April's Real Blog

Monday, July 10, 2006

Tinkle Tonkle

Mike just called complaining abt his ceiling fan in their bedroom. It kept making a "tinkle-tonkle, tinkle-tonkle" sound last nite, and he tried 2 stop it by tugging at it, but that only made the "TINKLE TONKLE TINKLE" louder, so then he applied a whole buncha tape 2 it 2 make it quiet. The tape 4 sum reason changed the sound 2 a "tick-tap-tick-tap-tick-tap", which I think is hilarious, cuz it's like he hadta listen 2 himself typing up in the attic, but Mike failed 2 C the humour in that. He told me that as he lay awake in bed, blinking and haggard, he was thinking, "Whoever designed that ceiling fan never had 2 sleep 1 of them." Yeah, OK.

Ger, it was cube that yr camp let U fly back 4 the weekend so U cd hang w/us yesterday afternoon. I hope U R not 2 tired from taking the redeye 2 yr camp in Iceland last nite! Thanx 4 giving me that autograph U got fr. Bjork!!!

Dunc, that rehearsal studio yr Dad set up 4 U in his former choo-choo room is hella-cube! My dad wd nev in a million-gazillion yrs give up his choo-choos! And use the space 4 me!

Becks, Howard, Jeremy, thanx 4 writing in fr. the tour an' letting us know how U R. Glad U got that air conditioning going!



  • At 7:40 AM, Anonymous shannon lake said…


    I had a ceiling fan once that went "Tinkle. Tinkle. Tinkle." I had to get up in the middle of the night a lot to go to the washroom. Maybe that's why your brother got upset.

    Shannon Lake

  • At 7:43 AM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    mayB u r rite, shannon. u nev know w/my bro!


  • At 8:20 AM, Blogger howard said…


    Notes from the tour. We had a long bus ride to Fredericton, New Brunswick, so Becky can participate as performer in the New Brunswick Summer Music Festival. It was a rough night sleeping. Thorvald insisted I, as Becky’s fiancé, sleep right next to Becky to make sure she and Jeremy Jones did not do anything together. I had been spending most nights next to Marjee Mahaha in the bus, where we would sometimes engage in a friendly game of …Oops. Sorry. You’re too young to hear that.

    Anyway, The Daily Gleaner, or as they call it here, The Gleaner has an interview with Becky today in preparation for the publicity for her performance. Then she has a live interview on local radio, 105 FM, The Fox. She’s a little nervous about it and I can tell. The interviewer is a woman named Elizabeth Winkle-Wonkle, and all night she has been muttering, “Winkle-Wonkle. Winkle-Wonkle” in her sleep. I haven’t slept a wink. I think I am definitely going to be napping when Becky is interviewing.

    Howard K.

  • At 8:35 AM, Anonymous michael patterson said…


    Little sis. You left out the best part of my story. When I was playing with the ceiling fan cords, I used the most imaginative curse words which included a star and the planet Saturn.

    Your observation about the “Tick-Tap-Tick-Tap-Tick-Tap” sounding like typing on my keyboard ended up being correct. When I went up into the attic, I found a squirrel at the keyboard typing out a story. I thought I was imagining things, so I went back downstairs and tried to sleep some more. When I went to the attic a second time, the squirrel was gone and I knew I must have dreamt the whole thing. Then I saw on my computer screen, there was a story, a love story actually, about a woman named Iris who smelled nice and gave away high quality nuts. Then there was a long expose examining the dynamics of a human / squirrel relationship. I think it has some possibilities for a humourous weekly column. It just needs a little editing with my Patterson writing skills to smooth out the rough edges, where the squirrel lover wants to do away with “the mangy Jim,” his rival for Iris’ love.

    Michael Patterson

  • At 10:23 AM, Anonymous Constable Paul Wright said…


    Boozhoo (Hello).

    I read your writing about your niijikiwenh (brother’s) trouble with the ceiling fan. We don’t have many ceiling fans in Otter County, but when I have been in a place with a noisy ceiling fan, I find the best solution for the noise is to turn the ceiling fan off.

    I spoke with your sister for our usual two hours last night. She told me about school and sharing her kitchen area with two other single teachers and one exchange student from China. She told me she had a long conversation with the exchange student about whether or not they needed English teachers in China, and whether or not they allowed cats to travel to their country, and whether or not they would be willing to learn Native Canadian ways of teaching. Then your sister asked me a very interesting question. “Does the Ontario Provincial Police have any detachments in China?” I told her that all the Ontario Provincial Police detachments were in Ontario, and my sweet girl didn’t seem too happy with that answer. The whole conversation made me nervous.

    You may or may not be interesting in happenings with my friend Chipper (Susan Dokis) in Mtigwaki (Land of Trees), since you have not met her. She told me she is thinking about having me come into her classroom in the fall for a special lesson on the importance of law enforcement in the Northwest. She said it might be a good idea for me to come to Mtigwaki (Land of Trees) a few times to help me prepare for the presentation. I think she wants to do it Ojibway style, which is to say, the presentation will be done with my speaking Ojibway and no English. This would be for the immersion into Ojibway required for the schools after the June council of the tribal chiefs. Chipper says I probably don’t know about immersion into Ojibway since I have been doing, basically, immersion into White or English for awhile. Chipper says there is a lot she can teach me, since she just graduated from university. I am looking forward to learning something new.

    Gi'-ga-wa-ba-min' na-gutch! (See you later!)
    Constable Paul Wright

  • At 10:34 AM, Anonymous jeremy jones said…

    april, we’re in fredericton, new brunswick & rebeccah iz n a foul mood. she had sum radio interview where she sed the thing she liked best ‘bout new brunswick wuz the brunswick stew. i guess she didn’t know brunswick stew iz frum the st8s. i think the radio interviewer wuz sum woman named, “winkle-wonkle” & rebeccah kept callin’ her “tinkle-tonkle”. rebeccah blamez ur bro 4 sum reazn. i dunno y. i evn told her “rebeccah, u look rilly lovely 2day” & she wuz still in a bad mood. mebbe it’s tyme 4 sum lingonberry soda. that seemz 2 make her happy mosta the tyme. i hope her performance goez bettah than her interview.

  • At 3:10 PM, Anonymous gerald forsythe said…

    Dearest April flower,

    I am confused. I did not fly home from Iceland yesterday. In fact, I have been in Iceland for three weeks straight. I have not had time to read your blog very carefully, so perhaps I have missed mention of this strange fact.

    It would seem that I have a doppelganger.

    Bjorn Thorkillsson is so intrigued by this possibility that we are going to postpone the Surtsey trip so we can investigate this matter.

    However, I have the strong feeling that this confusion will be cleared up with just one phone call...to my brother.

    Devotedly yours, but disturbed, Gerald

    P.S.--You didn't make out with him, did you?!? Oh God!!! Did you go to third base with my brother??? Did you go further?!? Please tell me it isn't true!!!

  • At 6:33 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    that's v. v. weird, ger, sum1 who looked an' sounded just like u hung w/us @ dunc's place and horny t's yesterday, and even gave me a bjork sig. "u" told me u hadta go rite 2 the airport after we left ht's cuz of a redeye flite. don't worry, there was no making out or bases cuz "u" told me "u" were in special "viking" training. ::confused::

    sorry 2 hear abt the radio interview not going well. hope the concert totally rawks!

    paul, the presentation susan wants u 2 do soundz interesting. i'm surprised liz has taken an interest in china like that, but i guess she'z got a lot on her mind @ the mo.


  • At 6:52 PM, Anonymous gerald forsythe said…

    Dearest April flower,

    I believe something terrible has happened.

    After my last message, I called Mater. I of course pretended that I was calling her from soccer camp, which is where she thinks I am. Apparently, my brother has had a sudden growth spurt. Also, she got him that acne cream your mother said is what cured your problem--Ac-No-Mor, or whatever. I can't remember, I am so distressed. Anyway, my brother is now apparently a foot taller than he was before, and acne-free.

    You probably did not know that my brother also knows how to play the drums, as we both learned on the Wee Diddy Doo-Wop Drum Set that Pater got us to share the Christmas I was seven.

    Mater says that she has discovered some of my clothing items in my brother's laundry basket. She scolded him for wearing my clothing, but she didn't seem to realize that there might be a sinister reason for it.

    My luscious little lemon drop, you'd best sit down for this next part.

    I believe my brother, the dastardly fiend, has hatched a nefarious plot. I believe he is impersonating me.

    He has always been jealous of me for being more handsome and more popular. And, of course, he has no friends of his own. He probably decided to "borrow" mine while I was out of town. Maybe he's just having a good time. Maybe he's out for revenge. I don't know if you've noticed this, but my brother doesn't like me very much.

    The trouble is, I don't know how to put an end to this impersonation without getting into trouble. As you know, I am in Iceland on false pretenses. Mater and Pater don't know. Somehow, my brother found out about my deception. I think he's counting on me not wanting to expose myself, in order to get away with his plan.

    The thing is, I'm afraid that if you all let him know that you know what he's up to, that he will tell Mater and Pater what I've done, and my summer of Viking fun will be over. Also, I will probably be grounded forever, and you all will become 4Evah Minus Gerald and His Drums. Which is not a very catchy name. Though you won't have to worry about it fitting on the drum. Because the drum won't be there.

    The only thing I can think to do is have you guys play along, like you don't know what's up. Please, my generous little jonquil, do it for me!

    Devotedly yours, Gerald

    P.S.: Try to kiss him as little as possible, though!

  • At 7:13 PM, Anonymous liz patterson said…

    April, Paul, and others,

    Sometimes I like to sit and think about things, like traveling to Europe, or going and teaching English in Japan. Or China. But don't worry. Those are just thoughts. I get the sense that I am where I am supposed to be, forever and ever (near Milborough). Except when I get to be middle-aged, and start taking yearly "working vacations" to Mexico.

    Sometimes, Mom and I like to get on the telephone and talk about all the places we have thought about traveling. Mom likes to make pretend plans for traveling too. Her fantasy places are China, South America, and Europe.

    Since two of our fantasy places are the same, the other day, Mom and I started making a pretend plan together for China. In that plan, I go there to teach English, and Mom and Dad come with me. We have apartments that are across the street from each other, but I go over for dinner every night to have the authentic Chinese cooking Mom is learning to make. Dad will start a Chinese model train club. Of course we will make all sorts of native Chinese friends and learn their wisdom. I will probably find a troubled little Chinese boy who is mischievous but wise. Mom wants to get some native Chinese friends, and get to know about their ways, then teach them about our ways.

    Paul will have to stay in Ontario because there are no OPP detachments in China, but he gets the weekends off, so it shouldn't be a problem. You will have to stay home with Connie Poirier though. Mom says you are too young to travel anywhere but the farm.

    Of course, it's all pretend! We're not really going anywhere!


  • At 7:26 PM, Blogger duncan anderson said…

    Mike, d00d, ne foob nos u need a new c-ling fan. U can get 1 4 $24.99 here. U r welcome. Now STFU.

    p.s. Stay away from my gf.

  • At 7:27 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    ger, mayB i should tell fake-u/yr bro that i have mono so i can't kiss him.

    liz, that xxplainz y mom had her atlas open 2 the "china" page and was asking me 2 learn how 2 make shrimp chow mein.


  • At 8:07 PM, Anonymous Michael Patterson said…


    Where is the love, “dude”? I wrote you a very nice letter in your defence for your court date earlier this year. I thought it was some of my best writing, even though I was quite surprised no one requested I turn it into a full novella. Fortunately, my magnum opus on the adventures of Sheilagh is like writing spun gold. I have a strange sense that this work will be the work that propels me into from literary genious into literary super genious, and we will finally have the money to buy a home with a yard and trees.

    I do however need to point out that your prognosis of my ceiling fan problems was woefully incorrect. The true source of the difficulty is my downstairs neighbours. Although my delightful Deanna was excited that they have taken to venting their cigar smoke outside with their newly installed window fan, unfortunately that same window fan is obviously shaking the apartment house enough so that our ceiling fan, which was lovingly installed by our own landlady Lovey Saltzman’s husband Morrie, some decades ago, can no longer maintain its stable, horizontal whirring, which used to be one of the highlights of my late night sleeping endeavours.

    As for staying away from your “gf”, I presume this means girl friend and not goldfish, or gap filler, or ground fog. And your girl friend is…? Not to worry, I am a happily married man and the most slatternly of women could not sway from my devotion to my beloved Dee and her low cut, patterned, yellow sleeping attire.

    Michael Patterson

  • At 2:02 AM, Anonymous gerald forsythe said…

    Dearest April flower,

    I do not have much time to post. We are in the helicopter on the way to Surtsey, and I am posting on Bjorn Thorkillsson's Blackberry.

    Maybe you should kiss my brother, but just a little. I am afraid if he gets suspicious, he will turn me in.

    I must go now. Wish me luck.

    Devotedly, Gerald


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