Rose's Cantina

Dear Lord: That's right, I'm talking to you. I tried talking to your son last year, but I guess he decided to spend New Year's Eve with Ryan Seacrest. I've been thinking about my resolutions, those pesky things that none of us can ever keep. But being an optimist, I resolve to keep them this year. To wit, I resolve: To stop breaking things. In 2012, I broke my really expensive coffee maker, my Ekornes leather chair which came all the way from Denmark, my tooth, my car, my foot, my heart. And I think, maybe, I might have broke my liver. To stop drinking red wine after dinner. Yeah, right. Let's just say, I'll do the best I can. To get off the damned blood pressure medication which, as far as I can determine, just makes me feel anxious about my blood pressure. To get a full time job that will allow me to enter the bank and have them not laugh at me when I present my meagre paycheques. To stop using MoneyMart. See previous resolutions. To collect ...

I was recently Facebooking about the fact my son, Nick, finally got his G licence and a job so he can start paying rent. The post ended with me saying that all seemed to be right with the world. Then I got blindsided by a model train loving, crankypants senior who was lurking in the weeds, ready to bounce. Someone asked the question: will your son be getting a car? Before I could answer, I saw this posting. Gord Lovelace :  If your son bought a car, it would be like a self-professed poor person publicizing efforts to repair effete Italian coffee machines and imported furniture that millionaires like me could never afford. Well, well. The glove has been thrown down. He has been at me in the past few weeks over the fact that, while my family may be fiscally challenged, I continue to spend my money repairing  luxury items such as a Starbucks barista machine (gift from my son) and an Ekornes chair (which I won in the divorce settlement). Gord then blorges on abou...