I just cleaned a squirrel-sized hairball out of the tub drain – who says I don’t have a life?

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Yeah, I know you think I’m all glamorous and all.  That my makeup is always impeccable.  That my outfits are always trendy and Pinterest worthy. Continue reading

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Thanksgiving, PTSD and kindness

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This weekend is Thanksgiving for us here in Canada.  It sort of sneaks up on us with still warm days leaning into fall.  We hang onto our (not politically correct anymore) Indian Summers with rays of late afternoon sun blinking through golden leaves as we pause and give thanks for the bounty of our lives. Continue reading

something I learned from her

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There are things that stay with us. Words that matter and have meaning far beyond the moment they are spoken.

I was always a little intimidated by her quick wit; the ability and forthrightness as she said what was on her mind. In awe of her intelligence. In another sphere she could have been a doctor, lawyer, an author. As a cherished Grandmother and lover of Christmas, her days were full.

She let me know that contrary to what I was taught, it is ok to drink beer from a bottle. It’s ok to sit on the beach with the wind blowing our hair and laugh and drink beer as we sat huddled in down jackets determined to enjoy the frigid day at the beach.

She hugged me tight the last time I saw her and said “…we had a good run, Susie.  We had a good run”.

She taught me to look at things I can’t change and be able to say “….we had a good run” while I step into tomorrow.

 

 

overheard in the toilet seat aisle

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Searching out a new laundry basket, I was in close proximity to the toilet seat aisle. Like all those housey-type things are bunched together for convenience  in our shopping. It can’t be for the impulse  factor like end-of-aisle placement with these items that are less than dreamy.

I hear snickering and laughing and “toilet seat man? ya gotta be kidding” and I thought to myself we’re all just a little bit goofy about toilets and such no matter how  sophisticated we pretend to be.

Why, I feel like I’ve truly arrived in a new workplace when I discover the pooping bathroom.  You all know what I mean; the secluded bathroom away from the shared stalls where you can hunker down in a comfortable squat with the quiet of your own thoughts.

With chosen laundry basket in hand I walked around the end of the aisle and saw two young guys dressed in slouchy, baggy pants, faces sporting piercings and interesting tattoos pretty much everywhere.  Strikingly sculptured, shaved and coloured hair completed the look.  And I heard one guy say “yeah, I was at my Gramma’s last night and her fu**in’  toilet seat is cracked.  Pinched my ass! I’m gonna surprise her and buy this and put it on when I go over tomorrow”. The response from his buddy was “yeah, that’s a fu**in’ nice thing to do.”

And I smiled and thought it sure is.