Category: Friends

Peggy is threatening tourtiere

OH GOD will I survive?  She’s from northern Quebec, of course she knows how to make a tourtiere of note.

She is also threatening the last of the strawberry rhubarb pie. Jeff, reading this, is wiping off drool. I await delivery with high hopes.

Jeff and I were witnesses to some of Paul’s paperwork. I thank Lois and Ruth for stickhandling this, it never would have happened without them.

The ukulele reappeared. It was exactly where I left it, in the music room. If I had lost it I would be sad, but when Mike called I told him and he just laughed and laughed when I explained I lost something in my house and he said…. that’s my every day for months.

So…. heard from Mike. He nearly died yesterday, he went kayaking in Pitt Lake. The inflatable kayak burst and a rain storm came up and HE JUST BARELY MADE IT BACK TO SHORE, his arms were still shaking occasionally when he called me. He watched a satellite video just to ensure that he hadn’t been dreaming about how fast the storm blew up and nope, it happened like he said. Anyway, he sounded quite chipper, the way you always do when you avoid death by drowning by inches.

Buster’s leg wound from the surgery is healing nicely but he’s a long way from having the cone off. He completely freaked out when Lois and Paul came over yesterday for the document signing, it was rough for him. It’s possible he was confused over the car sound and couldn’t figure out who was coming and going with the Echo coming and going but me not being in it. Lois will return the car today and fly home, and she will be missed.

The battery on the laptop now discharges to 50 percent when left fully charged but unplugged overnight. I wish you could easily replace the batteries in these fuckers. I’ve pinged a repair shop for help; should be about 150 to 200 dollars.

New Poem It Is a Source of Constant Surprise

When I think of the way I used to think about you, it’s a rebuke 

to the mundane way I think of you now. 

In those days you were an apparition

fantastical goat god and that brief relief from diapers 

and the portable midden of culture that is this holy shit quotidian. 

Our ancestors, ringed ‘round us like eyes in firelight

are amazed at our carts and our flying machines

the little man in the phone

and the big man on the ceiling

who can put carriages in the firmament that carry messages here and there.

They in their silence convey stupefaction nor can they believe our dailyness

feeding our carts with an elixir of monsters from the centre of the earth

so they can go fast in careful rows 

They don’t suss the wonder of combustion while understanding very well

the long footrest makes it go. 

My contemporaries on this earth have worn through novelty 

come out on the side where all the natural dirt is;

all the glacial rocks flensed from the hide of our mother

ground down into grit are beautiful

mostly because they don’t have any fucking plastic in them. 

And yes, I am still thinking of you; you are an overhead projection in my life

I’ll look up and there’s a different quote, since you are that quotable

projected on the ceiling. The next time I look it will be different, as you will be.

Back then you were always the same, and that just isn’t true any more.

chimichanga and Mr. Ho’s

It was lovely to see Tom, Chari, Brian and Mike at Mr. Hos. None of us had a drop of alcohol.

It was also very lovely, earlier in the day, to see Ryker who is A BUSY LITTLE BOY WHO NEVER STOPS MOVING. And broke a corelle dish, in accordance with the prophecy.

Keith cooked me a chimichanga with cheese and Suzanne made me a cup of tea and told me she can’t do second Thursday’s any more because she got a better paying position for that day but she can do an evening or weekend or morning instead. So Jeff and I will have to talk about what’s most convenient.

On the way back I got Jeff a strawberry rhubarb five inch from Pie Hole and us some relaxants from The Bohemian. Took a cab to the restaurant like a sensible person.

Curvebeak was back this morning (Jeff noticed him the other day, he’s uh, hard not to notice with that incredible honker) and it’s just aggravating because I don’t have any sound and healthy crow food except…. hardcooked eggs, (wut?) so I peeled him an egg and put it out for him. Felt weird. Accidentally let Buster out but he has to stay in for his appointment at the vet today so we for sure can lay hands on him when it’s time to go. I coaxed him back in with many treats.

Just checked what I fed Curvebeak, every scrap of the egg is gone. Well, he got one fifth of his calories for the day I guess, they eat 12 oz a day.

 

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.)

i’ve been sitting in the sun

but not at Vantan, one thing, another, the whole Dinsdale stale trail of when plans go awry. I shall be crispy tonight. Jeff said I looked a trifle sunned. I heard stunned but you know how siblings are. (That did not, in fact, happen.)

However Mike came over and cooked supper outside on a campstove and it was nom nommity yes indeedy. Gai lan and beef&onions, over rice, mochi balls to finish. For whatever reason Buster who has in past been his devoted fan, wouldn’t go near him. He’s been fine but weird lately.

Knoweth how to party, Mike, in any event. Jeff had two whole beers. (I am drinking de-alcoholized, as is Mike. The cannabis was stylishly abundant I will leave it at that.)

He is now cleaning up, the Mobile 8th Wonder of the World.

We’ll reconvene over John Wick 4.

Not much happening

I think I’ll go spend a couple of hours helping Paul pack today.

Mike says we may go to Vantan, the private members naturist club up at Mt. Fromme, this weekend, weather depending.

Really looking forward to it. Place is completely off grid – even the hot tub is wood fired.

Membership requires 10 hours of work each year or a donation of cash or kind if you can’t work.

running

That would be my nose that’s running. Every scotch broom bush in the lower mainland is blooming and the pollen is piling up in minuscule yellow banks everywhere. I sneeze, I run, I blow, I sneeze.

Saw Mike yesterday. He took me to a U2 concert (checks notes, oops he already took me to a U2 concert) a U3 concert, plus the wonderful teachings afterwards. (There was a workshop, and I learned more about strumming in fifteen minutes than in my previous lifetime so that was fun.)

It would have been lovely except that Mike is now convinced that he was subjected to racial profiling while he attended (for being egregiously Chinese with long hair, apparently) and is asking me to think about whether or not this is true.

Since I’ve never been racially profiled that I know of, and do not feel the almost hourly social sting of racism, I would like to plead the following.

I am autistic. I was put in a room of gabbling white people, 4% of whom where wearing masks (NIOSH N95’s WERE GIVEN OUT) in which the noise level was as you can imagine from a very very very live room full of people trying to order cider and admire ukulele setups. Asking me to notice a racial aggression when I am just fucking sitting there trying to autistic mask when I want to flee to the bathroom and stay there until all the people stop gabbling is a legit request but awkward white ha ha, no.

If someone of colour believes they’ve been subjected to that it’s my job as a friend to fucking believe them and centre their experience, not mine. If he says it happened it did. Whether I was off in my own little world at the time…. I mean, I WAS off in my own little world.

Work for Mike right now is absolutely horrific in ways that need not concern this blog except for that. He and I did not enjoy the trek out to the concert venue and back – the traffic was gross given it was a holiday Monday – but we did enjoy the beautiful setting at Labarge Lake.

He got his ticket checked twice after getting ignored by the ticket taker. I watched it happen, and my interpretation was not as negative as his.

I’m going to leave it at that. My ability to ignore things is very high.

xxx

 

a Vancouver moment

Mike got us dinner (Jeff got a chicken donair, I got a lamb donair – Halifax style, never had the sweet sauce before.) Then just before we went to the uke jam he got me a gelato and we ate them watching the street scene at Robson and Hamilton of a warm evening; it included a complete  buggering of traffic by what proved to be a false fire alarm, so I got to watch how fire trucks back up when they’re blocking traffic. Three fire trucks were called, plus a supervisor. <—-a Vancouver moment

Mike was NOT the only person of colour at the ukulele jam last night. <—a Vancouver moment

And he did something he’s never done before.

An open mike. I know, right? He’s been the soundtrack for fifty campfires and other people’s vacations and music nights for decades now, at least for me, but he’d never gotten up and played in a public venue.

He played a uke version of Toto’s ‘Africa’. (Jeff’s heard it.)

I played too, “And then he done her wrong.” So this involves me BLOWING three verses. THROUGH A KAZOO while playing uke as ominously as I can.  At the end of each verse I whip the kazoo out of my mouth and sing, “And then he done her wrong.” The last verse I do double time, so that the musicologists in the audience can realize that the last verse is to be played on the way back from la cimetière, N’Awleens style.  You can check with Mike if you think I’m fibbing, but I got half of a standing ovation at the end of it. I watched people springing out of their seats with my mouth hanging open and bowed back to them.

I wore Tom’s hat, that was mine, and I gave it to him, and Peggy gave it back after he died; that probably did it. Not my protean fucking talent nawssir.

I had a guy tell me that I was an ‘inspired’ kazoo player. This just means that Jeff, who sadly did not know about my kazoo leanings until after he moved in with me, has been gazing dubiously at his bathroom wall (the music room / spare room is on the other side) for more than a decade as I attempt to blow my brains out on the kazoo in ever wilder attempts to control what the damned thing does (I’m especially fond of imitating electric guitar lines.) As far as I can tell I stayed on key. Please spare a thought to Jeff, who has suffered.

All lyrics and chords for the jams were on the screen and THEY HAD A BAND percussion and bass!! to accompany them. A broad range of music from the last century, including Beatles (the song suite from Sgt Pepper) to Dua Lipa (‘Levitating’) was covered. Most professional. I got overwhelmed about 45 minutes in and I could either sing or play, not both, and they were using chords that no Christian would intend, so that’s what I did, put the uke down, and I didn’t try anything on any song I wasn’t familiar with. Even songs with three easy chords were tricksy because of the strumming patterns. It was a brain challenge for me for SURE.

So that all happened. I am so proud of Mike getting up there and blowing everybody away! His anxiety is such that he can conjure up being booed off stage (there was no stage, it was a function room in an absolutely right downtown high school, across from the Fringe NY headquarters LOL the VPL) and I noticed that he shook almost all the way through but he was superlative. (Told him afterwards that he stood with bent knees as if he was expecting to get assaulted, which OF COURSE NO ONE DID) https://vanukes.ca/ is the site name, but be warned they are broke and it might stop happening. <— this too goddamnit is a Vancouver moment

wordle in 2 this morning

Bit of writing yesterday.

 

 

errands

Accompanied Paul for a meal and errands yesterday. It was a beautiful day again and I kept my temper for most of it, but learning that he had received a new bank card and just thrown out the last one without calling the number and getting it authorized meant that we now had another errand, meaning going to the bank and stooging around for half an hour while the world’s most patient bank clerk dealt with Paul not being able to enter the same pin number twice running and not being able to remember his own home phone number that he’s had since 1996 and laughing about it. Then we learned his credit cards were buggered up too, and the clerk squared what he could away. Two children from a five child family screamed and moaned right next to us the entire time this was going on, just to give you the true, “If it’s Thursday this must be the third level of hell” feel to the occasion. Anyway, I paid for the banker boxes he bought and he paid me back at the bank.

I got him lunch at Nando’s at Market Crossing and realized that Paul is having more and more and more trouble handling food and I should have gotten him something less knife and fork to eat. The meal took almost an hour and he had a beer too. I was shrugging it off so I asked him to sit in the car while I got more babby plant pots and some embroidery hoops while I poked my head into Michaels.

While we were picking up banker boxes, something funny happened. We miss Jim, of course we do, and in Paul’s case the missing him comes out in song; it was Jim who told us about Buddy Wasisname and the Other Fellers and gave us our first few cassette tapes, which we listened to constantly. One of them, a traditional song, is called Sarah, and has the following chorus:

Sarah, Sarah won’t you come out tonight,
Sarah, Sarah the moon is shining bright,
Put your hat and jacket on, tell your mother you won’t be long,
And I’ll be waiting for you round the corner

Except that when Paul sang it, it came out, “The moon is brining shite,” at which point I laughed helplessly for about a minute.

BRAINz working okay today, tiny amount of writing, but the real big cognitive news is that I got eight hours of sleep.

Plane crashes and setting the mixture lean

So there was a plane crash in Langley yesterday. I heard about it on the radio. Then I read on line that the airplane – a small private craft – CLIPPED A TRUCK on the highway before coming in for a crash. Ya know friends and neighbours that is most likely to mean that HE DIDN’T SET FUEL TO RICH MIXTURE so he had ZERO OOMPH when he needed it. Since this is exactly like the plane crash I was in I’m of course predicting that’s what happened. Everyone including the poor bastid in the truck got conveyed to the hospital and in true Canadian fashion, lived to complain about it all.

I picked Keith up in his own car from the Ferry Terminal at Tsawassen yesterday. It was a STINKING HOT DAY, much hotter in Burnaby than the records might indicate. I had to drive in traffic. People who drive from east Burnaby to the southern terminal know well that there are a couple of choke points. One is the bridge access southbound on 20th; queued there for 20 minutes or so, cursing most immoderately the entire fucking time. One is the ‘curve’ on highway 91A where the traffic ALWAYS slows down even though there are no on-ramps? Like- what the hell, people. There is no earthly reason for this to happen, so I unscrambled my brains and gave it some consideration and I guess it’s because trucks have to slow down because it isn’t banked properly or something and that has a standing wave effect on the rest of the traffic. And of course another is the run up to the Massey Tunnel, but that was barely a blip because they had the counterflow set in favour of the traffic direction I was on.

After all that, got there in plenty of time to greet him for the ride home, and he thank god did the rest of the driving because I was once again pretty crispy toast from driving with due care and attention in that relentless traffic and heat. I didn’t want to put the air con on because we had less than a quarter tank of gas and I wanted to make sure that I didn’t get stuck behind an accident with no gas.

All was well, Keith efficiently gave me back the stuff I’d left in his car after the trip, and discovered ANOTHER BAG OF BISCOTTI – I told you I made a lot of that – which is going over to Peggy today because she is awesome and could use a break. With coffee, and biscotti. I won’t stay, I’ll just biscotti fairy it over to her when Jeff and I go to errandry later this morning.

Right now, I must dress, brush teeth and watch Endeavour, and then we’re going out. The downstairs toilet needs a part, and I want to get the Marvin the Martian watch I got from John’s stash running again. Curiously, I found the identical watch (right down to the watchband, which is an unusual leather and colour) for sale, secondhand since it was made in 94, in Europa for 339´€ and in the US for $39, so someone’s getting hosed and it’s not me.

Embarrassing as it is to relate, it is entirely possible that I will purchase another cell phone. Spending time with a dementia sufferer and being out of touch while I’m driving him around (he often forgets his phone) has made me understand the value of access. As I was driving to the ferry I kept thinking if I’m in an accident I’ll have no way to contact Keith and it made me unduly fretful.

list is getting ticked

Happy St. Sitha (Zita) Day, patron saint of domestic work, domestic workers, and lost keys. Here she is from a church wall in Norfolk UK.

Feast day April 27, St. Sitha patron of domestic work, workers and lost keys, winks at us from a church wall in Norfolk UK

Laundry is done and I’ll go back to folding it when I’ve finished posting. No Lumosity yet, wordle in three (the word made me laugh out loud because it is NOT a word I personally am associated with, like, at all). Five kudos from one person on AO3 last night… I mean woman did you SLEEP that was like 50K words LOL…. Almonds are in the oven for toasting and the timer is set to explode (finally have a LOUD kitchen timer) in an hour. I have started selecting my clothes to be packed. I’ve been practicing my instruments every day, I keep starting on and then refusing to write down any of the gags for a standup routine (part of it involving a ‘tactical ukulele’ which describes the second uke Mike bought me), I wrote 899 words yesterday on the fic and about 40 on TB. Dejunking has slowed but not stopped. Played Original Green Tetris on the Tetris website yesterday and I have to say I prefer newer versions LOL. I’ve booked my next flu/covid shots with the pharmacy.

I send a special family hug to Leo and Linda this am (they are always sharing pictures of their family in the background with me and it helps me stay connected to their fam and I really appreciate it) and a big long rocking hug for Dave, who is mourning his kitty and will be for a while. He still has Pippin, but Mookie was a real character.

Here’s a list of free websites that are apparently useful from boing boing dot com this morning. I’ve only had a good look at witeboard and untools but intend to explore more:

  1. Witeboard: https://witeboard.com 6
  2. Blush: https://blush.design 5
  3. Carrd: https://carrd.co 7
  4. What runs: https://www.whatruns.com 7
  5. Coverr: https://coverr.co 5
  6. Flourish: https://flourish.studio 7
  7. Untools: https://untools.co 10
  8. Lumen5: https://lumen5.com 10

Just in case anyone is thinking of me, please don’t get me anything for Mother’s Day that doesn’t involve tasty food I didn’t cook.

Still very much enjoying Medium and we’ve started The Diplomat and are LOVING it. But it’s (ratchet ratchet ratchet sound in the background) berloddy tense.

apology accepted

Jeez I could have gotten this over days ago. C. has been kind enough to hear and accept my apology and did not consider my considerable display of ill temper enough to make her hate me…

Don’t know what I did to deserve this life.

Shipped off 1450 words to mOm this morning after an 850 word day, thank you very much.

The brilliant sunshine is so wonderful. I just popped the back door to let the late afternoon sun and air flush the house.

Paul took me to lunch after we took EIGHT BAGS of mostly clothes (I did a quick peruse to ensure it’s stuff he can lose) to Value Village. Next time per his specific request they’ll go to the Sally Ann at the bottom of the hill. I can’t talk him out of it, that’s fine, he’s entitled to his preferences.

busy day yesterday

I did my normal morning stuff and then communicated a bunch with Katie. I got a couple of rental applications queried and took what I’d printed out over to her to fill it out (I checked her work) and provided all the stamps and envelopes and put it in the mailbox for her. It was lovely to interact with her because she was un-surrounded by children and could complete a thought. It was sad to interact with her because she once again has to pack up her entire life and move on and can look forward to a lot of domestic strife in the meantime. Anyway I was helping her look for coops inside a three km radius, so that kept me busy part of the day.

Continue reading busy day yesterday