My littlest calls Pringles “froodles” and because it’s so adorable I buy them more often.
When she was littler she thought that was their actual name - one time I got some and she went ‘FROODLES! Daddy got FROODLES!’ and it was the cutest thing. Now she knows that’s not their name but we call them froodles to hang onto the cuteness. This is a special Christmas season can, because the Christmas season starts on the Day of the Dead, and the special can has Santa on it, which makes for a weird kind of relationship to the delicious insides - scooping out Santa’s brains like a zombie apocalypse at the North Pole. This was all on my mind because I ate a few froodles after getting the dishes washed tonight.Lately my dishwashing viewing’s been Ken Loach movies. Real downer, old Ken, but in a compelling way. Lots of Yorkshire accents from the 70s, which is lovely. ‘Ey up, what yeh playing at?’ kinda thing. At one point my oldest, when she was very little, had gotten fixated on Yorkshire, I can’t remember how, and she’d say it with an added ‘e’ at the front: “eeeeyorkshire.”
Today I talked to some friends on Zoom and read some stuff for a colleague and did some work email and phonecalling, and I went for a run. That’s the day as far as I can recall. The run: I’m so slow, so out of shape, hard to be patient with that. I heard what I’m pretty sure was a coyote. I’ve heard it 3 or 4 other times. I mean for my run to finish right at sunset but I keeping getting out later so sunset comes in the middle or earlier, which makes for it being darker than I really prefer but the upside is animals - coyote howl, saw several deer, heard a really big splash of something jumping into or out of and back into the water, and I heard owls several times. Barred owl, maybe? I can’t be bothered to look it up right now. It’s the owl with the call that goes “who- who- who cooks for you all?” That’s how the bird guy described it at the nature events we went to a few times hosted by the park district. At some of them he brought owls from a raptor rescue place, such cool animals.
I think that’s all the news, so time to start making shit up. I took an owl home with me. It flew down and crawled into my pocket, pecked my finger a little when I tried to get it out, and I didn’t want to squash it. It lives with us now, I made it baked beans, it just licked all the sauce off every bean, then laid out the individual beans on the floor in abstract shapes. Turns out it was letters but I didn’t figure that out until half way through. What I caught was ‘few will be spared’ but from what, I didn’t catch and it got so sulky when I asked it to repeat the message. Seems petty to me - I mean, they’re my beans, I made them to be nice? - but that’s birds for you.
