Zoned out puppy dog. It must be sunday afternoon. I felt much the same. Fortunately, I was able to follow suit and take a nice relaxing nap ala Grendel.  

Small World Getting Smaller

The last couple of weeks have been quite pleasant. I've made contact with a whole bunch of friends from years gone by, some of whom I have not seen in over 15 years. The Mad Sailor and Brian came over to hang out for the day two weeks ago. The three of us embarked on a small road trip to the metropolis of Meaford to see the rest of the Mad Sailor's family. Mrs. C is in good spirits despite the impending knee replacement, and true to form, the Mad Sailor is still hurling barbs at the rest of his siblings.

After we departed Meaford, we decided to find our pal Mark, who can still be found up by the Buffalo Farm. Mark and his lovely wife S are doing well, and so are their two daughters. The old party cottage has been transformed into something a lot more solid and better insulated. It's looking good. That's probably because we're not there every weekend filling the front hall with empty beer cases. Mark still doesn't have any trees to block his view.

We also found Bob slaving over a hot cash register at the LCBO while we were on the road. He suggested to his colleague on the other cash register that she check our criminal records before serving us. I don't know if he was serious or not, because he might have been implicated himself. I'd hate anyone to find out about the truly massive pink flamingo collection.

To add to the wonder of finding old friends, Johnny Q resurfaced. He's doing well dousing fires for the city of Toronto. We have hatched a plan to get together with none other than Todd Injury. Todd has probably been the most secretive of all of us. He got hitched many moons ago, and disappeared from the face of the earth. All of us think that his wife didn't like us for some crazy reason. Seems like she was trying to raise Todd a second time. Mrs. P did a fine job the first time out if you ask me.

And here's the kicker.... Mike, who was inspired enough to write my biography, came over to my table at the Korean restaurant this evening. He has also written a few feature length films. He's in town working on a project or two. I believe he calls Nova Scotia home where he tells me he is happily married with a pair of sons. Good for him. It was startling to see Mike because I hadn't seen him since the early 90s. We had been almost joined at the hip since 1966 when we both met in Grade 1. Forty years of friendship is hard to forget even if there have been some significant gaps in more recent times.

After all these recent contacts with many ancient friends, I feel inclined to call Darrin. I wouldn't want him to miss out on all the fun. We have got to go to Todd's cottage to drink beer and tell lies. Maybe Todd will injure himself again. That would be worth the price of admission.

Where's Robbie when you need him?

Quirky Alone Test Results

How quirkyalone are you?

Your score was 97. Very quirkyalone:
Relatives may give you quizzical looks, and so may friends, but you know in your heart of hearts that you are following your inner voice. Though you may not be romancing a single person, you are romancing the world. Celebrate your freedom on National Quirkyalone Day, February 14th!

It's hectic having a TV star for a housemate

Holy cow!

PJ has been away for a few days on his TV shoot. England has been good to him. We're all excited for him, and we can't wait til airtime. Apparently he's getting the hang of yapping at a camera instead of throngs of genealogists. Good On Ya, as they say down under.

In the meantime, the computer geekery has gotten quite busy while he's been away. I am definitely feeling the time pinch between the puppy sitting and keeping the wheels of industry turning. I've had to do battle with the phone company because they broke one of my customer's internet connection. It's a long, ugly story which doesn't bear repeating. It's just business as usual. Even so, I'm getting lots of stuff done even without PJ to help out.

Of course you're all wondering why I'm complaining about time, when I have time to whine about it on my blog. I guess I should just sit still and take a few good breaths. I probably need them. Spot does too.

The thing is, I've come to realize that I've got to make more time for the little fugger who has invaded my life. My man from Michigan, LSD has kindly offered his advice on making some progress with Grendel's training. With PJ gone, I think I shall introduce Grendel to a crate. It will be his place and it will reinforce the idea that I'm the alpha dog, not him. The other upside will be that PJ won't have to endure Grendel's complaints as the dog gets used to the crate. I suspect the next couple of weeks are going to be exciting round these parts, just like the last two. I'll keep you posted on our progress.

It's the day after St. Patricks and even Grendel is wiped out.  

The wonders of modern technology. Whycocomagh's shoe phone has a camera on board, so Jibber took the liberty of snapping this one. I'm fumbling all over the neck, and Whycocomagh is playing circles around me. I'm a saxophone player. What was I thinking getting a geetar? 

The Paw of Approval. It's official. Grendel has passed grade 1 with flying colours. Everyone is hysterically proud of the little fugger especially me. Dorothy handed out diplomas to all the dogs. Strangely enough, none of the dogs appeared to care, but the humans were all smiling.  

I have a new best friend.

All of my other friends had better step aside, because my pal has made some impressive gains in his confidence around humans. He was quite approachable, and liked nothing better than a scratch under the chin or on his big furry belly. Everybody meet Bear. He's actually Lividviv's cat, but any friend of hers is a friend of mine. That's just the way it should be.

An old tore-down house near Rob Roy, ON. This must have been someone's dream home once upon a time. Now it's an empty windowless shell. Dreams and the people are gone. The last farmer here moved out in the sixties probably.  

A surviving leaf from last fall, bleached and pale after a harsh winter under the ice.  

The Beaver River has overflowed her banks and flooded hundreds of acres in the Epping Swamp. 

Looking downstream from the bridge at Epping ON.  

The deer are on the move looking for forage. One deer has left us some evidence that there's food available for them. The escarpment is opening up, and browsing is a little easier after the long winter in the Grey Co. Forest.  

Here is one of the many temporary streams carrying the meltwater into the Mill Creek upstream from Redwing ON. 

Spring runnoff at Duncan. 

A closer look at the tore-down house. 

The snow has been melting at a furious pace this week, and the poor rodents of Duncan ON have nowhere to hide from the predators. Their tunnels are now exposed and refuge has to be found elsewhere.  

The Lonely Tree is standing in front of a big pool of meltwater. This particular tree has been deprived of more company because the wacky tower was taken down recently.  

The little fugger is 5 months old. He's a handsome devil basking in the sun upon his little green pad.