Author: Allegra

Born when atmospheric carbon was 316 PPM. Settled on MST country since 1997. Parent, grandparent.

On my way to the post box…

I think I have walking pneumonia.  The bubbling and crackling in my chest is quite obscene.

However, I managed to stir my stumps enough to get to the mailbox, and on the way there I met a nice young man wearing a purple and black checked hoodie, who was pushing a purple motorbike up our rather steep alley.  I sternly asked him if he was stealing it and then asked him if I could help push, which help he accepted gratefully, and I only had one coughing fit.  We got it where it was supposed to be and I continued with my errand, arriving home from the minus 4 weather wheezing like an old lady and coughing when not wheezing.

It’s jeezly cold out there.

Jeff’s off to one of his customers, and he’s bringing me foodicles on the way home, so I am happy I don’t have to go out again today.

I got word back from the energy company – they sent a lovely email (like, the only company so to do…) saying they’d chosen another candidate.  Hey, the response was reason enough to want to work for them…. and I found another job I really liked on line today and tried to knock the application out of the park.  I also got an email asking me if I wanted to work from home for a decent wage; we’ll see if it comes to anything.  I’m certainly not going to hand over my personal info without a personal interview to go with it.

We shall see, if we’re lucky anyway.  Despite everything, I am feeling cheerful, because there are people who love me, and the anti-racism workshop is getting off the ground, and I’m writing every day, and Margot has perked up (although she’s right noisy when Jeff’s away!) and I have a dishwasher, which I should finish loading and run, seeing as how Jeff is being so kind as to fetch a chicken.

 

Walking pneumonia

I have bubbling and crackling in my chest and when I cough I feel like a tectonic version of Camille. I slept about 12 hours yesterday, which is about double my normal 6-hours-no-matter-when-I-fall-asleep.

Another 350 words after I thought I’d wrapped it up for the day yesterday; I sure am having fun.

Margot seems to be off her food and a tad listless, but she was happy enough to chase after a treat last night so I’m not sure it’s all that bad.  I think the cat food is a bit rancid, it sure smells that way. But of course if cat food smelled good to humans, that would be kind of weird.

 

 

Superb owl over this year

That was a righteous shellacking, was it not?  I turned off the game at half time.

A thousand words yesterday.  I don’t seem to be having any problems making word count.

Church was pretty sad yesterday.  Two long time members of the church are facing their last illnesses, and I know they are old but I love them both dearly and it’s just sad to see how their wives are bearing up under the strain.  Also, one of my favourite church members has cancer and another one is also going for cancer treatments.  Ack.  Make it stop please.  At the same time church was pretty awesome; the service was about the life and work of Bruce Cockburn.  Night before at the housefilk I said, “Well I can’t imagine them playing “If I had a Rocket Launcher” in church” and I was wrong!  How Peggy and I giggled about it afterwards.  Congratulations to our minister for daring and being all she is. Thanks also to Marylke for the ride home.

I practiced for about an hour yesterday.  It was a bit painful because the con crud finally set in and I’ve got a ghastly dry cough. I will probably head out to the pharmacy today to get something to kill the cough, or maybe just load up on Throat Coat tea with honey.  I went looking for cold meds and everything was time expired by 12 months.

Welp, that’s enough for now.  I’m heading back to sleep, after another broken night.

Here’s a lovely version of Danse Macabre.

today, church and other things

I’ve got to deal with revision 5994 of Mt. Washmore,

Yesterday I baked banana bread (with orange zest, cardamom and almond butter, lordy but it was good) and took it to the house filk at Tom and Peggy’s, which was so poorly attended nobody else was there so I called Rob (who apparently is not getting my emails, which is troubling, especially since he doesn’t have either text or voicemail enabled on his phone) and he came by with pie.  We ate Reuben sammiches, stir fried veggies and green salad (and it was om nom nom) and sang and played. I am now apparently part of a group called Harmonic Anomaly, or something like that, and we’re going to sing songs that need lots of harmony and provide same.

 

I woke up super early this morning

So I took out some trash and put salt down on the back deck so Jeff doesn’t skid down on his ass, cause it be icy out there.

Jeff is off to Victoria this morning. He will be watching the Superb Owl with pOp.

Otto is back from the shop. I paid because it was the only way to get him back, cause I’m not giving them another crack at him. I am very unhappy with the results, and super unhappy with the tech, who didn’t even restring the mandolin properly. The world is full of competent people who only fuck up when I’m their customer, and I’m in line to receive customer service from every last one of them. It is my karma for all the exceedingly crappy service I’ve given to others in my life, I suppose. At least the Mac came back genuinely repaired, although the new layout of the function keys is going to take some getting used to.

I wrote 3200 words yesterday. Don’t know if I can meet or beat that today, but mOm isn’t complaining, as I’m basically forwarding everything to her as soon as I write it. I need to completely finish that scene and then I’m off to the hardest scene of all….

Housefilk at Tom and Peggy’s this afternoon to evening, happy sigh. I’m getting a sore throat but I’m going to load up on Throat Coat tea and fluids and vitamin C.

 

Let it be

Today I read on Making Light a gloss on, “What if my problem isn’t horses or zebras but COCONUTS!” which is the kind of multiply memetic comment makes tiny aweggabrain go A-squeeing.

Here’s the post that comment followed on. Some language, but dayyum it be amusing.

The dishwasher is running, the bathtub is shiny, and now I’m going to push some crud into corners until it’s time to go pick up my Mac, which went into the shop a couple of days ago, and which, on top of Otto being in the crankenhouse, is entirely crazymaking.

I didn’t know that the Germans bombed London from Zeppelins during the Great War.  There was a very cool program about it on the PVR and I’m hoping Rob, who is a bit of a Zeppelin fan, comes to watch it before we delete it.

I have slowly started making progress towards winding up the paperwork side of the cafe.  I am no longer feeling mired in anxiety and anger and despair; now it’s more like, “Welp, gotta fix all this if I’m going to blow all my retirement money on world travel!” And before the folks become apoplectic, I am hoping just to go to Germany in the spring and the UK in the early fall, and maybe a couple of other places on the continent at other times.  Also I have to update my will, and fix up my burial details, and put together a master plan for if I check out untimely.  Hopefully I’ll get to that shit faster than John did.  ha ha.  not.

 

The why is the (territory) so ….. meme, for Canuckistan

Why is BC so expensive?
Why is the Yukon so sparsely populated?
Why are the Northwest Territories not a province?
Why is Alberta so cold?
Why is Nunavut so unpopulated?
Why is Saskatchewan so cold?
Why is Manitoba so cold?
Why is Ontario insurance so expensive?
Why is Quebec so corrupt?
Why is New Brunswick so poor?
Why is Nova Scotia so poor?
Why is PEI or Prince Edward Island not part of this meme at all as far as I can tell?
Why is Newfoundland so foggy?

Now that was amusing. Your google search results may vary….

Weird dream

Last night I dreamed I went to the house of the man of my dreams and met all 8 of his roommates, pronounced the mess in his house at least 85 percent worse than mine, was introduced to an extremely large and disturbing mechanized sex toy, the configuration of which was like nothing I had ever heard of or imagined, (pleasant anticipation of adult entertainment was replaced with a mounting sense of unease and horror), after which I was given access to a passageway which gave on to my own room at this house, which was empty except for the dresser and the bed, and which disgorged a live rat-kinkajou cross  *I went to the internet, and yes, it DID look like a cross between a rat and a kinkajou, I was right the first time* and a dead hummingbird, which attracted Miss Margot’s immediate attention and which freaked me out in the dream no end because it’s one of the symbols of my parents’ happy household and it was obviously symbolic because as disgusting as my housekeeping is it does not admit of dead chordates.  We posted a lost notice for the critter, since it was obviously not mine, had a very large nude cuddle pile, including with roommates to whom I had not actually been introduced, after which I discovered that all my bags were missing and I was not actually expected to ever get dressed again.  Consciousness beckoned and I returned to it with relief.

Conflikt

I had a good time at Conflikt.  The end. Okay, more details.

Princess Bob taught me to crochet. Cindy fed me chocolate.  Peggy brought me tea.  The Tinneys, all three of them in diverse ways, completely and totally kicked ass.  I got a Darth Vader plushie blanket and a couple of CDs and a couple of pieces of jewelry. I wrote 850 words on my novel.  I fed Lemming steak.  I collected many hugs.  The world is a happy place full of nice people.

Tomorrow, I have to go back to reality and start making lists and getting rid of my mountain of crap.

Yesterday disappeared into Laundry and Downton Abbey

Yes, I started watching it.  Yes, I’m a fool.

This is a pic of two nursing cats who are ‘coparenting’.  It is very adorable.

Thank you mOm for the books that came back with Jeff.

Margot wandered around the house making funny noises a lot while Jeff was gone.

I think I need to go see an eye doctor.  My right eye has underproduced tears since I was in my teens, but my eye is so dry now that I’m in pain a good chunk of the time – enough pain that I’m not noticing my back or my shoulder.  I think today I may get an eyepatch, just to give my eye a break.

 

This is a simply adorable series of family pictures.

 

Who cares what I dream?

It doesn’t mean anything.  But last night Lady Miss Banjola grabbed an overly officious and magically short security guard by the ear and lectured him, which caused him to GO ROGUE and investigate her grandparents’ garage.  Lady Miss B appeared and berated him some more, this time with crunchy swears and him running away to his SUV. Before I could learn what was going on, the scene shifted indoors to a Las Vegas style hotel, and she ditched me at what I assumed was a science fiction convention, because Seanan McGuire shimmied by in a dress of such surpassing sparkle and slinkiness that I was forced to rub my eyes.  I wish I hadn’t, when I removed my fists from my eyes, she was gone, and I was sitting at a table of quite possibly the strangest and least competent MARKETING people I had ever seen.  Not even beer could save me; I woke up.

 

On another subject, Margot slept with me at least until I woke up two hours ago with my eyes streaming and my throat sore.  Yes, the con crud hath landed.