There really isn't anything more satisfying than spending a few hours with a good book. One of the things I love is that when you put your book down for the evening, after spending a few hours completely engrossed, it has the most wonderful effect of keeping you out of your full reality for hours. Things as routine as washing dishes or going for a short walk, one you've taken dozens of times, lends itself to being a completely different experience. You see things that you may have looked at time and time again with a fresh set of eyes, and you notice light a different way...and you smell things that you wouldn't normally smell. It's as if the ordinary becomes the extraordinary when taking the time to read and get lost in the pages of a good story. It's something television doesn't do. I forget sometimes just how much I love to read.

Wrigley's Extra Peppermint Gum
Why has Wrigley gone and changed it's Extra Peppermint Gum? The package says "Improved Flavour", but it now has a hint of cinnamon and hand soap. Not that I go around eating hand soap...but it's almost like that purple Thrills gum. I've been buying Extra Peppermint Gum for decades. It always brings me memories of going on holidays and I could chew the same piece of gum for hours on end...much to Ron's chagrin. I sent Wrigley an email asking why they change it...but I have a feeling that the question will go unnoticed. Sort of like when I wrote to Carnival Cruise Lines and told them that their "Carnival Spirit" had a big 'ol rust stain under the anchor. Several weeks later they paint the big 'ol rust stain and never an email in return. It would have been nice to have had someone in their customer service department send me a "Thank you for your email" email...or even a free Alaska cruise for me and my spouse...but no....big fat hairy NOTHING. I'm expecting the same thing from Wrigley. So where do I go for my gum needs? Trident? Blech.

Crappy Starbucks!
What's up with Starbucks charging $0.45 extra for soy? I asked the blonde baristicrappa and was told that it's because Starbucks uses premium soy products in their coffees. Premium? PREMIUM? Um....no. Nice try. Acually...not even a nice try. I only drink soy milk and whole regular moomoo milk is more expensive than soy. I guess we'll have to add Starbucks (Starblechs) to the boycott list. Ms. Blondy McBaristacrappa also dismissed me by saying that she would look into it. I think I may have to break my boycott and go back just to see if she did or not. THEN I'll make a scene.
Humph!

New "As-Close-To-A-Raw-Food-Diet" Cat Food + 1 Old English Sheepdog = Disaster!

Behnsen found Maxine and Winifred's food yesterday.

Ron and I came home last night and usually Behnsen greets us at the door. This wasn't the case last night as we were well into the house making loud comments of "Boy I'm so glad we have a guard dog" and "I'm breaking into this house. How nice there isn't a dog", only to have his face eventually peer around the corner of the kitchen. We both thought that he was sleeping downstairs as it was a warm day and the basement is cool. We really didn't think anything of it. So we leashed B up and went off to the park for a run.

After about 30 minutes in the park, B showed signs of having had enough so we re-leashed him and proceeded home. Once we made it to the sidewalk B coughed and had a little pukey. Again, we didn't think anything of it and we figured that he must have just eaten before we arrived home earlier.

When we arrived home I made my way to the office to check email and passed by Max & Winnie's bowl that Ron had only just filled the night before. We have recently put Max & Winnie on a new diet of this new "As-Close-To-A-Raw-Food-Diet" Cat Food. However, the bowl was empty. Nary a kibble left. So with the exclamation of "Uh-Oh" I take the bowl to show Ron. Ron made the same exclamation as I did along with "Well we know who the culprit is!"

We had no idea what the consequences were going to be.

An hour or two later, as we were settling in for the evening to watch a little TV, B had a good sized bottom burp. Normally they are pretty bad, especially when you hear them. Nothing could have forewarned us of exactly how bad it was going to be.

I hearken back to a trip made back to Ottawa several years ago for Christmas when Ron, my Sister Catharine, her Boyfriend Dave and I stopped by a friends' place for a visit. Catharine's friend has a bulldog named Hugo. Keep in mind that Ottawa winters are about the harshest they come, so when we arrived and all the windows and doors were open we thought it rather strange. Upon entering the house we were assailed with what I thought was the overwhelming pungence of skunk. I thought that a skunk had wandered through the house and sprayed. It was clandestinely horrible. We learned quite soon after that Hugo was indeed the culprit and throughout the evening made a few entries into his self authored fart-journal of HELL.

Back to last night. I can really only describe it as indescribable. At one point I almost burst into tears it was so bad. If Union Carbide's accident in Bhopal contained only trace amounts of what B was emitting last night then far more people would have died. It wasn't enough that the smell was so bad, but with a fan blowing and the windows open, we couldn't keep up. No sooner had the smell gotten to a manageable level (manageable being "the nausea has subsided for the moment but it still smells like I am standing at the landfill site where all the rotten eggs go"), but B lets out another. I think that's why Ron went to bed early. It was the only way he could cope.

I took B out for his last walk before retiring and, sure enough, some the binged food had made it's way through his system. Not a pretty sight either. Sufficed to say we had to have a little clean up before going back into the house.

After ensuring that the cat food was secured in a place that B couldn't get at, we went to bed. I had the foresight to turn the fan on and leave the window open as a precaution.

Again, I had no idea that I had not even gone through half of my Hell. All night long B let 'em rip. At one point Ron got up and retrieved some room spray which, although the best of intentions were there, the smell of Satan's breath mixed with Gardenia isn't any better than Satan's breath on it's own.

6:30am comes very quickly when one's only had about 40 minutes of good sleep. I think maybe it wasn't sleep at all. Rather it was being overcome by noxious fumes to the point of being reduced into a partial coma.

After our standard workday morning routine, I was in the kitchen in search of breakfast to bring along to work. Nothing was to be had so I ventured off to the basement in search of something from the pantry. I didn't know I was about to walk into Hell itself.

The smell hit me first, followed by the visuals of ponds of Satan's saliva. I guess B, in his discomfort, found refuge in the basement in order to relieve the pressure. The poor lamb...I really can't fault him. Satan's saliva, the three ponds of it on the brown psychedelic carpet in the basement, came with the smell a thousand times worse than what we experienced last night. I find myself wanting to cry just thinking about how bad it was. We did what we could to clean it up but the reality is that we will need to have a HAZMAT team in to properly dispose of the carpet as I think it now has a half life of 10,000 years. So Ron and I gagged and coughed while we cleaned up as best we could, followed by immediately changing clothes and running a load of laundry. All the while B lay at the top of the stairs peering down with a look of revulsion and quiet meditation.

I only hope that we've seen, and smelled the last of this ordeal. I don't know if I could go through it again. I doubt B has learned any kind of lesson, but I know we have. Don't let B near the cat food!

Shudder.

I honestly think that skunks talk to fairies.
Now you might think this weird but on my walk with B this evening, I heard what could only be described as a giggling fairy voice being carried by the winds. It stopped me dead in my tracks. The voice stopped with our movement and there was a silence that made me stop and think that I was imagining things. But before we started walking I heard the most innocent giggle and bubbly giggly noise from just in front of us. Not knowing what it was I froze and made B sit down beside me. Then out from the bottom of a shrub no more than 5 feet away, wobbled out a skunk chattering and giggling away. He/She crossed the street and on their merry little way all the while giggling and chatting in the funniest little voice. B was as mesmerized as I was and didn't make a sound during this whole affair. He didn't growl or make a single effort to move. Maybe he recognized the skunk for what it was. Or perhaps he was lured by the beguiling fairy voice held on the late summer breeze. In any event, the fairies were out last night and keeping our new friend highly entertained.

Pet Peeve #568,890,772C: People that wear their knapsacks in confined areas. If you are in a store, take your knapsack off your back. If you are in a bus, take your knapsack off. If you are in confined spaces, take your knapsack off. Seriously...if someone else thwacks me by his or her bloody knapsack again I'm going to go postal.

Listening to Philip Glass's "Thirteenth Dalai Lama" through my new headphones is wonderful. I've only ever heard it through my crappy computer speakers and never really loud enough to catch all of the nuances. We picked up some earbuds over the weekend and I am totally enjoying my music again.
Happy.