I've just parked in a remote corner of a Walmart lot after checking the back of my pants while driving home.
I left home at 6:30 this morning for an eye exam in Dryden. Spent an hour in the doctor's office, another few minutes shopping for mouse traps and a lamp that I couldn't find in Sioux Lookout, then spent a very pleasant hour visiting with dear friends.
As I left Dryden I reached over to the passenger seat for the banana I had put there a few hours ago. I could smell it, but couldn't find it anywhere. After shuffling papers and gloves and other debris that has built up since I last had a passenger, I had an uh oh moment.
A little squirming in the seatbelt and a quick thrust of my right hand down to where I was sitting told me exactly why the cab of my truck smelled so good but I couldn't find the banana.
I'm not able to check the back of my pants here in the parking lot, so I think I will drive straight home. It's kinda okay to walk around among strangers in a strange town with a gob on the ass but I wouldn't want people at home to see me like this.
We decided to have burgers for supper - big, fat, juicy ones smushed between the cheeks of giant, multi-grain, toasted-on-the-grill Kaiser rolls.
In a Jehovah's Witness or political kind of way, attempting to elicit plenty of yesses, I asked, "Cheddar cheese on it? "
"Slice of tomato fresh from the garden? "
"Couple lettuce leaves plucked from the garden? "
"Yes. Yes. "
"Mustard, ketchup, relish?"
"Salt? Pepper? A little garlic powder?"
"Of course. Yes!"
"Huh? Are you nuts?"
I'm thinking if one wants to be a successful politician or Jehovah's Witness, diced bananas would not be a winning piece of conversation.
The hot tub is ready for a Friday evening frolic. As I added the last few logs to the stove a few minutes ago and sat marveling at the graceful plumes of birch smoke rising to meet another peaceful Canadian sunset I wondered if the night might be enhanced if we filled the tub with garlic butter instead of water.
What a fabulous evening! Rotary club members, families, and friends got together for a crawdaddy cookout at the palace, enjoying a fine feast and warm camaraderie at the lake.
The only way it could have been nicer is if the sun hadn't set so soon.
I borrowed Rosie's water dish for this picture to reminisce and to share a crazy story.
About 35 years ago I woke up one morning and discovered a stainless steel dog's dish, very similar to this one, on my kitchen counter. It was upside down and had a bright pink balloon taped to the top.
After a brief moment emerging from the brain fog of a Saturday night, I suddenly pictured myself leaving the home of friends (let's call them Mac and Nancy).
I don't remember the walk home, but I know I did it - a mile across town and right through downtown - wearing a ballooned dog dish on my head.
Later in the day when we got together again I was met with laughter and Polaroid pictures of me decked out in that silly helmet.
"By the way, " Mac said. "When you disappeared last night you were drinking a glass of wine. Do you know where my glass is?"
"Oh, yes," I replied immediately. "Part way home I ran out of wine. I was just passing a construction site so I walked over to a big pile of gravel in the middle of the lot. Had a hell of a time, but I climbed all the way to the top and put the empty glass there so I could find it in the morning."
We went looking. As is often the case, things look different in the daylight, but we eventually did find the glass, perched precariously but upright and safe atop a six-inch high shovel full of sand.
We had many memorable events during the next few years. Mac was even my best man when Mary and I were married in 1982.
Mac and Nancy moved across the province - 1200 miles away - 30 years ago. We haven't seen them since, but the friendship has held with occasional cards and phone calls.
Last week I was devastated when a friend told me that Mac had died. I felt especially bad that I hadn't made more attempt to keep in closer touch and fretted over things left unsaid, and regretted I didn't know about his passing when it happened.
This morning I called Nancy. We chit chatted a bit awkwardly. She told me about the kids and we wandered aimlessly through a couple minutes of talk.
"How are you doing, Nancy?" I finally asked.
"A lot better now," she replied, then told me of the struggles she has had with allergies for the last three years.
"And Mac's doing pretty good too. His arthritis causes him some pain but he gets along just fine."
"Is he there now?" I questioned.
"Yes. He's out in the garden. Hang on, I'll get him."
Moments later I heard the old familiar, "Hello" of my good friend and best man.
"Mac, you'll never know how happy I am to hear your voice," I shouted.
That was some exquisite moment! !