Category: Retraction

Holiday greetings

In no order:

Merry Xmas to the dude on reddit who asked an uncaring universe if he was a nutbar for not taking the Coquihalla this weekend to make it for a family Christmas. I assured him he was not crazy; nothing’s impossible for the person who doesn’t have to do it. When an atmospheric river meets an arctic outflow, wild shit falls from the skies.

To my brother Jeff I wish the very best the ‘holiday’ allows him – which is hilarious given that he’s a phone call away from having to work at any moment – and a wish that at some point over the next couple of days we settle in for some ‘real’ Christmas telly: Die Hard, a Call the Midwife Christmas special, maybe a Lord of the Rings or Hobbit binge. Maybe even watch the King’s Broadcast, if only to mock him roundly. I disdain that boorish manchild.

Love and social distancing to the fOlks; we’re not seeing you this Christmas. Remember when the kids were little? and we were somehow obliged to drive hither thither and yon in The.Worst.Fucking.Weather that Southern Ontario could shove in our faces at the end of its tobacco-stained arm? Those days have passed. We can all thank The Grand Joculator for that blessing. Of course I’d rather be there. But the great thing about being a member of this family is that we don’t chivvy each other into social occasions by nagging and guilting the shit out of each other or trivializing each other’s safety; I find this of more comfort than whatever I can derive in a ferry lineup after four cancellations.

To my Ontie Mary and all of her kin of the Niebuhr line, even the ones that are still convinced Jesus in a UFO is comin’ for the righteous, I extend greetings and best wishes for a quiet, joyous and safe Christmas. Cousinly greets to Shauna, John and Katherine.

To the spirit of Jim P, and his surviving family; I hope you have the best Christmas you can. I love you guys and wish I had something other than my own grief to offer as a gift.

To my friend Peggy, whom I haven’t even called in a month because I’m such a bum, Warmest and Brightest wishes of the season. I don’t think I’ll get those biscotti to you before Christmas. I haven’t been busy; I just keep forgetting to buy almonds, and when I looked at the prices at Rave-on yesterday I damned near died of fright.

To the crows and wee birdies; yes I got peanuts and sunflowers; I will put out feed during the worst of the weather event.

To my friend Dave, shifting on his laurels as a soundly published poet, I offer hopes for a spark of cognition which becomes a flame of output. Yeah, right.  You and I have always been at opposite ends of the word spigot….

To my pharmacist YOU ARE THE FUCKING BOMB. Happy holidays! To any pharmacists reading this, thou as well.

To my doctor; thank you for the latest scrip; after many months my blood pressure is now pretty much normal whenever I record it.

To Sue: may the year ahead be filled with family, love, and the work you have chosen with such distinction and success.

To all my former coworkers at the House of X – even if I didn’t like you very much when I was working with you, how I miss you now! It’s a reminder of how familiarity, and time, shifts all things in our feelings. Thinking of you all at midwinter, with particular effect for Mike (of course, special mention), Jerome (seeing him on the 28th weather willing), Stephanie, Sarah, Glenda, Mohammad, Arzina, Jim, Brian, Tom, Ryan, Carlos, Darryl, Ngoc, Patricia and many others whose faces are clear and whose names I cannot now recall.

To my landlady Kim F, who is currently training her replacement and I cannot tell you how sad this makes me since she is literally one of the people I’ve known longest in this town, I’ll probably never see her again after she quits— You were a really good landlady. Sure glad I didn’t have to call you about a plumber. I hope you have a lovely holiday and your daughter brings you nice presents.

To Tammy, whom I’m supposed to visit with on the 26th. O darlin’, I hope your trip to Vancouver (she’s flying in from Hawaii on Saturday) goes smoothly, but I really don’t think it will. Even so, I wish you the best of this season and my earnest hopes for a lovely day of tooling around the lower mainland seeing sights for Boxing Day. That’s what I wish for us. (We were thinking of getting together with the fam but holy cats with the amount of respiratory crud going through that house I can’t see that being a good idea a-tall.)

For Paul, hopes for a better sounding chest; for Keith, well he already got several denominations of my best wishes for a great Christmas (and promptly spent it on groceries, foreign editions please copy); for Katie, grace and peace for 20 minutes in the middle of her bustling household. In the spirit of Christmas I publicly acknowledge that Daxus is back with Katie and we’re all trying to hold grace for someone making an effort. Katie’s happier. I don’t know what else to say. We’re allowed to change our minds.

To Alex and Ryker; a grandmother’s blessing on you. You’re not getting anything else from me, by order of mammabear.

Ah Suzanne! I have enveloped you as a family member and it’s a wonderful thing. I hope you have the peaceful, joyous and family filled Christmas of your fondest wishes. (Note. Suzanne is Dax’s mother. Suzanne knows how to do blended families and I am doing my best to learn from her.) I hope you have all the gluten free treets yer belleh can hold!  Hope three days a week of Rykercare doesn’t prove too much for you.

Fond greetings to Bonnie.

To Leo and Linda and their lively agglomeration of kids and grandkids: merry and joyous best wishes of the season to you all!

To Catherine C, Bob W, Colin H, Jan & Soon and their kinfolk, my Seattle filkfen, Cindy, Jaz, Elias and Kaitlyn (sp), Lois and Bob, kids and grandkids, Ruth and John & their kids, Juliana & household, Al P., Lorna @ IHOP, all the Doordashers who’ve brought food over the last couple of years (and the nameless kind souls who cooked it), to the people processing images from the JWST, Michael Balter & the rest of the gang on twitter, I wish health, strength, and fortune at Christmas and for the year to come.

 

 

 

 

 

many thoughts one result

Jeff is getting me breakfast today.

Yesterday I was not having a good day (mega understatement) and Katie swooped in, baby in tow (Alex was with his pop, who had a workplace injury (he is luckiernshit that he didn’t slice a tendon in his hand and it was his day anyway.) Suzanne came in her own car. Katie researched and located a breakfast/all day joint in Maple Ridge called Big Feast Bistro which serves gluten free. (Suzanne is celiac, which now means all her descendants have to be tested for it too.) She got the maple bacon french toast (gluten free) and Katie got the same thing non gluten free. I got the poached eggs on pulled pork and roasted yam hash (MUCH LOUD PRAISING OF GOD) and Ryker pulled his wonderbaby routine on ANYONE WHO WOULD MAKE EYE CONTACT. We were right next to the bathroom (Jeff knows what I’m like when the caffeine hits, although I was smart and just got tea) and the music wasn’t too loud and it was just wonderful.

THEN we went to Whonnock Beach which is absolutely beautiful and given that it was the Thursday before the LHW you’d think it would be jammed. WELL IT WASN’T. There were MAYBE thirty other families there. Nobody was yelling. It was almost beyond belief in how mellow it is. Babby crawled through sand, used his grandmas (genetically Suzanne isn’t but YOU TRY CONVINCING THEM of that) for furniture, fought his teething pain and sleep with equal facility and was in general our beautiful brown-eyed boy. (who stands two inches taller than babies the same age, he will be MONSTROUS Katie is literally saving money to feed him when he’s a teenager given how he eats now with a terrifying, catholic enthusiasm.) Halfway through an icecream truck with gluten free treats showed up. Shoulda seen Suzanne (her hair is pink right now, and god did she get ROASTED by her brotherinlaw at the property a few weeks back when she was the ONLY one of us getting harassed by wasps) book it to the ice cream truck and come back triumphant with her gluten free mango ice lolly.

KATIE IS THE BEST.

Then I came home, ate the last of the meatball sub Jeff got me day before yesterday, watched a bunch of TV including the latest Shetland, and found out that there’s a prequel series to Mystery Road available and watched the first one of that. It’s beautifully shot.

Still can’t get the alien from ‘Nope’ out of my mind. It’s a shape changer and some of its morphs are crazy beautiful. Also scary af.

I am in a much better mood but when I consider how much work I have to do to get my goods whittled down to a single room in size…. I clench.

Made a snarky remark on a post on Twitter day before yesterday. The s/o of the person I critiqued presented an extremely well reasoned request to kill that remark, so I did. Social media is not making me a better person except perhaps by accident.

Took the RAADS self test – 75 score. Test is at the bottom, here, but read the blurbs first. For autistics by autistics.

 

The ‘many thoughts one result’ = blank stare.

NEED COFFEE

Lists of lists

Yesterday:

Heaps of Stargate Atlantis, but also talking to the outplacementthingy and the HR gal at Schneider as it turns out I had NOT actually signed everything I was s’posed to, booking appointments, paying bills, getting programs to run properly with the new OS, hanging out with Keith and calling my mother.  Cause you cain’t call yer mother enuf.  I did not actually leave the house yesterday.  But I made cookies.  And cooked chicken and zucchini with black bean sauce over yakisoba noodles (Keith provided the sauce and noodles, I believe to nudge me to make something) and we had leftovers so that’s one less thing to disturb me today.

Today:

Gotta get Buzz set up properly and restrung.  Also buy more instrument stands, hopefully one of those threeway bluegrass ones for three different sized instruments.  Also I am tired of my tuner; I am going to get contact tuners because balancing that black box in my lap while trying to keep fretted instruments from sounding like the wailing of the damned is TOO DAMNED MUCH.  See how low my frustration tolerance is these days?  Ha.

The Grass.  This is exactly the kind of weather that makes grass tall, lush, and impossible to cut.  Lots of overcast and rain off and on with the occasional blinding sunshine.  Very, very occasional.  If it dries out the least bit I gotta do it before it attempts to eat east Burnaby.

Checking with Kathleen that we’ve paid the church rent and figuring out how much it is (it changes from month to month) if we haven’t yet for May. Also getting hold of Lady Miss D for an interview about what it’s like to bake / construct hors d’oevres for a living.  I will probably bake biscotti, it’s such a crappy day, heating up the kitchen with nice smells seems like a plan. I already made Granny’s recipe oatmeal cookies mit chocolate chips this morning for Jeff (I can’t eat them because le migraine keeps whacking me.  I’ve had scintillating scotoma every day for a week now… it’s fraking tiresome although late last week I got visuals I’ve never seen before; imagine rainbow coloured fish scales about two inches across at arms length dancing across your ENTIRE visual field – and it disappeared as fast as it came on thank goodness). I’ve also loaded the dishwasher, taken out the trash and played with Margot, who did not actually come in and cuddle this morning, darn. Her eyes are much less disgusting, the allergies must be lightening up somewhat.

Completely dejunking my head, a la Getting things Done.  I have a program (Thinking Rock) that helps with that.  Considering how many balls I’m going to have in the air for the next little while I need to marshall my time intelligently.

Deal with the exercise issue.  I’m completely on board with Lady Miss Banjola’s recent extremely useful and heartfelt rant about weight loss; what I am not on board with is actually stirring my stumps and getting enough exercise to overcome the fact that my weight is stressing my whole body.  IT AIN’T THE MASS IT’S THE MOTION.  Ahem. As in, the lack of it.

Booking the camping trip in the US in August.  Planning a circuit of the Island.  I have a strong urge to drive onto a ferry and go to Haida Gwaii, and precious little to stop me.

Just last week I was saying how I wasn’t going to go to Jericho any more because it’s so far on a school night.  Now I’m thinking I can do it every week for the whole summer!  Woot! So that may be my evening.

And soon the Dandy Warhols.

I have had precisely four beers since I ‘quit drinking’. What I have learned.  Alcohol makes me happy for about five minutes.  Then it irritates my bladder, fogs my thinking, prevents me from driving or leaving the house, screws up my nights’ sleep, makes my stomach hurt and gives me a mild to moderate feeling of wretched blankness the next morning which coffee can usually shake off.  So for the purposes of keeping tracking June 4 is now my official quit drinking date.  Unless it would be rude not to (a wake, toasting the bride and groom) I’m not going to consume alcohol any more.  Nothing bad has happened in its absence except I’m spending a sizable amount less (like, 200 dollars a month, which is not an inconsiderable amount).

 

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

Briefly

Ziva is running on six but hesitating.  Fuel filter?  Spark plugs?  Check engine light comes on within about a two block stretch of 10th Ave and goes off about halfway up Gaglardi hill.

I had a lovely long talk with my mum last night.

Jeff sent me flowers at work, by which one might infer what a joy to be around I’ve been over the last little while.  I don’t care, and my coworkers sure appreciated it, and Jeff is defending his title of World’s Most Awesome Roommate with considerable aplomb.

Tom M at work photoshopped his two tortie cats into Borg costumes.  Unbelievably cute and I’ll post the link to his flickr stream if I can find it.

Betelgeuse ISN’T going to blow up.  Sad face.

I’ve been playing “Mama Got Skills”, my 6 song EP, in the car, and I’m enjoying it past the point that makes sense.  Oh, to have such a very loud sound system!

brief report

Tonight I:

Spoke for the first time to the best prospect from Craigslist. He reads SF (including my litmus novel, Frank Herbert’s the Dosadi Experiment)! He’s a union man! He sings bass! He has long hair and a beard! He made me laugh my ass off! I am meeting him Friday night!

Arranged in my own mind – okay, started spade work with the CUC – to work on a social justice refresher course for my church (welcoming gays, lesbians, transgendered and gender rebellious people of all stripes.)

Spoke to my mother on the phone. Spoke (briefly) to my Kitty Kate on the phone.

Hung with one of my fave exinlaws. Being Swampy.

Sat in a brilliantly sunny patio and watched the world go by while so doing.

Pondered how to put a retraction in my blog about beer. Okay, deep breath, here goes. I like beer. It’s staying.

Wrote a song:

Give me five, give me ten
give me round the bend again
you will know when I blow through your town
Give me five, give me ten
give me round the bend again
As I impart the wisdom I have found

You may stray…. so far away
you may go where only God can follow
But your mind will find a thousand ways to shine
and your heart may ache and never yet be hollow

chorus

You may wait … for an important date
And find that life has gone by in the meantime
But it’s one short breath between your birth and death
so you might as well enjoy yourself between time

Chorus.

I need another voice, (verse!), but I’m quite happy as things stand. It amazes me how much I can do when I am happy.

Unreserved apology

I would like to apologize unreservedly for my error in linking to the article about cell phones hurting bees.  It isn’t true, and I shoulda researched it more carefully… or at least not presented it as something resembling fact.

Honeybees have many problems, tracheal mites, pesticides, etc.  Radiation is actually fairly far down the list of troubles.