Monday, March 30

damn fine pie

Okay, so I know this story is going to be no where near as exciting as running over Kelsey Grammer with 96 rolls of toilet paper but it would be really nice if you stuck around. Plus: I've got pie.

In recent days we have been experiencing some Spring-like weather. Now I'm not completely oblivious to the fact that according to the calendar and mass media, and oh yes, those fancy scienceymatiffic folks, it actually is Spring, so I shouldn't be surprised by the overall weather being Spring-like. But I don't quite trust the weather gods just yet.

For all I know, there could be a metre of snow headed my way, ready to wallop all my over-confident actions so the gods can sit back and  laugh about it while pointing fingers at my lameness. Lame-labelling actions like packing away all the hats, gloves, snowpants, and parkas in the back of the storage closet, leaving the house without packing brandy chocolate emergency supplies, freeing the sled dogs loose for another season, etc. Because you never know when snow is going to hit and I usually don't stop worrying about flurries until at least mid July. Because by July I'm complaining about how flippin' hot it is and for those who don't believe it ever gets hotter than Hades anywhere in Canada, well those people have obviously never spent a summer in Toronto. Summers so foul and humid, that you can fry eggs on the sidewalk, remove wallpaper with a dirty look, and realize how pungent fellow human beings can get - and those are the ones who bathe on a regular basis.

BTW if that wasn't a tangent, I don't know what one is.

So yes trying to resume the topic track, nice weather brings out my neighbours (honest, that really is the topic). For the most part, I see a lot less of my neighbours in the cold weather months and I'm sure it has nothing to do with me refusing to leave the house for months on end. Because I may hide from the elements but I have windows people, AND binoculars, and I know how to use them, all stealth-like even. Anyhow, seeing so many of the neighbours during this past week was where I was headed in this "it shouldn't be this long yet it is" post.

So yes (still talking, which is unbelievable because once you reach the pie, you'll feel lightheaded. And by lightheaded, I might mean slightly resentful if you think of your time as being precious) I've been meaning to mention these neighbours for a while because they both always make me double take for no other reason than I'm prone to discrete rubber necking when it comes to famous or interesting looking people. Or at least I hope it's discrete. Oh great, now something else to be hyper paranoid about.

Anyhow, to make a completely short story longer than ever necessary, almost making it borderline criminal in preamble: For the past three years, I've been meaning to mention I live on the same block as the faux Bob from Twin Peaks and faux Wilford Brimley. Seriously. These two men are what one might call: dead ringers. Scouts honour. And of course I have no witnesses but my life is like a sitcom so I know I'll be proven right sometime by the end of the season and/or character arc.

Yeah, so the faux-celebrities of my life come out in when the thaw starts and I don't know much more about these two unrelated faux celebs other than faux-Bob wears denim all the time and his grey hair is always flying behind him plus he always looks kind of angry and faux Wilford hangs out at the local doughnut shop, wears a plaid shirt and fishing hat all the freakin' time. And he always looks like he's contemplating oats. It's whacked.

No wait, correction: this post is whacked.

Anyhow, on a completely unrelated note: my daughter was so angry with me the other day she called me a bee. She stomped her feet and spat at me with an accusing finger for emphasis "You. Are. A. BEE!" and I immediately thought "that's the best you've got kid? you have so much to learn my grasshopper." but I held my tongue. Sometimes I'm surprised by my own maturity. But that is always quickly cancelled by my lack of focus.

Oh look: shiny pie.

[image: green shock's flickr ]


Vodka Mom said...

can I serve that in kindergarten? They can't read anyway.

Corrin said...

I called my mom a bee once, but I didn't mean bumble. :-P

Teena in Toronto said...

Happy blogoversary!

Kyla said...

I love your posts.

I hate bees, like crazy-hate them, so if I called you a bee, I'd basically be wishing to kill you...or wishing to run away screaming while someone else killed you. Probably the latter.

Anonymous said...

First: I can only presume you bought the ingredients for that pie by pulling money out of your Pulp Fiction-style "Bad Mother Fucker" wallet.

Second: "metre?" Not only did you go Canadian by using the metric system as opposed to... you know, measurements that make sense... but you redoubled it by using the "theatre/centre" style of spelling. That's, like, double-secret Canadian right there.

for a different kind of girl said...

Harry from "Harry and the Hendersons" used to live next door to me, but sadly (aka - YEAH!), hairy, if it's spring, 'he must have lost his shirts!' neighbor moved last year.

Also, I'm still scared to death to call my mom a bee, even though some days she can be a big old bee!

catnip said...

I'm stuck on Bob from Twin Peaks. ~shudder~ I would have to move.

Mac and Cheese said...

That's why you should always buy a home in the warmer months. Neighbours should be thoroughly assessed prior to such a commitment.

Ali said...

there were flurries on my way into work this morning. the calendar might say it's spring...but it lies. LIES, i say.

ps. i kind of love wilford brimley because HI, I LOVED OUR HOUSE. heh.

Velma said...

This morning my son mumbled that either I or school was the "suckest" on his way out to the bus. We are going to be having a chat when he gets home from school, yeah.

Chicky Chicky Baby said...

Do you see that smoke? It's coming out of my head. Thanks so much.

But ooh, pie. I like pie. F*ck yeah.

mamatulip said...

Okay, my entire comment went out the door when I saw that pie.

FUCK YEAH, indeed.

Mandy said...

Ya lost me once I moved past the Kelsey Grammar sentence.

But I love you anyway. And man that pie looks good, profanity and all!

Mimi said...

Dood, you 'hood needs some cooler celebrity lookalikes. Hm. Wait. My 'hood has NO celebrity lookalikes.

You win.

Mary G said...

That, my dear, is a genuine 'shaggy dog' post.
Love it.
I suppose we are supposed to get pie faced?

Domestic Extraordinaire said...

you fucking rock!

petite gourmand said...

is that pie a Martha Stewart recipe?

No Mother Earth said...

Is that pie answering the question: "Should I eat you?" (Wait...that sounds kinda dirty...)

I'm so crazy I can't put my shovels and salt away till late May when I KNOW it ain't gonna snow no more.