Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!
Treated Katie to brekkie this morning; she came up on the bus and Jeff and I met her at IHOP in New West.
Today it looks like it will be much more clement; it was very cold and damp all night. I got up around 3 when I heard Margot and let her in.
It’s a cloudy, not particularly inspiring day out there, but inside various things are burbling along. I’m reading all my friends’ posts about being at Worldcon in London UK. I am going to register for Sasquan today; it will be much closer than London, sheesh I can almost walk there from here.
I had such a lovely time with her the last time she was here and it gives me something fun to look forward to. She’ll have Katie’s baby to chuck under the chin too, inshallah.
Strangely, though I do collect moose, this morning was the first time I’d heard of this.
First draft of the novel is on track for completion second week of September. Then my mother and I are going to edit the hell out of it, and then I’m going to pay a professional to edit it.
My take for UUs:
Mostly today will be clothes and books. Katie needed her toesies dealt with (she don’t bend so good) so I gave her a mini-pedi, and then worried I’d taken too much off and called her. She said, “Aw, have you been worrying about it?” and I thought, well, no, but I was concerned.
Made word count and then some yesterday. I haven’t been practicing, but I’ll get busy today.
Jeff went fishing yesterday with his buddy Rob and caught a coho – we’re gonna barbecue and eat it today. Hm. I suppose I should see if I have to decap and gut it. (Just check, no thank god)
Charles Brackett’s Hollywood diary is about to be big news; he was Billy Wilder’s creative partner for more than a decade. He is alleged to have recorded Groucho Marx describing Victor Mature: “He looks like something the cathouse dragged in.” I suspect I will enjoy it. Anyway, here’s the article which brought the diary to my attention.
Thanks Jeff for brekkie.
Former rellies in law are encouraging me to move to northern BC. I am investigating, and may fly up there in September. There’s work, but sheesh the winters, and it would make getting to see the parents and grandbaby rather epic.
If the local people of color had decided to have a “peaceful open-carry demonstration”, news teams would show all their brains being scraped off the streets this morning while Fox “News” had a panel of white Republicans discussing “the problem of violent ghetto culture”, and you fucking know it.
A quote from a public defender I know in the US. Ferguson MO is a bad place to be human, let alone black.
She’s going to cut me hair, which is good, as I am a little shaggier than I’d like to be.
Paper and clothing decrufting continues although much slower. Mostly yesterday I watched movies, being Belle (very enjoyable) and the Raid 2 (one of the bloodiest, least apologetic, and most action packed movies evar). We are continuing to watch our way through the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes, which is loads of fun for Brett’s mincing exactitude.
The heat has broken. Apparently it’s quite cold in Ontario now.
One of the finds in the decrufting was Sandra’s promotional pic of her as a clown. It’s up where I can see it to encourage me as I try to pry myself loose of attachment to too much stuff.
Lauren Bacall has also passed at 89. She was slinky.
Miss Margot jumped up on the bed (she rarely snuggles) and curled up right next to me and permitted me to skritch her and tell her she was pretty. (I can’t tell her she is smart, that would be a lie.) She edges her bum closer and closer to my face, and just when I’m thinking she might settle in for the night, she drops a couple of SBDs and jumps down when I burst out laughing.
Truly, I have the cat I deserve.
Later…. she came in, jumped up on the desk and started knocking shit off. Cats are assholes.
I keep finding things to irritate me in the pile of papers. I found an angry note saying “Find cheaper telecom rassenfrassen!” but unless I want to ditch having the internet on my phone at all I will be stuck with paying between 60 and 75 dollars a month. So I can play 2048 on my phone and download books? Sheesh. At least Bell Mobility only kept me on hold for four minutes and the person who answered the phone wasn’t struggling to speak intelligibly.
I need some of this. Mildly unsafe language.
Phase 1 of operation Garage Sale is now complete.
I have cleaned my room. I now have three boxes of papers to decruft and file (and, truth be told, mostly recycle) and then the really, really hard work comes, which is purging my clothes and shoes and costumery and craft stuff AND sorting papers for taxes, all of which is more emotionally draining than room cleaning, although it is less physical ’cause less bending. I’ll be setting up three staging areas in the house, for paper, clothes and items for the garage sale in September. Jeff is supportive but mildly dubious, as the dining room table looks like an outtake from Hoarders. He did yell a most unseemly “Holy shit!” when he saw my room yesterday. Blessings to the friends and family who have been supportive while I deal with my chaos issues and a big shout out to Renée S. for permanently loaning me a Nifty Nabber, which saved my back no end of grief yesterday. Hail Robaxacet.
The word of the day is Jalapeño.
Just after 7 Mike called and said he was walking in the neighbourhood; considering where he lives the only reasonable meeting point is the Oliver Twist. He shouted me a dinner of two beers, the saddest plate of nachos I’ve ever seen (in that it was both burnt AND had unmelted cheese, but of course I ate them anyway, and wings (he had chowder) and lo but how I dread the prospect of the loo tomorrow as I was most immoderate with the jalapeños.
He walked me home; Jeff was still up so we took in an Archer. He just left.
We discussed a Nazi Zombie movie night.
I am a happy woman. It is great to have friends so close.
I took two back pain pills and I feel much better.
I forgot I was supposed to go swimming with Katie today, heavy sigh, but I think I want to stay close to the air conditioner.
I’m trying to do housework, but since bending hurts to the point I’m crying and any other position ‘just hurts’ I’m having a rough go.
Laundry is on. I remember seeing a one act play in Toronto once called Laundry and Bourbon. As I recollect it was extremely funny. Bob Desrosiers was one of the actors in the accompanying one act play, Lone Star, which was also very funny.
The Anne Elk Theory of Everything:
All great things start as small things and end as small things.
Wrote a couple of hundred words yesterday. Edited a couple of sections, which you should never do before you’re done, but I ran some tests on the manuscript, and it’s coming back completely infested with semi-colons AND sentences which start with and, which is a breathless and gormless way to commence a sentence. Rather than a very stern editing, I gaily removed semi-colons for half the day. Should you be required to bury me under a single symbol, make it a semi-colon; it’s the thumbprint of a talkative son of a bitch.
Katie came over yesterday; we went for a short walk and I gave her the last half of the banana bread, not that it would have survived until Jeff got here anyway. I read this article to her. We had a good talk about it.
I tried writing this morning but I’m too distracted and ‘off’. I’m also really feeling my back,
I found out there’s a company that will pick up take out and bring it to you, so maybe the next time Jeff and I have a craving for Switzerland Chicken we can get it that way. They’re also licenced to bring beer. Hey, I will be leaving the house today, don’t worry! I’m thinking of walking down to New Westminster and then taking the bus back to spare myself that hill.
Dara, a filk/fb acquaintance, has rewritten some of Yahoo’s code to make the email groups work properly again. This while making an album and renovating her kitchen. Gumption, SHE HAZ IT.
Tony Stewart ran over (accidentally or not) and killed a 20 year old man named Kevin Ward Jr at a racetrack last night. He’s apparently going to race again today, which I think is the height of cluelessness. This show must go on the sponsors are waiting shit has gotta stop. Unless you’re Weird Al Yankovic continuing to tour after his parents died, that was awesome.
I watched the news, and regular tv, last night. When did all commercials become so sexualized? Why is local news so boring? Then I watched something called 16×9 and just wanted to punch out walls for a while. The story was great but I was so mad it ruined my evening, I just ended up going to bed super early. Syngenta is evil!