A Break in Routine

September 11, 2009

The Hippy appears to have stopped using the Magical Porch for its Magical Purposes. I don’t know if this is a temporary thing or what; I do, however, know that she is now very, very different. Suddenly, she’s a lot more focussed. She’s eating much fewer wine gums. And she’s also started using phrases from ‘Batman’.

“Holy Guacamole!”, she cried after banging her elbow whilst cleaning the kitchen cupboards. “Holy Tolito!”, she yelped, after stubbing her toe on the door (what is a tolito? I don’t think it’s a word). And finally, “Holy Ravioli!”, she shouted, after being startled by the, er, phone ringing. The Mushroom just looked at her.  Why has she just started using these phrases? Perhaps she has always used them, but just hasn’t so far since we’ve been here because, a) she’s been too stoned to notice much and b) she’s been too stoned to remember much, let alone phrases from ‘Batman’.

New, non-stoned Hippy is also full of new lifestyle ideas.

“I don’t think we live healthily enough”, she announces, striding purposely into the dining room, where The Mushroom and The Baby are having lunch. Both pause to look up at her, The Mushroom glancing back down at her bowl of whole grain rice and The Baby caught mid mouthful of pear.

“Really?”, queries The Mushroom.

“Baf!”, says The Baby.

“No”, replies The Hippy, “So I have decided we are all going to become Fruitarians.”

The Mushroom stares fixedly at her. ‘What the bollocks is a Fruitarian?”

The Hippy thinks for  moment. “It’s kinda like a Vegan, but, you know, man, with more, you know, fruit. I think it’s a totally amazing way to live. It’s totally natural. What do you think?”

“I think”, says The Mushroom, “That my Dad will kill, and then eat, you.”

“Oh.” The Hippy looks crestfallen, “Yeah.”

Thank the Lord. Would she have made me and That Black Dog go ‘kinda Vegan’ too? I’d have been okay, cos I’d have just gone out and hunted rodents, but That Black Dog would have eaten all the fruit and then thrown up. Repeatedly. That would only have been funny for the first day or so, then it would have gotten a bit smelly and, quite frankly, That Black Dog smells bad enough.

The Hippy’s other radical idea was to do with laundry. Laundry is a wholly human phenomenon. It is bizarre. I would understand their need to scrub their clothing if, for example, they had been digging mud all day, but what do they do that warrants it spending an hour being thumped about in a machine? Nothing. They get dressed. They get in the car. They maybe walk about outside. Why can’t they just lick it clean? It’s what I do, and look at me – shiny shiny shiny. I’ve never seen a human wear a coat as silky clean as mine. Anyhoo, at first, it sounded as if The Hippy was beginning to share my way of thinking.

“I’ve decided that we use the washing machine too much”, she said as The Mushroom was changing The Baby’s outfit after lunch.

The Mushroom looked genuinely worried. She loves washing clothes. If she could get away with it, she’d wash clothes every day. I think she believes that if clothes are left in the dirty laundry basket for longer than two hours, they start to breed germs. I’ve caught her spraying dirty laundry with anti-bacterial spray.

“So, I think we should, like, hand wash them instead. It would be, like, totally in tune with our ancestors.”

I thought The Mushroom was going to cry. At this point, Elizabeth the Church Organist appeared in the doorway.

“Whoohoo!”, she called, wobbling happily on the porch, “I have a present!”

The Mushroom, The Baby, even That Black Dog appeared to breathe a sigh of relief.

Three hours later, The Cave Troll thumps up the stairs, after having spent the afternoon playing ‘German Tanks Fire Guns At Stuff’ and moping over the fact that my Dad is in Saskatchewan and can’t play ‘German Tanks Fire Guns At Stuff’ with him. “What’s for dinner?”, he calls to The Hippy.

“Steak.”, comes the reply.

It would appear, then, that it was a temporary glitch after all.


2 Responses to “A Break in Routine”

  1. My Dad said

    hang in there ling old buddy, plenty of non fruit items in the garden!

  2. Granny Janey said

    Bay! This means Baby!
    Mw! means Mila!
    Key! means Kitty cat
    Zed = Zeeblingers on about this idyllic life he leads seemingly rather intellectual for a black cat. This must mean he’s getting ample nourishment whether of the indoor or world-at-large varieties. Since he doesn’t bother to view himself in the mirror, he seldom mentions how shiny his black fur coat is and what’s he wearing a fur coat for when we’re trying to eliminate wearing coats created from animals. Someone’s going to paint that coat sooner or later. I don’t want to be around when that day comes. Personally I prefer recycling real fur to wearing faux coats. After all those chinchillas are already dead and I’m no stranger to being the second owner.

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