The end of the beginning

From Saturday

That's what today feels like.

Last night I went downstairs for supper with my neighbour. Himself stayed home as he thought it was going to snow and he would have to run a snow plough in the middle of the night. So he wanted to get some sleep.


Sleep has been in short supply in this house for a bit.


Queenie is a little concerned that when she gets to Ireland all she and Himself will want to do is sleep for two weeks.


Anyways, Queenie got home about one and was in a lovely deep sleep when the Snow Plough Cell from Hell rang loudly and Himself fell out of bed to answer it.


Wrong number.

Ah well.


Himself got up at four anyways and went to do his Snicking (something to do with ice and salt and carparks).

Isn't it FANTASTIC that November is over and it's December today.


December's exciting news is that Queenie has to work out her notice in the Tree House for two weeks, then start her new job, then go to Ireland for two weeks.

Today, Thursday

Well, it stopped snowing eventually on Monday and Himself got home eventually around midnight, and then had to go back in to work four hours later, but not before I told him that I had watched The National and it said it would be the worst winter in fourteen years or something equally horrible, so I guess this will be the winter of not enough sleep.

At least I just get woken up and can go back to sleep. He's the one who has to get up and go out in the freezing cold at four am.

I am definitely getting the better half of the deal.

Speaking of terrible news on the radio, CBC are talking about a longitudinal study this morning, undertaken in the States. Apparently if you get laid off when you're in your forties your life expectation is reduced by a number of years.

Due to the stress of financial and emotional meltdown.

Well, there's a big surprise.

I wonder, if you have the same kind of meltdown due to the breakdown of your marriage with consequent poverty and emotional stress, whether the same results will ensue.

Another study on the radio news this morning says that if you have a big ass it doesn't matter so long as you are fit. It's is only a big belly that is a problem.

Apparently.

I spend my time wondering who sponsors these studies.

The belly-reducing stretch-o-rope people this morning, no doubt.

Anyways, Queenie is not worried about her life expectancy, or her health, or anything at the moment.

This month marks the end of the beginning of the Canada adventure.

Roll on the middle bit.

May it be taut and muscular and life-enhancing!