Where did I leave my volcano?
Gary scampers off to Fred Meyer for omellette fixins whilst I am phoning various & sundry folk trying to pin down our San Francisco CD release party date for SEAWORTHY--- oh, where? oh, when? you may ask..soon deets soon! BUT, it will be a doozy, oh yes it will, once that grand day comes and we celebrate the album in our beloved hometown with our sweet peeps all around and the glory and the trumpets. Holy moley, I can't wait-- I do tremble in antici...pation.
Anyhoo, Gary makes some FLUFFY superb spinach/ mushroom/ red pepper/ onion/ gruyere. And I am compelled to yell:
"FLUFFY"
in the duck voice
You may well ask what I mean by duckvoice... well.
For those in the inner True Margrit circle, y'all naturally know about THE DUCK--an alternate persona who sounds remarakably like Donald Duck, but who has a penchant for cursing like a sailor ( yes, I am afraid the duck is keen on fowl language--but saying the word "FLUFFY" is at the top of the list even before swearing). When Stephanie Haffner & I came up to these Northwestern parts for our first tour in 2002, we hardly knew one another, but we soon discovered that we both can speak in the duckvoice--an oft neglected (and perhaps maligned) talent.
Anyhoo.
After fluffiness, we head off to see The Big Volcano Mountain. But alas, thwarted by rain, mist, and running out of time we are beaten back by brute nature. No one will be summiting in our party today. Back to base camp! We must avoid frostbite in our extremities. Oh but we will be back! And we will reorganize the Sherpas...and try again. Why?
Because it is there.
On the way we stop at a little trailhead named, Model Forest which we thought would be a demonstration of new pruning techniques, or hi-tech ultraviolet hydroponics, or some other such horticultural display . But no, it is a minature of the region--a wee model of the nearby highways and wooodlands. Very damned cute.
It got pretty rainy at that point and we head back to the car --not without a longing backward glance or two at the adorable teeny railway tracks. But we must get back to take proper showers before getting on the ferry for the Vashon Island gig.
In Puyallup we notice a "55 and over gated community" across the street from a biker-bar/ tattoo shop named: "INFLICTIONS"
Who came first, we wonder, and how will it end... OH GOD!
It makes me wonder.
Anyhoo, Gary makes some FLUFFY superb spinach/ mushroom/ red pepper/ onion/ gruyere. And I am compelled to yell:
"FLUFFY"
in the duck voice
You may well ask what I mean by duckvoice... well.
For those in the inner True Margrit circle, y'all naturally know about THE DUCK--an alternate persona who sounds remarakably like Donald Duck, but who has a penchant for cursing like a sailor ( yes, I am afraid the duck is keen on fowl language--but saying the word "FLUFFY" is at the top of the list even before swearing). When Stephanie Haffner & I came up to these Northwestern parts for our first tour in 2002, we hardly knew one another, but we soon discovered that we both can speak in the duckvoice--an oft neglected (and perhaps maligned) talent.
Anyhoo.
After fluffiness, we head off to see The Big Volcano Mountain. But alas, thwarted by rain, mist, and running out of time we are beaten back by brute nature. No one will be summiting in our party today. Back to base camp! We must avoid frostbite in our extremities. Oh but we will be back! And we will reorganize the Sherpas...and try again. Why?
Because it is there.
On the way we stop at a little trailhead named, Model Forest which we thought would be a demonstration of new pruning techniques, or hi-tech ultraviolet hydroponics, or some other such horticultural display . But no, it is a minature of the region--a wee model of the nearby highways and wooodlands. Very damned cute. It got pretty rainy at that point and we head back to the car --not without a longing backward glance or two at the adorable teeny railway tracks. But we must get back to take proper showers before getting on the ferry for the Vashon Island gig.
In Puyallup we notice a "55 and over gated community" across the street from a biker-bar/ tattoo shop named: "INFLICTIONS"
Who came first, we wonder, and how will it end... OH GOD!
It makes me wonder.
posted by Margrit | 3:56 PM
2 Comments:
Let me put an immediate stop to this image of me "scampering for omellette fixins." I do not scamper. Nor to I prance or scoot.
No, not I.
I prefer to think that I leap with reckless abandon.
i have seen you hop though
Post a Comment
<< Home