Sunday, 23 October 2016

snoRing in the distance

It's an early Sunday morning.  I'm up, having a coffee and reading the online papers, after feeding the dogs and researching my homemade soup of the weekend:  I think I'm going with this one.

I like making soups - it's relaxing.  Something about taking a recipe and having it come to life - making one's own variations on themes.  As an example, I may not use roma tomatoes this morning, and I may not use the heavy cream and asiago when serving.  I may, instead, use regular tomatoes and cream cheese.  We'll see where things take me today.

It's been a difficult week here at Casa Smith.  My husband is frustrated with his disability.   He feels things are progressing and he's angry that he can't do things that he could do a year ago.  I'm not sure, specifically, what he is referring to.  He can't cook, he says, or chop vegetables.  He can't clean.  (Dude has a wife, y'all.. why's he worried about this?)  He is concerned a nursing home is not far off in his future.

Ugh.  I reminded him that he showers by himself.  He mostly dresses by himself with minimal assistance (I do buttons, etc.). He works full time in a high stress job.  He volunteers with 3 different agencies.  We travel and do cool stuff.  It's not even time to have the conversation, yet alone start seriously considering it.

He counters with the fact that I am "stuck" here.  That I make all his meals, do all the cleaning, have all the responsibility.  And?  How is this different than any other marriage, really?  He feels guilty that I "have" to.  And yet, the only time I complain is on weeks like this where he's down, and frustrated, and yelling at me and saying mean things because he can't handle the changes.

So I'm up at 7, not able to sleep after an argument last night.  I'm going to make soup, get ready for church, wake up Bob, get his coffee and breakfast going, and continue on.  I'm scared, too.  I'm only 45 - what if something happens to me? what if he's going to be angry the rest of our days?  what if I have to put him in a home?  what if i can't live with the decisions i'm going to be forced to make?

Make soup.  Drink coffee.  Go to work.  Laugh.  Live.  Fake it until you make it.    I'm so good at this, I should write a book. ;)

Sunday, 16 October 2016

and the winneR is..


I've joined up for novice curling with Miss Jessica and feel pretty good about that.  It's hilarious in this house that I've finally joined a team sport and that the first email I get about said sport is all about drinking.

Starting tomorrow, I'm giving up white food.  Sugar, white bread, potatoes.. that sort of nonsense.  For 30 days.  I've slowly allowed myself to eat snacks and such again - enjoying the bounty of tortilla chips and potatoes.  This has me back behaving again - which isn't huge for me as I love veggies and meat, but still.  Poor Bob has agreed to also give up this stuff.

It's nearly 9 a.m. on Sunday and I'm waiting for Bob to be done his shower and join me for a coffee before we head to the 11 a.m. service at church.  He's a bit of a slow-go today.  Yesterday he had a very active day - we went out for breakfast, attended Applefest, he worked for four hours, we had dinner together, went to a movie and then out for a coffee.  I suspect today will be a slightly slower pace for him.

Sarah is here, from Halifax, but not sure we'll get to connect.  She's at a family wedding an hour north of me, and driving through to her mum's this afternoon.  It's strange knowing she's in the province, so close, but that our plans may not allow for a hug, tea, or drink.  As I wrote that I got a message that she may pop by around 2.  We shall see.

I hate mice.  I think we have a mouse.  I hope it's a mouse, and not like a rat or something scary like that.  What's the freaking point in having 3 dogs and 2 cats if you have some sort of rodent in your house chewing through pasta bags?  Thankfully, I just see evidence of one and not any real proof.  No poop, no scurrying, just... a chewed pasta bag or two.  Jesse thinks he plugged up the hole but I am not sure.  Argh, I hate the country.

Sunday, 9 October 2016


The Saturday of a long weekend is not the most ideal time to shop.  Mostly because everyone else is doing the same, on a day that's partly cloudy and threatening rain.  I tried to get Bob some shoes and to pick up some black IPA, but the strip mall housing the stores was ridiculously busy and I gave up.  What I did manage to buy, however, is a new bamboo cutting  board and new silicone oven mitts.  This is what 45 is like, people.  Giving up on black IPA and buying yourself kitchen stuff.

Thanksgiving used to be my favourite holiday.  I like hosting and cooking and having everyone over.  I like the colours and the authenticity of it, and really - no presents.  It feels genuine.  But last Christmas my mother called me a bitch and said I should never host another family gathering.  This, after arguing with her about washing dishes in my house.

As a refresher, my mother-in-law was also visiting and I found it incredibly stressful that these two ladies wouldn't let me make one freaking decision in my own freaking house and when I finally put my foot down about the dishes, for pete's sake, I was called a bitch and told that no one ever wanted me to host again.  Bob agreed, but for different reasons.  He's sick of all the work and effort going to poop and me being sad about it.

Anyway, so my mother is hosting this family dinner.   Which means my son, who works until 4:30 today cannot join us.  Which means my sister-in-law, estranged from my brother, won't be there.  Which means that my niece, having a snit the other day, is no longer invited.  I have issues with all of this, but also realize that a)  I am apparently a gigantic bitch who shouldn't host and b) I have to take turns with others.  I just feel bad with my son here alone on Thanksgiving.  And Tammy not invited.  And Emily god knows where.

But I've made pies and cranberries and packed some games.  I cannot even choose what kind of pies to make - well, I chose, but had to run those choices through my mother who is not eating them and then answer if I remembered whip cream when I said "pumpkin".  Do I really come across as that stupid?    I feel like if I am smart enough to make pumpkin pie from scratch then I could for sure remember the whipping cream, but I don't know.  I'm mildly concerned that people see me as that much of a stupid bitch.

And I made pumpkin pie.  My brother likes it.  However, the last time I made pumpkin pie, no one ate it.  Because there was also apple and pecan, which will be true of today.  Although the pecan is gluten free for my parents.  What I'm expecting is that my mother will offer people the pie, and then complain later if they had some "it's expensive and it's for your father and I who can't have anything else" or complain that no one wants to try gluten free.  These are the things I worry over.

Hopefully, this helps me get over my worries and focus on being thankful today.  I am thankful for what I have, where I've come from, and who I am today.  Even if I'm a bitch! :)

Saturday, 8 October 2016

the gLamouRous Life

Today is Saturday.  I first heard the dogs at 6:41 a.m. and let them out.  It was cool, a bit rainy, and dark.  I went back to bed and asked if Bob was awake and wanted to go in the hot tub with me for a while.

By 8 a.m. I was having a coffee and planning out our day.  By 9, breakfast was cooking; by 10, pies were being made; 11, I was showering with the second pie in the oven.  At noon, the kitchen is clean and the last pie is almost done.  I'm waiting for Bob to return from the dump.

I have already been up nearly 6 hours.

Today I'd like to get a beer, listen to some music, and chill out.  I have to buy a new cutting board.  Maybe buy Bob a pair of dress shoes.  Dry my hair.

This is what happens when there's nothing to blog about.

Sunday, 2 October 2016

back to woRk

So the week is over.  I'm back to work tomorrow.  New shoes.  Two new dresses.  New pants.  A nice new shirt.  I'm theoretically ready.  I haven't checked my email yet; I can't decide if I should or should not.  I usually check it the evening before I return but part of me feels unready to do so.  It's like admitting it is for real.  Tomorrow, tomorrow...

Funny how now that I'm feeling better mentally and spiritually and am rested and less stressed I have nothing to write about.

Saturday, 1 October 2016

saying goodbye

18 years after my husband left and we had each moved on, we spent the day together.  That's probably over stating it.  We attended the funeral for his grandmother, with our new(ish) spouses, and our children and his family.  It was a good day of seeing people that I hadn't seen in a while, and sad to see such a lovely woman come to the end of the road. But I guess it is a nice commentary on one's life when such a void is left by their passing.

And is it wrong to have a paragraph about how much I liked my outfit yesterday?  Well, I liked the dress.  My outfit was a little "meh" - I didn't have sheer enough stockings for the right look between shoe and dress, but that's fine.  But the dress is a sweater dress by Nine West that is totally awesome and different.  I bought it at Winners a few weeks ago, surprised that it fit and that it looked good.   Jordie told me that I was dressed "exactly like Heather" (my ex's wife), which she and I laughed at later.  Women of a certain age go for a certain look at a grandmother's funeral.  Be it their grandmother or someone else's.

Anyway.  A sad end to a lovely week away.

Thursday, 29 September 2016

kayaking and sunshine

The last full day at the cottage was full of sunshine and kayaking, mixed with small storms of tantrums - mostly mine.  I'm a hothead and don't like feeling taken advantage of.

Anyway.  I kayaked around our little lake in the warm sunshine while Bob waited at the sheltered, shady beach with a fire.  When I was done, arms sore and face warm, I hopped out into the water and moved to the cool sand.  It was therapeutic and wonderful.  A nice fire, cold sand, and a long nap followed by wine and an old movie rounded out the last full day here.

I'm sad to be leaving.  Sad to be going back to the chaos of work and home.  Sad to be leaving somewhere relaxing to attend a funeral that may be quite dramatic.  Sad to watch my 20-something children say goodbye to a woman that babysat them as toddlers and always was there to love.