Visiting the Queen

We went to Daughter's version of Graceland over the weekend: Napanee.

Daughter is a huuuuuge fan of Avril Lavigne and has always wondered when we'd go visit Husband's aunt and uncle who live there. However, we'd see them when they'd visit Husband's grandmother in Toronto – kind of like meeting half-way, you know?

But now that Gramma moved to Napanee, we made plans to go visit. And Daughter promptly mapped out all the places she wanted to go while we were there: Avril's favourite pizzaria, the church she sang at, the Home Hardware to get a shirt like she wore on Saturday Night Live, her school, etc.

We stopped to visit friends along the way (they took me to this thrift store where you buy records by the pound) and despite that Husband's friend had made a cannon that shot potatoes, Daughter couldn't wait to get moving.

It was such a long drive that Husband needed to pull off the road and rest his eyes a bit. I couldn't take over because I was just as tired. Of course, neither of us could really rest with the nagging in the back seat. "We're so clooooose! Daaaaaad!"

As we were finding Gramma's new home, we passed La Pizzeria, home of the Avril Lavigne pizza (which, Daughter informed us, wouldn't be what she'd eat now because Avril is a vegetarian). The "Oh my gaaawwwds" started there, pretty much. We ate there after a quick visit with Gramma (who rushed us out a bit - in a polite way - because she had a euchre game) and Husband's aunt and youngest cousin met us there.

And it really was excellent pizza. Everyone had one pizza but Daughter had to have the Avril Special (green olives, mushrooms and pepperoni, despite that Daughter hasn't acquired the taste for olives yet).

Auntie J told Daughter that she should ask the owner for a tour. "He's a really nice man. I'm sure he wouldn't mind." And he didn't. Daughter was allowed behind the scenes, got lots of photos taken (Avril memorabilia everywhere) and was given a notebook to write her favourite rock star a personal message. Apparently, when Avril is back in town (or was it when her parents go to visit her?) the notebook is presented.

Daughter had to do two things more. The first was when we first came in to the restaurant and no other customers were there: Daughter sat in every chair so she could say she sat where Avril sat. The second thing had to do with sitting too. She went to the bathroom. "I know I got the same bathroom she used," Daughter exclaimed. "There's only one toilet in the girl's room!"

Anyway, we had a great time and ended up sleeping in a retirement home. It wasn't bad at all. For $50 a room (we took two), we were given nice beds with full bathrooms, satellite TV and even a walk-out to the Napanee River. The rooms were on the activities floor so no one else was there. If we weren't such a big family, Husband's aunt could have taken us in but there's so much up at their farm that trigger my allergies, I would be better off sleeping on the main road.

Gramma is doing very well. I swear, the woman has so much courage. She's a born and bred Torontonian but moved to an assisted living place out in Eastern Ontario because she wanted to look out to nature rather than, oh, Bathurst Street or a brick wall. And her new home is really, really nice. I've seen lots of these places, tagging along with Husband when he makes house calls (yes, he still does). Gramma's home is one of the best, if not the creme de la creme. Even their food smelled great. AND they plated it!

The boys had the best time ever at Auntie J's farm. Auntie J's whole family was there, including her 4-year-old granddaughter who led my kids everywhere. I'm still picking hay out of everything. They caught all sorts of insects, played with the animals, dug in the dirt (I got a hazelnut tree!) and slept divinely on the way home.

It was such a great trip, by everyone's account. My only downside was when I almost drank a housefly. I made tea in the farmhouse (a swell abode built in the mid-1800s). I don't know if the fly was already dead in the cup or if I smothered it with the teabag and drowned it with hot water. I was drinking the very last bit (I'm dry-heaving as I type this, mmmlleck) when I got a small clump rolling around my tongue. Initially, I thought it was a sugar lump that didn't disintegrate but, rolling it on my upper palate now, I realized that wasn't it. Maybe a bit of twig? I discretely pushed it out past my lips when I saw it was a fucking housefly. I spat out the tea in my mouth back into the cup, dumped everything in the sink and went outside toward the barn wanting to barf but couldn't.

I still want to barf just thinking about it. And I may never drink tea again. On the way home, we stopped at an apple orchard. While Husband and the kids went to get 20 lbs. of royal galas, I fished through the overnight bag and gargled with mouthwash for as long as I could. Something like that would drive Baby Sister and The Artist Formerly Known As Sunshine to boil their tongues or get a colonic or something. Am I right?

Baby, Baby, Don't Get Hooked On Me

I think Husband wants to have another baby.

Since spending some time with The World's Easiest Baby (TM) a couple of weeks ago, he's mentioned, in passing, that it would be great to have another baby. Okay, he didn't say that in so many words but his comments over the days ranged from:

- You look so sweet holding babies, Jen.

- Do you miss the times when the kids were that little?

- Oh, you don't want to eat? Are you nauseous? Do you think you're pregnant?

- I'm still young. I would still have the energy for a bigger family.

And my favourite:

- Nothing is foolproof. We can change the plumbing, if you're game. I wouldn't mind. (Because, without saying the word, the only way I could get up the pole now is if I bumped uglies with another guy, if you catch my drift.)

Would I mind having another baby? Oooohhhh, I so would.

Frankly, my younger husband probably does have the energy for a bigger family, but I don't. I'm still tired from going to a drink-up with a bunch of 26-year-old friends on Saturday.

No More Acoustic Motorbike

Waaaahhhh! Someone stole my bike!

It happened in a rainstorm very, very late on Sunday night. What slays me is that the thief didn't take the others' newer, more expensive bikes, nor did they take any tools. Just my crappy bike with a dented rear wheel that was completely flat. AND they had to move the said more expensive bikes out of the way to get my bike.

Lots of people steal bikes around here for meth money. Good luck trying to sell mine.

Pox on your family, fucker! The bike was a piece of crap, but I loved it!

All three kids are pukey sick today. I blame the A & W dinner their dad bought them last night.

And my grandmother's surgery went a-okay!

Very Superstitious

If my grandmother wasn't having surgery tomorrow, I wouldn't be so rattled by the three chain e-letters I received today.

You know the sort: blah, blah, blah, God is great, here's an angel for you, now be strong enough to pass on this letter to eight of your friends in eight minutes and a miracle will happen tomorrow. Or something like that. Chain letters suck. It's proliferated by superstitious people, I say. Maybe my sense of spirituality is skewed but I believe in preordination or karma or whatever. If you knew the story of how Husband and I met, you'd know why I think this way.

I saw my grandmother at The World's Easiest Baby's (TM) christening on the weekend. She seemed to be in good spirits but one could tell she was worried none-the-less. I mean, how else do you read her sighs of, "Whatever happens, at least I saw this little one's baptism."

My grandmother is one strong dame. She's still very "with it" in her head and in her body. She stays active. She gets out with friends. She still lives in her own home. And you would SO be on her shit list if you called when "The Young and the Restless" is on. I believe she has strength on a different layer, knowing how she lived her life and the tough situations she maneuvered with aplomb. Case in point: she knew she had to learn to speak and read English because my grandfather was in the army and got moved around quite a bit. So she picked up some Beano comics and started from there. That story never gets old!

Simply put, I can't imagine life without her. I know it will happen one day, but I'm not ready for that. Will I ever?

My mum and my aunts (and cousin C) were there at the christening. I don't know if they were just enjoying the day or if they were taking it as it comes, but they seemed very relaxed and happy. I think I can safely assume that they are as tense as I am, if not more, but seeing them laugh and having a good time made for a day of happy memories.

Anyway, I didn't pass on the chain letters. I figured my grandmother herself would say it's a load of crap to believe in their threats.

Jitters?

I don't know if it's because today is the first day of school but I had the shittiest sleep last night (note the time stamp here).

I woke up twice because of bad dreams. One I was revisiting a murder scene. It was really creepy. I was walking down an alley but it looked like a country road. I was spooked because the murder was never solved. The other one centred around a white rat that daughter found. It was pretty large and was either dead or was dying. So, uh, she put it beside me on my bed while I read and the kids played around the bed. I was about ready to call it a night when I looked down at the rat and noticed her eyes were blinking and she was having babies. Baby Boy said, "Yeah, it is. I just saw two of the babies on the floor." Then the little dark grey rabbit MIddle Sister had in university chased after the baby mice but they escaped in the corner of the wall. So Daughter and I took the rabbit and put it outside, but I felt like a dolt because I thought I took the rat.

Bad dreams for me often foretell bad times up ahead. Again, maybe I'm just uptight about the first day of school. I don't know why. The kids are dying to get back to it.