Walking With Hazel: We Don't Want The Worms To Touch Us.

So, of course, it's Saturday, which means that first we had to get groceries, which is fine, except that the Little Miss decided that she was going to be extra particular today, which meant that she had to pick out everything we were going to get by hand, which is why we ended up with one apple, four bananas and four boxes of bunny noodles. When Dad decided that we needed a few other things (and not as many bunny noodles), well, it left the Little Miss in quite a funk, the likes of which was only cured by one of the nice people at Sunnyside Market offering her a robot monkey sticker. A purple robot monkey sticker, of course, which she promptly slapped onto Dad's forehead, which was okay by him.

Then we went and got watermelon from the other grocery store, because watermelon is essential.

Then we went to the comic store, because it was pretty much right next door, which meant that we really had no choice but to go in, and besides, Hazel had lost her Ramona doll so we needed to see if we could find another one, and if dad just happened to find some comics he liked, well, that was okay too, right? Right. But of course, they had no Ramona Flowers dolls, just stupid Scott Pilgrim dolls, so we were out of luck, but they did have dolls of Foofa from Yo Gabba Gabba, which Hazel was very good about not grabbing right off the shelf, so we decided that if Dad was going to get a comic, Hazel could have the Foofa doll. Because Dad is a pushover.

Then Dad discovered that during Hazel's earlier fit of grumpiness, she'd put three bars of soap in her coat pockets, which meant that we had to go back to Sunnyside and say, sorry, we're shoplifters. Which they were very nice about, but still: sigh.

Then we went home and put away the groceries and cleaned up the kitchen, because the sooner that stuff was done meant the sooner we could have watermelon, and really, if you haven't quite gotten hip to the fact that WATERMELON is ESSENTIAL, then you haven't really been paying attention, have you?

Then we went and worked on the garden, because even though Dad had planted most of the seeds earlier on in the week, we still had to plant the carrots, onions and radishes, so we put on our boots and grabbed our trowels (or 'shovels', as Hazel calls them) and started digging. The only problem we encountered was that we both wanted to plant things in the exact same spots, so after a bit of discussion, we decided that Hazel would get her very own special garden patch where she could plant whatever seeds she wanted, however she wanted to plant them, even if it meant dumping the seeds onto the ground, stepping on them, then picking them up and throwing them away, and then deciding to plant dandelions.

Which she did, while Dad got to meet the new neighbours who were asking about the garden, and then after a couple of minutes she realized that she'd been sitting in the dirt and decided to proclaim very loudly that she "had a dirty bum!". Which caused no small amount of laughter, which meant that Hazel decided her new favourite phrase was 'dirty bum'.

 

Then she decided that she'd had enough of digging, because the worms were coming out, so Dad helped her out of the garden (because it was surrounded by chicken wire because if Dad catches another one of those effing rabbits in the garden he's gonna throw a hammer at it but anyway -) and into a clean pair of pants, and then we decided that Hazel would watch Astroboy while Dad finished the gardening.

Then Dad remembered the he promised to drop some comics off at work for Tiffany's boyfriend to read (because Tiffany doesn't like comics unless they feature Batroc The Leaper, because she's dumb), so we went to Dad's work, and visited for a bit, and then got a peanut-butter-chocolate-chip cookie, because that's what Hazel had been chanting during the entire car ride there.

Then we came home and ate bunny noodles, because bunny noodles are delicious, and then we watched Wall-E while colouring a birthday card for someone secret whose birthday is coming up so we're not telling but anyway, then we went to bed. 

And now Dad has to go put sheets over his tomato plants, because he lives in Calgary, where we still get frost in May. Jeez.

Goddamn: In Siberia, Spaceships Fall From The Sky.

The cover to Jonas Bendiksen's book, Satellites. Can this be my back yard? Please?

via Angela Elliott.

Walking With Hazel: Lip-gloss, Pancakes, Parrots and Chumps.

See, the first thing we did on Saturday was get groceries, but we had to stop before we went into the store because Safeway has these huge blocks of stone that are just sitting out on their sidewalk, and Dad has to say that he has no idea what they're there for, but apparently it was very important that we pile gravel on top of them. Which we did. Then we went to the First grocery store (Sunnyside), where, among other things, we got flour (although we probably left more of it on the floor than in the bag we were s'posed to scoop it into) and tested out lip-gloss. Just the smell, mind you, because that's what's important, if you ask the Little Miss. Of course, Dad's a meanie, because he wouldn't buy any lip-gloss for Hazel, but, y'know, he's not really all that torn up about it.

Then we went to the Second store (Safeway) where Hazel picked out watermelon and cheese bread. Because that's all Safeway's good for, we guess.

Then we went to the library. We counted the bricks in the wall (twenty-seven!) and felt them with our hands and decided that they felt rough, and then we got books and then Hazel hid under a library cart for about five minutes before Dad actually found her.

Then we went and got slurpees, or at least one purple slurpee, but the straw was too long and poked the Little Miss in the eye, so dad cut it in half and it fit perfectly. 

Important breakthrough: the Little Miss now knows all the words to 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star' and will sing them for you if you ask, but she still has trouble with 'Rock-A-Bye Baby'; also of importance is the fact that the Little Miss prefers 'girl songs' to be played on the radio when driving in the car, but since Dad's driving, he figures he's allowed to play all the hip-hop or metal that he wants, as long as he keeps it quiet so that "everyone can hear the birds outside the window." 

When we got home, Hazel stood inthe doorway and pretended to be a witch and wouldn't let Dad in the house, so Dad stood outside with the groceries and cried. Then he went around to the front of the house and let himself in through the front door (cuz, y'know, we parked in the back...), and snuck up on Hazel and actually scared her for real, but everything was made okay through the liberal application of cheese buns.

Then we did laundry. Then Hazel noticed the hole in Dad's sock, and pretending that the big toe poking out was talking to her. Then we had the last of the chocolate bunny that our friend Stepha had brought for Hazel ALL THE WAY FROM GERMANY (HI STEPHA! THANKS FOR VISITING US!). Then we had dinner and then watched some baby shows and some hockey at the same time and Dad kept saying that "the NHL is totally rigged", and that "Vancouver is a buncha chumps", and then it was time for bed.

When we woke up we had pancakes, of course, because it's Sunday, and Hazel helped portion the flour and the sugar and crack the eggs, and then she even flipped TWO WHOLE PANCAKES, and then we had a nice treat: mom came over to help clear out all the bottles downstairs, which turned out to be about twelve garbage bags full or so, although we ended up giving two of them to some kids that were collecting bottles for their soccer team even though they looked kinda shifty.

Just kidding: Dad says that about ALL kids.

Then it was time to get dressed, but while Dad was helping Hazel put her clothes on, the Little Miss decided that she wanted to be a parrot, so she tried to climb up onto Dad's shoulder and instead ended up knocking him flat onto his back, which she thought was the funniest thing ever, so she decided to KEEP jumping onto Dad's shoulder and knocking him backwards, and we're not gonna talk about how sometimes Dad just wants to send Hazel off to work in a sweatshop, nah, just kidding, why in the world would anyone say that about their child? Honestly! People these days, y'know?

Later we went to Canadian Tire so that Dad could get a trowel for the compost (which has officially been dubbed 'gross' by the Little Miss) and rubber boots for stompin' around in, but then we also had to get boots for Hazel, just to be fair, and we found these ones that were kinda like pink camouflage and were way too big but we figured she'd grow into them, and then we found a baseball and glove for Hazel that Dad wishes weren't so pink, but that's what Hazel wanted, so what can you do? 

Then we went to Dad's work and showed off our new boots and got a cookie and played at the park, and there were two girls there who said they were sisters but lived in different houses, and Hazel climbed up the slide by herself and went down the slide by herself, and Dad was relieved because he was worried that he'd ALWAYS have to go down the slide with her, which wasn't that much of a problem except for the fact that his butt's getting too big for the slide.

Then it was time to come home, but because it was so nice out, we decided that we would try out Hazel's new bike, which we both decided was a very fine thing indeed, and then we went for a short walk up and down the block (because we're out of practice, y'see...), and we made sure to leave sticks out on the sidewalk for all the cats and dogs to chew on, because that's what they do. Then it was more dinner, then we read a book about the moon, and now it's time for bed.

And, yes, Vancouver is a buncha chumps. The hockey team, that is.

Walking WIth Hazel: Puddle-Splashing Etiquette

"You have to splash until all the water is gone, and pink is for girls, and purple is for boys, and brown is for boys, and the puddles are shiny! They sparkle, which means that they are for girls, not for boys, because girls need magic!"

"Girls need magic?"

"Uh-huh."

"What do boys need, then?"

"Exercise."

You heard it here first.

Goddamn: Introducing A New Segment On 'No Blood No Foul' In Which Our Lord's Name Is Taken In Vain Many Times.

Trying something new. Because sometimes, you hear a song, you read a line or a paragraph, you see a picture, and that's all you can say, is: God. Damn. In a good way, though, y'know?

So: I'm late to the party on this one, but Aloe Blacc's "I Need A Dollar"? An honest-to-goodness contemporary mixture of Marvin Gaye, Sam Cooke and Al Green? No, sir, I'm afraid that's far too awesome to be allowed to exist. Goddamn.

Y'know What's Cool? Women Are Cool.

Or, "Gee, Boingboing sure gets a lot of traffic from me..."

Anyway: breaking internet silence. Not that I was keeping silent for any other reason than perpetual hibernation. It's the Official First Day Of Spring Which Means Winter Can Hurry Up And Die Now, Thank You Very Much, and we're still getting forecasts of "gobs and gobs of snow OMG WTF?!" (I swear to god that's what they said on the news honest.); it still feels like January out there, and something in my head makes me want to just sleep for another month. But: it's March, and stuff must be done, and if it takes waking up every day and pokin' my head outta my hole and spotting my shadow and chasing that fucker down with a 2x4 fulla nails to pull me outta this funk, well, then, call me a groundhog.


God, I know: that made NO sense.


Anyway: here's another one-two combo on how wimminfolk are gettin' things done:

1. Anonymous announces Anonymiss. (Interview with member Emma_A here.)

2. Pakistani actress Veena Malik verbally pimpslaps male detractors. Awe. Some:

That's it for now. Kali's making me write stuff about comics, so I gotta go do that, or she'll punch me. Call yr mothers and tell them you love 'em.

A Few Important Notes While We Wake From Hibernation:

1. It is not a fort, but rather a CASTLE. For a PRINCESS. Who is a PIRATE.

2. They are not chicken pox sores; they are SPARKLES.

3. Pirates say three things: "Arrr, Matey!", "Walk the plank!", and "Better catch the cook if you want some cake!"

4. It's okay to drink the bathwater if it tastes like licorice. Also: the soap is good for your belly.

5. It's okay to visit people in the bathroom, as long as you bring a toy for them to play with, too.

6. It's also okay to drink the dishwater, but it doesn't taste as good as the bathwater.

That's all for now. Updates to follow.