Bit of a rainy Father’s Day.

It’s Sunday morning,  and I gotta do laundry.  

If a song tune just went through your head,  then we all know how old you are.

And fine,  “Happy Father’s Day” to all the Dads out there.  My “Dad Duties” of late have mostly consisted of being the unpaid helper.  But isn’t that the way it works?  Or getting brief phone calls that start off with,  “OK, we’re not sure which way this should by installed.”   I usually always have the answer, with the exception of anything relating to a computer of course.  Those kinds of questions always go the other way which, at least for Travelling Companion and I,  is the way that works.

We were briefly talking the other day about just where would you begin to explain something like Skype to MY Father,  who has been gone now for over 25 years.   This a man who swore up and down that the theatre seats at Ontario Place were actually moving when I took him and Mom there to see "North of Superior".  This was back in the ‘70s.  I recall how the entire audience gasped to take in a breath as the canoe we were “riding” in went under water.   It was quite the experience.

But I wasn’t going to win the argument with him about the seats.  There was no point in even going there, which was something that all the kids figured out in due time.  No point being a smart ass.  You’d just get a whoopin’.   Actually,  I was fortunate enough to not get anything close to a “whoopin'”,  since I had had the good fortune to observe that particular dynamic as it related to my older brothers.   That’s when it really does not suck to be the youngest.  You get to observe.

Mental note, don’t piss off the Old Man.  Words to live by.

 

Speaking of young and old (it’s a lame segue, I’ll admit) I got a call from Daughter Number One Friday afternoon asking if I was going to the pub?   I pointed out that having the one vehicle kind of puts a damper on that activity,  but when she offered to come by and fetch me,  that seemed like a heck of an idea.   I’ve been tempted to hop on the bike and head off to the pub,  but there’s always that nagging thought of having to then ride back home again.  It’s way over on the other side of town (well,  downtown really)  so….,  we’ll work up to that.  Maybe.

Just the same though,  we discovered that there was a Slow Pitch tournament going on not too far from here,  and I opted to ride on up there later in the evening.  

Sad to say,  we’re a long way from having anything that remotely resembles “bike infrastructure” here in Burlington,  and I consider painting chevrons on the side of the road with the outline of a bike above them as simply a waste of perfectly good traffic paint.  This is when I really miss the Netherlands,  but let’s not get all maudlin.

The tournament was going all weekend,  but after staying there until well after 11:00 p.m. Friday night,  I figured I had seen enough “Slow Pitch”  for a while.   This is the Burlington Oldtimers Slo-Pitch,  by the way,  for which you only need to be 35 years old to be considered an “Old Timer”.   Say what??    Geez, and here I’ve been an “Old Timer” for a while now.  

 

We didn’t actually get there in time to see any one play whom we knew,  but it didn’t matter.  It’s a whole “gathering” thing going on there,  with a BBQ,  music,  Bar Maids.   Beer.   Lots of beer.   Glad I rode the bike. 

By the way,  the metal bucket there, is for the fifty-fifty draw.  Damned if I completely forgot and left without giving Daughter Number One my three tickets.  Such extravagance. 

 

I didn’t quite realise there would be food there,  so I figured T.C. and I had better have something to eat in the way of “supper”,  but of course had no clue what to come up with.  So we made an omelette.   I’d like to say “I” made the omelette,  but I did have to ask a couple questions,  even though I was operating the spatula.  So it doesn’t count as a solo effort.

It was danged tasty,  especially as I had earlier cooked up a bunch of bacon that was getting close to “decision time”.  Can’t keep it forever,  but it’ll keep nicely if cooked and put back in the fridge.  I think the cooked bacon made the difference.

I’m getting hungry just thinking about it….

 

So I think it’s time for breakfast.  Gotta go.

 

Thanks for stopping by.