Category: Friends

The good and the bad

The bad first – the bookkeeper hasn’t responded to my requests and that means I’ll be standing in front of everybody at church tomorrow with no backup information, just the budget for next year.

Fortunately, I am very relaxed about it.  It will be embarrassing, but so what?  I’ve sh*t myself in public, that was worse.  Also, in retrospect, an extremely funny story.  Actually, twice now, once in the Parliament buildings.  I mean, that’s funny in and of itself.

The good – saw Robof9 and Liz last night with Paul for dinner out in Langley. OH IT WAS SO GOOD TO SEE THEM.  I miss Rob, he’s still as much of a card as ever.  We talked a little about Paul’s biz idea but mostly visited.

More bad – there was a f*cking coyote IN THE YARD last night.  I was having an intense convo with Paul about his biz idea in the car, sitting in the driveway, and when I saw the coyote I screeched “The CATS” and booked it into the house to check in on them, all okay thanks for asking.

Candle lighting

I light a candle for Katie and a good 25th year for her.  She’s off to a good start.

I light a candle for Julie, whose pregnancy is so difficult she will be in hospital until the baby is born.

I light a candle for Chipper, who is sounding more so.  She has the WORLD’S WORST CONTRACTOR, at least as far as memory serves.  Her cable provider does unspeakable things to long dead goats, also.

I light a candle for Rebecca, who recently started coming to church and who has a simply charming babe in arms.

I light a candle for Lois and her midwifery dreams.  High hopes, high hearts, dear one!

I light a candle for Jeff, who ate an entire batch of cookies yesterday.  It is a special mercy of providence that I’m only making a dozen at a time, I’d fear for his safety otherwise.

I light a candle for Keith, who is enjoying his new job, both in terms of the level of competence of his coworkers and the fact that he’s doing what he wants to do.

I light a candle for Paul, who body checked me by way of saying hello when he ‘ran into me’ at the mall the other day.  I burst out laughing after I got over my startlement… it was such a Paul thing to do.

I light a candle for all honest police officers, all dutiful firefighters, all troops serving the Queen.

I light a candle for independent journalists and documentarians.

I light a candle for all retail workers in this, the most wretched time of year.

I light a candle for the animal companions, past and present.  May their spirits encourage us to live in the now.

I light a candle for the weather.  It has been rainy, but it hasn’t been cold, and as one of my Seattle based fb friends says, you don’t have to shovel it.

I light a candle for my landpeers.  Bert and Kim are made of awesome; I am so happy they look after us.

I light a candle for the successful canvass at church, it’s a big load off my mind.

I light a candle for those who have entered the grove; Unca David, John, Derry, Grandad, Granny, Grandma, Kaitlin, Miriam, George, Carmen, Phillip, Grampa, Bounce and Gizmo.

I light a candle for the displaced, the enslaved, the unwanted and the wounded.

I light a candle for the hope kindled in all of us, sometimes, when it seems there’s no hope to spare.

Canvass is done – thankfully

Sue and I can now quit worrying about that and start worrying about other things.  The church community pulled through and all beings may experience happiness.  I still have to survive the budget meeting, but that will be okay.

Yesterday I realized I have been going about this time off thing all wrong.  I wrote out Beacon Birthday (substantially complete, no lyrics).  I went to the spa and got a lemongrass scrub and hot stone massage, which I needed like you would NOT believe.  I went to Sue’s to do church business.  I did a small shop, which Jeff is going to get the benefit of today as I have a nice brekky planned for him.  I did not go singing, but I did record SIX SEPARATE SONGS by singing into my phone.  I’ve had songs in my head for days, and I composed and recorded, on the spot, six songs.  I don’t even know if they were the songs that have been kicking around my head.  But I certainly seem to have no shortage.

Being off work has made it possible.

Margot came and snuggled with me again.  She likes my bed better now that I’ve gone back to using the duvet cover.

And I quit worrying.  Life is short, and the part of life where I’m mobile and get to enjoy myself is vanishing before my eyes.

I also figured out what I am giving for Christmas.  It is good. I think my friends will like it.

Look at these sloths

Look at them!

So I am 54 years old today.  I’ve already been up for two hours; I made turkey swossage and eggs and toast and coffee and chocolate chip cookies for brekkie.

Today I will practice musical instruments, clean things and go out and eat in a restaurant.  Also watch some TV.

Tammy’s dad has been sent home from the hospital with terminal cancer.  I am very anxious for Tammy’s mother, who has had a horrible time (there have been other family meshugas which I dasn’t speak of), and anxious obviously for Tammy, because her life was already up around the load line before her dad got sick.

Spent the day with Katie yesterday.  She took home $400 of supplies from Costco yesterday.  Now she owes me money, which I don’t imagine I’ll ever see, but given that I’ve gone over to her place half a dozen times now and there hasn’t been anything but mustard, pickles and mayo in the fridge, making sure they had a decent supply of sugar and rice and burritos seemed like a good thing.  Boyfriend is working and Katie is still enjoying living with him, partly because there aren’t any banned subjects of conversation.  I like him because Katie is either the world’s bestest faker or she’s genuinely happy… except for work.  Working with older people means they die, a lot, and Katie’s getting burnt out on that.

Speaking of old, did I mention my decrepitude?  Fifty-four.  I can hear my parents making sepulchral groans about how that’s nothing.

Talked to Carrie on the phone the other day.  There have been so many earthquakes in Masset that she’s freaking out and wanting to get the hell off the island.  Haida Gwaii is great until you realize you live 35 feet above sea level in a tsunami zone.  She was also VERY VERY unimpressed at how white people in trucks drove past little old Haida ladies on scooters when the Tsunami warning went off.  Yuppers, if you want to see the best and worst of people, hang out in a war/disaster zone.

Everybody have a lovely day!!!

Didn’t get the job

Oh well, there’s always another one, right.

Keith got told yesterday they were going to be reducing his hours and 18 hours later had another job.  A more effective way of saying ‘FUCK YOU’ is difficult to imagine.   He was quite pleased with himself and got mom’s fusilli and slow cooked spaghetti sauce as a reward.

Also, the new Homeland, which was awesome, but I like any Homeland where Brody and Carrie have face time.

Carrie is getting MOTION SICKNESS from all the aftershocks in Masset.  I don’t think she wants to be living there any more.  Time to inspect the earthquake kits again.

 

 

HG Wells

I am very cross with all of you.  Why did no one tell me that HG Wells is FUNNY?

From the very first page of “The War in the Air”, comes this gem.

He lived in a world of obstinate and incessant change, and in parts where its operations were unsparingly conspicuous.

From the third page, after a likely young lad has purchased his first motorbike:

The hire-purchase system bridged a financial gap, and one bright and memorable Sunday morning he wheeled his new possession through the shop and onto the road, got on to it with the advice and assistance of Grubb, and teuf-teuffed off into the haze of the traffic tortured high road, to add himself as one more voluntary public danger to the amenities of the South of England.

I can hear John reading that aloud and guffawing with laughter.

 

 

The good and the bad

Three homilies in the making

The manifold path – the various things people have done to experience the numinous.  I had extensive notes at one point and lost them, so reconstructing it is a bear.

I had a comrade – coping with loss of friends

This Chalice – the symbol of our faith.

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful homily by Sandy Burpee yesterday at church.  Sandy has been active in social justice issues since forever, and he is a force to be reckoned with; his accomplishments include getting Beacon involved with the food bank in Coquitlam and getting more social housing into the Tri-Cities.  The homily was in the form of a description of what a day is like at the food bank and I was moved to tears.  We are SO fortunate to have people like the Burpees (Cathy is awesome too!) at our church.

Wore my bardic hat to church.  I love the reference in The Wire to ‘the Sunday crown’ so that’s how I referred to it.  Lovely long chat with Rob W after church.  He likes me because he can be politically incorrect around me.  C’mon, he’s ex-military – gotta cut the man slack somewheres.  I told him about me new project, which is A COMPLETE LIST OF GENDERED SLURS, more on that in another post.

Saw Keith briefly yesterday, we had a nice long chat.

FINALLY heard back from the rellie regarding the piece of furniture I have to go pick up.  He said he might bring it down but he wasn’t enthusiastic, and a drive to Pemberton is no prob.  Thinking of hiring Katie’s dood to assist, and he’s got rellies up there himself so it might all work out.  More on that when we finally get it.

It’s Pledge drive time at church!  If you want to support children so that they may go to a Sunday school where (age appropriate) they can learn about sexuality, critical thinking skills and why being civil is better than being a jerk without getting pounded in the ear about God, please send a cheque in any amount to Beacon Unitarian Church, #414 – 552A Clarke Road,  Coquitlam, BC V3J 0A3. Thank you, no salesthingy will call.  I got Keith to pledge, which pleased me NO END.

I have a LOT OF STUFF to do and of course am swithering about doing it.

Eddie is calling and running up and down the stairs.  Sometimes 10 pounds of cat can sound like heffalumps.

Made stirfried chicken and veg/rice, plus bonus rice pudding, for dinner last night.

Woke up about two hours ago missing John, which started this all off again.  It would have been his birthday this past week, which is probably why I have been thinking about him so very much.

Excellent news

I have a job test on Monday at noon which I am very pleased about.

Also I actually TYPED the minutes and sent a draft to Sue already; the board meeting was last night.

Also Sue and I ground our way through the Stewardship Drive work (she did most of the work but I will be instrumental in getting it all printed for the pledge package).

Furnace on for the first time this year.  House smells like a dusty cat.

 

Visits.

Visited with Sue this morning to help her download from her daddy’s funeral. He was 102.  Meshuggas about the inheritance; waiting is.

LOVELY visit with Mike last night (funnily enough I’d been kvetching to Paul, with whom I was practicing yesterday, about how MIKE WUZ NOT RETURNING MY CALLS WAHWAH) and he called around 8 and I kinda forst him to let me come over.  I brought Otto and sang Theo’s Theme and John Scalzi’s Blog and Compost and Grateful and It’s Just So Nice When Someone knows your Name, and Lemming’s Twofer, and the first verse of Wanted to Believe, and Mike sang the drop D version of Dylan’s Tangled up in Blue and another song, I can’t remember which.  We talked about various things, including how trying work is for him right now, and how the insomnia really doesn’t help. BUT HE FOUND THE TAYLOR.  His parlour guitar was lost in the move but he found it again, and so me happy.  I was VERY BAD and drank two beers, which made me so drunk I collapsed on the sofa and slept from 10:30 til 8:30 the next morning.  Two beers.  I always was a lightweight, but this was ludicrous.  Also worked on Rozo for a while, her shoulders were a reticulation of weenie little knots.  While I was there Mike called Brian and I got to talk to him for a while.  There is nothing like the sound of a friend’s voice, yanno?

This morning I came home and promptly started brekkie for Jeff, being melon and bacon and pamcakes, and then Sue called and I went off and had a second breakfast of more coffee.  Also, getting checks signed so I can pay some churchy bills. Then I wandered into a sign shop and ORDERED the John Caspell Memorial Pinball Parlour sign for reelz this time, and then my other errands got shunted aside as I had to trot home due to the coffee.

Now I am looking up the language of flowers on the internet for a bouquet I’m buying for the minister tomorrow and as soon as I change my clothes – ew, slept in my clothes, what am I, frosh at some scummy college??? – I’ll be off to buy a floral bouquet, pick up some more spray paint, and buy some eggs and butter to get going on some biscotti.  Roast chicken for dinner tonight.  MMMMM chicken.

I cooked a pork roast the other night with basil and lemon thyme from Suzanne’s deck garden.  It was nommy too, although Jeff owned that it was a little overcooked.  We did agree that pork roast should be roasted, it doesn’t cook right in the crock pot.

Paul and Keith are off to Seattle for the long weekend.  Katie is doing cat care this time; I should call her.  The only reason I know she’s alive is from her facebook comments.

Miss Margot has been extra barfy.  I need to brush her very very thoroughly and give her a lot of kitty malt.

SO LOOKING FORWARD TO SINGING NEW SONG FOR MINISTER.  he he.

RIP Herbert Lom

Died in bed at 95 in London.  May his memory be blessed with laughter and tears.

Stupid bill re recriminalizing abortion did not pass; the Minister responsible for the Status of Women should be escorted from the Commons in the electoral equivalent of chains.

Although the title and the illo are THOUGHTLESSLY hyperbolic, this is a good article about privilege. 2020 says Hugo Schwyzer turned out to be rillllly problematic, but I’m leaving this here as evidence of progress, and it’s amazing given the drubbing he took that this writing is still available

I have a very heavy day of appointments and church related work in front of me.

VCon starts, I’m not going.  All I will do is spend stupid amounts of money on clothes.  Hilariously, RobW called me last night to complain about the Vcon website; this does not bode well for how good the con will be.

Paul and Katie and I had a lovely walk in Deer Lake Park on Wednesday; we saw a dozen frogs, a juvenile eagle, a Douglas squirrel and possibly a baby bunny, who did not linger to make our acquaintance.  I got some video of the frogs but it’s basically a streak heading for the rushes.  I also got a pic of the Douglas squirrel but not at very high resolution, even though the little guy POSED in TWO SEPARATE POSES for me.  We also picked up a hawk feather, which I stuck in Margot’s fur when I got home and resulted in a couple of charming pictures, one of which I posted to twitter. 2020 says that was a flicker feather, not a hawk feather, no kidding.

I’m going to ask Jeff to help me figure out how to post pics directly to my blog through WordPress, although possibly not today.

After many months of being okay, my temperature regulation at night has gone off the rails.  I have acceptably ordinary physiological reasons for this but waking up poaching in my own bed a couple of times a night is harshing my mellow.  This too shall pass.

Yet another sports figure is being accused of sexual and physical abuse of youngsters in his care.  The way it’s being reported in the press is quite bizarre.  I guess we’ll let the courts sort it out; the reporter had more than half a dozen affidavits detailing misconduct in hand before writing the story, and while we all know that there are false abuse allegations, it’s not the way to bet, especially since we’re talking about a Catholic residential school for falsely imprisoned young aboriginals.

Raincoaster just tweeted that an alarm went off close to her and a stern voice is speaking in German.  Helluva way to get woken up, unless of course she was already awake.  She and I trade tweets in the middle of the night fairly often.

What’s up on facebook:  18 billion reposts from reddit, mine among them, and people commenting about the things that make them upset – relatives dying abruptly in car accidents leaving young children, angst about how this is the first time her only child is out with the non-custodial parent on a football game day, the fact that 27 million people globally live in slavery, and me attempting to get a copy of (this poster). 2020 says it was something cool by Matt Danger but now it’s gone.

meliphore and aptitude

…. Meliphore means sweetness bearer so it is an ENDEARMENT.  Have you hugged your meliphore today?

As for aptitude, I must say that I am fortunate that I have by some happy accident surrounded myself with people with a very great aptitude for friendship.  I’d like to thank Paul for lunch, walkies, music and clipping Kira’s claws; I find clipping cat claws restful, which I suppose can only burnish the kneecaps of my reputation.

Patricia and Damian get married.

My friend Patricia married her sweetie Damian last night on the rooftop of the Loden hotel.  The bride was radiant in a simple cream gown, the groom beaming with happiness, the weather was glorious, the bar was open (I drank two tiny glasses of champagne and three beers over 6 hours; by the time I got to Edmonds Station I was ), the om nom noms were choice (including a blowout of Levnichocolate.com, OMG, as the proprietor Paul Dincer was an attendee), and it was an Australian-Canadian dance-off with the best wedding DJ I’ve ever heard. Dude could sync beats like a shaman.  Folks from Melbourne sure know how to party!  And the dresses!  Damian’s sister was wearing the most brilliantly coloured and celebratory dress evah.  I got to sing the couple “The Happily Married Song” which I have sung for a number of couples now, (they asked me for the lyrics, w00t!) I danced like a fool, and the civil ceremony was so touching, and so mercifully brief, that those raised on Irish Catholic weddings were all “yes, this.”  Two families were blended in what I will recollect as being the most auspicious start to married life I’ve ever witnessed. Mazel tov!