Today was the school’s annual Stampede Breakfast; it’s a proud tradition, this end-of-school wrap-up, although technically there are two more weeks left of school and three weeks until the actual Stampede hits the city, when we can all feel free to embrace our inner cowboy spirit and don shirts emblazoned with wolves and sunsets. Nonetheless, the boys were insane with excitement about this very fun event, which was cancelled last year due to the flood. I was committed to help with the set up, so early this morning I went to say goodbye to my husband, who was working out downstairs. He took one look at me and burst into hysterical laughter.
Despite living in Calgary for 37 years, this is the first “western” shirt I have ever purchased, complete with sparkly detailing on the back. Something about the shirt paired with the denim skirt, accessorized by my regular boots, set my husband into a gale of mirth. “You just don’t look very authentic,” he finally said. No shit, Sherlock. I’m not an actual cowgirl.
The past few weeks have been divine, weather-wise, lots of sunshine and warmth, with the exception of today, day of the Stampede Breakfast AND Sports Day, which was cold and raining. Maybe it’s a combination of Friday the 13th and a full moon? I don’t know. All I know is when I got home from the breakfast it was 9:45 and I kind of felt like just giving up and calling it a day. I managed to rally by eating tortilla chips and salsa for lunch and that influx of sodium was enough to power me through a couple of hours of work.
Earlier in the week I realized with a start that I STILL hadn’t bought any cards for Father’s Day, and that no matter what I did, my father-in-law’s card would be late. I went card shopping and was reminded of this post by Lynn. I would like to add to it, though. There is a serious need for “Happy Father’s Day Grandpa” cards from people who are not preschoolers or thoughtful, sensitive adults. There was no middle ground between “Happy Father’s Day To My Beloved Grandfather, Sending Love and Memories Across The Miles” and cards with cartoon animals and cheerful, faux-crayoned words. There were also a number of cards for “Pop”, “Pop-Pop” and even “Paw-Paw”. Yet, nothing that was appropriate for tween-aged children to send to their grandpa. There is a market here, people.
Speaking of markets for mailing things, today in the mail I had a letter addressed specifically to me from Canada Post. Important information inside! it proclaimed. Now, I had some issues with Canada Post this last winter, so it was with some nervous trepidation that I ripped open the letter. Were they going to tell me that my Mayday tree was too droopy when it rained and the mail carrier got hit in the face and I was no longer going to receive mail? Was I in some kind of trouble? Was my wet walk too slippery, with too many faded Mayday blossoms? No. It was simply an advertisement for Hold Mail Services in case I went on vacation. How much money went into this advertising campaign? It seems a bit like a make-work project to me, but on the other hand, I have used the Hold Mail Service in the past and it is pretty awesome. I’m torn.
I’m also torn between doing a nice, light yoga practice this afternoon and taking a nap, since I seem to be exhausted by the festivities. Maybe I can do both? And add a glass of wine onto that? It’s Friday and the sun is over the yardarm somewhere, right, Hannah?
Happy Friday everyone, and Happy Father’s Day to all you daddy-o’s out there. Don’t be a square!