Thursday, June 22, 2006


Saved By The Smell

Breaking news:

VANCOUVER - A horrible crisis was narrowly averted, Chéz Lapin, this very morning.

I crawled in from work, having spent the night doing exciting data entry thingies, listening to elderly gentlemen explaining to me about their colon problems (one of the perks of the job) and completing (yes, completing) a knitting project for Cari, who, I'm desperately hoping, has had either a garden gnome or a Kiebbler Elf rather than a baby, otherwise this thing is going to look sort of stupid on him, but babies have a way of making even poorly-planned knitting look cute. I cracked a beer, 'cause the early-morning drinking ho said I should, and caught up on some blogs and emails and so on.

And then I suddenly remembered. We keep our garbage indoors (and don't you wish you were me?) because not only do we have deer in the woods, we also have bears and so we only put out the garbage on the actual collection day.

Which was today!

I have anywhere from 3 to 60 people coming over on Saturday to my filthytacky home, and I had no interest in making the guided tour even more interesting. I can see it now. "And this is the kitchen. Yes, this room BEHIND the green garbage bags full of rotting oranges and ants ..."

I hastily grabbed the sac du mallard (which I think is French for duck scrotum but I'm too lazy to babelfish for the French word for garbage, which, I suspect may be "garbáge") and raced to the road, handily depositing it in time for the pickup.

You may now rejoice. Yet another international incident has been averted. And yet another terribly lame post has been posted.

It's safe to come over now.

It takes a real talent to make a description of taking out the garbage into a harrowing tale of adventure and narrowly-missed disaster. You had me on the edge of my seat there ;)

ps I tried to convince Hockey Mom that since she's already in Montana, that's halfway to Vancouver so she'd might as well drop by. I don't think she bought it, she must have looked at a map or something.
Duck scrotum, excellent. If I tried, I could probably remember the word for garbage, but how can one top 'sac du mallard'?

And yes, I have been one to do the duck-scrotum-sprint-in-flimsy-pjs as well. Way too many times to count. Some day, I'll remember on Wednesday night and casually shamble out there, with no worries. Some day.
Wow. Rotting oranges. Tres jealous, madame.
Luckly you live in Canada and all you have to do is look on the box of garbage bags to see the french.
Which I think is "Sac du Garbage"
ahh dude, i wish i were going.
I Love the way you can write about nothing ( very seinfeldish)! And make it funny and interesting! I haven't updated my blog in a while, because my life is much like your garbage day!
Ahhhh rotting oranges, my day should be so exciting! Thanks for sharing this adventure ... you are too funny madame Rabbitch, LOL.
Thank Dog for small victories. Or big ones, it's all relative.
Nothing like a last minute save.
Duck scrotum excellent If I tried I could probably remember the word for garbage.
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