Bengal cats will remove about $600 from your wallet if you buy a decent one from a breeder, and fine bloodline cats go for way, way more than that. I first became acquainted with them about 7 years ago at a cat show, and I decided that if I was ever made out of money I’d get one. For intelligence, beauty and temperament, they really can’t be beat. Here’s a video that shows just how laid back and smart one can be…
For 200 bucks you can instantly have a bigger family.
Every Tuesday in the summer one of the upper rooms at the Jericho Sailing Club turns into a Celtic jamfest with one of the highest quality open stages in history (and I’m not saying that because I was there last night). Here’s the link…
Anyway, Linda Allen played her deceptively simple folk tunes, most of which could be Unitarian hymns, such are the sentiments expressed. She writes labour friendly songs, too, which made me wish Dr Filk could be there, as well as a certain co-worker who once worked for a certain aircraft company in Washington state. There was a song about the two feminists who lobbied to get women the vote in Washington state as well, which was perfectly charming and which she performed for Christine Gregoire (current governator of WA).
I performed Buy me a Beer and Wish That I Knew Why. Rick Keating is coming by next week and I represented for Lady Miss Banjola when I innocently remarked “Trouble come by here?” to which Lynn responded with feeling, “Oh trouble will be right in this room,” which made me smirk.
At one point Linda needed a music stand, so I flounced up to the front and became “Allegra, the amazing human music stand,” to the appreciation of the performer and the amusement of the crowd. Linda then sang a song that was irresistably funny, so I had to Zen out and try to keep my shoulders from shaking with suppressed laughter.
Later in the show she had another song that she needed her music for so I reprised my role, this time taking the weight of her music book on my knees which made life a lot easier, and it was a much sadder song, so staying steady wasn’t so hard. I was moved to tears half a dozen times last night. Those looking for mad guitar skills or a strong voice are encouraged to go see another performer though. I’m glad I sat up front.
It took me almost two hours to get there by bus from SFU, and I took the wrong bus as it turns out so I did a LOT of walking. So I was very happy to get my hands on Raven Cream Ale on tap – a brew I was introduced to me by LTGW at the Brickhouse earlier this year. The weather on the deck was glorious and I watched kids and dogs and boats and sunset with a feeling of layered contentment. And a very civilized woman named Jane gave me a lift to Burrard Station, which meant I got home at midnight instead of one.
Reminds me of a joke for which the punch line is, “I dunno, but the Pope’s his chauffeur!”