I keep FINDING things

I am laboriously cleaning my room – the dust is unconscionable – and I have located my Labyrinth poem from 2004 – I’ve never transcribed it and the damned thing is seventeen pages long. I imagine I’ll be revising it most severely all the time I’m transcribing it.

I ordered delivery for breakfast and supper. That said, I’ve eaten more fruit and vegetables today than I have in any given day in weeks (fantastic assorted fruit cup for brekky and an orange and broccolini) and my digestion is telling me that my liver, while not exactly happy, is now much less inflamed and behaving much better.

I made coffee to go with breakfast and learned that if I don’t smother it in cream and sugar it doesn’t torch my gut in anything like the usual way, so that was a pleasant discovery.

I could have gone to Caspell Junction for lunch but once I realized I was actually in the mood to clean I committed. Now to wash bedding.

Jeff is away

He’s off to Saamich.




WISH ALAN A HAPPY BDAY. (He’s our Bowen Island Fren and I already did that on facebook.)

GET MY HANDS ON THAT BASS UKULELE because it is highly weird (John Belushi eyebrows) but so am I! SO I GUESS I NEED TO VISIT PEGGY

CURSE MYSELF FOR NOT GIVING KNITTED EEYORE TO MY brO FOR mOm TO REPAIR! (I recently rescued it from the floor at Caspell Junction and washed it, so it’s ready to be repaired.) (I suppose I could try but honestly when a childhood toy that your mother made for you and your sibling is damaged and she’s still alive, the urge to give it back to her and say MUMMY FIX! is still LORGE.)

PRACTICE, PRACTICE, PRACTICE! REMEMBERING THAT OVFF IS NOT CARNEGIE HALL, BUT EVEN SO. and no I have no plans to go to OVFF because I’m not getting on a jet again; I’m allowed to be honestly disgusted at the entire prospect of modern travel. I mean if I could push a button and end up at Dave’s front door I’d go for it, but a thousand dollars to be herded and refrigerated and lightly starved and jostled and soaked in some mofo’s cologne and chairkicked by somebody’s badtempered crotchfruit and mocked for wearing a mask, and deprived of sleep, comfort and easy access to a bathroom for the best part of a day and exposed to the Arcturus variant of COVID anyway, which is currently ravaging India and has already turned up in Washington state, and then forced to LONG MARCH through YVR, which is a pretty, useless airport and YYZ, which is just so effin’ big, and then an hour minimum on transit or a sixty dollar cab ride all seems more than my wee brain and iffy mood can deal with. But I’d like to be there. I am weak and lazy.

Hullo Dave!

Due to reasons this blog need not hear, he is dreaming a lot these days, and he has been recounting them. They are eerie and ordinary, the way dreams often are. We have been talking about where stories and creativity comes from, and whether dreams draw at that same human well, and candidly, it’s hard to believe otherwise. Me, I haven’t remembered a dream in weeks, and it was benign, thank goodness. There are enough horrors in waking life; I need not experience them at night.

I can’t think of anything else I want to do. Much love to the handful of people who visit every day! I hope you have a simply delightful day, and a tolerable one if delight is not in the cards.