46
R. Linda:
As I left you, I was lying on me back, skis in the air, pooped from digging almost to China. The woman's spouse was helping pull the ski pole loops from me wrists and the woman went to put the kettle on, amidst a lot of "oh my's." I must have passed out from the cold or me exertions, because the next thing I remember be me feet getting bloody hot from the heat gun the old man was using to melt the ice off me ski bindings! Talk about going from one extreme to the other AND what a hot foot really feels like.
That got me alert in a jif and I was sitting up yowling me fool head off and holding me foot. Not easy to do when your foot is attached to a very long cross country ski! I almost hit the two of them with me ski, but damn I had a hot foot and it hurt. After much wiggling around on the floor, I pulled me shoe off, ski and all as the old couple ducked. I grabbed the other foot and with super human effort yanked it off. Then I got up and hopped about clutching me burnt foot. I hopped to a chair in the living room with tears streaming down me pathetic face. The woman popped in and asked me meekly if I'd like some tea. She held up the ceramic kettle and smiled.
I nodded, biting me tongue to squelch the pain in me hot foot. The tea was poured, done as I liked it, but I could not let go me foot. The couple cajoled me to let it go they were not going to touch it and urged me to drink the warm liquid, it would make me feel better. Finally, they couldn't stand me sitting there with me foot in me lap and the tea getting cold. They pounced prying me fingers from me foot because it was getting ridiculous me holding onto the burnt member and the tea sitting untouched. I struggled against them, but after digging the foxhole outside, I had not the strength, and succumbed to tea being shoved into me hands, foot being placed on the floor.
I sipped slowly and the lukewarm liquid was the very thing I needed. The old couple sat smiling across from me saying nothing. Talk about awkward. I felt if I made a sudden move they'd be on me again. I cleared me throat and introduced meself and thanked them for taking me in, and apologised for me behaviour with me foot. They took a breath of relief, and told me it was fine, they didn't get many people this time of year. The old man told me he had put me skis in the hall foyer and me bag was up in me room. He offered to take me there so I could lay down and recover.
I poured meself another cuppa and followed him up the stairs. I thought the stairs very creaky until I realised the sound I was hearing was not old wood, but the cartilage in me kneecaps clicking from the spills I took on me cross country/downhill racing trip.
The old man told me his name was Henry and his wife's name was Henrietta. I wanted to say, "You have got to be kidding," but kept me tongue quiet. He showed me where the water closet was and then showed me into a room that must have been in vogue in the 1960s. It had huge peonies on black and psychedelic green background. The flowers were bright pink and bright white and wow, me eyeballs if they could scream would have. Once I adjusted me eyesight I spied the full sized bed eagerly. He left me and I put the tea down and fell into the creamy white bedspread and closed me eyes, but not before looking straight up at the fuchsia pink ceiling. Me mouth opened in a silent scream and I clamped me eyes shut to blot it out. I felt for the light switch and clicked it off. Then . . . blessed oblivion visited.
I must have been exhausted because I slept until something unexpected happened. It was dark, very dark, so dark the peonies were glowing on the wallpaper the way I thought they might. I thought I felt something, but nothing stirred, so I closed me eyes realising the house was quiet, and it must be in the wee hours of the morning. I could hear the wind pounding the outside of the house and the window casings rattled. The storm was raging and I thought to meself, that by morning it would be spent and I'd be on me way to digging out me rental. I wasn't looking forward to that and just as I started to drift off, I felt something nestling up against me. Something warm. For one horrified moment I thought it was the old lady cheating on her old husband, but then, I felt something snuggle up against me on the other side. OH MY GOD, THEY ARE BOTH IN BED WITH ME!
I jumped back to the headboard, knees about me ears, horrified, when suddenly the two bodies I disturbed moved and jumped up as I went to push them away. I grabbed someone by the hair and got a scream that made me instantly let go. I had the old woman by the hair and oh my God, I must have hurt her. I squirmed up against the headboard when I got whopped in the face by more hair and something sharp like a fingernail slashed me across me nose. In me sleepy stupor, I finally realised it wasn't the old couple, I was in bed with animals!
For sure the caterwauling started, the hissing and spitting, and suddenly as me eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see the two fur balls in scaredy cat pose ready to pounce on each other. And, they did with me in the middle! They went at it full tilt. I grabbed for the blankets to pull around me exposed flesh. I heard a thump as one of them fell off the bed and the other leapt off into space after it. I hurriedly turned on the light next to the bed and the two of them continued their dance about the room, the hissing and spitting in full attack mode.
Oh what to do? I opened the door but the couple either were deaf as doorposts or not willing to be confronted by a rudely awakened Irishman. I tried to shoo the two miscreants out of me room, but had a hell of a time doing it. They were under the bed and I couldn't get them out. All the while they hissed and spat not at each other, at me!
To put it shortly, I had a hell of a sleepless night after that. As morning light came round, I could hear the old couple down in the kitchen. The two cats were still growling at me from under the bed. I made meself as decent as possible without putting me feet on the floor. Each time I did, I'd get cuffed from under the dust ruffle. Grumbling under me breath, I took meself to breakfast. I was greeted with, "Did you sleep well?" Such smiling faces, how could I say, "Bloody hell as if!"
I went along with it and acted like all was just cozy wonderful. I did have a lovely breakie and was enjoying the chat when the old man asked me if I'd like to stay another night since the STATE OF EMERGENCY was in effect and everything was shut down. Me heart sank to me big toes on hearing that. Seems I had got meself caught in a bloody blizzard, the worse blizzard the Maritimes have seen in a century. They were calling it "The Perfect Storm," and "The Storm of the Century." I was calling it other more unmentionable things.
So to put this adventure to rest, I ended up staying an entire week in snowman's land. Not able to leave, not able to sleep (because of me furry bed-mates), and when I did leave and hiked back to where me rental was, I found it had been freaking towed. There I was by meself, not a soul in sight, the streets empty still, not plowed, with me skis and suitcase in hand, standing in the middle of a snow drifting street -- realising the only place to go was back to Henry and Henrietta's!
I be home now, slightly insane and trying to convince meself it was all a bad dream and nothing more. I cringe when I see a cat and worse, I will never touch another cup of tea again. By the end of me stay I had consumed more English Breakfast Tea than one does in a lifetime. I have a permanent frozen smile on me face from forcing meself to smile for hours on end, as if nothing were wrong and I was enjoying hearing the same tale about when Henry met Henrietta over and over and over and over . . .
I be going to sign off now. I think I need a pill. Oh yes, I have medication to help me get over the shakes and I will never take these sunglasses off. Those bloody peonies are imprinted on me retinas . . . permanently. Sigh.
Gabe
Copyright © 2004 All rights reserved
R. Linda:
As I left you, I was lying on me back, skis in the air, pooped from digging almost to China. The woman's spouse was helping pull the ski pole loops from me wrists and the woman went to put the kettle on, amidst a lot of "oh my's." I must have passed out from the cold or me exertions, because the next thing I remember be me feet getting bloody hot from the heat gun the old man was using to melt the ice off me ski bindings! Talk about going from one extreme to the other AND what a hot foot really feels like.
That got me alert in a jif and I was sitting up yowling me fool head off and holding me foot. Not easy to do when your foot is attached to a very long cross country ski! I almost hit the two of them with me ski, but damn I had a hot foot and it hurt. After much wiggling around on the floor, I pulled me shoe off, ski and all as the old couple ducked. I grabbed the other foot and with super human effort yanked it off. Then I got up and hopped about clutching me burnt foot. I hopped to a chair in the living room with tears streaming down me pathetic face. The woman popped in and asked me meekly if I'd like some tea. She held up the ceramic kettle and smiled.
I nodded, biting me tongue to squelch the pain in me hot foot. The tea was poured, done as I liked it, but I could not let go me foot. The couple cajoled me to let it go they were not going to touch it and urged me to drink the warm liquid, it would make me feel better. Finally, they couldn't stand me sitting there with me foot in me lap and the tea getting cold. They pounced prying me fingers from me foot because it was getting ridiculous me holding onto the burnt member and the tea sitting untouched. I struggled against them, but after digging the foxhole outside, I had not the strength, and succumbed to tea being shoved into me hands, foot being placed on the floor.
I sipped slowly and the lukewarm liquid was the very thing I needed. The old couple sat smiling across from me saying nothing. Talk about awkward. I felt if I made a sudden move they'd be on me again. I cleared me throat and introduced meself and thanked them for taking me in, and apologised for me behaviour with me foot. They took a breath of relief, and told me it was fine, they didn't get many people this time of year. The old man told me he had put me skis in the hall foyer and me bag was up in me room. He offered to take me there so I could lay down and recover.
I poured meself another cuppa and followed him up the stairs. I thought the stairs very creaky until I realised the sound I was hearing was not old wood, but the cartilage in me kneecaps clicking from the spills I took on me cross country/downhill racing trip.
The old man told me his name was Henry and his wife's name was Henrietta. I wanted to say, "You have got to be kidding," but kept me tongue quiet. He showed me where the water closet was and then showed me into a room that must have been in vogue in the 1960s. It had huge peonies on black and psychedelic green background. The flowers were bright pink and bright white and wow, me eyeballs if they could scream would have. Once I adjusted me eyesight I spied the full sized bed eagerly. He left me and I put the tea down and fell into the creamy white bedspread and closed me eyes, but not before looking straight up at the fuchsia pink ceiling. Me mouth opened in a silent scream and I clamped me eyes shut to blot it out. I felt for the light switch and clicked it off. Then . . . blessed oblivion visited.
I must have been exhausted because I slept until something unexpected happened. It was dark, very dark, so dark the peonies were glowing on the wallpaper the way I thought they might. I thought I felt something, but nothing stirred, so I closed me eyes realising the house was quiet, and it must be in the wee hours of the morning. I could hear the wind pounding the outside of the house and the window casings rattled. The storm was raging and I thought to meself, that by morning it would be spent and I'd be on me way to digging out me rental. I wasn't looking forward to that and just as I started to drift off, I felt something nestling up against me. Something warm. For one horrified moment I thought it was the old lady cheating on her old husband, but then, I felt something snuggle up against me on the other side. OH MY GOD, THEY ARE BOTH IN BED WITH ME!
I jumped back to the headboard, knees about me ears, horrified, when suddenly the two bodies I disturbed moved and jumped up as I went to push them away. I grabbed someone by the hair and got a scream that made me instantly let go. I had the old woman by the hair and oh my God, I must have hurt her. I squirmed up against the headboard when I got whopped in the face by more hair and something sharp like a fingernail slashed me across me nose. In me sleepy stupor, I finally realised it wasn't the old couple, I was in bed with animals!
For sure the caterwauling started, the hissing and spitting, and suddenly as me eyes adjusted to the dark, I could see the two fur balls in scaredy cat pose ready to pounce on each other. And, they did with me in the middle! They went at it full tilt. I grabbed for the blankets to pull around me exposed flesh. I heard a thump as one of them fell off the bed and the other leapt off into space after it. I hurriedly turned on the light next to the bed and the two of them continued their dance about the room, the hissing and spitting in full attack mode.
Oh what to do? I opened the door but the couple either were deaf as doorposts or not willing to be confronted by a rudely awakened Irishman. I tried to shoo the two miscreants out of me room, but had a hell of a time doing it. They were under the bed and I couldn't get them out. All the while they hissed and spat not at each other, at me!
To put it shortly, I had a hell of a sleepless night after that. As morning light came round, I could hear the old couple down in the kitchen. The two cats were still growling at me from under the bed. I made meself as decent as possible without putting me feet on the floor. Each time I did, I'd get cuffed from under the dust ruffle. Grumbling under me breath, I took meself to breakfast. I was greeted with, "Did you sleep well?" Such smiling faces, how could I say, "Bloody hell as if!"
I went along with it and acted like all was just cozy wonderful. I did have a lovely breakie and was enjoying the chat when the old man asked me if I'd like to stay another night since the STATE OF EMERGENCY was in effect and everything was shut down. Me heart sank to me big toes on hearing that. Seems I had got meself caught in a bloody blizzard, the worse blizzard the Maritimes have seen in a century. They were calling it "The Perfect Storm," and "The Storm of the Century." I was calling it other more unmentionable things.
So to put this adventure to rest, I ended up staying an entire week in snowman's land. Not able to leave, not able to sleep (because of me furry bed-mates), and when I did leave and hiked back to where me rental was, I found it had been freaking towed. There I was by meself, not a soul in sight, the streets empty still, not plowed, with me skis and suitcase in hand, standing in the middle of a snow drifting street -- realising the only place to go was back to Henry and Henrietta's!
I be home now, slightly insane and trying to convince meself it was all a bad dream and nothing more. I cringe when I see a cat and worse, I will never touch another cup of tea again. By the end of me stay I had consumed more English Breakfast Tea than one does in a lifetime. I have a permanent frozen smile on me face from forcing meself to smile for hours on end, as if nothing were wrong and I was enjoying hearing the same tale about when Henry met Henrietta over and over and over and over . . .
I be going to sign off now. I think I need a pill. Oh yes, I have medication to help me get over the shakes and I will never take these sunglasses off. Those bloody peonies are imprinted on me retinas . . . permanently. Sigh.
Gabe
Copyright © 2004 All rights reserved
