Dear Quarantine Diary – Week#28

Tags

covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, family, humour, nature, sunsets

Dear Diary – I was jolted awake by a loud jet engine roar outside my room!

It was a cacophany of high-pitched squealing, mid-tone whining, and deep-throated rumbling. At first I thought it was some large cumbersome piece of farm equipment limping down the road. But it didnn’t limp away. I briefly fumed at mom’s neighbour, who is just the kind to guy to use loud tools early in the morning. He loves to mow his gravel early on the weekends, but it was only Friday! This horrendous noise required immediate investigation.

I went first to the front window, but there weren’t any vehicles in sight. So I stumbled to the back window, and while I could see a couple of guys in hard hats in the distance by the pipeline next door, there didn’t appear to be anything awry.

About that time, Little Guy also stumbled, bleary-eyed, from his room, wondering what a jet engine was doing in the subdivision behind us. Told ya’!

Workers by the pipeline soon started moving vehicles but without hurry, and I’ve never heard a backhoe bellow like this. Out front, 2 pickup trucks stopped by the side of the road, phones in hand, staring at something. Then a fire truck drove up, lights on but no siren. This now warranted serious exploration, so with my fuzzy blue robe belt cinched tight and my tea mug in hand, I wandered, barefoot, across the damp, spongy front yard. Five steps in and I could see the source.

Yes, white flames dancing high in the air. Was it a gas leak? A controlled vent? A marshmallow roast? There was no way to tell, but just in case we were told to evacuate, I got dressed!

What a way to start the weekend!

Dear Diary – I finally ventured into a department store to purchase Little Guy some new pants. ALL of his pants are high-water. This kid just won’t quit growing! The problem with a replacement isn’t in finding length in the pants, but width. His waist is smaller than mine (jealous) so he needs a men’s size in leg, but not so much in the middle. Pants are a problem for me too, but for different reasons. The legs are always too long and the middle is a whole ‘nother story!

Auntie M did a closet purge too and brought over a box of clothes last night and I went “shopping”. I’ve expanded my winter wardrobe a tad. I added 2 more cardigans.

Dear Diary – One more to go. My faithful father drove Little Guy and I to get Little Guy’s second shot. We celebrated with dark honey & almond chocolate from a local business. That means Hubby, Little Guy and I have all had 2 covid vaccinations shots, and Big Guy (finally!) has had his first! I’m looking forward to a grand reunion! It’s been too long!

Dear Diary – My fuzzy blue robe stepped out the front door again this week.

The telephone woke me from a lovely dream Tuesday morning. It rang and rang, and finally stopped. Blinking erratically, I checked my watch. It was only 7:30. When it started ringing again, I wondered why no one was answering? It could be the pool heater guy; he did say he’d call on his way over. So I rolled out and started out my door. The sight of Little Guy already up was a shock, and I quickly ducked back inside my room. I was only wearing a t-shirt and I could have scarred him for life. I grabbed my fuzzy blue robe and charged toward my folks’ door, noticing a white van parked alongside the road. A white van with blue lettering. The heater guy. I yelled for Dad to get dressed, and waved to the driver from the front porch. In my blue fuzzy robe. The slightly embarrassed heater guy waved back.

The pool heater is fixed, and I enjoyed my first swim of the year!

Dear Diary – Mother Nature put on quite a display Tuesday night. In addition to house-rattling thunder, we had sideways rain and a spectacular light show. It’s one of the (many) things I miss because I live in the city. Out here in the country, I can watch the light show and see the forked lightning split the night sky. On clear nights, I can see the stars and milky way. And every evening, God paints a different sky. I will never ceased to be amazed.

Dear Diary – It’s hard to believe that my mini “holiday” is nearly over. Most of our days have been spent just enjoying being together. We picked up ice cream one hot afternoon. We drank endless pots of tea. We’ve played some board games, read in the sunshine, and did absolutely nothing, because we could. One evening, we laughed at the birds and roasted marshmallows on the fire table. Probably not the healthiest choice, but still – Oh. So. Good!

I needed this rest. For my body and mind, but mostly for my soul. Did I mention my body? Next week I’m up early every day for a kid-style adventure – Vacation Bible Camp – and I’m not sure I’ll survive…

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week#27

Tags

covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, humour

Dear Diary – School’s out for the summer and holidays have officially begun, so why does every day still feel the same?

Even though many restrictions are still in place, I ran away from home! I love summer, not so much the heat and humidity, but the sense of freedom it brings. No deadlines (or emails from teachers when they get missed). No jeans pinching my waist (sundresses, baby)! Fewer commitments hanging over my head. Just tousled hair and sun-kissed cheeks, rainbows after a storm, and flowers, birds and butterflies displaying their colours.

And a fresh basil from the garden.

But here’s a sobering thought, we’re half-way through the year, and what do I have to show for it…

Dear Diary – After the tears, the yelling, the near “mental breakdown” trying to book an appointment for my second vaccination, and my friend’s lucky break, I finally got shot…on Canada Day! I had packed my suitcase ahead so that as soon as I no longer “crummy”, I could hop in the car and “run away from home”.

Hubby drove me to the community center and waited while I did the deed. The line up was remarkably small. My nurse’s name was Jennifer. She was born in the same month and year as me. I took this as a good omen. Everything went swimmingly, and I was soon seated in the centre of the soccer club, counting down my 15 minutes, to freedom!

The pins and needles started almost immediately, and continued to ping me for the next two hours. By the time, they disappeared, the fatigue was rolling in. We went to bed early. I spent the next day snoozing and sweating on the couch, nauseous, with a dull headache and achy bones. I continued to boil through the night, waking the next day twisted in my sheets and feeling limp. My physio torturer therapist took pity on me and we did gentle exercises, lying down. My chiropractor kindly snapped a misguided rib back into place; too bad it won’t stay there! Overall, I would say I have survived. It’s Hubby’s turn next, then Little Guy. The only one left to start the process is Big Guy (hint, hint)!

Dear Diary – I packed my bathing suit and sundresses for a summer vacation…but where did the sunshine go? For 3 days, I’ve hunkered down inside in a sweatshirt and wool socks…and a sundress! I would have braved the pool except the pool heater broke on the weekend, and the temperature has dropped radically. I suspect there are icebergs floating under the cover. It probably would have felt great when I had my vaccine fever!

I am not amused!

Dear Diary – I found a new way to torment my long suffering Mom, besides hiding her stuffed lamb in odd places, and naming the eggs. The other evening, Little Guy and I played Carcassone with her. Carcassone is a tile-based game and points are earned by laying tiles to build roads and cities. After accidentally knocking some tiles akilter and watching Mom adjusting them, we started to tilt tiles here and there to see if she’d notice. She’d notice and scold, we’d laugh…and do it again. What can I say? I’m a brat! We laughed so hard, we almost had tears running down our faces.

He will yet fill your mouth with laughter and your lips with shouts of joy.

Job 8:21

Dear Diary – This morning, I made the mistake of perching my glasses on my head. My hair immediately snarled in the nose pieces. The more I tried to pry them off, the worse it became. By the time I left my room, my glasses were firmly affixed to my head. It took 2 parents to set me free. That was almost as embarrassing as the time I got stuck in my bra.

Dear Diary – After a chilly evening walk, I settled down with a hot cup of tea and a book. As I went to drain the last of my tea, I discovered I had added protein in my cup. An ant had drowned.

At least he wasn’t a spider!

Maybe he was just trying to get warm too.

Dear Diary – I went shopping inside a store, and left delighted with my newly purchased package of knickers. Now when I’m told to put my big panties on, I can! The province may have deemed some items as non-essential, but after a year and a half, they were becoming pretty essential. Little Guy now owns 1 pair of pants that aren’t highwater, and socks that are larger than a hummingbird. It’s often the little things that bring great delight!

Dear Diary – Someone in Belgium used my photo in her blog post and business instagram. Pretty cool!

Fennel Tea

Dear Diary – Little Guy would like to wait as long as possible for his next vaccation. So after surfing the net and making some calls, I booked for his second vaccination next week. Not because he’s anxious (that would be mean…kinda funny but mean), but because it’s important. I haven’t woken him up yet to tell him the good news!

It’s going to be a looooong week!

Dear Diary – Hubby made a startling discovery this week. He has mice IN his car! Not just under the hood. In. The.Car. He found poop in the console. Personally, I think we should just sell the car!

A mouse can be just as dangerous as a bullet or a bomb.

Lamar S. Smith

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #26

Tags

covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, Geek, Halo, humour, marriage, photography, video games

Dear Diary – I could procrastinate no longer. I finally got busy cancelling Little Guy’s cell phone and my sucker tablet. Just to clarify, I was the sucker. I started with the online chat, which was relatively painless. Except he really thought I should convert the tablet to another new phone. No. Thanks. I’m trying to get rid of a phone. He also kept insisting I must know some one who would be thrilled to assume the number and the plan for the tablet. So I fired off a few text messages and suggested we proceed with cancelling Little Guy’s phone.

Little Guy’s phone was his birthday present, but it was partly for me. If he decided not to come straight home after school, he could let me know. He “disappeared” after school once and it was the most terrifying hour of my life! But he doesn’t like cell phones. It’s been dead and buried in the batcave for the last 18 months. So it needed to go!

Nicky called me on my phone to proceed, just as someone else called and the texts started flying in. I have never been so popular. I answered the second call and diligently waited on hold. Until they hung up on me. Undeterred, I called them after a short wait, kept saying no…repeatedly, and I’m happy to say, my phone bill just got a lot smaller.

Dear Diary – For our 15th wedding anniversary, I wrote:

“I love you. You annoy me more than I ever thought possible, but… I want to spend every irritating minute with you.”

Scrubs

This week we celebrated our 25th! We’re both pretty sure I’m one miracle away from sainthood. I always say, the first 15 years were the worst! Learning to live together and to blend as a family took a lot of prayer, a lot of tears, and a lot of commitment. Was it worth it? Yes. We may not have the same passion and romance as in our youth, but there is something to be said for familiarity and comfort, like a cozy, warm sweater. Some days we’re soulmates; others, were cell mates. Unlike some couples we know, we are still more than really good roommates, and will continue to work on our relationship. Best of all, we’ve learned to laugh together, and I have a feeling, the older we get, the more we’ll have to laugh about.

An archeologist is the best husband a woman can have. The older she gets, the more interested in her he is.

Agatha Christie

Since we couldn’t celebrate in Italy this year, which was to be our first (and probably only) honeymoon, I suggested Italian takeout and white wine for dinner. We ate it in front of the t.v. with Little Guy. That’s more our style anway! We exchanged gifts this year too. Hubby received a new watch with a silver face, for our silver anniverary. I received tiny white gold and diamond studs (the link for which I sent to Hubby and said “buy these”). It took me 10 minutes, a lot of straining, and a consultation with my kid before we figured out how to release them from the packaging. The backings on the earrings are tiny screws, which is why I couldn’t pull them apart. Who knew? 🙂

Finally, I suggested we get Little Guy to take some goofy photos of us in the back yard. My intention had been to wear our wedding clothes. Hubby’s suit stopped fitting after the first year, thanks to my sub-par cooking, but he still owns a suit. I think he makes James Bond look like a goober! My wedding dress, however, was cause for many tears. Part of that was the timing. I tore my closet apart in a fit of panic because I had to sing at church in the morning and I had nothing to wear. My clothes fit into 3 categories: 1) too small; 2) almost fits; and, 3) isn’t fit to be seen in public. I now have 3 piles: 1) to give away; 2) to throw away; 3) to store in case I lose 5-10 lbs. Now my closet is full of cardigans. I may have to shop online, and I hate shopping online.

Back to my wedding dress. Sometime in the last 12 months, the girls outgrew it. The zipper wouldn’t go up all the way and the sleeves drooped like sad, satin butterflies. We tried. Believe me, we tried! I confess, after Hubby left, I sobbed on the floor like a 3 year old. I’m not proud of it, but it was the day before our anniversary and I couldn’t just wear a cardigan!

I finally settled on my going away dress, which my sister-in-law made for me. It was the same pattern as my bridesmaids, but red, because our song is….Lady in Red. It’s corny but when you’re “in love”, you can digest corn better. The dress zipped and if I stood up straight and sucked it in…and maybe if we angled the camera just right, and I thought skinny thoughts, it would work?

It was 29C but felt closer to 40C when we stepped into our backyard at 4:30 p.m. The thunderstorms had finally blown through, and everything was dripping. The air was still. I knew I had a short window before Hubby would start to complain about the heat in his black suit. My dress was already clinging to me like bare skin on a vinyl car seat, so we posed quickly.

First with Halo weaponry, provided by Big Guy’s friend. Why? Because I was out of creative ideas and I play Halo. I told Hubby to think Mr. and Mrs Smith. Except I was smiling and he was not. Sigh…

Then “Covid shots” because it’s as much a part of our history as our wedding day 25 years ago.

Finally, zombie apocolypse? Why? Because together, we have survived just about everything else.

I’m not sure which I like best. What’s your favourite?

My husband and I have never considered divorce…murder sometimes, but never divorce.

Dr. Joyce Brothers

Dear Diary – Tonight is the night. What a way to celebrate Canada Day! I’m getting my second Covid vaccination! Two boys to go and I can breathe a sigh of relief! With my mask on. 😉

Dear Quarantine Diary -Week #25

Tags

bad hair, baking, blue hair, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, food, hair, humour

Dear Diary – We celebrated Father’s Day on Sunday – with one kid in another city, and my folks in another. It sucked! But we did our best to celebrate anyway. And, as with all celebrations, that included the pre-requisite gifts of tees, snacks and undies, and more food.

Great gift, Big Guy!!

Dear Diary – Hubby and I went looking for something to watch one evening and we found a perfectly ridiculous movie:

Planet Terror (2007) A one-legged go-go dancer and her ex-lover join forces with other survivors to battle a horde of flesh-eating zombies invading their Texas town.

I may be creative but even I can’t come up with this stuff!

Dear Diary – I overbaked! In this instance, I do not mean that I consumed an extraordinary amount of maryjane, but that I baked too many sweets AND consequently, with so much sugar now at my disposal, all hope of sweating off that covid weight is flitting away faster than a gold finch! Those extra pounds will party around my middle longer and likely invite friends. I’ll be sweating, but not in a good way. I immediately chucked the donuts, jelly busters, cookies and muffins in the freezer, so at least I have to venture into the batcave basement to retrieve anything, which will cause me to sweat…

Speaking of sweat, I still wake up in the night, tossing and turning, and sweating. A few years ago, I made a commitment to my love, my bed, that I would work on our relationship. I bought new sheets. I’ve tried sleeping with my head where my feet should be, the sheets a tangled mess by morning. Conscious of the alarm clock’s jealousy, I’ve cloaked it at night to dim its light, its presence when we’re together. But alas! I’ve held on, longer than I probably should have, hoping it wasn’t over. A relationship takes two and I’m just not feeling the love. When things open up, I think (sob), I think I have to kick it to the curb. It will be so hard, but I’m ready to begin again.

Dear Diary – It’s going to be a long summer. My noisy neighbours have taught their loud, elephant of a daughter, how to play Marco Polo. It’s a game where one person keeps their eyes closed and searches for the other players by yelling “Marco”. They reply by yelling “Polo”. My Mom came up with the perfect solution – confuse them by hiding in the yard and playing Marco Polo too.

Dear Diary – This.

This has to stop.

The tears, the tangles, the tearing… Every morning. After every shower. When I walked outside on a breezy day. Thursdays.

The combs get stuck in the rats’ nests, the rats themselves nasty invisible things. I pull hairballs from my brush that would rival Garfield, and fill my garbage can with enough balls to knit a sweater. We’re finding long strings on everything. It clings to Hubby’s socks on the clothesline, and occasionally, he finds it in his dinner.

And once the knots are removed, I look like a muppet version of an 80’s rock band. Frizzy. Blue. Out of control.

No amount of hair product or appliances can tame the mane. Colouring has become an hours’ long production. It’s nice to have long hair in the summer because I can put it up, but with a shoulder that’s taking forever to make a comeback in physio torture therapy, I start to sweat. Which heats the house, the humidity from which causes the frizz to really pop. It’s a never ending cycle. I need “hair-apy” and soon!

It’s been almost 2 years since I’ve had a haircut.

I googled “how to deal with bad hair”. One solution was to wear a low-cut blouse. Geniuses everywhere. Sigh…

You can’t control everything! Your hair was put on your head to remind you of that.

CBWC: Pets

Tags

black and white photography, CB&W, family, guinea pigs, pets, Photo Challenge, photography

I had a hard time deciding which pets to feature in Cee Neuner’s Black & White challenge. Each one had so much personality!

I never realized before that so many of my pets were homeless before we took them in.

My first cat was Arthur Fluffarelli, or Fluffy, a regal long-haired tom with a mean disposition. Then Mouse, the sweetest tortie who was my best friend all through high school. She would watch for me in the window and always seemed to know when I needed cuddles. And later Phoebe, also a tortie, but a feral terror!

Big Guy started with a goldfish named Phil, then Black & Decker…and then too many fish to count. We adopted the Gr. 2 class pets, two brown gerbils, who we named Oscar and Felix. They were an odd couple! Big Guy’s hamster, Jack FM (after his favourite radio station), came from a pet store, but the next 3 were adopted for Little Guy: Rockstar, Guinea and Chloe.

Guinea and Rockstar were inseparable sisters. Their owner got sick and couldn’t keep them, so we adopted them. Guinea was small, black and white, and bullied Rockstar, a butterscotch tousled mess.

Rockstar was terrified of everything but always looked like she was smiling!

Class Clown

Chloe was a big girl with lots of personality!

The ultimate in laziness!

She liked to follow me around the house. We once had to take her to the vet because she knocked out her front tooth. She was happy to pose for my entry in the 4th Annual Contest of Whatever.

I’m hoping, once summer is over, that I can locate another rescue guinea (or 2). I’d love a cat but I didn’t marry a cat lover! Ha!

When I look into the eyes of an animal, I do not see an animal. I see a living being. I see a friend. I see a soul.

A.D. WIlliams

Happy Wednesday!

Dear Quarantine Diary – Week #23

Tags

covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, family, humour

Dear Diary – My brother was responsible. He’s responsible for a lot of things. Like my fear of dark, confined spaces. I don’t remember exactly how this one came about, but it’s been a family joke for years: 23 is “OLD”. We threw my brother an “Over the Hill” party for his 23rd birthday, complete with sympathy cards and mittens with strings.

I don’t know about you, but this year is starting to feel old. We’re in our 23rd week of 2021, and while patios open tomorrow and 15 people can now attend a funeral, we still can’t get our hair cut or have a bbq with our neighbours. Which is ok with me. I spend enough waking hours listening to 5 year elephant having temper tantrums next door Quarantine got “old” a long time ago.

When we begin to merge back into society from our isolation, I just hope some of our judgmental and “me-first” attitudes will have died off and we’ll think more of others. I hope we have learned to slow down, to breathe, and to appreciate the blessings in our life, especially the people we have missed. And I hope that we learn to shower, and brush our teeth, maybe even dress in something other than our pajamas before we leave the house.

Dear Diary – I totally misread the subject line of my Michael’s flyer. It said “liquidex” but I thought it said “Mix your painting style with liquor”. That could be interesting!

Dear Diary – Tuesday was my final Intro to Comedy Writing course and “presentation” day. Some people went all out with costumes and sound effects. I sang my song, “Queen of His Latrine” for the class, but I wish I had done more. I could have borrowed a cowboy hat. I could have blackened my front teeth. I could sung it with much more of a country twang. It’s probably a one-hit wonder (and by one-hit, I mean one person laughed), but you never know. I have some ideas for church-based skits, if I can russle up some partners in crime. And as a “grad”, I’ve been invited to join a private monthly comedy gathering to share ideas. I’m pretty sure I shouldn’t leave my day job just yet, sewing facemasks and pretending to cleaning the house, but one of these days I’ll figure out what I’m supposed to do when I grow up.

Growing up is mandatory. Growing up is optional.

Walt Disney

Dear Diary – I did a push up today. Well, actually I tripped over a pair of shoes, but I had to use my arms to get back up, so close enough. Now I need chocolate.

Dear Diary – The gift I ordered for Hubby for our 25th wedding anniversary arrived today. I now know why people steal packages from the front porch…because it takes too freaking long to open the package to steal its contents!

Dear Diary – All winter we looked forward to the day when we could go out and walk, and start to lose some of this covid weight. There were some glorious evenings when we did just that. I have yoga pants that have been worn thin at the thigh to prove it! Now it’s getting hot and the covid weight is clinging to me like skin on a hot vinyl car seat. Peeling it off is going to be a long, painful process!

This week, Hubby and I pulled ourselves from our stinky couch, the one with butt impressions that hug our huge hynies so perfectly. Even though the sun was low on the horizon, the temperature was just above body temperature, so that as we perspired, the evening breeze offered no relief. It did not deter our neighbours from having a party. These daddies ducked their ducklings for an early Boys Night Out.

Only one defiantly stared at me when I took a picture so I could inform on their illegal, non-social-distanced gathering.

Farther down the street, we discovered a “private party” at another bar, as well as an unsavoury character in the shadows.

We’ve had drug dealers on our street before, but I never expected this kind of shameful behaviour in plain view. I mean, there are innocent, wide-eyed children playing soccer and riding bikes on this street. There goes the neighbourhood!

Good fences make good neighbours. Bad neighbours make good fertilizer.

Unknown

CFFC: Shiny

Tags

CFFC, family, family history, photography

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

Nana J’s bracelet

Grandma R’s James Sadler teapot

Nana J’s wedding rings

The smallest cameo came from Rome; the silver was Nana J’s. My Dad bought me the others.

My $1,000 shoes (that I bought for $10)

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

Sheherazade Goldsmith

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

Writing Letters

Tags

faith, family, letters, stamping, writing

It’s true – the art of writing letters is slowly becoming a lost art. Who has the time to put thought on paper (once you find some paper)? Then you have to find an address, a stamp and even a mailbox! Sometimes it is just easier to send a quick text or post a quick message on Facebook. I get that! I’m guilty of doing it too.

But once upon a time, I used to write a lot of letters. Hubby and I started our relationship on paper. He was a poor student in another city and phone calls cost money! I wrote crazy stories with small-town caracatures to a homesick friend studying in the city. When our worlds seemed to be crashing down around us, another friend and I encouraged each other by sharing prayers and scripture. Baring our broken hearts to each other, we helped each other breathe in the darkness, until the sun started shining again.

Though housebound during covid, I once again have time to write and have re-discovered the pleasure in putting pen to paper. And for good reason:

Letters are more personal because they contain my effort, my time, and my handwriting. Those notes are often in or tucked into one of my handmade cards, made or chosen with that person in mind. My hope is that I will lift their spirits, and as I work, mine is lifted as well.

They take more time, which means I am more careful as I consider each word and phrase. I can extinguish inflammatory words before I create firenados. With my emotions in check, I am less likely to discourage, hurt, or offend the reader. And when I share my emotions or concerns, I can be concise, sharing the whole story without interruptions and distractions, and leaving other “cans of worms” unopened.

Letters can be read and re-read by the recipient. It gives them time to consider their response, if one is needed. It limits the number of folks who may feel they have a right to weigh in with their opinion or share their story. But most importantly, it may be something that the reader needs to read again and again, a reminder that they are special and they are loved.

Let us all then leave behind letter of love and friendship, family and devotion, hope and consolation, so that the future generations will know what we valued and believed and achieved.

Marian Wright Edelman

My “Sanctuary”

Tags

family, home, home renovations

Normally Wednesdays have been “wilderness wednesday” but there isn’t much wilderness in my backyard. The birds don’t visit my feeder. Even the squirrels, just like my neighbours, are holing up in their cozy abodes and venture out only to get groceries. And now, with the impending declaration of a “state of emergency” in our province, and living in a region that has been hit particularly hard by Covid, that isn’t likely to change.

So I decided today to share a few pics of my new office/craft room/spare room which I generally refer to as my “sanctuary”. It’s become the place I now tuck in to write or craft away a few hours, somewhat in peace. I have family visitors popping in to say “Hi” during their bathroom break! 🙂

I wouldn’t call the space complete, but it’s well on the way, and for the moment, relatively tidy! So a good time to snap pics because I know it won’t stay this pristine for long!

As you know, it took me several weeks to paint the room blue, and it would have taken longer without the help of a friend (who booped the ceiling with the roller in plenty of places so don’t look up!)

Let me give you a quick tour:

I had hoped to purchase a day bed, but elected to keep Little Guy’s bed instead and save some pennies. The drawers are handy for storing fabric (and a change of clothes for Big Guy if he ever gets to visit again)! I debated a long time whether to go for a “beach” theme or a “videogame” theme. I decided “beach” was more grown-up! At some point, I will print and frame some of my favourite photos from our 2 summer holidays at a cottage near the beach. It’s my “happy place”. I also have my eye on some fluffy and beach-vintage-y pillows, and I will re-cover some of these in softer colours. My hope is to create a comfy corner to read.

Nana’s Dresdon Plate Quilt

I searched my symptoms on WebMD and it said it said I needed to be on a warm beach sipping pina coladas!

Unknown

I own a lot of craft crap! Moving it upstairs forced me to sort and purge, no small undertaking. I hid a lot in the closet and there’s still a shelf in the basement (shh!) My hope is that organized, easy access will help me recapture my “creative mojo”! I put out some cards to inspire me.

The desk is nothing like I wanted, but it belongs to Hubby and he wants to keep it for sentimental reasons. I would paint it white, but the sentiment comes from happy memories of refinishing it with his father. On the plus side, the drawers are deep and it’s been a handy surface for crafting, writing, and cutting sewing patterns. My new cow desk lamp gives me whimsy; the oversized tea cup for pens and pencils, a nod to my love of tea. The tissue paper flowers were a mother’s day gift a million years ago! I started to write a book and I need to suck it up and get back to it, so I prominantely placed this reminder: Let your faith be bigger than your fear.

I need a proper desk chair though…this lawn chair is uncomfortable!

Finally, behind me, a new shelving unit for form and function: more craft crap, and some pretty things to make me smile.

The top shelf is my “geek shelf”: Minecraft Lego, Big Bang Theory Lego, and my Mercy figurine. I play the battle angel, Mercy, almost exclusively on Overwatch! The bottom 3 shelves contain my stamps.

The middle shelves have more personal things. Some sea shells from my Grandfather, who loved to walk the beach in South Carolina early in the morning. He made me promise not to let Nana throw them out if he died first! I also have a photograph my aunt took of my family with the catamaran my Dad built. I don’t remember the boat (except the faded red paw print on the sail) but I have many happy memories of camping and canoeing on this lake. A blue glass bowl that belonged to my other grandmother. I seem to remember it with hard candy in it? And she loved blue. I also have her small white tea cup with exotic birds. Perhaps they are enjoying the sun in palm trees next to a white, sandy beach and turquoise waters.

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Which is where I’d like to be.

Because there’s nothing more beautiful than the way the ocean refuses to stop kissing the shoreline, no matter how many times it’s sent away.

Sarah Kay

Happy Wednesday!

Dear Quarantine Diary #37

Tags

baking, Christmas, covid-19 diary, covid-19 humour, dear diary, disasters, family, humiliation, humour

Dear Diary – Last week, I arranged to go into the church office to finish printing the new church directory. I arrived in the early afternoon. Only the caretaker was there but no worries, I have still have a key. As a worship leader, I sometimes have to open the church to set up or rehearse.

When I arrived, the front door was unlatched, so I went in and dropped off my purse and box of materials. I went back for my mugs of tea, and the door latched behind me. But even though my key would go in the lock, it would not turn. It used to stick in the cold, so I threw up my hood and hoofed it around the building to the back door.

It was cold. The back of the church is surrounded by open fields and the wind can feel like a gale wind even on a relatively calm day. Again, my key went in the lock, but it refused to turn. And the latch looked pretty shiny….

I returned to the front door and rang the door bell. I rattled the latch. I pounded on the glass. I called for the caretaker. For half an hour.

I couldn’t drive home because my license was in my purse…safely tucked away in the warm church office. I couldn’t call anyone…because my cell phone was in my purse, which was tucked away in the warm church office.

By the time the very wary, and slightly surprised custodian appeared, I was ready to drop to my knees in surrender, my energy exhausted.

The locks had been changed weeks before. Both pastors knew I was coming in. No one told me. Missing my old job just a little less….

Dear Diary – We are officially in Lockdown, or “The Grey Zone”. I think “The Black Zone” would be a great name for comic strip like “The Far Side” or a sci-fi series reminiscent of “the Twilight Zone”. If only I could draw….I’m wondering if I should rename my Quarantine Diary, the “Quarantine Chronicles”?

It means more restrictions: dining and non-essential retailers are curbside only, churches are closed, fitness/ recreational/entertainment facilities are closed, indoor gatherings are suspended, outdoor gatherings are limited to 10. With Big Guy in one city, and my folks in another town, “Christmas” may be postponed this year.

I’m not happy.

I’ve been a “good girl” and followed every government request. I have even extended grocery shopping to every 10 days. Which is a lot of bags for this little frame. I’ve pouted over others’ posts of family photos, walks on the beach, sunsets at the cottage. I just want to open gifts by the tree, play games, and eat too much with my family, like we do every year. I don’t need to shop or party, or leave the house. I just want to be with the people who mean the world to me. I know it’s just one day! I know I was blessed to spend weeks with them in the Spring, when lockdown seemed like an amusing interruption to routine. I know there are plenty of others who feel the same way as I do. The heart wants what the heart wants. 🙂

The rain falls upon the just. And also on the unjust fellas. But mostly it falls upon the just cause the unjust have the just’s umbrella. Cormac McCarthy

It hasn’t helped that I had an unfortunate surprise this weekend. My Mom posted on Facebook that my Dad was in the hospital, a message she never intended for me to see. I saw! I called! All is right with the world! 🙂

He’s going to be okay and will probably hate that I posted this. Mom will hate that I posted this too. IF ever again, they’ll call! My home is like a squirrel’s nest – full of nuts! And my “nuts” are pretty precious!

It never hurts your eyesight to look at the bright side of things. Barbara Johnson

As for me and my household, no matter where we’ll be, we’ll worship the Lord.

Preparations for Christmas are moving forward. Most of the gifts have arrived. The tree is up. I’m slowly baking my way through my checklist.

My unconventional ugly tree – how many video games and movies can you identify?

Every year I admire the array of magazine covers with pretty cookies. Every year I try to duplicate them. Every year, my cookies taste great but look “meh”.

Saturday afternoon I made icing. It tasted weird. I divided it and added flavours – lemon, lime and almond. It tasted like lemon or lime or almond…plus weird. I investigated; it was the icing sugar. Maybe it absorbed something funky from the plastic container? But icing+cookie was ok, and I hate to throw anything out. I iced my cookies and resolved to make another batch in the morning.

The new batch with fresh icing sugar was yummy, but the viscose textur meant the longer it sat in the piping bag, the more solid it became. Soon two hands were not enough and the bag threatened to split. I scooped and thinned it, but now it dribbled slowly from the bag. They’re “meh” again this year, but taste good with tea!

Dear Diary – I aired out my winter sheets and pjs on the clothesline yesterday. How did women wash and hang out wet clothes in winter? My fingers were pretty cold by the time I was done. Hubby scoffed, “it’s only -10…with wind chill, that makes it feel like -18C”. That would explain it! My things weren’t out long. The pillow cases were wind socks and I didn’t want to hunt down my nighties in my neighbours’ yards.

Dear Diary – I asked! I asked my friend, “do I need evaporated milk or condensed milk for fudge”? I should have followed my instinct because I bought the wrong one. It took forever to find a recipe that would use the wrong one. I followed it exactly and I made inedible chocolate fudge. It’s a horrible, grainy, pudding-like brown blob of poo! Any takers?

Hello Darkness, my old friend. Simon & Garfunkel