Monday, December 12, 2005

I Love This Book

Though I did enjoy "The Piano Man's Daughter," I had always dismissed Timothy Findley as a pretentious literary snot.
Then I read this book.
It's about how he and his partner moved to an old farmhouse in Ontario, and spent 30 years making it their home, and their adventures doing so. They shared their home with many pets, and turned one of the old barns on their property into a heated shelter for stray cats, feeding them, and even getting the stray cats fixed.
He sounds like he was a very nice man. I wish I had a neighbor like him, instead of the man with the noisy truck that wakes up my two year-old.

PMS-ing And Craving One Of These

I make pretty good cinnamon buns, but nothing, NOTHING beats Cinnabon. I wish there was one in Moncton.

Men Are Pigs

And it starts very early on. My two year-old son's favourite thing in the whole world right now is flatulence. He likes it even more than candy and Barney. His favourite book is "Walter The F*rting Dog." My preferred term is "toot." Someone recently taught him the other word. Now, no matter where he is or who he is with, when he toots, he gleefully announces, "I f*arted!" And laughs and laughs. The sad thing is, he'll never stop thinking it's funny, not even when he's 50 and a professor/doctor/judge/Prime Minister of Canada. I'm glad I'm a girl, because men are pigs.

Car Pig

My ex-husband is a car pig. We shared three vehicles over several years, and they were always filthy and full of junk. It was natural to assume it was all his fault, because he is an all-around utter slob.
My father once couldn't stand it anymore, and cleaned out our van. He filled two large garbage bags with Tim Hortons cups, McDonald's bags and wrappers, and all kinds of crap. The worst though, was the time my ex found a mouse living in the van.
I got a new car two or three months ago. I vowed this time it would be different, because my ex would never be in this car.
I cleaned it yesterday. I half-filled a garbage bag with all the trash in it. I also had to scrub away at the place under the cup holder, because I left a McDonald's paper cup of Coke in it for about two weeks. It leaked all over it, and dried into a sticky, caramel-coloured mess with a bunch of change stuck in it.
It appears that I, too, am a car pig.

Comfort Food

My mother can't cook. She overcooks EVERYTHING because she's afraid of e-coli and salmonella. The only thing I ever really liked that she made was her beef stew. Now, I make it myself. It's really tasty, and simple. It's just stewing beef, potatoes, carrots, a couple of onions, and some rutabaga in plain water, no herbs or seasonings, left to simmer all day. The meat comes out melt- in -your- mouth tender, the potatoes fall apart, and when you walk in the door on a cold day, and that smell hits you...heaven! A plate of this, with the potatoes mashed into the broth with lots of butter is about the best comfort food I've ever had.