Monthly Archives: March 2010

Wel woodn’tcha kno I waz jest tawkin ta Twindle Mumbly bout this yearz Easter hop-athon comin up, wen my good frend Sara Greenbaum callz invitin me to her Passin-over party, don’tcha kno.

Butt Sarah, I say, I’m not Jewish. Wel, she laffs so hard I think the phones gonna brake. May, she says …(I like her callin me May) … haff the peeple comin to sit at my cedar arnt Jewish.

Her voice is full of smiles n she says:  Yewl come, yewl read with us, sing with us, diskuss with us, and yewl eat and yewl eat. Wel while Sara’s talkin kalories n the like, I’m a-thinkin she means we’re gonna sit at her cedar tree in her bak yard round a bonfire, don’tcha kno. So I say, Sara, I’ll breeng the marshmellas.

Now sheez howlin with laffter n the phone jumps rite outta my hand, klonks Marmalade my tabby kat on the hed, n she skampers off meowin somethin feerce.

So I’m hed over heels giddy with excitin-ment kause itz now tyme to go sit outside at Sara’s cedar, butt wen I get to her howse she leeds me to the dinin room, don’tcha kno, where this dolly lookin table is all set up with spreeng flowers n kandels and fresh vegtables n dip n kolorful plates. En there’s this basket full o watt Sara tells me r YallMerKaz …littl silk caps fur the men to ware on their heds, don’tcha kno.

Befur I noze it, all the gests r there n I’m a-thinkin we’re gonna do somethin speshel like dye matso balls like we do Eester eggs, don’tcha kno…butt insted we all take terns readin a story bout an Egyptian Pharaoh n the Jewish folks gettin free o him.  En then it hitsz me watt this passin-over nite is all abowt —over-comin r own neggativity, don’tcha kno.

Why thatz a reel good thing, I’m a- thinkin. I sure kno how angree I kin get wen Beanpole Starkman crashes his bi-plane inta my deer feeder.  Now I spoze thatz normal, butt itz not good holdin onta that feelin, don’tcha kno.  It kin nott up yer stomik like a broken septic tank n make ya look all sowr like.

Az it turns out, my frend Sara Greenbaum waz rite.  Wee ate and wee ate… n wee diskussed n wee sang.  En ya know watt? I’m all fur passin-over inta feelin reel good abowt things, n abowt all the folks arownd me, don’tcha kno.

By the way … Bogart (my bear) looked reel nice in a YallMerKa.  Why he even learnt how to say honey pot in Hebroo.

Nightie nite.  Maybelle

What a night! All my good friends came by for Earthy Hour, don’tcha know. The boys… Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom, Twindle Mumbly and Beanpole Starkman put a whole bunch of logs in the pit just out back of my cottage, and like magic, a bonfire blazed with light.

A big fat moon hung in the night sky —  almost full, you could see a gy-normuss ring around its collar.

Then me and the girls — Vilma Yuccch and Sybil Beucannon Hughes tied notes to a wishing tree, don’tcha know. Sybil wished for clean energy…I wished for action from world leaders on the climate. And I don’t mean taking a girlfriend to Florida!  And Vilma wished Officer McBottom would finally propose to her, don’tcha know.

Well then …at 8:30PM  I turned all my cottage lights out, and we all turned our heads toward downtown Lake WhaddyathinkImean (all two blocks of it). Well wouldn’tcha know,  the only thing that was lit up was Leroy Shingels. I swear, there were more beers in that man than at the beer store.

We were gonna roast marshmellows, but Bogart found ’em before we could eat ’em and ate the whole bag himself.  Bears these days.

9:30 came and the fire was still a-blazing.  The temperature dropped and we all huddled close like spokes on an umbrella, don’tcha know.

It was the best Earthy Hour this ol’ gal can remember.

And if the Federal government actually does something about climate change, I will dance a jig with Bogart ’til the cows come home. And I wish they would. I miss them.

Nightie night.  Maybelle

Well, it’s Friday and I sure know where I’m gonna be tanight, don’tcha know. I’m goin ta the meat draw at the Lake WhaddyathinkImean Leegion and this time I’m gonna WIN me a stake!

That’s right.  I did a Astro Illogical readin and the starz r all lined up fer Gemininnyeans. We got a whole gaggle of planets huggin us… the sun, Joopiter, Murkery, and even YerAnus, don’tcha kno.

And that meens when Twindle Mumbly reeches his hand inta the raffel baskit, this ol gal’s gonna win sum steaks r hamburg r a roste, don’tcha know.  And I’m head over heals giddy cawz I’ll be abel ta bring it over ta the food bank and give it to naybors who needs it.

Oh n all my friends’ll be there…Vilma Yucch, Sybil Beaucannon Hughes, Nickie B, Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom. Too bad Bogart won’t be there.  He’s gonna stay at the cottage n talk to his new sweetie on eHarmoney, don’tcha know.  Bears these daze.

Can’t wait ta hear all the skuttle butt…see the yungins makin eyez at one t’other…McBottom goin all gooey sittin next ta Vilma. Sybil takin movin piktures o evry body with her digi-cam and o course, accidently fallin inta the lap of one of r Lake WhaddyathinkImean buffed voluntear fire fighters.

Darts’ll go flyin, popcorn’ll get cawt in bridges, and I don’t mean the kind you paddle under in a boat! And o course, good ol Beanpole will be flyin overhead in his Tiger Moth biplane jest to let us all know he’s up there protectin the village from alien invitation, don’tcha know.

Then after, we r all goin ta Holyburton for sum real good singin and fiddlin by the DoMeWrongs at McKeck’s.

Boy do I ever thank mi lucky starz!  Maybelle

Today I get a long distance call from Beanpole Starkman, don’tcha know, all the way from Miami Beach Florida. He’s there visiting his old uncle Muler who hasn’t seen his teeth in 30 years.

Well, Muler and Beanpole get this bet goin’ and Beanpole wants me to declare him the winner. You see, Muler and some other folks down there believe us Canadians are droppin’ like flies cause our healthy care system ain’t workin’. In fact, they’re calling it a dis-ass-ter. Do you believe that? A DIS-ASS-TER!

Well, this ol’ gal shouts into that ear piece: Muler Starkman, THAT JUST AIN’T TRUE!!

Guess I must of yelled perdy loud cause Muler falls back into a bowl of dip and all four table legs buckle and wham! …down he goes like the front end of the Tight-Annik.

Next thing I know, Beanpole’s a-callin’ an ambulance and arguing something about Muler’s previous condition. And I’m thinking…if yer older than ten, yer gonna have some kind of previous condition, ‘less you been shut in bed since birth, don’tcha know.

Hmm, our dis-ass-truss healthy care system, posh. Why just last week, Lake WhaddyathinkImean’s very own, Klein Megner, got two brand new knee caps, and Gracie Shmolen got THREE (one for her sister, Rose).  And how ’bout Manny and Evner Flutterman? Why they got  two new hips and a colon-os-crappy to boot!

I mean some of our south-o-the-border neighbors need to know the facts.

We do NOT wear snowshoes in the SUMMERTIME! Our police officers do NOT ride around in Santa-red-mountie outfits and park their horses at Tim Horton’s. And we DO get some perdy good healthy care here in Canada.

And you know what? I feel good just for sayin’ so!

Nightie night.  Maybelle

Seems everybody in Lake WhaddyathinkImean wants to be the next Vincentie Van Go or Pablum Pikasso, don’tcha know. Why even Twindle Mumbly tried molding one of his prize taxidermy bunnies into a potato chip bowl.

Now Vilma Yuccch has taken to tie-dyin’ sleeves.  Just sleeves.  All kinds of wild lines and circles in shocking pinks and greens, blues and golds swirling, twisting.  She figures folks’ll be able to wear their short sleeve shirts all winter long. You  just stick on the sleeves and feel yer temperature rise.

Why you can even interchange ’em.  Put one designed sleeve on one side, another on t’other.

Problem is…Vilma was experimenting with great big vats of glow-in-the-dark colors and leaned straight over a shocking pink tub, lost her footing on the wooden step stool Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom built for her, and fell head over bottom into her new pink skin. Now you can see Vilma from miles away…at NIGHT!

The good news is…Bogart got it all on his digi-cam, put it up on YouTube and Vilma’s tie-dyed-and-gone-to-heaven-glow-in-the-dark sleeves are selling like hotcakes.

See? You can never tell. What looks like a big ol’ nightmare just could turn out to be yer biggest blessing.

Nightie night. Maybelle

Oh will ya just look at those stars, all lined up for a whole gaggle of birth days today, don’tcha know. March 22 and we’re right on the bicuspid of Pie-seeun and the next one over, Aireeez.

You got yer Reese Withering Spoon who won the Osker fer playin Johnny Cash’s wife, June…but oh my goodyness, she was terrifik in Vanity Fair. What a movie that was. Took me to places in hisstry I ain’t never been before. And what a romancy story to boot.

Then there’s Andy FLloyd Webber. He’s a bicuspid baby too. And what a mind. Dressed a whole bunch o humans in cat suits, stuck a couple o songs in their mouths, and went laffin all the way ta the bank.

Willie Shatner’s another March 22 Pie-seeun, cept one with a toupee. Oh yea. I seen it drop in a bowl of soup when I was Lost Angeleeez.

And lasting but not least of all…Dwayne Shouldmore. Dwayne is Lake WhaddyathinkImean’s answer to Howdy Doody. They both smile all the time, have freckles on their noses, and wooden heads. Only diffrence…Dwayne is human.

As fer their horror scopes … nothin horrible bout em. Life’s lookin’ good for Pie-seeuns. They kin spect to see little miracles every day from today on-erd.  That’s right, don’tcha know.  So stop complainin’ Pie-seeuns. Every thin good is on its way includin this …

Happy birth day from me, Bogart (my bear), Vilma Yuccch, Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom, Twindle Mumbly, and Sybil Beaucannon-Hughes. Oh, and of course, Nickie B.

Nightie night,  Maybelle

I’m head over heels giddy cause now Vilma Yuccch’s great aunt, Shlerma Grizelda Yuccch (she lives in Forsooth Idaho) can see a doctor when she needs to.  And boy does she ever need to. Why everything that woman touches falls on some part of her body or t’other. Poor Shlerma looks like one big BandAide top to her bottom, don’tcha know. And now she can get fixed up real proper.

Sure enough it was Astro Illology that did it. Seems that feisty Leo-nean in the White House rode the wings of Mars that turned direct on March 10 and got his healthy care thingy passed somehow.  I sure am sorry not everybody’s happy about it.  But Shlerma and millions of folks and their kids were needin’ it so bad, I just know their hearts must be swellin’.

I do hope it all works out for every body, tho. Changin things ain’t never easy. But you gotta start somewhere, don’tcha know.

Which reminds me …I gotta radio show to do. That’s right. Stix Tooya, drummer of the rock group, Gastritis, ( Twindle Mumbly’s twin brother), will be my fractured, uh, featured guest. Why he’ll be improvising all kinds of rhythyms on my wash board, milking stool, and even the deer feeder Beanpole is forever crashing into with his Tiger Moth bi-plane.

Oh, and Bogart’s gonna play on his drum set, don’tcha know.  Such a talented bear.

Gotta go, and remember  … Behind those rain clouds the sun is always shinin’, and if you can’t see it, then you just shine in its place.

Nightie night.  Maybelle

Signs of summer here at Lake WhaddyathinkImean … wakin’  up to squawkin’ geese on the lake just down the hill from my cottage, don’tcha know.  Started at the crack of daylite and it’s still wakin’ up the village.

Now my Auntie Fester usta stuff her earholes with cotton balls the whole summer long. But I kinda like my new fangled alarm clock. I missed the geese these long winter months. Life is good, even if it’s noisy.

Here’s some singin’ that as my good friend Sybil Beaucannon Hughes would say is: Fab-u-licious!  Holyburton’s own rock celebrity, Carl Dixon sang up a storm in Holyburton t’other night. Why that man could power the CN Tower, don’tcha know. Thought his guitar was gonna fly right outta his hands. And his voice! He hit notes Ripley wouldn’t believe.

Well, Vilma Yuccch and Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom jumped right outta their seats and started dancin’ like there was no tamarra.  Beanpole kept buggin’ me ta dance, and Twindle Mumbly lit his shoes on fire with Sybil B.  The whole room was jumpin’. Good ol’ rock songs and even a couple of Jo-Annie Mitchell’s, don’tcha know. Yep, that Carl D sure is somethin’ special!

Too bad they don’t allow bears in that place, Bogart woulda loved it!

Nightie night.  Maybelle

Well, top of the day to ya.  That’s right, it’s St. Patty’s Day here in Lake WhaddyathinkImean and green beers are a-flyin’.  Did you know they’re sayin’ about 13 million pints of Guiness are bein’ drunk today?  No wonder folks look green.  And to think … it was the colour blue that first stuck to St. Patty’s Day over 1,000 years ago.  I guess cause there was no detergent or laundry mats in those days, when St. Patty’s robes got moldy and turned green, so did hisstry.

Oh brother! I can hear Beanpole Starkman’s bi-plane hoverin’ over my cottage. What’s that, Bogart? …Bogart, my bear is growlin’ at me.  Scuse me a second. Bogart, turn on yer voice synthesizer cap sose I can hear what yer thinkin. I’ll write down what he says fer ya. Here it comes: 

Mama Maybelle…St. Patrick’s real given name was Maewyn Succat.

Bogart’s such a smarty-pants. Gets all his information from Google, whoever he is.

Well, I gotta run. Vilma Yuccch and Officer Stanley Penelope McBottom are coming over tonight and I gotta put green veggie dye in the dip, don’tcha know … M

Ya know, back when I was a youngin,  Auntie Fester use-ta tell me what was what by where the stars were sittin.  And I don’t mean the stars in movies and the like.  I mean the ones in the sky at Lake WhaddyathinkImean. You see, Auntie Fester was fascinatin bout astro-illology. She’d measure my head and say it was big cause I was fulla ideas, bein a Geminina and all. That’s the astro-illogical sign I was born under, don’tcha know. She even said one day Maybelle, yer gonna be talkin up a storm to folks who can’t even see ya. And Auntie Fester was right. Turns out I’m talkin to hunreds of folks on my radio show.

Whatcha probly don’t know is, Auntie Fester taught me all about astro-illology and now I’m givin readings too. Like today, bein the middle of March and all, I can surely tell ya if yer a Pie-Seeun, get ready to have the elevator in yer buildin fixed or yer pie won’t rise. That’s cause Yerannus is swirling round Murkery. On the other hand, if yer a SaggingTarius, chin-ups should do it. And if you think astro-illology is fer the birds…you’d be right. Robins and Canada geese are specially partial to readin horror scopes in papers left on park benches.

And remember … behind those rain clouds, the sun is always shinin, and if you can’t see it…you just shine in its place. Nightie night. M