Vinyl cafe who is dave

Dave's daughter Stephanie decides to take advanced statistics at university. But she struggles with the course and ends up going to extreme measures to stay awake during study sessions. Originally aired: May 26th, Dave decides to take Mary's brand new Lexus to the car wash. Originally broadcast: April 29, Vinyl Cafe March 30th, "Dolls" March 30, Morley learns about Dave's fear of dolls, a fear that started with a doll his sister Annie had as a kid.

Originally aired: June 4th, Vinyl Cafe March 23rd, "Letters" March 23, Today on the show Stuart tells us why he thinks writing letters is important. Dave's hypochondria reaches new heights when his entire family gets the flu. When Dave and his little sister Annie find a stray dog stranded on a chunk of ice in the river, they hatch a rescue plan to save the dog before he tumbles over the falls.

Originally aired: March 24th, Sam gets a job working for Mr. Dave looked down the list and without a second thought said, "I'll bake the Christmas cake. And that's how, on a Saturday in the middle of November, Dave came to be in his kitchen, surrounded by brown paper bags of sultanas and currants and lemons and figs and dates and prunes and nuts and glazed cherries and various sugars. And a giant jug of bourbon. He was wearing a Santa Claus hat.

Dave had imagined his family at home while he baked—Sam licking the beaters, Morley with her arms around him. But Dave and Morley have been married for over twenty years now. Morley knows how these things go. She couldn't get out of there fast enough. Autumn dimmed and the rains of November arrived and the street lights went on earlier each night.

The wind came up and the leaves blew off the pear tree in the backyard, and it was good to be inside. And inside at Dave's house, life was sublime. Two or three evenings a week he would head downstairs and sprinkle them with a soaking mixture he'd made with the bourbon.

Sometimes on the weekends Kenny Wong came over, and they would go into the basement and sprinkle the cakes together. On Grey Cup weekend, Dave and Kenny watched the entire game without touching one beer. They sucked on half a fruitcake each. By the middle of December, Dave was ready for the arena. Big time. His cakes were moist and mature and, truth be told, delicious. Dave had eaten two of them. He had nibbled them both to death. He had the remaining dozen lined up like gold bars in a vault.

Amir and Rashida had their gift baskets ready to go too—wrapped in Cellophane, tagged and waiting in the front hall. But a sense of anxiety had descended upon the Chudarys. Amir and Rashida didn't know when the neighbourhood gift-giving would begin. Knowing nothing about Christmas traditions, they didn't want to jump the gun. That night Rashida said, "I am thinking, Amir, that the gifting has obviously begun.

We have not been included because they do not want to make us uncomfortable. If we are going to be part of this neighbourhood, Amir, it is up to us to make the first move. Amir thought otherwise, and they had a steamy argument about what to do. In the end, Rashida said, "I am going tonight and that is all. If you are coming with me, Amir, you must come tonight. When Rashida handed Morley her Christmas basket, Morley experienced a stab of guilt. She was ashamed of herself. She had been working so hard to minimize the hassle of Christmas, and these new neighbours, these new Canadians, had so clearly embraced the spirit of the season.

She invited them in and she put their basket under the tree. Then she said, "I have your present upstairs. She flew upstairs and, in a panic, grabbed a glass bowl she had picked up at a craft show. It was already wrapped. She had been planning to give it to her mother. It took Amir and Rashida three hours, but when they'd finished, they had left baskets all over the neighbourhood. The next morning, Morley noticed a tiny rash in the crook of her elbow—a spot that often flared when she was feeling pressured.

While she was drying her hair she told Dave what was bugging her. We have lived right next to Maria and Eugene for eighteen years and we have never given them anything.

And Gerta, too. If I give something to the Chudarys, surely I should give something to Gerta. She could feel the muscles in the back of her neck tightening. As she headed downstairs for breakfast she was trying to figure out when she would have time to shop. Morley went to a flower store at lunch and bought two bunches of holly.

She was planning on taking one to Eugene and Maria next door and one to Gerta. She was planning to do it after supper. But before she could do that, the doorbell rang and there was Gerta—standing on the stoop beside a wagon full of presents. On the weekend Morley dug through her emergency stash of presents looking for something to give Mary Turlington.

She found a pair of hand-dipped candles. They were warped. Perhaps, she thought, if she warmed them up, she could straighten them. She took them downstairs and put them in the microwave. After she had scraped out the microwave, Morley dashed to a neighbourhood store. She arrived just before closing and bought a gift basket of herbal teas for Mary.

On her way home she bumped into Dianne Goldberg. Dianne was pulling a wagon up the street toward her house. The wagon was full of presents. When they got home Morley ducked into the living room ahead of Dianne and slipped the tea under the tree.

He brought a present. It's in the kitchen. Can we open it? By the Friday before Christmas, Morley had received ten gifts from neighbourhood families, including two baskets of herbal tea identical to the one she had given Dianne Goldberg.

One of them looked as though it might have been the same basket. And then, with only three shopping days left, Morley came home from work and found a small bottle of strawberry-flavoured virgin olive oil from a family down the street she had never met before.

Unfortunately, that was also the afternoon Dave closed the Vinyl Cafe and came home early to ice his Christmas cakes. His plan was to fit them together like a jigsaw puzzle and seal them with a sugar-paste. The man in the bakery said the paste would harden up like marzipan.

When the paste had boiled into a sticky syrup, Dave took it off the stove and began to pour it on his cake. But instead of hardening up, the icing flowed around like lava, pooling in the low spots. It took him longer than he'd thought, but Dave finished icing the cakes before anyone got home. When he finished, he realized his cake was now far too big to fit into the fridge, which is where the baker told him it belonged. The only place Dave could think of that was both large enough and cold enough for his icing to set was the garage.

Ever so carefully he picked the cake up and struggled out, backwards, using his elbow to push open the door. On the way into the garage he stumbled against the door frame and knocked one end of the cake. A piece fell off. Dave headed back into the kitchen.

He set the cake on the table. He went outside to fetch the broken bit, but the piece was not where it had fallen. Dave looked around the yard. And there, heading toward the pear tree, backwards, was a squirrel—dragging the broken bit of cake in its mouth. Dave retrieved the piece of cake. He brought it inside and cut off the bit that he thought had been in the squirrel's mouth.

He tried to set what was left of it back in place. The more he fiddled with it, the more the piece refused to fit. It was rapidly losing its shape. Eventually, using a mixture of honey and icing sugar, he made a sort of cement and glued the hunk of cake back on. He used the last of the sugar-paste to cover the join. It was like masonry. Dave carried the cake carefully out to the garage, the squirrel nattering at him as he walked under the tree. Chevelle - Wonder What's Next Vinyl.

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