1800 dollars poorer, I emerged

I have expensive hobbies, by damn.  I went to pick up Ziva and between all the brakes and calipers being replaced (the rear calipers being more expensive as being entwined with the emergency brake) and three engine mounts (which instantly reduced the engine noise on acceleration to a “healthy roar” as opposed to this weirdass growlyticking which a noob like me could mistake for bearing noise) I had to reach a little deeper into my pocket than the original estimate.

Another unintended side effect was that the engine idle revs finally dropped below 1000, which is where it’s supposed to be.  It had been up over 1200 for a couple of months, probably starting when the first engine mount collapsed.  When the car is running perfectly and brand new, excuse me, idle revs are supposed to be 750, but I’d settle for her revving under 1000, as there’s a little issue of gas consumption.  It will be interesting to see if the mileage gets better as a consequence, but even if it does it won’t likely be too noticeable, maybe 20 k on the tank.

Katie and I watched (or she fitfully snoozed through) the first three eps of The Wire.  I shook her awake for the explanation of chess as if it was the drug game; it’s one of the best pieces of writing in the show, and that’s going some.  It was also interesting to see how each character was introduced, not as if this was a first episode, but as if you’re joining a continuing story and it’s your job to keep up.  Of course I noticed dozens of things I hadn’t the first time around.  Like Deadwood and Saving Grace and Homicide, it repays repeated viewings.

Katie’s off at Dax’s now.  She knows he’s no good for her, and still she goes. (Part of his current attractiveness is that he’s living with a young married couple with a two month old babby).   His latest is to suggest that they go to a casino…. on her money.  Her response was “Put the money in my hand and we’ll talk about it” so I guess not all the sane has rubbed off yet.  Sigh.  Given her parental history (mater and pater) of absorbing troubling amounts of abuse and neglect, she could go like this for years, and we’re coming up on 8 years they’ve been spinning around each other like a couple of eccentric Kuiper Belt objects.

Now that I have a car again (I wasn’t planning for her being gone for two whole days) I have a very very very large running around list.

The temporary crown went on without mishap.  I am getting a blast of cloves into my mouth from it every once in a while, and thinking of Katie K every time I do, because she’s hideously allergic to cloves.  I wonder how that makes dental work for her. Anyway I recommend Dr. Katz.  He does precision work and is very civilized, and what the heck else does one want from a dentist anyway.

quhat a day

Quhat being Scots dialect for What.

The night before I didn’t contact the volunteers.  I was SO anxious and phobic that I literally could not pick up the phone.  (Most of the time I’m not affected by anxiety to that extent but making phone calls is really hard for me, and I’m trying to work out why.)  I realized that I was a wreck and went to bed.  I got up at 4:30 am, picked out and edited the poem I read for the children’s story, printed it, edited the homily a couple of times more for clarity and accuracy and printed it, went through the undifferentiated piles of emails that are the complete mess that is cooperative ministry right now and found to my surprise that I did in fact know who all the volunteers were (amusingly, Paul was supposed to do set up this weekend but he left town… Luc covered him) and they were all sober and reliable people who of course all showed up.  So my list of cooperative ministry (the volunteers who bop about the church and make things happen on Sunday morning, from the extremely amazing Sally (aesthetics) to the extremely amazing Laura (coffee) was actually accurate!

I even put in all the announcements that Rev Katie emailed me, AND put in a different graphic for the front cover AND got the order of service printed all by about 7:30.  Then I packed everything up, had a shower, and realizing I had a WHOLE HOUR before I had to get to church, so I did the sensible thing and made Jeff waffles for brekky.

Saw Margot crawl into the garden plot and flatten herself to the ground to become ‘invisible’ waiting for the juncos to come back through the quinoa.  Sorry kiddo… you ARE NOT invisible.

Went to church under overcast skies – I was the first person there so there’s that great feeling of unlocking all the doors and turning on all the lights

It’s time to play the music

It’s time to light the lights

It’s time to meet the Muppets on the Muppet Show tonight.

That kind of feeling, and then getting out the mats for the kids to sit on and helping set up the table for the altar and hauling out the podium and consulting with various folks, and watching as Sandy hauled out the enormous cart Tom made for the sound system. (Brief aside – we have hard of hearing folks in the congregation so we have a bunch of wireless headsets for amplification and all that stuff is in the cart, along with the board and the cabling etc etc.)  Then the greeter’s table is set up, and then parents come in to set up the kids (the older kids were off at a Catholic mass).  And just greeting people…. and then Tom and Peggy and Marnie show up, and music starts happening (12 string, stand up bass and piano).  Getting asked, once again, why it is I don’t consider ministry…. what am I supposed to say?  God told me not to?  I do not have a vocation, peeps!  When you get the call it’s unmistakable.  The only time I get a call that’s unmistakable it always ends badly, with me yelling “You freaking telemarketers, how did you get this number?!”  I’ll tell you why I’m not a minister…. because I read the behavioural standards that I would be expected to adhere to, like not sleeping with parishioners and ceasing to be nude in public on occasion and being somewhat less vivid and colloquial and vehement in my speech.  And don’t get me started on the drugs and alcohol stuff, it’s just unconscionable.  I’m also, not to put too fine a point on it, making the same amount of money as our current minister, who is 13 years out of school.  Ayuh.

Then it all started and it went very well.  I made the aside about being asked about which version of the Bible I was using for the verse and answering “Sheesh, Mom, what difference does it make to an atheist?” which got a huge laugh.  I have a lot of people to email the homily to.

I remember gazing at the congregation during the meditation and seeing Erin shifting her little one around trying to get her to latch, and passing my eye over all the mothers in the congregation and they (and a few of the men, truth be told) were all grinning.  They knew the feeling… after the service I went up to Erin with a mock look of distaste on my face and said, “Baby did NOT get memo about staying quiet during meditation!!!” and all the women clustered ’round her cracked up and chided me, and that’s when I told Erin how many people were smiling with their eyes closed as they heard the baby – I think she was pleased.

Delivering the homily and feeling comfortable enough to wander around the stage instead of staying glued to the podium like I have always done previously, remembering to look up often enough to connect with folks. It was easily the most attentive group evar….

Having all the handouts disappear. Anne in particular liked Carl Sagan’s baloney detection kit; somebody else, can’t remember who, saying that the little List of Cognitive Biases would make for an amazing conversation starter at Thanksgiving dinner.

Bringing strawberry twizzlers for snacks, and helping myself.

Talking, talking, to lots of people afterwards. Giving Carol a lift home in that magical fall sunshine that feels like summer filtered though dreams.

Blowing through the door like a hurricane and frying up the pork and onions for the stuffing, firing up the oven, stuffing the turkey, draping it with four pieces of thick cut bacon, jamming it in the oven, and ignoring it for about four hours. Katie calling to ask me if I’d forgotten anything and then showing up with cranberry sauce and pumpkin pie and whipped cream.  (She called ahead and offered!  I am not a failure as a parent! subtext).  I then hauled the bird out once and basted it and put it back in while Katie and I made veg.  Falling asleep on the upstairs sofa and awakening to see that Mike and Rozo had arrived, which triggered another round of Holy Crap, Must Feed People.

Final dinner arrangement;

Me Jeff Katie Mike Rozo:

Turkey with pork, onion, apple, brown bread, sage and garlic stuffing; hubbard squash drizzled with maple syrup, black pepper, garlic and allspice, boiled carrots, mashed potatoes, dripping gravy, green salad and dun tot (egg tarts from Anna’s Bakery OMG provided by Mike & Rozo) for dessert.

I came upstairs and both of the cats were on the dining room table.  Margot was inspecting the last of the gravy…. Eddie looked hideously guilty and was licking his chops rather inelegantly (his tongue was out an inch) but Katie couldn’t find anything missing.  Eddie’s expression made me howl with laughter.

I then bopped over to Planet Bachelor with Katie in tow (didn’t feel like going over there by myself) fed Kira who was most happy to see us, and then came back, watched some tube with the folks, and then announced around nine-thirty that I’d had a most excellent but also most lengthy day and I was going to have to say my goodnights.  Katie slept over and now I’m going to get up and make her a breakfast that will be awesome.

And that was my very long, very happy making, most excellently wonderful Turkey Day.

Today I plan to drink beer and wash clothes.  There IS nothing else on my to do list that I will do today.  Well, actually, if I want to keep things copacetic with Jeff I should clean the kitchen and run the dishwasher.  It’s pretty thick in there.

Oh, I lie.  After breakfast I have to run to the bank and get some money.  I think I may be buying a guitar today.

Heron Woman does it again. I do nothing for days and then explode into non stop action.  It is my way.

And the web swings wide

I am breakfasting with Paul – oatmeal – and drinking coffee.  I know I’m being a slug so I’m encouraging Paul to get me exercising so we went for a constitutional this morning.  Margot thought about coming along for the first little bit but she’s even lazier than I am.

I have been watching the world, and I am not happy with the signs.  I do not trust the future; I’m uneasy in the present and the past is gnawing at me.  Many different waves are coming at me and I am reminded of Loppe’s comment to Gelis, “Buoyancy, mademoiselle, is always an asset.”

I am hoping my mother will get some mileage out of the Henry Thomas Wake diaries – there’s somebody in England who runs a lovely blog who’s interested in them.

The homily is stalled on the notion that if you can’t connect cognitive bias to a story (without stories how shall the people live?) the homily itself will be lifeless and unmemorable.

The hymns, fortunately, are picked out and off to the accompanist, thank you Marnie!

I borrowed Mike’s 12 string Aria electric, and now I’m in the market for an amp.

Tom is working on my subwoofer for the car.  I may have to buy a new one, and it’s my own fault for letting groceries slosh around in front of the unprotected cone.

Now it’s time to get a real start on the day.  I like this getting up and going for a walk.  I do feel very awake.

Paul fixed up my bike so I could give it to Katie and we haven’t seen hide nor hair of her.  She’s been working almost every day though.

I am having SEVERE “the Wire” deficiency.  I love that show, and we can’t get more of it from Zip until we start returning things.

Jeff and I watched the Departed.  That is also a very good watch. Leo diCaprio was so visceral….

More comments about family and internet and church

I got to see Katie’s apartment yesterday!  We can tell she’s a real New West Girl, she can see the bridge from one window.  She doesn’t think she’ll be cold this winter, but the scarred single pane windows (they haven’t been painted since Tommy Douglas was alive, if appearances are anything to go by) and her remoteness from the furnace lead me to believe otherwise.

Despite the 101 bus going right by her place and despite how close she is to the Skytrain tracks, it’s a quiet house.  She lives there with Mona and a couple of other people in a house sharing arrangement.  Mona’s about my age.  She lives on the ground floor, Katie lives in the attic and some guy lives in the basement.

Daxus is currently living with a married couple who just had their first child – at home.  Katie doesn’t believe this living arrangement is likely to last but I’m sort of hoping it does.

Paul returned safely from Ontario.  He and I and Keith and Jeff supped upon a variety of things including the two cobs of corn I harvested from the garden.  They were tiny but perfect.  Now that I know corn will grow nicely in that location I will plant more next year, and earlier, too.

The quinoa harvest has started; it was either that or let them rot on their stalks.  The first batch is hulled, but by god they are still very bitter with the saponin layer, and most of the grains are much smaller than the commercial variety.  I will have to clean them some more.  I have to find a more efficient way to clean them.

I was invited to Tanya’s and to Baumfest this weekend and as I was feeling quite low I didn’t go.

Church was excellent.  The minister preached of one of the theologians of Unitarian Universalism, Hosea Ballou.

Chipper sends me this disheartening news from the internet front.  Disgusting.

Ziva is running quite rough – she hates the wet.

I have a sound tech for the Social Justice Open Mic.

Sundry and various

Church was good; I like the water ingathering service because people do the “How I spent my summer vacation” by using the physical and metaphorical linking of water.  The Tea Lights (my secret name for a harp/recorder/cello trio composed of church members) were fabulous, as always.

I was opening and closing, too; I had to be there for 8:45 and didn’t get out until 1:30, and I forgot the flipping signs so I had to drive all the way back and get them.  I was going to put them back in the building and realized that they need to have the times amended so I am going to get little laminated bits to cover the inaccurate times this week… and THEN put them away.

Paul and Keith came over and Paul and I attempted to put 25 years of being incapable of sharing a kitchen behind us.  The chicken stir fry came out pretty good. Then Katie turned up and we watched True Blood’s season 3 finale, all together for once, and I have to say A-Skars (Eric Northman) got all the good lines.  Then Keith, who has his driver’s licence (did I mention that he finally broke down and got a driver’s licence previously? Guess not!) drove his sister home.  Aw.

Now I’m going to fold laundry and have a shower and really get at my day.

Round up of events

Up at 4:30 yesterday, fed myself and Jeff breakfast (bacon scrambled eggs), then fighting with two different printers to get the order of service printed out. Got to church around 9:30, discovered we had a plethora of sound people (after my initial fears) but my karma must have just been to the spot remover, because there wasn’t a single feedback squeal all morning.  I hug them all, those sound sound people.

Lots of people out to church and we had a lovely service talking about how it is normal to be afraid of change, and we have had had a lot (as in far too much for this cowgirl), and we’ll be okay, but we have to stick together and be nice to each other.  I know, a hopelessly Pollyanna-ish take on events, but accurate, and my goodness people were thankful to have everything brought up to date.  We did our absolute best to neither minimize nor dramatize the financial and volunteer crises facing our church.  The minister was in the congregation, which provided some reassurance that the board is coping with this crisis as a unit, which never hurts.

It will be okay.

Then I took Sue to lunch at the Amelia, then I bought lemons, then I made lemonade, then I took it to Tom and Peggy (with special guest Joe, squee, whom I haven’t seen since he made his wife so spectacularly rotund) and I watched them pour concrete and then beat a hasty retreat.  Then I came back to my place and apart from a half hearted attempt to throw food into the microwave for Jeff, Katie, Keith and Paul (had them all over, heart full of happy) I didn’t do another thing for the rest of the day, oh, except take the awning down with Paul’s help.  It was full of insect eggs, so just as well.  Either moth or katydid, I’d have to look it up. I looked at the wind and sky and determined it was time to get the awning down before the weather got wetter or windier.

Now, for nautilus3, a flickrset of Birds of BC. I only know about this because Paul found a dead bird and took pictures, and be darned if I can identify it.  I may need to call on experts.

Eddie let me cut all his nails and he hardly struggled or wailed, and he made no attempt to bite or scratch.  The same cannot be said of Margot, who popped her claws into me the last time I trimmed her.  I guess Eddie is finally getting over his antipathy to me.  If, and only if, I’m sitting on the downstairs couch and Jeff’s sitting there too, Eddie will let me scritch him.  Sometimes.

Grr-thwack

Zombie walk this aft.  Katie K and I will meetup at the Art Gallery and drag our shambling carcasses down the parade route.  I can haz corn syrup and food colouring, and clothes to sacrifice. Oh yes, there will be pix.

Church meeting earlier this afternoon.  I’m an invited guest rather than a regularly scheduled attendee; I suspect I am the Katelijne Adorne of my crowd, and happy I am that there is precisely one reader of this blog who will get the reference.

Leo is whomping up Finnish pancakes in the kitchen.  Lawsy me, and there’s BACOM tooooo. Linda indulged me by watching the most recent Futurama episode with us last night, of which much internet woo, and I have to say “The Prisoner of Benda” is one of the best episodes ever and it’s FULL OF MATH.

Tomorrow, hymn sing at Tom and Peggy’s (ever so much more fun than it sounds, my irreligious pals).  I’m thinking about going into work and doing some documentation, but I bet I turn lazy and stay home and watch depressing movies instead.  Leo and Linda will head out sometime Sunday.

It is my sad duty to report that Katie and Daxus are dating again.  Hence the title of the post. I am keeping my mouth shut (apart from giving Suzanne and my mother a heads’ up, and Paul and I had a brief and eyerolling confab yesterday) and hoping that a cooler head prevails.  It’s too bad that her staying away from him was a condition of tenancy.  As of the end of this month she’s homeless – you read me? – and only Paul is prepared to take her in, as Jeff and I -after a brief and dispassionate strategy session – do not wish to borrow more grief than is already our portion.

Did I say recently how much I love and appreciate Jeff?  He really is Made of Awesome.

The quinoa is as tall as me and four cobs of corn have set on.  I let the peas go to seed.

busy tizzy

1.  Paul and kids over to watch latest True Blood.  Since I knew they were coming I went to Choices and got delicious om-nom-noms for them, like fresh bread and Dijon turkey and Avalon chocolate milk, which still comes in a glass bottle and is the best commercial chocolate milk in the known universe.  Even Paul had some and he stopped drinking cow’s milk years ago.  Damn, it’s fine!  Also edamame salad and fresh veg.

2.  Leo and Linda coming tonight…. can’t wait for them to meet kitties.

3.  Jeff biked to and from work yesterday… go Jeff. The last three 3 k involve about three hundred feet of elevation, so he was rather warm by the time he got back.  I took one look at him and asked him if he wanted some water.

4.  At church meeting last night (Nominating committee, my house) we had fun and got shiz done.  I was so happy to see everybody.  Now I have more work to do, even though an item came off my list!

5.  I’ll be doing a bed and breakfast thing in Bellingham in September but I don’t know which weekend.  I’ll be taking Katie for some CBS.  (Cross border shopping).  Clothing for women my size is more easily obtained Stateside.

6.  I’m helping train somebody at work, and as a consequence my house-fly strength attention span is even MORE truncated.  I’d like to thank her family for raising somebody so smart.  And she takes kick boxing classes, too.

7.  Keith was too – I don’t know – to check flickr for pictures of Animé Evolution, and when he said he didn’t know where pictures would be, I said, “You’re daft, check the flickrstream.”  Gosh all whacky, am I the only person in the world who knows how to use the internet, grump grump.  And there he was, in his costume.  Now I go looking for it and I can’t find it, but suffice it to say Keith made a GREAT Dr. McNinja. Grandparents are warmly encouraged to apply to him directly for photographs.

8.  Dropped by her workplace to see Lady Miss Banjola and inspect her tummy.  Yup, she’s knocked up.  She’s also artistically pale but I think she looks great.

9.  The spicy Thai beef salad yesterday was unbelievably yummy, but the transit time of 8 hours was accompanied by the burnination of a lifetime.  I can no longer eat hot peppers, unless I want multiple lashings of discomfort and abrupt departures from whatever conversation I’m engaged in at the time to flee for the house of ease.  It was worth it, but only just.  Ky can cook.

There’s more but I gotta go.

An anniversary of sorts

Twenty-nine years ago today I left my then legal husband, Phil, and moved in with Paul on Springhurst Avenue in Toronto.  It was during the CNE, and with the casual rain of coincidence that marks every part of my life, there were fireworks every night; we’d sit on the third floor balcony overlooking Lake Ontario and watch them.

Three years ago this past spring I moved out.  Our friendship is now more solid – and more civil – than it ever was.  But we had to go through a lot of dross burning off first.

Is Margot in the well, Eddie?

Eddie was screeching up a storm last night.  Jeff realized that something was amiss and got up.  He started following Eddie around, and Eddie went straight out the back door and to the garage, where Margot had been locked since Jeff had worked on his bike.  Eddie got many scritchings and “Good boy”.  (I locked Margot in my room all day last week, so you’d think she’d learn about doors…..)

Sorry, Eddie, we’re on to you.  You just PRETEND to hate Margot; like the rest of us, you haz succumded.

Safe congregation policy

As part of our safe congregation policy, everybody in a voluntary or paid position with my church has to be inspected for felonious behaviour by the RCMP.  I had been putting it off (and why not, yecch) but this morning I assembled the letter which allows me to be inspected at no charge, my i.d. and my amour-propre and hied myself off to the Deer Lake RCMP Detachment.

It took 10 minutes.  I was the only person there.  Honestly, I thought it was going to be quite a production, but it was trivial.

Next, I hied myself off to Village de Valeurs, where I purchased a dress, a blouse, and something to replace my bathroom which does not actually have enough fabric to be a modest garment, given my current girth.  I am sure Jeff will be relieve to see less of me as I stagger out of my room in the morning in my zombie like quest for caffeine.

I’m back home and waiting for my new purchases to get out of the washer.

It’s pouring rain; the garden is very happy.

My family can never be too big.

That’s what Gramma Zooss always used to say.  Here’s a couple of Brazilian men who really live it.

The Vikings had a saying.  Better a good foster son than a bad son.

It’s really difficult to describe just how amazing Jeff’s birthday bash was, but it had the following going for it:

1.  The weather which was nothing short of spectacular.

2. The awning – what a lifesaver that turned out to be.

3. HEADWATER.  A simply stunning performance by three extremely talented and loveable young men.  I mean it, to have the pleasure of these guys as working guests was great.  We bought their albums, we laughed our asses off at their between song patter, we listened in rapt silence to their originals and their covers, we loved every minute of it.

4. Wonderful friends and fabulous conversation.

5.  Rob and Kathy showed up with their two kids (6 and 3) and I had to yell at them like an ogress to get them off my neighbours’ lawn, but they forgave me.  Little girl and I danced and drew pictures and played with the thunder tube.

6. Walking into the games room and finding Jeff pogoing to the Dandy Warhols with a small child. My personal high point of the festivities.

7. Jeff excusing me from kitchen duty so I just got a bunch of pre prepped food, which worked out fine.

8. A cooler full of brewskis.

9.  Did I mention Headwater?

10.  Just about everybody who confirmed attendance came, and all the important people – the kids and Paul, Mike and Rozo, Tom and Peggy, Kevin and Rebecca, and Rob and his family, came, and they enjoyed themselves muchly as well.

I crashed out early – I started drinking at noon and between that and the sun I made it to about seven pm before I faded.  Now I have to go have a substantial breakfast and get myself to the staging area for the Pride Parade, as I’m marching with the BCCLA today.  Thank the water cycle it’s overcast, I don’t think I could stand to get fried again.