S.A.T.C.

For those of you unfamiliar with the above acronym, it stands for Sex and the City.

Unless you've been hiding in a cave, have not seen a newspaper or have avoided any news medium whatsoever these last few weeks, you'll likely be aware the apparently long-awaited (by whom, I might ask?) eponymous movie opened this weekend,

I was never a fan of the cable TV show. I could not identify with any of the characters in any way, shape or form. I did, I admit, watch some episodes as TLATO lived her life vicariously through the antics of four shallow, loose moralled and self-centred bordering on alcoholic, collectors of ugly-to-me shoes that must be packaged with chiropractic and podiatric vouchers (hence the exorbitant prices).

Confession time; I have had a few manicures and two pedicures. There I admit it. I am not what I would consider to be "metro sexual" - way too much body hair for that.

So anyway, like I said, not a fan.

Sheryl has been eagerly awaiting the movie's opening for weeks. In fact, plans were being made days ago as to which show she and three girlfriends would venture on opening day.

Yesterday afternoon, four ladies of a certain age car pooled to Peterborough - closest town resembling civilization in these parts and eagerly presented themselves at Peterpatch's version of the Bijou. They all knew the movie was long (did I hear excessively?) and accordingly went en masse to the ladies room pre-show.

Three hours or so later, TLATO returned home. She loved the movie. "Which one of you was Samantha?" I mumbled under my breath as I prepared dinner for our dog, five cats and us - due to some of the ensuing confusion, I think Ben got my steak... Sheryl, enthusiastically effusive about the movie in general was, however, quite surprised by one thing. She had known that millions of dollars were spent on the production of this ultimate chick flick. One can only imagine the Midol bill alone. She said that there was a scene near the beginning of the show where the lower portion of a boom mic made an unwelcome appearance in frame. Odd. However, through the duration of said movie, she estimated that a boom mic was blatantly visible in at least 30% of the movie. It became an unwelcome distraction. It was as annoying as many of the above-the-line characters in the flick. She opined bravely that perhaps, a less than perfect print had been dispatched to this part of the world. Country folk will never notice. Wrong. One of the foursome estimates that the mic could easily petition the movies' producers for a piece of the action given the amount of on-screen time it enjoyed. In fact, keen observers all, they reckoned that there was at least more than one mic that made an appearance.

A body double, perhaps? Could there be a recurring role in a sequel?

Did anyone else who may have plonked down their cash for this designer-laden, product placement driven "spectacle" make similar observations?

Cleansing rain...

OK, I'm well aware that it's been almost a month since my last post, but I've been a little busy.

Regardless, yesterday afternoon, we started to get some rain; drizzle more than anything in the later afternoon. Fantastic, thought I as I aimlessly wandered the grassed areas of our property and over seeded parts of our country lawn.

Another task removed from the weekend chore list!

At around 2.00am this morning, I was woken from my sleep by the crack and rumble of distant thunder as a storm passed through our part of the world. TLATO and Ben slept through the whole thing - even as the heavens opened and a hard, yet cleansing rain fell most of the early morning hours. Once again, I was pleased as punch - this amount of rain meant that I would not have to hose down the dog run today - Mother Nature had taken care of that for me.

Later, after sucking back a couple of espressos and splashing water on my face, I drove to the gym for an early morning workout, almost mesmerized by the back and forth, to and fro of the windshield wipers as they valiantly fought to clear heaven's tears from my windshield.

Emerging from the locker room an hour or so later, my mood soon deflated; the sun was now forcing its way through hastily departing now white clouds and steam was rising from the asphalt.

The forecasters were wrong - again. Quelle surprise.

While one task was removed from my "Honey Do" list, another was added; power wash the decks on our property in preparation for a new coat of stain. Almost 800 square feet of deck plus surround benches... Lovely.

Even when you want the weather to co-operate and conditions are not favourable for most, meteorologists once again stumble from the gate. Their error means more work for yours truly and many others just like me, I'm sure..

And now the sun is most definitely out...

I'm searching for an excuse.

One day at a time...

In the early 1990’s, I stopped smoking. I didn’t quit. I stopped.

For some reason that simple word change helped me through the initial stages of withdrawal from one of the most powerful and addictive drugs in the world, nicotine. Technically, many years later I’ve quit. The idea of smoking is so far removed these days, the very thought of it is quite repugnant. And yes, it’s true – there really is nothing worse than an ex-smoker. I proudly add myself to that growing category

This post, however, has nothing to do with smoking and much to do with another bad habit of mine; shortness and rude and anti-social behaviour toward loved ones. In our house, we refer to it as “bitter tongue”. I am likely one of the world’s worst offenders. It’s not that I actually mean anything by it; it’s me, it’s who I am – unfortunately. Some of you may know that I do not suffer fools gladly; I expect everyone to be on the same “level” as me and understand my drive, my passion. Sadly, for me, this is usually not the case.

Consequently, my verbal abuse can be most hurtful to many and especially to TLATO who through no fault of hers, has been on the receiving end of too many vicious verbal slicing and dicing. Others, too, have experienced this over the years.

I’m sorry.

A week last Tuesday there was a particular episode that brought home the fact that I was being unkind – actually, downright mean. Since then, I have been doing my best to think first and open my mouth later. I’m trying to avoid my normal shoot from the lip approach to life. I have not quit. I’m doing my damnedness to stop.

I was not born this way. Over the years it happened. My reaction would often be automatic, second nature. The result could if you were witness, be considered remotely amusing. Unless you were the recipient. Then it just plain hurt.

Interesting situation in our house now; we created a response in the event I stumbled from the straight and narrow. The safety word was “SNAP!” This was supposed to be a response Sheryl would utter, directed toward me. However, in the past nine going on 10 days, that word has been said by me toward Sheryl more times than she cares to count. For some reason, she has become the “Snap-ee”!! Or is that the Snap-er?

Regardless, a temporary situation we’re sure. Go figure.

I’m doing my best. One day at a time. I’m trying very hard. It’s not easy.