Month: December 2016

You Bring The Cheesecake

If we were having coffee, I’d say thank you.  Thank you for meeting me at a coffee table, at the other end of a screen, on a curb, or on my couch. Thank you for reading my rambles. Thanks for the books, and the butterfly magnets and the mural. Thanks for beers, real or fake, and the ones I owe you. Thanks for the Altoids and the Beatles.  Even the unsolicited advice.  It makes for good material. Thanks for those de-stress colouring books, which I actually find really stressful.   Thanks for not mentioning I need a haircut, and eye makeup.  And possibly more Prozac. Thanks for the Baileys.  And for the glass with my name on it.  And for being there when we got the house.  And helping us move into it. Thank you to Dad and Anne, for making Christmas dinner, and other stuff.  And thanks for being there that other night when I lost my shit. Thanks for making a path for me, for fixing our heat, and for running ALL the hotels we’ve stayed in this year. Thanks to Isla, for being an awesome individual, for making me laugh and cry.  And for falling asleep on me sometimes, still. And thanks to Neil, for leaving when I turn on country music, and for always coming back.  I promise to never blog about the time I...

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Christmas Coffee With The Grinch

If we were having coffee, I’d introduce you to our new as yet unnamed coffee machine. As an early Christmas present from me to us, the coffee machine Neil bought me when we first started dating has been upgraded to something from the future. Actually, I think we should call it Jetson. What sort of um, coffee experience would you like? My favourite so far is a mild double-shot medium-hot latte. In my house. What can I get you? After you figure that out, I’d show you the Christmas tree we put up two weeks ago. It doesn’t look like that anymore. Isla likes to hide the decorations on us. You might be sitting on one right now. If we were having coffee I’d tell you we took Isla to see Santa last weekend. It was in the midst of shopping, everyone was in a bad mood, and Santa might have called me the Grinch. Before we’d lined up, Isla had a tantrum in a coffee shop because they’d run out of orange juice. It was kinda my fault. We’d been staying in a hotel the night before. It was 300 degrees in the room, so I drank our not really endless supply of OJ that we drag around where ever we go. We arrived to the mall early. So early, most places were still closed. Except the coffee...

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She Could Hardly Wait

Isla was super excited to go to her Christmas party this afternoon.     Just look at that  my face.  Should have been our Christmas card. Merry, Merry from us over here.     If you enjoyed this post, please consider voting for Gin & Lemonade in the Best Overall Blogger category at the Annual Bloggers Bash Awards here. Much appreciated, thank you!...

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Abstract Sandwiches

On Tuesday, when I picked Isla up from nursery, she hugged my lap as she sometimes does. ‘I MISSED you, Mummy.’ ‘Really?’ I asked.  She’s a Daddy’s girl, see.  I am obviously still questioning every bit of affection she doles out.  To me. ‘Yeah,’ she said ‘Did someone pay you to say that?’ ‘Uhm.  No.’ When I’m happy, my eyes kinda crinkle up until you can’t see them.  Like Isla’s.  Because, y’know, I’m her mother. I did a little dance in the carpark, my day made at one o’clock. ‘Mummy funny,’ she laughs. Yeah, I s’pose I am, a bit. Isla’s funny, too.  She has my eye crinkle and my sarcasm. Yesterday, she was loaded with big foam puzzle pieces.  Her arms were so full she was just a stripey sweater on legs. ‘I LOVE you,’ I tell her.  ‘Where did you come from?’ She cranes her neck and looks at me sideways.  It is my own incredulous face looking back at me. ‘From my bedroom,’ she says. True enough. I did the pee-pee laugh with that one.  Also true. Since Isla’s started nursery, I’ve been doing some thinking.  I’ve also been doing some Math, mostly at 4AM.  Mayhaps, more about that later. For now, I will say this: Don’t do Math at 4AM. Anyway.  This is what I’ve been thinking.  Since Isla started doing things.  Outside the house....

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