Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!
Mike rented the basement of the Hastings Sauna and I got very warm last night. Also in attendance were Jarmo and Susanna, Cassidy and Paul.
I was really careful not to get overheated and I did sleep reasonably well until I woke up half an hour ago.
Thus concludes Mike’s birthday weekend. Hope to write lots today, only managed 200 words yesterday.
Paul and I were very moved by the service for David Hamilton, who in death seems even more quietly mythic than he was in life. A genuine, humble, intelligent, thoughtful, listening kind of man, with music in his very soul, the eulogies were funny and moving and real and the comments by his daughters-in-law particularly stood out as coming from two very different women, but uttering the same grateful praise.
We spent a lot of time catching up (I refused to look at my watch.)
So we were late to the restaurant, but it all came out okay.
Then back here. We played Cards Against Humanity and had so much fun. I haven’t heard Jeff laugh that hard in company since high school. Both of us laughed until we were leaking, and at the point when we thought our ribs couldn’t take it any more we’d start laughing again. Keith played games master. Also in attendance Cassidy, Mike (birthday lad), Joe and his gf, whom I’ve probably been introduced to four times but whose name I cannot remember, Brian and Chari, Paul of course. Paul had the advantage, with Keith, Mike and Cassidy, of having played it before, and he came up with some combos that were hilariously unprintable. I won a round with the best and simplest two card combo.
“For my next trick I will try to pull HOPE out of MY SEX LIFE.” Keith was the judge that round, ya shoulda seen his face.
I also won a round with “Dick Fingers”. Since there was also “Five Dollar Foot Longs” coming up as a card in that round the group immediately came up with a band name of Dick Fingers and his Five Dollar Foot Longs.
Yes, we had fun.
Jeff wore his Stargate “No Place Like Home” hoodie, squee.
I don’t even know who won and I don’t care. It wasn’t the point.
Keith noted that you aren’t supposed to play it with family members but we managed all that quite nicely. It’s an extremely rude game, and you may learn, as Jeff remarked, things you really didn’t want to.
Thank you to Jeff for getting the pinballs going – Joe and gf, who is apparently a pinball enthusiast from way back, went downstairs and made pinging noises for at least an hour and then dropped into the middle of the CaH game.
Around 9:30 I realized I could no longer stay upright so I went to bed. Also, darkness equals bugs.
Thank you to all the beautiful people, friends and Beaconites, who made it such a perfect, and perfectly exhausting day. Now I can’t sleep.
Instant mini housefilk at Cindy’s place; me and Paul and Cindy and Miss K for appreciative audience. SUCH A GOOD TIME. Also we gave blood then we ate Indian food and went to the Bloedel Conservatory and I got into a discussion with a parrot and then nearly passed out from being down a pint and Paul sat with me for the 20 minutes it took for me to recover… all this happened before the housefilk. Feeling fine now but tired obvs, it was quite a day. Funny story… go to give blood at the Oak St Clinic, gal at reception asks “are you Mary?” which I hear as Are You Married, and I say no we’re divorced. So now on top of everything else I need to get my hearing checked.
I did have a rough couple of days. Feeding Ayesha was the only reason I got dressed and left the house a couple of times. But my friends as usual helped me feel better. I was reading Jenny Diski’s latest review about insanity and being committed, and reading about the continuing horror and debility of the mental unwellness of an acquaintance on fb, and I just had to stop and thank a few people.
Sandy for telling me to go back to taking vitamin d, which was the smartest of many smart things she’s told me in the last year; Paul for taking me for a WONDERFUL walk in Queen’s Park (we haven’t walked there in 15 years, I’d guess) where we saw a gazebo, and pigs in the petting zoo, and kids having fun but NOT SHRIEKING, and gingko trees, and roses, and a completely deserted outdoor exercise space for adults; Jeff for indulging me when I said, “Gee whiz after watching the last ten minutes of True Detective (wherein there was an incredible gun battle) I want to rewatch 44 Minutes: The North Hollywood Shootout!” and he said sure, so we did, and I have to say it’s held up very, very well; Sue for always being a positive and loving force in my life; Tammy for listening; mOm and pOp of course for so much practical and uncomplicated support now and earlier; both kids for various kinds of help; John, who seems to pop up everywhere in my mind these days and I don’t know why this picture of a dog reminds me of him; Margot for being so relaxed about not being normal; Bounce for being one of my happiest memories.
After the wonderful walk yesterday (all those beautiful tall trees!) Paul took me to the Taqueria Playa Tropical, which is such a good restaurant it doesn’t serve desert (of course not, and as I re-read this I note they don’t serve dessert EITHER.) I ordered a beer and Paul had a Margarita, can you credit it? And the server swapped the drinks because GENDER ROLES, which occasioned harmless mirth. I had the Tosta Carnita, and for seven bucks I got the tastiest sandwich I have ever, ever eaten. GOD IT WAS GOOD I AM STILL IN THAT HAPPY PLACE. Paul had the enchiladas and the way they were plated I wanted to take a picture, but I am damned glad I didn’t because that shit’s rude. And I left my phone in the car.
Happy to have friends. All I meant to say. Because they are the people standing between me and the bughouse.
400 words yesterday. Babies tumbling down stairs and being weird.
I am working on more songs and more writing, but all the songs have not had lyrics of late. I am practicing!
I am not always smart about my physical limitations, and I worked on Mike last night past my ability. So I have a very sore right shoulder which I am being gingerly with, and also recognizing I’m coming up on two years for breaking my right shoulder in the first place…. and I’ll be throwing somatic fart bombs at myself to remind that on this day a bad thing happened, cause that’s how humans who understand a calendar roll. Stuff that’s on the surface gets stuffed under, like the motion of Kelvin-Helmholtz waves in that first mutual encounter with shear.
I want you to read it here first. If I’m wrong, I’m wrong with a big smile on my face. But I’m tellin’ you, the features on Pluto are not physical. They are clouds. The atmosphere is so cold that weather systems can form hexagons, and they are nose to tailing across the atmosphere like a dragon. I bet you also that the hexagons play crack the whip, and sometimes one of the hexagons will break off the end and die. The different colours of the surface are from the large scale weather systems picking up tholins off the ground where they’ve been deposited and mixing them with other compounds that change the albedo of the top of the atmosphere. It just LOOKS like physical features. Closer to the ground, pretty much everything is reddish orange. There are also scars from collisions and impacts but I think the picture we’re getting from Pluto is weather, almost all of it.
I’m taking myself off line for writing for the rest of the day. I’m in a very strange mental state and I just want to sit and try to process.
Last night Mike played Poems Prayers and Promises for me, by John Denver (I thought that it was a Denver tune before he told me, so I’m glad my ability to see another artist is not completely verkockt) and it was amazing.
Then he practiced the guitar portions of a bunch of classic Simon and Garfunkel, and that’s what I fell asleep to. Sometimes the simplest magic is the most powerful.
I’m feeding Ayesha, so I need to figure out when I’m heading over there this afternoon. I am SO HAPPY it started to rain. We all need it, physically, environmentally, emotionally.
325 today so far, about 300 yesterday. I am slowing down again and I hate it.
Perhaps the prospect of a meal out will assist. Mike will cruise by around supper time. Sounds like he’s had a gharstly week.
Spoke to Chipper today – and she was. Things are looking up, and that is wonderful.
Sent along some pics from Paul to mOm, who is grateful to have a recent picture of Phyllis and Alex.
brO has been very very helpful today with computer stuff and I’m grateful and pleased.
Practiced this morning for almost an hour. Tried to write a song but noodled instead.
I need to make up the deficit from yesterday, but at least that’s only 339 words. I used the trick of going downstairs and working on the 60 inch screen. There’s something about seeing my words on the tv screen that I find very amusing and heartening.
Mike took me and Keith to the Union Jack yesterday (I always eat the same thing, and it involves Yorkshire Pudding).
Keith demonstrated great strength of character yesterday. And he left his hat here again. He walked home from the pub. (It is delightfully close; I can contemplate walking there without horror.)
Then Mike came back here and I assembled the massage table and beat him up for a while. Then, declaring that I wasn’t happy with the outcome, I beat him up again. (He was trashed from a yoga retreat with a hike in the middle, and his hamstrings were a nightmare).
There is so much smoke in the air that it’s horrifying. Yesterday the air quality was so bad I turned off the airconditioner.
So 661 words AND another song. It’s a call and response, as any fool can plainly see. (The correct response is: I can plainly see it.)
Gabriola Camping Trip – in meter it’s like a Marine Corps running song
I’m not nearly high enough
Chorus
Who say, who say
We’re not nearly high enough
and so say all of us
I’m not nearly drunk enough
Who say, who say
We’re not nearly drunk enough
and so say all of us
Think I’ll take a naked swim
Who say, who say
Can’t get out if you don’t jump in
and so say all of us
Think I’ll piss in the ocean now
Who say, who say
Someone better show you how
on account of
you are drunk
and so say all of us
Wind came up and the tents blew down
Who say, who say
We’re not sleeping anyhow
and so say all of us
Monday morning comes too quick
Who say, who say
Half of us are puking sick
and so say all of us
I went to IKEA yesterday with Mike; we met up there with Jarmo and Susanna and Ville. His hair is as satisfyingly rotund as I remember it – like a scale model light brown version of Phineas – and that is more than enough for me to say on the subject.
Then Mike purchased blackout curtains and I purchased what seemed like a good deal in plastic containers, plus another IKEA bag to take it home in. Hey, they come in handy for laundry.
We sat on the deck and looked at the conjunction of Venus and Jupiter and drank beer and he went home.
Today Paul came over around 1:30 and we walked in the shady part of Oakalla. Everything is dry and still and creepy – leaves crashing off the trees. The only critters were a tiny flash of a great blue heron, a cute little butterfly, a couple of towhees, and a russet thrush up in the trees trilling.
He accompanied me on a shopping trip so I loaded up on veggies. Now I’m waiting to hear from Keith to see if he’s saved us a seat at the pub at the Quay in New West where we can watch the fireworks. I know from twitter that the fireworks barge is already there.
If he can’t reserve us a seat, and who knows what will happen, I’m thinking I borrow that stool of Jeff’s and grab a blanket and then I can sit wheresoever I please.
Wrote yesterday but can’t remember the count, 497 words so far today. It was so pleasant to watch the word count tip over 50,000. Only 40,000 to go. Writing today has been infill and closing chapters for further addition. Sometimes I feel very penny dreadful in the way I have to always be throwing something new and potentially scary at the reader, and then very nursery-sloppy about how I try to soothe the reader after the scare. I’ve tried hard to give my lead character’s language a jarring, neo-Victorian feel. And that’s way more than I should talk about because that all sounds like I’m taking it seriously. I do, but it’s supposed to be fun and I’m trying to write it that way. I think I have vast reservoirs of fun in me, but difficult of access at times.
I feel very blessed to be among my friends and family.
I should probably go chop vegetables and what not.
May you all have a good Canada Day, and I salute the First Nations of this land, without whose continued stewardship, under such duress, we could not be as we are.
Mike brought the UV shelter, without which I would have fried to a crisp. I had a presentiment not to take Otto, so I didn’t.
It was a lovely day, trickily overcast, but lovely.
After the rather exhausting trip up the stairs Mike turned the aircon on in the car and what a relief that was. It was even hotter on the beach day before yesterday; I can’t imagine Katie hauling Alex in the frame backpack up those stairs, cazart, but she did. I haven’t even got out of bed yet so I don’t know how bad it is… my back, strangely, doesn’t hurt. Anyway I didn’t skip leg day yesterday.
Also 300 words before I left.
Rozo has a gorgeous apartment across the street from Pacific Spirit Park.
David H at church passed away on Thursday and the announcement came yesterday afternoon while I was on the beach. He was an intelligent, kind, highly musical, funny-dry-droll, heart centered man, and my heart aches for his lovely family. Normally you don’t die of prostate cancer, and it’s just so damned sad. He had a gift for congregational accompaniment that I likely won’t hear in this life again.
Here’s another take on the Flag of the Army of Northern Virginia.
Three hundred words yesterday. I really kinda did take the weekend off.
Yesterday I went to Mike’s AGAIN for lunch and he fed me andouille sausage with red pepper and asiago and the salads we had yesterday. Then we exchanged body work (for me my back, for him some muscles I can’t pronounce because his martial arts training as a 20something included snap kicks which literally pulled the femoral head out of its normal spot and he’s got pretty much permanent pain 20 years on, plus he had a family meal Saturday and it was a cascade of underslept monkey vs. weasel family meshuggas). Then we napped. Like adults do when they are two beers drunk, well fed and laying about in the sun. Mike hadn’t slept for an atrocious length of time and he was much refreshed. Then I got up and rode my bike home (it was around 7 pm) and it was deliciously cool since it was mostly downhill, and then I asked Jeff if he wanted to go to Sunset Beach with us (he was too sleepy) and I grabbed Otto and Mike grabbed his parlour guitar and we traded instrumental and lyrical songs and addressed the bay while the sun went down, and the light made rippling rows of Loch Nessie clones roll up and down the bay. We toasted each other in beer in plastic cups. I thought of John, and how proud of me he would have been for all the song writing I’ve been doing, and how he would have laughed his ass off at the books I’m writing, and mocked me roundly for my many errors and just how jeezly much I miss him. I will never hear him wheedle me again “Dear sweet, kindly, agreeable sister in common law…” when he wanted a haircut or some assistance wrangling his succession of massive and inconvenient cats. Then mosquitoes the size of hummingbirds silently arose from the ground and swarmed me and we fled to the exceedingly conveniently parked car, because Mike’s parking-fu is of a calibre to excite the comparison “Magical”.
For a while our only audience was a Canada goose, who booked it when a dog named Jack got too close to him, and a pair of mallards, who sat right at our feet. I knew they were hoping for schnacks but still it made me feel good, as did watching a pair of herons fly over 4th Avenue. Then other people sat down without crowding us so we had company. This is the weird bunch of signs from behind where we were sitting.
Going there we went through Richmond, and we didn’t hit a light until we were were on Granville. Going back we went through town and we counted the number of pot dispensaries on either side of Kingsway after Main before Boundary and there were four on his side and three on my side and one hydroponics shop.
Then he took me to Phó Boi and I had a small number 3 and ate ALL of it. An insanely attractive interracial couple was having their first date at the table next to us and Mike and I tried to drown their inanities out with soup slurping, but there’s only so much you can do with the audio when the man next to you is mansplaining how he doesn’t know how to order phó.
Mike was shaking his head as we left. “Phó for a first date is a terrible idea.”
In the morning yesterday I was in church, Sue came and got me, and John H. was there, first time he’s come since Anita died, and we many of us wept to hear him mourn her, and Debra, who has her earned her bread with us with great skill, asked us to be silent for a while after he spoke. We gave a cheque for $2700 to a local charity which helps homeless people and I took what were probably not very good pictures of the handoff. We mourned the deaths in Charleston, and thanked all our volunteers, and broke for the summer recess.
It was a good day. Today I have no plans but to write.
Mike fed me lunch and then we lazed on his balcony until he had to go off to his parents for supper. It was salmon with fresh dill and garlic, store bought tater salad and a salad of my own concoction, being tomatoes, cucumber, cilantro, feta, green onions and tiny amounts of lemon juice and olive oil. REALLY GOOD. I had seconds and thirds of salmon, and spent the afternoon in a state of pleasant repletion, to quote James H. Schmitz.
Today is the last day of church before the summer break. I won’t be going to the father’s day picnic afterward. I may go to Wreck – it’s supposed to be another awesome day and I think my symphisis problem has died down to the point I can at least think about it. Wreck on Solstice / National Aboriginal / Father’s Day is purty awesome.
Forty (ha) words yesterday. I got a break from the screen, and that was good.
I finally got the urge to finish the edits and I will be printing and mailing the second half of the manuscript for UPSUN to Diane this week.
Katie and Alex are back in town, safe home after an exhausting but excellent trip. I am supposed to see them tomorrow and get hairs cut.
I helped my friend Sue with voice work auditions yesterday. To be of loving service to a friend seeking her creative expression is one of the highest privileges of friendship, also it’s Sue so it was fun. She definitely brings the fun….
Day drinking yesterday! It improved my mood treeeemendously, thank you Jeff, and god, did I ever walk a lot yesterday – at least 4 k. (Once to buy cream, once to mail a letter to those fuckwits at the literary agency, once to the pub, and now BLISTERS.) My groinal issue is no worse today than it was before I walked so maybe the exercises are really helping.
When Paul showed up wanting to walk again supperish I said I’d prefer to keep drinking and so he made me his version of a Michelada and it was very very tasty, and then I gave him the last of the spaghetti with meat sauce I made last week and Keith TEXTED me last night to tell me it was yummy, and that’s great because it was a big batch and I was tired of it and afraid it would go bad.
I played Otto on the back deck in the fading daylight.
Then Paul asked me to play this song on my laptop. About halfway through the song I was weeping (I was listening to the music and never watched the video because there was too much light on on the screen), and I turned to him and said, are you crying, and he said yes. And we sat there and cried, because even though the words are not about my feelings, I felt the song as a great elegy to all the beautiful things that have died out of my life and the creativity humans bring to keeping the beautiful memories of people and events and the big grand sweep of life where they can see them. I’m not expecting anybody else to react as we did, but every once in a while Paul and I completely sync up on something, and neither of us can predict or prevent it. I honour what is and I’m glad it is.
Colin’s dad died yesterday. I light a candle for his journey. Colin is already in Abbotsford and Catherine will be flying out but I imagine she will be too busy and grieving to stop by.
Be kind, my darlings. Life is frequently short and infrequently sweet.
So, not a word yesterday. I won’t repine, I’ll try again today.
Went for a walk at 5 am (wut no cream for coffee??? this is an outrage…)
Feel like doing the Michigan Rag? I thought you might.
More jazz from a rather unexpected direction. Thank you Lemming!
Waiting for my peeps to come home (sad face) – no word on when Mike and Paul and Katie and Alex are coming home yet, or maybe they’re home and haven’t called me, which will make me more than sad face.
Pentium, Tammy’s remaining kitty, was euthanized yesterday. I am so glad Mike was in Toronto. I’ve supported him through a pet death so this seems like karma sneaking in.
Got to talk to Paul and Phyllis on the phone yesterday. They and Katie and Alex were taking the sights in Port Stanley, always a family favourite with the folks. Phyllis (to be candid) sounded exhausted so I hope he’s not chivying her too hard. Phyllis seems smitten with Alex, although how things could go differently is hard to figure.
Keith came by yesterday. Being on the spectrum – both of us – makes our communication extremely intense, haphazard and painful at times, but this turned out well so I’m going to characterize it as a win. He’s enjoying the mix of work that he has right now, including supplying eyeglasses through his company to X-Files.
Buster’s back/butt wound should get veterinary attention in my view, but I don’t own him. All I know is that had Margot received such a wound I’d have her into the exam room in 12 hours; portions of the wound are now 72 hours old and not crusting over so I am quite concerned about an abscess. Fortunately Margot is only subject to persistent eye goobers, thanks to her allergies, and I’m trying to stay on top of those by removing them every time her eyes get droopy. She does not thank me, but she usually quits running and lets me pick her up when I’m persistent.
It’s been deliciously sunny and breezy and not too hot.
412 words yesterday, mostly on Pharos.
Mike is planning on renting an entire commercial sauna for his birthday. Man o Man, that’s gonna be some party.
There’s this woman in Spokane who is white and has been pretending to be black since she was in University. This is what I have to say about her:
Libertarians are calling Rachel D. the ultimate manifestation of white guilt. I’m calling her as a gender-flopped urban Grey Owl. Her romanticization of black culture without living through a black childhood isn’t guilt, it’s a minor mental disorder.
Further: SHE EMBODIES WHAT MY TAG RACEFAIL IS FOR.
HERE IS NATHAN FILLION HOLDING A BRACE OF OTTERS.
Paul came by yesterday to take me for a walk down by the Quay. I shared with him some ground chicken meatballs in pasta sauce and we had a beer (Hop Circle IPA by Phillips) apiece because it was so deliciously cool on the deck once the sun went down.
On Wednesday Katie and Paul are planning on going to London to see Phyllis, and I’m really happy about that although poor Katie – Alex is the perfect baby inside his routine but he doesn’t do change well and he’s likely to roar. I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when he gets back.
Mike’s going to fly to Toronto and visit Tammy soon (so happy!!) It’s always good when your friends get along.
Watched Run All Night. It is a fairly pedestrian thriller, but I’m a Joel Kinnaman fan and he was good in this movie. There’s a scene where he’s been kidnapped by dirty cops and his da, as played by Liam Neeson, CRASHES INTO THE COP CAR while his kid’s in it, and then levers him out of a busted window, asking, “Are you all right?” and the kid says, which stunned asperity, “No I am *not* all right!” which made Jeff and I laugh.
I think I may take a day off writing and work on edits instead.
And now, coffee. I put it on a couple of minutes ago and now it should be ready.
