Midnight gift

I awoke last night to the unmistakable sound of Eddie meowing with something large in his mouth. One small nearby thump later and his voice returned to normal. “Yes, Eddie, I see the rat. You’re a mighty hunter. Thank you so much. By the way, you’re soaking wet. Thanks for the late night weather report.” Later, I heard Margot snorting around and discovered her playing with the rat. She paused to barf on my floor, then slowly dragged the dead rat into the small pile of barf. Thanks, Margot. Also, yuck.

Round up of events

Up at 4:30 yesterday, fed myself and Jeff breakfast (bacon scrambled eggs), then fighting with two different printers to get the order of service printed out. Got to church around 9:30, discovered we had a plethora of sound people (after my initial fears) but my karma must have just been to the spot remover, because there wasn’t a single feedback squeal all morning.  I hug them all, those sound sound people.

Lots of people out to church and we had a lovely service talking about how it is normal to be afraid of change, and we have had had a lot (as in far too much for this cowgirl), and we’ll be okay, but we have to stick together and be nice to each other.  I know, a hopelessly Pollyanna-ish take on events, but accurate, and my goodness people were thankful to have everything brought up to date.  We did our absolute best to neither minimize nor dramatize the financial and volunteer crises facing our church.  The minister was in the congregation, which provided some reassurance that the board is coping with this crisis as a unit, which never hurts.

It will be okay.

Then I took Sue to lunch at the Amelia, then I bought lemons, then I made lemonade, then I took it to Tom and Peggy (with special guest Joe, squee, whom I haven’t seen since he made his wife so spectacularly rotund) and I watched them pour concrete and then beat a hasty retreat.  Then I came back to my place and apart from a half hearted attempt to throw food into the microwave for Jeff, Katie, Keith and Paul (had them all over, heart full of happy) I didn’t do another thing for the rest of the day, oh, except take the awning down with Paul’s help.  It was full of insect eggs, so just as well.  Either moth or katydid, I’d have to look it up. I looked at the wind and sky and determined it was time to get the awning down before the weather got wetter or windier.

Now, for nautilus3, a flickrset of Birds of BC. I only know about this because Paul found a dead bird and took pictures, and be darned if I can identify it.  I may need to call on experts.

Eddie let me cut all his nails and he hardly struggled or wailed, and he made no attempt to bite or scratch.  The same cannot be said of Margot, who popped her claws into me the last time I trimmed her.  I guess Eddie is finally getting over his antipathy to me.  If, and only if, I’m sitting on the downstairs couch and Jeff’s sitting there too, Eddie will let me scritch him.  Sometimes.

Sundry and various

Cross posted from Colin’s Facebook.

Cat pee = perfume.  Now we haz prüf!

Only one burning cop car?  Torontonians are so low-key.  If the facebook posts of eastern pals are anything to go by, Toronto’s a farking mess right now – apparently they shut down the transit system, which is questionable tactics.

Bearsneezle! Watch for how loopy the bear is at the end of its sneezing fit.

Camille Paglia overgeneralizes her way into the newspapers again.  I can hardly disagree with her assessment of Lady Gaga though.

Rehearsal tonight with Orange You Glad.

Writing projects:  None at the moment, but I’m transcribing dreadfully earnest Victoria poetry for my mOm.

No pantses

Yesterday at the mall, I watched with goggling eyes as a super hot Asian woman in her early twenties wearing a floaty black dress strode by.  I noticed that she was wearing something sheer, and as I watched her bum disappear into the SaveOn, I realized that my inability to see so much as a thong had something to do with her not wearing any underwear at all.  I rubbed my eyes.

Then I looked around.

I was the only person who had noticed.

I have come to the conclusion that Vancouver IS the best place in the world to live.  Although I’d like to find the putz that bent Ziva’s antenna and chide him.

an open letter to Kash Heed

Dear Sir,

My initial reaction when I learned that the BC Liberals think it’s a good idea to axe the mandatory inquiry after a death in custody was, wow.  No more coroner’s inquests into government embarrassments.  Maybe articles like this will magically go away.

Then I thought, you know, just because I’m a tubby left leaning atheist with queer sympathies and anarchist tendencies doesn’t mean I have to even react to it.  After all, a 51 year old white woman who lives quietly in Burnaby (honestly, my neighbours probably wouldn’t even know I was here if my cats didn’t crap in their gardens, and if my brother’s car didn’t rumble in and out of here twice a day) doesn’t really need to put ‘death in custody’ on the top of her most feared methods of checking out.  I’d just pull out all of my priviliges and a harassed looking lawyer would show up and I’d waltz out of whatever misunderstanding had occurred.

Then I thought, well, sheeeeit.  It’s not like the BC Liberals do 5/8ths of a listless denial about deaths in custody right NOW, so why should anybody care that they are legally mandating what’s happening in truth in the cold light of spring, 2010?

But won’t someone please think of the children?  I tried to think of how an appeal to the interests of children might get spun by the BC Liberals.

There are hundreds upon hundreds of children growing up in BC – and other places, thank goodness – who want to be po-po when they grow up.

They want the gun, the badge, the pulling prostitutes over and getting free blow jobs in cars.  They want the skittery way meth-high teenagers deke down alleyways just before the Tazer comes out.

I kid, I kid.  Really what people want when they grow up wanting to be cops is to be on the right side, to catch dirtbags, to jail pedophiles, to bust drunk drivers.  Nobody who wants to be a cop when they are little thinks about the mental hardships and physical perils of being po-po.

Right now all police departments are having a bitch of a time hiring.  The RCMP nationally is looking to hire 8000 newbies in the next five years to handle resignations and retirements.  Things are so bad that they are hiring – so I have heard – people with known mental illnesses.

So I guess one way of looking at it is that the BC Liberals are canning inquests into deaths in custody as a recruiting ploy.  Come and join our police forces, all those with barely concealed personality problems and contempt for minorities!  If you get a little enthusiastic with a scumbag and he or she dies, not only will you not lose your job, your badge or your benefits, you’ll never have to face the scorn of the public and you’ll be able to sleep at night knowing that it was all a tragic misunderstanding.

Good job, Kash, hope that works out for you and your somewhat tinted kinfolks in the years ahead.  Yeah, I know you were the first Indo-Canadian chief of police in Canadian History, and that you have a storied career.  I just have one last question to ask.  Given that the Chief Coroner in BC is a political appointment given to a retired cop, do you have your eyes on that job after your political career moves away from you?  Cause if the omnibus bill passes, the Chief Coroner’s job just got easier.  That’s what I call planning ahead.

Peace love and anarchy,

Allegra

Brain empty, repost

Keith sent me the following email, so I am reposting it.  The apple don’t fall far from the tree, as a rule.

A Regular Canadian Family.

… Aren’t they cute? Not even remotely.

Check this out: Montreal mafia Don’s son killed

This is so awesome I have to write some of my take on the yarn.
The dead guy is the son of a man named Vito Corleo-excuse me Rizzuto. Vito is doing a stretch in the USA for racketeering, and quote “being present at” unquote the murder of three made men in 1981. Vito is due to be handed back over to Canadian authorities in 2012.
This guy’s Wikipedia page is unbelievable. Apparently the Montreal Mafia is huge. As will be the likely response to the slaying of Nick Rizzuto. These guys have a larger geographical territory than any of the legendary/mythical Five Families, and apparently while nominally under the Bonnanno banner, the Rizzuto rival any Families in money and influence.

The cherry on the cake for me is the fact that Vito may in time be extradited to Italy in connection to- what do I hear? Murder? Nope. Extortion? Nuh-uh. Bribery of public officials? Not even close. Alleged money laundering in the finances of a public works project to build a fucking bridge. From Sicily to mainland Italy.

All we need now is a witch doctor to resurrect Mario Puzo, so he can make a movie out of this man’s story. Or maybe the crew that made Bon Cop Bad Cop could do it.

Holy ^%$! Batman

Debbie forwards this gem from the nation’s capital.  There’s more than enough **** to go around in this story.  Calling something a blowback makes it sound like a rough breeze, not feces at high pressure.

I had an amazing morning with Katie here, doing tech support and getting out of her way so she could work on her song. The tech support was trying to find cabling and making sure the inputs were set to record properly in Garageband.  Later in the day, my date, alas, was overcome by weariness from his exertions feasting a friend the previous night at a birthday bash, and cried off… this after texting me at 8:10 this morning that he was just going to sleep.   People nowadays have no idea how to pace themselves (this of course will cause Patricia to burst out laughing when she sees it, since she knows what an utter lightweight I am when it comes to weekend excesses.)  I sang “The Weekend’s Over” to myself, which cheered me immensely, and then worked my way through “Freedom”, “Wish it was Mine” (how I love that song, and the mad crush that prompted it), and about half a dozen other songs.  Seeing Katie with my guitar in her hands this morning nearly made me hyperventilate with excitement and glee.   I got her to visit this site for strummable guitar chords (which makes songwriting so much easier)  After she left (her dad walked her home), I sat down with the piles of sound equipment I got out for her this morning (the USB midi input cable for the Casio keyboard, the mucho expensivo mic which Katie found since I had no clue where the damned thing was, the second best set of headphones, the Kaossilator and associated cables, the laptop of course) and made gamenoise1, and that’s only a fraction of the extremely cool music I composed today. Getting more callouses on my fingers, seeing both my kids and writing tunes have put me in a very happy mood… and I didn’t cook dinner, I ordered pizza and then made Jeff pay for it.  Tra la la.  Oh, and I watched the boys kill zombies, because of course, Elferd Ito is in the house.  (L4D2, Left for dead 2, bad pun.)