Its been seven years since I drove my car — legally. In actuality, I drive approximately once or twice a week — illegally.
I don’t understand why my friends, who as passengers in my car, don’t worry about the fact that my license is no longer valid. I’m fully aware of this important fact. If I get stopped for whatever reason, I’ll be in real trouble — maybe even in jail.
Vector illustration
Nor do I understand why these pals don’t mind that I haven’t refilled my gas tank and desperately need some. I know this to be true.
I’m driving about once a week, but don’t worry. Its only in my dreams.
Why do you think I dream about driving so often??? Isn’t it weird???
OH DEAR. I WISH THE EARTH WOULD OPEN UP AND SWALLOW ME UP!!!
Its Valentine’s Day in a couple of days and CBC radio has been asking listeners to share stories of their romances. It brought back one of my own and here it is.
I’d been invited for a walk in a park which I had never been to before. I only knew it was very beautiful so I was pleased to accept.
I had no idea it was a pebbled walkway and wore high heels. I was enjoying the beautiful blossoms on the trees lining the walkway when my date kissed me, a ‘real’ kiss — for the very first time.
I’m cool. I can handle this even though he’s French and roles his ‘rs. I accepted the kiss, turned and took a step forward and — fell on my face. I wished for the earth to open and swallow me up but that didn’t happen. Oh, dear.
Those were the days when women wore pantyhose, mine were torn to shreds at the knees and blood dripped down my leg.
OH, OH. I’LL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN!!!
I was sure I’d never see him again. Wouldn’t you think so too? But, he did become my husband later..
‘NORMAL IS GREATLY OVER RATED.’ SAMANTHA VAN ALLEN.
AND SAMANTHA CAN WORK WONDERS WITH PLANTS. THEY ADORE HER!!!
What else is there to add?
Samantha is one of my ‘kind of’ daughters and I adore her.
We are capable of a lot of silliness when we get together and perhaps I suggested we were both nuts and not ‘normal’.
This was her response. I love it so much, I just had to share it with you.
Throughout the six months I was in various hospitals with my broken leg and wrist, Samantha visited (by transit) often. She brought clothing from my home for me to wear during physiotherapy.
Samantha is a true friend and I am fortunate to have her in my life.
This is Susan, Muriel’s daughter, writing to explain why she has been absent from this blog for a while. You may have heard that mom was planning to visit me here in the U.S. so that we could record some more silly songs in the “Crazy Grandma Sings” series. Well, I am here to tell you that making videos with her wacky dottur is not the whole story. . .
While we were indeed planning to record more songs, the truth is that my mother has been a Special Agent in the American Covert Forces for many decades, and they needed her to come down from Canada for a particularly daring and dangerous operation involving two Mexican drug cartels, several international terrorists, and a passel of high-level Russian hit men. Only Muriel could handle an operation with this level of complexity and peril, and handle it she did.
Unfortunately, during the final phase, which involved defusing a bomb on a private plane carrying a number of top American government officials (whom she cannot name for security reasons), Muriel broke her leg in a death-defying sky-diving effort to capture the bomber, who parachuted from the plane after mom defeated him in hand-to-hand combat, in which she used only her reading glasses to fend off his assortment of knives and other weapons, all while simultaneously neutralizing the explosive device. Despite her badly broken femur, Muriel did ultimately subdue the heinous criminal mastermind, and she managed to keep her cute hat on the whole time!
The only known photo of Muriel’s skydiving capture of the bad guy!
Of course, what Muriel will tell you is that she broke her leg after tripping during the night on her way back from the bathroom, but don’t you believe it! More about Muriel’s adventures later, but rest assured, dear readers, that she is back in Canada and recovering from her injury, her leg made more bionic than ever and her spirit 100% intact. Thank you to those of you who reached out to ask about her. She truly appreciated it.
The famous Canadian scientist David Suzuki said during an interview on CBC Radio that when he reached 70, he entered the death years. I like him. The man says it like it is.
IT IS, INDEED, A GOOD DAY
When you reach MY venerable age and you wake up in the morning, it is, indeed, a good day.
SON RAFI, ME, AND DAUGHTER SUSAN. THEY MANAGED TO SURVIVE THE STUPID SONGS I SANG THEM WHEN THEY WERE KIDS
When my children were small, I sang them many silly songs. They’d usually complain ‘Mom, do you HAVE to sing a song about EVERYTHING???’ If the truth be known, if I didn’t already KNOW an applicable song, I’d make one up on the spot. I just enjoyed singing to those poor suffering young souls.
Someone must have put something in the water they drink because as adults both Rafi and Susan have asked me to tape those very same songs. Interesting…
I started to, but life is a busy adventure and I never got too far with the task. Susan decided to take things in hand and get things started, so on our last visit to her and Michael, she filmed these three ridiculous videos. I admit I’ve never had so much fun or laughed as much.
LEFT: NOTE MY FANCY HAIRDO. RIGHT: SUSAN EATING A DAIRY MILK CHOCOLATE I COULDN’T FIND. SHE HAD TO ORDER IT ONLINE.
It’s also nice to know that long after I’m gone, my children will have these absolutely stupid and awful videos of me in my old age singing a few of their favourites.
Lucky you! You can enjoy them too. Just click on the following.
You can also find them on YouTube and if we get millions of viewers, we’ll be rich. (Chuckle.)
Please don’t interrupt, I’m deep in conversation. With whom? With myself of course. Yes I talk to myself — who else would listen as carefully and give me such expert advice — for free? Professionals charge by the hour.
Problem solving is important and requires extreme concentration. I haven’t lived all these years for nothing… Besides who is more familiar with the circumstances in my life and more capable of figuring out what to do?
I’m also a good listener, especially when I’m doing the talking. I may not always agree, but why argue? I want to hear what I have to say, so I pay total attention.
I DEBATED WELL AT SCHOOL
Am I bored? Insulted? Never! As a good debater (I did well on debating teams at school), when I don’t agree, you’d never hear ME make personal attacks. Not even when I debate myself. Personal attacks aren’t cool, I never say things like: ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about.’
LAUGHTER IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL.
Something I truly value is humour and I CAN, at times, be hilarious. I’m at my best when I make me laugh. Laughing is good for the soul, so I laugh often. It also makes me happy.
MY SON PUT THIS COMMENT ON THE PHOTO. WAS HE TELLING ME SOMETHING?
I’m known in my family for being a nut and appreciate their tolerance because it is certainly true.
Don’t you agree?????
HAPPY FATHERS DAY TO MY SON RAFI, THE BEST FATHER I KNOW!!!
Our provincial premier lost it yesterday and used the F-word in frustration at the legislator. I found it human and amusing. It also reminded me of the time I did that, albeit by accident.
I volunteered for a charitable organization which served the deaf and hard-of-hearing. I liked what they offered to those needing help and was often on the board. The meetings were fascinating and complicated with interpreters to keep everyone abreast of what was being said or signed. Those, like me, who didn’t sign could read everything on a large screen as well.
SIGNINGM FOR MURIEL
I wondered how they signed my name so quickly and asked. They just used ‘M’, since I was the only one on the board whose name started with that letter. Aha!
SIGNING THANK YOU
One year we had a deaf Chairman. I decided, smarty-pants that I am, to learn how to sign a little, like ‘thank you’ so I could thank him at the end of our meetings. I was shown how. I did so. He smiled. It went so well I planned to thank him again after our next meeting — in a month.
SIGNING RUDELY
By the next month I didn’t quite remember it correctly, so apparently instead of signing ‘Thank you’, I signed something rude beginning with ‘F’. Ahem! (The word our premier used yesterday.)
The poor chairman. His face turned red with embarrassment. He shook his hands to show me that wasn’t correct. Someone else told me about my blunder. Do I embarrass easily? I just burst out laughing and asked how to sign ‘I’m sorry’.
It has been raining constantly lately. I must be really tired of it. It is obviously getting to me because yesterday I wrote this very ‘serious’ poem about water. Ahem!
Water is an essential element
They say I’m 60% water I thought it was more, still Water is an essential element.
PERHAPS I WOULD HAVE DROWNED
If there were no water I’d never have learned to swim Perhaps I would have drowned.
MAYBE WE’D ALL DRINK WHISKEY
What would we drink without water? Maybe we’d all drink whiskey with breakfast, lunch and dinner.
WE’D FALL INTO THE FLOWING RIVER
We’d all be so drunk we’d fall into the flowing river On the way home.
WE WOULDN’T HAVE UMBRELLAS.
Without water there would be no rain We wouldn’t have umbrellas And would get soaked through and through.
P.S. I’ve been writing this blog for a long time. You may enjoy this old post, ‘Favorite Sayings’, dated June 8, 2012. Just go to the upper right where the eyeglass is and type in the name.
I don’t recall Hans ever being angry with me, but I do remember that the poor guy was bored with some of the outings we took because of my work. Then, again, he did correct some of my expressions I’d picked up in my childhood.
I’M SURE, AT TIMES, I DID TAX HIS PATIENCE.
My mom immigrated to Canada from Russia and picked up English and French. I picked up some of her sentence structures. Although Hans had immigrated to the U.S. from Vienna himself and English wasn’t his first language, he spoke and wrote it perfectly. Let’s face it, the guy was smarter than me — and funny — and I’m sure, at times, I did tax his patience.
Poor Hans accompanied me to many events I had to cover. The other day when I found this poem and reread it, I laughed. I hope you get a kick out of it too.
HANS ACCOMPANIED ME TO MANY EVENTS I HAD TO COVER. THEY WEREN’T ALWAYS GREAT.
P A T I E N C E .
Who? Whom?
When she says ‘who’ instead of ‘whom’ I do not send her to her room, I patiently correct her once, or twice, or thrice. She’s not a dunce. And tell her when it’s ‘may’ – not ‘can’. I am, indeed, a patient man.
When she invites me to a bash and all I get is turkey hash and then, for breakfast, Decaf, brewed, have I complained, lamented, sued? Invoked the bible, the Koran? No, I’m indeed a patient man.
When I was dragged to ‘Dead Man’s Gulch’, that gross, dung-aggregated mulch of cinematographic Kitsch. Was I observed to gripe, to bitch? No – come and go, ten blocks I ran I am a very patient man. By God, I am a patient man.
I AM, INDEED, A PATIENT MAN.
When she broke up my mountain weekend when manage-editing had freakened my well deserved week’s recreation with job-caused crass abomination. Did I kick her in the can? No – I’m a very patient man. I am, indeed, a patient man.
View from Over the Hill 