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The Johnson Cocktail consists of 3 parts gin, 2 parts French (dry) vermouth, and 1 part Italian (sweet) vermouth. I read a detective story once where someone pronounced the mixing of sweet and dry vermouths to be abominable. Turnes out he was the murderer.

My father collected Rowlandson prints (18th century British satirist, a bit more genial than Gillray, not as inspired as Hogarth) which he donated to the Art Gallery of Ontario after my mother died in 1979, except for the ones that hung in the house. Some years after his death in 1985 there was a big exhibition of these prints. At the opening ceremony the AGO served the Johnson Cocktail. It was probably the most hilarious opening the AGO has ever seen.

I mention this fact because I am currently drunk on Johnson Cocktails. (It only takes one.) This is how one survives renovations. I recommend it to anyone currently in any kind of difficulty.

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Beer doesn't get me high. Recently all it does is give me migraines. Scotch is equally as ineffective. Gin and vermouth are it as far as my metabolism is concerned.

Eh, it only takes two bottles before I launch into the happy squirrel song.

Huh. Y'know, what? All that work . . . you should just issue a mass invitation to the debut of your new john. You could administer cocktails for the occasion!

What a nice idea. If my friends weren't all in Seattle, Boston, NYC, Maryland, CA, the Maritimes, Japan and generally Elsewhere, I would. As it is I shall drink a Johnson cocktail to all of you in my new tub, when I have a new tub, which I don't today because the one I bought y'day was broken and the stores are all closed for Canada Day today so I can't either get the replacement from the other outlet or go elsewhere to buy another.

Renovations: as my friend said about Tokyo, they cure you of the western illusion that you can be in control of your life, or indeed of anything.

Pppfht. First Annual International Bathroom Convergence, toward promoting cross-cultural understanding. People could read insightful papers (and all your manga). And hold deep discussions (while swilling your booze). After umpteen Johnson cocktails, they'd worship your porcelain god with the appropriate rites.

A couple days sans tub is no sweato! Like camping, right?

(Aaa, it's so SMART to have other people do all the work. ;_; That way, it actually GETS DONE. ;_; I mean, I went w/o indoor water an entire summer for the greater good of plumbing replacement. ;_;)

But I'm not a camper. For many reasons, absence of lotsa hot water being the main one. (The flies and mosquitoes. The crawling insects. The hard ground. The paraphernalia. The need to be able to drive. The sleeping outside in a small enclosed space with no walls to protect you from the godawful rises at 5:30 something sun, which means waking at 5:30. Etc etc.) I am zen about no bathroom of my own for more-like-four-weeks because I have a sort of sento next door. But that's why someone else does my renovations. Three months of no bathroom is more than my zen will cover.

But those are all the good parts. La, people are strange. ^_~

(Actually, it is more than anyone's zen would cover unless their going for the Buddha gusto. Even me, armed with +10 insanity, was weeping by the end.)

Although I loudly mock the entire idea of foofy pink bathrooms . . . I, uh, really like my parents'. Which is quite pink. Uh.

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