There was a lovely story in Sunday’s New York Times. I laughed out loud when I got to the part where the author wrote, “my mother used to track me down in the event of my untimely murder; lord knows she has imagined plenty of gruesome ends for me. I can’t tell you the number of times that public safety officers showed up on my doorstep in college because I hadn’t returned her calls swiftly enough.”
She could have been writing about my mother.
While she never went so far as to call the police, she did manage to convince a friend of mine to become a search party of one. She (my mother) was convinced — because I’d been working late and was alone in the office — that I’d either been attacked, killed and shoved into the coat closet or was lying helpless, bloody and injured at the bottom of the elevator shaft, the result of an accident involving snapped cables. Yes, Continue reading →
I saw this in last Sunday’s New York Times. It made me laugh out loud and it was too good, and too funny, not to share. It was written by Julia Shiplett, who’s a comedian and writer. Tell me, how many of these excuses seem familiar. Come on, be honest.
As you may have noticed (or maybe not), I am trying desperately to steer clear of writing about U.S. politics. Aside from the fact that it’s stressful and aggravating, there doesn’t seem to be any point to it. It changes nothing.
Hence all my recent trips down memory lane.
Sadly, though, even if I am trying my best to remain silent on the subject, no one else is.
There doesn’t seem to be any escaping “45”, his (insert swear word here) family, his cronies, his partners in crime, his sycophants, his tweets and Continue reading →
Last Tuesday Kathy Griffin (an American comedian) posted a video of herself holding a fake, bloodied, decapitated Donald Trump head. But much as I detest him (and his cohorts) and everything they’ve said, done and stand for, I did not find it at all amusing.
Frankly, I’ve never been a fan of hers. I don’t find her particular brand of humour even remotely funny. Definitely not my cup of tea.
… as a kid I was painfully shy. I didn’t walk beside my mother, I crept along behind her. And if I could have crawled under her skirt, I would happily have done so. Seriously. For that matter I wasn’t a particularly outgoing adult for much of my life either.
Hard to believe when you look at this photo, I know, but it’s true.
I still get clammy palms when I think back to the first time I was part of a major creative presentation, to a major client. Huge client, presenting to the president and CEO and I was new to the account and the agency. Hell, I was new to Toronto.
That’s me in the photograph. I was a first time flower girl; and it was one of my great uncles who was getting married. He was only 15 months older than my mother.
Can you imagine? The uncle and the niece were probably in diapers at the same time. It’s unsettling enough to think of your parents having sex, but your grandparents. And your great grandparents. Good God!
You will never know how much I hated that dress. It was tulle, but it was rough and scratchy, and it felt like I was encased in barbed wire. For most of the night I squirmed and twitched like I was possessed. And when we finally got Continue reading →
A friend and I were talking about New York the other day. I’ve been there hundreds of times over the course of my lifetime, but I had an instant flashback to one trip, in particular.
I was with my parents, my aunt and cousin. I was young, not yet a teenager. But not as young as I am in the photo with my parents. I was probably a year old, two at the most in this shot.
My parents and I used to go to New York every spring, for easter, for about a week or 10 days. My father went often for business, but as a family we went once a year, although occasionally more often. My mother was born there and Continue reading →
It’s a miracle, I tell you. Believe it or not, the frying pan you see in this photo, is exactly the same frying pan that occupied this same space last week. In case you don’t remember, click here. Except last week it was charred beyond recognition. And here it is again, good as new.
I’d given it up for dead immediately. Then a few friends shared a secret “recipe” with me:
“Put some dish soap and water in the pan,” they said. “Then put one of those Bounce dryer sheets on top. Put the pan on the burner, turn on the stove, give it about a half hour — et voila!”
“And make sure you watch the damn pan this time!!!”
Except I don’t have any Bounce dryer sheets. I don’t use them because I can’t Continue reading →
… except this time it was me who was fiddling — with a blog post — and not paying attention to the frying pan on the stove. The All-Clad pan. I was cooking (obviously) and the recipe called for caramelized onions. They turned out fine, you’ll be happy to know.
It was after they were done that I ran into a problem. Because I’m lazy, I usually put some dish soap into the pan I’ve used, add water and put it back on to the stove briefly, just to loosen up all the bits so it’s easier to clean.
That’s what I did this time. It usually just takes a few minutes.
But inspiration struck. I got an idea for my next Huff Post blog. I’d been struggling with the idea all day. I couldn’t take the chance that I’d lose it, while I watched the pan. The heat was turned down very low, and all I wanted to do Continue reading →