Being in Port Dalhousie (dal-ew-sy) has put me in an excellent mood for my upcoming week at the cottage. I love the water, I think I may have been a fish in a past life.



We went to go celebrate my mother's birthday and as usual she spilt something on herself. This time it was only coffee so not a big deal but funny anyway. Afterwards my grandparents came down to visit and because they like to tell stories I asked about when my Mom was born. This was met with a great smile by my grandfather who said she had been a problem ever since she was born. The first thing she refused to do was breathe so they doctors took her by her feet and swung her around.



Can't you picture it, baby in one hand, beer in another and they spin the baby until it hurls and has no choice but to breathe. Are these the same doctors that shine flashlights on patients who later say they could see the end of the tunnel?