I can see the bridge

I can finally see the Sto:lo bridge from my back window again…. it’s been the best part of a week. AQI is 24, about as good as urban air gets in these parlous times.

Two loads of laundry plus the dishes yesterday, plus restringing Smokey. We’re still cursing an intermittent blue streak about the intermittent leaking of the dishwasher but no solid ideas.

Buster trained hard this morning, three paw claps and a couple of bounce and chase, and really focussed. Between having his fleas dealt with and the better air he’s def got more of a tigger-sproing in his step.

Le Mans has started and Jeff’s well-ensconced.

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Muppet Bison

nothing yesterday

Well, not much. Walk in Lougheed Mall and picked up some veg with Paul. I was feeling so exhausted but there was chicken to cook in the fridge so I made asparagus and mini potatoes and corn and breaded chicken breasts for an early supper and then pretty much collapsed after that. I did a little tidying but the air is so oppressive I felt like crap.

AQI currently 139, went up and down all night.

Currently putting together a list of the birds seen and heard in Deer Lake Park. I think it’s marvellous that when I went to the list there was no American Coot! But American Coots come to Deer Lake all the freaking time, so immediately I was one up on the list.

The list is the names of the birds and their habitats and songs, since Paul and I are tired of always hearing the birds and never seeing them. I already know that we’ve repeatedly heard both ospreys and merlins, which blows me away. Their chittering calls are very distinctive. Getting the info here.

Insomnia. Woke at 10:30, up til 3, back down again and up at 8.

Le Mans weekend.

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Visibility less than a kilometre

stench outside insupportable, and we got days more of this. For the people in Portland and western Oregon the air quality is up to three times WORSE, so feel something for those poor suffering bastards. At least Ned is safe while 12 percent of the population of the state is on the move.

King County R number is .6, best it’s been since the pandemic started. It’s flying way over one in Ontario, so stay tuned for more Fordfuckery.

Only seven squash left.

Tuesday we’re having a family supper at Planet Bachelor for Paul’s 71st bday. Everyone likes sushi, so that’s what we’re going with.

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Apparently I’m going to host Alex the long haired Minecraft grandson today.

Yesterday was a good day, I hope today is too.

still keep flashing on Sue and our convo the other day, talking about how the day will come when we’ll end ourselves so as not to make work for our loved ones

french toast and bacon

Not exactly on the high blood pressure and kidney problems diet, but I will only have two pieces of bacon. In a few minutes we’ll take off for the store; Jeff will stay in the car and I’ll go do the shop, as per their current instructions – they only want one person per household…

Latest bp 157/87, not too bad. Nice walk back from the pharmacy yesterday – it was literally the only part of the day that wasn’t too smokey to be outside.

Two dozen deaths, minimum, from the wildfires, and it will be closer to a couple hundred by the time it’s all over.

I got 11/15 daily routine items taken care of yesterday, so even if I feel like I didn’t do much besides laze around and harvest squash (put them in a carryall LOL to carry them, otherwise you’re negotiating with a dozen verdant cannonballs) I did actually DO THINGS yesterday

et the littlest one last night as a bedtime snack, seeds and all, damn it was good

LATER ABOUT THE SQUASH two more of them found homes

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The weeping and wailing about Supernatural ending continueth on twitter.

 

what am I doing for Indigenous people

This is in response to a rather plaintive tweet.

 

I acknowledge their relationship to their lands, whether peculiar to them or shared by treaty with their neighbours. I acknowledge this is a relationship I can’t share and should never try to profit from, or try to harm in any way.

I acknowledge and celebrate their cultural contributions to the global store house of ideas, practices and technologies.

I acknowledge their right to their artifacts, the bodies of their dead wherever tomb raiders have stolen them away to, and their traditional folkways, even if I object to some because I’m squeamish or elitist.

I acknowledge and celebrate their right to remove artifacts from where they are not being cared for properly to the care of their own people.

I pay them for their work, their art, their beading, their poetry, their books. I wear their art.

I know whose lands I live in and upon (Qayqayt, Musqueam, Squamish, Tsawwassen, Semiahmoo, Stó:lō – among others), and want to know more each year I live here. I read about it, but mostly I listen on social media to what the locals say about their land, when they walk around on it, when they catch salmon upon it, when they hunt and harvest on it, when they just live their lives and re-watch their favourite shows and worry about their children. The word ownership does not describe and can’t describe how they are about their land; stewardship makes it sound like there’s a bigger boss you need to turn the reins over to, if he ever shows up, and it’s always a guy; custody makes it sound like you can put a fence around it or secure it somehow; all these concepts endeavour to make land into parcels and people into atomized parcels of factions, forever at war with their neighbours, instead of sharing an immense bounty of ocean, river, land and sky. Anyway, English doesn’t have a word for it and can’t; it’s a failing and not a useful one.

I support language revitalization in word and deed.

I spit on blood quantum. Only their modern requirements for membership in their particular nation, informed by tradition and agreed upon within the nation, are any basis for being members of any Indigenous band, tribal or national group. Judicial measures regarding membership imposed by settlers are some bullshit, and should be dropped into the sun with a bow tied ’round them.

I support charities which bring culturally appropriate Indigenous teachings about sexuality, gender and consent to Indigenous youth.

I SUPPORT THE ENTIRE DISMANTLING OF THE INDIAN ACT.

I would abolish the RCMP and put a stop to the (estimated) three billion dollars those fuckers check out of the government purse every year to have carte blanche to kill, rape, and beat Indigenous people IN A HEARTBEAT.  We could promise the best education in the world to every Indigenous student in Canada (and the settler kids too sure) with that money, and the dent it would make in structural inequality couldn’t be measured.

I support abolition of the police and the end of incarceration except where a legitimate safety hazard (harm to self, harm to others, absence of self-care endangering life) exists and even then I dunno.

I do not idolize one particular nation over another. I am partial to certain aspects of Cree, Inuit, Mohawk, Haida, Blackfoot and Plateau artwork and traditions, but I don’t smudge my house or have a dream catcher or disrespect anyone’s regalia by touching or coveting it or stealing the design or mocking it or wearing it as a cheeseball Halloween costume.

I do not believe that if their lands were restored the first thing the Indigenous would do is kick me off. The cops, the bankers, the real estate agents, maybe, but as long as I upheld their rules, I doubt I’d be kicked off, and I’d go quietly if I was.

I follow Indigenous progress and revitalization in Canada, the US, Mexico, New Zealand, Australia and to a lesser extent Asia, Central and South America, and Africa.

That’s all I can think of for now. It isn’t much, but I’m tired of thinking I’m not doing enough so I thought I’d make a list.

 

 

wringing sweat

Work’t in my garden. f’in hot out there. This involved sweeping up lawn clippings so you can actually see the walkways and driveway, watering the squash, (I could hear them slurping, it’s been ages and I think there may be a single lone pumpkin in the pile) and walking the boundaries to pick up the inevitable logo’ed paper and plastic trash that’s blown in. I also carted the cactus soil and the deck salt out to the locking side of the carport so they aren’t posing a tripping hazard by the back door any more..

Now to collect the clean mats from the dryer, except that I have to sweep the kitchen floor and mop it first, which I am now by the power of mental effort going to try to silently encourage Jeff to do.

later: Jeff did sweep but I hadn’t yet cleaned out the hellhole under the kitchen table, and now you can see all of the floor and it’s all clean, hallelujah. There’s a tiny bit of paper cruft to sort, but I could probably throw it all out and not lose anything. Also: cleaned the extraneous paper cruft from the side of the fridge.

and i am STILL WRINGIN’ SWEAT YEAH

Finally got hold of the doctor and gave her a piece of my mind, but of course it makes no difference. Managed to winkle out a prescription renewal. Why do we need gp’s again, blech.

I’ve already practiced three instruments and done my shoulder exercises this morning. I’ve even written a little. 13,301

u/Zinan took this flying out of YVR this am, check the haze effect on the mountains

ermagerd, somebody I really like on twitter retweeted something nasty I said about Trump and Nate Silver so I am ha ha’ing to myself.

The McDonald’s closest to my house has a worker sick with Covid.

fucking ronald damn his eyes

now it’s time to unionize

Jeff and I never go there, it’s the second worst Ratlands between the Port Mann Bridge and Main Station. (The worst one is right on Main. WHAT A ZOO)

I KNOW that none of you care, but today’s the last day on set for Supernatural after 15 seasons, and the people who guest star are openly weeping about it, and it’s a Thursday, and Castiel is the angel of Thursday, and now it’s over.

trying….

Something for the parents

fic 13,205 FINALLY managed to get through the scene at work. I think it will play most amusingly. Just imagine a guy getting his face teased off by two co-workers, that shouldn’t be too hard.

Trying something different with respect to a daily routine. Even half-assing it yesterday I was more productive that I normally am and scheduled a whole bunch of much needed self-care. All in all I am very pleased.

Made a small luncheon salad – chopped cooked chicken breast, lettuce, onion and olive.

Buster trained well yesterday.

Wanted to go walking with Paul today, but it will be a mall walk, if anything; the heat and the particulates make walking outside a mug’s game. So I emailed him and expect to hear from him midmorning.

I backed up my hard drive this week; Jeff thinks I should be scheduling it more like once a month than three times a year, and he’s right.

Spoke to Peggy on the phone yesterday. She was putting up pears and applesauce when I called; how very Peggy. We had a delightful chat although she definitely is not enjoying this phase of the pandemic, having school aged and toddler grandchildren.

Drone footage of San Francisco, with all the orange wildfires, is…. jeez am I wearing out ‘apocalyptic’ yet?

There aren’t enough public washrooms in Burnaby.

I’m out of bocconcini pearls and it’s making me crabby. SALT FREE CHEESE! ya-harri-hoy!!

They’ve torn down the last of the sets for Supernatural and Baby rides for the last time today.  Sigh. End of the show is coming.

Just told someone on AO3 not to give drunk people ibuprofen even in fanfic. I M BITCH, HEAR ME HOWL

fires

Yesterday, here in Vancouver, the fires in Western Washington blanketed the entire city in ~~200 AQI smoke, strong enough to clog our noses and make us sneeze. Within eight hours it was all gone, but it was ugly for a while. Further south, the tales of horror continue; a woman taking her father’s chef knives but leaving the Singer treadle machine that is her last physical tie with the grandmother who gave it to her; trails of ash twining along the road in the wind; apocalyptic skies, lightning storms that hail ash; and death, death, death to the animals and pets and forests.

Temperatures in the American southern border states have been crushingly high for most of this week so far. I’m picturing that within ten years it will be too hot to live without air conditioning there for a couple of months of the year and so the second great northern migration will occur. Lots of changes coming!

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fic 12,552 words

people can’t read

added later:

 

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So there’s signage at Deer Lake Park equivalent to ‘walk this way’ and no, not like Aerosmith, but nobody seems able to read it. Paul and I went for a walk, saw frogs, got halibut and chips and fed ourselves and Jeff lunch.

Today I’m hoping to mount a small shopping expedition.

Advice from @Maria_Tureaud on twitter for a pitch session:

To write a Twitter pitch: 1. Who is your MC? 2. What is their normal? 3. But when X happens, MC faces *stakes so dire* 4. And then MC will/might lose Y/Z

  1. George
  2. Hiding
  3. Not hiding… the world practically blows up
  4. and then he might lose his kids

eh, doesn’t really work for me

 

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Glorious day

I got ALEX FOR TWO HOURS

He was as good as gold. He whined at the very last minute when he realized his momma bear was going to leave and he wasn’t going to get Xenon HE LOVES XENON, but we made recordings and watched TV and I made him homemade choco milk and we laughed very very hard.

Because

before we made new recordings we listened to all of the old ones, and Alex made some noises that were excruciatingly funny and the two of us nearly choked laughing.

And we have sourdough bread thanks to Katie so YES.

Weather was lovely yesterday, it’s overcast and cooler now, also good.

I got a couple more surfaces cleared off in the kitchen.

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Wasp nest growing over yardlights.

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SEE YOU IN HELL

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above noted is the noted, feted and howlarious burlesque artiste Carrie Finnell. According to twitter’s @WhoresOfYore, “Carrie Finnell (1900-63) was a legend of burlesque. She had complete control of her pectoral muscles & could bounce her boobs out of her dress & move them independently of one another. She called her act ‘The Chestcapades’ & was once the highest paid burlesque act in America.”

Don’t say this isn’t an educational blog, and she’s only mentioned in Wikipedia as a member of the Mutual Burlesque Association, so don’t bother looking her up.

anticolonial song (four part harmony AT LEAST)

I want to take Lord Stanley down
with a homemade thermal lance
he had his mo’, but he’s got to go
we can’t leave it to chance
Oxy – steel wool – brake line – tubing
Now I’m waiting for the spark
& you will see that statue fall
a mile off in the dark

 

If you go to youtube, the single most dangerous (but cost effective, big thumbs up!) Do It Yourself thermal lance in history is there to be viewed with awe.

 

Inspirational!

Bed back together

I now have a fresh mattress on my bed. As I was putting the weighted blanket back in its cover, I became glad I have two covers thanks to the kids (they gave me an extra cover, I guess they know me or something) because the zipper broke on the winter-weight one. BUT I HAD A SPARE and carried on regardless. I’ll get the other one repaired.

I should call Burnaby pickup.

My west coast Indigenous style masks came. They look like this. and this. I was going to give the hummingbird one to mOm but I think I’m going to keep it, it’s fantastic, and I do love the other ones. And I is greedy. Anyway mOm if you do love the hummingbird one so much you have to have it, just make sure you wash it when I bring it o.O he he

 

I see from social media that cousin Alex is making a skirt for herself today, and as she wryly commented it was a better activity choice than doomscrolling through the news.

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Weather continues unbelievably fine

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scanged from twitter

Some son of a seacook stole my bank card details so TD fraud prevention called me and cancelled it and I went in to the New West branch to get another one. Much standing in line, but they come out and bring the elderly into chairs, so that was okay. Picked up batteries for the D’Addario tuner Mike bought me at London Drugs. Also some thumb drives, the 64 gig ones were cheap like borscht.

Poked my head into the New Westminster Library; there’s this writer called Silvia Moreno-Garcia I follow on twitter (I almost met her in real life but she’s TOO GOOD for spits (dunnett events) so No) and she’s forever going on and on and fucking on about a book she wrote called Mexican Gothic, so I put it on hold at the library. I poked my head into Freshii and got a strawberry banana smoothie – delightful, rather small, and not too sweet – and picked up some plant trays for the seedlings I’m growing indoors and finally moved them to their permanent spot in the only remaining south facing window, the one under the cat tree.

Walked about 1.5 k in total, and now I am home. Stayed masked the whole time, took the bus into New West and wandered around. You are obliged to wear a mask on transit now.

quiet work

I’m continuing to find small areas to clean up and dejunk; got rid of all the kitchen pens that don’t work, always a satisfying activity. Practiced on various instruments; tried to do a small shop but visited the bank instead; hung out with Paul and fed him a toasted ciabatta with chopped cooked asparagus and bacon, jalapeño havarti and sweet onion. He pronounced it tolerably edible and dragged away another piece of bacon like a damned dog to eat separately.

Fic’s up to 9500 words. I’m going to dab every trope on that damned bingo card, see if I don’t.

Finally got hold of the doc, now I have to check the req is there.