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Dear Winter, this relationship is over.

It’s not you. It’s me. Scratch that, it’s all you. You have burned me one too many times and I am over you. Don’t try to woo me with your unique artsy fartsy snowflakes. My head won’t be turned by sunlight glistening on frozen ponds. I am onto your wily ways. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…uh, never mind – look what happened to the last shmuck who tried that line.

Now begone I say. Crawl back to the frigid cavern from whence you crept and torture us no more. FYI – nasal decongestant spray is potent stuff.

A few weeks ago I waxed poetic about the beauty of living with four seasons. Hogwash, the lot of it. Give me a stretch of white sand with a parasol, a good book and my kids frolicking in the surf as D and I gaze adoringly at each other and I’ll recant anything good I ever said about winter.

And while I’m at it – bah, humbug.

Bou headed out to the local slopes at the end of December for his first go at snowboarding this season. Last winter we bought him the necessary equipment, put him in classes and he discovered that hockey wasn’t the only game in town during our long, Canadian winters. It’ll never become his great love, but it’s something to enjoy with friends. All it took was one fluke of a slip and BOOM, the hockey season is sidelined for 5-6 weeks as he rocks a neon green cast on his arm. A double break – thankfully not involving growth plates – is not conducive to stick handling and checking.

Strike 1 against winter.

9.5 hours in the emergency room waiting for someone (anyone) to look at my broken-armed son, which even I could tell didn’t look normal, and cursing people who were taking up space with their narcotics-booze benders as I reminded myself that at least I wouldn’t have to sell a kidney to pay for his health care, all the while inhaling other people’s plagues, with no book to read, a phone that died after the first 2 hours and the results >>> We had to go back to see a fracture specialist 3 days later when they finally put a cast on Bou. I know what the result of a bad bender looks and sounds like – it ain’t pretty – and so does my son – chalk this up as a valuable life lesson and potential deterrent. I’m now fighting a war against the germs freely shared that night. He’s grumpy. I’m grumpy. Run on sentences have taken over my brain.

Strike 2 against winter.

My sweet, goofy pup went bounding out the back door today to do her job and evict yet another zombie squirrel from our backyard and BOOM, fluke slip on a patch of ice and she broke her back ankle. The bastard squirrels were cackling in glee and throwing shrapnel at her as she did the 3-legged hobble back to the house. D brought her to the vet where she quietly submitted to being prodded and x-rayed and the diagnosis came back with this:

  • No walks. All business to be done close to home and with minimal movement.
  • No running around. Has he met my dog?
  • No chasing squirrels. The evildoers are having a party as we speak.

For 4 weeks. Bou and Juno are broken and it’s all winter’s fault.

Strike 3 against winter.

And now, to top it off, there’s no chocolate in the house.

Strike 4 against winter. I’m moving to Fiji.

Fiji, humour, word art

What brought you here?

Every once in a while I check out what brings people to Jack Straw Lane, and then I wish I hadn’t. People look up weird merde on the internet. Maybe it’s unintentional. Like the time I Googled ‘free ass image’ when I was looking for a photo of an equine ass. Not one of my clearest moments. But then there are those persistent searches that show up too often to be brushed away.

Top 5 searches that brought people here:

  1. How to hang a wet towel? Who knew that this was so complicated? Aside from my son that is. After months of harping explaining I call it a win when the towel is OFF the floor, even if it is scrunched up on the towel bar and will never dry. Apparently the problem has reached epidemic proportions based on the number of times people pose the question.
  2. Mistress quotes. I include one mistress quote in my Cool Quotes and suddenly I’m the go-to person. And on that note, why would anyone need to search for mistress quotes?
  3. Nicklas Lidström, Nicklas Lidström’s wife, shirtless Nicklas Lidström. It’s not what you think. I’ve only mentioned him once or so. It’s because I’m a hockey fan, especially when they play D. And he’s one of the best. He won 4 Stanley Cups. He was the captain of his team. He’s retired now, but if you look at his record you’ll see it speaks for itself…fine…it’s totally what you think.
  4. Equal parts CN Tower Edge Walk and Provence. These make me happy because a) I’m so proud of having done this with a great bunch of women and b) I love Provence and had an amazing holiday there last summer. If these two could replace all those pervy searches I’d be thrilled.
  5. Men in rubber suits. Exhibit A for pervy searches. In my defense when I wrote about men wearing rubber suits it involved super powers and superheroes. As in Superman’s suit, not as a fashion choice. This is one of those times when I don’t really want to know the motivation behind the request.

What’s the weirdest search you’ve seen? Or have you looked up things online that could be misinterpreted?

My wanderlust is showing

I want to follow this path and see where it leads.

mountain path, Provence, Les Alpes de Haute Provence, France, road, gravel road, mountains, sky, hills, forest, trees, shrubs, blue, green, soil, dirt, rocks, green, brown

Crumbling villages and war-time heroes.

Forbidden romance and gypsies and eccentric old women.

Napoleonic treasures, Roman bridges and lonely shepherds.

I’d like to know.

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