Category: Food

I thought it was in Portuguese

It was actually in Catalan.  Anyway, it’s an awesome song, and unlike those ghastly times when you go to translate a song and find out that it’s a love song to some aspect of human behaviour you find repellent, the lyrics even in google translate are beautiful. That’s art.  The carelessness of the transmission of the idea does not overcome the idea.

Crashed at Mike’s, we had brekkie at Amelia’s on Sixth and now I’m back here trying to write.  Rozo was in attendance last night.  She’s fretting over the state of the plants.

2020 says she was a difficult person who almost wrecked Mike’s life and man it’s hard not to say more but let’s just reiterate that poly done badly ain’t pretty

We were all so bagged we just sat around and watched the world’s weirdest feed of unlabelled metal videos. One of the bands was Wolf Stone or something like that and they do METAL FUCKING HURDY GURDY HRR FRR and then I got into thinking about how metal iconography is just so much more respectful to women than contemporary rock or rap and that just made me rock back on my drunken, prime-rib stuffed heels a bit.  Then there was an amazing metal video – the external shots made me think it was set in Montreal – the visuals were mind bending.  Lots of screaming.  More flailing.  Finally the feed more or less died and I realized I was not actually keeping my eyes open any more so I faceplanted.

Now writing or something. Jeff’s gone to get rat traps.

Practice day

I couldn’t write, I couldn’t work on the church project, I was swithering like a’ idiot, so I said it’s a Mental Health Day and when Paul called and said, “Let’s give blood” I said “What a great idea but I can’t stand it for today.  I’m coming to your place with my mandolin on my back.” So I walked over there and it started to rain just as I got to the stairs and he left the front door open and I went up the back stairs so he had to go lock his front door and we had a good laugh about that and then I played Ain’t No Rest For The Wicked for him, which he hadn’t heard before.  I left him the lyrics and chords, and played it enough times that he started to work up some guitar and I started to practically bleed out my finger ends. It hurts to type today, bwa ha ha. Then we played our way though a couple of Oscar Brand air force tunes, I played my way through the In the Lineup for the Ferry song (I had played it through once and this time he could play along) and then we dawdled and noodled and messed about for a couple of hours, him marvelling that I FINALLY have the intonation problems sorted out on Otto.  He’s been out of sorts since GAFilk and he’s now perfect (gotdamn that floating bridge!!! it’s the one thing Peter C. did when he was making Otto that I hate) and if anything he’s louder and more resonant than before. Then I played Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked AGAIN a couple of times because I’ve shifted how I play it a bit, and was now comfortable enough that a) the tune as sung was actually sounding a bit more like the recording and b) the chord structure still doesn’t sound like the recording but it’s better.  Then I told him that if we ever play it when Katie and Keith are present for music night they will be singing along with the choruses – Katie and I had it as part of the ‘get going’ music mix for the café – and Keith knows it from the opening titles of Gearbox’s video game Borderlands, which we used to rewatch all the time because it’s like the best opening title in gaming.

Then he fed me lentil soup and beer and crusty white bread toasted with butter and a Non Refrigerated apple – the last apple he served for me nearly made my back teeth pick up their skirts and flee, it was so durn cold – but I admired his new fridge, for a net cost of $175 he got a bottom drawer freezer Kenmore with the door hung the right way although he did nearly spavin himself getting it up the stairs and he now has to replace all the brand new nosing for the stair treads ’cause they all have divots in them now.  (It looks like an alien dragged its nasty bits up to the first floor.) Apparently Keith hated the old fridge and did handsprings when he saw the new one and realized that HE wasn’t going to get roped into hauling it up the stairs (his job is very physical) or getting the old one out.

I told him about Replens, as Lady Miss Banjola had told me about it, and how along with eye drops the advice given ensured my life was a better place, except it’s FRIKKIN expensive and could he find eight packs in the States for me and he said he’d look.

We discussed putting together a book of family stories from his side of the family, while his mum’s still with us (doing fine apparently), as inspired by mOm’s numerous efforts, talked about some flying he’d been doing (he’s enjoying the soaring in Enumclaw, and of course I crack up every time I hear that name, for all the wrong reasons.) We talked about Keith and Katie and their marvellous young lives and challenges, the retirement party he went to at the Shark Club (where, apparently, the last pleasant drink servers in the lower Mainland have taken refuge) and the highly excellent noms he ingested there.

Then he took me for a quick shop including healthy food and unhealthy noms and beer AND helped me haul in groceries.  If there is a nicer ex in the whole universe then whoever has him / her isn’t publicly bragging.

Then at home we watched a couple of titles from the second season of POI and I turned the steak into itty pieces and cooked it fast with mushrooms and lots of onions and chili seasoning, not too much, and so to bed, where I got 2.2 hours on the cpap and am now ready to start another day, and maybe get a little more done.  Maybe.  Not a betting woman normally.

Beautiful day

It’s not even 8 am and I’ve made word count already.  I think I’ll go make some breakfast and coffee.

1.8 hours last night.  I cleaned the tube on the machine so I’m feeling much better about it.

Someone I used to work with got the job I really wanted.  I am very happy for him, and even happier for me, because I am writing, and I don’t want to stop.  And I would probably stop or slow down if I was working full time.

Yesterday Paul and Mike and Keith took me out to dinner at the Indian Bistro on 6th.  It was absolutely lovely, and the okra dish WAS PHENOMENAL.  So glad Paul ordered it.

Tomorrow night, Musical Evening at Paul’s, and the night after that, Circle Dinner at Heather and Ian’s for church.  Then church on Sunday.  The weekend looks busy.  If the weather is good there is always the possibility I’ll go to Wreck on Saturday.  If I feel like being too exhausted to go to the Circle Dinner that is, so, no.

The last episode of Justified was amazing.  The last scene between Timothy Olyphant and Walton Goggins is breathtaking.  They did it right.

Back to writing… Kima just squeezed Pharos out and has returned to the surface to check unheard messages.

 

Moar beer!

Picked up some Phillips Hop Circle IPA on the way home from our walk yesterday.  I was actually napping when Paul called; we got Phyllis’ letter to the post office, and walked, and I deposited a cheque, and returned home to get some spaghetti into us and watch our Tuesday TV.

And oh, the walk.  I have NEVER seen so many wild seals at once.  At one point, directly in front of the discovery centre, there were five seals, all facing into the stream, and quite close to shore.  We also saw the N American variant of the Common Merganser, a breeding pair of them, and heard their bizarre call at least once (I had to look it up to confirm) and we saw another breeding pair of ducks which were much smaller and which I could not for the life of me identify.

I got some video of them but damn they were far away.

We also saw a real range of dogs including the world’s oldest and mellowest pit bull, who sweetly accepted a pat.  Paul insisted on buying me gelato, so I insisted that he buy the lime mojito (So Tart, and the mint flavour at the finish, So Divine) and I got Pannacotta, which is wimpy of me I know.

2.9 hours!

Bean paste

Among other things, that’s what Katie fed me for lunch yesterday.  Alex dumped a coke all over our booth, the little bugger.  Argh.

I got a call back from the company I most recently interviewed for.  I will be gang interviewed by 4 lots of people over two hours.  Once again, I’m prepping in all seriousness, but I’m not going to be downcast if I don’t get it; I’m qualified for the job and I need to remember that, looking for other work.  Look for how it went next Friday morning, unless I post Thursday afternoon late.

0 hours on cpap, I actually forgot to put it on last night.  Tonight I shall try again.

Walked 4 k yesterday; I was about crippled when I got home, but hey, 270 calories were burned.  It was raining, and Alex slept through the whole thing.

Walkies

Paul and I had a simply lovely walk down at the Quay and then he treated me to sopa de tortilla and hot chocolate, both of which were simply scrumptious (Paul owned to being impressed at how fast I demolished the soup).  We didn’t give blood, thanks to things&stuff because reasons, but there’s an appointment later this week.

I broke down and made an appointment to get a crown, having previously thought that handing over a month’s income was a bit much and then I realized I was being a moron.  I can borrow the money, I can sell stuff to cover it, I can put it on my credit card.  It really hurts – I’m in constant tooth pain – and we KNOW how this story goes.  Until the tooth comes out, it’s all downhill from here.  And it’s all because there was a piece of metal in a pancake at IHOP two years ago.  Shit.

Doxie sent me another scanning unit, which took a charge promptly and which I am about to test.  DOXIE HAS AWESOME CUSTOMER SUPPORT Y’ALL and considering what a tempestuous clown I was asking for support it goes double.

Keith and Paul and Jeff and I hung out after the walk.

Tarot reading yesterday with a friend.  It was essentially the same as the last one, in that it said “Shit’s gonna fly, everything will be okay at the end.”  More specifics don’t seem to be coming.  The future’s uncertain and the end is always near.

Katie is hopefully coming Friday, with Alex, to cut my hair.

Hmmm

Slept away from home last night; Mike was really late getting out of work for our celebratory “You had an interview!” dinner and we picked up some beer and went back to his place.  About 9 I pumpkined out on the couch… and slept straight through until 6 am this morning, which I haven’t done in yonks. (I only had two beers, for those attempting censoriousness).

Mike fed me coffee with vanilla ice cream, and carrot cake marmalade courtesy of Cassidy, and toast.  We drank coffee on the balcony and watched the morning sun wash over the landscape, which was chilly but most pleasant.

I light a candle for a friend whose mother has just been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  I feel for her.  The 5 year survival rate is crappy.  Heavy heart.

Playing catch up

Saturday I was at Mike Beach, Sunday was church, which was excellent.  Sue fetched me to and fro, and the minister gave a really excellent sermon. Last night 3.2 hours on the cpap, which makes me really happy because I skipped a night and I was wondering what was going on. I didn’t have a problem with the mask fitting but I woke up with my right eye pretty much glued shut because I forgot the Liposic.  I was hoping Katie and Alex would come to church but they didn’t make it.

Salmon, rice and cauliflower for dinner last night, which was unfortunate, because I set off the burnt offering alarm.

I had some wonderful news over the weekend but for the news to be presentable I have to do some work this morning; I’m going to go through the take-off checklist and get going on that, starting with going downstairs and getting some coffee, since it’s obvious I’m not going back to sleep.

I’ve been watching a debate between an white Jewish woman ally commentator and a black man who’s a media activist.  The woman is suffering from GCAS (Golden Child Ally Syndrome) and the man is not anything but long suffering.  As much as I love being the centre of attention and being told I’m necessary for the proper running of the world, when a person of colour is telling me about his experience I’m supposed to a) listen, b) believe him, c) leave my defensiveness at home d) consider what I’ve learned on my own time in my own space and e) not flip out on social media and encourage a bunch of sock puppet accounts to attack him to try to get him banned from various places (like what the ever loving fuck is up with that??) and jack in the box squawks about hypocrisy, intersectional privilege and ‘what are you making this all about race’ which was so fucking tone deaf I wanted to pole vault through the phone with a punch in the snoot as my opening gambit. I didn’t pile on her, but I did snark hard on a few of the more clueless sock puppets..  Now maybe it all started for me because I was married to a black man during a period when the Toronto cops were randomly shooting black guys with mental health problems (not that this disproportional bs has stopped, but that one summer was not a fun time) and maybe it’s super easy for me to be convinced I’m an SJW  because I’m essentially an evil person who’s a race traitor but my narcissism makes me think I’m an ally –  but I wish that people who are white and left wing could parse their own outrage with more intelligence and humility.  Listening won’t kill you and it’s not safe for POCs to be around you as you’re processing your feelings, since you’ll probably say something racist and not even realize it because duh intersectionality.

Read

Listen

Go away and think about it

Integrate

Reiterate

Engage when your heart is soft

 

Folkfilk I accomplished

“Folkfilk I” accomplished! Planet Bachelor v3.0 has been housewarmed!

1. Paul, *while cleaning up* thanked me profusely for arranging it. Hey I just wanted it at your place so neither Peggy nor I had to clean up afterwards. But that, my friends, is what makes Paul, Paul.
2. SO lovely to hear Alexis Hinde singing again, and her swansong was Amanda F. Palmer’s Ukelele Anthem, which Brian, Paul, Mike and I enjoyed immensely.
3. Finding out Hal trains people in medieval Japanese martial arts, specially with pole weapons = win. Also, he is a very flash guitarist.
4. Chili got et, but not all of it, so my brother gets some. Peggy brought plum cake.
5. Brian C. has an extremely lovely electric guitar and his noodlings added that je ne sais quoi of 60’s twang and reverb.
6. Brooke Abbey sang “The Wreck of the…..” to the plaudits and open amusement of the crowd. Peggy chimed in with that bowed bass which provides the one moment of gravitas. Plus I asked for “It’s just so nice when someone knows your name.”
7. Next one’s at Lunders in a couple of weeks, more deets later, and the one after that at my place (Geekhaus). Everybody wants more, so why not??
8. My evil plan to relieve the Lunders of every last one of their kazoos continues apace. Mine is an etc etc etc.

Some progress

Used CPAP last night.  The Liposic allowed me to open my eyes without creaking this morning (still dreffle dry, but not the :spend twenty minutes thinking sad thoughts to get my tear ducts to work so I can open them: dry of yesterday morning, which was a horrid start to the day). My new routine is Liposic at night since I can’t see a ****ing thing when I put that stuff in, and Systane in the morning since it is much runnier.  I am also going to start supplementing with evening primrose oil again and start monitoring how many hours a day I am at the computer and watching tv, which will probably horrify me into a neurasthenic stupor.  Also I have to drink water or tea instead of coffee, GRRR.

The congregational dinner was absolutely lovely and I sang Tapioca, but my almost new medical problem (self-diagnosed from symptoms, so YMMV, and almost certainly triggered by my slip and fall in the shop although the broken shoulder got all the attention) fixed it so that by the end I was barely able to walk, drive or lift anything, which given that I was on the cleanup crew didn’t halp.  I am good for about 2.5 k of walking before the pain is so bad I start to waddle (which is characteristic) and all the strength goes out of my legs, (ditto). When I got out of bed this morning all the bones in that region of my body grated and popped like a ship’s rigging in bad weather.

As this is almost certainly the consequence of not having proper foot support and wearing the same shoes day in and day out (which Chipper has warned me about many times) I need to drag myself off to the doc and get a scrip (again, I lost the first one) for  foot support and to quit walking barefoot in the house, since anytime I put my foot to the floor without arch support I’m just being an idiot and making it worse.

Last night as I was driving home a passenger jet came so close to the ground as I was driving along 10th between 8th and 6th that I nearly drove off the road, and then it BANKED like it was heading into the ground.  I have no problem with jets flying over my house as long as they are 1000 ft AGL like they are supposed to be, but that close scared the bejabbers outta me.

Chili and buns for today’s meal has been prepared or purchased.  I’ll head over to Planet Bachelor at some point after church.

So tired… all I can think of is coffee, and I shouldn’t.

a visit

Keith and Paul came over yesterday and we watched chunks of Ken Burns’ The Civil War and went for a walk in the glorious sunshine. It was lovely to have Keith here.

I made chocolate chip oatmeal flax cookies. And now they are gone, surprise surprise.

I found this article on weight loss really interesting.

 

And, for Midnite Moving, this looks kinda interesting as well.  Mostly because it helps solve the problem (by reframing what’s possible) of how George moves electricity around his body when he doesn’t have, you know, organs.

It’s early, but I think I’m going to go for a walk.  And….. I did go for a walk.  The weather is quite pleasant.

A brief exchange of food

Paul dropped by yesterday morning on the way to work to drop off a cheque for his half of the baby carriage (which it turns out Alex loathes unless it’s moving). He brought fresh bread (cousin Jim’s recipe) and I had a container of home made rice pudding (strangely, IN a commercial rice pudding container).  He couldn’t stay so we chucked food at each other and he left.

Buster got out the door.  He paused (like a moran) on the deck to inhale the sweet air of freedom – and I chucked him back in the house.  He doesn’t hate me but he was not amused.

He gets snipped on Tuesday.  The whole house smells like pee, sigh, but we have a plan to deal with that as Buster recuperates.  I will be ever so glad when he can FINALLY get off the cone of shame.

I’ve put some items on craigslist for sale. No responses yet.

My day so far

I’ve climbed back on the writing horse, but since it’s edits I can’t really say OH I WROTE THIS MUCH TODAY.  It’s going well.  I have to figure out how to represent targets though.  Manuscript pages edited?  Dunno, that seems most likely.

I baked bacon for BLTs and made up ingredients so they are ready to go.

I watched the last Hobbit movie.  It was quite well done, although purists will be shuddering from head to foot for the duration.  I am not a purist.

I went for a walk in the predawn murk and fetched cream for coffee and milk for tea, to keep that writer’s support of caffeine flowing.

Poor Hannah, the gal who was supposed to help yesterday, was sick. I was sick all the bloody time when I was her age.  Now I literally cannot remember the last time I had anything resembling a cold or flu; how much I’m washing my hands might have something to do with that.

So many people, including the visitors from last week, volunteered that it made life much easier; the soup lunch is always quite chaotic, and then there was a business meeting at the end of it that I was just as happy to stay out of. I had Peggy’s turkey soup.  It was quite yummy.

I wore my brown snowflake motif pj’s and my steampunk hat, and was complimented.  Seriously. By everybody from Jane (who has an identical set in purple, it’s like she’s my time twin or something) to the minister, who cracked up and then told me she admired my sense of style.  The only places in the world that make me feel anything approaching the same level of acceptance, in order of closeness, Mike’s place, Planet Bachelor (but only when Janice isn’t there…. ha ha), Tom and Peggy’s, my fOlks’, Conflikt and Polycamp. I am a lucky hound, f’sure.

I told Rob to invite himself to supper sometime.  He was happy to hear it.

I’m selling printer ink on Craigslist – buyer is supposed to show up tonight around supper.  There’s nothing like buying $75 of ink and having the fucking printer promptly quit.  I’m letting it go for cheap just to get it out of the house.

Sue drove me home again, home again, and then off to an audition.  I hope I’m like her in 18 years!!

Katie didn’t come to church but she just posted that Alex rolled from his back to his tummy.  I wonder if and when he’s going to start crawling.

Margot stared me into throwing a treat to her this morning.  I can’t wait for Buster to get fixed, he’s so lively, even with the cone of shame, that it’s quite exhausting for her.

I dejunked my phone this morning.  I took out a hundred phone numbers, mostly for the café, which, duh, I no longer need, and 1.2 gigs of crapware.  Go me.

I got enough sleep last night! I went to bed at 8 pm and woke up at 5, which is wonderful.

Here are the cinnamon buns I made yesterday.

Cinnamonbuns

 

 

Vampire, pass by

Paul and I gave blood yesterday. (I drained in 8 minutes, a new personal record!) He was joshing with the phlebotomist and she turns to me and asks if she can trust him and I said, blandly, “He’s my ex so I’m the wrong person to ask” which triggered much hilarity. Paul clots so fast he literally does not have to put pressure on the sticking point, and the vampire didn’t believe him. I bruise like crazy so I follow the instructions.
 
I know it sounds kinda weird but I think of giving blood as a kind of communion; it connects me to strangers who need my help, and it connects me with John, who gave a lot of blood over the course of his life, and it connects me to the rest of my family; Katie and I and Paul and Keith all give blood when so able, and mOm gave gallons when she was a nurse.
I drove both ways.  Traffic was good, traffic was good.
Around 7 I felt like all the air had been let out of my tires so I crashed; looks like I got a solid 8 hours of sleep.
Sue and I had a lovely (and for me, hobbitly) breakfast at Ricky’s on Lougheed Coquitlam yesterday.  We noted a side room which might work okay for pub night although there’s no good transit close by; she’s going to advise the minister.
Just learned that South Fraser is being kicked out of their home.  I light a candle for them finding space cheap, fast, painlessly.
I have a song that the Conflikt folks really like in this year’s songbook, so even if I can’t go (money…) I will still represent.
Archer’s back!

Bring out the festal CHHHHEEEEESE

So the sometimes annual Feste du Fromage was yesterday, at Patricia’s place. It was lovely to see her and Leanne again; I got sleepy for a second but came to eventually to get talkative again; considering I’d been up since 2 am and didn’t leave until 11 I think I did okay.  I brought cheese, which was definitely hauling coal to Newcastle.

SO HAPPY TO HAVE CHEESE in the fridge.  Because cheese makes everything yummy. ALSO I watched a cheesy movie, The Boxtrolls, earlier that day, so it was really really a lot of cheese to take in. Tracy Morgan’s voice acting in this movie, while terse IS HILARITY.  “I think I’ve lost a lot of blood” is his longest line…. it’s worth it.