Pesca– Who???

Pesca– Who???.

Pesca– Who???

Holy moly and Sweet Lady Gaga, Amigos. The old woman Slow and Pretty have truly lost it. Seriously.

Two weeks ago I overheard this bizarre conversation between the two persons who are in charge of my well-being at Casa de Canterbury. Warning: exercise caution as you proceed to read.

Pretty: “You know, we’ve always talked about being vegetarians and I think it’s time to try.”

Slow: “Well, yes, I know we’ve always talked about being vegetarians, but why now, brown cow?”

Pretty: “I just watched a video of a cow trying to run away from a slaughterhouse.”

Lengthy silence.

Slow: “I see. Okay. Point taken. It’s time to become vegetarians. No more beef.”

This conversation took place on a Sunday afternoon when the Tennis Channel had an obscure tournament on and neither Slow nor Pretty was interested in it.

The next day was Monday, and here’s how the new diet talk went.

Pretty: “I forgot Monday night is 25-cent shrimp night at Rockaways.”

Slow: “Do vegetarians eat shrimp?”

Pretty: “Hmmmm. I’m not too sure, but we can’t miss 25-cent shrimp night, can we?”

Slow: “Hmmmm. No, I don’t think we can. But I won’t get the hamburger steak with my shrimp like I usually do because I’m a vegetarian.”

So off they went that Monday night to Rockaways as their nouveau vegetarian selves.

Please. Well, after they came home full of fried shrimp, Pretty surfed the internet to see what she could discover about vegetarians and fried shrimp and what do you think she was able to find?

Presbyterians? No. Pescaterians. P-e-s-c-a-t-e-r-i-a-n-s. Apparently these are vegetarians who eat fish. So  she spelled it out for Slow who was happy to be something that ate fried shrimp without a guilty conscience. Of course, she never wants to break a rule under any circumstances and feels  guilty if she even lusts about it in her heart so now shrimp was an “allowable.”

Sigh. Shit house mouse. The Red Man has burdens to bear with these two. The next thing you know they’ll be looking for Pescaterian Dog Food. Help – we need our chicken and beef!

Get me outta here, Percy…bacon, bacon, bacon…I dream of bacon. Beware the ides of salmon, Sports Fans.

 

Closet Not Necessarily a Four-Letter Word

Well Amigos, I can say that while living with two lesbians for fourteen years The Red Man has heard a LOT of talk about coming out of closets. As a matter of fact, “closet” is practically a four-letter word at Casa de Canterbury…

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not everyone got the “closet” memo

Spike in closet

Severe thunderstorms wig all of The Three Musketeers (Tennis Ball Obsessed Chelsea, Squirrel Chaser Spike and moi), and a really bad storm last night spooked Spike to take refuge in the pantry closet where he clearly felt safe.

Hm…I wonder if that’s why some of the gays loved their closets, too. Sweet Lady Gaga. Just imagine.

So Sports Fans, more bad weather is on the way tonight, and Spike is already heading for cover. I can’t really blame him. As a matter of fact, I’m getting a little nervous myself. That last flashing crackle of lightning was way too close for comfort.

Get me outta here Percy…where’s that Thunder Shirt when you need it…

Texas Company!

Well Amigos, we have had quite the maximum activity level going on at Casa de Canterbury for the past week. We had company meeting themselves coming and going up in here, and The Red Man was extremely happy to see friends and neighbors who came all the way from Worsham Street and beyond. Way beyond.

One of the Little Women of Worsham Street and a friend of hers drove up to see us last week and stayed for a few days, and Pretty kept them on the go with her antiquing while the old woman Slow tried to lay low since she’s got the pneumonia or the misery or the epizootey – whatever you want to call it. Anyway, she was allowed to make the trek to Hopkins to visit with Cookie Man Dick and Cerebral Curtis at their old home place because she said she would pitch a fit if she couldn’t get out of the house to go to the country.

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Little Woman of Worsham Street with her camera

She just loved being at the farm

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Cookie Man Dick and Pretty

Arranging the cushions on the outdoor furniture of course

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Pretty believes she takes pictures from the best angle

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Hm…Cerebral Curtis brought suspicious bag

Evidently the liquor cabinet was out of gin

According to the conversations at Casa de Canterbury later that evening, a good time was had by all – including the old woman Slow who regretted she was unable to participate in the adult beverages due to her countless drugs. Rumor has it the Publix Pharmacy is naming a cash register in her honor.

And then surprise, surprise Slow’s roommate from college back at UT (hook ’em) in Austin popped in with her husband for a visit Sunday evening and took off to head back to Paris, Texas this morning. For real, Paris, Texas. And for real, this is the only roommate who has remained friends with Slow for lo, these fifty years. Slow had a ton of roommates during her three-year stay at UT, but unfortunately none of them liked her very well and would move on after a semester.

But this College Roommate was a big hit with The Red Man because she is a faithful follower of his rants and raves and wanted to see moi before she even talked to Pretty and Slow. Clearly a woman of good taste.

And so Sports Fans, the casa is way too quiet without visitors and without the TV on in the background playing Wimbledon round the clock, too. The tournament summary for our house is Rafa went out early, Roger lost in the final, and Serena made even more history. The Red Man sends Paw Snaps and Twirls to Serena for her twenty-first grand slam title and to Novak Djokovic for his spectacular win in the gentlemen’s final. We are now officially in Wimbledon Withdrawal.

Get me outta here, Percy…I need to catch up with Castle or Bones or NCIS this afternoon.

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The Red Man loves this picture of Pretty at the farm

HR Notice: Vacancy Filled

Notice to all applicants for the Editor position for The Red Man’s blog: the position has been filled.

The old woman Slow has seen the error of her ways and has agreed to do better. She is determined to be cheerful and amicable and work harder than ever as we look toward our four-year Anniversary Celebration of our Rants and Raves in August, and so The Red Man who is known for his forgiving spirit and kind heart has told her she can keep the job.

That’s right. No more whining about long work hours. No more complaining about equal pay for equal work. Blah, blah.blah. No more personal days for “medical emergencies.” She has confessed her sins and repented. Praise Lady Gaga.

She is sorry for her poor work habits lately and will be watching fewer Wimbledon matches during the second week this week. (Of course, she needn’t think she’s pulling a fast one over moi…I know there ARE fewer televised matches this week.)

Thanks to all of our Amigos in cyberspace for your comments and suggestions. They are duly noted and much appreciated.

But for now, the Dream Team remains intact.

And speaking of Dream Teams, Paw Snaps and Twirls to the US Women’s Soccer Team in their awesome victory last night! Casa de Canterbury roared when that girl Carli Lloyd kicked the round ball from Wherever to Kingdom Come. Won’t see that one again for a while, but it was sure fun while it lasted. Hope those girls are celebrating big time today.

Get me outta here, Percy…we got big things going on here tomorrow…one of the Little Women of Worsham Street will be visiting all the way from Texas…stay tuned.

 

HELP WANTED!

EDITOR WANTED: POSITION AVAILABLE IMMEDIATELY

Creative Welsh Terrier blogger seeks reliable YOUNG Editor for blog with international following. Must not request time off for doctors appointments to include general practitioners, orthopedists, optometrists, dermatologists, dentists and doctors express (particularly in the same week). Must not request personal days for mini-vacations to Tennessee. Must be punctual and in happy frame of mind whenever working. No watching any of the Four Major Tennis Slams on TV will be permitted during working hours. No complaining about assignments will be tolerated. No whining about overtime, either. Do not apply if you are over 40 years of age and/or take more than 20 pills per day including vitamins. Salary negotiable. Remember: old people should not apply.

P.S. Happy Fourth of July, America from Casa de Canterbury to all our Amigos and Sports Fans in cyberspace – celebrate!

Country Roads, Take Me Home

First of all, let me just say that The Red Man is – and always has been – a Truth Seeker. Under most circumstances a visit to Samadhi, the Healing Arts Center in Johnson City, Tennessee with sympatica Amigas who provide spiritual enlightenment and alternative treatments for the aches and pains and vicissitudes of life would be a bonus on any vacation; however, unfortunately my nerves were a little jagged from the lengthy ride up the road from South Carolina to Rocky Top Land. Sweet Lady Gaga. I thought I would never be able to stretch my legs…so I’m afraid I couldn’t relax at the Relaxation Mecca on Day Two of our mini-vacation.

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Love the floors – just right for pacing

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Pretty got right into the spirit of things with Tenn Amiga and sound therapy

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OMG – another covered bridge

The next day (Day Three for those who are counting) the old woman Slow and Tenn Amiga visited yet another covered bridge in Elizabethton, Tenn while Pretty checked out the antique stores. Big difference in this bridge, though. The place was overrun with DUCKS.

Quack, quack – who’s there?

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 Nice Ducky

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Seriously?

To add insult to injury, the final stop at the end of Day Three was Elk Falls. Do I detect an aquatic theme here…what is wrong with you, Pretty? You know Slow has a water phobia. Thank God for her zoom lens or we would have no record of our fun whatsoever.

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Okay, Elk Falls truly scare me. Stick a fork in me, I’m done with Water Adventures. Get me to land and take me home, country roads. Adios, aquatics.

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Slow and Pretty with moi on dry land in West Asheville, NC

(photo courtesy of Huss Brothers’ grandparents)

All’s well that ends well, Sports Fans, as The Red Man is fond of saying, and once again we are all safe and sound under the same roof at Casa de Canterbury after a brief detour to visit Hottie Doc Too on the way into Columbia on Day Four since apparently the Water Adventures gave me a bacterial ear infection.

I’m telling you – Pretty’s retirement is killing me.

Get me outta here, Percy…I’ve got to get to bed early tonight because Wimbledon starts bright and early tomorrow morning at the crack of dawn.  Trust me. I’m ready for some indoor entertainment.

They Call THIS Retirement?

Well Amigos, The Red Man has seen the Green Weenie the past few days, as the old woman Slow’s grandmother used to say whenever she saw too much of a good thing. Since Pretty has retired from the Mast General Store, The Red Man has been a doggie on the move.

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Father’s Day in the Upstate with Pretty’s family

So Pretty got the brilliant idea to take a barbecue picnic up to her daddy’s place in Landrum, SC and her daddy had the brilliant idea to have the picnic up at this covered bridge which was somewhere out in the boonies and the supposedly famous saying about how it’s always 10 degrees COOLER in the Upstate was clearly proven to be a bald-faced lie. It was hotter than you could imagine in your wildest imagination of hot, and The Red Man was forced to cool off in the little stream running under the covered bridge. Pretty was fine with that.

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Always nice to make new friends

Other people had decided to picnic at the old covered bridge, and we all ended up in the water to try to survive the heat and humidity.

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Getting out of the water was tricky – the rocks were as slippery as glass

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Thank God for Pretty who was also barefoot in the stream with moi

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Meanwhile back at the picnic,

The old woman Slow got the last of the Super Delicious Chocolate Cake

(cake courtesy of our good friend  Baker Jim)

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Pretty took me to see the Campbell’s Covered Bridge

(which begged the question, what’s the Big Deal about a bridge?)

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The Red Man looks a lot more refreshed than Slow does

Yessiree, the heat is hard on Slow, but she kept a good attitude because we wrapped up the picnic and drove around in the air-conditioned car for what seemed like days and days.

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We definitely saw some sights…and found out where they came from

So Sports Fans, Father’s Day was a long, exhausting day for The Red Man, and this was only Day One of our travels. Stay tuned.

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Get me outta here, Percy…The Red Man is trying to recover from Pretty’s retirement.

Get Well? Unlikely – but Say It with Flowers

Well Amigos, The Red Man was shocked when the delivery came for the old woman Slow this afternoon to Casa de Canterbury from two of our faithful followers: JB and Ed.

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As you can see, this very beautiful arrangement has now found a place of honor in Slow’s office next to her Saloon Girl, which is her favorite piece (heh, heh). Get Well??  There is some question as to whether Slow has ever REALLY been well, but we can always hope.

Slow has been confined to quarters for the past two weeks but is getting around better after a cortisone shot in her knee and more magic pills. Today she went to Rush’s to get a chocolate shake so apparently she will live to fight another day. The old woman keeps on rolling, and the flowers definitely improved her disposition which has been sketchy at best lately.

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Give the Elgin Florists two thumbs up for the little doggie face on the carnations – now that’s some creativity The Red Man finds inspiring. Thanks so very much to our Amigos for trying to spread a little cheer to Slow. She seems extremely grateful.

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Spike, on the other hand, not too interested.

Get me outta here Percy, I think it’s time to pop some pills…catch ya later, Sports Fans – hope your weekend is a super one – if you’d like to visit with Slow and Pretty in person, come to the Art Show Benefit tomorrow afternoon. They’re serving wine and little goodies, too.

High Drama from Slow and Pretty

Well Amigos, the old woman Slow has been in bed for the past four days with assorted ailments and The Red Man says frankly, my dear, I don’t give a damn. Serves her right for one of her clandestine visits to our old home place on Worsham Street last week without so much as a fare thee well or kiss my paw to anyone at Casa de Canterbury. She has a sinus infection, thank yew very much. I am sure she caught that flying the sickly skies – plus she came back hobbling along with a cane.

Now there’s a story for you. According to what she told Pretty when she got back from the Texas Trip, Slow was in charge of the two younger of the Fabulous Huss Brothers while their mother was doing her morning treadmill workout in their  Worsham Street casa Friday morning. Oscar, the oldest was in school and Commander Huss was away teaching Navy pilots how to fly.

 

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Oscar goes to kindergarten – he is now 6 

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George is the baby (2) – such a sweet expression

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Dwight (4) – the picture of innocence

Apparently the two younger Huss Brothers asked Slow if she would take them to ride their trikes down the street in the huge Jehovah’s Witness Church parking lot which the church had paved from Paradise.  Heh, heh. My little Paved Paradise and made it a Parking Lot joke. Slow was happy to take them so the boys put on their shoes for the adventure and off they went. Hi, ho, hi, ho.

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 After a lengthy play time in the JWC parking lot, Slow told the boys they needed to make their way back home – at which point the events took an unfortunate turn. The conversation must have gone something like this.

Slow: All right, boys, let’s head back to the house.

Dwight: I’m not going home.

Slow: Yes, you are.

Dwight: No, I’m not.

And with this, he turned his trike around and started pedaling as fast as he could in the opposite direction. Lickety-split fast pedaling. Slow lunged to catch George who had turned around to follow Dwight, but George was too quick for her, and he took off like the Hounds of the Baskervilles were after him, too.

Of course, the old woman Slow started running after them. Running, mind you. As if. Well, she ran through the streets and she ran through the JWC parking lot which is where the Huss Brothers retraced their route. She hollered and hollered for them to stop, and the louder she hollered – the faster they pedaled.

They pedaled all the way to Old Plantersville Road, which had lots more traffic than Worsham Street and that was when Slow panicked and stopped to text Mother Huss for help. She found out later Mother Huss had been on the phone with a neighbor who was convinced federal troops were about to invade Texas so she didn’t see the text right away. That was a hard conversation to cut short.

By this time Slow saw the runaways had crossed OPR and pedaled into the New Old Montgomery Cemetery and were racing along the U-shaped paved road through the stones and markers. They were headed up and around so Slow stopped to catch her breath and wisely decided to watch them and head them off when they came around to OPR again.

The next events were a blur, according to Slow, but somehow she yanked the trikes away from both boys who were stunned to see she had outwitted them and even more surprised to see Mother Huss who by now had caught up with them and spanked each one as the solitary car on OPR stopped to allow this drama to unfold. The car was a Driver’s Ed vehicle, and the student driver was sure to have the best story of the day.

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Where did we go wrong?

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All’s well that ends well, as The Red Man is fond of saying, and the younger Huss Brothers were brought home safe and sound by their mother. Slow returned safe…but sound was a different matter. She hasn’t been mobile on her own since then.  Running at her age was a bit too ambitious.

The Red Man is unsympathetic. Talk about sneaking off. Dwight and George at least had the common decency of telling Slow their plan. The old woman Slow told no one about hers except maybe Pretty but Pretty is unreliable lately due to the fact she has resigned her position at the Mast General Store and is giddy, giddy, giddy with her new freedom. Sweet Lady Gaga. Pretty is free. Slow is under house arrest – confined to her bed – with a new set of pills to swallow.

Get me outta here, Percy…I think I’m losing my grip on the universe…stay tuned, Sports Fans.

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