldn’t open my jaw for weeks. So Mom gave me yogurt. Plain yogurt. With jam. I will honestly say, there is no jam in the world that will ever make plain yogurt palatable.

I know flavour for non-diary nerds like me exist. And I am making it my mission to find said yogurt.

Even though I really hate yogurt.

(But I hate it less than Clydesdale pills.)

Life is half delicious yogurt, half crap, and your job is to keep the plastic spoon in the yogurt.

Scott Adams

What’s In My Cup: Very Cherry

Tags

#whatsinmycup, food, humour, tea, tea addict, tea lover, tea review, tea time, what's in my cup

I’ve been a bad girl!

According to the stern technician who performed my bone scan last week, I shouldn’t drink more than 4 cups of caffeinated tea (which includes black, green, white, pu’er, oolong, etc.) per day!

Moment of silence…

Ok, so now I have yet another reason to cut back on my biggest vice: bone health. It’s going to take some time.

Since green tea has less caffeine, I thought I’d try adding it in place of my preferred titanium-strength black elixir of magic. And I’ve done it with Very Cherry. In addition to green tea, it has apple, hibiscus, moringa leaf, lemongrass, natural cherry flavour, tomato, sour cherry, pomegranate petal, and stevia extract. Moringa is a plant native to Southeast Asia and is purported to have many health benefits, including a couple that could good for me…like protecting the liver and reducing inflammation. More studies are being conducted to ascertain the value of this edible plant.

This green tea base is very true to its name – it’s a bright, sweet, tart, pop of colour flavour in a tea cup! I’m just sorry it’s a “sample pack” and I currently can’t order more. I’ll be keeping my eyes open for sure. The colour was rosy and the smell, mouth-watering!

Hot or cold, this tea is the cherry on top!

Life is like a bowl of cherries. A little sour and a lot sweet.

Unknown

Dear Diary – Week 11, 2024

Tags

cooking, dear diary, family, food, humour, midlife crisis, movies, music, recipe, time change, worship

Dear Diary – Well, despite the cataclysmic head lines warning us of impending volcanic eruptions, nuclear war, Disease X, and the rise of the machines, I made it to week 11 of 2024.

Barely.

First, even the weather reports have become more and more creative. This week we’ve been told to expect “whiplash weather” and it’s certainly been crazy so far this year. We’ve gone from genuine t-shirt and shorts weather (which for some crazy Canucks start as soon as the snow starts to melt) to snow pants and mitten weather. And within days, we’re back again. Whiplash indeed!

I’m really hoping we have great weather on April 8th because we’re set to witness a full solar eclipse. In ancient times (way before I was born even), eclipses were seen as bad omens. Maybe I should stockpile some chocolate just in case.

As luck would have it, one of the best viewing areas in the country is right where I grew up. I don’t need a reason to visit my folks, but now, we’re having a Party! Do you what we should serve at this party? Half moon cakes and Oreo cookies. Think about it…

I think this is my first March Break in over 30 years with no kids. I don’t like it. I miss piling in the car and heading to my folks for movies with popcorn, and family games at the dining table. Does “Reading Week” count as March Break? In which case, I just had it with Youngest Son.

Sunday morning ushered in Daylight Savings Time and I was on the worship team, a worship team of 2 because it’s March Break for all the kiddies in school. I’ve been praying for all the parents, even more as the week draws to a close. Whether travelling or not, the additional togetherness and the impending restart of the final chapter of Grade X, certainly means frazzled and frayed nerves.

I was up at 5:30 a.m. (old time) after a fairly sleepless night worrying about my alarm going at the right time, so I could look human even if I didn’t feel like it get dressed and arrive at church on time. In the past, my alarm clock has been unpredictable. One year, it changed on a Wednesday 2 weeks before the time change. I had no idea, so woke feeling strangely refreshed. I got ready for work and came down to Youngest Son watching cartoons on t.v.

“Am I going to school today?”, he asked.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t you?, “I queried.

“Because it’s already after 9 o’clock”.

I think that was the fastest I ever hustled him out the door. We were both late.

Anyway, my clock didn’t change so I’m glad I used my phone as a back-up. I’m just worried that it will spontaneously change again and I’ll be late for something. Ah…technology. Just wait until my clock has AI. It might choke me in my sleep.

Everything that could go wrong before the service, probably did. My pastor and sidekick was single-parenting last week with 3 kids on March Break. Don’t feel too sorry for him…he got to go scuba diving in Thailand last October. I helped his daughters peel their oranges so he could run around like a crazy person trying to fix a video camera and an iPad that weren’t working, and to find essential and missing pieces of equipment. Someone recently did an over-efficient job of tidying up. cleaned up too good! Then the internet crapped out.

By the time we finally got to run through our music (not having had a weekly rehearsal because single-parenting…), including an experimental “mash up” of 2 songs, we were almost out of time. And breath.

The service itself went smoothly, except the PPT guy wasn’t always on the ball. Which is a problem.

I know the words. Stress-free, I could sing the whole song cold. But sometimes when I get nervous, my mind goes blank and I forget the words. That’s why there’s a screen at the front and back. I should be able to rely on the words at the back, except when they don’t show up. I mumbled something a couple times, and repeated words on a bridge, frantically scanning the music on my stand to help out while trying not to look like I’m panicking. What was important was that I kept going.

Like there was a choice.

Maybe he needed more caffeine too.

I worried the most about our closing song, Grace to Grace by Hillsong. It’s a beautiful song, but there’s one big reason I haven’t picked it before. It has a range of an octave plus 2, somewhere between Johnny Cash and Mariah Carey. I had to choose the key signature carefully. Was it better to sing in the basement and be ok on the top end, or be ok at the front end and sing so high only dogs could hear me?

I had to choose Johnny over Mariah so I can promise no dogs were harmed (or skinny pigs since Angus endured several key signature tests). (Gluttons for punishment can hear the trainwreck service on Youtube. Grace to Grace is around the 1:09 mark, complete with mumbles, wrong words, and frantic searching).

Dear Diary – It felt like the opening scene of a crime drama. Night. Three women laughing and talking as they exit a building when they suddenly stop to listen. A coyote howls in the field next door. It’s close, very close. The women tense. Another coyote answers it, also very nearby. The women exchange glances, bid each other goodnight and hurry to their cars. Cue music…

Dear Diary – It’s the 27th anniversary of the release of the Return of Jedi Special Edition. It was scheduled to be released March 7, 1997 but it got pushed back to the 14th. Did you know that Mark Hamill didn’t see Star Wars until he was in it?

Dear Diary – Today I tried coq au vin and it was really good. It tasted like…beef. The vapours from the red wine were really good too. I mean, I wasn’t dumb enough to stick my head over the pot and inhale. That would just burn.

Is it possible to get hammered cooking with wine? I mean, besides if you drink it. Apparently the answer is yes. And, inhaling alcohol vapours can make you drunk quicker because it is absorbed into your bloodstream and goes straight to your brain. Scientific tests have also shown that eating foods prepared with alcohol can also make you drunk.

I rarely consume alcohol (and now my medication says I can’t at all), so just smelling the cork used to be enough to make me happy. Hubby noticed he could smell the wine, strongly, and once he mentioned it, I realized I did feel a bit light-headed. Was it just the power of suggestion? Probably.

Dear Diary – This evening I drove to the church to play work with pool noodles, hockey tape and spray paint. I’m helping with a strange, but strangely working, concept for an Easter decoration. That’s all I’m allowed to say. 🙂

Dear Diary – I just happened to be walking toward the front door seconds before Hubby came in from a long day at work. Since he’s always saying misses the thundering greetings he used to get from our little boy, I met him at the door, standing coyly with arms behind back, swinging my shoulders and smiling sweetly.

He was surprised when he opened door and then he burst out laughing. He said he wasn’t really laughing at me , but because it fit with a joke he had just heard on the radio.

The Joke

So, a guy comes in the door from work and the wife says, “Tsk. You love dog more than me”.
“Well”, says the guy, ” you don’t come to the door wagging your tail when I get home from work”.

Dear Diary – Sometimes there’s a nugget of pure gold in the middle of a “Meh” movie, a great, relatable quote that’s worth writing down and sharing with someone else, who will also relate and laugh with you.

In the movie, Burn After Reading, Linda Litzki, a single, middle-aged employee at a gym, tries desperately to find the money for plastic surgery. Her reasons:

I’ve gone just about as far as I can go with this body. I would be laughed out of Hollywood…I have limited breasts, a ginormous a*#, and this gut that swings back and forth in front of me like a shopping cart with a bent wheel.

What’s In My Cup: Lemon Meringue

Tags

#whatsinmycup, food, humour, lemon, tea, tea addict, tea lover, tea review, tea time

The sun is shining today, which is awesome, because yesterday Daylight Savings Time kicked in and we’re all feeling like we’ve been kicked! I had to get up at 5:30 (old time) after a fairly sleepless night worrying about my alarm going at the right time, so I could look human even if I didn’t feel like it get dressed and help lead worship at church. I spent the remainder of my Sunday in a daze, enjoying a hearty dinner at McDonald’s and falling into bed early.

Where I lay awake for hours.

Irony: a state of affairs or an event that seems deliberately contrary to what one expects and is often amusing as a result.

Needless to say, I started my day with something strong. That’s why I’m enjoying some sunshine in a cup this afternoon of David’s Tea: Lemon Meringue.

It’s a new flavour to David’s and arrived in a recent order. In fact, it arrived a day early, just in time to go with me to my folks for Youngest Son’s Reading Week. Mom and I sampled it during a family game of Play 9. (Maybe it has special powers because I had the best score!)

It’s on my “must have list” now, not just because I won, but because it has a winning flavour. It promised Lemon Meringue and it delivered. I get Lemon meringue pie. I get lemon cotton candy. I get lemon taffy. It’s sweet, it’s creamy, it’s citrusy, it’s tart. I do think the lemon could be a bit more pronounced, but based on the fact that this tea does not boast any lemon, I’m amazed at how great they mimicked lemon!

This tea has a white tea base. White tea is much more delicate than green or black tea. The leaves are usually hand-plucked before they open fully and they are not fermented at all, which means they retain three times more beneficial antioxidant properties than green tea. Antioxidants help strengthen the immune system. A cup of white tea contains approximately 12 times as many antioxidants as fresh orange juice and contains less caffeine than green tea.

The tea also has apple, candied pineapple, rosehip peel, sweet blackberry leaves, white tea, green tea, and yuzu, but no additional sugar. Yuzu is a yellow citrus fruit, indigenous to Asia. It gives a beautiful citrus note, like a mix of lemon, mandarin, lime and grapefruit in one, along with a savoury, herbaceous quality. It has many of the same benefits as citrus fruits, including lowering inflammation, reducing cholesterol, and boosting heart health.

Plus the smell alone makes my mouth water. And the bright, lemon colour makes me happy! Sunshine in a cup…perfect for a sleepy day. Happy Monday!

Some old fashioned things like fresh air and sunshine are hard to beat.

Laura Ingalls Wilder

Dear Diary – Week 10, 2024

Tags

dear diary, family, food, humour, midlife crisis, pets, Spring

Dear Diary – I was serious when I said “if this Mama can’t wear heels anymore, she’s wearing army boots”!

Dear Diary – My Mom has been raving about the local fish ‘n chip place in town, for weeks, especially now that I’ve tested not allergic to fish (though I am still intolerant and also I don’t like them). But I went out with my folks, Youngest Son, and Auntie M for dinner on my recent visit.

I had a cheeseburger.

Dear Diary – It was the strangest thing. On the way home from my folks, I gassed up part way, as usual. But then my car refused to start. I had to try several times, the feeling of dread creeping up my body like a cold draft. I finally convinced it to go and I kept it running while I hit the loo and grabbed tea, and when I picked up Angus’ antibiotics.

It would have been a long walk home.

It’s been fine since but I’m scared to drive too far from home. If it does break down, I better be near food and a bathroom.

Angus has done extremely well with taking his medications. Sometimes I don’t even have to pick him up to do administer it. So much better than the first time, when he ended up wearing some of it like lipstick, chicken flavoured lipstick!

I think it made him dopey at first. He was just like a little kid, if I can’t see you, you can’t see me…and then he’d fall asleep.

So close, Buddy.

Saturday was our last night with Youngest Son and I wanted to make a nice dinner, something he wouldn’t make for himself. Which is pretty much anything. I decided to make chicken stew and dumplings.

I got the stew started and Hubby took over.

In his defence, I left him unattended.

I could hear that it was bubbling, obviously too hot, but I had passed the responsibility to him and assumed he was taking care of it. I didn’t pay attention to the fact that he was sitting in the next chair over…until I could smell burning.

The stew tasted scorched. The dumplings tasted scorched. Ketchup helped…not at all. I was so disappointed. Youngest Son thought it was great…mostly because he didn’t have to cook it. And, no fire alarms went off.

Apparently that’s still happening regularly in his residence.

We left later than planned Sunday afternoon to return him to school, buying groceries there and meeting Oldest Son and his girlfriend for a late lunch…or early dinner.

The sun was setting behind a layer of cloud by the time we hit the highway coming home. Gloaming. It was a word that sprang to mind as it was neither day nor night, but this place of in-between. I had a good talk with Youngest Son recently and it perfectly describes where he is at the moment. Neither a child nor an adult. Uncertain if the path he’s currently on is the one he wants to take. The future is obscured with fear and doubt. He may well have a period of “night” to traverse before he finds his way. I trust that God will “make his paths straight” if Youngest Son just keeps listening.

Then my mind drifted to a song my Mom used to sing at the campfire. Sometimes we’d sing it as a round:

Fire’s burning, fire’s burning.
Draw nearer, draw nearer
In the gloaming, in the gloaming
Come sing and be merry

The simple reminder that music and light pierce darkness brought me comfort and I sang it in my head all the way home. I even sang it as a round.

Dear Diary – Lab Technicians: Spending their days aiding in detecting cancer early and saving lives. It sounds so much more noble and dignified than I play with people’s poo water .

Here I am, now at the age when the poking and prodding really starts. Only this prodding I had to do on my own with a little plastic stick and a step-by-step guide in pictures. It was like assembling Ikea furniture, but with the end result being neither attractive nor useful. Unless you count detecting cancer. No, there’s nothing dignified about hovering over a “paper towel” dropping a deuce. I felt like a pigeon aiming at a mini cooper in the parking lot. There’s also no easy way to do it and not defile the sample with urine. It might be easier for a guy. Someone I know found out the hard way that taking the test is a bad idea in an auto-flush toilet. The one time you don’t want it to whoosh as you’re standing up.

When all was said and done, wishing I could bleach the memory as easily as I bleached the bathroom floor, I took my screaming yellow envelope containing my deposit for the noble lab tech for a ride in the car. Then a stroll through the cosmetics aisle before handing it over to post office clerk. She gave me a knowing look as she dropped it in the box with her finger tips.

And thus, I scratched one odd job off my to-do list.

Dear Diary – We broke a 50 year old temperature record this week at 16C! I saw more white legs in one day than I have in the last 6 months. I wasn’t brave enough to sport bare legs but I did venture out in a dress and a sweater. I had to ditch the sweater in the store. I was too hot.

On the way home, I even saw some folks out raking their yards and cleaning out flower beds. I felt like stopping them to remind them that it’s still March and we could get snow. Not only could that affect their blooms, but it disturbs habitats where bees and butterflies are hibernating. I know the brown gunk is unattractive but our friendly insects would appreciate if we didn’t disrupt their slumber just yet.

The biggest lie I tell myself: Just 5 more minutes.

Unknown

Dear Diary – This week’s recipe was Cauliflower Steaks. Why do vegetarians call it steak? Why liken it to the very category of food that they choose not to ingest? One is certainly not a replacement for the other. They look nothing alike. The only similarities I can see is that they can be seasoned similarly and you need a knife and fork to eat it. I followed the above recipe but also added paprika and a little garlic powder. It was very tasty and the lemon juice gave it a surprising brightness. So often I discard the larger, stumpier sections because they’re too tough to eat raw and take longer to steam, leaving the delicate flowerets soggy. This was a delicious way to honour the whole vegetable.

Our “steak” was actually the side dish, served with ham and leftover spaghetti, but it was certainly the star of the meal.

My Dad would not approve. He doesn’t like cauliflower. I think he was secretly proud of Angus when I told him Angus also does not like cauliflower. It’s the only veggie I’ve seen Angus curl his lip at, and while I didn’t witness it, he forcefully ejected it from his home.

Don’t worry, Dad. If I cook you steak, it will be the kind that used to moo.

Know why cows have hooves instead of feet?
Because they lactose

What’s In My Cup: Honey Lemon

Tags

#whatsinmycup, food, humour, tea, tea addict, tea lover, tea review, tea time

As so often happens, the day starts out with good intentions and then “the plan” changes. Not all changes are bad, especially if you can be patient and just “go with the flow”.

Today was one of those days.

I couldn’t sleep last night so I made a list of things I really needed to accomplish this week. The list was broken up into a) house/cleaning jobs, b) Etsy business jobs, and c) To-Do jobs. I started the day with completing my Bible study homework and performing a medical test, which I immediately dropped at the post office, where I also picked up my prescription. I was home by lunchtime and ready to write the tea review, which had been bouncing around my brain as my car bounced along the road.

Computer booting up and hot tea in hand, I grabbed the ringing phone on my way to the couch. It was my friend. Did I want to go for tea since it was such a beautiful day?

So I gave Angus his medicine and hopped back in the car. And since we were right beside the grocery store, we hopped over there, after tea, and I got that TO-DO item done too. Groceries weren’t on the agenda for today so hopefully I got everything because I didn’t have a list! 😉

And what better way to end a productive day…than with a hot cup of tea.

Having slept poorly the night before and with a full pot still steeping at home, I elected to try something herbal. My intended review (now for next week) involved lemon, so I decided to try Tim Horton’s Honey Lemon tea. It smells delicious – like lemony honey (go figure), but is actually quite floral tasting, which was not what I was expecting. It’s not perfumey though because it has a bright, tart lemon acidity that sparkles on the tongue, and a sweet aftertaste. Even though it’s a clear tea, it has a creamy texture and makes me think of lemon and vanilla pudding.

It probably didn’t help that it steeped a long time!!

The ingredients listed are herbs, lemon and natural flavour. Goodness knows what that means! It was a little bit artificial, however it was a nice change and I could see it being a comfort drink if I were out and feeling under the weather.

Generally, I’ll stick to my usual: Large. Steeped Tea. Black.

God’s plans for your life far exceed the circumstances of your day.

Louie Giglio

Dear Diary – Week 9, 2024

Tags

body image, dear diary, diary, family, food, humour, March Break, midlife crisis, pets, shopping

Dear Diary – Squirrels are jerks!

Dear Diary – This week’s recipe was a double crust chicken pot pie.

Life is too short to make pie crust. I used frozen store-bought pie shells. But the rest was delicious and I saved the broth from the chicken for soup another day. I have some interesting recipes to try!

Dear Diary – I have now been properly introduced to my new fur grandbaby, Webster. We visited the boys on the weekend, and not just because there weren’t enough chairs to go around, but because I wanted to create a special bond with my grand-cat, I sat on the floor.

It was a good move. Webster immediately warmed up to me (and why shouldn’t he? I adore cats and he deserves to be adored) for belly rubs and chin scratches. He is settling nicely into his new abode and has a calm and pleasant demeanor. I can’t imagine why anyone would abandon him? I think they’ll be best buds!

I’m thankful Eldest Son adopted a cat.

His new bunk mate could be so much worse.

In 2017, a woman adopted a pet python. They seemed so compatible that they even slept together every night. Occasionally, he’d wake her by slithering over her, but he never snored.

One day, he stopped eating. Eventually she took him to the vet. It turns out her new found friend was preparing himself for a big meal, and the slithering? He was measuring his Happy Meal.

My little pork bun, Angus, recently went to the vet because he has a swollen toe. By the time he had been weighed and examined, he was shaking like a little brown leaf. He was more than content to snuggle in my lap.

The x-ray showed us the news isn’t good. It looks like the bone is deteriorating and it could be arthritis, an infection, or cancer. We were sent home with a pain killer and he’ll start antibiotics on the weekend.

Angus purred when I released him in his castle, and continued to purr as he explored his domain. He did not purr when I picked him up to drug him. But after a couple of days, he’s decided that his chicken flavoured pain killer is pretty good (it really does smell like chicken). Which bodes well for the next medication.

Maybe it will taste like pork.

Angus purred again when he was set free at Nanny’s house after a long, bumpy car ride. We started the trip down in a thunderstorm with driving rain and heavy traffic, but the weather cleared just as the traffic did. While Youngest Son slept next to me, his chin resting on his backpack, I entertained myself by singing along to the radio and noting odd things, like the garbage truck with “Think Green” in thick font gracing its sides. A great slogan for a waste company…except the truck was pepto-bismal pink.

It’s Spring Break! But unlike my Spring Break of 1992…

…there’s no snow. We’ve had an incredibly warm winter and I’ve noticed even the geese are confused by the weather. I’ve seen large flocks flying in every direction. In addition to be unusually mild, the temperature has also had wider temperature swings than a peri-menopausal woman. Case in point, the temperature dropped from 13C to -13C yesterday and had we been a little closer to the beginning of March, we could say it roared in like a lion.

Or a steam engine.

The way the wind whistled around the house, it sounded just like that. I ‘ve had plenty of exposure to steam engines because my Dad is a huge fan!

The sun was shining today but the wind was strong enough to strip a turtle of its shell. That didn’t stop Mom and I from hitting the Mall! That’s why I’m late today, dear diary. I was trying on dresses, tops, pants and jeans, and trying really hard not to look in the mirror between costume changes. I hardly recognize my reflection.

Just for fun, we also looked at bathing suits, and while I saw many colours and styles that I liked, I’m not sure I’d like them on me. Also, I’m still traumatized from the one dressing room that had mirrors on multiple sides. So. Much. Flesh. And it was chilly in the Mall. AND, I gave up sweets for Lent, including chocolate.

No chocolate + bathing suit = meltdown of apocalyptic proportion.

I started this blog joking that I was in control of my mid-life crisis. I was determined to have fun. But lately, between the pandemic, the arthritis, the new medications and the consequential weight gain, I have experienced a crisis of sorts. My head rationalizes the changes and is trying to understand how to dress it nicely, but a part of me is still confused how it happened so fast. I am also aware that I’m more critical of myself so what I see isn’t what others see.

It’s going to take a little time.

It feels like all my clothes shrunk in a short span of time, and trying to find affordable replacements that are figure flattering and not figure hugging, has been an undertaking. Clothing for full-figured gals are usually too big; everything else is the size of postage stamps. Crop tops, for example. Or enter the other extreme, wide-legged jeans that just make a short person look like a solid concrete barrier. Elasticized waists can add shape, but round is not a shape I want to emphasize. I’d consider sewing my own clothes, but patterns and fabrics cost as much as store bought clothing and they have less of a “dog ate it” a much neater finish.

I know in my head that the number on the tag is just that – a number – but it feels like it doubles every time I shop. Which isn’t often because who can afford a whole new wardrobe.

MSN posted an article with 8 things that make losing weight easier after 50. They advised more protein, fiber and water, consistent meal schedules (which probably doesn’t include regular donut stops), and prioritizing high quality sleep (afternoon naps in front of Escape to the Country didn’t count). Stressing over the number on the scale is a no-no because hormones, exercises, and stress itself can make that little number flutter. Finally, find an exercise routine you love.

Physical activity remains vital as you age,
and it’s important that you enjoy how you move your body. 

Brittany Lubeck, Registered Dietian

I know how my body moves: slowly. It’s often accompanied by sounds of moans, groans, creaks and cracks. I have an exercise routine I love. I bought it online during Covid. It’s still in the cellophane package though. My body fell apart before I could try it. Does it still count?

Heat makes things expand…so I don’t have a weight problem. I’m just HOT!

Dear Diary – Week 8, 2024

Tags

family, food, humour, pets, recipes, tea, work

Dear Diary – We heard something crash, but despite our investigation, we found no source.

Until the next day.

It wasn’t the shard of broken glass on the bottom shelf that I noticed first, but the thick puddle of brown under the crisper drawers and up the back of the fridge. Then the green glass shard. I thought something had punctured the bottle of apple cider so my eyes scanned upwards for the sourse.

It wasn’t apple cider. It was coke.

Only one of three bottles froze, and how it got wedged at the back like that, where it exploded and showered every surface, I will never know.

Dear Diary – Lemon Pixie Cookies took me more than the estimated 10 minutes to put together, even if I hadn’t stopped to rearrange the freezer, dig through the junk drawer to find my zester, and combine 2 half bags of icing sugar (after sifting 1 cup that apparently I didn’t need), all while verbally comforting a whiny piggy who heard sounds in the kitchen and had high hopes.

I crushed those hopes just like I crushed my lemon. I now have lots of fresh lemon juice (but no recipe) because I only needed 2 teaspoons for this one. The recipe was supposed to make 10 small cookies…I got 9. But they were tart and lemony as promised. And a little bit nutty, just like their baker.

I also tried pink marshmallow squares which I’ve been thinking about for months. I wasn’t sure if I really had had them as a kid or if I just dreamed them.

I got the recipe from Mom at Christmas, and it wasn’t a cheaty recipe that used Jell-O. Nope…homemade marshmallow with sugar and gelatine powder, just like the ”60’s.

Groovy!

I thought they’d be a perfect addition to a tea-themed Ladies Craft ‘n Chat. I also salvaged the blueberry scones I baked at the wrong temperature, and I made cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches.

We had real goodies, real loose leaf tea, and real tea cups…and some real classy ladies. I was just disappointed that there weren’t more. During Covid shutdown, I had so many ladies emailing me, lamenting that we couldn’t get together. Many of them begged to be told when things started again. I can’t help but wonder where are they now?

Be a girl with a mind, a woman with attitude, and a lady with class.

Unknown

Dear Diary – I bought a used green screen so I can take bikini photos and add a beach background. Just kidding! I’m hoping to improve photos for my etsy shop. Now if I could just improve my figure so I could model those shots…

Dear Diary – Family day was spent…without family. But I did talk to my Mom, and Eldest Son called to let us know his family is expanding.

Nope! Not by marriage. By adoption.

I’m really excited for him.

And a little jealous too. I’ve been begging for a cat for over 20 years. To comfort myself, I cuddled Angus. He snuggled in sweetly…and peed on me. First I had to catch his. He has figured out that, after I’ve removed all the hiding places, he can simply stand in the middle of his cage and I can’t reach him. He openly and smugly mocks me too: “Ha Ha. Mom can’t reach me with her little T-Rex arms”.

Eldest Son is planning a tropical vacation soon and I have no idea what he’s going to do with his cat. We could take him for the week, but I’m concerned he’d view Angus less as a potato, and more as a pork bun.

How are you holding up? Because I’m a potato!

GlaDos, Portal 2

Dear Diary – I’ve harped on it many times before: Kindness matters.

I’m frustrated on Hubby’s behalf because he’s struggling with a co-worker who is disrespectful and critical of his teammates. He’s an arrogant know-it-all. We all know the type.

It’s hard not to get hot under the collar when someone is disrespectful in the workplace, and it’s getting worse. Managers are experiencing a new form of disrespect: being snubbed by candidates who accepted job offer and bail, or just never appear. In one study, more than 43% of Gen Z employees (>22) admit they’ve done just that. The term “ghosting” first appeared in the online dating world, but it’s bleeding into other facets of life.

While I think it shows a lack of respect among younger workers, some argue the behaviour is “predictable” because this generation has less financial restrictions, like a mortgage, and family responsibilities.

I wonder if it’s also helicopter parents giving too much support and freedom. And kidults who are willing to soak their parents to feed their insatiable pleasures. Just watch a few episodes of Snowflake Mountain on Netflix, and hang your head in sorrow. (Sorry, my babies, Mommy won’t be leasing you a 2025 Mercedes or covering your credit cards’ debts).

Youngest Son is not keen to get a Summer job and he’s been ghosting us too. I admit, while I’m trying to respect his reasoning, I’m kinda ticked off. And I worry that my example, (i.e., being home rather than working), sets a bad example. Even though my reasons for being home are largely due to physical challenges. And while I worked outside the home when he was younger, he never experienced long days stuck in childcare. He’s never spent 3 hours on a train every day, to earn a paycheck for groceries and rent. He doesn’t yet know the struggle to balance college, and work, and family life. I can tell him about living and studying in a hospital while Eldest Son recovered from surgery…during exams, or how exhausting it was to work all week and spent every Saturday in lectures, but it doesn’t have much impact. I couldn’t have done any of it without the grace of God and a lot of help from my family.

On the flipside, I respect those who are working hard to put themselves through school or who are working 2 and 3 jobs to support their families. They aren’t blessed to have my family. I know Eldest Son works hard, and I often wish we could make it rain money for him. I know he’d love to buy a house, own his own patch of land. It’s hard to make compost and grow veggies in an apartment, and forget pursuing a hobby in woodworking! My castle certainly isn’t what I imagined growing up, but with house prices rising 40% (2016-2021) and the new homes being purchased by investors, not owners, the possibility of home ownership for him gets smaller.

No matter how respectful or hard-working he is.

Life is certainly full of challenges, unique to every generation, but never has it been an excuse to be disrespectful. And with all respect, I’m speaking to every generation.

I was on the brink of screaming yesterday in the grocery store because I felt so overwhelmed. I was trying to pack my groceries quickly. My friend was trying to pack her groceries in the queue beside me. The cashier was ringing through the next couple, piling their groceries in my friend’s queue. The much older lady was standing beside me, blocking me so I couldn’t go pay. She huffed when I asked her to excuse me. While I was paying, the older lady went around by my friend to secure her groceries. But instead of bagging from the side, where she had lots of space, she started physically elbowing my friend out of the way so she could have the whole backside of the queue. My friend wasn’t done bagging her groceries yet, and was now elbowing me. My outspoken friend politely asked “could you wait a moment so I can finish here?”. The husband roared “No! We are tired of waiting for you. We won’t wait for you!”.

We are tired. We are stressed, and hurting, and so focused on ourselves. We feel like if we give an inch, someone will take a mile. Certainly there are those that would take a mile, and then some. But a little patience, a little kindness…that matters more.

Drained, I sat in Tim Horton’s with my deeply satisfying cup of tea, knowing tomorrow would be better. Tomorrow, I didn’t have to leave my house.

I used to be a people person.
But people ruined that for me.

Unknown