The Gin Joint and the Big, Sad, Bloody Beaver.

Saturday. It's just one of those day, ya know? The most randomly sociable day of the week. The day when you run into friends and talk with a laissez faire that differs from your usual week-day urgent tones. The squids and I took a trip to the first Farmers' Market of the season. We were packing heat in the form of the Beav. 

The women at the rummage sale said its original price was $200.00. I bought it for $15.00. It had sat in the Methodist Church foyer for days--an orphaned pop-art eagerly awaiting someone with an eye to adopt his disgruntled little face. 

Not a minute after I bought him, a woman tried to snag him. One of the rummage sale workers shouted, "You can always out bid her!" 

"I'm poor!" I wailed. I left the church the uncontested owner of a big, sad Beaver Cleaver. 

At the Farmers' Market I was asked about writing. I grumbled. A gal friend of mine went on to talk about her friend in an MFA program and how "some people have a natural gift for writing." 

I told her that at the moment all I had was a natural gift for appreciating gin. 

"I love gin!" A dear artist friend chimed into the conversation. 

And so we met for gin. In my newly cleansed and exorcized home. I introduced her to the Beav. We attempted and failed to play Mahjong. Mahjong is complicated when it's played with tiles. Instead we played gin. We both won. 

All the while I stared at my Beaver. He's sad, and yet he's mischieviously so. We stared at eachother a while in the quiet (it's what one does when they do not have a television--they stare at walls. Fortunately, my wall is now occupied by a television icon, so there. Make sense of that. I dare you). That bloody Beaver Cleaver and I have a lot more in common than I thought we would. We're both big. We're both a little sad and a lot mischievious than. We share a thing, and sometimes that's all you need.  

He's in the dining room. The kids are creeped out. I added more money ($1.17 to be exact) to their therapy jar. 

Views: 114

Comment by JMac1949 Memories on April 14, 2013 at 7:13am

Great pics and great kids I imagine.  R&L ;-)

Comment by alsoknownas on April 14, 2013 at 8:57am

Jeez. A dollar and seventeen cents ? That's it? I dunno if that's gonna work.

I've got eight cents, two paper clips and some lint in my pocket I could add.

Comment by Rosigami on April 14, 2013 at 9:04am

Would you please look at the picture of your adorable son and the picture of the Beav? 

Listen, I developed a deep and abiding affection for Harold (of Purple Crayon fame) because in profile, my son and Harold were spittin' images.

Loved your last line SO MUCH:  
He's in the dining room. The kids are creeped out. I added more money ($1.17 to be exact) to their therapy jar. 

Comment by Lyle Elmgren on April 14, 2013 at 10:06am

Lots of fun.

Comment by tr ig on April 14, 2013 at 12:30pm

All I can say/ask-- who needs mahjong when you have gin? Which is what I think you said, now, in retrospect. I'm glad I caught this, because I would hate to have to break my streak of NEVER missing internet blog posts with bloody beaver in the title. Say hi to the squids. okbai

Comment by Din Mutha on April 14, 2013 at 3:11pm

Thanks, JMac!

AKA- Haha! I agree. I'll need a bucket more change for their therapy. It's a process. And I've got enough lint, thank you. 

Rosi- Yes! I didn't see it until you said it. I think it's the mischief. It comes in bulk here. 

Lyle- Thank you!

tr ig- I had to say something about the beav. I had no doubt you'd be swinging by with a title like this. I'm glad you approve. Thanks buckets, man. 

Comment by Din Mutha on April 14, 2013 at 11:32pm

Rita- Haha! I'm facing reality, here. The parenting snafus and all the crap I've accidentally done (not to mention the unintentional stuff).... Empirical research shows that even the most well-adjusted people go nuts when they have kids.  


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