Rikki’s on a Mission

You may remember Rikki’s mission:


Rikki hasn’t forgotten, either, and he’s on the way to establishing an identity within the community. Yes, it involves a name that will be recognized by people within the community, and which is not Rikki Tikki-Tavi’s legal name. It is more of a nickname, in brackets.

There is already a precedent for this kind of thing, and Rikki is not forging any new ground. You could say Rikki is merely testing a precedent. There are three more years before Rikki’s action plan will be put before the public in an election, my friends. Rikki will have to start using that term a lot, with everyone and anyone. That’s what politicians do, and Rikki is learning the ropes.

Up, up and away, or yawadnapupu, as Wayne and Shuster used to say.


The Time Has Come

A bully is a bully is a bully.

It could be a neighbor who grants you the title of “the bad people” in the neighborhood, based on a second- or third-hand account of someone who thought they saw you do something, but didn’t even know what you looked like, or that you even existed, or what it was they saw, for that matter. Lots of that sort of thing happened in the Deep South back in the day. To Kill a Mockingbird, much?

It could be someone lurking in the depths of the elephant graveyard known as Google Plus. People don’t need a reason to abuse you in a public forum. They don’t need proof to make ludicrous claims. The internet is their weapon, and they intend to slay you with it. It’s a sign of their own sickness.

Some people don’t even need a reason to tell you that your child, who they just met and have had no prior contact with, is a “bad kid”, because they say so.

So this is what fairy tales are about. Little Red Riding Hood’s nemesis was a wolf in granny’s clothing. People who look harmless aren’t always. And you shouldn’t believe someone just because they “look” nice. Inside, they could be a rotten old troll who lives under a bridge, or on Google Plus, or on your street in your neighborhood.

Day of the Doctor

Get ready, Whovians. The global simulcast of “The Day of the Doctor” is imminent. If you didn’t get a ticket to one of the 3D theatre airings, no worries. Perhaps, like the RRH family, you prefer the comforts of home, which include a snack of fish sticks and custard for this special event.

In the meantime, we’ll be on the internet, experimenting with Google’s Dr. Who Doodle.

Google’s Doctor Who 50th Anniversary Doodle Pits You Against Daleks, Cybermen, And Weeping Angels

Mrs. RRH spent some time yesterday electrocuting Dr. Whos with Daleks, just to see what would happen. A divine way to waste time, all in all. Mrs. RRH won’t tell you how long she has been a fan of The Doctor, but you’re welcome to guess. Let’s just say that The Doctor and his various reruns were preferable to J.R. Ewing back in the day.











Volcanalis…or Meet the Neighbors

I’ve been promising to introduce you to more of the neighbors out here in the hinterland. Today, meet “Volcanalis”.


It’s a(nother) long story.

Back when the ‘hood was nothing but some houses on barren land, the RRHs (redridinghoods) happened to be outside doing some landscaping. They noticed that one of the neighbors was, too. His project was on a much grander scale, and involved heavy equipment: to wit, a front-end loader. There it was, in the middle of the day on a Sunday, driving down the street to the park. There it was, removing large boulders from the community park and driving them back down the street to the “Volcanalis” property. There was Mr. “Volcanalis”, supervising the arrangement of the stolen boulders for his landscaping. These were some rocks: very large ones, worth hundreds of dollars each, but acquired free of charge in a brazen, mid-day heist by Mr. V. and his crew.

The “Volcanalis” episode of Grimm had not aired yet, nor did the TV series even exist at the time. It became clear in retrospect, though, that “Volcanalis” was the perfect name for this Grimm neighbor of ours.

It also became clear that landscaping boulders on public property should be fitted with tattoos and microchips, much like the family pet. But never mind.

Naturally, this story comes back to the block party. The RRHs had to zip their lips when they met Mr. V. at the block party. The urge to blurt out, “Oh, so you’re the rock thief,” was great. The RRHs exchanged bug-eyed, eyebrow-raised glances amongst themselves instead.

They also had to contain themselves when Mr. V. announced his occupation. Can you guess what he does for a living when he’s not stealing rocks?


Well, isn’t that special?

The redridinghoods caught up with some old neighbors recently. Let’s get one thing straight right off the bat: “caught up with” does not mean the same thing as “caught”. No one was running, and no one ran away. No one was captured, or arrested, or taken away in a police car, or anything of the sort. None of this happened in broad daylight, nor in the middle of the night, but in the “evening”, that state of in-between. These are technical details to remember because today’s topic is the block party. Again.

These former neighbors had attended the block party in the past. One day, they up and moved suddenly. Yes, it was a few weeks before the annual block party. I’m not saying that these two events were related, even though some people might twist the telling of this tale to make it appear so.

Speaking of Gladys Kravitz 1 (and her soul sister, Gladys Kravitz 2), we happened to mention our encounter at the block party. “Don’t talk to her!” was the instant response from the happily-resettled and living-in-anonymity ex-neighbors. “Too late, we already did,” was the response to the response.

Life is a series of moving on from past mistakes. Naturally, the ‘hoods turned to TV for its infinite wisdom and answers to all life’s questions. Nobody’s perfect. Well, nobody except for one person. And so it was that the redridinghoods came to realize that the only perfect person is “Church Lady”. GK1 and GK2 are church ladies. It all started to make sense. They’re spreading the gossip, not spreading the gospel. They are holier than thou. They’ll lambaste you with your (real or imagined) sins up one side and down your back side. It’s the Gossip According to the Gladyses. It’s true because they said so.

I’m starting to think the Ford brothers (http://www.sunnewsnetwork.ca/sunnews/straighttalk/archives/2013/11/20131114-120008.html) could learn a thing or two about keeping the story straight from the GKs in our ‘hood. They are pretty special, all of them.


I’ll Take the Swan-dog Combo…

Since you asked, the redridinghoods’ swan-dog is one of a kind and definitely not for sale. If you want one of your own, you’ll have to order the swan-dog combo:


Here’s how it works, we presume:

The redridinghoods were astonished to learn that Canada geese have run afoul of those living on waterfront properties in Grimm country. How can this be happening in a place infested with ravenous vesen? Perhaps the citizens of Portland will band together and hire a flock-pack of swan-dogs to restore the natural order.

Frankly, there’s a bigger problem in the world than Canada geese. This is the misuse of the preposition “of”. The Canada goose is plentiful. The preposition “of” is on the endangered species list. Mrs. r. believes there should be a Hinterland Who’s Who for “of”. It is a rare creature in these troubled times.