False Creek & home again.

I now know how to get to False Creek by bus.  The “Spit” yesterday (Spits being gatherings of Dunnett fans) was at Monk McQueens on False Creek,  a restaurant I’ve never been too. The service was sort of the standard Vancouver crabby – but the food was good and the view and company very pleasant.  The husbands don’t usually come along – most middle aged men will take a quick one in the ear before spending the afternoon with a bunch of strong willed middle aged women – but one did and he definitely was no wallflower.  AND I got a free button (Gelis is my heroine) which is pretty funny…. but it would only be funny and make sense for you if any of you had read the books. I ate oysters and drank draft Russell’s while the sun moved.  (Yes, technically everything is moving, and the earth is rotating around the sun).

Got a lift home, thank you Ingrid, and then finished Band of Brothers and watched the most recent episode of BSG.  Once again, operating on the theory that you just can’t have enough sleep, I went to bed early.

Waffles with strawberries and sausage for breakfast; barbecued pork chops, new potatoes with chives and sour cream, and fresh asparagus for dinner last night.

We expect to see Keith turn up some time today; apparently he went canoeing yesterday.

I’ve moved the strawberry plants the Luddite gave me to the front stairs, where they will get more light. Although he’s from south London originally, when he’s larding it on thick he goes pure Yorkshire and says things like Look-sure-ee, lass! which never fails to crack me up.  I think it’s a Look-sure-ee that I’ve got strawberry plants on my front stairs.

Today, puttering and laundry and at least one song stuck in Songwriter.  I’ve got some short ones… at this point anything would do.  Of course, the most recent one is Willie P’s Lament.  It’s only a minute long, in its current configuration; I’m quite fond of it. I just wish I could play it and simultaneously get the fretboard fingering, the picking, and the intonation solid.  I’m definitely working on the ‘best two out of three’ theory but I suppose I shouldn’t be too hard on myself, I only wrote it a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t been practicing much.  It was fun practicing it on Wreck Beach earlier – all I can say is my next instrument will be even lighter than a mandolin.

hot hot hot

By noon yesterday it was so hot in the house that I started thinking that it’s gonna be a very hot summer, and time to get a small window fan. By about two, I was sitting with Mike in the Mustang – top down, of course – heading over to Wreck Beach, which was full but not packed, if you know what I mean. Mike brought a UV blocking cabana (made for Spalding, it weighs less than a pound and keeps the sun off ver’ nicely) and then it was homemade music, surf, kids laughing, startlingly vast gusts of fattie smoke, a nice breeze which died around 4 pm, and the goddamned RCMP creeping up and down the beach several times, forcing me to hide my beer, the bastards. Yes, I know, what am I doing drinking on the beach? Well, it’s all part of the ambience. I even went in the water. Twice. The first time I thought that somebody was stabbing me in the feet with icy knives; the second time, basically just to make sure that I hadn’t had a physical hallucination, the icy knives were stabbing in all directions up to my navel. Don’t think I would have done well in Bastogne. Mike and I conversed about a number of things, but it was not a day for heavy conversation.

Left the beach to hook up with the kids to watch Narnia II, but (oh look, Gizmo is sniffing the barbecue in a hopeful way) unfortunately the 7:20 was sold out, so I bought them a snack and Keith headed out to my place with one of my parcels and I hung out with Katie briefly and then headed home.

Left the beach – I laugh to see that effort compressed into three words. I have been climbing a lot of stairs lately because I changed my route to work a bit, so I’m actually in good shape to climb stairs. I just couldn’t because of how hot I was. I stopped five times on the way up those 375 stairs (normally I stop once); but there were people skinnier and younger than me doing the same, so I didn’t feel bad. One middle aged guy (I must have been VERY red) asked me if I was okay and I just nodded. I didn’t push; I just climbed when I could. Got a shuttle bus almost instantly, then made the Big Mistake of the day and got on the 41 instead of the 25. The bus, which was driven by a woman in the first grip of a manic episode (I wish I was exaggerating) went mechanical (speedometer, a no go item), so I get tossed off my nice comfy seat and forced to stand in the blasting heat for twenty minutes until the replacement bus came, which was not a replacement bus, but just the next bus, which already had standees. That’s when things seriously fell apart. It took ten minutes of haranguing on the part of the bus driver (another female, this one justifiably testy but quite sane) to get everybody onto the bus – I lost sight of my bags – and every goddamned stop was accompanied by yelling to allow people on and off the bus. When I hit Joyce Station I learned that the movie was sold out (I was late anyway) and that’s when I met up with the kids (they appeared just as I pushed the door open at the mall, a wonderful feeling) and fed them a snack.

The sun (yes, the sun, I only had two beers) having had a wicked effect on me, I collapsed. Really, I should have had a shower first, but the way things have been going I figured the only way to make sure I actually wash my sheets today is by bringing the beach home with me. Out of courtesy to the other people who use the laundry machines I’m going to shake them out off the back deck first.

My back feels great. I like the sun. I even like moderate amounts of exercise. But the best part is coming home and thinking that I’ve lost a dress size off my butt from the exfoliation. I really love the beach.

Various pieces of news

I have received a piece of very important mail – I am now a card carrying member of the Skinnydippers Club.  Rawr.

And I’m likely going to Wreck Beach today with Mike. Aren’t you all glad, with the great gladness of those who will NOT be required to use eyebleach, that I don’t post pics.

L.E. and Doug made Jeff welcome with yummy food, music and conversation, as is pret’ near always the case (food was nachos and ceviche, using basa, and OMG it was aMAZing), and while we were there, we heard good news.  L.E. has a show and workshop in Ontario in June.  AND her son Corey (whose blog Jew on Jus is blogrolled here) has been made FOOD CRITIC OF THE TORONTO STAR.  That, folks, is the big time, and a BIG encouragement to do what you love.  We didn’t take the car and cabbed home.

A friend of mine has learned that her biopsy revealed “the weirdest looking scar tissue we’ve ever seen, but it isn’t cancer”.

The weather here has gone from rudely damp and cold and windy to airless, brilliant, hot and humid, overnight.  This being the ‘May 2-4″ weekend most west coast Canadians are lining up in front of the liquor stores with only one thing on their minds.

I had a four hour migraine yesterday, during which my poor boss had to clean up some of my messes.  Ow.  And I got COVERED in lint from the blankies in the first aid room.  I am reminded that it is good to have a team, and so I am in a grateful frame of mind.  The migraine is hormones, plus Vietnamese pork stew at lunch at work, plus that chocolate on Thursday. I really overdid it, I could have just had a taste and been okay, but no.  Now I am in the post migraine mood of being sort of bleak and washed out.  I know from experience that sitting in the sun doesn’t actually make my migraines worse, provided I lie reasonably still.  I had better find that 45 sunblock.

It was heavenly to sleep with the window open last night.  Very quiet, believe it or not.

Eddie was sniffing the air from my bedroom window just now.  Mostly I keep the cats out of my room.

I forgot to mention that on Thursday the Luddite brought over (on his bike!) a two foot tall strawberry planter and then he tied my bike seat to my frame with a locking cable, as he said that my bike was now quite secure except the seat.  Watching him putter put me in good heart.

So far most of the people meeting Jeff for the first time (and it’s kinda odd that he never met L.E.) pronounce him very nice.  That’s good, because it’s true.

one thing and another

Luddite turned up late and motored through the leftovers; that was fine, I wanted to watch some more Band of Brothers anyway.  He also brought organic chocolate, which was damn’ fine also.

I can see into the future!!!

Treat your rifle like a gurl…

I sure feel safer, knowing the Border Patrol is on the case.

The seven sins of memory.

Tired

I dunno why – I got 7.5 hours of sleep last night. Maybe watching the Battling Bastards of Bastogne plumb tuckered me out.

This is a very long essay I’m putting here. The guy writing it has been thinking some of the same things I’ve been thinking – but we don’t all come to the same conclusions, and I will have to post “Teaching my Children to Swear” in partial response at some point. Anyway the link is about the lies we tell children. I’m especially impressed by the tone – it’s thoughtful, non-confrontational, and obviously the result of some serious and dispassionate self-examination.

I am still grinning to myself when I think about Gerald’s call. I’m an easy person to entertain.

I downloaded Bejeweled to my phone. Waiting for the bus will never again be so boring.

Saw Asha at the Red Robin in Lougheed last night. Asha’s a total sweetie I met through my church. She just got back from a three week jaunt to India visiting rellies and seeing sights; her specialness in my life has to do with her telling me about Purpose Secondary School so my kids actually graduated from High School.

Luddite is supposedly coming by for dinner this evening.  Tomorrow, I have the immense happiness of going to see Doug and L.E. and introducing my brother to them.  w00t.  So I guess I’ve been having a pretty sociable time of it.

Patricia has been asking me to take Deadwood s1 into work, so I just put it next to the back door so I won’t forget.

The downstairs neighbours were running laundry in the middle of the night.  They’ve never done that before and unless they start doing it more often than once a month, I’m going to ignore it.

Unexpected caller.

The phone rang just as I was headed to bed last night, and it was COUSIN GERALD, whom I had never actually spoken to….

Hello..

Is this Allegra?

Yes, who’m I talking to?

This is Braden’s Grandfather!

GERALD!!!!! I squealed, after the shoe dropped…

He’s in town for a conference, and man, it was great to hear his voice.  He’s not here long enough for us to get together, pout, but it was quite a boost for my spirits.

Heh. I’m watching Band of Brothers with my brother

Seems a little recursive, and somehow, so fitting.

I’ve decided to pass on Jericho tonight – I know, just because the weather is iffy doesn’t mean I shouldn’t go, but I just feel blah – and concentrate on more domestic activities.  Wednesday I’m dining out with Asha and we’re going to do what women have been doing for millennia – chinwag about the hopelessly inappropriate people their children are sleeping with – for all the berloody good it will do us or anyone.  Thursday, the Luddite will appear for dinner bearing too much chocolate.  Not for me, for Jeff.

Look at what the Repulsigans are doing!

I couldn’t put it better myself.

Just in case you are needing to read something.