Oooh, I just had an idea for a tshirt

Believe me, the artwork I’ve made up to go with this makes this even more offensive – and I do it all with line art and print.

When we get to discussing

imaginary friends,

my God’s not a dick.

I thought of another one, but it’s even ruder, and I know mein pOp will thank me for keeping it air.

Another one

Of course I made God in my own image;

we all need a girlfriend with a sense of humour.

Tuesday’s terrific tracks through the intarwebs

The thing about higher chordates is how we can look similar.

Jesus!  Potentially toxic extremophile fungus in the dishwasher?

Playing with our food.

Not finding any food at all.

I keep finding reasons to want to go to Chicago.

I didn’t much like the article, but I enjoyed the illustration of proto writing.

Jesus! That’s a big statue.

There’s a meme on twitter right now, #lessambitiousmovies

I came up with these in less than 25 minutes.

The Good, the Meh and the Ugly.

Tin Shotglass

Ben Hurt

Black Snake Groan

Tipping the Velveteen

12 Irritated Hipsters
The Most-Reposted Story Ever Told

Who’ll stop the Drizzle

St Elmo’s Zippo

Hay Dogs

Attack of the Shrew Men

The Scavenger Hunt for Red October

Weekday of the Dead

The King’s Off-the-cuff Remarks

Adequacy in the Grass

Cherubs in America

The Humming Detective

The Hills have Compound Eyes

The “Just Friends on Facebook” of Eddie Coyle
Concern and Mild Distaste in Reno

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.

Naptor the Somnolent has spoken!

I have totally scanged this from Lady Miss Banjola’s LJ.  PS, Naptor the Somnolent is what she called temporary-like during parasitiwackical incubationess.

But the telecom choices in Canada are basically:

We Hate You Inc.
We Hate You More Than That And Charge Overage Fees For How Much We Don’t Care Ltd.
We Love You! PS We Have Coverage In Two Square Blocks Of Toronto And An Internet Café In Moosejaw Dot Com
We Used To Be Okay But Now We Are A Wholly-Owned Subsidiary Of We Hate You Inc. And Have Adopted A Certain Attitude Of Ennui Towards Customer Service, We Hope You Understand, Although Not With Any Great Enthusiasm Co.

…so Rogers is, and I state this with no small measure of despair, actually the best choice in this area. Blarf.

John gets a parting shot

From his close friend and landpeer, the incomparable Juliana, comes an email I simply must share in its entirety:

Allegra, as an anarchist I thought you would appreciate this.   In 2007, John took to me a movie to celebrate my birthday.  It was at University of Victoria, where he had a film membership.  He carefully parked his scooter on the sidewalk next to the bicycles and we attended a wonderful film about the life of Edith Piaf.  When we came back out, it was to find a parking ticket, & he was NOT amused.  Being John he had no intention to pay the ticket and ignored a number of friendly reminders from the University.

Forward to this morning when “he” received a letter from the University telling him that they had not been chasing him for the past 1.5 years because of a court dispute regarding the right for UBC to issue citations but that he still owed the money and they now wanted it.  Apparently after appeal and counter appeal, UVIC is with it’s rights to cite violators so…. they were back at it.

I phoned, asked for Accounts Receivable and started the conversation with  “Account # blah blah”  …   I explained that John would not be paying the bill because he was dead.  I controlled the urge to tell her he wouldn’t have paid it if he was alive either.  Period of Silence, then a pause for review and she came back on the line to tell me his account had been deleted from the system.

I know John is happy to know he won.  A small victory and I’d much rather pay the $20 and have him back but… he won.

hugs and love

Juliana

Ants

We has ’em.

Thursday, off to Lexi’s to meet up with my cousin Darcy and her charming offspring; Saturday, off to the church Board retreat.  (Yes, knowing that was coming up got me off my ass to get sussed out by the RCMP).

Went and harrassed Tom, one of my all time fave activities, to do something about Ziva’s subwoofer.  Ziva is suddenly getting better gas mileage; the only thing I can think of which would account for such a thing is that I’ve finally burned off all the sludge that was sitting in the bottom of the gas tank, because I’m getting 30 more kilometres out of a tank and believe me I have not changed my lead footed driving style.  Anyway, Ziva’s subwoofer has a crack. Jeff wants me to make the subwoofer removable so he can get his bike in the car (the bike would only fit with bungees last Friday when we met up at Swiss Chalet).

Tom gave me celery.  If I find a good place to grow it I’ll grow it next year.  I am already planning a hosta bed under the dogwood in the back corner.  Right now that part of the yard is just a cluster of bluebells and weeds, mostly nightshade, so something to improve it’s appearance and remove grass would be nice.

The quit-by-pictures girl was a fake.  O well.

I tried contacting the JetBlue attendant’s public defender to offer support but nobody is answering the phone there.

Got to get to work…. don’t want to move, although I’ll be fine when I get there.

Watched a simply marvellous movie called The Straight Story last night.  If you want a clean, sad but uplifting story that is full of kindness to strangers, check it out.  At one point Jeff and I said to each other that Richard Farnsworth’s wattles have more acting talent than Keanu Reeves’ whole body, not that we hate Keanu Reeves or anything, we do like him even if woodpeckers do land on his head.

I wish I’d taken a picture of Miss Margot guarding the rat Eddie killed.

[EDIT by Jeff] Ask and you shall receive:

Margot guarding the rat

The things ya see on Wreck Beach

I’m not at Wreck, Mike is (no surprise there) but what he saw at the beach is tres amusant.  Mike was sure he recognized a guy down there and said, “What band are you with?” and the guy, shure as shit, said, “Headwater”.  So now Mike’s seen one of the band members who’ll be playing at Jeff’s birthday party naked.  Vancouver is a lovely town. And a SMALL town.  Don’t piss anybody off, we all either work together, are related, belong to the same dragon boat team or are taking video of your sorry ass.