I'm Nesting ...
No, really. I am.
Well, more metaphorically speaking than literally but it really isn't quite that different. I'm sitting here in the middle of the couch, my butt placed more or less comfortably so between two of the cushions and I have veritable towers of laundry on either side, each in varying degree's of neatness. Oh, make that three. I have all the Big Things (ie. blankets, bed sheets) tossed in their own separate pile at the foot of the chaise.
God, it's September already. And it's bloody freezing here!! I am so not ready for summer to be over - not that we had much of one here. There was a lot of rain this year, and the heavy flooding in the spring (it nearly wiped out two First Nation communities further north from here) that was quickly followed by a massive heat wave meant there were swarms of bugs everywhere.
That bit I'm not exaggerating. Most days, like I might have mentioned before, I can at least tolerate the various insectile abominations - but this year, I waged genocide against ants, mosquitos, moths and millers, and the occasional (and thankfully not too scary) spider.
This summer also saw much needed renovations to our bathroom. Finally. For the first time since we moved in to this place, I'm taking baths again. I went 2 years without taking a proper bath. I showered, obviously. But, and maybe this is just a girl thing, there is something soul-cleansing about a bath. The best baths are steaming - sometimes scalding - hot, with lots of bubbles and something to drink, usually a favorite beverage. For me, it's either red wine or a vodka cooler. Since our bathtub isn't really big enough for me (it only measure 52" in length ... most tubs are about 53" or 55" I think), for company I take in a book, my phone, pens, and a journal - or whatever scrap of paper I tend to be writing on at the moment whenever inspiration strikes. This will usually occupy me for a couple of hours or so and is generally followed up by a lukewarm shower. You have to shower after a bath - after sitting that long in hot water, flaking off skin cells and taking care of any necessary personal grooming, you have to shower. It's one of the established Rules of Bath Time! Otherwise, you end up dirtier than when you went in to begin with, and it means that you have to start your day earlier than you normally would - unless the next day happens to be the week end, in which case (and by special exemption) you can forgo the after-bath-time-shower. Another one of the established Rules, is taking silly pictures.
If you don't believe me, follow Ricky Gervais' Twitter-feed.
My parents just got back from their vacation this morning. It took a little longer than expected to start, since there was a three or four delay with the ferry while they were trying to get off the Island, but by all accounts they totally enjoyed New York, New Jersey, and Maine. No doubt my mother has taken care of all her (or at the very least, the majority) Christmas shopping. I would have loved to have gone to New York City. I'm in the process of renewing my passport so maybe the next time they go, I'll meet them there. There's so many cool places to go and see. The usual tourist destinations like Times Square, obviously ... maybe The Empire State Building. And of course, there's the 9/11 Memorial, that I would really like to see. Plus, there's countless tours to do. A former colleague of mine said there's a walking food tour you can take! Aside from the walking bit, it sounds awesome! Although, knowing me, I would take every opportunity I possibly could to toss out every famous line ever said in a movie set in New York.
"HEY!!! I'M WALKING HERE!" I would even try to pull off some mafioso strut. I already have a felt fedora (and it's awesome, by the way) and I've watched enough Futurama that I'm pretty sure I could fake a New York accent fairly well. AND, Daddy bought me the iconic I <3 b="" ny="">shirt last year when they were there.
And, my brother and sis-in-law just got back from their trip to Montreal/Niagra Falls, and they're spending Christmas break in Mexico - or perhaps the Dominican. Knowing my sister the Dominican sounds more likely. They've been there a few times before and had a really lovely time. That's also a trip I would love to take. Anywhere where there's an all-inclusive resort package, I'm pretty much game. Give me comfortable lounger, a steady stream of cool drinks, coconut-scented sunscreen, my floppy sunhat, oversized sunglasses, a pool, and a few books ... and you my friend have a vacation!! Nothing to really do all day except sleep, eat and drink - with the occasional tourist day trip and I am all for it, baby!
Soon enough, there will be snow on the ground. Ugh. The dirty s-word. And the cold. Ohhh hell, does it get cold here! I think last year it went down to -35C on a good warm day (yes, I said warm. It got to the point where -20C was just the same as having 35C in the summer!) but I think most days averaged out around -40C or -45C. Now that's fucking cold my friends. Add a little dash of the windchill, and I think we might have even gotten a few days that were -60C! The only redeeming grace of the cold temperatures here, is that it isn't damp and wet like it is at home. Home is cold too, but an entirely different kind of cold. That kind of cold gets in to your bones and stays there. It'll usually arrive around December, and you'll be stuck with it until around June (usually) and just when you've finished thawing yourself out and are finally warm, and maybe even have a tan for the first time in about 8 months, the winter is back. And, so you grumble and curse and bitch and moan about the winter. You trudge over to WalMart, or Walgreens or Canadian Tire to wage war over the last handful of remaining shovels and bags of rock salt. You locate all the heavy blankets, bedding, down coats, winter boots, hats, scarves and mitts in 1.5 seconds flat. Although, to be honest ... these probably haven't even left the closet to begin with since you're more likely to wear a downfilled jacket in the middle of May then you are a string bikini and booty shorts. You double check your jumper cables, make sure there's a spare (and empty) gas can in the trunk in case of an emergency, an extra cable to charge your cell phone, and if your really prepared (which we usually are not, by no means) there might even be a granola bar or a chocolate bar or a bag of chips stashed in the glove compartment from that road trip you took a few months ago and haven't gotten around to cleaning out the car yet.
That last bit, about road trips and not cleaning out the car ... happens to me pretty frequently.
In the spirit of winter preparedness, you stock up on washer fluid, knowing that once the deepest, coldest chill of mid January and early February settle in, this stuff will be more precious than Daryl Fucking Dixon in a zombie apocalypse, bitch! No one wants to get stuck without it, and when you don't have any, the last thing you wanna do is drag your partially frozen ass back outside to look for it. Meanwhile, while you're gone your partner is left home, looking forlornly out the window, perhaps with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders, feet stuffed in to slippers, as you leave, wondering if you'll make it back.
Right. I'm wandering. And this is starting to get a little weird - even for me. Perhaps I should go to bed ...
"WINTER IS COMING!"
Well, more metaphorically speaking than literally but it really isn't quite that different. I'm sitting here in the middle of the couch, my butt placed more or less comfortably so between two of the cushions and I have veritable towers of laundry on either side, each in varying degree's of neatness. Oh, make that three. I have all the Big Things (ie. blankets, bed sheets) tossed in their own separate pile at the foot of the chaise.
God, it's September already. And it's bloody freezing here!! I am so not ready for summer to be over - not that we had much of one here. There was a lot of rain this year, and the heavy flooding in the spring (it nearly wiped out two First Nation communities further north from here) that was quickly followed by a massive heat wave meant there were swarms of bugs everywhere.
That bit I'm not exaggerating. Most days, like I might have mentioned before, I can at least tolerate the various insectile abominations - but this year, I waged genocide against ants, mosquitos, moths and millers, and the occasional (and thankfully not too scary) spider.
This summer also saw much needed renovations to our bathroom. Finally. For the first time since we moved in to this place, I'm taking baths again. I went 2 years without taking a proper bath. I showered, obviously. But, and maybe this is just a girl thing, there is something soul-cleansing about a bath. The best baths are steaming - sometimes scalding - hot, with lots of bubbles and something to drink, usually a favorite beverage. For me, it's either red wine or a vodka cooler. Since our bathtub isn't really big enough for me (it only measure 52" in length ... most tubs are about 53" or 55" I think), for company I take in a book, my phone, pens, and a journal - or whatever scrap of paper I tend to be writing on at the moment whenever inspiration strikes. This will usually occupy me for a couple of hours or so and is generally followed up by a lukewarm shower. You have to shower after a bath - after sitting that long in hot water, flaking off skin cells and taking care of any necessary personal grooming, you have to shower. It's one of the established Rules of Bath Time! Otherwise, you end up dirtier than when you went in to begin with, and it means that you have to start your day earlier than you normally would - unless the next day happens to be the week end, in which case (and by special exemption) you can forgo the after-bath-time-shower. Another one of the established Rules, is taking silly pictures.
If you don't believe me, follow Ricky Gervais' Twitter-feed.
My parents just got back from their vacation this morning. It took a little longer than expected to start, since there was a three or four delay with the ferry while they were trying to get off the Island, but by all accounts they totally enjoyed New York, New Jersey, and Maine. No doubt my mother has taken care of all her (or at the very least, the majority) Christmas shopping. I would have loved to have gone to New York City. I'm in the process of renewing my passport so maybe the next time they go, I'll meet them there. There's so many cool places to go and see. The usual tourist destinations like Times Square, obviously ... maybe The Empire State Building. And of course, there's the 9/11 Memorial, that I would really like to see. Plus, there's countless tours to do. A former colleague of mine said there's a walking food tour you can take! Aside from the walking bit, it sounds awesome! Although, knowing me, I would take every opportunity I possibly could to toss out every famous line ever said in a movie set in New York.
"HEY!!! I'M WALKING HERE!" I would even try to pull off some mafioso strut. I already have a felt fedora (and it's awesome, by the way) and I've watched enough Futurama that I'm pretty sure I could fake a New York accent fairly well. AND, Daddy bought me the iconic I <3 b="" ny="">shirt last year when they were there.
And, my brother and sis-in-law just got back from their trip to Montreal/Niagra Falls, and they're spending Christmas break in Mexico - or perhaps the Dominican. Knowing my sister the Dominican sounds more likely. They've been there a few times before and had a really lovely time. That's also a trip I would love to take. Anywhere where there's an all-inclusive resort package, I'm pretty much game. Give me comfortable lounger, a steady stream of cool drinks, coconut-scented sunscreen, my floppy sunhat, oversized sunglasses, a pool, and a few books ... and you my friend have a vacation!! Nothing to really do all day except sleep, eat and drink - with the occasional tourist day trip and I am all for it, baby!
Soon enough, there will be snow on the ground. Ugh. The dirty s-word. And the cold. Ohhh hell, does it get cold here! I think last year it went down to -35C on a good warm day (yes, I said warm. It got to the point where -20C was just the same as having 35C in the summer!) but I think most days averaged out around -40C or -45C. Now that's fucking cold my friends. Add a little dash of the windchill, and I think we might have even gotten a few days that were -60C! The only redeeming grace of the cold temperatures here, is that it isn't damp and wet like it is at home. Home is cold too, but an entirely different kind of cold. That kind of cold gets in to your bones and stays there. It'll usually arrive around December, and you'll be stuck with it until around June (usually) and just when you've finished thawing yourself out and are finally warm, and maybe even have a tan for the first time in about 8 months, the winter is back. And, so you grumble and curse and bitch and moan about the winter. You trudge over to WalMart, or Walgreens or Canadian Tire to wage war over the last handful of remaining shovels and bags of rock salt. You locate all the heavy blankets, bedding, down coats, winter boots, hats, scarves and mitts in 1.5 seconds flat. Although, to be honest ... these probably haven't even left the closet to begin with since you're more likely to wear a downfilled jacket in the middle of May then you are a string bikini and booty shorts. You double check your jumper cables, make sure there's a spare (and empty) gas can in the trunk in case of an emergency, an extra cable to charge your cell phone, and if your really prepared (which we usually are not, by no means) there might even be a granola bar or a chocolate bar or a bag of chips stashed in the glove compartment from that road trip you took a few months ago and haven't gotten around to cleaning out the car yet.
That last bit, about road trips and not cleaning out the car ... happens to me pretty frequently.
In the spirit of winter preparedness, you stock up on washer fluid, knowing that once the deepest, coldest chill of mid January and early February settle in, this stuff will be more precious than Daryl Fucking Dixon in a zombie apocalypse, bitch! No one wants to get stuck without it, and when you don't have any, the last thing you wanna do is drag your partially frozen ass back outside to look for it. Meanwhile, while you're gone your partner is left home, looking forlornly out the window, perhaps with a blanket wrapped around their shoulders, feet stuffed in to slippers, as you leave, wondering if you'll make it back.
Right. I'm wandering. And this is starting to get a little weird - even for me. Perhaps I should go to bed ...
"WINTER IS COMING!"
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