King George Otherwise Known As The Black Cat Caper

26 June 2019
958

R. Linda:

I heard about this and just couldn't not share it. We all know Weasil to be the spoiled skinny rich kid right? Well, he be passing it on to his kiddos. Last week it was his daughter's birthday, you will remember her, the mad scientist of the family, anyway, I think she just turned eight or nine or maybe its ten or twelve, I don't keep up the Weasil brood to be perfectly honest, BUT for her birthday she was gifted with a rather expensive and inappropriate (in me eyes) gift. It seems the Weasil bought his wife (Amanda Panda - you remember her?) a rather expensive tennis bracelet for HER birthday. It seems he had floated around for weeks not knowing what to get 'Manda' since she pretty much buys what she wants. I was told this was Wolfie's suggestion (and he'll live to rue the day he even thought of such a suggestion).Weasil, thinking it was a good idea went out and bought the sparkly, had it gift wrapped, tagged and upon Manda's birthday presented it.

Well, Ms. Manda was thrilled, as any woman might be, but even more interested in the sparkly item was the small fry daughter (who's name escapes me because the parents named both their prodigy strange not memorable names), who immediately wanted a mother/daughter gift of same.

She made Amanda's birthday a living hell whining that she should have been gifted on her mother's big day as well because why? Because simply put SHE'S THE DAUGHTER AFTER ALL! Well, Mr. Weasil's life became an irritating mess of sorts every time he encountered the mad scientist of a daughter. He informed her that the reasons she wasn't gifted with a "prezzie" was because for 1, it wasn't her birthday, 2, a diamond tennis bracelet wasn't a gift for small fry, 3, she'd take the stones out and analyse them, and 4, NO!

His resolve was met with the daughter's resolve and the two went round and round on the subject every time she encountered her harassed father. I thought it was pretty funny meself, that the Weasil was getting a taste of his own medicine.

It turns out Weasil has no resolve, and his daughter won out. Yes, she did. So last week upon her birthday, Weasil presented her with a duplicate of her mother's bracelet but with less stones (which I surmise saved him a small fortune, not that it matters). Well, the little twerp (because that be what ungrateful spoilt children be) was not happy she didn't have as many sparkles as her mum's bracelet.

Not tolerating THAT behaviour, the Weasil chose to ignore her complaints and went on with his life as only Weasil can. HOWEVER, the daughter feeling slighted decided she didn't need an inadequate diamond tennis bracelet and so a week later after all complaining stopped, both Weasils noticed the silence coming from their daughter which was highly unusual because she be like a dog worrying a bone when she's rattled at something. Not to mention the absence of said bracelet -- nowhere to be seen, hum.

Discussing the sudden silence of complaints the two Weasils decided to hesitantly ask the daughter about the offending bracelet. This was answered with a silent shrug of the shoulders indicative of "I dunno."

"What do you mean you don't know?"Asked her mum.

"I don't. I haven't seen it since . . . "

"Since when?" Weasil asked rather mystified.

"Since King George had it."

Both Weasil's mouthed "King George" and looked at each other confused.

"WHO is King George?" Mum asked very much perplexed that dead royalty was in the house somewhere and no one notified her. I tell ya!

"Since that cat was here a week ago." Was the churlish answer.

"What cat?" Weasil asked knowing perfectly well he didn't own a cat.

"The black cat, you know the stray, I called him King George."

"What does a stray cat have to do with a missing bracelet?" Her mum asked.

"Well . . . " and here was a very long, long, long pause and lots of rolling of the eyes, heavy sighs, and looking anywhere but at the two grown ups standing over her.

"Well?" Weasil prompted.

"It was a lovely cat it was . . . "

"AND?" Mum pushed.

"And, it looked so glorious and kingly wearing the bracelet round its neck . . . "

Oh the cold chills that must have run down her parents backs as they slowly realised what was being said.

"Kitty's black coat was so shiny and silky and the diamonds just made her . . . or him, look so . . . so . . . stunning!" This last said with a huge toothy smile like a light bulb had gone off and yes, that was it, kitty looked stunning! Why not?

Neither Weas nor Manda could speak, they both stood looking at the daughter with their mouths agape in disbelief as would you or I.

Well, King George has not been seen, expensive bracelet be gone for good along with the cat. Heavens knows! He or she, be probably flaunting the new collar somewhere or as Weasil suggested being chased by gypsies for that collar a sure loss and heirloom that will never be. Oh welly, as the Weasil came to say in typical Weasil fashion.

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

All in a weekends work

19 June 2019
957

R. Linda:

Well, there be nothing like a bunch of hens getting together over an upcoming marriage, no, not Sean's he has left the building! Ha ha, gone with the wind, over the seas, over river and dale back to Ireland he did go. No, this be a school marm, I know it isn't a nice word, but me Mam uses it in reference to anyone who teaches kiddos. This be a close friend of Tonya's and being Tonya is the matron (a word Tonya doesn't like, says it makes her sound very old) of honour, the "girls" and I use that term loosely, have been congregating in me kitchen planning the event.

The only good thing about this, be that they all bring food and well . . .

It never dawned on me that besides stealing goodies off the kitchen counter when they weren't looking, I'd be roped into becoming an honourary hen. NEVER entered me mind, no, no, no! BUT, last week Tonya had to be at a prior appointment she couldn't get out of, and the hens were all meeting at this quaint little bistro for lunch to discuss THE upcoming nuptials. That was when yours truly got roped into being Tonya's substitute, the eyes and ears if you will of the Matron of Honour.

I asked her why not me Mam, who was standing in the room at the time and quickly informed me she wasn't available.

"Why aren't you available? What could you possibly being doing on a Sunday afternoon?"

"Why I be takin' care o' the kiddos, I am." Said she nervously.

"I could do that!"

"Nooo, ye con't. Ben be coomin' o' fer me to mend some socks."

I looked at her in disbelief. Right, that was silly talk, she could mend socks anytime, and really socks? There was no talking her into going in me stead, and the reason she told me privately was that one or two of the hens "jus' ain't me cuppa tea."

Great! So there I was last Sunday, all dressed up and on me way over dirt roads to the little house in the woods for a five course meal and having to sit and listen to hens cluck. I was certainly looking forward to the food though.

I arrived and got the last parking space by the bistro, actually I was there first and Hedda (one of the hens),  I knew had seen that space at last minute, but I beat her to it. I know, very ungentlemanly of me, but once I be fed I don't want to walk a mile to me car on a full stomach. Yeah it's a man thing.

So the dinner bell hadn't rung (yes they ring this farm bell when the last sitting be over and everything be ready for the next), so I had to stand outside with the "girls." Hedda mentioned the parking space and I pretended like I hadn't seen her, inwardly laughing to meself and congratulating me on me having big feet and a fast gas petal. I had noticed Hedda was wearing a very short dress, if you can call it that, made of scarf material. Hedda be built like a beetle this rounded shape on top with spindle-like legs. The outfit looked like beachwear, but who am I to criticise? Denise, one of the brides maids, was also dressed like she was at a beach party, with sun backed mini in startling colours and she had gained some weight! Probably all those goodies on me kitchen counter every Tuesday took their toll. Standing between them I felt like I should have worn shorts and sandals. But I was saved by the third member of the bridal party, Kellianne who had on capris with a flowey top. Not bad, but I was over dressed along with everyone else waiting for that chow bell to ring. The fourth member couldn't make it and I had to wonder why her husband wasn't forced to go in her stead, why just me? Finally the bride to be came walking up looking like a million bucks in a long dress quite appropriate for dinner out.

I be picky about this because I did not want to be there, so bear with me whining and being a bit of a pratt.

Finally, the bell rang and we eventually got to our table. I noticed from Ms. Manners (you remember that afternoon long ago I took some child to the manners session since her parents couldn't make it?), well it wasn't for nothing, I remembered you put your napkin on your lap, but apparently that memo never came to Hedda. Her napkin stayed on the table the entire time. The best was that during the soup she spilt a few drops on the edge of the tablecloth and later when she went to wipe her mouth, she used the tablecloth smearing the soup and her fuchsia lipstick all over her mouth and the tablecloth! Yes indeed, where did she come from? And, I had the added pleasure of sitting next to her looking like a clown. I noticed no one in the hen group bothered to tell her what she looked like. Sigh.

Listening to them, I was not hopeful Hedda would do all the things she said she would. Her attention was  distracted by everyone in the room and outside it! At one point, I think it was the salad course, she blurts out loudly, "OH SHIT!" and everyone in the room and the room adjacent turned around and looked at us. She had seen her ex boyfriend's new girlfriend sitting outside. I wanted to crawl under the table. In her distraction she handed me the Italian bread sticks which was top-heavy, tilting it unconsciously because she was too busy looking out the window, and the bread roll fell in me lap (luckily I had my napkin placed so no garlic and grease stains), and as she tried to catch it, it went to the floor. So this big bread stick was under me feet the entire lunch.

That's not all, I be sorry to have to say. There was a cracker basket with a spicy jalapeño spread that was served once we were seated. It had a cheese knife for spreading and she used it a few times, so why she took me meat knife from me place setting and used that to spread the spread, I just don't know! When me enter' arrived I was about to ask the waitress for a new knife, but someone came up to ask her where the restrooms were and that was that, so I took me knife back from Hedda's bread and butter dish and was cutting into me Chicken Marsala, taking a bite of that mixed with spicy jalapeño spread. Oh yum, NOT! I tell ya! She be a walking and sitting disaster. Everyone else just sat there like she wasn't part of the group.

The bride-to-be tried several times to steer the conversation to her wedding plans, but Hedda wasn't having it. She got up twice to go call her boyfriend about her ex-boyfriend's girlfriend. This set us back in courses as you can well imagine and we were the last to finish!

I left for home having accomplished nothing for Tonya but my stomach was full!

When I got home I had time to relax a bit before the wife arrived all wanting to know what she had to do for the bride. I reluctantly took her through the whole five courses of Hedda drama and told her that was that.

"I did try. I brought up the blended colour brides maid dresses like you suggested and no one said anything. So then I got that Pinterest app where there were pictures of dresses, just like you told me too, and they glanced and shrugged. I mean I didn't know what else I could have done. The only thing I do know be no wedding shower, the bride stated it was her second marriage, she had all she needed and didn't want to appear as one of those greedy brides. But Hedda was all about a bachelorette party and it sounded kinda weird and I be not sure Liz (the bride to be) was liking the ideas Hedda put forth, like strippers and . . . so that's it." I said cringing, because Tonya's eyes had narrowed to slits and the expression on her face was less than satisfied.

"I knew it!" She blurted. "Leave it to Hedda to make it all about her. Who cares if her ex's girlfriend was there, really? What is wrong with her she has to be the focus of attention?"

"I dunno." I said meekly.

Well, I'd like to say that was the last of Hedda for a wee bit, but no, no, no. The very next day, she went to her ex's with plants to dress up his house with. WHY be a good question. It seems she got herself besotted with beer after the jaunt to the restaurant in the woods and continued to drink herself into oblivion the next day, missing work, but lurching to the plant nursery and picking up things to plant to "pretty up" his abode. HE wasn't at home and had no clue she was about the place. I can imagine his surprise upon returning and seeing all the colourful flowers that weren't there when he left. Anyway, this does not have a happy ending. No indeed it does not! Having brought along a six pack of beer to get her "creative juices flowing," she decided there wasn't enough dirt to plant with (I know how be THAT possible?). So, she saw that her ex had loam in the back of his very large truck bed. Being short she couldn't get up into it nor was there a step ladder to climb to get to it, SO instead she took an old rickety wheelbarrow and slanted it up on the truck and propelled her beetle body up the wheelbarrow, which being old and rickety, came apart and down she came after almost nearing the top, slicing her calf open and exposing the muscle. Yup!

And there she lay, bleeding and bloody on her back looking up at the sky with seemingly no one around sipping a beer. Except, for a neighbour who had been watching for his own amusement the lurching and drinking, and digging and then THE fall. He went out and called 911 to have her lifted away to hospital where she got thirty stitches.

The hens all rushed over to see her (she was sent home after being fixed up) and there she lay on her couch, leg up on a pillow, ankle and foot swollen, sipping what else, a beer! Pain killers and beer, yup she's a piece of work she is. After all the fussing and clucking over her, she interrupts the sympathy party and says, "I think I'll wear a short gown to your wedding, Liz. Show off the war scar."

Well, everyone paused, no one spoke, they all looked at poor Liz who was silently shaking her head, oh no you won't.

"You know I don't want to buy a gown, where would I wear it? Such a waste of  money."

I will let that sit with you as it did with the rest of the bridal party. Why none spoke up I do not know. I do know if Tonya had been there, she would have raised hell, but she unfortunately was dealing with family matters of a tamer nature at home. Boys you know, argues and barges and all that good stuff of having a teenager in the house with two smaller bros who want his attention and he doesn't want to give it. (Big sigh).

Just because I know you will ask, here be a pic of dessert. A chocolate ganache cheesecake with sea salted caramel.

Not as good as it looked 

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

Headless music, Alexa's chattering about nothing, and that Irish kid who can see ME!

02 June 2019
956

R. Linda:

Teenagers! This be O'Hare's first year as a teen, and it may be that we are all in for a whirl of a ride until he's 20. For the past two weeks I have been hearing music moving about the house, like it was floating in the air, first in the hallway, then in the loo, then downstairs in the living room, just all about the place. Headless music be what me Mam calls it.

Last Sunday she comes into the living room after dinner and whispers to me this: "I tink I be goin a bit off me head, dat or de be a ghost in da hoose."

This concerned me because it was her and me, she making sure no one else was coming to disturb us, and the way she looked all serious, well I was a tad alarmed.

"What you mean?"

"Well, jus' las' week I be hearin' dis headless music I be. I ere' it oopstairs and I ere' it in the back, I 'ere it ootside, I 'ere it down 'ere. I dunt new where it be a coomin' frum."

While telling me this in her low Irish accented whisper, her hands were working and she was ever so nervous and this made me nervous!

"Headless music?" I said more to meself, "OH disembodied you mean?"

"Ay dat." She said her eyes round like saucers. "Like floatin' on air!"

I touched her arm to calm her and I said gently that I too, have heard the headless music.

"Ye 'ave?" She said looking relieved.

"I'll tell you what, I will find out where it be coming from and YOU are not to worry."

Not only did I want to calm her fears it wasn't all in her head, but I was curious meself as to where this strange music was coming from. Sometimes it was the Star Wars theme and the first time I heard it I was about to yell at the boyos to turn down their music but it had gone by the time I opened me piehole, and I gave it no more mind. But now that I thought about it, I heard that same theme several times after, and not only that one, but the Pirates of the Caribbean theme music, the Game of Thrones theme music, and everything I think Hans Zimmer ever wrote. Power music be what I call it. You know those epic stirring, blast your ears off music, heavy on the kettle drums. I had been so busy I had not really paid much attention to the music until lately when I heard it all over the house and it wasn't always at the same volume. Its hard to explain, but I realised for someone who is home all day and be more attuned to the sounds in the house (meaning me Mam), this would be a cause for concern especially if she had no idea where it was coming from.

It was the next day, I was off from work, and I was sitting at my desk paying bills (oh yeah me fav thing to do . . . NOT), when in the distance wafting into me open window I hear the strains of Mission Impossible. Faint it was, and it was definitely outside. I looked out the window and saw no one and the music departed in the air and all was silent except the fir trees blowing in the breeze above.

I sat back down and about 20 minutes later I thought I heard music, this time accompanied by screaming. I got up quickly and ran in the direction of the screaming. What greeted me was the wee one covered in blood, he had cut his head falling off his bike, and you  know the head bleeds worse than any other body part. Tonya was already wiping him up. I didn't notice if there was music because of the unsettling sight, but it came to me later the music I heard was the theme to ER.

At lunch Tonya instructed the two older boys to clean their rooms and of course that demand was met with "Oh gee THATS a lotta work!" I had gone back to me desk and I heard that song (I don't know the title) but you can hear singing the words, "Work, work" and then something is said and the chorus comes back with "work, work" and I figured it was a commercial coming from the telly and thought no more of it.

Then it dawned on me. Only this morning at breakfast, O'Hare was told to go outside and bathe the dog. To this he argued it was impossible to bathe her because she wouldn't stay still. Mission Impossible? Hurt child in the loo being cleaned up to the theme of ER and O'Hare was there. Room cleaning and I'm hearing that work song. REALLY?

So I stopped by O'Hare's half arse cleaned room. I wanted to say what about the word clean don't you understand, but I didn't. Instead I said he looked like he needed a break and I knew I needed one, so why didn't he meet me outside and we do a little light sabre play. I wanted to test me theory that the music was somehow associated with O'Hare. I have not seen him with anything playing music, even in his room I saw no source of music.

I got Guido's light sabre and fired it up and swung a few arcs when I hear the Darth Vader music, you know that march from Star Wars. And here coming towards me dressed like Darth Vader is O'Hare. Dramatic? For sure. He throws off the cape and the helmet and lights up his sabre as the music gets more stirring. I looked to see where the music was coming from and I didn't see anything.

Before I could ask if he hears the music he be whacking me with the sabre. Trying to defend meself I had no time to ask anything. He's tall and he's quick and he's better with that thing than I will ever be, so the music played on in the air and I was busy trying to not fall over me big feet and keep him at bay. I lost me concentration when we grey-haired, apple cheeked little Mam came rushing down the deck stairs shouting at me if I heard the music.

I found meself falling backwards to the grass with Darth Vader standing over me, his sabre at me throat and me Mam bent over me talking about getting her hearing checked. Yup, fiasco. That's the only word for it. As Darth pulled up his sabre, turned the light off he laughed an evil laugh and proceeded indoors to (I assume) finish half cleaning his room. The music went with him, but where on his body it was coming from I had no clue.

"It's O'Hare Ma, nothing wrong with your hearing." I said getting up and brushing meself off. Yeah I was slightly humiliated to be found on the ground, but SHE wasn't focused on me, SHE was still fearing her mind was leaving her.

I made her come with me to O'Hare's room where we stood in the doorway listening to the strains of The Dark Knight Triumphant. Was there any doubt now? He was the dark knight triumphant from his vanquishing of ME and there he was moving about his room throwing dirty clothes from the floor into a hamper, all the time the music building. The smile on his face he won the sabre battle was telling.

"O'HARE!" I shouted over the building crescendo, "TURN WHATEVER THAT IS OFF!"

He reached in his back pocket for his IPhone and flipped it off and looked at us like WHAT?

"So you are the musical mystery tour that's been drifting around the house with music coming out of your back pocket?"

"DUH." He said with a smile.

"There ya go Mam, its him and his phone, mystery solved."

"Gotcha." Says she shaking her fist at him and him looking innocent as the day he was born.

If that wasn't enough, I went into the living room to watch the midday news and the anchor was going on about Alexa being "on" all the time and hearing and recording everything. Our Alexa (who isn't far from the telly) was talking up a storm. I couldn't hear what the anchor was saying but she sure could and whatever it was she was sassing him back. She ended her tirade with a "well then!" and her light went out and she was done. But then he said, "Alexa . . ." and she lit right back up and started yammering at him again. Between them, I had no clue what was going on so I turned the telly off and was going to say something to her, but she was busy reciting a sonnet about a summers day. I just shook me head and left her to it.

Have you ever felt like you have no control over the electronic devices in your house? We have too many electronic gadgets thanks to the varying interests of the kiddos. You know I ignore Siri, because she doesn't like me and I don't like her. I have as a result been more favourable towards Alexa. But in time Alexa has become this mouthy sort who doesn't always answer me what I want, but gives me lectures on how to address her "nicely" or she'll shut off. Happens A LOT.

Even me grey-haired apple cheeked little Mam whispers to me if we are in a room within earshot of Alexa. Its got to where I feel like Big Brother be listening and I live in the dark ages where one misspoken word can have you hung and quartered. It be a state of constant stress but little I can do about it because everyone in the abode is ADDICTED to their electronic gadgets.

One last complaint and I'll stop and this far outweighs any Alexa or Siri complaints. O'Hare is a gamer I be sorry to say. He spends a lot of time with one gamer in Ireland in particular. This person has a mohawk that each day be a different colour. This person, chatters on insensately about NOTHING. He must like the sound of his own voice because he never stops. So imagine me surprise to be sitting at me desk trying to get some work done and down the hall droning on and on and on be this Irish gamer laughing at his own jokes and being annoying. I had enough so I went down the hall to find no O'Hare, and found he wasn't even in the room. The idiot was busy talking to himself just running his mouth. I stood there looking over all the controls wondering how you shut this guy up. As I be standing there fiddling with controls that aren't doing a thing to wipe that screen clear of his chattering face, he suddenly stops and is looking at his screen and says, "Hey eejit don't touch the controls we are in the middle of a game."

I paused, stood there, consternation I be sure written all over me face at the confusion that I think I have just been addressed personally by an Irishman with a controller, who be over the pond and not in the same room with me.

"Yeah YOU," he said, as I looked at the screen and pointed to meself like a proper fool.  "Yeah, I be talkin' ta you!"

"WHAT you can see me?" I blurted out utterly surprised out of me mind.

"Hells yeah I can see you. We are in the middle of a game and if you touch anything you could send us back to the beginning and we have achieved level 100036!"

Oh boy. Where was that control? I started with renewed vigour trying to find which one would shut his snotty face off. I didn't care if they were on level 1 million 32, he was toast. But just as I found the right clicker O'Hare comes in loaded down with snacks and drinks, enough to feed a small army. He near dropped it all on the floor as he ran over to snatch the control out of me hands and yells, "NO!"

Laughter from the screen and then a barrage of Gaelic and O'Hare flips his microphone on and answers him . . . in Gaelic!

"You . . . YOU know Irish?" I asked totally impressed and pissed at the same time. I grew up in Ireland and I don't know it, but this kiddo of MINE knows it! How be that possible? Well, seems the good for nothing on the other end of the game, has been teaching him. Oh yeah and not all of it be conversational Gaelic, but loaded down with (I be sure) mostly curses. UGH!

So now I can't walk past the open door of O'Hare's room without his constant Irish companion, waving at me and saying a few Gaelic sentences as I move on. Yeah. Is it Skype he's got now, or some other set up that these two can see each other? This sharp eyed gaming demon has so made my walking by O'Hare's room a cringing nightmare that I go all the way around the other side of the house to get to me office.

Book me into a wellness centre will ya R. Linda?

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

Wild Times In Me Own Head!

29 May 2019
955

R. Linda:

I knew I had to get rid of the thing in the cellar. I also knew it was dangerous if turned on, but at the time I didn't think to remove it switched off. Even if I did, I don't know where I would have removed it to. It was all metal, painted a matte black and it had to be near 7 feet tall. I thought if I started to take it apart it might switch on and then I'd be in real trouble.

It was Weasil's idea to go down there, switch it on and run for our lives. I don't know why I thought that was a good idea, but that's what we did.

He switched the giant on, I could hear a grinding sound and small sparks flew here and there.

"RUN! RUNNIE FER YUR LIFIE!" Weasil shouted running toward the bulkhead and safety outside. The thing was in front of me chugging to electronic life and I had to run the other way, up the stairs in order to save meself. And that's what I did, as soon as that giant robot started to move I sprinted up the stairs and threw the door behind me shut only it was an old wooden latch door and it swung open behind me. I knew I was in me grandmother's cellar and the house was old and she had latch doors still. I went up three stairs and pulled open the door to the upstairs, and I threw that shut behind me but that didn't close either. I could hear the mechanical monster moving in me direction and I just knew somehow it could walk up stairs!

I ran for the back door and realised I was in me old abode. How did me grandmother's cellar get in me old abode? I had no idea nor time to think about it so I drove meself out the back door, down the porch steps to where I could see Weasil signalling me with his arm to fly his way. I did hesitate for all of three seconds taking in the yard in the dark. What happened to the woods, where'd they go? It looked like an empty dirt parking lot. Noting the "yard" I ran towards Weasil and we both took off like bats out of hell down the dirt driveway to a lighted area down by the street lamp lighted road, where I saw it was a car rental business, still open at 11 at night. There were people getting into a rental with an agent helping them. That I remember and a quick thought of the monster finding them flashed in me brain, but the inside light from a new car parked on the edge of the lot caught me eye and me dread thoughts.

Weasil had whipped open the back door of a new silver coupe and was telling me to get in the front passenger side. I went around and opened the door but the front seat was forward and he had to help me get it in seating position. All I can remember be me nerves shaking me body as I tried to hurry, me hands fumbling with the seat, me heart pounding in me throat, because I didn't want that 'thing' to find us. I noted the brown leather seats and the new car smell and realised then and there we were stealing a car!

From the left side backseat there was a steering wheel and Weasil had put the motor in gear and we set off screeching tyres down the road in the opposite direction of the 'thing'. It did occur to me how odd it was to have a driving column in the backseat but me mind was taken up with the death and destruction we let loose.

"We need to go to the police and tell them that thing be loose." I said as I white knuckled it as Weasil drove on like a speed racer out of control.

"We can't do that Gabby, we just stole a car!" Weasil threw at me.

OMG we did! We stole a car off a lot and let loose on humanity a monstrous machine capable of destroying anything in its path. Why did we do that? I was in a muck sweat but felt overheated at the same time. It was then I woke up, me heart pounding, the sweat pouring off me as I threw the blankets off me and Tonya.

"What the hell?" She said feeling the sudden chill.

"Sorry, bad dream." I said and threw the blankets over her as I got out of the bed to walk around and shake off the terror. I don't know why I had that dream R. Linda. I hadn't any spicy food to set off those night terror dreams I be so famous for. What the monster signified I had notta clue, and being with Weasil was the only thing that made sense since if this were real, this adventure would certainly be up Weasil's alley.

Why me old abode was featured along with me grandmother's cellar, be a true puzzlement. And the monster, who built it, where did it come from and why was it of a malevolent nature? And worse how did it come to rest in ME house?

All this had me making a cuppa in the kitchen at 3 in the morning as the house slept on. It took me an hour of deep thought, but I think it had to do with Donald Trump, the monster in the basement who suddenly be elected president and me worry over his destructive policies entering into me dream. I thought Weasil because he was at first telling me Trump should be elected until later he changed his mind as he watched and experienced in his own country the Brexit donnybrook and gave me a prophecy that bothered him much that Nigel Farage would be elected Prime Minister one day SOON. He had sheepishly told me I was right, Clinton would have been a better alternative, yet Sanders would have been a better one because of his socialist leanings. I had argued socialism would be the demise of capitalism and he just shook his head reminding me I was brought up in a socialist nation until I left for here. It was only the day before I had this discussion with him and I had to wonder if it influenced me to dream.

I literally shook all this off and went back to bed, dream over, time for quality sleep BUT THAT DIDN'T FREAKING HAPPEN! No sooner had me head hit the pillow I couldn't sleep for the terror of the dream came back and I felt the need to get up and just walk it off, but I knew dare I move, Tonya would wake up and she wouldn't be pleased. I squeezed me eyes closed and I said the Lord's Prayer over and over hoping it would put me to sleep.

When I was a wee tyke me Mam made me and me sissy say our prayers before we went to bed, and every night I fell asleep in a kneeling position and had to be lifted into bed by me Da. I know respect and all that but I was always knackered by bedtime and to this day if I say that prayer in church I start to nod. I know, a source of embarrassment especially to me Mam if we are in a crowded church. Anyway, it didn't work, for the first time in me religious life notta nod came me way UNTIL, I heard something in the cellar. It chugged and then roared to life and I lay there me body stiffening with fright. I couldn't move, I was frozen listening to it get louder and I swear it sounded like it was moving. I was staring at the ceiling and thought I could hear better if I closed me eyes. Sure enough it sounded like it was moving, moving towards the stairs. Me terror paralysed me and suddenly I was thrown back in that strange stolen car, Weasil at the wheel in the backseat, me white knuckling the dash as he drove wildly and it was then when being thrown back in me seat as we flew, yes R. Linda, FLEW over a huge pot hole, the young whippersnapper throwing all caution to the wind and taking pot hole after pot hole in that manner . . . it was then I noticed Bran Stark sitting in the passenger seat where the steering wheel SHOULD have been. He was huge! He was wrapped in that pelt collared cape and he was looking at me.

"WHAT?" I blurted out at his constant stare.

"Do you have a cat?" He asked, calm as the sky when blue, quite the contrast to me stressed out state of fear induced from an over active imagination for sure!

I furrowed me brow, like WHAT but said, I did, in fact two.

"I have a cat." He said to me 'so what' look. "There are no cats where I live, the wolves eat them."

I was more confused as to why he was telling me this.

"So since I can't have two cats, I just rename the one I have." He said smugly.

"I DON'T CARE!" I shouted as we zoomed over a double pot hole coming down hard on the pavement, sparkes flashing up as we careened onto a bridge WHICH the top was open to let night ships through and that madman in the backseat was stepping on the petrol so we could jump it.

"My cat was named Harry Ignatius, but now he's Alice Plimpton." Bran said like I should know this, but I said nothing just glanced at him and then turned me full attention to the huge looming opening coming up fast as Weaz grunted with the petal to the metal and I felt lift and I grabbed onto the dash, gritting me teeth as airborne, I looked down at the huge gap, the black water roiling beneath and I started the Lord's Prayer. I felt the car shaking as it started coming apart, and I prayed with everything I had until I heard Tonya's voice, "GABE WAKE UP ITS ONLY A DREAM!"

I was groggy, I was still in that car thinking it with all of us in it were falling into that watery hole below, Bran going on about his cat and Weaz intent on steering as we fell down, down, down and suddenly before we hit the water I was fully awake listening to the sound that started all this. I realised the water system was renewing itself, it does that every three or four hours and THAT be what permeated me simpleton brain in a sleep state.

Just recently the system started acting up and I have to call the repair service. I'd been putting it off from sheer laziness, but after last night's violent trip to hell and back I called them first thing this morning.

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

A Bizarre Tale of a Mobile Scooter And A Man Named Bruce

25 May 2019

954

R. Linda;

I can think of nothing more exhilarating than speeding down a busy freeway on a mobility scooter as traffic hurtles past at 100km/h, can you? Well, I be about to inform you someone beat Weasil to that exciting drive to oblivion. Yes R. Linda, a 92 year old fellah from Melbourne, Australia took a trip he did. He might have been confused or maybe, just maybe he did it on purpose -- oh hell I be not going to make excuses for the man possibly mistaking a mobile scooter for an auto.

Crazy as it seems, it be true he ignored motorists waving and shouting out their windows for hm to pull over, but he was on a mission he was. No one could stop him until the police came along and well, seeing the error of his ways, he reluctantly came to a stop. Thankfully he stopped on the side of the road not in the middle of it, though I wouldn't have put it past him to stop in the slow lane. 

I will give, he was not a steady driver as he'd drive in the slow lane and a couple of times he occasioned onto the shoulder, than zig-zagging from one lane to the other, well I dunno R. Linda, that you nor I would do THAT, unless you were in a hurry to get to your destination and had no other way of getting there, OR, perhaps one be on the lam and took the first vehicle they could find, OR, maybe one were running away?

While everyone else on the Monash Freeway was doing a healthy 100kms our old boy was doing a sedate 15 on mobile scooter cruise control. See here:

Just crusin' along, singing a song . . .

A man named Bruce never expected such a bizarre encounter, as would none the rest of us, but lucky Bruce came up upon the old fellah while driving his Audi and filmed the whole of the wild ride on his dash cam.  He tried shouting out the window, "Move over. You're on the freeway . . . you're not supposed to be on the freeway." But the oldster yelled back (I be sure it was something naughty at Bruce) and kept tooling along.

Out of the slow lane to the service lane

Seeing this, Bruce was concerned for the oldster's welfare. He turned on his hazard lights and called the Victoria Police, who might have been slightly sceptical at first.

"I just told him to try and pull over and he told me to f*** off," Bruce told dispatch.

While Bruce be talking to dispatch the oldster decides to change lanes

"Ah F***ing hell, he's going back on the road again," an alarmed Bruce tells dispatch.

WOULD YA LOOK AT THIS - YIKES!

I'd say our old fellah be either very (and incredibly) brave or totally bunkers. Does this behaviour remind you of someone? It does me, Weasil would do something like this I think we both would agree.

Anyway, Dispatch asks for the colour of the scooter so the police can find it (LIKE WHATTT?). And Bruce tells them not without some frustration, "There's only one, they won't miss it."

The Dispatcher is now concerned for Bruce and tells him basically to take a caution but Bruce is more concerned for the oldster and tells them, "See if I go around him, he's going to get collected." You think?

Meanwhile:

Coming up in the service lane on the left of Bruce is . . .

Finally the old one has sense hit him and he realises the law has pulled up and he best stop. Yeah stopped when you HAVE someplace important to be if you can remember it, bummer pal!

Yup dealing Triple Zero paid off

It seems our old fellah had been reported gone missing by his family. You might think he was tooling away from them not really joy riding down the freeway? Well, if it was the former he was soon reunited with them again! I have a sneaking suspicion this was Weasil's granddaddy, has to be someone from the Weasil family.

All photos courtesy Bruce's dash cam

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

So . . . I wanna know WHERE the Iron Throne is at

14 May 2019 (but the weather says its 44th April)
953

R. Linda:

The last time I had wine with Cersei Lannister we were in the Red Keep in Kings Landing and she was sitting on the Iron Throne. SO after last Sunday's destruction, where is the freaking throne everyone is fighting over?

Last time I looked, Deanery's Targaryan had laid waste to not only the entire city of Kings Landing, but the Red Keep in particular. Not once did I, in viewing the destruction, see the Iron Throne, and if memory serves me correctly, not a stone was standing by the end of Deanery's fiery ride. So where is it?

It seems everyone has forgotten about this glaring matter. The one thing that has been the power focus no one but me cares about?

If the throne is in the rubble, how do the unsullied get it out? We are talking tall building reduced to dust and boulders, people with no machinery to lift and move them, so is the throne lost forever? Or, by some miracle is it just upended in a miraculous tumble or in a niche where the roof and walls missed it? Nah that would be too fantastic to be true and we know this series sticks to the real. That's a joke R. Linda.

Here's another thing that bothered me, please tell me that white horse that Arya rode out of the smashed city was not the horse that was dead at the first barrage where its Golden Company owner went down with it. The horse I saw lying down looked dead, not stunned. The horse Arya rode out on looked unscathed, just smeared with blood from its surroundings. So can't buy its the same horse, THOUGH it sure does look like it from its confirmation.

Notice Bridal 

Different bridal on Golden Company horse

Golden Company horse down and dead

Dothraki horses notice the bridals are like the one in the picture with Arya

The episode was disappointing in that Jamie had a wasted fight with Euron, I mean who cared. That he ended up in the cellar with Cersei to be crushed to death (maybe, just maybe . . . you never now, maybe the iron throne fell on top of them and saved them with an air pocket), wasn't how I saw either of them ending. I wanted to see the fire in Cercsi come out instead she was reduced to a teary, complaining child. Deanery's who I thought had a thicker skin turned into a monster just like the one she was Harry Pottering on. Too fast, too soon, too crazy for me to buy in.

The Cleghan bowl, equally as boring and I too wanted the Mountain to just die! The only one who's blood lust made sense to me was Grey Worm spearing everyone. His loss of Missandre was paramount in his mind, so his behaviour was understandable to me. Not that I condone killing innocents or anyone for that matter, it just made more sense why he did what he did.

Jon Snow is a wuss, is a wuss, is a wuss. And I'll let it go at that. Arya too, had me baffled. Here she was on her way to Kings Landing to reckon with Cersei. There she was pushing and shoving her way into the city with determination written all over her face only to be told by the Hound she didn't want to become like him where she turns and runs to get away and out of there. I was like did she take his words for meaning his looks, or what he was. Because it was crazy the sudden turn about. That she conveniently found the pale horse, was another HUH? For one thing after all the sound and thunder, that horse should have been a prancing mess and not wanting anyone to get near it. That it stood there was unique to say the least. How tiny Arya got on that big animal well, I guess she's nibble, if she can shape change I guess she can levitate too.

The last thing that baffled me was the green wildfire. What's the hint on that I wonder? Is that the only kind of fire that can burn a dragon and a Targaryan? Is that how you get rid of Daenarys and Drogan? Just why were we seeing the wildfire blow up in spots? We knew it was all over the city, but what is the significance?

Well, I have managed to depress meself again. So far for a bittersweet ending, I'm not there yet.

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

Dare I? Oh Yes I Dare

06 May 2019
952

R. Linda:

Not because I want to keep tempers flaring, but because I realised something, in all the years Games of Thrones has been on the telly, there hasn't been any dissension among fans until this last series. I have to think it be because the author hasn't finished his Thrones books, and perhaps in season 7 he was more involved in giving the show runners his perspective and what he had in mind. Perhaps season 8 be just too far afield in his thinking and he has not much to offer in way of story. He does want his books to be different than what someone else imagines and I can understand that. But I be of a mind, maybe the producers of the show should have waited for those last two books or at least the last one, before setting off on a show that has captured the imaginations of so many and could be bringing a successful show to an epic fail.

I was so very disappointed last night. I had even told a friend what I thought the episode would be about (a reset) and I was correct except for the deaths of the dragon and Missandei. And even those two events were like afterthoughts. An easy way to get rid of two more characters and give more reason to turn Dany into a mad Targaryan queen. It bothered me that Cersei had a clear shot at finishing her brother off and did not. She was so adamant about having Bronn finish both brothers and that bit Maggy the Frog gave her in warning that a little brother would put an end to her, well, she seems to believe it so why let Tyrion  walk?

I thought most everything contrived. Tormund going off with the direwolf was uh, not what I pictured his departure would be. Tormund, bombastic, loud, boisterous, bigger than life and there he was calmly leaving the scene. The poor dog! Or, Ghost! Tonya shed tears over the direwolf! Thing had it's head down in submission like, Jon say it ain't so, and Jon . . . he ignored the poor thing. What was up with that? That was NOT the Jon Snow we all thought we knew and loved. Right there me wife pulled up stakes and was out of the Jon Snow fan club. And Daenarys at the celebration sitting alone watching Jon get all the stroking while her cup of Starbucks was going cold.

WHAT? Did no one on set notice that cup of joe?

The Hound - not to be one upped

Jamie and Brienne, oh my God, I was like she's too tall for you Jamie I Love My Sister Lannister. I was not buying that crazy shite about taking shirts off and then he spends a few nights with her tall self and then doesn't bother to say bye, just goes out in the night, she finds him gone, goes running out in her granny gown and then SHE cries over Jamie Lannister! I was like Brienne pull it together, he's not worth it and since when does Brienne of Tarth, no make that Ser Brienne, cry?

The Hound, yes I like the the Hound, he's snippy, grumpy, sarcastic and quite a wit in me eyes at least. Arya teaming up with Mr. Hound while not the teaming up most wanted (my family wanted her to become a Barathon), she ends up with her old nemesis/savoiur and off they go, he to kill his brother (I say BRING IT ON CLEGHAN VS. CLEGHAN IN THE CLEGHAN BOWL!) and Arya we assume to chop off Cersei's head like the evil queen (we love to hate) chopped off her Da's. Seems contrived? Well, of course it does and you know right now that no Cleghan will survive THAT fiasco with swords. As to Arya, if Jamie isn't going to kill his sister/lover she may be taking him on, and using his face to get close enough to finish off Ceresi.

Jon Snow has become a love struck puppy who somehow lost his rationality. He just moons around wishing he wasn't a Targaryan, probably as much as Daenary's wishes the same thing. I don't know what happened to these two characters but they are hardly recognisable anymore and its hard to like either of them.

Bran, well, Bran is talking a lot more, you notice that? For a long time he sat around in that chair staring at heaven knows what and zoning out as a raven and now, just ask him a question and he'll rattle on, not for hours but a few seconds conversing is startling to what we are not used to AND you don't have to be under a Weirwood tree to get him to say a few words.

I know this sounds strange, but I miss Theon. The boy proved himself at the last and even me Mam said she was starting to see what Sansa saw in him. I think maybe it was the Night King music that added to that. You knew Theon was not going to see out that episode, you knew he was going to fight with all he had left, and you knew he was going to fail, the odds were too many. But that music, it was so different, it was a bit modern but it was a piano that starts with a few key tinkles here and another there (like snow starting to fall), and then there be a reoccurring theme and the action on the screen doesn't fit the music somehow but it does! The quiet of the music, the sadness, the slow steady beat doesn't waiver, but the action on screen is violent, massive, ongoing, gory, quick, and the music plays slowly on, varying it's theme slightly, quietly, sadly. The Night King and White Walkers appear and in a slow-mo walk towards us on our screens, the music picking up those violins and that subconscious association with fiddles and violins and the devil and evil creep into our psyches. We see Theon and a trans Bran and the music gets stronger, the beat picks up like a heartbeat, a quickening if you will and more instruments join in, and you know a climax is coming and when it does, and the music alters to its first natal beats and you watch Theon dying and the Night King focusing on Bran, you get it, and its painful, but its beautiful too and mostly its unforgettable and respectfully quiet. That music and that last scene with Theon and the Night King and White Walkers approaching was the best of the whole episode.

Arya was an anti-climax, yes, she was sort of a surprise in the way she killed the Night King, but you knew after her conversation with the Red Priestess where she was headed. So no surprise she appeared, the surprise was in how she did it.

Lastly I be so tired of Sansa. The petty crap she's got going just annoys me. I thought her character would be fully fleshed out and in control. Instead she's turned into Littlefinger. I was glad to see him go but he's back in female costume.

Lastly, I'd like great things to happen for Tyrion, but his character has suffered this season as well. I want him to be a Targaryan, I want him to walk through wildfire unscathed, I want him to ride a dragon and destroy that bloody throne. That would pacify me if he'd go flying off into the sunset astride a dragon and never be seen again, make him a myth, the little man who destroyed a kingdom and flew off in glory.

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

I know this will start tempers flaring again, BUT . . .

04 May 2019
951

R. Linda:

Proof positive Jon Snow be NOT a Targaryan.

Yesterday afternoon Jon Snow thought to honour Deanery's red dragon Drogon with a birthday cake celebrating 1 long dragon year of dragon adulthood when . . . well, Drogon decided to blow out the candle and in doing so . . . you see the end result.

Special thank you to anonymous follower for proof of bloodline.

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

Davos lives to ladle more soup!

29 April 2019
950

R. Linda:

Yes, I be happy to say Davos Seaworth be alive and well enough to ladle more soup! We actually found him standing in the darkness, in the wintry fog watching the Red Woman walk to her demise.

I don't know if you watched GoT last night, but I will tell you the most enthusiastic person in me abode was Sean, the soon to be deported cousin of mine. He went to the Dollar Store and bought left over Easter candy, a case of Pringles little can chips where you get like ten crisps per can, soda of a brand I've never heard of and a jar of mayonnaise (because he likes to dip his crisps in that). He even got his Ikea fur throw to wrap himself in Bran fashion in one of the arm chairs along with a pair of cheap mirrored sunglasses (in case the dragonfire was too bright) and he was all set. Just a side note here, me Mam likes to come up behind him and shout "Dracarys!" Scares the hell out of him.

Well, he didn't have to worry about the dragonfire being too bright the whole battle was so dark we all scrapped our chairs up to the telly to see better.

"Wuz dat a cat?" Me Mam said when the undead had breached the Winterfell walls. To rectify that I turned the brightness up to the brightest setting and the only thing that did was show me that the wights were not people in some instances but looked like clouds of black smoke! OK that took the charm away.

Thank the higher powers that Melisandre showed up to light a couple of fires so we could see! But that didn't last. It was a moment watching all the Dothraks arakhs light up and it was another when they all went out. We got an awestruck "Woo!" out of Sean as the sabres caught fire and then another when they went out, but a more deflated 'woo'.

"I can't see shite!" Sean said munching on a crisp. "What is happening? Does anyone know?"

We were all hunched in our chairs leaning forward, eyes squinting at the screen and as lost as Jon Snow and Deanery's on their dragons. WHICH by the way, we weren't sure if THEY were supposed to light the barrier or not because it looked like they were just flying around while everyone below was being lopped to pieces. It was difficult to see if the expressions on their faces was confusion or just one looking at the other like 'where to next?'

"Do you really think this shooting at night using basic lighting is a good idea?" Tonya asked no one in particular.

I had control of the remote so I'd have to stop, rewind, got back pressing forward in slow motion to see WHO was still alive and who wasn't. That took a great deal of me patience away, but either me Mam, Tonya or Sean would say something like, "Is that Samwell lying down there among the corpses? Or, did Jamie Lannister just get a death whack from that big raggedly wight?" I tell ya, it was painful.

Of course me Mam swore she was seeing cats and not dragons. Even more bedevilling to her was what happened to Jon Snow's direwolf (which by the way, are a true extinct breed of wolf), it was in the charge and then it was in the castle. What happened to it from charge to castle? We don't know!

It took 55 nights to shoot this epic battle and one to show it and end it. This be lost on me for one. I was all set for maybe three more nights of epic blackness and strange sounds, so imagine me surprise it was one night and one night only, but what an ending thanks to the training in the House of Black and White that Arya painfully managed. Francis Ford Coppola shot Dracula using the old smoke and mirrors technique and that worked wonderfully. Peter Jackson used blue light in the rain for his Lord of the Rings epics and it worked so well we knew who everyone was and where they were. This, last night, well not so much as since we couldn't make out where or who was doing what.

At  least next week we know things may be lit in daylight, at least we hope so. IF last night was the epic biggest, bad arse battle on TV ever, then we have not much to look forward to with the Westros battle scenes. I think Battle of the Bastards was the best battle ever and far out grosses last nights blind catastrophe.

So me blog followers were all wrong, including meself. None of us saw last night coming to such a quick and precise (thank you Arya) conclusion and that's a good thing, one night showing will save our eyesight. Unpredictable and satisfying be what we want (I be sure I speak for everyone on that) and that's what we got, even if we couldn't see most of it.

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

Me head be spinning with GoT

26 April 2019
949

R. Linda:

I haven't slept since Sunday night, tossing and turning and being bedevilled by the lingering visual of Davos ladling out SOUP!

I cannot for the life of me get that whole idea out of me mind I can't. There we were walking in Winterfell (we being the camera) and mixed in the shades of black and grey were inmates of the castle stirring, some about their business, others getting ready for battle, and then there was the soup line! Yes, R. Linda, and dolling out soup was Davos Seaworth, the onion king! And I wanted to know why. This was their last bowl of soup as they entered the safest place in Winterfell . . . the crypts where all the dead are buried and not all those dead are dust, no no, there are few that are still bones and you know what that could mean don't you? Safe place me arse!

Anyway, back to me main concern. DAVOS -- SOUP!

When did Davos become a soup nazi? There he was in all his dark onion king clothing measuring out soup into crude bowls one after the other, a conversation thrown in, even a Shireen sort of look-a-like with grayscale and there I was (the camera) zeroed in on Davos being taken back to the days of Shireen and sizing this young girl up with how much soup he'd ladle in her bowl. OK then me thoughts were IS he supposed to remember Shireen to get his anger up to meet the white walkers, OR (and I think you'll like this idea of mine), was it to make the wheels in his brain turn on the disease of grayscale and how that could be used on the white walkers and turn them to stone? BUT Davos be not Samwell Tarley (after all it wasn't that long ago he learned to READ), so I be sure the finding a way to infect white walkers was not on the onion king's mind.

Here I was thinking Davos would meet up with the red witch and do battle in Shireen's name or memory or both! But no, he be in Winterfell, no red witch about the place and he's got a soup kitchen going. I guess it was onion soup, huh?

SO WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT -- ANYBODY?

What else bothered me was since when has Daenerys Targaryen become such a power monger, and queen of cruelty. I thought that was Cersi's modus operandi. I used to like Dany thinking she was going to bring fairness to the 7 Kingdoms, a true and honest and honourable leader, but nope, nope, nopers as the Weasil would say. Suddenly, since hooking up with Jon Snow, oh excuse me, her nephew Aegon Targaryen, she's changed. I for one, definitely do NOT want her on the iron throne because we have one of those there already, the gloriously evil and sublime incestuous Cersei Lannister. Though a catfight between those two might be interesting since Sansa Stark would not engage. Yes, that brings me to Sansa, the young princess we were routing for to overcome all the crap that was heaped on her and there she was with murderous little sissy Arya, making waste of Littlefinger, yea I say on that, but then Dany's appears and the powerful woman image that Sansa was projecting became a snivelling bitch. Pardon me language but the jealously over her former brother's lover was this side of ridiculous if not stupid. There be a war coming, winter be outside the walls, is there time for such petty foolishness? NO!

And talk about foolishness in the guise of Theon Greyjoy or Greyjoke, as you please, what was that overly enthusiastic embrace about? I was like Sansa NOOO! And even better Theron be guarding Bran from the Night King! OMG Who's stupid idea was that? If I were Bran, I'd sprout raven wings and wing me way outta there.

I'd love it if Azor Ahai turns out to be Tyrion. No one would expect that but me, after all he had the valyrian dagger that Arya now sports. Yeah, but I can't forget that Bronn has the same bow that Tyrion killed Tywin with and is gunning, no arrowing, for Tyrion and it would be just desserts now wouldn't it to be felled by the same bow one felled their daddy with?

Yet the hint here is that Ahai has to forge his own light bringer fire sword and who do we know that just happens to have those handy skills? Gentry! The forgotten Barathon. BUT he could have already forged that weapon, in the crazy looking dragon glass design Arya asked of him. Maybe? Probably? Hum. Nah!

Gentry could save all if he is Ahai and the red witch showed up to bring light to his sabre, I mean sword. Or, Jamie Lannister could get killed and Arya take his face and masquerade as Jamie until she could kill Cersei with Jamie's valyrian sword, now there would be an interesting just dessert or soup. Oh what goes on in me head!

Then there are the spirals that are driving everyone up a pole. I will admit I noticed the Weirwood where Bran met and was marked by the Night King was shaped in a spiral, even the fallen red leaves were in a spiral. The Children worshipped the trees and much like in Lord of the Rings, the first men made waste of the land and in this case chopped them down along with any Children they came across. So the Children captured a first man and with weirwood magic made him into the Night King, old blue eyes, to lay waste to the men. Could the spiral if reversed take the white walkers and their king away, blow them into snowflakes, or whatever? Or is it fire that's needed, its red like the sap of the weirwoods, though I'd plant more weirwoods if I was in Westros. However, since the Night King represents ice, and the red witch, fire -- is it she we are waiting for? Is she Azor Ahai? Fire and ice? She be as old as the trees, so where is she?

ANYONE? ANYONE KNOW?

Kill the Night King, you kill the white walkers right? And in turn the wights drop really dead for the second time? Is that how it works?

Finally, I did struggle with me thoughts about who will end up with the iron throne, and I saw the Night King with a blue eyed Cersei sitting next to him. Think about it why not? She's already dressed for it. The Night King be not acting out of malice, he be more a programmed robot and the person who is acting out of  malice is Queen Cersei. How better to put her wicked self paired off with someone she should admire for doing her work for her. Even better if the Night King made her his Night Queen, she wouldn't be cruel or wicked anymore because like him, she'd feel nothing. So maybe that's the end of it, everyone becomes a wight and Cersei stays in power (if you can call it that). But then that whole prophecy goes out the window, so nah.

I particularly like the new opening that shows the blue ice of where the white walkers are advanced to. But what I like even more be the Oreo Cookies opening to Game of Thrones, to sell their Throne brand cookies, well done Oreo! Here's the link if you haven't laid eyes on this clever advertising clip: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xmf-6TYjGuQ

I've got mine!

If you know the answers to any of this prattle, feel free to comment BUT don't add an advert to the end because it will stay in Gabe's crypt in the deleted section.

Gabe
Copyright © 2019 All rights reserved

Bad news comes in the form of a cheery announcement

24 April 2019
948

R. Linda:

I be rather perplexed with everything of late. It seems the world has turned upside down and things be crazier than ever.

It started with me cousin Sean, who is to be returning to the old sod, BUT he came up with a harebrained idea that will keep him here. Yes, he did and the idea was sprung on us Easter Sunday when the kiddos were filled with egg hunt anticipation, too much chocolate (thanks Mam), and with all the childish energy of spring and warm weather. Well, they were off the walls they were, all three of them. In the midst of the trio out on the front lawn vying for egg filled treats, Sean stands up in front of us and announces, "I be getting married next week."

There was stunned silence, then me sainted Mam started giggling because she thought it was a joke. Oh if only! I said, "WHAT?" Tonya blurted out, "TO WHO?" and finally me Mam watching Sean's face realised, no, no joke here and she muttered (not sure), "Who'd have ye?"

Who indeed? Well, I'll tell you who. The local yokel who he has befriended as a drinking partner -- that's who! She's six years older than him, had one of those teen aged marriages that ended two months after the fact and has been banging around (excuse the expression) for years as one of the guys at the local drinking establishment a town over. Yup, she's got mousy brown hair with silver threads which make her look even more mousy, she's a hefty woman (and that be me being kind), she's loud (has no clue what the word whisper means), dresses like a female lumberjack, and always, and I mean always has a "cold one" in her hand. Yup.

I be not intentionally mean but this be too much for simple me and I be put over the edge with this news. I would still be outside staring at the pond contemplating drowning meself if me wife didn't near physically move me inside the house when I shouted at Sean, "OVER ME DEAD BODY!"

THAT bit of exuberance on me part curtailed the exuberance on the kiddos pushing and shoving each other over eggs, and they stopped in their tracks to look up at the house to where the threat came from. That's when me Mam, shooed them back to what they had been doing and Tonya escorted me inside where I near had a hissy fit.

The miscreant still stood outside, bottle of Guinness in hand (at 9 a.m. I might add, THAT be what SHE started in him, the early morning beer -- I TELL YA!), while me Mam tried in vain to talk sense into the man.

I was distraught, I had been gearing meself up with happy dances at his leaving, and now, he had found a possible way to stay HERE. And when I told YOU, you reinforced the glaring truth, you said, "OH HELL NO! in your town? Will they both live in your yard? Happy Easter to you too if you can!"

No, truer words me muse, because that's the plan, the dastardly plan he and she have, of living in that god-forsaken camper in me driveway!

He must of felt guilty somehow, and spent the afternoon finishing the bike shed he built for the kiddos after eight months of doing nothing but erected a skeleton shed, no floor, no roof, no walls, no nothing until Easter Sunday, FINISHED! I thought for certain, I'd be the one building that thing when he left, so he must KNOW he's doing wrong to actually put intensive labour into actually wielding tools and wood and completing said bike shed. That's the only good thing has come out of this news!

Forget gray hairs, I have gone the way of pulling every strand out of me head to the fact I needed to shave me head for the patches of baldness where I ripped me hair out. I'd do it with every kitchen table conversation I had with him that day until, me Mam came in and told us to move it because she needed to get Easter dinner going (not to mention sweep up great clumps of hair on the floor), and then looking at me head with a very strange expression on her face, pointing to me and then the hallway mirror. I got it, I finally took meself to the mirror and WOWEY WOW WOW! I almost trampled me wife in me distress but she picked up UNFORTUNATELY the first bill hat she found and it was Sean's MAGA hat! I was so upset I can't tell ya.

I did not realise what hat it was because I avoided the mirror like the plague, trying to figure out what to do because Monday I had to be in Boston at work! I wore the damn thing most all day to the snickers of the small fry who I ignored because I was too preoccupied to ask them WHAT?

So the third bad thing that happened after the in your face marriage announcement, followed by me pulling me hair out, and unwittingly wearing a piece of garage on me head, was an extra place had been prepared at table and guess for WHO? Oh yeah, I had only counted we were off by one extra setting when I was about to say something to me Mam, when I hear the booming and I mean BOOMING voice of . . . are you ready for the name? VIOLET! Vi to her family, Violet! No shrinking Violet be this violet. BUT she doesn't go by her first name, no, no, she goes by her middle name, Mo. For effect here be the entire name, Violet Mo Lester. The Mo was for Moreen but here parents couldn't spell it thus, MO. Of course, me Mam heard the name for what she did and ran with it, referring to Violet not as Vi or Violet but the molester woman at the end of the table. Yup she did.

It was, "Ms. Molester, would like a bit of carrot in sweet mint?" and "Ooh Ms. Molester you need try dis 'ere platter of turkey," and "Ms. Molester could ye poss da tatties?" Of which Ms. Molester had no idea what tatties were. Ugh!

I was and still am beside meself. At this rate I may end up shooting meself to put an end to me misery, or even better, chucking it all and boarding a plane for Denver and moving in with you. But then you'd take pleasure in driving me crazier than I already be. But then I think I'd miss the kiddos and they (I'd hope) would miss me. So here I sit babbling and drooling over meself and desk just getting nutter and nutter with every passing hour.

Gabe
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Crazy STUFF: like borrowing something without permission, seeing double, and choosing cards at a card store.

15 April 2019
947

R. Linda:

I haven't seen it all, I never have said I have, and don't believe I won't. I never know what to expect from me family, and in some ways that's a good thing, in others, not so good. Take this weekend, Sean and me youngest share a bond of being Mr. Fixits. They take things apart and put them together and sometimes the putting back together doesn't work out, but on occasion it does. When it be something like me lawnmower that be taken apart and NOT put back together I have a big problem with both of them, Sean in particular. Me lawnmower be like me chainsaw, off limits as they both should be.

The wee one saw a cartoon movie (I believe it was Cars), and that has left a lasting impression on him and where the taking things apart and making other things out of those parts, I think came from. Lightning McQueen (the starring cartoon car) was always being tweaked to go a little faster, look a little jazzier, and that be the motivation.

So a few days ago I got the mower out, and mowed the lawn. It was a warm day and I was all about not wanting to rake last fall's leaves out of the grass. Mowing them down would be so less labour intensive, and that's what I did. I left the mower by the garage, it needed gas and I was going to get some only got side tracked by Tonya showing me what areas of her garden she wanted to expand this summer.

Because the mower hasn't been out I forgot about it and didn't notice it was missing from the garage where I left it. It had been moved inside the garage where the engine was taken out, and put into a non motorised kiddie ATV. The two "mechanics" somehow rigged the mower into the back of the kiddie ATV and as I was making me way to the garage to get a spade (it being Saturday now and I wanted to put stakes in Tonya's garden), the kiddie ATV comes zooming out of the garage, knocking down and running over Tonya's dirt bike, and if that's wasn't enough damage, straight (and driverless I might add) into me automobile.

The crunch was audible I be sure all over the neighbourhood and the huge dent in the passagener side door had me mind seeing dollar signs of large numbers. They took out both the bicycle and the car.

"What were you thinking?!" Were the words I shouted as I ran to try to get the still running kiddie ATV back from further damage to me mobile. Tonya was right behind me as we both struggled with the ATV.

"Come turn this thing off!" She shouted behind her as Sean reluctantly came out of the garage, his young partner in crime had run inside as soon as he saw the ATV take off because he KNEW he was in big trouble.

I had to shout at Sean to hurry it up as both Tonya and I tried to hold the thing back. He finally half ran over and with a flick of his wrist turned the damn thing off.

The bike be totalled, the car has about $1200 worth of damage. The lawnmower will have to be replaced entirely and you know that's big bucks right there, because the engine was dented and fuel was leaking all over the pavement. There be no way to get the dent out, nor fix the leak, NOR get the engine back in the lawnmower, so that's that.

Sean can't be leaving soon enough. He was presented with a bill for all of this and so far I have got $5.00. I don't expect to get any more because we are talking Sean here. Luckily me insurance covers everything but the dirt bike. That bike Tonya had since our days in Boston, so it had a lot of sentimental value as well.

As to the wee culprit he be grounded from Mr. Fixit. I told him he can't even look at him and if he does speak, look, or touch that man he's grounded until the age of 60! My goodness what possessed them both I do not know.

Meanwhile, me gray-haired, apple cheeked, little Mam was having a bit of confusion of her own going. She told me Bob (our faux bobcat) was getting on her nerves meowing for food. She thought he might have a tapeworm because he suddenly got very skinny, but just the morning before last he was fatter than a Cheshire cat and then yesterday he was Mr. Skinny and just this morning he was fat again. This she told me over coffee as I was getting ready to leave for work.

I looked out the mudroom door to the landing where there be Bob's cat bed and his food. Bob was in bed catnapping and looking huge. I told her he looked fine to me and she just clucked her tongue and said, "Well, you wait until supper time and he be all skinny guy again."

I got me coat and was headed out the backdoor when coming up the stairs yowling for food was Bob and he was thin as a rail. I was so stunned I stopped and watched him as he rubbed up against me pleading for food. I was thrown I was.

"See dat, he's skinny like I tole ya." Mam said looking out the screen door.

"I don't understand this, I just saw him in his cat bed and he was so big and hanging over the sides, that I thought you were losing it." I said picking Bob up and bringing him in. I was taking him to the mudroom landing where I knew he still had a large bowl of food (Mam had been giving him double portions to fatten him up), and as I opened the door, I saw the cat in the cat bed stretch and yawn. I looked from the cat in me arms to the cat in the bed and realised we had two tiger cats that looked the  same, except ours did not have a tail and this one did!

Yup seems Mam had been feeding the neighbourhood stray that decided bed and food were a good thing and chased our Bob away. The hissing from both as one saw the other had me drop Bob and close the mudroom door before we had a full scale cat fight on our hands.

So mystery solved, but now we have another cat. Me Mam has Bob in the kitchen now, feeding him inside and the intruder has laid claim to the landing. On my way home I was instructed to pick up another cat bed. Never a dull moment, I tell ya!

Lastly, a week ago when we were planning a going home party for Sean (can't be soon enough), I took the wee one with me to the card store. I needed a sarcastic card for me cousin's "deportation" as I so fondly like to refer to it, and since no one was home to watch the wee one, I took him with me. We have no Hallmark store here, so the drugstore be the only place to buy a decent card.

Unfortunately in this case, me wee one be an exuberant, excited type, that loves life and everyday be an adventure. This I didn't take into mind as I entered the store, as usually he's quite well behaved. But once in the card department he became that exuberant, excited child and proceeded to examine every card in the store. It did not matter I was looking for Bon Voyage cards, he took out baby shower, anniversary, hope you feel better, any cards that caught his fancy. The drugstore had only opened recently and we had been met by a very pleasant lady (store manager) who welcomed us at the door and asked if she could help us find anything in particular. I had said cards and she took us to that section and busied herself at the other end sorting Russell Stover's candy boxes.

All I can say is I will not be visiting the card section of any store with me wee one until he's reached the age of 29. Any card that played music or had some kind of audio feature was played over and over and over until I snatched it away, or worse, he got tired of it and put it back in the wrong place. I was bombarded with "Git dis one Daddy," no matter it wasn't a going away card. I was surprised the store manager didn't say something about the amounts of cards being opened and examined by someone who can't read. Fond memory though.

Gabe
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