Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! Here is the holiday edition of Past Deadline, published in The Perth Courier on Oct. 10/13.
The upsides to a down week
Last week, I gotta tell you, the planets just weren’t aligned. It was one of those weeks when the smallest issues seemed like the Worst. Things. Ever.
The whole week felt like when you have a jar that won’t open and rather than take the time to apply the strategies you know (Try a wet cloth! Tap the bottom! Use a tool! Call Dad!), you’d rather smash it against a brick wall.
Fortunately, no jars were injured in the making of this column.
Every day last week felt like a stereotypical Monday. Some frustrating work-related issues made me want to smack my head against the aforementioned brick wall. (Again, I refrained.)
There was pain, though. One evening Girlchild and I went to the track behind the high school to get some exercise, and I ended up with a sore knee for no apparent reason. It’s lingering. Stupid appendages. Why is there always something going on with my appendages?
So, I’ve been hobbling around the house looking for sympathy. “Why does my knee hurt?” I whined to my adoring children. “It’s because you’re getting old,” they said without skipping a beat.
Right. That.
The fact I am practically ancient must be why I experienced some annoying forgetfulness this week, too. (Caution: Sarcasm ahead!) Regular readers may recall the passion and enthusiasm I have for packing school lunches. Next to shoving shards of broken glass jars under my fingernails, it is my favourite thing to do.
So you can imagine how thrilled I was the morning I walked into the kitchen to find the lunches I had carefully packed the night before still sitting on the table – unrefrigerated. Oh, unbridled joy and bliss and glee, I get to repack most of it! Hurray!
And I hate wasting food.
Speaking of elderly, I am going to blame the cat, in part, for this forgetfulness. Although I love MacGregor dearly, he has not been helpful on the sleep front lately. In fact, one night I found myself thinking: “Gosh, wouldn’t it be awesome if I didn’t wake up to the sound of MacGregor barfing in the night?”
I don’t miss our upstairs carpeting for a second, especially with a barfy cat around, but things sure do echo loudly in the hallway with it gone.
On the morning after my silent plea for a quiet night, I awoke surprisingly well rested. Nice! I made my way down the dark staircase, grabbed a coffee, looked at the newspaper and then headed for the stairs again to start the wake-up drill for the kids.
That’s when my foot hit the cold kitty barf. Ew and double ew. Make that quintuple ew, because he hit five steps. How I managed to miss it on the way down I will never ever understand.
But at least he didn’t wake me up in the night, right?
And that’s what this column is about. In honour of Thanksgiving, a few things for which to be thankful.
First, I am thankful for occasionally being able to sleep through the night. Cleaning up trouble is always easier in the morning.
I am thankful for not falling down those barfy stairs.
I am thankful I have food to pack for the kids, even if I have to pack it twice.
I am thankful that, despite occasional frustrations, I have a job. Or two. Or 17.
When I think about people I know who are going through some serious health issues, I am thankful for just having a sore knee.
And I am thankful that I have a family around to tell me I am old and decrepit.
Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!