Were back in Orangeville.
Its meant to be a sleep in, but despite my lack of sleep, I am wide awake.
I peek out the window to see if there has been any snowfall. So far, there is no sign of snow. Its this impending event that we are not sure when will happen, but we know its coming. Its a pain in the ass.
We head downstairs, and I spy a squirrel running around outside. I call out to Bec. She’s been keen to get a good look at one for a while now. Bec runs downstairs and huddles over by the window, with eyes wide and momentary gasps of excitement as she watches the squirrel dart and jump from point to point. Digging, scratching and every now and then, suddenly lifting its head to check and ensure that the coast is still clear.
It’s tail is like a fluffy ribbon. The tail seems to pick up where it’s body left off and follow the same movement and motion. Its crazy. It just hovers and waits for the squirrel to move next. Its pretty crazy to watch.
In previous discussions with Uncle Drew, today is going to be a chill out day. I am 100% ok with that. We decide to head to church with the Uncle. Were about to get on the road, and he offers for me to drive. I’m feeling ambitious, so I take the wheel. I haven’t wanted to focus on the road so much before. I’m not sure how ruthless the cops are, so I stick to the speed limit (even though pretty much everyone hovers around 15km faster).
So check this out. There is the rule on Canadian roads, where you can turn right on the red signal, and its totally awesome. It goes against every rule that I have ever learnt in my driving years, and yes, I pretty much own the road.
We make it through to church and end up having to bail early so we can take Lauren to work, so we say hi to those we just met, and make our way back out the door. This time it is Bec’s turn to drive on Canadian roads.
Bec thinks that it isn’t her turn to drive on Canadian roads.
But! Both Drew and I think that it is her turn to drive on Canadian roads. Being that Drew and I outnumber Bec, she settles on the fact that it is not her turn to drive on Canadian roads just yet. She doesn’t end up driving.
We quickly do the rounds and drop Lauren off to work. She’s a tough cookie. Goes to school an hour away, works most nights, studies and works weekends. 10/10 trooper in real life.
We’re not sure what we should do for the rest of the day, so to help us ponder our dilemma, we do the most practical thing, and head straight for Tim Hortons to purchase a peppermint hot chocolate and a box of 20 timbits (the round inside bit of the donuts) to help us figure out what we should do with the rest of the day.
Turns out that Tim Hortons doesn’t really help the decision making process, but it helped with the ‘kick back and do nothing’ side of the day that we failed to include so far. And that is exactly what happened. We sat. We chatted. We shared Timbits and drinks and odd looks at punters in the queue when we liked their ugly christmas sweaters.
As all good things come to an end, though, so must out time at Tim Hortons. We’re not sure what to do with the rest of the day, and we all cast out our shallow ideas on entertainment, when out of nowhere, we came to the laughable solution for lack of fun, by trying to catch a squirrel. Bec and Drew thought it to be a trivial matter and soon passed onto another subject.
I, on the other hand, was fixated on the thought of being able to catch a squirrel. So, we set out to gather the ingredients necessary to be able to catch the little critter at a very deceptively named store, called Canadian Tyre. Now, yes, part of this shop is to do with Tyres, but they also sell hockey sticks, furniture, apparel, and the main reason we were there, peanuts.
It seems like Canadians generally start a shop with some sort of a niche in mind, and then just go “Oh stuff it. Lets sell everything instead”. There is a pharmacy which is kinda the same. Its just a bit weird. Anyways, we’ve got our peanuts, and we’re waiting in line at the tyre shop, and the cashier bails… and doesn’t come back. So, we leave our peanuts on the shelf… and don’t come back.
We’ve got squirrels to catch, not cashiers to hang around for.
I’ve got this whole elaborate trap plan in place for how I’m going to catch a little critter with such quick reflexes. Its pretty sound. But Uncle Andrew points out that the likelihood of us enticing an animal that is very weary into something very suspicious takes time, and not just peanuts. He suggests that we take a few days to get him used to the idea of having the peanuts lying around, then we introduce the basket, then we put the nuts under the basket, then we catch him.
“Good point. A really gay point. But a good point nonetheless”. I’m keen to catch the animal. Don’t wanna have to wait till the end of the week for it. And what am I gonna do with it when I get it? Its probably got rabies, so I cant really touch it.
I’ll burn that bridge when I get to it.
Well our mastermind plan goes on hold, and we just leave some nuts on the edge of the garden for our mate.
All this crazy exciting squirrel talk has got Bec pumped, and she’s got her heart set on seeing more of them. So, being that I am the husband, naturally, I don’t have any rights and I have to accompany her on her walk. So, off we go into the bloody freezing Canadian weather in search of these tree rats.
We walk across the park, and Bec already has the video camera out.
Was it worth it? No. Why? Cos there was no squirrels. Instead, there was just commentary on the suburban jungle we were exploring which was cut short because of a tree stump that we thought was the rodent we were pursuing. I’m done. Bec’s not. She wants me to come with her.
We push on further, and come across a retirement home, which has a squirrel feeder around the side. We both stop. Bec gets the camera out and this squirrel is stuffing it’s face like its the last meal its going to have, and it hasn’t eaten for months. Like, dude, I’m not here to nick your meal, I just wanna say g’day.
We don’t even get 10m from it before it thinks “Ah balls. This is too risky for me”, does this whole superman dive, into a spider man crawl down the post, turns into the flash, sprints across the grass, and seamlessly morphs into the foliage. Poof. Gone. Bastard.
My guy brain thinks: “Mission accomplished. Squirrel acquired”.
Bec’s chick brain thinks: “Ahh. Now we can enjoy the rest of the walk”.
I soon realise this, change the mission to ‘Achieve Good Wife Time’, and adjust my social plan of attack. I walk along and we chat. Bec is happy that she has seen a squirrel (kind of) up close. We walk through the bushland, and I kinda keep us on a path so that we are headed in the general direction of home the whole time.
I come up with a genius plan… The squirrels hang around the front of houses alot. That is a good place. The suburb we are at is close, so maybe we should head that way…. Yes… Yes, this is a good plan. We get to a fork in the road, and I suggest we head back toward our place so we can see the squirrels in the burbs.
I kinda slip in that I’m cold too.
“If you wanna go home, then I’d rather you just head home” she says.
My face and soul align and proclaim “U bloody wot m8?”, but I do that thing where, as a husband, you don’t want a divorce, so you do that try and do the rational thing. “Babe. That doesn’t make sense. You want me to come with you, and then you don’t care and want me to head home?”
She see’s her fatal mistake, she has a lol, and we are on our way home.
Thank Jebus. Luckily, for her though, we got to see 2 more in half the time. Not gonna say I told you so… but I kinda told you so…
We get home. We chill. We sleep. Thats pretty much it.
Come back later,