Three days old.

 

It is a Sunday night in dark and cold November, and I am waiting for JG to arrive home with pizza for our supper. A bit unusual as I mostly try to put on a fairly formal Sunday Dinner – a more planned and elaborate meal than what would appear during the week. But we had that dinner yesterday, with guests, and I really felt that I could not face Cooking (note the Capital Letter indicating an Heroic Effort) two days in a row. And so, when asked what I had planned for dinner, I plaintively asked for pizza. We have to drive into the village to get it as the delivery service for our pizza does not come this far out into the bush. Or, not normally. Once my ingenious brother-in-law persuaded the guys that run the place to bring a birthday gift of a big pie to JG. It was well, as they say, received.

So was the dinner last night, as far as I could tell. Most of the cake was either consumed or sent home with our guests, and the main course disappeared quickly and thoroughly. JG loves to have people in for dinner. Me, not so much, although he does help out a lot if we do.

Hiatus

It is now Monday night, and I am warm because the two vests that I ordered on line, with more than a bit of trepidation, arrived today and they both fit or are close enough. One quilted ‘puffer’ vest and one plush vest with, I am informed, a telephone pocket. Since JG uses a shirt pocket and the next generation down uses the back pockets of their jeans, I am not really sure about this. As well, phones are supposed to sit on a table or be attached to a wall and not ring during supper time, tell your friends … yeah. That was then, for sure. There is also a thing, I am told, called a butt dial. JG does not need this, because he can make a phone call by mistake with his index finger. As can I. If I do put the phone into this pocket, as well, I will probably forget where it is.

It is the last week in November. It is almost That Time again. You know, the time to figure out what to give all of your loved ones for Christmas. Something that will surprise and delight them, without being too hard on the bank balance. Something different. ‘Is this my shirt’, JG asks me, each Joyous Noel, no matter how cleverly I try to wrap it. Thank goodness for the ED’s significant other, who researches and buys on line for me. That he also carves turkey is an added attraction. Even though he does better at Wordle than I do.

Wednesday

Time does fly when you are having fun. A few years back I had a stent put into my aorta to repair an aneurysm, and each year I am given an appointment to trek into Ottawa an have an ultrasound to check the state of the repair. (Just in passing, I do wonder what would be done if the repair was deteriorating. No, not thinking about that.) The Civic campus. With the parking garage where the Handicapped spaces are always full. Yesterday there was a lineup to get into the garage and so JG dropped me at the front door and drove off to park elsewhere. There was no elsewhere. He got into the line, finally made it into the garage, went right to the top to park (and found there a group of wheelchairs covered in snow) and was just leaving the car when I called him to say that I was all finished and could leave. And it cost him money to get out of the garage. Unfortunately, the ultrasound check is a very specific one and cannot be done locally. I hope the new Civic site will be easier to use.

It is the full moon, either last night or tonight. The Beaver moon, I think. It sets on an acute angle to the right of the front of the house and throws fascinating shadows. At 4:00 am. Sigh.

If I don’t quit babbling and post this, it will be Thursday. Besides, I have to go and bake a pan of brownies to take to a Hall supper tonight.

Mary, get OFF the computer, for goodness sake.

Bye.