Wednesday, 2 July 2014

Happy birthday to me, Larry David and Lindsay Lohan







The bailing on my Canada Day party began in earnest in the morning, with the first phone call and rumbling of thunder signaling that trouble was coming.
Brenda had a stomach bug. No worries, totally understandable, nobody wants to scarf Adam's hot sausages and have to re-examine them on the way up.
Then Ray called to say he didn't like the weather reports much, and quoted Environment Canada, that ace predictor of the climes, which warned that we in Southern Ontario were on a tornado watch.
What the? Since when is Constance Bay hugging the banks of the Niagara River?
Then my daughter called to say her bestie boy was stricken by flu-like symptoms, leaving me wondering if she and Brenda were just trying to get their stories straight.
Rapidly, it became clear that we would be eating slaw til my next Canada Day celebration.
Imagine Canadians who are afraid of a little rain.
It's certainly not the image projected by CanLit or the CBC.
Speaking of the CBC, did you see Rosie Barton interviewing Stephen Harper, giggling as she tried to get him to say some interesting, fun or cute. Instead, Harper, true to form blorged on about the historic importance of Canada Day, the importance of the troops and police in keeping us safe.
Gosh, I miss Jack Layton.
As the hordes bailed, I retired to the living room to watch Les Miserables for the thousandth time.
Finally, hardier guests began to straggle in .
There was the lovely and talented Tess, an old pal from the Journal days, who arrived with hummus, followed in short order by the Widow Jennette and young Paulo who arrived on a motorized bicycle.
And of course, the crew in the basement could be counted upon to scarf a few dogs.
That's what's great about having three kids, plus spouses, plus spawns.
You can always count on them as seat fillers to pump up the crowd.
The thing about it all, it didn't rain here at all except for a short shower burst. The menacing clouds simply swirled around the edge of our neighborhood, preferring to spill their contents on Kanata, Aylmer, Vanier and Orleans.
God hates the suburbs, that's what I think.
Anyway, it was an interesting day. Tess filled me in on what's happening in her life as a single granny waiting on some surgery. Paulo entertained us with details of his divorce, stuff, truly that would curl your toes. And Jennette simply enjoyed the spoils of the day -- bite after every appreciative bite.
Today, we will do it all over again, serving leftovers to the remaining children and their spouses, adding in some shrimp on the barbie for extra measure.
It's my birthday today and I will be enjoying some tequila on the patio. And cake.
Frankly after one of my powerhouse concoctions, I doubt I'll even care if anybody shows up.
I will be down for the count by 9 p.m.
That is a certainty.
Still, I will be grateful. The size of the crowd doesn't matter.
It's the quality of the storytelling that counts.
Happy birthday to me.
And Larry David.
And Lindsay Lohan.
Have a great day.
 

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