Good evening all:

Weekly Wisdom from the Canadian North Woods:

”Grease nipples from Canadian Tire are the best, eh? No, they’re not made any better, but they’ll sell you one nipple at a time.” — a local everyman we’ll name Claire

Getting ready for Father’s day? By the time you read this I will be on the road as we’re spending it at the cabin in the North Woods. Right now I need some java bad since the heat and the loading of the truck are doing a number on me.

Apple and the Omom – Having grandkids that either are talking or beginning to try and wrap their tongues around a series of sounds adults use to communicate is serious fun. For example look at Dinah. She’s about as bright as anyone gets. Her little mind takes in everything observed, processes it, and then wants to discuss it all at once. That is where the problem comes in. There is so much information streaming around that to discuss it all means that a shortcut has to be taken. In her case it is much faster to just say the middle part of a word and just drop the front and back end.

Little Vaioleti has just begun to embark on her speech path. She will have complete conversations, complete with intonation, and no one has a clue. However, there are words which mom, dad, Marcia (oma), and I (opa) understand completely. It took a while but now we understand. Opa is Apple. Oma is Omom. See how simple it all is?

Loo – I am extremely concerned about the overall status of the septic system at the cabin. To date it’s been perfect—no issues whatsoever. But, what that also takes into consideration is that two dainty (read “low volume”) characters have made use of the facilities. Shortly that will all change dramatically.

Shortly we’ll be invaded by a horde of family members, ten to be exact. Out of the ten, five will be small fry. And it’s the little ones who have all sorts of potty issues. All kids do. A certain exact amount of paper (TP gloves no less), seat inserts, no previous user in recorded history, double flush, no flush, no folded corners or rough tear on the roll, and on it goes.

Since we’re home for this past week I have been stewing on the loo issue and believe I have a workable solution. This week I have been stashing all copies of the New York Times and the Wall Street Journal. Each copy has been carefully folded in half, and then folded sideways twice over; after which I walked around with each copy under my arm for fifteen minutes to set the ‘shape’.

Whenever a kid starts to tug on an adult’s kneecap with that certain “gotta go” type of tug they’ll be handed a newspaper of choice and then pointed towards the nearby woods. Voila, school summer reading mandates—done. Proper adult private behavior—instilled. “Save the Septic” matters—managed.

At the end of the week I will take a count of all remaining newspaper copies. In this way I’ll get a great ‘read’ of the liberal vs. conservative inclinations of the next generation. What a bonus!

Twilight Zone – This week I got word from some family members passing through the Twilight Zone; stuck in a line that snaked past various booths manned by Customs Officials. Forced to stand and wait for their turn to come, wait for the unknown. Standing much like Vinnie-the-cat will stand and stare at a door with some vague hope of it magically opening.

On the surface, in this line, everything looks like life in America. But, somehow you get the distinct feeling that you’ve been transported into another dimension, an eerie reality, that is light years away from the life you know in the real world.

The life you know with freedoms, smiles, interaction, creativity, laughter, joy, all of which are at the core of our national culture disappears. The reason why people the world over come here to American fades into a grey psychologically twisted mist. Like Vinnie-the-cat, our family members were relegated to sitting quietly, staring blankly ahead, with the hope that magically a gate would open.

The abusive treatment they experienced does make one wonder where we’ve gone wrong. Maybe the Customs Officials themselves are stuck in the same twilight zone. Maybe for them too the clock’s hands have stopped while time ticks by, and their own way out is impossible. Maybe, ever so slowly, they are being transformed into zombie-like Post Office Workers.

Next time Marcia and I are forced to travel through this ‘zone’, I’ll make sure to stop by Flukes Lumber on the way and stock up on wooden stakes.

Animal Planet – We’re ready to head out and explore the animal planet further. Back here in the ‘Nati our nesting pair of Red Tailed Hawks have either one or two little ones. They have taken to wing but scream continuously for mom or dad to feed them. Great to watch, tiresome to hear.

Make it a great week everyone. To all you dads out there have a super Father’s Day. This goes especially to Vince, Jason, and Tevita. I actually already celebrated mine with a glass of wine and a superb salmon and chicken dinner at Adrianne and Tevita’s. Thanks Cathy for the most excellent and tasty Blueberry cobbler desert. Wow, what a treat.

Cheers,

Dirk