Ask the shopkeeper

Spent half an hour at Canadian Tire in the automotive section looking for products recommended at Cool Tools. Couldn't find any of them. Finally asked a clerk. She located all three within a few minutes.

So when I went to the tool section, as soon as I saw a guy in a red shirt, I said, "drill bits?" Then after I got set up there, "drywall anchors?"

I'm telling you it's the way to go.

Mind you, it's not like the next time I'm sailing somewhere and not sure where I am on the chart, I'll be asking for directions.

Dandelion Salad

Last evening when I got home from the salt mine, I noticed some fresh dandelion leaves beside the stump outside my cave.

Plucked them, rinsed them, put them in a bowl, added some salad dressing from a bottle in the icebox and ate them.

Tasted okay and no ill effects.

I realized half-way through that if I did have ill effects, I'd have to still try them again because the salad dressing in the icebox must be at least four years old. Lucky, eh?

The Horror Abates

The sweet receptionist is using my coffee now. She's just not using enough.

The Downside of a Secret Identity

1. When somebody famous says "Nicely done" for something your secret identity did, your public identity can't put the quote on the back of a book.
2. Mysterious gaps in your resume.
3. The answer to "how are you?" is always complicated.
4. So is remembering all your passwords.
5. Different allergies.

The Royalty of Sinking Ships

I wheeled past the Lady Dive up in Confederation Square today. It takes all I can do to not yell at the tourists, are you crazy?

What do you think, could we get a web mob together some day? All along their route people could yell things like get off the bus! and don't do it! and we could carry signs with messages like Remember the Lady Duck!".

Royal Watching

To get away from the coffee situation (let's not talk about it, enough to say, I failed to make the switch yesterday) I had lunch at the Shawarma Queen.

My first time there. Of course I've been to the Shawarma King. The Elgin and the Bank Street both. And at the Bank Street Shawarma King I learned that they were owned by the same people. Along with the Shawarma's King further north. (The sign-maker made a mistake.)

So after ordering my sandwich and glass of water, I asked if I could ask a question. "The Shawarma King and the Shawarma Queen... are they married?" Before the guy could answer, I added, "or divorced?"

"Divorced," he said.

I left it at that. I felt like I'd already pried too far into something that might be painful.

Good shawarma, I must say. Lots of chicken. Tasty sauce.

The Horror Continues

"I made coffee again," she said. "How was it yesterday?"

And with 89 days still to go to Talk Like a Pirate Day, I merely said, "it was fine." But I've got a plan. Mix some Nicaraguan Dark with her unpalatable blend and see if it perks it up tomorrow. (Ha, get it? "perks it up"? I'll have to save that for my pun-loving friend Coyote.)

Meanwhile, it's good to see the wee ducklings practicing up for Sept. 19:

Good News Bad Coffee

Got some good news this morning. Seems next year I'll be working an upper tunnel. So stopped at the Bramasole for a celebration breakfast. Great western sandwich, great homefries, terrible coffee.

So here at the Salt Mine, was all set to mix up some Nicaraguan Dark Roast, but one of the other miners had made coffee already. "Help yourself," she said. Couldn't see a way to pour her stuff down the drain and make my own so now I'm drinking even worse coffee.

It just goes to show that the universe is all about balance.