Artwill Studio is holding a ‘Doodle Challenge for All’ Mondays and Thursdays for kids and Fridays for adults, always from 11 a.m. to 12 p.m.
So now that wearing a mask indoors is mandatory, I find myself getting more exercise. Sounds like a strange correlation doesn’t it? Let me explain.
The bestie made us each a mask to wear a couple of months ago in case we had to venture out into the world and come in contact with anyone. Since we barely went out in the winter or spring it wasn’t a big deal. We each had our own mask that hung by the front door in case of emergencies. But, like many of you I am sure, as the weather warmed up (and did it ever) we started venturing out into the sunlight more and more often, boldly braving the heat and humidity in search of cold beverages or food to grill on the BBQ.
They say you can’t teach an old dog new tricks and I don’t mind telling you beautiful people that I am firmly in that category. A simple trip out to the corner sto...
Artist Leo Schimanszky's works are on display at Le Chenail Cultural Centre in Hawkesbury.
Random things you take for granted no. 247:
How many times have I driven by someone’s house in the summer and seen a bunch of guys up on the roof in the blaring searing mid-July sun toiling away and thought, “That looks tough – man I am sure glad that I don’t do that job.” Well, I guess I kind of spoke too soon.
I made calls and reached out to a few of the local roofing companies in the area earlier this season to get a quote for re-shingling and re-guttering our garage roof. Silence. Crickets. Seems that it is too small a job for these professionals to even respond to or come look at. Okay, I don’t take it personally, I get that it’s too little coin to bother with when there are big dollars to be made this year. I’ll just do it myself. How hard can it be? I’ve seen it done many times as I cruise by in my air-conditioned motor car (“Once more around the park Bi...
Well that was nice to get outside for just a few short days wasn’t it? We went from frigid winter to friggin’ COVID-19 to freaking hot in just a few weeks it seems. Let’s recap the last 4 ½ months shall we dear readers? See if you have been going through the same trials and tribulations that seem to be plaguing me in 2020.
Cold. Winter. Olives in martini will freeze if I attempt happy hour on the patio. Retreat back indoors to the warm and safe glow of Edison bulbs and my fake wall fireplace. Consume copious amounts of ‘comfort food’ and dream of a time I can venture back out into the wild.
Cold. Winter (I repeat myself when under stress…). Holes start to appear in this year’s edition of Walmart winter sweatpants. Decide that it is probably time to do a load of laundry. Realize that underneath all this wool and flannel the winter ‘layer of loveableness’ has again restricted my already limited wardrobe choices. Retreat to the couch, make a resolut...
So by now all you beauties know about our little buddy Hobbes and his kidney disease. First off – he seems to be doing better and he is getting stronger day by day. Out of the woods? Not sure. But the bestie is quite hopeful and glad to have him home, as is his brother Calvin, who is enjoying the new six times per day feeding schedule.
That is not to say that this journey over the last few weeks has been an easy or a clean and tidy one. Every day we have to give him fluids via enormous syringes along with pills and liquid medication. The kind folks over at the Saint-Lazare animal hospital have been more than patient giving us instructions and even calling us at home to give advice and listen to our questions. But we have done our own homework as well. We headed over to The Google and watched several videos on how to give your cat pills and liquids easily and with no muss nor fuss from the furry patient.
B.S. Yup, I’m calling B.S. Every video we watched is of a sweet, quiet, calm and more...
We’re hoping Hobbes (right) with his brother Calvin is well on his way to recovery.
Hey beautiful people, how are you? I have a question for you – how many of you are pet owners, or should I say have fur babies? Show of hands please. Those of you who follow this little column probably know by now that my bestie and I have two furry felines, Calvin and Hobbes. We have had them for about seven years now and for some reason each cat has bonded to one of us. Hobbes, the thin quiet good looking one has bonded to my wife, worships the ground she walks on actually. The other, Calvin is chubby and loud (he gets called ‘Chub-chub’ or ‘Shortstack’ more often than his real name) and likes to follow me around, even with the music blaring. ‘Shortstack’ also enjoys hanging out watching Sportscentre with me each day with our morning coffee.
Well, for the last few weeks Hobbes has been quite ill. I won’t go into graphic detail but he has been sick multiple times a day and has stopp...
Good morning beautiful people. That is if you are enjoying this week’s edition of this fine publication with your morning coffee. If it is with your afternoon cocktail (I recommend a shaken martini with olives) then good afternoon. For those of you curious about this week’s title, I assure you it is not a Dr. Ruth column.
I wanted to share with you some snippets from a letter sent in to the K.I.T.A. virtual mailbox by a reader. I found it witty and entertaining. It was in response to my article on January 30 (Breaking up is hard to do). I had to go look it up. Let’s face it with my attention span and fading memory I can barely remember what I had for dinner yesterd… - oh look, a squirrel!
This dear reader sent in a response to my list of how the weekdays were going to be named due to how I need to change my habits and become more fit and healthier this year. Here was my proposed list of change:
Last spring I told you beautiful people about my bone disease osteochondroma. It is a disease that is a non-malignant version of cancer that affects the soft cartilage and joints and causes them to grow ‘extoses’ that impede mobility. When these nasty outcroppings start causing excess pain and/or impede movement they need to be exorcised; oops I meant extracted (or in plain English – sawed off). This happy affliction usually stops being a nuisance when your body stops growing. Vertically, that is. My body seems to recently have decided to try and even the odds between vertical and horizontal measurement. But I just happen to be in the lucky 37 per cent where it just decides to hang around past puberty and tag along for the ride. And now that I have played more than 20 matches against it in the operation arena I’m indeed feeling like a seasoned veteran.
Although I am blessed that I am not in the other small percentile of patients where osteochondroma morphs it...
Man oh man do I feel lethargic… listless, lazy, unmotivated... Barely enough energy to get up and go to the pantry, grab more Cheetos and fill up the mixing bowl back up to the brim, refresh the bevy, make a quick pit stop in the loo and return to the safety and sanctuary of the blanket and the couch to binge-watch Peaky Blinders on Netflix. Ah, much better.
Seriously, does this sound like you dear readers? Is it the winter blahs? The lack of vitamin D and no exercise? Or do I just need to come to the realization that (in my case at least) it’s probably got to do with the extra 12-15, oh heck let’s just round it up to 40, pounds I’m packing around the midriff. Starting to look like the Michelin Man or Mr. Stay-Puft and not just because I’m as pasty white and mushy as a bag of full-fat milk.
Like most of you beautiful people, the two of us here in Shangri-la have made a resolution to start being healthier this year. And truth be told, the bestie is rocking it. She is eating healthier, exe...
How do you celebrate the holiday season dear readers? Dashing through the snow? Roasting chestnuts on an open fire? Do you spend it with family? Do you travel? Do you shower your significant other with lavish gifts?
Good for you. Enjoy. This year we have decided not to give each other gifts, with one exception. You see we have been together for a long time (not compared to some of you wonderful married people out there but in hamster years we have been together, well, almost forever). A long blessed wonderful time. Magical, really. So we realized that we don’t need any gifts or some commercialized version of happiness and goodwill towards people …. We just need the gift of each other’s company. Okay, stop. Obviously the sweet addition of Baileys in my coffee this morning has brought out the Harlequin romance or Hallmark card writer in me. Better switch to whiskey to get back on track. Give me a second beautiful people – back in a flask (oops, ‘flash’).
Now don’t get the wrong idea here dear readers. Don’t start talking about what you think I might be talking about when I’m not really talking about what you think I might be talking about. Did that make sense in your head? It almost did in mine, I think.
And to further substantiate your suspicions about what you might think my column is about this week let me tell you what I’ve been watching on Netflix this past week. The bio-pics and documentaries on Woodstock, The Grateful Dead and Bob Dylan’s Rolling Thunder Revue. Groovy, man. Far out. Although the Scorcese movie of Bob Dylan’s tour had interesting insights on some of the great artists of the time, I really enjoyed the Woodstock documentary because it wasn’t really about the music but about the organizers of that iconic event and what they went through to put it all together. And of course all the original footage of the event itself was a real trip.
But I digress (as I am wont to do)…Yes in full disclosur...