I live in the part of Canada where the "May-long" is a true institution. For non-Canadians, we have celebrated Queen Victoria's birthday today - our first long weekend of the summer. For most of the country, the weather was beautiful. For the responsible home owner, the May Long is traditionally used to plant the year's vegetable garden. For the cottage owner, you will probably make the trip to the lake and start the process of opening up for the summer. Or, if you are a teenager, you will con some older kid into "pulling beer" for you so that you can proceed to the Provincial Park to camp for the weekend, get completely hosed, get evicted from said Park by the RCMP early on Saturday morning, and spend the rest of the weekend explaining to your parents what happened as you plant the vegetable garden.
Crap. I was just writing that for a fun, colloquial taste of my home. Then I realized my son will never break the law in a Provincial Park on May Long. Sheesh, can't even May Long be fun anymore?
I loved my weekend in the sun in my garden. I may get around to posting a few photos one of these days. You know, the generic kind that don't show anything recognizable so that I can maintain my secret identity.
I felt nauseous and crampy yesterday. Sign of impending ectopic pregnancy? Sign of implantation? Sign of impending period? Sign of eating junk food for a week straight? Is the junk food craving a sign of pregnancy?
Only a few more days before I know whether I am fooling myself again this month. Still no word from the RE, despite the passing of approximately 7 weeks since the letter of referral was sent. C'mon, just send me the letter booking me in for an appointment in October. At least then I would know where I stand. Stupid bloody healthcare system, which I simultaneously love and despise.
A family member required the services of the provincial heath care system this weekend. Which meant I had the joyous experience of visiting the second floor of the hospital. How fun it is to walk past those lovely little bassinets with waving arms and kicking feet. Actually, I exaggerate - I didn't have to walk past them. But you can see them from the elevator door, so there. Surprisingly, it had little effect on me. My son is just as dead today, when I visit the mat. ward, as he will be tomorrow when I don't. My skin thickens daily (what a cute picture that is...).
Enough wit and pizzazz. I must refresh myself for the gruelling task of a 3 day work week (I have Friday off). Ta ta!