A Dipsy-Doodle Day - October 14, 2017
A Dipsy-Doodle Day
It’s been a dipsy-doodle day.
It started at 4:10 am when Charlie started his caterwauling. Now this is nothing unusual, but he happened to howl at a particular part of my sleep pattern, so that was it for me.
(I can’t get too upset with Charlie. I regularly start to wake up at about 4:30 am. I have a joke with my mom. She’s a night-owl. I reckon that she s going to bed long about the time I’m waking up. Between the two of us, we’ve got the whole day covered.)
So, my day starts a little “off” to begin with. And it’s Breakfast Program day so I need to haul myself out of bed by 5:30 am if I want to get my morning routine in AND leave the apartment by 7:30 am. Drats, it’s raining out, so my 5-k jog-walk is done slogging along on a treadmill.
I get to the school by 7:45 – so that is well. And so does my usual breakfast partner Jay (not her real name) – and the two of us work like gangbusters, if it’s only the two of us. Add two new helpers who need to be trained up for when we’re not there, and we no longer know how to butter bread let alone scramble eggs (with water – not milk – in case there are food allergies.)
OK, some 50 kids get fed and nobody stops breathing, so our job is done at LC public school. Off to GoodLife. I get there and someone has been using “my” spin bike so I have to readjust it. Except it’s been cranked so tight, I can’t loosen it. Thank heavens for fellow cyclists who have arms like jack leg drillers.
What? I’ve forgotten my gym clothes. I can’t believe it. So, I spin in my street clothes and work up a sweat you cannot imagine. By the time I get to my weights class, I am a steamy furnace. Thankfully, this is a very forgiving class. You can lower your weights. And that is a good thing because I have forgotten my Voltaren for my wrist and knee pain.
I should not be driving home, but I do. I don’t remember to lock the van and I leave my purse in it. Thankfully no one helped themselves. I had an appointment at 1 pm – Laur had a preachers’ meeting at 3:30 pm – and he wanted to get his hair cut. What to do? I suggested that Laur drive me to my appointment and then get his hair cut and then pick me up.
That actually worked and I made us a nice herbal tea at 3 pm. By 3:15 Laur was ready to tuck in for an afternoon nap when I reminded him of his preachers’ meeting at 3:30 pm. When I mentioned this, he looked like he’d been struck by a bolt of lightening. WHAT!? Off he went.
Me, I was beyond tired at this point and thought I’d lie down for a bit. I can’t nap in the daytime but it feels good just to relax. I didn’t bother to lock the outside door – Laur would be back soon. What was the point?
After half an hour, I wandered back into our living room, only to see someone crouched on our patio. I thought maybe it was a workman, so I opened the door wide and asked, “Can I help you!?” The lad looked to be in his early 20s and was very startled. He said, “I’m just recharging my phone. I’m very lost.” And I said “OK!” and shut and LOCKED the door. I went back down the hall way and waited for a few minutes. Came back... He was gone. That was weird. Not too much weirder than the rest of my day, but weird enough.
Laur returns home and is astonished that I’ve locked our patio door. I tell him the story. He’s not very worried – nor am I. Just perplexed.
But not as perplexed as he was as the preachers’ meeting. The lads were looking ahead to Easter and Laur could not for the life of him remember the name of the Sunday before Easter. Had this vague idea that it started with the letter P. Hmm… P for Passover… No, that can’t be right. Hmm, you know, the triumphal entry day… (For non-church goers, it’s called “Palm Sunday.” A very significant day in the Christian year.)
Laur was definitely in “nap” mode – his body was at the meeting, but his brain was beneath the covers. At the end of the meeting, Laur says to our pastor, “See you in February!” He was referring to when we return to Canada for a week, having left for Arizona in November. Our minister looks at him quizzically and says, “I’ll be here before you leave…” I think he was thinking, “Oh oh, looks like another member of our church is going to be on the ‘needs a ride to church’ list.”
The rest of our day went pretty well. We showed core competencies making supper, cleaning up after, taking the garbage down, and putting on a laundry. So, I doubt our kids will be moving us to a Nursing Home any time real soon.
*****
At least until this morning when I went to unpack the dishwasher and opened the oven door… Sigh… I guess it would have been worse if there’d been dishes in there…
It’s been a dipsy-doodle day.
It started at 4:10 am when Charlie started his caterwauling. Now this is nothing unusual, but he happened to howl at a particular part of my sleep pattern, so that was it for me.
(I can’t get too upset with Charlie. I regularly start to wake up at about 4:30 am. I have a joke with my mom. She’s a night-owl. I reckon that she s going to bed long about the time I’m waking up. Between the two of us, we’ve got the whole day covered.)
So, my day starts a little “off” to begin with. And it’s Breakfast Program day so I need to haul myself out of bed by 5:30 am if I want to get my morning routine in AND leave the apartment by 7:30 am. Drats, it’s raining out, so my 5-k jog-walk is done slogging along on a treadmill.
I get to the school by 7:45 – so that is well. And so does my usual breakfast partner Jay (not her real name) – and the two of us work like gangbusters, if it’s only the two of us. Add two new helpers who need to be trained up for when we’re not there, and we no longer know how to butter bread let alone scramble eggs (with water – not milk – in case there are food allergies.)
OK, some 50 kids get fed and nobody stops breathing, so our job is done at LC public school. Off to GoodLife. I get there and someone has been using “my” spin bike so I have to readjust it. Except it’s been cranked so tight, I can’t loosen it. Thank heavens for fellow cyclists who have arms like jack leg drillers.
What? I’ve forgotten my gym clothes. I can’t believe it. So, I spin in my street clothes and work up a sweat you cannot imagine. By the time I get to my weights class, I am a steamy furnace. Thankfully, this is a very forgiving class. You can lower your weights. And that is a good thing because I have forgotten my Voltaren for my wrist and knee pain.
I should not be driving home, but I do. I don’t remember to lock the van and I leave my purse in it. Thankfully no one helped themselves. I had an appointment at 1 pm – Laur had a preachers’ meeting at 3:30 pm – and he wanted to get his hair cut. What to do? I suggested that Laur drive me to my appointment and then get his hair cut and then pick me up.
That actually worked and I made us a nice herbal tea at 3 pm. By 3:15 Laur was ready to tuck in for an afternoon nap when I reminded him of his preachers’ meeting at 3:30 pm. When I mentioned this, he looked like he’d been struck by a bolt of lightening. WHAT!? Off he went.
Me, I was beyond tired at this point and thought I’d lie down for a bit. I can’t nap in the daytime but it feels good just to relax. I didn’t bother to lock the outside door – Laur would be back soon. What was the point?
After half an hour, I wandered back into our living room, only to see someone crouched on our patio. I thought maybe it was a workman, so I opened the door wide and asked, “Can I help you!?” The lad looked to be in his early 20s and was very startled. He said, “I’m just recharging my phone. I’m very lost.” And I said “OK!” and shut and LOCKED the door. I went back down the hall way and waited for a few minutes. Came back... He was gone. That was weird. Not too much weirder than the rest of my day, but weird enough.
Laur returns home and is astonished that I’ve locked our patio door. I tell him the story. He’s not very worried – nor am I. Just perplexed.
But not as perplexed as he was as the preachers’ meeting. The lads were looking ahead to Easter and Laur could not for the life of him remember the name of the Sunday before Easter. Had this vague idea that it started with the letter P. Hmm… P for Passover… No, that can’t be right. Hmm, you know, the triumphal entry day… (For non-church goers, it’s called “Palm Sunday.” A very significant day in the Christian year.)
Laur was definitely in “nap” mode – his body was at the meeting, but his brain was beneath the covers. At the end of the meeting, Laur says to our pastor, “See you in February!” He was referring to when we return to Canada for a week, having left for Arizona in November. Our minister looks at him quizzically and says, “I’ll be here before you leave…” I think he was thinking, “Oh oh, looks like another member of our church is going to be on the ‘needs a ride to church’ list.”
The rest of our day went pretty well. We showed core competencies making supper, cleaning up after, taking the garbage down, and putting on a laundry. So, I doubt our kids will be moving us to a Nursing Home any time real soon.
*****
At least until this morning when I went to unpack the dishwasher and opened the oven door… Sigh… I guess it would have been worse if there’d been dishes in there…