You don't have to be a soccer (football) coach to give the typical response to a common question.

Commentator: Coach Patterson was is it going to take to win today?

Well Bob, it is going to take a 110% effort from every player on our club. France has a great team and we have the utmost respect for what they have accomplished. We have to take advantage of every opportunity they give us. But if we don't pressure them they will control the ball and not give us a chance to set-up offensively. We must be aggressive but not get carried away with the intensity of this game.

We have to combine or speed, ball-handling ability and positional discipline. We expect big saves from our keeper, and our big shooters have to be on target.

We have to maintain our composure because the one thing we don't want is to lose on penalty. We obviously do not want a shoot-out but we will deal with that when and if the time comes.

France plays with speed, and tries to intimidate us with it. But we plan on keeping them to the outside which should allow us quick break-outs to increase our number of scoring opportunities. It's all about hard work. We had a great practice yesterday and we are ready. And I would like to thank our fans... they have been great. It's like having a twelfth man.

Commentator: Thanks Mr. Patterson, good luck today.

Mr. Patterson: Thanks Bob. We'll be back for the semi-final!

DeaBeePea 7-6-18


I truly love beer. It has a fascinating history, and is such a simple concoction. Water, barley, hops and yeast. Sweet wort is made and is adjusted in flavour via the use of hops. There is usually a bittering hops, a flavouring hops and a finishing hops. The wort is then cooled according to the "acceptance" of the yeast. It is an almost amazing relationship that is formed between these ingredients.

What are called "adjunct" grains may be used to create varietal beers such as beer, stout and IPA's. IPA's are now very popular. These grains may be wheat, corn, rye and rice. Sometimes they are used to lighten the body. Lighter textures are also very popular today.

Gruit, herbs, or fruits may be included or used to replace hops. Fruitiness is a popular addition as well, and is a part of the Radler phenomenon.

The joy of beer drinking is that taste experience and the fun of trying a new beer. I always like to find out the ingredient mix before I try it. That way my taste buds make a "prediction" of the taste experience that is about to explode on my tongue.

Beer is also very gentle on the stomach, unless of course consumed in excess. If a night of drinking in a pub is planned I recommend a pint of beer per one and a half hours with a maximum of three.

My favourite beers tend not to be a particular style or brand but beers that have what I call perfect balance. I lean towards bitterness. Sweetness cuts into the flavour to me, and ruins the hoppy glow of beer. Caramelized malt is a popular ingredient because it adds rich flavour, a beautiful amber tone and a touch of sweetness. But when there is too much of its influence in the taste, I shy away from it.

Muskoka Craft Lager is described by the LCBO as having a medium amber colour; aromas of malty cereal, fresh grass, zesty citrus and a hint of honey; on the palate it is dry and medium bodied with moderate carbonation and flavours of cereal, wildflower honey and a light hop bitterness.

The touch of sweetness and fruitiness is something I tend to turn away from, but in this particular case, the beer is expertly brewed, and the balance between these ingredients and the hops is PERFECT.

IPA's are generally my favourite, and one of the best is Red Racer, made in British Columbia. This beer is made very hoppy. It has a beautiful golden colour and leaves lots of lacing. The citrus and floral notes work well with the roasted malt flavour. It has a long finish. Interestingly, for me it has to be ice-cold, because otherwise the sweetness overtakes the bitterness.

One of the most exciting recent finds for me has been Shevchenko 9, a remarkable Ukrainian dunkel made by Four Father's Brewing. It is a Euro-dark lager with a spectacular blend of bready malts and caramels and earthy as well as floral hops. For a dark lager it is amazingly clean and crisp and the bitterness is just right. It has four malts, Pilsener malt, which gives it the bitterness and crispness, Munich malt which adds body and colour, chocolate malt which adds colour and richness and crystal malt for effervescence. Additional Perle hops is added for bittering and Hallertauer hops really adds to the intoxicating aroma. This beer is a masterpiece!!

I am not adverse to occasionally having a more simple beer on those not summer day, perhaps with a slice of lime. Muskoka Craft Lager fills the bill, as well as Switchback from our friends at Lake of Bays. It is light but still manages to be full-bodied.

Stouts are often a unique balance of sweetness and bitterness. The best balanced in my books is NO... not Guinness but the Oatmeal Stout made by St. Ambroise.
The chocolate and coffee are nicely balanced. Lake of bays has a new one called Nightwatcher. I have not decided yet if it wins out yet, but I have observed that the Hallertau hops gives it a "lagerness"" that intrigues me. i also prefer to support micro-brewers, especially local ones.

My final statement is beware of high alcohol beers. Not because they get you drunker faster (which they tend to do if we partake vociferously) but because the balance of these beers is generally out of wack and i don't know a brewer yet who can master the art of balancing hops and malts with a high sugar content. BUT... there is one example of an absolutely incredible taste experience in a high alcohol beer and gladly for us it is made in Gravenhurst! Sawdust City makes a headsmasher by the name of The Blood of Cthulhu.
And it certainly bloodcurdling. As declared with enthusiasm by the brewer, Blood of Cthulhu is a massive Imperial Stout that weighs in at an impressive 9.5% abv. Brewed with a ridiculous amount of malt and a mixture of raspberries, cranberries, and tart cherries it bursts with flavours of rich chocolate and tart, mouth puckering fruit. It pours as black as the blood of a malevolent demigod and throws off aromas of roasted malt, chocolate, and fresh fruit. I look forward to October when it comes out again.

Both the Griffin Pub in Bracebridge and The Sawdust City Pub in Gravenhurst are wonderful places to share a beer in a great atmosphere. One quaint and cozy, the other slightly roomier with room for elbows. The Muskoka Brewery and Lake of Bays have patios, so check them out for details.


People think of sports often. But it is my feeling that their perspective is warped. Or at least has become warped. What is sport?
Sport (British English) or sports (American English) includes all forms of competitive physical activity or games which, through casual or organized participation, aim to use, maintain or improve physical ability and skills while providing enjoyment to participants, and in some cases, entertainment for spectators.
This wikipedia definition refers to competition. Is jogging not a sport? Maybe it is just an exercise. Live to learn.

When we think of sport, or sports, we often think of professional versions of it. We think of sports teams, their star performers, and special moments in history that give that particular player or team some kind of legendary status.

Pugilism in team sports is much publicized. Does this improve physical ability or skills? And if sports are to be sports, shouldn't sportsmanship be the integral element? That being the case, we can eliminate many teams, and many sports from the list, unless of course, pugilism or unsportsmanlike behavior is totally banned. A slap on the wrist does not cut it with me.

Therefore, I take the liberty to take NHL hockey off the list of "sports." It is a professionalized version of sports that has been transformed into a vehicle of entertainment and profit-making, even to the detriment of its players. And the players instead of taking a strong stand against unsportsmanlike conduct, overly-aggressive play and fighting prefer to simply demand more punitive rewards for their so-called sacrifice.

Other professional sports, though some not as blatantly bad, are still subject to the same criticism, to one degree or another.

So I remind anyone reading this essay, to remember that sports are defined by one thing. And that is a vision or experience of physical exercise that is dominated by the vigour and spirit or friendship.

When you see ten kids playing hockey on a frozen pond, a bit idyllic maybe, but very much real, that is what sport is all about. Why are they doing it? Certainly not to win, not to be paid, but to have fun and somehow feel closer to themselves and their inner spirit. And this inner spirit comes out and welcomes their friends into the same inner world. A private world that no one is allowed, except for those involved at that very moment.

That is why I get a bit angry when Ron Maclean tells us that our national identity is defined by Hockey Night in Canada. It is not. It is the cultural spirit of young kids joining to experience fellowship. It is the spirit of sport, and community that is formed. It the ability for these athletes to define their own standards and draw lines that allow them to continue performing with passion and the fairness.

My days in school were often painted with the sad faces of those who attempted success in sports but failed. They did not fail, our culture failed them. Occasionally a leader-of-men would manage the situation with remarkable dexterity and elevate the hopes and spirit of athletes who performed with their hearts, but failed bodies. These were the coaches and teachers who represented sport in its purest form. I hail those people.

I commend those who took extra effort to emphasize the importance of the liberal arts, and opened doors for so many creative people.

I thoroughly enjoyed my childhood playing ball hockey on the road with my friends. Going to the cottage, shoveling off a section of lake and playing literally all day and into the night and hoping that there would be enough starlight to continue playing. I always played hard, and yes, I loved to win. And I did enjoy my brief moment as a hero in a little league baseball game back in 1964. I so remember when laughter turned to concern when I blasted a frozen tennis ball directly into the groin of a friend. I watched him go to the ground like a freshly felled fir tree. I am also happy to say that when my competitive passion ever went one step too far, my friends let it be known that it would not be tolerated. We self-governed ourselves, based on the values that we were raised upon.

I believe that these values still exist. But in our culture they are being toyed with and twisted in many different ways. So we must be more vocal in our commitment to sportsmanship in competition and in life. a safe and fun summer of beer-tsting!! CHEERS!

Marriage Part 1

Marriage is a social institution that has had many labels over the years, such as matrimony, nuptials, union, wedlock, conjugality, rites and most accurately, shotgun. And it is a state of affairs that not only involves affairs, but can lead one into an institution. The wedding ceremony can cause conflict and friction, which in theory anyway, should prepare the new couple for marriage. But instead the extended family often becomes less extended and this can extend to relationship issues.
These relationship issues can be a lack of communication (not a lack of conversation, for this can be a blessing), non-adherence to duty (essentially a man with a man cave), too many nights out with the book club, texting frequency, staying late at the office (sure, tell me more…), bad cooking, testing out self-help theories, living in the now but forgetting about tomorrow, bringing up your embellished list of accomplishments at the dinner table, failing to realize that tough-love might work on your children but not on your spouse, the male buying his wife a dress two sizes too big, the female buying her husband shoes two sizes too small, and thinking that a vacuum cleaner is an ideal Valentine’s Day gift.
When measuring the success of a marriage, maybe we should measure it as we do life. Longevity is not as important as quality. That could have the potential of shedding on a different light on our society. Which brings to mind an argument a couple of friends of mine had. Whether it was better with the lights on or off. I realize that changes the subject. But I have a rather fluorescent viewpoint on that topic, and my fantasies, according to my wife are just a filament of my imagination. She takes a different position on that concern. As a matter of fact, in order to take an expert position she learned thoroughly every page of “The Joy of Sex”. I thought I was being an honourable husband when I memorized “Baby and Child Care”. I missed something there.
As a matter of fact, I began to see my wife in a different light. When I saw her reading “Of Human Bondage” I really started to sweat. I am not a man of literature. I am a man of the simple word. No. Maybe. Possibly.
Excuse my segue. What were we talking about? Oh, yes… women, men and their success, or lack of it, in union. I have mastered one thing, and that is to sound perfectly convincing that I am being truthful when I am lying. Sadly when I tell the truth, my wife never believes me. So far, I have had only one wife, and therefore I have only one wife to give to my country. Certainly not chivalrous.
And I am very flexible in terms of doing work, plenty of it, as long as it is not the work I am supposed to do at the time. One day I said to my wife that she reminded me of a dog. She was upset at me. I misunderstood. I tried to explain to her that I had managed to teach her fidelity, perseverance and to turn around three times before lying down. She did not laugh. Then she said that I was like a monkey. It was my turn to ask for an explanation. She had an answer. She told me that she made a monkey out of me every time she quoted me. We were now even.
If your wife wants to go to the Opera, go. I didn’t want to go. I told her that normally men die when they are stabbed. But at the opera they sing instead. She did not think that was funny.
Most of the arguments to which I am party fall somewhat short of being impressive, owing to the fact that neither I nor my opponent knows what we are talking about. I had a chat with my wife and told her there was no point in us arguing. She asked me why, and instead of the obvious answer, I tried to be witty. I told her that neither of us knew what we were talking about. She did not think that was funny.

As most of you know, marriage involves the process of raising children. Some married couples cannot have children or choose not to have them. The latter can be based on one or the others opinion of whether or not their spouse is "up to the task". Generally I would call it blind faith. And that is good, because blind faith has always been a reliable source of positive achievement for me. If you believe that, then you should find the rest of this essay illuminating.

When raising children do not argue with them. Make positive statements that do not require an answer. If you are helping your kid with a science project and all you are actually doing is screwing things up be open-minded. If for example your child gets exasperated as finally blurts, "Dad, your so dumb." do not debate your dumbness. Just make a mature comment that will permanently derail them. My favourite is "Whether or not I am dumb is not relevant, what we are dealing with here is the completion of a science project. Dumbness is totally subjective."

Getting back to the marriage relationship, have you heard of hot thoughts. Well, do not believe what cognitive therapists tell you. believe in every hot thought you have. Even if is 45 degrees below zero. I know from experience that when I am being told to take out the garbage, what I am translating in my mind as a derogatory insult is indeed just that. What my wife is REALLY saying is, "It is your job to take out the garbage, it isn't done, I shouldn't have to tell you every time, I'm sick and tired of doing it, you are such an irresponsible slob."

When this happens every Friday morning at 7 AM I give my wife a big kiss and say, "Thank you for reminding me, you are an incredible woman for putting up with such a jerk." So far it has worked every time. And it is also a very useful tool. Every time I ask my wife how to start the dishwasher, she shakes her head. So I say to her, "Well, I'm a jerk, and I'm stupid, so what do you expect." It is very similar to the "I'm sorry I can't help you today, my back is killing me," technique.
Oh, I could write a book. The Artful Dodger or 99 Ways to Use Passive Aggressive Behavior to Your Advantage.

I was going to talk about what is referred to as The Successful Marriage. Unfortunately, I have no example or context with which to frame this analysis. As a matter of fact, I don't know how to frame analysis. I've never even framed a picture. But I have been framed. That reminds me. My wife always frames me. All my wife's sentences start with Daddy, or end with Daddy.
"Ask Daddy." "Daddy did it." "Daddy's not home right now." "Daddy has the wallet, not me." "Daddy will not appreciate that." And the one I truly love is "Daddy's not the reddest apple in the basket, but he works hard."

WAR... An experiment in intellectual absurdity

War is really a battle. But who the battle is between is difficult to establish. Of course, it concerns the establishment, which has a way of establishing its position. Their position relies on stopping those below them. But they do not hurt them physically. Absolutely not. What they do is wage a war on another country, and tell those poor suckers that it is the best for them.
Some of those poor suckers fight and die. They are dying for the establishment. Proving that they will fight for almost anything. Personally, I would rather die fighting for free beer, or an annual all expenses paid trip to the French Riviera.

And don't forget that free world stuff. We must fight for the free world. Except there is one problem. There ain't no such thing. Not only is it not free, it is damned expensive. Maybe there should be a war between the establishment and all those Ph.D.'s who now work at McDonald's.

This establishment also establishes a relationship with the government that establishes a co-leadership, thus creating an eco-political-military propaganda machine. They like to spend money too. And it usually isn't theirs. They also enjoy fiscal liberties. I guess it is because they protect us from ourselves. I would take a gamble with myself if given the opportunity. Although I am against gambling. But I would gladly gambol with my friends.

These machines that rule us and fight wars are really funny because they never know when they win. Or if they won. And they make a lot of money from weapons. They use them, yes, but they sell them to other countries. Now the other countries can fight them! I guess that is what is called sportsmanship.

I guess that brings up the question about World War III. Well, I'm afraid to tell you there is no WWI or WW 2. We've been at war forever. As a matter of fact, I can't believe that I've lived through it. Of course, I've never been a soldier. And I'm also not a guerrilla. I am also not a herbivore. Although I am a primate and as a child, I was distinctly arboreal. And I always feel endangered.

I do not know why they call it guerrilla warfare. I don't believe that gorillas fight except when a group of people come to where they live and try to make a movie. And they hate New York City. So maybe it's imperialism that pisses them off. Who knows.

And so many wars are between north and south. And sometimes the north are the aggressors. I would think that the south would be the aggressors. After all, being on the bottom all the time must get tiresome.

When I read about WW2 I came across the expression "bombs away". I thought everyone was putting their bombs away. No such luck. I actually think I would make a great general. That is because I see myself as generally a decent human being. And I am smart enough to know that if I'm getting attacked, to run like hell. Being a field marshall would be cool too... kind of like being a forest ranger except you'd be in a field. Outstanding in a field. Without a shovel. No trench building for me.

When military people and politicians get together they are supposed to formulate a peace treaty. Maybe they would be better to offer each other a peace treat. Like pieces of apple pie, or in case of Russia, Kulebyaka.

Banning weapons seems logical to me, which would leave us resorting to pugilism. At least in that situation war would only last ten rounds. Imagine a government being knocked out on a technicality. Now that I think of it, that would eliminate all government. That interests me.

From a liberal vantage point, I am not currently at war with anyone, but there are a few boneheads trying to take control of the world. The lower echelon of apes appear to be taking over. Nothing against apes, except the homo sapien kind. A regression from anatomical modernity.

DeaBeePea 6-21-18

Understanding History

Part 1... 532 words.

Understanding History
I watch historical programmes on the telly, and read articles and books that range from an analysis of 1919, the process and construction of the Chicago World’s Fair of 1893, the memoirs of Sir Wilfrid Laurier, the life and times of Thomas Jefferson, the brotherhood of power relationship between Robert and John F. Kennedy and the story of the fateful lives of the Mitford sisters in England.
What do I learn from these remarkable and fascinating recollections, some based on hard study and neutral purpose, others more passionate and fictionalized with integrity?
Yes, I do learn what are perceived as facts. And they certainly help me to view history as a chain of events. But how they connect and inter-relate is mind-bending. From an analytical point of view I attempt to consider Karl Popper’s evaluation of historicism and its poverty. Do we learn from history? Surprisingly, I suggest that we do. I know you are asking, if we do, why do we have war, class division, poverty, discrimination, hatred and fear?
A large part of the answer lies in the duality of our lives. We have not learned the balance between being individuals and social animals. When we make individual decisions, we have problems with social implementation. And when we make decisions that are a part of some type of social or committee consensus, we have problems with structuring it within our emotionally based individual framework.
Woodrow Wilson knew that pacifism was right. There was no need to evaluate this conclusion. It was a part of his moral foundation. He was supported by Jane Adams and like Wilson, she could captivate people with her passionate words and principled integrity. He stuck with his plan, even when the fear of German dominance over the world was beginning to ignite fear and hostility, triggering anger and harsh words from the old “Bull-Moose”, Teddy Roosevelt.
The actual reason for Wilson declaring war on Germany was a complex tapestry and political and economic factors, but only loosely based on his ethical commitments.
The Mitford sisters in England grew up during the time when Nazism was growing in Europe. And its popularity in England in the early thirties was striking. Hitler’s right-wing socialism (if indeed there is such a thing) was a strange form of populism that gave the downtrodden German peoples a new hope. While being emotionally empowered they were being completely disenfranchised in terms of human rights.
These remarkable sisters were part of the gentry class (considered minor aristocrats), six sisters whose magical dance through history was full of intense drama, irony, absurdity, tragedy and disbelief. They were parented by the 2nd Baron Redesdale, and Sydney Bowles. Diana was a fascist, Jessica was a Communist, Unity was less easy to define but she had a passionate fascination with Hitler and became a comrade, Nancy was a somewhat isolated novelist, Deborah played the less controversial Duchess and Pamela became the rural women of sexual disorientation. It would take a book (which has been written) to evaluate this incredible story, and especially its feasibility. But it is a microcosm of history, a magical example of how and why things happen.
To be continued…
DeaBeePea 6-21-18

Understanding History part 2 (618 words)

The Mitford girls were entangled in lives which seemed to indicate that they were aware of history. They seemed to see themselves as a part of it, and they took on roles, some of which seemed to be a fine line between courageous and foolish. Were they at war with time? I think the world from 1930-1940 was at war with time. It was an apparent enemy. It was as if the 1920’s was the final party. Where to go next?

I observe the evolution of Eisenhower to Kennedy. Did it mean anything or was it simply politics? I believe it was a time of positive idealism. The fifties was a time in North America of relative conformity and economic growth that was exciting, yet in a strange way, predictable. And it was executed and propagandized as progress. Very few people in the so-called mainstream questioned the suburban attitude of life. But underneath the comfort was a simmering distrust of sameness and the conservative decision making that was considered rational. The beat generation was an indicator of not necessarily real change, but certainly perceived change.

John F. Kennedy was an intelligent man who saw this. From 1956 on, he had a plan. He would manipulate the system to grow his stature, not unethical (questionable), but shrewd. He was to be the new generation, but rich with a suit and tie. There began to be a feeling that an idealistic view of society could actually be turned into social change that involved a freer view of human rights and a new respect for youth. Kennedy made it seem possible.
In Canada, at least politically, we went from Louis St. Laurent (Uncle Louis), to John Diefenbaker to Lester B. Pearson. Pearson was also a part of the “new” liberalism, but not as charismatically. We amended the Canada Elections Act and established universal suffrage. It would be appropriate to label this period one of quiet revolution, and it was labeled as such particularly in Quebec. But it was actually unrest.
The new view was a crack in the door, and it became apparent to minorities and interest groups that they were being welcomed to protest. But when hope lands on deaf ears, a less subtle reaction follows.
The growth of the New Democratic Party in the early sixties signifies many things. Partly it was that complacency was being overtaken by a political enthusiasm that was a part of the western-Canadian culture. Ontario in particular was ready to break from its historical pattern, going a way back to the Family Compact.
I am sighting all these examples to visualize patterns in society and human behavior to see if there is any conclusion that can be drawn. I do not believe a concrete one has ever been stated, but many hypotheses have been drawn, evaluated and led to new questions.
Possibly our history is the same as that of the evolution of a child. A child is taught. Authority asserts influence and is seen as a savior. Then experimentation takes place, and the element of consequence is introduced. Rebellion or at least an individual assertion takes place, and there is hope, excitement, drama, romance and complex emotions. But there is always a balance between the desire for order and disorder.
In the case of the Mitford sisters, some of them saw the balance as a leaning towards order, in order to appease guilt and create stability, emotionally and economically. Unity and Diana Mitford preferred to lean towards disorder. A preference for disorder tends to be quelled at some point or another, as the so-called establishment (which would have to be defined in another essay) always prefers order.
End of part 2
DeaBeePea 6-21-18

Remodeled: A Short Story Part 1: 513 words

Renovations. Always an inconvenience. Lesley’s book club was to meet the following week on Monday evening. But the glassless living room windows were going to be covered in insulating plastic. The ceiling would be a display of musty old pugging. Certainly not suitable for guests. The solution was obvious. Surrender her hosting position for this time only. Sarah would be more than happy to host.
Problem. Lesley was stubborn and proud. I must hold our meeting. It is my turn and I do not want to disappoint.
An idea crossed her mind, and it seemed so absurd, that she thought for sure that it would fly away as quickly as it flew in. It didn’t. It grabbed on to her and wouldn’t let go. The place was roomy, had its own refrigerator, had lots of chairs and a large table. Old and a bit scruffy but a fresh and cheerful tablecloth would take care of that. Five years ago a new garage had been attached to the west side of the house, with a short set of steps inside, that led into the kitchen, with a small vestibule with pantry. The old garage, sat sadly to the rear, peeling its eggshell paint, and still adorned with a double hinged door of oak strapping. Certainly a teardown. It was not.
Errol knew exactly what to do. A man cave!
So it was to be. June became a man cave widow. When he was remodeled he seemed to be gone 24/7. Once completed he was more present, but was still in exile many evening and most of the weekend.
The idea of using it for book club tantalized her. Not because it would be ideal, but because it would be an invasion. The mystique of this manmade heaven would be obliterated forever.
Lesley was not sure how to approach it. The first thing that occurred to her was that she told Errol now, it would give him three days to make up a very clever reason for her not to use it. She was not going to make it that easy on him. She would tell him right after dinner on Monday.
She could just hear herself now. “Oh, by the way dear, I hope you don’t have anything planned tonight. I’m having a few friends over. We’re using the Beer School,” (a name Errol decided upon after googling the internet for man cave name ideas).
That part was clear. But what would his reaction be. There were many possibilities. She was hoping that his mind would be so preoccupied with the renovations, that we would simply say, “Fine dear, fine.”
She feared another response however. “You’re WHAT?”
After her explanation, he would add, “I’m in and out of it all the time, and I have many inappropriate uh… things, in there. I don’t want women in there. Especially your friends.” She then giggled at the implications of his words, even though they were just created by her vivid imagination. My God, it’s getting crazy already and I haven’t even talked to him yet.

Part 2 of Renovation 532 words.

The next two days went in silence, except for the regular small talk during morning’s coffee and a short conversation as they lie in bed before sleep. It was the usual discussion about the next day’s plans. Lesley was usually on target, that is she had her day planned and proceeded to follow it to a tea. Errol on a work off-day had various projects on his slate, but it was an uncertain fact as to whether or not he would apply himself.
On Sunday afternoon, Errol was making a visit to the local hardware store. It was the perfect time for Lesley to inspect the man cave. Errol was not planning to be away for long, so he did leave it unlocked. This was paramount, as Lesley had no key.
To her pleasant surprise, the cave was neat and clean. This was important because if she had to tidy up, Errol would suspect something, and her secret would be exposed. She still had to plan her preparation, however. After dinner on Monday evening will I have time to set-up the room?
She realized that she had no option. She would have to be efficient and make sure that the man cave would be open. She had never asked Errol for the key before. She often thought about that. Why shouldn’t I have a key? Would be that much of a blow to his ego for his wife to have a key as well?
Errol was going through the nail racks at the hardware and decided whether to go bulk or carefully select a specific number of two and a half inch and three and a quarter inch spirals.
Errol’s head jerked up and before him stood Emmaline Horton.
“Oh, hello Emmie, are you taking on a building project.” He did not say this as sarcastically as he had wanted.
“No, but Bob is. He sent me on an errand. He wants me to pick up these.” She showed Errol a small torn piece of paper with the nail size scribbled like a doctor’s prescription.
“MMM… I can help you with that. I believe it says 2-3/8 Inch x 0.113 inch hot dipped galvanized. I don’t believe it could be anything else, it wouldn’t be 2-3/6 and they don’t come in .118. The old process of elimination method,” he said grinning.
Errol then walked further down the aisle and grabbed a huge bucket. “4,000?” he inquired.
“Oh my God no,” she said he needed about 100. Errol grabbed a plastic bag and counted out one-hundred, and added ten more for good measure. He placed a tag on the bag and penciled in 1000827874.”
Oh, thank you Errol. You are so helpful. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow night, or maybe not,” she chuckled. I know that when the book club comes, you usually run and hide into your oasis.
“Book club?” Lesley hadn’t mentioned it. “I’m surprised she’s having you over with the living room in its current state.”
“I had forgotten Errol. You’re renovating aren’t you? I wonder what she’s planning?”
Errol responded. “No idea.”
“OK Errol, see you soon, one way or the other. Errol nodded deep in thought.

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