Friday, November 11, 2011 (11.11.11)
Farfara
Remember, remember the sixth of November. It's the day-old residue of gunpowder, treason, and plot, but also my traditionally undercelebrated anniversary. D called, somewhat late in the day, since he's in Hawaii and I'm in Nova Scotia, and these places might as well be on the opposite sides of the world.
"So," he says, by way of an opener, "Happy Day After Guy Fawkes Day."
"Yup," I reply with caution, thinking (foolhardily) that I can wait him out.
"Yup," I reply with caution, thinking (foolhardily) that I can wait him out.
"Can't imagine there's much else worth celebrating today."
I frown at the phone, but he can't see that, and I refuse to reward him with any audible sign of frustration.
I frown at the phone, but he can't see that, and I refuse to reward him with any audible sign of frustration.
Sometime later, he breaks the silence with a carefully wrought ponder: "Why is it," he asks me weightily, "that Lego people always look so evil?"
Since this does move me from my taciturn stoniness, he expands on the point: "Have you heard about the giant Lego people who have been washing ashore? Google it. As someone who lives in a coastal community, it's important that you be prepared."
Still nothing from me. He moves on: "So today I ate the new Mango Guanabana [Doo DOO doo-doo-doo**] yoghurt... it was kinda hard work. Greek yoghurt is so thick."
**This is when D paused, mid-sentence, to sing the Snowths' back-up part from the Muppet Show under his breath, as I can only presume that he does every time he names the guanabana fruit.
