Carl, our Brazilian exchange student, had new furniture delivered to our apartment today. From the La-z-boy store! Now, as much as I'm against pronouncing "z" as "zee" I cannot complain about new rocker recliners with massage built in. The Americans can have the last letter of the alphabet for all I care.
And seeing as it was warm today, we all decided to have a bar-b-que on the balcony but I don't think we should have let Carl do it. His idea of a bar-b-que was to light a pile of old furniture on fire. The footstool was okay, but the couch smoked a lot.
He decided, as a "treat", to cook the second parrot he brought from Brazil with him and share it with us. Like the other, it seemed resigned to its fate of being bludgoned. Stoic, it didn't make a peep. Those ice flow protestors would have been beside themselves.
I was especially impressed when I saw the look in it's eyes, as Carl wailed away on it with a rolling pin; it seemed to say "is that all you've got?"
Anyway, the bird was not actually a parrot according to my sister Stella's translation, it was apparently a rare "Shlumpvee" or something like that. Apparently there's not many left in the jungles of Brazil and I can understand why, they are delicious!
It's Tuesday night and as promised I'm trying to catch up on my Canadian TV. I always try to watch George S. on The Hour but sometimes his bobbing and weaving image on the big screen plays havoc on my vertigo after a few cosmopolitans.
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