Month: February 2022

I made borscht

I didn’t put bouillon on the shopping list so it’s not very salty (or busting with the flavourful) but it’s definitely soup, substantial and hopefully digestible. Had it for supper last night, Jeff had some too.

There are now two soups to choose from, since there’s lentil soup in the fridge as well.

Jeff told me to my horror that my crow feeding has attracted pigeons. I put a post it note on the back door to prevent me from putting food out until Monday. I do not want to encourage pigeons unless I’m trapping and eating them too. There is interspecies signalling of food deposition – the flicker called the crows yesterday, it was amazing to watch. Buster, being trapped indoors, spends a lot of time watching birdies, both from the kitchen table and from his cat tower in the corner of the living room.

Today I’m going to slow roast some veg.

I hope to continue along with the dejunking as well; I am staying on top of the clothing situation and have been merrily throwing stuff out that I either never want to move again or don’t want to make my estate clean out. Also, changing strings, getting the posture ball back downstairs into the guest room, maybe even practicing.

Oh, the alarm’s about to go to tell me to take my BP and Metformin meds.

Still haven’t mailed Mary’s letter, how I wish those sons of sea cooks at the Post Office hadn’t removed my closest mail box. The next nearest one is a ten minute walk, outrageous. And inconvenient, I never go along that street on foot!  Fuck them assholes. Grr.

One little kudo this am, most recent story. Still working up situations for the new ones and staring fixedly at the half dozen or so other stories I would like to finish and post.

Watched the first episode of Cuphead; I think mOm and pOp might like it, it’s a total blast from 30’s animation; everything from the character to the sound design and the little blips that faux age the cartoon is pitch perfect. Also, there’s one bit where I was screaming at Jeff to rewind and replay, lovely use of the cartoon form.

Hey mOm, this is the bead rondel that is Jesse’s ‘badge of office’ when he is visiting elderly people in his building. The green background is a tacit acknowledgement that he’s a settler.

 

Here’s a sketch of Beaky (Pharos) when he was newly born. The eyes and ‘freckles’ aren’t eyes and freckles, they’re pigment patches (since sixers are made of muscle that can see lol and don’t have eyes like mammals do). He appears to have 4-6 legs but one of those forelimbs is a social tentacle. He looks so adorable here and he’s one of the crabbiest sentient creatures that ever lived, and once you know his history, it’s easy to understand why.

 

I have guitar strings!

So I picked up mando and guitar strings yesterday, which is good, because when I play “Gelis and Niccolo” I am pulverizing my guitar strings, which start to blister and unwind and go dead. So I shall take the guitar tool which the esteemed M. Mike provided and change my guitar strings with speed and ease. Also Otto’s strings because he sounds deader than Beethoven right now.

I actually picked up the ukelele yesterday and played for a while!

Buster is PISSSSSED that he can’t go outside. Then he cries like a sad kitten, it’s heartwrenching. But he’s still covered in scabs from his last failure to carry the field, and he cost Daddy somewhat with this last ear ding, so we are being brutal and keeping him in. We may break out the catnip just to keep him vivified.

After some very disturbed sleep and a lot of napping I seem to be back diurnal, sleeping until four in the morning YAY. I don’t like it when Jeff and I are out of sync, even when he’s working it’s like we don’t talk for a day and all of a sudden we’re eating supper in front of Elementary….

The kitchen is a nightmare but I can’t find the energy to clean it. (actually I just emptied the dishwasher and threw out the cruft, but that doesn’t make a visible dent lol)

Fed Paul and Jeff pulled pork sammies on brown buns, smashed taters and green beans for lunch yesterday. Paul and I went for a brief walk and toured around and got veggies and went to the guitar shop. I drove.  Although I have not spoken to Keith, Paul reports that he’s loving his new job. This heartens me; his recent previous brief foray into employment left him quite disgusted with the state of employers, like that is hard these days.

Arrests have commenced in Ottawa; when the aptly named Lich was arrested and went on social media to complain about how the jig was up I really enjoyed that.

Duly noted here is the dubious morality under which I may be said to enjoy the arrest of the people who’ve been making Centertown unliveable for three fucking weeks (as of today), when I have repeatedly (in this venue and others) stated that I am an abolitionist, and wish for the amelioration and end of incarcerated punishment, except where no acceptable community alternative is possible. I am still the child my parents raised and I enforce the carceral state in my life and my mind and with my words and actions, but I am trying very hard to turn from such darkness.

I would like to state here that at all times during the last 3 weeks the cops in Ottawa have had ALL THE LEGAL DEVICES THEY NEED TO CLEAR THE STREETS and they didn’t because AND YOU KNOW WHY, DON’T YOU, MR. JONES. Anyway there’s something called a riot act. The activities downtown WERE and ARE a riot. FUCK THE GUY ON REDDIT WHO SAID IT DIDN’T MEET THE CRITERIA, HE WAS A FOOL AND WRONG ANYWAY.

Not only is this political cartoon one of the weirdest and creepiest I’ve ever seen, it would get me pushed out a window in Russia and disappeared for three months of reeducation and weight loss in China, possibly longer than that. @listen_to_me is the source on twitter; it’s a cyrillic alphabet account I accessed through following @alexey__kovalev, an absolutely hilarious giant-testicled Russian journalist who keeps running afoul of Putin and his slavering minions.

Image

 

Not much to report

Buster is recovering as fast as cats do; the most recent Call the Midwife literally had me and Jeff on the edges of our seats; I hope to call Paul today and go for a walk, mail Auntie’s letter and maybe do some other boring errand-y things; Russia is putting the finishing touches on its invasion plans for Ukraine; I got a single kudo last night for the most recent story; I partially cleaned out the fridge this morning; Jeff and I did a shop this morning and watched a Time Team afterward.

Have some Margot fuzz.

 

Buster is an indoor cat

Buster had an immense weeping ear infection from a long cat scratch down his ear canal. He’s to be kept indoors and fed antibiotics and gooped for the next ten days. We are both very relieved, and Jeff says he was a brave boy at the vet. He peed in his carrier again, but he does that every time. He’s also up to date on his shots again, so tranquillity abounds, etc etc.

I had to replace ALL the ink in the printer yesterday which would have been even more annoying if I hadn’t previously stocked up on ersatz cartridges and didn’t have to go anywhere or spend any money to make it happen. Part of having ADD is hoarding, and part is being therefore prepared, and the rest is having a million iterations of shit that don’t fit. BUT IT IS OKAY because I finally got Mary’s letter printed and I’ll be mailing it today.

Got my balance ball back and that will make making music a lot easier. I love playing music on a bouncy ball, I can really rock out. While looking like a loon.

Saw Ryker the other day, he’s still an adorable baby with a commitment to sleep that outpaces my own.

Absolutely sweet comment – brief, too – on the most recent story yesterday.

Haven’t received word from Keith about how his first day on the job went.

 

Poor Buster

I think he has ear mites. His ear stinks godawful and of course he’s cuddling up to me to be friendly what with Jeff being gone and I don’t want to go near him, bleaugh.

I have put away every scrap of my clean laundry! Now I’m going to clean off the desk (Suzanne cleaned it off once already but paper cruft has crept back onto it.) Then I’m going to set up the speakers, and bring the chair back in here, and dejunk some books, and then tidy the kitchen a little.

This is Buster with Mike a couple of years back.

a lovely lazy day

Called friends and family, practiced music for the first time in ages, ran and dried a couple of loads of laundry.

Breakfast is leftovers. Red hot leftovers and tea.

Buster seems to have an injury to one ear. Jeff will look at it when he gets home. I cleaned it and he sat pretty for me while I did it. The stench was unconscionable.

Happy Valentine’s day for those who celebrate. I think I’ve commented enough on it in the past.

Remember the BATTLE OF BILLINGS BRIDGE!

 

Looks like another nice day

Jeff emailed me late yesterday with an update and advice to ‘let it rip’ as far as giving Buster his can o’ food. So I fed him about an hour ago. I think he ate the entire can in two goes, it was quite remarkable, his slurpy dedication, although he eyed me each time I passed. I made him sit pretty while I said, “What day is it <<<INTERROBANG>>> SUNDAY!” and put the cat dish down.

Wheat toast and a single slice of havarti and lashings of tea to break my fast. I need to do yet another load of laundry, haul the two clean loads upstairs and put them away. This makes me sad because my clean clothes have expanded like land office gits and now even though there are FEWER clothes in those drawers the clean clothes in the return hamper now need more room like Burnaby developers. I had enough room for my clothes and  I did laundry with gaiety and pride when I had SAME FLOOR ENSUITE LAUNDRY. I fucking hate being considered lazy when the world isn’t made for me, and I’m whipped for it. But this situation is of my own making, so I don’t get to make that argument. Unless you want to actively think about ableism, which at the moment, I don’t. And then…

My INCONTINENCE UNDERWEAR arrived last night. I’ve been tracking its approach with disquiet, for Apple Delivery said they were going to get it to me by 9 pm Saturday. Some (statistically, most likely a) dude is not getting a Saturday night or very likely a union paycheque to bring me something that will bring positive peace of mind and negative trails of urine. But such watch? the timing?? I’ll have to get out of bed to get it? ooo  I did in fact pull the plastic wrapped package off the porch in the dark, having checked less than an hour previously. (This was about 8:10 pm.)  Almost a weeks’ worth of underodoureater – must say they are not exactly Wonder Woman like. I fancy I could break the internet, in some tiresome way, if I posted pictures. I quite like the colours and the style. There’s a misty twilight colour but of course I wore the black one first because I only buy beige and navy so I can claim not to wear black all the time (that’s a lie – my tshirts are hella colourful – but a point about my evasively inadequate couture is being made.) Confidential to mOm:  (I chickened out and sent it to her directly – the internet’s forever)

 

This is a poem called the nap

The resonant horn blowing up from Sto:lo tells the city to rejoice in the sun
There’s fog downslope, lain across the last few metres of ground, and tugs avoiding
Each other.

The river is still high. You can sense the irritation of the animals set to breed.
All stark the colours and straight the lines, urgent business.
You want to get out of the woods.

Crows are nesting already. They trim the dogwood, their accustomed favourite
For all its benefits. How it, springing new under their depredations seems to
Visibly laugh as it blooms, and blooms, and most years blooms again,
To mock the crows, even as it roosts them,
an excellent host this morning against a muted sky.

For once the neighbours across the alley aren’t building things. Their silence
Unnerving and unexpected. I myself have been wailing. I fancy myself
Quite expert on the kazoo. If I flatter myself, I’m not asking anyone else to.
All of that’s a relief. I keep trying to attend to things but I see myself
Eating and sleeping a lot, and maybe that’s okay. If I stay awake I’ll be
Angry at the world or angry at myself, and those choices seem so bleak
Asleep is what I’ll be. It will be another beautiful day,
And I’ll sleep through it.

——-

er… this poem is a mood, it’s not real, I have plans for today and I’ve already run the dishes… I have strange ideas in my head again, I want to go back to a previously energized project. I have to fight this sloth – it’s a very big, very claw-y Ground Sloth, and the fact it’s extinct does not appear to be impairing its efforts to impede me! Have at you sir! Ow! I can’t continue to pretend I’m blogging, if that indeed is the best description of this onanistic activity, when I’m being assailed by a Ground Sloth the size of a mini bus and fucksticks did I mention his claws already because that really should be close to the top of the in box if you know what I mean, okay, bailing now, hope this fucker doesn’t show up in your reality because he went through a custom door frame like it was fucking balsa wood and fucker left two wheelbarrows of shit wish I was kidding in the house already. Being in confined spaces makes him shit, okay great I feel like Chuck Darwin now.

er… I’m not actually floridly psychotic now I was just riffing on how easy it is for a person with ADD to be seduced by another project. Why, what did you think I was doing?

feetsball

pOp and brO are going to watch the pinnacle of sportsball this weekend, yup Jeff is going to Victoria this am and will be back Mondayish. Just a reminder that most sports fans are still reeling that the Beagles, Bugles, Bungles and Bangles (as the Cincinnati Bengals are variously and humourously called) were never expected to get this far…

One little kudo this morning. I’ve been plugging away on stories a couple hundred words at a time. Very close to being finished Mary’s letter, hope to mail it today.

a middle aged white woman with medium length hair wears a long, long-sleeved black dress and bare feet

 

this dress, which I bought about ten years ago is now so full of holes and so washed out that I can only wear it as a housedress, is still one of my favourites. I do like cotton knit as a something to make garments from.

I would like to read a newspaper headline through your breast

Said the mammogram technician. Anyway, I have booked one for May, and it’s relatively local, so all is good.

Why isn&#39;t there a more comfortable mammogram procedure? - Harvard Health

Yesterday I did two loads of laundry, and thanks to Suzanne the bathrooms are shiny again. She’s settling into her new apartment at Kingsway and Gilley (SOOOO CLOSE) and is probably going to get Alex for an overnight soon, when her apartment’s all shoved back into corners. Katie helped her assemble all her computer-y stuff like a boss.

Slept FANTASTIC. Went to sleep just after 8, woke up around 4. I may not nap tidday, boys!!!

Jeff bought me a burger and shake from Wet Spot, and it was fantastic.

I am very close to being finished writing Mary’s letter but I think it should be at least another couple of pages longer.

No kudos this morning… what a sap I am. One must be motivated from the inside.

Recent uproars on the internet:

person 1 – I ain’t taking my shoes off in your skanky ass house cause your floors are heinous and I don’t give a shit about your cultural constructs appears magically on line. THERE ARE OPINIONS

(this is all part of the editors in NA on line venues looking for ways to shit on Asian people during the Olympics, how rude)

person 2 – I ain’t putting up with your skanky ass shoes in my house because you fucking people walk through broken glass and dogshit and then march all over my new laminate floors and you laugh when I point out the scratches

person 3 – (allegra) I brought orthotic slippers to help me keep my feet warm and keep my balance, if you prevent me from wearing my indoor slippers you’re an ableist fuck and I ain’t enterin’ your skanky ass house (I didn’t actually say this, I never found a venue, so here it is on my own site) and if your floors actually are dirty I won’t fucking care but if there is a shrine in the house of course I’ll take my fucking slippers off do you think I’m a clod, deaf to the songs of the gods?

Vocabulary review: skanky – cheap, dirty, slutty, low-rent, low-class; – ass – added for emphasis.

Got a comment hijacked by a comment bot on Reddit this morning. Didn’t even notice until someone picked it out of the crap pile for me. It’s one of the funniest lines I ever wrote so of course some witless algorithm steals it.

Jeff and I are continuing to enjoy Peacemaker (it is rude, it is funny, it is freaky, it is scary) and Leverage (well written, clips along, very very formulaic and light hearted, which compared to the grimdark we watch most of the rest of the time is GOOD).

Have some Ice from Iceland to go along with today’s fog. It was 5 degrees and rain blowing horizontal, if you wonder why it’s so dull, almost four years ago, May 2018.

Spoke to Peggy

She is doing about as well as expected. The sons can’t help her clean out the house as much as they like because they are householders with children themselves and it’s a lot.

However she’s lined up someone to do the clearout if they can’t, and she’s moved out one tenant (with sadness) and is moving in her son and daughter–in-common-law and their kids (with happiness but it won’t be for a few months) and a different other tenant instead (her house is beeg) so she’s moving downstairs (less stairs, better for her knee (and of course there’s a full bathroom downstairs so no problems there). I approve of all these shifts and changes. I can’t imagine rattling around a house that size without other people.

an elderly cis white woman stares vacantly, jaw hanging open, at the camera
an elderly cis white woman stares vacantly, jaw hanging open, at the camera

I sent this to my mother when she said she’ll just be staring at me the next time I visit.

I changed my bedding!

I restuffed my bolster after washing the cover and tied off the ends and now I am very comfy in bed; the weighted blanket is folded at the end of the bed so I can use it to raise my feet.

Suzanne came late due to my communication error but is here now beating bathrooms into shape.

My next assault on adulting consists of booking a mammogram. Ai Yi. Next doctor appointment February 23.

Suzanne is here today

I missed her. I’m continuing the clearout / reorg of my room. I have a nice long list of things to do today and after my absolutely wonderful night of sleep I think I’ll start with washing my bedding… Nope I’m going to make myself some brekky, eggs I think. Also reheated the fries from the fish and chips the other day. SO GOOD.

3 kudos in my mailbox this morning, all for the most recent story. It really landed well, the kudo to hit ratio is like 1 in 6, which is amazing (it usually ends up being 1 in 10 or 1 in 15). I’m tucked up in bed working through chapter subjects for the next story. I can already tell this new story is going to be book length, I have too many ideas. I want to finish the ‘tree man’ story, the story about the single dad with PTSD from being a respiratory technician during a pandemic, the story about the flooding in November, the alternate universe decameron style story, the massage therapist story, and I think there are three other incomplete ones but I can’t remember the hook.

Poetry is slowly stirring inside me. I’m either going to keep working on the Dark Book or write about allergies.

The siege of Ottawa continues. The siege of Coutts continues. The Ambassador Bridge Siege continues. Fuck ’em all, all those flag flying fools.