Category: Domestic Life

Andrew, you are brilliant

One of my filking fen has this to say on facebutt this morning:
Insurance lawyers were put on earth so that we would learn to love the honesty and ethics of Plaintiffs’ lawyers.

 

Made Peach and blueberry glop for pamcakes.  Which reminds me I should make them.

Happy sigh.  Katie over yesterday, and as is traditional, broke something, in this case the clothesline – full of laundry – onto freshly cut grass.  We will now consider how to restring it.  Spoke too soon.  Jeff doesn’t have to consider, he’s up there rehanging it.  I’ll stay handy in case he comes off the ladder.  AND HE SHALL HAVE PAMCAKES FOR BREAKFAST!

I am going out to Maple Ridge to do something musical today – if it is successful I’ll report back.  If not I’ll slink home a few dollars poorer but happy to have gone for a ride.

I’m probably going to miss meeting up with Patricia today as she was coming into New West, but o well.

BREAKING BAD OMG it is going to a VERY DARK PLACE.  People gwine die.

blah

Unbelievably loud and continuous thunderstorm last night starting around seven thirty – four hours at least maybe longer.  You should have seen Margot’s face as she bolted in the door as the first thunder hit.  Eyes like saucers. Then she stayed right next to my bedroom door all night.

Katie’s here; she cut my hair and helped me run some errands.

Can’t settle to anything…. feeling blah.

Sundry and various

Mars landing today.  It will either be an expensive failure or a spectacular success.

I think I’ll head off to Costco once it opens and pick up some serplies.  I definitely want to do it before the sun is up too high.

I have fallen in love with fresh chard salad.  Chop bunch of chard.  Nuke until soft.  Add butter and lemon. Refrigerate.  Nom.  It doesn’t get much simpler than that and my body provides very happy feedback when I ingest it.  (Oh, iron… b vitamins…. you love me, you really love me!)

2020 says THIS SHIT IS TURRIBLE FER YER KIDNEYS

I really wish it wasn’t so hot.  When it’s this hot at 8 in the morning it’s hard to get enthusiastic about any kind of physical labour.

Cleaned up the guest room, which used to be Katie’s dumping ground for all of her clothes (she refused to sleep on the guest room bed, always sleeping on the downstairs sofa).  I have removed the last of the Katie debris, cold medication, her assessment from the fitness club, half an earring set and suchlike, and now I’m contemplating dragging the vacuum cleaner downstairs.

I just want to stay curled up in bed with a Dorothy Dunnett novel, except it’s too hot to even do that.

Shredding

Much shredding yesterday.  Jeff said I had centuries old stuff, but nothing I shredded was older than 2009 when we moved in here, so neener to that.  More shredding today.  Then all clothes either sent off to Goodwill or put away, finding a home for the papers that didn’t get shredded, vacuuming again because more shmutz got released, and then off to the accountant.

Last night The Band That Shall Not Be Named had a rehearsal.  Now we have to get canonical exemplars of each of the songs.  And start working on “How do we start it?” and “How do we Stop it?”

I have given up on having somebody in my life volunteer to give me a half hour massage, and started paying for it.  I feel better midback and up but my lower back is telling me to leap off a bridge.

Happy days!!!!

Sundry and various

DARWIN’S BEARD!!! Have any of you seen the sheet music for Queen’s Bohemian Rhapsody?

A.  It whipsaws back and forth between 4/4 and 5/4 time. Cazart!

B.  It uses guitar chords so hard to play that only somebody with a left hand like the Incredible Hulk and the speed of the Flash could even attempt them, let alone play ’em in close order drill like that. Cue me swearing like a dockside bawd.

C.  Crawling away now with my various inadequacies breaking trail.

Phew, Imagine is much easier, played slower, and still interesting musically.

If anybody’s wondering I’m working my way through MTV’s 100 best pop songs looking to challenge myself with new chord progressions and possibly ‘Songs I may attempt to learn at some point.’

Oh, thank the Zimmermans for Dylan, the worst chord for Tangled Up In Blue is F#m, which is a bar chord so simple even I can play it.

Mike’s 45th bday today at Garry Point Park.  Jeff and I plan to go for a couple of hours.

Jeff and I did the lawn yesterday which improved the appearance of the place markedly.  I had a horrible experience getting the gas for the lawnmower earlier this week but I’m not going to complain about it as I have calmed down somewhat.  Life is full of sad realizations.  Including the sad realization that whoever owns the place across the alley has now spent thousands of dollars on renovations to that house, only to once again rent it to what appears to be the same ilk of person who trashed the place the last time.  IE smokers with big dogs and a relaxed attitude toward garbage in the yard.

Can’t get hold of Katie, she keeps leaving her phone at home.

I should really get back to backing stuff up before my 5 year old hard drive quits.  Jeff has been quite diligent about reminding me and I’ve been a slug.

Jeff came up with a really interesting mapping idea this morning.  I will be messaging Coz Gerald to find out just how hard it would be to for cartographic newbies.

Google and Jeff’s cellular provider have finally fixed their handshaking problems regarding the calendar in Google.  This was a real issue as the push notifications to the phone were broken for like a month, and it’s hard to run a business when your appointments keep disappearing.  The two of us are considering getting new phones, but I’m kind of inclined to keep the Blackberry until the keyboard softsides up.

Dead Can Dance concert in August, so looking forward to it.

Okay, back to work….

 

Saturday housefilk Lazy Sunday

Sunday wasn’t actually 100% lazy, we put the awning back up in the back deck. They did SUCH A SH*TTY JOB of power washing. Water POURED into the house and soaked some rugs and wrecked some laundry soap. Jeff exposed me to ER, which I never got to watch because Paul and I didn’t have cable for most of the time we lived together.

Saturday, the housefilk was totally amazing; Jeri Lynn and Jeff came up from Seattle and so there was CELLO and BASS and DULCIMER AND 12 STRING and BANJOLA and OCTAVE MANDOLIN and 6 STRING and OCARINA and BODHRAN and we sang played ate drank mint tea, rinse repeat, until almost 11 pm. THANK YOU TOM AND PEGGY FOR HOSTING, my place next Saturday. Cousin Lexi was there and she choked with laughter when we played a Habitrail named Klein.

Today I’m going to have lunch with Dustiny (I am joking with his name) and I’m looking forward to it as I am already planning to order Butter Chicken with extra cilantro.

Today I am baking biscotti and working on some other money making stuff. Also since I’m in the mood, more song notation. (It goes much faster when I am not forcing myself).

Everybody have a lovely day!

The hell I do all day?

I completed two steampunk craft projects today (Distressed Cogs handbag and Steam-Bling Parasol (finally used the peel-and-stick copper foil)), got my repaired shoe back from Fluevog, practiced mandolin, hit Dressew for some sequins and some reflective piping, & had many people on E Hastings try to sell me smokes.  It was 18 months ago today I quit smoking, I fervently hope for the last time. Oh, and I saw the Brian Jonestown Massacre/Dandy Warhol doc(ew-drama), Dig.  Courtenay Taylor makes my widdy heart sing.

Happy 4th of July to my American readers

All three of you!

Kaitlin’s memorial service was yesterday, 300 attended.  Keith said it was all very appropriate.  I am very glad he was there; he made a lot of personal and financial sacrifices to be there and to do the right thing, and was loving and supportive to the folks who needed it.

Today I go collect my repaired kicks, go to Dressew, and wander around downtown in the sunshine getting some exercise which I desperately need.

I can hear Jeff working out downstairs; he’s a lot happier since he started exercising again.

Keith is going to come over before work today, but I’ll probably be gone.

I am going nuts trying to notate the theme for my imaginary TV show (not that one, the other one).  It’s very annoying. I think my problem is that I don’t understand what key to notate it in as my usual cheat for determining it doesn’t seem to be working.

Off I go now…

a little bit of ever’ting

It was a solstice party (1 pagan in attendance, check), a housefilk (whenever two or more of you are gathered together in the name of the typo, amen), a hootenanny (small children running around and massacring harmonicas and tambourines while Tapioca is cooked), a religious/cultural interpersonal therapy session as we sang the hums of our people (Falling Free, Frobisher Bay among others), an impromptu poly gathering (6 people in attendance openly poly, plus lurkers), a-a-a-and a shameless attempt on my part to get everybody to compliment me on my sheer good sense for buying Otto.  Who is a boy, Katie K confirmed it.  She also arrived with a housemate in tow and La Merveilleuse Tillie‘s fraking awesome rosemary infused vodka/vermouth libation, which despite the no drinking rule I tasted cause I had to.  And I ain’t sad to.  I’m glad to.  Still a taste left, if ScaryClown comes over tomorrow I’ll feed him some.  Stayed away from the beer, but Mike left 3 in the fridge, so at least I haz some to offer guests. Day before yesterday I made biscotti, and then shared them out liberally at the party, sending some home with the LET’S SING SONGS ABOUT DEATH (literally her first words when she unpacked the bass) Peggy  and the ever useful and opinionated Tom. Also dispensed biscotti to Mike, who sang The Weight (ah, the piercing harmonies!) and Tomorrow Wendy,  and to Rozo, who spectated with that sleepy and mischievous smile I’ve gotten so fond of.  The glorious and unabridgedly awesome Cindy added that special soupçon of harmonious madness without which no housefilk can be characterized as ‘good’.  Or is housefilk like sex and pizza?  ah, erm.  Anyway, we sang zombie songs (dead people), Frobisher Bay (freezing to death), Tomorrow Wendy (which has lots of death in it), Dead Flowers (roses on your grave), and really really kept the theme of somgs about death on track more or less by accident.  Paul sang Last Page and Cindy sang Runtime Error, Type Mismatch so Lady Miss B was there toooooo. Although regrettably not in person, possibly because I neglected to invite her?  Duh.

I cleaned my house and wrote a song yesterday, and people came over and we laughed and chatted and sang and played.  Success!  My brother has been feeling meh but not enough to crimp fun (he slept in the guest room, but Eddie the wonderkitty kept him company).

Due to overwhelming popular demand (two facebutt friends), I will be setting words to my new song, which is the third I’ve written in the Game of Thrones universe.  My Needle and I, and Funeral March of Lord Tywin (instrumental) were the first two.  This one is called The Maid of Tarth.  Oh Otto, you are demanding instrument, but I will rise to the challenge.  And now I realize that it’s 4 GoT songs, I forgot about Sam the Slayer.  When I get into a Universe I seriously fracking commit.

Now…. how do I keep my house clean enough so I actually throw housefilks more than twice a year? I mean apart from a chartreuse flamethrower and a tank of oxygen….

Sunday sundae

Taught myself a dodge for the Em chord so I can now play Uplift, which blew Paul away when I played it for him.  Also taught myself (not that it was hard) the Sublime version of By the Rivers of Babylon.  In the morning, going to pick up Carol for church (her family no longer has access to a car), being publicly humiliated in church and shrugging it off, breaking down in tears lighting a candle for Voyager which is currently on the edge of the heliopause.  Then the new minister’s sermon, which totally included the kids in a useful and intelligent way (wow, for that!!) Then the father’s day picnic, which took place indoors and I’m just as happy about that because I brought no chairs.  Then I remembered to grab something so it isn’t left in the church over the summer.  Then Paul volunteered to drive Carol home and Kathleen volunteered to close (Sue opened) and THAT’S IT FOR THE SUMMER.  Woot.  Then made some food and allowed Paul to bbq some salmon, which was just about perfect, and then met Katie’s beau. I had seen a pic but in person he is strikingly handsome (also unstupid, manners, you know the little things – and brave like hell for facing down our collection of wackos all in one go).  Enough said about all that; let’s just say that he proved to be very food positive and has a large capacity to eat salmon. Then called D. to ask about commercial kitchens – I’ll be setting up a meet with somebody this week.

Now to boring matters like my to do list.  Vacation’s over…..

Back in school

Man, school is so much easier to take when you’re only doing it one day at a time.

Anyway, today was a seminar on starting your own business.  The level of detail and the pace of delivery were such that I only fell into the grip of boredom (and it was fuelled by lunch of course) the once in the midafternoon.  The rest of the time I played class clown in that highly irritating and ludicrous manner which irks Jeff on the occasions I uncork it around him. My idea of a good time is heckling Brian Eno and Cory Doctorow, although I’ve never gotten to do both in one day.  Anyway it was a great seminar and my brain is boiling like Nyiragongo’s lava pit.

Today is the day I should have mowed the lawn.

My mobility has rather surprisingly gone back to being really bad.  My knees hurt. Walking around downtown hurt.

Two of the people attending the seminar were people I knew.  One of them I hadn’t seen in 10 years; she had not gained a pound despite having childer and had not visibly aged.  Seriously.  I was charmed for her but had to resort to the time honored escape of itemizing to myself the one aspect of my appearance which was marginally better than hers by the standards of this cruel nasty culture.  I like to think I’m superior to other people, but all I am is more skilled.

My to do list just expanded by an unknown number of items.  As soon as I hit the little teal Publish button, I’m off to add the items/projects on the list.  And then, into the arms of George Illes, the rattiest of ratbastards, the meanest kind man or the kindest mean man who ever lived, and who is not alive, and who is not a man.

One thing and another

I didn’t get as much done yesterday as I wanted to.  I did hear a piece of news that is still percolating through my system and making me very twitchy and uncomfortable, but it’s not something you go blabbing about if you want to stay friends.

I finally have a decent kitchen compost bucket; I’ve had my eye on it for a while and finally got over to Lee Valley (also bought Katie a decent kitchen knife, since as seems to be habitual in our family she didn’t have a decent one).   I also have a three instrument stand, which is good because I’ll finally be able to SEE all my instruments at once, and I got strings for the Octo.

A great blue heron just flew past my back door.  Due to habitat destruction in the lower mainland they are now nesting all over Burnaby around the lakes.  They used to have a huge rookery in Ladner but the farmer sold the land and all the trees were chopped down.  I’m seeing herons practically every day now.

Batch of biscotti is in the fridge preparatory to the first bake.  I owe Peggy big time so I will show up her place next with treetz.

I had dim sum with Katiekinder yesterday and I’m having something yummy with Sue today, as it’s been an age since I took her out for lunch.  I’m headed down to her place around noon.

After that I’m headed over to Paul’s place for some practicing.  This time we’re drawing up the set list FIRST.  The last session was incredibly frustrating, because the two of us just noodled like idiots.  When Cindy and I were practicing – and I wish that darlin’ woman would return my phone call, except I have a feeling that one of her kids has that phone – we had a set list and we worked the damned thing and even then we weren’t nearly rehearsed enough at the day.

So it’s on my list of things to do.  A Canonical Set List for Paul and Allegra.

I had a dreadful nights’ sleep, but I’m smoothly applying coffee.

I have written out The Wreck of the Margarita.  Also changed the words around.