TheOttawacker

By TheOttawacker

Catching up on mundanity

Bit of a turning point in the weather today, as we go below freezing for the first time. It is supposed to warm up again next week, so it is hard to know what to think. When does this Indian Summer mean we are not getting a winter? It seems a bit much for one so vehemently anti-winter to start complaining about the lack of the cold, but there you go. I am a contradiction wrapped up in an enigma wrapped up in a pain in the arse.
 
Spent the morning catching up on the various chores I had neglected. Among the highlights was pouring copious amounts of Drano down the downstairs bathroom sink; spending far too long on laundry; catching up on my blips; and, finding out why our insurance company (Desjardins) have suddenly taken to only reimbursing half of what Ottawacker Jr.’s dental costs are. It’s the nickel-and-diming that kills you.
 
In the afternoon, I had the second of my gym classes with Anna this week. It was fine, she is, I think, mellowing. Although I realise now that next week’s class is the last of the ones I have booked. I took a quick look at the costs for additional classes and came to the conclusion that they are way too expensive. If I want to book 48 in one go, I can get them for $75 a pop (plus taxes): as much as I benefit from being obliged to go and suffer, I can’t justify spending $4,000 for a six-month gym membership. Not even in Canadian dollars. So…
 
In the evening, we cooked ribs and I relented and let Ottawacker Jr. watch the fourth of the Harry Potter movies. In Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, it was interesting to see that his scar moved less across his forehead. There was also a curious scene with Daniel Radcliffe in the bath with a ghost, which made me wonder what the correct term for that would be: phantasmaphilia?
 
The blip is actually from yesterday: the magnificence of our flame tree in the final manifestations of its splendour is too good to not use. Besides, the alternative would have been my taking a photo of my smalls – and nobody needs to see that.

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