Not much happening

I think I’ll go spend a couple of hours helping Paul pack today.

Mike says we may go to Vantan, the private members naturist club up at Mt. Fromme, this weekend, weather depending.

Really looking forward to it. Place is completely off grid – even the hot tub is wood fired.

Membership requires 10 hours of work each year or a donation of cash or kind if you can’t work.

drugs achieved

Paul and I ran errands, walked at Fraser Foreshore (the bird song was well nigh deafening, no joke), and Paul got an early lunch at Foreshore restaurant (he had the manhattan style chowder and the schnitzel on a portuguese bun, I just had coffee because I’d had an enormous breakfast). I reupped the amilzide.

It’s now 2 in the afternoon and I am contemplating how best to spend the rest of my day. I was supposed to help Paul with his packing but bowed out. We had a good time; Paul and I were both stiff old crocks but we had a lovely day.

SADLY some MOTHERFUCKER backed into the Echo and now the left rear tail light is cracked and the trunk lid is fucked up (still closes). I have no idea when that happened, but I think it happened when we were parked; it wasn’t busted Monday when I drove Lois to the airport.

120GLP – worst and rudest driver in Burnaby this morning. Hey White Audi driver thanks for completely supporting everything I already thought about Audi drivers. And Fuck You most sincerely.

it’s all good

Drove Lois to the airport. Paul came along. He figured Keith could do it but I hadn’t had a chance to chinwag with her and that was very kind.

His will has been witnessed and his mail redirected to the right person in the family. Lois seemed to be taking herself to task for not getting much in the way of packing done. I am sure Keith and Kate are looking at each other and thinking that Paul signing a lease and getting his paperwork taken care of is a fucking miracle, and that anyone who thinks they could have done more in four days is being, you know, unduly hard on themselves.

Today Paul and I will go for a walk.

 

Church yesterday

It was a service with a LOT of music. It was all standard white people music that wouldn’t have been out of place any time in the last half century, so it matched the congregants quite well.

I was the ONLY PERSON who brought animal flesh to the soup lunch (there are always meatatarians in every crowd) so I’m proud to say that two thirds of the chicken thighs I baked last Thursday got consumed by people like John H. The leftover leftovers went with Keith back to the Junction where I imagine Dax and Katie will consume it.)  I had lentil chickpea soup, which was quite tasty and had the right amount of salt. Keith is so loved at church, everyone wants to talk to him and he’s always helping out.

I was seriously peopled out and came home and consumed media. Jeff took me to White Spot for breakfast and I still have some in the fridge. I’ve already had my coffee and scritched and trained Buster.

Posted this to FB yesterday:

why you want to train your cat to understand you speak, example the entienth.
Buster: I am minding my own catly business snoozing in the music/spare room. (Further note – we leave this door closed as it bleeds too much light into the media room so Buster has to ‘ask’ us to open the door for him when he wants to use the room)
Allegra: Enters room. Holds up guitar. “Noisy, Buster. Noisy. Can you get down please?”
Buster: Teensy-weensy put-upon mew, jumps down from bed, finds another place to hang.
Allegra: Vigorously and noisily practices after closing the door.
Allegra: Opens music room door after 45 minutes. “All done Buster, no more noisy.”
Buster jumps down from the media room sofa and retakes his music room perch.
The most important thing about communication is respect. I know he hates it when I play. It’s kind of a drag after Miss Margot, who loved music (especially the theme for Stargate Universe and U2) but Buster and I seem to have a quid pro quo….
I am extremely happy to say that Paul has signed a lease for an elder facility and he will be living there starting July 1. it is walking distance from here. MY RELIEF MAY BE IMAGINED.

not a peep

Didn’t hear a peep out of anyone at the Junction yesterday. Fine, I was probably not in good enough shape to be useful and they had other plans.

Somebody was busy last night; fewer stories because these are the long ones.

Brain is adequate this morning but nothing better. SO MANY FOOD WORDS on the NY Times Wordle these days, it’s been food words for a week now, bagel and ramen etc. I’m out of some Rx in a few days and as usual don’t have a Doc appt until after I run out. I don’t imagine it will be a problem, pharmacists have been known to save the day.

SCHNITZEL last night, also this morning. I left a tiny little piece as a snack for later. The greek salad was very good too. I’m finding the ‘not eating anything solid after about 5 pm’ diet is working fine.

I think I made very fine coffee this am. I am enjoying it.

lost my mind

obviously someone stayed up ALL NIGHT reading my fics. Well, there are more to come so that’s nice.

 

 

I tried to help Paul with something yesterday and all I managed to do was upset him, Jeff, and myself, and Katie called to ask what the hell happened, and I feel SO USELESS AND CLUELESS but Lois is here and I hope it all gets straightened out. I lost my cheese and someone who’s blameless suffered.  I am assuming it will all get straightened out but I imagine both my kids think I’m an asshole right now. I did apologize most fervently to Paul but it was probably too little too late.

 

I was feeling very sorry for myself and then I found out that some kind whistleblower just dumped 100 Gb of Tesla crash data. My response. Yes it’s supposed to be disturbing.

it’s been an age since I got a comment

This is everything to me. My attention to detail got someone’s attention. I MUST SPEAK TRUTH ABOUT DETROIT IRON OR RECEIVE THE DISAPPROBATION OF MY FATHER.

Ain’t lyin….

 

I loved so much about this story, but the thing I held closest to my heart was: Finally! Someone who realizes you couldn’t get air conditioning or a tape deck stock in a 67 impala.

Lovely walk with Paul yesterday, followed by distributing treats from Cobbs Bread and some sorting of his clothes. He asked me to help with the family photographs and then refused to let me help…. it was weird but okay. Ryker was A FREAKING MESS I am pretty sure he has allergies, he ran like a snottap the entire time I was there, and was seconds from crying the entire time, but I did interact with him when he wasn’t crying and stopped him from hucking his slippers downstairs.

How did I have a lovely walk with Paul? I didn’t talk, except to respond to him kindly and truthfully. And we sat and listened to birdsong for a good half hour, in companionable silence. I didn’t give him much help with sorting but it was some.

Brain is not good this morning. Wordle in 3. Scotoma dragons for an hour.

The Guyanese-descent gent I follow on twitter said something about how if you think brown people can’t be racist you haven’t met his extended family. SO I COMMENTED. Perhaps I should not have.  (mOm remember how I have Richie IMMEDIATELY comment sotto voce as to the ethnicity of a Black man he meets – including how long he’s been in Canada? when I was living in Toronto with my first husband it AMAZED ME how many Black people I met had very distinct and not always pleasant or pleasantly phrased opinions about where other people from the Terrible African Enslavement Diaspora were from and what kinds of personal behaviour, style of dress etc. we could expect from them…. stuff that made my little white middle class mind EXPLOOOOOODE) So my response to my Guyanese twitter ami was that of course brown people can be racist! BUT THEY WON’T BE WITHOUT COLONIALISM. The very distinct layercake of Guyanese life with the Amerindians (their term not mine, it’s racist TWO DIFFERENT WAYS and of course they should be spoken of by Indigenous nationality, language or cultural bonds) at the bottom and the descendants of the Black enslaved persons next up and then the Desi and Desi-blend folks (white people exist as tourists in Guyana, less than .5% are white AND THE CHINESE PEOPLE ARE LUMPED IN DEMOGRAPHICALLY WITH THE WHITE PEOPLE, CHEW ON THAT FOR A WHILE (I mean imagine it in Vancouver LOLOL)) resulted specifically from slavery and importation of guest workers and the distinct modern assignment of racial opprobrium flows from that.

As for Guyanese people, in my observations of the Caribbean hierarchy they: “Think they’re better than everyone else because they cling to decades-rotten colonial forms and ceremonies, drink way too much, fucking suck at cricket, and dress like bums.” Get a Bahamian to comment on Jamaicans some time, it’s like dropping Mentos in a Coke bottle. Believe it or not apart from the drinking too much I’ve heard all of these (re Guyanese) comments in person, and the drinking comment is based on the demonstrable fact that Guyana and Suriname (its neighbour and colonial sibling thanks to the Dutch) have much higher alcoholism and binge drinking rates than any of the closest Caribbean countries, and the alcoholism is supported by the unbelievably cheap and plentiful rum from the sugar cane plantations …. that came with colonialism. So no matter which end of the drunkard’s walk that is my approach to ranting you grab WE ARE GOING TO END UP AT COLONIALISM.

If asked to comment as to why 35 percent of Russian men have a drinking problem – the worst stat on earth for alcohol currently – I think I’m going to splay my hands and smile. Traumatized people self-medicate, amiright. Also, to be entirely fair, Canada’s alcoholism rate is higher – by 3 % – than Guyana’s. Just Saying. Also if you want an example of sexual dimorphism, the difference in the alcoholism rate in Russia between men and women is so huge it looks like a typo. Source worldpopulationreview

a little sad but also relieved

I note that our trip to Victoria this weekend is not going to happen, and I’m sad, but the hours of waiting with two bored children have been avoided, and that makes me relieved. Seeing on twitter that early morning vessels are cancelled due to crew shortages just adds to the feeling of horror escaped.

Saw The Artifice Girl yesterday. It has issues (the way auteur movies often do – Franklin Ritch wrote, directed, edited and starred in it) but as a full-court practical, emotional and philosophical examination of AI it works very hard and delivers its message with verve and precision.

Tatum Matthews as the title character, ‘Cherry’, is absolutely pitch-perfect. If you’re looking for an action fest, this is the exact opposite, it’s a very talky movie. SF movies like this are uncommon and should be seen. It’s also a feminist film, in unsettling ways. Combatting child sexual exploitation and trafficking is everyone’s business and the idea of making it an AI’s business and that it represents a moral hazard to the AI (in the film) is brilliant in my view.

Anyway, it accomplishes its goals and I’ll be thinking of a couple of scenes a lot over the next few days.

 

Hey mOm another character has entered the frame on TB. Her name is Lucie and she’s Omar’s step-niece. You’ll meet her in a couple of months I imagine.

hey mOm banners

The new summer banners going up on lightpoles in Victoria regarding gardens were done by someone I follow on facebook, Lou-ann Neel. So when you see them all cheerful like with hummingbirds and bumblebees in bright colours in coastal art style you can know that they were designed by an Indigenous artist and scholar.

A quick phone call

Keith called to advise that after consulting with his siblings, and the geriatric social worker, Paul has decided to move into the residence we visited last week.

I cannot express the extent of my gratitude and relief to have been part of the process. I’m so happy for Keith right now I don’t have words. More when a lease is signed or if for whatever reason it falls through, but at the moment there’s no reason to believe it will. Love to the siblings!

errands

Accompanied Paul for a meal and errands yesterday. It was a beautiful day again and I kept my temper for most of it, but learning that he had received a new bank card and just thrown out the last one without calling the number and getting it authorized meant that we now had another errand, meaning going to the bank and stooging around for half an hour while the world’s most patient bank clerk dealt with Paul not being able to enter the same pin number twice running and not being able to remember his own home phone number that he’s had since 1996 and laughing about it. Then we learned his credit cards were buggered up too, and the clerk squared what he could away. Two children from a five child family screamed and moaned right next to us the entire time this was going on, just to give you the true, “If it’s Thursday this must be the third level of hell” feel to the occasion. Anyway, I paid for the banker boxes he bought and he paid me back at the bank.

I got him lunch at Nando’s at Market Crossing and realized that Paul is having more and more and more trouble handling food and I should have gotten him something less knife and fork to eat. The meal took almost an hour and he had a beer too. I was shrugging it off so I asked him to sit in the car while I got more babby plant pots and some embroidery hoops while I poked my head into Michaels.

While we were picking up banker boxes, something funny happened. We miss Jim, of course we do, and in Paul’s case the missing him comes out in song; it was Jim who told us about Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellers and gave us our first few cassette tapes, which we listened to constantly. One of them, a traditional song, is called Sarah, and has the following chorus:

Sarah, Sarah won’t you come out tonight,
Sarah, Sarah the moon is shining bright,
Put your hat and jacket on, tell your mother you won’t be long,
And I’ll be waiting for you round the corner

Except that when Paul sang it, it came out, “The moon is brining shite,” at which point I laughed helplessly for about a minute.

BRAINz working okay today, tiny amount of writing, but the real big cognitive news is that I got eight hours of sleep.

Some positive movement

Absolutely gorgeous day. Stunning. And we’re going to have a mini heat dome for Mother’s Day, la la la!! Emailed the kids and said I want nothing but a phone call for Mother’s Day.

Paul, Keith and I went to a local (walking distance…) independent living manor and it had many, many amenities and conveniences to recommend it. It’s a swingeing amount of money per month but all the food, internet, cable and cleaning is included so it’s actually a pretty good deal, and there are tons of activities and many different rooms to do things in. The org that runs it is a non-profit and the building itself is almost brand new (our family watched it being built.) We will be visiting other places this month as well, or at least the menfOlks will.

Paul was engaged, communicative, task-oriented and equable throughout the visit and continued to contribute to the conversation for about half an hour after the tour was over (they let us sit in an absolutely gorgeous common space to talk, and of course because the weather was perfect and there were floor to ceiling windows along the corner walls looking out into a courtyard completely surrounded by mature trees, it was a nice place to chat.) He liked the apartment (we saw the show suite and a vacant mirror image, both on the top floor and looking into cedars and fir trees) and the three enormous closets and was pleased to hear that the two malls that he is most familiar with in terms of amenities and layout are also the two malls that they bus folks to twice a week. The food looks fantastic and residents are served restaurant style with servers taking orders at the table.

Dax dropped by in the late afternoon to collect an air compressor from Paul’s Echo’s trunk. Why? Because the grandsons have deflated balls. Many, many deflated balls. All the deflated balls, apparently. There will be some vigorous kicking in their future I imagine.

Today I’m taking Paul to get boxes at the Staples down the hill and hopefully finally getting that watch fixed. I also want to pick up some more veg (I like the veg place in Market Crossing and maybe the Cobbs has reopened YUP just checked, they were renovating) and maybe a treat or two if the winds are propitious. And maybe a visit to FISH to get some halibut, always a welcome basis for a meal.

Finished the run of Endeavour. Abso loved it, it’s going in rotation, and thank you Dave SO MUCH for recommending it. Desperately seeking something of equivalent volume and quality to replace it!

129 words on the fic, brain is sort of working, towels washed and put away, one load of laundry done but sitting around downstairs.

Plane crashes and setting the mixture lean

So there was a plane crash in Langley yesterday. I heard about it on the radio. Then I read on line that the airplane – a small private craft – CLIPPED A TRUCK on the highway before coming in for a crash. Ya know friends and neighbours that is most likely to mean that HE DIDN’T SET FUEL TO RICH MIXTURE so he had ZERO OOMPH when he needed it. Since this is exactly like the plane crash I was in I’m of course predicting that’s what happened. Everyone including the poor bastid in the truck got conveyed to the hospital and in true Canadian fashion, lived to complain about it all.

I picked Keith up in his own car from the Ferry Terminal at Tsawassen yesterday. It was a STINKING HOT DAY, much hotter in Burnaby than the records might indicate. I had to drive in traffic. People who drive from east Burnaby to the southern terminal know well that there are a couple of choke points. One is the bridge access southbound on 20th; queued there for 20 minutes or so, cursing most immoderately the entire fucking time. One is the ‘curve’ on highway 91A where the traffic ALWAYS slows down even though there are no on-ramps? Like- what the hell, people. There is no earthly reason for this to happen, so I unscrambled my brains and gave it some consideration and I guess it’s because trucks have to slow down because it isn’t banked properly or something and that has a standing wave effect on the rest of the traffic. And of course another is the run up to the Massey Tunnel, but that was barely a blip because they had the counterflow set in favour of the traffic direction I was on.

After all that, got there in plenty of time to greet him for the ride home, and he thank god did the rest of the driving because I was once again pretty crispy toast from driving with due care and attention in that relentless traffic and heat. I didn’t want to put the air con on because we had less than a quarter tank of gas and I wanted to make sure that I didn’t get stuck behind an accident with no gas.

All was well, Keith efficiently gave me back the stuff I’d left in his car after the trip, and discovered ANOTHER BAG OF BISCOTTI – I told you I made a lot of that – which is going over to Peggy today because she is awesome and could use a break. With coffee, and biscotti. I won’t stay, I’ll just biscotti fairy it over to her when Jeff and I go to errandry later this morning.

Right now, I must dress, brush teeth and watch Endeavour, and then we’re going out. The downstairs toilet needs a part, and I want to get the Marvin the Martian watch I got from John’s stash running again. Curiously, I found the identical watch (right down to the watchband, which is an unusual leather and colour) for sale, secondhand since it was made in 94, in Europa for 339´€ and in the US for $39, so someone’s getting hosed and it’s not me.

Embarrassing as it is to relate, it is entirely possible that I will purchase another cell phone. Spending time with a dementia sufferer and being out of touch while I’m driving him around (he often forgets his phone) has made me understand the value of access. As I was driving to the ferry I kept thinking if I’m in an accident I’ll have no way to contact Keith and it made me unduly fretful.

list is getting ticked

Happy St. Sitha (Zita) Day, patron saint of domestic work, domestic workers, and lost keys. Here she is from a church wall in Norfolk UK.

Feast day April 27, St. Sitha patron of domestic work, workers and lost keys, winks at us from a church wall in Norfolk UK

Laundry is done and I’ll go back to folding it when I’ve finished posting. No Lumosity yet, wordle in three (the word made me laugh out loud because it is NOT a word I personally am associated with, like, at all). Five kudos from one person on AO3 last night… I mean woman did you SLEEP that was like 50K words LOL…. Almonds are in the oven for toasting and the timer is set to explode (finally have a LOUD kitchen timer) in an hour. I have started selecting my clothes to be packed. I’ve been practicing my instruments every day, I keep starting on and then refusing to write down any of the gags for a standup routine (part of it involving a ‘tactical ukulele’ which describes the second uke Mike bought me), I wrote 899 words yesterday on the fic and about 40 on TB. Dejunking has slowed but not stopped. Played Original Green Tetris on the Tetris website yesterday and I have to say I prefer newer versions LOL. I’ve booked my next flu/covid shots with the pharmacy.

I send a special family hug to Leo and Linda this am (they are always sharing pictures of their family in the background with me and it helps me stay connected to their fam and I really appreciate it) and a big long rocking hug for Dave, who is mourning his kitty and will be for a while. He still has Pippin, but Mookie was a real character.

Here’s a list of free websites that are apparently useful from boing boing dot com this morning. I’ve only had a good look at witeboard and untools but intend to explore more:

  1. Witeboard: https://witeboard.com 6
  2. Blush: https://blush.design 5
  3. Carrd: https://carrd.co 7
  4. What runs: https://www.whatruns.com 7
  5. Coverr: https://coverr.co 5
  6. Flourish: https://flourish.studio 7
  7. Untools: https://untools.co 10
  8. Lumen5: https://lumen5.com 10

Just in case anyone is thinking of me, please don’t get me anything for Mother’s Day that doesn’t involve tasty food I didn’t cook.

Still very much enjoying Medium and we’ve started The Diplomat and are LOVING it. But it’s (ratchet ratchet ratchet sound in the background) berloddy tense.