{"id":2783,"date":"2012-02-05T10:38:03","date_gmt":"2012-02-05T18:38:03","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/?p=2783"},"modified":"2012-02-06T10:07:18","modified_gmt":"2012-02-06T18:07:18","slug":"sunday-gratitudes","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/?p=2783","title":{"rendered":"Sunday gratitudes"},"content":{"rendered":"

1. Oatmeal<\/span><\/span><\/strong> – yes, I am one of those odd people of indirect Scottish extraction who loves \"\"<\/a>oatmeal for breakfast. When I was pregnant I could have quite happily eaten it for every meal during that nauseous first trimester. The only place I don\u2019t like oats or oatmeal is on a fruit crumble because I was raised on the flour, brown sugar and butter variation. \u00a0Some will argue that isn\u2019t a crumble but a Betty. I don\u2019t really care, you can call it an elephant if you want.<\/span><\/p>\n

You know those scenes in movies where a person runs into an open field, past the \u201cWarning, Land Mines\u201d<\/span><\/strong> sign. They stop, turn and put a foot down as the camera cuts to a close up of their foot. A loud click is heard. Pan up to the frozen face and pull back as \"\"<\/a>person flies upward accompanied by a generous portion of real estate. Perhaps it is a visceral reaction to a childhood comfort memory denied or perhaps the presence of butter serves as an evil catalyst but oatmeal is the land mine on a crumble crust as far as my digestion is concerned.<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

bringing the apples<\/p><\/div>\n

2. Apples<\/span><\/strong>– crisp, red and sweet. It is the fruit of autumn. When I was a girl (pause while\u00a0<\/span><\/span>everyone scrambles for any excuse to avoid the stroll down cliche lane with me) the first\u00a0train into town from the Okanagan with Macintosh apples was a big event. Seriously. Sometimes I\u2019m amazed I have all my teeth and walk completely upright.\u00a0<\/em>Anyway, it was a big thing because one of the\u00a0Knights of White Satin style\u00a0<\/span>fraternal organizations would unload the train to the sound of flash bulbs popping. <\/span><\/p>\n

*<\/span>pause for everyone under thirty to google ‘flash bulbs’ and why they popped.*<\/span><\/p>\n

These civic minded business men would then\u00a0team up with boy scouts\u00a0to storm the city \u00a0selling apples. Mr. Kelcher, across the street, was one of these civic minded folk so we would end up with a case of Macintosh apples on the back landing. The first one always tasted wonderful. After that, well, let\u2019s say we ate a lot of apple crumble until the last apple, more bruise than fruit, disappeared as a projectile over the back fence.<\/span><\/p>\n

3. Snow<\/span><\/strong> – For the first few days after it falls, it is wonderful. Soft, silent and, even in the dark of night, it is luminous. The world glows when there is a fresh fall of snow on the ground. Fortunately, I live on the coast so it is gone before the charm wears off. I remember how not so great it looks by the time March or April rolls around and, oh look, it\u2019s snowing out…but, for now, for here, I love it.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

4. Forks<\/span><\/strong> – I\u2019d have an interesting pattern of scars on my face and hands if cutlery was still limited to knives. Chopsticks are a nice alternative for safety and stimulating brain synapses but not for dining on a permanent basis. On the other hand, I\u2019d probably be a lot thinner if I resolved to eat only with chopsticks.<\/span><\/span><\/p>\n

5. Scarves<\/span><\/strong> – Yes, you can tell the age of a woman by counting the rings around her neck. I \"\"<\/a>also have a few extra chins and a wowzer scar from thyroid surgery. Scarves keep me warm and hide a multitude of sins from chin to hips if properly draped. Also, a few are comforting reminders of the people who gave them to me. Like these pashminas from from a well traveled daughter. I suppose only two really count as gifts since I gave her the money to buy the first one. After diverting her into a store on the way to her friend’s house. A store that was at the opposite end of town…but it was in the spirit of giving and that’s what counts.\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

1. Oatmeal – yes, I am one of those odd people of indirect Scottish extraction who loves oatmeal for breakfast. When I was pregnant I could have quite happily eaten it for every meal during that nauseous first trimester. The … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[70,1],"tags":[569,571,568,570,572,567],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2783"}],"collection":[{"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2783"}],"version-history":[{"count":36,"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2783\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2824,"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2783\/revisions\/2824"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2783"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2783"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"http:\/\/suddenalarm.blaseckie.ca\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2783"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}