Snakes, dogs, Wagner, hail

Wagner was very smart and very musically influential. Even if he believed some nutty things.

Yesterday I walked with Paul in Robert Burnaby Park, a nice long walked that stretched my legs.  We saw a woman who runs a doggie daycare (Canine Corner in North Burnaby) and she had 7 dogs off leash with her (and only the terrier barked, of course, but not at me.  For some reason my ability to interact appropriately with dogs has magically improved over the last year).  We talked to her for a good long while – she also has an elderly orange cat who was a Katrina rescue.  In exchange I told her about Molly. Anyway, if her ability to cope with 7 offleash dogs is any recommendation, I recommend her facility.  She was amazing, and those were very happy dogs.

Then we went into New West and went to the Deli on 6th Ave. next to Galloways which we also shopped at and got food for ourselves and Katie.  Then I found out my bank card was compromised AGAIN and was declined, call bank.

I had cash to pay for the transaction, but I didn’t have any ID, which was naughty of me because as is customary these days, I drove.  I went to the TD Canada Trust on 6th St. expecting to be told to go home and get picture ID, but wanting to know what happened to the card.  Ross said, Tell me about your accounts, which I did, down to the penny in some cases, and then answered a couple more questions, and then bingo – he was getting an override from his supervisor and I had a new card.  Total turnaround 5 minutes.  I was astonished and pleased, and even happier than normal that I bank with TD Canada Trust.

Then Paul and I went to see Katie.  Kashka was the only other roommate home, which meant SNAKES.  Yes, they have a rosy boa (a boy, Speck, finger thin and 18 inches long) and a ball python (a girl, Opal, pushing 5 feet and forearm thick and very large for her age not to mention bloody strong) as well as a mini dobie named Piper, who jumped into my arms as soon as I saw her and a ten week old black kitten named Pan(dora). And dead rats in the freezer.  Opal was traumatized by a live rat once and now she only eats drowned thawed ones.  Anyway, we got them out and handled them, and we took some amusing pictures which I am hoping to coax out of Paul if chance affords so I can repost them (including one of Speck hanging out in my hat).  Speck likes noses, Opal likes to drape herself around necks.  Both have recently shed their skins and have a healthy glossiness that anybody who loves animals would rejoice to see.

Then I went home and tried to write down “Back in the City” and got about two thirds of the way through, I will finish today. It’s done now.

Then, True Blood from last night.

I just leaped up in consequence of hearing hail and got Granny’s chairs off the back deck.  It was 5:52 in the morning when it stopped, and as is normal around here, it was heavy rain mixed with graupel.  There was a bit of lightning too.  Noisy!  It was pinging and spoinging all over the show.

My memory is muddy

When I was living in Montréal with Paul and the kids, I used to watch Homicide.  I found it a quite remarkable show.

I’m watching it again, with Jeff, and if anything it’s even better than the first time around, as I think I am a more observant and trenchant critic.  But it’s sure got me thinking.

One of the episodes was even more powerful than usual, and I had two very strong memories of it.  One is of a scene where the mother of the shooter and the mother of the dead boy end up in the same waiting room.  I remembered a couple of pieces of that conversation accurately.

At the end of the show, I remember Yaphet Kotto as Giardello giving advice to the shooter, who’s about to spend the rest of his life in jail.  I remember them being outside, against a grey building.

It wasn’t Yaphet Kotto – it was Andre Braugher.  They weren’t outside, they were inside.

What I remembered was the emotional intensity.  I remembered a lot of what was said.  I just didn’t remember it accurately.

The older I get, the harder it is to be positive about anything.  I’ve straightened out that little bit of inaccuracy, but now all I can think of is Patricia saying, “Who are you going to believe, me or your lying eyes?”

Partay

My dinner partay started off, amusingly, with me calling Mike around 5 and reminding him that we were set for dinner tonight.

After a very long pause (during which I began to worry about him), he sheepishly admitted that he was hanging out with his new squeeze.  I assured him that it was okay and got off the phone shaking my head and laughing.

Suzanne, Paul, Jeff, Keith and I ate, talked, ate some more, watched Bubba-Hotep (Suzanne hadn’t seen it) and played lots of pinball.  Supper consisted of (why, do you ask, do you always put the food in? because my mother eats extremely boring food so this is kinda food schadenfreude) pork chomps and chicken breasts and corn on the barbecue, plus I bought Portuguese buns and made three-cheese buns on the cue.  Recipe follows.  Suzanne brought puréed squash with cinnamon, squash gems (bacon and squash rolled in corn flakes) AND home made carrot cake with scratch made cream cheese icing.  I made a macédoine of vegetables (zucchini, broccoli, lima beans, green beens, carrots and onions, all fresh except the lima beans).

Cheese melts. I took the left over feta, which I had soaked in water rather than brine so it was much less salty, medium cheedar and parmesan, and mixed that all up, then added pepper, basil, parsley and garlic powder, then stuffed the buns, then wrapped each individually and tossed them on the cue.  Keith turned up when there were two left and then devoured them with an eagerness that was truly remarkable.  I know I made the damned things to be eaten; I wasn’t expecting to watch them disappear like soap bubbles.

Speaking of truly remarkable: KEITH DIDN’T GO HOME.  He appeared at my bedroom door, remarked that he had just put down the game controller for Arkham Asylum, and that he’d like breakfast. I told him to help himself to the leftover waffles. (I make waffles pretty much every Saturday morning with the waffle iron Jeff inherited from Granny.)  So he didn’t sleep over, but he didn’t go home.

Anyway, Paul brought the corn, which was yummy, and two pies which we didn’t even touch because the carrot cake was SO amazing (superlative, actually, maybe best ever) so I feel like I hardly had to cook at all. We had much enjoyment of each other – everybody very mellow and low key and comfy.  Suzanne drinks very sparingly, but I thought I would tempt her by picking up some Baja Rosa yesterday, and she had one small glass on the rocks, on the back deck while perusing Jeff’s copy of the Joy of Cooking for yet more squash recipes (her friends keep giving them to her).

From all this is should be obvious that I had a good time.  I think everybody else did too.

apropos of nothing

Kenny Wayne Shepherd’s acoustic version of Blue on Black.

I was sitting in the driveway of a friend’s house rolling the dial up and down when I caught the first few bars of the guitar, and then sat mesmerized while I listened.  It took me almost ten years to figure out who it was singing it; the song’s been out since 1997.  It’s on a kick ass rock and blues album called Trouble Is…