Tricia's Musings

Random Thoughts about life in general, living in the big city of Toronto



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Missing

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I think my boarders days are numbered.

It really is a shame because we were all getting along so very well.

But she blew it.

We were going to bring her to Ottawa with us for the weekend, but when I was talking to my brother last week he thought it was a little strange for her to come seeing as it was sort of a family reunion and that she really wouldn’t be seeing much of Ottawa. To tell the truth, I wasn’t all that comfortable with bringing her along either, so I told her as nicely as possible that I was sorry, but unfortunately we couldn’t bring her along.

That turned out fine. She decided that perhaps she’d take one of the School bus tour trips. She’d taken one a few weeks ago, one that took her to Montreal, Quebec city and Ottawa. Now she thought she’d take the four day New York City trip. It sounded like a good deal. Travel overnight on Friday to New York City, see the sights and spend the Saturday and Sunday nights in shared hotel rooms, then come back Monday afternoon – well it would be late evening by the time she’d arrive home.

She signed up for the trip, but on Wednesday she told me that the trip might be cancelled as there weren’t enough students on the list. Then on Thursday she told me that there were enough students and that she was leaving on Friday at 7 p.m., and to the best of our knowledge when she left on Friday at 6:15 p.m. or so she was headed for the bus station and would soon be on a bus headed to New York.

Saturday morning Chris and I packed the car and headed to Ottawa. We had a great drive. It was hot but we kept all the windows down and the ride was tolerable. We arrived at my brothers and then went on to the party being held for my aunts 80th birthday. It was fun to see all my relatives again. Later, we went back to my brothers house, and my sister – who was also staying at my brothers was there too, and one of my other brothers and his wife came over as well. We all jumped into their great big hot tub.

Yeah, my third hot tub event in a month, only this time I got in. Oh, and yes, my husband Chris behaved himself this time round and was relatively sober. If you’ve read any of my past entries you’ll know that if my husband hears the word hot tub he usually jumps right in there and stays in for hours and there is often alcohol involved. Probably not a great combo, but he has fun … often too much fun.

The next day we went over to one of my cousins for a wonderful brunch and got to see nearly everyone all over again. Then we headed home. We took the long way home because I wanted to take some pictures along the way of the beautiful scenery – lakes, barns, fields of wheat, corn etc, oh and the beautiful rock cuttings along the highway. We left at 12:45 or so and didn’t get home until 7:30 p.m. Yup, we got caught in the “returning from the cottage” traffic jams.

One of our stops on the way home was at a Cheese Factory. We decided to stock up on some nice cheeses. It’s cheaper to purchase it there than in the grocery store and the quality and selection is much better too. We bought cheese curds – cheddar, white cheese, and roasted garlic curds. Mmmm. We also got some old cheddar, marble cheese, and some flavored cheeses – horseradish, vidalia onion, and roast garlic. $65 bucks worth of cheese and a jar of honey too. Our other stop was to buy some wild blueberries and some home made blueberry jam at a roadside stand. Yummy.

It was very hot on the way home. We ended up buying a bag of ice to put over the cheese to keep it cool so it didn’t go bad as we drove home. It survived.

We were exhausted when we got home and my right leg was extremely swollen. It had become swollen on Saturday during our drive to Ottawa and continued to swell at the party and throughout the evening. The hot tub didn’t help as I hoped it would, and my nights rest only brought the swelling down a small amount. So it was really ballooning out by the time we got home on Sunday. My foot is now bruised across the top and on the inner ankle, and my shin and calf are bruised as well. The knee still has a plum sized swelling below the kneecap. It’s just not getting any better although I can walk on it a little better these days. I’m going to have to have it looked at again sometime this week. I was hoping it was all that heat that was making my knee and leg swell, but it’s been swelling up since I’ve been back and I’m in air conditioning so it’s not the heat.

Anyway … we relaxed Sunday evening. Actually I think I fell asleep on the couch by 8:30, I was so tired. Monday came and went. By late evening we were expecting to hear Angela, our boarder, walk in the door but she never did.

She had told me on Thursday that she might be interested in staying in New York an extra day. I didn’t think she’d manage it – I mean, if she was paying a special price for a return trip and hotel stays etc why would she ditch her trip back that she’d already paid for just to stay one more day? Anyway, I told her that if she decided to stay an extra day to please give us a call. I even told her she could call collect if she wanted to. She didn’t call.

By 1 pm this afternoon we were getting worried. We realized that she’d probably stayed in New York an extra day, but we still worried. She’d been fairly responsible up until now and we were surprised that she hadn’t called us. So we called the agency that had brought her into Canada and connected her with us, her home stay “parents”. They weren’t too helpful … just wait and see what happens, they said. Uh, no.

So we called her school and they checked to see if she was in class. Nope. The travel co-ordinator for the school was there and that’s when we found out that she didn’t take the New York trip with the school. She wasn’t listed as a passenger, and all the students that the co-ordinator had taken on the trip had been accounted for and had returned home Monday night.

Now we were really worried. Did she go to New York at all?

We called some of her friends numbers that were on our phone display. We spoke to one guy who had said that he went to New York over the weekend and he had been expecting a call from Angela so that they could get together. He never heard from her. More worry, maybe she didn’t even make it out of Toronto? We called another friend and she too had expected Angela to be back by last night. Her friend did tell us that Angela had taken a bus on her own and was staying with friends in New York. A fact that Angela had neglected to tell us.

All in all we spent three hours taking to the people at her school, her friends, and the Agency that she signed up with. We decided to wait until about 9 pm this evening to see if she arrived home on her own, otherwise we were considering filling a missing person report.

About an hour after we had decided to wait, Angela called us. She was using a cell phone that had a Toronto area code. We still aren’t sure if she really was in New York. We told her that we were worried about her and that we’d been trying to figure out what happened to her. No sorry, no embarrassment that we’d called her school, agency and her friends. Just a flat response. She didn’t really sound like herself. She was only calling to let us know that she’d be coming home on a bus tonight and would arrive back at the house at about 7 a.m. Wednesday morning and would I please make her lunch for her and leave it in the fridge so she could pick it up.

When I said that we’d been expecting a call last night if she was staying over in New York she said she was in the Statue of Liberty until Midnight and couldn’t call. Uh, she knows I sometimes say up till 5 a.m. because I can’t sleep. There was no fear of waking me up. She could have called. I didn’t say that, but that is a fact and she knows it. Even Chris is still up more often than not after midnight.

I feel lied to. She led me to believe that she was going on a trip through the school. She said nothing about any friends in New York, possibly staying with them, or going there on her own. Chris is disappointed in her too, and it’s hard to make him feel bad about anyone … he just doesn’t hold grudges or have recentful feelings, but he feels duped too.

One other thing that adds to our disappointment. It’s a small thing, but for me, it started the ball rolling. Let’s just say it put my “radar” up. Last week one of our neighbors gave us some home baked Greek cookies. The cookies are something like biscotti. They’re really good. She gave us about 25 of them. She gave them to us on the one year anniversary of her husbands death. I don’t know if this is some kind of Greek custom, or if she was just keeping herself busy that day and ended up being nice to the neighbors as a result, but either way they were a special gift. The cookies are fantastic and she only gives them to us once or twice a year. We’re probably lucky to get them even that often.

I gave one to Angela after they were given to us, and Angela was aware of how and why we got them. Chris didn’t have any. I had one later that day. I think it was last Tuesday that our neighbor gave them to us. By Wednesday evening I noticed that there was only half a bag left. I thought Chris was eating all of them because that’s what he usually does. On Friday, I packed Angela a lunch for her long bus trip. I made a sandwich, a bagel with cream cheese, added in two banana muffins, two soft drinks, a bottle of water, an apple, and a peach and I was about to add a few of the Greek cookies but when I looked at the bag there were only four left.

Hold on a minute? Only four? I’d only had one, and there had to have been twenty or twenty-five in the bag when we got them on Tuesday. Did Chris put some in his and her lunch earlier that day? Nope Chris still hadn’t had any. Oh oh … that means Angela ate almost the whole bag of cookies on her own? But that was a gift. A gift for Chris and I … not our boarder. How rude!

Now, you need to know that Angelas rent pays for her room and three meals a day. In the agency agreement it does not include snacks or any extras. We’ve been generous with her … probably too generous and she obviously took advantage of the situation.

We asked her about the cookies and she said … oh yes I had two this morning. Two … is that all? The bag is almost empty. Oh I had two the other night. Yeah … 20 or so.

Now, I know that I’m only talking about cookies, and that it’s a small thing, but she’s done other things like that that made me feel that she was being sneaky and or that she only thinks of herself. When she first moved in she had the balls to call us and ask us to pick her up from her former Homestay. We did, and they told us that she was a handful, a “princess”, and wished us good luck. Guess we now know what they meant.

We are very generous people, and I think we usually treat others well. We are not “me me me” people at all. But it seems that our boarder is.

Are we wrong to be upset about cookies that were given as a gift being gobbled up by someone that is only staying in our home temporarily and who’s rent doesn’t cover extra’s like snacks … even though we’ve given her free access to all the food and other items in our home?

Were we wrong to worry about her when we didn’t hear from her on Monday, and then to worry even more when we still hadn’t heard from her by early this afternoon?

Would you feel lied to and deceived if you thought someone was going on a school trip and even told you that that’s how they were getting to New York, and only found out after you’d wasted three hours of your time worrying and making phone calls that she went to New York on her own and didn’t bother to call because she was busy? And didn’t apologize when she found out you’d been worried, and didn’t seem embarrassed when she found out that you’d called basically everyone that she knows in the city looking for her? I certainly would be embarrassed if someone went to that much trouble trying to find me when I was perfectly fine.

We’re really upset. She’s going to have to earn back our trust but I really don’t think that’s possible at this point. I think that when her month is up we’ll probably be asking her to leave.

One of the worst things someone can do in my books is lie to me and I feel that that’s what she’s done. Maybe I’m wrong, but that’s the way I feel.





So it continues

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If you’ve come here for the Saturday Photo Hunt I’m sorry to say that I don’t have anything that really suits the theme of Doors … but if allowed this entry might work as it came through my DOOR early Tuesday morning:

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Found: Tuesday morning in our enclosed front porch – one pair of well used running shoes.

Lost: My husbands nice white running shoes that he usually uses for his work as a porter at the hospital.

Priceless: The look on my husbands face when he realized the shoes above were left as a replacement for his stolen shoes.

On Tuesday morning, as I was upstairs getting ready to go and see my family Doctor about my knee that I could still barely put any weight on, my husband came up the the stairs to talk to me.

“Baby, don’t get upset.” he said.

“Upset? About what?” I replied.

“I can’t find my shoes. You know the ones I wear to work?”

He’d worked on Monday and he was tired when he returned. Could he have put his shoes in the back porch? worn them downstairs to the basement when he got home? Nope, he looked everywhere. They were gone.

He proceeded to tell me “Someone must have come into our front porch in the night or early this morning and took my shoes.” Shaking his head at the thought.

“What do you mean someone came in and took your shoes?” I asked.

“Well, you see, they left their old huge dirty ones that they were wearing.” he replied.

I went downstairs to see the shoes, and there inside my front porch were the shoes pictured above. Well worn, very dirty, crushed heel area. Yuck. There were sitting as you see them in front of one of the chairs were have inside the porch. A pile of our other shoes were nearby.

The person, probably a homeless, or perhaps someone that was recently released from the hospital (as in one of the psych patients maybe), must have been wandering around on the street and for some reason decided to enter our enclosed front porch. They tried on all the running shoes that we have out there and left the remains in a pile. It must have seemed like a shoe store to the person. Lucky find for him, unlucky for my husband.

My husband I both wear the same size shoe. He’s a short and I’m tall and somehow we both pretty much have the same sized feet. How rare is that anyway? His feet are wider than mine though, so we don’t trade shoes very often. Actually he’s not really allowed to wear mine as he stretches them out. Besides going back to the whole cross dressing memories that I have of and ex I don’t really want to see Chris wearing my shoes, at least not my heels.

I’m counting this as one more unlucky thing that has happened to us this month. Could have been worse I suppose. Chris has had those shoes for over 6 months and they were starting to wear a little with all the walking he does for work anyway. Besides, if I remember correctly we got them at an manufacture outlet so the price was inexpensive too. Unfortunately he needs new shoes now. Anyone know of any deals in the Toronto area?

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Now we are off to Ottawa. One of my Aunts is celebrating her 80th birthday and her family is throwing a surprise party for her. I haven’t been back to Ottawa, my home town, since finishing things up there after my mothers death in 2003. It might be a little bit of an emotional rollercoaster of a weekend.

The drive takes between 4 and 4.5 hours, depending on traffic and how fast we go. Unfortunately, with my knee, which happens to be a tiny bit better but still very sore and extremely swollen, our ride might take longer if it acts up and we end up having to stop a few times so I can stretch my legs.

The party is at 2 pm! It’s 7 a.m. now, so I guess we’d better get started. Oh we’re going through a heat wave here. It’s supposed to be 32 C (89.6 F) but with the humidty it will feel like 40 Celsius (104 F). Did I tell ya we DON’T have air-conditioning in our car? It broke last year and we didn’t fix it, well we tried but it didn’t work. So … it’s going to be a long hot sticky drive. We’ll do the same thing and experience the same conditions sometime tomorrow as we return home.

My Green Thumb Sunday post will be up sometime Sunday afternoon when I return!

Pros and Cons of being a lefty

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Thirteen Things about being left handed!

1…. There’s probably more cons than pros to being a lefty, but I try to turn the cons into pros as often as I can take for example:

2…. Eating with others at a table – be it round, square or rectangle. Many lefties eat with the fork in the right hand and knife in the left but I use them the “correct way” fork in left, knife in right. But being a lefty it’s my left arm that’s moving the most and when I sit next to right handed people we bump elbows. A lot. How to turn this into a pro? Tell the waiter/ waitress or host that you are a lefty and ask to sit at an outer left hand corner of the table. You might even get to sit at the head or foot of the table if you mention that you are a lefty. The pro is that you end up with more room than many of the other dinners. I haven’t thought of any solutions for round table dinning except to try not to sit at one.

3…. Lefties usually write with the paper slanted to the right. School desks made for right handed students were a big problem – very hard to use if you are a lefty. Luckily I’m not in school anymore so I very rarely encounter “right handed” desks.

4…. I do have a problem when I sit at other peoples computers or use the computers at work. They are usually set up for right handed people. Most of the time I just have to move the mouse, but sometimes I can’t because the mouse cord is too short. Other times the whole set up is too difficult for me to use- the angle of the monitor is wrong, and or the keyboard is placed in a difficult to use place.

5…. Scissors! My first memory of using scissors is in kindergarten. I think it was my adventures with scissors that made me realize as a kid that I was just a little bit different from most of the other kids. I can remember how sore those little scissors made my hand feel when I tried to cut the construction paper. My inner thumb and outer index finger would end up blistered if I did a lot of cutting – and that still happens if I can’t find left handed scissors when I need a pair. Since I’m the chief scissor user in the house all of the scissors are left handed. Poor Chris.

6…. A lot of tools and kitchen appliances are difficult or even dangerous for lefties to use. Knives that are serrated only on one side often do a poor job in the hands of a lefty. I have a special bread slicing knife that my sister gave me as a gift but I can’t use it at all. Potato peelers, manual canopeners, even pitza cutters are tedious to use. Yes many of these items are made for lefties now but they can be hard to find and more often than not are more expensive.

7…. I have left handed pruners for my gardening but I had to special order the kind that I wanted and they cost about $20 more than the right handed model of the same kind.

8…. Only left handed people are in their Right mind. Have you heard that one before? The left side of the brain controls the right side of the body, and the right side controls the left side of the body. So I’m in my right mind … maybe, well sometimes.

9…. Being right minded, it’s said that left handed people are more creative than many right handers. I am creative, well at least I think so. I like to draw, and I used to do a lot of graphic arts, my husband who is a muscian says I have a good singing voice so I guess I can sing. I enjoy photography but I’m not sure that I’d call that a talent just yet, however I am working on it.

10…. Studies have indicated that left handed people have a higher incidence of autoimmune disorders – inflammatory bowel disease (Ulcerative colitis, crohns), Arthritis, lupus … Unfortunately I’m one of the lefties with Crohns.

11…. Toilet paper. You don’t realize how important toilet paper placement is until you are left handed and the toilet paper is to the far right and perhaps set up so that the paper comes from the back of the roll (under). It’s hard to use that way. We have to use our right hand to get it, and for me the rolls that are set up so that the paper comes from under the roll – usually at the back of the dispenser or against the wall are the hardest to get at.

12…. Pens that have ink in them that doesn’t dry almost immediately when it’s put to paper are a royal pain too. Lefties end up smearing what they’ve written or end up with ink on the outside of their hand.

13…. I guess another pro of being left handed is that we learn to adapt to situations easily. We have to – we live in a right handed world and we need to use our right hands probably far more often than most right handed people have to use their left.

Bonus – A con. It’s hard for right handed people to teach lefties things that are “very” right handed. Things like knitting for example … some people have tried to teach me in the past but they ended up confusing both themselves and me in the process. My husband has been supposed to teach me guitar for over a decade now but he’s hesitant since I’m left handed. Maybe someday he’ll teach me the right handed way and I’ll figure out how to do it left handed on my own. Back to kindergarten – I can remember a teacher trying to teach me to tie my shoes – even that can be hard for a righty to teach a lefty.

Links to other Thursday Thirteens!
Please only list your name if you have a recent Thursday Thirteen post

Why do guys always want to get into my bathing suit?

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It seems that men have always had some strange sort of fascination for my bathing suits, and a strong desire to get into them. Well some men anyway.

By in them, I literally mean IN them. Oh yes I do!

I remember back when I was dating this guy named Michael. We had an on again, off again kind of relationship. Actually he traveled around a lot because he was trying to start a music career so we sometimes went months without seeing each other, but he’d always show up again eventually.

I can’t remember what exactly I liked about him, but I do remember what I didn’t like. He was the kind of guy that would suggest going out to dinner or to a movie and never ended up having his wallet with him when it came time to pay the bill. Yeah, that kind.

One of the last times that I saw him he’d just come back into town, from God knows where, and ended up at my door sometime late in the evening. He had no place to stay and wanted to rekindle some of the old sparks I guess. I must have let him stay over and then went to work the next day, or else I went out for some reason and left him alone in my apartment, long enough for him to have started exploring and going through my drawers and closets.

Whatever the reason I was out, I did eventually come home. I found him in my bedroom. I walked in to say hello and to ask him what he was doing and I was greeted with the most unexpected display!

He was standing there dressed in one of my one piece bathing suits!

I was shocked!

He was fascinated, happy, and more than a little bit excited. I, however, wasn’t the least bit excited by the view of him prancing around in my bathing suit that was stretched to the limit on his muscular and hairy body.

Total turn off!

Then to top it off … he pulled out one of my skirts – a pink one, and put that on too while I stood in utter amazement unable to utter a word.

Needless to say the skirt didn’t do anything for me either. Perhaps another colour might have done the trick? … but no, a hot pink mini and a tight black bathing suit and hairy chest was just so not my thing.

As he was reaching for another one of my clothing items – another skirt, a dress, a piece of lingerie? I can’t remember now, I was attempting to get him out of my bedroom and out the door. I was successful in removing him from the premises.

To this day I have no idea if he was taking advantage of a secret indulgence to wear womens clothing while I was away, or if he had been planning to surprise me and hopefully get me turned on by the jaw dropping display of him in my swimwear.

The next time he showed up at my door, perhaps a year later, Chris answered. I believe Michael stayed for less than 5 minutes and has never been back since.

After that last meeting I was fairly certain that I would never encounter another man that wanted to get into my bathing suit again … well, at least in the wrong, the oh so very wrong, kind of way, that is.

That was not to be. I was the one who was wrong.

Saturday night, as I sat by the Hot tub tending my wounded knee and glaring at my husband frolicking around in the water in an alcohol induced euphoria, I decided to pull out my bikini to show the hot tubbers that I really had been prepared to join them this time round. The last time I ended up at a hot tub party was just under a month ago, only I didn’t know they had a hot tub, and coax as they might, nothing would induce me into getting into the tub that night and showing off my in need of a shave legs! See, If I’d known, I would have been ready … but no way was I baring my legs that night.

As I pulled out my purple bikini bottom and waved it in the air, my brother in law, who the hot tubbers had also been relentlessly trying to coax into the tub, declared that he’d be happy to borrow my bikini and get in.

I made that bikini disappear so fast you would have thought I’d waved a magic wand or did an “I dream of Jeanie” nod of my head. They were gone, never, never to be seen again by my brother-in-law!

Now, women in mens clothing? Sometimes that’s cute. However men in womens clothing is NOT cute, at least not if they are trying to turn on their girlfriend. Then again, they’ve come out with Manties now, so maybe I’m wrong about the whole guy wearing feminine clothing being a turn off for women?

What do the women say? Ever walked in and found your boyfriend or spouse trying on your more feminine clothing items? Turn on or turn off?

Men, don’t feel excluded, I’d love to hear your take on this topic too … any secret desires to wear your ladies bikini or lingerie? Speak up.

It could only happen to me

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Geez, I thought bad things only happened in threes? Whatever happened to that anyway?

Maybe I’m doing “3 of a kind” bad things? Or perhaps someone has a Voodoo doll with my name on it and they’ve cursed me? Yeah, that’s it, someone is sitting at home right now sticking pins in a weird looking doll.

This absolutely has nothing to do with the strange fact that every summer, for most of the last 6 years, I’ve managed to injure one of my lower extremities. Nope. Nor does it have anything to do with me being the klutz of the century. Uh huh, no it’s a curse I tell ‘ya.

Here’s the tally, for those of you that haven’t been keeping track:

Last week- first bad comment on this site (not so bad but it counts, ok?); then a hacker breaks into my domain and adds their own “ringtone” directory and steals my bandwidth; and finally our 50″ DLP T.V. fails to start on Wednesday morning – we think it’s blown its lamp ($350 to replace) and hope to have a replacement sometime this week.

Then, for the personal injury run of three bad things –

1. March: I fell flat on my face, or rather my jaw and split the skin and tissues right to the bone. The scar is still healing, and my jaw still hurts in places.

2. Yesterday – spectacular knee injury!

Usually my annual summer injury has something to do with my feet or ankles -sprains, badly torn tendons … last year, I didn’t injury myself, but it was only by the skin of my teeth that I missed out on that one. Chris and I were helping a friend put in a outdoor patio and pergola and had been using an auger? to dig 3 or 4 foot deep holes. What do I do? I backed right into one and landed with one of my legs in a hole almost to the hip. Scraped the heck out of my knee and was bruised pretty good, but since it was only scrapes and bruises I’m not counting it.

3. ? some unknown injury coming soon to a blogger near you – probably ME. I’m not going to count the bowel obstruction that I had the week before last, or my two year crohns flare … I think those items fall into their own special category.

Just what did I do to my knee? I’m sure some of you want to know? Even if you don’t want to know, I’m going to tell you, you know that don’t you?

The act of injury really isn’t all that interesting. I simply tripped and fell. And no I wasn’t drunk. I’ll admit that I had had two or three drinks, but they had been imbibed over 4 hours and I’d just finished a spectacular dinner of deep fried turkey, BBQ’d steak, cabbage rolls, lasagna, a multitude of salads (potato, pasta, veggie, coleslaw) and even a small piece of cake.

I was feeling a little cool so I was walking with my boarder back to the car to get my sweater. We were talking one minute and the next I was feeling my left ankle twist and I was headed for the pavement. All I could think of was “stick your arms out, don’t get your face AGAIN!” LOL I landed solidly on my hands and knees. Stop thinking dirty.

I had walked over a curb on a street that still needed it’s final paving so the curb wasn’t smooth, it was V shaped. My foot must have hit the wrong part of the curb and boom down I went.

Both knees were scraped since I was wearing shorts, but I knew my right knee had taken the brunt of the fall. I sat there in the middle of the road with my knees stinging listening to my boarder call out “Chris Tricia knelt” Chris Tricia Knelt” Remember she’s still learning English, so this was a perfect opportunity to teach her the correct phrase – No, Angela – it’s “Tricia fell, and tell him to get the hell over here!”

Chris and Angela helped me hobble back into the house and then my very drunk husband went back outside to the party. The girls took over and tended to my wounds, but as I looked at my right knee I knew I’d done a good one, or as it’s coming to be known “Pulled a Tricia”. I had a nice egg like swelling below and on the outside of my kneecap.

Hmm that’s never happened before. Looks like I have two kneecaps now, well actually a total of three. Kneecaps wear out eventually don’t they? Maybe it’s a good thing to have what appears to be a spare?

Maybe not.

I knew there was no way that I was going to get my husband to leave so I sat with my leg propped up with an ice pack on my knee. The swelling increased and increased. I was in PAIN. Hubby was in the hot tub. Nothing was going to get him out, and he was determined to get me in there. Uh huh Hon, I’ve got and open wound, I don’t think our hosts would really appreciate that. Not to mention that I couldn’t walk, and I’d probably wipe out trying to get into the darn Hot tub anyway.

The injury occurred around 9 p.m and I finally convinced Chris that I was badly injured and that we needed to leave at around 3 a.m. Naturally we were the last to leave as per usual. We decided that we’d leave early the next morning and get back to Toronto so I could go to a hospital and probably have the fluid drained from my knee. Know what time we left Brantford? 3:30 p.m. I’m not going to say anymore about that other than Chris is definitely in the doghouse. Big Time. He’s a great guy and all, but when he’s in party mode there’s obviously no stopping him.

On the way home we were approaching the African Lion Safari near Hamilton Ontario. Our Korean border had never been to anything like that before. It’s kind of a zoo with lions and Monkeys that you drive through, and the animals are often right at your car and or jumping on your car (or chasing it). I suggested that we go. Hey I wouldn’t have to walk, you just sit in the car for that, and it was something interesting for Angela to see. “Oh no”, Chris said, “we have to get you to a hospital”. Now the concern? What was one more half hour when I’d already been in major pain for at least 18 hours? Guess it was too much because we didn’t go.

We finally got home and then went to the hospital. The ER was fairly quiet for a Sunday. Usually it’s just packed. It took less than 1.5 hours for me to get in, go to minor treatment, go to xray and then be seen by a doctor. That’s pretty good and had nothing to do with my being staff there. It was quiet enough that everything was moving well.

The doctor said that I have a good sized pool of blood on my knee. It’s going to end up being one heck of a bruise that will travel down my shin. Nice- I have a huge family re-union BBQ next weekend. I might have a torn ligament, and or a torn meniscus. We’ll see how things go over the next day or two. I have to try to stay off my feet. Uhm the bathroom and bedroom are both upstairs, computer- main floor … TV’s not working so that doesn’t matter.

If I keep injuring myself like this I think I should invest in one of those electric stairway chairs. What do you think?

Did I tell ya Chris’ new nickname for me yet? It’s “Hop Along Hunny”

So, I’m sitting here with my leg propped up on a stool, ice pack over the knee, and I’m typing away. Moving my knee the tiniest bit hurts pretty bad, and I haven’t quite figured out the best way to get up and down the stairs without wanting to scream.

I really don’t understand my personal run of bad luck and all the falls I’ve had this year. I think it’s time to take matters into my own hands.

By taking matters into my own hands, I’m going to break my personal ethics here and beg for donations.

I want your bubble wrap and I want it ASAP. If you can’t send bubble wrap, money will do, and I’ll use that to buy new bubble wrap.

My plan is to wrap myself in bubble wrap every time I need to go outside. I figure if I wind enough layers of it over my body I can’t possibly hurt myself if I fall. The sound of my falling might be pretty amazing too – can you imagine the sound of thousands of bubbles popping all at once?

Wait! I might go deaf if that happens.

Or worse, the sound might draw the bubble wrap popping fanatics out of the woodwork and I might get attacked by a mob of crazed bubble poppers.

That could be scary! I don’t even want to think about it.

Maybe I need to re-think this plan? What about a human sized gerbil ball that I could enclose myself in and just roll to where ever I want to go? Could anything go wrong with that plan?

Does anyone know if bubble wrap or heavy duty plexiglass (aka huge gerbil ball) offer protection against voodoo curses? or even genetically programmed klutziness?

I need answers people. Quick now, before I hurt myself again.

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