By: Darcie Thom

Argh…… shiver me timbers! Just so happens that the 19th day of September be “Talk Like A Pirate Day”, so my hearties, try to keep up!

For all ye scallywags, wenches and landlubbers sailing the green and brown prairies (I know that makes no sense… but play along, ok?!), be aware of the Jolly Roger and the infamous Hempen Halter….. no hornswaggling or ye shall be punished by Keelhaul.

Beware of any pirate who be called scourge of the seven seas, or scurvy won’t be yer only worry, ye will be cursed to walk the plank, visit Davie Jones’ Locker, or ye might hear the words “hang ‘im from the yardarm”. Savvy?!

While the Captain sits at the head (pssst… this is the toilet), the privateers, sea dogs, swabs, and buccaneers are three sheets to the wind on the poop deck!

(Come on guys, basically what I am saying is that the pirates are drunk on the farthest back part of the ship, above the Captain’s quarters, please stay focused here!)

All ye lads and lassies shall be welcomed to join me crew for a helping of salmagundi grub, splice the main brace (have a few drinks), pour a clap of thunder (kool-aid for the young sprogs) followed by a little Yo Ho Ho to ye squiffy folk.

Aye, we can sail Spanish Main, prepare the six pounders (these are cannons, not burgers!) with a good heave ho and run a shot across the bow, like no dock wallupin landlubber has before! That is, after we weigh anchor and hoist the mizzen!

Move smartly, and no other Captain will take our booty (people…. Treasure!!!!!), we will hide our doubloons and pieces of eight for a rainy day, says I!

Ahoy, we have found the end to our journey, right glad I be to see ya, and fair winds to ye!

Interesting…. Right?! Now to get my sea legs back on the ground! Been thinkin’ that a pirate’s life won’t be right for me! Thanks for tuning in!