Archive | August, 2012

Cats have religions too!

27 Aug

A tidbit of fact about me: I’m the opposite of organized. Shocking, I know. That’s not to say I have clothes flailing around all over my room (okay, maybe that does occasionally happen), but it does mean that my idea of a Saturday afternoon does not involve cleaning my car. I was pretty sure that was what husbands were for. And if that’s not part of the agreement, then I have been sorely mislead, and I demand justice!

Today, I found a bundle of hair in my car that looked exactly as if a cat bit off a chunk of my hair, chewed and gnawed on it, then threw it up as an offering. Which leads me to two conclusions:

1) A neighbourhood cat must have made a copy of my car keys and frequently inhibits my car during the night. It is also a very religious cat that regularly leaves offerings for its cat deity.
2) My husband has not cleaned my car, and I need a replacement that adheres to the guidelines of husbandly duties.


A nice walk

20 Aug

I love older neighborhoods, they are so serene and beautiful. They are especially nice for taking nice, long walks after dinner. The trees canopy you, and you can almost imagine you’re on a vacation in a nice, old village. It’s also a time where I am very happy and proud to be short.

John needs to duck with every other step, and I can happily walk tall and proud, not hit a single branch and feel at one with nature.
Carol: 1, John: 0

Except when it rains. Longer legs means he can get home faster, and I’m stuck in a downpour.
Carol: 1, John: 1

And by getting home faster, he gets to finish the chocolate cake. That leaves me licking my fingers and pressing them into the bowl to get any leftover crumbs.
Carol: 1, John: 2 (DAMMIT!!!)

France, how I love thee

6 Aug

(Written in June 2011 in anticipation of this blog’s eventual appearance)

I just came back from my honeymoon in the south of France and Greece. It was spectacularly amazing, except for the two days of vomit/diarrhea/fever/near-death that my husband experienced (Food Poisoning. No, I didn’t cook for him. And, no, I didn’t slip any poisonous substance into his drink. We’re not at that stage…yet. I kid, I kid. But, really, let’s re-evaluate after a year of marriage).

I fell in love with Europe. John fell in love with Europe. I couldn’t understand why anyone that lived in Europe would want to move to North America. I really couldn’t understand what people were still doing in North America, for goodness sake! We were so pumped to MOVE to Europe (well, France in particular. Though, I’m not sure how easy it would be to find a job without speaking the main language). Then, we came back, and I felt the life drain out of me once again. And now I know why people stick around this part of the world. Thanks, North America, thanks a lot! I don’t even have the energy or will to even dream of moving there anymore.

But, really, in North America….I want a BIG house, with a pool, and a tennis court, and matching his and her towels, and a VitaMix and a big kitchen and I will never be satisfied (ha!) in this society of wants. In Old Town, Nice, I would be happy with a tiny one-room studio with no lift and 80 flights of stairs that I’d have to climb in 34 (C) degree weather with no air conditioning, with no stove and a diet of bread and wine, and I would still be svelte and live a life of care-free happiness. Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating a bit, but you get the point.

We went to the market every morning, and grabbed fresh fruit and vegetables and baguette, and it was awesome. Look, I look like a Parisian!! Here’s me after our first trip to the market. Right before climbing the 76 steps to our rented apartment for the week.

In short, I think the main purpose of this post was to say that I had a great honeymoon. We saw lots, ate lots, laughed lots, and we want to maintain that for the rest of our marriage. Good luck to us!

Num Num Free Food

6 Aug

I was enjoying a free veggie hot dog and a double chocolate chip cookie at the Vegetarian Food Fair at a major square in downtown Toronto, when a gentleman came up to me and asked for a couple of minutes of my time, which I happily gave him.

Unidentified Gentleman: I am homeless, I’ve been living on the streets for the past four months, but I’m still optimistic that I’ll get things turned around soon! But, in the meantime, I’m just really hungry
Me: Oh, then you’re at the perfect place! There’s free hot dogs at that stand, free sandwiches over there, free yogurts in the other line-up, and free cookies right back over there. (big smile)
UG: Oh, okay then.

Then I proceeded to watch him weave through the crowd and quickly exit the square offering FREE food. Being the smart cookie that I am (eating a cookie always makes you a smarter cookie afterward), I deduced two things:
1. He wasn’t hungry…at least not for food.
2. He was intelligent enough to realize that his speech wasn’t going to work on people at a fair offering multiple free (full-sized) food items.