A Hairy Lent?

As you may have read I had decided to stop shaving my legs this winter. When Lent came along and everyone was giving up this and giving up that I jokingly said that I was giving up shaving my legs for Lent.  Well the weather forecast for the next three days is 20, 26, and 27! I might have to find my shorts, except that, I have an impressive crop of hair on my legs. I mean I couldn’t believe just how hairy legs can get, and we aren’t even gonna mention my pits!

So you see my dilemma. I said I wasn’t shaving my legs for lent because I knew it wouldn’t effect me in any way, and it amused me to tell people. Now it seems that it will indeed effect me.

Options are…

1. Shave cause I was only kidding?

2.Wear long pants and be hot?

3. Wear short and hairily praise God?

Why do these things always happen to me?

So we were moving Kat from Belleville to Ottawa. Charles and I are in the truck pulling a trailer and Chuck and Dan are in the toy behind us, and Kat behind them in her car. They were about ten minutes behind us on highway 7. All of a sudden I saw a cop at the side of the road, so I texted Chuck to tell him. I text “cop”

He says “What? Who is this?”

I smirk but type “mom”

He says “Do you know who you’re talking to?”

I roll my eyes, oh those crazy boys, I laugh, but sure I’ll bite.”Ok Who are you?”

He says “I am Mustafa”

Hahahahaha Charles and I laugh. Man you can’t put two Gale boys in the same vehicle for an hour without them being stupid, and they spelled Mufasa wrong. Tools

I say”I hope you get a ticket”

He says “WHO IS THIS F***”

Well, I think, that’s a bit rude. Charles says “Do you have the right number?” “Of course says I. I pushed the button that says Chas.”

Hmmmm I check the Chas button and it’s his old phone number!! Turns out that Virgin reassigns old phone numbers. Somewhere there’s a guy named Mustafa who has declared a fatwa on “mom”

A winter of hairiness

All spring and summer I dutifully scrape the hair off of my legs. Then every year, in the fall, I get bored with the whole shaving my legs process. So this year I wondered what would happen if I just stopped shaving for the whole winter.

First thing is the itch. The legs get itchy as the hair starts to get a bit longer. Then the itch stops as the the hair gets really long, but every time I saw my legs I was surprised cause that much hair in an unexpected place is shocking.

But now they are getting itchy again. I keep thinking I should really shave them cause they are grossing me out, but I am a woman of deep commitment who is determined to not shave her legs for the whole winter! I am making a hairy statement! However, when I have a hot flash I think I’d be cooler if I shaved them. But still…

Picture this

We went to Pembroke this past weekend. While we were there Gramma and I started looking at old pictures. Oh man, what fun. I borrowed an old album from when the Gale kids were little. I brought it home and scanned the pictures into the computer so that I could enjoy them forever. Pictures of Grampa and Orville and Wally, group shots of the whole family, kids in front of a Christmas tree, a  striking shot of Gramma at 15 years old, hair blowing in the breeze, another one of her in a lovely purple pants suit with her hair all seventied up. Too much fun. Great, great pictures.

There is group shot where Charles doesn’t have his glasses on. You may not know this cause he always has his glasses on but but Charles has the most stunning eyes. They are strikingly beautiful. Amazing. There is one picture with Charles and Brian and Deb, cause there were only three then, and they look almost exactly the same as Charlie and Bobby at that age. Such fun.

It was fun sitting there looking back into the past. And I noticed that the photo album smelled like Gramma’s house. You know that warm, comforting smell that feels like a Gramma hug? I guess that and all the pictures made me spend the night in the seventies. Drama. Intrigue. Starsky and Hutch dreams. It was a fun sleep. Book ‘em Dano!

Here I sit broken hearted, paid a dime and only farted

Here I sit, sigh, trying to decide what to do. just before Christmas i had to wean off of my meds to go on to another type, but as i got off of them I felt just fine. So PC and I decided to stay off of the new meds and just take it one day at a time. I’ve been fine for a very long time, but….well…PC said this morning that maybe it’s time to start the new ones.

I just don’t know, though. I’ve been sick for three weeks with a cold. I’ve broken a tooth and had to have it repaired, had a horrible panic attack in the dental chair which still makes me tear up as I write, and I’m totally behind in everything I have to do. Maybe it’s just life making me crazy and sad. How will I ever know the difference? I hate this so much. What do the sane people do?

Oh well, maybe I’ll just wait  through the weekend and see. I don’t wanna do drugs anymore. I just don’t.

I’m being followed by a moon shadow

I could not sleep last night for the life of me. I wandered around, went to the bathroom, knitted, got a drink of water. I meditated, and prayed. I was in and out of bed a bunch of times. It was actually a lovely night except for the not sleeping thing.

It finally occurred to me that it was the fault of the moon, a moon so full and bright that it was almost like day light outside. I wandered over to the window to give that moon a stern talking to, but when I looked up at him through the empty trees I was stunned into silence by the beauty of the moon light shining through the millions of diamonds frozen to the bare branches. It was beautiful.

Aaahhhhhh boxing day

 

Well we had Christmas with the Gales. It was lovely. We had to get Bob home so he could work today. Luckily the bad weather held off until to day. Lots of fun. Lots of rum. Off to the theater tonight to see Scrooge. I’m excited. Hope the weather clears up.

Took lots of cousin pictures so I could make a cousin quilt. Bob wouldn’t smile without giving me the finger. Then the rest of them started doing the same. Ya nothing says we miss you than a quilt covered in pictures of your cousins giving you the finger.