How to Eat an Elephant

Photo taken by my mother-in-law, Jean Sibbald, when she was in Kenya last year.

First: DON'T eat elephants! (Also, don't buy ivory.*)

Second: Hypothetically speaking, eating an elephant is a daunting task. Even if you were starving, it would be hard to eat an entire elephant before it started to rot. Today, I'm thinking about this as a metaphor.

How I Spent My (Extremely Awkward) Summer Vacation

During the summer between grade seven and grade eight, my friend "Margaret" invited, nay begged me to go to her family's cottage for a couple of weeks with her, her mother (Alice), and their tenant (Jack), but without her father.

Jack, as it happened, was Alice's lover as well. Margaret told me that as an "only child" she dreaded being up at the cottage with the two fornicators. I was to be the distraction.

Grow where you're planted.

Grow where you are planted.

When I was a newlywed military wife, someone told me that it was important to "grow where you're planted." At the time, I thought, "Well, duh," but as years -- and moves -- came and went, I learned it wasn't as easy as all that. And I've known military spouses who've never stopped yearning to get back to that one golden posting . . .

Another Parking Flashback

Finally remembered where I parked the car.

You know, it's pretty remarkable that I do not have anxiety attacks whenever I leave my car in a parking lot. I've written about at least one of my experiences in a parking garage. Oh, yeah, and then there was the time I ripped off the side mirror. And those other times. Here's another tale.

Buh-bye ghastly green!

I can't tell you how happy I was to see that moss green disappear.

Last night, for the first time since we moved in, we were able to sit in the living room without feeling like we needed to install pot lights. I didn't even hang up the string of twinkle lights that used to live in the window.

It felt good.