Saturday, December 03, 2005

Slush fund

The day started out with a few 90-degree spins on some pretty slick roads. Uh, it's Canada, but have you people heard of plowing? I didn't realize that was a new concept out here. First you've got to fight the pull of the drifts and then you get out of the SUV and slide on the ice and land in a pile of slush. Not the nice, white powdery stuff. The grey-brown soppy guck that grows faster than bacteria in a uni student's fridge.

I just remembered that it's been a while since I dropped some coins into the box marked "Harrogate bar tab". Yep, that's right, thought I'd squirrel away the bucks all winter so that next July, when I get home from England (and Scotland if I manage it again this trip) I don't have to explain to my husband why I spent so much at the hotel but didn't bring as many books home. Of course, I'm sure I'd never spend as much as some people I could mention (Stuart, Mike...)

And this with Christmas shopping conspiring to rob me of every cent I can spare because the number of kids is multiplying - yep, I still have the hubby and now I have two nephews instead of just one. And for a baby, Dashiell has a surprisingly long wishlist. Must have worked out the telepathy early...or is that just the evil parents conspiring to squander our money instead of theirs?

Ah, love and joy and goodwill to all men. Judging from the way people were fighting over the last 'build your own lightsaber' sets at Toys R Us, it's more like the season to get your claws out. Seems like a good time to go find the 'Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer' cd...

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