Dear Quarantine Diary #17

Tags

dear diary, humour, sewing, squirrels

Dear Diary -It’s that time of year again: the big stink. A storm blew through just before I came back to the city and knocked thousands of apples down. They are small, hard and rife with blemishes, and in the July heat, quickly turn to cider. Last year I cut and froze bags of apple slices and I made apple jelly. I nearly melted in the process. This year I picked and froze a bag of whole apples for jelly…when it’s much cooler! Saturday was among one of the hottest days. The three of us bundled up to protect ourselves from the wasps, and filled every garbage can, bin and box I could find. Tuesday night we dragged them to the curb for a yard waste truck to pick them. Little Guy kicked the first bin, sending a thick plume of fruit flies in my face. The trick is to hold your breath so you don’t inhale them. I wonder if they can lay eggs in your brain?

The squirrels, however, are in 7th Heaven. As was the young skunk I spied strolling in the yard one morning. I wonder if he’s the fellow who started burrowing under the front steps. I filled in his hole with dirt and orange peel. So far, no further excavation. The birds have visited too: robins, cardinals, blue jays, gold finches and even a woodpecker.

We’re pretty sure this is a squirrel…

The cutest visitor was a brown baby bunny (“bb”). A mean, black squirrel chased him into the bushes. I was just “awing” when bb scampered up behind the squirrel. The squirrel stared at bb, and they nuzzled noses. Then the squirrel started chasing bb around the lilac tree several times and I realized they were playing. It was like watching a Bugs Bunny cartoon. What’s up Doc?

Dear Diary – I really thought this headline had nailed it. I was browsing through my WordPress Reader, and I thought it said this:

Record Temperatures, Long Lines and Increasing Sarcacity Will Greatly Test the Patience of Americans This Summer.

Now, I know that Sarcacity isn’t a word, but it sounds like it could be. The actual word was scarcity. But you gotta admit, unlike my blog stats, sarcasm is on the rise. Just browse Facebook posts for 30 seconds and you’ll see I’m right.

Dear Diary – This week I sang at an outdoor worship service, all good old-timey songs. I endured grocery shopping with all the city folk who don’t know how to follow arrows. I went through the Tim Horton’s drive thru twice, and enjoyed a sticky doughnut to celebrate my late friend’s birthday! She would have approved.

I sold 6 face masks to 2 friends, and I enjoyed getting caught up. I pulled out some Fall fabric – might as well look fashionable!

Mom tells me my Dad bought some Christmas fabric. Stocking stuffers anyone!?!

I went looking for my 2019 tax documents, which I never found, and ended up cleaning out 2 boxes filled with tax forms starting in 1997! I earn the same salary! $0! I also did another drawing lesson. I’d better keep my day job.

We had to tidy our laundry room for the gas guy and I’m taking bets on how long it will take us to fill the space with useless junk. The odds are not in my favour.

 I’m heading back to my folks, with or without Little Guy, but my laptop is coming with me, so he might be too. We repurposed a Scrabble board for a game my Aunt made using another repurposed board that went missing. My Mom found the missing board the next day! Murphy’s Law.

Dear Diary –

Courtesy of Pinterest

What’s In My Cup? Monday Dreamin’

Tags

#whatsinmycup, beach, humour, photography, tea, what's in my cup

Happy Monday!

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 #14

Tags

bathing suit, dear diary, humour

Dear Diary – The temperature in the pool has been slowly climbing all week. Yesterday it was 92F. Some would say that’s too warm, but as someone who suffers with a chronic condition, it’s nice to be able to get wet quickly, and actually spend time enjoying floating in the pool. No more gasping, yipping and groaning as I tiptoe around the edge until I feel brave enough to slowly dunk my body like a doughnut in a cup of coffee.

Of course, there’s still a lot of gasping, yipping and groaning as I struggle into my bathing. Two years ago I visited the Little Shop of Horrors to purchase a one piece black bathing suit. I left that shop feeling slightly optimistic that I wouldn’t scar the children on the beach. I felt optimistic as I stood on the beach. Then I saw the photos. My inner babe passed out, and when she regained consciousness, immediately pulled on stretchy pants and retired to the couch with chips. Two years older with my covid body, I look like an albino hippo strapped into  my suit.

We all have hourglass figures; your sand just settles in different places.
– Octavia Spencer

My bikini is not much better. I wore it the first time I went swimming here, appropriately covered by a t-shirt. Which wasn’t so bad until it was time to get out. My ability to dress myself has been hindered of late by a frozen shoulder. Combine that with a wet t-shirt that sticks to your skin and rolls, and pretty soon I was an albino hippo trapped in a orange snare. My mother had to set me free.

Yesterday something didn’t feel right in my one-piece suit. One of the “chest” pads was all mushed up weird, giving my curves some radical angles. And the pads were enclosed in Lycra so there was no quick fix. It required a series of yoga poses to sort it out, in the pool where I could be comfortable and discreet, but I felt like I should have bought myself a drink first.

Floating in the pool is very relaxing, watching the clouds and listening to the birds . The other evening, 3 gold finches perched in a nearby tree and serenaded us. Actually it sounded more like sarcasm and heckling, but I don’t speak finch. Shortly after that, a squirrel sneaked by us, averting his eyes.

Tomorrow I’m going shopping for new pool noodles. My noodle disintegrated into several pieces, leaving little green foam confetti floating in the pool. Good news! As a kid, I could never float. I’d immediately sink the bottom of the pool, and in order to pass my swimming lessons and get my badge, I had to hold my breath to hold myself up. My covid weight has eliminated that problem.

Dear Diary – I’m contemplating some sewing projects including Celtic quilting. We made one for my brother and his wife when they were married years ago. My Mom dug out her patterns and books. Unfortunately, at some point, everything got wet, maybe during the basement flood of 2019! It was mouldy, stuck together and stinky. We managed to salvage a few patterns outside to air out. It rained in the evening and by the time we remembered the patterns, they had been pounded to pulp.

Nana’s Celtic Quilt (same pattern as the one we made for my brother)

Big Guy also provided me a large box of fabulous fabrics, and since most communities in my province are making masks in public mandatory, I’ve started producing masks to sell. There have been the usual challenges…I have ironed and sewn seams on the wrong side, have struggled to thread the needle, and stabbed myself with pins. My thumb has more holes in it than the pin cushion. The heat hasn’t helped. There are moments when even my fingers are sweating. And my frozen shoulder has made it impossible to put my long, frizzy hair up! Remember that scene in The Seven Year itch when Marilyn Monroe stands over the subway grate in her pretty white dress, and it blows up. Dad caught me standing in front of the fan, like Marilyn Monroe. I was too hot to be ashamed. I might have hugged the fan, but I was worried my hair would get caught in the fan and I couldn’t wait 3 weeks for a hair appointment.

I posted a pic of my fabric and one of my masks on Facebook, explaining that I was selling them for $5. I’ve sewn more than a dozen. As of last night, 16 friends liked my post. I guess if I don’t sell any, I’ll be a well-coordinated covid fashionista! Both of my bathing suits are black so I’ll always be coordinated on a beach!

Friday’s Tune: Canada’s Really Big

Tags

arrogant worms, Canada, humour, music

It’s summer and to start it off, Canada celebrated its birthday. Mostly without fanfare because we are all staying home. Which will also mean fewer road trips this summer.

BUT you can still experience the great Family Road trip right at home. Just pile everyone in the car in the driveway for a few hours. Once the heat threatens to overwhelm and the electronic devices are dying, throw in a cd for a fabulous family sing-a-long. I can recommend just about anything by the Arrogant Worms. Our favourite album is Live Bait, released in 1997, and in honour of Canada Day, this Friday’s Tune is Canada’s Really Big…the classy orchestral version!

So stand up and be proud and sing out very loud
We stand out from the crowd ’cause Canada’s really big

Happy Friday!

Full Lyrics

Dear Quarantine Diary #13

Tags

dear diary, family, humour, music

Dear Diary – Best hug ever! It’s been over 3 months since I saw Big Guy in person. I think that’s the longest we’ve been apart. Of course, we talked and after I returned to the city, we resumed our weekly “Halo night”. But nothing is the same as being together in person. He came down for the weekend, with a large basket of “priority laundry” and a black hawk airplane cookie cutter he made on his 3D printer. So we baked cookies too. We waved him off Sunday evening 10 lbs lighter (hair/beard cut), with 4 loads of clean laundry, and a clean car. Happy Mama!

Dear Diary – I spent the morning participating in a small, distanced outdoor recording session. For the most part, it went well. There were a few false starts, a key signature change and a set-shift to accommodate the sun. Anyone who has played or spoken outside understands the challenges. The biggest, of course, being the wind. Though my pages were taped to the keyboard stand, ironically page 2 fell flat and page 3 tried to fly away as we were singing “Be the wind inside my sails”. While a bunch of pages skittered down the driveway, page 3 caught on my skirt, allowing me to grab it in time for the bridge. I was flustered by the near-disaster. I once played a flute offertory while Little Guy clung to my skirts, and entertained himself by rocking the music stand. I planted my foot on the stand and kept going, much to the astonishment of those with a front row view of the “action”.

If evolution works, how come mothers only have two hands? – Milton Berle

Speaking of front row views, during the next song, the eldest child of the household tried to sneak out the front door. I heard the door and I could see Dad’s head following him as he edged along the porch until he could jump and run to his destination. Not only did we catch him on tape, but I caught Dad’s face, as he followed him with his eyes.

I’m pretty sure my Dad has given me the same look a time or two. No harm done. Personally, I thought it was delightful reminder of family life. 🙂

Dear Diary – We celebrated our 24th wedding anniversary on Monday. I decided I wasn’t cooking. Since there’s nowhere to go, we took a chance and ordered in something special.

It was a great pizza. The wine was purchased back in April during the lock down when I went shopping for pink champagne.

If only we had played video games too…

Dear Diary – Of course! On the day that I’m leaving for a 3 week vacation at my parents, and I’m running late, Hubby calls to tell me my computer charger is broken. Little Guy has been living on my laptop for weeks and it was one of the incentives for coming with me to my folks instead of staying in the city. Dad to the rescue – he found a charger I can borrow that works until I can find a replacement. I pretty sure Hubby and I are jinxed it. We were just discussing purchasing a new laptop for me and giving this one to Little Guy. We did this the last time I got a new laptop, and it completely died the very next day. It only stands to reason that history is repeating itself.

Dear Diary – Happy Canada Day!

I woke to Westminster chimes at 6 a.m. Dad forgot to turn off the clock outside my bedroom. The sun had already risen but since I was up, I stumbled outside without my glasses and in my nightie, to snap a few pics of the morning mist, before stumbling back to bed. I looked at the pictures at a respectable hour. Apparently I wasn’t the only turkey awake at that hour. My photo caught 3 more in the field…

While we didn’t have any of the usual Canada Day activities, like the classic car show, we still enjoyed a BBQ. As the last crimson band of sky started to fade, I noticed nature’s fireworks in the grass…fireflies. And once it was dark, our neighbours treated us to a short but brilliant display of fireworks to usher in summer.

… their shining branches dropped glowing flowers down upon the hobbits…there were fountains of butterflies that flew glittering into the trees; there were pillars of coloured fires that rose…there was a red thunderstorm and a shower of yellow rain; there was a forest of silver spears that sprang suddenly into the air…and came down again into the Water with a hiss…” -― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring

Are we ready for 2020, Level 7?

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?

Wilderness Wednesday: Dynamic Duo

Tags

animals, dynamic duos, humour, nature, nature photography, photography, squirrels, Wilderness Wednesday

Laurel & Hardy. Lucy & Ethel. Laverne & Shirley. Shaggy & Scooby-Doo.

All comedic classic duos that captured our hears and made a lasting impression.

I have 2 more…teen squirrels. A couple of red-headed, thundering scamps whose adorable cuteness make your heart melt (so that you overlook the poop). As each day passes, these rascals are exploring their world more and more. They can hang upside from the brick and swing from my chair like nobody’s business, and my clothespins have never tasted so good.

We’re not sure 100% if there are 2 or 3 teens, or if Mama has finally lost her baby belly and she’s joining in the fun, but they sure are entertaining!

This is my best side

Double Trouble

Did you say something?

Pretty pose

Sharing Secrets

Keep a low profile

Scheming…

Who me?

Yeah, buddy! I’ve got my eye on you!

Happy Wednesday!