It’s been one of those weeks. I’ve been trying to fit ten days of work into seven, and my brain has rebelled. I knew I was in trouble a couple of nights ago when I dreamed of Daniel Craig.
That might sound like the quintessential female fantasy; but it wasn’t… because of the pickles. Yes, I dreamed that Daniel Craig was plying me with a plethora of pickled cucumbers.
Freud would nod sagely and point out the phallic significance. Normally I’d snicker and agree; but the truth is that I’ve been inundated with cucumbers lately, to the point where I’m even dreaming about them. The garden is going crazy, and every second day I lug in a basket of strawberries, a basket of cucumbers, a basket of tomatoes, and a basket of corn. And now the beans have found their second wind, too (no pun intended).
Don’t get me wrong; I’m thrilled that our garden is doing so well. But I’m also a teensy bit overwhelmed, which means the chances of me writing a coherent blog post this week are somewhere between ‘Nil’ and ‘Not a chance in hell’.
So instead, here are a couple of random thoughts that flitted through my mind this week:
I love food, cooking, and eating; but some days the futility of it nearly brings me to my knees. I spend SO MUCH TIME (and money and energy) acquiring food, preparing it, eating it, and cleaning up afterward… and four or five hours later I do it all again. And again. Repeat the next day, and the next, ad infinitum. And it all ends up in the toilet anyway. Wouldn’t you think we’d have found a better solution by now?
And one of my pet peeves: Stinky soap in public washrooms. Seriously, Dairy Queen, Wendy’s, and MacDonald’s: Can’t you buy hand soap that doesn’t reek like some unholy combination of burnt transmission fluid, old gym socks, and rotting flowers? You post big signs reminding everyone to wash their hands, and then you provide hand soap that nobody wants anywhere near their skin.
But… kudos to the PetroCanada at the corner of 17th Street and Cliffe Avenue in Courtenay, BC – their soap smells nice. And BIG props to the Flying J truck stop on Portage Avenue in Headingly, MB for providing GoJo mechanic’s hand cleaner in the women’s washroom – hooray!
Despite my pickles and peeves, I’ve had some wins this week, too:
Book 14 update: It was a busy week, but I still managed to get to Chapter 13. Poor Kane is discovering that fatherhood can be a dirty job…