Wow! No blog in the hopper for today!

So I'm writing this one on the fly for the first time in ages! Live to air, so to speak.

I'm all dressed and ready to go grocery shopping and I'm wearing (among actual clothing) really red lipstick, a favourite of my mum's, and her pearl earrings. Why? Because I dreamt about her last night.

I love dreaming about my mother. It happens once every few months and I really treasure them. So this is that happened:

My mother, my aunt Bernice (her next oldest sister and spitting image of her) and I were sitting on a couch together. Mum was wearing a blue striped turtleneck that I loved but gave to Goodwill years ago when I got too fat it shrunk. She told us that she had a scan and the original cancer was gone but there was something new and she pointed to her breasts. She wasn't sad at all, her eyes were twinkling and she had a huge sheepish grin on her face like she was telling us that she accidentally left the parking brake off and let the car go down the driveway into traffic.

I started to cry while my aunt comforted me and my mother rushed up and out of the room. She came back with a large, gorgeous, brown worn leather designer purse and told me she wanted me to have it. Even after 15 years long gone the woman still knows how to cheer me up. I look inside and among the old kleenexes, Halls lozenges and purse dust, I found two ticket stubs from a ballet that she and I had gone to at Place Des Arts in 1977 when I was 10.

Then the alarm went off and I was still crying. How strange was that dream? So since today is errand day, I'm going to get a lotto ticket and play 1-9-7-7. Maybe it's an omen. Of course it could mean that I'm destined to spend $1,977 dollars on a new bag. So either way it's a win.

kxx

You can't spell smother without "mother"

I'm a mother in every sense of the word. Both the noun and the verb. Case in point:

I was on my way to the toilet at work (where I’ve barely been a week, keep in mind... the job, not the toilet) and there was someone coming out of the kitchen. Don’t get me started on the locations of both places. Anyway, this guy, who I’m sure I was introduced to but whose name I’ve promptly forgotten, came out holding a can of pop. He sheepishly said to me as I passed “I was thirsty.”

It was small talk because we were in a narrow hallway going in opposite directions so I’m sure he didn’t expect the (s)mothering answer I gave: “Well you should be drinking water, then. It’s better for you.”

Yaaargh! Really? This is a complete stranger at a job where I haven’t even been working seven days. But the comment came out just like I was talking to one of my kids. Obviously you can give a mother a full time job out of the house but you can’t stop her from mothering once she gets there. Mothers. Driving people crazy since the dawn of time. And she doesn’t even have to be yours. Or know you in any way.

Hoo boy…

kxx

I've had a bad cough for a couple of weeks

And trying to soothe it "old school" made me realize that as potent as Vicks smells, it still smells like being taken care of. It has a motherly, cosy, soothing and loved smell. It's like a mother's hug. A greasy, sinus opening, mentholated squeeze...

kxx