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Trailer hitch…

May 15, 2011

I can quickly forget my anger when I’m in bed with my wife…

But I don’t often get there…

Dr. David Suzuki, chuckling in response to THE question:

What do you do when you’re angry???

as posed by George Stroumboulopoulos…

I was raised Catholic,

so to speak…

What that really means,

is I was put through,

the paces,

of baptism,

confession,

communion,

confirmation,

and bedtime Our Father’s,

for the sake of appearances,

and that elusive doorway,

to Heaven…

A few months after my confirmation,

I wanted to be born again,

and a few months after that,

I became the atheist,

I was until,

I turned forty-one,

remembered Great Spirit,

and found,

the non-denominational church,

of The Vancouver Canucks…

Last night,

I put together,

an offering,

of granola,

for the chalice,

of the Stanley Cup…

And a few hours before that,

I broke bread,

with some spot prawns,

because ’tis the season,

and the last supper,

before round three,

of shark fin soup…

I’ve been heard to say,

that instead of that decade,

of rushing home,

to lay,

a gourmet meal,

out on the table,

I should have been,

on my knees,

at the altar,

of shinny…

But we all know,

one shouldn’t waste time,

crying on,

the shoulder of regret…

There was no such thing,

as lingerie hockey,

back in the 90’s…

It wasn’t even,

a twinkle,

in my eye,

until I reached,

this middle age…

But now that,

the figment,

has been,

rolling around,

my imagination,

non-stop,

it’s only a matter,

of lacing up,

my hockey socks,

before the thought,

races on to the ice…

One of the things,

I have grown to love,

about Alain Vigneault,

is that he can keep,

important information,

to himself…

This isn’t something,

immediately obvious,

but over time,

as I watch,

his pressers,

he says the bare minimum,

to satisfy,

the feeding hounds,

and is capable,

of holding his ace,

close to the hip,

until it’s absolutely,

called for…

Apparently,

A.V. often jogs,

the Seawall,

on game day…

As Coach’s consultant,

I wash the china,

polish the silver,

and vacuum the house,

before I settle down,

for 5 pm. mass,

at the Rog…

And yes,

you can blame,

my approach,

on that red dress,

and everything else,

someone like me,

swears on,

underneath it…

Turn it up a little louder...

Horn section…

May 14, 2011

It had been a bitter day like this one,

and Torak had stared at the slimy willow wands piled at his feet,

wondering how he was ever going to turn them into a net…

‘Don’t think about the net,’ Finn-Kedinn had told him…

‘Take a single willow wand and strip it…

You can do that,

can’t you???’

‘Of course,” He’d learned how to strip a stick before he could hold a knife…

‘Then do it,’ said the Raven Leader…

‘Step by step…

One branch at a time…’

— in Outcast by Michelle Paver

A few weeks ago,

I strolled down,

to the big park,

where the eagles,

have been nesting,

successfully,

for many moons now…

Starshine was trying out,

for winter soccer,

and I was watching,

as inconspicuously,

as ever,

from behind,

the Cottonwoods,

so’s to keep,

a low profile…

The sky filled,

with huge drops,

of rain,

when I noticed a boy,

playing tennis,

with his dad…

As this little guy,

on the smaller end,

of the growth charts,

smoked the ball,

back and forth,

with the greatest,

of ease,

I asked his mom,

standing netside,

How old is your son???

She said,

Four years old…

I can’t play with him anymore…

He’s become too good…

These days,

children aren’t waiting,

until they’re five,

or six,

to ride a bike…

If presented,

with the opportunity,

to scoot,

down a hill,

at two years old,

they’ll take it,

and then some…

And if a little boy,

can kick tennis ass,

or know the name,

and jersey number,

of every single player,

on the Canucks’ roster,

including the ones,

who’ve been prepared,

for the final round,

on the farm team,

at four,

what’s he going to do,

when he gets to Kindergarten,

and he has to sit still,

and count to five…

How fast can you,

write a report card,

for the autism spectrum???

And ADHD???

How about,

oppositional,

defiant disorder???

The other day,

Starshine called me,

from the kitchen…

She said,

Mama,

looks like we’ve got,

a situation here…

I opened the cupboards,

below the sink,

and everything was wet…

It seems,

a persistent leak,

of the hot water tap,

created,

a swamp,

in the darkness,

which has not been,

attended to,

for a very long time…

For now,

until a better solution,

presents itself,

I’ve placed,

a dog bowl,

in position,

to catch the water…

But I seriously doubt,

that public education,

is prepared,

to contain,

what is being held back,

by an aging old dam,

built,

under the mandate,

of government…

As we all well know,

cracks in the structure,

are obvious signs,

of decay,

and when they’re ignored,

what wants to,

implode on itself,

will…

And the implosion,

won’t be stopped,

by any kind of expert,

from the academy,

or a union,

caught up,

in its own interests…

As for associations,

of management,

they’ll simply be,

tripping themselves,

over rhetoric…

The other day,

when we were walking up,

to the Drive,

to stock up,

on a couple of weeks worth,

of raw meat,

for the cats,

Little Gem slipped her hand,

into mine,

and said,

Mama,

I think you’re waiting,

for more work,

to come to you…

And the job you’re here,

to do next,

hasn’t been invented yet…

So be patient,

with yourself,

and rest up,

so that you’ll be ready,

when they are…

Last Saturday,

under super heavy,

cloud burst,

Starshine,

Little Gem,

and I piled into,

our big red car,

for a field trip,

with the cats…

At first they fought,

getting into their crate,

due to the negativity,

of past experiences…

But once we’d arrived,

and settled in,

at the vet,

for some advice,

and remedy,

on the puncture wounds,

Boy Cat acquired,

while adventuring,

it was just like,

a regular day,

at the office,

and we knew,

they are ready,

for anything…

I once had a soft spot,

in my heart,

for Kyle Wellwood,

because of our time,

making scones,

together,

in my kitchen,

and I still kind of do,

because,

on the whole,

he’s a smart cookie…

But as a new father,

he needs to learn,

to be more reflective,

and mind,

his P’s and Q’s…

The Vancouver Canucks,

as we now know them,

are no longer,

as he says,

Afraid to lose…

Rather,

they have nothing to lose…

And when you find yourself,

in that state,

of affairs,

anything really,

is possible…

Because NOTHING,

is all that is ever,

holding anyone back,

from EVERYTHING

Yesterday,

as a candidate,

delivered,

the arms,

of my breech baby,

using the Løvset manoeuvre ,

during a practical exam,

she looked me straight,

into the eyes,

and asked,

Are you a midwife???

At first,

I didn’t know how,

to answer her question,

truthfully,

but then I smiled,

in-between pushes,

and said,

Socratically speaking,

I guess I am…

It’s just that this time around,

I’m assisting,

in the steady,

and sure delivery,

of The Stanley Cup…

After panting through,

the safe passing,

of the head,

she laid the doll,

across my prosthetic belly,

and said,

Well done…

It may be a bit premature to say,

but it looks to me,

like this baby’s,

been bearing down,

to come out,

a winner…

And wondering what dress to wear now...

Cheese strings…

May 11, 2011

Simply pour a sachet of Miso soup into a mug…

Add a cup (200ml) of boiling water and stir…

Wait a minute or two for the full flavour to develop before drinking…

Mighty Miso Pumpkin and Vegetable

With every drop,

that falls,

I must say,

I am truly grateful,

for this rain…

We are being,

showered,

with weather,

which depending,

on which side,

of the fence,

you sit,

is an opportunity,

to revel,

in all the mystery,

before Sunday 5 pm.,

Pacific Daylight Savings time…

I’ll be the first,

to admit,

that yesterday,

I was itchy,

and bummed,

like a junkie,

with a smashed pipe,

that Versus,

has the rights,

to the remaining games,

of the second round series,

and I don’t have access,

to GD cable…

But instead,

of letting,

the mood fester,

I moved,

my irritation,

with some badminton,

at MacLean Park…

By the time,

Little Gem,

and I got home,

from a record volley,

and heard,

over the airwaves,

that Detroit,

was still,

in the house,

I felt better,

all around…

If anyone,

wanted to catch sight,

of a rest day Canuck,

or two,

it’s my guess,

that a trip,

to the aquarium,

might have been,

in order…

Me,

I’m spending,

this fertile time,

preparing,

for two full days,

of repeatedly,

giving birth,

to a breech baby,

with a cloth umbilicus,

through all those layers,

of memories,

for the good,

of the whole…

Don’t ask me how,

just know,

that I’ll be,

getting it done,

properly,

AND back in business,

well in time,

to race track,

with the next opponent,

whomever,

that may be…

And if I can do my part,

so can you,

because,

taking it,

to the limit,

this time,

isn’t optional…

Now,

the only,

burning question,

remaining,

is who’s going,

to ensure,

the smoke house,

is good and ready,

for when,

the Orca sings,

her victory song…

Give me the beat boys...