Category Archives: home

A Dose of Guilt from the Medicine Cabinet

As I was starting this year’s installment of spring cleaning, I found myself in the medicine cabinet again checking expiry dates
Even though I could have sworn I had just done this last year, the evidence seemed to tell another story, as I pulled out bottle after bottle that expired in 2014, 2015 or 2016. How did that happen?

My surprise yielded to delight when I read between the lines that I must be doing something right from a health and wellness perspective if these bottles and tubes have been sitting here, unused and some, unopened.

But my healthy delight gave way to good old-fashioned Catholic guilt, instilled by my elders of the “waste not, want not” generation. How silly of me to not have used up all of this valuable product.

True enough, despite my occasional klutzy ways and resulting need for bandages, gauze, ointment and the once-in-a-blue-moon pain pill, I seem to have a very well-stocked medicine cabinet for someone who rarely needs its contents.

I started rummaging through and asked myself why I have been buying these enormous bottles and then discarding so many unused pills when they expire. Similarly, why do I buy large size tubes of ointment when a little one would probably do?

And should I ever see the bottom of one of the smaller packages, how hard is it to go get more, especially there’s a pharmacy right across the street, and at least 22 other branches of pharmacies on my way to and from work.

Even though I was never actually a boy scout, you’d think that I was, given that “be prepared” was the family motto for as long as I can remember. I am living for the day I discover our family coat of arms and find “be prepared” or something along those lines written on the bottom. It would be perfectly fitting for a family of planners.

Little domestic accidents can happen so quickly. On those rare occasions when I might have blood gushing out of an appendage, that’s not the ideal time to walk, run or drive to the nearest pharmacy, especially if light-headedness and dizziness could result.

Just knowing that I can open a cabinet and have 3 sizes of gauze pads, assorted rolls of surgical tape and 10 sizes of bandages seems to satisfy my yearning for emergency preparedness. It may be excessive, but it brings piece of mind to know that I have on hand the perfect bandage for any wound and the ability to make it look like a perfectly wrapped gift package! I call it “first aid with style”!

Also, raised by the waste-not-want-not generation, how can I resist a bargain? When a larger size is on sale and only a dollar more than the smaller size, why wouldn’t I go for the larger one?… until the expiry date passes and I realize that I didn’t use 99% of the product.

But I think with that goes a sense of not knowing what the future may hold. Sometimes, an injury that needs daily attention for a few days or a few weeks could have a patient running through the supply in no time. And if the patient is not in a position to make multiple trips to the pharmacy, having a little more on hand is a good thing, until the patient is feeling better.

So while having larger economy sizes does have merit, I still feel guilt for returning stacks of unused expired meds to the pharmacy for safe disposal.

The lesson learned from this year’s spring cleaning is a resolution to stick to smaller packages. Unless my medical needs suddenly change, I’ll try to ignore the sale prices for larger economy-sized packages especially when I never seem to see the bottom of those containers.

Buying a size that is more in line with my actual needs will be less wasteful, I’ll save a few dollars in the long run, and it will keep away the healthy dose of guilt caused by my medicine cabinet.

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Sincere thanks for reading!
Have a great day,
André

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Filed under 50+, Health and Wellness, home, Humour

Don’t Touch the Walls!

After the completion of numerous home improvement projects over the years, it was time to redirect my attention to the walls.

When I first moved in, the paint was in good shape, and therefore wasn’t a huge priority. But as the years rolled by, I may have painted a room here and there, to freshen things up. If it wasn’t specifically with the intent to redecorate, it was usually the room that got on my nerves the worst from scuffs that would no longer scrub out.

Also, I don’t understand how previous owners could screw up patch jobs by putting matte paint over a wall finished in glossy, and vice versa. Funny enough, they took the time to match the colour perfectly (which, to me, would have been the greater challenge), but missed completely on selecting the right paint finish. Thankfully, I had enough artwork to distract the eye away from those shabby spots until I could have those rooms painted and consistently covered in the same finish.

It was only in recent years, when chasing Ivy the Wonder Cat around with the camera and taking pictures for her Instagram account, that in seeing things at her eye level, I started noticing scuffs more.

For one picture in particular, I spent a solid hour in Microsoft Paint replacing pixels to cover up a truly excellent picture of Ivy but a horrible one of a baseboard in a high traffic area.
With the help of a fantastic professional painting crew over three visits, not only did I catch up quickly but it also inspired me to finish some walls myself. It really is true how a coat of paint can quickly freshen up a place. Continue reading

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Are You a Tag Saver or a Tag Ripper?

There seems to be two kinds of people in the world: tag savers and tag rippers. I have rarely met anyone who was somewhere in the middle.

When I refer to tags, I mean those things we find inside of clothes that offer all kinds of useful information like the brand name, what the product is made of, the size and the care instructions.

These same tags can be found on pretty much any textile product including mattresses, comforters, table cloths and pillows.

I confess, I am an unapologetic tag saver. Why wouldn’t I be?

As an impressionable (and sometimes anxious) little kid raised in the era of “Do not remove by penalty of law” tags, there was no way I could have slept at night if I ever ripped off a tag, even by accident.

And throughout the years, I always saw good value in them and learned to live with them.

When I found a piece of clothing that I really enjoyed (or one that possibly drew compliments), if I wanted to go back to the store and get another one in a different colour, the tag would make that task easier by telling me everything that I needed to know. Continue reading

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Filed under 50+, home, Humour

When Screening Calls Became Socially Acceptable

I remember the thrill of buying my first answering machine, for my first phone, in my first apartment, at my very own phone number.

To me, this was a huge step forward in my new found independence, not only in helping me run my household but in remaining connected with family and friends.

Just to help set the stage, this was the late 1980s. The concept of handheld devices bombarded by emails and text messages was still years away.

For those times I needed to be in two or three places at once, an answering machine was the solution to ensure I didn’t miss any important telephone messages.

But when I was home, the reflex that many of us shared was to run to answer the phone when it rang.

I reluctantly admit that for my borderline extrovert personality, there were times that the introvert in me needed some breathing space. After exerting a lot of extrovert energy in a bustling office, I just needed some time to recharge.

When the phone would ring, I might have reluctantly said to myself, “Maybe I’ll let the machine get it”. I didn’t do it all the time. Self-inflicted guilt would not have let that happen. Continue reading

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Filed under 50+, home, Humour, pop culture

Where Are My Grocery Bags?

It is a mystery that repeats itself often enough that an intervention by Sherlock Holmes, Miss Marple or Hercule Poirot could be warranted.

Over the years, in an attempt to be more eco-friendly, I must have acquired at least 25 reusable fabric grocery bags. Yet how is it that I often find myself without one, where and when I need one?

When I first jumped on the reusable grocery bag bandwagon, I bought three, thinking that this would be enough for all of my grocery needs. “Never would I buy more than that in one grocery run, for just one person”, I thought to myself.

While that may have been true in theory, it didn’t account for the possibility of having something like a meat product or a dairy product drip.

In that instance, it didn’t feel terribly eco-friendly to wash just one bag in a wash load nor did I want to combine it with a load of good clothes. And hand washing anything that involves bleach scares the crap out of me for fear of creating a bleach stain on whatever I happen to be wearing at the time.

So I decided to wait until the next convenient opportunity for the grocery bag to hitch a laundry ride with the eco-friendly washable dust rags. But that was still a couple of weeks away. I placed the bag under quarantine (in a plastic bag, I’m sorry!) and that was when my three grocery bags became two.

It didn’t take long for two to become one, as history repeated itself, which then raised the urgency level on the grocery bag wash, for fear of not being able to continue doing my good deed for the environment. Continue reading

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Filed under Cats, home, Humour

Fixing the Eyesore Door

When I first visited this house 18 years ago, I remember saying to my real estate agent that “this thing has got to go”. I was referring to the ugly interior door that separated the entry hall from the rest of the house. And yet, it’s still here and referred to as the “Eyesore Door”.

The thing is that over the years, life got in the way. Between the time and energy required to build a career, to enjoy a social life, and to tend to other priorities like cooking, cleaning, laundry, running, writing this blog and raising a cat, the years escaped on me.

Plus, there was a priority list of other home renovations that needed to get done, because of fixtures running their course or other corners of the house that got on my nerves worse than the door.

Despite being a relentless eyesore, it faded from my radar. But this was the year to finally do something about it.

While the door was probably cute when it made its first appearance, it was made of a soft, honey-coloured wood which was prone to scuffs and scratches. Located in the most high traffic area of the house, it picked up scars from anything and everything that brushed by. The door was also my clear evidence that pets lived here before Ivy and I moved in.

What I couldn’t figure out was how and why this particular door was here, when it didn’t match any other fixture or finish in the house.

Either way, a light sanding would never have sufficed to correct the imperfections covering pretty much every square inch of its surface. Continue reading

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