Setting the Bar High

 Me thinking I need to get a post done before I leave for bar night and then reading Sarah's post about adult friendships and thinking "yes! I will post ABOUT bar night". I probably have already, but I have no memory and I know many of you do not either, so pretend this is the first time.

One of the biggest strokes of luck my husband and I had in life was moving to Ottawa and getting connected with a group of friends through his company who then all had kids within the same few years. At some point when the kids were five or so we all looked around at each other and realized that, for better or worse, and barring a few things that we will never all agree on, we were now tied together for life. 

We don't have a lot of family around - had none before my parents moved here - but we've always had a strong support group. We all watched each other's kids when we went to the hospital to have the next kids. We helped build decks and hot tubs and install floors and construct big-boy beds (I'm using 'we' to mean a group of people that usually didn't include 'me', but you get the idea). When the massive, cascading power outage that was the 2003 blackout happened and Matt was stuck in Chicago and I was at home with a three year old and a baby, we went over to Collette's and she fed us all dinner (Eve had a Farley biscuit in her bouncy seat) and tried to get Angus to sleep over (he didn't want to) and Mark dug out a flashlight for me to take home because the only one I had looked like a bear and growled whenever I turned it on. 

Years ago ... I guess probably around fifteen? I said to Collette "do people ever just, like, go for a drink in real life? Like not going out drinking or whatever, but just going for a drink? Because I never just go for a drink. Should we go for a drink?" A few days later she called me on her way home from somewhere and said she was in the car with no makeup on and dressed very casually but we could meet for a drink at a pub near our houses. So I went.

We kept doing this every so often, and then we invited more people from the group, and gradually it became a thing. We had to work it around soccer nights etc. and I think it used to be Wednesday nights maybe, but I'm not sure. I usually couldn't stay too late because Eve was fine staying home with Angus but she didn't really like going to bed when we weren't home yet, which was fine. My usual back then was usually one pint of Stella, and there were fifty cent wings.

Covid lockdown, bar night online

Covid less-locked-down-but-still-social-distancing, bar night outside

That place was called Johnny Canucks and we went there every week until it closed. It took us a while to find a new place - we tried three or four, and either the service was terrible or there was loud live music or it just didn't feel right. We finally settled on a Broadway Bar and Grill - there are two nearby, and one was terrible and the other was acceptable. The best feature is probably that there is a big round table for us, and we have a standing 7:15 reservation for Tuesday evenings - our waitress has actually made people move if they were accidentally seated there before we arrived. A round table makes a world of difference when you're a group of ten or so (depending on how many people make it out) - everybody can talk to everybody and you don't get stuck in pockets of whoever you're sitting directly beside.

In theory I am wildly grateful for this tradition and cherish it utterly. In practice I often have a love/petulance relationship with it. As soon as the fall time change hits and it's dark in the evenings I find it so difficult to make myself leave the house at seven. Putting a bra back on is actual agony. The vast majority of the time I force myself, and am always extremely happy I did. There are multiple studies (sort of superfluous, but it's good to have it reinforced scientifically) about the benefits of having strong friendships, especially ones that generate laughter, and, well, we are a bunch of goofy idiots who never met a ridiculous thought that we hesitated to say out loud, so the laughter is plentiful. 

People have come straight from the airport after overseas flights. People have come after being in the hospital overnight with kidney stones. We have been through parental death, child health scares, surgical procedures, house and property damage, and - worse - renovations.

And of course if you can't make it, you are met with grace and understanding.

Strange at the Bazaar

My daughter has had a gift for acquiring really cool, fun, quirky, interesting, talented friends who come with the added value of cool, fun, quirky, interesting, talented moms who then have become my friends, like when you buy a bottle of liquor that comes with a tiny bottle of other liquor attached to its neck. So Davis (smart, cute as fuck, amazing singing voice) came with Jody (smart, cute as fuck, good at riding horses and swearing), and when our daughters fucked off for parts unknown at least I had Jody to hang around and sob with.

Saturday was our fifth annual pilgrimage to the One World Bazaar. You know, one of those outfits that claims to 'work with artisans all over the world' and, now that I examine the whole thing more closely, are likely exploiting makers in developing countries, shit. Okay, I did a modicum of research and it does claim to operate on a fair trade model and develop long-term relationships. Hmmm.

Okay, putting my white guilt away again. There is pottery, clothing, furniture, linens, a bunch of weird stuff, and there are a lot of ducks. The first year I really wanted to buy a duck but I did not, and I regretted it. The next year I did buy a duck. The year after, I bought another duck.

They have boots! Flowered and polka-dotted! They make me happy. I usually find cool stocking-stuffer things for the kids also - there was a cool baseball player made out of repurposed wires and screws that Angus really liked, glassware and bowls once they had their own kitchens, Christmas pajamas and candleholders.

Did I mention the ducks?

Jody and I bought black cardigans one year - she bought a short one and I bought a long one and they both fit us basically the same (get it? She is short). Often you get to say something fun like "excuse me, where did you get that two-foot tall bouncy metal chicken?" 

We like to find small angry animals that look like Jody. Or sculptures that capture her personality.

More ducks. I loved the Showgirl ducks and Drag Queen ducks, but they didn't really match the vibe of the ducks I already had. 

I shared a moment with this...dog? Rabbit? 

A Malaga/Picasso callback, or a representation of what I feel like trying to remember nouns in perimenopause. 

I got one Christmas present, one birthday present, a glass for my bathroom so I could stop scooping water into my mouth with my hands like a savage, and another duck. Everything seemed to follow a theme (me in my Blue Period). 

I believe I am now at my duck limit. Any duck that is henceforth acquired will require a current duck to be replaced. 

Giving my ADHD Free Rein

 I just read Julie's 'Lazy-Ass Blog Post' and was going to call mine the same, but I have been letting ADHD guide me this week (in the spirit of full disclosure, I googled 'free rein' to make sure it wasn't 'free reign', which I KNEW it wasn't, but MY GOD the perimenopausal brain fog has settled hard around the language center in my brain. Eve Facetimed me this week and was complaining about how hot it is in Hamilton and said "I think I'm just going to have to....I'm pulling up the Costco app..." and I yelled while unloading the dishwasher "yes! Order the damn fan and I'll pay for it." Except then she said "what?" because I HAD NOT said "order the damned fan" I had said "order the damned LAMP". Why? WHO FREAKING KNOWS? She said "I thought you thought I needed a sad lamp or something." No, I NEED A DUMB LAMP. We got the order put through, and every time I tried to say 'fan' I said 'lamp'. Cool, cool, a little aphasia on a Wednesday night, no big deal.

I went to the One World Bazaar on my yearly One World Bazaar Date with my friend Jody (HI JODY) and she was also having trouble wording, which made me feel a bit better, which then made me feel worse because what kind of monster feels better when her friend is also struggling. I will do a longer post about the bizarre bazaar date but I let my ADHD guide my cleaning efforts today and wandered around the house pulling out drawers and laying out crap and making a giant mess everywhere and now it's almost eight and I haven't eaten and it's dark because of the stupid time change and if I try to wrestle with the Blog Touch app right now I will probably end up crying (fire up the Sad Fan, I mean Lamp). 

Also Lucy wants to go out but Riley (her sister next door) got sprayed by a skunk about a week ago so now I'm scared to let her out after dark and I have to open the sliding door but not the screen door and clap and yell and then shine a flashlight in hopes that this will scare off any theoretical skunks because my husband is away for the whole damn month and it was hard enough dealing with the skunk thing when everyone was home, if it happened and I was alone I would probably just take Lucy and we would go out and follow the skunk to its den? Burrow? Hole? and become one with the skunk family. 

This is me last night going out to my friend Janet's (HI JANET HAPPY BIRTHDAY) birthday dinner rocking two of the three primary colours. Look at my shirt, it's as bright as a fan, I mean lamp. 

Send help!

If It Please the Court

 So we were in Edmonton to see my brother-in-law get sworn in to the King's Bench (the superior trial court of the Canadian province of Alberta, nooo I did not just Google that). We knew it was kind of a big deal, but wow, it was really a big deal. The swearing-in ceremony was in an actual courtroom, and while we were waiting for the whole thing to begin it did feel a bit like we should be preparing an alilbi. 

My brother-in-law is an extremely intelligent, witty, hilarious, well-spoken man who apparently also has a keen legal mind. He worked for a law firm and then was a constitutional law professor at the University of Alberta for years, and was often on the news as a public commentator on constitutional issues. This ceremony was the kind of thing most of us don't get until we're dead, which is kind of cool. There were speakers from the university and the province's law society as well as the freaking lieutenant governor of Alberta, and then Eric's own speech. This could have all gotten tedious, except everyone was very articulate and, as is appropriate for friends of Eric, very funny also.

Eric's speech probably should have been recorded. The two principal things I remember were "I always thought that if the Lieutenant Governor of Alberta, my childhood friend Neil, and my dear Aunt Kate were in a room together I would have been having some kind of weird dream", and "when I looked in the mirror and saw my hairline I realized it was telling me to dress for the job I want". 

It was a great excuse for a partial family reunion that didn't center around a funeral. Matt and I stayed at a hotel right in downtown Edmonton so we could walk to the courthouse, and the first day we went out for brunch and accidentally ended up at a place that was probably too hip for us (there was a family of mother, father, two little boys and a baby girl that should have been featured in some picturesque Families in Fall magazine spread) but the food was really good - I literally said the words "there is a little too much bacon on my breakfast sandwich". Then we walked by the art gallery and decided to go in since we had time before the ceremony. 

There was an exhibition called The Light Fantastic with a bunch of interactive installations that were SO cool. I was talking excitedly about it later in the day and then realized Matt's uncle the artist was there and felt slightly sheepish, and he looked at my face and said "art is supposed to be fun", which I appreciated.

 There was also an exhibit on art about sports, with interesting juxtapositions between older art and more modern pieces (including a giant athletic cup).

We finished just as my right leg started going numb, which is always the mark of a perfectly timed outing.

On the walk back to the hotel we saw a kid dressed as a lobster, whose waddle was very enjoyable.  

We stayed at a hotel with Matt's stepdad and had a few meals with him, which was lovely. We had one dinner at a The Sherlock Holmes Pub which we had walked by after brunch. There was live music, which worried me, but it was just two guys and it was the perfect volume where you could hear them but still converse, and they were really good. I sent a short video to our group WhatsApp that it felt weird to be in Edmonton (western Canada) at an English pub listening to Farewell to Nova Scotia (Eastern Canada). And then - THEN - they played The Log-Driver's Waltz! 

There was a dinner for a larger family group on the Saturday, and we all went over to Eric and Sarah's house on Saturday morning. I kept thinking, at the reception after the ceremony which was at a theatre, and at Eric and Sarah's house which I hadn't seen before, that I should take some pictures, which is my usual role. But there were a lot of people I didn't know, and it felt like it would have interrupted the flow, and I ended up not. Except then I had last-minute regret and took Everyone-Already-in-Their-Coat pictures after dinner. 

Then the next day we all went to the airport to fly home but it didn't take, and that brings the first week of NaBloPoMo almost full circle. 

Hoppin' Through the Forest

Okay, so a bunch of people got it. This was my exchange with my friend Suzie, who read the post before anyone else had commented. 

The way my babysitter taught it to me also said Little Rabbit Foo-Foo was hopping through the forest picking up the field mouse and 'shmucking' them on the head, not 'bopping', but I'm willing to accept that that was incorrect. 

Throwback Thursday: Halloween Edition

 Last year on the first day of November I posted about the festival of drunkenness and debauchery that was our friends' annual Halloween party. 

My costume was super lame this year. With the Spain trip followed closely by having family here for Thanksgiving and then my dad's health crisis (largely resolved now), I was not feeling it at all, and while in the past I have been able to scrape up something decent at the last minute, this time I failed utterly. Matt went through all of the Rubber Ducks stuff Angus left and made such a convincing MiLB coach Angus said he looked like he should be holding a beer and a hot dog. Oh wait....

Ha ha, get it?

Random pics of my kids decades ago that Facebook spit out in my memories, *sob*.

Random pics of costumes I liked at the party this year and actually photographed. 

Random pics of Tony doing unspeakable things with Alina's mouse.

Which brings me to this: Who gets this costume? I thought Eve would, and was sad when she didn't, but then it made perfect sense. I will reveal the answer tomorrow if no one gets it.

Random pics of the basket of reading glasses on the kitchen counter, which made Dave's teacher friend say exactly what I was thinking; "is this the new key party? 'okay, who has 2.75, you're coming home with me.'"