Saturday, April 16, 2011

Potatoes

couch potatoes
Did I mention I'm part wolf?  No, not the kind presented by Warner Brothers-the one with the long snout and a piercing whistle when a a hot woman walks by.

The Pooch(Salvatore Pucci) comes inside after a stint punching his morning time clock at preset mouse stations under the deck, on the south fence line and in the woodshed.  He's covered in snow.  As the cat walks up the steps from the entry way into the main hallway, Mandy makes sure she gets a passing whiff. It's a time, temperature,date and olfactory stamp on the part of the blue heeler. I , too, love to snuffle. Shampoo, perfume, the french fryer outside the Kickapoo Inn, garlic simmering in my kitchen.

In a ludicrous pipe ceremony at the height of the new age fascination for anything Native American , I receive an Indian name.The pipe carrier is a woman. Highly unusual.  In the bathroom a friend overhears a conversation. The pipe carrier is in a stall talking to a friend.  "Let's get the hell outahere,"she says, "and go have a beer."  Hey lady, I'm all for the beer but you got fans out there that wanna tell their friends they been inducted into the Native American Hall of Fame with names like Woman who Farts Discretely, High Eagle or Tall and Stately Tree .  People are asked,
"If you want an Indian name to sign up on the paper being passed around the circle."
I pass on the sign-up.  I'm still wanted in several states for punning with intent.  I wear a black turtle neck and fasten a square faux -ivory pin at the front of my collar which gives me  a priestly look.  I'm having fun with the charade as people politely defer to me on questions about absolution for past life sins.

The pipe carrier comes to me, looks me in the eye and says,
"I name you White Thunder Wolf. If you want that name repeat it back to me."
Another classic WOW moment. I break off a relationship with white witch with deep blue pixie eyes from  Milwaukee's sout' side.  She accused me of sending junk mail to her co-dependent mother. Yes, really-junk mail.  As I'm standing on her porch retrieving things I'd left in her bathroom, she says to me,
"I am soo sorry about what I said. Please forgive me. What can I say?"
In my classic John Wayne imitation, I draw myself up to my full six feet one inch height and reply,
"Just say good bye."


To the pipe carrier, I reply,
"White Thunder Wolf???"
She doesn't see the question marks.
Later I'm named by a real Anishnabe. I can't tell you my name.  I'm not allowed. It has something to do with "wolf."
Our self portrait
  Dawn is the swan. I'm the wolf.  Dawn's maiden name freely translates from the German to Swan By The Lake. Beware of Swans. They can break your leg with a flap of those wings.

The kids are shut in today. At 10:47 it's still snowing. Saturday, April 16th.  Dawn is off making her lasagna garden presentation.  The  weatherman promised that the white stuff would melt.  Oh yeah,sure, you betcha.  If weather patterns follow prescribed patterns, there will be a sudden cold spell.  Easter bonnets will be fur lined.  The potatoes are ready for sowing on Good Friday. Until then, chop water and carry wood as Buddha says and wait for yer onions to rot. 

2 comments:

okjimm said...

I used to like couch potatos.... but the stuffing kept getting caught in my teeth

Gavrillo said...

That's really funny. Can I steal it? Do you want credit for the line or have I been under a rock so long, that it's a comic standard? Too many questions. Not enough freezer space. Read your post today. It ruined me from writing anything in my blog because I wish I were that eloquent. Really. I'm not trying to be funny or whatever. Then again, it could be a result of an April 19th snowstorm. Cripes.