Hey Honey! Look! Somethin' shiny!!!

" I see dead people"

Evening Scrubs and Scrubettes - it's yer 'ol pal Scrubbie here on a Saturday evenin'. Howz it goin?

Whoosh - Scrub is just back from another evening at Oktoberfest. This time, Scrub was hangin' at a real, honest to goodness fest hall. The Schwaben Club in Kitchener. Goodness, gracious boys & girls - it was a hoppin' place tonight. While there, was treated to some traditional German folk dancing and all. Also got entertained by a phenomenal band. Lots of beer steins. *giggle. Good times. Tonight - wraps up Oktoberfest for another year. Gotta put away the sauerkraut and sausages for another 356 days.

Sooooo - I see dead people. Well, not really. I'll let ya in on a little secret though. Scrub is a wee bit sensitive when it comes to stuff like that. Some of the friends and fam are already aware of this. Not a big deal.

But - reason I mention it is cause there is one person in Scrubs fam that Scrub is particularly "sensitive" to. It's my dear Auntie Jen. Love the 'ol dear to bits. There she is - just to the left there. With the Wife. In the pic. See?

But - me and Auntie Jen - we have this tendancy to feel what the other is feeling. No kidding.

If Auntie Jen bangs her elbow, I feel it. If I twist my ankle, Auntie Jen calls to tell me her ankle hurts. Freaky - yes. Funny - sometimes. Annoying - ya, pretty much.

It's been like this for years. Drives us both nuts. Everytime there is unexplained pain... the phone rings.

Ok - quick change of topic.

The Wife has control of the TV right now. She's got the remote. This saddens me. See... just this very moment - the Wife had the guide thingy that tells what's on and when. Ya know what I'm talkin about? So - I glance up on the screen. The following very short conversation ensued:
Scrub: "ooooo - Predator!"
Wife: "ooooo - Project Runway"
We are now watching Project Runway. *sigh

Gonna have to distract her and snatch the remote.

Oh dear Lord... Where's that Crown Royal?

Pour yourself a coffee. Grab a tissue. She's at it again.

Evenin' kids. It's yer ol pal Scrubbie here.

Boys & Girls - ya'll might recall the Wife and Scrub have a pal named Hurricane, right? You remember - dynamite under the driveway, gives directions to confused burglars who just burgled the neighbours house, locks herself IN her new car? Yep - her.

Well - our deal pal Hurricane is sittin' here - right beside me - on the couch - right now. Seriously. Glass of red wine in hand. Cuddled up in her usual spot.

And, the Wife, me and Rona have been chattin away.

During this wee chat of ours, we were discussin' our dear pal Hurricane and her bizarre exploits of the past. And, Scrub was reminded of yet another.

Oh - and, just as a reminder - these tales are all, in fact, quite true. Accurate. Not exaggerated. In any way.

Sooooo.... few years back - ya'll might recall that you could go to yer local trading post and swap out a skin or two for somethin' called a disposable camera.

Great little inventions they are. Grab one. Snap some pics. Take it back to the trading post and whiz-bang... a couple 'a days later... you gots yerself a mitful of photos to remind you of all kindsa fun had.

Hurricane - decided to take advantage of this marvelous invention.

Goes to the trading post. Swaps a skin. Gets herself a camera.

But - and you already knew this was comin. Didn't ya?

She snaps a few pics. And, bein' a disposable camera - chucks it in the bin. "It's a disposable" she thinks to herself. But... the kicker is... SHE IS SHOCKED WHEN SHE GOES TO THE COUNTER AT THE TRADING POST TO FIND THERE ARE NO PICS!

Now... lets just be clear here. The Wife and me - love the gal to bits. She's part of the fam. Been there for some 20 odd years now. Godmother to the Kid. (What were we thinking?) BUT... SERIOUSLY!?!

Holy jumpin' - Scrub needs a drink.

Scrubbie Mommy is at it again.

Oh Mommy - you are sooo funny!

Morning boys & girls - Scrub here. Sniffly... but feelin' fine.

Alright - lets just get this outa the way up front. Scrub's fam - well.... a bit loony. Not to imply that we are all black and white, sing hauntingly and enjoy floating in water - like a Loon. Ya know... the bird. The Loon.

No - I mean more like - silly. Goofy. Unpredictable. Freaky. The kinda people that inspire people to cross the street when they see us strollin down the sidewalk towards them. Ya - that kind.

But - we're a loving bunch.

Seriously.

All of us.

Brothers, sisters, cousins, second cousins, third cousins, cousins twelve times removed, aunts, uncles - the whole extended bunch. All very very loving.

And we show it.

All the time.

No kidding.

Huh? Proof?

Well - take, for example, Scrub's mommy. Scrub's pappy is lying in a hospital. Clinging to life. (welll... not really clinging to life. he's gettin' along just fine). And what does Scrub's mamma take the time to do? Take a look. Mamma loves Scrubbie.



Only question I have is: Who the hell is studly there?

A whole lotta nuthin'.

Brrrrrrr. And, I mean Brrrrrrrr!

Evening boys & girls. It's yer ol pal Scrubbie here. How ya'll doin?

Not much happenin'. And what is happenin' is, of course, pretty menial.

So - lets get goin, shall we?

The Wife - School - good. Doing a "Human Resources" component. As this is Scrub's area of expertise, we find ourselves chattin about her homework quite a bit. Currently at 2 o'clock to Scrub, in the marshmallow chair, cuppa tea in hand, jammies on, scrappy stuff on the folding table in front of her, eyes transfixed on the yahoo's on this seasons serving of Survivor.

Lunatic dog - at 3 o'clock to Scrub - on the floor - tongue thing goin on. Ya'll recall our neurotic fuzzball has this thing where she licks licks licks. Not people - just the floor and the air. Looks like a lizard. Her tummy is full. She's a content 'lil bitch.

The Kid - in the engine room. Hangin out. Bing of Bing and Bong fame is here right now. Or was at least.

Scrub - well, bit of the sniffles. Nothin' serious. Not H1N1 anyway. Cuppa tea in hand. And, just as intrigued by the yahoos on Survivor as they blend up all kindsa beasties such as giant clam, octopus and crap like that in a blender to make up a mega gross smoothie. Geez - not for me. Blech.

Scurb's pappy - well, the ol boy is in the hospital right now. All kindsa stuff goin on with his insides. But, he's in good hands and I'm sure will be comin' home soon. Scrubbie Mommy, Scrub's baby brother and Scrub rushed the old fella up to the local doctorin' facility comin' up on a week ago. Rough shape back then - but comin' around nicely.

And, a little digiscrappin happenin'. Check this out.

Who is this you ask?

Well - it's JR of course! Scrub's bro-in-law... dashing, sexy, slightly damaged, happily medicated. Yep. That's him.

Cute eh?

The digi goodies can be found here:

http://creativedelusionzscraps.blogspot.com/2008/10/boyz-rule-freebie.html

Ok - so, I mentioned BRRRRRR. Yes - Scrub lives in the Great White. I get it. I'm kewl with it. But - geez louise - the weather forecast for tonight is snow! C'MON!!!!!

Well - there it is kids. That's all I got. As soon as these sniffles are gone, Scrub will head out into the world. As you know - there's always a few odd folk kickin' around. I'll see who I can dig up. And, of course, ya'll be the first to know.

Later!

Caution.

The rutabaga, swede (from Swedish turnip), or yellow turnip (Brassica napobrassica, or Brassica napus var. napobrassica) is a root vegetablethat originated as a cross between the cabbage and the turnip.

Morning Boys & Girls - It's yer ol pal Scrubbie here.

Yes, the lowly rutabaga or yellow turnip. Culinary underdog. Delicious houseguest. And, as it is a root veg - friend to many a pioneer.

Ahhhh - how we love to simply toss it's fleshy core into a pot of steamy water that has been hit with a good pinch of salt. How we relish draining away the cooking liquid and tumbling the soft chunks into a bowl - watching the steam billowing up. And, that moment of dolloping creamy golden butter onto the shards and seeing it slide down and in between the cracks of each goldenrod piece just moments before a firmly gripped masher plunges into the bowl.

A wonderful mass of fluffly goodness sits before you - dotted with a peppery black flakes - and cries for a fork to bring up a taste. This, my friends, is how the Borg came up with the phrase "Resistance is futile".

Like a bride to its hearty meat groom, their pairing is perfect, loving and everlasting.

Yes children - today is the day. Go. Now. Forage through your local trading post or dig with anticipation through your fields and retrieve an orb or two. In no time at all - you will be in tastebud heaven.

Just don't turn up to your in-laws' without preparing at your own igloo first. Your mother-in-law will be pissed.

Happy Thanksgiving Canada!

I am gravely concerned.

Morning boys & girls. It's good 'ol Cuzin Scrubbie here.

Yes, my friends, I am gravely concerned.

First, however, I must report on Thanksgiving Dinner with the Outlaws. Deelishushus. Simply put. The wife - her mammy and pappy treated the Scrubbie Fam to a wonderful dinner yesterday, as you know. Good times.

Ok. So - here in the Great White... this weekend is our Thanksgiving Day celebrations. Nice eh? Our neighbours to the south - they have theirs comin' up soon enough. Other parts of the world - yer probably wonderin' what the hell all the fuss is aboot. (I threw in the "aboot" for those of you abroad who get the giggles when we Canucks say things like "oot and aboot" rather than "out and about".) Well, round here, in the Great White, we tend to throw a party whenever there is anything to do with a harvest. Seriously. Well - as you know, we have snow on the ground and minus 400 degree weather a good chunk of the year - so anytime we have a chance to grow somethin', yank it out'a the ground and shove it down our gullets - it's a party!

Anyway... ya, today - Thanksgiving. Oh - and I really should say: "Happy Thanksgiving to all in the Great White today!"

So, yesterday, the fam was with the Outlaws doin dinner. Today, Scrub and the fam have a full day. Thanksgiving Day Parade today. This aft - headin' to Scrub's mamma and pappa's for more consumption of mass quantities. (did you get that reference as well? No? Coneheads. ?? No? K - don't worry)

Parade? Oh ya- we have a Parade here too. Part of it is to celebrate Oktoberfest. Part of it - Thanksgiving. An event particularly for the Scrubbie fam 'cause the Kid is part of the parade. See - we take all the children of our village and hook them up to the trailers and floats and yell MUSH to get them to pull the displays of harvest veggies and such through town. Kinda show off our strapping youngsters to others. Give the dogsled teams a break for once. Nice, eh?

giggle

Ok Ok - no... we don't really do that. But, the Kid is a part of the parade.

As you may recall... the Kid can only count to 8 unless he's naked. He was born missing a couple 'a digits on one hand. Blah, blah, blah... long story. Suffice to say that it was just one of the spontaneous birth things and everything is kewl. But - as the Kid doesn't have a matching set of hands... we belong to the WarAmps. Great organization. Look it up sometime.

And, as the Kid is but a youngster, he belongs to the CHAMP program which is part of WarAmps. Also very kewl - check it out sometime.

And, the WarAmps program has a float in the Thanksgiving Day Parade here.

See - all coming together now, isn't it?

And, the Kid - is riding ON the float in the parade.

And, as the Kid ain't of dogsleddin' age just yet - his parents are required to escort the little bugger around.

And, as the parade kicks off early in the morning and there is oodles of prep that needs to happen 'fore the bands and floats go marching on through town... we have to get there early.

And, as winter is approachin' and days are gettin shorter and the earth's axis and rotation 'round the sun and... *gasp, huff and puff.... well.... you get the idea.... bottom line - ITS TOO DAMN DARK OUTSIDE MOST OF THE TIME.

So - Scrub, who incidentally LOVES his warm cuddly bed with his warm cuddly blankies and his warm cuddley lunatic dog and warm cuddly wife is waking up early, in the dark and in the cold, on a holiday Monday to look out frost covered windows into the blackness that his brain and body are still calling night.

I love bein Canadian.

But - as eluded to earlier... I do have some grave concerns.

Apparently, Scrub's Happy Pills ain't workin. Hmmm? Why? Well - 'cause I can still hear the little voices in my head calling me an idiot and telling me to go back to bed.

THATS WHY!

The Outlaws

Oh - it looks so different!

Howdy kids. Yer ol pal Scrub here slammin' on a white keyboard for a change.

Alright - just to make things interestin - Scrub is takin a wee moment to do a little interweb blog thing from a different locale. Right now - the wife, the kid and Scrub are hangin at the Outlaws' place. High in the sky. And, we're just about to sit down to a yummy dinner. Well... lets hope its a yummy dinner!

I'll let ya know soon.

Prost!

Zicke zacke zicke zacke hoi hoi hoi!

Guten Tag Jungs & Madels! Ihr alter Jumpel Scrubbie hier!


Yes kids... that is German there. Well, at least German as our good friends at Google have suggested.


So - why throw a little bit of an acce
nt into Scrub's blog today? Well - Scrub was out 'a festin' last night. OK - so not "really" festing. See... as you may recall, when Scrub isn't bein a pappy - or a hubby - or a 9-5 slugworm... Scrub puts in a few hours bein a volunteer for a child-safety oriented organization. And, last night, Scrub and few of his pals were out selling some Oktoberfest trinkets. We get a portion of the proceeds to fund the organization.


Good times kids. Seriously good times. Last night, was at a Fest Hall called Heidelburg Haus. This particular venue is not one of the traditional German fest halls. We gots a few of them 'round here. See... Kitchener, where Oktoberfest happens, is steeped in German heritage. In fact, the city was once called Berlin. But, having the city called Berlin kinda fella outa fashion and it was renamed to Kitchener. (Geez - history lesson on a Sunday morning. Weren't ex
pecting that were ya?) Anyway... Fest Halls. Ya. So Heidelbug Haus is not a traditional German fest hall. In fact, it hold particular appeal to the younger folk. University and College folk. Oh sure - there's a contingent of us middle agers there. And, there's always the die-hard Festers that travel hall to hall through all 9 days of the celebration. But, most of 'em - are mega hormoned students who tend to keep the barley-malt-and hops bevvies flowing pretty good all night long.


Oh - it was one of those people-watching adventures for sure.


Couple of great bands crankin out music.


Smell of Bavarian food permeating every corner of the hall.

Yep - for 3 and a half hours last night - Scrub was in sensation heaven.


Oh - there there was this there too.






Prost!


**The Wife Here...** Scrubbie...you conveniently forgot to tell me about the volumptuous beer steins! Hmmmmmm! We need to talk...