Mini Golf

I saw a strip club across the street from a mini golf place. I’m a liberal, but that’s too much for me. What if you’re just trying to have a nice afternoon with your family and then your kids look across the street and have to see a bunch of losers playing mini golf?

By the way, am I the only one who can’t think about miniature golf without thinking about this?

Sweet Mischief

Gill is looking for some input if anyone has any. Personally I like the sound of chocolate cherry.

Normally mischief is a bad thing when it falls into the wrong hands, but if done right it can and does make someone’s day. Whether buying someone lunch or just surprising a co-worker who could use some cheering up by bringing them their favorite coffee or tea, it is a good thing.

Something For Mom

As you know, last year I got really sick, required surgery, and developed complications. I had an ally in the fight, my mom. Inspired by the fact that Mother’s Day isn’t too far away, I thought of doing something for her. A family friend and I hatched a plan to make her a cake, problem is it’s going to be after Mother’s Day as my mom’s friend is away Mother’s Day weekend with her children and grandchildren. But we set up a date to bake sometime during that week.

Here’s Where You Come In

With out giving much away, I secretly asked my mom what her favorite cake was, and in typical mom fashion she said, “any cake I don’t have to make.”

So here are several options I’ve been tossing around. If you were mom, which would you like?

  • Traditional chocolate
  • Chocolate cherry
  • Vanilla
  • Marbel
  • black forest
  • coffee cake
  • Lemon poppyseed


This would be your stupid joke of the day.

A wife asked her husband, “Honey, could you please run to the store and get a carton of milk, and if they have eggs, get a dozen.”

A while later the husband returned with a case of quart milk cartons.

Staring incredulously at the 12-pack case of milk, his wife asked, “Why the hell did you buy so much milk?”

Her husband said, “They had eggs.”

The Blue Vest Crew

Here’s Gill with an update on how life is going for her.

You might have a couple of questions about this. No, I’m not joining a neighborhood street gang or secret society. I am, however, volunteering.

Why The Name?

The volunteers are issued navy blue vests. It’s a symbol of recognition for all volunteers throughout the Hamilton Network of hospitals.

Why Am I Doing This?

There are a couple of reasons.

A few years back I had a minor procedure to remove a benign cyst from my left knee at the hospital I’ll be volunteering at. The surgeon and technicians were really good, and I thought I should give back to a health center that served me so well.

I’m also doing it in memory of my late great friend Eric Williams {Jan. 2 1976-Apr.22 2014}.

It Runs In The family

About 25 years ago my late grandmother Mildred Ardiel {June 22 1919-Jan 22 2009}, volunteered at our community hospital. She, and sometimes I, would go around delivering either ice cream or cookies and tea to the patients.

Fun fact: before the maternity ward shut down at that hospital, I actually saw a baby, hours old, in all its red, wrinkly glory.

What Will I Be Doing?

Probably something similar to what my grandmother did.

Light Bulbs, BJs And Republicans

Found these in the inbox today.

*Son: Dad, can I have 20 bucks for a blowjob?
Dad: I don’t know son, are you any good?

*Q: How many dead hookers does it take to change a light bulb?
A: I know it’s not six, because my cellar’s still dark.

*A college kid’s in a suit hitchhiking home from a job interview when a Cadillac pulls up alongside him.

The driver opens the window and says, “What’s your politics?”

The kid says, “I’m a Democrat.”

The guy screeches away, blasting gravel in the kid’s face.

A few minutes later, a Lexus pulls up. The driver opens the window and says, “What’s your politics?”

The kid says, “I’m a Democrat.” 

The guy throws his coffee at the kid and zooms away.

A few more minutes pass and a blonde in a convertible Corvette drives up. She opens the window and says, “What’s your politics?”

The kid says, “I’m a Republican.”

She says, “Hop in and let’s go to my place.”

They go to her place, and before you know it they’re undressed and getting it on.

“this is unbelievable,” says the kid. “I’ve only been a Republican for twenty minutes and I’m already fucking somebody I don’t know.”

You’re From Ireland?

Seamus was tending bar when a patron came in and ordered a beer and a shot.

A little while later another came in and they struck up a conversation.

“Let me buy you a drink in memory of my mother land, Ireland,” the first said.

“Ireland?, I’m from Ireland too. I come from Dublin. Let’s drink to Dublin!” said the second.

“Dublin? Why I grew up there! Went to St. Mary’s,” replied the first.

“Me too,” said the second, “class of ’57.”

“Seamus, another round for the Class of ’57!” ordered the first.

And so it went.

A short time later, another patron came in.

“Hey Seamus, What’s going on in here today,” he asked, noticing the celebratory mood.

“Nothing much,” the bartender replied. “Just have the O’Reilly twins in drunk again.”

I’m Here For Help Quitting Smoking, Dr….Wait…What?

Our friend Barb sent along this article on the issue of vaping teenagers and addiction, complete with quotes from smoking cessation physician Dr. Andrew Pipe. Because when you think it’s time to quit smoking, you think Pipe. It’s just common sense, people!

This is not a quote from Dr. Andrew Pipe, but it’s so friggin ridiculous that I have to share it. What in the hell is wrong with this kid?

“I would say it is out of control,” said George Kourtis, program co-ordinator for health and physical education at the Toronto District School Board.
He recalled the story of one student sent to the principal’s office for the third time for vaping. The principal was called away for a moment, leaving the confiscated vape device on the desk.
“He was out of there for 10 seconds and the child picked it up and vaped,” said Kourtis. “He asked the child, and he said, ‘Sir, it was standing right there, I had to.'”

Like seriously? I realize the two are somewhat different, but can you imagine the balls it would take to get called to the office for smoking and then light up when the principal stepped out for a minute? I knew a few kids who fancied themselves badasses back in my day, but I don’t recall any of them ever doing that. I feel like vaping maybe isn’t the major issue at play here.

Priest Accident

Ten Catholic Priests are killed in a car accident.

At the Pearly Gates, St. Peter says, “If any of you are pedophiles, please get out of this line and go straight to Hell.”

Nine of them turn and start to walk away.

“Good,” says St. Peter. “And take this deaf cocksucker with you!”

Mildred Myrtle Ward-Ardiel June 22 1919-Jan. 22 2009

Apparently today is the tenth anniversary of the death of one of Gill’s grandmothers and she has a few words to say about it.

Grandmas are the best, and I’m extremely lucky to still have one.

I would like to take a moment out of the business of life to talk to you about someone important to me. As you can tell, I wrote her name on the top of this essay. She was my paternal grandmother, and on this date ten years ago her life race ended.

Who Was She?

Mildred Myrtle Ward-Ardiel was born at home in a blink and you’ll miss it farming community on June 22 1919. She was one of nine children, and her early years were spent in a hard scrabble farm life. When she was approximately ten-years-old one of her youngest sisters died of encephalitis. Due to the family’s poverty and the Great Depression she pretty much left school after eighth grade. She married my grandfather Keith Ardiel in July 1940 and settled in to a rural life. She had my uncle Harold in 1942, followed in short succession by my dad in 1943. In 1951 she welcomed my aunt Sandra into the family and the family was complete. Sadly in 1967 my grandfather had a massive stroke and passed on. She did find love once again with Ray Martin 1916-2000.

What Was she like?

She was loads of fun. I will always remember going to this neighborhood park near her home and tossing stones in a river. She was a fabulous cook! I’m not saying that because she was gran, but the homemade biscuits, turkey dinners, and ice cream sundaes made holidays and visits all the more special. She was stubborn. She didn’t want to go into a nursing home, even though she couldn’t remember to take her pills. She was cute. Standing at roughly five feet tall she held court for all of us six grandchildren, and would frequently surprise us with the things she would say, E.G. about seven months before her death my mom and I were visiting her at the home, and a soap opera happened to be on, she looked at the screen and with a perfectly straight face remarked, “they love to show their asses on that show.”


Sometimes around this time of year I get kind of sad, but I will always remember trips to the park, mini-golfing, and those irresistible pancakes.

Since I Moved

Gill is here to let us know how things are going. the short answer is well, which is nice to hear.

If you talked to me three years ago you probably would have noticed I wore a frown a lot. I was very unhappy with where I lived, and was getting more and more depressed by the day. It was around that time that I also was experiencing a crisis of faith.

My Previous Church

At that time I had made a tiny amount of headway in gaining the other congregants trust, but respect was another issue. Although an adult people, they would still call me kiddo and talk to me in a rather demeaning way. I would try to avoid them as much as I could, but knowing I had to stay faithful made that an impossibility. The one shiny thing was I got to sing in the choir.


In the spring of 2016 I finally had enough, and went to the supervisor. She and I had and still have a rapport, so it was easy for me to lay out how I was feeling.

Between That Day And Moving Day

I found out I was moving a short time later. In the time between I broke my ankle, {see an article about a demonic angry hill} but was more than happy that I got the call to move. Lots of packing and other arrangements were made, and I soon was where I am today.

My New Church

Once my ankle was better I embarked on a new neighborhood church find. I not only found church, but family. They listen to, respect, and even take on my ideas. They also enjoy my contributions to Bible study and at other times. I am also not just “their blind friend”. The kids call me “auntie or Ms. Gill.”


I am so happy here! People are welcoming and reasonable.