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Showing posts from July, 2017

The Cereal Singer

Little Tommy led a charmed life. An only child he had it made. Pretty much anything he wanted, he got. He loved his parents and was thankful for all they did for him.

So thankful, in fact, that Tommy and his parents went to church every Sunday to thank God for all the good things in their lives. Little Tommy's favourite part of the service was when they sang hymns. Tommy was a good singer for someone so young and he wailed and wailed, his face raised to the ceiling and heaven above.

Tommy knew his parents were very religious because when they got home from church every Sunday they would retreat to the bedroom to pray. Tommy knew this because every once and awhile he'd hear his mother exclaim "Oh God, oh God, Oh God."

Left to his own devices, little Tommy would fix himself some breakfast and reflect on his pitch perfect wailing. In fact, he often continued to sing the hymns he had just sung in church. His favourite breakfast was a new cereal called Pocs. It didn'…

Alone Again, Naturally

Week two of the "great strength of our marriage contest" whereby I spend each week at the cottage Maryse and I have rented while Maryse spends Monday to Thursday in the city working. Don't tell her I said this but I'm lonely. I miss her. And I'm left to my own devices. No not the inflatable doll. I mean I have to do things for myself like wake myself up in the morning, prepare my own meals and so on.

This morning I was up at 5:30. I prepared breakfast, ate it, did the dishes, had my shower, got dressed and drove the garbage down the road to the dump. All before 9am. And all without having somebody tell me to do it. Pretty amazing, eh?

There's no cell service here and no network television. I make do with Netflix and You Tube. Catching up on some classic movies. I watched Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction the other night and Spike Jonze's Adaptation with Nicholas Cage the next night. I should have said classic 90s movies.

My meals are pretty pedestrian…

Sounds

We gathered in the dark. After an evening of several libations with new friends we boarded the pontoon boat for a short trip across the lake. The only sound, apart from our conversation and laughter, and the low speed chugging of the motor, was the call of several loons.

It was our first day at the cottage and the rain had finally let up after falling for most of the day. We were lucky. The fireworks began at 10pm sharp. Mayhem would have ensued if the pyrotechnics had have been cancelled.

I'd never witnessed fireworks on the water before. They exploded noisily in the air but their reflection below was silent.

For twenty minutes the loons had company as the revellers cheered and clapped and the pontoon drivers sounded their horns. We laughed at the solar-powered boat whose horn bleated like a sheep.

The manly toots of the rest of the boats responded to its call. Or perhaps derided it. The loons were silent.


This week's prompt from Tara at Two Word Tuesday is fireworks/mayhem. …