Author: Allegra

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

From PZ Myers’ address to the Australian Atheists in 2012

Science has the power to transform our sense of identity. Some of us are no longer people of the Word. We are no longer members of a special tribe bound together by the words in quaint old books. We are instead the people of reality. We are united by common knowledge, by our sense of universality, and by a commitment to evidence…. The words of my people, of our people, are written in the strands of DNA I find in every cell of my body and the story they tell is clear and inspiring. We are all products of the natural world. Stars died to create the elements we are made of and four billion years of churning life struggled and was born and died to shape us. We are close kin to every human being on this planet, without exception. There is no tribe outside our family and, even deeper, we are related to every living thing on earth. You simply cannot get any more universal than the scientific story of life.

I transcribed this from the video.  Wording is close but not guaranteed to be exactly as he spoke it.

Sunday sundae

Taught myself a dodge for the Em chord so I can now play Uplift, which blew Paul away when I played it for him.  Also taught myself (not that it was hard) the Sublime version of By the Rivers of Babylon.  In the morning, going to pick up Carol for church (her family no longer has access to a car), being publicly humiliated in church and shrugging it off, breaking down in tears lighting a candle for Voyager which is currently on the edge of the heliopause.  Then the new minister’s sermon, which totally included the kids in a useful and intelligent way (wow, for that!!) Then the father’s day picnic, which took place indoors and I’m just as happy about that because I brought no chairs.  Then I remembered to grab something so it isn’t left in the church over the summer.  Then Paul volunteered to drive Carol home and Kathleen volunteered to close (Sue opened) and THAT’S IT FOR THE SUMMER.  Woot.  Then made some food and allowed Paul to bbq some salmon, which was just about perfect, and then met Katie’s beau. I had seen a pic but in person he is strikingly handsome (also unstupid, manners, you know the little things – and brave like hell for facing down our collection of wackos all in one go).  Enough said about all that; let’s just say that he proved to be very food positive and has a large capacity to eat salmon. Then called D. to ask about commercial kitchens – I’ll be setting up a meet with somebody this week.

Now to boring matters like my to do list.  Vacation’s over…..

Casa Shadd

So yesterday around noon Cindy called and after a long phone call I thought screw this noise, I want to catch up in person.  So I drove to her place in the pissing pouring rain and then we sang and played and then we walked to Tops Restaurant where we consumed the specials and Cindy ordered blue Jello.  (MANGATORY SGA REFERENCE!!) I took pics, I was so charmed, but I’m not gonna post them.

Then we sang and played some more.  When I got home Jeff was five minutes into the Tintin movie WHICH WAS AWESOME. no srsly.

Today, looks like it may clear up enough for a pick-a-nick at church and then I’m doing supper for Father’s Day for Paul. The new minister preaches today for the first time so we’re trying to pack the hall, so I’m going to go pick up Carol around 10.  The ever awesome Sue heard that I was doing that and said, “Oh I have to be early for choir anyway I’ll open church!” and I coulda kissed her for that.

Dandy Warhols

They performed most, if not all of my fave songs from Thirteen Tales from Urban Bohemia and it was a great show.  Checking history, we last saw them almost exactly four years ago.  It’s weird going to a show and not drinking.

 

Brief update

I got a good night’s sleep, the proximate cause of Teh Sad is dealt with although the sequelae will continue to reverberate, and I’m going to the Dandy Warhols tonight at the Commodore.  …. after almost ten years of threats I am  writing the script for the first episode of Midnite Moving Co.  I am enjoying Celtx as a scriptwriting tool.  You type like a mofo and it does all the formatting.

Margot and Eddie are getting along better than they ever have.  Sometimes they just look at each other.  Sometimes they jump up for side-by-side scritches.

My FoodSafe cert arrived yesterday.  Board meeting went well.

Back in school

Man, school is so much easier to take when you’re only doing it one day at a time.

Anyway, today was a seminar on starting your own business.  The level of detail and the pace of delivery were such that I only fell into the grip of boredom (and it was fuelled by lunch of course) the once in the midafternoon.  The rest of the time I played class clown in that highly irritating and ludicrous manner which irks Jeff on the occasions I uncork it around him. My idea of a good time is heckling Brian Eno and Cory Doctorow, although I’ve never gotten to do both in one day.  Anyway it was a great seminar and my brain is boiling like Nyiragongo’s lava pit.

Today is the day I should have mowed the lawn.

My mobility has rather surprisingly gone back to being really bad.  My knees hurt. Walking around downtown hurt.

Two of the people attending the seminar were people I knew.  One of them I hadn’t seen in 10 years; she had not gained a pound despite having childer and had not visibly aged.  Seriously.  I was charmed for her but had to resort to the time honored escape of itemizing to myself the one aspect of my appearance which was marginally better than hers by the standards of this cruel nasty culture.  I like to think I’m superior to other people, but all I am is more skilled.

My to do list just expanded by an unknown number of items.  As soon as I hit the little teal Publish button, I’m off to add the items/projects on the list.  And then, into the arms of George Illes, the rattiest of ratbastards, the meanest kind man or the kindest mean man who ever lived, and who is not alive, and who is not a man.

More Katie

Spent a little time with Katie yesterday; we went out for pho and I brought her back here to get the last of her items out of the house.  At this point any of her debris field remaining is now good to go to the recycling.

Today, clean kitchen, run laundry, go to church.  Then maybe some practicing.

It was lovely to see Peggy and the Bean the other day. He is a busy boy.

 

One thing and another

I didn’t get as much done yesterday as I wanted to.  I did hear a piece of news that is still percolating through my system and making me very twitchy and uncomfortable, but it’s not something you go blabbing about if you want to stay friends.

I finally have a decent kitchen compost bucket; I’ve had my eye on it for a while and finally got over to Lee Valley (also bought Katie a decent kitchen knife, since as seems to be habitual in our family she didn’t have a decent one).   I also have a three instrument stand, which is good because I’ll finally be able to SEE all my instruments at once, and I got strings for the Octo.

A great blue heron just flew past my back door.  Due to habitat destruction in the lower mainland they are now nesting all over Burnaby around the lakes.  They used to have a huge rookery in Ladner but the farmer sold the land and all the trees were chopped down.  I’m seeing herons practically every day now.

Batch of biscotti is in the fridge preparatory to the first bake.  I owe Peggy big time so I will show up her place next with treetz.

I had dim sum with Katiekinder yesterday and I’m having something yummy with Sue today, as it’s been an age since I took her out for lunch.  I’m headed down to her place around noon.

After that I’m headed over to Paul’s place for some practicing.  This time we’re drawing up the set list FIRST.  The last session was incredibly frustrating, because the two of us just noodled like idiots.  When Cindy and I were practicing – and I wish that darlin’ woman would return my phone call, except I have a feeling that one of her kids has that phone – we had a set list and we worked the damned thing and even then we weren’t nearly rehearsed enough at the day.

So it’s on my list of things to do.  A Canonical Set List for Paul and Allegra.

I had a dreadful nights’ sleep, but I’m smoothly applying coffee.

I have written out The Wreck of the Margarita.  Also changed the words around.

Lists of lists

Yesterday:

Heaps of Stargate Atlantis, but also talking to the outplacementthingy and the HR gal at Schneider as it turns out I had NOT actually signed everything I was s’posed to, booking appointments, paying bills, getting programs to run properly with the new OS, hanging out with Keith and calling my mother.  Cause you cain’t call yer mother enuf.  I did not actually leave the house yesterday.  But I made cookies.  And cooked chicken and zucchini with black bean sauce over yakisoba noodles (Keith provided the sauce and noodles, I believe to nudge me to make something) and we had leftovers so that’s one less thing to disturb me today.

Today:

Gotta get Buzz set up properly and restrung.  Also buy more instrument stands, hopefully one of those threeway bluegrass ones for three different sized instruments.  Also I am tired of my tuner; I am going to get contact tuners because balancing that black box in my lap while trying to keep fretted instruments from sounding like the wailing of the damned is TOO DAMNED MUCH.  See how low my frustration tolerance is these days?  Ha.

The Grass.  This is exactly the kind of weather that makes grass tall, lush, and impossible to cut.  Lots of overcast and rain off and on with the occasional blinding sunshine.  Very, very occasional.  If it dries out the least bit I gotta do it before it attempts to eat east Burnaby.

Checking with Kathleen that we’ve paid the church rent and figuring out how much it is (it changes from month to month) if we haven’t yet for May. Also getting hold of Lady Miss D for an interview about what it’s like to bake / construct hors d’oevres for a living.  I will probably bake biscotti, it’s such a crappy day, heating up the kitchen with nice smells seems like a plan. I already made Granny’s recipe oatmeal cookies mit chocolate chips this morning for Jeff (I can’t eat them because le migraine keeps whacking me.  I’ve had scintillating scotoma every day for a week now… it’s fraking tiresome although late last week I got visuals I’ve never seen before; imagine rainbow coloured fish scales about two inches across at arms length dancing across your ENTIRE visual field – and it disappeared as fast as it came on thank goodness). I’ve also loaded the dishwasher, taken out the trash and played with Margot, who did not actually come in and cuddle this morning, darn. Her eyes are much less disgusting, the allergies must be lightening up somewhat.

Completely dejunking my head, a la Getting things Done.  I have a program (Thinking Rock) that helps with that.  Considering how many balls I’m going to have in the air for the next little while I need to marshall my time intelligently.

Deal with the exercise issue.  I’m completely on board with Lady Miss Banjola’s recent extremely useful and heartfelt rant about weight loss; what I am not on board with is actually stirring my stumps and getting enough exercise to overcome the fact that my weight is stressing my whole body.  IT AIN’T THE MASS IT’S THE MOTION.  Ahem. As in, the lack of it.

Booking the camping trip in the US in August.  Planning a circuit of the Island.  I have a strong urge to drive onto a ferry and go to Haida Gwaii, and precious little to stop me.

Just last week I was saying how I wasn’t going to go to Jericho any more because it’s so far on a school night.  Now I’m thinking I can do it every week for the whole summer!  Woot! So that may be my evening.

And soon the Dandy Warhols.

I have had precisely four beers since I ‘quit drinking’. What I have learned.  Alcohol makes me happy for about five minutes.  Then it irritates my bladder, fogs my thinking, prevents me from driving or leaving the house, screws up my nights’ sleep, makes my stomach hurt and gives me a mild to moderate feeling of wretched blankness the next morning which coffee can usually shake off.  So for the purposes of keeping tracking June 4 is now my official quit drinking date.  Unless it would be rude not to (a wake, toasting the bride and groom) I’m not going to consume alcohol any more.  Nothing bad has happened in its absence except I’m spending a sizable amount less (like, 200 dollars a month, which is not an inconsiderable amount).