Anexplorer had romance on his mind but had made a classic male college student error. A tactical error.

If the definition of stupidity is repeating actions that have always produced one result expecting this time they will lead to a different outcome, then Anexplorer had been stupid. Not that Anexplorer's stupidity had ever been in any doubt.

Anexplorer had met a beautiful girl and with the help of a full moon, a hay wagon, a chilled evening and the example of other romantic couples all around him, had been inspired to take her hand and bring her close.

Now he had asked her out on a Saturday night date and was going to be working without the full moon, or the hay ride, or the romance of other couples for inspiration. But that was not Anexplorer's tactical error.

His error was going out with the guys for a drink on the Friday night expecting he could stop at two when he would still have enough money left to pay for a Saturday night date with Linda.

He did not stop at two. Or four. And by the end of the evening, he was left with only ten dollars for the most important Saturday Night date of his life. For Anexplorer had felt strange stirrings about this particular girl and wanted desperately to show her a wonderful time.

Linda had been left with the impression they were going out to a fancy restaurant for dinner. Even in 1970, ten dollars would be laughably inadequate for that.

So Anexplorer was inspired to rethink the plans for the evening. They would go to a movie instead. Yes, that's what they would do. Linda would love it.



He showed up for the date on time, meeting her at the door of her apartment, heart pounding and terror coursing through his veins. The terror ratcheted up a notch when she appeared in a beautiful new dress, ready for the romantic dinner he had implied would be the date for the evening. She had picked up the implication from his saying, "Would you like to go out to a fancy restaurant for dinner on Saturday."

She was so beautiful his heart almost stopped, but fear kick started it back into action.

"It was thinking," he said, as they drove to the theatre, "Maybe we could go to a movie instead?"

Being a good sport, Linda's face lit up with delight, "What a wonderful idea, what are we going to see?"

"Well, I thought we'd go to the Golden Mile theatre."

"That would be nice, I used to go there when I was a little girl. What's playing?"

"The Golden Mile has lots of free parking."

"Yes it does. What movie's playing there?"

"Its a new movie. A comedy."

"I love comedies. What's it called."

Anexplorer's wriggle room had run out. "Twenty-three Skidoo."

Linda looked doubtful. "Twenty-three Skidoo?"

"I think its about those new snow mobiles. It stars Jackie Gleason. And, whoops, here we are at the theatre!"

Now back in 1968 ten dollars was still a tight stretch for two people at a movie theatre. Tickets cost $2.00 each, at a minimum popcorn and a drink cost a dollar and if they went to a restaurant for a coffee after the show, there wouldn't be much left out of a ten.

While Linda saved their seats, Anexplorer picked up the food.

Linda looked at his purchase, strangely. "I didn't know drink sizes came this small," she said. "And this bag of popcorn is really....cute."

"My pleasure," said Anexplorer.

Strangely enough, Twenty-three Skidoo proved not to be very funny. Or Romantic. Despite Jackie Gleason. And when they came out of the theatre they discovered it had snowed. And Linda was wearing open toed shoes, in expectation of a nice meal, in a fancy restaurant.

And when Anexplorer went to fetch the car, it was stuck in the snow. And, although he rocked the car back and forth to free it, nothing was working. It needed just that little extra push to get free.

He had taken so long, Linda came trudging through the snow, in her open toed shoes, to see what was keeping him. He asked if she would drive the car while he pushed; but she had never learned to drive, especially a stick shift. So...

Fueled by a rising anger at a romantic evening gone wrong if every way possible, Linda grabbed the rear bumper of the car and gave a mighty shove, the car broke free, the slippery soles of her expensive open toed shoes shot backwards and she plunged face first into the snow. In her expensive new dress.

Later, she was in no mood to go to a restaurant for a coffee. At the door of her apartment, she shook Anexplorer's hand and left the impression she was not totally pissed off by the evening.

Even Anexplorer was able to see through that.

And Anexplorer arrived back at his home without a good night kiss and with the sad lack of any expectation of a future opportunity.

But, on the bright side, he had $2.00 in change still in his pocket.

"Doctor Jung?"

"How did you get in here? You do not have ze appointment, nein?" The elderly man was struggling to get his pipe lit.

"Well I was just passing by and I saw the light was on and I have this problem, see, so..."

"Zo you thought zat nice Dr. Carl Jung won't mind my dropping in unannounced for ze appointment" the elderly psychiatrist leaned back comfortably in his chair. "You thought, zat old man, has nothing better to do with his life zan to listen to me babble about my little complexes, nein?"

"Well, I knew you'd been dead for 50 years so I thought you wouldn't be too busy to see me." Anexplorer sat down in the chair opposite.

"Zat is still no excuse for rudeness." Jung looked closely at the schedule on his desk. "But as it happens I have ze few minutes to spare. Zat is your problem, mien herr?"

"Well I write this blog over at blogstream. I kind of tell anecdotes about my life and talk about taking my dog for runs along the bluffs and..."

Jung slammed his hand on his desk top. "Vas is this babbling. You zink I haf time for zis babbling. Tell me your problem or go back where you came from!"

"Well, my problem is I have this story to tell, about the first date I went on with my wife, but it kind of casts me in a bad light."

"Zo don't tell zis story, zen." Jung looked fiercely over the top of his mustache. "It is enough that ve know the shadow side of our lives. Ve do not need to babble zem to za vorld!"

"But that's my problem, see. I want to tell the story. It's very funny."

"Ah ze anima und ze animus. Ze two sides of you are in ze battle, no?" he asked with a kinder tone to his voice. "You are battling with ze dark forces of your nature, mein herr"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far. It's just a funny story. Only people may be laughing at me, not with me when they..."

"Stop! You are ze introvert, nein? And you are struggling with ze extrovert side of your nature in writing zis blog thing, nien? You think, just because I'm dead zat I am stupid? I still know a thing or two, sir!"

"Well I..."

"You are toying with ze famous Dr. Jung and with ze readers of your blog, are you not. Zay want to hear ze rest of the story und you are giving zem zis drivel. Zis is not ze true complex you are here to discuss is it. You are here to delay ze revelation. You are building ze suspense zo people will come by tomorrow in ze even greater numbers to read your blog, is it not zo?"

"Well I ..."

Jung waved a long and intimidating finger at Anexplorer, "You are a despicable human being, an evil stunted toad. Zat is my analysis of you. Now get out of my office!"

Anexplorer ran for the door.

"Wait," Jung bellowed! "Zat vill be $100 for ze analysis. Cash. Ve don't accept credit cards in Heaven!"



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Shadow, one of the bloggers on the 'stream, is very seriously ill in hospital. Bohemian is part of the prayer link for him. If you can spare a moment for him in your thoughts and prayers I'm sure it would be appreciated.

This should really be titled, How I Almost Failed To meet My Wife Despite All Of Nature Going Out Of Its Way To Create The Perfect Moment And The Woman Being More Than Willing.

Let me confess a failing. I have been called charming; but I'm not. Charming is being entertaining for a purpose, with a goal in mind. It is a form of seduction. It is much more sophisticated state than I will ever attain.

I yearn to be charming, but I am only entertaining. The entertainment is my goal. I want people to be having the best experience possible. And if it comes across as flirtatious at times, just wait ten seconds because I'm about to say something funny that will blow any romantic mood right out of the water.

I met my wife on a hay ride under a full moon. It was our first year in college and we shared a number of classes together as did many of the others on the hay wagon.

She liked me and had even engineered to be seated next to me. I was being entertaining (see above explanation), people were in a good mood, laughing, the moon was shining down, the horses were plodding along their bells gently jingling in the back ground.

There were so many of us on the wagon that we were pressed tightly together. I could feel the warmth of her hip next to mine. Oh yes I remember that part well. Some of the boys had their arms around some of the girls. Some of the girls had rested their heads on the shoulders of some of the boys.

A full harvest moon was shining.

When the axle broke on the cart.



The farmer apologized and we all had to walk back to the farm house together for the corn roast.

There was a light chill in the air and this beautiful woman walking next to me was laughing happily. Did I mention the full moon that rode the skies overhead.

She told me that her hands were getting chilly. I, helpfully, suggested she put them in her jacket pocket.

She explained that the pockets on that jacket weren't deep enough to put her hands in. It was a dilemma and I was a dunce, and her hands were still cold.

Fortunately my wife's best friend, Elaina, was walking behind us with her boyfriend and becoming increasingly exacerbated by my obtuseness. Elaina was not what you would call a subtle woman.

She came up behind me and whispered, loudly, in my ear, "Hold her hand you idiot!"

My wife smiled at me sweetly.

The moon shone down like the light bulb of a major discovery glowing over my head.

Thus spake zarthustra, from the opening sequence of 2001 a Space Odyssey, was suddenly playing in my ears.

I stopped being entertaining and reached out and took her hand, her small cold hand, in mine. We walked the rest of the way back to the campfire and the corn roast in silence.



That night we sang songs, we laughed some more, we sat close, I put my arm around her.

And then we went our separate ways.

But the next time I saw her at college, I invited her out.

And on that date I did something so stupid she kids me about it still. But that's a story for another time.

No one likes to show themselves at their worst. To expose their dirty laundry in public.

Part of taking pride is being at your best so you can show yourself at your best. The local Community Association I help found three years ago has consistently sought out the best in our area to celebrate.

But sometimes you stumble on something that is so bad, that unless it is exposed to the light of day, nothing will get done, because no one will believe you.

That is the case with Deekshill Park, a beautiful 6 acre forest a couple of kilometers from my home, but on the edge of a Toronto Housing Authority low rental complex. It doesn't have the best reputation so its a park I seldom visit.

We had organized a community clean up last week on Earth Day. One hundred people had come out to help and 300 bags of garbage were collected from grass verges and local parks, part of a City wide spring clean up initiative.

Seeing us all out prompted a phone call from a local resident asking why we had neglected Deekshill Park which, he said, was littered with refuse.

Karl and I naively set off Saturday to clean up the 6 acre woods that form Deekshill, thinking the cleanup would be no more than a two man job.

The following two short videos are what we found and are self explanatory. Here is the Introduction:



And here is what we found--



Between us, Karl and I had picked up four large bags of garbage over a two hour period before I went home for my camera. What you saw in the video is the waste that was left over. Our local City Councilor is attending our Executive meeting the First Tuesday in May. I intend to show these videos to him then.

No, don't go looking for rounds one or two, they took place last summer before I started blogging.

It was in June I noticed our garden had become invaded by an insidious illegal alien that had crossed the border of our backyard fence and had established a small colony in the shady area at the rear of our yard.

Creeping Charlie.

YIPES!

We are in our third year now of a pesticide/herbicide ban in the City of Toronto. Our yard is now a healthier place for dogs and wee small children and dandelions and creeping charlie. The Provincial Government has just taken Toronto's ban and has extended it to the entire Province.

I'm happy about that, but I'm not happy about Charlie.

Creeping charlie (Glechoma hederacea), also known as ground ivy and creeping jenny, is a low-growing perennial weed that thrives in moist, shady areas of the lawn and garden, but will invade sunny areas, too, if the lawn is thin. The four-sided stems grow to lengths of 15-30 inches with roots forming at the nodes, where leaves join the stem. Its leaves resemble those of the common geranium, round and scalloped, but are much smaller in size. In the early spring an abundance of tiny, lavender to blue flowers appear on 2 or 3-inch spikes.



At first I tried ripping it out of the ground, but creeping charlie had more hours in the garden than I had. The little demon may only creep but he is legion! The faster I pulled the more rapidly he grew.

Then I learned about "sunblasting". With sun blasting you cover the infected area with a non porous material and leave it for a month or so. When you lift it off, everything underneath has died. You reseed and you are away.

Except you discover creeping charlie has established a new colony over here and over here and over here.

He may be short and green and cute and I may be tall and big and ugly, but its not a fair fight.

Until now.

Now I'm armed with new information and creeping charlie's days are numbered. I was reading Katie's blog at Kate's Kiln where she offered the following advice:

"The problem is, creeping charlie can have roots that are 2 feet long so you can never get the whole thing out. Overseeding works but you may have to pull everything out two or three times before you can get rid of all of it. The second way works but it is kind of an extreme method. You use Borax and make a mixture using water. If you spray it on the creeping charlie, it will kill it. The problem is with this method is that nothing but grass will grow where you spray the Borax. Borax wont damage the grass either, the active ingredient in Borax is Boron and creeping charlie is very sensitive to it, grass is not.

"If you have the time and patience, I would pull the creeping charlie and reseed right away, soon enough it should be gone !!Or else, just take five teaspoons full of 20 mule team borax and mix it in a quart of water and spray away. The quart should cover about 25 square feet and then you can say good bye to Charlie !!"

I have my borax, I have my water, I have my spray can and like Katie said, "Goodbye Charlie!"

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UPDATE

There was no immediate change in the creeping charlie after the initial application of the borax solution.

However by this morning it was obvious that it had succeeded and the infernal plant was showing clean and unmistakable signs of demise.

A couple of lessons I learned: The water needs to be at least warm to help dissolve the Borax.

Creeping charlie is a sneaky adversary and I've found more of him lurking under the grass feet away from the main infestation.

Hooray!