However, the roof flew off the kitchen long ago..and the walls fell down shortly thereafter. So, I think the space problem has been solved. There's no wall left for the coats so they have just been piled on the ground. Any of you mind a little dirt? Of course, that would cause extra reason for them to have to be taken to the cleaners.

OK, I'll head the team to build a new coat and boot room, just on the other side of the ditch where the walls fell. Plenty of hooks and a huge corner!! Actually, it's not much of a room, just one honking big corner - Fiona

If you've been lurking, then I'm sure you're UP to speed on the boot/coat situation. A mess, even after the walls came down.

Alan's taken a sledgehammer to the boots. Had to give up on the hockey stick when it finally split in two, so now it's personal. Bob, having plunged Marlow-like into the heart of darkness that is the coat-swell, has successfully extricated Darrell from the pile, still clutching the hammer, mumbling something about "the horror, the horror." (Will take more than dry-cleaning!) You didn't happen to bring beer? Only the keg problem has not yet been solved. We'd have a go with some proper implement only someone's feelings might get hurt. Maybe after Alan's vented his frustration on the boots he might "accidentally" hit the spigot...

You did bring an umbrella, I hope. Only Séan's only gone and done it. He's actually managed to tap that keg! (Ya' gotta' admire the man's stick-to...among other things.) Of course, the sheer force of all that pent-up brew blew the spigot deep into the coat-heap, and they had to plug the hole with the only thing they had to hand: Bob's whistle. So now we've got stout spurting out and up through the holes, and it's fairly raining Guinness...which might explain why the construction crew are all running amok on the green, faces skyward, mouths wide open.

So come in then.

Best to leave your boots on for now, though. We've got a man in the corner with a sledgehammer and a score to settle. (Is it just me, or is he really cute when he's angry?)

The boots have finally given way! (Alan affects triumphant "Hammer of Thor" pose, and notices for the first time that the walls have come down). Bob, still heady from the rush of rescuing Darrell from the coat-heap, made a last-minute dive to push Séan to safety before the sudden avalanche of footwear swept up everything in its path - hearth, hob, keg, Darrell (oh dear) - and carried them out to sea. Fortunately, Darrell was able to pull himself up onto the floating roof, where he's made himself a mast from the taped-together bits of hockey stick, and raised a sail made from the Newfoundland flag (which he always carries with him, for just such an emergency).

Not that any of the others are even vaguely aware of Darrell's plight. Nope, they're watching that keg out there, bobbing on the briny, spewing Guinness hither and yon like some alcoholic Exxon Valdez.

"We should maybe get that," says Alan, the picture of innocence. "I could use a drink..."

We could use a sailor on board about now, 'cause Bob, Séan and Alan have got their eyes on that floating sprinkler-keg, and they're wading very purposefully in the direction of the roof-raft. Poor Darrell. He thought they were coming out to rescue him.

Now I know we're a long ways from Lake Michigan, but if they ever do catch up to the Guinness, who knows where they might end up. Keep an eye out for 'em will ya'?!!

Welcome to the kitchen...or what's left of it...there's still some stairs, right?

Well, if you're they're biggest fan, then *you* go out there and get them, 'cause they're starting to drift, and that roof-raft is nobody's idea of stable. Darrell just leaned over the starboard side to rinse the boot-slime off his glassess and WHOOSH!! The roof listed, the port-side shot skyward and sent Séan soaring over Darrell's head and right into the drink. It would have been a complete disaster had Bob not thrown his whole bodyweight against the raised end, thus settling the craft. Now he and Darrell are stuck at opposite corners, Alan's huddled in the middle, afraid to even move, and Séan's clinging to what he thought was a piece of driftwood (but is, in fact, someone's petrified drover coat) and the keg is bobbing steadily out of sight...

I'd say "Come in," only there isn't much "in" around here, not until we get those walls back up. You wouldn't happen to be an architect? Heck, if you've ever successfully built a Lego house, you're well up on anybody here.

Now, if it's beer you're wanting, well...we're working on it. Or, rather, they're working on it. Séan appears to have been hauled aboard the roof-raft again (Bob balanced, Darrell pulled, Alan stayed out of trouble). And, bless 'em, they seem to have a pontoon-thing going with the petrified coats (tied 'em on with bootlaces!). There may be hope yet! You can just make out the keg there, on the horizon. 'Course, there's not one of 'em wearing a hat out there...

So, care to make yours the inaugural pair in the new boot pile?

Pile your boots on top of Josephine's there - we're starting a new pile. Just try to "visualise" the corner. Coats are best hung on the nearest tree right now.

Now, don't feel obliged to contribute (you've only just arrived, and it is your birthday), but we're sending the hat 'round again. Time for a beer run, I'm afraid. The keg was last seen rounding Mistaken Point, like a tiny whale with a Guinness blow-hole. The boys are gaining fast, mind, now that Bob's figured out how to steer the roof-raft (he mostly yells "Lean!!" from time to time). Darrell and Séan are plucking boots out of the water, and Alan is weaving the laces into a fine-looking net there: his idea, and he's proud of it, but if he makes one more "Kon-Tiki" reference, he may yet find himself in the drink. Still, we're not holding our breath.

Oh, we're collecting for the Canadian Tire run, too. We need drill bits. And sunscreen. And maybe a coat-rack.

(I can hear her now; "Again with the Canadian Tire," says Teddy. "Last time it was the espresso maker, now it's drill bits and sunscreen. Do they actually sell tires at this mythical place?")...

"Actually," says Teddy, "rubber money????"......

Wendy:- Since you have the blueprints for the new corner, I thought you'd be the person to ask how it's coming. Have the workers sobered up enough to continue? I think when things got hairy, I must have turned and bolted the other way. I feel mildly out of the loop now that I'm back. (does not mean that I haven't been reading the story.) - Fiona

Hey Fiona, blueprints are ruined, you know that keg that sprung a leak..... so more delays!! BTW, *2* truck loads of coat hooks arrived today ;) -Wendy

Two truckloads? Well, so much for re-using the old walls. We're gonna' need something much bigger.

Alright, then, where's the hat? Looks like somebody's off to Beaver Lumber. - Hap

Are you guys only taking monetary donations, or can i donate my old station wagon and time to go and pick stuff up?? :) anyone wanna caravan? we're gonna need a LOT of lumber... :) - Spinne

Oh man!!! Isn't the construction crew plastered enough already? ;) They don't need to be drinking out of straws. ;)

...I'm not really holding out much hope for there being anything but dregs left in the keg when the boys bring 'er home. ("When," she says. How's that for optimism?)

Canadian tire money always welcome, though. Is the hat coming back this way? Or is Spinne still trying to fit her station wagon into it?

Need a bigger hat. - Hap

"Oh, I get it - Green Shield Stamps!" says Teddy.

So we need hatstands now, too??? Is that for us wallflowers to dance with?

I'd bet on only salt water in the keg, after all, what lets OUT the booze can let the briny IN. And the b'ys have to fuel their exertions somehow. I can just see them now, Séan beating out time on a rather soggy bodhrán while Darrell and Alan paddle like mad. Bob, having misjudged the wind, is flapping off the back of the roof-raft like an, erm, seagull........

And which bay would you be from, pray tell?

'Cause if it's Placentia, you might want to have an eye out for wobbly little raft with a Newfoundland flag/sail, chasing what looks like a keg and is, in fact...well, a keg. You might even want to consider floating 'em a tub of lemonade (heck, even Kool-Aid), maybe a torch and some matches, or even a lantern if there's one going spare.

Last heard, they were singing "Jack Was Every Inch A Sailor," so spirits are high, but still. We do worry. We're considering a hat and sunscreen airdrop in the morning. That'll take a chunk out of the beer funds, mind, but some things are more important. Besides, if the work crew doesn't sober up, the boys won't have a kitchen to bring the keg home to...

Nice of you to introduce yourself, all the same. With everything that‘s been going on lately -- new CD, new tour, new kitchen -- it’s been really hard keeping track of all the comings and goings, to say nothing of the roof-raft.

Quite the shock, I tell ya’. The workers sober up and, Bob’s yer uncle, we’ve got ourselves that honking big kitchen we’ve always wanted. ‘Course, we’re not quite used to the new digs yet, and nobody can quite remember where we’ve put everything. We still haven’t figured out where Jane put the bottle opener, and she’s gone for the summer now, so it’s twist-off caps ‘til somebody does some serious drawer-digging.

Oh, and it’s domestic beer only. We blew a big chunk of the beer fund on that hat and sunscreen air-drop for the b’ys. Better late than never, I suppose. (Is it just me, or does it hurt just looking at Alan right now? Ouch!)

They sailed through St. Pierre and Miquelon without a hitch, by the way, even without their passports. Good thing they’ve been brushing up on their French, oui?

As for the keg, it was last seen bobbing and spurting its way past Penguin Island, a flock of hammered seagulls swooping drunkenly behind it..ourselves that honking big kitchen we’ve always wanted.

Come on in - the door's wide open - or would be if anyone could hang the thing. No-one remembered to buy hinges.......

Well, I'm heading off to the mall tomorrow to pick up my Stardust ticket, so I'll get some hinges. How many and how big? Oh heck! I'll just buy out the store. To whom to I give the receipt to get reimbusrement? Do we even *have* a treasurer?

Hey, I've got a fortune in Canadian Tire Money - I'll pick up some coat hooks on the way past the store tomorrow, if it's easier. And, for those who don't remember, we have Mari-Mac, who's in charge of fun-raising and petty harbour cash....

Coat hooks? HINGES, not coat hooks! The coat hooks got sorted already! My god, you just can't get the construction workers these days.........

There went YOUR payrise, my girl! ;o)

Problem. The supplier of the vehicle that was going to be used to go pick up the hinges decided that he would take it to go play golf today. (sheesh. fathers.) So, either we have to wait until Thursday for the hinges or I attempt to take a truckload of hinges on the bus with me. (plus my Stardust ticket, a free cd, and some clothes). Think I can do it?

hey, i've offered before, so i'll offer again: you can have my old station wagon, Phil Sherman. :) i'm sure he'll be able to manage a truckload of hinges ("hinges... hinges..."), and maybe even a few other things like more lumber. just how many doors are we planning on that we need a whole truckload, anyway? :)

Welcome to our little...okay...huge kitchen here!!! We're in the process of remodeling the virtual kitchen though. Speaking of which, we shall have hinges for the doors tomorrow! yippee!!!

BTW - this rebuild thing? Who's got the power tools? I'm a modern woman, I am! I want BIG STUFF! (unhinged already thank you very much).

You were asking about who's got the power tools...I might be able to help. My family lives by that whole "More Power" thing.

Bring 'em on, then! The "little shanty by the sea" motif was fine for a spell, but I say "All mod cons!" this time out.

Oh, and I think we’d best seriously reconsider our sentimental attachment to the old roof, 'cause we’ve got some "weather" coming and who knows when the boys’ll be back with it. Besides, it’s getting pretty water-logged. And it’s been sailing pretty close to those inebriated seagulls. I mean, you know what seagulls are like (just ask Tina), and with Alan sat in the middle like that, red as any bulls-eye, well...let’s just say it’s a good thing the Guinness has done nothing for their aim. Still, the roof, though...

Sneakin' a peek in the medicine cabinet, were you?

Fiona tells me she's got us well-stocked in hinges now, so the doors oughta' be up before we're into jacket season. Don't ask me where we areon the coat-hook front, though. I'm still trying to find that bottle opener. (Oh, but we have two - count 'em, two - cherry pitters.)

The roof is still adrift, although I'm pleased to report the bootlace-net is finally complete. Well, it's as complete as it's gonna' get anyway, since they seem to have run out of floating boots, and Alan is not giving up those Habs laces of his. It was hard enough losing that hockey stick to the cause...(Hap)

Ooh, another lurker. Find anything interesting in the medicine cabinet? Last time I checked, it was just mouthwash and "Barney" Band-Aids (Spinne swears they were on sale, I'm not sure if we're buying that yet).

The boys seem to have things well under control, keg-wise. The gulls have slowed it down considerably, and if Darrell and Séan can keep up the paddling just a little while longer - Darrell, weary of looking at the world through boot-slimed glasses, decided the whole "leaning" strategy was more than past it - they should have it within net range very soon indeed. Bob’s been taking a few practice throws, snagged himself a tire, a couple of fish (which he threw back), a rubber duck and a turkey baster (set adrift when the boots came down, we think) and a rather disoriented snail (strange, that one). Alan, no longer pre-occupied with his net weaving, and sick of the mess the gulls have been making of the roof-raft, has been fighting back. He’s been squirting the little buggers with the SPF-40 whenever they come within firing range. A raging success, so far...

Listen, you. they were on sale, and they serve multiple purposes, ok? the purchase of the Barney Band-Aids is completely justified. people don't want to look silly wearing them, so they're very careful about not injuring themselves in the Kitchen, right? hence, not only do we have something to use in case someone DOES get hurt, we have a built-in prevention sort of thing, as well.(Spinne)

You are forgetting some of the variables Spinne (pronounced: Blasted-Barney-Lover ; )....

The kitchen partiers continue to renovate & expand at an alarming rate including one complete wash-out Sunday in Guelph where the new back deck had been extended to the shoreline at Guleph Lake (who's idea was it to put gravel in, instead of sand?? *ouch* ahh * ouch * ooh *) Anyway, obviously plans to include UMBRELLAS on the deck ran amuck and when it all came down monsoon-style, Barney's-band-aids just didn't hold up!

Until we get this umbrella thing worked out, I think we better order a couple dozen boxes for the medicine cabinet ... I'm not even sure where my band-aided blisters came from, was I wearing someone else's shoes, was I even wearing shoes when I got here? Who can remember!

I'll support your claim to petty harbour cash for more band-aids (even the more-expensive-Barney-free-and-not-on-sale waterproof kind), but if the number of injuries skyrockets while construction continues... well, let's just say it ain't Barney's fault. :)

Oh, so we're defending the purple one now, are we? Ooh, drat, I've got that insidious song running through my head now. No one to blame but myself...no, wait a minute, I didn't buy the blasted bandages...;)

Ye Gods, how many umbrellas are we gonna' need then? 'Cause we just blew a wad of Canadian Tire money on door hinges and a shiny new bottle opener. Are we trying to cover the deck here, or just provide each partier with an umbrella? Um...that might not be such a bad idea, considering we haven't got the roof on yet.

Well, between the hockey stick, the sledgehammer, the avalanche, the water and the fact that every last lace has been pilfered anyway, it's hardly worth worrying about your shoes anymore. I suppose a Payless pilgrimage is in order, before autumn sets in. Geez, more expenses...

We have a keg! We have a keg!

Uh...er...well...(ahem) we had a keg. Oh, it was a beautiful sight. First light over Cabot Strait, with Séan and Darrell paddling furiously, Alan finally coaxed from the safety of centre-raft to balance the stern, the airborne net flung open against the sky like God’s own dressing gown, and our Bob snagged that infernal keg on the first try. They hauled it in to Port-aux-Basques and danced triumphantly, if clumsily, on the shore. And then it hit them: the exhaustion, the hunger, the bootslime, the sunburn, the rust on the whistle, the gull mess on the roof. Is it any wonder they smashed that keg on the nearest rock, and are smiling now as they sleep?

They’d better hope that whistle still works, though. Without the keg, there’s no deposit money. They’re gonna’ have to do some serious busking if they’re going to afford the bus ride back to the kitchen...unless we can fit Fran’s bike with the mother of all side-cars. Sigh...better send the hat ‘round again...

Oh, now you're lost! Once you're hooked, there's no way out, my girl! Come in, pull up a chair - er, cushion - no cushions left? Just sit on someone's lap, I'm sure they won't mind! There's WAY more than 30 people in this kitchen. What they're doing here when there's walls to be plastered and beams to be laid, I don't know.....

Meanwhile the b'ys are making a desultory attempt at soliciting loonies from feathered life-forms, stranded on the shore at Port-aux-Basques. "Seagulls in her eyes" is on it's fourth encore - hey, it's hard to play anything else with those little beady eyes and sharp beaks pointed at you!

If you're uncomfortable with the lap idea, the lumber from the old kitchen is being fashioned into Muskoka chairs as we speak. In the meantime, those stairs are still around somewhere. (I think Fiona dragged 'em down to the beach.)

As for the seagulls, well...you know what they're like when they're hung-over. It's a good thing they're too legless to even remember how they ended up covered with sunscreen. (Whew!) I wouldn't count on them coughing up too many loonies, in any event. They're still bitter about being looked over as the bird-of-choice for the one-dollar coin. It's nickels only for those birds, and that doesn't add up to a whole lotta' bus fare.

I see a looooong walk on the horizon...(Hap)

Yah, I dragged the stairs to the beach. I'll go get them. While we were waiting for a new partying area to be built, I thought they'd make a great diving or jumping platform. So, I've been jumping in the water ever since. But, we're back to our partying, so I might as well go get them back.

Anyone care to give me a hand? or at least push the big rocks out of the way so that I don't have to drag the stairs over them? Kat!!!!! Get away from me with that camera! You are *not* taking a picture of me dragging a set of stairs from the beach up to the kitchen!!!! (Fiona)

Glad you've popped your head in here. Stick around. It's a wacky world in this kitchen.

Let's see how far we get....(F leads people near her spot on the counter beside the fridge in a rousing rendition....)

'Johnny MacEldoo and McGee and me and couple or two or three went on a spree one day. We had a drop or two, which we knew how to blew, the beer and whiskey flew and we all felt gay. We visited McGann's, MacEloman's, Salty Dan's. We then went into Swann's our stomach's for to pack. We ordered out the feed which, indeed, we did need. We finished it with speed but we still felt slack. Johnny MacEldoo turned red, white and blue as a plate of Irish stew he soon put out of sight. He shouted out encore with a roar for some more, that he never felt before such a keen appetite. He ordered eggs and ham, bread and jam, what a cram. But, him we couldn't ram though we tried our level best. Everything we bought, cold or hot, mattered not. It went down him like a shot, but he still stood the test. He ordered tripe and lard by the yard we were scarred. We thought it would go hard when the waiter brought the bill. We told him to give o'er, but he swore he could lower twice as much again and more before he had his fill.....uh.....take it away Jen.!!!!!!!'

Where am I? In virtual geography, I'm just about to measure the windows. We've done some, er, "renovating" in the kitchen lately and it's high time we did something about curtains. Not a lot of chairs left, and I think Isabelle grabbed the last cushion, but Fiona's dragging the steps back up from the beach, so you'll have a place to sit soon.

Beer's in the cooler (we've sworn off kegs!!), food's coming round again (hope ya' like Greek, we were just in the mood) and the music...er...well, the boys usually get us started, but since they're a bit, uh, out of earshot, we'll just have to entertain ourselves until they haul themselves up off the shore and head for home.

Wanna' get us started?

In actual geography, I'm here in Toronto too!!!! In virtual geography, I'm that person sitting on the counter beside the fridge trying to lead the people around her in a rousing redition of Johnny MacEldoo, with Jen. of course. The song tends to fade away to nothing a little over halfway through every time because none of us can remember the words. But, we do persist. However, at the moment, I'm down on the beach contemplating how the devil to get those damn stairs around that huge log. I swear it wasn't there before.

Welcome to our wonderful family here. I've given up on trying to lead people in Johnny MacEldoo. We keep getting stuck at the same spot over and over again.

Um....the seats are all taken....so are all the couch cushions, we might be able to squeeze one more on the counter..or there's the window sill, which might a good choice, considering the heat of summer and the lack of air conditioning in this kitchen. silly me picked the spot beside the hot part of the fridge, but i occasionally open it up and stick my head in to cool off.

Looks like we were thinking the same thing! Maybe we should give up on adding curtains (I'm not sure who suggested that) and make a bigger room and some comfy floor cushions. Just a thought.

We can't really make a bigger room. We just rebuilt *this* one!!! (Fiona)

Forget about the cushions! Just redo the floors and make that a huge cushion :-) So then, there would be not spare space, and if someone happens to fall, he won't have to worry about the fall ;-)

Oh, I love that idea! But then, I take any opportunity to get a turn on those giant bouncy castles.....

God only knows where the band have got to, or whether they've earned enough for the bus fare back, but there will definitely be a surprise in store when they get home. We have walls, and a raisable roof (just for their next performance ;o)), we have some chairs, cushions and plenty laps to sit on, a whopping great floor for the dancing - hey, Fiona, did you manage to get the old stairs back in yet? Bring that log, too, we need all the bum room we can get. Oh, yeah, we got coat hooks a-plenty, but it seems like the boots need a shed all their own ;o)

Well, I managed to "circumnavigate" the log, now I'm waiting for help getting the stairs up onto the porch and through the door. I can push all by myself, but I can't lift. This is taking so long because I keep leaving to go back and sit on the counter and sing with people. Okay, I'll leave the lifting of the stairs to you guys, while I go and drag that log up here.

That new corner we had built on the other side of the ditch isn't big enough?

*Fiona yanks on log while singing 'In South Australia I was born, heave away haul away. In South Australia, round Cape Horn, we're bound for South Australia...*

Whoa! Turn my back on the Kitchen for one minute...okay, several days, but still. A cushioned floor? Well, as long as someone else is prepared to clean it. You know those contractors never wipe their boots before they come in lookin' for their next pint.

Please note the superlative job Tina's doing on the deck extension. Red Chinese lanterns all the way to Guelph Lake. I bet you can see it from space.

Ahem, yes...the boys. Don't hold your breath waiting for them. Skinflint gulls notwithstanding, they did rather well with their initial busking efforts. Well, once they'd nipped into the ferry terminal for a quick shower. Thing is, they promptly spent the entire first day's earnings between the pub (seconds all around on the chicken hotpot) and the laundromat. Next it'll be toothpaste and shaving razors, and then they'll be wanting new boots, I suppose...Really, it could be a while...

Er, Fiona? I think we're gonna' have to widen that door.

*Back in the windowsill, minding the plants*

Plenty o' shiny new coathooks, and the boot-pile remains uncharacteristically manageable (oh, but just wait till summer's over). We've decided the stairs are best left outside. It was either that or raise the roof, and we're not doing that again (if we can help it). So, it's back to the beach for them (they did make a nice diving platform, Fi), although that log, when dry, will make a lovely seat...

Welcome to our humble kitchen - humble only till we run out of beer money and start with the decorating again...although I shudder to think what the results might be. Paint fumes and a warm Guinness glow: should produce some, er, interesting results.

It’s a seat grab this weekend, I tell ya’! With the chatters all flung out on grassy plains from Summerside to St. John’s it’s empty seats galore - so take your pick! We’ve slapped a last coat of wood-stain on the new deck, and should be ready to set the new Muskoka chairs out in the morning; the new curtains are up; a few of our number worked off their I’m-not-at-the-Picnic frustration by beating the rugs - which, er, explains cloud of dust over the harbour, by my oh my our rugs are clean - while others busied themselves putting up our new cupboards. (Yes, that’s real cherry wood.) We’re about ready to raise a pint or twelve now, I tell ya’.

As for the lads, well, I must say, there’s nothing like the weekend for a busker in Port aux Basques. Cars lined up a hundred deep at the ferry terminal, give or take minivan. All those Americon tourists eager to quit themselves of that curious Canadian coinage! Oh, that rusty whistle was as good as a golden harp today! Mind you, if they never sing “I’se The B’y” again, it’ll be too soon. But their whistle and voice rendition of “Galway Races” was strangely stirring; and when Séan sang “Alice Blue Gown” for that golden anniversary couple from Cranbrook, there was nary a dry eye in the port. They’d earned their boot money by lunch time, and had bus fare to spare come three o’clock. That is, uh, if they’d taken the bus.

C’mon, with four strapping young men in new boots with the open road before them, what else did you expect? “We’re taking the scenic route, boys.”

*drags in an inflatable chair, kicks off her shoes and chucks them to the top of the pile, which is higher than her, pads to the kitchen and starts blowing up the chair* *pauses for breath and gasps:* Thanks!

I'll show up with a pasta salad (in a 10 pound tub) and kegs of guiness piled high in the back of my convertible. P.S. the convertible makes wheezing sounds when you load it up with stuff or people. Just part of it's charm I guess. After the car's unloaded we can all take turns driving around the kitchen in the convertible, wearing nun's costumes. LOL.

Oh, that's gonna be great ;o) .... a bright red VW flop-top, full of nuns in underwear, wheezing and groaning its way around the kitchen - people are gonna start talking, you know!

Listen, you, we've sworn off kegs!! After what happened with the last one, do you think we're gonna'...er...did you say it was Guinness is those kegs of yours?

Well.

No tippers and no whistles, all right?? Nuns in knickers are fine, though.

Will need more than few Hail Marys to fix this one,

Welcome to the Chat! I'd offer you a lift to the biggest party in town, only Fred and his bright red, eye-hurting VW beetle are off trying on nuns costumes right now. We hope it's not going to become a habit *groan*....

Look out for him going past - not that you'll be able to miss him - and bring your own camp chair, 'cause otherwise you'll have to choose a lap to sit on.

The band aren't here yet, but as soon as Fred's - erm - decently dressed, we'll send him out on a pickup run.

Lurkers are always welcome, nothing in our medicine cabinet we can’t blame on Spinne. She’s off to the Guster yard sale this weekend under strict orders to find us a couch, maybe a cheesy lamp or two - and I believe she’s got her eye on that toaster.

That leaves her spot on the counter vacant, if you think you might stay awhile (please do). Or we’ve got some lovely inflatables now, and we are all greatly appreciative of the noble kitchen partiers who lost consciousness in their efforts to blow them up sans pump. Cheers!!

It’s make-your-own-music for the time being. The boys set out on foot from Port aux Basques, geez, a couple of days ago now, but it was awfully slow going at first. Sunburnt feet in new boots, y’see. They finally caved and resorted to Darrell’s Grandma’s Secret Sunburn Remedy: vinegar. Ya’ shoulda’ seen the looks they got in that chip shop when they staggered in and ordered up four breakfast specials and vinegar, “Lots of vinegar. Ya’ got it in those little packets? Give us a dozen. No, better make it two dozen.”

They’re moving at a much quicker pace now, although the seagulls do seem to be trailing them again, for some strange reason...

Just discovered us, eh? Well, I suppose that's a relief. We raise such a marvelous din in here sometimes - and sometimes a not-so-marvelous din, like when that inflatable sofa went *POP!* - we fear we're keeping all of Virtual Newfoundland awake at night. It's nice to know people still just "come looking."

Glad ya' found us! So come on in, pull up a seat (er, I'd watch the inflatables, though), make yourself at home! Lord knows we have!

(Those aren't the breakfast dishes still in the sink, are they?)

WELCOME TO THE KITCHEN!!

*Stuck with the washing up again*

Suddenly I'm REALLY glad that I decided to stick to the log (a little firm, maybe I'll bring in a little cushion for it)!

Always glad to see another new victim...erm... Fan. Welcome to the Kitchen (ever get the feeling you're typing that a lot lately?)

Feeling a little like a parrot (Squawk!)

Oh dear, will ya' look at me, flinging the questions at you without offering you a seat, or a drink. We've given up on kegs, but we've got a fridge full of Guinness, in cans, "with new floating widget," whatever the heck that means. And I don't know what kind of rumours you've been hearing about nun costumes and, er, inopportunely placed undergarments, but I'm denying all of it. ;)

*In the windowsill, counting the stars,*

Welcome to the Kitchen! Pull up a chair (or whatever happens to be left. I can personally attest to the fact that the log isn't as uncomfortable as it may seem. Might want a cushion though).

Welcome to our little Virtual corner of Reality - you can tell it's ours, it's got boots piled up to head height! Hang your jacket on the nearest coat-hook (we ran out of doors long since), and get comfortable. Though I think we've run out of chairs, sills, sideboards and laps, you can always prop yourself against the wall. Mich is right, the log isn't so bad either.

The 'entertainment' will be back any minute, meanwhile pop yourself a can of Guinness - er - Coke, and settle down to watch Fred figuring out how to put a wimple on. Sorry, it's the best we can do for a floorshow ;o)

Er, emphasis on "any" there, as in "any" minute between now and Christmas, if we're lucky. Ever watched a distracted kid dawdling on his way home from school? Picture four of 'em on the road, in a "Consequence Free" kind of mood, the air still warm, the skies inviting, new boots squeaking, I swear, with delight. Our "entertainment" is in no hurry. In fact, they just hitched a ride to Port-au-Port...or, rather, they were ambling along happily enough, Bob was struck by a passing whim, and suddenly that thumb was just out there. Now that's executive decision making. 'Course now they're wishing their French extended beyond "we will play on the water's edge" and "I think I hear my mother calling."

Umm...not sure what to make of the wimple predicament. He just had to go for that Flying Nun model, didn't he?

It's okay, there's a huge deck out back just full of normal people, I swear!

hiya! glad to have you here. after you've fixed yourself a snack, find a place in which you're comfortable. just be careful doing so; there are quite a few people sitting on the floor, and getting stepped on is never fun. ;) of course, we do have those Barney Band-Aids in the medicine cabinet if the need arises... not that i would know anything about them. 0:)

Where'd ya' put the friggin' bottle opener?!! I've turned this blasted kitchen upside down trying to find the blasted thing - finally gave up and bought a new one, but it doesn't have the same nice handle with the molded finger grips. Sigh...

And what's up with the two cherry pitters? This is the last time we let you organise the cupboards and then abandon us for two months.

Oh, yeah:

WELCOME BACK!!!

Geez, but we've missed. Here, you can have my spot in the windowsill, let me wrestle with the inflatable thingies. Which reminds me: Where'd ya' stash the foot pump? We had to blow these up using lung power alone. Let the air out of these things and the Guinness fumes'll knock ya' flat. :)

You may want to put in a request to Petty Harbour Cash for a new coffe maker, though. After you left us, we left the last pot sitting for, oh, what was it? A week or so? We have not yet been able to bore through the sludge to the bottom of the pot. We've been drinking instant, and it's just not the same. It does weird things to the Bailey's. :(

Easily solved - I have my trusty pump ready - just finished blowing up my couch (not litterally) so now we can get a bit more space - I have a few inflatable 'feather pillows' as well in pink and blue, you know, brighten the place up a bit!

In an effort to feel useful, i went out and bought a nice double-boiler. in the process of cooking up some chocolate-covered pretzels right now; there's one plate of white-chocolate-and-sprinkles on the counter - go and help yourself to them... will be a lil while before the milk and dark chocolate ones are done. :)

Ohh, you are my savior - I"ll wait eager for the dark chocolate ones - you said the magic word! :)

A pump! God bless you, girl!

: Promise you'll be careful, though? We got a bit carried away inflating the last couch and, well...let's just say we woke the neighbours, okay? (Still trying to extricate cat from ceiling tiles.)

You have my seat temporarily in this kitchen, I'm going up to a friend's cottage for the weekend, but I'll want the seat back on Monday, k? ;)

You had a seat and didn't tell me about it??? Not that I want one, I'm just ok by the door, a little breeze keeps coming in. Terrible day at work, the temperature in the arena was something close to 30C. 9000 people and no air conditionning, no windows, no air. Suffocating. Glad to be back here. Are the walls back up? Because as wonderful as it seems right now, winter keeps getting closer.

Anyone want a piece of that apple pie I baked?

What's with the warning about us all sounding a little crazy? I believe the warning should be "they are a little crazy, and darn proud of it!" 8)

Welcome to the Kitchen. Come on in and I'd take Fiona up on that offer of a seat while you still can because seating space is at a bare minimum and when winter hits and everyone comes in off the deck, phew! It's gonna be mighty packed! (You may want to leave your sanity home!)

Trust me not to check in when we have a VIP present! Welcome to the kitchen, pull up an inflatable chair (you might wanna avoid the one with sticky Barney plasters all over it), and get ready for a good time :o)

Don't know if Fred showed you 'round the place before he shipped out, but what you see is pretty much what you get. We've been renovating, so while it may look a bit primitive, trust me: It's "rustic modern" in here. In other words, the pot-bellied stove is electric, and the copper kettle is just for show.

Let's see: The powder room is to your left. That's where you'll find what Fred has lovingly (we hope) dubbed the Estrogen Brigade. (Enter at your own risk!) Fran's got a slide show going on in the basement, Jane's just putting on another pot of coffee, the fridge is stocked with Guinness and there's food pretty much everywhere.

I think Fred's seat is still free, and what's his is yours, right? So make yourself comfortable! If it's fresh air you want, just grab a jacket off the back of the door (really, no one minds) and step out onto the deck. It stretches all the way to Guelph Lake! We used to have patio lanterns, but too many light aircraft were mistaking it for a landing strip, so we hadda' take 'em down.

Now, as for the boys...Man oh man, we left 'em stranded in Port-au-Port so long now they were starting to look at real estate. Darrell even bought a house-plant for their room at the inn, and Bob started sending out change of address cards last week.

And then Séan stepped out of the inn one morning, still stretching himself awake, and walked smack into a stray Volkswagen without even seeing it and pitched, yawn first, into the cappuchino stain on the front seat.

Alan thought he was dreaming.

"What the heck is that?"

"Narratorial interference, I'd say," said Séan, pulling his legs into the car...and the keys out of the ignition.

"Funny. Looks just like a Beetle to me." :)

so! don't hesitate at the door, it's starting to get cold out there. come in, pull up a chair by the fire, and stay a while. according to hap, there's guinness on ice in the bathtub if you like, and timbits in the laundry hamper. (please don't ask, i really don't know whose bright idea that was.) there are also chocolate covered pretzels in the fridge, just give them a few more minutes to cool and they'll be ready.

We're still waiting on Jane and the coffee, but the bathtub's full of ice and Guiness, and the laundry hamper's full of Timbits. Now, start working on those titles ladies, or you may find yourself in charge of getting the hair clogs out of the drains (oh yeah - don't use the sink).

"Timbits in the laundry hamper? weren't we keeping the coats in there over the summer while they were waiting to be washed? oh dear... :)"

"We dropped the surviving coats down the laundry chute under the sink. Someday, when we figure out where that chute actually leads to, the coats may be collected and laundered - although I doubt Darrell would lose any sleep if the beastly things were never heard from again....."

"The laundry chute under the sink... laundry chute under the sink. i don't remember that being installed, but i did some poking around the rest of the house. apparently, it comes out - *gasp!* - by the washer/dryer set in the basement! :) when were THOSE installed?! :) what's next, a garbage disposal? pretty soon, we'll have a whole house instead of just a kitchen, deck, and basement! ;)"

I'm going to start a pool to buy Bob a new whistle to replace the one that was ruined in the first catastrophe. Now, let's just hope that he didn't use his low D, cause it'll take a while to get the cash to replace that one. Passing the collection hat to Astrid.....

Séan may have the keys - and the registration, funnily enough - but he hasn't got the vaunted "Beetle Driving Instructions," and was causing them some problems, initially.

He'd pump that gas pedal once, and then twice...and then get frustrated and pump it four times (but four is too many)...and the constant ribbing from Alan was not helping the situation.

"Haven't you got that thing started yet?"

"I seem to recall it was your over-enthusiasm with the sledgehammer that got us stranded out here in the first place."

That sort of thing.

Still, Alan was good enough to start the search for the operating instructions ("Guy falls face first into a deus ex machina and he wants an Owner's Manual...grumble, grumble..."). Darrell searched the back and found the snake bite kit and Ordinance Survey, and it was just as Bob was pulling the wimple and thong out from under the front seat - and wondering if they were better off on shank's mare - Séan pumped that gas pedal the requisite three times, and they were off!!

(And Fiona, it wasn't the low D whistle. We'll still have money for beer.)

When last we left the Eternal Kitchen Party, the timbits were breeding happily and Jane had just freshened the coffee all around. Though the facilities have backed up all too often of late, sending both water and PWAOWAH residents surging through the house, all is well enough for the moment.

But well enough is not always exciting, and two particularly trouble-prone Kitchen residents, who shall remain nameless, decided to stir things up a bit. So leaving the dance floor vacant and the chocy pretzels cooling on the back burner, Spinne DoC and Dr. T (oops, so much for nameless), decided to explore the basement.

"I didn’t know we had a basement" quoth Dr. T.

"Where did you think the washing machine was?" Spinne counters.

"I didn’t know we had a washing machine."

The Evil Spinne debated making a comment on the state of poor T’s attire, but refrained, secretly vowing to cut off the tequila supply should further lapses of memory occur.

So the basement stairs were located, but that’s not all we found, for--lo and behold!--the search of the basement yielded a mysterious little door, with a mysterious little tunnel behind. A quick debate ensued as to whether entry was advisable, but hey, it worked for Alice. If we don’t come back, someone sue Lewis Carroll and the makers of Being John Malkovich on our behalf. Expect your next cinematic viewing experience to come with a warning label.

But so far things have worked out well, for we emerged on the other end to find a vacated Volkswagen, keys in ignition. This seemed just the ticket for curing the post-holiday doldrums, so Spinne hopped in the driver’s seat and Dr. T hopped up onto the running boards and held on for dearest life, shouting directions on driving a stick shift all the while. But what’s that in the rear view mirror? Four gents chasing down their only available mode of transportation as the Relentless Docs drive off on the unnamed highway before them.

Write yourself out of that one, Hap!

Dr. T and Spinne