Yup. I know. I’m worse than the worst. I tricked you into thinking I would post right away and then left you hanging. I’m very tricksy, you see.

Fair Warning: My friends, this is the first post after a long absence from posting. That means it will not be the best post. It will have many topics, each a rabbit hole attempting to lure you down various meandering trails that are my thoughts. My apologies. Once this is out of my system, we’ll return to my normal programming (which is only slightly less meandering). 

The last several weeks I’ve been pretty busy working on getting ready for the inaugural Pacific Tattoo. Not that kind of tattoo; the musical variety, with drums and bagpipes and kilts, oh my! The show was this past weekend. Actually, there were three shows, one run-through and one full-dress rehearsal. I would know: I was there for all of them. It never got old, either. Once I get around to downloading the vids off my iPhone, I can share some of my favourite parts (Highland Cathedral in the finale was amazing).

Seriously, some of these people could play. Firstably, I love drums. Percussion is so cool, especially when accompanied by marching and swinging kilts. I also love bagpipes, but then again, I am from Nova Scotia and we do have a fair amount of that Celtic thing going on…

I’ve been volunteering for Pacific Tattoo for two years. Yes, 2 years. It takes a long time to get a show like this off the ground. I would know. I’ve been working on the marketing and communications team, which has been fun, but also pretty busy, especially as of late. So that’s my excuse.

Anyway, in other exciting news, I’ve taken 6 Mondays off to use up some vacation time. I really miss flex days. They’re a huge perk of working for government. Since I moved into my current role about a year and a half ago, I had to give up flex days and BOY OH BOY do I miss them. I was happy to work 47 minutes extra every day in exchange for every other Monday off. Now I tend to work 45 minutes to an hour (or more) extra, but without the time off. It’s not as sweet a deal, that’s for sure!

But as of today and thanks to the interspersed stat holidays, Bay’s got 8 weeks of Monday-less workweeks. Aw yayer. Since I volunteered for approximately 27 hours this weekend (why, yes, I did count them), much of today was spent being really, really, exceptionally lazy. Seriously you guys, I slept until 9:30. Then I laid in bed, reading a really bad book, because I couldn’t let it win by not finishing (it didn’t get better, either. I think Hermes could write a better mystery.). Then yoga, which is more like 2 hours of Pinterest (best. thing. ever.) and then Primary Series.

This is what I look like after 27 hours of volunteering.

Then I baked some cookies and went for a run. Only the latter was successful (except for how I ate some nachos with salsa and felt like heaving for that last .5 km. As you do.). Know what happened to the cookies? Let me tell you (really, this is the gist of the entire post. I’m easily distracted.). After making ALL the cookies (approximately three dozen, just for the record), I went to put away the ingredients. I had even included extra ingredients: coconut, because it’s delicious and good for me, and flax seeds, because they’re good for me and fun to suck out from between my teeth. Amiright? You know I’m right. You get ’em out and bite ’em in half, which is fun and makes eating flax seeds actually worthwhile, since if you don’t chew ’em up, they, uh, go right through you, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, I digress (often). As I’m putting away the oats, I see something move. IN THE CONTAINER, which is sealed. I pull it down to look closer and discover it’s a moth. We are having moth issues in our house. Clearly. I open the container, hoping the offending critter had flown in while I had the lid off to measure the oats required by the recipe. However, upon closer inspection, this proved not to be the case: The oats were infested. I don’t mean they were seething or anything, but I saw at least 3 and my imagination did the rest. As I squinted suspiciously into the container, I could’ve SWORN the oats were moving. Hard to say, because those dusty little moth bastards are exactly the same colour as the oats.

Well played, unwelcome moths. Well played. First my favourite sweater, now this. It is ON, moths.

So you know what I did? I dumped all the oats and the cookies into the garbage and remained annoyed for 1 hour. Actually, I told Adam that I wasn’t sure if the cookies were okay, whereupon he immediately reached to test one (he didn’t yet know about the potential added protein, see). I stopped him—I’m such a good wife, saving my beloved from eating the bugs I just baked—and asked if he thought they were okay, even if there might have been some moths in them. There also might not be moths in them. Maybe I magically scooped all the oats that hadn’t been a buffet dinner for the moths… Yeah, there were totally moths in the cookies.

Hence, the garbage. What a waste of cute little mini semi-sweet chipits.