Tycho vs. Bat: Round Two!

This week I stopped by the downtown Dollarama to root out some treats for my little man at home... last time we played with his soldiers, neither of us took the initiative to collect them all up off the floor again, and as a result there was a mini massacre happening all week as I kept stepping on them and snapping off their legs. Feeling guilty about this, I thought I'd pick up another bag of 200 little green army guys for T... but I found something BETTER! It being Halloween, and Tycho being a bat superhunter, I bought him a bag of little plastic bats, and one giant mother of a bat! You should have seen him... it was like "I let you get away once, I will not let you get away again!" We tied a string abou the big bat and had a great time running like mad through the apartment together. Tycho hasn't lost any of his bat-hunting skills, that's for sure... but I still get a little explosion in my guts whenever I glimpse the bat out of the corner of my eye... shudder...




There was also another Tycho-related big event the other day, which I won't describe in detail because reliving it is almost as bad as living through it the first time. It involved a door left slightly ajar, a rogue kitty wandering up the fire escape by himself, and a frantic Megan. Thanks to my anonymous neighbour who observed my panic and called out to me: "Ton chat! Il est la-bas!" and we both looked, and there, three floors above my own stoop, a little orange head was sticking out between the railings, cool as a cucumber. I have never felt so relieved and so mad before in my life! Little goon!


This is a weekend of small possibilities... small possibility of a semi-surprise visit from a long/lost, small possibility of finishing my first written-in-montreal prose piece, small possibility of finishing my first round of marking, small possibility of drinking more raspberry beer... and very BIG possibility of seeing Pauline and reminiscing about the good ol' Rouen days!

This is the Rue D'Horloge in Rouen, where we would walk each day en route to the Lycée for school... it's so strange to think that it keeps on existing long after I've left. Such is the ego-centricity of humanity, I guess. Other places fall under this category of default non-existence when I'm not in them: Paris, London (ON), Dundalk, etc. Which reminds me of a funny story: I was at a poetry reading the other day and one of the poets was a Cape Bretoner, and she told this [apparently true] story about a young British couple who were on holiday, and they thought they had bought a plane ticket to Sydney, the Autralia version, but they had actually bought a train ticket to Sydney, the Nova Scotia version... there's a poem about it now, by Anita Lehay, and it's incredibly good... I was going to post an excerpt but somehow that feels wrong. I don't know how I'd feel if I googled my own name and found people blogging excerpts of my writing. Ask me to hear the poem and I will read it to you!