bapples.

That's sad about the seagull and the blood. Today, I was harvesting. Harvesting apples all day. Peeling them, covering them in lemon juice, decided whether to jam, sauce or dehydrate. I love dried apples. I'm pretty sure that's one of my top snacks as a young kid. And it makes excellent instant oatmeal when added.

I tried making this sour cream apple pie too. I first had it while in new york, and the night that Sarah, Jean and I all got take out Indian and take out pie slices and jean rented that stupid movie on tv. I remember good things about the pie. But today it was a complete disaster. Truthfully, I think it's the apples that caused the downfall. I think they carry too much liquid for a pie fruit. But whatever. Still tasted fine.

I also got a retarded response from something I said on the vegan forums on craigslist. I've lost hope in it. That relationship lasted less then 24 hours.

In the Morning, Waking Up To Terrible Sunlight

Continuing to read the Corrections. Allow me to quote a particularly potent little bit here:
 It seemed as if, in every motel that he stayed in, he had neighbours who fornicated like no tomorrow- men of ill breeding and poor discipline, women who chuckled and screamed. At 1 am in Erie, Pennsylvania, a girl in the next room ranted and panted like a strumpet. Some slick, worthless fellow having his way with her. Alfred blamed this girl for taking it easy. (Franzen, 2008. p.335)
It's mostly that the wording makes me chuckle as well. Like a strumpet.
Anyway this morning, you will be impressed to know, I cooked breakfast for 18 people. And then I went and battered them all with the coffee pot until they gave me acceptable acknowledgement. I think the best I got was a "fantastic."
They call me the "egg-slinger."

The b'andb's regular seagull, Gilbert, has been turning up in the morning with a bloody stumpy leg instead of his usual, perky, left foot. We think it is broken and he has been bleeding all over the bannisters at the back deck, about a metre away from the dining guests. This is not only a safety hazard but also rather worrisome. Gilbert's mate Sally (Sullivan until Marketa caught them "doing it") has been screaming non stop from the roof-tops, although she stops if you tell her to shut up. Seagulls are clever, that's all. Gilbert will stare down at his injured leg then right into your eyes. "Help me, goddamn it" He's been getting breakfast for 9 years.
Home day after tomorrow

hum hum hum

I'm not gross enough to post a picture of it, but I totally crushed my finger last night while playing marimba, and now I'm left for a sausage of a droit. It's dark, and blue, and sausage like. If there was ever a blue dark, skin colored sausage, it would be my finger. Do you get what I'm saying?!

Back to other news, nothing else has happened. I invited Elizabeth last night to be my date to Carmanagh's 21st birthday bash next month. We're both wearing dresses, shes bringing me flowers and I'm bringing her a loaf of freshly baked bread. It sounds hilarious and it really is. We are also bringing a "couple" gift for the birthday lady itself. You should try and make it up for the party.

What? Like a Panther!

Oh believe me, its rural. They already know their neighbours, for example. Also they have a fruit tree. And a basement.

Just picked the freshly grown skin off my knee that I scraped up on the Night When I Tripped In The Dark At The Back Door.
Can't believe Jack Layton is dead. I kind of wish he could have been prime minister first. What a legend in the mustache. I honestly can't remember a time when I wasn't aware of Jack L. in the back of my brain.
Anyway I'm signed up to climb a small mountain tomorrow. Today I ran 1/2 hour. Got thighs like Mr. T

brother stole my ipod. I'm stuck to listening to hypem and cbc3 all da time.

Hey good looking(s). That's really funny that you guys did the entire Sydney thing only today. I saw Matt with the lovely lady in waiting, jocelyn/ at the brimm tonight while doing the oh-so impressive meeting with the two lovely ladies about the TOUR 20112. He couldn't believe that I already knew about what he did with the victoria kids including tyson, and then he got fussy at me because I mentioned his "rural" new homecomings, he doesn't think it's so rural. I blamed you, because that;s where my information came from. But whatever, his smile was big, and I'm still jealous he did the Alaskan adventure. Maybe I'll do it too one day.

So tonight the meeting for tour 2012. We talked about applications and cds and some smaller details, but I have a feeling alot more is going to come as we work on it. the applications sound a bit daunting (it includes either the cd/demo cd, cover letters, pictures and so on and so forth...) but it weirdly sounds fun at the same time.  I think once I see the press release it will make alot more sense about what we are doing. We talked about perfecting pictures and camping during the thing and the possibilities of buying a mini school bus as the tour bus! That sounds so gnarly. I don't even know if that's even how you spell that word, I'm pretty sure that's the first time I've ever used it.

Anyways, the night ended nice with carmanagh driving me home and the sky being so pretty. If carmanagh ever reads the blog, thanks for the ride!

ps laura, I got your letter in the middle of last week, but I saw no point trying to force down a letter in the postal system to see if it could get you quick enough. So you get the reply whenever I return your rabbit.

SInking in the Sand

Hey. Just drove Tyson out to Sydney in a land cruiser with open alcohol, sweet potato chips, boobie jokes and two Muellers. That's too much meat for me.
Also Lady Gaga. There is a fine line between ironic "appreciation" and real life enjoyment of terrible techno remixes to terrible songs. Also, have you heard the Rianna [sic] song where she talks about whips and chains?? This is a tad too much for me.
Anyway it was nice to drive out of the city, in a car full of men. I've been spending a lot of time with girlies lately. What I needed was testosterone, wrestling and innuendos. I got all of these things and a pretty nice sunset over Elk Lake. And Russian paratrooper goggles. Perfect for leaning out the window at high speeds.
Was at Zoe's house last night. She named her fighting fish "Scrambles the Death Dealer." I feel like there must me another world in which I could come up with names like that and be confident in announcing them to the world.
Been looking up grad schools too. So far its LA and Toronto. Not sure if I could live in Los Angeles. I mean, could you?
Reading: The Corrections by Jonathan Franzen (great writing! Man, I haven't been this into a book since... Nikolski?)
Listening:
This has been stuck in my head fo evah evah

polynominals!

This week, like I told you, i'm teaching marimba to little ones and mothers with Sir Forrest. It's going as good as you can, when you have impatient little ones, and a deadline *preformance at potluck tomorrow night.

That being said, it's also fun. There this adorable little black girl controling the beast of the bass and her mother on the baritone beside her.

After ever practice, I go to the cafe down the road and have a hot chocolate and do an hour of math. The barista knows that I'm coming for a hot chocolate. The moment I come through the door, she smiles and asks " hot chocolate?" It's great.

The man and I are talking again. Thats really nice too. I finally had an alright nights sleep.

The Water.

Not worth it, baby.
Everyone is rubbing me the wrong way today though. Especially fictional characters.

No one swims in the ocean here- it is too full of human waste. How depressing is that?
If I lived in this house by myself I would run down the hill to this grey body of water (probably in the buff) and splash maniacally head first into the surprisingly warm water, float around a bit, then run back up the hill to lounge in my (probably claw footed) porcelain tub.
Also If I lived in this house the wood would be stacked properly and there would be flowers, goddamn.

oh lame.

He still isn't talking to me. Day ... since friday.