Category: Grandson goo

Singing

I know it’s  very weird to be rehearsing with a band that I’m not part of, but given that Mayhem has constraints (how can Mayhem HAVE constraints) that I can’t get into, because, strangely, reasons involving stupidity on the part of others in foreign climes, I kind of have to.  I suppose that wasn’t really a useful or discursive thing to say.  But I was singing last night and Peggy fed me and Shad an awesome dinner.  I loves me some Peggy.

I am writing, I am editing, and it all goes glacially slowly.  About three hundred words a day and maybe a page of edits.

I am seeing if I can go more than a couple of weeks without drinking.  I no longer seem able to process beer and it makes me really really sad.  It shouldn’t because, hey, water comes out of a tap and that was Adam’s ale, and Vancouver has the best municipal water system in the world, and the tap water is yummy, but I all sad face. Like I want to make a painting of a stubby or something.  Also, there is no chocolate cake in the house.  There should at least be cookies.  And I can always make more cake.  There is a drained lake of beer in my heart that only cake or possibly cookies can fill.

People want to know how much I’m seeing Alexander.  I’m seeing him as much as his mother and I agree seems to be right, and while it could be more, my own dear Grandma didn’t see me until I was walking, and it really helps to keep a sense of perspective about these matters.  If somebody wants my advice they can scarcely get the request out before I’m a-schpraying them, firehose-wise, with a side of and-another-things.  I have concerns of my own, thank the dear one.  Being an introvert Grandma is an interesting experience.

Let us now praise obscure women

Long time followers of this blog will understand that I think that Lois is the Goddess Come Among Us (my mOm is of much the same opinion) and Lois did nothing but burnish her reputation as she conveyed me and Katie and Alex to church.  Pre-teen boys and other grandmas looked at him with happiness, and apart from wailing during the diaper change (which is standard) we had a lovely time at church.

I have some pictures but I’m still processing / messing with them. Preen.

I am very happy right now.

 

No pictures

I have memories, but no pictures of Alexander meeting his great-grandparents, his great great auntie, his cousins and various other family members.

He was a complete trooper, but at 4 pm he pretty much lost it and cried continuously.  Poor Katie; he had never cried that much before.  All he wants is his mom.

Anyway, I think this is pretty much how Alex viewed his late afternoon yesterday.  NOT SAFE FOR WORK.

The first section is in the mail to the editor today.

Madeleine Albright HOSES Conan O’Brien.

Would you believe that close

Oh, man, Jeff would have laughed his ass off if he’d seen me doing the trash yesterday.  The garbage truck comes down the alley one way and then back up t’other, so I had some warning, but I ran around like a hopped up honey badger throwing the garbage and recycling together.  I spent so much time cleaning out the fridge in the early hours of yesterday morning (and by Toutatis, it needed it) that I didn’t actually have things ready to go when the truck rumbled by.  Fortunately everything was in order when they came back up the hill.  And even more fortunately, the lingering smell of DEATH, CORRUPTION AND HORROR in the kitchen should be entirely gone as everything narsty is gone as well.

Yesterday I went to the single most bizarre job interview EVAR.  It was a masterpiece, a confection of weird, a symphony of surreal.  JUST IN CASE I get the job, I shall not describe it further. I was already in New Westminster, so I phoned Katie and she said c’mon by, so I did.

Alexander farts a lot.  He also blew his first raspberry yesterday. (We howled.) He is already lifting his head; he’s average size but holy crap he’s strong.

Then I walked over to the beer store and went home.

I have printed off the first section of the novel and will be mailing it the the editor today.  Heaving sighs.

I am also going to be sending something to Sandra, but she doesn’t read this blog any more so it will still come as a surprise to her.  I still have some t’s to cross.

Ain't he cute???
Ain’t he cute???

 

Alexander’s First Thanksgiving.

Comments having nothing to do with Alexander:

Margot likes babies.  She doesn’t even leave the room when they cry.  Every time I think I know my cat she reveals unexplored depths of character and personality.

It was so good to feast the folks, including Mike and Casey.  The meal consisted of (because mOm will want to know, not because I am a food porn type): Roast turkey stuffed with parsley, one head of garlic and a lemon, boiled and roasted yams, brussels sprouts parboiled in chicken stock and sauteed in butter, sauteed parsnips, iceberg lettuce salad, stuffing made in the crockpot (sadly lacking onions, but still damned good), boughten cranberry jelly, homemade gravy and possibly the worst – the most gluey and lumpy – smashed potatoes I ever made.  Everybody else ate them so it’s not like they were inedible, they just weren’t choice.  Absolutely no sweets, but white and red wine, plus beer, to go with the meal. I did promise Paul his mother’s lemon snow recipe for dessert but that will wait for our next meal together; he very kindly did veg prep and ran people ’round town and brought wine glasses and suchlike, for which I offer thanks and praise.

Keith got off work early; Katie turned up around 4, so we all sat down together around six.

The carcase, less the sandwich making leftovers, is in the stockpot; I made beef and bean burrito fillings yesterday as well, so I don’t think I’ll have to cook for a while, yay me!  I mean apart from deboning the soup ingredients.

Around 8 Katie got toothpicks, and Casey was in the same boat, so Paul took them home.  For another hour Mike, Jeff, Keith and I sat around downstairs and watched Archer, and then since the boys both work in the morning, off they went.

It was not a spectacular meal, but it wasn’t one that anybody else in our group would have WANTED to cook, so I’m glad I stepped up.  After I could sit down, I had a lovely evening.

 

And Alexander was there.

 

Alexander disapprovesHappy Grandma

Natal Tarot

The Natal chart is Nine Cards formed up in a tree of life:

Father (or father’s family) – 5 Pentacles

Mother (or mother’s family) – Queen of Pentacles

Family (of birth or adoption) – 8 Swords

Health – Ace of Swords

Longevity – Knight of Pentacles

Occupation – 7 Pentacles

Contribution – 6 Pentacles

Need –  The Magician

Life Motif – Ace of Wands

 

This is the life flow of a practical, not particularly talkative or  spiritual individual who may be depended on to work hard, show up, be kind and jump in where others hesitate.  He will rise above family disputes when not called upon to broker them.  His longevity will be determined by his habits, but he will tend all his life to be old-fashioned, and to enjoy the work of those who have a lot to teach him.  I see someone aloof and kind, intelligent and unimpressed by book learning, glitz and laziness.

 

 

 

Pic

mOm will get more of them, but here’s one.

 

Grandma laughing.  That’s me with 4Hr Callback (a perfectly acceptable nickname for a kid who made his appearance after 4 hours of labour) and his exceedingly mellow mom.  The delivery room nurses, when she left the hospital at 8 am on Monday (literally the soonest they would discharge her without putting a big fat AMA on the chart), told her that she had no right to look like she hadn’t just given birth.  Apgar 8 and 9 and a solid feeder, although still quite sleepy.  He has the least annoying cry of any newborn I ever heard, and only demonstrated it to show he could do it, as far as I can tell.  A solid, well-fleshed child, the image of his da.

 

DSC01343

Round up

Now that is a very nice use of the gif format.

I haven’t seen Alexander yet.  Katie called yesterday and she’ll call me when she’s ready to receive visitors at home.

This infographic on prayer made me alternately very uncomfortable and amused.  As an atheist, I can’t separate prayer from ‘wishing so hard that you’re practically grunting so that an imaginary being of its infinite kindness rearranges causality and the laws of physics for your personal benefit’.  As a church lady, I have to say I understand the benefit of GROUP prayer, which is a form of prosocial entrainment.  Personal prayer, the petitioning kind unencumbered by meditation or humility, is just plain gross.

Somebody on Reddit said that Gilbert Gottfried and Fran Drescher “should have children. The marines could use them to clear public areas.”

Stop motion parkour fight. I laughed out loud watching this.

The pet relationship is very important to humans and now of course we have the science to prove it.

Dealing with bullies changes with the technology. Professors deal with bad reviews.

Am I jealous because the last time I was catcalled I was 36?  No, it’s one of the best damned things about getting older.

Gosh, if only dealing with conspiracy nuts was this easy. Cause it really isn’t.

Gangs of roving yeshiva students

Well, it’s one way to get a divorce.

Paul and Katie are going to come get me to go …. stroller shopping.  That money the fOlks gave me for just such a purpose will now be used….

I am feeling much better today.  I have apparently been shortlisted for a job, and am just waiting to hear back. Coconut oil is a healing balm.

Also, I made cake!

Yay! Tammy is coming for Christmas!

I had such a lovely time with her the last time she was here and it gives me something fun to look forward to. She’ll have Katie’s baby to chuck under the chin too, inshallah.

Strangely, though I do collect moose, this morning was the first time I’d heard of this.

First draft of the novel is on track for completion second week of September.  Then my mother and I are going to edit the hell out of it, and then I’m going to pay a professional to edit it.

 

be careful, you!

Preventable, regrettable.

Helped Katie get a live mouse for Izzy’s dinner yesterday.  The last frozen one she fed him ‘exploded’ upon being warmed up (you thaw them in warm water, NOT the microwave, what were you thinking).

I very much enjoyed the ‘Transferrable skills’ workshop at WorkBC yesterday.

I watched “American Primetime” a documentary about four fundamental character types in contemporary tv.  Also, Gonzo, which was amazing, and Johnny Depp’s narration is choice, and the archival footage is awesome and freaky, as are the soundtrack choices.

 

 

 

 

Weather report

To quote an Aberdonian “Aw naw, snaw!”

Yup, soggy shit be fallin’ from de skies.

Open and close at church again today (traded with someone so she could be with her family).

I am currently working up yet another shopping list (this one will be official and look purty).

In family news, the grandsnake is now called Izzy.  HE IS HONGRY ALL THE TIME OM NOM NOM.  Kyle said he wanted to feed him live ones, but he’s eating reconstituted frozen ones as if he was a high school linebacker let loose on an all you can eat buffet.  So Katie’s year of snake care (she actually slept in Opal’s room) comes through again.  He’s shedding, so he’s crabby.  Katie says he’s becoming hand tame very fast…. provided YOU move slow.

Now I need to jump in the shower and get gwine.