April's Real Blog

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Teeny-Tiny Choo-Choo House Campaign Continues

Yeah, so I guess Dad wasted no time launching in2 his st00pid campaign 2 get Mom on board w/buying the teeny-tiny choo-choo house on the big lot. Becks happened 2 catch them gawking @ it and posted abt it last nite. (Mike, usual disclaimers on indented = quoted):
whoa!

i took the dogs out 4 a walk 2nite which meant i rode freyfaxi while i held on2 zeus an' apollo's leashes. well as i wuz going down the choo-choo house street i saw 2 people just standing an' staring at the choo-choo house! sure enuff, it wuz john an' jelly! apes, this is what they do when u r not home!! they night-stalk old men w/ teeny-tiny choo-choo houses!!!

i crouched down bhind a big shrubby hedge an' told the dogs 2 shush an' i listened 2 what they were saying:

jelly: why are we stopping? john, i'm tired! it's late! why did you drag me out at night! it's hot! why did you make me put on this sweatshirt in the middle of august?! my feet hurt! bugs are biting me! you see, i tell you it's nature's fault that i don't get any exercise, and you never believe me! now you know it's true!

john: look at this little house!

jelly: why? that's george stibbs's place! what's the use in looking at george stibbs's house? john, i'm hungry! i want to go home!

john: i'll take you to the all-night bakery if you'll just listen for a minute.

jelly: i'm all ears!

john: he wants to sell it.

jelly: the bakery is for sale? you know john, you're right, i'm bored with retirement. i'm going to buy--

john: no, not the bakery. george stibbs's house. it's for sale.

jelly: well why would anyone want to buy his house when he's still living in it? there's barely enough room for him, let alone anyone else! look at that thing! it's a crackerbox!

john: no, george stibbs is selling the house and moving out.

jelly: well, that's good, because it's smaller than a crackerbox. it's a matchbox! speaking of matches and crackers, let's go home, light a fire, and make s'mores!

john: in a minute. george stibbs is alone now.

jelly: well, i hope you don't want me to go in there and try to cheer him up. unmarried people are so depressing. i hate being around them.

john: no, he's going to move to be closer to his boys.

jelly: good. then we can get a nice family in here. or maybe just a couple. it's a really small house. it's not even as big as both our crevasses put together!

john: but the house is nice. and it's on three lots!

jelly: too much lawn to mow! that's even worse than vacuuming, it's basically the same thing, except you're outside in the hot weather and the bugs are biting you and you're sweating, just like i am now, and john, i really want to go home!!!

john: would you please just focus, elly? i'll take you home and personally bake you a pan of your mother's chocolate cherry cheese streudel if you will just talk about this house with me for a minute!!

jelly: alright john, you don't have to yell! you're probably waking up poor old widowed miserable george stibbs right now!

john: (sighs)

jelly: what?

john: never mind. now i don't feel like it.

jelly: oh for crying out loud john, just get it over with so i can go home and have streudel! what is it?

john: (mumbles) just think what you could do if you had this property.

jelly: what could i do? huh? come on! tell me! now you have me thinking about streudel! i don't want to wait all night!

john: build a bigger workshop...and buy more trains.

i won't tell u what happened after that. since apes is gone on vay-cay, i m gonna take ovah doing the patterson "drag the story out 4-evah" method of relating events!

'night!

becks
Hey, Becks, I'm not mad abt U kissing on Gerald's Brother (GB). I'm glad Ger's back home an' we can quit pretending we don't know "Ger" isn't Ger, eh! Ger, R U OK? How was Viking camp?

I'm settled in @ the farm and I'll tell U stuff abt it pretty soon, I think.

Apes

10 Comments:

  • At 2:22 PM, Anonymous michael patterson said…

    April,

    Little sis. I don’t think you should be encouraging your “friend” Becky McGuire to spy on our parents for your Blog. You could call mom and ask her about dad’s fixation with George Stibb’s house, if you really wanted to know. Of course, mom would probably want to know things about Aunt Bev and Uncle Danny and our totally smoking, I mean, young and energetic cousin Laura. You’ve been there a few days and still nothing. I am beginning to suspect that you have taken up with a neighbour boy and you got caught and are trying to hide it, by not talking. When I had my summer in Winnipeg and I got caught, I tried to hide the truth, but mom and dad still found out. It is better just to say what happened at the first. That way mom and dad can calm down before you get back.

    In the meantime here in Milborough, dad still continues his strange ways. He called up our house and wanted to talk to my daughter. He asked her what she thought about the Milborough school system. Our daughter is pretty smart and pointed out she plans to finish her "Mom n' Tot" swimming class and then go to Junior Kindergarten, but not in Milborough. Dad said, “We’ll have to see about that.” Then he talked to Deanna to ask if I was a best-selling author yet. Deanna reported, correctly, that I had not finished the first draft of my book yet. Dad said, “We’ll have to see about that.”

    Mom said there are some strange rumours floating around Milborough about the death of George Stibb’s wife, which she did not care to repeat to me, because she doesn’t believe in repeating gossip. I asked my lovely Dee if she knew anything about how George Stibb’s wife died, and she said, “I filled her prescriptions right. I double-checked them. It is not my fault.” I took that as a “No.” If you hear of anything, let me know.

    Also, don’t send your “friend” Becky McGuire to spy on our parents for your Blog anymore. That is not behaviour befitting a Patterson.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 2:41 PM, Anonymous Constable Paul Wright said…

    April,

    Boozhoo (Hello).

    Your sister has told me she arrived safely in Mississauga and she found her suitcase. I also made it back to my home in Otter County safely. I took my friend Susan Dokis, whom I call Chipper, back to Mtigwaki (Land of Trees) on my way back. While I was in Mtigwaki (Land of Trees), before I left, Chipper said to me, “Suds (her nickname for me). Come with me. I have something to show you.” I said, “What is it?” Chipper said, “Just come.” We walked from my relatives' house where Chipper has been staying to another house a little way down the street. Chipper said, “Look at this little house!” I said, “That’s Phil Goulais’ place.” Chipper said, “He wants to sell it. He suddenly realized that he is actually the chief of the Nipssing First Nation, near North Bay, and he would like to be closer to his people. The house is nice-and…it’s on 3 lots! Just think what you could do if you had this property!” I said, “What could I do? I live in Otter County and I am planning to move to Toronto.” Chipper said, “If you don’t get your transfer to Toronto fast enough and your flighty girlfriend decides that fate doesn’t want you together because you didn’t get the transfer before she started cheating on you with her ex-boyfriend and dumps you and you decide you would like to build a bigger life with someone who adores you and appreciates you.” I felt a little dizzy and said, “That’s a pretty big ‘if’.” Chipper said, “Just something to think about while you are driving back to your place in Otter County and talk to your girlfriend who moved 17 hours away from you for a temporary job.” I thought about it, but it seems kind of silly to buy property in Mtigwaki (Land of Trees) when I plan to move to Toronto. It was a nice place though.

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

     
  • At 2:47 PM, Anonymous Shannon Lake said…

    April,

    My mom wants me to tell you that if you get back to Milborough from Winnipeg and your family has sold their house to live in a tiny cracker barrel house, and there is no room for you; you can stay with us. Mom has been hearing stories around town, so she thought you should know. Mom really likes you, ever since you helped me in the card shoppe last year. I would love it if you lived here. You could move in your new furniture. You would have to leave the new paintjob in your room though. Then I wouldn’t have to write to you to talk to you. I could just talk to you. And I wouldn’t have to wait until Becky McGuire did something mean to you, before I did it. It would be great. Is it bad for me to hope your parents sell your house?

    Love,
    Shannon Lake

     
  • At 3:10 PM, Anonymous jeremy jones said…

    april, i wuz walkin’ w/eva last nite, cuz eva sed it wuz a beautiful romantic nite, & i have learned wen girls say thingz like that, u take a walk. we passed by ur mom & dad & ur 2 dogz. ur mom & dad were sweatin’, both wearin’ jackets & a sweater. i sed, “dr. p. yru dressed so warm?” he sed, “we’re goin’ 2 the all-night bakery. april left town & so i knew it wuz the rite tyme 2 show elly my dream house. do u wanna come 2 the bakery w/us?” eva sed, “no thanx.” that wuz prolly a good idea, cuz i know ‘bout ur mom & bakeries. there wudn’t b nething left 4 us 2 eat.

    so eva & i found a nice spot on the grass 2 look @the stars. eva sed it was v.v. romantic & so we started kissin’. but then eva stopped. she sed, “jeremy. sum1’s hidin’ bhind that big shrubby hedge & lookin’ @us.” i got up & ran ovah 2 the big shrubby hedge & i wuz knocked flat on my back & this enormous dog wuz on toppa me & 2 othah dogz barkin’ @me. i recognized the dog immediately. i sed, “rebeccah! get ur dog offa me!” rebeccah sed, “kissin’ eva. i saw u. aftah the tour, i thot u were done w/ her.” eva came up & sed, “get that animal off jeremy or i’m gonna punch u out!” rebeccah sed, “i wud like 2c u try!” then eva sed, “hey! i recognize u now n that hat. u were the girl kissin’ “ger” n horny tims.” rebeccah sed, “so wut if i wuz. he’z a gr8 kisser.” eva sed, “april wuz kissin’ “ger” @our last rehearsal of 4 evah & eva. ur cheatin’ w/april’s fake bf.” rebeccah sed, “no. the real ger showed up & he knowz hiz bro wuz pretendin’ 2b him. he’z n hospital.” eva sed, “u put april’z bf n hospital?” rebeccah sed, “not directly. he wuz n shock frum c-ing hiz naked bro w/me n the hot tub.” eva sed, “u were n the hot tub w/april’s fake bf & he wuz naked?” rebeccah sed, “look. april iz fine w/it. she wuz just kissin’ “ger” cuz the real ger asked her 2.” i sed, “can’t breathe.” rebeccah sed, “get off him freyfaxi.” eva helped me 2 my feet & helped me back 2 my house. my mom took 1 look @me & asked eva wut happed. eva sed, “rebeccah mcguire.” my mom sed, “say no more.”

    2day iz not so bad. i have big paw-print shaped bruises on my chest, but i am gettin’ lotsa tlc frum eva.

     
  • At 4:21 PM, Blogger Luann DeGroot said…

    Say Mike, was Mrs. Kelrast one of your wife's customers also? There have been some rumours around town about her death as well. Hearing about Mrs. Stibbs makes me wonder if there might be a connection between her and Mrs. Kelrast.

    Luann

     
  • At 5:55 PM, Blogger howard said…

    April,

    Marjee Mahaha and I were back to work in Greta "Sugar" Van Rensselaer’s hair salon this morning. The signs were up saying, “Official Hair Stylist for Pop Singing Sensation--Rebeccah”, which were the conditions Sugar had arranged with Thorvald McGuire to allow us to leave the hair salon to work the tour. Sugar said, “It’s so good to see you too again. I have missed you both and the air of love you bring to the salon.” I said, “As I told you before, I am engaged to Marjee’s half-sister, Rebeccah.” Sugar said, “Don’t worry, Howard. We all know it’s an arranged engagement. You can’t keep your love for Marjee a secret.” Ignoring this line of conversation, Marjee said, “I thought you hired a replacement stylist while we are gone. Where is he?” Sugar said, “Oh you mean Jean-François du Pré? He left right after you two got back from your tour. He said he wanted to go back to France to be with his family. It was a little suspicious. The police came by and asked a lot of questions about him. There is nothing like a fat, gay, French biker for doing hair. They ladies loved him.”

    I got back into my usual groove of doing shampoos in a proper facility. It was difficult doing them on the tour bus with the cramped sink there, but Becky found it very relaxing before a show, and of course I had to wash out the glitter she had in her hair from the previous performance.

    The elderly ladies were feeling pretty bad, so the shampoos helped. They said, “Howard. We are going to miss seeing you perform at the Valhalla every night. Now it’s burned down, we seniors don’t have any place to go that is safe for wholesome entertainment. Now we just stick to our building and plant flowers or watch other people plant flowers.” One lady said, “It was teenagers. They were the ones to burn down the Valhalla. They couldn’t stand it that we seniors had a place to go which was safe from them.” I said, “Hello, Mae. It’s good to see you again.” Mae said, “Do you think it was teenagers, Howard?” Not wanting to upset her I said, “I know at least one teenager who wanted to see the Valhalla burn to the ground (thinking of Becky, of course).” Mae said, “I thought so. My husband, Frank, liked having a place where the New Bentwood Rockers could perform whenever they wanted. Now it’s back to playing cards and working gardens and staying as close to our building as possible.” I said, “I thought you like playing cards with Iris and Jim.” Mae said, “Don’t get me started on them.” Another lady said, “Jim Richards is a menace. He’s as bad as any teenager.” I said, “What happened with Jim Richards?” Mae said, “He bought a scooter. Now you can’t walk anywhere without worrying about being hit by Jim Richards. He can’t drive and he runs the scooter so fast, it leaves the ground.” Another old lady said, “It’s not safe.” Mae said, “I tried to tell Iris, if you want to keep getting the good loving from Jim, he needs his exercise and not to ride a scooter. His sex muscles will get flaccid. It made her so mad. She said, ‘Just for that Mae, I am going to edit you out of all my monthly letters.’” I said, “Did she?” Mae said, “How should I know? I don’t read Iris’ mail? I don’t think anyone does. They never do anything anyway. Who would want to read a bunch of stories about old people and their dentures? Not me.”

    Another lady said, “The Valhalla is gone and we can’t walk anywhere without watching out for Jim Richards. The only think to look forward to now is our trips to the dentist.” Mae said, “At least it isn’t as bad as what happened to Georgette Stibbs. Killed by a teenager, I am sure of it.” Another lady said, “No, it was that pharmacist. The same one that killed Aldo Kelrast’s wife.”

    Yet another old lady said, “No. Listen you all have it wrong. It was Dr. John Patterson who killed Georgette Stibbs. I was her neighbour for 20 years. She told that ever since last September, Dr. Patterson has been coming over to her and George’s place. They would be having their morning breakfast and they would see him jog by and stop and stare at their house. Then one day, he knocked on the door and asked if the house was for sale. Well, George told him no, but Dr. Patterson said, ‘If you ever put it up for sale, let me know.’ Then every morning after that, it was the same routine—jog, stop and stare. But then, he started coming by at nighttime. He would stand outside the house and stare for hours at a time. It scared Georgette every time she looked out a window and she would see him there. She sent George out to ask him what he wanted, and George would always come back and say, ‘He wants to buy the place. He likes a small house with a big yard for his miniature trains.’

    This went on for months. So, Georgette went to a realtor and found small houses with big yards that were for sale in Milborough. She took the listings out to Dr. Patterson, but he just ignored them. The yards weren’t big enough or the houses weren’t small enough. Georgette would say to him, ‘But they’re for sale. This house is not for sale.’ It made no difference. Finally Georgette had enough and called the police. The policeman came out, an Officer Brad Luggsworth, and he said for Georgette to stop harassing Dr. Patterson. Imagine that. As if Georgette was the problem. Finally one morning, George came home and found Georgette dead on the floor. ‘Heart attack,’ Dr. McCaulay said. But I know that one morning Georgette must have opened a blind and found Dr. Patterson there and the shock killed her. We know it broke Georges’s heart. He said he should have sold the house to Dr. Patterson when it all started, and he would still have his Georgette. He’s moving now, of course. He’s not stupid enough to believe the same thing wouldn’t happen to him.”

    Mae Thomas said, “Ridiculous. It was teenagers that killed Georgette Stibbs. And they burned down the Valhalla. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if teenagers sold that scooter to Jim Richards.” Another lady said, “You and teenagers. Will you ever give that one a rest, Mae?” Just then, a teenaged girl came into the shop and got into the shampoo line. The conversation completely stopped, which was too bad, because I thought it was very interesting.

    Howard K.

     
  • At 7:22 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    ok, i'm posting this b4 i've read all the other posts cuz mike has totally pissed me off. again.

    mike, i did not ask becky 2 spy on mom an' dad. she happened 2 b out walking the dogz and she saw an' heard our mom an' dad. she sez this all herself. geez, really, it's not so hard 2 understand.

    i was gonna post sum stuff abt winnipeg, but now i m 2 pissed off. it's gonna b teeny-tiny choo-choo house all week. & if my friends find out stuff an' wanna pass it on 2 me, then that's our biz, not yrs, mike!

    apes

     
  • At 7:37 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    shan, that's v. nice of yr mom. oh, and really, i don't know y u won't believe me when i tell u that we can talk even if becks hasn't been mean 2 me. even if becks is super-nice 2 me every day 4 the rest our lives, we can talk, ok?

    jeremy, yikes, that big dog on u! that's sum serious w8! glad u r ok! i don't blame u 4 not wanting 2 go 2 the bakery w/my 'rents.

    howard, wow, what a story u heard abt that lady georgette stibbs. i h8 2 say it, but i don't doubt that it cda happened that way. the heart attack cuz dad startled her, not the teenager thing.

    paul, what a coincidence that paul goulais has a teeny-tiny house on a big yard! @ least susan doesn't wanna use the yard 4 choo-choos, like my freaky dad!

    apes

     
  • At 8:29 PM, Anonymous Michael Patterson said…

    April,

    Little sis. I know you did not ask your “friend” Becky McGuire to spy on mom. Her personality is such that she gladly would do that all by herself. But if you take what she wrote as the truth about mom and dad and use it in your Blog, then you are encouraging her to continue, since she craves attention. Remember what mom always said about Becky, “She wants to be up front, which puts her in the spotlight - where she likes to be.” That’s not so hard to understand, is it?

    You won’t write anything about Winnipeg, so I dropped an e-mail to Aunt Bev to see what she says. Hum! “Tawny and Belle remembered April’s touch, voice and the way she handled them from last summer. April was delighted. Blah Blah Blah. Ticked off Laura with joke comparing her chin to Jay Leno’s. Blah Blah Blah. Visited Steve’s farm and came back muddy and with a few less clothes. Mud probably from Steve’s pigs. Missing underwear different story. Blah Blah Blah. Didn’t pack enough underwear to replace missing clothes. Had to go to into Winnipeg to buy some more. Blah Blah Blah. Saw a surgery at the vet clinic. Turned white, but didn’t faint. Head of Vet clinic said he might be able to get April a scholarship to University of Winnipeg pre-veterinary program. Blah Blah Blah. Performed guitar concert for local people. They didn’t like the song, “Too “@* Loud.” Enjoyed the other numbers, though. Blah Blah Blah. Mike, you have got to stop calling Laura hott. It makes her uncomfortable. Blah Blah Blah. Love Aunt Bev.” Well that was dull. I can understand why you aren’t writing about that. Even mom and dad looking at real estate in the middle of the night is more interesting.

    Love,
    Michael Patterson

     
  • At 8:43 PM, Blogger April Patterson said…

    mike, laura asked u 2 stop sending her creepy im's, whatev that's all abt!

    apes

     

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