Every Sunday I make a list of all the things that I hope to accomplish on my day off–without any distraction from the Beast, who doesn’t get home from work until 8:00 p.m.
The items on these lists range from the typical, like “do laundry, run, make dinner” to the absurd, like “read the paper, remove underwear from bathroom door knob, sweep crumbs under the coffee table.”
A recent list included this line: “Make a curry?”
I visited my mom this weekend. We had a family gathering with her brothers and sister, plus my cousin Erin and her family. Everybody brought something to eat: Uncle Ron brought two roast chickens and a ham; Aunt Sandy brought her cabbage salad; Aunt Pat and Uncle Jim brought bean salad, butter tarts and lemon squares; Erin brought pasta salad, vegetables and homemade hummus; I brought scalloped potatoes and a selection of kielbasas from Benna’s on Roncesvalles; and my mom provided some sliced meats and cheeses plus a giant white cake from Costco and three coconut cream pies.
I love hearing my mom and siblings talk about growing up in Strathroy. They told a story about how my grandpa Gus tried to get car insurance in his 70s but the broker told him he was too old. Grandpa Gus grabbed the young man by the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. In the end, he got his insurance.