So no one died or was dismembered from the swim lessons yesterday, happily enough. They froze, because our lovely city seems to be practicing the utmost frugality when it comes to heating municipal swimming pools, and also it is December, but they are still in one piece. So that’s a win.
To warm ourselves up, apparently, we have been watching the holiday fireplace channel. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not the channel that plays festive music; it is JUST a fireplace, making crackling fire noises. It’s actually quite relaxing, or would be if the boys didn’t go insane whenever the guy’s arm appears to poke the fire or add another log. “HE’S POKING THE FIRE! THERE’S THE NEW LOG! AAAAHHHHHHH!” They also like to wonder aloud what would happen if he poked the fire with his bare hands? Or wouldn’t it be neat if his sleeve caught on fire? Ah, the warmth and love of the holidays.
Speaking of festive music, I cannot help myself – I always sing along. Even, evidently, while shopping at Superstore, like I did today, realizing only when a woman smiled at me that I was singing audibly. The question arises: what am I going to be like when I am old and crazy? I read an article in this month’s O magazine that was truly disturbing. I always thought of my eventual foray into the home for the elderly with fondness: I would be surrounded by other women wearing support hose and feathery lipstick, I would eat lots of soft foods, I would sexually harass the male orderlies. Maybe I would even learn how to knit or play shuffleboard. Who knows? The world will be my aged oyster. However, according to this article, the foray into the home is riddled with high-school-like hierarchies, depending on one’s level of mobility and ability to match one’s socks with one’s cardigan. I read that article and felt strangely out of sorts. Could it be that senior’s residences are not all they are cracked up to be? Will I really be unable to choose what table to eat my 4:30 dinner at if I have a walker? Disturbing on many levels.
And what, you may ask, was I doing at Superstore on this fine day? Shopping for the holiday necessities, of course: booze and cheese. So I’m all ready for the holidays; if only I hadn’t mentioned to some girlfriends yesterday that we hadn’t been sick for a while…because today it seems I have a sore throat and the tendency to snap at minor issues like my children saying “Mom! Mom! Mom! Mom!” followed with “Um, I forget”. But I’m sure it’s nothing a little booze and cheese can’t solve! And maybe an early bedtime. Good night!
nice new look!! Is it awkword if I say “LOVe the log!”
That Oprah article was so frightening! The worst part was how the “walkers” have more social power and prestige than those women who use walkers or wheelchairs. OHMIGOD! It sounds like the Mean Girl dynamics of high school combined with the cut throat competitiveness of the PTA moms. ARGH. We use to have the satellite receiver tuned to the station that played both the music AND had the crackling fire. I found it soothing, but it was disappointing that the Bell channel doesn’t ever have anyone tending to the fire. That’s why I liked the Access channel.
I like your new look!
It is required to sing along with holiday music! As loudly as possible!
First, love what you did with the place 😉
Second, I worked in a nursing home and old people are fracken awesome. They can betch and moan about anything and no one says anything to them out of respect. Plus at the home they have happy hour everyday. And. AND it only takes a whiff and a sip to get them plastered. Cheap drunks are my heroes 😉
Nan: I KNOW. That article totally freaked me out. How the “new girl” (kind of inappropriate way to talk about an octogenerian) wasn’t allowed to sit at the table if Grandma said no. How the people in wheelchairs were the uncool kids.
Kimberly: I had no idea they had happy hours. Now I’m feeling a bit better about the whole thing!
Kimberly’s comment has made me feel so much better. It also makes me want some vodka.
My dad bought my mom the fireplace channel video one year for Christmas. She was strangely unappreciative.
That O magazine article WAS disturbing, wasn’t it? There is just no escape from high school, ever.
First I was disturbed that you read O magazine. Then I realized you clearly have to read it in order to subversively deride it. Right? I’m scared of being old. There goddamned well BETTER be booze.
I also sing in the Superstore. At least I finally managed to stop tap dancing while waiting in line (the self-checkout is great for my self control there).
My son’s teacher saw Carrie Underwood in the soup aisle at the Superstore (Kanata) two weeks ago. Maybe if we sing really loud – we’ll be discovered!