Meditating with the Swans

Quite frankly, Sister Madly had never seen the Professor run so fast; it made her think that she should be running as well.

How it happened she cannot say, but somehow Sister Madly found herself tagging along with the PhD’s for a round of golf- or, as the Professors like to call it, meditation, thus disguising a form of inhumane torture as a spiritual practice.

Well, Sister Madly was getting spiritual, too- and by that, she means adding shots of Fireball to her cider. You see, Sister Madly hasn’t had interest in meditating ever since she sold her soul back when she need some quick cash. As she now prefers the transcendental practice of throwing chicken claws at random strangers to golf, the world is starting to realized that Sister Madly has been living with a cheap, knockoff soul for several years. It’s much like discovering your sweetheart has pawned a diamond ring and has been wearing a duplicate made of sparkly glass.*

* Knock-off souls look much like nougat.

Now this type of spirituality often leaves the seeker in quiet contemplation over complex mysteries, such as why  does nature not permit birds to cross-breed when she grants that freedom to domesticated canines. Just think of how magical this world would be with hummingbird-sized peacocks, or with cardinal-colored crows stealing scraps out of the garbage. While the Professor’s ‘meditation’ compels one to be present in the moment, that particular moment is a dreary game of golf and who in their right mind wants to be present in the middle of that?

It was at that moment that the Professor rose out of the sand trap like a majestic phoenix in a pair of extremely unbecoming golf meditation pants. An errant swing had sent the meditation ball down to the bog, where the Professor was attacked by a swan-

A swan? What’s a fine, discerning creature like that doing at a golf course?*

* Then again, Sister Madly is also a fine discerning creature, herself, and SHE’S at a golf course…

The Professor proceeded to embarked upon a lengthy dissertation over the Swan’s unwarranted aggression and its arrogant disregard for golf meditation- basically getting himself into a tizzy over issues that would better be addressed with heavy sedation and months of therapy.

Perhaps it was angered by your fancy pants.

“…”

Now, don’t you go thinking about her in that tone of voice, Professor! All that Sister Madly meant was that she is constantly amazed that golf pants do not provoke more feral attacks; she’s fighting that primal instinct, herself…

…that is, until Sister Madly caught sight of this ‘swan.’

Professor… that’s a goose.

After a moment of dull incredulity, the Professor mentioned merely seeing a flash of a long-necked creature as it attacked, therefore assuming…

Once again, Professor, that PhD has let you down. By that definition, anything with a long neck would be a swan:

Swan.

Swan.

Punk Swan.

Checkered Swan.

What-Was-Evolution-Thinking? Swan.

Extinct Swan.

Hoppy Swan.

Spitting Swan.

Now it is common knowledge that geese are territorial, and this Goose had a particular affinity for Sand Trap By-The-Bog. Unfortunately, the Professor also had an affinity for Sand Trap By-The-Bog, despite protestations to the contrary, and any attempt to retrieve the (supposedly) wayward ball was thwarted by the Goose in a spectacle of honking, feathers, four-letter words, and golf pants while Sister Madly enjoyed the show with her Spiritual Advisor * from the safety of the hill. She had no idea that golf meditation could be this exciting!

* Aka, She Who Manned the Beverage Cart.

“I thought Canadians were polite!”

That’s stereotyping, Professor. Shame on you.

But it was the Spiritual Advisor who enlightened Sister Madly on the matter, as any good spiritual advisor would:

“That’s Max. He doesn’t like obnoxious golf pants.”

Oh dear. Someone really ought to tell the Professor. Someone in safe, muted colors.

Someone like Sister Madly.

And she will.

Someday…

 

THEME SONG: Swan Lake Suite, Op. 20 Scène, London Philharmonic

Advertisements

37 responses

  1. Hilarious! And oh those pants are a scream, no wonder it attracted the swans or goose or feathered friends 😉

    Liked by 1 person

    March 12, 2017 at 6:35 AM

  2. We are a polite people. We aren’t nice, by anyone’s definition!

    You will note the sub species of goose that was disturbed by the wayward PHD. 😉

    It’s all part of the plan. Were we nice, we’d share the goose green deposit rule.

    Liked by 1 person

    March 12, 2017 at 6:50 AM

    • The goose was not nice, that much is true. But it might have been polite, it is difficult to tell- I am not fluent in goose-speak.

      But the goose was definitely nicer than the pants.

      Liked by 1 person

      March 12, 2017 at 10:02 AM

      • I’ve been known to goose, where you stuck?

        Liked by 1 person

        March 12, 2017 at 10:09 AM

        • Well, what’s goose for ‘Sir, I don’t like your pants?’

          And how many languages do you speak up there?

          Liked by 1 person

          March 12, 2017 at 10:20 AM

        • honk, HONK, hisssssssssss

          42 languages of course.

          Liked by 1 person

          March 12, 2017 at 10:23 AM

        • I do believe that is precisely what he said!

          42- of course. A silly question, that was.

          Liked by 1 person

          March 12, 2017 at 10:28 AM

        • You sure it was a he? How long was the goose neck? Was the “HONK” high or low pitched? Was a present left on the pouting surface?

          Liked by 1 person

          March 12, 2017 at 10:38 AM

        • It was living on a golf course, therefore it must have been a he!

          Liked by 1 person

          March 12, 2017 at 10:46 AM

        • WP at it again… Just saw your comment response.

          Rather sexist comment Ms Madly. Don’t make me get the hat lady after you, or worse!

          He wasn’t living there and he was………… FOR REASONS OF NATIONAL SECURITY AND CANADA’S WORLD DOMINATION PLATFORM THE REMAINDER OF THE COMMENT HAS BEEN REMOVED.

          Liked by 2 people

          March 14, 2017 at 9:55 AM

        • What could be worse than the hat lady? Also, who IS the hat lady?

          (PS: the goose is being deported…)

          Liked by 1 person

          March 15, 2017 at 10:40 AM

        • Point of Information: The Goose is an agent of the Canadian World Domination Sect.

          The Hat Lady… Michelle McGann of course.

          Liked by 2 people

          March 15, 2017 at 11:23 AM

  3. Hole in one from the sidelines Sister Madly! excellent post!
    Love the meme but love the snazzy golf pants more…
    I have to ask though – whada swans know? they’ve had their swan song.

    Liked by 1 person

    March 12, 2017 at 7:46 AM

    • Thank you!

      I’d have to say the one thing swans DO know is to stay off a golf course (which is obviously more than I know…sigh…)

      Liked by 1 person

      March 12, 2017 at 10:00 AM

  4. Bears eat swans… oh, did I say that out loud? Tum tee tum…

    Liked by 2 people

    March 12, 2017 at 10:47 PM

  5. I particularly liked the Punk Swan …and I would have greatly wanted to witness the majestic Extinct Swan…that would have been quite a site…don’t go in his sand trap near the bog!

    YOU best be careful Ms Spectator and keep your ears sharp! For you ye without bright colored pants may have flying balls came at your head…. so keep your wits about you when you hear the heralded cry of “FOUR”

    it means you have about four second left to duck and cover with your Spiritual Advisor. Heaven forbid your SA gets hurt…. that would be the real tragedy in all this…:)

    Thanks Sister

    Liked by 1 person

    March 13, 2017 at 9:03 AM

    • Sand traps are like giant venus flytraps: they will close around you and swallow you whole should you set foot in one- at least, that is what my Spiritual Advisor says.

      … well, not my SA so much as the spirits…

      Liked by 1 person

      March 13, 2017 at 2:53 PM

  6. I’m sorry, but this is just f*cking funny!

    Meno<3

    Liked by 1 person

    March 14, 2017 at 2:35 PM

    • ;c) If I knew that golf could be this entertaining, I would have taken it up a long time ago!

      Liked by 1 person

      March 15, 2017 at 10:28 AM

  7. Reblogged this on theherdlesswitch.

    Liked by 1 person

    March 14, 2017 at 2:35 PM

  8. It’s only natural the swan/goose was offended by the meditation pants. China was offended by the meditation pants because they were visible all the way over there. A peaceful race of aliens is now planning to destroy earth because of those pants. And Canada has secretly declared war and is amassing an army of swan/geese.

    Liked by 1 person

    March 16, 2017 at 3:20 AM

    • It’s confirmed, then: those pants are about to bring about the Apocalypse.

      Deep down, didn’t we all know that golf would ultimately result in the end of the world?

      Liked by 1 person

      March 16, 2017 at 12:26 PM

      • I was pretty sure. I played it a few times with my father. He was, otherwise, a highly intelligent, wonderful man. But the need to smack a tiny ball with a stick then chase it always made me think of my German Shepherd playing fetch.

        Liked by 2 people

        March 16, 2017 at 12:38 PM

        • You’re right- it IS like playing fetch with yourself! I suppose it is that primal instinct, then, that draws certain individuals to the game.

          No doubt golf pants are a primal instinct, too, much like how the male bird is always more colorful than the female…

          Liked by 1 person

          March 16, 2017 at 3:04 PM

        • The one comfort I have is that Daddy never wore those pants. It could have been the end of the world. He was catastrophically color blind.

          Liked by 1 person

          March 16, 2017 at 3:46 PM

  9. Curiously enough, the swans round here all wear black – a fine colour for a bird, if I say so myself, though I do appreciate an iridescent sheen, tastefully displayed.
    Respect is due to the punk swan. Always open to divergent viewpoints.
    As for the ubiquitous geese – why on earth are they named Canadian? The one country I have visited where I didn’t meet them was Canada… OK, to be fair, I was only there for a ‘flying’ visit, and it was after labour day, so I didn’t actually see anybody at all between Sarnia and St Catherines (for the geographically bewildered, start at Grand Rapids, and travel due East, as the Raven flies, until you reach Buffalo. It’s one way to avoid Ohio, if you have a passport.)
    So yes, Ubiquitous Geese have been converting grass to obnoxiousness across the planet from dusk to dawn and top to bottom. I wouldn’t be surprised if the Mars Rover was deliberately designed in muted colours so that it didn’t get chased out of a sandpit by an angry goose. They get everywhere. Definitely not polite.
    I have, in my travels encountered all of your swans (including the fossilized remains of Extinct Swan) yet non so prolific as the geese.
    Onwards, onwards.

    Liked by 1 person

    March 17, 2017 at 1:49 PM

    • Do Ravens need a passport?

      I believe they are called Canadian in order to shift the blame for their anti-social behavior onto another country in the hopes that no one will ever travel to said country to discover that such creatures do not live there.

      I don’t think I’d want to meet the goose that could make it to Mars…

      Liked by 1 person

      March 17, 2017 at 9:49 PM

      • Ravens are, contrary to popular misconception, extraordinarily polite… to other ravens. Listen to them as they fly – often in pairs, never more – they always announce themselves when entering or leaving someone else’s territory.
        So yes, ravens will negotiate formally for the right to stay where they choose, and sometimes that means getting the right coloured ink on the right piece of paper, if the other person considers themself to be ‘human’. Canadian human, punk human, whatever… they like their paperwork. Passports can be quite pretty, especially the ones with holograms on them.
        Ravens would suffice with integrity and respect. Funny how the truly wild understand what it means to be civil. Tragic how the ‘civilized’ have forgotten.

        Liked by 1 person

        March 18, 2017 at 12:38 AM

  10. I think I used to have the shoes.

    Liked by 1 person

    April 1, 2017 at 3:41 PM

    • There was no mention of what the ‘swan’ thought of shoes… although I would assume bowling shoes would have sent him into a tizzy.

      But now that I think about it: if a creature that does not like bright colors = a creature who likes muted colors… could this be a mime swan?!?

      Like

      April 1, 2017 at 5:36 PM

      • I’ve never seen one pretending to be in a box or pulling on a rope. But come to think of it, they don’t say much. They just quietly cruise around making funny movements with that long neck. I wonder what those movements might suggest to another swan….

        Liked by 1 person

        April 2, 2017 at 12:13 PM

  11. A great little tale about meditating, goosey professors and ……, was that a hat lady, or a bat lady, Madly ???? 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    June 12, 2017 at 1:40 PM

    • That was a tongue-twister!

      Hat lady, bat lady… I think they’re all code for ‘one step away from CAT lady’ (the crazy kind!)

      Like

      June 12, 2017 at 2:11 PM

If You Want to Sing Out, Sing Out!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s