Humour Archives - JP McLean

Skidding into May’s Home Plate

May 31, 2017 By JPMcLean 9 Comments

Though I’ve committed to touching base here once a month, this time around, I’m quickly running out of month. I’m now skidding into May’s home plate with a to-do list that would choke a horse and a teaming inbox.

I’ll blame the warming weather that entices me outside, away from the keyboard, niggling emails, and a mess of chores. But how could I turn down a lunch with girlfriends? (That’s me on the left with Jennifer Manuel in the middle and Elinor Florence on the right.)

Or a walk in the sunshine? Those are the pigs that grunt their hellos when I pass by Orkney Farm. And the weekend farmers’ market—part social, part shopping—draws me in like a bee to nectar.

May is also a big birthday and anniversary month among my family and friends. This dinner at the Old House in Courtenay was a birthday celebration. That’s Elinor Florence and her husband Heinz on one side, and opposite are me and the Cave Master.

When I have sat down at the laptop this month, it’s felt like a wrestling match with a story that refuses to yield. It’s unruly, and the ref keeps throwing down (up?) yellow flags. It’s a sure sign I need to take a step back.

The birthdays and anniversaries remind me that time marches on, the yellow flags remind me that sometimes I need distance from the stories to see them clearly, and the sunshine reminds me to get outside, breathe, and realign my priorities.

Health and family comes first, writing second, all else? Get in line. Spring will bless us just once this year. Chores will go on the rinse and repeat cycle ad infinitum. I’m choosing sunshine with family, good friends, and piglets. See you in June! With any luck, the yellow flag situation will be resolved by then.

A story with no yellow flags is Emelynn’s story. Pick up Secret Sky from your favourite retailer right here! Or click on the image for more purchase options.

Crawling into the Twenty-first Century

August 31, 2016 By JPMcLean 17 Comments

Cell phones are like leaf blowers to me: convenient, but obnoxious as hell. Call me Cro-magnon, but I’ve never seen the appeal of being reachable 24/7. However, I am slowly crawling into the twenty-first century.

I resisted having one until a road-side breakdown in 2000 convinced me I should. I have to admit, the flip phone’s come in handy since moving to a ferry-dependent island. Some months I rack up five or six minutes.

I’ve watched the smart-phone revolution from the sidelines, fascinated and horrified by pouting selfies, thumb-obsessed diners and throngs of commuters with bent necks and dropping heads.

On the upside, it’s hard to argue against the convenience of an e-reader, a GPS and the Internet, portable and at my fingertips.

So, I finally broke down and bought one. I haven’t yet figured out how to get my contacts into it, and I still prefer talking to someone over doing the thumb dance, but give me ten years – I’ll get there. I’m already enjoying the convenience of catching up with Twitter and Facebook while on the ferry, and I love being able to share “in the moment” pics from live events, like when I attended When Words Collide in Calgary.

But be warned! Pic-sharing convenience has a dark side. Last week I shared a piece of art I wish I hadn’t. Okay, it felt like art at the time, but it was my lunch. I’ve since crawled back up that slippery slope, but I have nightmares of making fish lips and snapping selfies in the bathroom.

Have you taken a slide down that slippery slope?

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Paying the Couch Surfing Piper

December 11, 2015 By JPMcLean 8 Comments

The sideways rain is here again. The wind paints the windows in a revolving display of fir needles, leaves and arbutus bark. Miss Molly and I both prefer the comfort of the couch in weather like this. And that means one of us will be paying the couch surfing piper.

The windy rain is just my latest excuse for sitting on my derrière. Writing is my regular excuse. When I’ve been inactive for too long, my back protests, which happened a few months ago. It prompted me to re-ignite my cardio routine at the gym. I try to keep it to twenty minutes a day so it doesn’t become a chore. It works like a charm and keeps my back ache at bay.

A New Workout Routine

Then, a couple of days ago, a friend suggested I join her for a different kind of workout. I figured a change in routine would be good. She likes Jillian Michaels’ twenty-minute workouts, which fits my “not a chore” criteria. There are four workout levels on this CD. We chose the first level—the one for beginners. I felt pretty good going in with my twenty-minute cardio down pat.

JP's dog, Molly, wearing red Christmas antlers — Miss Molly

Ha! Jillian stomped on my sad cardio prep (and I think she was smiling sadistically). I didn’t make it through the measly twenty minutes without rest stops, plural. I tripped over my own feet, lost my balance and couldn’t hold the plank position for more than a few seconds. Afterward, muscles I only pretended to use before that, let me know the truth. Foolish me, I went back for another run at it the next day and before I crawled into bed, my hamstrings, stomach and derriere each made their protests known.

On day three, I had to go shopping off island. Thank god. Laughing hurt, sitting down hurt, getting up was worse, even walking hurt. I had a number of stops to make, and getting in and out of the car hurt. The most memorable stop was Home Depot. I was looking for an oddball piece of hardware and saw something promising on a bottom shelf. Bending down to look was tenuous, squatting proved impossible. I ended up on all fours, and the promising item didn’t even pan out. I had to pull myself up on the shelving, which hurt because I was laughing.

Today is day four and I’m going back for more. I will get through that damn routine if it kills me. You hear that Jillian!

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Got Crabs?

September 30, 2015 By JPMcLean 7 Comments

Ah, the first crisp days of fall. Refreshing brisk morning air. Brightly coloured leaves rustling underfoot. Glossy red crabapples adorning the lawn like jewels. I’ve got crabs.

I could use a bit of exercise, I think, having been sequestered too long behind a keyboard.

In thirty minutes, I fill a five-gallon bucket with ruby crabs, stooping and scooping and feeling invigorated for the exercise. They make a pretty layer in the composter.

The next day dawns and once again I gaze out at the newly fallen crabapple abundance. So beautiful, I think, and I’ll get another day’s much needed exercise.

An hour and two five-gallon pails later, I’m feeling pretty well exercised. I stretch my achy back, but man it feels good to get outdoors and get my quota of fresh air and exercise. Another fragrant layer gets added to the composter.

Day three dawns. I stare out the window and then up to the canopy of our beloved crabapple tree. That is one prolific tree, I think, gearing up for another day of crisp fall air and exercise.

It’s drizzling, but I trudge on. Ninety minutes later, I’ve filled four five-gallon pails and topped up a composter that could double for a six-person hot tub. I’m damp with sweat and my back’s threatening to pop a disc.

On day four, I wake to the sound of rain pummeling the steel roof. Or are those crabapples? I find myself holding out hope for enough rain to flood the lawn and float the tiny red orbs away.

But no such luck. I stare outside at a new thick mat of wet crabapples. Is birth control for crabapple trees a thing?

I don my raincoat and the gloves that still feel damp from yesterday, and trudge off to face the crabs. It looks like the tree has thrown up on the lawn. Why aren’t the birds eating these things? My back aches at the thought of all that stooping and wine o’clock is hours away.

Hands on hips, I stare down at the pail and the rake, the tools of my torture, and wonder if exercise is overrated.

Collecting crabapples from the lawn with a shop-vac — Crabapple Shop-vac

And slowly an idea forms.

With renewed enthusiasm, I jog to the garage, grab an extension cord and my solution to the crabapple plague: the wet/dry shop vac.

Much to my amusement, it works!

(I have some exciting news on the writing front as well … but I have to keep it under my hat until next week.)

If you’re looking for an excuse to stay indoors, get a copy of Secret Sky with one click right here. And if ebooks or Amazon aren’t your preference, other purchase options are available under the Bookstore Tab.