Settler words&music in S'ólh Téméxw, (leanpub.com/upsun) living where privilege meets precarity in MST country. she/her/they———– Novels: Midnite Moving Co., Upsun; Sweep Off Those Waves coming soon, Hair Sinister after that. —Restore All Indigenous Lands!
Mary is not fully conscious, still in hospital and has a long recovery in front of her.
1355 words yesterday.
Paul came over and I clipped his toenails and Jeff ‘fixed’ his current phone and needs the passcode for the old one, so I imagine I’ll be running over to his place and getting that info.
I have completely paid off my credit card for Keith’s IKEA bed-desk. The last time I saw him I told him I forgave his debt.
My head is full of thoughts I do not wish to share….
my glorious aunty is in hospital on the Island having fallen and not been found for a number of hours. A head injury (she’s not speaking) and a broken femur are among her injuries. Despite the gravity of the situation, her kids are optimistic for her recovery. Fingers crossed. mOm is keeping us updated. I can’t imagine her worry – Mary despite various lifelong health conditions has always been as spry as anything and how does one not worry about it even when knowing she’s cared for. Her surviving kids are on the case.
1750 words yesterday.
Absolutely must renew meds today I’ve been putting this aside and today’s the day. Think I’ll make coffee now (it’s 2:am) since gosh I’m up.
dang this coffee’s good. Off to the salt mines of laundry errands and writing. Errybody have the best day possible.
later.. coffee on and in, laundry commenced, 1100 words of writing and it’s only 6 am
I was busy sleeping, writing and food shopping.
Writing. My god. Total word count on the project is now 6k plus 55K plus 35K -96K
‘s a novel ALMOST
So with luck Keith will be able to deal with his papa this morning for the appointment.
A teensy bit of writing yesterday but the less said about me hauling boxes to Paul’s and standing over him drinking bowel cleanser all day the better. He was very sweet and compliant… while I was in the room. Spent most of my time there setting up his phone and writing down instructions. Brought him clear broth for foodicles.
Jeff’s going to take me to breakfast so gotta jet.
LATER. OMG THE CHICKEN SOUP AND SCHNITZEL SAMMY he got me for ‘supper for brekky’ at the Foreshore Restaurant was AMAZING. The schnitzel, first class, the soup a warm hug in my tummy.
Just spoke to Paul, he drunk it all ALL THE BOWEL CLEANSER and waits for Keith.
yet l8r….
Just spoke to Paul and Keith separately; Paul informed me that he ‘loaded 14 bowls’ and if you’re thinking hash, right colour, wrong substance… Keith was inbound to Paul and I told Paul to get out front to speed things along. Both of them were very happy for my waving my arms with a baton in my hand. How this shit keeps happening to me …OH YEAH – that’s right I got pregnant twice and decided to keep the kids. LOL.
Jeff says that he jumps when the phone rings. I hardly blame him!
Back to writing, the ending is coming up like a freight train.
Honest to Christ I feel like I’m taking crazy pills. Just called Keith to tell him to call Paul about his doc appt today since he may have double booked himself.
Weather and air quality pretty much same as yesterday.
1100 words today, thank goodness, now I can stop and do something useful for the household.
I got a bracing email from Ruth which set me on the right path.
64 words yesterday, at least I’ve cracked open Part III.
Drove over to Peggy’s to drop off the pie plates and didn’t realize it was Sunday so walked into the middle of the aftermath of a church service at her house. One person greeted me, I dropped the pie plates off and booked it.
Visit with Alex had hiccups – so GGma call for example – but was otherwise very pleasant. Quite hot yesterday, air not great but at least I could walk to Timmy Ho’s with Alex and Jeff. Jeff continues to be a pillar of strength.
I hope everyone has a good day. I’m a sad remnant of myself, or at least that’s how it feels. On Wednesday the sun comes out and the air gets better.
Just for Yuks I Funko Popped myself:
I’m holding a succulent and a very small guitar, if anyone cares.
I’m so angry about the situation with Katie’s housing and how various people failed to help her (I’m thanking Steve and Dax for the AMAZING amount of help) that I made a private post.
I wrote 2000 words yesterday, I don’t imagine I will today. There’s too much shit to do.
and Alex is here. I just had to delete the next two hundred words, so I’m getting the hell out of here before I say something stupid. (Just found out I was worried for nothing, thanks universe) Alex himself is fine.
Paul’s colonoscopy is going to be a clusterfuck, and it’s not how I want to spend two days, monitoring him and his shit output while he glugs 4 litres of laxative.
about my life? no
about the lives of my little carnivale of characters, that would be an affirmative
So I wrote 2000 words, and that’s enough for today. It includes Blossom’s call to the boys, and some really emotionally intense conversations. Like holy shit. Crying like a baby. Now to do something useful.
l8r
Have paid for 4 l of bowel cleanser. The life of an ex is not an ‘appy one.
sent the woards off to mOm I think that’s it for section II
apparently it all blew away and instead of being New Delhi or Guangdong it’s going to be not great but not the end of the world.
Everything fucked up yesterday. I was immobilized.
Doing better today, but there’s lots going on I can’t say.
I’ve got a tactical ukulele
Cause my baby
Got a metal spiiiiiiiiiine
If we get into a brawling dance
You got no chance
I’ll come out fine
This is for the most recently purchased uke Mike gave me, whom I believe I will name Iolana, a traditional Hawai’ian name that means ‘to soar.
I’m thinking of calling the other one Kailana, which means ‘powerful sea’ since with the low G string it has a bassier sound.
Apart from Japanese food ordered in, Jeff being awesome, getting a bunch of stuff to the charity, getting boxes into the house from the car, and the sideways astonishing 1800 words that pOURED out of me this morning on TB, today has been a cluster.
There’s an elephant on my chest.
tomorrow should be worse hiya
We’re going to have the worst air quality in the history of Vancouver the same day my daughter has to move.
I’m coughing up phlegm every 5-7 minutes. No chest pain or any other symptoms, but it’s a gumwad size, all morning so far, like clockwork. No writing will likely happen until the air quality improves.
I need to back up my computer.
Yesterday I hauled more items from Katie’s place. I now need to find locations for it all. This house is already overstuffed. We’re taking on an extra fan and air conditioner. I’m beat up from how much up and down the back stairs and packing I’ve been doing and I get two more days of this. and it’s absolutely nothing compared to what Katie has been doing.
Mike misread the meetup instructions for our meal today as being for yesterday so when I said Jarmo said Friday in his email he didn’t see it… so now it’s not happening. He was just angry as hell at himself and hung up, not wanting to talk to me, and I feel concerned about it. I already bowed out of the Dunnett gathering and as it turns out I was triple booked anyway.
I have to force myself to eat something. Jeff got me a super nice dinner last night, ate all of it.
The coffee this morning seemed extra delicious, don’t know why.
Errybody try to have the best day possible. I’m praying for the firefighters.
Dishes are in the running dishwasher, Paul’s colonoscopy instructions are printed out (or are they still haven’t checked yet), I want to run a load of my own clothes and probably should before Suzanne gets here. I need to empty the car completely so I can refill it again.
I’m due there in an hour, let’s see what I can beaver through before I leave.
So. 2064 words yesterday, 152 so far today, mostly infill. TB is clipping along.
This is a super long post so I’m truncating it.
My parents were not perfect. They never represented themselves as such. They were not mind readers. They never represented themselves as such. They loved each other, and they loved my brother and me, and I felt safe and cared for while I lived at home.
And now, across the Salish Sea, they still care for me. They help me pay my bills and enjoy the life I live so that it can be equitable with my roommate/brO. They continue to think about me and consider my feelings and ask for my opinion and snicker at my jokes and frown helplessly at my continuing weird takes on our family history.
But what motivates my writing sometimes is knowing that I was Loved, and so many are not. So many people have black holes of mental illness and assault convictions and alcoholism swirling around their parents. They have poverty and intergenerational abuse and racism and food insecurity as constant companions. When I write about these things, it’s because my parents gave me a life in which I could mentally afford to think about others, and to see my privilege as a member of a contented family as exactly that, not a sign that god loves me better.
It will be hard, going through what now seems like so much junk that was once a family heirloom, or whatever. Katie’s taking some time off too to pack, Dax has gone into the interior with his uncle.
2500 words off to my readers this morning. 1100 words so far today on TB, I doubt there will be more given how exhausted I’ll be when I get home, and I left it at a very nice break point.
I just called Jordan Peterson a custard hearted bigot on twitter. Betcha I get banned. I LOVE IT.