My program at work refused to come up properly for over an hour this morning. There was a lot of foot stomping and fuck fuck fucks. I had Graeme on the phone for ages. I don't know how he comes up with answers like he does but eventually, he said he wanted me to try something but I'd have to be able to read. I was too frustrated at that point and knew it so I went for a pee and cleaned some beds and called him back. Worked a charm.

Then, because he had to get the router thing into the garage, he had to clean out the garage somewhat. He phoned a lot. What to do with this or that? He found the christmas decorations. He was still at it when I got home but had to leave so I sorted through what was left somewhat and tidied up and got stuff back off the driveway and called it a day. Gary made a tasty but really bad dinner and we watched House and Lie to Me.

Graeme and April looked at a house and really really really want it. Really. I do hope they get it. It's quite close - the next neighborhood over, close enough to walk easily and mostly through the greenbelt if you want- a generous well made home due for some updating - a huge backyard. What they had planned was to buy a house, fix it up and flip it within 5 years. But this house is more a keeper than a flipper. Best laid plans and all that.

We're heading to Vegas next weekend. Kind of snuck up on us. I don't think Gary's bought tickets for anything so it could be pretty boring for me if he's playing cards a lot. They still haven't taught me to play. I used to do pretty good at blackjack but the stakes are too high for me now. Cheapskate. Dumb when I always came out ahead in the past - I fear the higher gamble would rattle me and put me off.

Graeme fixed the chewed up bits of lights on my Christmas tree and I added a dimmer so I could turn those suckers down. Much better. We'll decorate today maybe. Maybe. I've dug out the ornaments I bought 2 years ago and forgot about. I'll need to ask the Hoarders people to come and help me sort through my garage to find the rest of my stuff. Maybe have the Humane Society come and remove all the dead cats.

Have you seen Hoarders? I love that show. As bad as I feel it gets around here, that show makes me realize that I'm not that bad. Except the garage which is in overload at the moment - full of Graeme's electronics including that wheelchair he bought,(he just bought a wheelchair stairclimber and a router rig thing at an auction too), a brand new electric bike no one's used, a dresser Gary brought home for some unknown reason, the laundry tub we pulled out of the closed salon to replace the cracked one here, cardboard boxes destined to be cut up for recycling, a spiral clothing display rack, old clothes for the Sally Ann, empty wine bottles collected because Gary used to make me a lot of wine - I can return them to the LCBO for 10 cents each now, a couple of grocery carts (Graeme's - don't ask), another dresser or two, a trunk with my Dad's American flyer trains and tracks, a tool chest, a couple boxes of picture frames, 2 pairs of roller skates, various luggage sets and heaven only knows what else. However, the storage room still looks pretty good. It can still pass as a studio/emergency crash pad.

I am in awe of people who can stay on top of all the crap that comes into the house all the time. I do have to keep some stuff - bookkeeping accounts for 7 years for instance - with 2 businesses plus the household, that's a lot of boxes! I also wish I could keep my weight constant like I used to so I wouldn't need to hang on to various sizes of clothes. That would free up a lot of space too.
And then there's the stuff you just put away and forget about until you go to put something else away to forget about. And you think - why the heck am I hanging on to this crap? - but then you recall that Aunt Soandso gave it to you and she's not dead yet. For all I've just whined, I will be purging quite a bit now that I have time to sort through it - if I get off my ass and do it. But then, I'll likely go out and buy some new crap for the house. With a renewed old friend who's an interior decorator I'm pretty sure I'll be getting on that or feeling very very crappy. With umpteen computers and peripherals that have gone through here, there are a crapload of cords and connectors hanging about "just in case". What does a sane person do with these things?

P.S. I spent ages hunting through the garage and can not find my very large box of decorations. Where could they possibly be?

So last night, I invited my son Matt over for dinner sometime and he says "how about tomorrow?"

"Fine - what would you like?"

"Lasagna"

So later, I'm telling Gary that Matt's coming for dinner and he'd like lasagna.

He says, "Lasagna?!?!! You'd think he'd want roast beast or something good."

Poor Gary does not understand that other people do not share all his likes and dislikes. He believes that in the area of food choices, his are right and if yours are different, they are wrong. He has long since given me up for certifiably insane, and my daughter even crazier.

Thing is, he doesn't hate lasagna. He would never order it in a restaurant if there was any other choice but it's really more the idea of lasagna than the actual lasagna. It's sort of like fish or chili or rice or vegetables in his mind. It's ok when it's in front of you and you are eating it but the thought of it isn't enticing.

Did his mother always feed him his favourites? Perhaps his favourites are the five things his mother cooked - if there were five things his mother cooked. These are the foods I am aware that his mother cooked: Belfast fry (bacon, eggs, potato bread, soda bread, tomatoes, and with chips and beans if made for dinner), steak, chips, stew (mince and Irish)....um....she made a meat pie once when I was there....mushy peas (gag, choke)....

He'd never had a hamburger or hotdog or chili or spaghetti or pizza or anything with any seasoning beyond salt and pepper and Bisto in the gravy before coming here. Except maybe a takeout curry?

Teaching Gary to eat Canadian, besides hamburgers which are likely the cause of his weight and heart problems, has been an uphill battle. I am aware that none of the foods I've mentioned are, in fact, "Canadian" but besides maple syrup and poutine, I'm not sure there is anything actually Canadian. Eating Canadian means that you'll eat anything from anywhere. The newest flavour on the block is the best. But Gary doesn't greet new foods with gusto. His idea of exotic but acceptable foods are curry or General Tso's Chicken. Going out to dinner means going to This steakhouse, that steakhouse or Swiss Chalet. Or maybe the Indian or Chinese buffet. He resists and whines and sniffs and snorts and becomes the "MOST OBNOXIOUS CUSTOMER" if you take him anywhere else. In fact, he really does like Pad Thai and number 318b a lot but he thinks he doesn't. He swears he doesn't. But he doesn't leave any behind and if I make it, he goes back for seconds. Or thirds. But he still doesn't want it for dinner.

(Potato bread is a sort of mashed potato pancake which is refried with bacon grease)