I'm inspired by trivia. I live for trivia. I memorize all things trivial. Because of this, and because I'd rather be in Canada in early October than anywhere else in the world, here's a new take on my Friday Five. Come along - stand on guard with me. I'll check your answers when I come back from a weekend at the cottage, sipping Pinot Noir and eating apple crisp by the fire.
No googling, now...

1) Canada's Grey Cup is 18, 38, or 58 years older than America's Super Bowl?
The Grey Cup is 58 years older than the Super Bowl.

2) What Canadian is a hero and martyr to the people of China?
Known widely as an innovative thoracic surgeon, a vigorous advocate of democratic medical services, and an international humanitarian, Norman Bethune is revered in China as a hero in the successful struggle for the establishment of its first united republic in 5,000 years.

3) What is the world's largest fresh-water island?
Manitoulin Island.

4) Which is larger (and lovlier): the Canadian or the American section of Niagara Falls?
The Canadian side of Niagara Falls is larger. Nanny-nanny boo-boo.

5) What soft drink did Canadian John J. McGlaughlin develop in 1904?
Ginger Ale!

and... a bonus question to make up for the ridiculously easy #4...
6) What creation of Canada's National Research Council was built to move cargo in and out of the Space Shuttle?
Actually called the Shuttle Remote Manipulator System, one of the Canadarm's most impressive engineering achievements is its ability to capture a free-flying payload in a zero gravity environment.

If the Trade was Legit, You Must Acquit!
Because I've got way too many things to worry about right now, I'm going to go play over here for awhile. Wanna play too? C'mon. Everybody needs a hobby.

The Lexicon of Nana, and Other Things I Miss
Seven years ago this week, Nana died. Here's what I need to tell you about her:

I used to go camping with Nana at Silver Lake Provincial Park. When camping, she'd always pin her money to the elastic of her underpants. "Panties, child. Ladies wear panties" she told me. "Don't ladies have wallets then?" I sassed her! She smiled, and corrected me again. "No, ladies have pocket books."

Nana once told me that ladies always have an extra $20 tucked away in said pocket books, for emergencies. Also, ladies always make sure they have "car fare".

Nana used to let me befriend and name (read: feed) all the campground chipmunks. This was a magic thing because my mom never let me do this (filthy germ-ridden beasts). I named most of them Chippy, of course, and would toss them little bits of hamburger bun or apple. Loyal readers who know how many neighbourhood cats I've adopted and re-named (read: feed) find this in no way surprising.

Nana made really, really good roast beef.
Nana liked a rye and water, one ice cube.
Nana read every library book in the city, I think.
Nana covered her hands in Nivea cream and wore little white gloves to bed sometimes.
Nana's favourite colour was blue. Mine too.
Nana watched Sunday Mass on TV, as soon as she got back from attending Mass.
Nana collected wee brass bells. I have them now, in my dining room.
Nana met Mr. Crabby only once, right before we were married, right before she died.
They talked about steak. Rare steak.

Nana hated, hated nylon stockings! The funeral home insisted that we bring some along with the outfit we were to choose for her funeral. I said, this isn't right. She'd hate this.

I took a tablecloth from her home back to Toronto with me. Not a special tablecloth, just a serviceable green one that she kept on the kitchen table. I wrapped it up very tightly in tissue paper, and tucked it away on a closet shelf. Every so often, over the next year or so, I'd unwrap it and burry my face in the tablecloth, because it still smelled like her home, like my Nana.

Crabby and the New Guy : Part Two
I met with New Guy as scheduled. He was great. He even smelled great... which is a no-no in my scent-free office. He and I seem to have the same hopes and dreams for our newly-created department. Yay! I felt good. I felt productive. I felt appreciated. Then all hell broke loose.

In summation, I'm going to work tomorrow, which I had booked off to use up some plentiful overtime hours. The Furnace Guy is coming on Tuesday for our annual "sniff and check". However, due to yet another 'we forgot about this so now you have to figure it out' emergency, I have to go to work, at least for a few hours. To complicate things, Mr. Crabby and I are hosting my mother-in-law's birthday dinner tomorrow evening. Mr. Crabby's going to cover Furnace Guy, and possibly the grocery shopping if I get offline in time to make a list.

For my own mother, I can compromise. When needed, I can just start crying. "They make me work so hard, Mommy" and she's butter in my hands. Mother in laws are a different story. I'm still trying to wow 'em. It's only been seven years... Maybe if I leave work by 2:00 p.m., I can pull it off. For a good quick fix, I usually rely on my maple-mustard glazed pork tenderloin and spinach salad with camenbert dressing. Purchased dessert, natch. Do I have birthday candles? Shit.

So, Crabby and the New Guy, and Crabby and the Furnace Guy are in syndication now. It's old news. Stay tuned for Crabby Cooks for Mom #2, and for Pop who Won't Eat Anything.

Crabby and the New Guy : Part One
So far so good. He remembers me from one of his job interviews here. He complimented my new earrings, although he didn't know they were new and it sounded a little "prepared". I don't think he's a misogynist, but those suspenders suggest obvious Conservative leanings. I meet with him this afternoon. My strategy is to hand him a big fat folder of everything I've been working on, then he'll have to leave me alone and read it.

In fortune cookie last night: "You will have new professional associations."
I'll keep ya posted.