My sister, Kirsten, is away for work....The silence is killing me. She is one of the few people left in the world not in the twenty first century. She lacks a cell phone and cable tv. (Strangely, she is hugely more informed about world issues. Must be due to her incessant CBC listening.) I can't contact her and am literally counting the hours til her return. I don't really have anything of great urgency to announce to her. I just want to chat.
My life goes something like this:
Me: I'm bored. *call Kirsten*
Me: I'm lonely. *call Kirsten*
Me: I'm angry. *call Kirsten*
...You get the point. Even before Jeff died, we were in constant contact. Really, instead of a phone, we should have walkie-talkies. She'd be 'Brute Force'. I'd be 'Will Power'. "Come in, Brute Force. Some grossly scintillating news. Come in. Over."
My poor brother-in-law has a lot to deal with. Work, twins, renos, dissertation, fabulous and amazing wife....and a sister-in-law who comes over unannounced to eat more than her share of his dinner, help herself to gross amount of chocolate chips (They have EIGHT bags!!!!!! I'm working on whittling it down for them), and monopolize his wife's ear.
Kirsten is one of the few people I know that I can tell everything, and I mean EVERYthing, to. And, best of all, she still loves me! (Although I think she's too kind and empathetic of others to come right out and announce that she thought anyone was a 'schmuck'. *Note to self: Ask Kirsten if she does think I'm a schmuck and is too worried about hurting me....)
Chances are if I've achieved some half-witted stunt, she has performed some variation of the same theme at sometime too. It is immensely comforting to be in good company with another 'idiot' whom I think is funny, brilliant, kind and sweet. Like the time I unwittingly walked through town with pants split from the rear waistband all the way to the crotch. Each step alternately flashed one large white buttock and then the other. *Flash!* *Flash!* Since I wear a thong (did I really just tell cyberspace that I wear floss in my ass?), there was no 'cheek coverage'. When people slowed and stared, I genuinely thought they were stunned by the beauty of my dog. My stupidity astounds me now. Mortifying.
But when I called my sister, she had had a similar experience while walking down a busy street in Vancouver. With each step, her skirt had slowly been hiked up under her backpack. Gradually she was showing her (luckily for her) round little underwear clad bum to all who walked past. She had sweetly wondered at the amazing joy emitted by all that day. They had smiled at her and she smiled back. So sweet and 'simple'.
It's these things that make me love her. I am never alone in my naivety and bumbling way through life. But Kirsten, she finds joy in the small and silly things that life presents. Even her complaints cause me smile. She can't bitch about anyone without defending them at the same time.
This morning, I went to grab the cheese from the fridge. I noticed there was a sour smell eminating from within. Thinking this was strange as I had washed out the fridge two days ago, I got to work preparing cheese slices for my little man. Like being struck upside the head, I suddenly remembered that I turned off the fridge to clean it thus saving electricity....on WEDNESDAY. I'm an Earth-friendly gal. I can save the hydro and save some cash, right? But now, whatever I saved in electricity and money, I have now wasted in wasted food. Bloody hell. Initial though, "Damn it. I'm gonna eat it anyway. Can't waste good food on stupidity." Second thought, "Dude. I sound like 'Mom and the composting onion' (long story). Gonna call Kirsten and admit my stupidity. Kinda like the time she melted foil to the bottom of her new stove, right?"
But she isn't home. So I write about it on the blog. Now if I collapse and die from food poisoning after ingesting rotten condiments, she won't immediately know the cause when the cops pull up to her door. Maybe she'll read the blog after and figure it out.....
The Firehouse Chronicles – Episode 14
5 days ago