Against the Odds

Hey Humble Readers...

So do you remember that tomato plant I bought with high hopes back in June? 

And do you remember when I said, "I want to successfully grow one tomato.  Just one."  And then I'll be satisfied...

And do you remember me griping about how my poor little tomato plant got beat up big time by a hail storm? 

Well, I pretty much gave up hope.  All the flowers had been knocked off, and the leaves looked like swiss cheese.  I stopped watering it about a week before we went on vacation and in the intense heat, it looked like it was going to be toast any day. 

I had actually asked my Beloved to throw the plant away because it depressed me to see it out there on our balcony, all wilty.  But in the busy-ness in the run up to leaving on vacation, it got forgotten. 

When we got back from K-town, I opened our front curtains and this is what I saw...

Do you see it?  I didn't notice it at first.  But then that little green gem just sort of jumped out at me.  The leaves were all shrivelled and brown.  But there was this maverick tomato, just hanging on for dear life. 

I left it on the plant, figuring that I couldn't do anything at this point to really help it along.  I would leave it up to fate (if I believed in such a thing).  I just sat back and let it turn from green to a pretty orangey red.

Well, this is what I harvested today...

And just to give you some idea of comparison...

I can't help but laugh at my puny little tomato.  It's sooooo dinky.  But it's all mine! 

Now I just have to decide how I'm going to eat it...

Bugs in my Bra

Today was Dad C's memorial service.

It was hard and good and funny and sad and enjoyable and heartbreaking and just how it should have been.

Mom C thought she was being generous when she told the curling club and the ladies catering the lunch that we would expect 150 people. There were 250 at least! Standing room only, to celebrate an incredibly great man.

We had a table display of some of Dad's sports memorabilia (including a pair of hockey skates that had been sharpened so many times that there was nothing of the blade left), some picture displays (Dad was really built back in the day... all that hockey, baseball, and curling!), and some beautiful flowers. I couldn't spend much time looking at the memorial table initially. It was just too hard. But I really loved the pictures.

My Beloved was the emcee for the service, and I think he did an incredible job. I was so impressed with how strong he was through it all. My BIL, D (the oldest) read a poem he wrote for Dad for his 60th birthday, and BIL K (married to my Beloved's sister, P) gave the eulogy.

One of the highlights of the service was when a woman came up to share some memories of Dad... she is the mother of a now rather highly ranked Canadian curler (who, I think, has some high olympic hopes). She shared about Dad's influence on her son's life, about how Dad inspired her boy to take up curling and how he coached the boy for years. It was really special to hear her appreciation for all Dad did for junior curlers in the community.

After the service and the lunch, when we were all emotionally spent and extremely overheated from the crowded room, we went back to Mom's house (man it's weird to call it that). Several members of the extended family joined us for the afternoon and evening. There were a few occasions that I had to remind myself that Dad wasn't going to walk around the corner tinkling the ice in his glass of pep.si.

Later in the afternoon, the wine was poured and we all started to get a little goofy. My Beloved's family are happy drunks (not that they are drunks... but they get silly when they have had a few) and it got a little loud. We were inside and outside... fighting over lawnchairs, watching people play 'the golf ball game' (I don't know what it's called, but its pretty popular around here as an outdoor game).

In Mom and Dad's yard there are a couple of trees that at this time of year, are loaded with inedible berries. Because of all these berries, there are a lot of aphids.

Now, when I say a lot, I mean A LOT! They were everywhere. We were all covered in them. They were all over my hair, my shirt, occassionally crawling up under my skirt, in my drink and, as the title of this post suggests, down my shirt and in my bra. We have been home for almost an hour and I still feel itchy.

At one point, I made a comment to one of my tipsy SIL about the bugs crawling up my legs and down my bra and that was it... we were all killing ourselves laughing. I was extremely red in the face (altho that was probably the wine).

It felt good to laugh like that with the family... and I know that Dad would approve.

Galactic Badness!

Well Humble Readers, it's been a couple of days... a real @#$! couple of days! Now, don't get me wrong, nothing tragic has happened. Uncle Murphy has been visiting and schooling me in his particular branch of the legal system.

Most of it is work specific, so I won't go into it, but two stories are actually kind of funny now. Both have to do with me trying to eat lunch while at work.

Yesterday, after dealing with several aggravating things (having to be at work at 7am, two key staff members calling in sick, computer issues, and grumpy staff and customers, etc) I was dying to go for my lunch break. I get out of the store, and it's raining. I get to the juice/smoothie place down the block, place my order, open my wallet to pay for my pineapple-strawberry frozen concoction and panini... only to discover that my Beloved has my debit card.

And I have no cash.

Flat broke.

Starving.

And that pineappley frozen goodness is there in front of me. Taunting me.

I ask the girl behind the till to please be patient. On my dash through the rain back to the store, I call my Beloved and not so politely ask him to check his jacket pocket. Sure enough, my card is there. Grrr! He can't get it to me for at least another half hour. I run into my store, and track down my boss. I find him in the office (thankfully!) and beg to borrow some cash. (how humiliating!) He is a kind and generous soul and takes pity on me, and I then dash back to the smoothie place, pay for my lunch, and my day continues.

Fast forward to this morning at 11:30, lunchtime. This morning was relatively ok. A few computer glitches, a few cranky customers, but mostly all is well. I head out of the store and down to my lovely juice place. I order my pineappley-strawberry frozen delight and my panini (I'm nothing if not a creature of habit). This time, all goes well... payment is made and I head back to the store.

I'm almost to the staff room, having only taken a few sips from my pineapple-strawberry frozen cup of heavenly goodness. I'm looking forward to sitting down with my smoothie, my sandwich, and my book and enjoying my break. One of the staff comes up behind me, startling me. I swear she walks on cat feet... I totally didn't hear her approach and when she asked me a question she startled me so much that I actually squeezed the cup so hard that I put my thumb through the cup.

So now I'm standing just outside the staff room door, with frozen pineappley-strawberry goodness gushing out of the cup... over my hand... down my arm... all over my shirt... and my new shoes... and the carpet.

And the staff member who startled me? She's standing there laughing her ass off at me!

So I have to hustle into the staff room and dump what's left of my drink into the garbage *sniff* and attempt to make some sense out of the mess. I ended up spending half my break getting cleaned up (and cleaning up the carpet).

And then ate my panini with a co.ke from the vending machine instead. *pout*

So my Humble Readers, I ask you... Dare I tempt fate (if I actually believed in fate) tomorrow and go for a smoothie again?

What the heck... what else could possibly go wrong?