Maria: Tomorrow is the Christmas play at Gloria's house. Annais is going to be an angel.
A-L: What?? She played the starring role two years ago. She was baby Jesus. Did her and Gloria fall out?
Maria: I think she's too big to fit in the cradle. And the baby Jesus couldn't talk, or make jokes. No one likes a wise-cracking Savior.
A-L: I don't remember Gloria using a cradle. I think Annais was wrapped in swaddling clothes in a laundry basket. A plastic one. And why has she been downgraded to an angel?
Maria: That's sacrilegious. That's hardly downgrading. The angels were a very important part of the whole scenario.
A-L: Speaking of sacrilegious, you can't refer to the Nativity as a 'scenario', can you?
Maria: And since Aila's kindergarten is closed for Christmas vacation, she'll be making a guest appearance in the scenario.
A-L: As what, Jesus's Mexican cousin?? Is she serving tamales?
Monday, December 22, 2008
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
Happy Birthday Ted
Ted with his family in September. Today he is 34. Four years in Edinburgh. One of the best flatmates I've ever had.
Monday, October 27, 2008
Reportez Vous from Paris
This past weekend some of the Publishing Ladies gathered in Paris.
A-L: Dawn, I don't speak French because my high school French teacher was from Oxnard and not Lyon, so I need your help communicating with everyone.
Dawn: Where's Oxnard? That sounds dreadful.
A-L: Don't ask. Just help me translate this menu. Por favor.
Dawn: That's Spanish.
A-L: I like to call it Mexican French. What's confit?
Dawn: Uh, it translates as confit.
A-L: Here's one. What's terrine in English?
Dawn: Terrine is usually an hors d'œuvre.
A-L: A what? Have you heard that George Bush said the French don't have a word for entrepreneur?
Jess: Barack Obama started that rumour.
Gemma: Speaking of Barack Obama, my mum loves quilting.
Guillaume (Dawn's beau*): What is quilting?
Dawn (in French): blah blah le blah blah la blah blah patchwork.
Guillaume: Ah, patchwork, I see.
Turns out the French don't have a word for patchwork.
*French for beau.
A-L: Dawn, I don't speak French because my high school French teacher was from Oxnard and not Lyon, so I need your help communicating with everyone.
Dawn: Where's Oxnard? That sounds dreadful.
A-L: Don't ask. Just help me translate this menu. Por favor.
Dawn: That's Spanish.
A-L: I like to call it Mexican French. What's confit?
Dawn: Uh, it translates as confit.
A-L: Here's one. What's terrine in English?
Dawn: Terrine is usually an hors d'œuvre.
A-L: A what? Have you heard that George Bush said the French don't have a word for entrepreneur?
Jess: Barack Obama started that rumour.
Gemma: Speaking of Barack Obama, my mum loves quilting.
Guillaume (Dawn's beau*): What is quilting?
Dawn (in French): blah blah le blah blah la blah blah patchwork.
Guillaume: Ah, patchwork, I see.
Turns out the French don't have a word for patchwork.
*French for beau.
Monday, September 22, 2008
That Yellow Orb in the Sky
Irma: I have the cutest story to tell you.
A-L: What has Pete said now?? He's always saying the darndest things.
Irma: No, this time it's Aila. Sister Maria and Grandbrother Hector went to a parent-teacher conference last week. And Mrs. Bread-Crumpet reported to them that she had been explaining the planets and stars to the class, when Aila said "but you know, the sun is mostly hydrogen."
A-L: You're right. That's the cutest thing I've ever heard. I can't wait to tell everyone who has internet access. I'll start by e-mailing GW. He's always game for a good niece story.
--
A-L: Hi GW, see above for the latest cute niece story.
GW: Everyone knows that Hydrogen only accounts for approximately 74% of the sun's surface by mass. The remainder is accounted for by Helium. She may have been referring to Hydrogen by volume, I guess.
A-L: She did say mostly Hydrogen.
A-L: What has Pete said now?? He's always saying the darndest things.
Irma: No, this time it's Aila. Sister Maria and Grandbrother Hector went to a parent-teacher conference last week. And Mrs. Bread-Crumpet reported to them that she had been explaining the planets and stars to the class, when Aila said "but you know, the sun is mostly hydrogen."
A-L: You're right. That's the cutest thing I've ever heard. I can't wait to tell everyone who has internet access. I'll start by e-mailing GW. He's always game for a good niece story.
--
A-L: Hi GW, see above for the latest cute niece story.
GW: Everyone knows that Hydrogen only accounts for approximately 74% of the sun's surface by mass. The remainder is accounted for by Helium. She may have been referring to Hydrogen by volume, I guess.
A-L: She did say mostly Hydrogen.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Crumb-pets
A-L: Hi Maria, how's Kindergarten?
Sister Maria: I'm not in Kindergarten any more.
A-L: You know our lives and conversations now revolve around the two little people you made. How's Aila doing?
Sister Maria: She's well. She loves Kindergarten, and her teacher, Mrs. Crump.
A-L: Do you mean Mrs. Bread-Crumb?
Sister Maria: You heard me, I said Mrs. CrumP.
A-L: Who's Mrs. Crump? Does she have two teachers? This isn't one of those new-fangled job-sharing situations, is it? You're not sending her to a Presbyterian kindergarten, are you? What happened to Mrs. Crumb. Did she leave?
Sister Maria: Turns out her teacher's name is Crump. Like Crum-pet.
A-L: Not as fun as Bread-Crumb, but we'll work with it.
Sister Maria: I'm not in Kindergarten any more.
A-L: You know our lives and conversations now revolve around the two little people you made. How's Aila doing?
Sister Maria: She's well. She loves Kindergarten, and her teacher, Mrs. Crump.
A-L: Do you mean Mrs. Bread-Crumb?
Sister Maria: You heard me, I said Mrs. CrumP.
A-L: Who's Mrs. Crump? Does she have two teachers? This isn't one of those new-fangled job-sharing situations, is it? You're not sending her to a Presbyterian kindergarten, are you? What happened to Mrs. Crumb. Did she leave?
Sister Maria: Turns out her teacher's name is Crump. Like Crum-pet.
A-L: Not as fun as Bread-Crumb, but we'll work with it.
Sunday, September 07, 2008
Happy Early Birthday
Emma, I'm so sad you're (sic) birthday's not until March, because I found this: 
from http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/.
from http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com/.
Saturday, September 06, 2008
Report from Kindergarten
A-L: Hi, tell me all about Kindergarten.
Sister Maria: Why are you spelling it like we're speaking German? And I'll pass you over to Aila, so she can give you the full report.
A-L: Hi Aila. Tell me everything. How was your first week of Kindergarten?
Aila: Hi. Good. Do you want to talk to my sister?
A-L: I already spoke to Annais. At length. She told me she's wearing a brown dress, and she wants to come visit me, but it's too far away. We've run out of things to say to each other. How was Kindergarten?
Aila: Good. I'm in the quail group and there are roadrunners.
A-L: I guess at Kindergarten in Scotland the groups would be grouse and haggis, maybe. What's your teacher's name?
Aila: Mrs. Crum(b)(p)
A-L: Mrs. Crump?
Aila: No! Mrs. Crumb.
A-L: Oh, Crumb, like bread crumb.
Aila (laughing): Yeah.
A-L: So what does Mrs. Bread-Crumb teach? What did you do all day?
Aila: We had morning snack, and then lunch, and then afternoon snack. And then we learned about earthquakes. When Mrs. Crumb says 'bunny in the hole' we have to get under the desk and cover our heads so we don't bump them. I love you. Bye.
Sister Maria: Hi. Did you get the full report?
A-L: Totally. And I look forward to people Googling 'quail', 'roadrunners' and 'earthquakes', and winding up reading Aila's modern-day, Southern California Kindergarten tale.
Sister Maria: Why are you spelling it like we're speaking German? And I'll pass you over to Aila, so she can give you the full report.
A-L: Hi Aila. Tell me everything. How was your first week of Kindergarten?
Aila: Hi. Good. Do you want to talk to my sister?
A-L: I already spoke to Annais. At length. She told me she's wearing a brown dress, and she wants to come visit me, but it's too far away. We've run out of things to say to each other. How was Kindergarten?
Aila: Good. I'm in the quail group and there are roadrunners.
A-L: I guess at Kindergarten in Scotland the groups would be grouse and haggis, maybe. What's your teacher's name?
Aila: Mrs. Crum(b)(p)
A-L: Mrs. Crump?
Aila: No! Mrs. Crumb.
A-L: Oh, Crumb, like bread crumb.
Aila (laughing): Yeah.
A-L: So what does Mrs. Bread-Crumb teach? What did you do all day?
Aila: We had morning snack, and then lunch, and then afternoon snack. And then we learned about earthquakes. When Mrs. Crumb says 'bunny in the hole' we have to get under the desk and cover our heads so we don't bump them. I love you. Bye.
Sister Maria: Hi. Did you get the full report?
A-L: Totally. And I look forward to people Googling 'quail', 'roadrunners' and 'earthquakes', and winding up reading Aila's modern-day, Southern California Kindergarten tale.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Product Launch
Annais: Mommy, I'm hungry.
Sister Maria: What would you like to eat?
Annais: A Gorilla bar.
Sister Maria: What would you like to eat?
Annais: A Gorilla bar.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
True Story
Pete: Hello, this is Pete.
A-L: Hi Pete. How was the County Fair? Tell me everything. Did Aila and Annais have fun? What did they say? They're so cute. Tell me all the funny things they said.
Pete: Yes, they had a good time.
A-L: What did you see at the Fair? What did Aila and Annais say?
Pete (soundingly faintly annoyed): Oh, we had a great time. We saw the animals, and went down the big slide.
A-L: What animals? Did you see all the art projects? Did they ride the ponies? Were there baby chicks there? And bunnies? What did they say??
Pete: Oh, they loved the animals. They saw the cows and goats and pigs.
A-L: What did they say?
Pete: Oink, oink.
A-L: Hi Pete. How was the County Fair? Tell me everything. Did Aila and Annais have fun? What did they say? They're so cute. Tell me all the funny things they said.
Pete: Yes, they had a good time.
A-L: What did you see at the Fair? What did Aila and Annais say?
Pete (soundingly faintly annoyed): Oh, we had a great time. We saw the animals, and went down the big slide.
A-L: What animals? Did you see all the art projects? Did they ride the ponies? Were there baby chicks there? And bunnies? What did they say??
Pete: Oh, they loved the animals. They saw the cows and goats and pigs.
A-L: What did they say?
Pete: Oink, oink.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
L. Ron Gemma
When Publishing students* go to the London Book Fair...
Gemma: Why is no one speaking to us?
Norette: Uh, probably because we're not offering them thousands for a manuscript, or placing a large order for books, maybe.
Gemma: No, that's not it.
Lady-willing-to-talk-to-students-at-the-London-Book-Fair: Hello, do you have a minute? I'd like to invite you to a reading.
Gemma: Great. Will Paul Auster be there?
LWTTTSATLBF: It'll be a reading from Dianetics by L. Ron Hubbard.
Gemma to Norette: Is that the guy from Happy Days?
Norette: Um, no.
LWTTTSATLBF: The reading's this evening.
Gemma: Will the author be there?
LWTTTSATLBF: No, he died in 1986.
Gemma: Oh, so he'll be there in spirit.
Gemma: Why is no one speaking to us?
Norette: Uh, probably because we're not offering them thousands for a manuscript, or placing a large order for books, maybe.
Gemma: No, that's not it.
Lady-willing-to-talk-to-students-at-the-London-Book-Fair: Hello, do you have a minute? I'd like to invite you to a reading.
Gemma: Great. Will Paul Auster be there?
LWTTTSATLBF: It'll be a reading from Dianetics by L. Ron Hubbard.
Gemma to Norette: Is that the guy from Happy Days?
Norette: Um, no.
LWTTTSATLBF: The reading's this evening.
Gemma: Will the author be there?
LWTTTSATLBF: No, he died in 1986.
Gemma: Oh, so he'll be there in spirit.
*now known as "the Publishing Ladies"
Bus Trip
On a recent bus trip from Edinburgh to Inverness, Ellie, Gemma and I were seated near some Austrians. Here's how the conversation went:
A-L: Where are you going?
Austrian 1: We are going to Inverness on a houseboating trip.
A-L: Great. The six of us will have a great time.
Austrian 2: Uh...
Gemma to me: Someone stole his sense of humour.
A-L: I lived in Austria for ten months, so now I'm going to speak at you in broken German alternating with English in a German/Austrian accent.
Austrian 2: Uh...
A-L: Let's talk about Austria. What's happening there?
And then I was possessed by an evil troll who made me ask: How's Josef Fritzl?
Austrian 1: Uh.
A-L: Sorry, I don't know what evil troll possessed me to ask that.
Austrian 1: Oh, that's ok, he's the most famous Austrian.
A-L: Uh, not really. Julie Andrews is the most famous Austrian.
A-L: Where are you going?
Austrian 1: We are going to Inverness on a houseboating trip.
A-L: Great. The six of us will have a great time.
Austrian 2: Uh...
Gemma to me: Someone stole his sense of humour.
A-L: I lived in Austria for ten months, so now I'm going to speak at you in broken German alternating with English in a German/Austrian accent.
Austrian 2: Uh...
A-L: Let's talk about Austria. What's happening there?
And then I was possessed by an evil troll who made me ask: How's Josef Fritzl?
Austrian 1: Uh.
A-L: Sorry, I don't know what evil troll possessed me to ask that.
Austrian 1: Oh, that's ok, he's the most famous Austrian.
A-L: Uh, not really. Julie Andrews is the most famous Austrian.
Monday, August 04, 2008
Saturday, August 02, 2008
The Ted & Kitty Show
Let's face it folks, this blog is nothing more than a vehicle for Ted & Kitty to promote themselves. They've had a free ride for long enough. So, I'm splitting up the act. This December, after three and half years in the same flat, Ted and Kitty are parting ways. Kitty is moving to the States. To the west coast. For a while. Further information forthcoming. Kitty's invited me to join her, and we're flying out to L.A. on December 19th.
So, if you've never seen the comedy stylings of Ted & Kitty live, you have four and half months to do so. Shows daily, except Sundays.
So, if you've never seen the comedy stylings of Ted & Kitty live, you have four and half months to do so. Shows daily, except Sundays.
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Chu Lia
And like a gift from heaven, temporary Chinese flatmate Julia (probably not her real name) has been dropped into my life. I returned to Edinburgh yesterday from my trip to the surface of the sun (Coachella) to find the living room strewn with personal effects. Kitty was curled up on a tourist map of the Highlands, reading a Chinese/English dictionary. She glared at me, snapped her fingers, and Julia appeared. Julia wears mismatched pajamas all day. Except when she goes outside. In an attempt to be hospitable, I’ve been wearing pajamas since I returned. I’ve made the jetlag rookie move of sleeping when you’re tired, ie: all day. I woke up today at 6 p.m., just in time for Julia to cook me a delicious stir fry breakfast. She tells me she’s not a very good cook, and back home in China her family only lets her do the dishes. I let her do both. She makes a mean garlic, ham, cabbage stir fry. It went really well with my morning coffee. And just when I was wondering if Julia would be of any use to me, she told me she’d like to go to France, and visit Disneyland Paris. “I want to dance with Mickey Mouse.”
Unfortunately Julia’s leaving on Tuesday.
Unfortunately Julia’s leaving on Tuesday.
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Menu Planning
Sister Maria: We're bbq-ing for Fourth of July right?
Grandbrother Hector: Yes, I was thinking we could get some hot dogs and grill some chicken.
Sister Maria: Can we get those really good Frankfurters?
G’bro Hector: Um no. What’s wrong with you? I’m not cooking German sausage on Fourth of July. You can save that for your D-Day bbq.
Grandbrother Hector: Yes, I was thinking we could get some hot dogs and grill some chicken.
Sister Maria: Can we get those really good Frankfurters?
G’bro Hector: Um no. What’s wrong with you? I’m not cooking German sausage on Fourth of July. You can save that for your D-Day bbq.
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Good News/Bad News
Sara, Brad, I have good news and bad news. The good news is there are some nice photos from the wedding. The bad news is that this is the best one: 
$1 to the writer of the best caption.
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Sweetness to the One-Millionth Power
Sunday morning, E-A-R-L-Y...
Annais: A-L, I am so happy to see you.
And then I melted...
Annais: A-L, I am so happy to see you.
And then I melted...
Monday, June 16, 2008
Ninety, Two Hundred Ten
Just so I can have *more* Polish people in my life, I tutor Jacek in English once a week. This evening one of the stories in his workbook mentioned Beverly Hills.
Jacek: You know Beverly Hills Ninety, Two-Hundred-Ten?
A-L: Of course I do.
I think it's near Melrose Plaice
Jacek: You know Beverly Hills Ninety, Two-Hundred-Ten?
A-L: Of course I do.
I think it's near Melrose Plaice
Monday, June 02, 2008
Elusive Niece
Telephone Conversation with Annais:
A-L: Hi Annais.
Annais: Hi A-L. What's your phone number?
A-L: I'll give you my mobile number. But remember you have to dial +011 and then the country code, and you drop the zero. What's your phone number?
Annais: 1-2-3-4
A-L: Hi Annais.
Annais: Hi A-L. What's your phone number?
A-L: I'll give you my mobile number. But remember you have to dial +011 and then the country code, and you drop the zero. What's your phone number?
Annais: 1-2-3-4
Sunday, March 30, 2008
Ted at the Health Club
Ted was home in Poland for two and half weeks, and arrived back in Edinburgh on Friday. Which means there are now 55 kilos of Polish sausage in our refrigerator. "Pig", he keeps telling me. I think he means "pork".
So on Saturday morning I asked Ted if he wanted to go with me to my gym, as a guest, so he could soak in the jacuzzi.
Ted: Jacuzzi? Fantastic.
A-L: I'll take that as a yes.
Ted: 15 minutes.
And then he has a conference with Justyna behind closed doors. And comes back to me and says, "maybe problem." So I summon him back to Justyna's room so she can translate and help me understand what the "maybe problem" is.
Turns out he's nervous about the situation because he's never been to a gym. So I explain to Justyna the order of operations, and she translates. He seems happy with the explanation.
Ted: 15 minutes. Ok?
A-L: Let's go now.
Ted: Shave first.
A-L: You can shave at the gym.
Ted disappears into the bathroom, for ages. Ages. And then I hear the shower start.
A-L: What is he doing? He can take a shower at the gym, AFTER we go in the jacuzzi.
Justyna: Is this my first speaking part on your blog?
A-L: It'll be your last if you don't stick to the script. Why is he showering?
Justyna: It's a basic principle - you shower and get ready before you leave the house, no matter where you are going.
So Ted finally is ready: collared shirt, suede jacket, nice trousers. We arrive at the gym, which is accessed by a swipe card, and ascend the dark steel staircase. It's a bit like going into a secret lair, if you're Ted. He indicates he's nervous, by showing his heart is pounding. So we check in, and get towels. And then, it takes me 15, maybe 17, minutes to explain that he has to change in the men's locker room, which you enter by a door from the workout area, and then exit down to the pool through another door and an internal hallway.
Hallway, internal, access, and second are all words Ted doesn't know. And then he seems confused about where he's supposed to change. Uh oh.
Ted: Where get dressed?
A-L: In the men's locker room, Ted. Not on the treadmill. Or in the internal hallway.
Ted: Key?
A-L: There's a token that you have to insert in the coin slot, which releases the key. I'm going to change. I'll see you in the jacuzzi.
So I'm in the jacuzzi long enough to make friends with a couple from London, and Ted still isn't down at the pool area. I explain to them why I keep looking towards the entrance, and how I'm a little worried that I've lost a Pole in the bowels of Escape Health Club. And then Ted swans down the stairs, with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist.
Uh oh. It's not that kind of jacuzzi party. This isn't Dave and Caroline's.
I look alarmed. Ted looks and me and my new best friends, and says "oh". He looks sheepish. He does an about face, and heads back towards the stairs. And then he takes his towel off to reveal: the shorts I leant him to wear in the jacuzzi.
We jacuzzied, swam, saunaed, lounged on the lounge chairs. All went well. On the walk home Ted said "jacuzzi first time, 33 years old."
So on Saturday morning I asked Ted if he wanted to go with me to my gym, as a guest, so he could soak in the jacuzzi.
Ted: Jacuzzi? Fantastic.
A-L: I'll take that as a yes.
Ted: 15 minutes.
And then he has a conference with Justyna behind closed doors. And comes back to me and says, "maybe problem." So I summon him back to Justyna's room so she can translate and help me understand what the "maybe problem" is.
Turns out he's nervous about the situation because he's never been to a gym. So I explain to Justyna the order of operations, and she translates. He seems happy with the explanation.
Ted: 15 minutes. Ok?
A-L: Let's go now.
Ted: Shave first.
A-L: You can shave at the gym.
Ted disappears into the bathroom, for ages. Ages. And then I hear the shower start.
A-L: What is he doing? He can take a shower at the gym, AFTER we go in the jacuzzi.
Justyna: Is this my first speaking part on your blog?
A-L: It'll be your last if you don't stick to the script. Why is he showering?
Justyna: It's a basic principle - you shower and get ready before you leave the house, no matter where you are going.
So Ted finally is ready: collared shirt, suede jacket, nice trousers. We arrive at the gym, which is accessed by a swipe card, and ascend the dark steel staircase. It's a bit like going into a secret lair, if you're Ted. He indicates he's nervous, by showing his heart is pounding. So we check in, and get towels. And then, it takes me 15, maybe 17, minutes to explain that he has to change in the men's locker room, which you enter by a door from the workout area, and then exit down to the pool through another door and an internal hallway.
Hallway, internal, access, and second are all words Ted doesn't know. And then he seems confused about where he's supposed to change. Uh oh.
Ted: Where get dressed?
A-L: In the men's locker room, Ted. Not on the treadmill. Or in the internal hallway.
Ted: Key?
A-L: There's a token that you have to insert in the coin slot, which releases the key. I'm going to change. I'll see you in the jacuzzi.
So I'm in the jacuzzi long enough to make friends with a couple from London, and Ted still isn't down at the pool area. I explain to them why I keep looking towards the entrance, and how I'm a little worried that I've lost a Pole in the bowels of Escape Health Club. And then Ted swans down the stairs, with a towel wrapped tightly around his waist.
Uh oh. It's not that kind of jacuzzi party. This isn't Dave and Caroline's.
I look alarmed. Ted looks and me and my new best friends, and says "oh". He looks sheepish. He does an about face, and heads back towards the stairs. And then he takes his towel off to reveal: the shorts I leant him to wear in the jacuzzi.
We jacuzzied, swam, saunaed, lounged on the lounge chairs. All went well. On the walk home Ted said "jacuzzi first time, 33 years old."
Monday, March 24, 2008
Caroline & Dave's Baby
Welcome Anneke, aka "Big Dutch Baby".
And it seems the mother's contact with coyote urine while pregnant means Anneke won't pee in the yard, or the pool.
And it seems the mother's contact with coyote urine while pregnant means Anneke won't pee in the yard, or the pool.
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Report from Coachella
Below is a report from Sister Maria. She's disguised here as 'Mommy'.
Last night I was putting Aila and Annais to bed, and the following conversation took place:
Aila: Mommy, I will love you forever. I will love Daddy forever too.
Mommy: We will love you forever & ever too!
Aila: But when I grow up I’m going to have to go away, and I’ll miss you so much.
Mommy: You can stay with us for as long as you like!
Annais: Yeah, I have to go away when I’m big too.
Mommy: Please stay a little bit longer.
Annais: No, I have to go. I’ll miss you.
Mommy: Where are you going to go?
~ long pause ~
Annais: I’m going to go to Costco.
Last night I was putting Aila and Annais to bed, and the following conversation took place:
Aila: Mommy, I will love you forever. I will love Daddy forever too.
Mommy: We will love you forever & ever too!
Aila: But when I grow up I’m going to have to go away, and I’ll miss you so much.
Mommy: You can stay with us for as long as you like!
Annais: Yeah, I have to go away when I’m big too.
Mommy: Please stay a little bit longer.
Annais: No, I have to go. I’ll miss you.
Mommy: Where are you going to go?
~ long pause ~
Annais: I’m going to go to Costco.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Near Cat-astrophe
Let me set the scene for you. That's what I'm here for.
Saturday. Ted arrives back at the flat from the nightshift around 9:30 a.m. Kitty has a vet appointment at 10:20 a.m. (Why she made a Saturday morning appointment is beyond me.)
Getting Kitty to Dundas Veterinary (a 3-minute walk from the flat) means capturing Kitty, placing her in vet-supplied cardboard box with air holes, and closing the super-complicated lid. This requires twelve hands.
A-L: Ted, please help me. Kitty needs to go to the doctor.
No answer.
A-L: Ted, can you help me?
Ted: Keys. Where are keys?
A-L: Nevermind the keys. I have keys. Please help me place this flailing cat into the flimsy cardboard box (with air holes), and close the super complicated lid 'system'.
Ted is waaaay too laid back at first, and is AMAZED at how Kitty can squeeze herself out through the teeniest of tiniest spaces, many times over.
Five minutes later, and Kitty is contained. And mewing. Not meowing.
A-L: Let's go.
Ted grabs the cat in a box. I close the front door. And then shake my handbag to confirm that I have keys. This is the incorrect order of operations.
No keys. Ted, Kitty and I are now locked out of the flat. Justyna is gone hillwalking for the day. Super. Can we sit in the pub all day, with a mewing cat in a box? Ted's just back from a nightshift, and presumably doesn't want to take cat in a box on a walking tour of Edinburgh, although it is a lovely day. Friend and expert cat-sitter, Gordon, has a set of keys but is still in Morocco, I think.
So we ignore the problem at hand, and walk to the vet's office.
Vet: Oh, she's beautiful. (As Kitty pretends to be normal and loving, and allows Ted to pet her head as the vet takes her heartbeat.)
A-L: Can you tell if she's autistic or passive-aggressive by her heartbeat?
Vet: She's so affectionate.
A-L: Yes, she's always like this. Around trained professionals. Did you find a heartbeat? Because I'm convinced she's a robot of some sort.
Vet: Look at that sweet face.
A-L: That's a hologram.
Vet: She has beautiful teeth. Usually by this age they're covered in tartar.
A-L: Ted brushes them, with Justyna's toothbrush.
Vet: Well, she's very healthy. I can tell she's loved and cared for.
A-L: Yeah, that's why we brought her here in a box. Do you happen to have keys to our flat?
Vet: See you next time. Bye Kitty.
Turns out Gordon was back from Morocco, so Ted, cat in a box, and I got back in. But if he had still been away, this could have been a *really* interesting story. Justyna and Guiseppe didn't get home until 11 p.m.
Kitty now has her own set of keys.
Saturday. Ted arrives back at the flat from the nightshift around 9:30 a.m. Kitty has a vet appointment at 10:20 a.m. (Why she made a Saturday morning appointment is beyond me.)
Getting Kitty to Dundas Veterinary (a 3-minute walk from the flat) means capturing Kitty, placing her in vet-supplied cardboard box with air holes, and closing the super-complicated lid. This requires twelve hands.
A-L: Ted, please help me. Kitty needs to go to the doctor.
No answer.
A-L: Ted, can you help me?
Ted: Keys. Where are keys?
A-L: Nevermind the keys. I have keys. Please help me place this flailing cat into the flimsy cardboard box (with air holes), and close the super complicated lid 'system'.
Ted is waaaay too laid back at first, and is AMAZED at how Kitty can squeeze herself out through the teeniest of tiniest spaces, many times over.
Five minutes later, and Kitty is contained. And mewing. Not meowing.
A-L: Let's go.
Ted grabs the cat in a box. I close the front door. And then shake my handbag to confirm that I have keys. This is the incorrect order of operations.
No keys. Ted, Kitty and I are now locked out of the flat. Justyna is gone hillwalking for the day. Super. Can we sit in the pub all day, with a mewing cat in a box? Ted's just back from a nightshift, and presumably doesn't want to take cat in a box on a walking tour of Edinburgh, although it is a lovely day. Friend and expert cat-sitter, Gordon, has a set of keys but is still in Morocco, I think.
So we ignore the problem at hand, and walk to the vet's office.
Vet: Oh, she's beautiful. (As Kitty pretends to be normal and loving, and allows Ted to pet her head as the vet takes her heartbeat.)
A-L: Can you tell if she's autistic or passive-aggressive by her heartbeat?
Vet: She's so affectionate.
A-L: Yes, she's always like this. Around trained professionals. Did you find a heartbeat? Because I'm convinced she's a robot of some sort.
Vet: Look at that sweet face.
A-L: That's a hologram.
Vet: She has beautiful teeth. Usually by this age they're covered in tartar.
A-L: Ted brushes them, with Justyna's toothbrush.
Vet: Well, she's very healthy. I can tell she's loved and cared for.
A-L: Yeah, that's why we brought her here in a box. Do you happen to have keys to our flat?
Vet: See you next time. Bye Kitty.
Turns out Gordon was back from Morocco, so Ted, cat in a box, and I got back in. But if he had still been away, this could have been a *really* interesting story. Justyna and Guiseppe didn't get home until 11 p.m.
Kitty now has her own set of keys.
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Country Roads
Last Saturday Ted and I were homesick, so I introduced him to an old friend: John Denver. We played the Greatest Hits album. We turned the stereo waaaay up. Waaay too loud for a Saturday at 11 a.m. Ted loved it.
How is it that John Denver's music can speak to/resonate with a 33-year-old Polish man living in Scotland? And then I recalled something my friend Brad said a couple months ago, "Poland is the West Virginia of Europe." Ah, of course.
I haven't told Ted yet that John Denver is no longer with us.
How is it that John Denver's music can speak to/resonate with a 33-year-old Polish man living in Scotland? And then I recalled something my friend Brad said a couple months ago, "Poland is the West Virginia of Europe." Ah, of course.
I haven't told Ted yet that John Denver is no longer with us.
Sunday, January 13, 2008
The Raccoon Whisperer
Caroline: The raccoons have started tagging the back yard fence, and Dave found a dead possum in the pool.
A-L: Are these two events connected?
Caroline: Classic raccoon mob tactics.
A-L: Why get a possum involved?
Caroline: It's a ruse.
A-L: What are they trying to do? Claim the backyard with the pool, hot tub and BBQ as their own? Are they trying to drive you out? Could it be that they're attracted by the coyote urine?
Caroline: As far as I'm aware raccoons and coyotes are not natural allies in the wild.
A-L: Maybe the raccoons are daredevils, and they're looking for a fight. They obviously have no mercy. They've sacrificed a possum. Is Dave going to clean the pool? And wouldn't coyote urine attract coyotes?
stay tuned...
A-L: Are these two events connected?
Caroline: Classic raccoon mob tactics.
A-L: Why get a possum involved?
Caroline: It's a ruse.
A-L: What are they trying to do? Claim the backyard with the pool, hot tub and BBQ as their own? Are they trying to drive you out? Could it be that they're attracted by the coyote urine?
Caroline: As far as I'm aware raccoons and coyotes are not natural allies in the wild.
A-L: Maybe the raccoons are daredevils, and they're looking for a fight. They obviously have no mercy. They've sacrificed a possum. Is Dave going to clean the pool? And wouldn't coyote urine attract coyotes?
stay tuned...
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
The Cat Whisperer
Via Messenger (actual transcript):
A-L: Hi Caroline. How are you? How's pregnant married life?
Caroline: Great. We hired a cat therapist.
A-L: Because the cats threw up on your cat self-help book Think Like a Cat?
Caroline: No, there was a whole lotta cat pee goin' on. In the house. So we paid for a telephone consultation with a cat therapist. Turns out coyote urine (available from G.I. Joes.) does the trick.
A-L: Wow. I couldn't make this stuff up.
Caroline: At first we thought it was just Cujo peeing everywhere, but then, while we were on the phone with the cat therapist, Zoe backed up to my closet and peed with impunity!
A-L: What does impunity mean? And where does the coyote urine factor in? Was there some weird poolside baptism? I can double-check with my mom, but I don't think pregnant women are supposed to handle coyote urine. Maybe your baby will have paws.
Caroline: Well, it turns out that Cujo and Zoe were getting upset by all the other cats they could see (through the window) that were coming into our yard, so they were marking their territory. Only inside.
A-L: How many other cats were in the yard?
Caroline: Well, we live on a corner. So it's a crossroads. There's quite a line-up of perpetrators, such as Gray Kitty, Fluffy Gray Kitty, Fake Steve, Fluffy Steve, uh...
A-L: Who's Fake Steve?
Caroline: The cat that looks like Brian and Ashleigh's cat Steve.
A-L: Of course. Why were they all drawn to your yard? The hot tub?
Caroline: That's why the raccoons visit. It's a raccoon swingers' bar come nightfall. Which is a whole 'nother story.
A-L: So, where does the coyote urine factor in?
Caroline: The Cat Therapist said to spray it around the yard to keep the other cats out.
A-L: Of course. It all makes sense. But secretly I wish there had been some weird full-moon coyote urine baptism pot luck. Kitty has the perfect outfit for it.
A-L: Hi Caroline. How are you? How's pregnant married life?
Caroline: Great. We hired a cat therapist.
A-L: Because the cats threw up on your cat self-help book Think Like a Cat?
Caroline: No, there was a whole lotta cat pee goin' on. In the house. So we paid for a telephone consultation with a cat therapist. Turns out coyote urine (available from G.I. Joes.) does the trick.
A-L: Wow. I couldn't make this stuff up.
Caroline: At first we thought it was just Cujo peeing everywhere, but then, while we were on the phone with the cat therapist, Zoe backed up to my closet and peed with impunity!
A-L: What does impunity mean? And where does the coyote urine factor in? Was there some weird poolside baptism? I can double-check with my mom, but I don't think pregnant women are supposed to handle coyote urine. Maybe your baby will have paws.
Caroline: Well, it turns out that Cujo and Zoe were getting upset by all the other cats they could see (through the window) that were coming into our yard, so they were marking their territory. Only inside.
A-L: How many other cats were in the yard?
Caroline: Well, we live on a corner. So it's a crossroads. There's quite a line-up of perpetrators, such as Gray Kitty, Fluffy Gray Kitty, Fake Steve, Fluffy Steve, uh...
A-L: Who's Fake Steve?
Caroline: The cat that looks like Brian and Ashleigh's cat Steve.
A-L: Of course. Why were they all drawn to your yard? The hot tub?
Caroline: That's why the raccoons visit. It's a raccoon swingers' bar come nightfall. Which is a whole 'nother story.
A-L: So, where does the coyote urine factor in?
Caroline: The Cat Therapist said to spray it around the yard to keep the other cats out.
A-L: Of course. It all makes sense. But secretly I wish there had been some weird full-moon coyote urine baptism pot luck. Kitty has the perfect outfit for it.
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