Fried Dragon

I’ve been playing cards with my Mom tonight. The game of choice lately is canasta. When my Grandmother was around the game was always euchre. I miss Grandma and now and then I even miss euchre, mostly I miss her being here to play the game.

Moving is chaos, let’s just leave it there. Much like a fried dragon, it may seem like a good idea at the time but when it’s actually done… who wants to eat it?

I saw some spammer had frieddragon as their email address. That’s where that came from. I’d never consider frying a dragon myself. I consider myself to be a dragon after all.

Today was the day I thought I would be moved in downtown, attending the indie art event on Queen Street and even possibly meeting John. None of that happened. Disappointing is a good word.

My skin is staging a revolt. Likely it’s stress related. Luckily I’m not some glamour girlie type, I’m not all upset about the skin thing. Not too much.

One interesting thing about moving is finding things. It is pretty interesting how you find things you had forgotten you ever found to begin with. Kind of your own personal tresure hunt. It’s quite the game and, best of all, it’s completely free to play. No hidden gimmicks, no hidden fees and no hidden spyware. Pretty good all over. As long as your supply of garbage bags holds out, you’re doing fine.

My nephew Zack is going to come to live out here for awhile. He is having big problems at his usual home with his usual parents and his usual school and his usual friends. We are hoping the unusual school, friends and the really unusual Grandma and Aunt will help. Money is the problem, as usual. My Mom is living on a pension, no frills. When I moved she was pretty sure she was going to sell this house, or rent out most of it. Now, that has all changed. Money is the root of all debt.