Food Etiquettion

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My sister used to eat all the food on her plate systematically clockwise.

She’d eat all the potatoes, then the sausages, then the peas, …

It drove my mother crazy.

I started eating all my food systematically counterclockwise
… just to bother my sister.

I don’t know if that drove my mother crazy as well,
but our mother stopped making dessert for some reason.

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note: I have no table manners … when I’m eating a burger while walking.

double note: if people are feeding off of you … you must have good table mannerisms.

triple note: I’m C’est la vie about French food, Que Sera, Sera about Spanish food,  … (come on! I know you can add to this list)

quadruple note: Fast Food is okay, but Faster Food would be an improvement … maybe.

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what I’m listening to now #26: myself rambling internally.

Everyday Forever!

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As a child I’d tell my mother, “I could eat chicken everyday forever!”

She’d say, “Oh, I’m sure you’d get bored doing that. You’d want roast beef, lasagna, ham, or something else eventually.“

Outwardly I would keep a brave face and insist I could do it, but inwardly I knew she was right.

I realize now the faultiness of my statement.

Now as an adult with a lot more experience I’d tell her,

“I could eat chicken everyday forever … but I’d eat all that other good stuff too!
Heck! There are 3 meals in a day aren’t there?“

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note: I’m adamantly flexible about most stuff.

double note: actually, I used to tell my mother I could eat most things everyday forever … if I was enjoying what I was eating at the moment.

triple note: I usually buy regular chicken … or regularly buy usual chicken, but the prepackaged stuff isn’t bad when the fridge is bare.

quadruple note: all children are short sighted.
The big picture is for big people; the small picture comes with a dinky toy.

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what I’m listening to now #14: the snow snowing outside … my ears are pretty good … I thought you knew that!

Literature

 

I guess pamphlets picked off the ground and read are … 
 litterature.

 

note: litter makes me sick … I suffer from illitteracy probably.

double note: I only have a few books left to read. I’m going to start literationing.

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Today #367

Today I tried to explain Tommy the Pinball Wizard to a 10 year old. It ended up being a conversation on The Generation Gap.

Games

 

When I was a kid, my father introduced me to most games: solitaire, checkers, chess, cribbage, crazy 8s, Monopoly, snakes and ladders, Rumoli, hearts, 21, Scrabble, ….

I wish he was around now.

I need some help with Zombie Golf on my i-phone.

 

note: I lie: my mother was the Rumoli fiend in the family … she was a bit of a gambler/penny baron.

double note: it’s funny how people who don’t like games seem to like figuring out practical problems … they’ve never made the connection somehow.

triple note: I think life is a game … it’s a bit dicey at times.

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Today #342

Today I think my bank is giving me the special “evapo-rate“.

Your Present Is The Stocking!

 

I guess before Christmas was invented
people just got presents on December 25th for no reason at all.

 

note: I finally have a stocking with my name on it! Thanks sister of mine.
… I write my name on the bottom of all my socks with a jiffy-marker, but that’s just not the same.

double note: I wrote this last year about what stocking I used as a kid:
https://planetross.wordpress.com/2010/12/21/stocking-up/

triple note: my sister knitted a stocking for my girlfriend too. Now I will have to buy a bunch of stuff to fill it up with. Do they sell leg shaped pillows?    

quadruple note: before religions started making holidays everywhere, people must have had to work a lot more.

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Today #294

Today I didn’t have much energy. I wish Apple had an update for people with low battery problems.

Prizes

 

I visit a $1 store every once in a while to buy prizes for the kids I teach.

I’m pretty good at figuring out what kids aged 4 to 14  like.

I don’t know why I know what they will like, but I’m pretty good at it.

I have a talent. Go figure.

… But today I found this:

 

How super cool is this?   
Rhetorical question for sure.
I feel your envy.

I wish I had this when I was 4 years old … and now … and then … and now and then!

 

note: I’m keeping these babies! The kids won’t know.

double note: to tell the truth, I don’t think I ever grew up … I just got bigger.

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Today #246

It’s my oldest brother’s birthday  today: he’s 62. Happy Birthday Bro.
My mind is blown just thinking about it … and the balloon blowing up business.
He’s been in my family the longest … next to my parents … I’m sure he has stories.
I’m still a rookie compared to him.

Hotdog Sunday

 

My mother made hotdogs for lunch every Sunday.

Every Sunday!

Bulk wieners* boiling in the pot, homemade relish, steamed buns, and mustard and ketchup.

I guess it was the reward for going to church … or later on … not going to church, but not joining a cult or another church or wearing a Satan t-shirt.

Changing back into normal clothes after church was to the question, “How many?”        “3” was my usual reply.
Responding with “4” was met with “You can’t eat four!”

How could I sensibly argue with that?

No matter what I eat on Sunday for lunch now … I consider it a hotdog.

Always have and always will.

 

*bulk wieners: 2 weiners wrapped in plastic … looking like linked sausages.

note: one of my brothers refers to hotdogs as “sliders” … cause they slide in and out of you. But he’s a bit rude and humorous. … He’s ruderous I suppose.

double note: I wish I had a pair of wiener tongs … maybe I could deliver a kid or something.

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Today #243

Today went off without a hitch, but I didn’t have a trailer … so it was fine.

My Other Brother

 

 

Do you have brothers or sisters or both?

I’ve got a bunch: I love them all.

We are all cookies from the same batch: it’s just the way it is.

One of my brothers died about the same age as I am now. Two days before my next birthday in January 2010 I will be the same age as him when he died.

This bothers me for some reason. It taunts me. It’s in the back of my mind lately. It’s a regret. It’s there.

Was he my favourite brother?     No.

Were we close?    No.

Did we have anything in common?    Probably a bit of the same humor and most of the genetic material, but not too much else.

Did I really like him?    No.

… but I still loved him.  ………..  love him.

Looking at this photo I realize that he’s still somewhere in my life … if only represented by a stupid birthday card from 10 years ago on my kitchen wall.

The little boy in the picture  holding a banana is captioned with:

“He had only one idea, and that was wrong.”        
Benjamin Disraeli

I wish he were still alive and finally happy, but some wishes are bygones … and I’ll let bygones be bygones.

 

I miss not really liking him.

 

 

note: I had a different post to put on tonight, but when I saw this picture, taken by Mr. Pettit  a few weeks ago, I knew the other one could wait.

double note: a “bunch” is 6 siblings as defined by me.

triple note: when I look in the mirror I see more of him than all the rest of the rest for some reason. I’m sure my other brothers and sisters think I look most like my mother or my father. I’m not sure … I’ll have to ask them about this.

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notes to myself #80

The older you get the more you actually like your brothers and sisters: they are all cool. … I don’t know how that happens either!

Remembrance Day

 

 

My grandfather came to Canada in 1905 with his father: he was 5 years old.

His father stayed for a while, came to the conclusion that it was too late for him to start over in a new country, and went back to Belgium.

My grandfather was left with a Belgian family farming in Manitoba where he was treated poorly.

He ran away when he was 10 years old.

While walking down the dirt road he eventually came across some other kids speaking a different language and they took him to their home.

He became part of their family; he worked on their farm; and he learned their language.

One day a saleman came to the farm and my grandfather heard the saleman and the farmer discussing business in another language.

My grandfather was curious and asked the farmer what language he had been speaking.

“English” said the farmer.

“Then what the hell am I speaking?” asked my grandfather.

“Icelandic” replied the farmer.

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note: He signed up with the Canadian Expeditionary Force on Valentine’s Day 1916 and was discharged January 18th, 1919.
His discharge papers say that he was 20 years old and 9 months in 1919, but I think he lied about his age and was really only 15 years old when he joined in 1916.

double note: at the present time there are 10 wars and 32 civil conflicts taking place: http://www.globalsecurity.org/military/world/war/index.html

triple note: I only knew my grandfather as a person who could make something come alive out of driftwood and burls.

quadruple note: if any family members are reading this … yes I still have grandpa’s discharge papers … and the framed discharge portrait with all the bells and whistles is still stored at brother #2’s place for me one day.

quintuple note: from what I remember he was actually in a trench about 5 km away from where he was born at one time during the war, but didn’t know it.

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notes to myself #52

The burl table you store at your brother’s place eventually gets borrowed by your other brother. It’s probably for the best since I don’t think you’ll be moving back to Canada anytime soon.

Parenthetical Marks

 

My face just keeps getting more linear every year.

 

note: everything I say is in parentheses now.

double note: I was going to use a smiley photo, but I saw that I had something stuck between my teeth.

triple note: laugh lines are better than punchlines.

quadruple note: I’m living in linear times I guess.

quintuple note: the lines look like parentheses because they come from your parents … or something like that.

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notes to myself #47

You know how Mom used to push up and pull back her facial skin with her fingers and says she might get a facelift. 
You will do the same … and probably never will get one either.