Columnists
Of buckets and time
How the H E double doubles did it get to be November? And, while I’m at it, what happened to 2016? Why wasn’t I told the older I get the quicker time passes? Where is the 25-year-old me? When I look in the mirror, she’s not there.
This year, more than any other, I’ve felt as if I was living with a countdown clock in my life, ticking away the seconds. So much to do. So many places to see. So many things to try for the first time.
Today, a man LOML and I have known for a long time, mentioned “bucket list”. I haven’t really thought about putting things on a bucket list, although I did see the movie and I get the drift. But am I old enough for a bucket list? Yeah, I think I might be, and why not? It’s not like New Year’s resolutions, right? I think I might be mature enough and old enough to be right about something. I’m going to get a bucket list.
The thing that comes to mind, almost every time I hear the words “bucket list”, is skateboarding. Don’t get me wrong, I did skateboard in the olden days. Smirk if you must, but skateboards didn’t just happen during this century. We had boards in the sixties, crude by today’s standards, but still skateboards.
The problem was the neighbourhood I lived in didn’t have a lot of paved roads and no sidewalks to speak of. We did most of our skateboarding (and roller skating) in the public school yard, which, for some strange reason, was mostly paved. Yep, those were the days. We often skateboarded barefoot. Yes, we did. Skinned knees and broken toes were pretty common. For my bucket list skateboard activity, I think I will wear shoes. Skateboarding, it is. Watch out, kiddies. Old lady ollie!
Did I mention this isn’t like a New Year’s resolution? It isn’t.
The next thing on my list is to learn to speak another language. I’ve been pretending with French and Italian for years. I have zero facility with either language, but have good reasons to learn. Goodness knows I’ve tried to learn to speak French and Italian only to see that what-the-heck-is-her-problem look on the hapless listener’s face. LOML is fluently bilingual. Made his living as a teacher of French. My mom’s family is Italian. I’ll have to decide. Hmmm, I do have my dad’s Gaelic dictionary, somewhere in my studio. Who would know if I’d actually learned Gaelic? Oh, do put your hand down.
Next on my bucket list is to run a halfmarathon with my daughter-in-law. She’s currently in the Ukraine, and in one of her emails she mentioned there wasn’t much to do there so she’s been running. I thought that was a healthy pastime. In her next email she suggested that I should run with her. Why me, you ask? She has a perfectly healthy wife, my daughter, who would love to run with her. Why pick on me? Besides, when she gets back, I’ll be recovering from a skateboarding injury. I hardly think that adding a half-marathon insult to a casper flip boo boo is a good thing. But she is family. I’ll put this on my list of things to bring me closer to the bucket. The following two activities are as zany as the previous.
My brother—not the one who lives here, the other-other brother—wants to do the Edge Walk on the CN Tower. I said I would, and whispered that I hoped the orange outfits had built in adult diapers. He’s in the UK for two years, I have time for this one. I’m not afraid of heights. I am, however, afraid of what might come out of me, verbally and otherwise, whilst hanging ten over the top of the city. But it’s on the list.
Finally, the same other-other brother and I want to build a “tiny house”. Maybe it was the Scotch talking when we decided to get constructive. The other-other brother is a skilled carpenter and I’m skilled at stripping drill bits, cursing and hitting my thumb with a hammer. I will, likely, be recovering from skateboarding injuries and shin-splints from running. However, when I do hit my thumb— and I know I will—I hope to be able to curse in a foreign language. Ciach ort.
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