Here in the supposed frozen north, as anyone south of Canada thinks of it, it is winter. White flakes falling, and roads plowed to allow traffic flow. El Nino winters are always milder than the norm but this year we saw no snow until New Year. Frequently we wore lighter jackets. But now we are truly into winter. The question is what kind of winter will it be?
Today I had the last of the turkey dinner left overs. It’s a meal I truly enjoy so I am not sure why I don’t have it more often. And I am now just finishing the last of my holiday wine.
I quit smoking this past year in October. It is something I really enjoyed but there were enough reasons to do it so I did. I miss it sometimes but not enough to light up again. I worried about my weight more than anything. Back in ’97 I quit for eighteen months and gained thirty pounds. I am quite happy with my weight and have no desire to gain. Anyway, in almost three months I have actually lost a few pounds so I suppose that is good. I decided sometime last year to stop worrying about gains and losses. Well mostly gains. I put it out of my mind and ate and drank pretty much what I wanted. No fuss. No muss as they say. It seems to have worked. The only change I have made is that I try to be more active. Not working out active. Just more active.
I went to see my auntie today again as I do most days. She is somewhat confused but not too bad. She still knows who I am. I know yesterday I mentioned her a promised to tell you about her.
She is originally from Sidney Australia, born in 1934. She is not an ‘immediate’ aunt but a great aunt. She was married to my great uncle John, or Jack as we all knew him. Now Jack was my fathers uncle but he was two years younger than my dad. So that means that when my dad was two years old, his mothers mother gave birth to a bouncing baby boy. Actually Jack’s mother, Annie White had something like twenty-eight pregnancies, fourteen of which survived. One of whom was my grandmother Elsie and many years later her brother, my uncle Jack. Jack and my dad grew up more like brothers than anything else.
Jack was quite the charmer who liked to describe himself as the black sheep of the family. He was viewed as something of an adventurer. He had already had two wives by the time he met Fran in the sixties. But more of that another time.
For now I must get on with other things. Fran and I coloured today. I had gotten her one of those ‘adult colouring books’ for Christmas. Not ADULT as is restricted but books designed for adults. The newest kick seems to be that coloring is rather meditative and good for one’s stress and ability to focus. In truth Fran colours only for a short time then we chat merrily while she watches me and gives me some advice about colours. I just wish I had been the one to think of calling a colouring book “for adults”, charging ten or twenty times the going rate of a child’s book and getting rich.