I've Blinn Shamed

In March of 2015, I took my family on a "mystery trip" in the swagger wagon.  The family was super excited, because who doesn't want to go on a mystery trip, right?

What will we see?  
Will there be food?  
Where are we going?  
Where, Mumma, where?

This blog post is NOT actually about that particular trip, but let me be brief and detail what we did because I know you're all curious.  We drove to the famed Culbert's Bakery in Goderich for doughnuts and cream puffs, walked around the town square, and checked out some of 2011's tornado wreckage.

It was a bitterly cold day and the kids were cranky, so thank goodness there was food to soften the blow.  

Here are pictures of the town square pre and post tornado:

circa 1985

circa 2011

Quite shocking, isn't it?  The square had been cleaned up by the time we arrived on the scene in 2015, but evidence of the storm's destruction remained.  The kids gave this part of the trip a 6 out of 10 (doughnuts good, walking outside in freezing weather bad; toy store good, not buying anything in the toy store very bad).  

After Goderich, we traveled a short distance to Exeter for the second part of the trip - seeing a "mystery animal" in its natural habitat.  

What kind of animal, Mumma?  A bear?

What does it look like?  Does it have fur?  How many legs?

Is it bigger than the car?

Superexcitedly:  Is it a liger?

I am happy to report that I saw not one, but three mystery animals in Exeter's MacNaughton Park.  I was also thrilled to see that this little park had lovely landscape architecture - bonus!  

The mystery animals were a bit erratic, and one of them "kukked" at me, and I was briefly afraid that it might jump onto my head and attack me.  I didn't need to read How to Speak Squirrel in the Washington Post to know that the squirrel was pissed.  

According to the author, who does "not like to attach anthropomorphic descriptions to the behaviours of lower animals", the squirrel was likely "exhibiting alarm rather than anger", but pissed is pissed, I say. 

  

Treerat's cute, but cute can be dangerous...

It would be adorbs if it wasn't a squirrel

Kids rated this part of the excursion a solid 5 out of 10 (warm car good, treerat bad;  car ride back to London bad, wasted day bad).  

But as usual, I digress.

Today, I decided that Nath and I would go on another mystery trip, but this one would be by bike.  Nath wasn't impressed (I'm hungry.  Will there be food?  Where are we going?  I don't like surprises...)

Gah.  Who invented teenagers anyway?

He had one job to do to get ready for our trip - get the bikes out of the shed - but he failed, electing to play soccer with the 8-year-old and 5-year-old neighbour kids outside.  Grrrrrr.

After I unlocked the shed, dragged the bikes out, locked the shed back up, and yelled at Nath to "get on your bike now dammit!", away we went.  It's chilly out today, but the sun was peeping through the clouds every so often, and the fresh air smelled good.  

We rode east on Bruce and turned north on to Wortley, turned west on Victor and crossed Wharncliffe at Springbank.  Heading west, we merged on to the bikepath and pedalled to Greenside, where we turned south.  A few blocks west on Springbank and we arrived at our destination:  Woodland Cemetery.  Nath guessed where we going before we arrived, and I was only mildly annoyed :-)  We were having mother son fun!

I've written about this cemetery before in Deerly Departed - how funny am I? - as Nathaniel and I had had an adventure there in 2012, and peripherally, that is one of this blog's more popular posts with 428 hits.

But today.  We had no idea what horrors awaited us today.  

We were just there to see some deer.  There has not been a day when I set foot in the cemetery and have not seen at least ten deer.  "They're ever' damn where!", as my stepDad would say, and today was no exception: 

C'mere deer!  

Deer about to be fed by old dude

An old fellow stopped his vehicle and approached the deer with a bag of what I can only assume was breadcrust.  I briefly considered chastising him (for buck's sake dude, don't feed the deer) but I decided to keep my trap shut.  It was Sunday, he was happy, we were happy, the deer were happy - who I was to intrude and ruin this peaceful scene?  

Well, I am not going to lie, I couldn't help myself and I did say, using my best innocent tone within earshot of the man, "Nathaniel, are you supposed to feed the deer?  I don't think you are... " and "What do you think, Nath?  Should he feed the deer?  Deer don't eat white bread!" 

Nath wisely said nothing.  The man didn't even look at me; he just got into his car and drove off. 

I smiled smugly.  

Hey lady, take off eh?

Deer friends until death do them part 

Things soured right about here, but before I get into that, I will break for a surprise because it's in line with the mystery theme in this blog post.

I have a contest for you!  Yup, a contest.

First person to find the deer in the picture below wins a prize!  Comment below and I will tell you what you win.  :-)

I didn't say "geese".  I said "deer"

Okay, the contest part of this entry is over; we'll return to that anon.  

*****

Things were about to get juicy before the break and so I will resume my tale...

Nath decided to approach the deer on foot, which I did not encourage.  He was honked at and hissed at by two Canada geese and that was totally a sign for him to back off, buster.

I heard a car drive up behind me and suddenly I was being screamed at by a white hair sitting in the passenger's seat of a white SUV:  "You are disrespectful!  You are disrespecting this property!  It does NOT belong to you! Shame!"

I was baffled.  I had no idea what I had done, but whatever it was, it was BAAAAAAD!

She of the white hair, red scarf and dark sunglasses continued her tirade:

"You are IGNORANT!  I saw you stand on that headstone!  THAT IS DISGUSTING!"

I considered this as she continued her onslaught. Had I stood on a headstone?  Really?  Was this unconscionable behaviour on my part?

   

A - ha!  

I had stood on the bottom ledge (about a foot wide and a foot off the ground) of this headstone (Mr. Blinn) to take a picture because I couldn't see the deer properly:

Hiram Wetherby, you da man.  

I didn't even think about standing on the ledge, actually.  I am in the habit of moving to where I need to be to get a good photo, and as such, I didn't think that this was particularly out of the ordinary or offensive.  I wasn't defacing / humping / spray painting / lounging on / smashing / scuffing / trying to topple said headstone, and Hiram Blinn had expired in 1897.  

I did not want to say anything to the three elderly ladies in the car, so I let them carry on their verbal assault:  "You're DESPICABLE!  You're disgusting!  There's no hope for the younger generation!"  

And you three are bitches...

I said nothing.  Eventually they shut up, presumably exhausted from so much mental and physical exertion, and I said, "thanks and have a nice day".  I smiled and waved.  Please note that I was on the ground, and that I had only stood on the headstone for about ten seconds.  The car was rolling away as I waved gamely, but the driver abruptly changed her mind - did she not like my royal wave? -and slammed on the brakes.  Someone opened the door behind the driver, got out of the car noisily and violently approached me, stomping away in her Tender Tootsies, and getting right up in my face.  

Whitehairfloralscarf pointed her gnarled, ancient finger right at my honker and snarled, "YOU'RE DESPICABLE AND IGNORANT!  These headstones are private property and you have no right!  NO RIGHT!  Our husbands are buried here!"  

I tried not to laugh and retorted, "if this was my father's headstone, and he is DEAD! - I would have no problem with someone standing on his headstone to take a photo of some deer and neither would he!  MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS!"

"It is my business!" (old ratchety finger shaking practically up my nose).  You are DESPICABLE!" [said for the third time].  At this point in the exchange, I had had ENOUGH.  I then saw that one of the old ladies was freaking filming me on her cell phone and I SNAPPED.

SNAPPED.

"OH! SO YOU'RE FILMING THIS?  I SUPPOSE YOU WANT ME TO GIVE YOU THE FINGER AND CALL YOU BITCHES NOW?  WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?  GRAB YOUR BASEBALL BATS AND BEAT ME UP?  POST IT ONLINE?"

I was totally livid and later Nathaniel told me that he was laughing so hard on the inside (not in the ladies' faces thank goodness), and he couldn't believe what was happening (neither could I!).  If those old, mangy bitches thought that I was going to let them insult me like that for something that I did in error and not to cause harm or infuriate anyone they were WRONG.  I chose to NOT respect my elders and treated them as my equals instead, meaning that they were about to be TOLD OFF BY THE WRONG LADY FOR THEM ON A SUNDAY.  

Whitehairfloralscarf shrieked at my sputtering face, and her asinine friends all moaned and made "I've been grievously wronged" sounds.  Then the biddy in the passenger's seat yelled, "I am going to call THE........."  

Okay lady.  Who ARE you going to call? The po-po?

She thought for a second.  "I am going to call the cemetery office!"

"Go ahead!" I screamed.  "GO!"

And they did, tearing off at 10km an hour.  

I was shaking, I was so pissed and upset.  Nathaniel laughed so hard.  He couldn't believe it.
I am so proud of him for saying nothing to the psychotic trio during the incident, but he did tell me that he didn't know what he would have done had they physically attacked me:  "Mum, I'm not sure that I could hit an old lady."  LOL.
I told him that had they attacked me that I would have kicked their sorry asses, and if I wasn't able to do so, he would have had to pull them off me.

Let me finish this disagreeable tale by apologizing to Hiram Wetherby Blinn's kin for my rudeness.  I sincerely hope that they forgive me.   It is not lost on me that "PEACE, PERFECT PEACE!" is carved in CAPS on his headstone, and that our nasty catfight took place directly in front of his final resting place.  Sorry, Hiram.  I really am.

*****

And now friends, I would like to know your take on this?  Was I in the wrong?  Should I have let the biddies insult me so rudely and apologized profusely for my thoughtlessness and ignorance?  This inquiring mind wants to know.

And don't forget to enter my contest :-)  Winner winner, squirrel dinner!

I will leave you with a picture of a wild turkey that Nathaniel spied on our ride home, which he tried to "take down" (his words):  "I'll destroy that turkey.  If I were starving I would catch it and eat it!"  Whatevs, Nath.

And because I always end my blog posts with a tune, I'll leave you with a very brief video about a blind deer.  It's not funny, but it's totally cute.

Previous post about Woodland:  Deerly Departed

Deerly Departed

Nathaniel and I were driving home from gymnastics recently and as we passed by Woodland Cemetery, we were astonished to see two deer sitting on their haunches next to the crematorium.  Can you see the deer in this picture?

Or this one:  ?

No you can't.  Because there aren't any.
Sorry for that little trick; I couldn't resist.  The next picture will be of a deer, I promise.

See?

Nathaniel was adamant that the deer were plastic statues (the same ilk as the dreaded pink flamingo).  Woodland is one of London's oldest (1879) cemeteries.   There is NO WAY that they permit people to "decorate" with plastic lawn ornaments! So I did what any mother worth her salt would do:  I slammed on my brakes, pulled a "u-eeeee" and drove back to the gates to check.

As we drove inside, Nathaniel complained:  "I don't wanna go in. I'll think of death".

The kid has a death phobia.

I said, "death is part of life.  Look how beautiful it is in here!"

I also gave him the "when I was your age..." line and told him about the countless enjoyable days that I spent roaming the Woodlawn Cemetery in Welland with my paternal Grandmother, who views the cemetery as kin of the park - both are perfectly acceptable places to bring small children.  I told Nathaniel about the pet and children's cemetery and how I liked to pore over the gravestones, reading the inscriptions and scrutinizing the porcelain photos of the dearly departed.

Silence from the back seat.

We crawled along the road toward the crematorium and sure enough, those statues were bona fide deer.  They were sitting with their legs tucked beneath them in the grass and were chewing their cud contentedly.  I was sure that they would sprint away, but they actually ignored us.  Aren't deer supposed to be skittish?  Was it beneath them to even glance in our direction?

I was amazed and awestruck as I always am in the presence of the sublime, but unbeknownst to me, the best was yet to come.

We bid adieu to the deer and prepared to leave.  You have to take a rather long and circuitous route to exit the huge cemetery and as we drove down the shady lane, I admired the many ancient headstones, statuary and grave markers - the beauty of which was lost on the 8-year-old.  I stopped the van in front of the venerable Pixley Mausoleum, which is monolithic and glorious.  Its massive door is flanked by lions, also real (heh heh), and so I HAD to stop and take a closer look:

picture by David Caloren, a librarian friend of mine (https://www.flickr.com/photos/dcaloren/5101784071)

Nathaniel refused to budge from the van:  "I'm cweeped out, Mum".  And so, I put the van in park and walked to the mausoleum ALONE (cue horror music).  I was admiring the front door, which was sadly but not surprisingly locked, when I heard Nathaniel yell:  "LOOK!"

He startled me, as I thought he was still inside the van, and so I jumped.   As I turned to see what had excited him, he was pointing directly at me. Realizing that the object of his attention was behind me, I whipped my head around and saw a buck standing less than TWENTY FEET from me!  I instinctively began backing away slowly because I didn't want it to charge me.  Don't laugh! I have been in a passenger in the front seat of a van that was twice charged by the same huge moose and it is no laughing matter. (I'll save that story for another time).

Back to the buck.  The deer did something unspeakable. It turned its back on me, so that I had an upfront and personal view of its anus, and both pissed and shat. I kid you not.  Nathaniel and I, being mature individuals, laughed like maniacs.

After finishing its business, it limped away.  It was obviously injured and we were sad for it.  Poor thing.

As we continued our drive through the cemetery, we next came upon eight deer sitting in a semicircle chewing their cud.  It was a deer party: a true stag and doe!  Again, the deer just sat there, munching away.  I think that one or two got up and deigned to look at us, but they didn't approach and neither did we.  It was a very special moment for Nathaniel and I to share.

At this point, we decided that we had to "hightail it" home to get a camera!  As we approached the Veterans' Area, we had to stop the van because there were two deer crossing the road directly in front of our van.  There were also many deer to the right and left and as I looked in my rear view mirror, I saw one standing in the road behind me.  We were surrounded!  We counted 22 deer.  Unbelievable!  I felt like we were in African Lion Safari, except it was London Deer Safari.

Should you wish to go visit the deer yourselves, I can tell you that it is miraculous to behold these beautiful creatures.  I have been three times this month between the hours of 7:30 and 8:15 in the evening and I have seen them every time.  Woodland is on Springbank Drive.

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This buck is "in velvet", so named because of the fuzzy antlers which begin to grow in May.  Bucks shed their antlers December through March.

You can see the nubbins of new antlers on this buck too:

I liked the robin sitting atop this headstone, "gazing" into the trees.  

Now go visit!  You'll love it.