I finished my night shift at work with a massive headache. Not from the work itself- that rarely bothers me. My head was pounding. Throbbing behind my eye. My jaw was sore. All because I didn’t have any coffee for the past two days.
I can’t believe it’s all because of a lack of drinking coffee. But it is. They say drinking coffee stunts your growth. Maybe not physically in my case, but perhaps mentally. The lack of coffee had left me unfocused because of the pain.
But I made it through the shift. Groggy and sore. Now it’s time to grab a coffee and off to bed. At least I have the ability to sleep after drinking coffee.
In the year 2000, I spent my last Thanksgiving with my father. I could say to you that I didn’t know it’d be his last one, but that’d be a lie. My father had already been battling cancer for three years by this point. Even the Christmas before, it didn’t look like he would make it through the winter. But here it was, ten months after that and we were gathered around the table to eat as a family.
We ate as a family for the last time that weekend. My mother, my father, my sister, my girlfriend (who ended up being my future wife) and me. The entire experience was awful; and not just because of my father’s cancer.
First of all, the dining room at my parents place now had a hospital bed in it. A bed that my father refused to sleep in. He preferred to sleep in his recliner. So, because this large bed was in the dining room, the dining room table moved into the spare room. A Pepto-bismal pink painted bedroom. It was enough to make you not want to eat.
But the worst part of the dinner was the hangover. My sister, my future wife and I had gone out drinking the night prior. Heavily drinking. We were destroyed the next day. So much so that my sister had to call me in the late afternoon to wake me up and see if I was still going to show up. We got to the house and at dinner, my sister drowned her plate of food in gravy. I couldn’t handle it, so I had to excuse myself for a moment.
At the dinner, my father knew what was up. Even in his morphine induced state, he knew we were recovering. He made fun of us. But he did so with a smile. Perhaps he saw youthfulness in us. Perhaps he enjoyed watching others suffer their own stupidity. I’ll never know.
So today, as you spend Canadian Thanksgiving with your friends and family, just remember that they may not be there next time.
My father wasn’t able to make one more turkey dinner…
Since last Wednesday, I stopped at a few breweries for a couple of Growler fills and to try something new.
First we stopped at Mount Arrowsmith Brewing Company for a fill of a blonde and grabbed a couple of bombers.
Before making it to my mother’s, we stopped at Gladstone and got a fill of a Cream Ale.
The next day we stopped at Shelter Point Distillery. I shared that adventure here. Followed by a stop at Beach Fire Brewing Company for a flight and a fill of a Raspberry Beer.
We headed to Powell River the following day and stopped at Townsite Brewing. I was here in the spring and enjoyed a flight. We picked up a fill of a Blackberry beer since Powell River was celebrating Blackberry Days Festival.
My wife and I enjoyed the brews we sampled and have some remaining to enjoy at home.
Today's post is short. I've been rather busy picking up some of the chores my wife usually does. I don't usually do laundry, but today was an exception.
We both have certain things that we do to keep the household running smooth. We have a good understanding of the shared responsibilities. Tonight I also prepared a dinner for some friends coming over. We went to meet our friends up the road at the Krause Berry Farm for a glass of wine before coming to our home for some brisket and mashed potatoes.
The kids helped to take down and fold most of the laundry. They also helped make dinner and set the table for our guests. It is nice that our kids are helpful without any fights.
We ate dinner outside with our friends and… I forgot to take my underwear off the laundry line. So now our friends know my brand of underwear…
For work I usually pack a lunch. Mostly due to the fact that I like to save money. But also because I don’t want to be eating McDonald’s at 3am four days a week.
My lunches are usually pretty straightforward. My main meal is either a serving of leftovers or a sandwich. I try and have a piece of fruit and homemade cookies or banana bread. I also take snacks that I steal from my children throughout the school year- such as granola bars. But the one thing that is a constant in my lunch is pudding.
Here’s the thing. I don’t really like pudding. I have gone for weeks with the same pudding cup packed in my lunch. I’m not saying I hate pudding- I just don’t tend to eat it. I usually pack a good sized lunch that I can graze through during my shift. It’s almost as if pudding is the last option and I’m still starving after eating the rest of my lunch.
Vanilla and butterscotch are my two most liked flavors. They are simple and easy to enjoy. Pretty hard for a company to screw up either of those flavors. Honestly, even the flouride provided by my dentist has these flavors, not to mention it’s virtually the same texture as pudding.
I’ll eat chocolate or the occasional extreme flavor (like lemon meringue) pudding if it’s all that we have. But I refuse, refuse, to eat tapioca. It looks and smells gross, like the innards of a caterpillar that’s been squished and it’s guts came out of one end only. The texture of tapioca pudding reminds me of the after effects of waking up from suffering a head cold: The chunky boogers are mixing with the runny snot and you have no choice but to swallow it otherwise you wouldn’t be able to breath.
So ya, pudding cups stay in my lunch for quite a while. I’d rather take some yogurt. I hear that shit’s good for you.
Our two youngest children are attending some free summer school programs this month. Essentially it’s a summer camp Monday-Friday as they learn about science and tech. It’s as if the school board took all the fun stuff from elementary school and put it together for three weeks of fun. Our children are really enjoying it. That’s about the nicest thing that I can say about today.
This morning, I told my wife at the last minute that we were going to take our oldest daughter and the dog when we went to pick up the two youngest. I said that I wanted to go for a picnic and we could pick up some KFC and find a park or some place. That’s when the grumpiness kicked in.
Our oldest daughter didn’t want to go. She had slept in until 11am and barely wanted to get dressed. My wife didn’t want to go without a better plan in motion. She was also upset that we were behind schedule in leaving to get the children. It’s not that we would be late to pick them up, just late to find good parking. It didn’t help that on our way we got stopped by a train for an extra few minutes…
After we picked up the kids, we went to pick up KFC. I thought it would be a nice treat: some greasy overpriced chicken. It’s something we rarely eat, to a point that our 11 year old son says he’s never had it. We took our bucket of 12 pieces and a box of fries and hit the freeway. Seriously. There is no nice way of advertising a “Bucket of Chicken”.
We got off the freeway a few minutes later to go to a small place called Barnston Island. As we headed towards the tiny ferry, we got stopped by another train. Sometimes my work follows me everywhere. The touching, pushing and nagging was in full force in the back seat. We made it to the ferry (aka tugboat and small barge) and crossed over to the little island in the middle of the Fraser River. I drove us around to the other side, pulled over and we all got out and headed towards the edge where the water was.
No one wanted to carry anything. Not the food, not the drinks, the blanket, not even the leash for the dog. So my wife barked some orders out, and the grumpy noises occurred and they all took something. We headed towards the rocks and found a little spot to eat lunch.
Even though the weather was a bit grey, we sat and ate. The meal was peaceful. No fighting. Except when my wife tried to use her new selfie stick to get a family shot. No one was cooperating. Even the dog was unimpressed. Shortly after eating, a few raindrops happened, so we packed up and got back into the Pathfinder. It was a brief lunch. The bickering and touching occurred in the back seat once more where it had left off.
What I was hoping to be a nice surprise picnic lunch was less than stellar. Last minute planning isn’t our thing as a family it seems. I better plan the next “spontaneous event” at least two months in advance.
This afternoon was the perfect day to share a plate of nachos with my family. My children had never shared a plate of nachos before, so that’s exactly what we did. We went to the one place I remember always getting a large plate of nachos to share with friends- Boston Pizza.
We shared a plate of over priced and small portioned nachos from Boston Pizza. Needless to say it was disappointing. This has secured the fact that we will not be returning to any of the Boston Pizza franchises for food. It also means that my children as they grow up, won’t want to go to Boston Pizza with their friends. One person tells five and they tell five, etc…
With the fact that the food was over priced and not in large portions hurt my feelings. It pissed me off because my wife and I remember mounds of toppings that even four grown adults would have trouble finishing them. In order to not be discouraged from nacho share-ablility, I am making it my goal for the rest of the year to find a perfect plate of nachos.
It needs to pass three simple factors:
- Large portions
None of the nachos are to be “specialty” nachos. Simple toppings of cheese, ground beef, peppers, onions, and tomatos. Side of salsa and sour cream. No cheap nachos and watery cheese either.
Please comment on some of the great nacho places that you have enjoyed. I don’t want to lose faith in nachos.
I came home tonight after work and did a very “Dad” thing. I took off my pants and just hung out in my underpants and dress shirt. It’s a liberating sensation to just drop the trousers and let your legs air out.
Usually I put some on lounge pants or shorts, but today I didn’t. No reason really. I just didn’t want to. Maybe I’m a bit lazy. Maybe I wanted some more freedom in my own home.
Butt, I’m happy not putting on pants this evening. Sure, my wife and kids are embarrassed- only more for themselves, not me. I’m not embarrassed. It was mentioned though by everyone in the household that I should be wearing pants at the dinner table.
I’m not showing off anything totes inappropes, so who cares. I know in the past, friends have seen me in far less clothing, or even naked, on occasion. I’m not exactly a sex symbol to most folks. However, I’m kind of ok with how I look. I’m not trying to impress anyone.
So there you have it. I did a stereotypical “Dad” thing this evening after a long day at work. Now I’m going to bed.
I plan on sleeping naked- just in case you needed that visual tonight. All in the name of comfort.