I'm Dreamin' of a Red(neck) Christmas!

     In the movie, The Tourist, Johnny Depp says (paraphrased), "One of the nicest compliments a person can receive from an American is that they are down to earth." It's true. It's very flattering to be considered down to earth. Well, my husband's family is the epitome of down to earth. They also have the foulest language and the most appalling manners when not in mixed company.
     Aaanyway, we had dinner at my sister-in-law's house at 4:30 pm on Christmas Eve - my brother-in-law doesn't like to eat late. Most of the dinner conversation progressed something like the HBO pep talk from Washington Capitals Coach Bruce Boudreau. If you haven't seen that, you should YouTube it. I found it very uplifting.
     One dinner topic was a synopsis of Margie hitting a deer last week. She has since had the car fixed... or at least the headlight. My sister-in-law, Kathy, was riding in the car and the two were chatting about the latest County news while going about 100 km/hr. All of a sudden, Kathy points out the windshield and screams, "Holy Fuck! Deer!" As a result, the bumper was pert near ripped off and the deer was off in the bush. Arrangements were made for a roadside abattoir and Kathy tried not to puke while the deer was skinned and dismembered. Recipes for venison sausage were exchanged and there was a general feeling of having won the lottery in spite of the damage to the car. Speaking of which, during her call to the O.P.P. to report the accident, Margie's final words were, "Can you make it quick? I'm on my way to BINGO and I don't want to be late."
     Christmas Day, we went back to Kathy's house for breakfast. Hijinks ensued. There are almost 10 of us around the picnic table in the kitchen - Big Reet, Big Rod, Big Paff, Candoo, Joey, Ralphy, Keith and myself - plus my three great-nephews: Jordan, Carter and Carson. We were all enjoying a traditional breakfast with several Pillsbury Cinnamon Buns. Ralphy asked her mother for one with extra icing, but while she was eating ham and eggs drowned in ketchup, her husband, Ryan, started eating her sticky bun. Rod and I were snickering and Ralphy couldn't figure out what was so funny. When she finally realized, she called Ryan every name in the book and asked her mother for another. Within a minute, Ryan was secretly scarfing down her second cinnamon bun. Ralphy took her third cinnamon bun, the last of the batch, and covered it with one hand while she finished her breakfast.
     I was in the other room when I heard the screaming. Ralphy had to grab her sticky bun back from Ryan, who tried the old smash and grab technique. She had it for a millisecond before Rodney grabbed it back from her and tried to smoosh it in her face. The poor girl was face down on the picnic table with Rodney's knee on her back, howling through a mouthful of toast and defending herself with her hands while trying to prevent the icing from getting on her new Aeropostale hoodie. Oh, what fun family is.
     Rodney had Christmas dinner with his other niece and about 75 of his closest family and friends. We currently have 15 great-nieces and -nephews on his side alone. One of these great-nephews, aged 4, was starting to act up a bit and his mother gave a loud sigh to tell him he was pushing his luck. "Mom," he said impatiently. "You said you weren't going to yell anymore." Apparently, he misunderstood her New Year's resolution to keep her cool with unlimited permission to misbehave.
     He will likely grow up to be like his Uncle, who called Rodney's cell phone at 2 a.m. after attending a Christmas party in Picton last week. I will remove the expletives from his conversation, just to save space. The message he left was, "Hey, buddy. I love you. I'm on Upper Lake street freezing to death. Can't get a ride home. I've got no friends and I think the old lady kicked me out." When he got no answer from Rodney, he called 911 to plead his case. "Yeah, I'm out here freezing to death. I can't get a cab. You guys have got to do something. If I stay out here much longer, I'm gonna be a popsicle. I pay my taxes! You need to send an ambulance or something."
     A cab showed up shortly and he received a call on his cell from the local O.P.P. who very politely explained the 911 system. Apparently, whether or not we pay our taxes, our emergency operator is not available for public transportation.
     But, the best story I have heard this holiday season is the shit story. The moral of this story is - Please tip your housekeeper. My niece, Candoo, works at a local Inn. As any accommodation housekeeper will tell you, people are real pigs when they don't have to clean up their own mess. She was called in to work early one morning only to be sent to a room with a plugged toilet. One of the guests had taken a big shit that wouldn't flush and contacted front desk to take care of the situation. Now, in the same situation, there is no way in hell I would call a stranger to come to my room and chop up or plunger my excrement. I would sooner scoop it out of the bowl with the coffee pot and toss it out the window than deal with that humiliation. But, these people (and many others, I hear) just hung out on their bed, watching tv while their housekeeper pulled her uniform up over her nose and went to work.
     Not to be outdone, Ryan told about a relative of his who was in Zellers when he got a case of the runs. He had his pants halfway down his ass when he ran into the publlic bathroom only to find every stall in use. So, he popped a squat in the sink. When one of the men from the stall came out, he was already washing up. "Check out THAT mess," he said nonchalantly, gesturing to his loose stool in the sink while he walked out the door.
     The best thing about family is taking their money and starting fights. If you want to do both, you should play "Pass the Ace". Simplest card game ever. Each player needs 4 quarters to play. One quarter goes into the pot to start the game. Dealers take turns clockwise. Each dealer gives everyone a card face down and puts the remaining deck in front of him/her. The person on his/her left choose whether to pass their card to the left or keep their card. Aces are the lowest card and Queens are the highest. You can't refuse to take the card unless you have a King. If you have a King and someone tries to trade cardes with you, you should obnoxiously flip it over and yell "BAM!" because it basically means they are screwed. If the low card is passed around back to the dealer, the dealer may cut the deck to try to get a higher card. Once this is complete, everyone reveals their cards and the lowest card pays a quarter. If the lowest card pairs up with another player's card, they are safe and cannot be the loser. That means the second from lowest card holder has to pay a quarter. Once you lose all of your quarters, you have your honour. If you lose your honour, you are out of the game. By process of elimination, the winner is the last person to win a hand. That person gets the pot with all the quarters.
     Let me tell you; It doesn't matter if you love your husband or your sister or your brother-in-law. When you play this game and you sit beside any of these people, you will call them really awful names, try to start a fight, punch them, throw things at them and mabe even try to set them on fire with your cigarette. I've seen it happen. Merry Christmas!

Humpday with The Fockers

    

I've always liked Ben Stiller and the rest of the Focker gang. The Focker movies like to push the envelope a bit for what is acceptable in family relationships and I think that makes for good comedy. I was looking forward to the third installment of the series. It's an all star cast for sure, but I think I just wasn't in the mood tonight.
     Fortunately, I didn't have to pay for my ticket. I had 1000 Scene points - Woot Woot! I don't keep track of my points so it's always a surprise when I get the online option to redeem for a free movie. It was just like Christmas!
    It was just like Christmas in Belleville, too. Traffic was bad, the parking lots were full and everybody decided tonight was a good night to go to the movies. Including my daughter, who was going to see Yogi Bear in 3D. Lame. I didn't think anybody watched Yogi Bear. He's just a cartoon version of Norton from the Honeymooners and his original audience would be almost 50.
     I got a Yogi Bear kids combo with a Boo-Boo Bear straw and a relatively good aisle seat with two empty seats beside me. This leaves room for me to exit and re-enter quickly because I piss two cups for every ounce of Coke I drink. It also keeps a comfortable distance between myself and any chair-hogging, mouth-breather who I don't want to sit directly beside. Unfortunately, the movie gods are angry with me for some reason. Just before the movie started, a cute little couple had to take up the two empty seats beside me. I scowled to myself, "Bitch better stay on her own side of the divider." I needn't have worried. She stayed snuggled up to her mouth-breathing prince charming and didn't bother me one bit. Then, as the movie was starting, another asshat drags himself up the stairs beside me talking to himself about how he can't find his wife. The moron kicks me as he picks his way down to the other end of my row, only to find that his wife is in the row one step down.
     Normally, I would find this hysterical, have a good chuckle, and enjoy the rest of my night. But, I have my period, so it wouldn't matter if Lady Gaga had shown up with free popcorn and dildos for everyone... I'd have still been ugly.
     Back to the movie. In short, it was lazy. The same lines and jokes from the first two movies were recycled in the third. I liked the intensity of the moment between the men when Jack (DeNiro) calls Greg (Stiller) the "Godfocker". I also like their fight scene at the end of the movie. The best character for me (aside from Arfur the bearded dragon... so cute :P) was Jessica Alba as Andi Garcia. I wanted to slap her and be her best friend at the same time. And, she does this fabulous star fish dive in a lacy bra and panties that is really fun and would have been epic in 3D.
     Now, my next statement is totally the hormones talking. Please don't hold it against me. But, those kids - the Little Fockers - they are two of the most un-cute kids I have ever seen in a movie. I can feel my karma going into the red. It's a terrible thing to say, but I've got a picture of them beside me in the ad from this issue of Cineplex Magazine and it's all I can think of when I look at them.
     The other thing that distracted me about the movie was the weird way they handled the character of Bernie Focker (Dustin Hoffman). It didn't make any sense that he spent the whole movie in Seville, Spain, taking Flamenco dancing lessons until he shows up at the twins' birthday party. Turns out, Hoffman couldn't reach an agreement with the studios about his role until the movie was already being made. So, they had to kind of add him in as an afterthought. It wasn't subtle.
     I went to East Side Mario's with Alex and Devon after the movies. ESM in Belleville is notorious for having the slowest service ever, so I don't go there very often. Brooke was our server and she was like lightning! We asked for Pepsi and waters to drink and she was back so fast, I thought she must have taken full glasses off of someone else's table. She couldn't have possibly filled them and served them in the time she was gone. Same thing with my cheese capeletti takeout; one minute she was taking my plate and then she was back with my doggy bag. I think she had a twin and she was totally messing with me.

Yule Shoot Your Eye Out

     Alright. Here's where we get to the kooky part that I mentioned when I started this blog. Let's get it out of the way already.... deep breath...

I'm a witch.

     Take a few minutes to compose yourself. I must say I warned you. And, if it makes you feel any better about continuing to read, I'm a little embarassed of the label. I'm not a flag-waving, cone-hat-wearing, broom-riding, wart-faced witch. I don't go around giving people the evil eye. I can't clean my house by twitching my nose and I can't even get a parking spot by crossing my fingers (although I have tried this. lol)
     On the other hand, I do collect weird objects and herbs, I like to think I have some influence on the course of events in my life, and I believe my daily rituals (including the food I eat, how I treat people and even my sex life) directly affect the outcome of my future. That's not such a hard pill to swalow, is it? I also have a BIG sense of entitlement and a bit of a superiority complex... but I'm working on that.
     If you're still with me, I would like to share how I spent a very rare and sacred evening. As you may know, last night was a lunar eclipse. However, a lunar eclipse hasn't happened at Winter Solstice (the first day of winter) since 1638... and it won't happen again while I am casting spells. So, it was an auspicious night for creating a talisman and for other spell work.
     My biggest obstacle for traditional witchcraft at the solstices is staying up to witness the birth (or death) of the sun. The birth happens on the first day of winter (when the days start to get longer) and the death happens on the first day of summer (when the days get shorter). My job on these nights is to stay up and (figuratively) make sure this happens. But, I'm getting too old for these late nights, so I gotta keep busy. Facebook helps. I played a few games of Mahjong and watched my son play Back Ops a bit. He has no trouble staying up all night - he stays up all nght every night playing video games. He tends to be more Buddhist in his beliefs, though, and he could have cared less about a lunar ecipse.
     In between computer games and cleaning house, I made macaroni and cheese, baked beans, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies and banana bread. I ran out of chocolate chips and milk so I had to take a 1 a.m. trip to Sobeys for more supplies. When I got back, I cracked open a couple of Asian beers (Tsing Tao... yummy) and continued waiting for the eclipse. Austin (my son) acted as DJ and played all kinds of urban music for me. He focused on pwning noobs and I tried to get my ass to move like the girls in the T-Pain videos. If you could have seen me, trying to perfect my "pop, lock and drop" in the reflection of my wall stove, you would have pissed your pants. I also like to do that move that Rihanna does in her video for "Only Girl in the World" - she puts her arms out and spins around and around singing, "Want you to make me feel like I'm the only girl in the world. Like I'm the only one that you'll ever love. Like I'm the only one who knows your heart." I didn't even knock anything over.


    
     The moon was obscured by cloud cover, but I did manage to watch it intermittently slip behind the shadow of the earth between 1:30 a..m. and 2:30 a.m. Basically, it just looked like the moon was full and then half full. By the time it was covered, the clouds made it impossible to see anymore. And, this is when I decided to get to work.
    I needed a lasting memento of the occasion to help with spells. For me, Yule is a time for letting go of the past and focusing on the future, making a fresh start. It is also a time of peace, the kind that you feel on a crisp, winter night when the snow is covering everything and it's so still. These are the things you have to think about while you do your work. It's like zoning out. No more checking out your Nicki Minaj butt in the mirror.

     Without any real plan, I grabbed my air-drying modeling clay, a 2010 quarter with a caribou on it and a razor blade. I wrapped the quarter in a bit of clay and shaped it into a triangle (like a Christmas tree) with the three sides representing the maiden, mother, and crone. I carved a picture of holly on one side with the razor blade and made a hole in the top in case I ever decide to wear it around my neck. After a bit of research, I was ready to meet the sun. It was 4 a.m. and I couldn't see the moon for all the clouds. I let my all-night candle burn while I read books until I could see the first light of day... and then I passed out.

     Up and at 'em around 10 a.m. I made zucchini and cheddar fritters for breakfast, grabbed a handful of chocolate covered peanuts for good measure and began my Winter blessing. I adapted the following from a Hindu blessing I found in one of my books of curses and maledictions.

     With my talisman in my left hand, walking clockwise from my front door to all the rooms of my house, I repeated the following:

I banish misfortune and malignity

All blessings to my family.

I chase away danger.

Let the spirit take away stinginess from the hands and feet.

Grant me the bounties of good luck.

The spirit makes me happy.

Any sign of sickness in myself and my family

I drive away and destroy with my speech

May the spirit bless us.

Pain, jealousy, fear and criticism

I drive away from us.

The spirit brings money, health, friendship and love to us.

    I have to repeat that prayer every day for the next 21 days. It will work for me and I am sending out all the same blessings to you and your family on this very beautiful solstice day.

The Perfect Trip. The Perfect Trap

     I am a big fan of movies. I don't know when it started; it's only been in the last couple of years. I think it started with the popcorn. Rod and I went to a movie one night and he noticed me shoveling handful after handful into my mouth, like I hadn't had a meal for weeks and someone might take away my large bag with Becel any minute. I don't know what it is about movie theater popcorn, but my mouth just isn't big enough to hold as much as I want to stuff in.
     It's been a while since there was a movie worth seeing at the theatre... how long has Harry Potter 7 been out? lol. I kind of want to see Burlesque and I kind of want to see Tangled, but I haven't had a Tuesday night free lately to go on cheap night. I definitely wanted to see The Tourist, which came out last Friday. On Thursday, I took Rod on a date that cost me about $30. Two tickets = $20.50 and large popcorn with large Coke = $11 and change. I ordered the Combo 2 that comes with 2 drinks, 1 popcorn and some chocolate. But, the crazy bitch told me the M&M pretzels aren't included in that deal. WTF? Has the price of pretzels skyrocketed so that they cannot be in the same league with regular M&Ms? It's alright, though. Saved me about $5 and 1000 calories.
      I really enjoyed the movie. First of all, I'm a fan of Johhny Depp and all of his Tim Burton collaborations. Also a big fan of Angelina Jolie, who is pretty much my alter ego (with a slightly better body and a lot more money).
     It wasn't what I expected though. It had a lot less spy movie action and Hollywood explosions. Instead, it reminded me of an old black and white movie; something that might have starred Bogart and Bacall. And, I really love old black and white movies. There's something about the cinematography that takes nothing for granted. Every door handle, every pregnant pause, the way Depp holds his fake cigarette, the little peek of skin on Angelina's upper thigh when she unzips her dress from the side - all of these things get as much screen time (or more) as the boat chase through Venice and the bullets through the plate glass.
     It got me thinking, "This has to be a remake." And, sure enough, it is. But, the original was only done in 2005 - a French film called Anthony Zimmer. So, I looked up the director. I figured he must be old. Not so. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, best known for his Oscar winning film, The Lives of Others, is the same age as I am! In fact, he was born 21 days before me in Germany. And, he has a daughter named, Alexis, just like I do. That's where the similarities end, I'm afraid. He went on to do great things in countries all over the world while I sit in front of a laptop, my dishes soaking in the sink and I can't even grow lettuce.
     I totally called the outcome of the movie though. Couldn't figure out the "how" of the plot, but definitely picked up the "who". Rod didn't think there was any chemistry between Depp and Jolie, and I think I might agree. She's just way out of anyone's league. Anyway, if you're a fan of Depp, Jolie, old Hollywood romance and classy European accents, you will like this movie.

Christmas Parties and the people that love them

     To continue from last time, my big, fat, Greek Christmas Party was a yuletide success. I was decked out like Christmas halls (fa la la la la), I had my secret Santa gift wrapped and I had my bottle of Costalunga Barbera D'Asti. It was a perfect winter night with some snow on the ground. Not too cold.
     When I arrived, Francine was making her fresh bruschetta and trying to set the table. I couldn't wait for everyone else to get there, so when she wasn't looking, I sampled some of the spanakopita, dolmades and olives. She caught me stealing a cookie, but if she saw me swipe anything else she kept quiet about it.

     We started the night with some music a la Mark the Barber. Mark cuts hair in the shop next to my work by day and plays guitar for a 50s and 60s band by night. He had set up a couple of microphones and a guitar with his amplifier in a corner beside our Christmas tree. As everyone was arriving, I was standing too close to Mark and he handed me the mic. I knew some of the chorus to the songs he was playing. The rest of the time I just did some back up dances or sang "shoop shoop". I think I did really well on "Stand By Me" and I would have got "Unchained Melody" just perfect, except Mark threw me off with a wrong verse. I really enjoyed "Sweet Caroline", but I couldn't get my co-workers to do the damn "Ba ba ba"... You know that part. Sing along with me now:

"Sweet Caroline... BA BA BA! Good times never seemed so good!"

Oh, you all suck! You gotta sing it LOUD! Neil Diamond rocks. Those sonsobitches ruined it for me by not playing along. Props to Nino for trying.
     Francine and I did a duet of "doo wahs" for some song I had never heard before, so I ruined that one. Then, she did quite a few numbers of her own (caesar in hand), including "Teenager in Love".

     The meal was amazing. Greek Salad with pounds of feta cheese and Francine's own dressing to start. Everyone had Pastitsio for a entree... except for me. I'm special so Francine made me a huge plate of Eggplant Parmesan with fresh tomato sauce (with wine). I never did open my bottle of Costalunga. I had a couple of small glasses of French Cross boxed wine, which is not too bad. Don't believe the hype. You can get good wine with a screw top cap or out of a box.
     I played Santa and delivered all the secret Santa gifts after dinner. Fred got some porn from Nancy. Whitey and Greg got video games. Mike and Nancy got chocolate and nuts. Amanda used Mike's tissue paper to stuff her bra, so it was a gift that kept on giving. Francine got some cute ceramic snowmen from Lisa. Nino got aromatherapy car fresheners from Elisha. Elisha got a big bag of bath products from Mike (but we all know Francine did the shopping). Kimmy got bath stuff, too. I got a new Robin Hood cookbook from Francine. I have Robin Hood by the bag (and I won't let him go.) Addy got Bailey's, Rusty got a 12-pack of Blue and Amanda and Heather both got bottles of Yellow Tail. I got Jonathan a case of Coke and some Old Spice. No. Don't even try to call me cheap! It's what he likes!
     Such a fun night. It was just like a Mediterranean/Quebecois version of the party at Mr. Fezziwig's house in Charles Dicken's A Christmas Carol. Like Scrooge said, “(Francine) has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil…The happiness (she) gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.”
     We ended it with some Galaktoboureko and Googaloo (Greek desserts). We were all having fun with baby Mykael and then someone (who had too much to drink) decided to compare the boss's ass to the width of the sidewalk. That's about when you know it's time to go home.

     Monday night at the Waring House was much less eventful. It was minus 20 with the windchill. Rod and I dressed for dinner at 6:30, arrived at 7, stood in the buffet lineup for 20 minutes, ate some dinner, drank some shitty local wine and left at 8:30. Norah always decorates so beautifully for the holidays and nothing is left untouched by her Christmas spirit. It's just that there are so many staff at the Waring House, the Claramount and the Picton Harbour Inn; it's hard to have a nice, intimate Christmas gathering. I did enjoy chatting with Sharon (who makes me jealous because she's the only person I know with a busier social life and, therefore, more fun than me... plus she has a hot tub) about snowmobiling and Ang (who makes me soooo jealous with her long, blond hair and her Victoria's Secret body) made me LMAO. Wish that I had known about Louis' after party. Just as well, 'cos I had to work at 7:30 the next morning.

My Big, Fat, Greek Christmas Party

     The shirt was a hit! Well, not just the shirt... The whole party was great. But, I'll tell ya, it's very expensive and very confusing being a woman. You would think this would come as no surprise to me since I am 37.
     For example - shopping for clothes is a requirement EVERY time you have a special function! I've been a bridesmaid a few times and, like Katherine Heigl, I've got a couple of dresses left over. Only worn once. Also, I've attended a Baptism, a couple of weddings, a couple of live shows, some staff parties and (unfortunately) a couple of funerals. Every time, I had to buy a new outfit or, at least, part of an outfit. I was so perplexed over which shirt to wear to my staff Christmas party that I consulted the masses via social networking.
     So, my next dilemma was makeup. I have been reading the Cosmo and the Chatelaine lately and I have come to find out makeup can do a lot for a girl. It makes you look old if you're young, young if you're old, awake if your tired, dry if you're shiny, and all things in between. What I didn't know when I went shopping for it yesterday is how expensive it is! I spent $50 on makeup at Walmart and it took over an hour to decide what to get.
     Thankfully, the cosmetic industry tried to make it easy for me. Yeah, right. I want one company, whether it's Covergirl, Revlon, Almay or Rimmell to just KISS it. Keep It Simple Stupid. If I have really pale skin, brown hair and blue eyes, and I want thicker-looking eyelashes and natural-looking lips, I should buy product A, B and C with products D and E. Too simple.
     There's powder and matte and cream and even roll-on foundation. Some of it has minerals, some is age-erasing and some is hydrating. I don't know if it all does the same thing, but I bought some powder that came with a brush.
     When I was a young girl, I bought one colour of eyeshadow (usually blue) and I put it on my eyelid... only punks and sluts spread it up to their eyebrows. (Those weren't my labels. Blame my generation). Twenty years later, I need an art degree and a surgeon's hand to apply eyeshadow! And, I get three or four different colours based on my eye colour.
     Then there's the lips. OMG! It is obvious from the selection what women want from their lipsticks: last all day or longer, make lips plumper, make them conditioned (whatever that means) and glossy. You can get shiny, supershiny or solar powered. I'm sure if you applied some types of gloss, you would be visible as a bright light from a satellite in outer space. But, how on earth would you pick out the right shade? There are literally thousands of shades of lipsticks and I do NOT have an eye for colour. I read in the Chatelaine that nudes were popular this season, so I took their advice. Which is silly, because in that case I shouldn't wear any lipstick at all. :S
     I have mascara and eyeliner. It's the only thing I truly know how to buy and apply by myself. I don't worry about what my mascara can "do", or whether I want my eyelashes full, long or sharp like stiletto heels. I do not believe mascara will make my eyes more blue or make my eyelashes longer and I don't want any other colour than black. I don't care what's in fashion.
     I thought I was good to go until I got everything out of the packages in front of my vanity mirror. Powder first, right? Well, how do I get the powder from the jar ont my little brush? I tried shaking it out of the little holes like a salt shaker on to the brush, but that seemed time consuming. So, I poured some out on the counter and rubbed the brush into it. Unfortunately, that brush can hold a lot of powder. I was pretty sparkly from all those minerals on my face.
     Next, I followed the step by step instructions on the back of my L'Oreal eyeshadow kit for blue eyes. The brown goes all over, the beige goes just under the eyebrow, the light blue goes in that crease above your eyeball and the dark blue goes along the top edge of the eyelashes. Easy peasy (Easy breezy is Covergirl, not L'Oreal)!That went better than I expected. I followed with my regular mascara and eyeliner routine.
     For the lips, I got the Covergirl Outlast All Day Lipcolor in Nude because Chatelaine told me to. lol. I like it. The top coat smells nice.
     I won't go in to bra shopping because a) I had that covered for this event and b) I don't have enough time to complain about bras today. Suffice it to say, the only woman who can wear a DDD at La Senza is a woman with an unmerited superiority complex. My friend, Helen, says those bras are made in China.
     I did need to get a Spanx (in more ways than one ;) ) No time for that. lol. A Spanx is what is referred to as "slimming intimates" or "body shapers". They involve squeezing your fat ass into really tight tensor bandages so your rolls are less prone to fall out of your jeans. Ricki's had one for $35, Sears had one for $25 and Walmart had one for $13. Winner! I have seriously got to take a picture of myself in this ridiculous contraption. You will LYAO! It works alright, but somewhere after dinner I went to the bathroom and pulled the thighs too high so that the rubbery elastic was digging into my legs. I think I cut off the circulation for a while there. I wonder if those things could cause a blood clot?

Aaaallez, allez, allez, allez!

     Last night was the Ultimate Fighting Championship (UFC) 124 event at the Bell Centre in Montreal. I wish I could have been there, but I had to watch it at my nephew's house and that's the next best thing 'cos he caters. lol.
     I didn't show up until about 11:30 p.m. Irving Berlin's White Christmas was on AMC and I can't get enough of Danny Kaye and Vera Ellen. Have you SEEN her waist in that movie? I used to have a waist like that :( It was a bit of a mental struggle going from musicals in Vermont to mixed martial arts in Quebec though. I arrived just in time for Struve vs. McCorkle.
     My nephew likes to make fun of me because my first question on arrival is always, "Who's playing?" I realize they are not "playing", but it's like any other sport to me. I don't ask "Who's hockeying?" or "Who's footballing?" To ask, "Who's fighting?" implies a certain level of animosity between the contenders that I prefer not to acknowledge.
     I like Stefan Struve. He's a 6'11" little boy and when he gets in the ring he likes to make that monkey face so popular among the mixed martial artists. That's where they've got their big mouth guard over their teeth then they stretch their mouth really wide and scream just like a monkey in the zoo. EE EE EE AA AA AA AA! He's only 22 and he's from the Netherlands. He was playing "Big Sexy" Sean McCorkle. I don't think he's big and sexy. I think he's a little arrogant guy from Indianapolis. "Little" may be incorrect. He's 6'7". I was going for Struve (obviously) despite the fact that the guys (my hubby, nephew Scooter and nephew Ryan) were going with the experience and well-rounded skills of the 34 year old.
     Things were going pretty well for McCorkle, who got Struve in a painful-looking Kimura pretty early in the first round. Even when he squirms out of the Kimura, Struve is stuck underneath McCorkle and "underneath" is just not where you want to be in mixed martial arts. However, in one quick flip, Struve gets on top and starts smashing McCorkle in the face. There were too many unanswered blows while McCorkle just covered his head so the ref called the fight.
     If you don't watch UFC and that last paragraph sounded too graphic for you, you may be wondering how a mild-mannered (lol), almost-middle-aged woman, who likes drinking wine and baking cookies could enjoy such a violent display. Admittedly, there are times when I have to cover my eyes. But, as a general rule, I'm all for a good, clean fight. I've even had my share of fisticuffs back in the day. Like that time my sister likes to remind me of every once in a while, where I punched a guy in the stomach for calling her... something. Neither of us can remember what he said to her exactly, but it was bad and he deserved a quick blow to the diaphragm. Better than a swift quick to the nuts, right?
     Just before the main event, they showed a recap of an earlier lightweight fight between Toronto-native Mark Bocek and that guy who looks like the dark-haired hick from Bugs Bunny's Hillbilly Hare. You remember that episode! The one where Bugs Bunny leads the two country cousins in a square dance?

Now into the brook and fish for a trout. Dive right in and splash about
Trout, trout, pretty little trout. One more splash and come right out

     That's exactly what this fight reminded me of. Bocek is a redhead just like Punkinhead and Dustin Hazelett is just like Curt. And this is how it went:

Grab a fence post, hold it tight,
        Womp your partner with all your might.
        Hit him in the shin, hit him in the head,
        Hit him again, the critter ain't dead.
        Wop him low and wop him high,
        Stick your finger in his eye.
        Pretty little rhythm, pretty little sound,
        Bang your heads against the ground.

     I'm normally a Hazelett fan, but in this case I had to go for the home team. Bocek won.
     The last fight of the night, the main event, was my favourite little Quebecois with a Japanese soul, Georges St. Pierre, against loud-mouthed, American villain Josh Koschek. This fight had so much hype it wasn't funny.  I was genuinely afraid for Kos' life since he had pissed off so many people. He talked shit about the Habs, he said he didn't like GSP because he was French.... he was just obnoxious. You could barely hear the announcer over the booing crowd when Koscheck walked into the ring.
     I was very nervous. The match went five rounds of five minutes each and GSP just kept jabbing Kos in the right eye and kicking his left leg. Kos barely got a strike in. They almost called the fight because his eye was swollen shut after the first two rounds. It was a decision fight and, in the end, the two of them couldn't say enough good things about each other. I like a happy ending.

Cookie, Cookie, Cookie starts with "C"

     Last night was the Cookie Exchange at Janet's house and I missed it :( Had to work... and that would have been fine! Except there's always that oooone last group of people who want to have dinner 10 minutes before closing time. Don't get me wrong - they were nice people and good tippers. I am more irritated with Murphy's Law and how it affects my social life.

     Moving on. I picked up my box of 12 different cookies from Janet and Mak at 9:05 p.m. (having missed the cookie party guests by about 5 minutes! Urgh!) and I would like to share with you my favourites...
     Clockwise from the right (and starting with the block o' fudge), we have a Melissa's fudge, Jenna's Peanut Butter Clusters, Heather's Hello Dollys, Jam Thumbprints, Danielle's Cookie Dough Truffles, Amazing Almond Bars, Janet's Marble Mocha Fudge, Emma's Butterfinger Cookies, Raisin Drop Cookies, Mars Bar Squares, and Kelly's Chocolate Macaroons.
     So, I have tried a bite of all of these, but you will notice there are only 11 samples in the photo. That is because the 12th cookie was my own Chocolate Peppermint Sandwiches (seen in the photo below with my handsome man!) and lucky number 13 was sooooo good that I ate them all already! I believe it's Jennifer who makes the Snowball Shortbreads. Anyway, I remembered them from last year and ate all six of them as soon as I got home last night.

Snowball Shortbreads
1/2 cup cornstarch
1/2 cup icing sugar
1 cup flour
3/4 cup butter
Mix dry ingredients. Add butter. Mix. Chill. Roll into 1 tsp balls and bake at 300 F until bottoms are golden. Roll in icing sugar while warm.

     They are soooo simple and so yummy! Definitely my fave Holiday cookie.
     In second place are Jenna's Peanut Butter Clusters. Now, Jenna is a VERY talented photographer, a loving mom, and a successful business woman. I would ask her to marry me if I were a man. Hell, I'd ask her to marry me if I wasn't married already. However, she's no Martha Stewart and I don't believe she will be offended by that statement. So, I was really surprised when I cautiously took a tiny bite of these little brown globules and proceeded to pop the rest of the crunchy, chewy, chocolatey morsel into my mouth!
     I knew Janet helped her "sista", Jenna, with the Clusters and I knew they were no-bake and quick. Poor Janet was cookie cuckoo by party time and Jenna is particularly busy this week, as well. So, there's no excuses for any of you not to try making these.

Peanut Butter Clusters
2 cups peanut butter chips
1 cup milk chocolate chips
1 1/2 cups roasted peanuts
1 cup crushed potato chips (?)
Melt chips in amicrowave-safe bowl. Stir until smooth. Add peanuts and chips. Drop by tablespoonfuls on waxed paper. Refrigerate until firm.

     I'm sure you could play around with this recipe, too. I might substitute dried cranberries or pretzel pieces for the peanuts and potato chips. Potato chips? Really? I would not have guessed that.
     My Chocolate Peppermint Sandwiches are part of the Chatelaine collection of Christmas Cookies for 2010 and you can find the recipe at http://food.chatelaine.com/Recipes/View/Chocolate-peppermint-sandwiches. I have included a picture of Rodney pretending to eat one with a very happy face. Don't let the smile fool you... He is still angry that I have not made any oatmeal chocolate chip cookies this season :P

Yuletide Fashion

     I had an hour to kill at the mall today while Rodney was out pounding the pavement. I intended to shop for some work shirts because I need new white blouses and some red or green polos for the holiday season. The Old Navy weekly special is bogo sweaters, but I have enough knits. I tried on a about 5 different white dress shirts, but the women's styles were not dressy enough for the dining room where I work and the men's styles all flattened my boobs to look like beaver tails.
     Did I mention I HATE shopping? Anyway, I thought I'd take a quick boo in to Ricki's for something I can wear to the staff holiday parties at my two paying jobs. Both will be fairly casual, so jeans are acceptable. I still wanted a little flare on top - my green hoodie will just SCREAM "Grinch".
     Everything in the store was 30 % off (yahoo!). I picked out about 7 items in blue, red, purple and black and the following is what I settled on.

     Number one is a clingy black knit with short sleeves and a peekaboo hole in the middle of my chest. There is about an inch of cleavage (that you can't really see in the photo) plus my adorable little beauty mark, visible through the keyhole. I like this one because the black takes a couple of pounds off and I might get all skanky and do a fake tattoo under the hole. Or, I might do something classy and have a nice, seasonal bauble on a chain there. More than likely, I'll go skanky. I got this top for $14.

     Number two is a red, polyester/spandex v-neck with short sleeves. It's hangs nicely and is gathered at the sides so it hides alot of flaws. In the photo, it looks like I have a big tummy roll, which I do, but I am sucking in my gut for the photos (duh) so that is actually just the way the material hangs. I like that it hides my hips a bit more. This one is Rodney's favourite and it cost $20.

     Number 3 is pink and, if you know me at all, you will know pink is my least favourite colour. I also don't like sleeveless tops because I feel my arms are too fat. They look like overstuffed sausages, in my opinion. However, this one is actually my favourite of the three so far. It is also a polyester/spandex blend with black rose print. I like that it drapes over my tummy and hips, but fits nice in the chest. This was the most expensive and it cost $27. The clerk said it was fresh on the rack this afternoon and I was the first to buy one.
     So, which one is your favourite? More importantly, which one should I wear to the Christmas party(s)? Please vote on the poll BELOW.

Colouring Your World

     Mondays suck as a general rule. Best thing to do is drive to Peterborough and by some discount Crayola products for Christmas. Bring your cash. It's shocking how much money you can spend in art supplies.

     Janet picked me up around 9ish with Miss Mary Mak in the back seat and we headed to Timmy's for coffee. The weather was good and traffic was clear, so we arrived at Gerri's Arts & Crafts Warehouse on Davis Road well before noon.
     I had a list of things to get for my friend, Kimmy, for Christmas gifts - including 92 pencil crayons, thick and thin markers, 64 crayons and finger paints. I got all of those things for $26.55. The same items at ToysRUs would be $56.23 plus tax, so I saved more than 50%.
     I bought myself a sandwich baggie full of extra thick crayons for those goddamn kids who come in to the restaurant and their parents let them do everything with the crayons OTHER than colour with them. Cost me six bucks and it will be well worth it. Let's see the little bastards chew through one of THESE crayons. <sigh> I guess that means the parents will just have to let them slobber on all the sugar packets. Urgh! Has anyone ever thought of bringing some small toys for their children to play with at the restaurant?
     I also bought a pack of window writers for $6 and I think I will really enjoy them, as soon as I learn how to write G.F.Y. backwards on the inside of my car's rear window.
     Prior to checkout, I heard Janet laughing hysterically from the middle aisle. On further investigation, I discovered she had picked out a pack of "multicultural markers" with 8 shades of skin tones. Really? Is it necessary for our children to have eight skin colours to choose from? I'm pretty sure my earliest family portraits were done with pink (because that's what colour my mom told me we were) while my daughter always preferred to make mommy and daddy yellow. My question is, how do they describe these eight colours? Jamaican black? East Indian brown? WASPy white? Mocha Choca Lotta (ya ya)? Well, I had to check this out and, unfortunately, they are very boring names such as beige, golden beige, tan, tawny, bronze, terra cotta, mahogany and sienna. I don't know who's who. You'll have to buy a pack and figure it out for yourself.
     There were markers and finger paints that only show up on special paper, colouring books that can wipe off and be coloured again and again, and glow in the dark crafts. Other than Crayola stuff, Gerri's also has Sandylion stickers, some educational posters (including one with all the Canadian Prime Ministers! Yay!) and all the Dixon pencils, pens, erasers, highlighters and glue you can sniff.
     I enjoyed myself. I would have liked to go to the Indian River Reptile Farm up the road, but Janet was not on board with me there. Instead, we used the GD GPS to find a Harvey's. I tried to complete the Harvey's survey on my cell phone to win $500 worth of veggie burgers, but I got half way through and ran out of space  to press more numbers. After 4 minutes of press 1 for "very dissatisfied" and press 5 for "very satisfied" I had to start using the backspace to re-write. I accidentally pressed the disconnect on the last question instead of the backspace, so I lost my chance :(
    

First Christmas Party of the Season

     Just so you don't think I'm slacking from my blog duties, I will briefly outline my first Christmas party of 2010. While I was at work last night, my husband came in and asked me if I wanted to go to the Mayhew Christmas Party.
     HELLS YEAH I wanna go to the Mayhew Christmas Party! Every time the Mayhews have a party, it is a big deal. People of all ages get in their 4x4s, their ATVs, their minivans and park all over the lawn to gather in and around the garage.
     The best event I've ever attended there was a "burn party" where everyone brings something to light on fire. There were dining room tables, lots of chairs, pallets, brush, building material, etc. Every once in a while, we threw on some motor oil or diesel fuel for effect. I was so hammered by the end of the night, I was dragging branches and pallets through the fire just to keep it going. The blaze singed the surrounding tree branches up to 50 feet high. I eventually passed out in the back of someone's truck.
     This summer, they hosted field races. Everyone brings a vehicle and races around the dirt field. I didn't get there until all the excitement was over, but I heard the drama was fantastic.
     Needless to say, I was excited to go to the Christmas party. So, I got home from work about quarter to nine, changed into my Old Navy jeans, my hoodie and my Ugg knockoffs (lol, please see previous post), threw on some mascara and eyeliner and ran out the door with my hubby,our nephew and his wife. There was nowhere to park. It was about -1 C with a thin crust of snow dotting the yard, so we drove up on the adjoining field with the rest of the vehicles. A large group of people were standing outside of the garage having a smoke. The rest were packed inside with the smoking hot wood stove. I stopped to talk to one person I haven't seen in about 15 years before squeezing through the door.
     The food was just starting to come out - roasted turkey, pulled pork, roast beef... the guests are mostly men who work in construction or other trades, so meat is the only real course. I nibbled on some nacho dip and imitation crab. There were cases and cases of Coors Light, cans of Bud Light everywhere, bottles of rye, jugs of rum, coolers full of ice. It was standing room only.
     Eventually, some of the women (I won't name names) started lighting up inside and this is okay with me. I'm pretty sure we've partied through the fog in previous years. But, there are others (Jody) who are adamantly opposed to second-hand smoke. This caused quite an uproar among the crowd, but it was all in good fun. Jody was not really going to throw anyone through the plate glass window if they didn't butt out. Hahaha.
     I quietly drank my bottle of Mommesin Beaujolais Nouveau in the corner beside the wood stove while trying to catch snippets of conversations which don't really interest me. In fact, I can't recall anything that I might have overheard, but I'm sure it was about snowmobiles, types of motors, the cost of gas and how much work sucks. I do remember Amy playing a really good version of Bad Company by Five Finger Death Punch from her iPod.
     My night was cut short by a phone call from my son, who wanted to come home from his friend's house. So, we called a cab around 11pm and headed home. A good start to the season overall.

Sherla Gets All "Cosmo"

     Don't let the headline fool ya. I strongly doubt I will ever be giving fashion advice. And, if you're taking fashion advice from me, you must really like your Old Navy jeans, Hogwarts sweatshirts and Ugg knockoffs. I'm an epic fashion fail.
     That's not why the ladies read Cosmo these days anyway. I started reading that rag when my daughter's friends came over with months and months of back issues. I learned from them that the funniest thing ever is to read the love advice out loud with a lisp or foreign accent in a room full of girls. For example, this month features "25 Insanely Hot Boob Moves" - which is insanely hilarious to read aloud no matter how it's done. It is even better if you can do your best Julia Childs imitation while saying, "If YOU are a B-cup or lahhhhhrger, use one haaaawnd to PUSH one breast UP towaaaard your MOUTH and let him waaaatch you LICK a NIP". Bahahahaha!
     Seriously, though. This is where the advice comes in. I mean, take Cosmo's titty advice if you want. But, if you would rather just do something fun with your significant other on a snowy afternoon, try cleaning his or her aura. It's very simple and totally hawt. It's kind of like a lazy massage and, although I am not a professional cleaner of human auras (I'm sure they are out there), I believe it involves removing negative energy from the area surrounding a person's body. Like sweeping cobwebs of stress and bullshit off your loved one.
     The best place to set up is on your living room floor or wherever you have the most floor space. Lay down the cushions from the couch or put out layers and layers of your best comforters, duvets, and sleeping bags. Make it nice and comfy even though you're on the floor.
     I like to light some candles - use tealights, votives, tapers... hell, use birthday candles if that's all you got. Uh-uh. Scratch that. Birthday candles burn too quickly and will ruin the mood. Light about 8 candles and set them in a circle around where you and he/she are going to be. If you have carpeting, put the candles on a plate. That way, if they fall over, nothing will catch fire. Safety first!
      Next, get the other person to lay face down on your comfy pile of cushions or blankets with their head relaxing on their forearms. They would probably like a pillow, too. By the way, lock the doors and turn off the cell phones! My dad came over once, called once, came over again and Rod's cell phone rang twice at this point. Aura cleaning should not be interrupted :)
     While standing or squatting over him or her, and beginning at the head, use your palms like little sand shovels or hand brooms to remove all the negative energy from the body. I've seen some people clean a person's aura without actually touching them and that probably works, but I like to start by gently running my hands from the forehead up over the back of the head and neck, over the shoulders and then away from the body. Next, with both hands, grab the wrists and sweep down the forearms and biceps over the shoulders and across the back then away from the body (both sides). Use long scraping motions from the shoulders down the back and off the bum. From the top of the hip, run your hands along the back of the thigh and down the calves as far as you can go. And, finally, bend the knee, resting the foot on your shoulder and pull your hands from the knee up to the ankle and down both sides of the foot and away (both sides).
     You can imagine collecting the bad energy in your hands as you move them along the body and then flicking the yucky stuff away from the body at the end of each sweep. It's the same thing I do to sweep crumbs off a table cloth at work. But, I'm more relaxed and Rod doesn't have crumbs.
     Flip him or her onto their back and start again from the top. You can do this fully clothed or naked. Either way, it will get the blood flowing and hopefully stir up some action. Because you can't just spend all your time working, cleaning and drinking wine with your friends. You've got to make time for the one you love, too.
     I'm sure you'll thank me for not including an illustrating photo with this post.

Christmas Cookies

I have been making the cookies from this month's issue of Chatelaine and I am (so far) really pleased with all the results. So, if you're looking for some new recipes for Christmas cookies, please see the link below. I have tried the Ginger Chocolate Chunk Cookies (which I replaced with M&Ms and ate myself), the Sticky Toffee Shortbread Bars (which I took to work), the Flourless Chocolate Mountains (Rodney and Cynthia's favourites), and the Raspberry Sugar-Cookie Hearts (that I made with Francine). Tomorrow, I will tackle the Hazelnut Lace cookies. Not planning on any Julie and Julia blogs right now, but I will definitely include the recipes for any particularly good ones.

Cheddar Sandwiches, Cake Pops and Shady Ladies

     I could not find my pants this morning. They were not in the landry hamper, not in the dryer, not on the floor of my bedroom, and certainly not folded on my shelf. My friend, Janet, was coming over in 10 minutes to take me out to lunch and I could not find my pants anywhere. I have 3 pairs of jeans that I wear regularly and I could only find the size 12s. If I was going to lunch with Janet, I would need the 14s, fo' sho'. Turns out they were on my daughter's bed. I must have got sidetracked by Facebook (which I would have opened on her computer) and left them there.
     With my comfy jeans and my grey suede boots, I was ready for Janet, who arrived in her oldladymobile. I prefer to call it a luxury vehicle, but it's true - The cops would probably not pull you over even if you squealed the tires, Janet.
     We drove all the way to Cherry Valley to have lunch at the Cherry Valley Restaurant, but they are closed on Mondays and Tuesdays. Urgh. We ended up going to Schroedter's on the corner of Highway 62 and County Road One. I'm sorry. It might not be called Schroedter's anymore, but that's what I always call it and I forgot to look at the sign. It's that market on the corner going to Belleville that has organic and gluten-free stuff. I go there for the cinnamon sugar donuts. Had no idea they served lunch.
     Walking into the dining room is like walking into my grandmother's kitchen :'( Almost brings a tear to my eye thinking about it. There are straight-backed wooden chairs around all the vinyl table cloth-topped tables (including a long one that seats six), antique-looking chandeliers on the ceiling, wooden floors and wooden shelves lined with 100s of jars of pickles and relish. I guess there was a bumper crop of cucumbers this year.
     You can have soup and homemade bread for $4.00 or soup and sandwich for $10.99. Normally , I would call that pricey for a soup and sandwich deal, but I was excited to try the homemade bread. There were six soups all lined up in crock pots beside the kitchen. I remember there was chili, turkey vegetable, beef vegetable and tomato vegetable. Lots of meat with vegetables. And lots of meat and cheese sandwiches. I ordered the only meatless options - tomato vegetable soup and one-year-old cheddar sandwich.
     Janet and I chatted about her family a bit because there is always excitement in her family. In fact, her sister, Jenna, was having a grand opening for her photography studio across the road. Already, we were making a day of our lunch. All the while, a group of friendly-looking gramma and grampa people were busy in the kitchen. Reminded me a little it of a Santa's Workshop or something.

     The soup was so yummy on a cold, wet, November day. Lots of pepper and chunks of tomatoes. I just finished licking the bowl when my sandwich arrived. HOLY SHIT. My cheddar sandwich was as thick as my coffee mug. The bread must have been made in an 8x8 bar pan! This was not a regular cheese sandwich. There were 3 or 4 slabs of white cheddar topped with half a head of lettuce and brick-sized slices of tomatoes. lol. I exaggerate a bit, but you can see from the photo that this was a sammy of epic proportions.

     I ate half and our server wrapped the rest in plastic. Afterward, we drove across the road to About Image Photography - in part to visit Jenna and support the grand opening at her new location, but mostly to try her cake pops. Apparently, there's a website called Bakerella started by a woman who took a cake decorating class and just went bake-crazy. I will put a link at the bottom of the page because this site is a gold mine of ideas and recipes, including one for cake pops. Now that I have tried them, I am hooked. Definitely one of my favourite things of the week.
     Janet is always a source for some of my favourite things. Which is why I couldn't turn down getting a picture taken of the two of us by Miss Jenna. In between photos of small children hopped up on cake pops, cupcakes and Kool-Aid, Jenna snapped a cute duo of us big kids. The place was a bit of a madhouse; Jenna is a portrait photographer in high demand and she was giving out free 5x7s for the grand opening. There were about 10 toddlers running around thousands of dollars worth of equipment between three or four carseats stuffed with wailing babies and Jenna was just running around with them, snapping the occasional pic between tap-dancing and catching helium-filled balloons.
     When I got home, my daughter was doing a mountain of laundry. She had found my third pair of jeans in the trunk of her car :S

Climbing the Walls on a Friday Night

     I was so frustrated today. I never get a Friday night off from work (but this is not the reason I was frustrated). Weekends are the busiest days for a server and, in this season, they are basically the ONLY days to work and make money. However, I was very happy to have a Friday off because my friends and family are aways doing something on Friday nights. Christy's house to play cards, Sheri wants to go out to dinner with the girls, band is playing at the local pub... every other Friday night EXCEPT tonight.

     Tonight, I was sitting in front of my Facebook page, trolling for excitement and feeling abandoned. My daughter had been bugging me since 2 p.m. to go to the climbing gym, but I was having a little pity party for myself and I kept shooting her down. It was quarter of seven when I finally relented. "What the hell... they're open to 10:30 p.m. and I'm not doing anything worthwhile here at home," I said.
     We left for Kingston at 7 p.m. and got to The Boiler Room climbing gym at just after 8 p.m. The 401 was pretty quiet and the radio was playing some really good tunes for my drive. It took a few minutes (17 to be exact >@) to sign in because four people arrived before us and expediency is not their forte at the BR. (No offense intended: This attitude was leftover from my pity party.)
     Every time I go to climb the walls, I forget how much I enjoy it. My daughter has to practically drag me kicking and screaming, but when I'm finally there it's such a rush. You have to take at least one other person with you to do the belaying (operating the safety ropes) while you climb. Whether you are using the handholds/footholds to climb to the ceiling (about 30 feet) or working the ropes for your partner, you are bound to feel the burn the next day. There's also a climbing cave, where you can hang upside down from the ceiling if you have the strength, and the 100 foot chimney climb for the over-achievers, like my daughter <beams>.

     She didn't do the chimney tonight, but she did spend a muscle-destroying 15-20 minutes trying to conquer a route with a sustained overhang. At one point she declared she was going to kill everyone in the (bleeping) room as she dangled 15 feet over my head, having lost her grip on the wall. This made me laugh hysterically. I could see the headlines - Girl Loses Mind Climbing the Walls, 7 Dead.

     I prefer the easiest climbs that I can quickly scale, touch the roof and rappel back down so I can remove my harness wedgie. We each climbed about 4 times and it took about an hour and a half. Now, I'm 5'4" and 189 pounds (on a good day), so that's enough of a workout for me. Cost me $25 for shoes, harness and access, which is about how much money I spend at the bar on a Friday night.

It's Blumen amazing!

Just doing a quick update before I go to work. urgh. :P

     So, Amanda (of Kickass Superhero fame), Jolene, and I went to Blumen Garden Bistro on Highway 49 just outside Picton to sample their Countylicious menu. What is Countylicious? Just about the greatest idea a restaurant has ever had! Every spring and fall, many of the... er, fancy shmancy restaurants in the County come up with some interesting meals using local, seasonal produce. Then, they give you an appetizer, entree and dessert for about $35 plus tax!
     Now, just to put this into perspective for you - let's say you're having dinner at Kelsey's. Nice place, and the food's good, but it ain't REAL food. It's just a couple steps up from McDonald's really. Don't get me wrong, I like a nice meal at Boston Pizza or Montana's or one of those other chain restaurants with all the neato shit on the walls. But, I know I'm not doing my body or my farmers any favours by eating there.
     Anyway, let's say you get the potato skins, some smothered chicken and a molten lava cake. Not only are you going to get diabetes immediately, it's going to set you back $8.99... plus $16.99... plus $6.49... that's about $32 altogether. With Countylicious, you can live like rich folks, eating fancy, homegrown food for the same price! It's one of my favourite times of the year, for sure.
     It's very nice in the Blumen Garden Bistro. Nice and warm on a brisk November night. Decor is simple and neutral; nothing funky. Sucks that they don't offer Bring Your Own Wine, because that would have saved me a bundle. Instead of my lovely $14 bottle of Mommessin Beaujolais Nouveau, we had to order a bottle of Rosehall Run Cabernet Franc for $27. Strong bouquet, smooth finish. There's just something about County wines that I don't like. Probably because you can't usually get one for less than 17 bucks and I'm a cheap bugger.
     The Countylicious menu includes three choices for each course and all three of us ordered the same appetizer and main - braised radicchio and pear salad with gorgonzola fritters, candied walnuts and honey drizzle to start, followed by herb-crusted mushroom, celeriac and leek confit tart with arugula, pear and pecorino Romano salad. Lots of salad, right? Unfortunately, that's what you get when you're a pescatarian ordering from a prix fixe menu. Some of my other options included oxtail soup, pork belly hash, veal cheeks and turkey legs. Blech. Hell, at least it's not Prairie Oysters.
     The appetizer was sooooo good. I find radicchio a little too bitter to truly enjoy it, but it did mix well with the sweet pears and salad dressing. The best part of this course, though, were the gorgonzola fritters. MMMM MMMM MMMM! I could have eaten a plate of those fritters. Poor Amanda was more interested in the candied walnuts and, because of her poor karma, she was the only one who didn't get any on her plate. Haha. I joke. There's nothing wrong with her karma. It's just weird she wanted them so bad and she didn't get any. I shared mine with her and she gave me one of her fritters, so her karma should improve :)
     The entree was basically a quiche that was very good. The crust wasn't flaky, but definitely light and crumbly. I really liked the lightly battered leek rings and potato crisps that were piled on top, however, there was a marked difference between our low pile of rings/chips compared with another table's rings/chips. Apparently, their dinner had been assembled by the chef while ours had been topped by a lackey :( I couldn't have eaten more than I had anyway. The only thing I didn't like was the size of the chunks of leek in my tart (as opposed to on my tart). Too much mushy leek in one spot. But, that was Amanda's favourite part, so "to each his own".
     Throughout dinner, we spoke of bowel movements, baby daddys, precocious children and drunk sex. If there was more inappropriate subject matter for our fancy bistro conversation, it might have involved Catholic priests and Jewish circumcisions. You can dress us up, but you can't really take us out.
     Finally, we each had a different dessert. Jolene got a steaming hot cup of fall fruit crumble and Amanda got the  apple cheesecake. I got the churros, which were very phallic, and if I'd had a couple of more glasses of wine I would have shared that information with the rest of the patrons.
     One thing I found really odd was that there was another Lightfoot in the room. The dishwasher, who was Amanda's mother, found the name on the reservations list and told me about it. Now, "Lightfoot" is not a common name in Prince Edward County and I was pretty sure if there was another one nearby, I would have to be related. Turns out, my dad's cousin's wife, Maureen, from Belleville was out enjoying Countylicious with two of her friends, as well, that night. It's a small (delicious) world.

Once Upon a Time...

       A few days ago, in a wet and windy land, there lived a wise woman named Anrol. She was a descendant of the Amish clan; short and strong like a bear with bright blue eyes and hair like short strips of bronze without the silver of her years. She had the power to bring the birds and the gift of a generous heart. She could also make awesome chocolate cookies, which is just what she was doing when she received a vision from far away to the West.
     The vision described a beautiful and kind princess who was being held prisoner by an evil sorcerer and his two ugly henchman far away to the North. Anrol knew well of this princess, who was a true woman for Christ and had spread charity and goodwill throughout the land. She was kind to all animals and children and was renowned for her potato soup. Though she was of royal blood, she was not ignorant of hard work and domestic skills.
     With this in mind, Anrol collected a few things and made plans to rescue the princess. She gathered her magic purse (that was always filled with gold), her magic mirror (that connected her with the spirit world) and wrapped herself in her best woolen cape. Then, she hopped on her golden Palomino and set off for the story teller's house.
     The story teller had risen early that morning. Although she was not gifted with the sight of the wise woman, she could tell that this would be an auspicious day. Aliehs, as she was called, was a child of the woolly-headed tribes and was forever forgetting where she was and what she was doing. So, getting ready for the day was proving somewhat difficult. She was just collecting one of her whatsits for her thingamajig when there came a knock at her crooked, little door.
     The wise woman, Anrol, quickly explained the situation to Aliehs, who was just pulling on her second  adoraboot made of thick, brown angora. Time was of the essence. Anrol reminded Aliehs to bring her magical memory saver and her enchanted script before mounting the Palomino and heading West. They still had to collect the healer and her little, pink-haired pixie.
     When they arrived, the healer was distraught to hear news of the princess. She, too, had heard of her generosity and her potato soup. In fact, she had spent many joyous hours at the castle before the princess had been captured. But, there was not enough room on the Palomino for Lyrehc and her pink-haired pixie, Eely. So, the story teller, who had learned some witchcraft in her travels, turned an eggplant into a special coach that would seat seven people comfortably.
     The coach traveled fast along the highway. Fast enough that they managed to help a stranded maiden in the city of Starbucks whose Roan horse had fallen ill along the road. With the help of the healer and the gentlemen of Caa, the fair maiden was able to make it safely home.
     Soon, the four women were heading North. The further they traveled, the more beautiful landscape they saw. Although the coming of winter had stripped the trees of their brilliant colours, the deep greens of the conifers shone like emeralds against the brilliant blue sky. The many lakes in the North were like dark, blue looking glasses. They longed to stop and appreciate the beauty of the land, but thoughts of the poor princess urged them ever onward.
     Although the land was beautiful, it was also filled with danger. The roads were treacherous and, eventually, the magic items of the South lost their power. The magic mirrors and enchanted script could not function between the rocky hills of the north.
     They continued for days (or about an hour) to the city of Bancroft where they prepared for the pending danger with the sorcerer and his evil henchmen. They traveled east towards McArthurs Mills and soon came to the inconspicuous wooden shack on a hillside where the princess was being imprisoned. The sorcerer himself was sitting on a wheeled throne just outside the shack. His two evil henchmen, dressed in green uniforms, were perched on their horses on either side. When they saw the eggplant coach, they knew there was trouble and the sorcerer scurried off his throne and escaped into a hole in the side of the hill. His henchmen followed quickly after him, but not before the four women saw them; their faces pulled tight against their skulls and their teeth bared like rabid raccoons. They wore masks over their big, beady eyes and they lit from their horses like crippled monkeys before disappearing into the hole in the hill.
     Anrol, Aliehs, Lyrehc and Eely raced into the shack, expecting to find the princess in shackles and poor health. However, they were surprised to find her doing dishes in a thin, cotton apron and singing gospel songs. Anrol was confused and panicked. Surely the princess was sick and required attention from the healer. The princess insisted she was fine and suggested that they go for lunch at a nearby inn.
     The princess was not only healthy and happy, she was also free to go as she pleased. The vision had been misleading. However, Lyrehc determined her blood sugar level was low and confirmed that food would be a good idea.
     They ate and drank at a dirty little inn at McArthurs Mills. The serving wench was grouchy, the potatoes had been cooked in dirty oil, there was no milk for the tea and not enough roast beast for everyone. But, it mattered little. The princess was elated to be breaking bread among friends.
She explained that she had decided to help the sorcerer and his henchmen many years ago and, although she missed her family and friends in the South, she felt that her god had called her to do his work in the North. It was true, she had lost some of her beauty after living among so much evil and hate. But, she had lost none of her enthusiasm and love for all the things her god had made. She was thankful.
     The four women returned the princess to her shack on the hill and traveled back home to the South. They understood the princess felt she had a duty to perform, but they hoped to return regularly to the North country for visits. They talked of people they had been in past lives, spoke of the terrible prices of gas and guessed about future events - including what their next misadventure might be.

Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down...

So, I'm driving out to Milford to take some photos of a live theatre production in which my friend, Sarah, is performing. She asks me to take pictures of the dress rehearsal so she can put together a scrapbook of the event. And, I like to see live theatre for free. It's a symbiotic relationship. Anyway, I got to thinking how great my life is (even in rural Canada). Not only is it great, it's a little... kooky. Maybe some people would like to read about it. Maybe not. But, I have all kinds of ideas about living here. My days are part Auntie Mame ("Life's a banquet and most poor suckers are starving to death!") and part Yes Man (I have difficulty saying "No" to my friends and strangers). Obviously, a lot of my inspiration comes from books and movies. HAHA! Like that time I made my friend, Amanda, dress up like a super hero just to watch Kickass on opening night at the movie theatre.

But, I digress. The County Theater Group is putting on a little production of THE DRESSER, by Ronald Harwood this weekend at Mount Tabor Theatre in Milford, ON. Tickets are 15 bucks. Sarah, plays the part of Irene, an ambitious young actress who is a bit of a whore. Nothing like Sarah in real life. So, I was shocked (and kind of grossed out) to see her getting fondled nose-to-nose with the man playing Sir in the second act! Not that she wasn`t asking for it.

It was a really good story anyway. This old fart, Sir, is a fancy English theatre actor who's losing his marbles. Luckily, he has a very patient and entertaining "dresser" (the person who dresses actors before they go on stage... who knew?) named Norman. He singlehandedly, and in spite of an air raid courtesy of the Luftwaffe,  manages to straighten up the poor senile bugger and get him on stage as King Lear. What's a Luftwaffe, you ask? Beats the hell out of me. Google it.

I just thought it was hilarious that the guy's wife is called Pussy.

I would <3 to let you know who plays all of these characters in the County Theatre Group, but the names of the actors are not listed on their website or their Facebook page and, quite frankly, I didn't know I was working as a reporter/critic anymore. I gave up my job with The Picton Gazette about nine years ago. Next time, I will be more prepared and provide more details. :)