Category: Friends

Church at the beach

Well, I took those 478 steps yesterday to Wreck.  When Mike and I got there, there was an immense fog blowing across Marine Dr.  For maybe thirty seconds we debated going down to the beach, as it appeared a breezy and clammy time was to be had, but by three o’clock the fog had moved across the inlet where it formed an amorphous but solid appearing wall, 15 stories high.

There were alcohol and food vendors there and no cops.  I got a little singed but the sun wasn’t very fierce. Mike brought his Taylor and I brought Otto, and we sang and played, Dylan and other gods and goddesses.  There was a very light breeze and all in all it was very very pleasant.

We took it easy going up the stairs.  I concentrated on breathing and body mechanics to ensure that I didn’t strain anything.  I got home and because I am no fool I showered and changed before bed; that beach at the end of the season is like a very scratchy petri dish.

Damn, it was nice. I tripped on rhodopsin for a while, experiencing that wonderful progression of colours and geometry that happens when you stare at the sun with your eyes closed for at least ten minutes and then cover your eyes.  First, your visual field goes an inky, depthless black.  Then purple, a colour so strong and overwhelming that you gasp as it comes on, fills from the centre to the periphery. Then the centre turns a malignant orangey copper, and from that springs a deep magenta, so it looks like a pop art eye. Expanding out from the magenta is that same inky depthless darkness, now almost deep blue, with teal semi circles radiating out from that centre.  Very gradually, everything turns a pale silvery green; then brittle diamond shaped lozenges of fiery orange, yellow and red, march up and down your visual field like the very finest mushroom high. Unlike every other time I’ve done this, the colour progression repeated thrice before the last of the visual effects died off (obviously nowhere near as strong, but it was interesting to look at even as attentuated as it was). As always, I feel as strong as Jack the Bear after I do that, and I am much refreshed both mentally and physically.

A week or so ago I listened via NPR to the new Leonard Cohen album, so his voice was still in my head when I was in the shower last night.  Michel, one of the characters in the novel, still didn’t have a song, so I was thinking… Michel lived in Montréal for years, maybe a song in the style of Leonard Cohen?  Michel is staying in town simply and solely to get his mitts on Kima, so I thought ….  (and this is not a song a Sixer would ever write.  They do not infantilize lovers; they don’t smile, they don’t wear hats.  So this is what happens when pop culture gets through with Michel.  In real life, he’d say nothing, sing nothing, present her with nothing except himself.)

 

I just might stick around, baby

I just might stick around

Normally after a week I see

Nothing new in town

A light is glowing in your eyes

My very breath is bound

I just might stick around, baby

Maybe I’ll stick around

If you didn’t know you were special, baby

If you didn’t know you’re great

I’d hop a freight, jump aboard a freighter

Tip my hat, say see ya later

But no one else has quite your style

Not your figure, nor your smile

Yes there’s something new in town

I just might stick around

Moving

Once there was a man who when his girlfriend was moving out had to wait another week because the elevator broke.

Then the truck broke down.

SRSLY.  WTF.   For a while there we thought maybe this move wouldn’t happen, but after about 6 hours the truck magically appeared.

Anyway, Mike and I had already run away to the Paddlewheeler Pub during Fraser Fest and people watched and ate snax and drank beer.  We went back to his place and met up with the ex and it was reasonably civilized (I left the room).

I have absolutely no tolerance for fun anymore, I came home and collapsed. Now it’s three in the morning and I’m awake.  Heavy sigh.

Don’t expect much out of me in the next little while.  I’m axtually gonna read Piketty’s Capital in the 21st C because apparently you’re nobody until you do. It’s a doorstop.

Lighter hearts

Listen children and let me tell you a story.

 

Once upon a time there was a man who loved a woman but didn’t want to live with her.  She was okay with that.  She had to move and at the last minute the landlord said no and at the last minute she had to make arrangements to move in with the man who didn’t want to live with her.  They lived together for years.  Their love ended.  Their living arrangement did not.  Six months went by.  The woman made arrangements to move into a shelter because she figured out that accusing a man of being abusive would move her up an intake list.  She called movers.  The day was set.

The elevator broke.

The man looked out across his life and wondered why despite all his rationality he believed that this event wasn’t random. Couldn’t be random.

 

 

Mike, Keith, Kate, Jeff and I got together yesterday.  Keith put too much pressure on one part of the hammock and it split.  We congratulated him on taking one for the team, because if it had broken when Katie was it in we all would have been very sadface, although an eight months’ pregnant woman would not get in a hammock.  Keith was uninjured.  Mike demonstrated yoga.  Keith rode off in search of beer.  I massaged Katie’s feet.  We mostly stayed on the back deck, as brilliant afternoon turned into brilliant evening.  Keith rode home after dusk; Mike drove home; I put Katie in a cab.  We ordered pizza and talked and were together and laughed.

So blessed.  I told Mike that we’re part of his tribe.

 

Chris O’Shea, filker, is responsible for this charming instafilk.

 

“I woke up ever so slightly later this morning …
… And I was feeling ever so slightly more blue.
Yes I woke up ever so slightly later this morning…
… and I was feeling ever so slightly more blue.
Hard to tell the difference from yesterday.
I’m sufferin’ from the Delta Blues.”

Milestones and mealtimes

Katie cooked dinner for me, Jeff, Keith and the Birthday Boy Hisself, Paul; it was roast beast, gravy, yorkshire pudding, asparagus, carrots and smashed potatoes.

It was very pleasant.  Poor Paul was late for his own dinner by the best part of an hour.  Planes don’t wait.

We were sitting in the dark in the back yard when a skunk wandered through (this years’).  Ayesha maintained a goodly distance.  She was all over Jeff, it was very cute.

Paul has NO PLANS to retire!  He really doesn’t look his age.

Drew, Tre’s baby brother, has been born, congrats and all well.

 

Oh well some other time maybe

Yesterday it was church, during which I ran around like a fool after a toddler, and then Mike came over in the afternoon and we had a long talk about what’s going on with him, and then I went to Theology Pub.  It was rotating discussion groups.  I enjoyed myself but I don’t think I’ll be going back.  I can’t explain why and keep my UU principles intact, so I’ll just backspace over about three hundred words worth of high pressure whining and put a good spin on it. The turnout was spectacular though, at least twenty people came and the gender balance was much better than normal. There were more people from South Fraser Fellowship.

Tonight Katie is cooking dinner for her dad’s birthday. Paul turns 65 today.  He’s going to work until the last possible moment; he’s not retiring, or so he says, for at least another couple of years.

 

Church and PUB NIGHT

Man, I hope I remember a can for the food bank. I always seem to forget them. The most exciting thing today is that there is going to be a Theology pub night!!  It’s actually someplace easy to get to and from on transit, so that’s what I will do.  From the facebook page:

 

SOMETHING NEW

WHAT: Theology Pub Nights at Central City Brewing Pub and Restaurant, 13450 102 Avenue Surrey, close to the Central City Sky Train Station (see map below).

WHEN: Second Sunday of the month at 7pm, starting September 14th
Sept 14 topic: Where is God in our lives? Anywhere, everywhere, none of the above?

 

An old buddy

So someone from CDS days (we’re talking 2 decades – Dan) popped up and said hi.  He made the error of asking me about the novel and got about a days’ worth of blort.  Now I must cover up my shame in a nice big wordblanky.

Very much enjoying The Killing on Netflix.  Mireille Enos as Linden just doesn’t do any of that girly shit (and she’s small, freckled, not in the first flush of youth and doesn’t appear to use makeup or do more than brush her hair for work). We finished (heavy sigh) the Jeremy Brett Sherlock Holmes. It was really excellent, all 41 episodes.

Nobody should care about my lunch

But it’s important to me, because Jeff caught the fish I am eating.

I’m having smoked salmon pâté with Natural Pastures brie, sliced purple onion, on a very expensive toasted crostata bun. With a side of raw baby carrots and Assam/Darjeeling blend tea.

Jeff is vacuuming downstairs. I should probably do something about the kitchen floor since he’s being so enterprising.

Just got off the phone with Sandra; she had a reasonably good visit with Paul and she just got buzzed by three pileated woodpeckers, so there’s that.  I hope the rest of his travels are safe and fair.

Terrible night’s sleep

I have mostly not been having insomnia, but last night was pretty bad.

Today, job search, practice and writing.

Paul is in Ontario staying with Sandra.  They had steak cooked over a fire last night.  I hope Paul is at least able to get Sandra into a canoe – one of the drawbacks of owning a fantastic property is that you’re too busy looking after it to enjoy it.

Wish I was there!

 

 

Mike was here

Just after 7 Mike called and said he was walking in the neighbourhood; considering where he lives the only reasonable meeting point is the Oliver Twist. He shouted me a dinner of two beers, the saddest plate of nachos I’ve ever seen (in that it was both burnt AND had unmelted cheese, but of course I ate them anyway, and wings (he had chowder) and lo but how I dread the prospect of the loo tomorrow as I was most immoderate with the jalapeños.

He walked me home; Jeff was still up so we took in an Archer. He just left.

We discussed a Nazi Zombie movie night.

I am a happy woman. It is great to have friends so close.

Nothing much to report

Katie came over yesterday; we went for a short walk and I gave her the last half of the banana bread, not that it would have survived until Jeff got here anyway. I read this article to her. We had a good talk about it.

I tried writing this morning but I’m too distracted and ‘off’. I’m also really feeling my back,

I found out there’s a company that will pick up take out and bring it to you, so maybe the next time Jeff and I have a craving for Switzerland Chicken we can get it that way. They’re also licenced to bring beer. Hey, I will be leaving the house today, don’t worry! I’m thinking of walking down to New Westminster and then taking the bus back to spare myself that hill.

Dara, a filk/fb acquaintance, has rewritten some of Yahoo’s code to make the email groups work properly again. This while making an album and renovating her kitchen. Gumption, SHE HAZ IT.

Tony Stewart ran over (accidentally or not) and killed a 20 year old man named Kevin Ward Jr at a racetrack last night. He’s apparently going to race again today, which I think is the height of cluelessness. This show must go on the sponsors are waiting shit has gotta stop. Unless you’re Weird Al Yankovic continuing to tour after his parents died, that was awesome.

I watched the news, and regular tv, last night. When did all commercials become so sexualized? Why is local news so boring? Then I watched something called 16×9 and just wanted to punch out walls for a while. The story was great but I was so mad it ruined my evening, I just ended up going to bed super early. Syngenta is evil!

Increments

Sandra posted a pic I sent her of the Chanterelle mushrooms; it’s at the FAQ part of her site. I am also thinking of her these days; a mutual acquaintance is a professional German translator so maybe since all of her best customers are German tourists we can get her site translated.

I am getting fairly nasty arthritis pain and loss of mobility in my finger joints; practicing each day does not improve it, but I’ll lose all my skillz if I don’t keep on it. I’ve been practicing almost every day for a year now and everybody including me can tell. Bless Interfilk for sending me to Georgia! I had such a good time. I’ve got Conflikt 8 to look forward to… I’ve never missed one!

Paul took me walking in Oakalla (otherwise known as Deer Lake Park) yesterday. It was a simply gorgeous day, and we saw a green frog sitting up in one of the little ponds next to the walkway. Thanks be, they’ve put in a portable potty in the parking lot on the Royal Oak side, I sure needed it as I was exiting the walk. Then back to Geekhaus for beers on the back deck. Paul brought jello! it was a welcome respite from the heat. I got the ceiling fan fired up in my room and it’s been much more pleasant sleeping… most mornings these past two weeks I’ve woken up collared in sweat, bleaugh. I swapped parsley salad and nuts for the jello.

This morning I’ll be off to a late breakfast with my friend Sue.

Where’s my flying car

Bill and Brenda Sutton ask the question….

Tre and Battery came over yesterday and we laughed and talked and drank beer and broke out the pinball machines for the little guy. Very pleasant afternoon, and Jeff and I love that they never call first. We’re either here and happy to see them or away and sad we missed them. It’s like slipping back into another era, when it’s good that friends drop by.

In about twenty minutes we’re going to jump in the car and guh help us PAY for a movie. But 10 am on a Sunday sounds like the perfect way to avoid the crowds; Guardians of the Galaxy is supposed to finally be ‘the summer hit’. The fan reviews have been AWESOME. We shall see.

I am working on the novel still… it’s still fun after all.

Keith called yesterday (how good to hear his voice) to basically just check in. Happy sigh. If it wasn’t so oppressively sticky and hot, I’d say my life was a big old dream.

Continuing to love on Europe Central

This is the best novel I’ve read since the 40 rules of Love, and it’s a really really different book.  I am finding it enthralling reading. (Except for the typos, and there were a couple of doozies).  Historical characters – snared in conflicting loyalties and pushed to the snapping point time and time again, broken on the wheel of tyranny -command attention from every page.  Superlative.  His prose has the effortful grace of a bird of prey taking off.  He calls Hitler ‘the sleepwalker’.  Yesterday I watched a documentary on the death of Stalin for more background.

Hymn sing yesterday at Tom and Peggy’s was wonderful, and I took a cilantro salad based on the one Sandra taught me.  (oh god, the food she fed me…. it was amazing, stellar, eye popping, wonderful). Two bunches cilantro wash the hell out of them pick them over and chop.  One rinsed can kidney beans, make em yourself if you can. A cup of walnuts, broken up.  Rather more garlic than you would think necessary, minced.  Lemon juice all together maybe three tablespoons.  No salt, no pepper.  I’m also going to try this with parsley.

Jeff and Katie went to Wreck Beach yesterday.  I would have gone, but I put out my knee somehow and every time I go up and downstairs my eyebrows bob up and down and I puff and blow in a most elderly way.

I read mOm what I wrote in Madawaska and she laughed in all the right parts. Now on to more serious bits.  It can’t all be waltzes and comedy.