CALIFORNIA LIVING, CANADIAN MADE
Beannachtaà na Féile Pádraig.
Apparently that means Happy St. Patricks Day. My Brother is married to an Irish woman. My nephews all have little Irish accents. Did you know that the proper response to “Top o’ the morning to yas” is “and the rest o’ the day to yarself”? Yep. Hope you’re all sporting some green today!!!
Every once in a while—I’m talking like every 18mths or so, I get a random phone call from my neighbors back home in Newfoundland letting me know that they’re in my neck of the woods here in Southern Ontario.A lot of people may find it strange that I’m meeting my neighbors from Newfoundland, but you gotta understand our 4 backyard neighbors and our family were really close. The one’s I’m talking about today moved into the neighborhood when I was 8 years old, so they’re definitely like family to me.
A little background information… their daughter is married with children and lives in Michigan. So they frequently visit them, and when they’re driving back to get to Toronto airport they pop in to visit me!
Monday was fantastic because I received that surprise phone call from them. This was the first time I’ve had to drive to meet them at our local Tim Horton’s spot. As when they visited me before I didn’t own a car.
First things first, I have to let you know that I’ve got a terrible sense of direction and without accurate directions I will get lost. I hopped in my car and drove on the busy street to find our local Tim Hortons. I think I passed 3 on the way, and stopped at the third, got out—walked into Tim’s and didn’t see them. I called them right away asking if I went to the wrong one. Of course I did.
I noticed some young chap coming out of Tim Hortons with his fancy Roll-Up-The-Rim-To-Win cup, and I hung up on the neighbors and asked buddy where the next Tim’s was. He told me he was going that way, and to follow him. This rings a bell.
This happens to me EVERY time I go and meet my neighbors, I get lost—some attractive guy helps me out to find my neighbors. It’s become a running joke that I go to the wrong one on purpose to pick up hot guys to take me to where I’m going.
Sure enough the guy told me to follow him in his van, he even put on his tick-tocker to show me how to enter the Tim Horton’s plaza area, and off her went—disappeared onto the highway somewhere.
I spent about 45 minutes with my neighbors chatting with them about my family back home, and my life in Ontario. It was a good visit :)
Photos below, you can click to enlarge them if you’d like!
My super giggly cheesy grin. I was SO happy to see them!
Mister DÂ wanted to take so many photos of us. Here’s another angle! Mind you – this was lunch time, and I was laughing at him taking so many photos. Mrs D’s phone rang, she answered it upside down and didn’t know who was calling because the numbers were upside down. Omg.
Mr & Mrs loved my car and have only seen it once before. Had to get a shot in front of that too!
Here are the photos that we took together the last time they were up. I feel like I looked so young (or most likely just woke up from a nap)! lol
The end!
I always think back to when I worked at the Hospital for a number of years. Whether you were working as a Housekeeper, or a Ward Clerk, we had to always wear medical uniforms. Can’t say they were the most flattering and I really disliked spending my money on expensive plain cotton, matching from head to toe. Lately I’ve been noticing places basically everywhere sell discount medical scrubs for clearly a great price. I also remember the days that we could pay $1 that would go to the Children’s hospital charity program so we could wear our jeans on Fridays. That was a highlight, especially being in my late teens/early twenties where I could show off my style a little bit.
At the moment I’m working at another place where a uniform is not needed. But also where jeans aren’t acceptable. I kinda wish they had the same thing where you can pay $1 where it’d go to charity and we could wear our non-ripped, office appropriate jeans.
So getting back to my days at the hospital. I don’t think I have any photos of that place to show you at all. But I met some great people there who I’m still in touch with via Facebook aka stalkbook. It was definitely a memorable four years working in places like the pych ward in the basement for weeks on end filling in for the Ward Clerk who was on holidays during the summer, from being in the NICU (baby’s ICU unit) and seeing teeny tiny babies being baptized and cleaning the burn unit’s massive tub the size of a lunch room. I’ve learned to not get grossed out by a lot of things. At least now I can clean toilets without gagging – however my most hatred chore to this date is dishes. Probably because I do them so often, right?
Do any of you work in a Hospital or even a Doctor’s office setting? If you’re looking for some scrubs in fashion check out the links I’ve been posting all over this blog post! :)