Blabbering my mouth off

Despite my cat being gone for over a month I’m still pulling white hairs off my sweaters, extracting them from the depths of the far flung corners of the house, resisting the urge to vacuum everything, even my clothes, more than once at a time.

Last week I succumbed to nostalgia and watched a selection of movies from the last century. My favourite Goldie Hawn, Harrison Ford, not Star Wars, flicks and Hugh Grant in Four Weddings and a Funeral. I’d forgotten how cute and how young he was in that movie.

I changed the date of our play tickets from next Saturday to yesterday, Sunday. I had to pay four dollars for the privilege. It’s not the first time I changed my dates so I had my Toonies at the ready. Before the play started the director came on stage to give his usual pre show blurb. He said the seats for the next show, at the end of November, were filling up fast and we really should book our spots now to try and get the ones we want.

We have seasons tickets. Unlike other season ticket holders, who book their entire play season in August, I find the concept anathema. I‘m terrible at predicting the future, locking myself to a date in its murky depths for when I’m going to watch a play is like trying to stuff my unwilling body into a corset. I’ll take my chances.

The play was hilariously funny. If you haven’t seen it already you should but you will have to be fast to get those seats we vacated next Saturday because that’s all there is left.

I made crumbly dark red devils food cake following directions out of some, published three decades ago, cookbook. I substituted shortening for butter, I have no obsessions. The cake cooled on a wire rack while I went to see the play. When I got back home I ignored the recipe for icing which came with the cake recipe. Instead I melted some chocolate, some more butter and beat in enough icing sugar and milk, more icing sugar till I had enough icing to cover the cake, lick off the spoon and scrape out the bowl.

There is still at least half the cake left. Without any kids around it takes us longer to eat things up, we get to have more than one piece and I don't have to hide it.