Category: Family

more True Blood and more cat fur

Another great episode.  This one Eric is barely in, but it’s still good.

Jeff and I have a busy day planned, culminating in  a barbecue for Katie and all the women she lives with.  First, a trip shopping, then District 9 at Metrotown (it will likely be nuts), then the barbecue.

My efforts to keep hair out of Miss Margot’s digestive tract have not been entirely successful.  She produced a tiny, ladylike little furball yesterday.  Hopefully this will inspire me to brush her more often, although considering I’m brushing her at least twice a day, while she grouses and grumbles and tries to bite and wriggles like mad OR sits there purring like mad as if she’s glad I finally got round to it.  Sometimes she asks to be be brushed – and still complains – and sometimes she runs away and wails.  The other night she spent I don’t know exactly where, but when she returned in the morning she had half the undergrowth of Burnaby lovingly stowed in her belly fur.  Normally I only brush her for about 2 minutes at a time, this time I locked the bathroom door and got really thorough.  MASSES of fur and crap came out….

I compost everything I pull off her.

Finally saw Driving Miss Daisy.  I liked it, but there were specifics about it I didn’t like all that much, like the soundtrack.

Watched the Ellison doc last night

Dreams with Sharp Teeth is HIGHLY RECOMMENDED.  Mike, Paul, Keith, Jeff and I had a glorious evening of pizza, beer, G&Ts, wasps drowning themselves in our drinks (this being August in Vancouver and virtually impossible to avoid), me printing out songs of mine for Paul to put in his songbook, me and Paul hanging the Japanese door hanging in the R. John Caspell Memorial Pinball Parlour, pinball (Great Finagle, but how much better that thing works when it’s level), bodywork, cheesecake and fellowship.

Dreams with Sharp Teeth is a must see if you’re into Neil Gaiman, BSG, or the English language.  The initial ‘interview’ sequence between Robin Williams and Harlan Ellison is PURE COMEDY GOLD. Also Richard Thompson does the soundtrack.  Once again, how much do I miss sharing stuff like this with John.

Now I am trying to wheedle Jeff into getting milk so I can make waffles.  I haven’t made waffles in ages.

Paul and I said to each other last night how much we missed small group ministry.  You think it’s Newage Nonsense, but it’s not – it’s major amounts of stress relief for your poor ol’ brain.  I remember the group meditations as being just about the only thing that kept me sane during a very trying period of my life.  Earlier in the day Paul came by and remonstrated with me about my lack of a rear view mirror on my bike (as well as to pick up the sewing kit, which is going back and forth between our houses like a sorry assed ping pong ball) and then he went out and not only bought one for me and installed it free gratis he got me a couple of really good bungie cords too.   All demonstrations of interest in my safety and comfort gratefully accepted, thanks.  As soon as the weather cleared in the midafternoon I went to get beer on the bike, and what an awesome ride that was, the temp being perfect, and the only hitch was when I tried to clear the intersection at Mary and Edmonds and nearly got crushed between two cars, and pulled a muscle in my calf.  It still stings – it’s a consequence of my ongoing L5S1 nonsense in my back, with the sciatic nerve pinging like a gas station bell – but I am taking painkillers PRN and otherwise ignoring it.

Also, I watched a DVD about church growth from a U*U perspective (man, it was interesting!) and had a long, interesting conversation with the minister.  Also, I practiced guitar for two hours and worked out the chords for Catnip on My Shoes, which I had never done before, so I can actually perform it in public now.

And here I was thinking I didn’t DO anything yesterday.

Oh, the zombanity

Apparently there was a zombie walk this weekend.  I was busy….  not stuff I can blog about ….. but here’s a little zombie flavourin’ agent for your day.

True Blood S2E9 was extremely enjoyable; thank you Mike for getting all the remotes to work.  I fed him turkey and chicken sausage with fennel and cherry PIE – that plus the True Blood made for an excellent evening.  I am going to get another tutorial from Jeff.

Today, I go to the library.

Jeff and Keith will be back from Courtenay this afternoon.

Unca Dave and others

Unca Dave is in town this week for cancer treatment, and Paul and I went to see him at the Lodge downtown.  It’s a really nice place although he says the one in Kelowna is nicer.

What can be said?  It’s all management; of energy, of medications, of treatments, of emotions.  He is as cheerful and forthright as ever, and it was great to see the names of his other visitors in the guest sheet.  We had a cup of coffee and visited for a couple of hours.  Paul will be taking him back to the airport today.

After the visit, we poked our heads into MEC, where I got two of these in black.  (Always ask if they have some in the back… I had checked inventory and there were lots of black ones, but not on display.)  Paul had loaned me a carrier and I fell madly in love with them and got two of my own.  They are only fifteen liters but I got four bags of groceries into one on Wednesday… I had to get some.  Also I got a map, because I like maps.  They don’t have topos of the city any more, pity.  Paul got raingear for his trip with Tish and Terry. After that we went to Pho Hong and I had one of these. Then we went to Rona and recut the keys that didn’t work.

pOp got himself hauled off to the emerg in Victoria in a most discomfiting fashion recently.  He’s back at home looking forward (not) to further tests to find out which end of the malingering/mad-with-worry pole he should be attached to.  And of course there are two other members of my family experiencing health problems that we know of – I light virtual candles for all them not because it will do a bit of good, but so I can turn my attention elsewhere.  Really, hard core atheists don’t know what they’re missing out on with church.  It’s just so comforting.

Fed the cats the free food that you get as a sample from the pet store for breakfast this morning.  Margot makes the most astonishing assortment of grunts and duck calls when she eats – she literally quacks when she’s excited or disturbed.  I put her on the Star Trek pinball but it’s too noisy for her, even though she did chase the ball a couple of times.

Sundry and various

Laundry all done.  Much practicing on mando yesterday, at least 90 minutes and my fingers are all callous-y again.

Family barbecue with lamb, chicken and steak (mmmm) and garlic bread and pan fried enoki mushrooms and couscous and greek salad and beer and green tea ice cream.

Katie got her documentation from the Hair Design School – she passed all exams with flying colours and got her certificate.  Yeah!  Should make job hunting a bit easier. We celebrated her success but she skated out right after True Blood to go keep an eye on a friend of hers (long story, likely tinged with fiction).  But it was great to have the fambly including Mike to dins.

MANY WASPS…. the funniest incident was when I was done with my steak and an extremely determined wasp tried to fly off with a hunk of meat still attached to the steak by a tiny thread of connective tissue.  He kept trying to lift off and then whizzed around like a tiny tethered helicopter, setting down, trying to chew through….. I finally took pity and took the knife to the meat and he took off, flying low but triumphant.  Keith had an interview yesterday, it didn’t go as well as the previous one but he is still looking and still hopeful.

Margot was batting at Gizmo’s tail the other day.  He just lay there, looking long suffering.  Gizmo and Eddie are both, very suddenly, much more affectionate with me.  Eddie has gotten up into my lap a couple of times (he’s not a lap cat).  Margot sticks to Giz like glue when they are outside at night.  Hopefully he will teach her not to be an idiot around cars.  She already runs away if you come up to her outside, always a good sign.

Swithering turns into action.

Yesterday I decided I’d had quite enough of lying around feeling sorry for myself, especially after I realized that my last week of angsty angstiness was hormonally triggered.  So I got up and reorganized the hell hole that is the plastic container cupboard, cleaned the kitchen, washed the dishes, ran two loads of laundry and tidied my room.

Paul called around noon and said he would come over to sing and play for a while and then take me to Jericho.  This was an extremely welcome idea – he turned up around 4.   Paul put some very tasty ornamentation and frills of the guitar variety overtop Home on Derange and Lifeline on John’s old six string Guild; then he made a face and said, “These strings are dead!”  Yes, I made the natural joke, in exceeding bad taste, that follows on to this.  We examined our cases for replacement strings (my mando sounded like shite) and had a socially mandated “Not only do we tune because we care, we occasionally change the strings, too!” session.  Zow.  My mando, never quiet, now sounds quite brassy.  I am about to inspect it for how well it stayed in tune.  Funny side note…. I tried tightening the strings without putting the bridge back.  Bwa ha ha.  Fortunately Paul didn’t laugh; just advised me to loosen a bit and then see if I could slide the bridge in, which didn’t take too much effort.  I may have to adjust it a trifle as I never seem to get the octave to line back up when I change the strings.  The colour difference between the old and the new strings made me laugh.  Paul said, Recycle them, and I said, nope, they aren’t recyclable.  The chart on the fridge settled the argument, and he said, quite reasonably, that if the metal recyclers take them it’s odd that the city doesn’t.  So they went in the trash, but we tried.

I was having such a good time singing and playing I wanted to drag my feet and not go to Jericho; Paul was firm.  “After 4 days in the hangar I want to be out doing something” – so we went.

AS ALWAYS I was glad we went; there were (just in the opening acts): miniature bagpipe.  Banjo. Steel drum; tight three part a capella harmony; penny whistle; lovely folksongs, newly minted and strictly trad.  Although, how you do Barbara Allen on the steel drum might be one of those things ya can’t picture until you see it.  (Answer, very well, thanks, it was very well done.)  For once I didn’t play myself – didn’t feel the need.

Crashed at Planet Bachelor; woke in the morning to the sounds of Keith puttering and the divine scent of coffee.  Got up – no Keith; from the back door being unlocked and the dearth of cream I assumed he’d gone off to fetch breakfasty stuff.  He came back and was just so irrepressibly cheerful and productive as he made himself a yummy brekky (I had cherry strudel and coffee with floods of cream for brekky, bad me – Keith had eggs).

He has an interview Thursday.  I have a good feeling about it.  He’s off to Ted’s optical joint to volunteer and keep his customer skills up while he looks for work.

Sometime in the next few minutes birthingway should show up and drop off the clipping bag for the lawn mower, and if she forgets again, I will just smile and expect her next week instead.  I don’t feel unplugged from time – that’s hard to do when I talked to Unca Dave on the phone this morning – but I don’t feel the whirling urgent torrent of it the way I did when the kids were smaller and there was always something emergent.

While I was at Jericho last night LTGW called.  Things aren’t great at the old stomping grounds, but he has his parachute packed.  It was great to hear his voice; I don’t miss work at all but I sure miss the smiling faces of the folks, as was brought serenely home to me at Brian’s birthday bash.

Today, I jump on the cycle and do a shop, and then a family feast on the q, the whole fam damily plus Mike, and a huge couple of salads, and something sweet and cold for dessert.  And I should likely get more beer.  Later, Katie will come over.  And then True Blood again, cause that just never gets old.

Oh, and I got a Lone Wolf and Cub movie out of the library – maybe we’ll watch it, Mike and Keith are ENORMOUS fans of the series.  Mike even gave Keith his Lone Wolf and Cub t-shirt, which he prizes.

So I’m feeling better, but singing and playing with people always does that for me.

Sundry and Various

I’ve been feeling quite odd for the last few days, like I’m coming down with something.  I can’t be too wobbly – my appetite is unimpaired.  I am also completely uninterested in work, which is why I’ve been doing things like posting bits of humour I worked on 15 years ago.  I wrote a couple of movie reviews.  Saw Bon Cop Bad Cop last night and LOVED IT… I will definitely watch it again.  Jeff is starting to see the value in borrowing movies from the library 🙂

Leo and Linda are in Newfoundland.  Here’s a pic of him playing with an outdoor chess set.

leoplayingchess

Tom L’s mother passed away yesterday. I light a candle for the journey.

The carpet cleaning man came yesterday and removed the smell of dog from our house.  The sofa and love seat and the carpet in the games room were all cleaned; Granny’s carpet went away to be cleaned (and the underlay got hauled away, thanks be, so we don’t have to cut it up and throw it out) and will be back in ten days or less.  Harry gave a vivid description of how the carpet is first put into an interesting machine which beats it with leather straps.  Insert random BDSM comment here.

Paul and Keith are back tonight tomorrow night; I have to jump on my bike and get over and feed Kira.

Pork chops marinated in pear juice and rosemary and then barbecued, and home made tabbouleh for dinner last night.  Jeff said, “What’s fer puddin?'” after this minor feast, and I nearly snarled at him; then remembered we had a frozen peach and raspberry pie, and that it’s actually cool enough to turn the oven on.  So we finished up with pie.

Furbabies & Gilgamesh

This morning, while Eddie was grumbling the whole time, Eddie and Miss Margot played over the same little  stuffed mouse.  I am trying to train Miss Margot to run along a track (which is interesting, because once she has ‘prey’ in sight she’s indefatigable, like a squat and furry greyhound) and Eddie got into the act.  Then, grumbling still, he walked away.  Twice or three times this morning he’s bopped her on the head.  She never says a thing, just flops on the ground.  She’s 1/3rd his weight, it hardly seems fair.  Gizmo never hisses at or hits her.

Yesterday I wrote another tune.  The recorder was sitting in front of me. I recorded it.  What was so hard about that?  Why have I not done that before?

A zillion years ago Loki told me that the oldest story was the epic of Gilgamesh.  It’s been on my list of things to read since I was a small child.    The most recent reworking of Gilgamesh is by Stephen Mitchell, a noted scholar, writer, translator, and custodian of wisdom literature.  I heard about it when the book was released on the CBC and put it on my list; it seemed that finally the translation, or retelling, worth reading now existed.

Yesterday I went to the library, because the *^%&$$ ICBC finally got off its duff and sent me my address change, without which I would not be able to get an update to my library card.  I did so, and Gilgamesh was waiting for me; that and a number of other fine books and movies.

I highly recommend it.  I wish a really good animation studio would bring it to life; there’s no way you could do it as a live action film, in my view.  What a different world that was, even in the mythic retelling.  To read the flood myth…  a snake stealing the  plant of immortality…. to feel Gilgamesh’s grief when Enkidu dies…. to shake one’s head how the gods cluster round the first offerings after the flood – they are so hungry because their humans are all dead and there’s no one to make offerings …. to smile at the wisdom of the tavernkeeper Shiduri, taking shelter on the roof of her tavern when Gilgamesh shows up, not wanting to be killed by the powerful and crazed-with-grief man…. it was all very beautiful, and very strange.

I have had dreams about Uruk, the city of Gilgamesh.  I just didn’t know that’s what I was dreaming about at the time.

I had a productive and happy day yesterday.  I ran errands on my bicycle, and Jeff and Keith and I watched The Adventures of Robin Hood with Errol Flynn, saw Katie, and Paul briefly, and Mike came over for dinner.  Mike’s kilt came, so I gave it to him and he was VERY happy and immediately donned it. Best gag of the day – BOTH KIDS assumed we were watching Court Jester, because there’s Basil Rathbone in the same sets.  Anybody ever notice how Una O’Connor and Mildred Natwick look awful similar?  I didn’t until yesterday.  And Errol Flynn is among the hottest men who ever lived.

Anyway, if you like costumes, you have to see Robin Hood.  Olivia de Havilland’s gowns are swoonderful.

We watched Metal: A Headbanger’s Journey (the documentary by Sam Dunn, which like his followup Global Metal, was awesome… and SO Canadian) and we celebrated Jeff’s birthday by eating barbecued chicken, and steak, and heart of summer salad with blackberry vinaigrette, and home made garlic bread, and bear claw ice cream.

This morning Jeff walked to 7-11 and they were OUT OF MILK.  Why?  Because their fridges were not able to maintain safe temps for dairy.  Kinda tells you what the last week in the GVRD has been like.  So he went to the other 7-11, which is a bit closer as it turns out, and they had some, and I made Jeff waffles and bacon for brekky.

Here is the recipe for heart of summer salad.

1 mango

1 small purple onion

1 tomato

1 orange pepper

1 red pepper

Cut everything into half inch pieces and drizzle either store bought raspberry dressing or home made blackberry dressing over top.  Take a tablespoon each of Tom’s blackberry jelly and olive oil and three tablespoons of vinegar, add basil, parsley and garlic to taste, then mix well.  If it sounds yummy, it is.

If I was making it in quantity I would likely add half an english cuke and more tomato.

And the real world keeps getting more like a video game

Bruce Sterling pointed to this article.

Yesterday the pinball games came home from Victoria.  They are Xenon and Star Trek.  Xenon needs a lot of work a diode, Star Trek needs a diode is functional.  We’re going to get a brass plaque that says, R John Caspell Memorial Pinball Palace, seeing as how the pinballs will be in his old room.  More furniture came into the house, including my room, so I now am overstuffed with solid wood furniture, just the way I like it.

Chipper, you will remember that Xenon was a game you and Steve B useta play on downstairs from your place on King St.  Colin and Catherine, you will remember the Star Trek game as the game that went to Rhino – the same con where Jeff was Robert Bloch’s gofer.  Ah, the good old days.

Margot keeps trying to be trodden on.

I am contemplating the pile of work I’ve undertaken this year with some sadness. It is, after all, work.  But at least I don’t have to commute.

Watched the 25th Hour. Really, really great film; Spike Lee did an awesome job, and the cast is brilliant.  Lee is SUCH an actor’s director.  If you’re in a Spike Lee movie, you may not like him, but he WILL get a good performance outta you or die trying.  I am considering reviewing it.  My review is up on imdb.com

Hotter than the hubs of Hades.

Yesterday I brought 20 beers home on a bicycle.  Mike, you will be amused to learn that I bought 12 Bud Light Lime, having become addicted to them at your place.  (Mike, knowing that I’m a beer weenie, didn’t expect me to like them.  But Jeff and I both do, as it is lime flavoured beer water, and a damned fine thing on a hot day.)  I only had one bungee cord, so getting it all home was a challenge, but the house is downhill from the beer store, at least.

Song for today is All the Con Men I have Known.  A brilliant tune; it’s the one that gets me the most “That sounds like Joni Mitchell” comments (which frankly I find irritating while understandable) and I personally think the lyrics are among my best.  It’s just not an easy tune, and OF COURSE every goddamned verse has a different tune, because that’s just the way I crawl moaning across the floor.

Friends and family news.

Cousin Alyssa is a year old.  Pictured here is her interpretation of “Pebbles”.

alyssa at one year

Jerome and Shannon have named their son.  He will be Braden.  Fine name, wot say ye?

ScaryClown is drinking his way across – and being ejected from bars across – Western Europe.  In his defence, it’s the guy he’s with that’s getting thrown out all the time.  Must meet this fellow.

Jeff texted me this morning to remember the garbage. I was just cleaning up after a nasty recycling related spill when he messaged me, having completed the task, so I feel all happy that I remembered.  To be fair, it is on the calendar.  He will be back in town – with PINBALLS – later today.

I saw Keith briefly yesterday.  He got over here to try to avoid waking his dad up, and by the time he got settled at the computer, his dad called him home again to pack.  It is not always easy, to be the dutiful son.

video and audio

I found a tape of me and John singing, at a coffeehouse or something.  Don’t know how old it is.  He starts off singing Demon Java.  Jeff is going to transfer it into more easy media for me.

The house is a LOT more secure (good luck trying to kick the doors in) now that the locksmith has done his thing.

I forgot to mention that one of the really amazing things about the Cavalcade of Cheese on Tuesday was the soundtrack.  Patricia’s friends make AMAZING mix tapes.  I’m so old I still call them mix tapes.

Butter chicken, height-of-summer salad and rice pudding with strawberries and nectarines last night.  It was a darned good meal if I do say so.  Height-of-summer salad is purple onion, peppers of various colours, mango, and tomato, all chopped into even(ish) pieces in a raspberry dressing.  For the rice pudding, I cut up the fruit and briefly soaked it in rum, allspice and sugar, then turned it into the pudding and cooked it.  Jeff om-nom-nommed like a good thing.

Jeff predicted (but I note in my blog of April 29th that I don’t mention it was his idea) that NCIS LA would come to pass, and so it has. The new series debuts 22 September.

Here’s video of the Wednesday night fireworks.

so much is happening!

Or nothing, depending on how you look at it.

Last night I went to the opening fireworks (Canada) and it KICKED ASS.  The theme was the Wizard of Oz and they did an amazing job of synching up the fireworks, and the colours and patterns, to the music.  I recorded it on my dinky camera; looks like shite but at least I have a souvenir.

The ride downtown last night was difficult; the ride back was scary.  I am SO glad Keith came with me because he was the only thing preventing me from having a full on anxiety attack, so quiet and calm and martial artsish was he.  Suffice it to say that I came a micron from getting backwashed in bear spray.  I didn’t, but it was a near thing.  The cop presence was beyond anything I’ve ever seen in Vancouver. If this is what the future looks like, it can kiss my ass.  I was deaf after I got off the Skytrain – the noise level was incredible – and I had had to ask one particularly lungworthy native chick to kindly please stop yelling in my ear.  (“KAYLA YOU STUPID BITCH BRING ME THE CAMERA I WANNA SEE THE PICTURES!” over&over&over).

It was great to see Alex and Rob and get the benefit of their roof deck once more – unimpeded view and lovely company.  Darwin made little happy bird noises all the way through the display, which was civilized of him; Alex was concerned he might scream through the whole thing, having been so rudely awakened and hauled upstairs.  Alex put on a lovely spread as always.  Cheesy, cheesy goodness! Paté!

Today, I SLEPT IN.  I was supposed to be at Suzanne’s for 9 and woke up at 9:35.  What to do?  No change, no bus tickets; didn’t want to take a cab, so guess what, I rode.  (Thanks Keith for the tire pumping).  The trip there was a breeze, being almost all downhill, and the trip back I took in stages, stopping off to get foodicles for dinner for Jeff and me.  Thanks to Leeanne and Patricia for getting me more inclined to ride; I was amazed, given how out of shape I am, how good I feel now. I mean, I feel really good.

Anyway, Suzanne and I had a good old chinwag and caught up about  the kids and their various interesting life frolics, and then I found out she’s never been to Wreck Beach. This is an outrage!  I immediately called Mike and he agreed this is a problem we should immediately fix, like maybe tomorrow.  I will call her and give her a head’s up.

I rode (okay, that hill above Royal Ave I walked) home, stopping off at the bank and Joe’s Farm Market and Farm Town Meats, getting a mango, a tomato, a red pepper, and orange pepper and a purple onion, and also chicken breasts and pork chomps, and coconut milk for the rice, as when I called Jeff I offered him the option of bbq chomps or butter chicken, and he immediately said butter chicken.  That’s gonna be yummy.  I already made the salad, and as soon as I get off here I’m going to finish cleaning up the kitchen and maybe start running a load of laundry, and then I am going to rearrange my room so I can have all of my recording equipment and musical instruments out at once without difficulty.

I missed the locksmith by literally 7 minutes but that’s not too surprising given that he said he’d be by on Tuesday, and does today look like Tuesday to you?  A good tradesman is hard to find.

Tanya is thinking of dropping by with babby again today.  Happy me.  I have to be here for the rest of the day anyway, visitors would be so nice!

Wreck yesterday

<snippets>

In the morning I loafed and lazed, squeezed in a grocery shop, and then reverted to dawdling and doodling; around 1 Mike came and fetched me in the convertible, and then we went down to New West to get Katie and Kashka.  (One half of the reality show girls).  Kashka is covered with ink from her ears to her ankles, including Betty Boop as a skeleton, which is freaky, because Betty Boop’s skull looks exactly how I would imagine Margot’s skull to look.

It was very pleasant on the beach.  There was a kicking breeze all day, and it was not from the usual angle, and pushed the incoming tide up the beach.

At first Mike tried to fly his approx 4 square meter kite but the breeze was so stiff he was getting dragged 10 and 15 meters down the beach, which I watched with the kind of chill consternation which is all you can muster when you’re feeling so mellow.  Then he tried smaller kites, which was much more successful, and provided us all with much in the way of aesthetics.

Liz, Kashka’s ex, joined us.  I’d met her when we were still living at the Augur Inn and really liked her; I still do.

As the tide came in (Mike always checks the tide tables and parked us WELL up the beach) the breeze shifted until it was straight onshore.  Surf’s up kids!  The girls were bobbing up and down in the waves several times – they’d come back out to warm up and then go back in.  I asked Katie if it was awkward to go the the beach with mom and she just laughed and said after ten years she was used to it.  And it’s been ten years since we started going as a family.

Odd, isn’t it?  I got in to waist height and let a couple of waves slam into me, because I wanted to say I had gone in and had some idea of the physical exhilaration of it all, but I’m 50, and the idea of trashing the bottoms of my feet and then having to climb all 407 stairs (counts vary!) had very little appeal, and at the end, the girls complained that their boobs had been thrown around so much they were all sore.  Mmmm… My kind of fun doesn’t have that kind of toll, but that’s just me being lazy again.  Also, Mike and Liz and Kashka and Katie all complained about how much salt water they swallowed.  Ick.

A man with t shirts and beaters went by; one showed a parody of a Starbucks logo with beers and WRECK BEACH instead of STARBUCKS, and the mermaid wearing sunglasses.  Kashka leaped up and said, “I want one!” so I obliged her.  I laughed, “All your mother’s many kindnesses to Katie are coming back for YOUR benefit, how annoyed Suzanne will be!”  But no probs, I’ll be seeing Suzanne later this week to catch up on the buzz.  Katie is living rent free at Kat and Kashka’s, so I am being politic.

I ate the best hotdog ever on the beach.  Those three jalapeños I added made for just the right amount of heat.

I wrote a song on Mike’s parlour Larrivée – no lyrics yet. Which reminds me I should pick up my guitar and make sure the tune is still there.   I believe so.

The GVRD but not the cops were on the beach.

All in all, it was a lovely, lovely day, and I got home around 7:45, very crisp around the edges. Tonight, off to see Patricia for the long promised Cavalcade of Cheese.

One thing and another

Yesterday… I mean apart from getting ZERO done on my life list, I had something resembling a perfect day.  I got to see my kids and Paul as we chatted about the job hunt for the kids (got some things straight). I got fed a yummy tortilla lunch which Paul and Keith and Katie assembled; later I did a kindness for someone which triggered him buying me sufficiency of beer for the nonce.  Happiness is a fridge full of Corona.

I got to visit with Tre.  Logos, but that’s one cute babby.  Battery and Tanya and Jeff and I laughed and chatted and had a very pleasant time while I got the grisly details of the birth, none of which are for public consumption.  The result, a calm but busy 6 week old who developmentally is a month ahead (REALLY strong), is what counts.

Margot couldn’t stand the lack of focus on her, and came into the livingroom to (very ladylike) hork up some grass, because the babby was being changed at the same time…

The weather, after a little overcast, was perfect all day.

Then, hung out for a while not doing much of anything and Mike came by and took me and Keith and Jeff to the Richmond Night Market, where I bought nothing but REALLY GOOD kettle corn, and where I watched my beautiful son metamorphose into a steely eyed killer (there was a mini-midway, and he shot enough pins to get me a little purple bear (not exactly worth the five bucks he paid to play…. but I digress as usual and besides, Miss Margot is eviscerating it as I type, so its purpose has been revealed)) and after we drove away Mike took us to his cefu’s traditional chinese martial arts club (Mike corrected me, Jack is NOT his cefu, Galen is.  Men can be so STERN when you get things wrong) in an industrial park in Richmond (and boy, has he done a pile of work on that place to help Jack get ready) and then I got to watch the north shore skyline etched against a sunset sky while the wind whipped through my hair.  Ah, convertibles. And I cried a little bit, because I am so happy, and so grateful to be living here, surrounded by such loving friends and family. Side note, John Caspell trained with Jack.  Everything is deeply intertwingled.

When we got home, TrueBlood.  Not enough Eric; no Pam, not enough Jessica.  But considering what the first four episodes of the season were like, I am willing to cut some slack.

Can you tell I had a perfect day?

And today, instead of working, I’m going with daughter Katie and Mike to the beach.  My happiness is like a golden thread.

I would like to give special, extra, crunchy golden props to Jeff, who has been leaving the real for real audio of the Apollo 11 mission running for the last couple of days during waking hours.  It’s been an ongoing reminder of why I’m an atheist.

Until we saw the Earth rise over the moon, I don’t think the fundamental unity of human life, and its fragility, had ever been so starkly drawn.  And it wasn’t the Pope or Mohammad, peace be upon him, what got us there.