Month: May 2009

Still alive

Yet more people have found out about my planned departure and it’s as if it’s the ‘end of an error’ is making people really freeked out.  I don’t want to freak people out. I just want my life back.  Yes, I know it looks like I have a life from my blog, I’m forever doing exciting or at least utterly bizarre things, meeting strange life forms and having thinky-thotz, but I’d like a more interesting life still, and I want to be able to say I did something besides work.  Like create. Continue reading Still alive

Quit my job yesterday

June 19th is my last day.  I’m walking down the road to Jericho Beach Tuesday night and thinking “This is nuts.  How much more pondering do I have to do to know I don’t want to be doing this anymore?”  I phoned Katie and told her, and she provided consoling words.  Then I turned the corner and there was the biggest rainbow I’ve ever seen.  I’d post the pics but rainbows need a good photographer and a hefty lens, neither of which I had.  Then I enjoyed the show at Jericho (Brighter Lights Thicker Glasses, and I can’t recommend them enough) with Peggy (after playing John’s Song and That Godforsaken Hellhole I Call Home), and then came home and told myself I’d sleep on it.  And I did, and I went to my brother and said, “I’m quitting my job today,” and he said “Great!” and then I went in and told NewBoss and then everybody in the building knew and I had a stream of miserable engineers and unhappy techs come by and ask if it was true.

Why?  Because John died.  I knew, after Brian C. quit, that something very fundamental was gone and not coming back.  I knew I was not giving it my best.  And time’s winged chariot is outside my front door honking.  I have an immense list of stuff I want to do and no energy or heart to do it as long as I’m working full time.

Daughter Katie came over last night so I could help her with her job hunt.  I fed her and Jeff chicken thighs in mixed herbs and bouillon, peas, asparagus and tater tots.  Mike came over.

While they were here, Miss Margot jumped up on the keyboards that I have negligently and sloppily left in the living room, and I turned them on, and then Jeff coaxed her into walking up and down the keyboard a couple of times. Katie and I knew, and Jeff and Mike did not, that the keyboard splits and is percussion sounds on the left and piano on the right.  So we were laughing – I laughed until I was gasping for air, and we were all crying and hooting in a most unseemly manner – because she walked to one end of the keyboard sounding like she was trying to compose the climactic piano music for an artistic horror film from the sixties – and then she parked her butt on two keys and just sat there, eyeing us with something resembling resentment and puzzlement, her butt making a chord the whole while, for at least a minute, possibly longer, while Jeff tried everything to get her to walk up the keys.  Then Mike did something that got her attention, and she walked toward the other end, writing a very beautiful and unusual song as she did so, and I ran to get the camera, and all I got was her walking on some percussion and dismounting with a “Bam-dum KISH!” exactly like she was finishing off a comedy sketch.  It’s not long enough to post and the light level is very low, and I’m SCREAMING with laughter and shaking the camera.  I wish I could have gotten the whole thing, it was just about the most amazing thing I’ve seen lately. And it happened in my living room.  Katie, wiping her eyes, said that was the hardest she’d laughed in a very long time.  Miss Margot is a really remarkable animal.  I mean, a cat who eats oatmeal?

You know, if I quit my job, I could train Margot, the clown cat.  I wonder if I can get a false nose fitted for her.  No, some ideas are better left unrealized. Hey, I DID quit my job! But taking a year to train a clown cat, THAT has income possibilities.  I should set the house up for camera operation in every room.  Oh, Jeff!?  Wifi webcam throughout the house?  I know Miss Margot won’t be little and cute forever.

I need a root canal. I hope I can make it through the weekend.  The poison from the abscess is affecting my jaw and tongue.

so many layers of wrongness

Take your kid to work day goes really wrong.

On the other hand, brute force and ugliness DOES work for some applications. Just ask any guy who fixes aircraft.

You’ve gotta be shittin’ me.  This is CANaDA? I just don’t remember Montreal being like this.  Trigger happy anti immigrant cops, sure, but this is ridiculous.  Okay, I’m definitely learning a cop brutality song. Pukka Orchestra’s Cherry Beach Express, here I come.

Barbecue and family ties

Jeff and Paul and the kids and I watched the season finale of CSI, and had a barbecue last night.  It was really great to get the ‘cue out again.  The back yard is still a disaster, but at least it’s flat again.  Paul and I went for a walk and saw some very remarkable houses. Broken marble floor tiles paving a back yard?  This is an odd neighbourhood, but very quiet, and Paul is appreciating peace and quiet right now.

I called Kim yesterday and the house in Burnaby is about 1 week from being  ready for occupancy. Katie’s coming over Monday to help me pack and clean things.

I am not exactly full of energy, but at least I’m not in lying around crying mode, and I consider that an improvement.  Spoke to Ruth last night.  She said a couple of things that broke my heart with pity, but I was expecting it.  Ruth and John had a very special sibling bond, and were always very loving and supportive to each other.  (Well, after they stopped living at home and being teenagers, and we all know what I mean by that.)  And he was her big brother.  I never had one… until John came along. I sure feel like I appreciate Jeff more all of a sudden; it’s showing it in any meaningful and constructive way that remains a challenge.

If there’s anything that can break your heart more than family, I don’t know what it is.

Gizmo went for a walk with Jeff and then decided he found something worth investigating and hasn’t come home yet.

old in laws / que l’on continue

Carrie called last night.  She’s way the hell and gone up in Telegraph Creek, but she’s going to try to make it to the memorial service.  She never got my email and found out from my blog (Gott in Himmel) and had basically been crying for days.    We were young and pretty together; our first children were born within three days of each other; we both loved John although we had damned strange ways of showing it sometimes.  Carrie was married to John for a couple of years and she did date him twice after they broke up.  I had issues with Carrie, sure, but that was a quarter century ago, and now we get along fine, and her last visit was delightful.  I know for a fact Paul would love to see her, or whatever emotion you can feel when you’re alternately numb, bleak and limitlessly sad.

Paul and I and the kids had supper together and then Paul and I just cried for a while.  Keith and Kate are both grieving in their own way but grimly sticking to their schoolwork.  Katie says she’ll be in better shape after the memorial… I hope so. Keith is talking to his dad about it, not me, which I think is a good thing.  There’s no timetable or cut sheet for grief.

I had John’s Fender resonator out of the case last night.  It was in tune… in E minor.

Paul is remembering that the last time he spent time with his brother they played guitars.  They hadn’t been alone together and playing guitars in more years than Paul could remember.