I do enjoy memes (and love reading about others through their memes), but I must admit that I am finding it more and more difficult to come up with new facts about myself. That, and I suspect some of you are growing a little weary of reading about me and my various eccentricities, when what you’re really here for is the food! 😉
“Um, Mum, your readers may be a bit overloaded on YOUR memes, but what about us? There are still plenty of random facts we could tell you about the two of us. . . .”
“Yeah, right! Hey, Elsie, how about that we love to play! And that the yellow ball is my favorite! Oh, oh, and that we LOVE to jump up on people! And what about that we bark at cars that drive by outside! Or that we love Greenies! Or how about the way I pull on your ear every 30 seconds–“
“Zip it, Chaser. I am sure they get the idea. But there will be no ear-pulling for the next ten days, at least.”
Ah, yes, that reminds me: before I get to the meme, I should also mention the “Injury” referred to in the post title. Once again, our accident-prone Elsie Girl has had a brush with the law mortality a metal post. While frolicking with her sister the other day, sweet Elsie ran too close to a steel goal post at the park and whacked her side against it, ripping off a chunk of her haunch. Poor baby! And so the HH and I (and Chaser, who, after all, couldn’t be left all alone at home) spent our Saturday evening at the Vet Emergency clinic, where Elsie was treated to a bit of a shave, a cleansing of the wound, some staples to reconnect the skin, and a lovely cone on her head, which she absolutely abhors, poor thing.
Here she is, in all her misery:
[“Help. . . . me. . . . . “]
The worst part is that Chaser is terrified of the cone and won’t go near Elsie right now. No more ear-biting, indeed.
And now, on to the meme, and seven random facts about me. I won’t tag anyone else (it seems many of you have already done this one), but please do feel free to participate if you’d like.
1) I didn’t learn to drive a car until I was about 30. Well, I first acquired my license at 16 like the rest of my friends, but then moved away to university and didn’t have the opportunity to drive again until I was married. I’d taken lessons for about a week when my husband and I decided to separate, which meant I was driving myself to work (about an hour each way) along busy provincial highways long before I felt ready to do so. Talk about baptism by fire! (In this case, by ice, actually, as it was mid-winter when all this transpired). A couple of dents to the fender and more than a decade later, and I’m finally comfortable behind the wheel.
2) I collect odd cups and saucers, and champagne flutes. When I was a kid, my mom had a collection of odd cups and saucers that seemed to exist just outside our awareness in a glass cabinet in the kitchen. When I moved out on my own, however, my sisters starting giving me similar items as gifts, and I began to really appreciate them. I love the varying patterns one finds on the older designs, the delicate structure of the cup and saucer, the nearly transparent quality of the fine china, and the elegance they exude (I always feel I should raise my pinkie when I sip out of one of them).
A few years after I began to collect the cups and saucers, I was introduced to champagne (or, at least, sparkling wine) when a friend served me a glass of Segura Viudas. Well, I was so impressed that shortly thereafter, I began to collect champagne flutes, too. I’ll often buy them on sale at the end of the season–who wants to buy just one flute, right?–and have amassed about 3 dozen so far.
My favorites are a couple I received for birthdays, the voluptuous pewter-stemmed one the HH gave me the first year we were together (see left), and the Waterford crystal pair the HH and I purchased for the turn of the century.
3) I memorized every word of Beowulf in the original Old English during my PhD. For our final exam, we were given a random passage in Old English and had to translate it. Not wanting to take any chances, I decided to memorize the entire poem. How much do I remember today? This much: “Hwat! we, Gar-dena, in yeor dayum. . .” Yep, the first five words. Well, it got me an “A” on the exam, anyway.
4) I was asked to be Valedictorian at my high school graduation, but I was too shy and said no. Decades later, I’m still shy, but when I was given the opportunity again for my graduation from nutrition school in 2003, I decided I couldn’t pass it up twice, and said yes. Very happy that I did!
5) When I was a teen, some of my friends and I worked as cashiers at the local drugstore (called a “pharmacy” in Montreal, even though the actual pharmacy dispensary was a small space at the back of the store). We used to call it “The Phunny Pharm.” My friends Babe, Sterlin, Phil and Angel also all worked there, so on any given day, it was guaranteed that I’d be working alongside one of my best friends. We often created code words to alert each other when a cute guy came in the store. The names were connected to various cigarette brands (which, in those days, were sold out in the open from shelves behind the cash). The cuter the guy, the stronger the brand we chose for his nickname. When we saw a REALLY cute guy, we’d call across the aisle to each other, “Hey, Ric, do you have any packs of Rothmans at your cash?” or, “Um, Sterlin, I think I’ve run out of Du Maurier over here. . . ” The men never twigged in to it, even though sometimes three of us would come running to the counter at the same time, all ostensibly “looking for a pack of Rothmans.”
6) I started smoking in my 20s and didn’t quit until I met the HH in 1997 (at which point I was smoking about 1/2 pack a day–though nothing as strong as Rothman’s, of course). Now, don’t go thinking that he was such a great influence on me, or anything. . . I quit because of my various health issues, not for love (how very unromantic of me, I know). When I revamped my diet, I figured I should give my lungs a break, too. The only smoke I’ve inhaled since then is second-hand.
7) I once got to meet Chris de Burgh in person (true, not very exciting to all of you out there too young to recognize the name!). At the height of his popularity, some friends and I went to one of his concerts in Montreal. Because my friend Angel had met him while traveling in Ireland and they’d become correspondents (in the days before email, folks), he arranged backstage passes for her and five of her friends. Somewhere in a box in my basement is a wine-stained scrap of paper on which is scrawled something to the effect of, “For Ricki, With all best wishes, Chris de Burgh.” (Hey–maybe I can sell it and become one of those mansion-people I wrote about in the last post?)
So there you go, seven random facts. I know I mentioned yet another meme to post, but I think I’ll save that for another day and avert a real Meme Overload. And on the subject of overloading, I’ve got a nice, light and not-too-filling post-Thanksgiving recipe for you next time round.
To those of you in the U.S., hope you have a wonderful Thanksgiving!
[“I bet all those people outside are having a great holiday weekend. . . and all I can do is stare out this window. . . *sigh*.”]
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