Are you sure that the Amazing Race understands Canada? I don’t usually speak about my affection for reality tv, and I was just as excited as is possible that The Amazing Race was coming to Canada (did you check them all out complaining that it was going to be cold? In Toronto? In the Summer? I realize that the irony of complaining about the persistent “Brr…Canada” myth is going to lose most of it’s impact considering that we’ve had an extreme cold warning for days, but the point is that it’s not summer. In July it is hot, just like in many other countries all around the world…but I digress.) What actually ticked me off, was the “two sports that are popular in Canada”. Curling (fair enough) and “log rolling”.
Log rolling? Are you messing with me? I’m supposed to be “log rolling”? Not only have I never log rolled, I don’t know any log rollers and I’ve never (until last night) seen log rolling on TV. Popular? You know, I was actually naive enough that I thought that log rolling was a whole other sport. I thought it was birling, done on water, rolling a log…just like in the “Log Drivers Waltz“, not rolling a log along a course on land. I mean, I’m sure it’s a sport. I really am…but “popular”? Nevermind. Thank goodness that Montreal LUMBERJACK (because you know that world-class urban cities are just chock full of lumberjacks in this country) was there to explain the game. I’m sorry. I won’t say anything more. I’ll just feed my moose and pout in my igloo.
Are you sure, that I am going to be able to give these socks away?
I am so seriously entertained by this yarn that I am wasting valuable knitting time composing love letters to whoever invented it. It’s charming. Completely charming. See the way it’s changing colour? See it? I love it. I spend lots of time looking at it and looking at the ball and wondering what’s going to happen. I spend the rest of my time following people around going “Look! Look at the yarn!” I must have more. I shall prepare an email to my family advising them that I require no other Christmas present than more Trekking XXL sock yarn. If I receive it as a gift I shall lay it on a silver tray on the coffee table and build a wee shrine to it with lesser yarns paying homage all around while candles (a respectful distance away) scented with natural oils burn with a flame that seems dim compared to the glory that is my Trekking XXL sock yarn.
Are you sure, that I am supposed to be the only one getting ready for Christmas around here? I’m trying to figure out how it is that this family can have two adults, two and a half teenagers and yet still have every single Christmas come down to me weeping at the Shoppers while they stand there saying:
“I’d love to help, but I just don’t have any time”
“I’m sorry you’re stressed out, by the way…what did you get Bob?”
“Are you going to be making more of those cookies, these are almost gone.”
or my favourite…
“Can I get $20 bucks to buy you a present?”
No time? Too busy? Hear me now. MAKE TIME. Bend time, invent time, influence the time-space continuum, stay up all night, give up reading the paper…try harder, water the tree, manage your time, stop eating the cookies, and for the love of all things decent, understand that elves aren’t going to the grocery store, (that’s me out there in the snow you gaggle of ingrates) and it’s not like I don’t have anything to do (little Miss “I don’t like last years hat”) and start doing all of this today people, because darn it, that’s what I do. This family needs to stop being a passel of pussies and get some time management skills together pronto because Mama needs another roll of freakin’ tape and someone other than me is going out into the snow to get it. Now get out of my way. I’m knitting a sock.
PS. The next person to tell me that they think that Christmas is making me grouchy gets to wrap every single one of the presents.