Tag Archives: dogs

The Sound A Clock Makes

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Like anything worth doing, it’s worth doing well.  And doing something ‘well’ is quite relative a term.  And I hate starting sentences with ‘and’.  Ugh.    

As I’m feverishly writing my next entry into the anthology of ‘Books People Will Read After I’m Dead’ I’ve been missing events and goings on to which I really should have been paying more attention.   As I was downing my glass of wine the other night, someone mentioned something about Tik Tok.  I’m thinking Nanny’s noisy clock that is currently hanging in her kitchen and dings every BLESSED HOUR ON THE HOUR, but no.  Tik Tok is an app for lip-syncing and karaoke-gone-awry.   It’s a social media app that lets a person download a video of someone singing badly to N’Sync or the Backstreet Boys or maybe amore current musician like the Biebs.  I’m thinking of doing ‘Bye-Bye’ ala JT with the curls and the baggy jeans and the fancy-dancy moves. 

 

I could join Tik Tok and connect with the peeps who are jammin’ to NKOTB and IT’S BRITTANY, BITCH.  Maybe somebody singin’ some Alanis…Yeah.  “Isn’t it Ironic?  Don’t ya think?”  I could so NOT do that.  Well.  Not well.  At all.  

 Maybe I’ll do a video of Mags when she borks at the ‘hood dogs.  She could be the next big thing!  Add some music and BAM she’s the four-legged Madonna of the doggo-world.  Maybe she could do a whole rap-thing. Instead of ‘Lose Yourself’ she could do ‘Poo Yo’self’.    EPIC.  

I’ll keep brain-storming some ideas whilst desperately trying to stay on-trend.  Do we still say ‘whilst’?   Ugh.  

 

I’m Going To Need a Shirt And My Lotion

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The wind is blowing a gale today and I’m feeling a little disheveled.  My book is up and out and I’m now grappling with the idea that there are actual people out there in the great wide world who are reading my words.  In a book.  I wrote.  I shake my head and try not to gauge reactions and try not to have thoughts of, “I wonder what they thought when this happened.”  

Instead of obsessing on things I can’t control, I’m choosing to play with my dog and post random shit that I think will entertain the masses as much as it does me.  You. Are. Welcome.

I’ve also been given the opportunity to observe the strange and irksome occurrences around me on a daily basis that keeps my mind busy and cause me to walk into arbitrary walls.  On purpose.   Here are a few:

Old People Driving – I am NOT the old person I am referring to.  I was cut off on the highway merge ramp today, by an ‘old’ lady driving her Honda CRV at 60kms an hour who refused to go the obligatory 100kms an hour, almost causing an accident and causing me to swear profusely.  Fun, wha?

No Shirt Sheila – Unfortunately, I was not privy to the shirtless woman wandering aimlessly around the mall, yesterday in her bra with a sweater tied around her waist whilst yelling into her phone, “I NEED MY LOTION BACK!” however, my niece and her daughters, and my daughter were witnesses to this craziness.  Sad I missed it.  And Gaawwddd Debby, give her the lotion BACK!

Irate complainers who complain about complaining – It’s a thing!  I love it!  No, really tell me more about how I piss you off when I fucking swear all of the fucking time, Goddammit.  I love you, tho.

On a positive note, puppies are in the world so, there’s that. 

 

Dinner With February

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Christmas is over and packed away.  January is winding down and the dreaded month of February is rearing its ugly head.  NO ONE likes February.  There is nothing magical or lovely about it.  Oh sure, there’s Valentine’s Day but that’s brief and fleeting and overly annoying.  February is fraught with unpredictable weather (at least here) and blue moods, and muddy porches and dirty windows and bone chilling cold.  What exactly is there to like?  Even the dog can’t stand February.  It’s too cold to go outside to pee, she is cranky that she can’t get in her walks and she gives me that sidelong look when I try to get her to play.  At all.  It’s like she’s too tired to even lift her head from a pillow and why would I even suggest she chase that stupid ball?!  

DON’T YOU KNOW IT’S ALMOST FEBRUARY?!  

It’s like I’m being ridiculous for even mentioning life goes on and it’s worth trying to make the best of it, isn’t it?  

NO. NO IT ISN’T.  IT’S FEBRUARY.

The least favourite of the more popular months, February is like the annoying relative that nobody likes and dreads him arriving to any family gathering.  It’s like the other 11 months are sitting around the dinner table all reveling in their own positive energy, and then HE walks in. 

 There’s December holidaying it up and drinking eggnog.  January is still recovering from ringing in a new year with December who steadily hands him water and Ibuprofen, not to mention January trying to keep up with all the resolutions he said he was going to make, but didn’t bother because there was just. Too. Much. Wine.  March is sitting stoicly playing with his grean beans because he is both feared and loved.  The older generation is adhering to the “Beware the Ides of March” bullshit and the younger ones are readying the beer kegs for March break.  Duuudddde.   Then April is laughing hysterically at the other end of the table about the first day for all the foolish pranks, the rain that will undoubtedly ensue and the whole Easter Bunny charade that brings CHOCOLATE.  Then he turns to May and starts talking smack about how one affects the other.  “There would be no flowers without my showers, you idiotic twat!”   May sits and laughs because there’s Queen Victoria’s birthday and the traditional May 2-4 weekend which brings yetanother camping extravaganza.  Duuuude.  June is warming up to July and August who all sit glowing in their inner warmth and bestowing happiness and rainbows to September, who has hit menopause.  Her hot flashes give way to cold snaps.  One minute she’s too hot and the next she needs a sweater.  October is chillin’ it and scaring the crap out of November with a Jack-o’-lantern he just carved and November resumes her knitting of a beautifully multi-coloured blanket of red, gold and orange.   There they are, all sitting waiting for HIM to walk in.  Finally, the door swings open and in strides February, soaked with freezing icicles dripping from his nose, his face blue with depression and a random red cinnamon heart stuck to his chest.  He takes a seat and his hands shake from the cold.  

Everyone stops what they are doing and stares.  “Oh.  You’re here” they say.  “Yeah.  What’s for dinner?” says February.  And then he starts, “Hey, January are you STILL hungover?!  HAHAHA!!   Pass the beans, March, don’t hog them.  Hey, October that’s one ugly whattya-callit?  Geezuz, JuneJulyAugust, can’t you three stop all the happiness and sunshine and rainbows bullshit?!   IT’S A BIT MUCH DON’T YOU THINK?”  

They all roll their eyes and continue with their dinner.  When it comes right down to it, as annoying as he is, he’s family.  “Gaawwwdd, did you guys SEE the amount of ICE I brought to the partay??!!  It’s EPIC!”  

Opinions About Opinion Pieces and Where To Put the Tuna Salad

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I just finished reading an opinion piece in the Independent that sounded like, if I were British, and young and still cared about where I put my tuna salad or even ate tuna salad for that matter, it sounded like I wrote it.  It got me thinking how I should be writing more opinion pieces and stuff about more important newsy crap like tuna salad and Theresa May’s lipstick, and less about my trials and tribulations of being abandoned by children and having to struggle my way through Menopause.  It hit me like trying to remove a sweaty workout bra.  Smacking myself in the face while trying to pull the soaked yet suddenly rigid material up over my head.  The idea is a good one, it’s the execution that’s tricky.  Also, it’s a total piss off and funny as hell at the same time.

Then I thought if I don’t write about the daughter-who-left-me-alone-and-sad or about the Big M, what the hell will I entertain ‘the lot’ about?  That’s you all.  The Lot.  Sounds like a great title for a book.  The Lot, a continuing saga about wine-binging children-rearing sweary-sadists who revel in the Writer’s hardships with gravity and battles with people-who-think-they-know-better.   Anyway, what would I write about?  I’ve listed possible incoming topics to keep everyone happy.  They are as follows:

1. Meghan Markle’s ridiculous spelling of her first name and how I hate her hair.  Seriously, what the hell is the ‘h’ in there for?  Am I supposed to say it ‘Megawn’?  Or ‘Meghawn’???   Or Duchess of Sussex, which fills me with unending amounts of joy that it fucking rhymes.  I think the Queen did that on purpose as a joke.  And her hair!  Don’t get me started.  It always looks like she slapped it up in a bun completed by the Queen’s pissed off lady-in-waiting and then stood in front of a fan blowing 125km/h to finish the look.

I really just want to run over and spray it down….

2. The merits of reading the news on the internet vs watching that shit on T.V.  First, I can yell at the computer, raise my fist and protest in ire and everyone just thinks I’m having a bad day with spelling.  Also, I can say nasty things or laugh out loud and colleagues think I’m just reading a memo from the boss.  I can get various viewpoints from various sources who are questionable and be like the rest of humanity, and totally buy it.  I can also read opinion pieces that inspire me to write opinion pieces that spew my opinion and include tuna salad analogies and Magenta lipstick.  And judge Meghawn Markle’s hair.  Sorry, Duchess of Sussex.  That Queen is such a jokester!

3. Taking a cue from my dog and be done with petty life shit.  Seriously, that dog has got some issues with noise, laughter, people, kids, babies and other dogs.  She can’t stand loud ringing noises from the T.V., doesn’t enjoy the doorbell, she can’t stand my son.  At all.  She hates to have someone talk to her unless it’s me, then she can tolerate me in short spurts.  She will only eat her food when the dish is COMPLETELY FULL AND NO LESS.  Will NOT roll over, give a paw or lay down – those commands are just for dumb dogs who don’t know any better.  She cannot stand having her picture taken, doesn’t like baths, insists on diving under the covers because she is cold and sits on top of my head because she knows it pisses me off.   She sits on Hubby’s legs, then growls when he tries to pet her, defends her right to be perched on the softest pillow in all the land and DEFINITELY would NEVER eat off of anything other than your fingers or her dish.

“What?! Stop looking at me, Human”

I clearly need boundaries like these.

Now that I have some clear cut topics for future posts and opinion pieces, be sure to pop by to see how I delve into the complexities of these issues…or at least the mystery of where I put my tuna salad.

A Top Ten

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I’ve been stuck in bed all day with back spasms.  Mags is happy to hang out with me as long as I remain still and unobtrusive…or have treats to make her experience lying around even more enjoyable.  Because, really…it’s all about her.    The damned laptop is obviously a hindrance to her attempts at sitting right on top of my chest, which obviously is the BEST possible place for her to lie down.  That laptop HAS GOT TO GO.  It’s presence is almost offensive.

IMG_3152

Uh, hi!  Whatcha doin? Move this.  It’s in ma way. 

In the spirit of boredom and any kind of movement causing massive amounts of pain, I’ve collected a list of the Top Ten Things To Do When You Encounter Back Pain, or Held Hostage By a Fanatical Maniac Who Is About to Chop Off Your Legs.  It’s An Either Or Situation.

A long title, I realize but I have nothing else to do, and really they both are kinda the same.  They involve solitary confinement and pain, although having someone take an axe to your legs could be construed as a tad more painful.  On the other hand,  if you’ve ever had back spasms, you would WISH someone would just saw you in half.  So…

  1.  Watch a movie – I spent the morning in bed watching Practical Magic which was an old Sandra Bullock/Nicole Kidman flick. Not bad for an early morning movie and it was pretty cute.  Who knew Aiden Quinn was such a handsome hero in those days?

9. Eat all of the leftover Halloween Candy – I haven’t eaten it all…yet. But since we had so many kids last night, we had to send son to get some more and are now left with more than we thought.  I’m sending recon missions downstairs for mini Kit Kat bars…

8. Nap – never overrated and the dog joins you.

7.  Send the kids to the store for shit you don’t need – THEY LOVE THAT.  You suddenly realize you are short on pencils or don’t have enough chalk paint for that project you will never get around to.  Send the kids on the hunt for the elusive colour of salmon chalk paint ( does not exist) or number 2 pencils that you have no use for and can’t even sharpen, BECAUSE WHO STILL OWNS AN OLD FASHIONED PENCIL SHARPENER?!  It’s entertaining.  Good. Times.

6.  Write down the cooking instructions for dinner – Make them complicated like lamb chops stuffed with asparagus and goat cheese…Yeah. They will give up right after reading ‘lamb’ in a fury of WHAT THE HELL! expressions and helpless abandon and order pizza.  You get the extra slice with whatever you want on it for allowing them to give up on dinner so quickly.  They will be ever so grateful for not having to burn the house down trying to make that lamb dish a reality.   YOU. ARE. AN. AWESOME. MOM

5.  Organize your Christmas list – JUST KIDDING. Who the hell wants to do that?!  It’s a day where you can lay around watching t.v. and taking naps, and have those people you call family wait on YOU for a change.  Why spoil that with something constructive and practical?  Gawwwdddd.  WORK WITH ME HERE.

4.  Read that book you have been meaning to read – you have all kinds of time and nowhere to be. Get into that novel that’s been sitting on your shelf. A great way to pass the time.  Immersing yourself in someone else’s world is just what you need.

3.  A long soak in a hot bath – good for the muscles, good for the soul.  Make sure a glass of wine is accompanying you.  Or the bottle.  Whatever works.  You ARE in pain.

2.  The awesomeness of pain medication should not be overlooked – It can make you a little sleepy, but also a little loopy. In essence, it’s the one opportunity you can act drunk and disorderly without actually being either of those things.   Feel free to insult the kids or throw a tantrum because your coffee is not 98 degrees Fahrenheit, because dammit you earned it.  Tell those kids to keep it down and when they complain, just say “REALLY?!  I SPENT 25 HOURS IN LABOUR WITH A TEN POUND BABY COMING OUT OF MY HOO-HA, WHICH  BY THE WAY, NOW LOOKS LIKE SOMEBODY RAN OVER A PIZZA WITH A SEMI- FOR YOU TO COMPLAIN ABOUT MY PAIN?!  OK.  WHATEVER.  YOU DO YOU.”  Then weep wildly.  They’ll feel bad and get you whatever you want.

  1.  Nothing – the number one thing to do, is to do nothing. Ice, heat, rest, eat, repeat.

The pain meds are now kicking in.  Hope you enjoy a lovely fall day and get those kids to pamper you whether you have back pain or are held hostage by a maniacal fan, or not.