Welcome to Canada, here’s your toque.

‘Cus baby,  it’s a wee bit nippy outside.  I know this.

First of all,  there was the recycling thing,  which is every Thursday in these parts,  so that was my first introduction to frigid temperatures, and then I had to hoof it down to the drug store for a little conflab.

It just occurred to me that I’m the only one who might know what a “conflab” is.  I think it might be an East Coast term.   But I included the link above for your edification.

You’re welcome.

One thing I made sure of in the recycling department, was to cut up the box from the TV.  Have you ever seen this?  Right after Christmas,  folks will put out boxes from their recently acquired nifty new novelties.  What a perfect opportunity for anyone looking to steal a new TV.  Or X-Box, or whatever.

You’re throwing out the box anyway, just take a minute and cut it up. And preferably place the pieces in such a way that none of the fancy bits are showing. 

If anyone of lower moral turpitude drives by and thinks we’re still using oil lamps,  I’m OK with that.   “We got nothin’ here.  Keep on moving.”

 

Going to the drug store wasn’t exactly my first choice of “what to do”  this morning.  Trust me.

However,  Travelling Companion is running out of these “test strips” that tell you just where you are in terms of your blood sugar level. 

I thought I’d stick a picture in there for you.  These suckers are expensive.  The price that was next to that image that I stole off the net was NINETY-FIVE BUCKS.  

The box that I took with me to the drug store had €55,00 on it (from Vienna), so that’s pretty close.

Anyhoodle,  the mission was to “call the doctor’s office and get a prescription” because,  you know,  they’re NINETY-FIVE BUCKS.   Well,  I didn’t check on the price at the drug store, but I’m sure they’re not *free*.  If there’s a prescription,  at least then we only have to pay the dispensing fee.

So why go to the drug store?  In the cold?  

Well,  unless T.C. can go in for an appointment,  and the nice lady on the phone at the doctor’s office said chances were slim,  the drug store needs to send a fax to their office,  the doc can look at it,  sign it and send it back.  Then they’ll call me. 

They said.

I suppose I could have called the drug store, or tried to,  but I find that doing the face to face thing much more effective.   Plus,  I need the exercise. 

No, really. 

 

 

OK,  I have to talk about this next thing because well,  it’s just plain amusing.

 

Did anyone watch any of the Nelson Mandela memorial?

T.C. and I watched snippets,  and the one thing that really caught my attention was this guy:

 

The “sign language Dude”.  

I even said to T.C. “what’s he doing?”   I mean,  I don’t know my ass from a hole in the ground when it comes to sign language, but whatever he was doing didn’t make any sense to me.  He was just kind of repeating himself and swaying back and forth.  I first noticed the swaying back and forth because you know, interpreters are supposed to sort of blend in back there,  aren’t they? 

I mean,  shouldn’t you be able to listen to the speech and then go, “Oh, that’s the sign for that?”   Right?

Nope,  turns out sign language is much easier than I thought.  Who knew?

Sign me up!   Is that a pun?  Maybe not.

OK hang on.  I just have to stop here until I can clear the tears (of laughter) from my eyes.   Oh the humanity!

 

He says he was “hallucinating”.   Due to his schizophrenia.  Wow.

*Awesome*.

Oh the questions.   How did he get this job?  Was it a referral?  Whom is he related to?  Where did he buy that suit? 

OK fine,  it’s a nice enough suit.  Never mind.

Feel free to talk amongst yourselves.

 

 

I could have easily let this go I suppose,  but I figured I’d be sure and take a picture of my nipple.  Oooh, that didn’t sound right,  I’ll be getting hits from creepy guys.  (or gals?)

You can see it there between those two boxes.  I realise I could have run 12-2 wire for the new washing machine, since it only draws 10 amps,  but that wasn’t going to happen.  So all of you electrical critics can just go pound sand. 

The next big challenge will be getting rid of the old machine.  Annoyingly,  it still works.  It just makes that clunking sound when it spins.  *grumble*

My preference would have been to run the thing until it absolutely refused to work anymore,  but T.C. didn’t want to run the risk of being without a machine.   Or something,  I don’t know.  Before I could turn around twice,  we had a new machine.

I do realise that the last time a machine crapped out on us it wasn’t the best situation,  but we had a house full of bodies.

These days there’s only the two of us,  and I’m pretty sure we have enough socks and underwear to last at least a few weeks.  But hey,  I only get one vote.

 

I think that’s it for today kids.  I’ll be here by the phone,  waiting for the call from the drug store.   Oh joy.

 

Keep it between the ditches.  Bundle up if you have to.

 

Thanks for lookin’.

 

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