Welcome to Nanny's kitchen

One of my Emilys asked me once what a money back guarantee was. I explained about Simpsons-Sears' promise to its customers: "Satisfaction guaranteed or your money cheerfully refunded". Now GT Boutique (Giant Tiger) has taken over that pledge. Emily the Younger more or less took that on board, recalling the time we had to return an electric lawnmower to Canadian Tire because the battery wouldn't hold a charge.

Soon after her mastery of the concept of a money back guarantee, Emily the Younger made a sign on the computer, which she slapped on to the back of her grandmother's kitchen door. The sign read: "Welcome to Nanny's kitchen. Ask for your money back!"

I really don't think the sign had anything to do with Nanny's cooking, although the melted marshmallow topping on baked yams was a bit iffy or sketchy. And she served bananas with sprinkles on them (hundreds and thousands). And there was something with the corn flakes too.

Crispy, flaky, wakey, wakey, wakey! That's how the Brits sold Corn Flakes.

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Animals and aliens

When you think of Orwell's Animal Farm , you get stuck on the idea of some being more equal than others. But world peace, galactic harmony, the celebration of diversity and the active practice of inclusion are all achieved in science fiction by casting minorities in the role of animals and aliens. Star Trek comes to mind in this regard, where even hippies were disposed of, Federation style, as sensitive dissenting aliens, not forgetting Spock with his pointy ears! And then there were Wookiees, still man's best friend. Viewing animals as humans--anthropomorphizing--or treating different races as aliens, all of this is shape shifting. This shape is my shade, there where I used to stand--that's Steely Dan.

Of course she's not a true red

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The city mover beat me to the chicory this evening maybe if I had passed by earlier I could have caught a glimpse of them but they will rise Phoenix like from the close cropped pile of grass and weed and present their brash and uneven beauty once again before the need for carpet and trimming loops of magic made by subterranean rug weavers is once again mandated and duly executed by the city crew in the burnt orange cabs of their ride along mowers browning the backs of their hands and letting the heat weather beat their faces to match the cabs and fulfill some unspoken contract between landscaping and maintenance and the gods of Chance Fortune as ever favouring the bold there will be other routs of the mover before the Summer is done and more rain hopefully if I can contain the fear of thunderheads building and more returns of visible biodiversity Nature never surrenders unconditionally but like a lover choosing her battl...

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