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Oh Danny Boy!

I am teaching myself to play piano and am now learning the song Danny Boy, and it instantly reminded me of a incident that was quite hilarious. Whenever I play or hear this song, I have a partner in my head. An old lady at the library.

At lunch when I was working, I would often go to the library. I usually had quite a few books on hold to pick up and an equal amount to return.

One day as I entered the library I spotted a woman I used to know from a previous job at a senior’s center. She had been a member there.

So I approached her to say hello.

It was noon, so the library entrance was filled with patrons and staff.

This lady remembered me, I think, but she had other things on her mind. She asked me if I knew where she could get the lyrics and music score for the song Danny Boy. I pointed to the information desk and suggested she ask them.

She grabbed my arm and said, “Do you know the song Danny Boy?”

Before I could say a word, she launched into singing Danny Boy, at the top of her lungs to a very surprised crowd and a very shocked me.

Everyone stopped what they were doing. I think time stopped. She dug her fingers into my arm so I could not escape.

There were baffled looks. Amused looks. Angry looks. So many looks directed at us.

She sang the WHOLE damn song, full blast, TWICE.

And then she just walked away from me, my bruised arm and audience like it never happened.

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Iron Steam

Because my Dad was an Engineer, inventor, handy man and all round creative person, we often had some interesting things in our home.

We had a basement that was really a workshop, an inventors palace. Oh, how I miss that!

One item housed there was a white metal monster, an iron steam roller. Not the kind to flatten your laneway. This flattened your clothes. It was a steam press. It was BIG.

Isn’t it strangely comforting that such weird things as an unwieldly machine can evoke such sweet memories of our youth and home?

It was awesome.

I loved using that machine. I hate ironing, so this thing was a teenagers dream (in those days pressed clothes were a BIG deal), My Mom pressed everything however, and that was a bit overwhelming. Like me, many of my childhood friends had mothers who ironed their underware, some even their shoelaces! Well, my Mom just ran them through the white behemoth in the basement while others slaved and sweated over hot irons.

These beasts still exist, and work! If I were ever to take up domestic engineering (no future plans for that!) I would get a modern steam press. But there is something wonderful lost in the new ones. I’d miss the big cotton cloth roller, the gleaming metal press, those long metal bars to hang your clothes on. The joy of seeing your clothes disappear under the steel cover as they were rolled away to reappear underneath all beautifully pressed.

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Something New

It is amazing how good one can feel when you get something new.

I got a new couch cover, thanks to a Christmas gift certificate from my brother and sister-in-law. My couch is done, but I am unemployed, and a good couch costs a month or two of rent. The previous cover was easily 20+ years old and although well taken care of was clearly quite tired.

There was only one time in my life when I was making good money and could afford new things, but I’ve always been frugal and make things last. I repurpose a lot of items and make do. So, foolishly, I did not take advantage of that small window of 8 years in my long life and get myself some nice things. Like a house. A car. All I splurged on was a professional camera, and, oh, how I agonized over that! I did a lot of research before I finally let go of the cash. That was in the 1970’s. I still have that camera!

I am whining a bit too much, because those frugal 8 years afforded me to go to University and get a Bachelor of Arts. So it wasn’t all bad I suppose. But I should have got some nice things too. Had I known I would never make much money again, I would have done things a bit differently. But you just can’t know these things.

I confess this with much shame, and remorse, because I have missed out on a lot of life.

I put on the new cover and my whole spirit lifted. What a difference! Getting something new improves your life. It doesn’t matter what it is. It’ll make a grey day sunny.

Now you know I would never encourage you to spend money you don’t have, but I have said it over and over, get yourself something ‘just because’, and now I say, get yourself something new because it will brighten your whole day.

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Permission Granted

Oh the burden of being an adult! So many important things to do. Important things I hate doing, that I feel I must do. Be a responsible adult stuff.

I am deep in the throes of such adult non-entertainment when my cat throws his favourite toy up into the air and starts a frantic play time.

Do I sit and scowl this time? Like so many other times?

Or do I take the invitation to play and join him? Hell yes!

So we run around the apartment in a merry chase until he tells me he’s had enough.

I know you’ve got that toy!

I am busy doing more adult crap when I see the sun is setting. Do I just take note of it this time? No. I make myself comfortable on the couch and watch the whole sun set episode, and when it is dark, I tune into the dark channel, the city lights and traffic and watch that for an hour.

Sometimes I just sit and watch joyous things until my face hurts from smiling so much.

I used to be so busy. So serious. I had my priorities all screwed up. I did tons of what I dislike and had a miniscule amount of joy. Never stopped to have joy for no reason. Joy is its own reason.

I wasted so much of my life making others happy and/or rich.

Now I play with cat.

Now I play my piano and flute.

I’m not a very impressive cat.

Now I just be silly.

Permission granted.

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In Praise of Fruit Cakes

The kind you eat, not the massive amount of nut jobs that have come out from the cracks in 2020.

My friend reminded me that fruit cakes have been maligned without cause. I agree. I love fruit cake. It has so much bad stuff in it, you get your chemical fix and load for an entire year! Not to mention calories.

It is not surprising that the amount of bad in something is equal to the deliciousness of the item. The more yummy it is, the worse it is for you. But it is only once in the entire year. So if you like fruit cake, indulge!

I bought my bit of sinful eating yesterday; dark with marzipan icing. But I will eat just about any kind of fruit cake.

One year, when I was younger (seems like most things now have that qualifier!) a friend made fruit cake with rum in it, unbeknown to my young self. I ate the entire thing and felt pretty damn warm and good the whole Christmas evening. But I’ve never done it again. I am quite happy with non-alcoholic versions of fruit cake. There is already enough bad in there!

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One Thing

2020 has been a hell of a year.

But one thing will not change.

The Christmas spirit.

Even though we cannot be together this year to celebrate and spend too much and eat too much, the spirit of Christmas remains. It is not dependent on religion, commercialism, the date or even the cat. It comes from our hearts and it never fails. Well, maybe the cat too.

I started to get the Christmas spirit a few weeks ago, and it wasn’t because the stores are playing Christmas music and have special holiday themed gifts to buy. It isn’t because of lawn ornaments and decorations and lights. I am quite sure I could be in the middle of nowhere and still experience this wonderful feeling.

Thank God I have it, because the rest of the year wreaked havoc on us all.

A little bit of table top Christmas cheer.

The tree top star was appropriately absconded by cat. Perfect ending for 2020.

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In Praise of Farts

You can count on one thing when you get old; your farts will not be contained.

They will be heard, and heard loudly. They will smell, and smell badly. They love to have an audience, are sneaky, and can guarantee you will have plenty of space in Aisle 13 at Walmart.

I praise farts because they feel so good. Why some of our less desirable bodily functions feel so good I do not know, but they do. And why humans have to be so noisy and smelly is a mystery, but some animals can out do us on both counts. All animals react the same way to encountering a fart as humans; pleasure for the farter, disgust from the rest of us.

My cat Sam doesn’t fart. He fluffs. Cats are dignified about such matters.

Farts are like having a trumpet at your rear end. They are smelly music. They make us laugh and cry.

So I will end this shitty year with a signature fart, it is befitting for all the crap we’ve endured in 2020.

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Bug on My Shoe

While out for a walk, this fellow hitched a ride on my shoe for a spell, so I gently escorted him to finer places; to a bit of grass and shade on a beautiful fall day.

These bugs have been plentiful this autumn, out on my balcony sunning themselves. They lumber around at a leisurely pace, and seem to have some difficulty flying, but once they are air borne manage quite well.

I believe they are Assassin Bugs. My biology education fails me, but it doesn’t matter. I’d rather not know to tell the truth. I prefer things to be a mystery. Once you name them and find out about them they lose some appeal. Especially when you discover their not so nice qualities.

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Just Because 2020

Every year I get myself a ‘Just Because’ gift for my Birthday and Christmas combined. This year was a bit more difficult to indulge a pleasure; I’ve been out of work since June, so money is tight. It’ll stay tight until Covid is gone or my books start to sell.

But, I do have a whimsical and cheap little desire that was easily fulfilled this week, just in time.

I’ve always had a little girl weakness for glitter, sparkle and rhinestones and such things are plentiful as we near Christmas. So I happily bought a gaudy $6 pin from the local drug store.

Last year I bought a snowflake. I had better taste last year. This year a nutcracker caught my eye.

As you can see, he is a strange little fellow, rather odd expression don’t you think? However, I thought very befitting for 2020. 2020 has been a topsy turvy crazy insane weird year, so he is a perfect tribute to it. He is not cute or pretty, just like 2020. But he has some glam, so I hope 2021 does.

Usually such purchases languish in the box and I never wear them, but I’ll make an exception for my ugly little friend here so I can have some cheer every time I put him on.

Cheers to my ‘Just Because’ gift that brings me an unusual bit of amusement in a year I so desperately need a laugh.

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On the Beach

I was reminded of an incident that happened so long ago I am not sure if it happened where I think it happened, but does that matter? Nope.

This is one of my favourite pictures of Mom and I, from who knows when, certainly when I was a lot younger. A lot younger.

However, I do remember it was taken at the New Jersey Boardwalk. We were visiting my very generous brother, who was always giving us vacations to places in the United States. I am very grateful. Thank you!

Apart from the fabulous salt water taffy, the million and one things to see and do at the Jersey shore, there is, of course, the ocean.

I am a certified water baby, so my main delight is in H2O, thus I liked to be near the ocean or in it. I can’t remember if this was my first encounter with the ocean, not my last for sure.

I think it was here that I was wandering along the edge of the water, ankle deep, and then gradually, got more interested in going deeper, and deeper and . . .

I got sucked up by a wave that was quite a bit bigger than myself, and pulled under. I got caught in the undertow and violently spun over like a jelly roll and spit out, like some bad tasting fish, hurled up on the beach, and deposited, while absolutely no one took notice. In fact, people walked around me, quite possibly, even over me.

I was quite battered and it took days to expel all the salt out of my ears, and elsewhere.

I was admonished to turn into the next wave that over powered me, but to tell the truth, I never went back in the ocean again. I’ll walk on the beach, maybe get my toes wet. That is enough.