We were gobsmacked when the cop pulled us over last September. I was sure hubby had been speeding but only barely.
"Guess you've just had a birthday, eh?" the cop says to hubby.
"Nope," is his reply, "My birthday's in October."
Sticking his head a little further in our window, he says, "Guess you've just had a birthday, eh?" to me.
"No," I reply -- thinking what the Hell?! "My birthday's in January."
"Well, your license sticker is expired. Expired in July." He takes down the vitals and hands hubby a ticket for $110 but advises us to fight it as the sticker is unrelated to our birthdays. "See you in court," he says tipping his hat politely.
As this happened on our way to Montreal, we decide to immediately head to the Department of Transport to renew our yearly sticker as we don't want to risk the Quebec police giving us a second ticket.
In Canada, sticker renewals are geared to the owner's birthday, but in our case, it's just a haphazard date with no relation to either of our birthdays. Plus the DOT usually advises people by mail to renew a month before the sticker expires but we hadn't received any notice. So, today was our day (read my day since hubby couldn't make it) in court.
I sit in a very modern if small courtroom amongst all types, ages of people there to fight whatever penalty has been dealt them. My seatmates are two young women; one caught tailgating a police car, the other speeding. I note from appearance there are a preponderance of people of various cultures but that is typically Canadian; we're a nation of all-sorts. There is a translator there for some Arabic-speaker but nothing for the lady who speaks French. Ummm. The judge is a lady who, it is quickly apparent, doesn't take any s--t as we like to say in Ontario.
My husband's name is called; I stand and identify myself on his behalf, and state "Guilty with an explanation." Of course we are guilty; we didn't have the updated sticker so no quarrel there. But I explain our is a relatively new car for which we expected a renewal sticker in October. "Didn't you notice the expired sticker?" she asked incredulously.
"No," I replied in all honesty. "We always approach the car from the front."
"How long have you been driving?" she asked.
I admit my face must have revealed my distaste for her question. After all wasn't her question age-ist and what did it have to do with our noticing a sticker? Did she mean I've been driving so long I can no longer see? I came this close to questioning her question but quickly thought the better of it given her no-nonsense demeanor.
I paused for effect (as if calculating, after all I've been driving for 40 years which even I find a long time), then replied "Since I was 16, Your Worship."
No way, was I giving away my age! I think she realized her faux pas at this point and while more or less stating we should have known better (and we should have, I guess), she reduced the charge to $20. To this the Court adds a victim support surcharge of some sort so the whole thing came to $35, saving us about $75 in grocery money. So who won? Who lost? I guess it's a draw but it did teach me being half right is worth fighting for.
Tuesday, February 5, 2008
Monday, February 4, 2008
Dodging the Bullet
As I'm just back from galavanting in Northern Ontario, there are emails and voicemails to return. One, from Dr. C. (the colon specialist) had to wait until today as there is no point in trying to reach a doctor on the weekend.
So on Saturday I merely took note he had called, and wrote down his number. On Sunday, I started thinking about the call. Most doctors don't call to tell you good news so...was it possible he had bad news? Most doctors get their receptionists to call on their behalf. Most doctors don't bother calling you if there is nothing to worry about. They only call when it's serious. Dr. C. himself had left the message. I don't like this.
Laying in bed, I wondered how I'd handle bad news. I don't feel any different but then why should I? I thought how it might be possible my body has a cancer. I head off to aquafit class at 9:30am, resolving not to let the call I had to make ruin my day; I'd call when I got home. I try not to think about it while enjoying coffee and socializing with my fellow aquacizers, postponing reality for a few hours.
Back home, I make the call. Dr. C. himself picks up the phone. Sounds a little confused at first then recalls (likely referring to a list) why he called. "No worries. Just to let you know the polyps we removed were benign." My relief is palpable, and I thank him, feeling at the same time like I've just dodged a bullet.
So on Saturday I merely took note he had called, and wrote down his number. On Sunday, I started thinking about the call. Most doctors don't call to tell you good news so...was it possible he had bad news? Most doctors get their receptionists to call on their behalf. Most doctors don't bother calling you if there is nothing to worry about. They only call when it's serious. Dr. C. himself had left the message. I don't like this.
Laying in bed, I wondered how I'd handle bad news. I don't feel any different but then why should I? I thought how it might be possible my body has a cancer. I head off to aquafit class at 9:30am, resolving not to let the call I had to make ruin my day; I'd call when I got home. I try not to think about it while enjoying coffee and socializing with my fellow aquacizers, postponing reality for a few hours.
Back home, I make the call. Dr. C. himself picks up the phone. Sounds a little confused at first then recalls (likely referring to a list) why he called. "No worries. Just to let you know the polyps we removed were benign." My relief is palpable, and I thank him, feeling at the same time like I've just dodged a bullet.
Sunday, February 3, 2008
Baby Noah
Amazingly, we have had little grief in our extended family but two years ago, my nephew and his wife lost their first baby. I wrote this for them, and now (I hope with their blessing) I offer it to the universe that it may help any others experiencing the loss of a child.
There is a place beneath my heart where you began.
Where we began, your Dad and I,
to love, to hope, to talk to you;
amazed we two had become three. Were soon to be a family.
And you, in turn, and in your way, let us know too, "Yes, I am here!"
Your wee heartbeat beneath my own,
a sign you were becoming, being,
striving to complete our world.
Our babe, an Angel? God decreed.
He changed His plan, despite our need,
left us bereft of you, our precious little one.
There is a place within our hearts where, tho you've gone,
the empty space you left behind wells up with joy, with gratitude,
that we did hold you in our arms
--if only for a little while--
and heart to heart, soft-kissed your brow, blessed you with tears,
named and knew you:
Noah
then, lovingly
we let you go
...safe...
to the arms
of those we love,
of those who wait,
who love you now
at Heaven's Gate.
Saturday, February 2, 2008
On the Road (5) - Home!
We braved all Hwy 11 could throw at us (blowing snow, overturned vehicles, & menacing rigs), to arrive in North Bay safe and sound. We immediately hit Zenone's as Baby Sister said they had a 75% sale going. Yes, each of us indulged but only on the best of buys. Then we headed off down dark and dangerous Hwy 17 to meet up with Baby Brother at the Bonfield corner resto (new) which fed us handsomely. I even indulged in some Nova Scotia cake, yummy, warm and dripping with whipped cream. Thank God this week is coming to an end. Soon I won't be able to zip up my jeans!
As siblings are wont to do, we stayed up yakking far too late or maybe I should say early as it was 5am before we hit the sack only to have Sister #2 rouse us at 8am to hit the road once again. We were almost the filling in a sandwich collision but everyone managed to brake with mere inches to spare. Yes, my belief in the Big Guy or Girl is growing incrementally! The scenery was magnificent as every tree was frosted and laden with heavy snow...truly a winter wonderland. So clichéed but so true. When I appreciate the land this way I sometimes find it hard to envisage leaving it all behind for warmer climes in a year or two. What is winter without snow?
Once home, I crashed. Hubby was at work, the power was out (Hydro One diligently working on something or other) and only Dolly, the cat, to greet me. Feels so good to be home!
As siblings are wont to do, we stayed up yakking far too late or maybe I should say early as it was 5am before we hit the sack only to have Sister #2 rouse us at 8am to hit the road once again. We were almost the filling in a sandwich collision but everyone managed to brake with mere inches to spare. Yes, my belief in the Big Guy or Girl is growing incrementally! The scenery was magnificent as every tree was frosted and laden with heavy snow...truly a winter wonderland. So clichéed but so true. When I appreciate the land this way I sometimes find it hard to envisage leaving it all behind for warmer climes in a year or two. What is winter without snow?
Once home, I crashed. Hubby was at work, the power was out (Hydro One diligently working on something or other) and only Dolly, the cat, to greet me. Feels so good to be home!
Friday, February 1, 2008
On the Road (4)
Jan. 31: Today is sister No. 3's 60th birthday! As is her perogative, she opted out of the pre-dawn yoga class. Believe it or not, sister No. 1 (eldest), me (#3) and baby sister (#4) actually successfully rose before the dawn and did the yoga class! It was abs-focussed so we're all feeling it. The instructor was young (of course), tremendously fit (she seems to spring to her feet like a gazelle...truly inspiring) and surprisingly honest: "This movement is to improve your inner organs and release gas." Which of course people did according to the sudden change in the room odour (as reported by sister #1; I have a poor sense of smell, thank Heavens).
I had a very hard time controlling my inner laughter (I was supposed to be releasing my inner teacher) as it quickly became apparent that sister #4 breathes like a bull in heat. The entire class was silent as we went about the various postures and poses imposed by the yogi except for sister's heavy breathing which was a tad disconcerting. As all breathing is to be inhaled and exhaled through the nose, flying snot was a concern to all. All said, it was a marvelous experience and we finished just as the sun was awakening. I looked out the window to see Lake Temiskaming in all her icy glory, rimmed on the far shore by pre-Cambrian Shield firs, dappled here and there with multi-coloured fish huts, all under a sky turning all shades of pinky purple. Truly a glorious sight.
Once hom
e, of course, we agreed sister #4 and I would x-country ski and the others (being older and less inclined) would shop. Sister #4 is a skate-skier who graciously accommodates my slower classic style but she insisted on the Blue Trail (aka the Trail From Hell). At least my skis were waxed more appropriately to the weather and I could actually ascend some of the inclines before resorting to the old herringbone approach or what I call doing the clodhopper. Nothing is better for the ego than looking like an old penquin on her last legs, criss-crossing skis and hauling ass to get up each hill. But the downslide was exhiliarating if a tad daunting. I'd pass a sign saying "To avoid steep hill" and an arrow. When I'd query sister about the steepness, I'd get: "Oh, it's not so bad; you can do it!" So, like a fool, I did it, praying the whole time I wouldn't break a leg and have to give up expensive non-refundable air tickets to Florida.
Suffice to say, we survived, spent a few calories which dinner more than replaced. We tried to watch 2 videos: Wild Hogs and Jindabyne, but too much food and wine saw Wild Hogs go by with 3 of us sleeping soundly as John Travolta and his cronies caroused, but I'd highly recommend Jindabyne which we only picked up because I like actress Laura Linney. It's a moral tale and Baby Sister's husband surprised us all when he said he'd do the same thing as the men in the movie. Well, you'll just have to watch this movie to know what decision I'm talking about but we were aghast!
Today: Baby sister and her friends want to see Elton John who is coming to the Sudbury Arena so we were all tasked with getting on the phones and/or internet to reserve tickets. The box office opened at 10am so the pyjama gang is doing their thing while drinking coffee spiked with creamy booze. What a way to live! I fake success just to get the old girls' heart rates up but ultimately no one gets through until the darn thing is all sold out. They'll have to make do, if they're lucky, with scalper's tickets.
The plan today is to dine with one of Baby Sister's best friends, Linda -- yum! Chinese food -- like we need to eat more! Then we'll head to North Bay to visit our Baby Brother and, weather depending, either spend the night or move on to home. We never did make it to Sudbury as we'd originally planned as we couldn't raise the relatives there and didn't want to chance arriving at a house with no one home. Of course, it's also possible the spectre of four pre-and post-menopausal women arriving on your doorstep might be enough to make even the most loving of relatives head for the hills! Ciao, bambinos and bambinas!
I had a very hard time controlling my inner laughter (I was supposed to be releasing my inner teacher) as it quickly became apparent that sister #4 breathes like a bull in heat. The entire class was silent as we went about the various postures and poses imposed by the yogi except for sister's heavy breathing which was a tad disconcerting. As all breathing is to be inhaled and exhaled through the nose, flying snot was a concern to all. All said, it was a marvelous experience and we finished just as the sun was awakening. I looked out the window to see Lake Temiskaming in all her icy glory, rimmed on the far shore by pre-Cambrian Shield firs, dappled here and there with multi-coloured fish huts, all under a sky turning all shades of pinky purple. Truly a glorious sight.
Once hom
e, of course, we agreed sister #4 and I would x-country ski and the others (being older and less inclined) would shop. Sister #4 is a skate-skier who graciously accommodates my slower classic style but she insisted on the Blue Trail (aka the Trail From Hell). At least my skis were waxed more appropriately to the weather and I could actually ascend some of the inclines before resorting to the old herringbone approach or what I call doing the clodhopper. Nothing is better for the ego than looking like an old penquin on her last legs, criss-crossing skis and hauling ass to get up each hill. But the downslide was exhiliarating if a tad daunting. I'd pass a sign saying "To avoid steep hill" and an arrow. When I'd query sister about the steepness, I'd get: "Oh, it's not so bad; you can do it!" So, like a fool, I did it, praying the whole time I wouldn't break a leg and have to give up expensive non-refundable air tickets to Florida.Suffice to say, we survived, spent a few calories which dinner more than replaced. We tried to watch 2 videos: Wild Hogs and Jindabyne, but too much food and wine saw Wild Hogs go by with 3 of us sleeping soundly as John Travolta and his cronies caroused, but I'd highly recommend Jindabyne which we only picked up because I like actress Laura Linney. It's a moral tale and Baby Sister's husband surprised us all when he said he'd do the same thing as the men in the movie. Well, you'll just have to watch this movie to know what decision I'm talking about but we were aghast!
Today: Baby sister and her friends want to see Elton John who is coming to the Sudbury Arena so we were all tasked with getting on the phones and/or internet to reserve tickets. The box office opened at 10am so the pyjama gang is doing their thing while drinking coffee spiked with creamy booze. What a way to live! I fake success just to get the old girls' heart rates up but ultimately no one gets through until the darn thing is all sold out. They'll have to make do, if they're lucky, with scalper's tickets.
The plan today is to dine with one of Baby Sister's best friends, Linda -- yum! Chinese food -- like we need to eat more! Then we'll head to North Bay to visit our Baby Brother and, weather depending, either spend the night or move on to home. We never did make it to Sudbury as we'd originally planned as we couldn't raise the relatives there and didn't want to chance arriving at a house with no one home. Of course, it's also possible the spectre of four pre-and post-menopausal women arriving on your doorstep might be enough to make even the most loving of relatives head for the hills! Ciao, bambinos and bambinas!
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