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...

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

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

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."

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.

For Gemma

Love, Kitty

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.

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.

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.

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...

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.

The Gospel According to Snoopy

In church, on Christmas Eve...

Pastor is reading from Luke 2: 1-20, the story of the birth of Jesus, which includes this passage:

11Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. 12This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger."

Aila: Mom, mom, that's from Charlie Brown*!

Insert raucous laughter from A-L and Sister Maria.

*A Charlie Brown Christmas

Car Talk with Irma, Aila & Annais

Almost as funny as Car Talk, are the telephone conversations Irma has with Aila and Annais when they're in the car on the way home from day care.

Irma: Hi Aila, how are you?

Aila: Hi Momma, I'm fine.

Irma: Did you have a good day?

Aila: Yes, I had fun at Gloria's house. We sang songs.

Irma: What did you sing?

Aila: "Away in a Manger"

And then she sang Irma the first verse of "Away in a Manger", paused, and said, "You know Momma, it's a very long song."

Carry On

A-L: Hello.

Pete: Can you fit a snowsuit in your carry-on luggage?

A-L: Who is this?

Pete: It's your mother's boyfriend, the grandfather of the butternut squash.

A-L: Oh, my travel agent. How are ya, Pete?

Pete: Good, but answer the question. Can you fit a snowsuit in your carry-on luggage?

A-L: For what? Am I doing stand-up in business class?

Pete: No, you might need in it Newark, especially if you're spending Christmas there.

A-L: Why have you booked me through Newark? And who in New Jersey has invited me over for Christmas dinner?

Pete: Well, if you'll recall, you booked yourself through Newark. You know I'D never put you on Continental. And there are snowstorms scheduled for Newark.

A-L: I know, it was another rookie move booking a return flight through Newark in December. I'm sure it'll be fine though.

Pete: Did Irma tell you you only have an hour to change flights? She's worried you'll end up staying in New Jersey.

A-L: Forever? Do we have any cousins there?

Pete: Let me check. Hang on, Irma wants to speak to you.

Irma: Hi, A-L. Have you seen the news? They're expecting snowstorms in New Jersey right when you're landing. And you only have an hour to change planes. I hope you make it home for Christmas. It would be terrible if you got stuck in New Jersey.

Name that Gourd

I don't think that's technically a pumpkin, or a 'punkin' as Sister Maria called it. It looks a bit more like a butternut squash.

More English Lessons

Ted came home from work on Thursday morning (as I was heading to work) in an exceptionally good mood. I thought it was appropriate to bid him farewell with "see you later, alligator", which required a quick game of charades (with my arms playing the role of the alligator's mouth) and a look in the Polish/English dictionary. And then I of course had to introduce the phrase "in a while, crocodile."

We haven't had a chance to practice the exchange, but I'll let you know when Ted's passed the exam. Here's the Answer Key-

A-L: See you later, alligator.

Ted: In a while, crocodile.

Geography

Report from Sister Maria:

This morning in the car on the way to Gloria's, Aila said: "I don't want to go to Spain when I'm 5. I want to go to the big school."

So I responded with "There are big schools in Spain, and besides when we go to Spain we'll be closer to Anna Lisa."

My little geography girl replied: "Anna Lisa lives in Scotland, not Spain!"

I stand corrected.

Airport Journey

Last Thursday morning I escorted Ted to the airport. He was heading back to Poland for two weeks to visit his wife and kids, and was quite worried about going to the airport alone, and figuring out where to check in, etc.

But I wasn't being totally selfless. I didn't get up an hour early just so I could help Ted, and make sure he got on his flight ok. I was banking on the fact that on the journey between the flat and the airport, he would say something hilarious, like 'grandbrother' or 'sister-in-love' or 'tennis problem'.

No such luck. Ted's English is getting too good. I might have to exchange him. Mr. Squirrel said 'Kitty problem' last night (because he thought Kitty was confused by the fact that he had built a shelf above her litter tray), so I suppose he's thrown his hat in the ring. And as an added bonus, Mrs. Squirrel is a darn good cook.

Ted, redeem yourself.

Mr. & Mrs. Squirrel Come to Town

Flatmate Justyna's parents are here from Poland, for 10 days. They don't really speak English, so we speak the international language of vodka and cured meats. It turns out their last name is Polish for 'squirrel', which is probably why Kitty has adopted Mr. Squirrel as her foster mother.

Conversation, via interpreter Justyna, which took place after I caught Mr. Squirrel feeding Kitty pieces of pork off his plate...

A-L: She's for sale. I have papers to prove she's only had fleas once.

Mr. Squirrel (to Kitty): Oh, you can come back to Poland with me.

(Kitty: I need to be hand-fed cured meat.)

A-L: She doesn't have a passport though.

Mrs. Squirrel: She can be on our family passport. If they question us at the airport, we'll just say "it's two squirrels and a cat."

Two days later, Mrs. Squirrel changes her tune...this time no interpreter was present. A Polski/English dictionary, and lotsa hand signals resulted in this conversation:

Mrs. Squirrel: We saw a sign today, for a missing cat.

A-L: Yeah, I was thinking of copying the layout to make a poster saying I've found a cat.

Mr. Squirrel: The cat on the missing poster looks remarkably like Kitty.

Gordon to A-L: Have you told the Squirrels that Kitty is stolen?

A-L: Pipe down, or you won't get any more speaking lines.

Mrs. Squirrel: By my calculations, that cat is worth 150 GBP.

Gordon to A-L: Mrs. Squirrel just referred to Kitty as 'that cat'.

A-L: I know, she's lovely. Kitty hates her too.

Don't forget about Brandon Hein

http://www.brandonhein.com/