Category: Church

I am a Toddler – 2 of 50

Glitter and dirt
Hugs and destruction
Tears that will dry as I laugh
Booboos that hurt
Squeals of affection
I am a toddler
I’m here to learn
And if you can’t help get off my path.

I am a toddler and I like my boots
But I will not like them tomorrow
Guessing at meanings and playing with words
that cause my folks wonder and sorrow

Parents:

“Will she say F*ck I love it in front of the grands?
Or that the big wind will breathe her away?
Will he curse at his boots and make silly demands
Returning relentlessly every day
To eating non-stop and most int’resting play
And only a fever puts toddlers away
and not even then if they’re stubborn today
and they’re stubborn ‘most every day.”

Glitter and dirt
Hugs and destruction
Tears that will dry as I laugh
Booboos that hurt
Squeals of affection
I am a toddler
I’m here to learn
And if you can’t help get off my path.

 

I don’t think I’m headed to church today.  There’s so much smoke – I could see it coming in last night and tinting the moon – that it’s not a good idea to be outside and apparently the service is to be held outdoors. 

 

New Horizons went into Safe Mode last night.  I’m not feeling good about this.

 

520 words yesterday.

Wreck

Mike brought the UV shelter, without which I would have fried to a crisp.  I had a presentiment not to take Otto, so I didn’t.

It was a lovely day, trickily overcast, but lovely.

After the rather exhausting trip up the stairs Mike turned the aircon on in the car and what a relief that was.  It was even hotter on the beach day before yesterday; I can’t imagine Katie hauling Alex in the frame backpack up those stairs, cazart, but she did.  I haven’t even got out of bed yet so I don’t know how bad it is… my back, strangely, doesn’t hurt.  Anyway I didn’t skip leg day yesterday.

Also 300 words before I left.

Rozo has a gorgeous apartment across the street from Pacific Spirit Park.

David H at church passed away on Thursday and the announcement came yesterday afternoon while I was on the beach.  He was an intelligent, kind, highly musical, funny-dry-droll, heart centered man, and my heart aches for his lovely family.  Normally you don’t die of prostate cancer, and it’s just so damned sad.  He had a gift for congregational accompaniment that I likely won’t hear in this life again.

 

Justice is what love looks like in public

Here’s another take on the Flag of the Army of Northern Virginia.

Three hundred words yesterday.  I really kinda did take the weekend off.

Yesterday I went to Mike’s AGAIN for lunch and he fed me andouille sausage with red pepper and asiago and the salads we had yesterday.  Then we exchanged body work (for me my back, for him some muscles I can’t pronounce because his martial arts training as a 20something included snap kicks which literally pulled the femoral head out of its normal spot and he’s got pretty much permanent pain 20 years on, plus he had a family meal Saturday and it was a cascade of underslept monkey vs. weasel family meshuggas). Then we napped.  Like adults do when they are two beers drunk, well fed and laying about in the sun. Mike hadn’t slept for an atrocious length of time and he was much refreshed.  Then I got up and rode my bike home (it was around 7 pm) and it was deliciously cool since it was mostly downhill, and then I asked Jeff if he wanted to go to Sunset Beach with us (he was too sleepy) and I grabbed Otto and Mike grabbed his parlour guitar and we traded instrumental and lyrical songs and addressed the bay while the sun went down, and the light made rippling rows of Loch Nessie clones roll up and down the bay. We toasted each other in beer in plastic cups. I thought of John, and how proud of me he would have been for all the song writing I’ve been doing, and how he would have laughed his ass off at the books I’m writing, and mocked me roundly for my many errors and just how jeezly much I miss him.  I will never hear him wheedle me again “Dear sweet, kindly, agreeable sister in common law…” when he wanted a haircut or some assistance wrangling his succession of massive and inconvenient cats.  Then mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds silently arose from the ground and swarmed me and we fled to the exceedingly conveniently parked car, because Mike’s parking-fu is of a calibre to excite the comparison “Magical”.

For a while our only audience was a Canada goose, who booked it when a dog named Jack got too close to him, and a pair of mallards, who sat right at our feet.  I knew they were hoping for schnacks but still it made me feel good, as did watching a pair of herons fly over 4th Avenue. Then other people sat down without crowding us so we had company.   This is the weird bunch of signs from behind where we were sitting.

IMAG0968_BURST002

Going there we went through Richmond, and we didn’t hit a light until we were were on Granville. Going back we went through town and we counted the number of pot dispensaries on either side of Kingsway after Main before Boundary and there were four on his side and three on my side and one hydroponics shop.

Then he took me to Phó Boi and I had a small number 3 and ate ALL of it. An insanely attractive interracial couple was having their first date at the table next to us and Mike and I tried to drown their inanities out with soup slurping, but there’s only so much you can do with the audio when the man next to you is mansplaining how he doesn’t know how to order phó.

Mike was shaking his head as we left.  “Phó for a first date is a terrible idea.”

In the morning yesterday I was in church, Sue came and got me, and John H. was there, first time he’s come since Anita died, and we many of us wept to hear him mourn her, and Debra, who has her earned her bread with us with great skill, asked us to be silent for a while after he spoke.  We gave a cheque for $2700 to a local charity which helps homeless people and I took what were probably not very good pictures of the handoff.  We mourned the deaths in Charleston, and thanked all our volunteers, and broke for the summer recess.

It was a good day.  Today I have no plans but to write.

 

Back on the cpap

1.7 hours last night, and 200 words so far this morning.  Off to Sapperton days later this am. Hopefully I won’t expire of sunstroke or boredom.

…later

596 total for the day.

 

Sue and I nearly fried, but I looked at her after we’d been there for 2 hours and said I bet you want me to bring your car around and she said o would you please when the time comes and I fetched it and there was much rejoicing since we didn’t get a serious conversation in three hours.  I’m reconsidering going to pride New west… It’ll be another frying day almost for sure.  I bought beer on the way back to the car, I had a thirst that could throw a frikkin’ shadow by the time I got home.

Church was the blessing of the animals, and of course the only animals there were dogs.  I lit a candle for a men’s group and a UU movie group.  The youth did a beautiful meditation and all in all it was very pleasant.

 

Grr bleugh

Well it’s a good thing the transpeople I know personally aren’t assholes, because  the idea of having a transwoman tell me I’m oppressing her for occasionally mentioning that I have a Gold Star Darwin Approved Vagina would really really piss me off.  And I wouldn’t be nice about it.

The transpeople I know would roll their eyes and ask us to return to a more useful discussion.

Some woman who is not a professional medical person on the internet put up a 7 minute video on exercises for Pubic Symphisis pain, and in a shocking development, they really help.  Mike took me for Yellowtail Thai food last night down at the Quay  (I just ate the leftovers for breakfast… there is something of decadence in being able to have deep fried oysters for brekkie) last night and I crashed at his place.  He was still sawing logs at 5:30 am like any sane human so I let myself out and walked home.  MAN WHAT A DIFFERENCE.  I can honestly say that’s the longest and fastest walk I’ve had without pain in probably a year. And the sun was lovely, and the fresh breeze, which will probably resemble a damp blanket by midday, was restorative.  So I had a 2K walk in perfect weather as a start to my day.

Still sad about Anita.  She was a good woman.  I’ll post her obit later; she was a public figure in BC so there should be one in the local papers.

Sue comes to get me at 9:45.  I FOUND MY CHURCH NAME TAG more or less in time for the last service of the year.  Go me.

I think I already mentioned I wrote 1024 words yesterday, but here I go again.

New deadline for completion of the manuscript first draft is the end of August.  If I keep up my current rate that will be accomplished.

Going well

562 words already this morning.  Poor Theo.  But not poor mOm, who is going to get the most recent production pretty much immediately.

CHUNK STYLE

I’m doing church outreach today for SAPPERTON DAYS.  I’ll be with Sue, and there will be chairs, so that will be fine.  I’m thinking of taking Otto.  What the hell, eh?

Anyway, back to the grind.

Jeff and I are still messing with the font size.  Let us know if the change is NOT an improvement.

And thank you Jeff for continuing to be the best, most honest and most unobtrusive IT professional ever.

Weeping with joy

So I wanted to whiff on church yesterday because hey no surprise I always do. But it was very very worth it.

Preamble: I walk in the front door grouchy because having left it so late I had to park in the Gods up on Keary Street. The Minister approaches with a look of what I interpret as horrified concern, but she tells me to kick the rock away from the door so it can close and then says “Oh and good morning!”  (He is risen, he is risen, he is verily risen).

One, I need to put my Secret Buddy letter in an envelope (it’s a church thing to help us get to know each other and make stronger intergenerational bonds.)

Two, it’s new member Sunday, and old members should show up and show how happy they are FRESH MEEEAAAT FOR COMMITTEES.  Or BRAAAINZ, I can never figure out what I should be moaning…..  I couldn’t – I was too busy crying.  Because I was so happy that 9 ADULTS AND 5 CHILDREN joined our church.  I got intensely drippy, and it was wonderful. Yeah sure they mostly came from other congregations but the two sets of young families did NOT.

Three, I always like to light candles.  I got up during the service and was grateful for the thought provoking meeting yesterday.

Then Luc and Carol got up and announced that they had ELOPED and BROUGHT CUPCAKES.  You can well imagine (I hope you can) which of these two announcements stirred us most.  The cupcakes were freaking awesome. Oh, and congratulations Luc and Carol.  (Hopefully the out of town Unitarians who occasionally read my blog and know the principals will be dancing around, much as I did.)

Rob W. came late, as is his wont, (this from the woman who looks every week for an excuse NOT to go to church) sat next to me, and as part of our ritualized sideways hug when he sits down, we accidentally bonked heads realllly hard, and then both cracked up because it was funny. Hugs n concussions r us.

Two of our beloved church elders are dying of cancer, and it makes me really sad.  One of them I loved since the first time I spoke with him, and the other kinda grew on me, until now I’m just as sad as if two of my relatives are dying.  We were talking about that at the meeting on Saturday, how good it is that people are joining, because people are literally dying out of the church.  We sing “Gathered here in one strong body” but sometimes the body ain’t so strong.

The choir mistress got a lovely  bunch of fleurs for her service.  She has really moved the choir along in terms of dynamics and intonation.

The sermon about moral beauty had me nodding in a couple of places.

I talked to a couple of people after church and then went home and very late in the day wrote about 650 words.

I made curried pork chomps.

The carafe of cold coffee is calling my name. I have an interview at noon and see the financial advisor at 9.

church meeting

We put together the themes for worship services next church year, and then had a really interesting conversation about livestreaming our services.  I had an awesome time, although getting there practically ran me through a sieve.  AND parking at condominiums SUCKS.

Now I don’t want to go to church this morning!!! I feel like I already gave at the office.  I will anyway, if I can figure out what to wear and have a shower and like that.

167 words yesterday, 360 words so far this morning.  I fleshed out the Michel and the Nonna squib, and have been adding to the Pharos and Theo sections.

Mike called me twice from Wreck Beach during the meeting.  As much as I would have loved to, I think my time was better spent where I was.

Meeting with financial advisor tomorrow, second interview in the afternoon.  I sure hope those clauses end up being connected in real life.

Not everything is a confused mess

Yesterday 0 writing and 2.0 hours.

Church in the morning, took the bus to get there and it all worked out perfectly, except drinking that Timmy Ho’s coffee I bought coming up the hill from Sapperton Station made me so uncomfortably warm I spent the service in a state resembling that of a dish of colloid.  It was a good service, and would have been even better if the person living next to the Hall hadn’t been running a fucking weed whacker at irregular and annoyingly loud intervals during the exact time the service was running.

After the service I went to New West Station and waited in front of the Landmark for Mike and he was frantic about being late and I told him to relax.  When we bought the tickets, we went to the theatre, sat down, and the movie started, so nobody had to sit through the trailers.

Age of Ultron is a colourful, noisy, spirited MESS.  There are a couple of funny lines, and that’s it; it achieves spectacle without providing more than a tiny nod to anything resembling emotional connection, or pulling more than cursory nods at performance out of the principals.  I have no intention of watching it again.  I was an idiot… we really should have gone to Mad Max, but there’s no point wailing over spilled digital.

After the movie we had a late lunch at the Hub.  Great food and a wonderful view from the deck, but I’ve now lowered my expectations of their service to the point where I’m tempted to give my food orders to the manager rather than the assortment of Sand Snakes (think stunning, raven haired and sorta hostile) they seem to have hired as servers. But it was a yummy lunch, srsly.

After that, we saw Katie and Alex.  Happy sigh.

Then we went on an errand for Mike.  While I was sitting in the car looking through the hole in the roof at the brilliant green of the tree and the glorious blue and white of our unforecasted sky, I completely missed the accident; two bicyclists got into a rear ender with each other cause, hey, no brake lights, and all I could hear through the roof was two dudebros saying, “Sorry, man, jeez I’m sorry.” No injuries except to pride.

Mike was laughing when he came back the car, “Can’t get more Vancouver than that.”

Then we went to the Astoria and I had a grapefruit flavoured beer and no word of a lie I used to think I’d drink any beer, but this stuff was, in the memorable phrase of Dr. Filk, AUTHENTICALLY VILE.  We have reached peak craft beer, son.

Then we went to the Hastings Sauna.  My spidey sense (I’ve had something resembling prodrome for a week now) told me to stay the hell out of the sauna for more than a few minutes at a time. I did that and I believe I was wise. Even so the heat and eucalyptus made me feel very relaxed, and they play spa music in the front room, so I just lay there like a dead thing listening to desultory harp music with the oscillating fan blowing over my sweating and corpulent form while Mike roasted himself.  Ah, English.  It can make anything sound beautiful.

Then Mike gave me a lift home and I collapsed, while I realized I’d left my phone at Mike’s place when we stopped off there to get Mike’s bag.  He’ll drop it off sometime after he achieves consciousness today.

And then I couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t sleep.  It was one before I slept and seven when I woke up.  I feel okay though.

Today writing, laundry and cleaning, and ignoring the stuff on the PVR until Jeff gets home.

I didn’t even drink that much

Gosh it’s been ages since I was hungover, I really can’t remember – and I was tipsy enough when I came home last night I fired up the computer and wrote another 200 words on top of what I’d done that day, which was approximately 500.

Now I get to take this wackiness to church, oh doodie. Alex and Katie are threatening to be there.  We shall see.

This morning Katie ponied up incredibly cute pix of Alex playing in fingerpaint.  His expression makes him look like a tagger in training. Our little anarchist.

No cpap.  Freaking allergies.

If brO gets to the lawn this afternoon I’ll do the weed whipping.  It’s not for us, it’s for a) the landlord and b) the neighbours. I’d love it if the grass got tall, and so would the cats. Also the rats.  The deluge of vermin has halted – the last one was while brO was gone.

Yay, I have the chords for Ain’t No Rest For the Wicked.

 

Here are some deep philosophical questions by way of Mary Bennett, from James Hollis PhD:

1) Where do my dependencies show up in my intimate relationship?
2) What am I asking my partner to do for me that I, as a mature adult, need to be doing for myself?
3) Am I taking too much responsibility for the emotional well-being of the Other? Am I taking on his/her journey at the expense of my own, and if so, why?
4) In what ways do I seek to avoid suffering?
5) What fears, lack of permission or old behaviors block me from living my life?

I wish I had asked these questions of myself 10 years ago.

 

Sunday

I wasn’t feeling the sermon, but the meeting afterwards (soup lunch, AGM) was worth it.  Two of the elder church ladies gave me a moment (one administering side eye to the other) that will have me giggling at all hours for the next couple of days.  I wish I could explain it.  But dadgad it would be hard hard hard to explain without many derailments, so no. The meeting itself proceeded with few snags. Yay!

2.4 hours.

Something statistically improbable happened yesterday.  I was flossing and chunks came off the most recent crown and my top left incisor, which completely sucks. I have a call in to the dentist for an appointment as soon as one may be.

Sue took me to and from church and I thank her.

I forgot to record word count for yesterday before it reset, but it was less than 200.

In a continuation of boring career moves, Will Smith is staying out of Independence Day II.  Everybody else is going back, which you have to admit means that he’ll be finding new ways to be conspicuous by his absence.

We are rewatching PoI and I am loving it.  That show sticks the landing for how to grow an origin story for a team in the first half dozen shows.

We are watching Daredevil.  I really like it and any show with Deborah Ann Woll and Rosario Dawson in it can’t be all bad merely from a consideration of contemporary aesthetics and ability to do a lot with wacky material.

 

A homily about Islam

One of the hilarious things about Unitarianism is that we occasionally have people up to do homilies whom we have not, er, vetted.  Thus it was that about 8 years ago some relatively inexperienced people on the worship services committee decided to have a representative of one of the Abrahamic religions, being a local imam, come and talk to us about Islam.

Islam is much closer to 19th century Protestantism in how long it allows a preacher to go on – hour, two hour long sermons are nothing (I get testy with myself if I go over 18 minutes, but I have the shades of Bareld and Ralph at either ear to assist in preventing me from being the truly windy whelp that I am) and they can be rather emotional and exhortative.

Anyhoo, I wasn’t there – I looked at the service description and thought the brilliant and humane Muslims I know IN REAL LIFE have been sufficient testimony to me of the appeal and strength of Islam as a religion (although, being a wicked atheist, its message cannot penetrate my sinful ears (note shades of atheists past standing guard at such orifices).

The imam lectured everyone in the room for what seemed like days and told them they were all wicked sinners headed straight to hell if they didn’t this minute convert to Islam.

Apart from a little confab with the worship services this had zero effect on our church. There was no outburst, it was just a sad error, and a tiny hiccup in the ecumenical fabric of our lives.

So, this time, we got a woman.  She’s a media savvy Canadian Muslim.  She had a simple and heartfelt and useful message for us (drop the word moderate in front of the word Muslim, please quit seeing a headscarf as a sign of oppression, remember that Indonesia, Bangladesh and Pakistan have all elected woman leaders, be careful of the language you use and don’t put up with dog whistle language use from people who like to call Muslims THOSE PEOPLE). And she let her kids visit with our RE program.  Not because she wants to join our church – because she is not frightened of any message we might teach her children, because she’s already spoken to Unitarians, and really, we don’t bite.

I’ll gloss over the children’s story, except that I mimed having a tummy ache and krept off to the john to avoid it, while the folks at the back smiled behind their hands.

Sandwich lunch after.  Audrey’s devilled eggs were sublime.  She and I and Marilyn had a lovely chat before church; I in my usual witless way can’t even remember the name of the charming newcomer I ate with afterwards.  How to win friends and influence people.

Speaking of which, one of our long term members has dementia.  She smiles whenever she sees me, which is encouraging, and then stiffly walks over to me and says things like “I know you but I cannot recollect your name.” or, and it’s her that’s making me remember…. “Allegra! Thank you for wearing your name tag!” and then, mischievously and shyly, “It’s a good thing I get a lift to church, I can’t remember where I live.”  She looks like a precious five year old girl trapped in a still beautiful and friendly elderly woman.

If I get dementia, I sure as hell hope I’m like her.

Sue drove me home.

THRILLED out of my mind to hear that Rob W’s lawsuit (arising from the plane crash, wrote about it seven years ago on this blog) has been resolved.  Hope to hear more details from him this week.

Katie and Alex are about to head up here, and I for one am looking forward to some time with linoleum lizard lad myself.  I should get the coffee on.

3.1 hours and no words whatever yesterday.  “We begin again in love”.

At some point today and tomorrow I’ll be off to feed Ayesha.

I am feeling a strong current of affection toward the world right now, but if I ever find the jackass who put fentanyl in marijuana in the Interior, I’m going to scold and withhold that cookie.

Progress

515 words on Sweep Off Those Waves and 1.7 hours cpap yesterday and last night.  I love how my alien female is turning into A FEMINIST NIGHTMARE.  Cause she’s experimenting on her own children in utero.  This should end well.  I think I’ll celebrate with cinnamon buns.

It was a really great service; I love the flower communion and took rhododendron and azalea blooms. Thank you Sue for conducting me there and back.

I’m going to a circle dinner on April 18 – it’s a way of getting to know people from the church that you don’t normally talk to.

SO MANY KIDS.  We had hardly any children at church for a while, and now there are lots.  It takes some getting used to.

 

Some power in the morning

What an amazing church service.  I ain’t been feeling it lately, but that was a fabulous service delivered with love and care – individual testimonials as to the spiritual benefit of all manner of art, from fabric art to dance to hip hop music to singing to poetry.  Just, so, good. Joan Morris full props for a sound and worshipful service; lots to feed the spirit!

Got some nice long ear flapping in with some cocongregants afterwards, and then Sue kindly brought me home.

I am seriously thinking of adding “A Unitarian Viewer’s Guide to Deadwood” to my pile of writing projects.  DAMN  but it was a good show, probably one of the best ever. That plus “A UU guide to Akta Manniskor”, which is a show so full of Unitarian values that it is really quite remarkable.  And maybe Franci and I should do a Unitarian’s Guide to The Good Wife, since it’s such a pro-social show.