Boring reminiscences again

Apparently, one of the movies that Mom brought 2 Gramps was abt a married couple where the guy left the woman after they'd been married more than 30 yrs. Mom got really emotional during the movie, cuz it was set up so U really sympathize w/the woman and feel like the husband leaving came totally out of the blue.

After the movie, it seems that Mom told Gramps that the whole sitch had her remembering sumthing that happened on August 24, 1980. Gramps tried 2 pretend he was sleeping, but it didn't work and Mom told him NEway. She remembered looking @ this weird clock she used 2 have, which was shaped like an apple that had been cut in half, so the clock face was on the white part of the apple. It didn't have all the numbers, just 9, 3, and 6, w/dots showing where the other numbers shd go.

Mom recalled that when she looked @ the clock, it was 7:00 PM. She remembered also looking @ her watch 2 corrobor8 the time, while holding little Lizzie and saying, "John's over an hour late! --Where cd he B?" Then she remembers putting Lizzie in her yellow high chair and pacing so hard she actually caused the word "PACE" 2 appear in the air 2x. Meanwhile, she remembers that she, Liz, and Mike were in a backgroundless void that was orange, and Mike seemed only 2 have a torso, while Liz and her high chair both seemed 2 abruptly end where Liz's knees were. As this happened, Mom thought, "Maybe he's had an accident. --He cd B in a ditch sumwhere ....seriously hurt!!"

She also remembered saying, "Where R U, John? I cdn't LIVE w/out U!" But then she remembers the backgroundless void turning Dayglo green as she thought, "Or.. What if he drove sum1 home. --A luscious young thing, perhaps... And what if he went in 4 a drink! --And if..."

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Dad SLAMming the door shut and going, "Hi, honey, I'm home!" while the backgroundless void went back 2 orange. A moment later, the orange gave way 2 white, as Mom shouted at him in white letters on a yellow background, "WHERE THE HECK HAVE YOU BEEN!" While her face turned red.

After Mom finished that story, apparently Gramps went, "Boxcar! Boring! 1980!" And Mom got in2 a tiff abt him being grouchy and 1980 being a "fun" year 2 talk abt.

Apes

Michael and Moral Relativism

Uch, mayB if we R v. v. good, we will get in2 present-day stories this coming week, eh? Meanwhile, Mike has more 2 share from the boring past:

April,

Formerly little sis. I was in the middle of my writing today, when my children came into my sacred writing area of retreat and asked me a question. Normally, if they do this and they are not obviously bleeding, I ignore them until they go away. However, on this occasion they were asking a question of moral importance, so I decided it was important to stop my writing to listen to their question. I said, “What is your question again?” My daughter said, “For the 10th time Daddy, Gramma Elly took a case of food out of the back of Mr. Singh’s store and she didn’t pay for it. Isn’t that wrong?”

I said, “I want you to know that you can’t go taking food from someone’s store—it’s very wrong. However, in the case of Mr. Singh’s store, there are few good reasons why we can take from there. First of all, we’ve taken food from Mr. Singh’s store before.” My kids said, “We did?” And then I regaled my kids with the story about your taking food from Mr. Singh when you were younger and how you eventually paid him back, so it was all right you took the food in the first place. I would say more about this story, but it did not happen in 1979.

I said, “Second of all, there are many people who are going to make contributions to your Auntie Elizabeth and future Uncle Anthony’s wedding. What you saw was probably your Gramma Elly taking food for the wedding.”

Then I continued, “In fact, children, I have a story from 1979 when I learned all about this.” My children groaned, and this is the story I told them:

Once when I was little, we had a neighbour named Mrs. Baird. She had a garden of prize-winning flowers. One day when my mom, your Gramma Elly, was not feeling good, I picked some of the flowers to give to her to make her feel better. She said, “Flowers! –Thank you, Michael!—Where did you find them?” I said, “Well, I sort of …er…got them from Mrs. Baird’s place.” I think mom thought I might have gotten them from some public park or a botanical garden or something like that. She said to me, “You can’t go taking flowers from people’s gardens, Honey---It’s very wrong. You must NEVER do it again! But if you do---try and leave on the stem.” I said to my kids, "Do you understand the meaning behind my story from 1979?"

My son said, “Don’t eat stem!” My daughter said, “It’s OK to steal!! Yay!!” I said, “No! No! No! Mrs. Baird had given us flowers before for me to give to Gramma Elly when she wasn’t feeling good. That’s why Gramma Elly knew it was OK for me to do it again.” My daughter said, “You left that part out.” I said, “Goodness. Read between the lines.” My daughter said, “OK. Gramma Elly got pastries for Auntie Liz’s wedding. Yay!!” My son went “Yay! Pastries!!” also.

Sometimes it can be difficult to tell morality stories to young children.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Esp. when the stories lack morality!

Jeremy, I got yr txt message and I can def. help U and yr mom 2day. What time do U want me 2 come over?

Apes

Cleaning rooms and pouring milk in 1979

Mike found another reason 2 share a story from 1979:

April,

Formerly little sis. Just the other day with my kids, I was pouring milk from a milk bag, when they asked me how it was that I learned to do that. Well, April, after having told my children so many stories from 1979, I was surprised that they would actually ask for one. I said, “Well, kids, to answer your question, I will have to tell you another story from 1979.” My children groaned, but allowed me to go ahead. This is the story I told:

Back in 1979, our mother was notorious for cleaning my room and Elizabeth’s room, because she was very fastidious and she didn’t trust anyone else to clean the rooms like she wanted them to be cleaned. By and large we stayed out of her way when she was in a cleaning mood. She would pick up my Super Teddy sans cape, and would mutter to herself “If women resent their position, they have only themselves to blame.”

My children immediately said, “What does that mean Daddy?” I said, “Well kids, back in 1979, there were these things called feminists. They would like to say things which got women confused, like whether or not it was better to have a job or to be a mommy to be both. What it means is that if you didn’t want to be a mommy or a worker or both of those things; then you didn’t have to. And if you were a mommy or a worker or both of those things, and you didn’t want to be, it was your own fault, because you picked it in the first place.” My daughter said, “Did you pick to be a daddy, ‘cause mommy says you didn’t?” I replied, “Mommy’s right. But these things only apply to girls. Boys have to be both a worker and a daddy.”

I continued on, “Then my mother would sometimes mutter, ‘If men were only taught as boys to do things for themselves…this problem wouldn’t exist…’” My son said, “Huh?” I said, “Exactly! This was confusing to me too, when I was 5 years old. But then an amazing thing happened to me that made it all clear.” My children said, “What?” I said, “I went to my mother and said, ‘Hey, mom…could you get me a glass of milk?” and she said, “Sure, Mike…as soon as I get your room cleaned up.” This was basically the same thing as saying, “No”. I thought it might mean that she wanted me to clean my room; but she was in a cleaning mood, so I knew it meant for me to get out of the way and get the milk myself.

I had never gotten milk by myself, because I was afraid of the milk bags. I had been my entire life, all 5 years of it. But then, thanks to my mom, I was going to have to get a glass of milk by myself. This is how you do it:” and I demonstrated with a milk bag, a milk jug and a pair of scissors.

Step 1: Put milk bag into the milk jug.
Step 2: Snip the corner of the bag by holding the very corner and using scissors
Step 3: Pour the milk into the glass.
Step 4: Drink milk.

My kids were amazed. I said, “And that, children, is how to do that, learned all by myself; because mom was busy cleaning my room.”

Love,
Michael Patterson

So, Mike, did U ever learn 2 clean yr own room, or did U just let that B Dee's job once U got married?

Happy 4th of July 2 my U.S.A. readers!

Apes

Gross food in the past

Poor Merrie and Robin. Mike used 1979/80 Patterson "food" 2 teach his kids sum kind of cruel lesson:

April,

Formerly little sis. Just the other day, I heard my children complain about how they were constantly subjected to carrots as a part of their daily diet. They whined, they complained, they caterwauled and made all kinds of obscene gestures in my direction. All I could do was laugh and laugh, because I knew that, if they experienced the kinds of meals to which I was subjected in my youth, they would embrace carrots joyfully.

So, I told them, “Kids. I have heard your complaints about carrot coins, and I have decided that you should have a meal I had when I was growing up.” My children said, “Gramma Elly food?” And I said, “Even better. Gramma Elly food she used to make back in 1979.” My children moaned, “No! Not another flashback!” But, of course, I couldn’t make the meal from 1979, without telling my story from 1979. This is the story I told, as I made them their meal of liver and spinach.

I said, “One day I was eating and making noises like this: CHEW GULP! Gobble CHOMP Glut!” My children laughed and said, “Just like Gramma Elly!” I said, “Not only was I slurping and drooling, but my cheeks were stuffed with food and my drink was all over the table.” My children said, “Hooray! Gramma Elly food!!” I said, “Not only that but my drink spill moved on the table, my food moved on my plate, and plate kept changing sizes.” My children said, “Yay!! Gramma Elly food that moves!”

Then I said, “My mother, your Gramma Elly, came over to me and said, ‘Where are your manners, Michael! You’re eating like a pig!! Now SLOW DOWN!’” My children said, “Where were your manners?” I said, “They were right there. I was eating in the style that all Pattersons eat, except for your Auntie April who likes to pretend she is better than we are. And you will note I used an exclamation point instead of a question mark, so you would know it was a rhetorical question. Gramma Elly asks a lot of those.” My children said, “Huh?” I said, “Questions you are not supposed to try to answer.” My children said, “Oh! Those!” My daughter said, “So Gramma Elly said you were eating like a pig and you should slow down.” I said, “That’s right. We Pattersons may be gross and disgusting slobs when it comes to eating; but we do not eat quickly like pigs do.” My son said, “Eat slow and slobber.” I said, “That’s right son. Eat slow and slobber. That’s the Patterson way.”

My daughter said, “So why did you eat fast?” I said, “You will find out with this meal I am making you, the very meal my mother served me that day.” I sat the meal of liver and spinach down before them. They looked hungrily at it, since no part of portion of it looked orange or carroty. As they started eating, they slobbered, they guzzled and they got faster and faster. I said to them, “My explanation to my mother for my speed you should know by now. ‘But it’s liver and spinach, Ma!...If I slow down, I’ll TASTE it!!’” My children began to realize with horror in their eyes the truth of my statement. They wolfed down their meals in rapid succession and immediately ran to the washroom where I heard the harsh sounds of wisdom issuing from their young throats and stomachs.

I said to them, “I trust there is no problem with carrot coins tomorrow, eh?” My children said, “No, Dad.” Lesson learned.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Ick. Cdn't U have just told them, instead of getting them 2 eat that slop? 'Course I really don't understand Y they (and U) wd react by eating it fast, instead of just refusing 2 eat it. Like most kids!

Jeremy, U R rite abt the socks. I wondered Y my shoes didn't feel rite. I'll return yr socks 2 U when we get 2thether this evening, eh?

Apes

The cement of yesteryear

Mike has sum more sharing 2 do abt a long time ago:

April,

Formerly little sis. We were talking at the Canada Day celebration about how you were still waiting for Dad to finish out your basement space to live, and it occurred to me that Dad did, at one time, actually build things around the house which were not related to model trains. One time in particular I remember was when he decided to put in a concrete sidewalk. I had asked him to help out, but was told I was too little. Needless to say, when I saw what Dad had done with the concrete, it cried out for a little artistry. Even then I had to feed my muse.

My muse on that day was hungry for a few good footprints and handprints and the letter “M” for “Muse” in different sizes. Admittedly it was an early attempt of art; but anything would have been better than the flat boring concrete sidewalk Dad had put in. I left my work unsigned so Dad would have to figure out exactly which budding artist in the neighbourhood had so coolly decorated it.

He stared at it for awhile with his trowel in hand and his other hand in his hair, pondering the mysteries of art. Dad was not stupid though. He figured out I was the artist, and grabbed me by his right arm, which for some strange reason had a left hand on it that day. Dad was also wearing cowboy chaps, which still does not make sense to me. But the most disturbing part to me was that he had discovered the identity of the artist and was not pleased by my artistic improvements. As I was being grabbed, I said, “How did you know it was ME?” In retrospect, I should have asked for constructive artistic criticism.

I have since learned that I have a certain style, a certain “je ne sais quoi” that colours the timbre of my work, making it clear when something comes from the artistic stylings of Michael Patterson. But back then, it was a mystery to me.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Mike, I asked Dad abt yr story. He sed, "Oh, yes, I remember that. Yr brother was such a scamp! I figured that those 'M's' stood for 'Mike' and also that that was just xxactly the kind of thing Mike wd do. It didn't take a detective!" I sed, "It wasn't his artistic stylings that tipped U off?" Dad laffed and sed, "I C U've gotten Michael's version of events. Ha-ha-ha! 'Artistic stylings'! W8'll I tell the model-train club abt this!" And he wandered off.

Jeremy, that was so much fun @ the Canada Day celebration last nite! It's a shame what happed 2 Ger. Do U think we shd visit him @ the hospital this evening?

Apes

Mike's Burps and Braacks a Long Time Ago

Did U know Mike's been burping for decades? Did U care? I thought not, but we R still on flashbacks, and Mike is on2 burps from days of yore:

April,

Formerly little sis. Just the other day I thought I was alone and after drinking a particularly bubbly glass of pop, I decided to see if I could still burp the way I used to when I was 5. I must say, that even in my 30s, I still have it. However, my wife, the lovely Deanna, felt the need to track me down and inform me that I was not to make those disgusting noises, in case I set a bad example for my children. It reminded me of a very similar incident from when I was 5.

I was wearing a Hawaii shirt, and I had just clipped the fingernail of my right thumb so it was especially square. Then I drank from my Fizzo Pop can a good drink of carbonated delight. With my tongue out, as if I were laughing, I said, “Burp..Burp…Burp! {A triple lead-in.} BRAAACK!” complete with drops and bubbles. It was quite stupendous. Mom came up to me and said, “Michael! You are not to make those disgusting noises!”

Then she took my pop can from me and said, “I don’t want to hear that again…do you understand?” Down and dejected, I went to pick dandelions with Lawrence Poirier, and lie in the grass and look deep into his eyes and discuss my troubles as 5-year-olds are wont to do. I said to Lawrence, “Gosh, Lawrence—How can a guy get good at something if they don’t let you practice?”

It was a younger and more innocent age, and of course I know the answer to that question now that I am older. The answer is university and beer. That is where I honed my burping skills. I can recommend it to you. I certainly hope you will develop that as a skill instead of doing as Elizabeth did in university, where she tended toward developing the skill for getting hangovers.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Mike, I think the burps and hangovers both seem unappealing. I'll come up w/my own stuff 2 do during uni.

Patrickrsghost, sorry abt that scary experience U had c-ing yr friend's grandma.

Apes

Strange, Disturbing Musings from My Bro

I M sorry 2 have 2 tell U this, but it looks like we R not dun w/those flashbacks we were in all of this past wk. We may B in 4 a whole 2nd week! Here's what Mike had 2 say in a comment last nite:

April,

Formerly little sis. Just the other day, I had wondered why it is that Josef Weeder is my best friend instead of Lawrence Poirier, since Lawrence and I grew up together. It's not the reason that everyone suspects, i.e. Lawrence picked Nicholas Browne over me. (I get very tired of explaining that this is not the reason.) Actually, it started at a very early age.

I remember one time when I was sitting on my front stoop outdoors with Lawrence. I was very distressed over something that had happened with my mother. I said, "All I have to do is LOOK at my mom and she gets mad!" I thought this sterling description was sufficient to get Lawrence's sympathy. After all, his mother was Connie Poirier, and who wants to look at her seven shades of ugly? But no! Lawrence didn't believe me. He said, "Honest, Mike? You were just lookin' at her?" I was shocked that Lawrence did not trust me. I think this was the first time I realized that Lawrence and I would not agree on everything, like Josef and I do.

So, to better describe my case to Lawrence, I added, "Yeah. She was in the bath at the time." I thought this would put it over with Lawrence, but instead he looked at me and started mumbling something about how he would do whatever it took to avoid seeing Elly Patterson naked."

When I told the same story to Josef Weeder, his response was very different from Lawrence's. He talked about how he often snuck into his mother's washroom when she was taking a bath, to look at her. That's one of the things about Josef and me. Our experiences are so similar, I often feel like we are the same person broken apart only by our different choices in career.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Uh.... Yeah. Mike an' Weed. Peas in a pod. I think I need 2 change the subject, eh?

So, I start my job @ the vet clinic 2day. Weird, it seems 2 me my job will B a lot like one I had when I was eight, @ an animal shelter. Check what I wrote in my monthly letter back in March of 2000:

The[y] paid me 10 dollars at the animal shelter for cleaning out cages but I didn't want to get paid so me and Alex (another kid who comes with me) went and bought treats for the animals.

We have 3 dogs, 2 puppies and lots of kittens (in the adoption part) and there's about 6 pets who are lost and waiting for their owners. One is really sad and they don't have collars or identification things. Dr. Gillan who is the vet thinks people aren't looking for them. So I don't know what will happen. We play with them a bit, but we don't take them out because they are too big, so some volunteers from the highschool help out too. I like working at the animal shelter!

Only this time, I'm totally gonna let them pay me. I need the $$$!

Apes

Mike has a random story from the past

Sadly, we R still in reminiscing. This time, Mike has a story 4 U, which he posted l8 last nite:

April,

Formerly little sis. Just the other day, as I caught my son trying to eat the telephone, I was reminded of a story of my past when I was just a little older than he was and I had to deal with the telephone. I said, “Son, I remember when I was just a little older than you are and I had to deal with the telephone.” In preparation for my story, his eyes took on an absent look, waiting for a reminiscence of great meaning to fill his young, small brain. This is the story I told:

I was lying on the floor, playing with Legos, as I usually did with my right hand bearing a strong resemblance to the letter Q and wearing those special pants mom made for me where she mismeasured the inseam so the crotch was about at my knee. I loved those pants. They were great whenever I wanted to play a merman. I loved the mermen. They always had naked chests and they never wore sea shells like the mermaids did.

On this occasion, I heard the sound “RRINGG!” Naturally I knew this was the phone and not the front door. I picked it up and said, “Hello?” I remember this was especially difficult, because my right arm had chosen that particular time to mutate my wrist and arm to look a little like a fried chicken leg. Little Lizzie must have thought the same thing because she headed toward me with hunger in her eyes. Let me tell you there is nothing worse than having a fried chicken leg-shaped arm, being gnawed on by a nearly toothless, younger sister. I had to deflect her assault somehow. The person on the other end of the line said, “May I speak to Elly Patterson?” I said, “No, she’s outside right now.—Wanna talk to my baby sister?” Then I handed the phone to Lizzie and the attack was deflected. Mission accomplished.

Lizzie took the phone out of my hand and with her massive, muscular, beefy arms; and said very clearly, “Glah? Da-da-da? COOKIE! Num-num!” I remember well thinking that this might be one of the most articulate moments of her life, and that has proven to be the case. However, the person on the other end of the phone didn’t think so, and he yelled out “*!!{Saturn}@*” at Lizzie. Lizzie was taken aback by the geometric shapes and took her head away from the phone receiver. I took this opportunity to take the phone back from Lizzie. She was upset when I did this and grabbed at the wire on the phone and turned red in the face. Interestingly enough, she did not start screaming until later, so I was able to speak again to the person on the other line. I had hoped to learn more geometric symbols; but the man became strangely quiet, and said he wanted to talk to mom again. I said, “Yeah? You still want wanna talk to her? OK--”

This was the tricky part. Mom had told me not to leave Lizzie alone; but the man on the phone wanted to speak to Mom. How could I get Mom and still not leave Lizzie alone? Brilliantly smart as I was, the answer soon came to me. I held the phone away from my mouth, and yelled, “MAAH” as loud as I could, in order to get her attention from the outside. As I put the phone receiver to my head to tell the man I had called for Mom, I was surprised by a few things:

1. I heard a “CLICK” sound which either meant the man hung up or he had started to speak Xhosa, that African language that uses clicking sounds to talk.
2. I suddenly realized that the phone receiver was bigger than my head.
3. I suddenly realized that the sleeves on my shirt were no longer the same length.

Mom heard my cry and came in with sweat upon her brow, and gardening gloves and a gardening trowel in her hands. I held the phone up to her with both hands in supplication and said, “It’s for you.” I was afraid of what would happen when she discovered the man on the other end of the phone had hung up. Fortunately, Mom is not nearly as accurate with a gardening trowel as she is with a coffee cup.

That was the lesson my son learned from me that day. Sure enough it worked. No longer does he try to the eat the phone. But he has developed a certain predilection for garden trowels.

Love,

Michael Patterson

I guess that was supposta B a lesson in how not 2 answer the fone, eh?

Well, l8 yesterday, the squat got raided! Zenia is convinced that "the guy w/the phallic nose and ridiculous ponytail across the street dropped the dime on us." Cd B. Weed is awfully worried abt property values. NEway, I called Jeremy from the jail and his Mom was so cube abt bailing me out. Dunc insisted on staying cuz "street cred," Eva refused 2 leave his side, and Zenia sed she had 2 stay cuz of her secret "exposé" she's writing.

So, I M back @ Jeremy's and he's trying 2 talk me outta being further involved in what Dunc's got going in TO.

Apes

Jungles vs. Zoos in the Distant Past

OK, prolly the last day of this run of flashbacks we've been in. Sumthing abt little Mike making animal noises 2 entertain baby Nizzie, and Dad coming home saying, "Whew! What a day... Elly, it's a jungle out there." And Mike making more of his animal noises. And Mom saying, "I'll trade U 4 the zoo in here." Whatevs.

So, still in TO. Eva and I have been trying 2 get Dunc 2 leave the squat where he's been staying w/Zenia and various squatters, across the st from Weed & Carleen's place. Duncan's been claiming Zenia needs his help, but Zenia was saying she was up 2 sumthing "top secret." All mysterioso-like. Zandra tried 2 warn him not 2 get sucked in2 one of her schemes, but he's not listening. Just this morning, I overheard Zenia whispering urgently abt how she's in grave danger cuz [name removed @ Zenia's insistence] wants 2 have her killed. She "knows 2 much." Including sumthing abt what [he] looks like naked. ::shudder::

Apes

Surviving

The flashback I'm ignoring 2day actually picks up from yesterday's. Mom had sent Mike up 2 his room w/out supper and then was considering bringing him up sum supper. Dad told her she can't go back on her word like that, and besides, he'd survive a nite w/out supper, and Mom sed that mayB she wdn't. But obvs. she did. And apparently she was having a "thin" day.

Speaking of surviving, Eva and I R still @ the squat where Dunc's been staying. I can't say that I'd wanna live this way all the time, but w/Jeremy away this wk, @ least it's keeping me occupied. I just saw Mike show up @ Weed's place when I was looking out the window this morning. MayB Mike will write in this wkend and say what he's doing there so early on a weekday.

Apes

Day 4 of "Who Cares"

So the flashback I M currently ignoring has sumthing 2 do w/Mom sending Mike 2 his room 4 being rude, and then regretting that she threatened 2 send him there. Zzzzzzzz.

Duncan showed Eva and me how 2 squeegee and we did pretty well w/the money. I was surprised, but Dunc sed, "Yeah, the girls always do better." Zenia claims she's got sum "top-secret assignment" she can't xxplain until after the fact. We ran in2 Zandra @ a Horny T's, and she was like, "Duncan, don't tell me U've been sucked in by another one of Zenia's stories." And Dunc was all, "U don't understand." She kind of gave up, muttering that he has 2 find out the hard way all over again.

Apes

Wasting time in 30-second bits

It seems U R supposed 2 spend 30 seconds caring abt young Mike getting Mom to give him and her friends cookies, so she ends up gazing out the window at them (since they messily eat their cookies rite outside the window) and thinking, "If U don't want pigeons... Don't start feeding them." U R prolly even supposed 2 notice that she actually has a smile on her face while thinking that, instead of being all pissed off or gobsmacked.

But Y wd U do that? No1 cares abt these random glimpses in2 the past, eh? Esp. if we dole out our stories 30 secs @ a time. Whatevs, I M still in Toronto w/Eva and Duncan. We R trying 2 convince Dunc 2 leave that squat where he's staying, across the st from Weed and Carleen. He sez he can't leave Zenia rite now, cuz she's going thru a really hard time. She cdn't stay in residence @ UT over the summer, and all her usual prospects for summer lodging fell thru. And a bunch of other drama.

Apes

U Can Haz Flashbacks

But U prolly don't want 'em. Me, neither. I won't bother U w/the icky story abt Mom finding young Mike's used-gum horde on his bed post, but not his sooper-seekrit used-gum stash on his dresser. Yuck.

Eva and I found Duncan in TO. He's in a squat that's across the street from Mike's old building, which Weed now owns, in that mysterious neighbourhood that's not Rosewood or the Beaches. Oddly, Zenia's staying in the squat, 2. There's a story, there, but I haven't gotten it yet cuz the squatters had a big panic thinking there was abt 2 B a raid. Turned out instead that Weed was trying 2 cook eggs and set off the smoke alarm. Apparently, he installed xxtra-loud ones.

Apes

Edit: Yesterday was my three-year bloggoversary, and I 4got all abt it cuz of the flashback boredom. Whee!

And we're back 2 flashbacks

As predicted, Mom reminiscing 2 Connie abt young Mike making her tired has led 2 flashbacks again. From the 1979-80 era. 2day's is supposta B abt knocking on Mom and Dad's bedroom door, crashing it open, and then saying, "U SAID 2 knock 1st," but U know what? Who cares? I'm not doing these flashbacks! >:-(

Duncan took all of his xxams last wk like he was supposed 2, but then he got all nervous an' scared abt how he did, and he ran off 2 TO 2 B a squeegie boy again. Eva and I R going out there 2 try & find him. Jeremy's away this week @ sum kinda scout thing he's doing 4 community-svc credits.

Apes

Happy Father's Day

I thought it wd B nice 2 celebr8 Dad's Day by taking Dad out 4 a nice brunch, but Mom sed, "The best gift U can give a parent is 2 go sumwhere else all day so the parent can B home alone and pretend to be single and childless." I thot that sounded kinda sad and cynical, but when I told Dad what Mom had sed, his eyes lit up and sed, "Oh, yes, please, let's do that!" Then he sed that it reminded him of sumthing that happened on June 22, 1980, when he had the house 2 himself.

"It all started w/me lying in bed and thinking, 'Aaah...an entire bed 2 myself... nobody telling me not 2 hog the blankets.' Then I picked up the digital clock from the nightstand, noticed that it was 8:45 AM, and I thought, 'Amazing..No kids landing on my belly at the crack of dawn!' Later, I took a bubble bath, which turned my rite leg red, and I thought, 'I can spend hrs in the bathroom... No lineups... No frantic banging @ the door...' While tossing the towel after drying myself, I thought, 'Nobody 2 tell me 2 pick up my towel...' As I got dressed (in a plaid shirt, zigzag-patterned lavender pants, and neon-green socks, I thought, 'The freedom 2 wear NEthing I choose...' While eating a peanut butter sandwich over the open jar with the knife sticking out of it, I thought, '2 eat what I want 2 eat...' Watching Morrie Mouse on TV while lounging w/my feet on the coffee table, drinking a beer, I thought, '2 do whatever I want 2 do!' Then I thought, 'SIGH .. I hope Elly and the kids R home soon.'"

I went, "Wow, Dad, R U sure U wd rather do that than have a nice brunch?" And Dad sed, "R U kidding? And miss wearing making a mess, wearing ugly clothes, and watching bad TV, all by myself?" And Mom sed, "Told U so." NEway, I'll B @ the mall until dinner time.

Apes

More jumping around in the boring past

OK, this time go 2 this group of pics and look @ the ones on the bottom of the page (3rd sequence). Where Dad yells @ Mom that she can't take all day, and then tells Mr. Shadbolt that the yelling is OK cuz he's only yelling @ his wife. Connie and Mom were jumping all over the place w/their reminiscing, eh?

Bleah.

Thanx 4 the luv, Anon. :)

Apes

They jumped around in their boring reminiscing

My second link from yesterday's post? Go 2 the 1st group of pics on that page. Seems Mom an' Connie discussed those old events out of order.

Apes

Let's get this over with

Yeah, so Mom and Connie did launch in2 boring reminiscing abt Mom helping out Dad back in 1980. 2 save U sum time, I decided 2 dig in2 Mom's annotated foto albums, and I found the one marked "Dental pictures, 1980." You can see 'em here and here. 4 sum reason, Mom and Connie jumped rite ahead 2 talking abt the 2nd group of pics in that 2nd sequence I linked. I dunno if that means they wrapped up w/the story abt Mom and Dad heading home afterwards, w/Dad asking Mom what's 4 supper, or if they skipped around. In NE event, the 2 links I gave U oughta cover the whole flashback. I'll post again when we're all dun w/that, cuz really I M sick of this flashback shizz.

Muzition, in answer 2 yr question, I dunno if my Dad will ever fully retire.

Apes

Batten yr hatches--signs pt 2 flashbacks

Oh, no. The next story I have 2 tell U bears all the signs of being the set-up 4 more FLASHBACKS. Why? Why, why, why?!?!?!?!

Well, this is what I hear happened. My mom and Connie, also @ the mall, but away from me and Eva, walked 2gether as Mom was all, "I'm glad U felt like going out 2nite Connie. John's away and I didn't feel like spending the evening alone." Connie sed, "NEtime!" Then, as they approached the coffee stand @ the mall food court, Connie went, "He's still going 2 dental conventions? --I thought he was semi-retired!" And Mom sed, "He is. But he likes 2 keep up." What a stupid xxchange. Of course if he's not 100% retired, Dad shd "keep up." Wd U want 2 go 2 a "semi-retired" dentist who's NOT up 2 d8? Connie, I guess, hasn't had enuf gratuitous reminiscing, so sed this: "I remember when he 1st started his practice and U worked as his assistant!" Mom sent, "He didn't have the money 2 hire one!" Then Mom and Connie walked away from the stand w/their coffees, and Mom added, "...We were living hand-to-mouth." Har-dee-har. NOT.

This is stupid. If Mom then went in2 flashbacks from 1979-80 abt working as Dad's dental assistant, that won't B from when he started his practice and cdn't afford an assistant. It'll B from when Jean Baker was on vacation and Mom subbed 4 her 4 a while.

Apes

Mike was a horrid little kid

Well, it's Sunday, and U know what that means. Totally random topic change. This time we have more from Mike's sordid past, w/this message Mike posted l8 last nite:

April,

Formerly little sis. After spending time with my mother and her dogs, my children were pestering me about getting birds for a new pet, since they have grown tired of their rabbit and the rabbit has learned how to hide where my kids can't find it. However, I had to refuse them. When they asked why, I said to them, "After I tell you this story, you will completely understand why." My children groaned and moaned about it, but eventually they relented by listening to my story. This is what it was:

Years ago, I and my friend Lawrence Poirier used to spend hours together outside, playing in the grass with no shoes on. On one of these days, I decided to make a bird trap. Lawrence was confused by this and I said, "Whatsa matter? You never seen a bird trap, before?”

I explained, “To make a good bird trap, Lawrence…ya start with a lasso and then ya disguise it with dirt…” and as I was saying this, I took the lasso I had made and started uprooting dirt from the ground to cover the lasso. This way, instead of looking like a lasso on the ground, it looked like an intoxicated mole had been in the area. This was a common problem in Milborough and so the birds would find it completely normal.

Then I said, “For bait, you get a bunch of ol’ bread crumbs an’ a couple a defunct worms…” I pointed to the bait I had gotten from mom’s kitchen when she made bread that time, and a couple of worms ate it and almost immediately died. As I was showing this part of the presentation, Lawrence’s eyes got very big. I think it had something to do with the fact that my mom had given his mom some of that bread.

I got on the other side of that lasso, holding it in my hand, and hiding behind a tree. I said, “—Now we just wait.” Lawrence on the other side of the tree, also hiding out, and he said, “Do we have to wait long?” Already his patience has been waning and we just started.

We waited and waited and waited and waited, until the sun started to go down and put shadows on the other side of the tree where we were waiting. Lawrence said, “We’ve been waitin’—an’ waiting an’ waiting, Michael…when are we gonna catch something?” My initial thought was to let Lawrence know it had been 4 waits and not the 3 he mentioned. Clearly he missed a wait. However, I decided not to respond.

It grew dark and still I waited. Lawrence started to fall asleep. Then his mother got him and said, “Lawrence Poirier. Where have you been?” Then Lawrence told his mom about the bird trap. She said, “Why would you ever want to trap a wild bird in a bird trap?” Lawrence didn’t have a good answer for that one. His mom took him home, leaving me alone with the bird trap.

It grew even darker, and finally I cried out to the birds, DUMB BIRDS!” to express my angst over the whole situation. And that, I said to my children, is why we will not be getting any birds for pets.

After hearing my plaintive story of my past with birds, my kids said, “Where’s mommy?” And they went off to talk to her about something.

These kids today don’t have the stamina that Lawrence and I did.

Love,
Michael Patterson

Aw, Mike. What a mean, brutal kid U were. What xxactly were U planning 2 do w/the poor bird once U caught it, NEway?

The only thing I agree with is that yr kids shd not get a bird, or NE other pet 4 that matter. But not cuz of NEthing in yr sad, sick story. If they R "tired of" Buttsy, then getting another pet is the last thing they shd B allowed 2 do. Animals are not playthings 2 B put away when U're bored w/them. They R living beings that need love, attention, and affection. And of course food, water, and a clean, safe, environment.

Apes