Just my luck. I sit down to write and the room starts to spin.
I may have eaten my weight, or at the very least a newborn’s weight, in Orville Redenbacher’s Caramel and White Cheddar popcorn. Wondering now if that’s behind the sudden tilt in my balance.
My daughter and I had our first session of insulin pump training at the hospital today. It was a lot to take in. The dietitian who helped us work on some advanced carb counting told K. that today she has been reborn. (I thought perhaps she meant that K. got a new lease on life. Six and two threes?)
We have accounts to create and supplies to order. Neither of us wants to mess this up. I’d better remind K. to set alarms on her phone for finger pokes overnight. (No, wait. That’s next week.)
I had been thinking about doing an UberEats shift. Maybe not the best idea for today.
That’s what people in the T1D groups are saying.
K. and I are more than a little freaked out, all the same.
Soon this will no longer be her reality.
A year ago today, friends needed to rehome a black cat who had adopted them by virtue of showing up on their back step and persisting in being allowed inside their apartment.
I’m a sucker for panther babies. My daughter promptly claimed naming rights. Thus Loki, aka Lolobirdy and The Lokinator, came to live with us.
He’s an easygoing fellow, unless his water bowl is empty or he can see the bottom of the kibble dish. He is expert at weaving an infinity loop around human legs. We have no idea how old he actually is, but age ain’t nothing but a number. He has been a source of comfort to me ever since Jeeber Cat died last October. Even Coco has – in true tortie style – made peace with Loki.
Enjoy your day, Lolobirdy. I’ll give you a chin massage and belly rub later, when I see you.
All photo credit goes to Keely Martin, Loki’s favourite human.
Today’s blog is a series of PSAs. Ladies to men. Use as needed.
Dishes will never wash themselves, no matter how hard we wish for it. The dishwasher tabs are in a box, under the sink.
It’s not babysitting when they’re your own kids.
Just put the seat down. You know which one.
You don’t get to say you’ve given up doing housework when you don’t offer to help with it, Spongebob.
Got others? Do share in the comments. I plan on making printables and posting them randomly around the house, starting with someone’s computer screen.
Signed, “Broke A Damned Sweat Hunting Down A Drawer’s Worth Of Cutlery”
Chili Seasonings, Tomato Sauce, Red Kidney Beans
I hesitated for a bit before coming up with the title for this recipe post. I don’t want to leave any of you with the idea that you’re stupid. I support a kinder, gentler Internet. So here you go. I’m sharing a dish that my teenagers ate and LIKED. Everybody wins. Will there be leftovers? Yes, but they won’t last long once my partner spots the casserole dish in the fridge.
2 lbs of ground pork
1 can (398 mL) of Hunt’s Tomato Sauce
1 can (540 mL) of Aylmer Accents Chili Seasonings
1 can (540 mL) of Unico Red Kidney Beans (No Salt Added)
1 cup of cooked white rice
Rinse the kidney beans. Combine the beans, tomato sauce, and chili seasonings in a medium size mixing bowl. Set aside.
Brown the ground pork in a deep frying pan. Add bowl of chili fixings to the pan and simmer while the rice cooks. I have a countertop rice maker but I get better results when I make rice on the stovetop.
Place in bowls, or whatever you want.
Total time? The rice takes 15 minutes after it’s covered. Browning the meat varies depending on whether or not you’re cooking from frozen or using fresh ground pork. The chili will do its thing quite happily on the stovetop while the rice cooks.
Try it out and let me know what you think, in the comments.
Netflix Canada, why? Why aren’t you offering the first season of RuPaul’s Drag Race?
The only contestant from Season 2 who I recognize is Jujubee, because she was on Drag Me Down The Aisle.
And, of course, there’s Shangela. She quit her job to appear on Drag Race.
Bear with me while I catch up with the rest of y’all, even if Season 1 eludes me!
“Love is rare,” says Peoples Jewellers in its current TV commercial for diamond engagement rings.
After about a week of semi-obsessively watching 90-Day Fiancé on TLC, I think they might be onto something.
There’s a part of me that looks at the women and men who have chosen to appear on this show, and gets it. And the other part wants to give their heads a shake. I met my partner online. And my ex-husband. And the guy I briefly dated a few months before I met my ex. I dislike the bar scene and I am an introvert with occasional extroverted tendencies. I chose to look for love online for the same reasons anyone else does, I suppose.
I think I’d have to know someone longer than mere weeks or a couple of months before I offer to sponsor them from overseas for a K-1 visa. I already know what my parents’ reaction would be if I ever asked them to take on that role for ten years after my wedding. “Hell no!” would be putting it mildly. Then there’s the whole basis for the relationship in the first place. The physical chemistry may be off the charts, but it’s no indicator that the guy or the woman of your dreams has a work ethic, or a healthy sense of spousal responsibility, or even wants children. Learning those things about another person takes time, and we all know our share of people who never show their true colours until the ink is barely dry on the marriage certificate, or quite often many years later.
At the same time, it’s important to acknowledge the impact of loneliness on a person’s overall health and well-being. A former Surgeon General of the U.S. backs the claim that chronic loneliness is as damaging as smoking 15 cigarettes a day, making it even more dangerous than obesity. It’s sobering stuff.
I don’t have a crystal ball and I couldn’t tell you which of the couples on the current season of 90-Day Fiancé will get their happy ending. I can’t fault Annie for her dislike of living in a storage unit. I’d be super-pissed if I was Chantel and found out that my husband was sending money that should be supporting us back to his home country so that his mother and sister get to have a better life than we do. A rocky relationship is a thousand times worse when there are children involved; the negative impact on them goes without saying. Nicole encouraging her toddler daughter to call Azan “Daddy” when he fundamentally isn’t her father sets my hair on edge, especially when you consider that the adults have behaved badly towards each other and frankly Nicole seems to want the relationship more than Azan does.
Okay okay, I’m hopping off my soap box now.
What have you or a loved one done in pursuit of love? Feel free to post a comment (the usual rules of civility apply, please and thanks).