good times

Slowly but surely

1 Comment

Have you ever experienced moments that fly and drag all at once? The scenario’s quite familiar to me as of late. And as you might imagine with such, the days have not been bereft of oddity.

Take last week, for instance. In an effort to spell narcissism, I had the brilliant idea to type it out on whatever document opened before me.  After all, I’d simply delete the word once typed; no big deal.

Only I failed to recall that last bit . . . until I looked down at the copies I was preparing to distribute in a meeting. There, in black and white, was a stray narcissism.

My eyes grew wide, my heart raced, and they called my name to speak. My tactic: explain that, after thinking things through, the best mode of attack would be to send electronic copies, so they could review at their leisure.

Alas, the project manager had none of it, thus propelling me to open our corporate review with, So, funny story . . .

Thankfully, they did laugh. As a matter of fact, they thanked me afterwards; it seems laughter was just the medicine needed, after months of stress.

With that, I wish you a weekend filled with laughter. Though the days be few, may they be mighty in the moments they hold. And even if things don’t go exactly as planned, may you find it just what you needed.

xo

A note from an ancient hero

4 Comments

Tell me the truth. Do you think of me when you see this?

You may have heard: Canada’s Musée de la civilisation is on the lookout for doppelgängers of sixty or so of their 2,000-year-old sculptures. Submit your photo; face recognition software will scan your features, compare with their database of images, and tell you the sculpture you most resemble.

Such brilliant, nerdly fun!

Naturally, I had to give it a try. My match {drumroll, please} ………………. Hercules.

That’s right, I most resemble the son of Zeus and Alcmene. Years ago, when a friend noted I’m more of a classic beauty, this was not what I had in mind. Sigh. At least he’s an adventurous sort of fellow. Had I been the twin of a tedious man, it may have been more than I could bear.

But I digress . . .

With that, I wish you a good weekend. May your days be full of adventure and your exploits, the stuff of legend.

xo

Dreaming of spring

2 Comments

Well, I’ve slipped and slid my way through the second week of January 2017 . . .

I helped shovel snow from the roof and kept an eye out for ice dams (did you know ice dams are a thing? Decades worth of snowy winters, and this is the first time the fear of ice dams has been drilled into me). I awoke every morning wondering if I’ll make it out of my driveway; each time I did, I prayed no one else was around so I might freely glide past the stop sign on the wee frozen pond that has become the end of my street. I prayed my tires hold up (my car is not meant to traverse the frozen tundra, you know). I waddled my way into buildings. I shoveled snow — both dry and wet — and chiseled ice from my driveway and walkways. . .

With all this work, I better have a perfectly sculpted back come spring. Seriously.

Oh, and let’s not forget the shed roof, which caved Monday night. My dad and I jury-rigged it back together Tuesday afternoon . . . the one day it was warm enough to rain . . . a lot. So there we were, sliding around in 15+ inches of snow in the backyard, trying to get things out of the shed so we could shovel out the snow, mop up the water. The two of us trying to hold up one side of the roof with our heads, whilst attempting to put two-by-fours in place; me attempting to walk around the back of the shed with the rope (to tie down the tarp), dad yelling, “Keep going, keep going! All the way around!” and me yelling back, “I’m trying, I’m trying! I’m stuck in a tomato cage!”— a sight to behold, I’m sure.

Needless to say, I’m tired of winter. Which is not the best sign for the second week of January.

With that, I’ve been trying to rally. Hence, the photo from last year’s garden.

A girl’s gotta do, what a girl’s gotta do.

With that, I hope this finds you safe and sound; warm and cozy. And even if nothing but drabness surrounds you, may a hint of color (and hopefulness) seep in.

Happy weekend, my friends!

xo

A celebration for us all

3 Comments

img20160701_05143368

Ah, Independence Day, how you’ve graced us with the grandest of memories.

Cherry pit spitting contests and rousing games of croquet; the donning of red, white, and blue; eating our weight in All-American fare–hot dogs and potato salad, apple pie and root beer floats; wildly applauding a complete dud of a firework.

We still laugh about the time my dad lit a spinner firework in an old rusted out wheelbarrow; then my uncle ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, trying to keep it contained (do not–I repeat, do not try this at home).  Then there was the year we realized the rooftop of my grandparents’ home would afford us a spectacular view of the city’s firework display. We simply had to clamor up the old  freezer-turned-storage cabinet, settle in on the shaker shingles, and turn the radio dial to the appropriate station. Voila! Fourth-of-July magic.

Of course, once the final spark of the grand finale fizzled, things got a bit tricky. Suddenly, the ground was exceedingly far away and the trek down, fraught with peril.

Those were the days . . . 

Now, I almost dread the fourth of July. Don’t get me wrong; I still love a good celebration. But it seems too many drink and drive; too many set off illegal fireworks, without thought to dry trees and grasses, or those suffering Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (many of whom have fought to maintain our freedom).

But as in all of life’s uncertainties and disappointments, the key is to carry on.

With that, I do wish you a lovely fourth-of-July weekend–no matter where you call home. And to my fellow-Americans, let’s eat and laugh; let’s make new memories; let’s do so with thought and consideration to those around us, so it might be a true celebration for us all.

xo