A mish mash of updating

So this was my weekend. Friday-- Tracy came home from Vegas. Saturday--library, dance class and then curling with the parents. Sunday-- French homework, Daytona 500 and pizza. First thing this morning-- discovered that my fish looks near death.

Tracy came home Friday morning at 4:30 am. My aunt was kind enough to pick her up from the airport (almost wanted to spell that in French--aeroport, it's happening more and more these days). I haven't heard yet all the details of her trip but I'm pretty sure she had a good time. She slept most of the weekend so I didn't see much of her.

On Saturday morning my mom and I went to the downtown library because I wanted to take out some young adult level french novels. When I was in high school french we had to read from these short novels every class. I wanted to try it again because the reading helps me to see the vocabulary and the grammar and tenses in practice and so it becomes easier to learn. I found a few different books to try. I am starting with a translated Gordon Korman book. If you don't remember Gordon Korman, he was a popular Canadian author that I remember reading in grades 5 and 6. I also was excited to pick up a translated copy of a Baby-Sitters Club book. The Baby-Sitters Club was a popular series in the late 80s/early 90s also for the middle school kids. The reading is a bit slow going because I can't do it without a french/english dictionary close by but already it is improving my vocab bank.

Nothing really new to report from dance class. Apparently for the last class we can invite people to come and watch. Most of the girls don't seem interested in that option. I thought I would invite Lisa as she was interested in taking the class with me next term.

As soon as I got home from dance I ran downstairs, changed my pants and then ran back outside to hop in the car with my parents so we could drive out to Iles de Cheins where we would pick up my dad's cousin Pat and then drive to Lorette for the curling. My dancing shoes became my curling shoes but worked well enough. I signed up for a 2nd position and ended up on the same team as my dad, who took 3rd. It was a funspiel which meant that we played 2 ends and then opened an envelope for the scoring instructions. Sometimes the point went to the team with the most rocks out of play, or the most rocks before the T-line, etc. So it didn't really matter how well you thought you were playing. After two ends you played another team. In the end you played 8 ends in total. Considering that I haven't curled in seven years, I wasn't so bad. My sweeping is superb, my form is good, and eventually I got the weight figured out. Aiming for the broom was something I had a hard time learning the first time so this time wasn't much different. I miss curling. I hope next year I can find a team to join at work.

On Sunday as I expected, I hurt. My legs did not want to bend (thanks to curling) nor straighten (thanks to dancing). I did some stretching to help, but mostly I just complained loudly to my unsympathetic family. I always complain but truthfully I live for the pain. If I hurt, it means I did something that will make me stronger. I opted to watch the Daytona over Olympic coverage (it was only the men's hockey game anyway, a disgrace). Jeff didn't do well. He suffered some body damage early on and then messed up his transmission. His team mate Jimmy Johnson won though, which was interesting because his crew chief had been suspended by NASCAR for cheating. It was an interesting race. My aunt in London had sent me a Tony Stewart baseball cap because she knew I liked racing, and she liked the color of the hat (orange to match my truck). Unfortunately, Tony is a jerk, and he was a big jerk in the race this year. I don't know what to tell her.

Finally on Sunday night, dad made pizza. I assembled a Thai chicken pizza for myself and Tracy. I should have put more peanut sauce on but otherwise it turned out alright.

And then this morning I went into the rec room to do Pilates and found my fish Itty Bitty floating at the bottom of the tank upside down. I was horrified. My poor little fish's tail was shredded. His tank mate Fred nudged him and he righted himself and started swimming, but I don't know, he doesn't look good at all. Sigh. My fish always die but Tracy's Fred is a survivor.

I have to stop, I keep thinking of that poor fish. And I have work to do. And lists to make. Hello Monday.