Going East

“I think of it as going east,” said Cat Man. “when I choose which direction to step in any moment; which frame to enter next, knowing that as I turn the world the world turns me.”

“Nice.”

“Because for me East represents the source of my… guiding forces… according to my culture. You would give it a label that suits your own views.”

“No I like that. I’m more directly attuned to Buddhism and Hinduism then the other… philosophies. So yeah. And also the most inspiring thing that’s going on right now is following my friend, the Eloquent Potter on his journey in Cambodia and Vietnam. It’s actually one of the few motivators for me right now. I want to lose enough weight that I could travel there. I want to spend some time away from here… with people who don’t speak my language. I want to communicate primitively and not be shown a person’s menu of insanities so easily. So yeah. Going east.” 

Q is for Quest

From my late teens until the current decade I was strongly motivated by instinctive desires. Overlapping that in the new millennium I was strongly motivated by very noble desires.

And now, for the first time, basically, in memory, there are no strong motivations in me. And I strongly feel that vacancy. How do I take less compelling goals and make them feel urgent enough to motivate me?

One such goal is to become travel-ready. That means weight loss. The Eloquent Potter is off now to Cambodia and Vietnam on his own five-month quest. We both need to find ourselves in various manners of speaking. I fully expect he will move there permanently before long. I will want to visit him there. The idea of a more natural environment and a language gap are so very appealing these days. And I will want to visit India. I may require a long break from this society as a last-ditch effort to maybe learn to love it again. Absence makes the heart grow fonder. I have a lot of contempt to get over.

Escape

I remember when there was no issue at cottages around the presence of cell phones. If there was an issue surrounding the wisdom of group solitude and its protection, the issue was whether to allow newspapers or not. How far we haven’t come.

I remember cottage vacations where sitting around telling stories all day and sitting around telling stories all evening by camp fire was the gold standard and the norm. Yes, cottage vacations were an escape but we couldn’t help but escape to something special. Because not much followed us .

For years now I have not glimpsed this magic. Cottage vacations, for most people it seems,, are almost entirely escape; from employment mostly. And so the wonders of technology allow them to escape from only what they choose and as long as they keep their noses close to their cell phones nothing precious will be missed out on.

For me there is nothing to escape. There is only opportunity: for sustained conversation. The kind that burrows deep and forges stronger connections between us and stirs up insights and revelation; the kind in which anecdotes lead to questions and answers which boil down to one thing: how do we live our lives better?

Still, I enjoy spending time with loved ones even if we don’t do it my way.

I shot a bit of video; too little to do much with it really, but Pen Pal really wanted to see it so I threw this together. I need much practicing at video and audio editing so that I can put some proper music videos out at some point. I need to give my songs some kind of life before I entirely forget how to play them. If I haven’t already. Here’s the latest effort:

Too many vacations

“Why wouldn’t you?” said Neo.

These words ring in my mind probably every day. I think it has been a couple months at least. Or many months? I have almost no ability for tracking time.

Why wouldn’t I?

The answer I gave him was not fair. For some reason I did not approach it in a straight-forward way. Instead of explaining what I think the barrier is; I found myself trying to show him instead. It’s not that I wish to be tricky. Not at all. I deeply regard clarity. But the problem here is so very delicate. I think I tried to show him as a way to ask for help. I have long made a habit of underestimating him. We gathered weekly for so long and then, when our visits fell to monthly or bi-monthly, I failed to anticipate his swift maturation. Now on this occasion I gave him unlimited credit. I allowed that maybe he could be so brilliant as to see right through my problem. If indeed it is a problem.

Why wouldn’t I?

Why wouldn’t I want to cross that threshold? Why wouldn’t I want to further evolve? To perhaps embrace a permanently enlightened state, if indeed I was as close to such a state as I felt like I was those – what – five years ago? Ten?

I was so joyful and so at peace for so long that I told no one; only hinted. For no one would have believed me, or so I figured. And let’s face it: a lot of people have been tricked into such an apparent state by subscribing to other people’s programs built of compromised logic and puny scope. Born again or what not. People would have assumed that of me and I was in no mood to carefully explain the integrity, the courage and the patient wholeness of my journey. And I did not trust the submission of my ego enough to get into something that could become bragging. There is nothing to brag about. I have never forgotten the long roster of failures which allowed me to slide into such a rare space that reality became so easy to see. My story is not one of successes.

Why wouldn’t I?

Why wouldn’t I want to be genuinely enlightened? Permanently so?

In so many ways I have slipped backwards; too often impatient; too often tribal; too often unforgiving. Temporarily I mean. I always smarten up after some amount of time; seconds or minutes; perhaps hours rarely.

It seems I never lock the cell door anymore. My ego takes little parole vacations according to its own whims and on my own whims I say, “Hey fucker! Get back in your cell!”

I forget my goals. I am disloyal to my own plans.

Build the plan. Work the plan! The foundation of any enterprise. I suspect sometimes that I fail out of fear. If you work the plan and the plan fails, then what next? Working the plan invites possible failure and I don’t know what post-failure looks like. I don’t know what the new plan is. I know I should have more clarity than this. I’m not clear what is holding me back.

Why wouldn’t I?

I’m not sure I can express here, the difference between what I should have explained versus what I did say.

I think I’m afraid of losing my identity. My identity is dear to me despite its seductive torment. As it is with the child abuse survivor who refuses to give up being a child abuse survivor. I’m the guy who loves immensely and wants nothing but to show it and is always handcuffed from showing it; whose heart is always dangerously close to bursting.

“But when you’re enlightened you won’t care about that anymore,” says Neo.

I must presume that is true. But it is still unimaginable.

I worked so hard to get so far and then I paused and said, No, I can’t go any further because I’m leaving everyone behind. I can’t remember what it was like to be like them. I am losing my ability to relate! I must back up a bit so I can reach them; so I can communicate, so I can help them along! Why ever should I go on alone? If I can do this, anyone can and everyone can! I have achieved out of rare opportunities, not rare talents.

I took a long journey, a working journey, and I came to what I perceived was a gateway; another one-way gateway, for I’d lingered at such a structure before, prior to marching forward, when I’d understood the matrix and decided I had to leave it; that despite the terror there was no turning back. No blue pill after all. But here at this new gate I did turn back and I have been too often on vacation ever since.

It has to change.

Wilberforce Sunday

I’m sitting in shorts and open shirt, cottage at my back. The air is perfect warmth and perfect breeze. The lake is dotted with fisherman while the late sun conducts a silent fireworks display upon its surface. I’m writing a novella about the marginalized hangers-on of a remote dwindling village, shaken out by industrial mishap and environmental crisis. Where this idea came from, I have not a clue. But it’s a joy to be writing something entirely character-driven as these odd denizens have nothing left but each other, with all of their flaws.

abatis [ab-uh-tee]

What follows is a week of entries from the guest log of a cottage that my friends and I rented. It seems pretty normal at first:

Saturday August 11

Wow! What a beautiful cottage and a beautiful lake! We love the Paper Birch trees. It’s so nice and quiet here! We heard loons calling from far away. The windmill and the water cooler make a subtle symphony of strange noises!

Sunday August 12

We swam and played games all day – all four of us. Some chipmunks came by. Heard the loud call of a heron as he soared low across the shoreline. Beautiful! The setting sun makes the lake look like wine!

Monday August 13

Had breakfast in town. Bought a big bag of peanuts and fed the chipmunks all day. A moose came by! He seemed to check us out for a bit and then wandered away.

Wow! What a storm! Magnificent! The lightening on the water plays tricks with your eyes. Looks like faces emerging from the lake!

Tuesday August 14

There’s some trees down from the storm. A few have fallen across the lane way. There are strange footprints all over the beach. I think Stevie is playing a joke on us. Belinda and I played Scrabble. Amber and Stevie played a game called Trouble. The chipmunks did not come today.

Wednesday August 15

Worked on the lane way most of the day. At this point there are quite a few trees blocking it. Came face to face with a bear. It was huge. We stared at each other a long time before it ran away from me. It’s so very quiet. The setting sun makes the lake look like blood.

Thursday August 16

There’s a big puddle in the kids room. It rained heavily all night – which softened the ground. Made it easier to dig the holes. Ideally they should have been deeper but there’s so much work to do. So many trees to chop down for the driveway. All work and no play makes Brian a dull boy.

Friday August 17

Filled in the three holes. It’s so quiet. Even the windmill and the water cooler are silent. Played solitaire. Won 66 times. Lost 600 times. There are puddles all over now. They look like wine.


Okay. I confess: I wrote all these entries in the log the first day we arrived, before we fell in love with the place and knew we'd want to come back every year. Luckily the owners weren't offended! 

April A-Z: Choking the Chicken

I was on vacation, abroad, with friends and staying for a few nights with one of the friend's relatives in a rather large multi-family estate. The patriarch of the family was celebrating a birthday and a party was being planned for the afternoon and evening. A chicken dish was planned and one relative offered to go pick up some booze and groceries; chicken included. I offered to come along for the ride. Privately I wished to contribute to the cost since their excellent hospitality had been free.

We departed the grocers without chicken and no alarms went off in my naive little head. We then proceeded to the chicken farm. I shall reveal now that this took place in Trinidad.

The chicken farmer received our request, vanished, and returned with... a live chicken, his fist around its throat. ALIVE! I was not impressed.

"Shall I remove the head?" asked the farmer.

"No," said my host. "My new friend from Canada wants to do it!"

"Like hell I would."

I backed out of sight of the chopping block, heard the act and watched as the the bloody beheaded corpse was handed over in a clear plastic bag.

To be clear, this was a dose of reality I very much deserved but I wasn't feeling very appreciative at the time. As a consolation the host said he knew where to get fresh limes for the rum-and-tonics I planned on getting demolished on that night. He then stopped in front of a private residence, exited the car, looked both ways and then hopped over the fence. This was a neighbor he knew to have lime trees in the back yard.

I looked at him gravely when he deposited the spoils in my arms.

"It's okay," he said. "They're relatives of ours."

Sure they were.

Happy. New year.

 

I spent the holiday season at Multispirit House, home of the Thoughtful Educator and his family, enjoying the company of two excellent cocker spaniels while the human contingent had gone off to Florida.

My stays there are very enjoyable. I love the affectionate, well-behaved dogs, and in the absence of house-mates, I can sleep well during the day before pulling occasional night gigs at the jail. The house is always clean, organized, well-stocked with anything I might need, and it's decorated in a very multi-spiritual way, with Hindu, Buddhist, Christian and Jewish iconography, so it's all very attractive and soothing to me and a perfect environment in which to achieve superior work - and the lack of a human audience allows me to noodle at the guitar without inhibition.

However there are rare treats too. Big TV's for superior movie-watching, and for video-gaming, and now a hot tub. It's getting to be a bit of a resort by my standards. And indeed I might be accused of making this last stay pretty much 100% vacation and zero work.

But pondering the theory of a restorative nature of vacations, I might honestly say that I feel well-equipped now, to get back to work in a big way.

It seems many things are lining up and pointing toward a successful 2014. I will stay in touch. That's a promise.

Muskokaville

My little video slide-show from our cottage vacations over the last five years:

Diehard 2 - featuring Skeeter Willis‏

Welcome back. It’s been quite a while since we’ve met. I’m a few years older, but not necessarily wiser. Mr. FWG has sporadically reminded me that I owe him a follow-up blog to my premier several years ago – and he’s right, I do.

So, here I am, in my sophomore performance.

I’ve recently returned from a short getaway to New York City, aka Manhattan for you early Native Americans, and aka New Amsterdam for you early 1600’s settlers.

My family and I did the traditional touristy things and spent many hours on the top of the bus or in the back of a carriage-drawn bicycle. Money well spent, I suppose. I enjoyed the never-ending name dropping: Mr. Diehard lives here and another Mr. Famous was shot there, etc. Assuming, of course that this big-city trivia is remotely accurate. Who am I to doubt the historical accuracy from a bicycle-riding student from Bulgaria?

I found it odd that hundreds of people sit in lawn chairs in the heart of Times Square – all day long, 7 days a week. It’s quite a sight. The first time I saw it, I assumed that a street performance was about to begin – but no. It’s common place. Locals, tourists – they just sit there and watch the world go by, surrounded by all the never-ending lights of Times Square.
Apparently, all those companies advertising in Times Square are spending $600,000 PER MONTH to advertise there. Isn’t that sick? That’s over $7 million a year for EACH of those companies – and there’s dozens of them. Isn’t our society’s priorities warped? Just think how much further ahead our medical science could be if they re-directed even half of that wasteful spending to research.

I’ll step down from my soap box.

There seems to be quite a concerted effort by the tour guides to distinguish between ‘Old Money’ and ‘New Money’. Mr. Old Money owns these seven blocks and Mrs. New Money lives up there in the tower with her husband, Mr. Sony. All I know is that, old or new, they’ve all spent WAY TOO much money on real estate in New York. Most of them can’t descend their elevator and leave their building without seeing so much as a tree. Mostly concrete and asphalt for as far as the eye can see. Did you know that I have grass outside MY Thorold front door and several trees to look at - complete with their own singing birds. These millionaires would be jealous if they only knew how little I spent compared to them.

The new President is all the rage down there. Only time will tell if this change is the change that they were looking for. All I know is that several street vendors tried to sell me condoms with his likeness on them. Nothing says love like sharing the inner beauty of your significant other with the President’s likeness. I’ve heard of walking in another man’s shoes, but this is going too far.
New York was a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live there. It’s good to be back to my small town. I was born in a small town, and I can breathe in a small town, probably die in this same small town.

[Insert John Cougar copyright infringement lawsuit here]

Thanks Rich for the invite. See you again in 3 years.

...Skeeter

Where were you...

You know, whenever people say to me, "Where were you when you heard Kennedy was killed?", I have to say, "Sorry. I wasn't born yet. I wasn't even germinating in momma's tummy yet. I wasn't even a sparkle in some rapist's eye yet. I may posess the wisdom of a two-hundred year old guru, but I'm actually only forty. Kennedy departed six years before I came along."


[Editor's note: No one has ever asked FWG where he was when Kennedy was shot.]


But if Michael Jackson's death is the Kennedy of my generation -


[Editor's note: Not very likely. Half of FWG's friends are cheering, "The PED is DEAD!"]


- then I will not forget where I was. I was on Facebook chatting with Cap'n Vino. Here lies the transcript, forever immortalized:

FWG [is off duty ‘til Monday night!]

coincidence? obviously not.

Cap'n Vino [Wow, Farrah and MJ on the same day?]
I've never really been into it myself, but who am I to judge?

FWG
been into what?

Cap'n Vino
duty.
ok, I clearly did not get enough sleep.

FWG
I was talkin bout MJ and FF

Cap'n Vino
ok, now your comment makes more sense.
add Ed McMahon to the mix and there's your 3.

FWG
what about the leblanc guy?

Cap'n Vino
Patrick Swayze is wiping his brow, I'm sure.
who?

FWG
whatever

Cap'n Vino
matt leblanc? joey from friends?

FWG
no this guy was 81 and died yesterday and the newspaper ppl thought that was significant
and he was canadian

Cap'n Vino
oh, romeo

FWG
tada

Cap'n Vino
but he wasn't in entertainment, so apparently he doesn't count.

FWG
he probably watched TV
thats entertainment

Cap'n Vino
I don't know...a guy named romeo...he was probably more into reading shakespeare

FWG
u win

Cap'n Vino
excellent. it's all about winning

FWG
THIS JUST IN...
rod has emailed cottage response

Cap'n Vino
und?

FWG
he only has one vacation day left
what a loser

Cap'n Vino
and I guess he's not willing to take a leave of absence for the remaining 6 days?
you told him there'd be booze right?

FWG
friggin guy's back and forth between his office and Dallas office all the time
he should just tell each office he's at the other

Cap'n Vino
that works for me. he could go into town every couple of days and make a call. problem solved.

FWG
presto

Cap'n Vino
I'm growing basil...I could make that
oops...presto. never mind

FWG
I'm lost. what's the word I'm looking for?

Cap'n Vino
map?

FWG
something -esto

Cap'n Vino
manifesto

FWG
pesto?
thtz not it
is it?

Cap'n Vino
basil, olive oil, pine nuts? yep, pesto is it.

FWG
okay. dunno why it became so unfamiliar to me all of a sudden

Cap'n Vino
it's a funny word. I say we call it presto from now on.

FWG
I'm in.
and a one item pizza is called pepperonli

Cap'n Vino
I'm having a hard time saying that one and I'm nearly sober.

FWG
PEPPER... ONLY
CINCH
oops - cappslock stuck

Cap'n Vino
stop yelling at me!!!
I think the I at the end threw me off
if I were to have a one topping pizza, it would probably be mushrooms.
we could call it mushroomi

FWG
not in my house you wouldn't
but you're at the shop

Cap'n Vino
I am so

FWG
you are so

Cap'n Vino
what did you call me?!?

FWG
So.

Cap'n Vino
I see.
I'm sending off a message to my friend jeannine to see if they are available.

FWG
bravo

Cap'n Vino
I crack me up.

FWG
yeah, that word 'available'

Cap'n Vino
What are the chances that you guys have some vacation time available Aug. 29-Sept. 5? We've rented a cottage up north with our friend FWG. Stacey (our wedding photog, and Plonk's gay cousin's ex-wife) was due to come along but just bailed.So FWG and us decided to take turns asking people who would be fun to see if they are available. He got first dibs, but his person only has one day of vacation left. Our turn!You're my number one! (of course, if you guys can't make it, I'll be telling all my other picks that they were number one, but you seriously ARE my first pick.) It is such an awesome place. This is our 3rd year there. It's the only cottage on the lake. VERY PRIVATE. No hydro. Propane appliances and lights.Anyhooo, let me know if you guys are interested.ciao baby.
there...sent

FWG
Nice.
All your previous picks were busy, I guess.

Cap'n Vino
ya, pretty much.
I'm hooked on this damn bouncing balls game!

FWG
sounds painful

Cap'n Vino
it's not a real hook

FWG
ew

Cap'n Vino
I'm getting a hand cramp from playing so much

FWG
i think i've heard enough
did you guys ever meet my friends tim and aaron from Florida?

Cap'n Vino
yes, many years ago

FWG
they've talked about wanting to visit this summer. They may be my next proposal if Jeanine ixnays.

Cap'n Vino
sounds groovy

FWG
did u just say groovy?

Cap'n Vino
no, but I may have typed it

FWG
oh yes - there it is.

Cap'n Vino
yes, I've just browsed the transcripts. I did, in fact, type "groovy"

FWG
would you call the cottage wheel-chair accessible?

Cap'n Vino
well, there's a ramp to get in, but I'm not sure about door sizes and all that.
getting to the beach could be a chore too

FWG
acknowledged.

Cap'n Vino
why? who's in a wheelchair?

FWG
Frank of "Frank and Jeff"
awsone fellas
aw-SUM, I mean
hates me this keyboard

Cap'n Vino
tim & aaron already get the boot?

FWG
No. I'm already planning the next 88 rounds of picks

Cap'n Vino
good plan.

Cap'n Vino
won't you take me to funkytown?

FWG
in your dreams

Cap'n Vino
I love the 80 's lunch

FWG
oh

Cap'n Vino
bastard!

FWG
i wish you'd stop bringing that up

Cap'n Vino
I'll try...how about shithead?

FWG
no thanks. cutting down.

Cap'n Vino
peckerbreath?

FWG
i haven't had oral sex recently, if that's what you’re asking

Cap'n Vino
I wasn't, but thanks for the info

Cap'n Vino
hey

FWG
horses

Cap'n Vino
peter (of doug & peter) just signed a lease for the shop two doors down. He's opening a gluten-free bakery in September.

FWG
wowzers I say

Cap'n Vino
ya, I think doug's got some nervous diarrhea now.

FWG
[pushes lunch away]

Cap'n Vino
Mmm...lunch. I should have mine soon

FWG
please. take mine.
I'm gonna head outside. Enjoy the weather.

Cap'n Vino
I'm going to stay in and enjoy the a/c

FWG
Let me know what Jeanine and whozits has to say, buc

Cap'n Vino
have fun!

FWG
...karoo

Cap'n Vino
will do

FWG
later gator

Did you make it to the end? Sorry for doing that to you.

Dispatches from the Want-n-While lodge

I'm not even going to bother fixing the awkward random spacing that will inevitably fuck up the layout of this post nor will I bother to find out who at Blogger.com is responsible for this fuck-uppedness that happens every time you try to post more than five photos nor will I knee said person in the crotch. We'll just live with it 'cause there are worse problems in the world...

This is the best pic I have of the cottage itself. It's kind of buried behind the trees. Use your x-ray vision:



Professor Plonk salutes the wolves upon trading authentic wolf howls with them. We think he said, "If you're coming over to visit I recommend you eat the others and not me. They're much tastier."



Foggy morning:


More 'foggy morning':





Still more 'foggy morning':

Enough 'foggy morning' to choke a small horse:

Not so foggy:

Who 'dat!

Cap'n Vino shoots a giant stool! Um - toad stool, that is:

Gateway to the land of the Tommyknockers:

Caught on the Tommyknockers' surveillance camera:

Me and Stella:

A few random quotes from the week:

"I started my vacation off properly. Had two beers and a Cuban cigar for breakfast."

"Why does this toast smell like fish? Did you grill this toast on the barbecue? By god, it tastes like fish."

"The mellow yellow policy is simply good water management."

"Go get your quadrapus!"

"Looking up at the stars I know quite well... That for all they care I can go to hell... But on earth indifference is the least We have to dread from man or beast. How should we like it were stars to burn... With a passion for us we could not return? If equal affection can not be, let the more loving one be me." (W. H. Auden)

"Apparently you get six bucks worth of free Crispy Crunches with every fourteen cent purchase of baking powder. Who knew?"

"Make way for the dock dip."

"Oh come on people. Do I have to demonstrate how to perform a demi-squat?"

"I like this tissue with lotion. I only needed one sheet instead of three and it leaves a nice taste on the lips."

"ISLANDS IN THE STREAM! THAT IS WHAT WE ARE! NO ONE IN BETWEEN!"

"OH, FUCK OFF WITH THAT SONG! YOU PRICK!"

"What the hell are these tommyknockers you keep talking about?"

It's a band? Manhattan Transfer! Three words... First word... The! The Manhattan Transfer! Second word... Um. Suspenders! Lumberjack! Paul Bunyan! Backpack! Hiking! Sinking! Melting! Stairway! Downstairs! Manhattan Transfer! Falling! Mushroom! What the? What are you doing? Oh! Flying! Airplane! Jefferson Airplane! Jefferson Starship...! Third word... Swing! Bat! Club! Buena Vista Social Club! The Breakfast Club! Oh! Oh! The Parachute Club! Oh shit. We were out of time.

The wheels... are in motion!

I had a couple meetings with my boss at Ye Olde Information Company this week.

They refused to dismiss me or give me a severance package - no surprise - but we did plan an exit strategy where the company and I will trade favors and part ways between three and four months from now. Basically I will stay on until they can get a new person on board and the successive training completed that will shift everyone involved into their new roles.

And then... look out world! I'll be free from the Matrix. And I'm coming after you!

In other news:

Item one: Completely independent of this circumstance, I was approached by two separate persons this week regarding income opportunities of writing and self-employed natures. How interesting how things fall together.

Item two: Very dear pal, Professor Plonk actually applied for a new job this week. I've only been urging him toward this end for twenty years or so. Did I mention it's interesting how things fall together?

Item three: Also in the realm of expanding my poetic adventures - Crushed By INGSOC has appointed me a guest position on his very most excellent blog. My debut article went up today. I'll be posting there once a month or so.

Item four: As of tomorrow, Friday August 22, 2008, at 3:01 PM -- I am on vacation! Going back to the Want-N-While lodge for a week with Professor Plonk, Cap'n Vino and their new wee dog, Stella who looks adorably ugly and shatteringly cute all at once, in pictures that is. And also with the excellent Doc Swallows and some chum of hers who I look forward to meeting.

I shall miss you when I'm gone! Back in a week or so.

Cheers.

Mr. Grill

Walked into the restaurant and was immediately greeted by a man wearing a name tag reading Sunset Grill. Now, his name may indeed have been Sunset Grill for all I know. I have little doubt that one or more persons named Sunset Grill actually exist given the vast population of the world and the rare-but-not-too-rare frequency of humorous naming activity that has made Ima Belcher a reality along with a brother and sister combination named Gonora and Syphilla and of course numerous occurences of both Santa Clause and Douglas Fir Trees.

.

But this restaurant is called Sunset Grill so I'm thinking we're asking for way too much a coincidence here.

.

I was sucked into this place by the promise on their sign reading World Famous All Day Breakfast - but wait. I'm sorry. Assuming you live in the same world as I then you must surely already know about their breakfast. So I'll get to the point. Here is the dialogue from this encounter:

.

Man-who-may-or-may-not-be-named-Grill: Hello. How are you today?

FWG: Excellent, thanks. How are you?

MWMOMNBNG: Table for one?

FWG: Yes please. And how are you today?

MWMOMNBNG: Inside or patio?

(three seconds of silence)

FWG: I volunteered how I'm doing today when you asked.

(two or three seconds of silence)

MWM-etc: Yes?

FWG: Inside please.

.

What can I say? The man is an enigma. He may be named Grill or he may not. He serves breakfast all day as all the world is aware but how he is doing today, the world may never know.

.

FWG

FWG's nature safari

I went on a wilderness tour down Mississauga's Credit River valley trail. Figured I was much overdue to get back to nature and journey this untamed wilderness paradise I'd been hearing about. Check out the highlights:
.

Ah, So there is a river down here!

. Where's the Bridge out sign?

.

Wow. Look at that sheer surface. If I was a tenth level thief with dexterity 16 I could climb that sheer surface - oh - 96% of the time, I'm guessing.
.
Hmm. Something's missing from this scene. I guess they couldn't come up with a good sign idea. How about: WARNING: Trees and green stuff ahead.

.

Took this photo just as the mega-dark clouds rolled in. Had to photo-shop the buhjeezes out of it to lighten it up hense it looks like crapola. Then the rains avalanched on me. I then dodged lightning for three miles and got home looking like I'd gone swimming in my clothes.

Fun stuff.

Whiling away at the Want-n-While... Saturday

Sadly, all good things must end. We departed the haven, leaving behind some Lego artwork - a tow-truck and crazy-ass mega-tow truck-hauler vehicle, and a somewhat impressionist likeness of the five of us gathered on and around the dock.

And we left behind a completely fictitious entry in the guest book, designed to raise eyebrows – or goose bumps. The entries go like this:

Saturday August 11

Wow! What a beautiful cottage and a beautiful lake! We love the Paper Birch trees. It’s so nice and quiet here! We heard loons calling from far away. The windmill and the water cooler make a subtle symphony of strange noises!

Sunday August 12

We swam and played games all day – all four of us. Some chipmunks came by. Heard the loud call of a heron as he soared low across the shoreline. Beautiful! The setting sun makes the lake look like wine!

Monday August 13

Had breakfast in town. Bought a big bag of peanuts and fed the chipmunks all day. A moose came by! He seemed to check us out for a bit and then wandered away.

Wow! What a storm! Magnificent! The lightening on the water plays tricks with your eyes. Looks like faces emerging from the lake!

Tuesday

There’s some trees down from the storm. A few have fallen across the laneway. There are strange footprints all over the beach. I think Stevie is playing a joke on us. Belinda and I played Scrabble. Amber and Stevie played a game called Trouble. The chipmunks did not come today.

Wednesday

Worked on the laneway most of the day. At this point there are quite a few trees blocking it. Came face to face with a bear. It was huge. We stared at each other a long time before it ran away from me. It’s so very quiet. The setting sun makes the lake look like blood.

Thursday

There’s a big puddle in the kids room. It rained heavily all night – which softened the ground. Made it easier to dig the holes. Ideally they should have been deeper but there’s so much work to do. So many trees to chop down for the driveway. All work and no play makes Brian a dull boy.

Friday

Filled in the three holes. It’s so quiet. Even the windmill and the water cooler are silent. Played solitaire. Won 66 times. Lost 600 times. There are puddles all over now. They look like wine.


Not sure how well the stunt will be received! That’s it folks. Cap’n Vino has posted his own rendition of events at the Want-n-While here on Freak Magnet Dave.





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