Sunday, May 16, 2010

Conjugation and Impractical Shoes

I've said it before - real estate agents should all attend remedial English class.

When you spend as much time as Debbie, Jordan and I do, trying to untangle and translate their flowery prose and crimes against punctuation, you'll understand the reason we grind our teeth at night.

There are the competently literate among the unwashed, but even they occasionally fall prey to magniloquence (isn't that a simply lovely word?) as do we all at times, and the results can be side-splittingly funny.

(describing a house) ".... and the family can conjugate in the kitchen after a fun-filled afternoon...."


Well, perhaps they will need to select several action verbs to describe their afternoon (remember ACTION VERBS, children?).


Two weekends ago, Becca and I went for a 'Sunday Drive' on a Saturday afternoon. Stopped to fuel up at Grindrod and I asked her to check the tire pressure.

"Hey, mom. Look at this."

That phrase never bodes well. This moment was no exception. There was an unsightly bulge in the sidewall of the passenger-side front tire.

The back road wanderings were preempted by a trip to Kal Tire.

Seems my tire had a hernia. Somewhere (and I'm sure when and where) the tire sustained a significant insult, causing minor damage to the belts. Over time, normal road abuse snapped a few at a time until - voila - a hernia.

Not a good thing on a front tire, and so emergency action was required in the form of two new tires. The car is set up for low profile high performance tires, so I was a bit worried they wouldn't have any in stock. Luck for me they had some.

"Do you drive as aggressively as the existing tires would suggest?" the salesman politely enquired.


The tires they had were more pedestrian than the existing one, but they were blemish-free and so the sale was made.

"We can have them on for you this afternoon if you want to come back in 90 minutes or so."

And that's where the Impractical Shoes come into the story, because we walked to Village Green Mall, did some browsing and peeked into PayLess Shoes looking for flip-flops.

Which I did find and use a lot.

But I also bagged these beauties:

They aren't good for long walks through the grocery store but almost perfect for the office.


We've become the local evening grosbeak Food Bank lately. The feeding station is frequented by several bird species but these aggressive little buggers have been depleting Bryan's seed stock at a remarkable rate.

The quail have also been scritching and scratching around the feeders like little Rhode Island Reds. Upwards of 30 at a time are in the yard. They are cute as a bug, hard to photograph (never stop moving) but also hard on the flower beds - digging 'fluffing' holes and exposing plant roots in the process.


I've been 'writing' to you all week in my head, often write little reminder notes at work or while driving. I can't always remember it all, though, which frustrates me. For one who spends 40+ hours a week on a computer, there's surprisingly little time to write.

So imagine you are with me throughout the day, on my drives to and from work. "Look at that lilac hedge!" I say to you, "Isn't it gorgeous? And the smell is heavenly." We've watched the orchard bloom progress from cherries a few weeks ago to apricots and plums, now the apple and pear trees in bloom. On Friday night, coming home late because a system crash mid-afternoon put us all behind schedule, you and I look yet again in awe at the Enderby Cliffs glowing a rich gold in the setting sunlight.


My Tuesday-Thursday aquafit class is done for the season. Sometimes they try to carry on into June but too many people dropped out of the last session in favor of outside physical activities.

In the change room that last day, I started to chuckle to myself. There's a sketch in an early episode of 'The Red Green Show' where Red is yet again giving helpful advice, this time regarding underwear and that the old raggedy ones should be replaced with new ones "even if the only people who will see them are your wife and the cardiac emergency physician."

I used to paraphrase that line once in awhile, like the time a friend up north wanted me to go with her and get my navel pierced. "Why on earth would I want to do that? Only God, my husband and the EMTs will ever see my navel." (seemed she wanted me to do it first and then tell her if it if).

So, in the ladies change room I decided that line needed reconsideration, and that's where the giggles began because:

"No one sees my naked body except for God, my husband and the emergency room doctor...
... and my OB/GYN and his nurse...
... and the ECG tech ...
... and the mammography tech ...
... and the women in the swimming pool change room along with assorted mildly traumatized children ...
... and the three young people canoeing down the Little Smoky River one hot July day in 2007 ...
... the guys at fire camp way out in the bush when we all had to wash down after a fire retardant spill (that's nasty stuff on the skin, and then entire scene was, well, disturbing) ...
... the fitter at LaSenza ...
... my new best friend Nathan the massage therapist (back only, I add) ..."

Despite the fact that I have a poor body image, that's a lot of people.

Oh well.

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