This is our mission today.
Next weeks topic is inspired by Stacey from Mothering Moments and her wonderful new link up called An hour in a day. So we ask of you to make a list of Ten things that happen in an hour of your life. You are welcome to join her link up with the same list. It is like buy one, get two chocolate cakes. Isn’t life great?
Things that happen in an hour of my day? I could talk about work, but that would be a lot of cursing and kind of boring. Not to mention some of my co workers read my blog so that's a no go.
An hour at home? More cursing, not nearly as entertaining as you might think. For example, this evening Minion #1 asked if the compost bucket was okay to use. I replied it hadn't been washed yet, I had just emptied it. Now at this point you might think he would wash it, put in a new bag and all is good in the world again. Nope, closed the lid, threw what he had in his hand in the garbage and left the kitchen.
Let's try my adventures out and about this weekend.
Jack in the Pulpit just starting
Trillium in the back
We had a gorgeous weekend here in the Big Smoke. Sunny, warm, my kind of weather. I had two missions. I had to get a dessert to a friend and I wanted compost for the garden. Both involved doing things I don't normally do. A trip to the grocery store and driving.
Gorgeous purple mini irises
Although I play well with others most of the time, there are also times I despair for the survival of the species. You know what I mean, those shake your head, WTF moments. Off to the grocery store.
I needed a very specific thing, stabilizer for whipped cream. Not something I could pick up at the dozen or so green grocers or butchers in my neighbourhood. My local grocery store is kind of snotty, the largest retailer of organic stuff around. I'm there, decide to pick up a few other things. Cruise the wall of hummus, an entire display case of the stuff. Weird because it's not like there were a lot of different brands or kinds, five kinds, two sizes, two brands.
More in lavender
Anyway I get to the check out and am behind a lovely blonde woman who is behind an elderly woman. The elderly lady buys a whack load of groceries, then has to root through her gunny sack of a purse to find her wallet, then question the amount.
I don't know about you, but I have my money/debit card ready when I hit the check out. It's never a surprise they expect me to pay. I also keep a running total when I shop so it is never a big shock when they tell me how much. I usually know within $5.00 how much I've spent. I'm now vaguely annoyed.
Cue the lovely blonde. First, an organic booster. Not my thing, but whatever. No bags for the produce so the poor check out girl is trying to corral her stuff so it can be weighed and rung in. They have re-usable ones now, ya know. As she is emptying her basket, it is the full on princess, two finger, I don't want to actually touch anything going on. What? Then she has it bagged, with PLASTIC. I almost yelled "They're gonna take away your pretentious I only buy organic card for that you know." Then Favio swoops in.
Favio is the, I'm guessing 17-18 year old, bag boy. All too willing to help. I get it, he is in the full hormone flush, not responsible for his actions. He and the blonde have a lovely time bagging everything, she pays her $103.00 for the three tiny bags she had, with debit, after she found her wallet, all the while chatting up poor Favio.
Thank the Lord, it's my turn. Batta bing, batta boom, I'm through, paid, ready to put my stuff in the bags I brought. What happened to Favio? Not helping? Not there anymore. I'm assuming he must have followed the blonde out to her Prius in the parking lot. Oh well, I'm done and homeward bound on my bike, vaguely annoyed, vaguely amused. Rooting for Favio but you just know that blonde was just leading him on.
Fast forward to Sunday morning.
I'm a planner. I plan everything. I'm the guy who allots 3 minutes to get this done with an extra 2 in case of unexpected set backs. Makes me great at my job where timing is everything. Of course I had a plan.
Compost drop off at 9:00 am by the city, hurray for free compost. One trip, possibly two will take X amount of time. Check the interweb for Beer Store hours, combine car rental with compost trip and buying beer. Smart and frugal, and I'm getting low on beer. Win all the way around. It's gonna be great and I'll be finished before lunch. Lots of time to play in the garden after. I book the car from 9:30 -noon, lots of time.
I arrive for the compost at 9:34, it's all gone. The city of Toronto produces tons of the stuff. They could have dropped off dump truck loads. There is a community garden in the park where they dropped the stuff off. WTF. It looked like they dropped off a pick up truck's worth. Oh well, it's the thought that counts. Right?
Back home, plans need to be adjusted. I am paying for this stupid car. I'll go to the garden centre which is incidentally attached to the afore mentioned grocery store. Great place, great staff, seriously.
I arrive, both parking lots packed. After I get over the shock of this many people not in church because I didn't see any of them in my 6 am bible study. I park waaaaay down the street. No big deal.
I get my compost, throw in a couple of regal geraniums. Ready to pay. Trying to get in line, an elderly lady, who looks suspiciously like the one with the gunny sack purse, will not move the stroller she has so I have to go all the way around through the back entrance to get into line. Yeah, the stroller was empty by the way. Thanks.
I push my eleven, 30 kg bags of compost a hundred meters to get into line behind the previously mentioned elderly woman. There may have been a glare or two. I'm assuming her daughter, finally joins her, more plants in hand. Then the elderly lady, probably inspired by me, decides they need some compost and off she goes.
As I'm waiting, less and less patiently a line is forming behind me. Still on track, I built time into the new plan, relax, breathe, it's a beautiful day. Bring on the loud, large woman.
I'm waiting in an aisle about 4 feet wide. My cart is at least 2. That leaves a foot on either side of me at best. Loudly talking to her girlfriend on her cell, ass as wide as my cart woman approaches. She can't get through. She stops, glares at me. Yes, how dare I be occupying space. I lift my cart, shift it as far as I can to the other side and she squeezes by AND DOES THE SNIFF AT ME. Like somehow I'm the rude one as she elbows her way through everyone else in line. The absolute killer is, there is another aisle. It is 2 feet over. You know, like two lanes of traffic separated by a median. I'm not amused.
As this is transpiring, some other woman jumped the line in front of me. She strolls in from the other aisle, looks at the line then goes to the cash as I'm starting to move forward with my cart. She gives me that smirk, then proceeds to unload the contents of her Coach purse on to the counter so she can find her wallet to pay. I'm now ready to run her over. But wait, there is still one more player.
An elderly lady comes from the other aisle, looking slightly befuddled. " Are you in line?" No, me and the other dozen people standing here are just killing time. I pointed to the back of the line and let her know we were all waiting. What does she do? She tries to squeeze by me. On the opposite side of the woman who just did it. I shift my cart one more time, hoping to God she never had the chance to spawn and let her elbow her way to the back of the line. My turn.
Very chirpy, happy sales girl who by now I just want to slap the happy off of but she made me laugh, all is forgiven. There is still lots of time, I made a plan. Get my stuff to the car, return the cart. Line jumper lady is still there but now she's letting her son spray everything with the watering hose. Who does that? Glad to see she was in such a rush. As I was leaving, a couple with two children were coming in and I heard the woman saying, " I just want to take my time. I don't want to commit to anything right away." I made eye contact with her husband and gave him my most sympathetic "sucks to be you glance". I'm off to the Beer Store.
I arrive at 11:06, having been cut off by a guy trying to jump the light. I open the door, go to get out. "It's closed." says the nice woman waiting with her truck load of returnables. " They don't open until noon."
But the interweb said 11:00, I looked up the hours, I made a plan. I endured a whole lot of people I really just wanted to smack.
I returned home. Defeated. With compost I paid for. Beerless. Yeah, life is like a fairy tale some days. I feel a little like Cinderfella getting crapped on by my ugly, obnoxious step sisters. Bitches. Where the hell is that good for nothing fairy godmother.
An hour out of my weekend, more or less. Stop by Stasha's to read about everyone else's hour. Ting.
Thank the Lord, it's my turn. Batta bing, batta boom, I'm through, paid, ready to put my stuff in the bags I brought. What happened to Favio? Not helping? Not there anymore. I'm assuming he must have followed the blonde out to her Prius in the parking lot. Oh well, I'm done and homeward bound on my bike, vaguely annoyed, vaguely amused. Rooting for Favio but you just know that blonde was just leading him on.
Violets everywhere
Fast forward to Sunday morning.
I'm a planner. I plan everything. I'm the guy who allots 3 minutes to get this done with an extra 2 in case of unexpected set backs. Makes me great at my job where timing is everything. Of course I had a plan.
Compost drop off at 9:00 am by the city, hurray for free compost. One trip, possibly two will take X amount of time. Check the interweb for Beer Store hours, combine car rental with compost trip and buying beer. Smart and frugal, and I'm getting low on beer. Win all the way around. It's gonna be great and I'll be finished before lunch. Lots of time to play in the garden after. I book the car from 9:30 -noon, lots of time.
I arrive for the compost at 9:34, it's all gone. The city of Toronto produces tons of the stuff. They could have dropped off dump truck loads. There is a community garden in the park where they dropped the stuff off. WTF. It looked like they dropped off a pick up truck's worth. Oh well, it's the thought that counts. Right?
Back home, plans need to be adjusted. I am paying for this stupid car. I'll go to the garden centre which is incidentally attached to the afore mentioned grocery store. Great place, great staff, seriously.
I arrive, both parking lots packed. After I get over the shock of this many people not in church because I didn't see any of them in my 6 am bible study. I park waaaaay down the street. No big deal.
Some of the crap I dealt with this weekend
I get my compost, throw in a couple of regal geraniums. Ready to pay. Trying to get in line, an elderly lady, who looks suspiciously like the one with the gunny sack purse, will not move the stroller she has so I have to go all the way around through the back entrance to get into line. Yeah, the stroller was empty by the way. Thanks.
I push my eleven, 30 kg bags of compost a hundred meters to get into line behind the previously mentioned elderly woman. There may have been a glare or two. I'm assuming her daughter, finally joins her, more plants in hand. Then the elderly lady, probably inspired by me, decides they need some compost and off she goes.
As I'm waiting, less and less patiently a line is forming behind me. Still on track, I built time into the new plan, relax, breathe, it's a beautiful day. Bring on the loud, large woman.
I'm waiting in an aisle about 4 feet wide. My cart is at least 2. That leaves a foot on either side of me at best. Loudly talking to her girlfriend on her cell, ass as wide as my cart woman approaches. She can't get through. She stops, glares at me. Yes, how dare I be occupying space. I lift my cart, shift it as far as I can to the other side and she squeezes by AND DOES THE SNIFF AT ME. Like somehow I'm the rude one as she elbows her way through everyone else in line. The absolute killer is, there is another aisle. It is 2 feet over. You know, like two lanes of traffic separated by a median. I'm not amused.
As this is transpiring, some other woman jumped the line in front of me. She strolls in from the other aisle, looks at the line then goes to the cash as I'm starting to move forward with my cart. She gives me that smirk, then proceeds to unload the contents of her Coach purse on to the counter so she can find her wallet to pay. I'm now ready to run her over. But wait, there is still one more player.
An elderly lady comes from the other aisle, looking slightly befuddled. " Are you in line?" No, me and the other dozen people standing here are just killing time. I pointed to the back of the line and let her know we were all waiting. What does she do? She tries to squeeze by me. On the opposite side of the woman who just did it. I shift my cart one more time, hoping to God she never had the chance to spawn and let her elbow her way to the back of the line. My turn.
Bleeding heart bush
Erica shared the Cinderella Story her mother told her as a girl
Very chirpy, happy sales girl who by now I just want to slap the happy off of but she made me laugh, all is forgiven. There is still lots of time, I made a plan. Get my stuff to the car, return the cart. Line jumper lady is still there but now she's letting her son spray everything with the watering hose. Who does that? Glad to see she was in such a rush. As I was leaving, a couple with two children were coming in and I heard the woman saying, " I just want to take my time. I don't want to commit to anything right away." I made eye contact with her husband and gave him my most sympathetic "sucks to be you glance". I'm off to the Beer Store.
The Cinderella Story
Two slippers
A necklace
Earrings
The Godmother's Wand
Revealed with a "Ting"
I arrive at 11:06, having been cut off by a guy trying to jump the light. I open the door, go to get out. "It's closed." says the nice woman waiting with her truck load of returnables. " They don't open until noon."
But the interweb said 11:00, I looked up the hours, I made a plan. I endured a whole lot of people I really just wanted to smack.
I returned home. Defeated. With compost I paid for. Beerless. Yeah, life is like a fairy tale some days. I feel a little like Cinderfella getting crapped on by my ugly, obnoxious step sisters. Bitches. Where the hell is that good for nothing fairy godmother.
Ferd loves that story
Oh well, I did get to spend the weekend in the garden. Maybe not a happily ever after, but good enough.An hour out of my weekend, more or less. Stop by Stasha's to read about everyone else's hour. Ting.
