Enter the gnome

Pronounce the g's
The gnome on my windowsill told me not to do it. The sun was making his face burn, he said, so stop gnawing and move me into the shade. That’s what he said. After I had made significant progress on the twine, that’s when I picked him up. I told him to stop bossing me around, because he is only plastic. Not to mention 10 inches tall. I put him back down in the same spot, to see if he would notice. He isn’t too clever, this gnome. But I guess more so than I thought. The screech coming from him was enough to get anyone to obey.He was perpetually gnoming up my day.What I was doing with the twine was I was gnawing it. Incidentally, I was also gnawing on my lip. Only this was by accident. I was trying to untie a package. Who ties packages with twine these days? It’s the twenty-first century for crying out loud. I didn’t really. Naturally, this whole conversation was in my head.Inside was a pot. Inside the pot was dirt. Inside the dirt was a seed, which was now a bursting orchid. Bursting in that it was purple and heliotrope and then bright white. Bursting with color.I put it into the sun filled spot previously occupied by Grumpy McGnomey. HA! I told him, this orchid won’t complain. Finally I can have some peace and quiet around here.

Hockey is not on

A barren, hockeyless land
So I have learned that there is no International Hockey World Championship coverage at all in the US. Because ESPN refused to buy coverage (claiming something to do with the hockey strike), and because the other TV channels couldn't afford to.
The only way to watch online (as far as I can see) is through Mediazone. This costs $7.99 per quarter final game, and $9.99 per semi/medal game. Or $39.99 for an all-access pass. Fox cut a deal with Mediazone to offer coverage for a bargain: $34.99, but the Fox Sports Grill in town isn't even showing it.
I sucked it up and spent the ten-spot on the Gold medal game since Canada (more or less undeservedly) made it to the finals. God knows where Mediazone got their commentators, but the experience was a far cry from Hockey Night in Canada, or TSN. One commentator had a British accent, and the other sounded Dutch. Or South African. Or something. All of these countries known for their hockey, of course.
The live streaming was decent, I suppose, but deficiencies (either on my end or theirs) tended to make the whole game look like a slow-mo replay. I could rarely see the puck, as it moved faster than the transmission could show.
In future, I will hunt out a good sports bar with a satellite dish that carries TSN and I will arrange to watch all the games there. I recommend that any sports bar in a non-Hockey town that is looking to carve a niche should really try to cater to all of us Canadian ex-pats who love and miss hockey -- even if just because it reminds us of home.