CAR WASH BLUES!

I know what some of you might be thinking, in light of my numerous misadventures.  NO, my mirror did NOT get ripped off at the car wash. :)  My car is way too tiny.

Jiminy Cricket is teeny, tiny! I can soap him, scrub him and rinse him, for $3.00 at the car wash, in three minutes.  I have it down to a FINE ART!  That fine art went totally OUT THE WINDOW, on my last visit.

I am going to blame it partly on Vimy... well... some of the blame anyway.  Mon pauvre Pitou!

I had $7 in change  - three toonies and a loonie. I drove into one stall.  It was a warm summer day, but not stifling. Vimy was crouched on the floor, on the passenger side, communicating "I am terrified but I have to put up with this to follow my mistress" with his position, posture and demeanor.

I didn't want to leave him in the car, like I do in the winter, because of the warmer weather. Well, as soon as I opened the door, he cowered right away. His fear? The loud noise coming from the stall next door, where a guy was spraying his car. I dragged a reluctant Vimy out anyway, and told him to go lay down close by.  I turned to put $3.00 in coins in the machine.  I  had no sooner done that and picked up the sprayer, than Vimy took off!  He ran out of the car wash. So of course, I had to run out after him. A mother and daughter pointed out that Vimy was running away. LIKE I COULDN'T SEE THAT? My cousin tells me later that she TOO saw me running after Vimy. This seems to be the story of my life lately. By the time I caught him, where he was hopelessly trying to enter Subway, and had brought him back to the car, I had less than two minutes left. Big decision here? What do I do? I HAD to put him back in the car, where he was ONLY TOO HAPPY to be. He would only have run away again anyway.  In he went, and I soaped and scrubbed Jiminy Cricket as quickly as I could, in the less than two minutes I had,  but time ran out BEFORE I could  rinse the car.

Big decision. Do I add another $1.00, thinking another $1.00 would give me a minute of rinsing?  No such luck.  You HAVE to put in ANOTHER $3.00.  Do I have a loonie? OF course not, so I have to put in $4.00. I think I will get change. How silly of me!  OF COURSE NOT!  So now I have spent $7. I have four minutes left, and a terrified dog in a HOT car.   It took me longer than usual to rinse off  JC, because I would open the door now and then to let Vimy get some air.  I stopped after three minutes, thinking the machine would give me back a loonie, since I didn't use up ALL the minutes. Silly me! Of course not!!!  Frugalistas are ever HOPEFUL people you know, when it comes to getting money back. :)

So what the heck... I put the button on WAX.  It didn't look much different to me, but I used up that last minute, opening both doors on the passenger side, so Vimy could breathe. I am paranoid about my dog suffering in a hot car, even when he is with me.  After all, I have only called the police twice, on others who have left their dog in a car, with the windows up.  That would be SO TOTALLY BAD KARMA come back to bite me YOU KNOW WHERE, if someone called the police on me.  WOULDN'T IT???

Jiminy and Vimy - the two males in my life! :)

I have been called many things, in my day.

Below are names I have been called, that I can recollect, in the last few years.  Most are complimentary, or I take them as such, anyway.  I think in a lot of cases, they do describe me.

Fire Cracker                                                                  Nutbar
Pepper Pot                                                                     Numb Nut
Speedy Gonzales                                                           Piss and Vinegar
Speed Demon                                                                Intrepid
Energizer Bunny                                                           Wonderful Weirdo
Feisty                                                                             Beautiful Soul
Fierce                                                                             Fearless
Spunky                                                                           Sparkplug
Road Runner                                                                  Lively
Fireball                                                                           Powerhouse
The Hobbit                                                                     Cheeky
Mouffette Manquée                                                        Ball of Fire

However, there is one word that WAS NOT complimentary.  I remember when it was said to me. I REMEMBER the word, and the incident, as vividly as if it were yesterday.

I was a young mother in Ontario, driving with my two pre-schoolers in the back seat, when I totally and inadvertently, cut off a cyclist.  I did NOT see her AT ALL.   She YELLED an awful four letter word at me,  YOU C*&?!"  I have N-E-V-E-R forgotten that incident.

Never underestimate the power of the written or spoken word.  The word or words may linger forever!

What is the BEST word that has been used to describe you? 

Tippy Canoe and me too!

The rain was torrential. It rained so hard that the drops were pinging a couple of inches off the water, rocks and ground. This rain was accompanied by continuous rolling thunder, and flashes of lighting. I had a front row seat to this spectacular display of Mother Nature's.  I can tell you exactly from what wonderful vantage point I observed this sudden extravaganza that descended upon me with very little warning.

Never mind that the weather forecast had said there was a possibility of a major thunderstorm later in the day. Who pays attention to that? My friend TT and I had decided we were going caneoing, and that was it!  TT supplied the canoe and great outdoor expertise, and I supplied a delicious picnic lunch.  We headed out in mid afternoon on what turned out to be a fabulously HOT day in northern NB, a scorching 32 degrees Celsius.

We did have to contend with the wake of numerous pleasure speed boats, as we paddled along the beautiful Nepisiguit River, but nothing TT couldn't handle. Most tried to minimize their wake. I tried to mellow out. Not an easy thing for me to do.  We stopped to take a dip in the river's cool waters. Refreshed, we continued on our way to our destination picnic spot, a huge flat outcropping of rock, another half a mile up river.

We had no sooner resumed paddling, when the dark clouds started rolling in, and thunder rumbled in the distance. We paddled pretty damn quick, let me tell you, to get to our destination. TT had already advised me what we would do, should we get caught in a thunderstorm. I had been a Girl Guide, but let me tell you again, nothing had prepared me for what followed.

I had just opened a beer (TT doesn't drink), wanting to enjoy it after my hard paddling and my dip in the river.  Oh well!  I hadn't had time to finish it, so I placed it carefully on the large, flat rock surface, a surface which has deep wells, here and there, where stagnant, dirty and putrid water accumulates.

We had very little time to drag the canoe out of the water, and haul it up onto the rocks, before flashes of lighting close by made us scurry to tilt the canoe on its side, the bottom facing the lightening. We stored our belongings under it, in the middle. I, being quite tiny and SHORT, squeezed myself in under the bow section, with my life jacket as my pillow, my towel as my under blanket, my picnic cooler as my footrest and my waterproof MEC bag as a cushion under my calves.

I managed to finish my beer, half propped up like that, nestled under the canoe, when the deluge started.  I lay there and watched it, in total A-W-E.   I have never, E-V-E-R seen or been in a thunderstorm like that day, seen from the vantage point of lying on the ground, and LOOKING UP! It gives you a totally different perspective.  MOTHER NATURE actually put on QUITE a show!

I mused out loud about wishing I had brought another beer with me, when TT added, "Never mind the beer. An Ativan and a joint would do nicely right now!" Well, that set me off in gales of laughter, and I laughed my way through that entire thunderstorm, which lasted a good twenty minutes.  I could see TT huddled under the stern, one hand gripping the thwart and the other the port of the canoe, with his backside nicely nestled into one of those putrid,"wells in the rocks" type pools.  That sight just made me laugh all the harder.  I guess, when I get a little nervous, I get silly.  Whatever the reason, I laughed until my belly ached, and the thunderstorm passed.

When the thunder had waned and the lightening ceased, we crawled out, none the worse for wear. TT was absolutely filthy, from having lain partly in that stagnant pool.  I wasn't in much better shape ,even though  my refuge had been solid rock. We took another dip to clean off. Then I spread the tablecloth on the flat rock and we had a wonderful picnic lunch of pasta salad, broccoli salad, French bread, and cold chicken. It was so delicious! Rhubarb cobbler for dessert to boot.

We paddled back down river, as the sun shone again brightly, and we were none the worse for wear. All my clothing was soaking wet, except for a T-shirt, hoodie, and my bathing suit bottom. We had left our cell phones behind, so NO pictures as proof of our EXCELLENT adventure. You will just have to believe me.  I couldn't come up with this stuff in my wildest dreams.  As for tipping OVER in a canoe, into the water? I have already done THAT, way back in my younger days.

NOTHING IS RIGHT IN YOUR WORLD....

when your dog, your companion, your daily reason for being, is.... constipated!

It doesn't matter that you are facing an unwanted major repair bill you thought could wait until next year, but it can't, so you have to get your roof reshingled, before the snow flies.

It doesn't matter that you won $335 in a fifty-fifty draw, and gave $65 back because #BECCATOLDMETO, so the community group would have a nice, even $400 to spend on their overnight outing.

It doesn't matter that someone you trusted turned out to be deceptive and a major liar.

It doesn't matter that you had to visit the dentist three times in six days, coming out with a total of $280 for a check-up, cleaning and filling, which hurts the budget, because you don't have dental coverage. (My winnings will cover those bills, and for that I am truly grateful!)

It doesn't matter that it hot and humid; one of your fans is still at school, and you can't access it.

It doesn't matter that you have company coming in less than 48 hours; you aren't the least bit excited and you haven't even had time to remake the guest room bed from last week's company.

None of the above matters, until my Vimy is back to normal. Nothing!!! 

So I am off to buy Pepsid, which has been recommended as a remedy.  Then Vimy and I will go for our second walk of the day, heat or no heat.  Hopefully, something will come out of that walk. :)

In life, ALL kinds of spares are needed.

I always leave a house key hidden outside, so that friends and family can have access to my home, if need be, when I am away. Every once in a while I change the hiding spot. This week I decided to change my hiding spot. HOWEVER, I neglected to do ONE thing.   I didn't move the key to a new spot. I simply moved it inside, while I pondered where its new home would be.

So, the law of averages says I would lock myself out.  So course I did!  My sweet sis-in-law and I were leaving my place after a nice lunch, she to return home, and me, to get to an appointment.  As soon as I closed the door, I knew I had the wrong keys in my hand. Bless her heart, SSIL took me to my appointment. I made it with a minute to spare. The idea of being tardy is abhorrent to me, and there was no question of canceling this appointment. I was so grateful to have made it.

I remembered that my Handy Bro had a key.  My sweet sis-in-law offered to go get the key, come back and get me in an hour, and take me home. Did I already say "Bless her heart?"  She turned into the driveway, as I was stepping out my doctor's door.  Great timing!  I inspected the key she gave me from my brother.  It didn't look like the right one AT ALL. Telling me that he had a mitt full of keys, took one out and told her, "I think it might be this one, but I'm NOT sure", was not too reassuring.

Driving home, my mind is planning ahead. What if the key doesn't fit? What are my options? Everything is locked up tight, windows and doors, because of the heat wave and my heat pump.  Do I impose on my sweet sis-in-law to drive me to my brother's house to go through that mitt full of keys? Did I mention that on my way, I had texted Baby Bro (Frerôt), and asked him to check if I had given him a spare key? He is checking his keys and his car.

EUREKA! I am getting new window panes put in tomorrow, in both bedrooms. I can get my ladder out of the shed (I have THOSE keys on me!), climb up to the guest room window, and BREAK the glass with something heavy: I can then crawl through and open the door. Voilà!  Cheaper than paying a locksmith!  My sweet sis-in-law reminds me that we could have thundershowers, or rain, between now and then.  True!  So I shelf that idea for the time being.

At home, I hold my breath and insert the key. It doesn't turn at first, but I jiggle it back and forth, and wonder of wonders, my door opens. How do you spell relief?  My sweet sis-in-law is on her way, with a big hug from me, and I jump into Jiminy Cricket to go fetch Vimy at dogie day care.  I drop him off and make my hot yoga class, with 10 minutes to spare.   My spare key is safely ensconced in it's new hiding place, before I leave. LIFE IS GOOD AGAIN!

Things happen in threes....

or "Jamais deux sans trois", comme qu'on dit en français.   Things come in threes, good things and bad things. These three were somewhere in between.  Actually, TOTALLY funny when I think BACK on it.

My Vimy, my dog, is very social. Like his mistress. No surprise there anyway.  He loves to meet other dogs.  Totally understandable.  Dogs are pack animals, yadda yadda yadda. I am just setting the scene for what transpired. :)

I was chatting with some neighbours, on my way to watch the fireworks for Canada Day.  I had Vimy on his retractable leash. He was patiently sniffing around their yard.  They commented on how sweet and well behaved he was!  Tao, a tiny little dog, the size of my hand, I swear to God, was nearby, with his owner, who diligently kept him in her arms whenever there were any other dogs around, because Tao is terrified of any and all dogs. Tao is a tiny, tiny chihuahua.  His owner and I had chatted earlier. Well, she was in the parking lot not far from the driveway where I was standing, when she decided to put Tao down so he could run around a little.  Vimy saw that Tao was free, and like a bat out of hell, took off after him.  I had NO warning. He literally flew across the lawn, with me in tow, desperately trying to hold on and rein him in. The handle of the umbrella I was carrying, got HOOKED into the handle of the leash. Vimy was about to rip my arm off in his pursuit of Tao. I  had to let the leash go.  I ran after Vimy, yelling at him to stop; he was running after Tao, who kept running around madly in circles, around the parking lot, barking his head off, while his owner tried to retrieve him. It was TOTAL BEDLAM! To that add the noise of the plastic retractable handle bumping furiously around the parking lot, AND through mud puddles, and you have a pretty good picture in your mind.  My hot pursuit of Vimy, (Thank God I still jog now and then!)  resulted in my stepping on the handle, just as poor little Tao dashed up the steps of another house (NOT HIS OWN!), seeking refuge. His owner followed close behind. Into the house they scurried. I never saw them again.  Vimy was duly punished, but in two minutes he was back up, having a good time with two other dogs who had since shown up.  Apparently, the whole episode was heard half way up the street! All the neighbours standing around who witnessed the show, were doubled over with laughter.

With all this excitement, Vimy is noticeably more antsy and anxious.  A few minutes later, as we are milling around on the lawn by the water, Vimy mistakes my good friend's blue capris pant leg, for some kind of POST, and decides to relieve himself on HER!  She didn't notice until I told her. I HAD to! She was very good natured about it though.  I am way past embarrassed by this point.  Normally I would be TOTALLY MORTIFIED!  I just know another axe is about to fall; Vimy is on a roll.  I just can't put my finger what that roll will be.

It is now dusk and the fireworks have been delayed. Vimy is sitting quietly beside me, his paws crossed.  He seemed to have finally settled down, and stopped playing with the other dogs, so I take off his leash. No sooner said than done, BIG MISTAKE! The fireworks suddenly start up with a huge BOOM, and Vimy takes off, AGAIN!

He runs all over the place, zigzagging, TERRIFIED OF THE NOISE, and with me IN HOT PURSUIT ONCE AGAIN.  ALL to no avail. I spend ten minutes chasing him from one neighbour's back yard, into another, as he tries to hide. He wends his way home, ending up at our door, panting, sitting and waiting anxiously for me to open the door and let him in. He is so frightened, poor thing. I arrive panting myself, but I don't have the key, nor his leash.  Both are back at the fireworks place. Thankfully, the car isn't locked, so I grab an extra leash, and coax Vimy back down to the viewing area.  When we get there, he promptly hides under my chair. I look up at two beautiful displays, one right after the other, and... the show is over! The fireworks show that is.

I hope the other "Vimy" show is over too, because I am pooped!  We both go home to bed and sleep for nine hours. That alone is a miracle. Someday soon, I will go over and apologize to Tao's owner. 

ALWAYS take your cell phone with you!

The one evening I don't take my cell phone with me, is the evening I can't come to someone's aid because I can't call the police, damn it!  I tried to get someone else to do it, but they didn't. I can't believe how people REFUSE to get involved.

IT is a beautiful, balmy, breezy Sunday evening; perfect for a stroll with Vimy.  It's Father's Day actually.  We are walking along, when suddenly a low slung, sporty car careens into a driveway on the other side of the street.  I notice the Nova Scotia license plate right away, because I think,  "What an asshole!".  He reverses enough to block the path of a young woman in bright red leggings, who is walking briskly on the same side of the road. They exchange words, he tears out of the driveway, she keeps on walking, and he takes off at 100 KMH, gunning the engine, down the street. I continue to walk, observing her slightly behind me.  She is obviously upset. He returns, and now stalks her with his car. He is yelling at her through the window.  She, at one point, opens the car door, yells at him, slams it shut, and keeps walking. He keeps following her with the car.  By now we have come to an intersection.  He continues to harass her through the intersection, then pulls off in a parking lot, just ahead. Waiting for her.  I step out into the street as she crosses my path, and ask her if she wants me to call the police.Obviously stressed, she remarks, "Do what you want, but get his plate."  Of course, I CAN'T call because I am not home and for once, I DID NOT bring my cell phone. Maudit! I can only catch the first three letters on his plate.  Now there are cars lined up at the four way stop, because his shenanigans have slowed traffic. I look for a car with a couple inside, with the window rolled down, and yell to them that if they have a cell phone, to please call the police.  I briefly explain the situation, giving the three first letters on the plate. They nod, as if in agreement, then turn on the street where the young woman continues to walk. People stare at me as they roll to a stop, but NOT ONE, SINGLE person asked what was going on, nor offered any help.

I decide to keep following her, seeing that no one is coming to her aid by offering her a lift. However, she is a bit ahead of me, and when she crests a hill, she disappears from view. When I crest the same hill, I think I see her getting into a vehicle coming my way, but I can't be sure.  I don't see the stalker's car. It is S*O  frustrating.  I walk further ahead a bit, just on the chance I might see her. Those BRIGHT red leggings are a real beacon. There is no sign of her. She has disappeared into thin air.

I am so bothered by the entire incident, that when I get home forty five minutes later, I call the town police, and explain the whole situation. Apparently nobody has called. So much for hoping that couple did. I have to hope that maybe they gave her a lift?   The police call me back fifteen minutes later, and I repeat the whole story. They assure me that they will patrol the area, and be on the lookout, based on the information I have given them.

This incident brings back to mind a young woman by the name of  Kitty Genovese, who was raped, and murdered in NYC in the 60s.  Many, many (38 reportedly) people heard her cries for help, but NO ONE lifted a finger to help her. What is it with people, that they feel they have to mind their own business ALL the time, even when they know something is wrong? I just don't get it.