A Few More Random Thoughts...

I thought the title of this blog appropriate since most of my thoughts, or at least the ones I share here, are random.

I was speaking with Ed and Becky B. on the phone a couple nights ago...the call included a personal invitation to visit them at their cottage, and I was assured that this 'cottage' is not a shack in the woods with no running water and other positive ammenities but rather a home. They even went so far as to offer to send me a picture of the cottage to ease any lingering fear I might have of being stranded. Ed went to great length also to put my mind at rest that he has no less than nine blankets available just for me. I surely do appreciate the personalized invitation - what lovely friends you are, Ed and Becky. I really appreciate too the idea that you would send me a picture of your home so that I won't be filled with fear. The picture of your home isn't necessary, thank you. I trust you implicitly on that note. However, I would like a picture of the nine blankets. No offense intended, I'm just doing due diligence. Serious stuff, this blanket business.

I suffer a lot of harassing with regard to being cold. Another topic that I have endured a great deal of abuse about is how I wear my hair. I've blogged on this subject at least once before, I'm sure. I was visiting my father this past weekend and he felt it necessary to point out the fact that I'm getting very gray. Really? Damn. Thank goodness you told me...I would never have known. Time to get the chemicals out, I would say. Perhaps my father was shocked to see that his oldest child is old enough to have this much gray hair. Well Dad, at least I have hair. I don't mean that like it sounds...I'll explain in a minute.

Anyway, as I'm trying to explain why I have gray hair, Dad interrupted me with this: "You know who you look like with your hair like that?" Here we go, I thought. "You look like Tina Turner's husband...what was his name?..." Oh man...deep sigh. "Mr. Turner?", I say. "No really", Dad says "You know who I mean, right? He went to prison for wife beating...you look just like him". Sheesh. This is the worst comparison to date. It was several hours later at home that I remembered Mr. Turner's first name: Ike. I googled (another verb like 'blogged') Ike and Tina so that I could see how I resemble him. As I sweep aside my denial about how I could possibly look like a man named Ike that went to prison for wife beating, drug and weapons charges I am somewhat relieved that we don't look alike. At all. Triumphantly I call my father to relay this news. "Actually", he said "I think the man I'm thinking you look like is a wrestler. I can't think of his name". Oh, well now. That's much better.

Dad hasn't been to the barber in a while and was feeling a bit scraggly so he asked me if I would take the shears to his hair and trim him up. "That will be my pleasure", I said. (Insert evil laugh here). After I took the shears, set to the lowest level, straight up the back of his head, I asked if he wanted it all removed. Yup. Phew. The slogan 'measure twice, cut once' comes to mind. I went along fine from that point, cleaning things up nicely. Dad assured me that I wasn't hurting him, although he did object when I took a couple swipes inside his ears. After I was done and admiring my work I noticed that the eyebrows were a bit scraggly too. Dad showed me how to do the eyebrows holding them up with a comb. Well, I realized half way through shaving off the left eyebrow that I wasn't holding the comb correctly. All I can say is that I'm glad I started from the outside edge. Ooooooooooops. (Insert cringe here).

Have a happy and positive day, unless you've made other plans...
Helen

Where Does the Time Go?

On December 19th I wrote that it was getting close to Christmas, and since this is now January 7th, it would seem that some time has swept past since I last wrote. My intention had been to blog at least once more prior to Christmas, but, as you will notice, my intentions and my actions once again are not in alignment.

I see Michael gives note on his blog to Bluegrass Roots TV, a company that creates DVDs from live performances for a very reasonable price and they do a quality job. I know this because we (not me) ordered a DVD of a group called Bluegrass Ridge and it has been watched at our house (not me) no fewer than 4 times since it arrived via Canada Post last Friday.

I did enjoy picking the parcel up at the local postal outlet though. Apparently there is more stuff to arrive so Michael wasn't sure which parcel the postman had tried to deliver. After intercepting...picking up...the parcel, I called home on the cell phone. I suggested that it was pretty darn big and that I needed help to get it outside and strapped to the roof of the car. Needless to say, guess who appeared at the back door as soon as I backed into the driveway to see what I had brought home. I can never get him to come to the table for supper, but it just occured to me that were I to cover a DVD or CD with tomato sauce and some parmesan, perhaps he would make an appearance. Did you want ketchup with that, dear?

Hmmmm...what else can I relate today? I could tell you that my rice cakes just now were especially fresh, or I could tell you about the fantastic finds I have discovered in Frenchy's and the second-hand clothes store of late...

Speaking of clothes, I got new pyjamas for Christmas. I bought them myself and said that they were from Michael. My thought was that since he is constantly telling me that I dress like a lumber jack when I go to bed (sweatpants, big wool socks, long sleeved shirt, and a sweater...I like the very best the sweatshirt with the hood...yes, I wear the hood up) as I am in a never ending state of cold. Yesterday, much to my dismay, he counted the blankets on the bed. He said "Eight blankets?!?!?" Actually, dear, it's nine. You missed one. Anway, since the complaint is that I dress like a lumber jack and for some reason this has about as much appeal as...well, getting into bed beside a lumber jack, I decided to split the difference with him. I got new PJs that are ultra warm, and I thought, sexy. Based on the reaction to date, I have slightly missed the mark on that one. When you're done laughing, dear, the bathroom needs to be cleaned.

A friend related a story last week of a trip to LaSenza where he was supposed to be assisting his girlfriend in choosing stuff for her to model for him...it sounds like his head was on a swivel trying to take in all the sights in that store...at one point he thought he was going to have to hyperventilate into a D-Cup Bra. I can't say I've ever seen a bra shaped like a brown paper bag. I have a feeling the pyjamas they have there are not meant to keep one warm, but if a person were to pile on several pair at the same time, that might do it.

Keep smiling...
Helen