12 December 2009

Evil Ball Whipping Wind of Canada

Woke up refreshed this morning. Could not get out of bed fast enough. I left Sonja lying there, dreaming of our next vacation. Let the dog out into the cold before I had even put clothes on. The north wind kissed my dangling gear with its frozen whip as I opened and then quickly slammed the door closed. The evil ball whipping wind of Canada at my door.

Sonja has been recovering from her vacation injuries (more on that later) so I had chores to do. Dishes were piled up, caked with cheese, chicken and wine. I piled them into the dishwasher. A second load would have to be cleaned later. Newspapers, piled higher than the dishes, had to be stuffed into blue bags. That is about all our local newspapers are good for - keeping the low paid motherfuckers at the recycling depot in a job. The fireplace had to be cleaned out and wood brought in to warm us as we watch the snow pile in drifts the way Theo Fleury dreams of great piles of cocaine laid in rails on the taut tummies of anonymous puck bunnies.

That done, the Hammer and I strolled to the park. On the way we met the newest dog in the neighbourhood, a cute little fuzzy with a Christmas bow on its neck. The Hammer and the fuzzy exchanged phone numbers in anticipation of a little humpy-humpy down the road. At the park my dog ran around, did her shitting and ran around some more. I kept my hands in my pockets, closed my eyes and dreamt of Mexico.

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