DIS, DAT, AN' DOSE TING

Love this picture!

-Like Wiley, I’ve been having these weird dreams that force me to get up and pace around in the middle of the night. It is said that we all dream when we sleep. Maybe, but it was rare I would remember them the next day. Now I can’t forget the darned things. Not that they are all bad...they’re just completely off the wall, peopled with characters I have not seen or heard of for ages, or that I don’t recall meeting at all, and events that have me shaking my head in confusion – asking myself, “Now where did that come from?”. Our friend, Muley, had a post in his blog about learning to control our dreams. I’m going to have to look at that one again.

-My daughter came by last Saturday and spent the whole day helping me to unpack some of those office boxes and move things around to make room for the Christmas tree. It’s finally up, now it’s the decorating to be done. For some reason, I was thinking I had two more weeks until Christmas Day, when 22 to 25 visitors will be here for our traditional supper. The light bulb clicked in my brain last Friday...Christmas was next weekend!!! I had piles of documents demanding immediate attention, a huge house to clean, food to buy and cook, gifts to be bought and wrapped.....gulp! Ha! No panic. It happens every year. By Sunday night the meat pies and Christmas pork stew and fillings for stuffed bread were cooked and stacked in the freezer and/or fridge – I’m on a roll!

-Have you seen the big hullaballoo about my HABS being coached by an ‘English-only’ fellow? As if language, especially with most of the players not even speaking French, makes any difference to the sloppy way the team is playing at the moment! Our Quebec nationalists (no way am I putting a capital letter on that word!!) are having a field day, egged on by the media, of course. Idjuts, every one of them in my opinion.

-Now, a valid reason to lament is what happened to my youngest son, Jo. He went for his vasectomy yesterday. He got a butcher, who couldn’t find his way around, plus the local freezing didn’t take. My poor son endured it for 90 minutes, instead of the 30 minutes usual for such a procedure, and is black and blue down there. That’s pain! What’s more, his appointment with the surgeon who will be removing part of Jo’s intestine (it’s diverticulitis) is this afternoon. Hopefully the operation will be scheduled right after the holiday. And, in case it makes a difference, Jo is thoroughly bilingual! (Smirk!)

-Last, but not least, Grump is pouting. Mistress has not allotted much time to night walks. They have been either ignored altogether or a good deal shorter for the past week. The energetic pit will come to my office door, stand and watch me with ears pricked then, when he sees no reaction on my part, plunks himself noisily down beside my feet (and in my way!) and sighs loudly. I don’t dare glance at him...I know I’m getting ‘the look’. I try to make it up to him by letting him have a test taste of whatever Christmas food I am preparing that evening. Okay, I already know that the remedy to less exercise is NOT more food, and I’ve promised him we’ll (both) burn it off in 2012.

-For some reason I’m under the illusion that I’m semi-retired. Maybe it’s the working in pyjamas, or the extra 3 hours per day I have gained by not commuting, or the fact that, if I don’t get much sleep one night, I can do a few hours then snooze for a bit without worrying about making it to the office in time. Maybe it’s all of the above, but whatever it is, I’m just groovin' to the feeling. Bet you can see my SMILE all over your screen!!!

Luv from the Bush in Quebec,