it's true it's true it's true!!!

remember that time?

That time I went to the Hootananny and had so much fun and talked about it for days and days afterwards, and Jenny and I had a thousand inside jokes to our very own for a good long time?

That was a good time.

It's time again for a

Hootananny!

thievery

I like to steal other people's posts....

as stolen from Moxywoman... it made me laugh.
Rather, it made me snort.

an open letter to the wiener (and I don't mean winner) (OR) A bad month to be a bunny

:: to the dolt who decided to take their previously beloved pet and dump it when it became to much work for them. Your pet who loved you and trusted you is now in several pieces all over the yard. Good work.

I've written and re-written a post about the "great rabbit rescue of George St." and then deleted it again.
Nearly two weeks ago (the morning after that REALLY cold night) my neighbour pointed out to me a large Cinnamon coloured rabbit that had taken up residence in his front yard. Not your average tannery area bunny, not one of the scrawny brown tufts of fur bolting from anything that moved. ...No this was someone's pet... fat, friendly, fearless...
The neighbourhood took on this bunny... One lady going door to door asking if anyone owned it, she said she was calling the humane society next. My landlord trying to convince my roomie that my rabbit had escaped "no, I REALLY don't think it's hers!" People left carrots, people left water (aka bowls of ice) I brought leftover Norty food, hay and pellets.
After a few days of trying to grab it when it ran up to greet me, I figured I needed a plan... after watching it being chased by a cat, I figured I needed a plan soon.
Yesterday I devised my plan, the bunny was now eating from my hand, but moved any time I brought my other hand near... if I set up Norty's gate, I could make a "bunny funnel" and chase him into a box.
Last night when I got home, I saw something strange. Two lines in the snow... from my driveway, across the yard, over a snow bank, up another, and off around the corner... I couldn't figure out what it was a first.. not big enough for cross country skis... did someone tie a cart to their cat? maybe that's what it was? Someone tied a cart to their cat... or really tiny dog.... I thought it was strange... but as I started to follow it... I felt sick... it couldn't be that. I stopped following it. I followed it back to my driveway and saw where it started....
bunny tracks running to greet cat tracks... cat tackling bunny... rolling... then a few tentative steps...

The tracks I saw were poor bunny's back feet dragging in the snow, covering up the tracks of the cat who dragged him into the next yard... I was too late by about ten minutes.

flash back part two

"coulda been a par-ty... coulda been a par-ty"

you know those times when you hear a phrase and it jolts you into song? I figure there's a song for nearly every phrase said out there... well .. nearly....

Every time I have to sit at the train crossing and a freight passes, I have to start singing "freight train freight train going so fast, freight train freight train wish it would last...." because that's what mom and dad sang when we sat at the crossing.

My mom used to sing that party line all the time when you started to talk about a party... or planned for one... I just thought she was making it up.

Friday, while on a work errand, (with mug-o-creme-de-ble) in hand... I heard the real song... "musta been a par-ty" was the actual line.... You know it's not going to be in the top hits chart when it takes 28 years to hear it for yourself.... It made me smile thinking about her.

I'm starting to wonder if maybe that freight train song is for real after all.....

flash backs

So Friday morning I was having a hard time keeping up. I dragged myself to work, I dragged myself thru the morning routine at work.... and I felt, in general, that I was accomplishing.... well... nothing.
It was super cold, and snowing.
All I wanted was a nice warm breakfast.
Warm and soothing...
Warm and ... pickles! I wanted it quick.

So I dredged thru the cupboards and found cream of wheat... creme de ble....
mmmm. Warm, milky, brown sugary, lumpy greatness. I slipped it into a tall bowl and popped it into the microwave.....

Lets pause for a second here and recount the last three mornings at work.....

Lesley decides she wants cream of wheat. Lesley starts to make it... and realizes that she has just 4 minutes before she must again play taxi. OR Lesley starts to make it, someone starts screaming, she fixes whatever it is that has caused the screaming... and is left ready to scream at the microwave which now is flooding boiling cream of wheat swamp-monsterish bubbles everywhere. (Roomie has a problem boiling milk on the stove... I have the same problem, but in the microwave).


Unpause:: I glanced at the clock... 6 minutes till taxi time, I can do it... it only takes 5 to cook.... uh.. yeah... guess I'll eat it when I get back?

And then the flashback...... (insert "I dreamt of Africa sound" track here)
Walking down a hill, early morning, fog close to the ground, the chill of night still on my shoulders. The smell of sugar cane, old dust and petrol. The sounds of children in the village waking up, mammas calling for chores to be done... and at the edge of the clearing, a large pot of something boiling... something warm and filling... creamy, corn porridge, the steam rising as it's poured into cups...

JOLT FROM FLASHBACK::
poured... cups??? That's right... poured into cups....
so... if I add extra milk.....
6 minutes later, I in the van, taxi-ing the individuals to their work places, a steaming travel mug in one hand... I am content.

ElbowMarie:: The pirate

Warning:: This is Piratey stuff, if you're sick of pirates, don't read this. If you're not, and it doesn't make sense to you... just go try the game...

Disclaimer:: I will not be held responsible for your addiction, nor for the loss of computer sharing in a family (sorry PaSheff)

Not too long ago, I received what I'd been waiting for...
you see, hard work and perseverance paid off.
I am a self-proclaimed puzzlepiarates addict (a piratetart?), and for months now I've been trying to reach the status of full-fledged pirate. When you join a crew, each has different requirements for this status to come about. You start out as a cabin person, then pirate, then officer, then.... there are others, ... maybe someday an officer, but for now... pirate.
Now, the crew I'm a part of (Fiddlers Green) is great, I love the crew.. I know, it's a game, but you get to know the people you're playing with, and this is a particularly chatty crew... anyway, this crew has some fairly high standards in order to become a pirate .... ok ok, really it's just that you need to have a ranking of Master or higher in Gunning and one other game.... here lay my problem.
I am a terrible gunner. I am afraid of the guns, I am given a heart attack trying to keep up with the game....
But, after many hours of practice, I got up to Master.
Unfortunately, I'm not consistent, I go back and forth between "respected" and "master" with each board I play. And the last time I played (with a total of 24 boards) I switched 18 times.
But... it does not matter, I've been promoted to pirate... I am content. I danced... I sang, I handed out imaginary cookies....

Now if only I could find some more piratey time to play....

slurps the seeds

Why is it that the only fruits I would happily eat day after day don't grow on this Continent?
for breakfast this morning::
Mango
Passion Fruit (that's right, I found RIPE pf!)
and some fruit who's name escapes me.

What I'd also like to be eating ::
Corsol
Jackfruit
Custard apple
Pineapple (not the canned or shipped to Canada variety)
Lichee (Lychee?)

not to be said out-loud without context.

So I was returning the roomie's Anti-Static, Eco-friendly, reusable dryer contraptions (these cool little plastic balls that are all bumpy that fluff up your laundry if you throw them in the dryer with your clothes- cutting your dryer time by a few minutes, and reducing the need for more chemicals and waste of dryer sheets....) My intent was to leave them on the large wooden chest that sits in her room.
Without thinking I hollered down the hallway::

"Sarah, I'm leaving your balls on your chest!"

tap tap tap tap tap tap

So, this morning I was to pick up "fred" from the Blue Box ("Beyond the Blue Box" a store that sells second hand items, money going to charity, and employs many of the developmentally delayed adults in our community). Generally I go a few minutes early as I'm on my way back from dropping another individual off. This also allows me time to wander the store..
You never know what you're going to find there... really.
My first apartment in University was furnished nearly entirely from that store... tables, chairs, end tables, most of our dishes...
Today I was wandering around, looking for cross country ski shoes... with no luck (I've never seen cross-country shoes there yet... take your pick of down hill though) so I switched my focus to cameras, looking for a fun find... nothing today... I moved over to the computer section... and I noticed a series of cases varying in size under the shelving unit. I pulled out a scuffed smaller sized case and unzipped it.... Inside? the cutest little manual typewriter ever!
I tried it out, the ribbon was still good, the keys all worked, all the capitals and numbers and symbols worked... the return bar made a satisfying click-whir noise as I pushed it across....
I was smitten.
But there was no price.
So I was downcast.
Knowing I had little money with me (lol, or in the bank) I brought the case to the counter....
I asked the cost.
Marie smiled at me "since you're a friend (motioning to the cue of people still jabbering at me) it's free of charge today."
gleefully I giggled like a school girl and thanked her over and over...
I have some serious writing to do!

and.... the coin has two sides.

Still gleeful over the gifting of a tappy tap tapwriter, I rushed "Fred" off to his next scheduled appointment.
When I arrived I realized my pocket was empty (big surprise Les, didn't you just say you had not money?) no no no....
that's not what I meant.
I realized the pocket containing my pretty little phone (that I drop on it's head nearly every day) was empty... I started to think about the last time I'd used it.
This morning... when I realized that today was NOT in fact the 18th as I'd thought... thereby launching me two days into the future... and two days AFTER my sister's birthday... oops. I am horrendous.
No, I'd had it after that... I had it at least until BEFORE I picked up "Fred". But not while I was picking up Fred....
I retraced my steps...
each and every stop was revisited. As I drove to the last place I thought to myself "isn't it funny, that this morning when I put my phone in my jacket pocket, I thought to myself, -gee, that pocket is quite shallow, better remember to switch that cute little phone of your's into your jean's pocket when you get to work.... that on this same day I'd lose my phone?"
I pulled up to the last spot... parking in the exact same spot that I'd parked that morning and craned my neck to see if I could spot it on the sidewalk up ahead.... then I looked down.
It's been a sad day for my phone.
I found it ground into the snow, a pink dimple in a tire track.