The fine young man pictured above made the following conversation possible.
Location: Interior, Day. Starbucks.
Me: This is the driest scone ever conceived of by man.
Mike: I am displeased with my loaf.
Me: Your banana loaf?
Mike: It's too loafy.
Me: Not bready enough?
Me: I have never been a loaf fan.
Mike: What do you have against loaves?
Me: I prefer a good scone. Which this is decidedly not.
Mike: Let me try some. (takes some. I start scraping the frosting off). What the hell are you doing?
Me:Removing the crust of frosting
Mike: frosting can be good
Me: You can have the ass-frosting them. I think they just frosted it to cover us the sawdust.
Mike: I think that an official strategy of the commercial food industry. When something goes wrong, apply frosting; no one will ever know.
Me: Something went horribly wrong here.
Mike: Where's the pumpkin? I thought this was supposed to be a pumpkin scone.
Me: I think is brushed against a pumpkin once.
Mike: More like they make it in the same factory as pumpkin loaves and some of the fumes permeated them.
Me: Do they have pumpkin loaves here?
Mike: Pumpkin bread.
Me: they need to recalibrate their loaf-to-bread ratio.
Batten down the hatches, folks. There are 2 Walschotses permanently in town.
For the last two weeks, my brother has been living on my futon. He was originally going to visit us for a bit this summer, maybe a week; then maybe a month; not he has applied to, and been accepted into, the Philosophy program at the U of C and is out a job interview for position in Kensington The fine young lad has taken very well to the city, and it seems that at least for the next few years this the place he, too, will call home.
With a little luck, he may even get his own ROOM or APARTMENT one day, rather than living out of a pile of suitcases and plastic rubber maid containers in my living room.
Honestly, though, aside form my mother, Michael is probably the best house guest on the face of the earth. He's quiet and tidy and very polite, despite my active efforts to make him snap. It's been a regular slumber party over here.
Welcome to Calgary, Mike. Smell that? It's clean air. You'll get used to it. =)