George Michaels

This morning we let the dog out, and after a few minutes noticed that he hadn’t come back in yet.  Wait a minute.  This is unusual.  What’s going on?  I stepped out on the back porch to call him.  He came, but then I noticed the garbage can had been knocked over & the lid was off.  It’s one of those tall Rubbermaid cans with the handles that supposedly lock the lid in place.  Oh yeah…locked in place unless you’re a raccoon!  So that’s how my Rainy Day Monday started…picking up garbage in the rain…in the dark…hoping the raccoons aren’t still IN the garbage can.  I’ve seen people with their lids strapped down.  I think they’re actually called “Raccoon Straps”.  I just may invest in some today.

Golf & Sex.  The only two things in the world you don’t have to be good at to enjoy.  I read that on a coffee mug once, and just thought it was so funny.   Had somebody told me two years ago that I would take up golf, I would’ve thought they were crazy.  Okay, let’s see if I understand.  You hit the ball, you go to where the ball is (in my case, good luck finding it!), then you hit the ball again.  You keep doing this until the ball eventually lands in a hole.  Then you bend over, pick up the ball, and start all over again.  Where’s the enjoyment factor in that?  And yet, I can’t believe how hooked I am on this game.  I watch the Golf Channel constantly, subscribe to Golf Digest…if this were a written exam, I’d ace it.  A few weeks ago, when the weather started to finally turn nice, I couldn’t step out the door without thinking “Man, I wish I was on the golf course.”  What a change from just two years ago.  Well yesterday, we finally got out for the first time this year.  “We” being my wife & I.  I can’t imagine anyone else having the patience to golf with me.  For my golf balls, it was a day at the beach.  They were either playing in the sand, or frollicking in the water.  As for me…well let’s just say my game’s pretty consistant with what it was last year.  But in spite of that, it was sunny, 21 degrees, we’re outside enjoying a nice walk.  The coffee mug was right.      

   Last Friday night, after coming home from our 12-hour Radiothon at Connestoga Mall, Carole & I had a light supper, then settled into the loveseat to unwind with a little TV.  All of a sudden, the doorbell rings, and standing there was this couple I’d never seen before.  “Hi, sorry to bother you” they said, “but we just noticed a raccoon…a very large one…climb down your chimney.”  Wonderful!  We’ve lived in this house for 13 years, and for 13 years I’ve been meaning to put a cap on that chimney.  So, I figured this might be a good time to do that.  I’d get up in the morning, go to the hardware store & pick one up, climb up on the roof & install it myself.  Well, my first thought was “Hey, wait a minute. That’s a long way up.”  My second thought: much worse…”What if the raccoon is still in the chimney when I put the cap on?  He gets trapped in their & dies.  Wouldn’t that be a lovely smell!  Or, worse still…what if he comes running up the chimney as I’m putting the cap on?”
   I like to think the one thing that over the years has probably saved me thousands of dollars, and endless frustration, is that I know when a job’s too big for me.  This definitely required a professional.  So Saturday morning I picked up the phone, and booked somebody to come out as soon as possible.  Tuesday?  Fine.  The lady on the phone told me the price, and then told me there would be an extra charge if the animal was still in there, and it had to be removed.  And…then there’s also the possibility that it was a female raccoon who decided my chimney would be a great place to have her babies.

   Tuesday afternoon rolls around.  A nice young guy by the name of Kamil shows up.  On time!  Well, actually early.  Even better.  I take him downstairs & show him the pipe that comes out of the wall that used to be hooked up to a woodstove that the previous owner had (unsafely) put in.  He pulls off the cover, gags a bit, stumbles back a little, and says “this is the worst case scenario”.  Imagine how thrilled I am at this point.  I try to open the basement windows.  They don’t open.  Thirteen years of trying to get around to painting the windows.  These are two I actually did get around to painting.  And I guess I painted them shut. 
    Well, after he (how do I put this delicately) shoveled some of the…stuff…out of the pipe, he said something that was a big relief for both of us.  First of all, the raccoon wasn’t in my chimney right this minute.  (I’d had visions of this thing…they can be up to 40 pounds!…flying out into the room, and just going berserk)  And secondly, the raccoon didn’t have babies in my chimney.  I learned that raccoons like to have a couple of chimney-homes.  The lucky ones like me have their chimney turned into a toilet.  The unlucky ones have their chimneys turned into nurseries!  He then told me I ought to warn my neighbours, because they don’t have caps on their chimneys either.  And they’ve had more than 13 years.  Yes, their windows look better, and their lawns are golf-course quality, but at least I can say I was the first…well unless you count John, and Doug, and Mike…well, maybe not the first, but at least I can say I have been able to hang a “No Vacancy ” sign on my chimney. 

Finally!  All that sunshine.  Those pleasant temperatures.  We took the dog for I don’t know how many walks.  And, yes, we barbecued.  Twice.  On Saturday, it was Angus Beef steaks on the grill, followed by Montecristos on the patio.  But we couldn’t get the patio chairs out of the tool shed.  There’s still a pile of snow & ice in front of the doors of the shed.  It’s one of those places that never sees the sun.  I wound up getting a couple of lawn chairs out of the garage.  I’m hoping with all the mild temperatures & rain in the forecast this week, it melts the snow.    Sunday, it was BBQ-ed chicken.  (Technically grilled, not bbq-ed.  But that’s another blog for another day.)  Wouldn’t it be great if this was what all our weekends will be like this spring & summer!

Baseball’s back for another season.  Go Tigers!  And, yes, Go Jays!…unless they’re playing the Tigers.  But here’s what bugs me.  People who take cell phones to the game.  I understand if you’ve got little ones that you’ve left with the sitter and you want to be available, in case there’s a problem.  These aren’t the people I’m talking about.The guy I’m talking about is the guy in the first row, right behind home plate…or just above the home team’s dugout…seats you or I couldn’t buy if we tried.  Is he paying attention to the game?  No.  He’s on his phone!  But wait…it gets worse.  He’s on the phone with his buddy who’s watching the game at home.  Wait, wait…now it gets totally ridiculous.  He’s now waving at his buddy!  “Hey, can you see me?  Is the camera on me?  I’m wavin’ to ya’”  What a goof! Here’s what I think the people broadcasting these games ought to do.  You know how sometimes the guy doing the colour commentary will write stuff on the screen.  I think it’d be so awesome if they just put a big “L” over this clown’s face.  “Yeah man, I see ya’.  But guess what!”