Happy Hannukah!

If my dad were still alive, and if my parents had stuck it out this far (which is more than likely, were he still alive), they would have been married 62 years today. Oh my god. That doesn’t seem possible somehow. As it is, they made it to 54 before he died, and that in itself is rather amazing.

My mother has taken to calling me quite frequently. It’s easy. Her phone has a bunch of pre-programmed buttons that dial my and my brothers’ respective telephone numbers, so it’s just a matter of remembering that and then figuring out which is the right one and lo! we’re connected. When she calls, it’s usually just to chat, but today she wanted my in-laws’ coordinates so she could thank them for the Christmas card they sent her; this in spite of the fact that Little Princess gave them to her yesterday. After I hung up, Hubby commented that every conversation I have with her seems to be the same thing: I am constantly reminding her of where I live, yes, she’s been here to visit many times, my children are living in her city except they’re home for the holidays now, etc. Still, I should be happy that she’s more alert than she was.

It is effing cold here. The thermometer hanging inside the kitchen said it was only 12°C when I was boiling water for my tea this morning. Outside it is -20°C or so and every time Hubby or Buddy Boy opened the front door looking for the Sunday paper (which still hasn’t arrived) I would feel the cold air all the way into the back of the house. I stepped onto the deck to fill the feeder (the poor cardinals and chickadees kept investigating its emptiness) and the dryness was what got me, the squeak of the snow beneath my bedroom slippers and the way it makes your nostrils freeze shut.

Hubby, Little Princess and I drove home late last night from Sutt0n (where Hubby’s trio had a gig), the car thermometer registering the outside air at -24°C, and I remarked that at times like this I was glad I wasn’t a woodland creature needing to find shelter from the extreme cold and looking for food in the wild. The restaurant where they played has mostly windows for walls, and I was only warm during my two hot flashes. Otherwise I had my coat draped over my shoulders the whole evening.

We had eaten before we left the house, but my stomach was still growling and when Kevin’s girlfriend ordered dinner, I also ordered soup and a salad. The soup was only tiède (which means lukewarm en français) and I refused to eat it. Kevin wasn’t so particular, but I insisted that the waiter heat it up, which he did, bringing it back piping hot. It was delicious. We three girls also ordered pie for dessert (sugar for the GF, strawberry-rhubarb for Little Princess, and field berry for me) and the waiter totally forgot about us. It got to the point where my daughter was miming eating pie and we started drawing pictures of pie on our placemats. The waiter suddenly perked up, came over and extended his wrist for us to slap, and then brought us our desserts.

Today Hubby and I have tree buying on our agenda. I really don’t want to go out there.

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