Looking at life through a funhouse mirror
April is supposed to be the cruelest month, but in fact it’s March that deserves that crown. At least in these parts, April doesn’t regularly erupt into spontaneous snow squalls and spawn northwest winds that fling the snow shovel across the street into the side of the neighbour’s minivan. Luckily, the shovel doesn’t have any …
There are ghostly cat paw prints on the floor. You have to look at just the right angle to see them on the hardwood, but when the sun comes in through the sliding glass kitchen doors, like it’s doing today, they are as obvious as dinosaur tracks on the marble tile. There are dust bunnies, …
It has come to my attention that I am not the only household harbouring criminals. There have been two usurpers prowling in the backyard lately, a gray tabby and a calico. Henry oversees all of this from his perch on the railing of the second-floor deck. He likes to sit on the northeast corner in …
Okay. That thing I said a few weeks ago about having had my last lake swim of the season? I was wrong. My definitive final lake swim was the last weekend in September. That weekend, and the entire week preceding it, was gloriously warm and sunny every day. Although I had not dipped my toe …
For some reason, it only just dawned on me that every official season is exactly the same duration of three months. Summer begins on June 21 and ends on September 21, whereupon fall takes over until December 21 and so on through winter and spring, until summer rolls around again. I think it took me a …
There is such a thing as a double-decker pontoon boat. That’s all I’m going to say about that. Except for one thing. Double-decker pontoon boats remind me of Dolly Parton’s height-defying wig. It catches the eye, but is completely unnecessary and possibly dangerous. The wake from the excessively prevalent wake-boats spring to mind. But what …
We have acquired a ten-foot pole. Or actually, this pole has been around for some time, but it has been living under my radar. It is supposed to be an extension for poles you wish were longer, like brushes for washing stuff on the outside of the house. Or something like that. Whatever its real …
The red squirrel that Dennis caught the other day, down by the dock while I was swimming, has thankfully, I assume, been repurposed as dinner for a bird of prey. Maybe one of the ravens (are they birds of prey? Henry seems to think they are and makes sure to steer clear of them.) Anyhow, …
“Salads! A cool relief on a hot summer’s day!” the food magazine says. I am here to tell you this is not true. Not the eating of the salads, which is actually a very good idea, heat or no heat. It’s the making of the salads that is a completely ridiculous thing to do when …
Why is it that when I wake up in the middle of the night (which usually corresponds with when Dennis decides he wants to go out), all of my hundred bug bites start itching simultaneously? Furthermore, why is it that I have so many bug bites, and why do they swell up to the size …