Month: December 2019

Before I Get Drunk

Welcome to my Drunk Season – Bailey’s in my coffee, whiskey in my chocolate, wine in my orange juice, beer in my Clamato and gin in my tonic.  Plus….Akvavit with my Julefrokost that may or may not end with my head resting on a blessedly cool toilet between heaves.  I swear that this Christmas I will know when to refuse that one final shot.

Anyway, since I will be drunk for the better part of the next 10 days, I thought I would do up a ‘Year In Review’ while I’m still sober enough to do it.

January

The Viking cheated at Rock, Paper, Scissors  by creating a Super Weapon and broke the World’s Pre-Eminent Decision-Making Tool and then laughed and laughed and laughed like he didn’t just unleash chaos throughout the universe.

February

The Viking insulted his English Doctor before she gave him his Prostate Exam by explaining that his hemorrhoids are the result of his English genes, courtesy of his Mother.

Also in February, The Viking’s Brother, Erik, and his beautiful Annette came for a visit and I cried for a week when they left.

The Saddest Song in the World

March

The Viking hung up a Dart Board, gave me a stiff Gin and Tonic, and 3 Darts.  It went as well as you can imagine.

April

A Girl Guide sold me a box of horrible cookies and I got angry at Dare Inc. because they should be giving better products for poor Girl Guides to sell.  Seriously!

May

The Viking decided to get into a Viking Lawn Mowing Competition with the neighbour but he had neglected his mower so much it needed some serious love.  My favorite Honda Parts Man, Adrian, had a better suggestion.

June

Teddy struck up a relationship with a foul-mouthed Magpie we named Alice Pooper who likes to squawk abuse very early in the morning at the top of its lungs.  Of our two cats, Teddy is the least likely to participate in an insult contest, while Izzie, the Queen of Mean, enjoys nothing more than a shouting and cursing match.  And it’s all icing on the cake if she can dish out slaps for emphasis.

July

I described the joys of the Blanket Fort and gave everyone permission to host their own Pity Party; I even provided a short list of suggested activities.

August

We took a road trip on the Goldwing and I annoyed The Viking by knocking on his helmet every time I needed to communicate my desires.

September

My Father passed away on August 23, 2019, and I wrote the ‘Worst Eulogy in the History of the World’ so I wrote another one that is a far better Eulogy than the one given at the Funeral.

October

I embarrassed myself at Dad’s Funeral because Anxiety makes me do stupid things and it took me over a month to talk about it.

I finally finished writing the book about my parents and while I was transcribing my Great Grandmother’s book in the back of my Parents’ book I found a Skeleton in our closet that is famous in the “Haunting & Spooks” community.

November

Snow arrived and the cats left paw prints on every single horizontal surface, including the stove and my boobs, and I’ve been cursing and shouting ever since.

I also learned the difference between a Carved-In-Stone Law and a Suggestion and made The Viking get all squinty around the eyes because he hates conversations like these.

December

The Viking almost cut off his finger, I almost fainted and an Emergency Doctor was impressed with The Viking’s cutting skills.

And, there you have it.  2019 in a nutshell.  It’s been awkward, sad, wonderful, shocking, heartbreaking and annoying in turns which sums up life in general, I suppose.  I’m pinning my hopes on a better year in 2020.

May 2020 make all your hopes and dreams come true.  For me and The Viking, too.

 

Call the Paramedics! Again!

You may not remember, or maybe you do, but a couple of years ago I almost cut off my hand and The Viking tried to steal my well-deserved sympathy by comparing an ass-bruise with my almost severed hand.  He called it a paper cut, but that’s only because he wanted his ass-bruise to qualify as the most significant injury of the week, thereby rerouting my inalienable right for pampering to himself.

And this isn’t the only time he stole pampering rights.  I had an abscessed tooth that required intravenous antibiotics for 5 days.  He countered with swollen glands the following morning that put him in the hospital for over a week.  So, not only did I not get any pampering, I was running back and forth to the hospital to pamper him, dragging my antibiotic pump with me!

I’m mentioning it here because The Viking almost cut his finger off with a box cutter which created a moment of utter confusion because he literally reversed the Natural Injury/Disease Time Continuum.  He came running in the house drizzling blood and swearing profusely and time slowed down as my mind desperately tried to understand what was happening.  His fountain of blood can only happen if a fountain of blood has already erupted from me.  That’s how our shit works.  First me…..then him!  But I hadn’t seen any of my blood or felt any pain and my limbs were all present and accounted for which, logically, would mean I am uninjured.  But, if I’m uninjured and he is injured, something has gone terribly wrong in the Universe.

He fiddles around in the shop with things I can only assume are mechanically magical and now, in light of these events, my only reasonable conclusion is that he accidentally stepped out of the Mechanic Pentagram and unleashed a Demon.  Of course, when you fiddle with magic you know that eventually something unintended will happen, but I had thought/hoped it would involve less blood and more Robots.  Cooking and cleaning Robots to be exact.

Once Time returned to its normal progression, I ran for the gigantic first aid kit* while he drizzled blood into the kitchen sink.  I grabbed a roll of gauze and started wrapping it around his neck.  He said, “What the fuck are you doing?!”  And I said, “Installing a Tourniquet”.  Apparently, crisis humor isn’t appreciated in the middle of a crisis.

He started examining the cut more carefully.  “I think it went right to the bone.”

I said, “Oh my god!” and almost fainted.

Yes.  I almost fainted.  Meaning, he got hurt and I was pre-empting his injury.  He sat on a kitchen chair holding pressure on the cut while I sat on a kitchen chair with my head between my knees, sucking in air like a guppy out of water.  After a couple of minutes, I thought I was okay and sat up and almost passed out again!  It took me 20 fucking minutes to get a grip!  To add insult to injury – my injury, obviously – he was happily calling me “Pale Face” which is Danishy for “Pasty Face”.

We needed to get to the hospital, I knew that immediately.  The Viking disagreed.  We should wait and see if it would quit bleeding on its own.  I had wrapped some gauze around the middle finger fairly tight and I was a little concerned about leaving it on too long.  Two and a half hours later, it was still pumping out blood and would obviously need professional medical help.

Four and a half hours after that, the ER Doctor was impressed that The Viking had managed to cut his finger so deep that he severed the main blood vessel and yet hadn’t severed the nerve.  It took 5 stitches to sew his finger back together.

So, to recap:  The Viking reversed the Natural Injury/Disease Time Continuum and in so doing may or may not have created a demon in the shop but definitely didn’t create a Robot that could cook and clean.  Being so confused by the shifting of reality, I co-opted his pampering opportunity by almost fainting.  I finally got to use the Gigantic, Industrial-Sized First Aid Kit and it wasn’t on myself.  The Viking called me a name, I put a tourniquet around his neck and an ER Doctor was impressed with The Viking’s cutting talents.

And that’s how you get yourself an extra-long weekend on strict Doctor’s orders.  And also additional state-of-the-art medical supplies for the next attempted amputation.

 

*He bought the largest kit available because he assumed I would hack a limb off while cleaning Cauliflower one day and he wanted to be “prepared”.  I took a brief moment to remind him of that and to point out exactly who almost cut what off first.