Jeez Louise

This summer has been long and beautiful and idyllic but I go back to work tomorrow and I don’t wanna!

I am a big baby about this, in case you are wondering. I’ve been whining all morning.

Earlier today, someone spoke at me (you know the type?) for about 25 minutes. About something (Forex trading software) I know absolutely nothing about. And what do I do? Do I say “oh hey, yeah… I don’t really know what you’re talking about and I can’t say I’m particularly interested”? No. Do I find a way to change the subject? No. Do I stand there and just listen, smile, and nod as he goes on and on about how I should maximize my (non-existent) investments, expand my (non-existent) portfolio, etc etc etc? Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I do.

Goal: To become more assertive. And to never feel the need to be so polite that I lose a half hour of my life to something that will probably never be that useful to me, just because I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

…how beautiful it is outside. I’m going to miss being able to just go lay in the grass, once I start back to work.

So beautiful.

In the ongoing renovations to their side of their house, my parents are replacing the ceiling lights. My brother and his wife are getting new windows. Anyway, when I was over there yesterday, I noticed a big box in my parents’ livingroom (it was hard not to notice) that said “Maxim lighting” on it.

Yes, yes, I know that’s just the company’s name, but I started half-giggling. “Are you doing a photoshoot? Mom? What are you going to wear?” It did not Bring the Laughs. Basically, it Brought The Confused Looks From Sixty-Three Year Olds. It also Brought The Awkward No One Got My Joke Feeling. Not that I’m not used to that.

7 am: Wake up and walk the dogs. For an hour. And they refuse to poop. Dogs! Your pooping is on a schedule! Twice a day, no more no less! When you disrupt the routine it vexes me.

8 am: Head to the groomer. Stand talking to her about her recent trip to the States (she and her husband are seriously looking at Outer Banks foreclosures in the hopes of snatching one up as a summer home), her new coffee maker (she had had five coffees already that morning!) and how good-natured Mr. Sprock and the Dooz are. That took like, an hour. Then the half-hour drive back into town, where

10 am: Stop at Shopper’s Drug Mart looking for a certain type of razor which they had there just last week. Nope, none left. So instead I looked at the magazines and

10:30 Came home. Watched the beginning of that Robin Williams movie where he played a priest. License to Wed? Anyway. Went on eBay. Found the razors I wanted (new, of course). Bought those. For cheaper, with shipping, than they would have been to buy at the store.

11:00 Still watching that movie.

11:30 The groomer called for me to pick up the boys. Drove to her place.

12:00 Found out that they hadn’t pooped for her either and that Sprockito had been a terrorist in the tub but otherwise was great. Decided to walk them for a bit to get some of their energy out because they were wound up. Three seconds after getting outside they both pooped. I had to beg some bags from her to clean that up. Headed home.

12:40 Stopped by my parents’ where my dogs played with her dog and with my brother’s dogs. My nephew D. gave them the biggest hug.

2:30 Nephew D comes back for more hugs (SO many hugs from this little boy!). Says to me “Tante, Doozer has happy eyes. Sparocket has gentle eyes. I love them so much!”.

4:00 Head home.

4:15 Shower.

4:30 Collapse on sofa. Because have you ever heard of such an exhausting day? You have? Hah you must be nuts.

My Dad, as you know, has been having some health problems over the past few years. It started with his aortic aneurysm 5 or 6 years ago, and it has gone downhill from there. This past couple of years it’s been his lungs. They’ve collapsed, he’s had trouble breathing, he’s been diagnosed with COPD and his lung function has gone down. This past Spring he had some surgery to have a stent put in to repair his aorta. The surgery went perfectly well – but his lungs collapsed, which started a chain reaction that ended with him dead on the table and then, after hours of the surgeons working on him, in the ICU for nearly 3 weeks. Kidneys failing. Fluid through his body. We were terrified (he says “I was in a coma so I had no idea what was going on — I wasn’t worried at all. I think I had the best deal in this whole situation”).

Now. My grandpa, Dad’s father, had similar problems. Mainly with his lungs though – he was a coal miner. Years of Export A’s and coal dust left him with solid tissue where sponginess should be. He lived the last 10 years of his life with just 28% of one lung – his left one and most of the right had to be removed. To go from a guy who once knocked out the Cape Breton Boxing Champion to being stuck in a chair and unable to walk up stairs was devastating to him.

My Dad was thinking that this was going to be his fate. After his stent surgery, he had scans which showed masses on his lungs. He’s been back and forth to Halifax for scans and biopsies, because the surgeons weren’t sure what was going on there. Dad’s been terrified. He’s been discussing with us for the past couple of months whether or not he would have the surgery done if it was recommended. “Sure, it might make me live longer, but what kind of life will I live?”, he’d say. I would say “It’s your choice”. In my heart I would scream “You’re my daddy! Please, please, please stay”. The prospect of this surgery was constantly hanging over his head, and you could see in his eyes, even when he was playing with my nephews or joking with my brother, that it was always on his mind.

This morning I was at my parents’ house. They wanted me to come over because Dad had decided to sell his car and buy a truck, and they wanted me to check it out (not that I would know whether or not it was a good truck, I guess they just wanted me to look at it). We were in the livingroom talking about the roadside assistance plan that my parents have when the phone rang. Mom answered, then handed the phone to Dad. She came and sat next to me on the couch and held my hand. I looked at her. “C’est le docteur,” she whispered. Then I knew – the results of his latest scan were in.

“Okay,” he said. “Thank you.” He hung up, and turned to us and you could see his shoulders rise with relief.

Benign. No surgery for that. Continued scans and checks on his stent. Continued medication for his COPD. But. He gets to keep his lungs.

He will still have health problems. He will still need medication. But the spectre of yet another traumatic surgery has gone. And we can breathe just a little easier.

Recipe #1:

Take a zucchini from your garden if you have one. If you don’t have a garden find a zucchini somewhere. Don’t steal it from your neighbour’s garden because neighbours can be annoying when you steal things from them. Slice it thickly (about 1-inch slices). Either lengthwise or in little circles (I prefer lengthwise).
Brush both sides with olive oil. Put on some salt and some pepper. Put it on your grill (if you have a grill – we have this one). Cook for six minutes. Eat it up.

If you don’t have a grill put it in the oven on broil.

Recipe #2:

Take two slices of bread. Put them in the toaster. Toast them the way that you like to toast them. As soon as they’re out of the toaster, put some butter (not margarine. Butter) on one slice. On the other slice put some mayonnaise (not Miracle Whip). Then take a tomato from your garden (see previous recipe) and slice it thinly. Put it on the bread. Make a sandwich. Eat that sandwich.

Hah. Are you impressed now with my culinary skillzzzzz? Pretty much the only things that have flourished in my vegetable garden this year are tomatoes and zucchinis. Which is fine by me because I love them. A lot.

I have a bad fashion sense to begin with. I don’t know what goes with what, what fits flatter me, what colours look good on me… I’m basically a trainwreck when it comes to clothing. Sometimes I think I would have been better off, fashion-wise, living in the 1500s. You have one or two dresses (unless you’re rich) and basically everyone dresses kind of the same. Sure I’d have to deal with corsets and with, you know, the plague and everything, but at least I’d know what to wear!

When Summer gets here, and I don’t have to get dressed up for anything, whatever tenuous hold I had on fashion goes straight out the window. It’s sad, really. Sweatpants. Cut-off sweatpants. T-shirts. I did buy a couple of sun-dresses which are cute, and I’ve been wearing the heck out of them, but not because of their cuteness; because of the comfort factor. Plus not having to try to find a top that matches bottoms.

But now the Summer’s almost over. I’ve been looking at the clothes I have. They are causing me to panic. “What did I used to wear this with? What is this? Should I wear this with that?”…

I wonder if they’d mind me showing up on the first day in my bathrobe.

The “aaaaaaa!” is both good and bad, in this case.

1) I am having really bad stomach cramps tonight. It started earlier today when I was at the grocery store and felt like I was going to faint. But then I didn’t. I thought “hmm maybe because I haven’t eaten yet today”. So when I got home I had a piece of cheese. Now my stomach hurts really badly (not because of the cheese I am sure) and I’m hoping to throw up. I know, weird. Just I feel that if I throw up, my tummy will stop hurting.

2) I was just chatting with another teacher at my school. Remember my last post where I was all “We have to go back on Monday”? Well it turns out we only have to go back on WEDNESDAY. It’s like a little bonus of vacation for me! Yay! Of course I might go in anyway but I don’t HAVE to be there and that’s what counts.

3) I made zucchini bread tonight. But I can’t eat any. Damnit.

Okay that’s all.

I just realized (well, I knew, but I guess it really hit home) that this is my last week of summer vacation.

It has been a lovely vacation… but not long enough. Hah! Yes I know, 2 months, who am I to complain? But I guess I’m spoiled. At the beginning of summer, those eight weeks seem to stretch out so far ahead it’s like looking through the wrong end of a pair of binoculars, the end seems so far off. Then you hit August and time seems to speed up unbelievably.

Next week is mainly going to be meetings and things. The kids don’t come back til the 7th, after Labour Day.
I have a feeling (and a determination) that it’s going to be an excellent year.