Category: Festival

off to the showroom

Keith needs to buy some furniture to fit in his new room. We’ll go off to see that midmorning. He’s also setting up ‘the last family meal at the Manor’ for Sunday so I’m hoping Jeff will come.

Weather continues okay, pollen except mold is low.

Laundry done, now I need to put it away. har har

Ukraine has lost a lot of warriors in the offensive. Things are gonna snap.

Tanked all my Lumosity games this morning. I don’t mean to dip but using a trackpad instead of a mouse is kinda bogus and I should stop doing it.

Made more iced tea.

Had my leftover pad thai for breakfast. DAMN it was good. Jeff enjoyed his Mongolian stirfry so we’re putting that restaurant in the rotation. The soup (sort of like Tom Ka Kai but called Coconut soup) was so good I could feel my soul leave my body and then come whooshing back in with a big ass THANK YOU. I asked for Mild-Medium spicing and they NAILED IT so well.

Reviewing my to do list. Amazing how many items I’ve already crossed off.

360 words over today and yesterday.

Just found out that the only Guyanese person I follow on twitter… his dad was a chauffeur. And so is Blossom, so I’m thinking that is one strange echo.

a few items

Mo-no-ny-mous
I mean Shakira
Mo-no-ny-mous
And also Cher
Mo-no-ny-mous
Adele and Bono
and Plato, & Cato,
Colette – and don’t forget Voltaire

(This above for mOm, I sang it to her the other day and she laughed so I thought I’d write it down for her.)

Made fruit salad for the meal yesterday. Last I saw, leaving their house, Paul was going to eat the rest before anyone got seconds. It was that good. And candidly, given that he daily complains about how hard his poops are, who minds that he inhales some food value with his roughage.

It consisted of pieces of melon, blueberries, strawberries, mangoes, the best fucking Bartlett pears I ever et, and oranges. The dressing which is from a recipe I got online, I’m not smart enough to invent it, and it’s for those who can eat dairy: a cup and a half of 10%BF Greek yogurt, three tablespoons of maple syrup and half a capful of vanilla. WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS how nommy it is, and like I said I would have taken home leftovers if there had been any. The mouth feel, good god yall.

Oreo sat on my shoulders a good long while and purred hard in my ear.

I PLAYED A BOARD GAME WITH THREE QUARTERS OF MY DESCENDANTS YESTERDAY. It was Alex’s idea and I had so much fun. Hasbro’s latest version of Clue, if you need to know.

Dax changed the oil in my car. I asked him anxiously from the back deck if the oil was very dirty and he swilled it around in the container and considered the matter and said, ‘Yes’ so dryly that I burst out laughing. I owe him forty bucks for the filter and the oil so I’ll be heading out to drop it off sometime today. Perhaps I’ll combine it with a trip to Peggy’s to ditch that weird fretless bass ukulele.

Made soup yesterday. Started with a litre of unsalted Campbell’s chicken stock, added organic ramen (so damn good), chopped carrots, mushrooms, baby bok choi, a little tiny dab of veggie soup base, a splish of soy sauce. Today or tomorrow I am going to attempt Instant Pot (did you know the parent company is going out of business thanks to asset stripping? Capitalism HOW YOU SUCK) red beans and rice. I may bake up some chicken breasts and taters since the weather seems to be veering off into ‘June-uary’ temperatures.

Thunder and lightning two days ago. Not usual for these parts. We talked about the weather a lot yesterday.

Ryker was just down for his nap and Alex kissed his head AND WOKE HIM UP. He was down for most of the meal and the board game but since he’d gotten no other nap that day and was up at 6:30 Katie was SPARE while Ryker ran around the house terrorizing everything he could and parroting everything his mother said. WITH HER INTONATION. He’s got dozens and dozens of words, some clear enough that people who don’t live with him can understand him. Keith was like that, pristine pronunciation from the git. But Ryker is DIFFERENT. He is stronger, braver (yeah, like no sense of self preservation) smarter, faster, funnier, more able to understand what the adults around him are saying, more able to self-soothe, more durable – he took hits yesterday that would have had me bawling and just walked it off – picking up language so fast. Mike the father brought him back with a pinch bruise on his leg from a recliner, apologetic af, and Katie wasn’t bothered. What can you do? He’s not Alex, or Keith, who conducted themselves from a very early age knowing that the world can bite ya. I told her they should promise each other ten bucks and hand it to whichever of them DOESN’T have to take him to hospital with a broken bone first. You should have seen Katie rubbing her face as she contemplated how many TIMES she’ll likely have to take him to hospital. Like the tshirt said, today we keep the tiny human alive. Except he’s NOT tiny, he can open and shut doors with the handle.

everything about the visit is overshadowed by the fact that Alex is crying every day about how he can no longer go to second street school because his mother can’t afford to live in the catchment area. And the landlord fucked her over by not giving her a duly completed eviction notice so she can’t move up the BC housing list. This world is a horrible place for my children right now and I am helpless.

Over 500 words on TB yesterday. Richie and Blossom have finally met.

the cumulative effect

so

if Keith hadn’t asked me to come with for Peggy’s luncheon

Peggy wouldn’t have reminded me that Cindy’s Festival of the Living Rooms concert is Saturday and suggested I back Cindy up

and I wouldn’t have messaged Cindy to be so kind as to allow me to accompany her

and I wouldn’t have found out that Cindy was low key panicking, and we wouldn’t have rehearsed last night and I wouldn’t be backing her up today for the 3PM concert. She brought like 80 DOLLAH of greek food and we ate like chieftains wit’ da meat on spits, good god yall.

Yesterday with Alex was fun. We didn’t call GGMa but we did have a good time, and I got to see my neurodiverse grandson HAVING A SOCIAL LIFE WITH FRIENDS WHO ALSO HAVE DYED HAIR (three little cis boys with red and pink hair noisily occupying a living room) and once again I was moved to intense and grievous anger that he’s being renovicted and may lose these friends, as children do in moves. I will keep that friendship going if I have to take him on the bus I publicly swear it. Anyway he was invited over and I squared it with his mummabear and we exchanged numbers and his mummabear picked him up. It rained, but not enough to really put out any fires.

He played me something on youtube called Rush E. Don’t bother, it’s a memey thing and your life won’t be better if you look at it. Also he needs to remember to bring his blessed charger with him.

I got him to pick a beat on the Kaossilator and we recorded him playing overtop of that. I will post a fragment when I get around to it and quit panicking about the performance this afternoon.

The counteroffensive has begun. Qapla’ Ukrainy (Success Ukraine in Klingon)

 

a minor change GRADATIM

So… I repointed this one; I changed the instrument from a piano to a harp and asked Finale to use the Human Expression – Funk setting for playback.

Rev 1.4 of Words Fail. The tune is repeated twice. Think of it as being a theme song for a tv show (they are usually one minute long or less) …. obviously with the full orchestral work up!

Happy mother’s day to those who celebrate. The homily for today is in the PDF of all my homilies jammed together in a book.

 

 

May I be conducted to hell

with ‘certain parties’ as my escort.

That was without a doubt (music aside) the most bland and unobjectionable spring festival service I’ve ever been to. There were many mitigating factors so I won’t linger but A. bless her came up to me afterward and said there was entiiiiirely too much God in that service and I could not but agree. Of course if you’re going to suck up to the three remaining and three closeted theists in the group, Easter’s the time to pull da bunny fum da sack. The bunny in this case being a fantastical holy-ish trinity of Reb Jeshua, Ramadan and the seder. I remind myself of mitigating factors and turn to

HOW I GOTS MISTOOK FOR A MAN TODAY while wearing a dress

and earrings that matched my

tights that matched my

decorative scarf in pretty colours that my mother made, and I haven’t worn all those things together in likely a decade at this point, probably church the last time too…. L. greeted me most sweetly and kindly but I was somewhat reserved as I had just put my mask on and my – you know – social anxiety spikes when I’m indoors and masked however ecstatic I am to see various people.

I digress to think about what happens to middle aged women wearing face masks. Bigots don’t want people wearing face masks because they want to be able to ‘clock’ you. You are assigned a gender at birth and wherever you migrate on your gender journey, most people want to believe they can tell and understand when presenting and presumed gender at birth don’t line up. But that doesn’t actually have any bearing on the reason I was mistook for a man…. I be somewhat digressing again, the thing, the evil thing I do for effect.

So I sing tenor now among other things (I recently checked my vocal range and …) and Keith got asked if he was the one providing the harmony. LOLOLOL I was literally as gender presenting as I can physically manage at this point and MY VOICE gave me away as a man, hiding behind a mask I MEAN LITERALLY folks for those who understand …. .

& I don’t mean to boast, but this life of mine gives me the most perfect moments of clarity and solidarity. I’ve been gender non-conforming all my life. I have no problem with my assigned whatever-as-normative, but I keep having little moments like that, and it pleases me. It’s not just the autism that makes me gender divergent; there’s something in me, neither brain nor frame, that makes me other than ‘woman’. Not 100%. Sure, able to do the madonna thing, co nursing your children how hard core. But I am not 100% woman, and I was like that before having Keith literally

And then I fucked it up totally by going off in a classic autistic meltdown with C. May I be conducted to hell. Which was where we came in. But somehow, you know,

—- SCROLL DOWN

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I DIGRESS

Peggy was there and fled as someone else arrived, but I don’t know if the two events were connected so she just might have felt like walking home. I’m going to call her. Maybe she just got sick of the service. As far as I could tell they were still getting people drifting in at half time, including a previously called minister.  (Love what she’s done with her hair.) Rob W was there and sat next to me during the service. In case anyone in the audio radiance thinks there’s anything between us, he told me I was too fat when I approached him after Paul and I broke up and I’ve only gotten fatter since, and I’ve reached the age when perfect isolation from romantic relationships is accompanied by nearly perfect peace. Had a few words with Rose, Marilyn, collected a hug from John, and it was all good. Even with me being a complete ass I still feel better, and Keith bless him dragged me out in good time AND I mailed a letter on the way home. Cast your bread upon the waters (it was a letter to the landlord asking if she had any vacancies this summer), and may Christ and his sanctified angels come to your aid in terms of finding food for delivery in this town today….. I reject McDonalds on this Holy Sunday.

recycling

I read on reddit that a great way to deal with paper if you don’t want to shred it (Jeff has a shredder but I have A LOT OF PAPER TO SHRED) is to turn it into papier mâché and yup, that works – I experimented with 20 year old tax returns yesterday.

Happy Easter for those who celebrate! Reread (or read, lol) my King Jesus homily if you’re in the mood.

Continue reading recycling

Holiday greetings

In no order:

Merry Xmas to the dude on reddit who asked an uncaring universe if he was a nutbar for not taking the Coquihalla this weekend to make it for a family Christmas. I assured him he was not crazy; nothing’s impossible for the person who doesn’t have to do it. When an atmospheric river meets an arctic outflow, wild shit falls from the skies.

To my brother Jeff I wish the very best the ‘holiday’ allows him – which is hilarious given that he’s a phone call away from having to work at any moment – and a wish that at some point over the next couple of days we settle in for some ‘real’ Christmas telly: Die Hard, a Call the Midwife Christmas special, maybe a Lord of the Rings or Hobbit binge. Maybe even watch the King’s Broadcast, if only to mock him roundly. I disdain that boorish manchild.

Love and social distancing to the fOlks; we’re not seeing you this Christmas. Remember when the kids were little? and we were somehow obliged to drive hither thither and yon in The.Worst.Fucking.Weather that Southern Ontario could shove in our faces at the end of its tobacco-stained arm? Those days have passed. We can all thank The Grand Joculator for that blessing. Of course I’d rather be there. But the great thing about being a member of this family is that we don’t chivvy each other into social occasions by nagging and guilting the shit out of each other or trivializing each other’s safety; I find this of more comfort than whatever I can derive in a ferry lineup after four cancellations.

To my Ontie Mary and all of her kin of the Niebuhr line, even the ones that are still convinced Jesus in a UFO is comin’ for the righteous, I extend greetings and best wishes for a quiet, joyous and safe Christmas. Cousinly greets to Shauna, John and Katherine.

To the spirit of Jim P, and his surviving family; I hope you have the best Christmas you can. I love you guys and wish I had something other than my own grief to offer as a gift.

To my friend Peggy, whom I haven’t even called in a month because I’m such a bum, Warmest and Brightest wishes of the season. I don’t think I’ll get those biscotti to you before Christmas. I haven’t been busy; I just keep forgetting to buy almonds, and when I looked at the prices at Rave-on yesterday I damned near died of fright.

To the crows and wee birdies; yes I got peanuts and sunflowers; I will put out feed during the worst of the weather event.

To my friend Dave, shifting on his laurels as a soundly published poet, I offer hopes for a spark of cognition which becomes a flame of output. Yeah, right.  You and I have always been at opposite ends of the word spigot….

To my pharmacist YOU ARE THE FUCKING BOMB. Happy holidays! To any pharmacists reading this, thou as well.

To my doctor; thank you for the latest scrip; after many months my blood pressure is now pretty much normal whenever I record it.

To Sue: may the year ahead be filled with family, love, and the work you have chosen with such distinction and success.

To all my former coworkers at the House of X – even if I didn’t like you very much when I was working with you, how I miss you now! It’s a reminder of how familiarity, and time, shifts all things in our feelings. Thinking of you all at midwinter, with particular effect for Mike (of course, special mention), Jerome (seeing him on the 28th weather willing), Stephanie, Sarah, Glenda, Mohammad, Arzina, Jim, Brian, Tom, Ryan, Carlos, Darryl, Ngoc, Patricia and many others whose faces are clear and whose names I cannot now recall.

To my landlady Kim F, who is currently training her replacement and I cannot tell you how sad this makes me since she is literally one of the people I’ve known longest in this town, I’ll probably never see her again after she quits— You were a really good landlady. Sure glad I didn’t have to call you about a plumber. I hope you have a lovely holiday and your daughter brings you nice presents.

To Tammy, whom I’m supposed to visit with on the 26th. O darlin’, I hope your trip to Vancouver (she’s flying in from Hawaii on Saturday) goes smoothly, but I really don’t think it will. Even so, I wish you the best of this season and my earnest hopes for a lovely day of tooling around the lower mainland seeing sights for Boxing Day. That’s what I wish for us. (We were thinking of getting together with the fam but holy cats with the amount of respiratory crud going through that house I can’t see that being a good idea a-tall.)

For Paul, hopes for a better sounding chest; for Keith, well he already got several denominations of my best wishes for a great Christmas (and promptly spent it on groceries, foreign editions please copy); for Katie, grace and peace for 20 minutes in the middle of her bustling household. In the spirit of Christmas I publicly acknowledge that Daxus is back with Katie and we’re all trying to hold grace for someone making an effort. Katie’s happier. I don’t know what else to say. We’re allowed to change our minds.

To Alex and Ryker; a grandmother’s blessing on you. You’re not getting anything else from me, by order of mammabear.

Ah Suzanne! I have enveloped you as a family member and it’s a wonderful thing. I hope you have the peaceful, joyous and family filled Christmas of your fondest wishes. (Note. Suzanne is Dax’s mother. Suzanne knows how to do blended families and I am doing my best to learn from her.) I hope you have all the gluten free treets yer belleh can hold!  Hope three days a week of Rykercare doesn’t prove too much for you.

Fond greetings to Bonnie.

To Leo and Linda and their lively agglomeration of kids and grandkids: merry and joyous best wishes of the season to you all!

To Catherine C, Bob W, Colin H, Jan & Soon and their kinfolk, my Seattle filkfen, Cindy, Jaz, Elias and Kaitlyn (sp), Lois and Bob, kids and grandkids, Ruth and John & their kids, Juliana & household, Al P., Lorna @ IHOP, all the Doordashers who’ve brought food over the last couple of years (and the nameless kind souls who cooked it), to the people processing images from the JWST, Michael Balter & the rest of the gang on twitter, I wish health, strength, and fortune at Christmas and for the year to come.

 

 

 

 

 

Have yourself a medicated Christmas

Have yourself a medicated Christmas
It’s the only way
wifi connectivity is days away

Please take all your edibles with caution
No fair greening out
Please share or the rest of us will call you ‘lout’.

Now we’re home for the holidays
they’ll be squalid days I know
Cheek by jowl with relations dear
& we’re up to here

with snow

Have yourself a medicated Christmas
As your purse allows
Numb your brain cells, then sit in a chair and drowse
& have yourself a medicated Christmas now

Christmas Void – Jan and Soon’s new cat Count Tricksy

Christmas Void, Christmas Void / hiding by the tree. / Will you ever try to drop the Christmas tree on me OH / Christmas Void, Christmas Void / hiding by the tree. / Will you ever try to drop the Christmas tree on me. / Make the tree to shed / by using it to shred / It is not alive / but not exactly dead (a ZOMTREE) / Festive all our hearts / Seasonal our joy / Now that Tannenbaum is up the cat has got a toy! OH!

 

& repeat until people throw crackers.

Quick visits

I went to the pharmacy finally, start the diuretic this am. I shall pee with even more vigour than I do now, oh doodie.

I visited with Ruth and Lois at Caspell Junction. Both the kids were there. Ruth made a roasted yam and pomegranate seed green salad and I made myself tea and brought the chicken wings I prepared the other day (oven baked from scratch, thank GOD I bought kitchen shears, they make wing prep go MUCH faster). They got reheated along with leftover schnitzel from Balkan house in the air fryer so it was quite a lovely meal of fresh and toasty items.

Lovely (and brief, only two hours) visit, simply topped me up. Ryker is getting molars so he keeps being super busy and then grizzling; chasing after the indoor drone and grizzling, tripping over shit and grizzling. At the same time he was sweet and I got one mini cuddle with him.  Even people he live with swear he’s grown in the last week. He will be his father’s son and simply IMMENSE.

Dax was there and loaned me a DVD; he then left for home to do laundry. How long he and Caspell Junction will be two separate households is anybody’s guess but civility reigned for the occasion so I’m going to keep comments and speculations off line.

Ruth looks great and Lois has grown her hair out long so we’re all silver sisters together. They sat down with Paul previously and worked through many of the issues that have been keeping us up at night with the family and all, and them stepping up like this was matched by how amazingly compliant Paul was with them. Honestly I’d like to see anyone stand before their combined energy and blow them off. Good luck chuckles as John might say.

Keith got his ‘Christmas present’ – money. He intends to buy something entirely frivolous and computer related, which is fine by me. Katie already got her money.

Katie looked happier than I’ve seen her in ages.

THEN in a beautiful example of how nothing happens to me for weeks and then boom, Mike turned up with a new Larrivée spruce top ukelele (for himself I hasten to add) which cost an insane amount of money, but I laughed playing it, it is SO LOUD and the intonation is nothing short of spectacular. I played my ‘Fantasia on the Elementary Theme by Sean Callery’ and ‘the Vancouver song’ and ‘The Friend who bought me this ukelele’ and whatever else I’ve worked up on that instrument and he wants tablature for a couple of those so that will keep me busy; I’ve never used Finale to generate tabs so excellent chance to practice my skills.

We ordered White Spot for delivery (Mike paid, bless him), drank dealcoholized beers, watched some Rick and Morty and rewatched the first ep of Wednesday so Mike could get its measure. Then about 7 he went home. Work continues to be foul and hauling two shifts, one for here and one for training in the Philippines. He’s exhausted and has a permanent sleep deficit and insomnia and he’s just going to collapse if this keeps up but that’s capitalizm for ya.

And of course with that much social contact I was both exhausted and buzzing.

12261 words

wonderful housefilk

Paul was in excellent form and let the singing for a couple of tunes including the Co-pilot song (followed by Cindy’s filk of it for Stargate Atlantis), Save a Fighter Pilot’s Ass, and It takes a lot to laugh it takes a train to cry. He borrowed Jeffrey’s guitar.

Then he did something I had to pull Peggy aside and explain about. Optimism is not the long term plan. Nobody was ‘impacted’ but it was concerning.

Jeffrey and Jeri Lynn were in fine form and have since arrived back home to their cats and their comfy bed, safe. Everyone enjoyed lunch – I ordered from Big Star and Jeffrey and Jeri Lynn are now converts – she got the number 1 which allows you to experience Thanksgiving in a sandwich.

Keith made and Katie containerized beef stew. Unbelievably good although his use of thyme is liberal and to my taste buds lingering at the doorway of excessive. Jeff if you want any better get at it.

Just have to hit save on this; the wind is unbelievable right now and the power could die at any minute. My laptop’s charged, Jeff’s loaner non-phone likewise, I’ve had coffee and stew, let the day drop down on me.

I wrote 41 whole words yesterday. I could say something rude at this point but I’ll do the NYT wordle and my Lumosity training instead in case the power dies.

Alex, bless her, provides the illo

She forwarded a bunch of housefilk pics from The Dawn of Time, let us just say the best part of 15 years. That’s her, Tom L, not sure and Peggy on standup bass (probably sometime around 2007 but why let facts intrude.)

Emotionally the effect of seeing Paul every day for a week is difficult. However he was perfectly happy to be left at Peggy’s at 4 pm, which was my “I’ve been doing unpaid family related babysitting for two different generations for eight hours and I haven’t pull a full work shift since 2017 so I’m done” o’clock. Yes it was nice to see Alex yesterday (he showed off more pictures, and I loaned him the Kaossilator and Keith finally got home from his morning of difficult appointments) and I fed him and got fed on Keith’s tortellini stew (nice because Paul plated and warmed it for me) but I was ready to go home at one and I hadn’t even made it to Peggy’s yet. So he either walked home (1.9 k in perfect weather, well within his max cap) or Jeff C, being one of the good ones, gave him a lift.

When I got home Jeff had supper ready for me. I nearly burst into tears I was so relieved. Then we watched Farscape and Elementary and tried to watch Iké (a movie) but Jeff bailed.

It was delightful and sad to hear Jeff C. relate the circumstances around his father’s death and funeral (the sound system went berserk and yelled in God Voice BE NOT AFRAID while Jeff was at the lectern which is just typical Jeff; the world is an anecdote waiting to be recounted and his life is merely one strand of it.) He also talked about family history and it was very interesting. His father was abandoned by his mother to his grandmother when he was tiny. He had continuity of care but you never get over your mother going WELP DINNA CANNA. And he was organized enough to arrange to buy an anniversary card and sign it while he still could, so he was in the ground four months when his widow got the card…. very organized. Also kind of I don’t know what word to use, uncanny mebbe.

Jeri Lynn spun, using her extremely sophisticated modern spinning wheel (many bits to fall off, and they all tried to at some point), and I got to feel her skeins of unspun wool, including some baby alpaca MAN YOU WANT SOFT you will go into a swoon touching it. She was also previously baking, rolling out spice cookies with a complicated rolling pin when we arrived.

Cindy and Jas were there making Christmas cookies (the real point of the weekend) because Peggy causes someone to bring the spare stove upstairs and then they (the American Thanksgiving baking team) cook nonstop for a couple of days. I am subsidizing lunch today and it will be either ARGO or Big Star. I’m thinking Big Star and I’ll pick up a side salad. Jas was wearing a t-shirt that said ASK ME ABOUT MY HOST ORGANISM and I complimented him on it.

Brooke was in a corner doing a 100 pattern blackwork circle sampler (in multiple colours of course) and swapping Pokémons with Jeri Lynn, Greg was there ingesting hot chocolate and computer games (much as Alex would do were he there).

Finally put gas in the Echo Paul loaned me. I’m considering taking it to someplace to get the fluids checked. I won’t do it and I don’t know when Paul last did.

We didn’t bring instruments. It was my judgement that a) there are enough quality guitars in the house LOL and we haven’t seen Jeff and Jeri Lynn in yonks so let’s visit and do the music the next day (they leave today but later).

I’ll be picking Paul up around 11:30 and then we’ll drive over and I’ll order lunch for the folks. I’ll also pick up a bunch of side salads so we get our veggies.

I feel beat and I just woke up. It will be another long day; enjoyable, but it’s hard.

from theconcealedweapon on tumblr:

What an autistic person says: “How long is it going to take?”

What they mean: “I want to know whether to activate my short term waiting mode where I just wait and do nothing else, or activate my long term waiting mode where I occupy my mind with something else. I fully understand that both are possibilities, and I have no problem whatsoever with either one, but I want more information so I can best adapt to the situation.”

What neurotypical people hear: “I am impatient and demand that everything I want happen right now. Please scold me and publicly humiliate me for it.”

I’ll be talking to the fam about how much I can do with Paul and how many hours in one day/week I can manage, because if this keeps up I’ll get sick. These days I spend so much time every day crying I feel like I’m sick already.

pot8um on twitter:

So many things are out of kids’ control— uncomfy clothes, loud noises, icky food, confusing rules… As an adult, I make my own choices. I wear, eat, and do what I like, because if I don’t, I get overloaded. That’s why I don’t remind you of your 8-year-old autistic nephew.