an assortment of stories

My apologies for the lack of a post last week. As a traditional procrastinator, I kept putting it off from day to day until I ran out of days. Since this was brought to my attention, I have kept careful track of my weekend in order to have the maximum number of amusing incidents to relate to you.

My Friday evening in the Skate Hut was brightened both by the arrival of my sister, Lydia, and the amusing statements of a staff kid who has asked to remain anonymous. I offered a name change and the offer was eagerly accepted, so for the purpose of this blog post, the staff kid in question shall be known as Wendell.

Wendell eagerly informed the Skate Hut occupants of the susceptibility of Native Americans to our diseases. At first, we were in complete agreement with this. Then, we realized that Wendell meant their current susceptibility, not their historical - i.e. when European settlers brought over smallpox. We attempted to explain that the reason for the vulnerability was due to the isolation of the Native Americans from the Europeans.

Wendell apparently accepted this, but then queried, “What about in Montana?”

Laughter.

Wendell waited for the laughter to die down. “Canada?”

Saturday afternoon brought guests to my house. Having been trained in proper hostess behaviour, I offered them beverages and snacks. Kevin accepted a muffin. We carried merrily on with our conversation until it was interrupted by gagging sounds from Kevin.

I spun.

He held out the muffin, missing a single bite. The bite was missing both from the muffin and the surrounding wrapper.

My failures as a hostess instantly became clear. Always remove the muffin papers. It will help your unwary guests.

As mentioned earlier, my sister is visiting me for the week. She, Naomi, and I enjoyed a cosy sleepover on Sunday night. A regularly intermittent beep provided the only strident interruption. We endured it throughout the night. However, when morning brought no cessation, our sanity became threatened.

The great beep hunt began.

The first suspect was the smoke alarm conspicuously situated, white against the knotty pine, on the paneled ceiling. It demonstrated its silence quite convincingly.

We spread throughout the house, and even into the connecting hall of the triplex. Nothing. The beep continued. We listened intently, casting about for the source and finally met by the back wall. Nothing was there. No sign of anything that could beep.

Inspiration flashed across Naomi's face. She reached out and opened a cabinet, formerly hidden, disguised by the pattern of the paneling. She rooted through the cabinet and brought out the culprit - another smoke alarm. There was much rejoicing.

And that was pretty much my weekend. I did the usual work. Campers had the usual amount of fun. A good time was had by all.

Teen retreats this weekend!