Well, at least now we have a better understanding.

Or,  "how I learned to stay in the car".

I didn't take any snazzy pictures,  so you'll have to be satisfied with a few words.   I'll try to be punchy.

Anyhoodle,  a decision was made to make an excursion to a particular butcher/deli kind of place about half way between here and downtown Toronto.

Now,  I should say that,  our impression is, that Toronto has been somewhat hard hit by the Coronavirus,  but I don't have any actual numbers to back up that particular observation,  so you'll have to take my word for it.
Suffice to say,  in a similar fashion to most any large city,  the occurrence of COVID-19 is considerably higher than most any place in suburbia. 

Well,  unless it's a meat processing plant,  but that's a whole other clusterfuck.

I'm referring to the "Family Meat and Deli"  on Brown's Line.  You can look it up if you give a rat's ass.

But here's the thing.

There was some talk about "needing some meat",  both on the part of T.C.'s older sister (she'll be 85 this summer, so we prefer to get her stuff,  rather than have her go shopping)  as well as a few things that they carry that we like.   I'm referring of course to kranjska klobasa. 

Our first clue should have been when T.C.'s sister called them a couple days ago,  and the word was,  "Oh sure,  the two of you can come in,  or you can order ahead of time."

Didn't register.  But that should have been a red flag.

Now that we think on it,  there are no deli type of stores that are just allowing folks to "come in". 

The one we have here in Burlington was trying that a few weeks back,  by only allowing two people in the store at a time,  but when I was there,  I could see that it clearly wasn't working. 
The thing is,  once you go into this type of place,  you really need to stand in one spot,  and not ramble around trying to decide what you want.  If it wasn't for the fact that I would have had to touch the guy,  I really wanted to clobber this one fellow who simply couldn't seem to figure out what he wanted without wandering up and down the display case.

In the meanwhile,  that particular store (J & G Meats)  has very astutely realised that having customers in the store simply doesn't work, and have gone to "curb side" shopping.   We all know what that is,  so no need to explain.

So,  back to "Family Meat....".   And this is all I know from the report that I got back from T.C. 

They haven't a clue.

After she donned her mask and went in,  I saw two more people go in,  (without masks on, I might add)  and it looked like there were already at least two or three in the store.   And this is not a big store.  About as wide as the average townhouse. 

Not that wide.

So,  T.C. is trying to keep her distance,  getting somewhat hassled by other shoppers,  who don't know where to stand,  and then?   They're calling out numbers!

She bailed. 

Apparently,  there was only one lady behind the counter,  and just how she was supposed to be cleaning anything (including the number thingy)  was unclear.  (like,  impossible)  Plus,  there was no protection for the cashier,  like the sort of screen that mostly all of the retail outlets have installed.  Just a disaster waiting to happen.


So now we know.   We know why the numbers are so much higher in a city like Toronto compared to say,  Burlington. 

It's not just the stupid people.  I think it also has to do with a sense that,  even though there might be a ticket in the offing,  the by law officers are so few and far between,  that there's no worries about anyone putting up a fuss.

It was a nice day for a drive.

Which is to say,  not a nice day to be outdoors.   We had snow.  It was maybe one or two degrees above zero when we got up.  Not sure what to say about May.  It pretty much sucks so far.  Naturally,  I've already switched out the winter tires. 

On the other hand,  the Marinas aren't opening,  which means the boats won't be going in the water any time soon.   But in light of the crappy weather,  that seems to be an OK thing.   Who knew?

Still unclear how the whole sailing thing is going to pan out this summer. 

We'll see.


That's all I got.

Thanks for moving your eyes back and forth.

Keep washing those hands.

One job a day.

Sometimes it's more than one,  but I figure if I can do one "job" a day,  then well,  that'll have to do.

You'll note that I put "job" in quotes.  I haven't actually had to go to an actual job in.... *thinks* twelve years now.
(and if I were still working,  I'd bet anything that I would have been laid off by now...yikes!)

Well,  it'll be twelve coming up in May.  I vaguely recollect that I left my job on May 8th of 2008.  In hind sight,  I sort of wish it had been May the forth,  and I'll let any Star Wars fans cogitate on that one.

Sometimes I count making the bed as a "job".

A wee bit lame,  I realise.  It depends on whether I might have any thoughts of actually doing something that day....


I'm not one to jump in a vehicle and go out for a drive,  just because I can.  However,  on Friday I think it was,  T.C. asked me, "When was the last time you drove your truck?"  And I couldn't actually come up with a day.  I think it was at least a couple weeks ago,  when I ventured off to Costco. 
I'm mustering up my courage to once again go to Costco tomorrow morning,  and I can't say I'm exactly looking forward to it.
Hopefully, 1) I won't have to stand out in the cold too long and,  2) They'll have everything on our what is now a somewhat lengthy list.

Like I said.  Not looking forward to it.

So,  as the truck had been in fact sitting in one spot for over a week,  I figured I had better go for a little drive on Saturday.  Just up to the plaza and back.  Probably all of five kilometres.  Maybe.  I guess.  Who knows?

Long enough to warm up everything,  and check on the situation at Home Despot where they are bringing stuff out to your vehicle after you order it on line.  They had the parking lot blocked off part way with stacks of skids,  forcing folks to only be able to go in one way,  and it looked as though you had to have something along with you letting them know you were there to pick something up.  No loitering.  No going in to "look around".  Probably the way it should have been all along.

Now,  here's a curious thing.   A couple years ago,  I very naively was looking for something or other on the Home Despot website,  and when I got to the store,  I couldn't seem to find the thing I had seen on the line.
 When I asked what the heck was going on,  I was told in no uncertain terms that,  "What's on the website isn't necessarily in the store."  Huh??   I'm pretty sure I was looking at whatever they were supposed to have AT THAT LOCATION,  as I had to first "Choose your store".   I suspect they had to step up their game in light of recent restrictions,  or nobody would be gettin' nothin'. *

I'm not a huge fan of Home Despot.  Just because well,  they do tend to run roughshod over other small businesses.  I can give a couple examples,  but those ships have sailed long ago.

Anyhoodle,  my "big job"  for today,  was cleaning out one of our chest freezers.  I specifically bought a 7 cubic foot freezer, not long after we moved here back in the 90s,  rather than have some gargantuan thing into which you could put an entire half a cow, so that it would be much easier to manage.   That is to say,  keep clean.

It's worked out pretty good so far.  No left over wedding cake,  or dried flowers,  or anything else other than food that's hopefully going to be consumed before ye olde freezer burn takes over.

I didn't take any pictures,  but basically it involves having some place to put the contents (a freshly cleaned out tote with a lid)  along with a number of ice packs (that were very conveniently already in the freezer)  and a heat gun.  Or,  you can use a hair dryer. 
The thing is, the freezer is going to take way too long to thaw out after being unplugged,  so the whole process needs to be sped up with a little persuasion.
There had been some Lasagna  in there that had been a little too generous in the sauce department,  so that was fun.  That of course,  was my own damned fault,  as I'm the one who would have put the Lasagna in there in the first place,  so I must have been somewhat less than careful,  and the thing leaked out a bit.  Gah!

But the exciting news was,  there was just ONE MORE peach pie filling left over. 
And here we thought T.C. had used the last one a couple weeks ago.

Bonus!

Speaking of "my own damned fault",  now the stupid squirrels are waiting patiently outside the back door just about every time I go out,  as we had a bag of walnuts that "didn't taste right",  and had to go.
So over time,  I fed the lot to the squirrels.

They still do get the odd heal off a loaf of bread,  but in these tougher times,  I've been known to actually eat the heels, rather than throw them to the squirrels.

Selfish of me to actually eat the food I paid for,  I know.

He's waiting!

I'm sure he can go off and find a nut out in the yard some place.  I'm forever seeing holes in the lawn where they've been digging.

Oh,  and in the 'job' department,  T.C. made some more noodles.

I realise I normally don't mention too much anything that T.C. might have done,  but I gotta say, once you've had home made pasta,  eating "store bought"  just kind of loses it's appeal.


Thanks for stopping by.

Keep your stick on the ice,  and wash your hands.


*All grammar mistakes are intentional.

I see dumb people.

What was that movie where the little boy kept saying,  "I see dead people"?    "The sixth sense",  as it turns out.

Anyway,  today T.C. and I had to go out.  Not to be taken lightly,  but there was need for a few things for the weekend.   One of the stores that we have around here is a place called "Denninger's".   It's actually "Denninger's Foods of the World",  but we only use the shortened version.

There are only five locations around these parts,  and they have their own manufacturing facility where they make a lot of their own products,  such as sausages etc.

Most times I think one pays a little more than maybe at a regular store,  but the quality is always there.

I naively thought she was going on her own,  but I was sadly mistaken.   There was the possibility of calling in an order and having them bring it out to the car,  but that would have meant that someone on the other end would have to pick up the damned phone. 

Besides,  T.C. said she wanted to pick out her own stuff anyway.  So fine,  I waited in the car,  and in she went.   And by the way,  that whole "I waited in the car and in she went"  protocol would be exactly the same whether there was a pandemic or not. 

Just wanted to let you know.

I shop,  or she shops.  We typically do not shop together.  Just...a thing.

Interesting arrangement.  The store that is. They had squirrelled away most of the carts,  so that there were only enough carts for as many people as they were going to allow in at any given time.  What that number was,  I have no clue,  but I was quite surprised that T.C.  didn't have to wait outside,  the way it seems to go with most places right about now.  There was a cart available,  freshly wiped down,  and off she went.

Then of course,  I get to watch all the clever folks coming out.  Some wore masks.  Some wore masks and gloves.  Masks I'm OK with.  You want to wear a mask?   Go for it.  Just don't touch it.  Don't touch your face.  So there's this one old guy (OK fine,  maybe he's my age,  but I'm sure he was older)  He comes out with his bags of stuff,  he's wearing gloves and a mask.  And I'm thinking,  "Well there you go,  good for you."
He gets in the car after putting his stuff in the back seat,  and THEN takes off the gloves,  and takes off his mask.

And you might be thinking,  "Well,  so?". 

See,  once upon a time,  when we were trained on cleaning up blood and "blood products" (not sure what the hell that was supposed to be,  but whatever)  we were trained in a special way as to how to take off gloves so as not to get the contaminant on your person.  There's a trick to it.  And,  if you're NOT wearing gloves,  you need to wash your hands or use sanitiser BEFORE you touch anything.  Or get into your car,  touching your steering wheel,  and so on.   Alternatively,  you take off the gloves before getting into the car etc. 

Not only that,  but then he proceeds to touch his face.  Like,  wipe his nose with the back of his hand.  And I'm just sitting there shaking my head.
I managed to not yell it out,  but I'm sure I said,  "Dude,  you just missed the whole point!" 

There were more examples,  but I'm starting to get really agitated here.


In other news,   T.C. saw a "bug".    Well,  really it was some tiny little moth like creature that was flying around up in the office,  but somehow it was in our food. 

Some how.


I heard this...rustling and crinkling of plastic,  and thought maybe I'd investigate.

Right.  Everything had to come out of the pantry. 
 
The good news is,  we did get rid of some Couscous and Quinoa from,  I don't know,  years ago.  Along with some other mystery packets of rice.   Oh and,  these tiny little packets of gelatin.  Gelatin?  Huh?

And? No bugs.

You have to understand that,  one cannot simply dismiss this sort of thing.   Best to go along.  I made sure I was checking the cereal as instructed.  It too was bug free. 

I'm reasonably certain that the little moth like flying thing has more to do with springtime on the way,  and not something we brought in from a store.    Or that is lying in wait with his multitude of friends,  ready to take over the house.

Hope y'all are staying safe. 

Thanks for stopping by.

Don't touch your face,  until you....

Wash your hands.

And of course,  keep your stick on the ice.

Well, I had to do it.

Go out,  that is.

I think there was a slight welling up of panic when I realised that the coffee container that I was about to empty was not the second last one,  but the last one!

Gah!
 
Gotta step up my game when it comes to knowing what I have in store,  as I thought I had a spare.  I always have a spare.

So,  I sucked it up and went to Costco.   And I must say,  they've figured it out.

First of all,  I did have to go out early Monday morning,  as we were getting down on the bread end of things,  and the store down the street had an hour set aside for "old folks"  from seven to eight.  AND,  unlike the store where T.C. had to go to last week,  these guys had a security guard at the entrance way,  sort of eyeing everyone on their way in so as to make sure they were in fact seniors. 
Apparently,  I qualify.   No need for I.D. 
Not sure if that should sadden me or not.
And it was not crowded in the least.
I made sure to profusely thank all the employees for being there that early.

Anyway,  Costco also has an hour set aside before they open,  from eight until nine on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday for seniors but unfortunately,  I didn't get that memo in time,  so I went for normal hours. 

Not a huge deal.

I naively grabbed a cart from one of the corrals to take in with me,  but that wasn't needed,  as they were sanitising all the carts just as you went in,  so no need for the gloves or wipes on my part.  AND,  they had two distinct areas/lines set up,  divided by piles of skids,  so as to separate those going in,  from those coming out.  We did have to line up,  with everyone far enough apart for proper distancing etiquette.   Plus,  there was a bit of a wait,  as they were only allowing a certain number of shoppers in at once.  I read somewhere that the number was 50,  but don't quote me.

Then it was pretty much easy peasy from then on,  as they had everything that was on my list.  And no,  I didn't need toilet paper,  although I did see that they had boatloads. 

Then,  coming out,  there were two distinct lines to get up to the check out area,  with hash marks on the floor as a reminder of proper distancing etiquette once again.  It was very orderly.   Didn't have to put my groceries on the belt.  Had a spot to stand as it was being rung up,  the cashier scanned my Costco card from about six feet away (a bit of overkill I thought)  and I only really had to come in contact with the payment terminal,  which her assistant had just wiped down.  I had sanitiser with me and gave my hands a going over after all that as well.

Oh and,  they didn't do that whole checking off your crap against your receipt thing either.  I never did understand that.  Like they're able to tell if you've got all your goods?  Really?  Or that you somehow miraculously were able to slip an extra huge bag of flour onto your cart?

They had removed one of the terminals at each end of the line of terminals in order to make extra room.  This was a welcome change from the way it had always been,  where your cart goes one way,  and you're forced into an area next to the other member behind you.  I never did like that.

And,  as I said to the cashier,  I've never liked it when fellow shoppers get too close to me anyway,  so I was completely good with the whole situation.    Like,  beyond happy.   Thinking up catchy T-shirt captions,  that sort of thing.*

I think I first started to notice folks being too close to me when we lived in Puerto Rico,  as fellow shoppers were forever getting well into my comfort zone.  Thankfully,  I'm taller than most Puerto Ricans,  so I never got any of the head colds that always seemed to be going around.  That's also probably where I really started to become a bit of a Germaphobe. 

Or maybe even before that?   Not sure.


Oh,  speaking of which,  and this was the only time I actually spoke with another shopper,  while standing in line,  I couldn't help but notice what I think was a lady who,  for what can only be due to paranoia,  was basically covered from head to toe in plastic.   She had plastic bags on her feet,  some sort of plastic bag on her torso.  Plastic bags on each leg.  A mask,  and the obligatory plastic bag on her head. 

I so wish I had taken my camera.

Oh and,  she was lining her cart with newspaper!   Newspaper!

Because apparently them spraying down all the carts just before they give you one wasn't enough, and somehow you can get a virus through your feet?
The floors were so clean you could eat off them.  And I dare say,  as a result of some of the over the top efforts of just about any place you can think of,  floors in public places these days are probably cleaner than most people's houses!


So,  the guy in front of me saw this at about the same time as me,  turned to me,  said not a word.   But I had to say,  "OK,  there's being prepared,  and then there's being paranoid."

But hey,  whatever floats yer boat.   I mean,  you can cut up an onion,  put it in your bedroom,  and as long as you never leave your bedroom,  you'll never get sick. 
True.
It probably works just as well with watermelon,  but they'd need to be in season.

No plans to go anywhere for a few days again,  as I'll head to the wine making place to pick up our new supply on Tuesday.   I was going to go today,  but let me just say,  it's surprising just how often one relies on one's back muscles for the simplest things?

No big deal.  I've done this before.  Just happened to bend down the wrong way,  and ouch!
I'll be better by Tuesday I'm sure.  Just...putting on socks this morning was....a chore. 

Annoyingly,  I have a few things in the house that need shifting around,  which normally T.C. and I could manage together,  so that's out the window.  Plus of course,  I can't even call on one of the Daughter Units or Sons-in-law to come help,  as we don't want to have anyone come to the house. 


Thanks for stopping by.

Keep your stick on the ice.

And wash your hands.



*I'm thinking of a caption like,  "Now I can say it.  Get the f**k away from me!"

On a bit of a roll.

I wanted to say,  "on a tear",   but that's a tricky word.  There were no tears (weeping) involved,  but it's the same word used to rip something in two.   Sometimes I feel bad (actually, "badly" but that doesn't sound right)  for those whose Mother Tongue is not English,  and who then have to try and figure it out.   That word "tear",  is not only a homonym,  but are heteronym. 

OK,  confused yet?   I knew it was a "homonym",  but didn't realise there were different types until I looked it up.   Isn't the internet wonderful? 

Well,  mostly.

Anyhoo,  I got it into my pea brain yesterday morning to do a little maintenance around the joint,  and started off by changing the oil in the stand-by generator.  It wasn't due for an oil change,  but I wasn't keen on the look of the oil,  and I have this thing about changing oil in a machine at least once a year anyway,  whether it needs it or not. 

You can see there that the oil looks kind of gross.  I even flushed some fresh oil through the thing,  just because I could.  Oil is cheap,  basically,  and I have damned near half a case of oil left over from when I used do oil changes on the motorhome.   And no,  it wasn't about the money.  Just the inconvenience of getting the thing out of storage,  taking it to some place that had a hoist that was capable of lifting the thing.  The final straw was when the dizzy...whatever at the counter forgot my appointment,  and well,  that kinda turned me off going back there.   Bought a creeper,  a case of oil at Costco,  and picked up filters at Napa.  And that was that.

But I digress.

Oh and by the way,  yes I unhooked the negative terminal of the battery.  If it were to randomly start up due to a power outage (really?)  that would be a definite "no bueno".

As I was in the mood,  I figured I'd do the lawn mower too.  And yes,  I know,  changing the oil in the fall is kinda dumb,  but it's been a while,  and....oil is cheap.

The blue mat is for my ageing knees.

What I have done in the case of each of these thingies is,  I write right next to the oil drain plug the size of the wrench I need.  A "Sharpie" works great.
The generator is 13mm,  the mower is 10.   So much easier than fumbling around.
I think I saw that tip way back when,  in the pre-internet days of "Popular Mechanics".  You could glean a certain amount of useful information to help you do your own stuff.  After having sifted through all the flotsam of course.

Kind of like the internet,  actually.  The flotsam part, I mean.


Now I just have to use up or drain the fuel in the mower and the weed whacker,  and that'll be it for the season.  I *might*  need to cut the grass one last time.  We'll see.

And....if the weather is anything like it is today for our trip to Buffalo on Monday to see the Bills game,  it's gonna kinda suck.

We're having some sort of apocalyptic rain and wind today,  and it ain't pleasant out there at all. 

Having a bitch of a time with grabbing a screen shot with this f**king Windows 10 that I have.  Crikey.   But here's what I got:

We'll see what Monday brings.

Thanks for stopping by.

Sorry there, little birds.

And this happens each and every spring.  I wage a battle with the birds that are immediately attracted to the front of the house,  where nest building is their thing.

And I get it.  There are some really great spots up there for nest building.  And I *almost* wouldn't mind too much if it weren't for all the crap that ends up everywhere.  Bad enough to get birdshit on the car,  it's even more annoying when it's just out of reach on the front of the house.

To quote one of my favourite childhood cartoon heros,  "That's all I can stands,  'cause I can't stands no more."

Here,  in case you're still wondering:


Popeye


OK,  where was I?

Right.   So,  in spite of the really crappy weather,  the birds are coming back north,  and they're looking for spot to hang out.

We've had a Morning Dove "nest" on the pillar of the front porch.   We've had Robins do the same.  Now,  I have "nest" in quotation marks,  as it seems that Morning Doves....wait.  I just realised,  they're "Mourning Doves",  not Morning Doves.   Even though that ridiculous cooing sound they make is enough to drive you around the bend in the morning,  that's not a thing.

Their "nest" consisted of a few strands of dead grass,  amongst which they laid two eggs,  which then proceeded to roll off,  breaking on the cement steps below,  making a mess.  I gave them the bum's rush.

The robins however,  managed to get a nest built and had eggs in it before I was able to properly get up there and knock their creation down,  so we watched those little guys hatch and fly away.  Pretty sure I wrote about that once upon a time.
I'm not that cold hearted that I'd knock down a nest that had eggs in it. 
No, really.

So then we have the sparrows.

Holy Moly.

Like I said,  if they'd just not shit all over the place,  I might let them build a nest up under the eves,  but NO.
I mean,  I like birds. 
Again...really.

So,  I had to do some hackin' and hewin'.

The results:

And over on the other side:

Note the snow still hanging around,  even though it's been raining pretty steady for the last, oh I don't know,  20 hours or so?   It's above freezing,  but just refuses to leave.

This isn't just one board though,  it's a multi piece contraption that fits in the opening in such a way as to prevent birds from both sides of the purlin.   A  Purlin , by the way, is basically a roofing member that runs perpendicular to the rafters.  In the case of The Ponderosa here,  the builder fancied things up by having them come out past the front of the building.

There,  you learned something.

And,  as is the norm with this kind of thing,  it never really occurred to me to take a "before" picture. 

Figures.

Travelling Companion couldn't quite get her head around the idea that I did this from inside the house,  even though I explained the use of a sliding T-Bevel to get the angle,  along with only needing three of the dimensions to work with.   Kind of like when she tries to explain to me some sort of special sewing thing or other,  and I try not to let it show that my eyes are starting to glaze over.
Look interested....nod your head,  nod your head.

Like that.

Oh and,  "Sliding T-bevel"?   Just look it up.


Thanks for stopping by.

For those of you for whom this applies:  Bundle up.

For anyone else where it's warm?

Well,  I'm *happy* for you.

Keep your stick on the ice.

Happy! What is it again? Family Day?

Right.  

It's a relatively new thing,  this "Family Day",  and good on ya if you don't have to go to work today.
Gotta love long weekends.

"Every day is Saturday" around here,  so...

But let's not rub it in.

It's a beautiful day out,  although a bit cooler this morning than the last two days.  We've gone from snow on the ground to virtually shirt sleeve weather.

Well,  "shirt sleeve weather" for Canadians.

I recall being in Vegas over New Years one year with one of our friends who is a "Florida Girl",  and she refused to go outside,  as it was "too cold" for her.   It was maybe in the fifties,  but we had jackets.  Friends don't mock friends for having different comfort levels,  so we stayed in.


Coincidentally,  we have had a bit of a "family weekend",  as both Daughter Number One and Daughter Number Two came by yesterday to get a lesson from T.C. on making Perogies.
  (Hm.  Spell Check doesn't know about Perogies.  Idiots)

Some were immediately consumed,  while others were taken away to be frozen individually on trays. The "three stages of Perogy making"  according to Daughter Number Two.

I only stick around for "Stage Three"  to be honest.   Although I do tend to end up pitching in for the clean up at the end.
You know,  just to "take one for the team",  so to speak.


Meanwhile,  I've finished painting the bedroom.
I do realise that,  up until now,  it's all been talk about the bathroom,  but since apparently that's not quite enough to keep me busy,  the bedroom needed freshening up as well.

Along with just painting,  I wanted to smooth out some parts of one outside wall where the wood strapping had shrunk and pulled in the plaster just enough to be noticeable.

Hey,   *I* could see it.  And it was bugging me.


This involves adding thin layers of compound such that the wall has some semblance of flatness.  I'm slightly OCD that way.

Along with that little time consuming endeavour,  I had always wanted to add a receptacle over closer to the side of the bed,  where there always should have been one.

You can see it down there in the far corner on the left.

I've never understood why electrical contractors think it prudent to stick one plug in the middle of the room and call it a day.  There's going to be a bed in the bedroom.  What are ya thinking?

Anyway,  these are the final colours:

I took apart some of the built ins to make it easier.

I got that all put back together yesterday.

There are a couple more fiddly things to sort out,  but I'm basically done in there.

Er,  I guess that's about it.

Hope you're enjoying your "Family Day",  and for those of you south of the 49th,  Happy President's Day!
  
I think I prefer the family angle over the other one to be honest.

Keep your stick on the ice.

Thanks for stopping by.

Pie for dinner.

And I’m not kidding.  There was a somewhat substantial lunch,  so I’d best cut down.

Daughter Number One had called earlier today to say she was finished with her “site check” up in Bolton,  and would T.C. and I like to go to lunch?

The fact that she was willing to come by and fetch us was no doubt a good thing,  since a crew showed up this morning and proceeded to rip up the street right in front of our driveway.

I guess since the car was in the garage,  they maybe figured nobody was home?

Anyhoodle,  lunch was just fine, especially as T.C. and I don’t get to see DNO all that often since well,  life can get busy.

Needless to say, there are always enough things to keep me busy as well.  Not that I need “busy work” or anything,  but it’s probably just as well that I don’t lounge around too much. I’m sure both brain and body would quickly go to mush.

 

Right around this time of year, there’s always those little chores that need to be done before the onset of winter.

Pardon the language.

The winter rims for Daughter Number Two’s aging car were looking kind of sad,  and Muggins here wasn’t about to buy her new ones.  So a can of spray paint would have to do.

See,  looks just fine.

It’s been so long since I’ve had anything to say here,  that there’s a certain amount of catching up to do.  Like,  Thanksgiving weekend,  for example.

 

For the last few years now,  we’ve been going up to the Kawarthas (Ontario Cottage country for those of you south of the 49th) for Thanksgiving weekend.  As there’s not quite enough room at the cottage where all the festivities take place,  we have managed to find a place to rent nearby every time.

This time we were just down the road,  which was well within walking distance, except for that minor wrinkle of having to lug food, beer, wine etc.   So the “within walking distance” thing was kind of moot.

 

It was a nice enough place,  with plenty of room, on Sturgeon Lake.  And “pet free”. 

Sorry pet owners.  I make enough mess on my own.

We had a chuckle at what was passed off as a pool table though.

What exactly is the point here?

 

That’s a card table its sitting on.  We didn’t play….

The place we rented last year had a crokinole board, so even though it was farther away (a ten minute drive,  as opposed to a ten minute walk),  we might go back there again next year.  Plus,  there was a ping-pong table.

 

Anyway,  I was quietly reminded why I’ve never had a huge desire to own a cottage.

 

Daughter Number One testing the water.

I stayed on shore.

 

Apparently,  there are these “things” that you have to take out of the water in the fall. 

OK then. 

I did offer to go in the water.  Had my trunks and such.  There were water shoes available. 

I was giving a pass. 

Mind you,  everything was still slimy and covered in zebra muscles.  If I get suckered  offer to do this again next year,  I’ll be sure and bring gloves. 

I kept thinking,  “There must be a better way to do this”.  Something involving some sort of machine?  Hoist?

Certainly nothing involving brute strength. 

Right, me?  Brute strength?  I hardly think so.

 

Anyway,  it’s Election Day here in The Great White North.  The Federal variety this time.  So it’ll be late tonight before we know who will form the next government. 

I won’t get into it.  It’s been 78 days of seeing WAY too much of political talking heads on TV.  That’s all I’ll say.  I can’t even begin to comprehend how they start to campaign and lobby and whatever a full TWO YEARS before the Presidential election in the States.   Not sure I could handle it.

At that rate,  they’ll start campaigning right after the dust settles for the next election in four years.  I mean,  shouldn’t there be a limit? 

 

Can you tell I don’t have a lot of patience for certain things?   Like old codgers who take WAY TOO LONG to cast their ballot at your polling station?   Let me copy and paste an excerpt from an email I sent off to one of my Pub Buddies this morning.

(saves me writing it over again)

 

T.C. (I redacted her proper name) and I already walked over to St. Pat's (the church) to linger around our polling station, where it seems there was the slowest man on the face of the planet.  (voting).   Couldn't figure out exactly WHY it was taking so bloody long at our station,  but then it became abundantly clear.   Old fart.  Talking.  Asking stupid questions.  (Like,  "are there pancakes?")

I would NOT have the patience to deal with some of these stupid old buggers.   I mean seriously,  you cannot be that old,  and it be your "first time". 

Ever see that skit of Tim Conway,  as he shuffles across the floor?  

Ya,  like that.  Not exaggerating.

 

You can watch it here.

 

At first I thought it was the fault of the two old biddies at the table,  which was partly true,  since it seemed that the one didn't have English as her first language,  which of course meant looking up addresses written with the Latin Alphabet was a challenge,  I'm sure.  (I mean,  I'd have issues trying to decipher someone's address written in Farsi, wouldn’t you?)

And the other one (a bit older, partly blind and barely able to move)  didn't have the gumption to tell the old geezer to snap it up a bit. 

Fucking near lost my shit.

Sorry,  I didn’t “redact” that last part.  That’s the way I talk sometimes.  Mostly for effect, I’m sure you’ll agree.

 

But I kept it together.  Especially as T.C. was standing right there. 

 

Suffice to say, I could not do that job. 

 

Right,  I’m getting a bit wordy.  And I’ve finished my pie.  Maybe a little too much pie.  Made a bit too much whipped cream.  Not sure what to do.  *Snort*!

 

 

Thanks for stopping by.

I get these ideas.

It’s been a few days once again.  Need more discipline on the blogging end of things I suppose.

Anyway,  one thing leads to another,  and before I know it,  I’ve pulled out the fridge.  It all started with what looked like one single filament of spider web that looked like it was taunting me from the ceiling.

“Now where did that come from?”

Well,  that needs to be vacuumed.  And if we’re hauling out the hose for the central vac, may as well go over the kitchen floor once more and,  since there wasn’t really all that much to speak of,  may as well haul out the fridge.

See how that happens? 

Now, admittedly it was a heckova sight cleaner than the last time I hauled it out,  which was shortly after we moved home from being away for nearly five years.  I remember hearing some of my former Caretaking Associates use the expression,  “The dust was an inch thick”,  which of course was an exaggeration. 

But not that time.

We won’t speak of it.  Pets are fun.  Just don’t look behind the fridge.

 

I think we can let the dirt pile up a little bit for at least a day or two.

I had to do the “once over” on Saturday,  since we had company coming,   then there was a “once over” again yesterday,  since it was the bi-weekly “professional cleaning”,  then we had company again today,  which really didn’t involve anything more than me having to run out and get provisions.  This was a couple co-workers from T.C.’s former employer.  Still referred to as The Company that Cannot be Named after all,  since she’s doing consulting work for them these days. 

Go ahead and roll your eyes.

Cuts into her sewing time, apparently.  Can’t speak to that.

Saturday’s evening meal involved firing up the Weber and slapping on some juicy tenderloin type steaks.  I kind of look upon eating steak in the same way that I view going to the Opera.  Go pricey or go home.  I can’t abide by chewing on sinewy, low grade meat, so there’s never really any time that I’d buy it.  Same with concert tickets.  Why sit up in the nosebleed section?

No pictures of the finished meal.  Too busy yakking. 

 

We did stop by the workplace of Daughter Number Two to pick up a few things.

 

I was there again this morning to pick up a couple awesome salads.  So nice to just walk in,  bag up a couple containers,  pays me money and be off again.  Oh and they had fresh bread too. 

Making any kind of salad isn’t really my number one love of things to do.  Don’t mind eating them, just not keen on making them.  I think I’ve complained about this in the past.  Perhaps not here,  but just for the record.  Not. My. Favourite. Thing.

 

 

Yesterday we made a little trip up to Guelph for a fitting.  See,  T.C. has been making a pair of pants for one of her sisters, and it helps to have the subject try them on at least once. 

She announced when we called to say we were on our way that she now had “three chairs”.  This is good.  There would be three of us.

She had allegedly “fixed” one of them,  but when I sat on it,  I realised that I’d need to measure my breathing, or I might just end up on the floor. 

 

 

So of course,  I ended up bringing the chair home.

Now,  as much as I’m a “pretty good beginner” on the woodworking end of things,  I’ve never really like working on or repairing chairs.  So there were no heroics.  I drilled out the “repairs”,  put it back together,  holding it all in place with a band clamp,  and threw in some three inch screws.  If it breaks again,  we’ll buy her some new chairs.

It sits level on the floor,  and that’s all I care about.

I think T.C. said she might go up to Guelph on Friday.  Not sure if I’ll be pressed into chauffeuring duties.   I have no qualms about staying home.

 

 

Oh oh!  Have to mention this.  Did you hear?  Ted Cruz is going to run for Prez!  Awesome!

 

 

Hey,  maybe Sarah (I can see Russia from my House) Palin will be his running mate?  That would also be truly awesome. 

Can I get a job on one of those late night shows? 

You know, I’d work for free.  There’s so much material there, any fool could come up with some zingers.

 

 

Do you know what’s behind your fridge??

 

Huh? Huh?

 

Sticks. Ice.  You know.

 

Thanks for stopping by.