Right, this will by my third and last entry of the day, okay?
5:27 p.m.
Next stop was Provigo on King Est, where we returned 42 beer bottles for the refund and fed plastic pop bottles and cans into the fun machines that eat them up and then spit out receipts. Yum. I cheated ever so slightly. One of the bottles in the Labatt�s Blue Light box (a two-four) was not a beer bottle. It was a rootbeer bottle, which that store does not accept under normal circumstances. I am so evil.
Then we filled our shopping cart with wondrous food of all shapes, sizes, colours and textures, including but not limited to fresh produce, eggs, yogourt, ch�vre and a still-warm baguette, which paired with the goat cheese made a most delightful lunch. Then home, Jeeves! So far this is an extremely boring entry, and one that does not deserve to be reread. Let�s see how long I can keep this up.
Little Princess needed a drive to her 1 p.m. class, and since it was raining and I had forgotten the things I was going to pick up for our goddess party, I caved. I bought a box of red wine (it keeps fresher in the box!), a bottle of white, and some veggies and dip, which I prepared at home to bring later. Driving home from Provigo I thought I saw the barbershop open for business, so I took Buddy Boy back into town, but it was not to be, for there in the window of the shop was a sign informing the shaggy-headed public that Mr. Beattie would not be back until Wednesday. Sigh. So instead I took my only begotten son to Java where we had liquid refreshment and played a couple of games of backgammon (one win apiece) and had a smashing good time. I like my son. He�s a cool kid.
Now here comes the interesting part of the entry, if anyone has lasted this long. The first �act� for the goddess presentation was a young woman who had prepared a belly dance. She was beautiful, with long black hair, a gorgeous costume she had made especially for this show, and a golden veil. Her dance was incredible. I am such a neophyte when it comes to belly dancing. There is just so much I cannot do. She was incredible. When she was done a young man in the second class read three poems he had written, which were selections from the book he is compiling of poetry inspired by Greek goddesses. They were very good. This was followed by another girl (from my class this time) belly dancing. She performed two shorter dances, and then a special third one celebrating birth joined by her twin sister because, as she explained, she couldn�t imagine birth without her twin. It was very beautiful, not as spectacular as the first girl�s presentation, but still very moving and evocative. The evening ended with another girl from my class reading three monologues. She was excellent, having studied at the National Theatre School and done work with various theatre companies before coming to Bushop�s to pursue a liberal arts education. I was totally sucked in.
Then we partied in the lobby with the vegetables and dip, cheese and crackers, and wine and non-alcoholic beverages. I had brought my lamia as a centrepiece for the table, and my classmates were very impressed. She does look good, I must say. But this is Tuesday, and on Tuesday evenings at 7:30 Little Princess is supposed to be picked up from the front door of her college. I looked at my watch, which said 7:50, and telephoned home to see if Hubby had got her. He had not. He arrived home after listening to juries all day and scholarship auditions totally exhausted and starving, with no supper in sight, and had totally forgotten what day of the week it was and why it was special. So I drove over to the college (it was pouring rain, or I would have walked), and brought Little Princess back to the studio theatre where she partook of cheese and crackers and veggies and dip.
I suppose this should be the end of the story. But a young Brazilian exchange student was telling me about his adventure yesterday rafting on the Massawippi with none other than my anarchistic student who sings unaccompanied juries, who was apparently under the influence, and how their raft rotted out from underneath them and they all ended up in the drink. It was very cold, they had to walk for 15 to 20 minutes back to where they�d left the cars carrying their dripping clothes, and made it back to town without loss of life or limb. Crazy kids. I remember that after his jury yesterday, David had told me they were embarking on this suicide mission, and would I be interested in joining them? I�m very glad I declined.
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