I went on an’ on about dead people in my life

And somebody in my life was dying and I didn’t do anything about it but exchange emails with her less than a month ago.

Farewell Jenise.  I am very sorry for the pain and suffering you felt in your life, and if there’s one good thing about your death it’s that you’re no longer in physical pain.

I should have gone to visit her.  I wonder if I’ll ever get the lesson.  The last time I saw her was in 2009, and I fed her.  I thought it was a couple of years ago and then I searched for her name on my blog and feel crushed all over again.

 

 

John Caspell would have been 63 today

He was taken from us too soon, but it was still a privilege to know him.

And Elizabeth.

And Sue.

And Derry.

And Michael.

And Glenda.

And David.

And Bareld.

I don’t mourn for the aged dead, who went when they were ready.

Today is a day for fasting from social media and contemplation of mortality.  But only for a bit; I still haven’t completely mucked out the kitchen from Thanksgiving and I’ve got a piano lesson today at one. I’ve other chores as well.

 

Balloons go up until they come down

The ongoing crisis looms a little closer to North Americans.  Sell your Airline stock. I’ve asked Paul to retire.  Or to consider it if and when we get an Ebola sufferer coming through town via YVR.

Katie is having a rough go, poor lassie, not getting enough sleep.

Turkey soup is bubblin’ away.

Jeff’s at work and going to bring home treats.  I am going to curl up with Thomas Piketty.

 

Alexander’s First Thanksgiving.

Comments having nothing to do with Alexander:

Margot likes babies.  She doesn’t even leave the room when they cry.  Every time I think I know my cat she reveals unexplored depths of character and personality.

It was so good to feast the folks, including Mike and Casey.  The meal consisted of (because mOm will want to know, not because I am a food porn type): Roast turkey stuffed with parsley, one head of garlic and a lemon, boiled and roasted yams, brussels sprouts parboiled in chicken stock and sauteed in butter, sauteed parsnips, iceberg lettuce salad, stuffing made in the crockpot (sadly lacking onions, but still damned good), boughten cranberry jelly, homemade gravy and possibly the worst – the most gluey and lumpy – smashed potatoes I ever made.  Everybody else ate them so it’s not like they were inedible, they just weren’t choice.  Absolutely no sweets, but white and red wine, plus beer, to go with the meal. I did promise Paul his mother’s lemon snow recipe for dessert but that will wait for our next meal together; he very kindly did veg prep and ran people ’round town and brought wine glasses and suchlike, for which I offer thanks and praise.

Keith got off work early; Katie turned up around 4, so we all sat down together around six.

The carcase, less the sandwich making leftovers, is in the stockpot; I made beef and bean burrito fillings yesterday as well, so I don’t think I’ll have to cook for a while, yay me!  I mean apart from deboning the soup ingredients.

Around 8 Katie got toothpicks, and Casey was in the same boat, so Paul took them home.  For another hour Mike, Jeff, Keith and I sat around downstairs and watched Archer, and then since the boys both work in the morning, off they went.

It was not a spectacular meal, but it wasn’t one that anybody else in our group would have WANTED to cook, so I’m glad I stepped up.  After I could sit down, I had a lovely evening.

 

And Alexander was there.

 

Alexander disapprovesHappy Grandma

Walk in the sun

The boys of Planet Bachelor were here yesterday; Keith watched some Archer with us and Paul took me for a walk in Oakalla and consumed cake (I made some more chocolate cake).  The walk was simply lovely, and took place in the only block of fair weather we’re going to get for the next few days.  Keith is considering getting a pufferfish.

THANKS TEXAS YOU RATFONDLERS. Ebola is in the news and you sent a man with a fever who had just returned from West Africa home. ZMapp is a long way from commercial production.  A million dead by January 2015, and everybody from the WHO on down lying; the only people I really trust to report with any candour are Medecins Sans Frontieres.

2020 says ha ha fuck you

 

Haven’t heard from Katie, but I imagine the babymoon is continuing quite nicely without me. Keith will go see her and Alexander today and make the acquaintance of his new nephew.

Divine decadence

I love my friends.  Mike took me out to dinner (lamb) and pummelled me until I felt a lot better.  I had no idea I was sore! He told me about some of the stuff that’s happening at Schneider and I laughed quite immoderately.

Check out this example of divine decadence, being a chair shaped like a scorpion.

REALLY glad I mowed the lawn yesterday; the rain is going to last 5 days.  So the place won’t look like an abandoned house when we have guests on Monday.

I have a big table for Thanksgiving. My immediate fam in town plus two orphans. (Neither of whom are technically orphans). This totals 9.  We are going to eat like FOOLS. Really looking forward to it, even if I’ll be trapped in a tiled cell with a dead bird for a day.  There will be parsnips.  I found a crockpot recipe for stuffing that sounds nommerful.

 

Did you ever get the feeling…

Batman and Dilbert are spying on ya?

That central Africa would like to drop out of the headlines for a while?

That Kim is Dead?

That I have the wrong hobbies?

That every time you think racism can’t stoop lower….

That you simply cannot have enough hats?

That the answer to this question is frustratingly obvious?

That even when the science is reported correctly, the language used to describe it is so 20th century centric that you want to smash the journalist into roadpaste?

Tonight I’m heading over to Mike’s place for music and mayhem of some description, hope it’s low key.

Natal Tarot

The Natal chart is Nine Cards formed up in a tree of life:

Father (or father’s family) – 5 Pentacles

Mother (or mother’s family) – Queen of Pentacles

Family (of birth or adoption) – 8 Swords

Health – Ace of Swords

Longevity – Knight of Pentacles

Occupation – 7 Pentacles

Contribution – 6 Pentacles

Need –  The Magician

Life Motif – Ace of Wands

 

This is the life flow of a practical, not particularly talkative or  spiritual individual who may be depended on to work hard, show up, be kind and jump in where others hesitate.  He will rise above family disputes when not called upon to broker them.  His longevity will be determined by his habits, but he will tend all his life to be old-fashioned, and to enjoy the work of those who have a lot to teach him.  I see someone aloof and kind, intelligent and unimpressed by book learning, glitz and laziness.

 

 

 

Trivia

I know I shouldn’t care, but the last episode of the Killing made me want to find the showrunner and bang her head into a coffee table a few times.  A happy ending was NOT REQUIRED for this show, it feels a painted on thing.

On the plus side, by Grabthar’s hammer, I have finally seen Galaxy Quest, and I had a damned good time.

Now to see if Jeff is conscious enough for breakfast.

Pic

mOm will get more of them, but here’s one.

 

Grandma laughing.  That’s me with 4Hr Callback (a perfectly acceptable nickname for a kid who made his appearance after 4 hours of labour) and his exceedingly mellow mom.  The delivery room nurses, when she left the hospital at 8 am on Monday (literally the soonest they would discharge her without putting a big fat AMA on the chart), told her that she had no right to look like she hadn’t just given birth.  Apgar 8 and 9 and a solid feeder, although still quite sleepy.  He has the least annoying cry of any newborn I ever heard, and only demonstrated it to show he could do it, as far as I can tell.  A solid, well-fleshed child, the image of his da.

 

DSC01343

Round up

Now that is a very nice use of the gif format.

I haven’t seen Alexander yet.  Katie called yesterday and she’ll call me when she’s ready to receive visitors at home.

This infographic on prayer made me alternately very uncomfortable and amused.  As an atheist, I can’t separate prayer from ‘wishing so hard that you’re practically grunting so that an imaginary being of its infinite kindness rearranges causality and the laws of physics for your personal benefit’.  As a church lady, I have to say I understand the benefit of GROUP prayer, which is a form of prosocial entrainment.  Personal prayer, the petitioning kind unencumbered by meditation or humility, is just plain gross.

Somebody on Reddit said that Gilbert Gottfried and Fran Drescher “should have children. The marines could use them to clear public areas.”

Stop motion parkour fight. I laughed out loud watching this.

The pet relationship is very important to humans and now of course we have the science to prove it.

Dealing with bullies changes with the technology. Professors deal with bad reviews.

Am I jealous because the last time I was catcalled I was 36?  No, it’s one of the best damned things about getting older.

Gosh, if only dealing with conspiracy nuts was this easy. Cause it really isn’t.

Two births in one day

I know that sounds strange, but it’s true, and I can’t really talk about the other birth; it’s a creative birth, happened right in front of me, on line, in real-time, and I was a midwife.  And that sounds very self-serving.  I will be still and just post part of what I wrote for the occasion.

 

being a bard

you write even when your heart

can’t be in it

the people depend on

the story and song you bring them

without story the people die

and without song

they don’t remember the story

;

the bard can’t always be there

.

facing illness

rejection

ill-temper in others

and whatever griefs and shames

and inversions of purpose

may be the bard’s

forward

!

you think you have

a dry stick in your hand

you strike the earth and water comes up

and you have a hand on a tree

and sun in your eyes through the leaves

.