an imaginary gift for my mother


It’s an archaeologist’s kit.

My mum just finished and sent off to me four, count them, four family projects.  One is a family history book about the Mennonite side of the family, one is the survival book my mother’s mother wrote (notes – really – that got turned into a book), my forebear’s (not lineal) book of copied out poetry, and my unca Barry’s book about his family’s adventures in Reunion Island.

What a haul for me and what an incredible amount of work by her.  Jeff and Barry and I believe Mary assisted with it, and I did transcribe some of the poems although I gave up and handed it back to mOm before I was completely through.  I just found the poetry so Depressing.


Anyway, mOm in another life you would have been an archaeologist, so I hope you like your kit.

Carrie’s in town

Paul (streaming nose and all) and I feasted her at the Mad Greek in Richmond last night.  She’s debating, having broken up with her most recent beau, whether she’s leaving Haida Gwai’i for the lower mainland or Victoria.  She’ll be closer than Haida Gwai’i either way so that’s okay with me.  Her kids are all doing awesome, which was lovely news; for a while there, much like me, she was getting heaping helpings of disappointment and fear of the future and all of that appears to have resolved.  I was a tad resentful that I didn’t get a ride home as I am now underslept and exhausted. (Paul stayed for a soak in the hot tub at the hotel, and while that was great for him I’d had WAY too much to drink to borrow his car.)  Fortunately the hotel was close by a Skytrain station.

I am working on a song for Apophis. And the rest of the system lords.  Hathor’s demise was particularly welcome.

Why won’t you die X3

You bastard

Apophis was a god of note or so the legends say, til SG1 got up his nose and elseways in his way, they tried to kill him a hundred times and each time he survived, you should have heard me shout for joy at the start of season 5.