Eureeka!

So after all this searching, today, october 5th 2005, at 10:09 am, I finally found out how to make titles for my blogs. Some might say it took a little too long, considering all you have to do is look at the entire page and see that there is a spot that says 'Title:', but anyways, thats ok. In honor of my finding the title bar, today's blog will be full of colour (the l is there). And since it's been slowing me down lately, today I will write about contruction.
Yesterday I had to wait in construction for ten minutes before they finally let our side go. TEN MINUTES! Holy moly it was annoying. AND there was a great big truck behind us that smelled bad. Well I guess I didn't really have much to say about construction, so how about... canaries? Well my sister once had a canary named Lucky that she got for Christmas. He was bright yellow, sat in a cage in the corner of our dining room, and chirped sweet tunes for us all day long. One day that winter we decided to go skating. The whole family piled into our van and off we were to the richmond rink. However none of us had realized that this cat we somewhat adopted, who was suppose to stay outside, got in. When we got back from our skate there were feathers all over the living room, and my sister was terrfied to find a little birdie foot behind the couch. Needless to say the cat got kicked out and my poor sister got way to many jokes about naming her bird 'Lucky'. On the bright side, mom and dad then bought her a budgy, which she cautiously named 'Mr. Joe', and he lived to a ripe old age. The Mr. Joe legacy was then continued when my younger brother got a hampster and named him 'Ninja Joe'. Ninja Joe proudly carried the Joe name for about four years, when he died shortly after Christmas day. My brother didn't seem to care. I cried.
On the topic of pets, I once had a pet fly. Or maybe it was an ant. Anyway, wings or no wings, my beloved insect lived beneath my bed in one of my mothers dishes, with four or five holes poked in the top. Why did he live under my bed? Well I didn't think my mother would have approved of this pet, so it was sort of top secret. I forget his name now, but I think it was Simon, after my bus driver. So everyday I would feed Simon crushed Cheerios and sometime syrup, and then watch him fly, or walk, or whatever he did, or just shake his dish for a little while. We were happy together. I don't remember how long Simon lasted, partly because I never knew if he was dead or a somniac [I'm assuming that's the opposite of insomniac]. Anyways, none of my other pets were quite so exciting, the rabbits who ate wood, the crazy dog who bit everybody, or the cat with six toes. So I guess that's all for today!