I didn’t realize it until I went to the translink.ca site this morning, but I am now One Bus Ride from church. I walk out to the Kingsway, get on the 112, and it takes me straight to church.
This makes me very, very happy, and probably means I’ll be doing a lot more church stuff. I mean, it’s right there! No more not going to church because I want a lift!
Later on today I am going to go off to a Tim Horton’s and – yet again – see if a guy I’ve talked to on the phone a couple of times is going to actually show. I don’t think Timmy Ho’s has wireless, though. I may bring a small mending project just to keep myself out of trouble.
Lady Miss Banjola was robbed at gunpoint the other day – at work I hasten to add. She’s fine; she is one of these people who does not get upset about the normal things people get upset about. Exciting times we live in.
My unca Dave is not eating very much, but he talked to mOm on the phone for a while the other day, and it’s little things like that that keep us going.
Keith and Paul are off to see Lois at some point. I imagine somebody will tell me eventually exactly when I am supposed to feed the Kira critter.
Margot has abrumptly (sorry, this was a word emitted by one of the Xantrex overlords some years ago, and I liked it so much I kept it) decided to quit washing her rear end. I will give her a day or so to smarten up and then it’s off to the groomer to get all her butt hair shaved off. I tried shaving it but my clippers are anaemic to the point of mollescence and I’m terrified to cut her fur with scissors.
For what it’s worth, Jim (who has substantial experience with cats) says “a messy bottom is usually a sign that something is wrong with the cat (like diahrea, tummy upset or something)”.
I felt sure mollescence was another invented word and am charmed to be proved wrong.
The gun-in-face thing was just so surreal that my reality processor won’t credit it, I think, and thus I am not disturbed by the experience. I actually felt more nervous looking at the responding RCMP officers’ service weapons than I did while being robbed.
The one recurring thought which makes me unhappy about it (other than being angry on behalf of the poor teenaged girl I was working with, who was understandably very upset by the experience of being marched around at gunpoint) is that I keep wishing I could tell John about it. He would have had some choice bizarre turn of phrase to sum things up, or maybe just some inappropriately violent advice.
I think she got into something, or there’s something going around. Jeff is full on sick with a cold, and he’s home today.