Saturday Evening Post

It’s official – my neighbourhood is dead. Or at least dead to me. The last second hand bookstore (the one with the For Lease sign) is closing its doors tonight for good. I went in yesterday and bought a stack of kids books and some New Canadian Library books all at 50 per cent off and commiserated with the guy behind the counter about the direction of the neighbourhood. Ridiculously priced cupcakes? Check! $100-a-plate restaurant across the street? Check! Second hand books? Uncheck. So sad and yet so… typical.


I have decided that every year for Christmas I am going to give my nephews (five of them) a homemade Christmas ornament. The plan is that when they grow up and move out of the house they will have a collection of ornaments for their own tree. I think it is a great plan except the overly cynical part of me thinks it will only last until they get married and their wife/life partner (hey, tadalafil just covering all the bases here) throws them out in favour of a theme tree that doesn’t involve handmade ornaments from your crazy aunt that don’t even match the living room decor. Last year I ordered the ornaments from Etsy (Starwars! They were a hit). This year I was hoping to find something at the Fair Trade fair we attended today but instead I just picked up my Radical Socialist Agenda (irony?) for the next year. It looks like I’m going to have to get off my butt and make some ornaments… you know, with all my free time.


Having a mid-day date with the Mister was awesome. We went to an great Thai restaurant with a lunch buffet and ate way too much. Thankfully I only went to one store before FINDING SHOES! Mind you, I tried on a ton of shoes but I was so full I don’t think I could have dragged Thai-filled belly from shoe store to shoe store looking for the perfect shoes anything that fit. Luckily they ARE the perfect shoes for me. No tears were shed. Picture forthcoming at some point.


I didn’t post yesterday because I was super tired by the end of the day and the Mister had been bugging me about this whole NaBloPoMo thing and about how I shouldn’t post unless I have something to say. I know he is right but – with three days left in November – I totally should have posted something.


From the blood curdling screams coming from Miss Fussy Britches bedroom right now someone is obviously in there poking her with rusty nails – so with that I bid you goodnight and adieu.

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