i think it would be easier to teach someone how to fly rather than understanding them in the fine art of recycling. i have just figured out how to sort laundry. teach this in school for corn sakes.

if faced with a large bowl of freshly opened Ruffles chips right next to an even fresher array of new fruits i will almost always choose the potato. of course the fruits would be better for me. we all know that. none of us can read the ingredients on the back of a pear or a banana but we all know that the goodness packed into the chips may in fact be killing us. fat tastes good.
this is true.
my heart just skipped a beat.
whatever they extract from Coke to make Diet Coke is just wrong. it is the best part of the potion. take salt off my snacks and i will just head for the apples and oranges. remove the fatty goodness and i will be left with trail mix stuck between my teeth and very unsatisfied. i have walked trails i have yet to see any of the ingredients enclosed. save for the bark and tiny rocks. do not kid yourself they are there. the middle one brought home a bag with nuts and berries and shells and in the mix were MandM’s!! are you kidding me? of course we ate the whole bag together and wondered if they would have this concoction this side of heavens door.
there was chocolate in the field mix. give me a kit kat!!!
seriously confused.

i blame my mom. the spuds in bags were restricted from our homes. we were only allowed pretzels and popcorn. not the jiffy variety but the on the stove in the cast iron pot kind half of which most always burned no matter how much attention you paid to shuffling the pot. and forget about golden topping. we grew up with marg.(pronounced mar ja ) and it never came close to butter. parents lie. it was used for repairing paved driveways and tending to cuts and abrasions on boxers upper eyelids. leave it out mid july and just forget about it. it is now poured not spread. the advent of colour is perhaps one of the greatest inventions of the seventies. they too fooled us. colour can do this. it went from disturbing deep sunshine yellow to auburn maybe even jaundice. and that was ok. i could live with it. it would never enter my home again.
once buttered twice… you know the rest.

uncle ray has been seen in classrooms telling young kids about the wholeness and character building needed for life. he has even penned his stories on the outside of the bags! google him. much like colonel saunders prescribing the health benefits of the dirty bird to us for a complete diet in his day. chips will not build character. chicken kills.

but let me return to the chips. a friend told me to try the baked ones.

done. check mark
another said try the rice cakes.
why. question mark
wedge like crackers
forgotten. left no mark

chips are my krypotnite. my porn. my peelers.
sprinkle them over my grave when i pass. administer them when i am down. keep them out of reach when i am weak. have them handy at gatherings as i will stand near them and converse freely.

this kid from next door who lives in the apartment was showing me his dog while i was re attaching this lost cat poster to a nearby telephone pole. i told him that this owner must be sad as there seems to be alot of lost cat posters up all around town. he noticed that the cat looked incredibly like his cat. i told him it looked just like my cat and perhaps my cat was lost. he laughed and said not unless your cat’s name is Gordon! we both were amused by this and i told him my cat was named Bother. he said Gordon was a strange name for a cat and asked why would anyone name their cat that? he then went on to tell me after a police cruiser sped by that the cops were at his door yesterday asking questions because his old man just had been busted. i said hmmm and continued fastening the duck-tape to the poster wishing i had a staple-gun while my mind was calculating the slim chance in life this kid had. after that math was finished i figured i would ask the question everyone wanted to know.

so tell me.
what is your dogs name?

with leash taunt and tail wagging he proudly exclaimed this is Greaseball! i said who would name their dog that? without flinching he said… a mechanic.
of course. that is a good name. i then asked him with much interest what is his handle? what do they call you? if you went to summer camp what letters would mom put on the tags of all your clothes? what did your parents finally settle on. tell me your name for heavens sake.

my name is Dillinger. they call me Dillinger.

indeed.
we agreed we would see each other around.

today i moved a couch up a few flights of stairs. the couch in question was ripe with febreeze. so much so that i could taste it. the kid who wrestled the sofa with me said it was burning his eyes. he told me the lady who gave it to us also smelled the same. this was entirely possible. it was like spraying too much bugscreen on and the airborne linger touches your tongue. (the word linger is perfectly designed. i told someone the other day the word drab also wears itself well. perfect. it is as though it is comfortable in its own skin and is phonetically and fearfully made.)
there are worst smells but today i wasn’t able to imagine any. minutes before i taught the kid the history of the robertson screw and he told me he was still fighting with his girlfriend and he really wanted a new amp for his stereo. he then told me he was going home to get some frozen burgers for lunch as his aunt had an indoor grill and would fix them up for him. his day was full and i was happy he was such a beautiful helper. never complained. he had opportunity to. he stayed the course.
trooper.
i also may have said that the slot screw was fashioned in hell. he agreed but said he wasn’t very mechanically inclined. i told him to give himself more credit and go easy on himself. with a goofy grin he said he would try.
more people should try.

this is my favourite picture taken of late. my friend tells me light on objects are what set great pictures apart from the rest. am sure photoshoping doesn’t hurt either. one day i full wear a full on crusader outfit and pretend to hang with Arthur and his round table riders.

i wish i could lay claim to the photo but i was merely the stager. another was the shooter.

here also is my current favourite song. my dj has it on steady rotation. i am a sucker for good poetry placed neatly into four four or four nine time signatures, a rock steady beat and a decent hook. if i knew how to embed the file here i would. so for sake of unlearned and cowardice for learning such i will cut and paste the lyrics. making this the longest post in history of the fertilizer. where the seeds of creativity and the soil of expression conspire.

enjoy readers of mine. add a jangly beat. keep it steady. do not waver.

Deep in the belly of a whale I found her
Down with a deep blue jail around her
Running her hands through the ribs of the dark
Florence and Calamity and Joan of Arc

I love the way she looks in her underwear
I lose my page in the book then the plot then I swear
She makes the most of her time by loving me plenty
She knows there’ll come a day when we won’t be getting any

Stain of the sepia of the butcher Crimea
Through the rack of a brass band I thought I could see her
In a cake walk she came through the dead and the lame
Just a little bird floating on a hurricane

I was flat on my back my feet in the thorns
I was in between the apples and the chloroform
She came to me often I was sure I was dying
It was always hard to tell if she was laughing or crying

I thought I heard somebody calling in the dark
I thought I heard somebody call

Joan never cared about the in betweens
Combed her hair with the blade did the maid of Orleans
Said Christ could walk on water we can wade through the war
You don’t need to tell me who the fire is for
Oh bring me a love that can sweeten a sword
A boat that can love the rocks and the shore
The love of the nice but reaching out for the wreck
Can you love me like the crosses love the nape of the neck

Was is Casey Jones or Casey at the Bat
Who died out of pride and got famous for that
Killed by a swerve laid low by the curve
Do you think they ever thought they got what they deserve
Don’t pity the bullet and pity the man
Who both find their place in the same sad plan
We’re both like the barrels going over the falls
Crying all the way down I never asked to be involved

I thought I heard somebody calling in the dark
I thought I heard somebody call

General Jones began the day by taking pink little pills
Sent his men to the top of some hell of a hill
Through the whisper of trees came artillery breeze
Said I love the way the wind comes a’tickling my knees
Jane shot the apple right between the eyes
I thought of her when you came outside
Lemonade on your breath the sun in your hair
Did I mention how I love you in your underwear

Deep in the belly of a whale I found her
Down with a deep blue jail around her
Running her hands through the ribs of the dark
Florence and Calamity and Joan of Arc

I thought I heard somebody calling in the dark
I thought I heard somebody call
I thought I heard somebody calling in the dark
I thought I heard somebody call
-josh ritter

easter is upon us. the season of eggs, dead kings and graverobbers. where a coronation speech is breathed from a cross of rough hewn timber and shore lunches and garden visits are all the rage.

those who judged for themselves would never be the same.
ever

with the spring mix upon us i humbly submit this sure to savour and hopefully satisfy salad recipe. for all the salad enthusiasts who need crunchy things this may not be your salad. this is a salad you may grow old with. they will serve it in nursing homes with a jello or custard chaser.

take a half a pail of spring mix (try not to spend for than 5 bucks for a container)and pour it in a large bowl or suitable container. perhaps an old ice cream tub. the next day you can just use the half empty spring mix container if you want to start again. some products say that they are pre-washed. i usually trust this but perhaps most will not. wash if you need to. after that add
strawberries diced or halved or perhaps cubed. stir in gingerly.
then comes some garden read pine nuts sprinkled throughout. use sparingly as they cost a bunch but are required. the hardest part is the application of the delicious and sometimes overlooked goat cheese. this is grated over the entire body of greens. perhaps a reader can tell me an easier way of doing this as the consistency and the size of the curd is far from uniform. you are almost there now.
take a small cup of honey and microwave until runny and then pour over entire mix. honey never goes bad so don’t be afraid to heat up an old jar. the last one i did had traces of peanut butter but no one noticed. then top off with balsamic vinaigrette salad dressing to taste. this is not a caesar so not too much. just a hint makes for happy diners.

this recipe serves four well with a bit left over in the bowl to fight over. i have done my best to use culinary terms when able.

next week i will be submitting a divine rice pudding recipe.

i like where this blog is heading.

the other day i did a load of laundry with shampoo and ate a can of chick peas on purpose.
recession.
they are the king of beans and my delicates turned out smashingly. the hartt attack got a job at a united church as a maintenance man. he will do well. he tells me that on tuesdays a group of gray hairs meets with crochet apparatus and knitting needles. they are called the “happy hookers” we both laughed and wished we had some as they make great casseroles and triangle sandwiches. elderly not hookers incase i was not clear. clear as cake i have been as of late. i blame my diet or lack of eating between the hours of 8 and 5. taylor tells me i need more fish oil and blueberries as this keeps her head on straight.
she talks to birds.
today i stared down a freshly baked tray of cookies and won. i believe it was nothing short of a miracle. cookies have incredible persuasive powers.
i have on occasion been known to speak to cats.
i got a shovel for my birthday. i have become hard to buy for. today i bought a brand new pair of boots as i was tired of putting grocery bags in my hand-me down blundstones. i enjoy this boot. my first pair was found roadside after the students left town 5 years ago and my second pair was gifted to me with low mileage and love intended. they came at the right time. however without any seconds looming and six more months of winter projected (this morning the ground beef saw his shadow) i had to enter a mall against my will and purchase something new. the saleslady said as long as i do not wear them outside and keep the box i can return them. i was puzzled and said these will not be my indoor shoes but my daily drivers. i do not plan on returning to the mall at least not for a few more years and i already have plans for the box. oh ya my friend nate callhoun has a great conference coming up in march and he asked me to tell all my friends and post it here on my blog. so there is supposed to be a link and a jpeg and perhaps a movie trailer but seriously i do not have the where with all to make that happen so i will just leave it here and hope some of the eight readers i have will consider going and just google “conference with nate” if more information is required. tell em i sent you and they will probably give you a deep discount, a book mark or a coupon.
coupons. that is the next street i plan to go down. mail in rebates. i would continue to speak of little but i must put some conditioner in the rinse cycle.
until soon enjoy this shot of rustles volunteer of the month. he had over 56 bucks in sales and only missed three shifts due to illness.
a go getter of the greatest ilk.

our church went on a school-bus to have a christmas dinner with all the trimmings the other night. just a short drive north in the rural. our adopted church served us like champs and put the whole deal together. my favourite part of the night was the carol singing and learning the missing words to Rudolph the red nosed reindeer. like a light bulb?, monopoly?. man why did they keep this from me? now each festive song will have these refrains and responses this year.
silent night holy night
all is calm all is bright……like a light-bulb.
ok so it will need some work.
some of our rustle showed through but we made out pretty fair considering. the best thing overheard at dinner was “man if i knew the food was going to be this good i would have wore my track pants.”
joy to my world.

rain is falling in biblical proportions today and has left me worried. so i plan to sit in front of a warm television and yearn for a good hockey game. i have just learned that i don’t love raymond. i don’t care what everyone else does.

i may write this book and sell a million copies by mistake.

this week i happened upon what could only be termed as one of the greatest art discoveries of our time. in the bottom of a cardboard box with tupperware, dirty dishes and a few broken mugs i found this killer painting of a shark. it is probably a great white or a reef or maybe a female nurse. it has been years since the discovery channel has had be captivated during shark week so i may be off. i may take it to an aquatic museum and have it verified but for now i thank Rikki B grade 8 from odessa public school whoever you are for bringing great joy to my life this week.
i will hang this proud. and if you are out there rikki and you have lost this number and want it returned i will fully understand. but for now it goes in my den with mr perfects Kiss painting and a few other fridgidaire fantastics.

i may need to get some security.

over the past ten years i have been witness to many church networks. these exist to inform, engage and possibly connect us to other fellow pastors who are about their fathers business. we work on big picture things, pray for each other and most times commiserate about our lots in life. we have exchanged ideas, recipes, books and one has even handed me a business card and told me that he collects harmonicas. am sure you do. he then goes on to tell me in great lengths he is having a problem with his current board over a photocopier purchase. i smiled and thought of course you are. a peculiar pack for sure. it is for these golden moments that i return. i seek this man out in large groups.

however i am not getting any younger and the thought of meeting new people, the awkward exchanges, circle prayers and sleeping in strange cities has become daunting as i am trying desperately to love the ones i am with. not hiring right now. please leave your resume and we may call. kinda full. no vacancies.
this may sound crass and fixed but you must understand i have been a gypsy since i was a small boy. suitcase in hand wondering where mom may settle next boarding greyhounds under the guise of night waking up in new area codes. i entered classrooms on many occasions partly through school years with the whos the new kid sticker on my tshirt heading for the seat next to the smelly kid or the loner who has begun his isolating tendencies early usually spending his class time drawing swastikas on his binders and duo-tangs.

this possibly was training ground for me.

is this seat taken? sure i will eat lunch with you? is that a nutella sandwich? so your dad is an accountant. who is that cute girl in the gas attendant outfit? i could watch her put on lip gloss all day. can i borrow a pencil. is there a reason two third of the boys are wearing work-boots? will we be labouring later? did i mention i needed a pencil.

these are the highlights of our last network meeting in no apparent order. i may have wished some of you were there but that would have meant less homemade relish for me, less community board game, less league play, less sleeping in the guest and less conversations with these appointed ones. this is their time and i am beginning to feel settled.

my mom just called and said something about saskatoon.
crap

i asked butler today how long can pizza stay in the fridge. his answer was somewhat health unit. neverthemore i will keep a close watch on it. as some of my readers may know the matriarch and the viking child are in europe right now and that leaves me and the middle open for dinner invitations. let me check my availability.
checking.
checking.
nope it’s wide open. this post is very personal and very little thought provokes save for mine.

yesterday a large wolf spider was found in the men’s urinal at church. i was first bothered by wolf and spider in the same sentence.i was busy at that point and could really only deal with one at a time. i remember dropping a canoe on my friends shin when he alarmed me about the black rat snake he noticed in the grass ahead of us. that was a triple threat. black. rat. and snake. the evil axis built a monster when that reptile was borned. the arachnid in question made it into my must stay away from category and i thot what a bizarre place to be living.

location location location i suppose.
i suppose there may be the lone wandering fly and stray cigarette butt from time to time. but seriously.
lets just say it was hard to focus after that sighting.

mr perfect and i crossed over the line of a funeral this past saturday. we were trying our best to be respectful but the proceedings were directly in line with our yard saling. you see the basement of the church was running a sale and the upper part was directing a death. bazaar indeed and we were just trying to get back to our vehicle with our finds. these included some marginal collectibles, some candles for the lyons and some kicking eight tracks i scored. dwayne had a set of glasses in his hands and wasn’t sure why he purchased them. we left the mourners curbside as we pulled away and paid our respects.
dwayne and i both agreed that when we go we would want the very same set up. while they give the last rites folks can root around in all of our years of collected junk. dwayne said that they could dig the whole big enough for him and whatever didn’t sell during the event you could just shove it all in to the same plot instead of taking it to the dump and putting out his family at this time of grieving.

we both agreed then you can take it with you.

i ran the idea by share and the kids and they did not see the humour in it. unlike us we figured while people are remembering our lives a few people can stand up and tell everyone what a great deal they got on a set of lamps, point them to a great set of stereo speakers or remind them that in a half an hour it will be fill a bag for a toonie downstairs.

the church ladies would be serving garnished pickles and triangle sandwiches and the men folk would be collecting cash and directing traffic.

i know we are on to something.

i was camp director today. i was in one of my elements. kids from all four corners of the planet came to our artventure to make things. some beautiful even. we cut we pasted we threw pots and made new friends. we ate a balanced meal and snacked on grown goodness. i hung out with good people. even keel folks with a good grasp on gospel. this fills me up. i have little to explain around these types. getting it is important. in my line of crime it is paramount. these folks live what they have come to know. Jesus incarnate. jesus with skin on. Christ con carne if you will. when it all winds down and the author takes the stage and bows he will ask possibly a series of questions. these are my best guesses. one being- did you know me and the other being equally as important- did you love my sheep and then i think he will look around and say ‘who is in charge of cleaning up this mess… and i hope he asks if we made anything to which i will show him a scrapbook of people, events and mistakes. he will grin and say not bad…not bad at all. i like it that you coloured way outside the lines.
still grinning.

Wasted away again in Margaritaville,
Searchin’ for my lost shaker of salt.
Some people claim that there’s a woman to blame,
But I know it’s nobody’s fault.

spent the last fews days on the west coast with my brother Bob. i was the only one who called him such as the new digs of Vancouver remade him into a Jon. “jonnie” as his peers called him. he grew up as a “bobby john” as my mom reared him. birth name: robert john. this was far better than the “davey doo” handle my youngest brother wore.
you don’t want to get any of that on your runners.

for four hot west coast days i was wisped around from fine dining to ocean front patios to pacific coast resorts. we ate king crab, swam, golfed, cruised the strips in vintage cars and fished for salmon. i met his friends and spoke at length with his lovers. he spent a great deal of cash on the whole event and at times I cringed at the excess. this trip was butter and fine wines. there was little marg or Baby Duck to be found. he would have it no other way. i mentioned he didn’t fall far from our father’s tree. he grinned and took my word.

his home was modest but was surrounded by stately villas and mansions. they had gates on them for crying out loud. i wished to climb them. his was surrounded by lush gardens. apparently the weather is good to plants out there. his backyard was something out of playboy with hot tubs and cedar patio furniture and a bar with a jimmy buffet blender and a vintage pepsi machine that dispenses Heineken for a dollar. the pool was clean and cool without as much as a leaf in it. he is very house proud. the interior was kept by a maid as he is rarely home. she is new and may be named Mary. this is entirely possible. i was told that the last one was found of sneaking kahula and dipping into the Baileys from time to time so she was let go. his furnishings were modern and most of his walls were adorned by girlie calenders and print art. he is in the automotive business so they must send them to him. i am not sure what to make of girls with power tools or ones scantly clad changing a transmission. you just don’t see that everyday. maybe that is how it is out west? i also noticed he had good water pressure in his taps and the shower was magical. a good shower changes most perspectives. he agreed wholeheartedly and said that is what “closed the deal” for him when he first looked at the place. i thought about taking the housecoat and a few shampoos home but my bags were already packed and each time i stepped from the falling water i was reborn and felt honourable. my sins were washed away. i am sure if the old house keeper had snuck some shower-time she may have thought better about pooching the liquor.

baptism.

it was pretty rock star for sure and i am sorry it took a bet and many years to finally get out there. if you are reading this bro i love you. take care of your heart and remember moderation is your ally. hug the ninja for me and give the movie stars hellos. it will be hard to hug them as they seem pretty close and cutting in may prove tough. good on them. i hope it works out.
i just finished a plate of the painters lodge salmon and just went to put some Bob Marley on the ipod in your honour.

thanks.
and don’t forget that daryl hannah hookup.
make it happen.