Stouffville, Ontario Canada (647) 962-1997 gwstudios@rogers.com M-F 8:30am - 2:30pm & 8:00pm - 11:00pm

Month: June 2022

That was a lot of work.

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Both the party itself, with all the prep work, and the building of, and hanging of a screen door built from scratch. I am exhausted. I think my wife appreciated the party and all of the accoutrements. The cheese selection, and fancy baguettes went over well. Could have held off on the veggie tray/fruit tray, but I’m glad to have offered the choice anyway. We didn’t end up needing pizza. The white wine from Yellow Tail, a Pinot Grigio was well received too. Glad I had it on hand, chilled of course. First time we’ve busted out the wine glasses. Had to wash the dust off of them. Haven’t been used since they were opened after the wedding. Not wine drinkers. Good times.

I didn’t get a chance to make the signature drink, as everyone was driving elsewhere afterwards. But I’ll make myself one at some point soon. I’m anxious to see what the fuss was about. My mixing drinks history extends as far as OJ & Vodka, Cranberry & Vodka, Gin & Lime Juice, or Rum & Coke, or Rye & Coke. Two simple items for one delicious drink. Sex on the beach however, requires Peach Schnapps, Lemon Vodka, Orange juice, Cranberry cocktail, and possibly also a splash of Sprite/7Up. Mixed with shaved Ice like a slushie. That seems complicated, but also, potentially – delicious? I’m hopeful for it to be my new go to for the summer months moving forward. Though it’ll be damn near impossible to knock daiquiris off of that pedestal. My true alcoholic beverage champion. Though a chilled Radler comes in the top five, for sure.

The second party of the weekend starts soon, so I need to get things set up at the in-laws. Ciao bella!

After much struggle, and grief…

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I finally have my screen door hung on the back of the house! I did it, finally. Smashed my thumb with a hammer at one point, fought with the damn thing to hang it myself (took a few tries to even out the top & bottom gap), and cut in my hinge slots. But it is up, it opens, it closes (mostly). I have some fitment issues to finesse tomorrow, but it’s up and today is June 3rd, so I’ll take it as a win. The sun is shining, a cool breeze is on the air, and I got this fucking thing finished. It needs an interior latch, and one more piece of bug blocking trim, but I have it on the house, and that counts for something.

Also I want to start my coffee table build because school will be over before you know it, and I’ll have the kids home 24/7 and won’t be able to putter around inbetween paid work. So start now, pick it back up in September, or if I get a random day/weekend to my self from out of the blue. Oh, my thumbnail is turning purple. That smarts a bit. My driver bit fused to a snapped screw so I held it to whack it, where I should have used pliers to do so. I was rushing. Of course. And gave it a great snapping fuck you with a urethane mallet. PING! GODS be damned!

Fighting with the door made me curse a fair bit. Wind wasn’t helping me either. Got it in though! Wink, wink. That’s what she said. Ha.

I don’t want to talk about our provincial election. Apathy and greed have won the day – yet again. My choice has the charisma of a sand paper laden hand job, so not a surprise the corrupt no show fellas took the win. Maybe next time. FUCK!

The big party is today. I have on hand: Baguettes, garlic bread, various European cheeses, hummus, nacho 7 layer dip, Boursin garlic & herb spread, a veggie tray, a fruit tray, various cured meats, red wine & white wine (chilled) I have Coke, Sprite & Ginger Ale, bottled water, fancy crackers (three kinds) and the ingredients to make my wife’s favourite alcoholic beverage “Sex on the Beach”. I also have two types of nacho chips. Do I need to get pizza aswell? We have five guests who dropped out yesterday with non Covid illness (one whole family). It’s all outdoors, and now there are even fewer of us than previously planned. Blue tooth speaker is charged up ready to roll. I’ll wash the table, dust off the chairs and call it a day. I have ice, and buckets for beverages too, thank you Moosehead Breweries!

I can now feel my heart beat through my throbbing thumbnail. So I’m going to eat lunch and call it a day. Ciao bella!

We have ourselves one of those – midweek PA Days.

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Which is odd, because it is neither a Friday nor a Monday, but in fact today is a Thursday, of all days. It is also our provincial election day. So Teachers can go vote, and work on grade school kids report cards. I voted early to avoid crowds or a rush on the polls. I still do what I can to avoid large groups of strangers. Probably why I’ve only been to the movies once since February of 2020.

Started the day off with the kids reading, and writing in their work books. The youngest practicing letters, and the oldest working on coherent sentences describing what has just been read. It’ll take some extra time (thanks Covid) but we’ll get the reading and writing up to snuff so there isn’t an unnecessary amount of struggling come grade three in the fall.

Had a brief burst of creativity yesterday. I think that makes two or three random short stories over the last month or so since I finished writing book two. Nothing has grabbed me so hard I had to write a follow up. Just flexing my brain muscles, keeping the engine warm, as it were. Seems to revolve around murder and violence, but that may be due to having just finished Don Winslow’s City on Fire, which was pretty good.

“Don’t die on me Bob…”

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“You really won’t like me if I gotta resuscitate you with a boat battery and a set of rusty jumper cables.” Growls the monstrously obese woman in a roughly worn denim dress. Slowly she circles the badly battered man tied to a wicker chair. Sweat trickling down her brow and collecting in pools along her waistband at the back of her skirt. Her wedged heels are cracked and smudged with a mixture of dirt and Bob’s blood, among other things. “Stay with me Bobby, I know the room is hot and all, but… just hang in there big man.” After walking a full circle around the restrained Bob, she leans over at her thick waist to lift his head by the sweat soaked patch of hair. A straggly tuft of grey brown crusted with his own blood. Lifting his chin with her greasy sausage fingers Bob grins through cracked lips, showing off the remains of shattered teeth. He spits a thick glob of bloody phlegm onto the fat womans skirt. “Don’t you worry ’bout me Doris, I’ve got you pegged – babydoll.” With a grimace she drops his head and watches it hang and sway under it’s own weight. Stepping away from the chair and the small violently hot room, she nods at the guards just outside the heavy metal doors. With a scrape the two men get up from their seats, one cracks his knuckles and the other wipes off his glasses with a corner of his t-shirt. Doris shuts the door behind her as the guards step into the room. Not a moment passes as the sounds of a fight break out.

“You fucker! I almost laughed when you called me Doris. Dickhead. You were supposed to call me Delores.” She barks out in a raspy laugh. Bob, a medium sized man with an array of bumps, bruises and lacerations covering his body looks up from his White Castle burger and grins. “You didn’t exactly pull any punches yourself – shit teeth. I gotta find a dentist or something, right fucking quick. Why’d you use a bat anyhow? I thought we agreed on fists only. Cunt.” Bob gums on the last few swallows of his mushed burger. Taking his time dunking the bread and meat patty in his Cola cup. Taking a gulp of his drink and squashing his waffle fries in his hands before slurping down the paste. “Christ almighty this hurts.” He warbles through a mouth full of mush. “Dust your gums with a little coke, and nut up.” She replies tossing a massive ziploc bag of nose candy into Bob’s lap.

After a long, and mostly silent drive out into the desert of Arizona along the historic route 66, Robert and Mary Hutchins pull into a pock marked parking lot of a Motel 6. The vacancy sign flashing a dim neon pink intermittently showing swarms of winged insects. The back end of their nineteen ninety four Ford Taurus is riding decidedly low. Straining as it is, under the weight of various bodies tied up and bound together in the trunk. The late evening sun making the trunk hot to the touch. “How long you think they got?” Asks Bob, chucking the keys over hand out into the field beyond the now dim parking lot. “I don’t know? Why? You really give a shit?” She drawls in response. “No – no I don’t. I do however, gotta see a dentist. Fuck.” He spits out a thick glob of blood, and a tooth chip. Reaching into the back window Bob pulls out a dazzlingly turquoise leather Gucci bag, it has some heft to it.

The couple exit the parking lot on foot, cross over the sun baked black asphalt of route 66 to a small lot set beside a CVS. Open the doors to a pewter coloured mini van and drive off back towards Las Vegas Nevada. With the windows down, and the ac cranked, Mary turns on the radio. They drive off with the sound of Bob Seager trailing behind them in the sweltering night. The sky is a pink, orange, navy blue combo, and the stars begin to twinkle.

Dreams are weird.

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Last night I dreamt that I was composing this amazing blog post (of all things) and I was dictating it out loud and it was all very intense and exciting. But do you think I can recall even a sliver of what it was about? The lasting image was of having fun composing the post, not the actual content within it. Tells you something doesn’t it. Boring! It means it’s more important to me to write, than what I write about. How dull. But that fits me to a T. Pragmatic, robotic me. The act of doing is in itself the reward. How intrinsically valued can you be. Ugh.

Still haven’t found the time nor energy to go see Dr Strange 2, or Top Gun: Maverick yet. Perhaps after these family parties are done. Although, then I need to get on top of planning my youngest’s pool party at the end of the month. Seven confirmed guests so far. Three will be away and can’t come. So this time (with lessons learned) we go 10:00-12:00pm, and stick locally. Fewer guests, and a shorter period of time, earlier in the day. Pizza, drinks, pool, cake and home time! I’ll let my wife sort out the goody bags. The holy grail of childhood apparently. Which isn’t something I recall being a big deal in my childhood. Not sure if I just don’t remember, because I’m thirty five years plus out of that age bracket, or it wasn’t really a thing with the families of my childhood friends. Couldn’t tell you, if I’m being completely honest.

It is strange, what I can and can’t remember about being a kid. I still recollect my late teens years, fairly vividly (because I was sick, and depressed from being sick). But I couldn’t say much about being a little kid. I do know that I was pretty oblivious. It wasn’t until Facebook came around in the early 2000’s when I realized some of my friends had older siblings, or any siblings at all. Singularly focused on my friends or our activities. Didn’t much care for whatever else was going on. Still don’t.

Yeah, dreams are what’s weird.