As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.
Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.
For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1
These are the memories of our time together…
This is Chester. I just told him it’s Dog Appreciation Day.
And it got the expected response, you don’t have a dog.
Agh.
Then I tell him that a neighbour had a dog just like the one we’re thinking of getting, and they’re going to lend him to us for a few hours.
You can’t do that. This is not a dog-friendly environment. Remember the last time you had a dog. Fleas in the carpet, stains on the wall, and as for toilet training…
Yes, he has a point. The last dog we had was almost a disaster, besides the fact it was ten times larger than Chester. Friendly though, when Chester didn’t hiss at him.
This dog, I say, is smaller, not much bigger than you. A jovial chap who doesn’t bark much, just when recalcitrant cats annoy him, so I’m told.
Who are you calling recalcitrant?
No mistaking that distinct look of displeasure, almost recalcitrant I thought.
It’s going to happen, get over it.
Was that a cat shrug I saw? Another icy stare just to chill the atmosphere in the room, and he leaves.
Yes, I do like stirring the pot. You think he’d know by now.
Staying at Hampton Inn and Suites downtown, whatever that means because it looks like we are in the middle of nowhere.
But, judging by the crowd in the breakfast room, it’s a popular hotel. Of course, it is Sunday morning so this could be the weekend escape people. Two things I remember about staying in Hampton Inns is firstly the waffles and whipped butter. It’s been five years but nothing has changed, they are as delicious as ever. The other, its where I discovered vanilla flavored milk for coffee, and it, too, is addictive.
They also used to have flat burgers that were made out of sausage meat which was delicious, but on the first day, they were not on the menu. Nevertheless, it was still a very yummy breakfast.
After some research into where we might find this pixmi unicorn, it appears that it is available at a ‘toys are us’ store in one of the suburbs of Vancouver. So, resuming the quest, we took a taxi to West Broadway, the street the store is located.
A quick search of the store finds where the toys we’re looking for are, after asking one of the sales staff, and we find there are at least a dozen of them. Apparently, they are not as popular in Canada as the might be in America. Cheaper too, because the exchange rate for Canadian dollars is much better than for American dollars. Still, 70 dollars for a stuffed toy is a lot of money. We also get some slime, stuff that our middle granddaughter seems to like playing with.
After shopping we set off down WestBroadway, the way we had come, looking for a taxi to return us to the hotel. There’s no question of walking back to the hotel.
A few hours later we walk to the observation tower, which was not very far from the hotel,
a place where we could get a 360-degree view of the city of Vancouver although it was very difficult to see any of the old buildings because they were hidden by the newer buildings, nor could we see the distant mountains because of the haze.
After leaving the tower we walked down Water Street to see the steam clock and the old world charm of a cobbled street and old buildings
We stopped at the Spaghetti Factory Italian restaurant for dinner and is so popular that we have to wait, 10 minutes to start with. It doesn’t take all that long to order and have the food delivered to the table. Inside the restaurant, there is an actual cable car but we didn’t get to sit in it.
I have steak, rare, mushrooms, and spaghetti with marinara sauce. No, marinara doesn’t mean seafood sauce but a very tasty tomato-based sauce. The steak was absolutely delicious and extremely tender which made it more difficult to cut with a steak knife.
The write up for the marinara sauce is, ‘it tastes so fresh because it is made directly from vine-ripened tomatoes, not from concentrate, packed within 6 hours of harvest. We combine them with fresh, high-quality ingredients such as caramelised onions, roasted garlic and extra virgin olive oil’.
Oh, and did I mention they have a streetcar right there in the middle of the restaurant
I’m definitely going to try and make this when we get home.
After dinner, we return to the observation tower, the ticket allowing us to go back more than once, and see the sights at night time. I can’t say it was all that spectacular.
Another day has gone, we are heading home tomorrow.
As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.
Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.
For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1
These are the memories of our time together…
This is Chester. We’ve been getting quite a few scam calls lately.
Like today, the caller said they were a technician from Telstra, our leading telecommunications company in this country.
The scammers think that most if not all people are with Telstra. The problem is, it’s a lot less than they think.
Hence getting the phone slammed down in their ear, because nearly everyone knows they’re scammers.
So, Chester gives me the death stare after today’s effort. it’s not the first time, and the banging noise startles him if he’s asleep.
That’s enough yelling and banging the phone, he says.
Then you answer the phone and sort them out.
You know I can’t do that.
Well, you should I say. They always ask for the owner of the house, and that’s you isn’t it?
No, I just live here.
I snort this time.
I make your bed, get you foot, clean the little, put up with your cantankerous ways. If you’re going to behave like that, then you have to start taking responsibility.
He gives me that condescending look reserved for the servants.
As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.
Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.
For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1
These are the memories of our time together…
This is Chester. I’ve just dropped the bombshell we’re thinking of getting a dog.
So, the first response from him: Well, the last dog didn’t turn out so well, did it?
We didn’t tell him what happened to the dog, but maybe he’s psychic.
Or is that psycho?
Anyway, the last dog we had moved to my son’s place when he moved, and shortly after, broke his hip and had to be put down.
So I say, that dog moved when my son left. I don’t have any more sons living in, so that won’t be a problem.
It’s going to be a mistake.
Oh, how?
You know they all start out like soft furry balls, like cat’s I’ll admit, but then they grow up, and up, and up, and up. And eat you out of house and home. Not like us lovable cats, we stay small furry balls, and don’t eat all that much.
No, you’re just fussy, and it’s like hell on earth getting you to eat.
Then stop buying the cheap stuff.
Cheap? Cheap? That last lot of food cost an arm and a leg. At least with a dog, it will eat anything, including scraps from the table.
He gives me that condescending look reserved for people who think they own or know cats.
As you wish, my Lord.
Then he walks off, head in the air and tail swishing in annoyance.
The Fairmont at Lake Louise, in Canada, is noted for its ice castle in winter. This has been created by the ice sculptor, Lee Ross since 2007, using about 150 blocks of ice, each weighing roughly 300 pounds.
When I first saw it, from a distance, looked like it was made out of plastic It’s not. Venturing out into the very, very cold, a close inspection showed it was made of ice. And, it’s not likely to melt in a hurry given the temperature when I went down to look at it was hovering around minus 10 degrees Fahrenheit. And that was the warmest part of the day.
There is nothing worse than, when lying in bed unable to get to sleep, you hear every noise in the house and out, but none worse than a dripping tap.
Its often not because someone forgot to turn the tap off, but a washer is on its last legs.
There are taps for the fallen brave, but aside from the fact that is the name of a piece of music, I think it’s also the title of a film. But taps itself is a bugle call at dusk, and also played at military funerals.
Then there’s that income stream that you can tap into, other than your next-door neighbours power supply.
But what would be far more interesting than to tap into a phone line and listen in? Despite the fact that eavesdroppers never hear anything good about themselves, you could learn something you didn’t want to know.
Then we can go back to the 1930s and a series of films that starred one of my favourite actors Fred Astaire, who was, of course, a tap dancer, along with Ginger Rogers.
In fact, my middle granddaughter is quite a good tap dancer.
And, lastly, was that a tap on the door, or a tap in the window?
As some may be aware, but many not, Chester, my faithful writing assistant, mice catcher, and general pain in the neck, passed away some months ago.
Recently I was running a series based on his adventures, under the title of Past Conversations with my cat.
For those who have not had the chance to read about all of his exploits I will run the series again from Episode 1
These are the memories of our time together…
This is Chester. He had been shocked by my transformation into someone he least likely expected to find in his domain.
After a chastisement, I told him he could expect more shocks in the days to follow.
Why he asks. All I want is a peaceful life lying in the sun by the window, and no pesky mice to chase.
Sorry, I say. I’m playing roles for my next book. Trying to get the feel for the character.
A drunk, a fool, and a man who does household chores. You’re failed in all three, just in case you want to know what I think.
I don’t.
The cat doesn’t have a sense of humour, or if he does, I’m not seeing it.
I think you’ve got it wrong. Not a drunk, a man with physical disabilities, not a fool but a clown who’s lost his will to perform, and yes, I am the one who does the cooking and cleaning,
And who’s in charge of feeding you? Anything else you care to add?
Looking good, keep up the good work, but how about fresh fish rather than that packet stuff.
This is sometimes how we must feel when overlooked or ignored, like a nobody.
And some people will treat you like a nobody, i.e someone who is just not important.
That’s just one use of the word.
Another might be…
Who did that to your room?
‘Nobody’ is the plaintiff reply. The infamous Mr. Nobody. We’ve never met him, but he’s always there. And, what’s more, he seems to be able to be in more than one place at a time.
Then there’s that time when there’s nobody in the room, nobody agreed with me, hell, that happens all the time, and when I rang your phone nobody answered.
Nobody? Was I expecting Mr. Nobody to answer? Surely the response should have been, ‘and you didn’t answer’.
Of course, let’s not delve too deep here, lest we might find out something we didn’t want to know.
I went to your house last night, but nobody was home.
How is it we refer to the people whom we know live in that house as ‘nobody’. Shouldn’t we be saying, ‘none of you was at home’?
It seems nobody is one of those words we often use in vain.
Thrills, Spills, and just a dash of Romance 