Thursday, May 30, 2019

Light Bulb Moment

This morning I had the perfect example of a Light Bulb Moment. It started when I left the kitchen to get something from the linen closet.

Then I spent at least two minutes staring at the contents of my linen closet, trying to remember what it was that I was there to get.

That was when I had my Light Bulb Moment -- I was here to get a new light bulb for the kitchen.

Sunday, April 7, 2019

Ask a Stupid Question . . .

Ask a Stupid Question . . . . 

They say there are no stupid questions. I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but I think they are wrong on this one. Here are a few that I have been asked. I am sure that I have asked lot of them myself, but l don’t remember, not that I would want to remember.

At coffee shops, my usual order is a large black coffee. The kid behind the counter will invariably ask:

               “Would you like cream with that?"

When my hubby asks me something,
     and I say, “I think thus and thus...” 

he will almost invariably ask, “Are you sure?”

 "No.  I am not sure!

 That would be why I started my answer with “I think.”

I was once asked,e “Are those your real eyes?
Ummm. Yes?

 I think the question he meant to ask was, 
           "Are you wearing coloured contacts?"
    or: "Is that your real eye colour?" 

       or maybe it was just a really bad pick up line.

Anyway, I think those are stupid questions.

Monday, March 25, 2019

Eating Chicken on a Grave?

No, that's not morbid . . . it was a birthday party!

My husband and his sister had planned to get together 'one of these days', and you know how that goes. They got as far as deciding to go have a chicken dinner at Chicken Chef. But, life was always too busy.

   . . . and then he was gone.

My sister-in-law messaged me last week to tell me that Derek owed her a chicken dinner, and she was planning to collect on that promise , by getting take-out food from Chicken Chef on his birthday, and eating it at his graveside. Did we want to join her?

I thought the idea was a little morbid, but okay, I agreed to join her for a picnic in the cemetery -- I had wanted to go put some flowers on Derek's grave anyway. We invited my kids, and Derek's brother and his wife. We set up chairs around the grave, and ate chicken.

So we celebrated Derek's birthday at the site where his physical body was laid to rest almost three months ago. It was cold!

What kept this graveside picnic from getting morbid or creepy was that Derek isn't there anymore, just the body that contained his spirit for 58 years. We  know where he is, and that he must be looking down at us eating chicken on his grave on the coldest day of March.

Saturday, March 16, 2019

Muddling through the Murky Middles

You know you are middle aged when . . .

     . . . you realize that you have not become your mother after all. Somehow, you skipped right into becoming your grandmother!

     . . . you and your friends have stopped one-upping each other's horror stories from labour pains and the delivery room, and have been  comparing notes on your collection of ailments and  syndromes.

         . . .  you still buy the sexy nightie, but now you wonder how it will look with your incontinence brief underneath.

        . . . . Your back and your knees plead with you to stay home, but your bank account says you have to go to work.  

Here's to all of us muddling  through the murky middles. Soon enough we will be joining the grey hair crowd, but for now, what happens at the hair salon is still magic.

Friday, November 9, 2018


I keep getting reminders from Google that  I am responsible for warning you folks out in Europe about cookies that may be collected by my blog. Well, I have not received any cookies from Europe, though I have heard something about you not knowing what cookies are,because you call them biscuits.

I'm not really fluent in Cyber Speak. I do know how to bake cookies.

These are oatmeal and chocolate chip cookies. I don't know how to get them to you, but if Google says so, the technology must exist, so if you know how to accept cookies through the computer, then go for t.

Saturday, August 25, 2018

More Middled Aged Moments

Again, if you clicked here looking for content about the Middle Ages, you are in the wrong blog. You have to grow up a little before you are ready for this blog. When you start walking into a room  and forget why, and when your back goes out more often than you do, then you might be living in the middle ages.

I had a middle muddled moment while doing physiotherapy stretches just now. I contemplated turning on the TV to keep me company while I work out, and then I thought, no --that might be distracting. I am trying to count to 20 and that requires all of my concentrational skills.

When did I get this old?

These days, I have to change my glasses every time I sit down at the computer. My eye doctor said it was time for trifocals! Am I really that old? I'm still not so keen on bifocals. When I watch TV in bed, I have to get my pillows just right so my head is at the right angle to see the TV through the top part of my glasses. So I asked the doctor if I could get a second pair of glasses instead of trifocals. He said that he has done that for several people and most of them come back to say they are tired of changing glasses all the time.

Oy! This getting old stuff is getting old. Did I already say that? Sorry, I had the wrong glasses on, now I see it.

Sunday, July 29, 2018

People in the Middle Ages

You know that you are hitting the Middle Ages . . .
 . . .when you start laughing at jokes like this, instead of rolling your eyes.

 If you clicked on this post because you thought it would be about  medieval fairs, 
I am sorry, but you are in the wrong blog.
Kindly move along. You don't want to know this stuff yet.
(Your time is coming soon enough.)

Middle age kinda sneaks up on you, doesn't it?
Like when you realize that people your age are becoming grandparents.
Grandparents used to be old;
But now they are middle aged, just like you!

If your middle starts to muddle,
 And you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror when you get out of the shower.
 and what you see frightens you so much
that you run the hot water until the mirror gets fogged up properly.
You may be hitting middle age.

You know that you are hitting middle age
When you do the math and realize that your age times two equals more than 100.
If you had to use a calculator to do that math, you are probably not middle aged.
You are either a millennial, or a 5-year-old prodigy at reading but not math.

If you had to use a calculator to figure out how old you are, 
you might be hitting middle age.

You know you are hitting middle age
When you realize that you went from being:
 a wanna beto a has been,Without ever just

... being....

If you suspect that you might be Middle Aged,

And have not yet been what you wanted to be; 

You might still have time! 

I always wanted a career in a medical field, 

And now I am a full time patient!

(It's not the most lucrative medical field, But hey -- life is about more than money, right?)

(plus that's just a joke. I wanted to be a teacher, and I got to be one, just not for as long as I had planned) 

(And by the way, if you can read this, then maybe you are not middle aged yet after all!)