Category: Grandson goo

Emotionally charged

Yeah, it was a day of emotionally charged phone calls. May it all be well. It was a relief candidly to talk to Dave D on the phone and just be shooting the shit about commonplaces.

Alex was here and we recorded (I managed to record me farting and Alex’s subsequent howl of outrage was so funny I put it all on loop and then the two of us nearly died laughing.) We never did manage to get down the road to Paul’s.

Lovely night of sleep, I have my mug of tea  and a light repast and my marching orders for the day (call landlord about the dryer again) and Alex’s calendar for next week (early dismissal on Wednesday!)

Later:

533 words on Yaks are Not Admitted Past This Point

Jeff will be home sometime this afternoon.

 

 

regular day

Did a little shop with Alex after school to get some SCHNAX into the house.

Brief aside. For the CHEESE TAX.

I am awake far too early. Miss Jeff. Forgot to lock the cat door yesterday and haven’t seen Buster since supper, I’ll update once he’s up / home. Started rewatching Good Omens S1 because I’m a dolt.

Apparently there were immense streamers of northern lights across the north shore mountains last night.

mOm’s given me her marching orders with respect to the next Brad and Omar story, which will have YAKS. I will take some time to ruminate and then start writing again.

Next order of biz coffee.

 

finnegan beginegan

Because I am a complete compulsive graphomanic fool, I have commenced working on additional Brad and Omar stories. They will be assembled into my next book, which will be 10 or 12, 3000-12000 word stories continuing on in the Brad and Omar universe. (Dave already teased me that I might do this so yes you guessed right congrats sir!) This project is called “Matching Shorts: A Brad & Omar Collection”. It will cover the first couple of years after the events in Guyana.

I get Alex again this week. It’s such a privilege. It’s possible Jeff will be off to Victoria at some point soon to provide some assistance to mOm and pOp.

 

 

Good morning!

Alex was let in by Grunkle Jeff this am, I was so TIRED from getting up at midnight and then NOT being able to fall back asleep so that was embarrassing, kid standing on the stoop wondering where the hell I am.

We played on the Kaossilator and on various musical instruments this morning so I’m not just playing on my computer and sitting next to him all the time I’ll have you know!

Spoke to Keith, he saw Paul yesterday and things are not cool on the phone front but we knew that.

Leo was 80 this week. Congratulations, revered family elder!

1422 words yesterday. Only 150 so far.

Laundry from yesterday is folded and put away.

Saw Suzanne briefly yesterday for tax and computer stuff with Jeff, it was lovely to see her and she recounted cleaning Keith and Ben’s apartment for the first time and that was definitely funny and not repeatable.

I end this with a heartfelt wish for the early amelioration of the conditions of my pOp and Ontie Mary.

 

Learning how

Jeff played turn and turn about with Alex (Burnout Revenge – crash cars for points and lulz)

Now we learn that Alex is going to school with his dad and I pick him up at 3.

This works well for my day.

Ryker yelled my name (from behind his soother) at pick up that was adorable.

Anecdotal but blowout public diarrhea is a feature of the current COVID variant.

 

 

a few words

pOp is staying at least one overnight in hospital. My poor mother. He’s got an intermittent fever and the docs don’t like it. Her cleaning specialist was there today and (as always) a sweet and gentle Godsend for my mOm. Of course I told mOm to call me anytime. Conveyed Liz’s greetings to her and pOp.

This is Willow

Alex played with his friends for 15 minutes after school and got to see a chameleon!  (I waited in the car; friends are important!) His mommabear supplied him with a sammy for lunch.

I am continuing to train Buster regarding Alex. Before Alex came over I said about ten times; ‘Alex coming, noisy. Noisy Alex. Alex will be here soon.” Then when Alex was here (and playing gaming videos and minding his own business) I took him in to say hello but he didn’t bolt. He went into the next room, and didn’t hide (progress!!! yes!) and then I played with him and brushed him FOR A LONG TIME. He’ll get used to the lad yet. But of course letting him know that Alex is coming will help him adjust.

Buster isn’t complaining at all when we close the cat door. I think there’s a new mean kitty out there.

More laundry; two more loads today and the first three either folded or put away.

No joy whatsoever in getting hold of Paul. I assume since it’s a nice day he’s conversatin’ with the ladies out on the patio at Thornbridge. And I hope he has a lovely time!

Alex is using expensive paints and a seven dollar canvas to paint right now and I can hardly wait to see what he does. Right now it looks like the Eye of Sauron. He just threw huge swathes of copper paint on it this should be good.

 

 

quiet day

435 words. Not really feeling the writing at the moment, I’ll have some coffee and see if that helps. Bought beer yesterday, couldn’t drink it. AREN’T I FUNNY I lost my taste for it!

I’ll be minding Alex next week. It’s a big adjustment for me and Jeff. But after everything Katie has suffered, to have a convenient stopping off point for childcare is a big deal.

Pics as promised

Okay this one is not promised but I think my characterization of my mammogram as a ‘tittysmash’ appointment is CLASSIC.

I had literally just jumped out of the shower and not brushed my hair, but the all black outfits with Astronauts on them is pure fam and I make no excuse. Mine says “Earth to the Dandy Warhols” and Alex’s says Off to Space.

Barkeep, he seems to be saying. The soother comes into and exits his mouth on the basis of some arcane baby logic. He is STANDING ON THE CAT TREE which is lying on the ground because he kept climbing it. The cats KEITH VERY SAD have gone back to their original keeper.

 

Ryker equals Taz

Yesterday I helped out at my daughter’s place while my co-grandma-in-law Suzanne had an appointment, so I got to ‘care’ for Ryker. (By which I mean chase around the busiest toddler in 10000 years of human history.) He is 1.6 years old and can open doors already – that’s how tall he is.

Suzanne hung around for a while to transition the care over and I sat in the living room, touched my chest and said, “I’m GG”. (He knows who I am but he’s a human being and I was trying to be polite.)

A minute later he walked over to me, touched my chest, and softly said “GG”. Suzanne saw. I didn’t cry but it was a near thing. He used that name another time but I didn’t hear.

He is so close to talking in full sentences that it’s wonderful, and he puts two words together all the time – but he still uses baby sign for more – I was feeding him a cut up peach. Munch shudder munch shudder stuff munch shudder. It was hilarious.

When he was hungry, he climbed a bar stool -honest to god I was in the same room but not fast enough – and LAUNCHED HIMSELF into his ‘food appreciation chair – without toppling it, mostly because I finally found the JATO bottle and ‘hit it’ – arriving at the chair in time to ensure he didn’t fall off the FRONT of the chair.

In other grandson news, Alex and I were both wearing astronaut t-shirts and Suzanne got a pic (not available yet) and I got to watch Alex lovingly and appropriately interact with his brother (including carrying him out onto the deck so he could continue his passionate and one-sided love affair with the recycling truck) and okay, now I’m crying in earnest.

Ryker can also watch ‘Bluey’ (a recommended kids show, if you want to make your great grandchildren happy hint hint have some of it downloaded so they can watch it.) For twenty minutes at a time. He absolutely loves it and dances to the theme song. WHILE he’s jumping all over his mommabear’s bed. He fell off twice and walked it off. Fearless and self-soothing. TERRIFYING in other words.

AND I got to watch Alex playing a game, Carrion on Steam. It’s a pixellated horror side scroller and ‘not appropriate for my age’ as Alex sagely observed, playing the monster and casually eviscerating the security guards at the research facility. pOp, it would make you happy. I took my eye off Ryker for TWO FREAKING SECONDS (I was talking to Keith, who had just returned from Seattle and a visit to Hank and Janice and Laura with Paul) and he’s IN his brother’s room IN the computer chair (Keith says he has a thing for computer chairs) and PUTTING THE FUCKING HEADPHONES ON. He is the ultimate monkey. His new nickname is Taz, for the WB Tasmanian devil.

Jeff bought me a delicious chicken salad from White Spot yesterday. Honestly it’s one of the best I’ve ever eaten and packed with noms. And the air conditioning works, so again, thank you Jeff for picking out one of the most durable wheeled air-conditioning units ever sold. It was so hot the crows perched with their mouths open.

Jeff and Buster went for a walk this morning, I should find out how that went.

so sad for Buster

The cone doesn’t actually come off until tomorrow morning. After the cone shenanigans when he was neutered, Jeff with my cooperation is being a stickler for following the vet’s instructions. Sutures are out at least so he’ll be less itchy. He healed like a total champ.

Here’s an interesting article about Indigenous accomplishments in Australia, dating all the way back to the dreamtime.

I’m helping look after Ryker tomorrow.

I won’t talk about it in public, but I did something very stupid yesterday and made myself barf again. Jeff knows about it.

Booked a mammogram for August. Still have not been able to get hold of the doctor’s office but hopefully they’re open today.

come on Ryker let’s go potty

We asked him if he wanted to poo in the toilet and he vehemently said YEAH and then YEAH again when we checked and Grammy took him to the potty and HE PEED RIGHT AWAY. Katie will likely be thrilled, potty readiness has been achieved.

I sang to him and fed him his lunch and I have never, ever, in my life seen a toddler destroy food like Ryker. Guy’s a bottomless pit. Katie is already expressing horror at how much he’ll cost to feed as a teenager.

a few items

Mo-no-ny-mous
I mean Shakira
Mo-no-ny-mous
And also Cher
Mo-no-ny-mous
Adele and Bono
and Plato, & Cato,
Colette – and don’t forget Voltaire

(This above for mOm, I sang it to her the other day and she laughed so I thought I’d write it down for her.)

Made fruit salad for the meal yesterday. Last I saw, leaving their house, Paul was going to eat the rest before anyone got seconds. It was that good. And candidly, given that he daily complains about how hard his poops are, who minds that he inhales some food value with his roughage.

It consisted of pieces of melon, blueberries, strawberries, mangoes, the best fucking Bartlett pears I ever et, and oranges. The dressing which is from a recipe I got online, I’m not smart enough to invent it, and it’s for those who can eat dairy: a cup and a half of 10%BF Greek yogurt, three tablespoons of maple syrup and half a capful of vanilla. WORDS CANNOT EXPRESS how nommy it is, and like I said I would have taken home leftovers if there had been any. The mouth feel, good god yall.

Oreo sat on my shoulders a good long while and purred hard in my ear.

I PLAYED A BOARD GAME WITH THREE QUARTERS OF MY DESCENDANTS YESTERDAY. It was Alex’s idea and I had so much fun. Hasbro’s latest version of Clue, if you need to know.

Dax changed the oil in my car. I asked him anxiously from the back deck if the oil was very dirty and he swilled it around in the container and considered the matter and said, ‘Yes’ so dryly that I burst out laughing. I owe him forty bucks for the filter and the oil so I’ll be heading out to drop it off sometime today. Perhaps I’ll combine it with a trip to Peggy’s to ditch that weird fretless bass ukulele.

Made soup yesterday. Started with a litre of unsalted Campbell’s chicken stock, added organic ramen (so damn good), chopped carrots, mushrooms, baby bok choi, a little tiny dab of veggie soup base, a splish of soy sauce. Today or tomorrow I am going to attempt Instant Pot (did you know the parent company is going out of business thanks to asset stripping? Capitalism HOW YOU SUCK) red beans and rice. I may bake up some chicken breasts and taters since the weather seems to be veering off into ‘June-uary’ temperatures.

Thunder and lightning two days ago. Not usual for these parts. We talked about the weather a lot yesterday.

Ryker was just down for his nap and Alex kissed his head AND WOKE HIM UP. He was down for most of the meal and the board game but since he’d gotten no other nap that day and was up at 6:30 Katie was SPARE while Ryker ran around the house terrorizing everything he could and parroting everything his mother said. WITH HER INTONATION. He’s got dozens and dozens of words, some clear enough that people who don’t live with him can understand him. Keith was like that, pristine pronunciation from the git. But Ryker is DIFFERENT. He is stronger, braver (yeah, like no sense of self preservation) smarter, faster, funnier, more able to understand what the adults around him are saying, more able to self-soothe, more durable – he took hits yesterday that would have had me bawling and just walked it off – picking up language so fast. Mike the father brought him back with a pinch bruise on his leg from a recliner, apologetic af, and Katie wasn’t bothered. What can you do? He’s not Alex, or Keith, who conducted themselves from a very early age knowing that the world can bite ya. I told her they should promise each other ten bucks and hand it to whichever of them DOESN’T have to take him to hospital with a broken bone first. You should have seen Katie rubbing her face as she contemplated how many TIMES she’ll likely have to take him to hospital. Like the tshirt said, today we keep the tiny human alive. Except he’s NOT tiny, he can open and shut doors with the handle.

everything about the visit is overshadowed by the fact that Alex is crying every day about how he can no longer go to second street school because his mother can’t afford to live in the catchment area. And the landlord fucked her over by not giving her a duly completed eviction notice so she can’t move up the BC housing list. This world is a horrible place for my children right now and I am helpless.

Over 500 words on TB yesterday. Richie and Blossom have finally met.

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)

 

it’s been an age since I got a comment

This is everything to me. My attention to detail got someone’s attention. I MUST SPEAK TRUTH ABOUT DETROIT IRON OR RECEIVE THE DISAPPROBATION OF MY FATHER.

Ain’t lyin….

 

I loved so much about this story, but the thing I held closest to my heart was: Finally! Someone who realizes you couldn’t get air conditioning or a tape deck stock in a 67 impala.

Lovely walk with Paul yesterday, followed by distributing treats from Cobbs Bread and some sorting of his clothes. He asked me to help with the family photographs and then refused to let me help…. it was weird but okay. Ryker was A FREAKING MESS I am pretty sure he has allergies, he ran like a snottap the entire time I was there, and was seconds from crying the entire time, but I did interact with him when he wasn’t crying and stopped him from hucking his slippers downstairs.

How did I have a lovely walk with Paul? I didn’t talk, except to respond to him kindly and truthfully. And we sat and listened to birdsong for a good half hour, in companionable silence. I didn’t give him much help with sorting but it was some.

Brain is not good this morning. Wordle in 3. Scotoma dragons for an hour.

The Guyanese-descent gent I follow on twitter said something about how if you think brown people can’t be racist you haven’t met his extended family. SO I COMMENTED. Perhaps I should not have.  (mOm remember how I have Richie IMMEDIATELY comment sotto voce as to the ethnicity of a Black man he meets – including how long he’s been in Canada? when I was living in Toronto with my first husband it AMAZED ME how many Black people I met had very distinct and not always pleasant or pleasantly phrased opinions about where other people from the Terrible African Enslavement Diaspora were from and what kinds of personal behaviour, style of dress etc. we could expect from them…. stuff that made my little white middle class mind EXPLOOOOOODE) So my response to my Guyanese twitter ami was that of course brown people can be racist! BUT THEY WON’T BE WITHOUT COLONIALISM. The very distinct layercake of Guyanese life with the Amerindians (their term not mine, it’s racist TWO DIFFERENT WAYS and of course they should be spoken of by Indigenous nationality, language or cultural bonds) at the bottom and the descendants of the Black enslaved persons next up and then the Desi and Desi-blend folks (white people exist as tourists in Guyana, less than .5% are white AND THE CHINESE PEOPLE ARE LUMPED IN DEMOGRAPHICALLY WITH THE WHITE PEOPLE, CHEW ON THAT FOR A WHILE (I mean imagine it in Vancouver LOLOL)) resulted specifically from slavery and importation of guest workers and the distinct modern assignment of racial opprobrium flows from that.

As for Guyanese people, in my observations of the Caribbean hierarchy they: “Think they’re better than everyone else because they cling to decades-rotten colonial forms and ceremonies, drink way too much, fucking suck at cricket, and dress like bums.” Get a Bahamian to comment on Jamaicans some time, it’s like dropping Mentos in a Coke bottle. Believe it or not apart from the drinking too much I’ve heard all of these (re Guyanese) comments in person, and the drinking comment is based on the demonstrable fact that Guyana and Suriname (its neighbour and colonial sibling thanks to the Dutch) have much higher alcoholism and binge drinking rates than any of the closest Caribbean countries, and the alcoholism is supported by the unbelievably cheap and plentiful rum from the sugar cane plantations …. that came with colonialism. So no matter which end of the drunkard’s walk that is my approach to ranting you grab WE ARE GOING TO END UP AT COLONIALISM.

If asked to comment as to why 35 percent of Russian men have a drinking problem – the worst stat on earth for alcohol currently – I think I’m going to splay my hands and smile. Traumatized people self-medicate, amiright. Also, to be entirely fair, Canada’s alcoholism rate is higher – by 3 % – than Guyana’s. Just Saying. Also if you want an example of sexual dimorphism, the difference in the alcoholism rate in Russia between men and women is so huge it looks like a typo. Source worldpopulationreview