Posts Tagged ‘Squid’

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We built this squiddy

April 3, 2011

We built this squiddy

We built this squiddy from some plywood

Built this squiddy

Built this squiddy from some plywood…..

 

Squid the dog is singularly uninterested. Both by the woodsquid and our singing.

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A new game we all can play

February 28, 2011

The Curmudgeon and I were enjoying a fine breakfast out on Sunday when we struck upon a genius new game. It’s called “Who would play your dog in a movie.”

To wit:

The Dog. AKA The Squid.

Defining characteristics: short of stature. Bit of a ranga. Slightly kooky, sometimes neurotic. Definitely the sassy best friend character rather than the leading lady. Spooks easily.

My suggestion:

His counter-suggestions:

Dunno, I’m not happy with any of them. They seem brittle and not earthy enough. Any better ideas? How about…

Who would play your dog in a movie?

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Household spider

February 2, 2011

The Curmudgeon thinks Google should create Household Spider. You know the spiders that crawl the web, plucking out tasty keywords and making everything googleable? Well, this technology should go domestic so you know where all your things are. Car keys, cuff links, spare batteries, all that stuff. 

Conceptually, it’s brilliant, but I think there’s a technology leap required. My proposal until the technology is up to speed: we get a second dog, called Spider (preferably gangly with shaggy black or brown hair), who is trained to find stuff. Spider can snuffle through the house constantly, keeping track of everything.

This idea is less popular among my two coinhabitants. But: Squid and Spider – both eight-legged invertebrates*. Wouldn’t that be great?

Eight legs’ worth of dog (that is to say, two pooches, my canine niece and nephew) went missing yesterday. There was much terror and dread. Until they cruised home at midnight, strolling in the door, after tucking in to the nosh that had been left out for them. If Spider had been around, he’d have told us immediately where they were.

*I KNOW squids have 10 appendages but two are feeding tentacles. Pedants, back away.

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Actual size (but she seems much bigger to me)

January 14, 2011

There have been probing questions about Consuela’s size and forthright demands for comparisons of scale. I hope this photograph adequately illustrates her astounding bigness.

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Wrinkly

January 13, 2011

Yesterday morning when I left the house, the Curmudgeon was stretching his work shirt out over a pot of vigorously boiling water. This is because our iron, bought from a bargain shop in a fit of penny-pinching short-sightedness, stopped working. I think his solution to the wrinkly problem was quite resourceful and, by his account, reasonably successful. Except for the third degree steam burns, of course.

However another member of our zoo household has an even better solution. Consuela not only grows her own shirts but when she puts on a new one and needs to iron out the wrinkles, she simply inflates herself.

She moulted last night – a truly spectacular sight. She’s now, officially, enormous. Yet this is not her final moult. She will get bigger. What on earth will I feed her?

NO! Not that!

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Found treasure

January 2, 2011

Yesterday we took Squid to the beach which is as close to a New Year tradition that we’ve managed in this household. She saw the ocean for the first time exactly five years prior and was initially terrified by the waves until she worked out they were a jolly source of salty splashing. Now she gets excited and restless soon after we cross into South Melbourne when the first tang of sea and rotting seaweed hits her nostrils. But I digress.

So there we were, wading in the shallows over a sandbar near a family of three or four kids with two golden retriever puppies (Christmas presents, perhaps?). The kids were chubby in that uniquely child-like way before gravity has noticed they are alive; legs all gangly and slender but a thick belt of flesh that seems to be marchinging up, not down, their torsos. A boy of perhaps nine years charged past us back towards the shore, spotted something, and backtracked. He stuck his hand in the water and pulled out a yellowish bit of rubbish. He paused. He held it up against the sky.

“YESS!!!” he bellowed. It was a fifty dollar note. “Dad! Dad!”

We watched him skip towards his dad on the shore, clutching his treasure and ignoring that his shorts were sinking with the weight of the water. The last we saw of him was his plump, triumphant butt-crack.

When I was a kid we had a swimming pool in which my brother and I spent probably 90% of waking hours in summer. I remember once a friend of my parents went for a dip, unknowingly placing the twenty dollar note in his pocket in peril. Some hours later, we spotted fragments of banknote in the filter. Back then in the dark ages, money was made of paper, not plastic, and it did not take kindly to submersion. Upon advice that we could exchange it for an intact twenty at the bank if we found the majority of its sodden pieces, my brother and I combed the pool for sad little bits of green paper. I can’t remember whether or not we were successful but I do remember the feeling of finding such a stupendous amount of money.

Nice work, kid.

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Two types of squid

December 5, 2010

One is inky, funny-looking and an acquired taste. The other is in a can.