Category: Filk

Coughing has slowed to a crawl

Thank goodness. I’m very dehydrated so I should go have something yummy to drink.

LOVERLY chat with the fOlks last night, pOp got in on the act by saying he didn’t know what to say, which also is typical. We were happy about a dentist appointment being cancelled and rescheduled until when pOp can lie in the arms of Morpheus during the appointment. Yeah, painless dentistry is much preferred.

Other than that the fOlks sound fine which is cheering. They admitted that it’s weird having a 65 year old daughter. But as I pointed out, a 65 yo daughter WITH DAMNED GOOD HAIR. From the video Sunnie Larsen took. I look BLONDE under the lights. You can see Cindy’s back and Miles Vorkosigan in the reflection.

 

and so con ends

I have so many thoughts and feelings. My intimates have been made aware of the worst of it (there is a worse, but it’s getting better as they say) and the good is little spangles of art and conversation, the gifts each of us bring to circle (a poem recited about the sailor who has no coin and must trick his way across the Styx, a pan pipe forced to play out doors because of the fucking panini / con rules, Ann Prather singing Practice Practice Practice and a ghastly hilarious song about how sore your balls are after a vasectomy, in-character Bilbo singing a song about what a bunch of dipshits the dwarves are, That’s Not Gneiss, which I think was written by a Geology professor in the 50s and made it into the filkbuche, ably sung by Cecilia Eng, Eric of the Faithful Sidekicks singing a song about various jobs that is a PUN IN EVERY LINE, Miles Vorkosigan singing a song about a naked man running down a street (he’s a defence lawyer, nuff said eh pOp) and yet more besides).

The con candidly apart from the merch room that one open circle and individual convos was a bust but I got a road trip with my best pals so I WON. And we were good roommates, no huhu.

another lovely day along the waterfront

Much more overcast today. Winds were apparently howling in owld Burnaby last night if the weather channel isn’t lying.

Briefly participated in a filk last night and then kind of emotionally imploded (it was a filk memorial) and THEN learned that Frank Hayes is in hospital and since I had just put his concert on my list of things to do I was most upset. I did wish him a speedy and uneventful recovery. It was awesome to hear Dornbeast memorialize Creede Lambard by singing one of his songs, and Cecilia Eng memorialized Zander Nyrond (a long time fannish filk favourite of John’s.) Cindy and I sang Brooke’s Last Page for John and OH GOD I was done already and fled the scene. Peggy and I stayed in the hotel room and Cindy did the singin’ and playin’ the rest of the night. I love con, but it’s emotional and I’m just not used to having to manage all them big feels and the ‘panini’ hasn’t made it easier. (Panini is slang for the pandemic “WORST.SANDWICH.EVER”)

Amazing to have a bath while Peggy’s playing bass along with the blues program on CBC on Friday night, she made the fixtures ring. And of course I felt a lot calmer after washing my hair, although the hot water just …. stopping … was tiresome. I had enough to finish up. The hotel shampoo is quite nice.

This morning I swear I am going to not be a fucking turnip, but the odds are even. I’ve taken my pills AND BRUSHED MY TEETH AND APPLIED DEODORANT don’t all rush to thank me at once and apparently there’s a food truck next to the banquet entrance right this second so many that’s where I’ll get brekky?

Also, apart from the cold, I fucking love this hotel. It’s very accessible. AND THE BANQUETTES TUCKED INTO EVERY CORNER HAVE POWER OUTLETS BUILT INTO THEM so you can sit in a sunny nook, charge your laptop and drink your coffee and keep an eye down the corridor where your friends are.

I didn’t bring all of my laptop charger and Peggy loaned me hers. She had no idea what she was going to do with a laptop she said but she brought it anyway.

Oh, and hospitality’s open too now. I should feed. Where the fuck did I leave my american money? A smile won’t git me breakfast.

halos on Mars

isn’t it stunning? This is actually a computer graphic, but apparently that’s what they’d look like. Researchers sought them but haven’t found them yet.

 

I have a month to get ready for Orycon. I have to admit that I’m jealous of all of Shad’s wonderful patches she’s sewn onto her guitar case, so now I’m going to announce my probably useless plan to sew patches on MY guitar case (Smokey’s going to the con, I don’t know if both ukes and the mando are going. I really want to take the dulcimer but then I keep thinking I’ll borrow Jeff C’s but I’m not 100% sure he’s going. Anyway, I have to figure all of that out. ANYWAY while tearing my craft boxes apart for patches I found Granny’s little Hummel girl on mesh, so SHE’S going on my guitar case and then I can carry Granny around with me every time I sing and play. I’m going to try to find some of the crochet work Grandma Zoos made and tack that on too, mebbe make a mesh pocket of it.

I need to select, assemble and print/PDF a filk-büche, practice until my fingies hurt, sew some patches, select and pack clothing,

Brief break for crafty Black woman! I freaking love the hat.

SHAD’S HAT THAT SHE CROCHETED AS PART OF HER CARPAL TUNNEL THERAPY. (SHAD IS CINDY, CINDY IS SHAD.)

is it not of surpassing excellence and tremendous beauty???? SAY IT ALOUD

So I’m ripping stuff apart in the craft area of my room (which I have to compress down into JUST ONE BOX lol AND I FOUND THE PERFECT PURPLE SPARKLY EMBROIDERY FLOSS TO MEND MY PURPLE TIE DYE TSHIRT WITH. SO I guess this morning has been a success so far.

I’m going to the Con!

 

 

Early one morn on a unicorn, well, I launched a rocket ship!
and I wore my silks and tie dyes and gave mundane life the slip
It cost me more than I could afford but I had to take the trip
for I have you all to thank that I’m a filker!
We sing the sweetest music and we laugh the loudest laughs
The robots sell their spares to hear, the wizards pawn their staffs
the circle calls in the function halls for a chorus fine and free
You can keep your wretched autotune –

it’s a filker’s life for me!

Having a pout

I am pouting. I know what I’m going to do about it though, I’m going to concentrate on my own problems and give myself a break from anyone else’s.

Alex will be here shortly. I’ve laid out all my pills for a week, and started the dishwasher, and booked the Echo in for work today, and started drafting a list of the songs I’ll put into the Allegra Filk Büche.

IT WAS SO NICE TO SING WITH CINDY YESTERDAY.

OH HE BROUGHT DONUTS FROM HIS MOTHER.

Peaceful morning

Buster came out, butted Alex’s shin with his head, and in general greeted him. It was a scattershot day yesterday but in general it worked out okay.

I’d love to do a complete teardown on how I get Alex to and from school BUT OF COURSE this is the internet and I do not want to give total strangers access to how I move an 8 year old around.  He will be 9 in less than two weeks. Isn’t it amazing how fast they grow.

HIS MOTHER SUPPLIED WEEKS WORTH OF SCHNACKEROOS

So many snacks.

Cheese, fruit, yogurt drinks, cookies. A panoply of snackertude.

Now to run the dishwasher so there are plates to serve them on lol.

Writing is on the back burner. I have a con to rehearse for!! I only have 45 more days!! That’s right, November 10-12th I will be at the fully masked con Orycon 43 in Portland! It’s a gencon not a filkcon but there are LOTS of filkers in Portland. So looking forward to it!

In the market for singing masks now.

Looting Corpses with You rev 2.

The moon is high and bright
It bathes a ghastly blight
Upon a battlefield
With flinty stabs of light
The little things we like to do
Will keep us ever close and true
Oh how I bless the moon
For I will soon
go looting corpses with you.

Their boys put up a fight
You know it don’t seem right
But we survived the fray
And now sneak out at night
The CO will find fools to scold
until he sees that shiny gold
Oh how I bless the moon
For I will soon
go looting corpses with you.

He used to mock my clothes
Swear he’d bite off my nose
And now he’s lying here
He don’t smell liiiiike no rose
And how I bless each little turn of fate
Their horsemen arrived two hours too late
It is now past noon
And pretty soon
I’ll be counting silver with you
Another happy memory
of looting corpses with you.

New Song – Looting Corpses with You

Looting Corpses with you

(with a Latin beat, (alas I could not determine which one, but I will eventually) sung by a single voice with guitar, trumpet and percussion accompaniment, and descriptively it’s the ‘Dah dit dit dit Dah dit dit dit’ rhythm, whatever the hell that is)

This song is, quite obviously, dedicated to the memory of John Caspell.

 

The moon is high and bright
It sheds a ghostly blight
Upon a battlefield
With chilling points of light
The little things we like to do
Will make us ever close and true
Oh how I bless the moon
For I will soon
go looting corpses with you.

Their boys put up a fight
You know it don’t seem right
But we survived the fray
And now sneak out at night
The CO will find fools to scold
until he sees that shiny gold
Oh how I bless the moon
For I will soon
go looting corpses with you.

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)

 

busy all of a sudden

FINALLY got my bloodwork done, should be ready for the doc by the time I see her for the video chat. The venipuncturist was SO SLICK IT WAS REVELATORY. I literally didn’t feel a thing and she took three fast tubes with collapsing or bruising anything. It’s very amusing when the ripping off of the little round bandaid causes more irritation than the stick….

Keith picked me up and we went to Peggy’s. As we were driving along Armstrong a VERY TALL MAN came into view and I said, “That’s Joe.” He was looking bummed because even though he knew that he was low on gas…. he ran out. We drove him back to Peggy’s (well it’s his home too now) and he dealt with his car and Keith prepped a flatbread lunch (pesto-spread flatbread with fresh mozz and sauteed peppers (WHY WON’T THIS VERSION OF WORDPRESS COPE WITH SPECIAL CHARACTERS THANKS I HATE IT) as well as a delicious spinach salad, and which included extras of each flatbread to be taken over to the OTHER of Peggy’s son’s houses down the hill, but not for Ben because he can’t have yeast.) And Peggy devoured it, with the kind of obvious glee that makes me continuously glad she picked herself out of the crowd to be my ersatz oldest sister. She’s about to get on an airplane and go visit one of her sisters, may many blessings ensue. I was reminded that Cindy’s giving a Zoom concert on Saturday and asked to get my ass over there and provide backup singing support so I’ll email her and find out if she actually wants me to do that.

Keith talked about housing while we were there. It was a dark and emotional convo as one can imagine.

Part of Keith’s emotional turmoil is that he’s really connected with his two nephews and the idea of not being part of their daily care is grieving him.

THEN I found out I get Alex today all day because it’s a Pro-D Day so he’ll turn up with his electric candy apple red hair and tablet sometime between 8 and 9 this morning and go home when his mama picks him up. I have plans for his day.

THEN Mike’s 12v portable cooler was delivered here (for the Delica). (That’s because the Porch Pirates of Burnaby are EXCEEDINGLY ACTIVE IN HIS BUILDING, like they steal food deliveries as well as parcels.) He’s had so many packages stolen that he’s asking to have stuff delivered here instead. So I called Mike and he came and got it and most of the cooking gear he left here Sunday, although the metal chopsticks I gave him apparently took a walk and I reused one of his bowls after I cleaned it, yay ADD. He couldn’t stay because he had to make a grocery run.

I gave him his Um Suleiman kufiyah on Sunday, forgot to mention that. (Genuine Palestinian kufiyah in ladybug colours.) He really liked it and it will match pretty much anything in his wardrobe. I should have waited for his B-day in July but who the hell knows what tomorrow will bring and I wanted to do it NAOW.

Working on ‘understanding short sentences’ with Buster. I keep having to remind myself that UNLESS he’s already ‘primed’ for a behaviour he needs 8-10 seconds processing time to understand and respond to the verbal cue. (Margot needed a stunning 18 seconds to respond to anything.) “Door open” “Cat door closed” “wet food upstairs” “Daddy went downstairs” “Want brush?” “Want to train?” “Jump up for the one two three” (I always put exactly three cat treats on the tuffet in a terrifically underthought attempt to get him to learn counting words.) Also continued to train Oreo at Planet of the Renovicted. Sam is untrainable. (Like most cats with Bengal markings if you don’t get ’em really young.)

excelsior or word to that effect

Helped Paul dejunk yesterday. Always painful for two people with ADD who lived together for a quarter of a century. Of course I was essentially dejunking JOHN’s stuff and when did he die exactly? Anyway, there was his photo book from his trip to Okinawa, the brown belt, the blue belt, a couple of his shirts, a whole bunch of his gloves. Everything but the photo book off to the Goodwill. Regular books, too. “Loving what is” ?? – rather that you weren’t there at all, actually. Recycled the notes for his Avionics course (I asked Paul to do that, I couldn’t face tossing so much of his work, but he’ll never need it again.) I found yet another one of John’s filk books, this one more tailored to group work, and absconded with that, also a watch that I don’t know works. I also found a first season DVD set of Rocky and Bullwinkle, that one will be a keeper for sure. Moved any toys or kid stuff into the appropriate place.

He expected me to mock him for how many self-help books he has. Oh, no honey. You fought to understand yourself your whole life.

Really felt like I’d helped. We went for a walk in the POURING, ASS FREEZING COLD RAIN and then continued the work and then I went home. I hope to have the energy to do my own dejunking today.

Wordle in 4 – shoulda been 3 – one top five score in Lumosity – 288 words on fic – absolutely no other labour performed because I was a tired piglet after my morning with the mouse turds and the ex husband and the finding of some of my stuff in with his….

Although I’m not a fan of the carceral state the prospect of Tht Fcking Gy being forced to deal with arrests and lawsuits and depositions for the rest of his (hopefully short) natural life does please me.

Someone wanted me to advice who’s my fave Star Wars character. There he is, Captain Carson Teva, played with affable steel by Canadian Paul Sun-Hyung Lee. Anybody who weeps in sentimental gratitude when he’s given a chance to wear Biggs’ helmet from the original Star Wars deserves the role. (That’s not what he’s wearing in this photo btw.)

little bit of everything day

Yesterday I got a key to the Junction FINALEMENT jfc and did a teeny bit of child care coverage while Keith had to run errands and then we put away the groceries that were delivered and Rob W was in the middle of moving and took a two teacup restorative break and we caught up.

Later me and Jeff and Mike watched Frank Grillo and Beau Knapp in Little Dixie, an unapologetically violent and cynical movie with a happy ending.

Today FILKING at Peggy’s

22847 TB, 835 words on new fic.

Image

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.