This morning it was strongly suggested to me that I not make a particular comment to the delivery truck fella. Who had shown up with three and a half full cords of firewood. Which makes one heck of a daunting pile of wood.
Now I know it was only a suggestion. Made so that I wouldn’t look mentally awkward and I would be able to keep up the appearance of normalcy and socially recognizable sophistication.
So what was it that I didn’t tell the delivery man? After he’d dumped the wood in front of the tool shed and after he’d said, “You’ve got your work cut out for you!”
Well, remember last winter? When in one of my blog rants I mentioned that a poor squirrel was standing in the middle of the wood shed floor complaining, pleading and swearing at me, because I’d been getting too darn close to his little condo which he’d built the previous fall in the stacked firewood? It was late winter and I was dipping into the last row of wood.
What I was thinking of saying to the delivery man, but didn’t, was, “Skippy will be awfully happy to see those building supplies.”
Because, I’ll have to admit, and this is true, no joke - part of the reason we bought that extra half cord of wood was to give Skippy a secure one-year lease. Honest.
Before the building supplies showed up there had been signs that Skippy had been in the wood shed waiting and planning. There were sunflower seeds lying on top of an empty paint can. Also the siphon, which is always perched on top of Grinder’s gas can, was not stuck on top of Grinder’s gas can, and sometimes I could hear shuffling and scratching sounds in behind the big sheet of particle board.
Over the last few days, while I was stacking the wood, I heard and saw Skippy getting all vocal and excited. And often, when I would take a break from stacking, we’d see him on top of the wood, inspecting the pile and impatient for me to get it into the wood shed.
So what was it that I didn’t tell the delivery man? After he’d dumped the wood in front of the tool shed and after he’d said, “You’ve got your work cut out for you!”
Well, remember last winter? When in one of my blog rants I mentioned that a poor squirrel was standing in the middle of the wood shed floor complaining, pleading and swearing at me, because I’d been getting too darn close to his little condo which he’d built the previous fall in the stacked firewood? It was late winter and I was dipping into the last row of wood.
What I was thinking of saying to the delivery man, but didn’t, was, “Skippy will be awfully happy to see those building supplies.”
Because, I’ll have to admit, and this is true, no joke - part of the reason we bought that extra half cord of wood was to give Skippy a secure one-year lease. Honest.
Before the building supplies showed up there had been signs that Skippy had been in the wood shed waiting and planning. There were sunflower seeds lying on top of an empty paint can. Also the siphon, which is always perched on top of Grinder’s gas can, was not stuck on top of Grinder’s gas can, and sometimes I could hear shuffling and scratching sounds in behind the big sheet of particle board.
Over the last few days, while I was stacking the wood, I heard and saw Skippy getting all vocal and excited. And often, when I would take a break from stacking, we’d see him on top of the wood, inspecting the pile and impatient for me to get it into the wood shed.
Inspector Skippy
You see, I had appreciated the skill Skippy used to build his home when I came upon his empty lodging. And it was kind of sad seeing the empty nesting material and noticing how he had built it around a small piece of firewood.
Anyway, two weeks ago, I bought a fifteen-dollar dresser from a friend. Hang on, I’ll explain why this buying of a dresser has something to do with Skippy and his condo.
Now as you might know, my office is quite small. Which is befitting, because our whole home is quite small. Not that it matters to the bats and the mice but it can be a bit cramped for humans. I had looked at the green dresser at a yard sale, and thought I could put it on top of my other dresser and then have more storage space. But, when I got home and looked at my office dresser, I found out my new dresser was too wide. I hadn’t realized just how small the office dresser was. My eyes are spatially deficient.
I left the dresser in the truck and decided to sleep on what to do with it. The next morning I got up and did some more thinking on it. Began to ponder on where I’ve been finding animal homes. The mouse house that was built in my snow blower, the mice who had built a house in our kitchen cupboard’s pork and beans section, a raccoon nursery in the bottom of a boat, a squirrel condo in the back of our firewood. Lawn mowers, car engines, bedrolls - the list could go on forever.
So what am I saying? I’m saying that animals don’t have preconceptions. They don’t get all caught up in this for that and that for this. A lawn mower to us is for cutting grass. To a mouse it is for a two-bedroom apartment. Well, I think you get the drift.
So, why does a dresser have to be just a dresser? Why can’t I treat it like the animals treat our stuff? Why can’t I turn the dresser sideways and put shelves in it?
Which I did. Then I found out the bottom leg of the dresser could hold my lamp and other trinkets. I found out that the bottom of the dresser was a wall to put pictures on. I found that the top leg was a great place to hang things from, like an extra ceiling. And the inside of the dresser now has three shelves for books, and even has room for twelve bottles of home-made red wine, which two friends from Picton, Ontario brought us when they were down visiting.
Anyway, two weeks ago, I bought a fifteen-dollar dresser from a friend. Hang on, I’ll explain why this buying of a dresser has something to do with Skippy and his condo.
Now as you might know, my office is quite small. Which is befitting, because our whole home is quite small. Not that it matters to the bats and the mice but it can be a bit cramped for humans. I had looked at the green dresser at a yard sale, and thought I could put it on top of my other dresser and then have more storage space. But, when I got home and looked at my office dresser, I found out my new dresser was too wide. I hadn’t realized just how small the office dresser was. My eyes are spatially deficient.
I left the dresser in the truck and decided to sleep on what to do with it. The next morning I got up and did some more thinking on it. Began to ponder on where I’ve been finding animal homes. The mouse house that was built in my snow blower, the mice who had built a house in our kitchen cupboard’s pork and beans section, a raccoon nursery in the bottom of a boat, a squirrel condo in the back of our firewood. Lawn mowers, car engines, bedrolls - the list could go on forever.
So what am I saying? I’m saying that animals don’t have preconceptions. They don’t get all caught up in this for that and that for this. A lawn mower to us is for cutting grass. To a mouse it is for a two-bedroom apartment. Well, I think you get the drift.
So, why does a dresser have to be just a dresser? Why can’t I treat it like the animals treat our stuff? Why can’t I turn the dresser sideways and put shelves in it?
Which I did. Then I found out the bottom leg of the dresser could hold my lamp and other trinkets. I found out that the bottom of the dresser was a wall to put pictures on. I found that the top leg was a great place to hang things from, like an extra ceiling. And the inside of the dresser now has three shelves for books, and even has room for twelve bottles of home-made red wine, which two friends from Picton, Ontario brought us when they were down visiting.
Creative Storage Solution
What I did was simply use animal creativity. Just think what we could do if we were able to see things without having such a strong need or habit to label them.
What am I going to do with the drawers? I don’t know, but be sure that Skippy is in there, along with his buddies, checking them out.
What am I going to do with the drawers? I don’t know, but be sure that Skippy is in there, along with his buddies, checking them out.
***
Now, I’m only going to give one example of a decision I made which could be classified as weird. Not because it didn’t make sense. Not that I didn’t have a reason to make it. Just that it was a strange thing to have to make a decision about and I believe if we were all honest we would have to admit that these kinds of decision-making opportunities show up in all of our lives. Maybe in some more than in others.
One of my favorite drinks is ice cappuccino. I love it and once a week I buy one for Sue and one for me. Every first swallow is as tasty as the first taste of last week’s ice cappuccino.
One ice-cappuccino-buying day I decided to visit a friend. He’s a nice fella. We talked, laughed and argued for about an hour. Then I bid him a jolly good-bye.
I then proceeded to the ice cappuccino purveyors. Ordered two small ice caps and headed out onto the wide and busy highway where I took my first swig of the tasty elixir and Bang! What was happening? The trusty first hit of ice cappuccino didn’t punch me like it usually did. And it took me a tiny bit of time to figure out why.
I had, subconsciously at first, noticed that the part of the ice cap that gives it its bang, bang, zinger taste, seemed very familiar. And what was I noticing? I was noticing that I was tasting my friend’s house. His house smells like ice cappuccino. Holy crap, and I’m not saying that his house smells bad. It doesn’t, but I had no desire to be consuming a tasty bit of his domicile.
So, what was my decision? It was that I would not visit this friend any time within a day or two of my ice cap purchases. Now that’s how decisions are made.
One of my favorite drinks is ice cappuccino. I love it and once a week I buy one for Sue and one for me. Every first swallow is as tasty as the first taste of last week’s ice cappuccino.
One ice-cappuccino-buying day I decided to visit a friend. He’s a nice fella. We talked, laughed and argued for about an hour. Then I bid him a jolly good-bye.
I then proceeded to the ice cappuccino purveyors. Ordered two small ice caps and headed out onto the wide and busy highway where I took my first swig of the tasty elixir and Bang! What was happening? The trusty first hit of ice cappuccino didn’t punch me like it usually did. And it took me a tiny bit of time to figure out why.
I had, subconsciously at first, noticed that the part of the ice cap that gives it its bang, bang, zinger taste, seemed very familiar. And what was I noticing? I was noticing that I was tasting my friend’s house. His house smells like ice cappuccino. Holy crap, and I’m not saying that his house smells bad. It doesn’t, but I had no desire to be consuming a tasty bit of his domicile.
So, what was my decision? It was that I would not visit this friend any time within a day or two of my ice cap purchases. Now that’s how decisions are made.
***
You know, there are times when you have to think that if there are lots of clues, lots of signs, lots of annoyances and lots of other lots, that we would make decisions based on those items and occurrences which are sitting stark naked on the tip of our noses. Tap, tap. Knock, knock, there, big boy. Because doesn’t the universe hand out some quite startling, and really very obvious clues?
If we got up every morning and stepped out of the right side of the bed and tripped but whenever we stepped out of the left side of the bed we didn’t trip, then wouldn’t we look into it? Find out why we are tripping when we get out of the right side of the bed? Do something about it?
Well, that’s a silly example, I know, but I kind of deal in silly and what I’m leading up to is that just a tiny while ago there were the People’s Climate Marches. This was a chance for people to show governments and each other that they’re worried about what is happening to our earth. Because there are more ways than bombing the shit out of the earth to destroy it. I’ll give you two examples of a knock-knock-there-big-boy occurrence.
Although not all Republicans are climate change deniers, they do seem to represent the American party which spouts the most anti-climate change rhetoric. Remember, ‘Drill, baby, drill’? But look at this, wasn't the Republican Party’s convention postponed to another day because of Tropical Storm Isaac? We all know about that one.
The present Canadian Conservative/Reform party seems to be the Canadian party which specializes in denying or diminishing the importance of dealing with climate change, or at least doesn’t give it too much thought when they’re making their policies. Their last convention was cancelled due to record flooding in Calgary. They postponed it to Halloween. I wonder who won the best costume award? I wonder who they were tricking and who they were treating?
If we got up every morning and stepped out of the right side of the bed and tripped but whenever we stepped out of the left side of the bed we didn’t trip, then wouldn’t we look into it? Find out why we are tripping when we get out of the right side of the bed? Do something about it?
Well, that’s a silly example, I know, but I kind of deal in silly and what I’m leading up to is that just a tiny while ago there were the People’s Climate Marches. This was a chance for people to show governments and each other that they’re worried about what is happening to our earth. Because there are more ways than bombing the shit out of the earth to destroy it. I’ll give you two examples of a knock-knock-there-big-boy occurrence.
Although not all Republicans are climate change deniers, they do seem to represent the American party which spouts the most anti-climate change rhetoric. Remember, ‘Drill, baby, drill’? But look at this, wasn't the Republican Party’s convention postponed to another day because of Tropical Storm Isaac? We all know about that one.
The present Canadian Conservative/Reform party seems to be the Canadian party which specializes in denying or diminishing the importance of dealing with climate change, or at least doesn’t give it too much thought when they’re making their policies. Their last convention was cancelled due to record flooding in Calgary. They postponed it to Halloween. I wonder who won the best costume award? I wonder who they were tricking and who they were treating?
Skyline Trail - Cape Breton
