Cowboy Flunkies

The Sack's summer continues to grind itself toward an inevitable conclusion.

***

Jeff Christ has been having trouble finding a full-time job.

The young man is staying with his Sack relatives, Ben and Norma on a temporary basis. Jeff Christ will be staying there until He's either accepted into the Canadian Forces or the Second Coming begins, whichever happens first. At least, that's how Weed explains it.

In the meantime, He needs to save some money.

***

Weed says he's been trying to get Jeff Christ a job at the same call centre where he toils. He doesn't think Jeff will like it very much, but apparently the money is better than average. Unfortunately, there haven't been any openings lately.

Oscar says Weed's recommendation may be part of the problem. He could be right about this.

***

Nevertheless, Jeff Christ is a determined young man.

According to Ben, Jeff has found two part-time jobs to tide Him over until a full-time opportunity comes up. Apparently, the first job is with one of the old town's two Old Navy stores, where He'll be a sales associate. The other position is at the local Canadian Tire store.

Ben says Jeff doesn't know what He'll be doing at Canadian Tire yet. Oscar says this will give Him at least one thing in common with his new co-workers.

***

Never trust a pair of ten-year-old cowboys. They have no idea what they're talking about.

Two young Sack varmints were floating a story that Dora had been arrested at Burning Manor. It turns out that nothing could be further from the truth.

It was actually Dirk who was escorted from Burning Manor by the old town's peelers. Apparently, no handcuffs were used, so it's assumed that charges weren't laid. It looks like he was taken from the home as a way of cooling down a hot situation.

Ben witnessed the whole event. He just returned from a week of camping in Cape Breton along with his wife, Norma and their nephew, Jeff Christ. He didn't have the opportunity to tell anyone about the matter before he left.

***

According to Ben, the peelers took Dirk away while Dora stood on the porch spewing expletives at him. It happened early on a Sunday afternoon.

In the midst of this scene, the big, barking and bored dog escaped from Burning Manor. Dirk wanted to retrieve the dog, but the peelers wouldn't let him. Dora had to get the dog instead. For Dirk's sake, the peelers waited until she steered the animal back into the house.

As they finally drove away with Dirk in the backseat, Dora thrust her middle finger in the car's general direction.

***

The exact nature of the dispute between Dirk and Dora is unknown. It would be very unfortunate if violence was rearing its ugly head at Burning Manor.

Nevertheless, Dirk reappeared at Burning Manor within two days. This was confirmed by Elizabeth, who lives next door. She says it looked like things had returned to normal for Dirk and Dora.

"Or at least, what passes for normal," she added quickly.

***

Dirk has now returned to the oil rig for his next work period.

Ben said he saw Dirk when he left a few days ago. Dora walked him to the car with her arms folded across her chest. Apparently, she was wearing a light blue housecoat and pink flip-flops. A cigarette undoubtedly dangled from her lips.

It was about three o'clock in the afternoon.

Ben said Dirk and Dora didn't exchange a departing kiss. This is good evidence, he says, that only an uneasy truce has occurred between the pair. He thinks we can expect more shenanigans when the pair is reunited in three weeks.

I hope he's wrong about this.

In the meantime, Oscar says we have learned an important lesson from the whole affair. Along with Weed and Gordon, he says we can now add two child cowboys to the Sack's list of unreliable sources of information.

I think he's right about this.

***

Stranger Than Fiction

Despite the shenanigans often described in these pages, life in the Sack can be dull.

Of course, some people would say that dullness is part of the general nature of suburban life. Oscar says the basic design of suburbs is actually meant to inspire boredom. Ultimately, he argues, this is what makes people go out and buy stuff. In his view, it's what keeps the economy pumping.

He could be right about this. But he could be wrong, too.

But if he is right, last week probably wasn't a good one for the old town's retail stores, at least those frequented by Sack people. This is because there were very few dull moments in the Sack last week.

***

Computer Doug leaves his recyclable goods on the porch for Eddie, the Sack's street scavenger of choice.

Eddie comes around every Friday. He collects the refundable bottles from the blue bags residents leave at the curbside. On a good week, Eddie says he can make more than one hundred dollars. He uses the money as a supplement to his social assistance cheque.

"My beer and smokes," Eddie says philosophically, "are basically taken care of."

When Eddie shows up in the Sack, his shopping cart is filled with large bags of refundable bottles and cans. Oscar says the cart looks like the Grinch's sled from Dr. Seuss' How the Grinch Stole Christmas!

"And I'm talking about the sled after the Grinch has stolen everything from those impish, pot-smoking Who people, not before," Oscar said.

I told Oscar that's exactly what I assumed he meant all along.

***

There is great competition for refundable bottles in the old town.

Bottle and can collectors have quickly become the knife sharpeners and ragmen of the new millennium. In the beginning, almost all of them pushed a shopping cart around. But increasingly, more collectors are driving pickups and vans.

Of course, vehicle-driving collectors are frowned upon by many Sack residents. The general view is that one shouldn't be collecting bottles, if one can afford to run a vehicle. Oscar says this notion is a basic tenet of "suburban ethics 101."

He could be right about this. But he could be wrong, too.

***

To thwart the undeserving, some Sack residents leave their recyclable goods on the porch, rather than the curb. Then Eddie's given verbal permission to take the goods from the resident's property. No one, Oscar said emphatically, is allowed to touch your garbage, as long as it's on your property.

I said this has always been one of my favourite aspects of a free, democratic society.

But several weeks ago, a pickup truck entered the Sack and someone new laid claim to the Sack's accumulation of refundable bottles and cans. And whoever this person was, he didn't hesitate to clean out the bags left on various Sack porches.

Norma watched this drama unfold at Computer Doug's place and told him about it later.

Computer Doug was irate about the matter for about thirty minutes. Then he forgot all about it. He says he's got too many other things to worry about. Garbage, he explained, is really far down on his list.

***

But Oscar didn't forget about the matter.

Eddie and Oscar frequently converse on garbage collection day. Despite the heavy competition, Eddie is rarely in a great hurry by the time he gets to the Sack. Oscar says Eddie will "never say no" to the offer of a beer and a chat, even though it's only eleven o'clock in the morning. If you're offering tailor-made cigarettes, he says Eddie will be even more enthusiastic about shooting the breeze with you.

According to Oscar, Eddie doesn't believe in the proverbial early-bird-gets-the-worm theory that dominates the collection business. Instead, he says Eddie's business approach is "all about relationships."

As a result, he thinks Eddie's work brings more value to the community. So we must do our best, he argues, to protect Eddie's access to the Sack's bottles and cans.

***

So Oscar decided to initiate a surveillance operation that would get to the bottom of the matter.

When Friday morning arrived, he parked himself on a chair at his front window. He was determined to locate and confront any vehicle-driving collectors that appeared in the Sack.

Oscar said it was the least he could do to help Eddie out. He also said he had nothing else planned for that particular Friday morning.

***

Oscar, of course, works from his home.

It's impossible, however, to discern the difference between the times when Oscar's engaged in paid employment and when he's simply being at home. He says only a very sharp eye would be able to tell the difference. This is proof, he says proudly, of how well he performs in his job.

"I'm the kind of person who makes work look effortless," he said. I looked very closely for the small hint of a grin on Oscar's face. As usual, I was left wanting.

***

Oscar said a pickup truck drove into the Sack at about eight-thirty in the morning. He was sitting at his front window. He said his full attention was on the Sudoku puzzle in the Daily Snooze.

Fortunately, something made him look up at just the right moment. That's when he saw the pickup truck in front of Computer Doug's place. A tall figure in a red tracksuit and matching baseball cap walked briskly onto the porch and picked up the bag of bottles left specifically for Eddie.

The man's tracksuit and cap bore the famous logo of the Montreal Canadiens.

The pickup truck, according to Oscar, had an indeterminate colour. He said it had clearly received a lot of body work at different times. Each time, a slightly different shade of paint was used to cover the repair.

If pressed to name the truck's colour, Oscar said he would say, "camouflage-grey."

I told him I appreciated his effort to add detail to his story.

***

A second person was driving the camouflage-grey pickup truck. He drove the truck slowly around the Sack's centre circle, while the fellow in the tracksuit collected their booty. When they moved ever closer to his house, Oscar said he was going to go outside and confront the tracksuited fellow. But suddenly he experienced a jolt of recognition.

He sat down again and watched intently as the man pilfered bottles from Florence's blue recycling bag. Now he had a very clear view of the man who dared to usurp Eddie.

It was Maxwell, Britney Bitterman's beau and father of Baby Maybe.

***

Oscar said he was flummoxed by the sight of Maxwell. "And you know me," he added, "I don't get flummoxed very easily."

This is actually true. I can't recall a time when I've seen Oscar flummoxed.

***

Oscar said his surprise was magnified further when he saw Maxwell rifling through the curbside blue bag belonging to the Bitterman family. He said he was stunned by the sight of Maxwell taking refundable bottles from the grandparents of his own newborn son.

"I was beyond flummoxed, at that point," he explained. "I was flabbergasted."

***

But Maxwell's brazen reappearance in the Sack wasn't even the strangest bit of news from this past week. It should've been, but it wasn't.

It should be no surprise that the news was about Dora.

And even though it came from an unlikely and questionable source, the news was no less intriguing. Apparently the peelers arrived in the Sack last Monday morning and arrested Dora. It's said that she was actually lead to the peeler car in handcuffs.

***

Oscar told me this nugget of Sack news.

His source for the story? The news came directly from his thirteen-year-old boy, Dorian. And Dorian apparently gleaned it from one of Rental Doug's snarky kids.

Rental Doug's lad is about ten years old. In addition to being snarky, the boy is greatly enamoured by cowboys. He has spent almost every day of the summer clad in a complete cowboy outfit. This includes a cowboy hat and boots, a brown vest over a white shirt, a red bandana, silver belt buckle, holster and even, God forbid, a pair of black riding chaps.

Earlier in the summer, the boy also wore a fake moustache. Unfortunately, it fell off with some regularity. Apparently, the boy deemed the moustache unreliable and cast it aside. At least that's what Dorian tells us.

***

Rental Doug's snarky cowboy kid has become good friends with another Sack kid of similar age. This young fellow has also adopted the vaguely disquieting practice of dressing like a cowboy.

The two boys mosey about the Sack with great frequency. It's almost impossible to stifle one's laughter when they amble by.

Weed says Rental Doug's snarky kid actually tipped his cowboy hat in greeting the other day. I think I would've paid to see that.

***

So the two junior Sack cowboys claim that Dora was handcuffed and taken away from Burning Manor. Admittedly, they shouldn't be regarded as what news people probably call a "reliable source."

But Dorian swears the two boys weren't joking about what they saw.

"Just because they're cowboys," Dorian apparently said to his father, "it doesn't mean they're full of crap."

He could be right about this. But he could be wrong, too.

***

As a review, we offer this brief summary of recent Sack news:

• Maxwell was discovered pilfering refundable bottles and cans from Sack blue bags, including the one owned by his "in-laws."
  
  
• This news was reported by a resident who was staging a surveillance operation from his front window.
  
  
• It's alleged that Dora was arrested at Burning Manor. Apparently she was lead to the peeler car in handcuffs.
  
  
• This news was reported by a pair of ten-year-old cowboys. One of the cowboys is the son of a man who may be directly related to Satan.
  
  

As the New York Times likes to say, that's all the news fit to print.

***

To the Manor Borne

"It's important to give credit, when credit is due."

That's what Oscar had to say on the subject of Burning Manor the other day. He thinks Dirk has really pulled up his socks since moving back to the Sack.

We were sitting on the Wonders' porch just after the supper hour. Both of us were enjoying a cup of tea. Oscar's tea contained milk and two teaspoons of sugar. Mine held only a small splash of milk.

I said good-bye to sugar years ago.

***

Despite Dora's raging war with Elizabeth and the rest of the Sack, Dirk really has managed to keep a low profile.

Some people give the credit to his new job. Apparently, Dirk is working on a rig in the old town's offshore oil and gas industry. He spends three weeks at sea on the oil rig, followed by three weeks back at Burning Manor.

But even when Dirk has been at home in the Sack, he has been a model citizen.

A few weeks ago, he ran a lawn mower across his front yard. Later that same day, Weed saw him actually place a sprinkler in the middle of the lawn.

Unfortunately, these efforts haven't helped the state of Burning Manor's lawn. Even though it's relatively new sod, it already has some brown patches. But at least Dirk is trying to look after the place, this time. The first Burning Manor had a barren and desolate front yard. Oscar says it was as dry and brown as the Gobi Desert.

Oscar always uses the Gobi Desert as a simile for great dryness. He never uses the Sahara Desert or the Kalahari Desert.

Oscar is a staunch Gobi man. As far as he's concerned, it's either Gobi or go home.

***

Three weeks ago, Dirk placed a piece of driftwood on the front lawn of Burning Manor.

This adornment, I'm told, is meant to add interest and style to a home's appearance. But as far as Burning Manor is concerned, it doesn't seem to be working.

In fact, closer inspection of the object reveals that it's not a piece of driftwood at all. It's an actual dead tree stump with several thick roots protruding from it.

It's a partial tree corpse.

***

The tree stump decoration is still an attempt to personalize and beautify Burning Manor. Even though it's not working, it doesn't mean that Dirk isn't making an effort.

Of course, this isn't the first time Dirk has decorated his lawn with such an odd item. He placed a thick, tumour-laden tree stump on the front lawn of the first Burning Manor.

Sack horticulturists were appalled.

***

Dirk and Dora have also had far fewer visitors at the new Burning Manor. Other than move-in day and one other occasion, there hasn't been a single drinkfest at all.

Sack residents, of course, prefer this new state of affairs. Nevertheless, Oscar says he laments the decline of the Burning Manor soiree. Friends of Burning Manor, in his opinion, were one of the most entertaining aspects of Sack life.

He could be right about this.

***

Recently, Dirk made yet another attempt to give Burning Manor a friendlier face.

Last week, four solar garden lights appeared on the lawn immediately adjacent to Burning Manor's driveway. Some effort had actually been made to space the lights evenly apart. At night time, Oscar said it made the driveway look like a short landing strip.

Unfortunately, the lights did little to change the unlived-in look of the house. The lights look more like an afterthought than a decoration.

But, Oscar argues, it's still an effort from Dirk to make his house look more acceptable. According to Oscar, this has to be worthy of praise.

He received no argument from me on the matter.

***

Unfortunately, the solar garden lights suffered a terrible blow last Sunday.

Apparently Dora was coming home from a post-Bingo Night visit to a local tavern. At least, that's what some Sack people are alleging. I really have no idea about such things.

As Dora manoeuvred her car into the driveway, she struck the two solar lights closest to the house. One of the lights was demolished, while the other was simply knocked askew.

***

More than a week has passed and the debris from the solar lights remains on Burning Manor's lawn. The top light is sitting on a slant, pointing drunkenly toward Elizabeth's house.

Apparently, Dirk is working on the oil rig at the moment.

***

Last Tuesday, Dora had another clash with some Sack residents.

Three residents were talking in the Sack's centre circle during the early evening. Prominent among the group was Big Doug. Each resident was accompanied by his dog. Two of the dogs were happily cavorting with each other, but remained close to their owners. The third, a small mellow mutt, sat patiently with its owner. None of the dogs had a leash attached to them.

Suddenly, Dora strode down the front steps of Burning Manor. Her arms were crossed tightly against her chest. She was wearing a light-blue track suit and yellow flip-flops.

Dora walked into the middle of the street and stared intently at the three residents and their dogs. She looked like an old western sheriff looking to run someone out of town.

Dora has had a bee in her bonnet about other Sack dogs, ever since she was fined for letting her big, barking and bored dog ramble around the Sack at three o'clock in the morning.

***

The two active dogs suddenly noticed Dora and stiffened. That's when Big Doug noticed her for the first time. A lengthy bout of staring ensued. Then Big Doug yelled out:

"Take a picture, dear. It'll last longer."

Dora seemed to mutter something to her self. Then she replied:

"Okay, Mr. Shit-For-Brains. I'll do that."

Then she pulled a silver camera from her track suit pocket and photographed the gathering of unleashed dogs. Finally, she swivelled quickly and marched back into Burning Manor. She closed the door with just a little too much force.

***

Mr. Shit-For-Brains. The quality of discourse in the Sack deteriorates with every passing day.

Dirk is expected to be home again in about fourteen days.

***

Sack Religious

Several months ago, the Sack suffered through four consecutive days of rain.

Such a lengthy spate of rain can be a good thing every now and then. People tend to stick close to home for a while, rather than running about consuming stuff. And rather than puttering around their yards, they can spend time with each other.

Of course, a period of inclement weather can have its drawbacks, too. Some people have difficulty when they have to stay in one place for a while. Eventually, they start coming up with silly stuff to keep the boredom at bay.

That's what happens in the Sack sometimes.

***

According to Oscar, the forces of darkness are represented in the Sack by the form of Rental Doug and his blended family. In short, he believes that Rental Doug is either related to, or employed by, the Devil.

Of course, this could be true. At least, that's what we say to Oscar when he starts talking about this. It gets him to move onto another topic a little bit faster.

***

But, if the Devil does have a man in the Sack, we may not have to worry about it anymore.

This is because Jesus, at least temporarily, is now living in the Sack.

Apparently, He moved into Ben and Norma's house about six weeks ago. He's staying with them for the next six months or until He hears about His acceptance into the Canadian Forces. In the meantime, He's hoping to find a job and save some money. He'd like to have some money behind Him before He becomes a sailor.

Jesus was living in Newfoundland before he arrived in the Sack. According to Ben and Norma, this is where He was born and raised. Now He's twenty-one and ready to make His way in the world.

***

Jesus has been planning to stay at Ben and Norma's house ever since Ben found out he was being deployed to the Golan Heights this summer. Ben, of course, is a senior cook in the Canadian Forces. Jesus was going to help Norma "look after things" while Ben was away. At the same time, it would help Jesus save some money.

Fortunately, Ben's deployment has been cancelled. Apparently, Canada has stood down from the UN peacekeeping force there. Some other country now gets to stand in the middle of that particular school yard.

Ben and Norma didn't want to disappoint Jesus when the deployment was cancelled. They told Him to come anyway.

Norma says He is a very nice young man. She admitted, of course, that she doesn't know Him very well, yet. It's Ben, she explained, who knows the kid best. Apparently, Jesus is Ben's nephew.

Ben's family is from Cornerbrook, Newfoundland & Labrador.

***

Of course, this is all rubbish.

It was Weed who declared that Ben's nephew was the Son of God. Ben and Norma only know the young man as Jeff, the eldest son of Ben's youngest sister.

Weed made this pronouncement on our show during the rainy weekend. He was our one and only guest. He offered the following justification for his belief:

1. The young man has longish brown hair and a goatee. He's slim and moves in a very casual manner. He has a relaxed handshake that Weed found "reassuringly gentle."
   
   
2. Weed saw Jeff for the first time while the young man was working on Ben and Norma's lawn. Two days later, the lawn was "like brand new."
   
   
3. The young man's given name is Jeff, which, if you really think about it, is startlingly close to Jesus.
   
   
4. No one expected God to put up with the presence of Rental Doug forever, did they?

***

Again, this is all rubbish.

Jeff was tending to Ben and Norma's lawn a few days earlier. He was pulling weeds and tilling the top soil. The next day, he helped Ben lay replacement sod over the entire front lawn.

It's also very doubtful that Jesus would be interested in the Canadian Forces. Computer Doug says Jesus would probably have a hard time with the Salvation Army, so the Canadian military would be a longshot.

But Ben tells me the military's pension plan is very attractive. I suppose anything could be possible.

***

Of course, Weed's real reason for declaring that Jeff is actually Jesus has everything to do with Oscar. It gives him something to bring up whenever Oscar mentions Rental Doug and the forces of darkness.

Oscar and Weed frequently engage in recurring debates about an odd range of topics. Recently, they butted heads over how long one should hide a stolen trampoline before setting it up in one's yard. They've argued about Big Doug's use of the word "arse." And they once debated the relative sexiness of well known, animated women on television. Weed, apparently, favours Marge Simpson.

So Weed needs a better response for Oscar's claim that Rental Doug is in cahoots with the Devil.

***

Both seem to have given the other partial acceptance to their respective theories about Jeff and Rental Doug. Oscar has gone so far as to refer to Ben's nephew as Jeff Christ. Weed sometimes makes the sign of the cross with his fingers when he sees Rental Doug.

I have no trouble with any of this, of course. Along as they make an effort to get along with everybody, I have no trouble with Jeff Christ or Rental Doug. It doesn't matter much whether they're affiliated with any particular religious organization. I'd prefer that everybody just make an effort to get along.

Of course, if both actually were who Weed and Oscar thought they were, it would be very interesting. If Rental Doug does work for the Devil, it would be a good thing to know where he was at all times. You wouldn't want him operating where he can't be seen.

If Jeff is actually Jesus, it would be very fortunate, indeed. It would be like having backstage passes for the Second Coming.

For the moment, I think I'll hedge my bets for a while.

***

Little Doug's Dilemmas

Florence is the Wonders' next door neighbour.

Last week she acquired a new pair of eyeglasses. The new ones are very modern and fashionable. Her old glasses were quite conservative and nondescript. Oscar says the new ones are "eye-catching eyeglasses."

Over the last three days, four different Sack residents have asked my opinion about Florence's new glasses. Apparently, a consensus on the matter has been elusive. Some people have given rave reviews, while others have panned the new glasses entirely.

For the record then, here is my opinion on the subject: Florence's new eyeglasses look fabulous.

***

It's tough to be Little Doug these days.

At least, that's what Little Doug, himself told me the other night. We encountered each other at The Bay, a department store that's located not far from the Sack. It seemed that both of us were shopping in the men's underwear section of the store at the very same time.

I see Little Doug with some frequency.

So it shouldn't take too long to exchange greetings and then move along. We don't need to catch up on any significant news about each other.

But on this particular day and place, Little Doug seemed keen to unload his more recent trials and tribulations. It didn't seem to occur to him that we were outside our normal element.

He pinned me down for about twenty minutes. He didn't want to let me go without hearing his troubles.

***

Little Doug became a grandfather recently for the first time. He says this is the best part of his life right now. Baby Doug, who Little Doug refers to as "the little fella," is the apple of his eye.

But the arrival of Baby Doug has also brought change to the household Little Doug graciously shares with his daughter, Daisy and her illustrious fiance, Weed.

First, there was the matter of the no-name Cheez Whiz. Weed had taken over the household shopping and quickly demonstrated his complete ignorance of Little Doug's culinary standards. Thankfully, this matter has been resolved. Only authentic Cheez Whiz has passed over the kitchen's threshold ever since.

Unfortunately, Weed has apparently committed another shopping faux pas.

***

This time he went wrong in the toiletry department. The bathrooms in the Little Doug household are now stocked with "tutti-frutti" shampoo.

Little Doug says he's very faithful when it comes to shampoo. Apparently, he has used the same brand for at least ten years. He said he couldn't really explain while he maintained such loyalty to the same product.

Then he added, "It's just the way I am, I guess."

***

But now Weed has brought home a horrible, fruity concoction. Little Doug says it makes his hair smell like fruit salad.

"Wow," I said, "Is it that bad?"

Little Doug clutched a shock of his hair and offered it to me.

"Here," he said, "Take a whiff."

"Pass," I replied quickly. Instinctively, I looked around to see if anyone was listening to us among the men's underwear.

"Well, then," Little Doug answered, "you'll just to have to take my word for it."

***

Breast feeding is also a matter of concern for Little Doug.

He has no problem with the practice itself, of course. But he says Daisy is very enthusiastic about it and makes no effort to hide the practice at home. Little Doug says she's a little bit too spontaneous about the whole matter for his liking. He said he finds it difficult to get comfortable when "boobs are flying around everywhere."

A few weeks ago, two of Daisy's friends paid a visit. Both women were also new mothers. According to Little Doug, it didn't take long before all three women began to breast feed.

"There were boobs everywhere," he said, "And I mean literally everywhere."

Little Doug seemed unaware that his voice had risen as he related this tale. Thankfully, there still wasn't anyone else around us in the men's underwear section.

Of course, this isn't unusual at The Bay. Sales help in this particular store is merely a rumour.

***

Little Doug also confessed that he has been "playing around" with an internet dating website. He said Daisy and Weed helped him to get set up with one specifically for folks in the old town and surrounding area.

Although he isn't very savvy when it comes to computers, Little Doug says he has been getting better since he started. He said he had communicated with some very nice people. One person, in particular, has even asked if he'd like to meet for coffee.

Little Doug said he would certainly like to meet with the woman at some point. But he doesn't want to meet her until he has his new upper dental plate.

"That makes sense," I replied.

***

Little Doug says he expects to get his new upper plate next week.

"I don't want to meet anyone until I have my top teeth and my hair smells normal again," he said with more than a hint of exasperation.

"That makes sense," I said again.

***

Little Doug has been divorced for about eight years. This happened before he moved to the Sack.

His ex-wife left after meeting someone from another province. Apparently, they met on an internet chat room. Understandably, Little Doug doesn't talk about this very much. Since the marriage ended, he has shown very little interest in meeting anyone new.

So it's a pleasant surprise to see him take a step in this direction. He's a decent, hard-working man. I hope something exciting happens for him.

***

We chatted for a little bit more and then I told Little Doug that I needed to get going.

This wasn't entirely true, of course. But I hadn't even picked out my underwear, yet. I didn't expect this to take very long, of course. But I'd already spent more time in The Bay than I usually care to.

Little Doug said he had to get moving, too. We both started to look around for underwear. Barely a minute passed before Little Doug asked, "So, what do you think about Florence's glasses?"

***

For the record, Little Doug favours boxer briefs.

***

Pie in the Sky

The Sack enjoyed a weekend of glorious weather. The senses were awash in the sights, sounds and smells of an August long weekend.

It was a time for lemonade, iced cappuccino (from the local coffee cathedral) and cold beer. Throughout the late afternoon and early evening, there was a persistent aroma of barbecued beef. Sack vegetarians were undoubtedly appalled.

It was also an unlikely time for pie.

***

The first mention of pie came during an impromptu curbside gathering by an assortment of Sack people.

When asked about Norma's whereabouts, Ben said his wife was busy making a lemon meringue pie. Apparently they were expecting relatives later in the day. Ben says Norma is very good at making pies.

Oscar immediately said that lemon meringue was his favourite pie. If Norma needed anyone to "taste-test" her creation, he said he would be the first to volunteer. Ben said he would let Oscar know if his services were required.

***

Blueberry pie has always been Weed's favourite. He said his grandmother was well known for her prowess with this particular pie. When he was a young lad, Weed said he used to pick the blueberries with his grandmother. Then she would make the pie right in front of him.

I'm an apple pie man, myself.

***

Oscar said it's a great shame that people don't leave pies in their open kitchen windows anymore. Although he had never seen the practice himself, he said he'd seen it during cartoons, on old television shows and in the movies.

"A society where you can leave a freshly baked pie to cool in an open window is definitely my kind of society," Oscar announced.

"Right on," said Computer Doug.

Weed nodded his agreement. "Eventually, there were too many stolen pies. People couldn't trust each other with the pies."

I said I like a nice coating of brown sugar on my apple pie.

***

Of course, the disappearance of "the cooling pie in the open window" from the public domain is not such a simple matter. This was proven over the next half of an hour.

It was thirty minutes that will never be recovered.

Computer Doug said human distrust isn't the only reason for the extinction of this practice. Very few people, he argued, spend their time baking any more. He said people want their food quickly and without lengthy preparation. It's not because people don't want to put their pies in the window. He said they don't need to put their pies in the window.

Ben said Computer Doug made a good point. But he argued that people still need to cool off their store-bought pies. Besides distrust, Ben said the only other reason could be the invention of the window screen.

"Because of the fixed window screen, there isn't enough room for a pie to sit on a window sill. People want to cool their pies in the window, they just can't any more."

***

Oscar said Ben's argument was preposterous.

The pie in the window, he argued, died long before the window screen. "Birds and hoboes," he said flatly. "That was the real reason. And rascally kids"

I like ice cream with warm apple pie. But I prefer to eat cold apple pie by itself. Both, of course, demand an accompanying glass of milk.

You wouldn't be able to know any of this by just looking at me.

***

More debate ensued before the matter finally ran its course.

In the end, Weed and Oscar walked off talking but an invention that would allow people to place their pies safely in any window. It would be sold as an upgrade feature with high quality windows. Your pie would sit in your window free from interference by birds, hoboes and insolent kids for as long as it needed to cool.

I don't remember the details of their idea. My ears had long since closed down by this time. I also expected it would be my last contact with pie that weekend.

***

The next morning I was puttering about in the rear of the Wonders' modest backyard. About half of the area is filled with trees and wild growth. This line of greenery, along with a wooden fence, is what separates the Sack from the street beyond it.

Generally, we let nature take its course in this area. There are lots of living things there, so we avoid even walking through the growth of shrubs, ferns and trees. But every now and then, I'll take a quick walk through to pick up any litter that might accumulate. It can be very windy around the Sack, so it's common for this to happen.

The litter that finds its way into the yard can be very odd. Once I found a torn birthday card wedged in a shrub. It was part of the card's inside panel. There were a few lines of verse and then the words, "Love, Yolanda." Yolanda wrote her name with a great flourish. There were also three kisses and four hugs carefully marked under her name using Xs and Os.

***

When the old town's waste management professionals ply their trade in the Sack, there is always the chance of spillage. Garbage is sometimes blown about when they transfer it to the disposal trucks.

The lighter pieces of garbage get caught in the wind and spread themselves around. It's probably why I find pieces of paper, plastic bags and various wrappers in the wooded area of the backyard.

Of course, the Sack is not far from a local school. The litter could be initiated by careless kids en route to school. Then it gets blown around and lands in the Wonders' yard.

This might explain why I sometimes find elementary school homework in the back yard.

***

Last May, I found a battered single page from a rudimentary history essay. It was about the expulsion of the Acadians. Unfortunately, the student consistently used the word "explosion" instead of "expulsion." It was an unfortunate error on a very serious subject.

Mrs. Wonders said I should have corrected the essay and then thrown it back into the wind. Perhaps, she said, it might end up back in the author's hands.

I actually gave this some thought before discarding the idea.

***

During this most recent walkabout through the wooded area, I ran across more school-related litter. It would be my second encounter with pie in less than twenty-four hours.

To be specific, this time it was actually an encounter with the mathematical concept of Pi. Sitting under a fern was a single page from a math textbook. It just happened to be a page dealing with Pi. There was even a diagram to explain the concept further.

It looked like the page had been torn from the textbook. It looked like it might have been done in anger, too.

I spent a few minutes reading about pi. I even tried to imagine having to write a test about it. Then I bunched up the page and put it in my garbage bag.

***

Later that night, Mrs. Wonders and I went out for dinner.

Neither of us tends to order dessert when we go out. But it was getting close to the end of my vacation, so I said yes to the offer of a dessert menu. This is always a good rationale for doing things one normally wouldn't do.

In the end, I ordered the apple pie with a dollop of ice cream. The pie was just the right temperature, too. It wasn't scalding hot, nor was it too cool. And I'm very sure it didn't sit in any windows before it found its way to my plate.

But it was still very good pie, indeed.

***

Psycho Babble

I took this week off from work.

Oscar and his family went to see friends in the U.S. Gordon was visiting family in Digby. According to Little Doug, Weed was on a two-day, work-related course in Toronto. Not even young Doo was around the Sack. Apparently he went camping with his mom and Sticky, his relatively new step dad.

The chance for some peace in the Sack was at an all-time high.

***

Mrs. Wonders had gone back to bed. I was idling away at the blogging machine with a rare second cup of coffee. These are the things one does when enjoying a "do-nothing-in-particular" vacation.

But the weekday morning calm was quickly broken by an awful clatter. It roused Mrs. Wonders, who quickly beckoned me away from the blogging machine. Gazing out from our bedroom window, we could see Dora and Elizabeth facing each other from their respective lawns. Each had her arms folded scornfully across her chest.

A verbal joust was in progress.

***

Elizabeth returned from Montreal on Thursday. She was in la belle province to see her sister. While she was away, I was responsible for picking up her weekend newspapers.

According to Elizabeth, I did an excellent job.

***

Sack observers expected that Elizabeth would, as Weed expressed it, "blow a gasket" when she returned.

While she was gone, Burning Manor acquired a new chainlink fence on its side and rear flanks. Dirk had approached her about building the fence along their joint property line. Elizabeth refused to give her permission.

***

Surprisingly, Elizabeth was very calm and rational about the matter when I returned her weekend newspapers. A week away from the Sack seemed to have given her a more gracious demeanour, as far as Burning Manor was concerned. She said she was just going to act like it no longer existed. The fence met with her complete approval, since it would be a big help in that regard.

For two days, Elizabeth's new approach to Burning Manor was a smash success.

***

On the third day, Elizabeth and Dora happened to walk out of their respective homes at precisely the same time.

Later, Elizabeth would describe it as a "frozen moment." Their eyes met and held. Time seemed to stand still.

According to Elizabeth, her new strategy eventually kicked in. She said she looked "right through" Dora as if she didn't exist. Then she turned to walk to her car. Elizabeth said she was certain the moment would pass without incident.

But it all came crashing down when Dora opened her mouth.

***

Wyse Brothers Fencing Ltd. erected Burning Manor's new fence. The only outstanding matter was the hardware for the fence's gate.

One of the Wyse Brothers was supposed to bring the hardware over the next day. He was told to leave it on the porch if no one was home at Burning Manor.

As soon as Dora cast her eyes upon Elizabeth's face, she accused her of stealing the hardware. Then she called Elizabeth something far worse than "a frickin' dick dog."

***

Elizabeth's newfound calmness evaporated in an instant. She roared back at Dora with a loud, angry, high-pitched voice. She roared so much she needed a gulp of air when she was finished.

That's when Dora called Elizabeth a "psycho."

***

Elizabeth immediately started laughing with great enthusiasm. It was a sound that was more than a little unnerving to hear.

Finally, she said to Dora, "You are so hilarious!" Dora seemed confused and uncertain about Elizabeth's sudden demeanour.

"What's so hilarious?" Dora asked.

Elizabeth took a few steps closer to her neighbour. Her voice was calm and controlled.

"You want to talk about psycho?" she asked. "I'll tell you about psycho." I work on a psycho unit, so I know what psycho looks like, okay?" And I'm telling you something, sister, if there's a psycho standing here right now, it certainly isn't me."

Then Elizabeth walked over to her car and promptly drove away.

***

Elizabeth really does work in the psychiatric unit of a hospital. This is the first time I've heard her refer to it as a "psycho" unit.

Of course, she'll also be the first to tell you that she's not qualified to assess someone's mental health status. Elizabeth works on the administrative side of things, not the treatment side.

Nevertheless, she still thinks Dora is a "psycho."

***

The verbal sparring by Elizabeth and Dora had broken the karma of our quiet home vacation. Mrs. Wonders' nap had gone sour. The blogging machine no longer held my interest.

We decided to drive along the coast to the very outskirts of the old town. There is a rocky piece of shoreline running in front of an old, but still functioning lighthouse. A five minute walk across some rugged terrain brings one to some small cliffs and a spectacular view of the Atlantic ocean.

It can be captivating to gaze across the water from this spot. Somewhere on the other side of that ocean are places where horrible things are happening. It's a handy reminder that our troubles pale in comparison to those experienced by others.

***

Of course, relaxing in the sun with a comfortable ocean breeze also has a way of making trouble feel far away. It wasn't long before the most recent Sack shenanigans faded from memory.

Eventually, Mrs. Wonders fell asleep. I read for some time and then scanned the water with my binoculars. Whale sightings are possible here, if one is fortunate.

I wasn't fortunate this time.

***

But there was a very good view of some gannets.

A gannet is a sea bird that makes a vertical beeline into the water from a great height. It actually goes into the water to catch a fish and then comes out again. It does all of this at a very high rate of speed.

When the gannet makes its vertical dive, it almost seems like it will hit the water with a bloody splatter. At first viewing, it can seem like a very crazy bird.

Of course, the gannet is not a crazy bird. It's specially equipped to hunt and feed in this fashion. So even if it looks crazy, it really isn't.

***

Some would argue that both Dora and Elizabeth are becoming "psycho."

Of course, it's also possible that both are specially equipped to behave like they did on Friday. So even if one or both look "psycho," maybe they really aren't.

I suppose anything's possible.

***

Outdoor Projects

In the midst of the Sack's centre circle is a small flower garden. It's maintained by a trio of residents, including the talented Mrs. Wonders.

In addition to the garden, the circle has a few trees, some large ornamental rocks and a small carpet of grass. Gordon tends to the grass with great devotion. No one asked him to do this, of course. He just takes it upon himself to keep the grass in order. Everyone would agree that he does a good job with it.

Sack kids are frequently chastised for causing harm to the circle's flora. The lower tree branches, in particular, have been frequent targets for their mayhem.

They're taken to task for littering in and around the circle, too. Candy wrappers and drink containers are the most common items to be found. You can even run across discarded clothing or abandoned sports equipment from time to time.

If you ever need a basketball very quickly, the Sack's centre circle can usually provide what you're looking for.

But rarely is there any malicious intent to cause damage. Most of the shenanigans in the circle are simply caused by the exuberance of youth. When kids become careless, the circle's greenery can take a beating.

And then, of course, there is young Doo. . . .

***

The Sack was like a suburban desert last Saturday. The air was dense and hot. The intensity of the sunlight was almost overpowering.

There was very little movement on the street. There was almost a low buzz in the air from the electric fans that ran throughout the neighbourhood. You could imagine that people were slumped in their basements, clad only in undergarments.

It was a really hot day.

***

The only movement in the Sack came from young Doo. He was cavorting by himself in the Sack's centre circle. He was flailing about on his hands and knees.

Doo was on the opposite side of the ornamental rocks, so I couldn't really see what he was doing. But he looked like he was enjoying himself very much.

I was sitting on my front porch. I was eating a cherry popsicle and thinking about how I don't eat enough cherry popsicles. Other thoughts came to mind, too. But the cherry popsicle thoughts were most notable.

***

A car drove into the Sack. Gordon was at the wheel. He was coming home from the grocery store.

Gordon always goes to the grocery store on Saturday afternoon.

He got out of his car and walked back to his trunk to pick up his groceries. That's when he caught sight of Doo's activity in the Sack's centre circle.

His quick shriek was followed by an angry bark. Then he started pointing at something in the circle. Doo was now standing up. Whatever sin he had committed was causing an unholy racket to burst from Gordon's mouth. Doo seemed frozen in place, transfixed by the older man's fury.

That's when I decided to investigate the matter.

***

It was a very big surprise when I saw the reason for Gordon's rant.

Young Doo had dug up a portion of the circle's garden and about three feet of Gordon's precious grass. Several deep holes were evident. Corresponding piles of dirt sat beside the holes.

Prominent amid the black soil was a battalion of yellow Tonka trucks. Doo was clearly in the midst of a major construction project. Given the scale of the holes and the Tonka trucks, he had something quite majestic in mind.

***

The variety of Tonka trucks employed in Doo's project was impressive.

He had big diggers, dump trucks and even a few earth movers. The Tonka vehicles were clearly from a previous era. They were made with metal, rather than the hard plastic used in today's variety. Later, Doo told me Sticky, his new step dad, bought the "twucks" for him at the flea market.

***

My arrival on the scene seemed to distract Gordon.

He moved his attention away from Doo and started to tell me about the damage. He talked as if I was unable to see it with my own eyes. Meanwhile, Doo stood with his hands in his pockets. He wore a confused look on his face. He knew he was in trouble. But he seemed unsure about how much trouble might be coming his way.

Eventually, Gordon ran out of steam and we made a plan to repair the damage. Doo and I would fill in the holes, replant some of the flowers and prepare the area where the grass was ruined. Gordon would run over to the nearest garden centre and pick up a single roll of sod.

Gordon even agreed that Doo's mom and Sticky wouldn't be advised of the matter, providing Doo gave a reasonable effort in the reconstruction. Doo thought this was a fair arrangement. He likes digging very much.

***

Doo's face, hands and clothing were spotted with dirt and sweat even before we carried out the repairs. By the time Gordon returned with the sod, I was well on my way to looking the same way.

Gordon put the sod in place and went off to retrieve his garden hose. Despite the magnitude of Doo's original project, we had carried out a surprisingly reasonable repair.

When Gordon returned with the hose, I went into the Wonders' house and picked up some cherry popsicles. Then Gordon, Doo and I sat on the ornamental rocks. We ate the popsicles and admired our work.

"I don't remember the last time I had a popsicle," Gordon suddenly said. His lips were starting to look bright red from the cherry flavouring.

"Me neither," Doo replied. The cherry popsicle made his mouth look like it was covered by hastily applied lipstick.

"That's funny," I answered, "I was just thinking about that earlier."

***