As yesterday afternoon rolled on, I began to panic about developing muscle spasms and lockjaw. So I scheduled an appointment today for a tetanus booster. It just so happened that I got jabbed right before my dentist's appointment, where some drilling and filling took place. My arm hurts, the left side of my mouth is all tingly and wobbly, and I've a puncture wound in my right foot.

I'm thinking drugs and passing out on the couch for most of the night. You know, like most Friday nights, but this time for a legitimate reason.

This morning I was strutting down my street, singing along with Laura Izibor, when I suddenly stepped on a screw. It went through my flip flop, into my foot, and it hurt. I then turned around, hobbled home, washed and disinfected, washed and disinfected, washed and disinfected. I then hobbled to work.

If it had been a nail, I'm fairly certain that I would now have a hole through my entire foot. If it had been rusty, I worry that my foot would've had to be amputated. (Not really, but there was a slight bit of panic when I got back home and yelled upstairs to my sleeping Irishman - who, incidentally, did not wake up.)

Got me to thinking, I wonder when I got my last tetanus booster?

Meanwhile, the strike continues, and public parks that have been made into dumping locations are now being taken over by bags of garbage . . . it's starting to raise a few health concerns. Thank goodness the temperatures have barely broken 80F yet, otherwise this place would reek to high heaven. However, it's clear that some residents are starting to get fed up, that's for sure . . .

A note for when you make shrimp stock: thoroughly wash the shells before you begin.

Otherwise you'll have a bunch of dirty shells that you put into a pot with water and veggies and be so happy with yourself that you've got this stock to use in the future and you'll put it in a little container and stick it in the freezer and you'll want to use it in a recipe a little while later so you'll take it out to thaw and then put it into a pan and add some wine and then start making frowny faces at the pan when things start to separate and you're not sure why and you stir the liquid, hoping the stuff will dissolve and then start peering closer to the pan and think oh crap, that looks like some sort of sediment and then try to strain it yourself and then get a while into doing that before you get frustrated and say eff this and toss out the whole lot and use chicken stock instead thereby wasting a lot of time in the middle of trying to make shrimp paella and not eating dinner until 10 p.m.

Just a little tip from me to you.

The plan was to go to Walmart today. I mean, it doesn't get much more American than that. Unfortunately, my other half didn't get home from work until 4 a.m., and we didn't get up until 12:30 p.m., and he had to be to work again at 3:30. In other words, my July 4th has been very uneventful. I'm just hanging out, watching Rain Man, and listening to fireworks. That's right, I can hear fireworks. I don't think they're here though -- it wouldn't surprise me if I'm hearing fireworks from the other side of the border. Truth be told, it's making me a little homesick. I don't even know where home is, really, and I'm homesick. You know what'll solve this problem? The rest of the wine . . .

Yesterday was a very busy day.

Let me start by saying that somewhere around 24,000 municipal civil service workers are on strike in the city. At the crux of the issue is a debate over workers' sick days; currently, they're allowed to cash out their unused days upon retirement, which the city apparently can't afford. In short, that means that the parents of about 2,800 kids are scrambling around trying to find day care and there's no garbage collection. Yes, it's June. Yes, it's 86 degrees. Oh, those civil servants, hitting the city where it hurts!

(On a somewhat related note, workers at the Liquor Control Board of Ontario (LCBO) were also preparing for a strike today, meaning that no one would've been able to buy alcohol. Fortunately, the strike deadline was delayed while talks continued. Thank EFF.)

After work, I went down to The Ceili Cottage, the new workplace of a certain Irishman, for the opening night. The patio was packed, the front room (which dates back to the 1850s) was packed, and the bar (brand new and set under a glorious 52" flat screen) was packed. It was a good sign.

Then I came home and started to compost! We finally got a bin and after deciding that the deck wouldn't work (I know, I know), we put it out back. I'll keep you posted. Aaaaaaahahahaha.

Let me tell you something else I like about Canada.

People actually pull over and stop for emergency vehicles. I feel fully confident that if anything ever happens to me (knock on wood), I will be able to be treated in an appropriate time frame.

Meanwhile, I returned from the good ol' U-S-of-A with several important purchases:





Between that stuff and attempting (and failing) to tame the "garden", I'm going to be a busy lady this summer . . .

I left Toronto this morning at 8:15 a.m. and hit rush hour traffic. I made it though the rain and the fog, through the poor-ish directions and missed exits, through the highway closings and detours, only to hit D.C. area rush hour traffic. I walked in the door at 7:30 p.m.

During my journey, I made a few observations.

1. June 5th is National Donut Day. Purchase any beverage today at Dunkin' Donuts and it came with a free glazed donut. Oh America. God bless you. *fist pump*

2. I thought that you couldn't pass through Pennsylvania without seeing a horse and buggy. I was correct.

3. Why, WHY don't people turn their headlights on when it's raining?!? It's RAINING! Turn your ***damn lights on!!

4. Any city that has metal/plastic animals alongside the highways representing the name of the city is not a city in which I'd like to live. (Yes, Buffalo, I'm talking about you.)

First day of June, and the temperature is 11C. That's 52F.

I'm so glad that we scored that patio set . . .

This little piece was in last Sunday's Times.

Not terribly interesting, and the second sentence is entirely not true, but it mentions my neighborhood! Holla!

There were racoons fighting in the treetops in front of a house about five doors down the street. They sounded like this:

RARRR EEHEEEEHEHHH

EEEEERARAAAAARRRGHGHGH

Ar ErEE AR Ar ErEE AR

RRREEEEEEEEEEAAAARAAARRRR

etc.