March is a mad month. College students party like crazy on a week-long break, usually on a beach, where they drink too much and indulge in general debauchery. The weather can’t decide if it’s winter or spring (at least this far north of the equator) and Mother Nature teases us with a few days of mild pseudo-spring temperatures, followed by bone-chilling Arctic winter air. On St. Patrick’s Day people of Irish descent (and everybody else) enjoy green beer in pubs decorated with shamrocks.
The Ides of March have become a metaphor for impending doom. What is an ‘ide’, anyway? Apparently it represents the middle of a month with 31 days on the Roman calendar– in other words, March 15th: the date Julius Cesar was back-stabbed 23 times on the street by people whom he trusted. Understandably, a very bad omen.
For this grumpy blogger, March also means that time of year where I escape this dreadful Canadian winter for a while and head south to Florida, along with thousands of other Snowbirds.
Wishing you all a crazy, mad March, in whichever way you choose to spend it.
I like dogs more than most people. They have their priorities in order, live in the moment and teach us what it means to be human.
In my former life I took care of people with heart disease. My job was important, all-consuming and never dull. Despite the incredible workload and stress, I knew I was giving back in a unique way and making a difference to the world around me, patients and co-workers alike.
Now I write novels, which has given me a chance to explore my creative side, a part of me I ignored for too long. But it’s a solitary activity, sitting on your ass in front of a monitor all day. You live inside your head with your characters, a self-absorbed practice that can make you anti-social. Add to that cold winter weather, and many days go by where I haven’t stepped outside in several days, except to have my evening cocktail and smoke the odd cigarette — gasp, yes, I even do that occasionally — and to throw some food at the birds and squirrels in my backyard.
But I’m aware something is missing in this empty nest of mine, so I’ve decided to become a volunteer foster parent to dogs from my local animal shelter. It’s a charity close to my heart. I have time on my hands, own a big house and fenced yard and I miss walking dogs.
Chewbacca will be with us for a few weeks. He is scary skinny, and needs some meat on his bones. Whereas, I’m on a perpetual diet. If only I could give him some of my fat. But alas, the universe doesn’t work that way.
There are lots of reasons to hate Valentine’s Day, especially if you’re single. Amidst all the hype of promised romance, heart-shaped chocolate boxes, flashy diamond rings, flowers and lingerie, this ‘holiday’ can make you feel lonelier than ever and excluded from The Love Club.
My daughter hated Valentine’s Day for years, because her rocky personal life always seemed to leave her without a boyfriend around the middle of February. Now that she’s happily involved with someone, she’s making up for lost time. God help her significant other if he doesn’t do The Valentine Thing up to expected standards.
Therein lies my problem with this holiday. Not only can it leave you gagging on all the contrived sentiment, but your partner’s best intentions could leave you feeling disappointed. I saw a commercial the other day that made me smile. A local pizzeria, in honor of Valentine’s Day, is offering heart-shaped pizza. I can’t figure out how I feel about this. Heart-shaped pizza? What does that say about a relationship? So your guy can pick up the phone and order out. Big deal. At least flowers are associated with love. Intrinsically speaking, there’s nothing about pizza that makes me think of love. Heartburn, maybe.
Usually my husband buys me a nice card plus flowers or chocolates (unless I’m on a diet, then he’s limited to flowers). I don’t think I’ve ever received jewellry for Valentine’s Day, simply because it seems a bit over the top, and if I’m going to get jewellry I get it at Christmas or on my birthday, which is at the end of February and therefore overshadows Valentine’s Day. I reciprocate by buying him a nice card and chocolates or maybe a single red rose. And we might go our for dinner.
So on the plus side, Valentine’s Day is a way for us to make a date to spend time together, and give each other reminders of how we feel. But that can happen any time of the year, not exclusively on one day in the middle of the winter.
In her article in The Huffington Post, Susan Kraus, a therapist and mediator, says, “Use Valentine’s Day to make your relationship stronger.” She suggests that Valentine’s Day can be a way to celebrate and acknowledge our commitment to our partners in life by taking time to ask some seldom asked questions (from a list of 10) instead of the usual, once-a-year flamboyant gestures or gifts. For example, “Tell me something that I did for you or with you this past year that made you really happy.”
I think it’s a good idea. And much more meaningful than heart-shaped pizza.
On this New Year’s Eve, I wish you these few small blessings:
Pens that work.
Photographers that understand the basket of toys next to their camera are there to try to elicit smiles from small children. Let’s face it, even a monkey can press a button on a camera.
Plum sauce for your take out egg rolls.
Glass that doesn’t break in the frame you are trying to put your favorite poster into.
And last but not least, don’t mistake an iphone for an ipad when trying to sync a song from iTunes.
May all your resolutions be successful!
Yours in Grumpiness,
Happy New Year xo
On this date 171 years ago Charles Dickens published his novella, A Christmas Carol, and introduced us to one of the most miserable, miserly grumps who ever lived–the infamous Ebenezer Scrooge. Hundreds of adaptations of this Christmas ghost story have been created since that time in every form imaginable, including film, television, opera, stage and animation. The book itself has never been out of print and remains popular almost two centuries later.
Last night on Turner’s Classic Movie channel (one of my favorites!) two Scrooge films were featured: 1935’s Scrooge starring Seymour Hicks and 1970’s Scrooge starring Albert Finney. I enjoyed Seymour Hicks performance as Scrooge, but the film itself lacked the emotional impact I was hoping for. Albert Finney is one of my favorite actors but his 1970 Scrooge film is actually a musical, which struck me as an odd way to interpret the story. I have to wonder if the success of Oliver!, the 1968 musical that garnered 14 Academy Awards the year before (including Best Picture) was the main reason the producers chose to jump on the musical bandwagon for this adaptation of Scrooge. Except I kept comparing it to Oliver! which I vividly remember seeing at the movie theatre when I was 12, and Finney’s film couldn’t compete.
Everyone has a ‘must see’ movie at Christmas; for Christmas isn’t Christmas without it. For my husband (and his three brothers and three sisters) it was The Sound of Music. For me, the movie is 1951’s A Christmas Carol starring Alastair Sim. My father and I would watch this movie every Christmas, and the first time I saw it I shivered in my slippers. Everything from Sim’s portrayal of Scrooge to the three ghosts to the soundtrack to the plot is absolutely mesmerizing. Ebenezer’s transformation on Christmas morning still brings me to tears.
Yes, the film is old, black and white and the special effects are dated … but if you are in the mood for Dickens at Christmas, dig up this old classic featuring the world’s most famous Grump. You won’t be disappointed.
I ordered greek souvlaki take out the other day for a family occasion and was very pleased when they told me the salad dressing was in a separate container, since I’d actually forgotten to ask them to do that. So many times when I ask for the dressing in a separate container, restaurants neglect to do it. It’s a no brainer, not to put dressing on a take out salad, isn’t it? Who likes limp lettuce?
I drive 30 minutes to my daughter’s new home and after guzzling a few glasses of wine, it’s time to eat. We unwrap our dinner and everything looks amazing, except there’s no tzatziki, which is my favorite part of souvlaki. I was very bummed, especially since I gave them a generous tip, which I know people don’t usually do with take out orders, and I’m sure my husband would be pissed if he knew that, LOL. The dinner was delicious, and I tried not to obsess about the missing tzatziki, and everyone said not to worry about it — HA — but it seems everytime I order take out, something is missing or messed up.
At my local fast food outlets (not mentioning any names) I’m now in the habit of checking everything in the bag down to the last straw and napkin. I’ve received missing items or other people’s meals so often it’s just a necessary evil.
Now the same thing is happening with higher end restaurants.
I called them the next day and very nicely asked if the tzatziki was included with souvlaki, and they of course said ‘yes’. They were naturally appalled that the tzatziki was missing, said it wasn’t possible because they remember distinctly putting it in the bag and it wasn’t in the back fridge, so they couldn’t understand what happened.
Which is another way of saying it must be my fault. That I’m delusional, that somebody in my family decided to play a prank and throw it in the garbage before dinner, that I have nothing better to do than call up restaurants to complain the next day.
“Why didn’t you call us right away? We would have delivered you another one.”
I don’t believe that for a minute, but it’s nice of them to offer. They also offered to reimburse me for the cost of the tzatziki, but I declined. I hung up feeling it was somehow my fault. Maybe I am crazy. Maybe I dropped it on the way out of the restaurant — SPLAT — and didn’t notice. <Sigh>
As American Thanksgiving approaches it’s the perfect time to be grateful for our blessings. Here’s a list of what I’m grateful for:
My wonderful family and friends, and all the dogs I’ve had the priviledge of loving.
My physical health. As each year passes my body gently reminds me that I’m not as young as I used to be, so I also appreciate my aquafit bootcamp teacher at the local public pool. She’s a dragon but I know that investing in exercise now will prevent my joints seizing up later.
My mental health. I was fortunate to find an excellent psychiatrist who literally saved my sanity eleven years ago. Thanks to new awareness of the debiliating effects of depression and anxiety, I can actually say that out loud.
My new kitchen. After almost 20 years we finally invested in a new kitchen pantry and L-shaped island counter and I love it!
And finally, on the lighter side, I’m thankful for Judge Judy. She metes out justice and says things most of us only think about and wish we could say!
Wishing my American friends a blessing-filled Thanksgiving :)
Took a break from our keyboards and drove to St. Sauveur, Quebec for lunch and some shopping. I took pictures with my iPhone but they didn’t turn out that great, so please enjoy this beautiful picture by Quebec pastelist Horace Champagne of St. Sauveur after a winter storm.
I enjoyed hearing French being spoken — although I was born and raised in Montreal, I’m an anglophone — and I practiced my French with the sales people in the stores, but as soon as they heard my horrible accent they switched to English. Not sure whether to be grateful or insulted, LOL.