Remember, it's not what you eat from Christmas to New Years, it's how you eat from New Years to Christmas.....so enjoy yourself.....eat, drink and be merry this holiday season!
CHEERS!!
CHEERS!!
|
Artist Kate Church's Dancing Fool in Saddle Shoes (I know I've busted that move a few times!)  Facebook just reminded me I have a birthday coming up. It’s one of those pinnacle numbers with a zero on the end, the start of a new decade, usually classed a monumental age. It’s a one foot closer, big stepping stone marker, (grave marker that is.) Just kidding, not. I really should do something to commemorate the event instead of shrugging and calling it just another day. I think that lackadaisical attitude started with hubby away working and being alone on this so called special day. Without him I never felt like celebrating so I stayed home, watched TV and probably felt a bit sorry for myself. His birthday is actually the day after mine and we’d talk about doing something when he got home but once the day passes there’s really no thought to going back. This happened so many times our birthdays got overlooked, one year I even forgot to update the old number and was corrected months later by my son who heard me tell someone my age and interrupted me with the truth. I truly forgot, perhaps conveniently. Hubby is out in Alberta and I can’t complain after he’s been out of work for most of the year and at this point we don’t have a clue when he’ll return but I won’t be alone because his brother and wife are coming for a visit. Terry is a pretty good substitute for my husband, they are a lot alike, and Carenie is a lot of fun so we’ll think of something to pass the day. So then I got to thinking what I might like as a prezzie. We don’t usually exchange but I’m feeling selfish this year, after all it is the big six O. Hmmm. World peace is out of the question, I’ll have to shoot a bit lower, something more attainable. So I thought and I thought and then I smelled smoke as my brain was grinding away trying to figure out what I might like, want or need, but I batted zero on all three. Is this what the big 60 brings me, turning into someone so practical my shopping days are done? Is it wisdom that tells me things don’t bring happiness and that I don’t need anything because I have everything I need? I can’t even come up with a like that I’d be willing to spend the money on when I have too much stuff already. And as for a want, well, I’d like my husband retired so I don’t have to be alone but that’s not in the cards at the moment. So what do I want, like or need for my birthday? Nothing? Well, I'd take being able to stay 59 for a while longer but that’s about it. Well.....I suppose I wouldn’t turn my nose up to going dancing. I sure would love a bit of that. I’ve been exercising to music, not traditional stretching and movement but getting down and dirty on the floor, gyrating and hip swinging, busting a few moves, shakin that thing, boogying off what used to be my arse, it seems to be located further south these days, like around the backs of my knees. The pups sit on the sofa and stare at me wondering what kind of freak is going on. Jake somethings comes over for a pick up so we swoon together; he’s a wonderful dancer, smooth as Tennessee Whiskey. I’m a fan of all genres of music. I go through phases when I hang on to a particular radio station for a bit, right now, all my favourites are coming out of hot country. I like the bluesy types and there are some raunchy ones that I could play all day, never tiring of the way they make me feel. Girl Crush, You Look Good, Dust On My Boots, On The Pontoon, Tennessee Whiskey, The Fighter, Blue Ain’t Your Colour, My Church and Stay are to name a few. Next week it might be Hard Rock or Classical; some lively Mozart pieces are fun to get down too. Anyway, I’m shaken all over and feeling fine. I’d love to go dancing when hubby comes home if that can be arranged. Surely some place has music that’s not too far away cause I’m old and hate a long drive home and I like to limit the time away from the pups. Ah the memories of rug school. It was wild this year with cutting up the dance floor to the DJ on party night, could use some of that right now. I dance about as good as I sing, all over the place, and I dance like everyone is watching and I don’t care. Anyone observing from the sidelines, backed up so I don’t accidentally swing and arm or a leg and smack them, might think I have a dislocated hip and/or some sort of palsy but man, I’m happier than a pig in a mud puddle when I’m on the dance floor cuttin a rug! Perhaps the fumes are still in my head, I just finished the apartment floor and feel a bit high from the oil based varnish. Maybe I should lie down for a bit. Perhaps I shouldn’t write when I’m this tired and under a chemical influence.......  To see more of Kate Church's art click this link: www.katechurch.com
I realized this morning that I was confused what day was the 4th. I thought it was Monday in my fume saturated brain. TODAY (Tuesday) is the International Rug Hooking Day, but alas I'll be varnishing a floor so the same applies....no hooking for me!  I hope everyone in hooker land had a fabulous International Rug Hooking Day. I was thinking about all the fun happening in the four corners of the earth. All the comradery throughout the fiber communities, the sisterhood of wool gathering together like a flock of sheep. I wanted to mark the day with some kind of fanfare but a tenant moved out and I knew I’d be front and center with dirt up to my arm pits and as predicted that’s exactly the way it is.
I unclogged the kitchen sink drain by plunging it out. The grimy black gunk shot out of the other drain all over my face and shirt, oh joy. My fingers nails are worn to nubs from sos pads trying to clean the stove top black enamel, burner pans. The chap must have cooked with high heat because the food was burned on and nothing would remove it except for a razor, scraping it off carefully as not to damage the enamel. It took almost an hour for four of them but they look brand new! The inside of the cupboards were stained with spilled liquids that needed soaking to remove. The fridge vegetable drawers had so much liquid spilled on them that the glass fused to the plastic frame and had to be soaked for a while in the bathtub to give up the grip. The grout around the bathroom sink had to be bleach out. After years of hot steamy showers the dark walls had to be washed and painted. The ceiling fan was so clogged with dust little stream got out so it probably made the bathroom like a terrarium, drips coming down the walls leaving etched trails. The brand new facet in the bathroom had seized up and the drain pull was rusted shut. Brand new after the previous tenant moved out. I wish this last tenant would have phoned us to say it wasn’t working cause once it broke, well it’s over. I replaced that. I switched out all the light bulbs for LED ones. They are a lot more expensive but are cheaper to burn and last considerably longer. A perk for the new tenant. Every inch of the walls, trim and doors are washed. I slapped on a fresh coat of paint where it was needed. Repaired a large hole in the plaster where the sofa back rubbed the wall. I only have the vacuuming left, then a wash before slapping on a coat or two of varnish to give the place the final spiff. I’m not complaining, it’s my life and I do what needs to be done. We have a mortgage so there has to be quick turnaround to keep the payments coming and the bank off our backs, but too bad I had to miss the hooking fun! Gregg is away so it all fell on my shoulders and I’m capable but one person is slower than two pairs of hands. I’ve scrubbed until my thumb print will no longer work as the password to my phone. It must have rubbed off some of the ridges and lines. My hands were in and out of water so much my body got confused and started growing gills. And the fumes; oven cleaner, Javex for bleaching worn bits of the floor, Mr. Clean for walls and appliances, and then the paint made for a toxic, smelly, cocktail for me. Even the low odor oven cleaner has a smell, but much better than it’s harsher cousin. I cleaned the stove at the apartment and still had a half of a can left so I got home and sprayed my house oven and after the two hour wait I was scrubbing the living daylights out of it at one in the morning. It hadn’t been cleaned in a loooonnnngggg while, it’s one of those self-cleaning stoves that scare me so I don’t like using the function. I tried it once, it made a lot of cracking and creaking noises from the metal expanding and contacting driving the pups nuts and the high temperature made the outside of it hot to the touch, quite worrisome close to the cupboards thinking it might burn down the house or explode. I left the oven racks in it per the instructions and they turned dull with colours like oil in a mud puddle. I like things to shine, not look old before their time so it annoyed me that my racks are now forever dull. Without using the function, I was stuck with a dirty oven and you can’t use regular oven cleaners on them as the metal is more porous. So my oven grew blacker than a coal mine. I was pleasantly surprised to read that this new product was safe on self-cleaning ovens and advertised low odor, not to be confused with no order, it still bothered me but it could have been worse. Our Pot Luck Christmas party is this weekend, the reason for the clean in the first place, I was perfectly happy to live with the mess, I look in there very infrequently and once the door is closed my mind finds better things to think about. Now I won’t have to be embarrassed if someone brings a casserole that needs heating. Last year, opening that door was like entering a dark, dingy cave, the burned on black crust a harbinger of shame. Now it looks like it just rolled off the factory floor so I might have to open it just to show it off casserole or not! It’s sad really that in no time it’ll be haunted by my unwillingness to let it clean itself. Now that it’s fresh and clean I’ll try to retain the look as long as possible but from now on, our meals will be dictated by what splatters and what doesn’t. I don’t know if I should admit this, some will think it’s perverted and sick...but.....on some level....bless the inner freak....I kind of like cleaning. Its mindless, giving my brain a break, but getting down and dirty with the elbow grease, scouring and making something clean and shiny, breathing life back into a sad little inanimate object is a source of satisfaction and pride. I'll use an arsenal of tools to achieve my goal, like tooth picks, tooth brushes, screwdrivers and scrapers, whatever it takes to dig that scrap of dirt out of a corner to get the job done. This kind of work is fun, FUN!. Geesh!&^#*% Maybe the fumes were stronger than I thought....... |
Christine Little has been ranked #5 out of the 60 top rug hooking bloggers by Rug Hooking Magazine!
 
Max Anderson, Australia, recipient of my Nova Scotia Treasures rug. An award of excellence for promoting Canada through his writing.
Archives
November 2019
Gift Certificates are available for that special rug hooker in your life! Any denomination, no expiry date!
 Categories
|
RSS Feed
