Monday Musings

Had a fun night out on Friday to celebrate a friend's birthday on 11-11-11. First there was a delicious dinner catered by Azzura (I will have to try to recreate the maple-glazed gnoochi) then we went out in search of a place to dance which up here in November isn't easy. We did make it to the pub where seven lovely women of a certain - shall we say middle - age were all told by the scruffy looking bouncer at the door that if at least one of us didn't have ID none of us were going in. Really? Of course not one of us had even brought a purse and carried nothing other than a credit card since we had very responsibly cabbed it over. We all looked at the barely post-adolescent man-child at the door and said, "Seriously?" It's November, shoulder season for the restaurants and bars in our resort area, the pub was empty and we were seven, count 'em, seven credit card-carrying women on a Girls Night Out. Finally he relented and said he's let us in that night but if we came back again we'd better have ID. It wasn't even flattering, just annoying and silly.

The place was quiet but by 11pm it started to fill up with people who should be asked for ID and the band was good. They got us up and dancing with some Stones covers and then jammed the floor with lots of great eighties tunes. But by midnight I was fading, only downside of cabbing over was that I either had to wait for the others to call it a night or pay for a cab by myself to get home. I began to pretend to drink my beer as the others kept downing theirs and I stayed out on the dance floor to make sure that I wasn't going to be too hungover in the morning. Most of the others were staying over at the birthday girl's place but I was going home and mornings still come bright (at least since the time change last weekend) and early with my kids. The strategy worked and we even scored a ride home with a friend so not only did the evening cost me next to nothing I really did feel fine the next day and I had a lot of fun. So (note to self) always dance at least 20 minutes for every drink consumed that way you burn off the calories and pre-empt the hangover. And that, I will point out the next time I'm asked for ID, is something you only learn with age.

A phone conversation with my mother gave me a bit of a pause when she asked how I was and I replied that I was a little blah but probably just pre-menstrual. She said, "Oh, you haven't started menopause then?" No, I hope I haven't. Of course, that isn't a conversation we have had at all and I guess, kind of like the one we had when I was 13, it should come sooner rather than later. So, instead of pursuing it with her, I went on-line and found this book to read instead. I'll let you know if it helps explain the blahs.

Another recent Amazon.ca purchase has been a real hit around our house. I am now an Artisan Bread in 5 Minutes a Day convert. The only problem is that while it really doesn't take long to make - it takes even less time to eat! This afternoon I am going to show Number One Son (the big eater) how to make his own bread, but first I have to go and buy the 10 kilo bag of flour. I will post some fresh-baked pictures soon.

Number One Son made it home safely from Colorado and had an incredible time. As a friend of mine said, "Don't you wish you were your own kid?" Yup, skiing for ten days with friends, stalking Lindsey Vonn on and off the slopes, snowball fights in the hot tub, that's the life I want.

Still trying to figure out Twitter but really can't justify the time. I have a couple of friends and bloggers whom I follow but I just don't get the whole #hashtag thingy. And really, unless you're some famous person who has fans hanging on your every move then who needs to know what you are doing minute-by-minute in 142 characters. Or is is words?