Category: Food

Running around

My bifocals are ready.  I go pick them up tomorrow.  My video is ready.  I’m too tired to figure out how to upload it to Youtube.  The cheque from the house proceeds came through – but there is a snag and a catch, as always, which I am not at liberty to talk about, except that everything is fine but for the delay.  Had dinner with Katie K (the moussaka was unbelievably good, I never had better) and did a brief shop afterwards as I have to cook something for the church supper tomorrow.

Like I said, a lot of running around.

CAN car messenjah, Penny partay, enough sleep.

So I agreed to take the billing info from the two cars up here on the hill into the folks at CAN each month, and I’ve been so busy dating I hadn’t done it until last night.  I gave Katie K a call and she met up with me and we did the wanderaround together, which is way more fun than wandering around alone, and I got beer at the Granville station and she mentioned that there is a get together of a bunch of her relations and friends at the Penny on Hastings, so we hit that just as the mob was leaving and ate really superlative greasy spoon Chinese food.  Then we came back here and crashed like a British paratrooper (extremely poor taste reference) since between her recent dental surgery and my white nights we were just this side of exhausted.  I actually got enough sleep last night which is amazing – I’ve been experiencing a lot of sleep deprivation.

Last night I dreamed that I was a man wearing a robe and I had to scold a girl about 6 years old for abandoning her post. (She was playing with another little girl instead of listening to a monitoring device.) I was so angry I turned away from her so I wouldn’t immediately start yelling, and she obligingly got up and stood in front of me so I could start my tirade. Then I woke up.

Katie K says she dreamed that she kept trying to introduce me to myself and I kept saying that I wasn’t interested.

Those two dreams taken side by side are pretty funny, especially in Jungian terms.  I must go away and think about them.

Ow-iest moments in sports

For most of these shots, I was ducking into my chair and wincing.  Ow ow ow.

Don’t assume the best shots are all at the beginning,  there are corkers all the way through.

I FORGOT TO PUT THE KEY BACK in the car last night.  I guess I am still needing to work on my manners.  When I ran downstairs to let the next guy have the car I saw the most gorgeous man I’ve seen in years.  Like, every guy I’ve ever had a crush on, and Tom Baker too.  Swoon.  And of course I had to apologize to him.  Hope I see that one again, when he loomed up out of the fog I thought my heart would stop.

Tom and Peggy fed me and the hordes Sunday dinner. Roast pork, salad and taters and corn, and I helped with salad.

I forgot to mention I ran into the gals who run Laff Riot Girls when I was brunching with Katie C on Saturday.  And then a pedicure – Katie’s new job involves a lot of standing and I felt like babying her.
Off to work soon…..

gRR.

I thought I posted a whole bunch of funny links this morning and I bailed out of Firefox before I hit Publish.  Shakyfisty.

My daycard today was 0 – The Fool.  Gulp.

Mike and Heather came over last night for spaghetti / garlic bread / chocolate cake.  It was the first time I baked a cake since I moved in.  It wasn’t good cake, but it was better than nothing cake.  I am out of practice!

 

 

Bizaaaaarrre.

So instead of showing my transit pass when I got on the bus at the ungodly hour of 8:10 (am, on a Sunday morning? puhleeze) I had to pull out my mandolin and play it. I got through the first 3 verses of Buy Me A Beer before somebody else got on the bus.

Then, when I got to church, Tom got ‘that look’ in his eye and started playing “Buy me a Beer” so we ENDED UP SINGING IT in the ingathering at church, which still strikes me as being a “take your glasses off and clean them thoughtfully” moment. And I had banjo, twelve string, six string, piano, vocal AND stand up bass accompaniment. Long live the Masticating Ungulates! (The band formerly known as MU).

Very good to see Lady Miss Banjola on her pins agin. Afterwards, Dim Sum.

One of my friends, speaking to me on the phone the other night, said, “Well I know how you are from your blog, but how are you REALLY!?” You asked for it.

1. My back hurts all the time, but I don’t complain about it because it’s BORING.

2. I really wish I was having more sex with the people I want to be having sex with. Quality is not the issue. I don’t talk about that shit here – mostly because just reading this paragraph made my mother’s face screw up really hard. And Parental Strength Mental Bleach is v. difficult to find.

3. No matter how hard I try, I can’t forgive somebody I really shouldn’t be wasting any emotional time and space on. I will keep trying. It’s hard.

4. I wish someone would come along and kick my ass about my songs, as in getting them written down.

5. I need to eat more vegetables, and no, this does not loop back to item 2.

6. After years of being told I’m not a team player and that I’ve got problems with anger, I’ve learned that neither of those things are true. I’m actually a happy person; I rarely get angry about anything any more. Emotionally abusive relationships have subtle and lingering effects.

7. I know I have to lose weight for my health and longevity. It’s an ongoing irritant.

8. I haven’t had a cigarette in just over a week.

There’s more, but that hits the high notes.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to watch the “Happy Feet” part of King of Jazz again.

Grrrr

It seems like every time I come back with the CAN car I have to deal with a never ending parade of people who can’t read the sign (Dear Blithering Eejit, don’t stop, park, unload or stick any kind of vehicle here!)  So I sit in the car and curse until people move, and then move the car, or park it down below, since I have access to the visitor parking.  I bailed on church (mostly because I was too angry to sit through another minute, and unfortunately “If you can’t say something nice, keep cakehole in down and locked position” applies in  this case).  And I made biscotti for afters too… Grr.  But then I had all this time with the car and Paul called and we went through what appears to be the last draft of the separation agreement although I am NOT Alicia (that was a funny typo!).  I got to see Keith, briefly.  I learned what happened to my recipe book, copied or took what I needed, and had a good visit with Paul after we got the paperwork squared away.  I’ve been thinking a lot over the last week about “what went wrong” so a lot of our conversation consisted of him listening to me say what I thought I’d screwed up; because, you know, he’s a really great guy and he deserves as much as anyone else to be happy, and there was no way, considering how perma-cheesed I was for the last year, that he could have been happy living with me.  He was very kindly about the whole conversation and we got in a good walk and I finally have decent rice, I can’t believe how much I missed having proper Indian basmati, which I am to the point of thinking is the only rice.
Grr.  Grr.  Then my mood lifts abruptly when I find out that Katie K is going to take me to either Dosza Garden or Simba’s – two of my fave eating places….  So this afternoon I have one last crack at various projects before work commences, and then food, and then hopefully home early, to bed early, and with any luck my migraine will be gone.  It’s not a big one, but it’s dreadful not to be enjoying sunshine…. it’s really another glorious day.

CAN car meshuggas and Happy Family News

I booked the CAN car – the charcoal Prius parked at my door, don’t you know – from 10:30 to 1:30 so I could shop for the extremely large toilet paper package I like so much (okay, I bought other stuff too…) and also to have enough time to hit the office and call RobofNine and ScaryClown down to admire the vehicle.  As could be predicted (ScaryClown being about 12 in terms of psychological age – maybe 13) he said “People must have been ****ing back here, look at the stains” as he got into the back seat.  Thanks, kiddo.

Today I bought eggcups (leering eggcups frustrate my amnesia – R. Needham); a set of stacking coffee cups which I have coveted for about two months now; much food (I’m feeding Katie K tonight – and probably watching Red Shoes again…); a wall calendar, suction cups (none of which suction to the walls, Tammy, I think I’ll have to make holes now); and did I tell you I drove a Prius for the first time?  I nearly broke my neck trying to figure out how to take the parking brake off and when I went to show off to the guys I couldn’t get it started ’cause I didn’t put my foot on the brake, so RobofNine kindly pointed out my error.  Then when I got home some ****wit in a Honeywell service truck was parked in the CAN car spot so I had to park it in the visitor lot, but as soon as I unloaded my groceries, the spot vacated and I ran like the hammers down the stairs to shift the car, all of which went well and I didn’t have to parallel park, may the saints and angels be praised.

OOOOOOOO Squeeeee!!!! phone just rang – it was daughter Katie and she GOT THE JOB.  In three months benefits; in six months a raise – and the company discounts are great and she’s working 8:00 – 4:30 M-F.  I said, “Welcome to the working poor” and she said, “I don’t care, at least things are moving in the right direction. Big Ten Four to that.

Is nothing sacred????

Click here for a dreadful, nay, almost sacreligious book cover.

Ha ha, fooled you, it’s just another way for me to sneak a moose into my blog.

Last night Janet, Tammy’s mum, and Janet’s charming spouse Rob who is alas on strike at the moment and gets to picket at City Hall – ick – for $50 a week strike pay – double ick – fed me a beautiful, wholesome dinner. In their perfect back garden. I brought along a bottle of California organic chardonnay.

Yesterday was a day crammed with incident. I could have spent the afternoon with Tammy, but Katie requested assistance with financial stuff. When I got to New West I was less than charmed to find out she’d already locked her payout from the house into a GIC (I bought a GIC too, while I was there), but it turned out she needed to order cheques. So we did that, and then she turned into a wobbly 8 year old girl in front of my eyes, and, practically in tears, asked me if I could walk her over to her old work and help her collect her last cheque. THAT’S how terrified she was of her old boss, that she was almost nineteen and needed a wingman. So OF COURSE I went in with her, but there was no problem; her cheque was ready, she thanked her two former coworkers and her screechy and abusive (like Katie needs more abusive people in her life, deary me) boss wasn’t there, so all her premonitory butterflies were for naught.

Then we went to Lougheed Mall and checked addresses for previous jobs and got her application to Village de Valeur filled out and I went to Tammy’s mum’s place on the transit, and I composed a song, which, when I woke up this morning and lined it out again turns out be somebody else’s song, drat, so I will have to either chuck the whole thing or sit on the lyrics until something else comes to me.

The house is on Manitoba Street, one of the Manitoba Cottages, it has a plaque and everything. To say that it has been lovingly restored would be an understatement = Janet does not do things by halves. Every single detail about the house, now that it’s for sale (Rob and Janet hope to move to Tsawassen for the sun) is so gorgeous and perfect that my little apartment looks like a barren desert occupied by a paper junkie by comparison. Oh, and I met the wife of a local celebrity while I was there (arts and entertainment variety). This completed the “You Don’t Move in These Circles” feeling. Aside to Lexi – this is a feeling I don’t get when I hang around with you, but this might have something to do with your steadfast refusal to take yourself too seriously, except at exam time.

My contribution to the dinner consisted of moving stuff up and downstairs to the garden (Tammy was taking the stairs mighty slow and I wasn’t much faster as the stairs had been polished to the point of hazard) setting the table and peeling peaches (I detests me some peach fuzz) and trying not to throttle Janet when she was teasing Tammy, who needed very desperately NOT to be teased, given that she had an eye infection.  MY mom would be fussing over me in a nice way; Janet’s response to being told that Tammy was setting her alarm for 45 minutes before the departure time (Tammy flew out to Toronto this morning, sigh) was “What on earth do you need all that time for?” and then she launched into how little time it would take HER.  At which point my angel tripped my demon and piped up, “Well I’m not sure that’s a fair comparison, given the jet lag and the eye infection.”  If my demon had spiked my angel I would have  – well, enough about that.  I would have degenerated into name calling pretty fast, and I was a guest.  Tammy is normally more than capable of looking after herself, but I think she was grateful I said something.

To Janet’s credit, she had a blue glass eyecup (an astonishing thing!) which matched all of her decor, but allowed Tammy to use eyebright tea, which I had been bugging her about since I heard about the infection.  Paul – if you’re reading this – ’nuff said!  We picked the eyebright up at Finlandia, which I had been wanting to go to since I moved to town (they have a new store and it’s gorgeous).  It’s the Nordstrom’s of herbal pharmacies, especially if you’re used to the little holes in wall for Chinese herbal medicine stores. The eyebright provided immediate relief and the swelling went down visibly over the course of the evening.

Then Rob gave me a lift to the Main Station, and so home, except I stopped off to buy cut flowers to perk up my lonely bachelorette pad.

Katie K has returned to Vancouver and we had a rather one sided earflapping last night because she really needed to download about her week and a bit of visiting sick and elderly relatives, cleaning out houses of same, having her accommodation arrangements kicked out from under her with virtually no notice, etc. etc.  My week has been a picnic on Wreck Beach by comparison.

One last bit of family gossip – I dunno how long Maggie and daughter Katie were talking last night after Maggie gave her a ride home (she ended up at Paul’s for dinner, thank goodness, so she had a family day) but I told Katie to call me back if it was before midnight and she didn’t, and that was at 10 after 10…. so I suspect that YET another female family member (Tammy being extended family) was giving her an earful / moral support about her current situation.  Man, I’m so glad there’s other people willing to do the heavy lifting!

Off for coffee…

Sundry and various

I met a man with the largest collection of musicals in BC, possibly Canada.  To give you some idea of the scale of his collection, he moved sometime in the last few years and put the stuff that he could bear to part with on ebay and cleared enough money to buy a house in rural Saskatchewan.  I am going to email him today and ask him if he has a copy of Zou Zou, one of Josephine Baker’s movies.

Tammy had a wonderful time on Gabriola and has promised pix.  I’m going over to her mom’s today to see her before she leaves tomorrow morning.

I am very happy about signing up for the CAN car, and the illiterate SUV drivers who keep parking in that spot are going to think I’m a evil evil hag, because I’m going to start calling for towtrucks on people.  Seriously, why are the people who take that spot almost always SUV drivers?  Was that a rhetorical question?  Is this?
The young man downstairs from me gets one more gimme before I rat him out to the landlord. I have now addressed him personally twice; I will give him three times.  I don’t enjoy being woken up like that and his apologies are wearing thin.

After a decade of living in this town I finally poked my head into Sikora Music down on Hastings.  I picked up a couple of CD’s which will go in the Christmas present pile.  I tried to go into Long and McQuade but they weren’t welcoming enough.  I also emailed L&M a few days back and started my email with “Your website sucks a Greyhound bus station men’s room mop.”  And the webguy emailed me back to acknowledge that I was funny, but didn’t actually address my question.  I know it’s not an e-commerce site, but a list of what snares you carry when I search on “snare” would be useful!!  And why am I suddenly interested in snares?  Well, I’m thinking of some portable and classy percussion, and a snare head with brushes, which I had recently seen used to great effect, got me thinking.  My percussive friends are smiling and nodding.
Katie K is back from Maine and visiting rellies.  She said “The theme for this trip is cognitive dissonance.”  My father is nodding and saying to himself, “That’s just a fancy way of saying, “Can I go home now?””

Dinner with Keith, Kate and Tammy went wonderfully, and I completely kept out of the conversation Tammy had with Katie, since it was everything I’ve been telling her for aeons, except Tammy is both more forceful and more tactful, tact being something I should really work on, except nobody would recognize me.  Keith bitched me out for not inviting Paul, and I phoned Paul to try and get his side of the story (and also to alert him about a possible change of address for Katie), but he appeared unconcerned and hadn’t really expected to be invited.  A whole paragraph detailing why he should be happy he wasn’t invited has been deleted, thank god.
Re the change of address for Katie…. stay tuned.  She’s having her troubles, and now she’s working on graceful exit strategies.

Keith’s first two days of Dispensing Optician school appear to have gone well.  He loves the new campus, says “The air here is better than it was in high school” (not hard) and seems to be thriving on being so busy, although he’s kinda sharper and more brittle than I remember him.  He went on at length, as he tends to do, about writing projects he never actually does anything about (I keep saying, find a comic book artist, there’s less writing) and various media things, like TV Tropes which I forwarded him a link to yonks ago and which is still causing him fits of hysterical laughter.  Keith also recited a William Blake poem, which he recently memorized.  I will now pause while my mother recovers from her swoon of happiness.

I also bought a Moleskine.  I am a little fashionable sheep, but it sure is a pleasure to write on.

Now, since my apartment is tidy and all my clothes are clean, I guess I’ll have to actually do some work before I phone Tammy at nine….  The major projects are:

  • Getting all the pictures in albums and labelling them to the extent I can.
  • Entering my songs into Songwriter (now that after four berloody months I found my list again!!).
  • Purging as many of my books as I can.
  • Re-establishing a filing system.
  • Working on a budget.
  • Practicing on my guitar and mando.

But hark, what scent from yonder café breaks??  I think I’ll go downstairs to the Renaissance and fuel up.

More walking around and standing still.

Tammy and I walked to Horizons from my apartment this morning.  She’s in better shape than I am, as far as I can tell.  I became more acquainted with the trails around here as well as getting some exercise.  I didn’t exactly stick a gun in her ribs when we got there (ambling around rose gardens and taking pictures of roses was more my speed) but we hung about until the doors opened on the restaurant and I warmly encouraged her to feed me, which she did. Consider the meal rhapsodized about.  Then we walked home.  This time I chose, much to our satisfaction, a more level route.

She’s gone off to a family dinner and now I’m going to go back to an exciting evening of staring off into space, giggling vacantly, and folding laundry.  (Doesn’t that sound bizarre?  none of it’s true except the laundry.)

Communicative evening.

Briefest, Keith. I was watching a parkour video at the same time and didn’t tell him.

Next, me auld mither. Much earflapping commiserating plotting etc.

Next, the dear lass Peggy, returned with smiles from visiting NFLD. And and and – sailing! Tom in a sailboat for the first time in 40 years. Experiencing vicarious happiness!!! I’ll see them at church on Sunday with Tammy, if everything goes as skedded.

Then, Brother Jerome, to toast in words his anticipated and upcoming nuptials with the stunning and practical (ah, such a wonderful combination in a life partner) Shannon.

Briefly, Mike, “I have gift for you = and Tammy is coming so don’t be a stranger!”

Then Elly, who is going to Toronto to visit her boys next month! And fine, strapping lads they are, too, full of creative vim and energy.

Then, daughter Katie. I owe her money, how did that happen?

Now the smell of the chicken wings I cooked is getting quite assertive, so I’m gonna have sweet potato and chicken wings.

MMMMM.

Sweet Bachelor days.

Ah, yesss…

So, last night my boss, may he be praised and venerated, gave me a lift to Scott Road Station, which was the only thing which allowed me to arrive in Victoria at a decent time.  Then I immediately cracked open beer and watched 28 Days. I had heard a great deal about this movie from one of my beloved coworkers, a guy who only gets animated when he’s talking about what happened to him before he turned 18 and movies.  Anyway, I really liked the movie, except the parts where I had to put my head into my own armpit, and Cillian Murphy is one neotenous looking dude.  If you want a scary, unstoppable image stuck into your skullfat… picture him and Bjork having babies.  Zar.

There are so many brilliant moments in 28 Days that it’s hard to line them all out. I know I won’t buy it, but I will definitely watch it again.  Script, cinematography, casting, MUSIC, editing, all great. Plot holes like a screen door in a submarine (just like Patricia told me when it was first released), but o well.  You don’t want zombie movies to be too realistic, that’s part of their charm.  They are fairy tales for adults where, even though things turn out badly, you’re still alive at the end.

And so to bed, where I holed up with Sarah Dunant’s In The Company of the Courtesan that’s bopping around the best-seller lists lately. As a Dunnetteer, I have to read this stuff.  Well, it’s set in Venice in 1527 – 1528, during and after the sack of Rome by the combined German/Spanish forces. 

The Romans, like the feckless duckwits that they were at the time, all riddled with corruption and internal factions and lacking army, intelligent leadership and anything like planning, shot the leader of the incoming army dead in the first moments of the battle. You know how leaderless armies who haven’t been paid in weeks react when they have an undefended, unimaginably wealthy city in prospect, and when half the incoming army is motivated by intense hatred of the tenants’ religion – Papism….  Yeah, it was not pretty, and a lot of folks got put to the sword.  First thing that happens to Our Heroine – an intelligent and energetic young woman – is having her hair cut off with violence by the army’s Calvinist campfollowers.  Way to spend a Sunday.  The story is recounted by her dwarven servant and in the voice of the omniscient author, alternating.  (I’m sorry, it’s just that I don’t get to say dwarven servant in public very often).

Woke up and lay in bed and read some more until 9:30ish, when I stirred my stumps and by our unspoken agreement cooked a somewhat low key repast.  The coffee was amazing.  I had three cups.

Then we went through the PILE, and there’s always a bloody pile around here, of Films in Prospect.  I picked Ghost Dog out because it was a Jarmusch film – I find him consistently interesting and watchable – and settled in with the movie from the first frame.  Forest Whitaker was mesmerizing.  Once again, script, music, casting, all uniformly excellent, and I closely followed the excerpts from the Way of the Samurai, which I now wish to read.  This is a buy and hold, in my opinion.

Then to phone my mother and tell her, “I’m having TOO MUCH FUN.  See you whenever.”  You can do this when you are 48.    Then a shower, and a walk perhaps, and then a renewed attack on the dreaded pile of celluloid. 

There are explosions coming from the living room.  What is that man blowing up now?  (later)  No harm done, he’s just flying an ME 2somethingerother in the leaden skies over a European city.  And blowing pixels up.