Banner Day.

When Jordi heard the kettle click, I sprung from the couch.

“How did you do that?”

Years of experience. I make tea every night. I know approximately how long it takes for the water to boil, within 30 seconds.

Jordi was unsatisfied by my answer: “But it was right after I heard the kettle click!”

Luck, then.

Growing up, I’d boogie around the house to the music I imagined in my head. Mom was mystified by my ability to dance (ridiculously) to the beat and how I’d stop at the end of a song. It wasn’t always that I could feel the bass. Perhaps I was subconsciously picking up the sound waves in a way that did not involve my ears.

Maybe it was….

I am positively gruntled by how my radishes have radished. Look at this chungus:

Compare these chunguses (chungi?) to the radishes I harvested at the end of May:

The word “chungus” only appears in the dictionary as a slang. But “gruntled”? It, in fact, means the opposite of disgruntled. Thanks to Zoée for bringing this to my attention. I intend to incorporate it into my daily vocabulary. It’s good to be gruntled.

And this is how my Google searches evolve:

“I wonder if gusted is the opposite of disgusted?”

It is not. I am disgruntled.

Sometimes, I wonder about other people’s 10 most recent search terms. Cate Blanchett husband? ARE QUAILS DUMB?

It could be worse: Dangerops prangent sex? Will it hurt baby top of its head?

I tried watching Honey, I Shrunk the Kids the other night. It did not hold up. When the kids first get shrunk, none of them seem that freaked out by it. The acting is atrocious. The best actor in the movie is the cat, who appears in many scenes doing regular cat things. As the movie was made before CGI, the props and set design are amazing. The ant puppet was much more believable than Amy, played by an actor also named Amy.

I stopped the movie 20 minutes in and found better entertainment in reading IMDb’s user-submitted errors. This was my favourite:

“Nick’s glasses are impractically durable. He has on more than one occasion while shrunk where they could’ve been broken in any way, shape, and form, especially after being flung in the air not once but twice (from being on a runaway bee and after nearly being chopped to death by a lawnmower), his glasses would’ve had some kind of damage on them, like a scratched or cracked lens or warped out of shape.”

It was 1989, though. Everything was made better in the old days.

We’re about a week away from the summer solstice. I’ve been making the most of the extended daylight by going on walks. Last night, I petted a random cat, spotted at least 10 deer, and this house:

Jordi says some guy driving by noticed us taking pictures and yelled,

“FATHERRRRRRRRRR!”

My magical deaf senses did not pick up on that.

Anyway, if you haven’t decorated your house for Father’s Day, do you even really love your dad?