“What better way to pass the day than drinking a tall glass of whisky and beer on ice at Buddy K’s.” (Most commonly called a Boilermaker/ Originated in Butte, Montana, in the 1890’s, then-called a “Sean O’Farrell” and drunk by copper miners after shift in the heyday of America’s first major industrial city. No ice cubes back then though!)
That’s what Mom said last Saturday evening, as we were winding down after a week of hanging out and watching over Granddaughter at our home while Big Sis is solo-backpacking in faraway Thailand. Fortunately all went well, which is not always the case when living in TCHC where anything can happen to spoil the mood at any given moment.
“Even better when it’s free,” Buddy quipped.
Never did like the lick of beer or wine spilled on the ground. And I won’t forget that summer afternoon 13 years ago when we lived on the top floor in the biggest apartment of all at Warden & Sheppard Avenue East, a short walk to the McD’s and a most delicious upscale Italian Bistro. Did U know that year in the very same neighborhood I was run over by a car? My fault; nevertheless a traumatic near-death experience and a tail to tell. Moving on, Mother went to take a pee, leaving me tied under the shade of a tree beside her lawn chair next to the fence surrounding the out-door pool and I bypassed my water bowl, pushed over the carefully placed thermos full of Mudslide and slurped it all in a jiffy. Chocolate and alcohol! Not a good mix for a dog. Knocked me out for hours and gave wicked diarrhea for 2 days. Back to Buddy’s Basement. Sure did appreciate his Mother putting on a 2nd breakfast specially for Us even though we arrived past noon.
Dinner was served early so Mam could clean up quickly before settling down to watch the hockey game. Toronto Maple Leafs vs New York Rangers. Spoiler alert, Leafs lose. When finished they carried dirty dishes up to the kitchen and she liked to do the rest herself without distraction of a helping hand. Now, you might not approve of dog’s eating hot dogs. Too bad! Cabbage rolls were on the menu and not “good” for me, according to my Mom. “Awe come-on,” objected her friend. She’s the boss, hence the all-beef substitute were extracted from their freezer.
Mother chopped 1 in a bowl before serving herself a hefty helping and we ate heartily; except K who prefers to eat before bed. Then it happened. A quirk out of the blue. A kaleidoscope of chaos. Not fully satisfied, Mother decided to go upstairs and get more food for her and another portion pour Moi. After placing the plate on the table by the full Boilermaker and an ice cold beer in a bottle, she dropped down onto the couch and proceeded to kick a loose cushion out of the way, intending to stay put for a while. The pillow ricochet backwards through the air, hit the table, knocked over her drink, tipped the bottle, beer and booze spreading towards K’s carefully laid out tax documents on the opposite end! They made a mad dash to save the day with Mom apologizing over and over till all was under control again with the paperwork drying elsewhere and furniture getting a much needed polish. Here’s the Zinger; the plate didn’t budge, but somehow the contents bounced, sending bits and pieces of cabbage, meat and a whole wiener to land on the carpet several feet away. Bonus! I ate all in a flash and no use scolding after the fact!
Did you read the story in The Toronto Sun on Friday March 22, 2019 about The ‘Magic’ Fridge? Down in Nebraska 2 Nebraskans were standing knee deep in mud and exhausted from a long day clearing debris from property after a destructive weather ‘Bomb Cyclone’ caused major flooding of the Platte River valley near their homes. Lo and behold, like a “gift from heaven,” 1 of them spied a refrigerator filled with ice-cold beer and shared it with the other. Smack in the middle of the field. Freebie! Cheers People!