Where the Walls are Soft…

Trojan Moose
Taken July 7, 2008 with Canon PowerShot A550

…a few
seconds
ago there
was a hand
in there!Yeah, yeah, I know I said I *hate* these things not two posts ago, but…The Best Memes in Life Are Stolen. Elle said that, so it must be true.

Stole this from Elle, who stole it from Angelika, who stole it from Why Are You Stalking Me?, who stole it from someone else.

1. Do you like blue cheese salad dressing?
– No.

2. Favorite late night snack?
– Mashed potatoes. And beer.

3. Do you own a gun?
– No.

4. What’s your favorite drink at Starbucks or other specialty coffee shop?
– Here in Canuckia, it’s Tim’s, and it’s either a black coffee, or an English Toffee something-or-other.

5. Do you get nervous before doctor appointments?
– Not anymore.

6. What do you think of hot dogs?
– I try not to think of them, or it puts me off them. Have eaten them. Will most likely eat them again.

7. Favorite Christmas song?
– Gramma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.

8. What do you prefer to drink in the morning?
– I wish I had the nerve to say beer. It’s coffee, though.

9. Can you do push-ups?
– I can… but will I? HA!

10. What’s your favorite piece of jewelry?
– It’s a toss-up between my Grandmother’s little silver “broach-watch” thingy, or my father’s wristwatch. I wear neither of them, though. Or any other jewelry of any other kind, for that matter.

11. Favorite hobby?
– Digital Photography.

12. Do you have A.D.D.?
– Probably.

13. What’s one trait that you hate about yourself?
– I procrastinate. A lot. I probably stole this meme weeks ago.

14. The last disease you contracted?
– Wrinkles.

15. Name 3 thoughts at this exact moment.
– I can’t possibly be expected to untangle THREE of them considering I might have A.D.D.

16. Name 3 drinks you regularly drink?
– Coffee, coffee and beer. Although ‘regular’ on beer has become more ‘few and far between’. And that’s a shame, if ever there was one.

17. Current worry right now?
– None. I refuse.

18. Current hate right now?
– See above.

19. Favorite place to be?
– I haven’t been ANYPLACE, yet. I’ll have to do something about that.

20. How did you ring in the New Year?
– I seriously cannot remember.

21. Like to travel?
– I hope so.

22. Name three people who will complete Sunday Stealing this week:
– No.

23. Do you own slippers?
– Yes, I do.

24. What color shirt are you wearing?
– Black.

25. Do you like sleeping on satin sheets?
– Haven’t the foggiest. Probably not.

26. Can you whistle?
– Can so.

27. Favorite singer/band?
– Impossible to attempt to decide.

28. Could you ever make it 39 days on the show Survivor?
– I’ll betcha I could. But what the hell for?!

29. What songs do you sing in the shower?
– I don’t. The Idiot Child does though. And in the sauna. And in the “bathroom”. And in her sleep sometimes.

30. Favorite girl’s names?
– Kyla.

31. Favorite boy’s names?
– Hmmmmm…. Matthew for my father, maybe?

32. What’s in your pocket right now?
– Nothing right now, but a few seconds ago there was a hand in there!

33. Last thing that made you laugh?
– How fast “Hand in My Pocket” started playing in my head after I typed the above answer.

34. Like your job?
– I do.

36. Do you love where you live?
– If you mean my apartment - yes. If you mean this town - not like I once did.

37. How many TVs do you have in your house?
– 1

38. Who is your loudest friend?
– “Real Life” friends - The Fly-Girl. “Imaginary Friends”, as my mom calls anybody I know online, I haven’t a clue yet. But it’s probably Suzi.

39. Do you drive the speed limit or speed?
– I always drive the speed limit. Unless I think I might have cocaine in my pockets.

40. Does someone have a crush on you?
– If so, I hope it’s a Hollywood producer…

41. What is your favorite book?
– Can’t say… too many. I like anything by Madeline L’engle. Or Douglas Adams. Or Robert Heinlein.

42. What is your favorite candy?
– Just gimme the candy.

43. Favorite Sports Team?
– At one time, it was the Edmonton Oilers, but then Wayne defected.

44. What were you doing 12 AM last night?
– Dancing in the parking lot.

45. What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up today?
– I haven’t yet woken up today.

So, steal it if you want it.

Random Song-for-the-Day: “Gyasi Went Home” - Bedouin Soundclash

Ain’t I Angelic… “looking”?

You may
not
be aware,
unless you’ve dropped
a hamburger
patty into the
sand, that sand does
not scrape off a hamburger patty. Completely. Ah, yes, appearances can be deceiving, though, can’t they? The dog knows differently, you can tell by the look on her face.

This picture was taken by my father in 1971. I would have been around 5 at the time. The dog (her name was Goldie), was 4, and I think my dad might have loved her as much as, if not more than, he loved me. He never once forgot her name, whereas I still get referred to as “Vel-errr…Kar-errr… Lisa! No…. Diddly-Do-Over-There”. He does that to all his kids, mind you, so it’s not like I’m singled out. He had too many kids, and just the one dog.

Goldie is in nearly every photo taken of me by my dad from the time she was brought home to the time she was “put down” when I was about 13.

She was old and had been through some tough times - surgery for removal of an “India Rubber” ball she accidentally swallowed (my dad still has that - ask him where my first tooth is, though) … rheumatism resulting from being accidentally run over (by my dad!!!!)… poor ol’ dog.

My parents didn’t tell me they’d put Goldie down until 4 days after the deed was done, because I was in the middle of a monstrous school project. They were worried I would be so upset that I’d get a bad mark. I cried. A lot. Not because the dog was gone, so much as I felt guilty that I hadn’t wondered where she was for 4 days. Some friend I turned out to be.

ANYWAY…. that’s not what this post is about. It’s about an incident that happened around the year this picture was taken - and probably the reason I hate cooking so much…

I think we were on Cockburn Island (stop laughing, Suzi), but it could have been one of a myriad of other islands in the North Channel that we “boated” to. I know there were other families there -

1) because my dad (along with several other dads) was three sheets to the wind (ummm… for those not in-the-know, “three sheets to the wind” is Sailor-Talk for Drunk.), and it took other dads present for such a thing to happen, and

B) because My Brother the Trespasser wouldn’t play with me, and it took other kids present for such a thing to happen.

So, all the other kids, being older, were… I don’t know…. gone, and I was left all by my lonesome 5-year-oldness to amuse myself. Under the arguable watchful-eyedness of a bunch of drunks. I could hardly help but get into trouble.

We were BBQ-ing that night. Well, the other families were BBQ-ing. Ours was “Hibachi-ing”. My dad loved his little Hibachi, because it didn’t need any dismantling for storage (we lived on a boat in the summer, remember?), or have to be strapped down on the deck.

It looked exactly like this.

Yes. Very small. Very low to the ground. About up to a 5-year-old’s shins. Reachable, in other words, to both a 5-year-old girl who only looked like an angel, and a 4-year-old dog who would eat anything within reach provided my dad wasn’t yelling “UUT! Oh, NO YOU DON’T!!” at the time. As I recall, that worked on both dog and girl equally well.

But, as you will recall, my dad was three sheets to the wind. And he did a silly thing. He told me (ME!) to “keep an eye on the Hibachi and make sure Goldie doesn’t get into the hamburgers.” Imagine that! And then he went back to his lawn chair, his rum, his buddies, and Nat King Cole on the 8-track.

So, I picked up the spatula and “kept an eye on the Hibachi”. As well as any 5-year-old who’d never wielded a spatula before could….

Now, this is about the point where the way my parents tell this story and the truth part ways. Ahem…*

To my knowledge, my parents don’t read my blog… in fact, I’m pretty sure that My Brother the Trespasser is the only member of my family who regularly does so, and I’m not even sure of that, truthfully… but if I get in trouble for the following admission, I will be forced to inform my parents who it was that taught me how to remove a locked wine-cellar door from its hinges quickly and silently, and put it back the way I found it, equally quickly and equally silently. Not to mention the party I swore I’d keep quiet about in exchange for such a valuable education. I swear I’ll tell. Fair warning, oh Brother Mine.

My parents maintain that I was “playing house”. That I “didn’t know any better”. That I just “had quite the imagination as a child”. Ri-ight. Goldie would have ratted me out in a heartbeat if my dad had thought to offer a milk bone. As it was, I think she may have scored the whole meal.

I was trying to flip the hamburgers over. I knew it had to be done; I could smell them burning. No amount of arm-waving, or sleeve-pulling, or “excuse-me-ing” could get my dad’s attention, and truthfully, it never once occurred to me to go to my mother because this emergency pertained to The Hibachi, which was most definitely my father’s turf.

And he ignored me.

And I saw my chance to finally be The Hero, and save supper.

So, I gingerly slid the spatula under a hamburger patty, and attempted to deftly flip it over, whereupon it promptly flipped off the Hibachi. Into the sand. Of course. May I remind you at this point, that I was 5.

You may not be aware, unless you’ve dropped a hamburger patty into the sand, that sand does not scrape off a hamburger patty. Completely.

But it can be disguised.

With more sand.

On all the other hamburger patties.

You can fit about eight hamburgers on an Hibachi grill. It takes approximately ten minutes for a 5-year-old girl-that-looks-like-an-angel-but-who-has-an-imagination to drop seven hamburger patties in the sand (on purpose!), scrape as much sand off as possible, and return them to the grill, sand-side-down.

They didn’t catch on until the second bite, as I recall, but they haven’t let me forget it, since. I believe we had bologna sandwiches for supper that night. Goldie ate sandy hamburger.

Not-So-Random Song for the Day: “Ramblin’ Rose” - Nat King Cole