Goosed!

It was the end of the day. I was nice and relaxed after returning from the gym, and had just pulled into the driveway. As I looked back as my car was reversing, I spotted something on the lawn that wasn't there earlier.

A goose.

Not a real, live goose, but a goose that once belonged to a neighbour. A lawn ornament. I know this because every year, this particular neighbour sets out a few phony geese on her lawn (some people do garden gnomes, she does geese).

This was probably a prank by some of the local kids, possibly the same local kids who thought it was a joke to steal our solar rock from our front lawn last year or the year before (can't remember; old age). The rock never did come home.

Anyway, back to the goose. Yesterday we went to try and ask the goose lady if she was missing a goose, but she never answered the door.

We tried again, but no answer from the goose lady.

My Sweetie happened to look out of his office window and saw that her garage door was open, which meant she was either at home or going out. So he went over, and proceeded with the goose interrogation, thus determining that the found goose was in fact her goose. It was returned to its rightful owner.

Later, we drove past the house, and sure enough, the goose was reunited with his family, the threesome of plastic geese, protecting the tree.

On days like this, I love living here.

And Her First Question Should Have Been....

The other day, My Sweetie was trying to subscribe to a service (doesn't matter what). We were in the car using the hands free. The company we were calling was satellite based out of who-knows-where, so you can imagine the bad reception, bops and bips that occurred throughout the call (plus the lost cell at times).

The following conversation took place (you'll just have to imagine my peals of laughter in the background HEEEEEE).

CS (Customer Service): Yes, how can I help you?
MS (My Sweetie): I'd like to subscribe please.

CS: Okay let me bring up your account. What is your account id?
MS: I don't have that handy.

CS: Okay. Can I have your telephone number?
MS: yes........(proceeds to provide telephone number).

CS: I'm sorry but I cannot locate that number. Do you have an email adress?
MS: yes. schnook@mycar.net. That's S as in Sam, C as in chocolate, H as in Halo, N as in Nerd, O as in ohoh, O as in ohohohoh, K as in kindergarden, AT mycar, that's M as in Mother, Y as in Yamaha, C as in Cookie, A asin Atlantic, R as in Rambo, dot net, N as in November, E as in Ewe, T as in Tartar.

CS: okay, thank you. I'm sorry but I cannot locate that email address. Can we try your home address?

(I am already laughing beyond belief)

MS: 68 Berry Blvd, that's six eight, B as in Bear, E as in Ewe, R as in Raspberry, R as in Raspberry, Y as in Yuck.

CS: thank you.

What comes back next is bizarro.

CS: Do you have an address in Kansas?
MS: No.

CS: How about Illinois?
MS: No. I live in Canada.

CS: Oh! My! This is the US 800-number that you called. You need to call the Canadian 800-number! (Huh?)

By this time, both of us are just about driving off the road in a fit of laughter, having gone through almost the entire alphabet for this.


So, her first question should have been =====> ....what country are you in?

Mixed Messages

HEADLINE
Obama's support fading, polls say.
HEADLINE
Barracks aswim in feces, ickiness

No wonder Obama's support is fading.

(sometimes I amuse myself).

p.s. - it was snowing in Barrie this morning. *snortle*

p.s.s - I know....Omaba's name is Barack....

"Outer Dialogues"

My blogger SIL is in the hospital. She's been there before, but it is worse this time.

For those of you who are regular visitors to her blog, please send your thoughts and prayers her way so that she sees a speedy recovery.

*hugs*

Hear the Roar

No, not lions or tigers or bears (oh my!). The roar of life. Anywhere we seem to go, there is a roar. A dull roar of the city traffic, or the hum of the well used roads. It exists everywhere, city and country. A constant hum of whatever.

Yesterday was a perfect day for sitting in the backyard. It was sunny and warm. The birds were singing. It was great.

Then the roar started.

First it was the guy changing his winter tires in his driveway. Frrrrip friiip of the nuts being whirred from the tires.

Added to that little symphony was the guy with his power washer, trying to kill the bejeezus winter residue out of the driveway. Braaap-braaap-braaap.....annoying piece of s*i*.

Added to this was the guy running his ATV...not running it anywhere, just running it.

Add to this the cacophony of dogs, put outside to catch some rays, and to get the barking out of the house (go and annoy the neighbours Fido).

So, I finally found some quiet by retreating inside the house, turning on the sat radio, and chilling.

Today I am listening to hammering outside. No doubt someone is building something. A deck. A doghouse for Fido to bark in. Whatever.

The only place where I have ever heard total quiet is when we are sailing...away from the dogs and the machinery and the constant noise. I look forward to this...very soon.

Peace.

Still Remembering

Stewart Allen Sleno
SLENO, Stewart Allen. In memory of my dearest Dad who passed away twelve years ago. There is an ache in my heart that will never go away. What I wouldn't give for one more hug from you. Sadly missed and loved always, Maureen and Brian.
Published in the Montreal Gazette on 4/19/2008

Gimme More

Every day we receive something in the mail. Some charity sends us an envelope complete with a return envelope, a donation sheet, a letter of who we are supposedly helping, and a gift.

The gifts lately have been a 5 page notepad, with a picture of a flower or a bird or something. Or a bookmark.

What gets me is that they ask for a minimum of $15.00 or $10.00. To offset the cost of course.

It gets to be a bit much.

Besides, I already give at work.