When I Retire….

When I retire they won’t call me on my day off and ask me to come in as soon as possible. I will no longer feel any obligation to help them out or need to work that hard for so little money and appreciation.

When I retire everyday will be mine. I’ll have projects to work on instead of just ‘keeping up’ on my days off.

When they called me yesterday at 7:30 a.m., I groaned. It was the second time this week I filled in for someone. I can’t afford to turn down the money and I don’t like to leave my co-workers in the lurch.

When I retire I will not drive to Grand Bend in the summer unless I have to. I’m so sick of driving back and forth. At least after next week I can drive through town and cut down my time by 10 whole minutes. There are countless tourists, trailers, boats, Jeeps with stupid young people and bicycles on the highway with no bicycle paths. Sometimes the whole town is one, big traffic jam.

When I retire I will no longer wear polyester pants or a baseball cap. (I may wear the hairnet in the privacy of my home). I will not spend 7 hours under fluorescent lights, music and announcements. Peace and tranquility will prevail.

When people ask me, “Don’t you want to stay on for a just a couple of days a week?” my answer is emphatically, “NO!”. They will call me in at a moment’s notice. My scheduled days will be bad weather in the winter: that is how it goes. Then there is the summer….. the dreaded summer…… NO! Next summer I am not going there.

When I start getting my Old Age Pension in December, I will be so happy.



Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is: Start with “WHEN.” Write whatever you’d like, but begin your post with the word “when.” Enjoy!



SoCS; Pant(s)

Today’s SoCS prompt is pant. I always wondered why ‘pants’ is plural; a pair of pants. It must be from when pant legs were separate and you tied them on……. pantaloons? Is there one pantaloon? Apparently not as spell check wants to change that to pantaloons.


Why are pants plural? What is one pant?

I wear pants all the time. Even in summer when it’s very hot, I have light pants that are cool, no shorts, rarely dresses. I have dressy pants so I don’t have to wear dresses.

A few years ago, when I was making aprons, a got some cotton with a snake-skin pattern I loved so I made some pants. They weren’t as easy as I imagined. I took a photo to post on Facebook before I picked them apart and re-sewed them. See? ‘Them’ not ‘it’. Pants are plural.

gosh, that’s almost the new style! I was ahead of my time.


I don’t wear them much now because I put in Velcro instead of a zipper which rips open when I sit down. Zippers are tricky and I have to drive to the city to get one.

Perhaps I’ll make more pants when I’m retired. With zippers.


Solitary Woman

…and I’ll be what I am; a solitary woman.

I live alone, don’t have children and haven’t made any close friends since I moved here 10 years ago. However, I do have family. There’s my sister and her kids and grandkids who I appreciate in my life so much: it would be much lonelier having no one.

But I am not unhappy on my own, in fact, a rather like it. Having lived through a 28 year marriage of yelling, name calling and bullying I really appreciate being able to do whatever I want without ‘getting in trouble’. Watch whatever I want on TV without being ridiculed or yelled at. Eat what I want, when I want. Pay my bills and have a savings account…. my own car. I can go to the bathroom whenever the urge strikes, sit as long as I need, relaxed, with the door open.  Almost every morning of my marriage I silently begged him to hurry up while I held it in agony.

Of course, some people can live this way if they have a good partner (and two bathrooms) and I might love that….. maybe. But often at night I think, ‘I don’t want some guy here.’  I sure don’t want to wake up with someone beside me. That’s where I’m at: I’m a solitary woman.

Now mind you, I would like to have a good friend or boyfriend (with his own house) to hang out with, go to the movies, out for dinner; someone who won’t be there in the morning. But so far I haven’t met anyone I want to hang out with and prefer to be on my own rather than someone I don’t click with.

I’ll tell you one thing for sure is that I have a very peaceful life with periods of happiness…. like when I can stay home all day, by myself. Some of my co-workers who have husband, lovers and kids are living such stressful lives outside of work; sick husbands, fighting kids, unpaid bills: life really is a struggle for most people.

When I was in my bad marriage I used to dream of what my home would be like if I lived alone; I was wrong. I still can’t find scissors when I need them. My bathroom still gets yucky after a few days. My place is still unorganized. I still have many one socks who lost their mate.

But its all mine; my mess, my choices, my preferences….

Don’t know if I will but until I can find me

a guy who’ll   [want to make me happy and thinks I’m the greatest],

I’ll be what I am; a solitary woman.



I know WordPress is going to head my post with big photo of Neil Diamond but, what the heck, it gives context and its a good sing-a-long.

With Sails Unfurled!

“With sails unfurled!”  This was a line in a Star Trek TV show, the second round with Captain Picard.  They had come across beings on another planet who were remarkably human-like but spoke in images and allegories. Even though they had a translating app, they still couldn’t understand the context. Eventually, Picard learned all their history and literature and surmised what they were trying to say.

Of course I can’t remember any other lines but I remember, “With sails unfurled!” meant taking their space ships and flying full speed ahead.

I love that still. Thanks, Prompt, for reminding me of an old favourite expression. Soon I’ll be retiring from my thankless job which takes up too much of my time. I’m looking forward to freedom…… with sails unfurled!

star trek2



Well, Hell! I went to Google images and found there are a lot of people who remember lines from this episode; all different from what I remembered. Fascinating!

star trek1star trek5

star trek4star trek6

star trek T



Prompt; Jiffy

My phone rang yesterday morning at 7:45 a.m. so I could easily guess who it was. It was work; the assistant manager gave me a sarcastically sweet, “Good Morning!”

She said someone phoned in sick so would I come in as soon as I could. ‘Sure’, I said. With this many days off I don’t mind getting called in. I’m sure they would like me to be there in a jiffy but these days a jiffy is about an hour and a half.

I can’t fall out of bed and get in my car as some do, drive through at Timmies and onto work: I need coffee to go get coffee. Two coffees, actually, while doing computer stuff, unrushed time for body functions, a little make-up (I don’t go anywhere without eyebrows) and pack my lunch which is always smoked cheddar cheese with Veganaisse on 7-grain bread. I’ve had the same lunch for four years (but only at work) and I still love it.

Getting to work in the summer takes 40 minutes because I have to go the long way to get around all the tourists between The Pinery and Grand Bend. Sometimes it can take a half-hour just to get through town there is so much stop-and-go traffic so I never risk it; I go around all summer. No popping over to the store in a jiffy in the summer in Grand Bend.

I punched in at 9:45; two hours from when she called but they were still happy to see me. We had one hell of a day, worked in a frenzy until 5:45. I was on ‘breads’ and was happy not to being doing cakes for a change. I sliced bread for the first half-hour, shielded from the customers; nice way to ease into the day.

That’s a great thing about getting older, too: no one expects you to be there ‘in a jiffy’. Screw your Jiffy!

I was looking for a funny meme for ‘in a jiffy’ and came across this; I had to share.

jiffy butt

Three more weeks until Labour Day! It will go by in a jiffy!


Deliver Onto Me

Delivery is a wonderful thing. Nowadays you can have anything you want delivered to your door. If I had lots of money, I would probably sit in my pajamas and order stuff; furniture, shoes, parts for broken appliances, new appliances; whatever I fancied. Yes, I would be a crazy old lady hermit in no time.

Last year I wanted a solar-powered water fountain and couldn’t get it around here or at Wal-Mart so I went on-line, ordered it and it was delivered within the week. This probably doesn’t sound like much to you younger people but to my generation it’s still amazing! You don’t have to drive to the city and park and look for the thing; it just comes to your door! Wow!

This is how old I am; I remember getting milk delivered by a horse-drawn milk wagon. Queenie, the milk horse, old and sway backed, moved very slow. She hardly even blinked when we went to pat her. We lived on a cul-de-sac so the milkman could park Queenie in front of our house and deliver to four houses, much to my dad’s chagrin. This little break was a good time for her to poop so we often had horse apples in front of our home.

milk wagon

All homes built in the 1950’s had little cubbies by the back door with little doors so the milkman could put in your glass bottles of milk and cream from the outside, and you could get them from your little door on the inside. He picked up your empty bottles as these were recyclable. This was so modern; no more milk souring on the front porch.

milk shute


milk bottles

Now milk isn’t delivered but everything else in the whole world is. That’s freaking amazing!

But one thing I can’t get delivered is restaurant food; like Indian, Thai and any other fabulous vegetarian meals. That would be a major factor in deciding to sell my house and move to London. This would only happen if and when I decide to give up driving and owning a car. By that time, there will be (and probably already is) some service that gets any restaurant food and delivers it to your door. I don’t even want to go to the restaurant; I want it delivered. This probably is dreaming because I could never afford that on basic OAP but so what? I’m not too old to have DREAMS!

Now Costco has a delivery service and you don’t even have to be a member! Oh yeah, if I had disposable income I’d have everything delivered!



SoCS: From Low to High

I’m going to get high today and be one with nature. I’m so happy! Something wonderful happened.

I was very low last week. The third day of seven-hour shifts I broke and snapped at the owner that there wasn’t enough people to do what we needed to do. I had one day off to stew about it and dread the next 4 weeks. I had a speech planned to my boss to give my hours to other people; I’d had it.

One day off at a time is not enough. So I went in the following day with lead feet. But lo and behold!  There were four people bustling around, laughing and joking, and there’s a new girl!

I shook her hand, “I’m so happy to meet you!”

Not only that she worked in cakes at another Sobeys so she’s practically trained.

Later, I checked my schedule and two days were crossed off leaving me with only two shifts. It may be meant to punish me but who cares? I’m elated!

So today I am high. It’s cool and breezy, perfect for weeding. My garden has made me feel very low when I look out at it, now I can get high and make it nice. Not too hot, no mosquitoes……..  aahhhhhh!

This shows me to hang on when feeling low and persevere; it makes you really appreciate the highs.



A Working Class Rant

I haven’t written in almost two weeks. The prompts have been way too much of a stretch to work into a post and I’ve been working so much. When I try to read blogs in the morning and maybe write, my brain just doesn’t want to work that hard.

This summer has been the worst yet. One person is expected to do the work of two and serve customers while trying to keep the shelves stocked. It’s impossible and so stressful.

We have tried to tell our new owner that we don’t have enough staff to do what we need to do but are told we don’t make enough profits to warrant more hours in the bakery. Instead, we are made to feel that we are just not working hard enough.

There’s a cake side and a bread side. In the past would have at least one on each side with and extra between, usually a student. Before and during long weekends we would have two on each side. Now we are on one at a time with a student that doesn’t know what to do and somehow work both sides and serve customers. It’s impossible.

On Tuesday I got way too stressed out. I was supposed to stock up cakes for the long weekend but instead we are going in depleted. The owner came in as I was making a special order that required a copy of a photo on edible rice paper. It was taking so long because of the constant interruptions to slice bread, write on cakes, give kids cookies, show where something is, take cake orders and more. The owner came in and said, “When are you going to get more baguettes out?”

I said, “I don’t know. We don’t have enough people to do what’s expected of us”

He walked out obviously angry. Luckily I’m 64 and don’t give a shit. I know how hard I work and what a good employee I am. I baked up more baguettes and put them out.

When I was leaving he came into the staff room. I told him it was as busy as the weekend.

He said, “I don’t see how that’s possible. We haven’t even hit $30,000. It’s as slow as the winter.”

So I drove home mad, spent the evening mad and woke up mad and aching all over. I’ve told myself over and over to not let it get to me, not get stressed out, just do my job to best of my ability and walk away when my shift is over. Try not to take it home with me. But I’m wasted, knackered, spent and depressed.

And this is the main reason I’m writing this post; the minimum wage is going up to $14 an hour Jan. 1 and next year, $15 an hour. Yes, soon as I said I’m quitting Dec. 31 we got news the minimum wage was being spiked up by $2.60 on Jan. 1.

This will put a big dent in the profits. Some businesses might go under.  What I’m experiencing this summer will be what employers will be doing everywhere: trying to push their employees to work harder and cut corners wherever they can.

I’m so glad I’m getting out of it. To work this hard and then made to feel you are not good enough (and a liar) is so demeaning. Will young people work like this? Not from what I see. Our students don’t even try and they call in ‘sick’ regularly. All of us are saying, “I don’t get paid enough to work this hard.”

Being in a job like this and serving vacationing people is so damned depressing; especially when they treat you as a just thing to serve them.  We are struggling to keep up but there is no reward for us. In that respect, I very much agree with the spike in minimum wage.  I’ve seen the middle class disappear, split into rich and poor. The new ‘middle class’ demands luxury and excess.

But I also realize the strain this is going to have on business owners.  I wonder about the future of a bakery like ours. I’m just so thankful that I’m retiring: I couldn’t take much more of this. I pity those who have to do it to survive.

If you work part-time you only get paid time-and-a-half for holidays if you work the day before or the day after. I’m working the day before and the day after but have the holiday off.  Whoever is on the holiday will have the day off before and/or after; that way no one gets holiday pay. Yup.

And I have an answer to The Owner who says the profits show that we are not busy.  In the summer we have a lot of people coming in that want service. They are coming in for just a quick meal: sandwiches and dessert and they want their bread sliced and some pastries boxed up.  Or they are going to birthday party and want a cake. They’ve never been here before and can’t find what they want. They don’t have carts, they leave with just a few things and spend less than $50.  There is no money in customer service.

But then……..shouldn’t he know this?