Dear Quarantine Diary #16

Tags

chocolate, covid-19 humour, dear diary, driving, summer

Dear Diary – I went shopping with Mom at Wal-Mart. It mostly went well, but at least twice, a very nice employee noticed my dazed eyes and confused stance, as I stood on my toes, peeking around boxes and swiveling from side-to-side. “Can I help you find something?” they politely asked. Embarrassed, I replied, “Sorry, no. I’m actually looking for my mother”. Perhaps I didn’t lose her in the first place. Perhaps she lost me. Seeing an opportunity to ditch the kid, she ran away when I stopped to peruse the shelf or dash down a different lane to grab an item. Whatever the reason, I’m thankful she didn’t leave me there. It would have been a hot walk home.

Dear Diary – We packed up after “online” church to head back to the city. We had to make one quick stop to deliver a large mask order. We were to meet in the Denny’s parking lot. Leave it to me to end up in the wrong spot. After 10 minutes of driving around, and multiple telephone calls, I finally made the connection. Even though we’d be on the road less than an hour, I needed to pee. I texted Hubby to let him know where we were and he texted that I might want to go back to my parents. A large thunderstorm had just come through the city and knocked out the hydro.  I don’t need a good excuse to “hang” at my folks for another day.

Thunder started to rumble in the distance less than 2 hours later. The sky grew very black. It tried hard to rain…and then it cleared, the sun came out. Disappointingly anticlimactic!

The trip home on Monday was strange. I had been on the road less than 10 minutes when my father called. A friend from the city had called to try to warn me that the highway near the city was closed…due to a shooting investigation! Yikes! I decided that I would head north before the shutdown area, which would add about 20-30 minutes to our drive.

Well, it would have only added 20-30 minutes to our drive had I not completely missed our exit! In my defence, the exit was not marked. Hubby and I exchanged several phone calls and text messages (Little Guy mans the phone since I’m driving), and I spent a significant portion of the trip completely unsure of where I was. We went quite a bit father north than I had realized, before we headed west. At one point, I no longer knew what direction I was facing. With only the sun to guide me, and Hubby’s thinning patience, we finally got our bearings and arrived home. My “detour” added closer to 1.5 hours!

Boy, did I need to pee!

Next time, I will bring the hated GPS, Gloria.

Dear Diary – Hubby picked up treats to celebrate my homecoming: Covid-19 Kit-Kat Chunky bars…now 20% chunkier. Just like me!

Dear Quarantine Diary #15

Tags

covid-19 humour, dear diary, humour, sewing

Dear Diary – Every morning this week I’ve been getting up and tuning in to our church’s online Vacation Bible Camp. I was involved in writing and acting in the skit portion. I have to see the humiliation firsthand.  I had a great time and I’m thankful for the great team of volunteers who each brought their “A game” to make this happen! PTL!

See the whole show – all 5 days – google Wilderness Escape Markham Missionary on Youtube. Tell me what you thought!

Dear Diary – I haven’t written much this week. I haven’t done much this week. Mostly gentle sobbing at the sewing machine.

I have never been an adept sewer, particularly with the sewing machine. I can hand stitch tiny seams like nobody’s business, but I always fought with the machine. I feared I was failing Home Ec in Grade 8 because I couldn’t put a pillow together. My Dad had to help me. I sewed a few dresses in college, with discreetly tacked puckers around the edges, and I made pillowcase dolls for a few craft shows!

Mom’s friend ordered 6 medium masks (which was the recommended size for women) with ties: 2 pink, 2 purple, 2 green. Easy peasy! So easy, that I made 14 in an assortment of colours.

When she came to pick them up on Saturday, she tried one on and started to hem and haw. Which print looked better on her? Was a medium too large? Were the ties removable? Did I have elastic and how stiff was it?  I tried to patiently navigate every question. Mom even grabbed a hand mirror so she could see herself. By the time my last nerve was frayed, she decided she’d rather have 6 extra small masks with elastic…in different prints!

While she dined on the deck, I sewed like a psycho.  Threads were flying, the table piled with swatches and pins. The sewing machine itself, rumbled and revved like a car at the starting line in a drag race. I even roped my long-suffering father into cutting out the pieces to save me some time!

By the time I pressed the final one, I was slick with sweat. She was happy. She picked out 3 from the pile and I traded ties for elastic. I was done.

Then she pawed through my pile of fabric and selected 5 so I could make masks for her granddaughters. “Now”, she said, and I inwardly cringed…

Granddaughters get bling!

Could I make her 10 extra-small masks using the fabric and elastic she purchased on her way over, but instead of a double layer, could they be a single layer? Could I whip one up so she could see how heavy it would be? I whipped one up while she watched, modifying the pattern on the fly.

She called 2 days later, concerned that all the seams were rolled to prevent fraying, except the center seam. Could I fix that?

This simple request, and it should be simple, has literally cost me hours. I’m cranky. My family moves away from me when they see me coming, mostly likely muttering under my breath. More than once I’ve nearly had a complete meltdown. I’m talking ugly, snot-producing crying like a 2 year old. One such occasion was because I was overheated, frustrated, and my humidity-infused frizzy hair was hanging in my face. Every time I had to rip my glasses off to see what I was doing (or what I was ripping out), I was ripping out hair too. I desperately wanted to put it in a ponytail, a bun, anything off my face and neck, but my frozen shoulder is not cooperating (or keeping me cool)!

At this rate, I’m earning $1.67 an hour.

But at least I’m still earning something…

Dear Quarantine Diary #12

Tags

covid-19 humour, games, humiliation, humour, life, midlife crisis

Dear Diary – I read a great post about the best way to eat a “chocolate  biscuit”. Turns out The Mottled Macaroon and I eat kit-kats the same way. Care to weight in on The Great Chocolate Biscuit Debate?  Anyone want to go buy me chocolate?

Dear Diary – what was I thinking? Maybe it was the foreign sense of freedom, the excitement of Spring, the vastly empty shelves of the grocery store garden centre. But I bought a pepper plant. I brought it home with visions of juicy red bell peppers. Only it’s not a bell pepper plant. So with red, skinny peppers starting to bud,looking suspiciously like a number of hot pepper, I cut one and brought it inside. Hubby washed and sliced, and tasted it. He said it wasn’t hot. So he sliced a piece for me. It tasted like a red pepper…for about 3 seconds, and then it started to burn. I spit it out and grabbed a slice of bread, all the while Hubby apologizing. The piece he ate was an end, no seeds, so it wasn’t spicy. What am I going to do with hot peppers?

Dear Diary – She’s back! I was asked to reprieve my role as Ima and to write the skits for our online VBC. It was no small task! On Friday, Little Guy and I braved the hot sun to film my parts…in a tent. By the time we finished, we were both wet rags. I should have watched the first couple because Little Guy cut off the top of my head. I hope no one minds that it has a “blair witch project” feel to it now!

Dear Diary – Have you ever recorded a show…and when it ends, you keep watching whatever was recorded after it? Even if it’s a crappy show. We did this and I learned about the 1958 movie Macabre. I’ve never seen it. I probably never will. I’m ok with that.  What caught my attention was the marketing ploy they used to gain audiences: A certificate for a $1,000 life insurance policy from Lloyd’s of London in case they died of fright during the film. Of course there was a disclaimer: the policy would not be honoured in cases of suicide or for those with pre-existing conditions. In addition, actors were hired to play nurses in the lobby during the film, and hearses were parked outside. Were the promotions successful? Macabre grossed as much as $5 million. 

Dear Diary – Every day is starting to feel like the Hunger Games. What new disaster will challenge me until nightfall. My “frozen” shoulder just keeps getting worse and the more I stretch it, the more other things hurt too. I refuse to go bra-less or stop shaving, even if it requires crying and yoga! The two aren’t mutually exclusive anyway.

I’m now pretty much reduced to unfashionable shirts that button up the front or are really baggy. Hubby had to help me get my top off yesterday. Normally I would perceive that as a “hey baby” move, but this was desperation. It took 2 attempts and one minor panic attack before we got it. My next plan was to cut it off.

I can’t even put my hair in a pony tail. I was terribly hot Saturday evening and asked Hubby to do it. Obviously, with 2 sons, this was a foreign skill, and without 2 functioning arms, I couldn’t demonstrate. Little Guy, having had long hair himself, was slightly more adept, but didn’t wrap the band that extra time to keep it tight. Still, it served its purpose until the hot flash passed. I now wear 2 braids like a 12 year girl, or 1 katniss braid, like a 12 year old girl in 2012.

I refuse to go down without a fight!

Let the Games begin.

 

Dear Quarantine Diary #11

Tags

covid-19 humour, dear diary, humour, stupid people

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…

 

Dear Quarantine Diary #10

Tags

baking, covid-19 humour, dear diary, humour, shopping

Dear Diary – I survived groceries in the city. We live in a “hot zone” but there were no sterilizing stations for the carts. And, as expected, most people were not wearing masks or gloves, and some were completely oblivious to their surroundings. Even though the aisles had signs, people were wandering the wrong way in the “one way” lanes. By people, I should say women…women talking to other women in person or on the phone, or women so absorbed in their cell phone grocery list! I shopped where I don’t usually shop and therefore forgot a few items and had to double back. With the one-way aisles, I felt like a mouse trapped in a maze. I managed to come home without something but now I forget what I forgot. Oh well!

By the time I got home, washed and put everything away, I was exhausted. I spent the rest of the day trying to contact my friend so I could deliver her groceries. I dropped them off the next day but not with the Tim’s she requested. I’m not going anywhere I don’t have to. Even to Tim’s. It’s a sad, sad world.

The problem with the world is the intelligent people are full of doubt, while the stupid people are full of confidence. – Charles Burkowski

Dear Diary – This past weekend was my last chance to bake before Summer temperatures forced us indoors, huddling by a fan, waiting for the A/C to run again. On Saturday, I baked lemon meringue pie, from scratch. I used a crust recipe from a tried-and-true baker. I only had to make one emergency call to Mom because I knew my pastry was not right. It’s still not right and half of it is in the freezer because by the time I was done rolling out enough for one pie, I was done! How did my Grandmother bake 2-3 pies a day!!?? The lemon curd went smoother than expected, and the meringue was the prettiest cloud I’ve made. It tasted as good as it looked. Which was a nice change!

It wasn’t even cool before we got into it. No time for staged photos!

On Sunday, I decided to try Beth’s Foolproof French macarons with raspberry buttercream icing. I knew not to let the title fool me – just because it says “foolproof” doesn’t mean I won’t find a way to screw it up. I have managed to navigate nary a “foolproof”, “no-fail” recipes into complete disasters. I even have the crime-scene photos to prove it. Most of the cookies turned out really well and I could eat a bucket of the raspberry buttercream. I say “most” because I accidentally grabbed wax paper instead of parchment paper and those 12 cookies were permanently welded to the paper.

Don’t worry Mom – I saved you some!!

Dear Diary – We have a senior citizen bumblebee living in our yard. I frequently catch him just hovering in the air over the patio, between the porch and the lilac tree. Is he trying to remember where he’s been or where he’s going? After a minute, he’ll dart off in one direction. Within 10 seconds, he’ll dart off in the opposite direction.

I guess we’re all entitled to a senior’s moment.

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter. Mark Twain

Dear Diary – For years, in an effort to instill a love of reading, Little Guy had to read every evening as part of his homework. Well the education system’s plan has backfired! He has to do a book report for his English class and he’s been dragging his heels for weeks. It’s due next week and he’s only halfway through the book and over confident that he can complete the assignments without having to read it all. I’m doubtful.

Too bad he’s too old for Captain Underpants. Those were books he’d read  over and over again. Tra la la!

Dear Diary – Hubby made an observation this week. When it’s 10C outside, our next door neighbour walks around the back yard shirtless. Now that it’s 30C (40 with humidity), he’s walking around the backyard wearing a sweater and a winter hat. I get hot flashes just looking at him, and not in a good way.

Have you ever watched someone and thought, “I wonder who ties your shoelaces?

Dear Quarantine Diary #9

Tags

covid-19 humour, humour

Dear Diary – I’ve been home in the city for a week. I arrived on a Wednesday, and was ready to go back by Thursday morning. I’ll spare you the details. We’ve slowly adjusted to our routines and expectations. For example, I expect everyone to not wake me up. If you’re lonely, get a dog!

Our house is small. There are only 2 rooms on the main floor: living/dining and kitchen. Hubby’s “office” is the dining room, which means we have to be quieter, especially when he starts talking to himself. It usually means he’s on a conference call. Hopefully that is what it means.

Little Guy has set up his “office” in the basement. It felt like there was no place for me. I’m a member of this family, not just the maid.

I feel like I’m a teenager confined to my room again. Little Guy helped me get my DVD player going again. At first, I had picture but no sound. Then sound and no picture. Now I have picture and sound…but it’s black and white, even though it used to be colour. Close enough! It took some creative thinking and Little Guy’s muscle, but we moved his small desk into my freshly cleaned room to make my “office”.

It’s kind of lonely. Maybe we should get a dog,

Dear Diary – I miss my wife. While I was at my parents’, I tried to help with things like meals, dishes, cleaning and laundry. But I know Mom did more than me. It was nice to have someone buy the groceries, plan the meals, change the beds, and weed the flowerbeds. The toilet paper roll was never empty; the cookie jar, always full. I never had dust bunnies chasing me down the hallway or science experiments growing in the bathroom. She even shooed the spiders. Every morning I stumbled out to a fresh, hot pot of tea.

Like a Proverbs 31 woman, she clothed me with a face mask and a sundress…using the pattern I bought 14 years ago It’s a maternity patter which suits my “pandemic binge” bod. She made a dress 14 years ago too when I was expecting Little Guy, but the “girls” grew faster than my baby bump and it never fit. Evidently, it still doesn’t fit.

But I digress.

Everyone needs a wife; even wives need wives. – Meg Wolitzer

Dear Diary – It started mid-morning, a constant rumbling. Was it thunder? The sun was shining. Fireworks set off by a drunken idiot? Gunfire by a disgruntled Wal-Mart shopper? Godzilla? This IS 2020 and the beginning of June. Is this part of Level 6 in Jumanji?

Nope – our Mama red squirrel had babies and they’re now rowdy teenagers playing tag in the ceiling of our back porch.

I have so many photos for next Wednesday…

Dear Diary – My friend asked me if I could drive her to the bank to make a deposit. She’d be in and out in 5 minutes. Tops! Two and a half hours and 4 banks later, her quick job was done. After sitting in my car in the parking lot for two and a half hours in 30+C heat, so was I.

A friend loves at all times. Proverbs 17:17a

Dear Diary – I finally got the snow tires removed.

Dear Diary – Hubby received an email today, with an attached email, with an attached email, with an attached email about a document that was supposed to be attached but was not attached. It would appear COVID-19 doesn’t kill stupid.

Dear Diary – I set up a table in the driveway to take some photos for Monday’s “What’s In My Cup” blog post. My neighbour from down the street wandered over to what I was selling. He was disappointed I didn’t have cookies.  I did bake “cookies” the day before, but I forgot to set the timer…

Dear Diary – Today I have to get groceries. and I admit, I’m a little scared. If people weren’t courteous or patient in the past, I doubt very much that COVID-19 has changed things. Most people don’t move over on our evening walks and the kids try to run us down on their bikes. I think the global motto is this:

We’re in this together (but me first)!

I may rush to the back of the store where they keep the bread, and grab a boule and a baguette to use as a shield and sword. En garde!

Dear Quarantine Diary #8

Tags

covid-19 humour, dear diary, humour

Dear Diary – I dreamed last night that I was starting a new dance class and I was really excited about it. I was wearing a pretty red dress and I felt great. My greatest concern though: that people would notice I haven’t shaved my legs in awhile and I look like a grizzly.

I shaved my legs in the morning.

Dear Diary – Since my aunt can’t travel as planned, we decided to bring a little Spain to her for her birthday,  including tapas.

For dessert, I baked a Brooklyn Blackout chocolate cake, a 4 layer filled with chocolate pudding. It was invented during WWII by a Brooklyn bakery chain in recognition of the mandatory blackouts to protect the Brooklyn Navy Yard. As always, it was not without difficulty. First, I tried to soften a brown sugar lump by pounding it with a wrench. Little Guy managed to break off the 1/2 cup I needed. Second, I “overwhelmed the solids” as my mother put it. Basically I ended up with goopy lumps of cocoa at the bottom of a pot of warm milk. The cake was tasty but it had tiny flour pebbles which spoiled the look.

We surprised my aunt, and by the time we were done eating, we all needed a siesta.

Dear Diary – I had another recording adventure for Sunday service this week. It started with getting up at 2 a.m. to download the guitar/vocals. The following afternoon, I tried on most of my mother’s wardrobe since it’s too hot for flannel and I haven’t been home since the middle of March and have no cool clothes of my own. I brushed my hair and put on make-up, and piled boxes and DVD cases on the coffee table to set up phone.

As I started to record, something started to rustle outside the window. It sounded big and my first thought was raccoon, having been woken by one two nights earlier.  It turns out it was just Mom. I closed the window and tried again.

It’s harder than you think, to listen to the music with one ear and sing along, knowing everyone in the house can hear you…only you. After several false starts, I got through the first song. I smiled sweetly waiting for the second song to begin, only to realize, with horror, that I couldn’t remember a single word. I tried to fudge it but failed, and I broke down laughing instead.

I was up again at 2 a.m. to upload the finished product.

Not the most complimentary angle but it sounded nice!

Dear Diary – For weeks, my Mom has been gently suggesting that we drive to the city and go to Danini’s for chocolate. Today, Dad went to the city to pick up an item at Home Depot and came home, not only with Danini chocolate, but with Tim Horton’s steeped tea black for the ladies, and chocolate milk for the guys. I love my Dad (and not just because he brought me Tim’s).

Dear Diary – How did I miss Spring? One day I was comfy in flannel; the next I wanted to strip naked and lie on the concrete basement floor? My snow tires are still on my car and I tripped over Little Guy’s winter boots. Having left home in March, the only clothes in my suitcase are flannel shirts and wool socks. So I raided my mother’s closet for a skirt to go with her baggy t-shirt. It hung below my hips like 1990’s Britney Spears, which was sexy on Britney Spears…in 1990. Especially since she shaved her legs!

Dear Diary – I will always be a home body but once in awhile, I like to go places. Today I went home…to the city. This evening Hubby asked me which kind of chips I’d like. I said “surprise me”. I should have known better. He started to unzip his shorts. Yes, I was surprised!

I shouldn’t have left him on his own for so many weeks. It may take months to socialize him again. I’m glad I brought wine.

 

 

 

 

Dear Quarantine Diary #7

Tags

covid-19 humour, humour

Dear diary – Another looong day waiting  to see if UPS lied to me about my package.  Paul had called my cell around 9 a.m. promising it would arrive. By  4 p.m., I couldn’t sit by the window any longer, so I went for a walk down the road to the bridge.

A watched pot never boils.  Apparently the UPS truck can’t come when you’re watching either.

As I crested the hill on my afternoon plod, the scene before me evolved into slow motion:  a man in brown shorts, jogging across the road to a white van idling on the side of the road…across from my folks’. My Dad stands on the front sidewalk, and my Mom, ravishing in red plaid flannel, is smiling and walking across the lawn in the direction toward the bridge.  I started to run, the music swelling – “the hills are alive…with the sound of music…”. Mom waved the white envelope over her head, the sun catching the light behind her head in a halo. I waved back, both arms in the air, while the music continued to swell.

O glorious day! My faith in humanity is restored! And I got my package!

Dear diary- I finally couldn’t stand the wisps of yellow at my temple so I touched up my hair. It took an exorbitant amount of time and a small amount of crying. Mostly because I’m still trying to unfreeze my shoulder. I managed the hair, but lately, I can’t always quite wrangle the bra. It’s a daily exercise in contortion-ism. So is shaving my armpits. Also, I missed half the yellow wisp.  I would try again, but since I can’t get my arm up high enough to brush and/or put up my hair, maybe nobody will notice.

Dear diary – I decided to give the whole “improving myself” during this season of quarantine,  another shot! My aunt passed on a book teaching drawing using the right-brain. After reading the science behind the theory, in order to have a baseline for progress, I was supposed to draw 4 things: a person, a face, a chair, and my own hand. I was to copy everything except the drawing of a person. I ended up with a hand holding a pencil without a pencil, a dangerous-looking chair, a face that is half-dad and half-David Suzuki, and Cinderella in drag.

I have such a long way to go…

Dear diary – Mom and I decided to take a chance, and “shop” at Wal-Mart. She needed vitamins and I needed to work on overcoming my ever-increasing agoraphobia. So we scraped the mud off our boots because we were going to town! I even brushed my hair and put on real pants (as opposed to leggings)!

As Mom pulled into a parking space, the woman in the car next to us shrugged her shoulders at us with her arms raised. We didn’t know her. We hadn’t cut her off. Mom immediately wondered what her problem was. There was only a short line for the garden centre, but the front of the store was barricaded. We were standing there, trying to figure out what was going on when a lady yelled over, “the garden centre is open but the store is closed”. Of course it was closed – it was a holiday!

What to do when you’re all gussied up with nowhere to go? Walk the perimeter of the plaza parking lot and laugh at the steady stream of cars circling the parking lot as they try to figure out if the store is open. Sit in the car and laugh at the other stupid people who parked their cars, wandered to the store entrance, and stared stupidly, before wandering back to their car, and leaving. Drive through town and admire people’s front lawns. And finally, amble down the walkway by the river.

By the time we got home, we were tuckered out and ready for ice cream.

Life is like an ice cream cone, you have to lick it one day at a time. – Charles Shultz

Dear diary – I played a game of Monopoly with Little Guy and for the first time, I was the race car! After the first few turns, Little Guy had landed on Free Parking once and he owned most of the board, including Boardwalk, Park Place and ALL the railroads. Meanwhile, I was almost bankrupt and had gone to prison twice.

In a row.

It went downhill from there.

I hate Monopoly.

 

Dear Quarantine Diary #6 –

Tags

covid-19 humour, dear diary, humour

Dear diary – On Friday, the Canadian Snowbirds passed by. My aunt called from the city to let us know they were on the way. I was getting dressed, so I rushed from my room while throwing on some leggings (realizing too late that the front window curtains were open). I threw on my winter coat too, so I could watch them fly by from the back porch. Dad, who works at a flying club, had his radio with him so we heard when they had passed the airport.  Between their more southerly route and the cloud cover, only Dad caught a glimpse of their trail disappearing behind our neighbours’ roof. But we heard them! Meanwhile Little Guy had stumbled from his bedroom to an empty house and he thought he’d been missed in the rapture.

That afternoon we went for a nature walk with my aunt. It started to snow. Mom denied it. She kept calling it pollen.  By dinner time, the deck and chairs were covered thickly with styrofoam snow pollen balls. The snow pollen was so thick by bedtime, we couldn’t see across the fields.

Dear diary – Everything was still covered with snow pollen so I put on my day jammies and settled on the couch for the day! It was the safest place to be. Dad is feeding his own sourdough starter and he baked bread and buns today. Sometimes there’s a territorial clash in the kitchen with Mom.

Dear diary – The bodies are piling up and I’m tired of disposing of the corpses. Sometimes I’ve found the living hiding among the dead in a desperate attempt to survive the massacre. They crouch among the garbage, among the shadows, hiding in cracks and crevices. I feel like a sniper, this kind of hunting requiring patience and stamina, body tense as I wait… Mom wintered her plants in the dining room and the ants appeared as soon as the sun grew warmer. Some might call me “heartless”. What can I say? War is hell! And I don’t share chocolate cake with anyone. You want a piece of me, punk?!

Dear diary – Little Guy brought me toaster strudel and tea “in bed” for Mother’s Day. Why the ” “? Because he crashed through the bedroom door with a chip on his shoulder the size of a dump truck, dropped the meal on the night stand and cleared out like he was being chased by a mom looking for a big hug! It’s the thought that counts! Breakfast in bed is nice in theory, but sitting in a dark room, alone, isn’t much fun. So Mom brought her tea and cheerios in and sat at the other end. Much better! We watched my home church service online (and the Brady Bunch worship team I was in). I made homemade lasagna, and spent the evening watching Alfred Hitchcock movies. Happy Mother’s Day!

Dear Diary – I humiliated myself publicly again, on Youtube, but it was for the kids! And really, who am I trying to impress? Different members of our church have been recording stories for kids, and it was my turn. I revived an old character, my nerdy girl, Ima Victor! It would have been better with Captain Gary!

 I recorded in the bathtub and Little Guy provided the special effects. I wonder if this story will make a big splash…

Dear diary – They lied. And then they lied again and again, and again. First, they said my first package would arrive Tuesday, then Monday, then Tuesday, then Wednesday…by Wednesday afternoon, the online tracker just said “delivery delayed”.  Meanwhile, my second package, which shipped 2 days after the first, was scheduled to arrive Wednesday. I have been sitting in the front window, staring at the road, watching for that brown delivery van. Thank goodness for my emergency chocolate bar!

After multiple attempts, I finally joined the cue on the UPS “hotline”. They told me it would be a 20-25 minutes wait. They lied. At minute 35, the phone started to die and I had to sprint to the bedroom for another. At minute 51, my Dad’s birthday dinner started and I was still tied to the phone listening to obnoxiously perky muzak with no definable tune and no end. I’m sure they were hoping I’d give up but I’m tenacious.

I waited 65 minutes before I got a live person. I explained my situation and my frustration carefully and calmly, recognizing that the poor girl on the other end really had no means with which to remedy  situation. I didn’t rip into her when she suggested I look up my delivery details online, which was one of the reasons I called in the first place. But when I said the packages were my birthday presents, her tone changed. I could tell she felt bad that my delivery had been changed 5 times, so she sent an email to the “powers that be” with my cell #. It’s supposed to arrive today.

I’m not holding my breath.

Every day that … truck comes through here delivering important things to important people. Someday it’s going to stop here, and when that day comes, then we – and by we, I mean me – will be important. – Robert K. Bowfinger

Dear Quarantine Diary – #5

Tags

covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, humour

Dear Diary – Today my parents made me laugh. They each have their own chair on either side of the coffee table.  While one is looking at the computer, the other is looking at the tablet, and after awhile, they switch. Frequently, they share Facebook stories, video clips, etc. across the table. Sometimes their timing is off, or there’s glare on the screen, or the clip won’t start…and it irritates the other. This morning, they were each playing away on their own devices, and this weird music started playing. After a few minutes, Mom asked Dad dryly, “is there a reason we’re being subjected to this?” Dad looked at her, slightly confused. She stared back. Tension grew. An eagle whistled, like in an old cowboy movie. Dad broke down first. “It’s not me…it’s you!” We have no idea what she did, but at least it was a catchy tune. They are still speaking to each other.

Dear Diary – We’re doing the Brady Bunch Thing and people can see up my nose…last week I was sent a recording of his vocals and guitar for Sunday’s worship set. It was a bit of a challenge. Do I own a device that will record? Where do I record so Little Guy doesn’t wander through in his pjs? And where is my hairbrush?

The night before I was going to record, I got a text that a second recording was coming. Since it was going to take a couple hours to download, and it doesn’t cost to download in the middle of the night, I got up 2 a.m. to download. I was up again at 5 to turn my laptop off.

After a pot of tea, I spent the morning learning a new song and practicing with the recording. I wrestled down fixed my hair and applied war paint make-up. In order to add my layer of vocals, I balanced my butt on the back of the basement couch, with my laptop beside me.  I stole borrowed a pair of Dad’s earbuds and started recording with my cell phone.

After a few false starts and overcoming my anxiety about everyone listening to me caterwauling singing with no music, I got into a rhythm. Four minutes into a thirteen minute set, my cell phone rang. Then…eight minutes into a thirteen minute set, my earbud fell out, for the fourth time and I hollered in frustration. I could discreetly stick it back in 3 times, but 4 was too much!

Once recorded, it took 2 hours to send back to him for the onerous task of putting it altogether. It airs Sunday. I will be available for autographs.

Dear Diary – I was supposed to return Pastor Ann’s cake pans, and I promised her hubby a piece of birthday cake. The cake is still sitting by the front door. The buttercream icing melted. So I baked him banana bread. It’s sitting by the front door…

Dear Diary – I asked my Mom what we did last weekend to finish my “dear diary” post. We can’t remember and my bottle of wine is still unopened. Neither of us is responsible for this…

Baa…humbug!

Don’t get all weird about getting older. Our age is merely the number of years the world has been enjoying us! – Maxine