rolls around again

the year is nearly at a close- and my only resolution was to write more.
oops.

Tonight I remembered a conversation with an old friend- watching "10 things I hate about you" on the bed in my dorm room.

"that's a move you need to learn"

I still haven't.



Maybe that'll be this year's resolution.

speedy

I'm going to have to build a half door to the back room.
Pontouff Pony moved in a week ago, and while I trust the dog not to eat him... I don't trust her not to eat his food, or whatever might be in the litter box.

"Try a baby gate" you say?

20lbs of bunny can still fling himself over the gate.





last bunny post for a bit... honest.

oh right.

due to an infatuation with my tumblr... I'm taking a blog break... otherwise I'm not going to accomplish anything ever again....


damn you interwebs.

Blue Boxing

We've got this really really great second hand store in town. In fact, a whole street made up of second hand stores.

There's nothing better than a sunny morning with friends, cruising "the sales" after brunch.

weekday wake ups

Each morning the tone for the day can be set with the most subtle of cues. If I greet the tall one first- before he greets me, it generally doesn't end well.
If I'm patient and don't even look at him till he says something to me, I know the day will be ok.

This morning in the group home I walked passed him and I was greeted with a "good morning Knucklehead". This is nearly as loving as it gets from him. Some times I get "hot sausage" or "vanity fair" (don't ask) on a good day... more often than not I'm showered with swearing.

This morning I turned to him and asked "how do I get rid of my title of Knucklehead?"

Without missing a beat he responded "stop working here".

yup.

steamed

I missed my hot tub while I was away... I know, I know, there was one at the condo- but it wasn't mine. it was filled with the DNA of strangers. And.. it was hot. too hot. way too hot.

So, I've been in mine every day since I got home- today I shocked the heck out of it, it had been running low on the chemicals, and though I hate chemicals... it needed to be done, or it was going to be in the "gross DNA" range.

I forgot I shocked it until I had the cover off- but, standing with one foot hovering over the tub with little on in the freezing cold... I jumped in anyway.

I don't think I have fingerprints any more.

monday bunday

while my own lagomorphs were terrorizing TLS in my absence, I found this little critter on the beach.

hold please

Parsleyseasonings will return after this vacation.....
thank you.

Found poetry

I get lost in the moments of movies from my childhood.
Honey, I wish you'd shrunk me. too.
Wandering the giant forests of my backyard lawn
a feathery parasol shading me
a gift from the dandelion
I forgot to weed.
and my rabbit unshrunk, would offer me a ride
and I'd fall asleep in that small between his shoulder blades
where his hair is like silk
content





I was cleaning out a dresser yesterday and found this...
At first I thought it was a leftover from a "Sunday Supper" experiment, then I remembered it was from a poetry workshop/show with Tanya last spring.fall?


Rumours of funtimes and house concerts are floating... can I hear an Amen?

not so lost

Keys have been found.

They managed to find a home in my wool stash... good thing I was digging in the wool today!

I just loved the way snow has been clinging to the bricks at the back of the house- the far side has sprouted a mane of icicles too...

almonds - clowns

person 1 enters the room. On the floor, a table on it's side Two shoes are hanging from it by their heels. Nearby, there is a single glove, three clothes pegs and a container of almonds laying in a row on the floor. Ideas of entertainment float into focus.

Person 1 is encouraged instead to be in the space. Not to judge the items before they've been encountered. P1 is annoyed, the idea of turned up noses to old shoes is funny! A script is being formed- but P1 allows the idea to be discarded and walks to the objects to investigate.

It's painful for a few seconds. Just viewing the items. trying not to formulate. Touching them, but not trying to force an idea on the way things "should" unfold. Finally... long moments later... the glove is picked up, and pinned to the wall. P1 stares at it, shrugs, and starts to eat out of the container of almonds. P1 pauses and throws an almond at the glove, it hits the glove and falls to the floor. P1 allows a small smile to escape, and placing the container of almonds on the floor, begins to play a basketball-like game with the almonds and the glove. Each shot is missed.

P2 enters the room, and watches. Slowly P2 approaches the game. P1 has missed every shot, but doesn't seem frustrated. P2 asks what P1 is playing, and if they can play too.

P1: CATCH! throws the almond
P2: I'll try! catches easily and tosses it back to P1

the almond is thrown back and forth, till P1 takes the almond and pretends to slam dunk it into the glove... P1 goes for the dunk, and with the other hand, opens the glove up wide and places the almond inside.

P1: TOUCHDOWNS!

P2: again!

P1: tosses the almond, catches, and pumps her fists in the air... we're really good. Champions!

We could win a trophy!

p2: how would you look if you won a trophy?

P1: places hands on hips and sticks out their chest, head held high.

How would you look?

P2: strikes a pose. Here, let me try! Pass it to me!

the almond is tossed back and forth, P2 goes for the shot... and misses. The almond falls, P2 falls, and the almond breaks.

P2: I didn't do it. It broke. I never win ANYTHING!

P1: This is really sad. We're not going to get the trophy. I've never really won anything before. I wanted a trophy..... Have.. you ever won anything?

P2: gets up off the floor I don't remember it, but I was told I won "cutest baby"

P1: cutest baby doesn't count.

P2: crestfallen. I don't think I've won anything then.

P1: That's ok. moments pass What if we pretended we won? and it was like the Olympics? and we got up at the podium, and they all clapped for us? It would be like winning? Here, we can step up on to the podium and pretend.. we can sing the national anthem!

P1 steps onto an imaginary podium and begins to bow.

P2: I don't think I can do it....

P1: yes you can, here, I'll hold your hand!

P1 drags P2 onto the podium. P2 has P1 in a death grip.

P2: hisses quietly ... I'm scared!

P1: It's ok, you don't have to be scared. I'm holding your hand.

P2: I don't think I can do it.

P1: want to know something that works for me? Just look out at the people and pretend they're all naked.

P2: looking straight at P1 Ok....

P1 and P2 slowly look away from eachother, look out at the audience, their eyes growing wide.. and start laughing....(after a beat the audience realizes that the laughter really is directed at them.... ) they begin to walk off the stage, P1 offers more advice for bravery as they walk....


**post script**
unfortunately, the txt here will never ever capture the moment.
the pauses, the gestures, the fear and joy on the faces of the clowns... the painful moments of discomfort waiting for things to be reviled. .. honestly discovered on the fly.

after the "cutest baby doesn't count" line, and up till the "pretend they're naked" line, things are a little guesstimated... there was a little too much laughing to keep it all straight.

One of my proudest moments was when the next group and the instructor made a comment about how difficult it would be to follow us. It felt so good after a frustrating morning of trying hard not to allow myself to "script" what I thought would be funny.

icey

I don't drive often.
I last used my car on Saturday night.


And now?
I can't find my keys. I know I had them at work with me on Monday morning and that they were in my coat pocket at least until I finished shoveling the driveway (again).

And... tonight when I did need my car, my car was frozen to the ground.
Yup, that's right- the mild weather on Monday made a puddle of slush around my tires... and the minus 10 to minus 20 celcius of the past two days locked some of my tires to the ground.

Thankfully, I own a shovel,
and I know how to rock my car out of a space... it took me a good 10 minutes, but I got out.
(The neighbourhood smelled like burning for awhile there)

noon

I think... that if it's 12pm EST any weekday and you're reading this post...
that you're on the wrong website.
If it's 12pm EST you SHOULD be here...



Roots Music Canada

watching interwebs history in the making, and (if it's still Wednesday Feb 9th when you're reading this) enjoying the launch of The Woodshed Sessions!

Riveting.

So, until the day my old landlord 'fesses up and produces my missing snowshoes, I'll always have 4 Algonquin style shoe-shaped holes in my heart.

To help to mend this broken heart of mine, sweet Naynay has offered me a pair of his- he was recently gifted three pairs from his inlaws. I offered to purchase a pair, he offered to give a pair to me! How exciting! I pledge to give away a pair if and when my missing pairs make their way home to me.

There's a small catch.

They are bindingless. Having just experienced the joy of well fitting bindings for the first time this winter (on a borrowed pair)- I plan on purchasing new bindings for the newcomers. (side note: I'm going to need to name these snowshoes) I spent so much of my life stepping out of my Sshoes, now that I know how good it feels to be free of that fear (of winding up hip deep one-legged) I'm not going back to jury rigged bindings.

In effort to support the downtown establishments, I went with Bethsheff to both shops that offer snowshoes to see if they had a lead on bindings. The first place was helpful. "No, we don't carry them, but if you purchase them- we'll include them in our next shipment so your shipping costs are lower". This was a kind offer. I did find some bindings online, but the Canadian company that offers them charges more for shipping than the item costs.

The second shop was lovely, but... um.

B: do you sell snowshoe bindings?
S: no, I've never even seen them in the catalogue as an option
M: I've seen them offered online
S: do you have a rivet gun? They are attached with rivets.
M: uh, the ones I was looking at laced on, it was like sewing.
S: They make them with rivets.
M: Hmmmmm.... I guess I'd have to figure something out....
thanks...

(outside)
M: All I can picture is how important the Hudson Bay company must have been with their rivet makers....
B: all those Native peoples, building their deer gut snowshoes, bending and shaping wood for generations, waiting for the white man to bring the rivet gun?

Monday Bunday

This picture is from last year- 'Touff stealing little Fynn's litter box at the old house. I can't remember where I put my card reader to retrieve my photos from this week. I'll find it.
Also missing is that great pirate shirt. I can't remember if I gave it to someone? I think it might fit Jelly, it was a little too small for 'Touff.

broken

Poem 8

In a place called Somewhere
There lived happiness
Somewhere was a place of Paradise
But one day from Nowhere
Came Sorrow to the place called Somewhere
Happiness asked Sorrow to leave
The place called Somewhere
Sorrow went back to Nowhere
And then occupied the hearts of people
Who are kind and compassionate
As they never refused anybody a place to stay
So if you feel the pain
Which a person who has lost his mind bears
If your heart aches when you see a tear in someone's eyes
If you are ready to accept such a person and help him
You can be sure
That you have sheltered sorrow in your heart.

-Rajarshi Mukhopadhyay (Tito)


A few years ago I posted about "The Mind Tree" ... go. find it.

red nose, red faced.

A weekend debrief is in motion... half written. It's a long one, and I've cut a ton...

but, quick recap:: early morning start, clowning adventures, hot water sipping with the Pagepage peeps, dinner at my favourite, (sopa azteca, with a guest appearance of sweet Chief Julio!) with my favourites. more snow than snowmageddon. shoveling. knitting. breakfasting with the rats. knitting. superb owl dinner with the rats (in deference to the super bowl, and a nod to wilw's tweet). oh, and more shoveling.


just one of those normal weekends... ya know?

red noseing it.

Sometimes, it's good to figure out who you are inside.
And sometimes to do that, you have to turn the insides outside....

So, tomorrow I'm going to a clowning course.

That seems like a really good idea.






**and if anyone has $400 they'd like to give me, there's a week long course coming up that I'd love to attend.

roadtrips with Persia

I just spent a lovely day in the city visiting some of the favourites, and catching up with some old friends... it was so good to see those faces.

I feel like each part of the day was it's own day... too many stories jumbling together, starting with Muffins in Farsi and ending with a tiny smiling elf playing the drums beside spinning speakers.
no.
really.


-yogurt and sitars
-roomie visit (how to get lost in the mall)
-catching up
-Roots Music Canada's woodshed
-polka roo debunked
-knitting in the pub with (the) rats
-"I was a smoker dating a smoker" ... "how'd you like to date another smoker?"...."admit it, that was really funny".
-the Nylons (baby, are you busy tonight?)
-dinner and music a la Cleave Anderson and John T. Davis

knit one slip purlside... knit... slip. slip. slip. slip.

Hi, my name is Bess... and I have a sock knitting addiction.

I know.

I know....
It's a nasty habit.
Ignoring housework.
Ignoring the phone.
All those fibres. Needles. Scissors. More needles...

Just laying... around the house everywhere.
Where ANY ONE could find them!
I know.
And I tell myself each time... this is the last sock....
I promise.


And then...
I open the cupboard.
or
I walk into the shop.
I see something soft and fine, in a cool or even a warm tone.
Self striping maybe.
Mixed fibres, wool, alpaca, angora... cotton, bamboo, hemp..... my blood races from my heart to my hands, from my hands to my heart to my head as I .
just.
reach.
out.
and.
touch.

cave....

purchase....

nested, under an old afghan... corner of the couch, snowflakes blowing past my window...
slip knit slip knit slip.

counting beans

I'm still a bit of a stats whore.
I got excited today when I looked at the sidebar stat counter and realized guest number 1600 had come and gone...

then I remembered that it was the "new" stat counter, reset after moving the blog to the newer format two years ago... I'm actually nearer to 30,000 guests.... and even that count doesn't take into account the first two and a half years of the blog.

um.
really.
this is dorky excitement.

hold still

If that dog wouldn't breathe so much, she'd be a great music stand/ foot stool.

Monday Bunday

Jelly is banished to the far side of the baby gate. A fair trade- usually 'Touff is behind bars...




Once the littlest girly started playing on the floor, we realized she and Pontouff were about the same (body) sized. eek!





*pay no attention to the pile of empties in the background!! I've been saving them for a bottle drive since July.... If they don't get picked up on this next round, I'm going to have to make the (shameful) trip to the beer store to return all the bottles. Actually... pay no attention to that back room... it's last on the list of repairs in the house- it's the old kitchen- currently the mud room/storage and junk catch-all.

Brunch. 2nd breakfast

I hosted "family brunch" this morning.... I first started to blog this morning before breakfast, but decided that the "it's about to happen" story wasn't as lovely as the "it just happened" story.




While I didn't have any blood family relatives over, I had the next best thing with some of the favourites joining in the pot luck meal. Brunch as a pot luck is likely the best thing ever. You can bring anything and it'll fit. Eggs and jube jubes? why not? Sausages and pie? sure! go ahead! Crumpets and fruit and hashbrowns and cheese balanced the meal out just perfectly.








Much laughter happened at the table, and conversation ranged from festival frustration and celebration, to faith, babies, jobs and literature.

"I brought you a book, you said you needed ideas for things to read"... Bob hands me a ragged coverless binding of pages. Dog eared doesn't even cover it. "It's ok if that one gets beat up a little, I've got another copy at home. But you have to read this one before I lend you the next one."

Once our stomachs were filled, we moved to the living room... instruments were tuned... more laughter... Two ukes, guitar, mando, and an autoharp... a request- Rolling Stone, and then "Fat Bottomed Girls"... A rockabilly Sunday.

walking on water.

as promised, a few shots from the other day....










Photo credits: Rae

favourites

My favourite hobbits came home last night, which is lovely... but it meant their house sitter had to go back home. *sigh*

Since the hobbits were settling back into their schedule, and everyone else seemed to be doing other things... I found myself with no choice.

I put on an audio book, I opened a can of Rekorderlig (red berry), and I took down the Christmas tree.

The house looks funny now. And I miss the twinkle lights lighting... I may have to buy one of those paper lamps and fill it with twinkles... just for the glow.

based on actual events

The following is partly word for word, partly "close enough".
I'll let you figure out which part is which.

R: What about "x"?

M: put him on the list.

R: what about "y", would you date him?

M: (hesitantly) uh

R: why not?

M: I wouldn't say no if he asked me out.

R: That's all I wanted to hear.... I don't know if you've noticed, I'm not putting my all into this. I've got a vested interest in you staying single. Otherwise I have to share you. I think maybe we should just buy you a vibrator and forget about finding you a husband so we can hang out whenever I want".

M: *eye roll*

up and down the dunes

I went snow shoeing for the first time in years today,

and now my muscles and ligaments are trying to get along.

Rae and I walked down to the beach and pretended we were explorers from another land- the land did seem alien to us- the addition of french accents and poor grammar completed the scene. I hadn't been down to the beach in about a month... seriously, who lives just a few blocks from the beach and doesn't go everyday? I need to change that- except for the cold. The cold has been the best reason EVER to avoid going.

The ice has been churning up against the shore, building. Creating false cliffs out in the water... well beyond the actual shore. There's a miniature ice burg locked in the corner of the breakwater to the harbour- the groans and sighs of the water heaving in and out of it's cracks sound haunted. A few times I stopped just to listen. Silence. Water birds. Slushy sloppy ice further out, the waves carrying it, mixing it.

We walked the dunes on the beach, climbed up on the breakwater, skirted the harbour. Chased some birds, wrote love letters to hobbits in the snow, and forged a trail to the bakery for warm bread and cookies.

Can we just revisit that comment about the bad french accents?
Photos to follow... eventually.

I turned the heat back up in the hot tub this morning before we set out.
Best thought ever.

make the most of it

A toast!
To my favourite toast.
Growing up, somehow, my mom could time the bread just right- so it was coming out of the oven as we walked in the door. The smell would drive me crazy, and waiting till it had cooled just enough that she could cut off thick slices, and slather them in butter- left me drooling and hanging over the counter in the kitchen.

Sometimes I try to recreate those smells. I don't eat much bread usually... and the bread I do eat- I treat myself to from the Millstone Bakery in town... mmmmm. I really need to learn how to make just one loaf.














This is my favourite bread, a Finnish Coffee Loaf that our family just called "Sugar Bread" growing up.... it makes the sweetest toast... I can't wait till morning!

Monday Bunday

Please, step into the time machine with me... we're going to go back to the future and remember when the buns were but tiny sweet faces.... and had never caused a problem ever.



I love these pictures... I wish I'd had the foresight to take a picture of each of them in a similar pose, or with the same objects around them to compare their sizes... Both of them are at 5.5 weeks here... the difference being, Fynn fit in the palm of my hand... and Pontouff was the same length as a full-grown Fynn!

bright white

The snow is blinding today.
After a week of clouds, the sun glares off of every surface.
It's painful and beautiful.
Minus 22 degrees Celsius ... wind warning of -40.
*shudder*

Last night I was headed to Hugh's Room to attend the 9th annual Lightfoot Tribute concert...
I haven't been to one since... the 4th? Maybe it was the 3rd?
Either way, I was really really looking forward to it- An evening of great music, then time spent with some of my favourite people... A night in the city.

By the time I left my house yesterday, it has been snowing softly for about an hour... just an inch of snow sat on the ground, I gave the driveway and sidewalks a quick swipe, then set off across town to the highway... By the time I got on the onramp though, I'd decided it wasn't worth it. The storm had picked up.... I'm no stranger to snowstorm driving. I'm willing to push through a little blizzard to get where I'm going... but as I pushed through the drift of snow on the on ramp, and struggled with the poorest of poor visability... I knew my day to turn around had come.
The 401 was down to a single lane- the others covered in snow... and I went through an actual snowbank to get off the highway when I reached the Port Town.

The family home is still there*, so I pulled up to the house to make some calls to let people know the change of plans. (I called from my cell in the driveway) In the time it took to make two quick calls and send two text messages, I had to get back out of the car and wipe the snow off.

Joy in the evening? Yup, After I turned back: Had a great dinner with friends, read a sweet little book, visited with an old friend while shoveling, felt pretty (as I got myself all sassed up for the show).


*I may have snuck in the house and discovered a lonely Kala low G solid body Tenor, which I may or may not have rescued .... Don't worry dad, I'll return it when you get home in May.

Peace Joy and Love

I'm sitting on the couch a little teary eyed.
I just got off the phone with a friend who just told me about some sad news in her life... That's not the reason for the tears. She said that she looks to me as an example of happiness.
And she wants to get together to talk about what it means to be happy.
So, I'm touched.
And scared.
It feels really big.

In high school and university I spent time doing a study on joy. I took a course through a church, went to bible studies, I met with two other girls... and that is what we lived.... finding joy.

What did I learn?

Two things.

That joy is a choice: In everything, I can choose to find joy. I may not always be happy, but there will always be something to find joy in.

And that when you love, it's easier to find peace in things, simpler to find the joy.



-found joy today in: my leftover homemade hamburger for lunch, in the memories of canning day- brought by the homemade ketchup. Watching the snow fall from the comfort of my couch. The knowledge that I am learning and making music. The colour of my favourite kitchen chair. The way my computer always thinks I've spelled "colour" and "favourite" wrong. The expectation in waiting for this evening's concert, and the people that I'll get to see. Making a coffee date with a friend.

soggy cuffs

My plan today is to go downtown and buy a calendar, sit in the Bean, knit, or maybe Uke.
Jenny and I used to sit in there and play our Ukes all the time... since it's changed owners we haven't. We decided the other night that it might be time to break the new guy in.

It's still snowing.
It's been snowing for forever.
all my photos from the past few weeks are dark from the covering of ever present clouds...

I spent the day in the Port earlier in the week- the river was making angry noises under the ice.



This morning there was much shoveling to be done at work



And then some more when I got home!

what about you

Two nights in a row of Uke time.

my fingers, sore from the use.

"Margarita Ville" is on the radio... it was one of the pieces we shopped last night at the Corktown Jam... "shopping a piece" or running a bit of a workshop on a song, breaking it down into chunks and working thru the fiddly bits. I love that about the Corktown jam.
By the end of the "shop" we had the strummers and the pickers, new ideas for fingering, and a few new chords under our belts.

It's a pretty simple song when you break it down, but I think it was the thing I was most excited about this week... well, that and the alternate fingering for a D7 to a G for a quick transition to E7... and a fun run for Blood Sweat and Tears' "Spinning Wheel".


I need to upload some newer videos. Tonight at the pub The Writer said he'd come across my youtube channel... He had nice things to say- but mostly I was embarrassed because they're so old and pretty rough.
I actually had been watching one earlier today, and spent a large portion of the afternoon trying to figure out how to pick thru the song (my early version was just strummed)... I've nearly got it... I just want to replace one note... but I'm not sure with what... it's a D being played, but when I pick it out the strings are A D Gb A (which are correct) I just don't like the sound of the two A's being picked... I like the sound of the D going to the Eb and back (I'm actually picking the strings in a 23412342 pattern) but it clashes against the melody when I actually sing it... I'll just have to use that D Eb D Gb A for something else.

oh.
that got a little more techie than I intended.

maybe for that chord I could just play D Gb A Gb D Gb A D? I'll give it a try in the morning.

pout

My dog has this amazing gift of being able to make me feel terrible.
I'm abandoning her.
I'm starving her.
She's freezing.
She's boiling to death.
I'm starving her.
I'm not paying enough attention.
I'm smothering her.
I'm starving her.
Honestly, she acts like I've never fed her in her life.

Today I left the house to head out for an oil change for my car (so.so.so.so.so.so overdue.) I left a little early as I had to stop at a friend's place to let her dog out... Miss Jelly pouted, I'd only JUST gotten home from work long enough to feed her and let her out. But I knew I'd be back in an hour to play with her..... 6 hours later I got home.
Turns out I needed a new muffler.
Home just long enough to let her out and grab a few Ukuleles before running to NUkeO.
Home from NUkeO (and it's obligations) and off to work again.
Poor dog.
so hard done by. *



(I promise to stop blogging about my dog so much)

*Portrait of a cold pooch in the car on the way home from the cottage

Monday Bunday

I nearly forgot it was monday.....




Fynn Pants sometimes like to dig in his litter box.
I'm still waiting for him to learn how to use a broom.

jet outta here.

I'm going to be headed to my dad's place down in Florida in a little less than a month. I'm pretty excited to sit and watch the dolphins while I drink my morning coffee... walk the beach for hours....

While I'm gone TLS will be house sitting the buns and the pooch (and the hot tub)... I'm glad. The pooch doesn't hold too too much disdain for him. In fact, she's even been known to sniff him... and even ignore him knocking at the door (I know! shocker right? the dog who barks at everything that sounds like a door knock). The buns will disapprove of anyone, and so long as they're fed and loved a little, they'll tolerate him.

My worry is not that TLS will lock himself out again and have to climb through the kitchen window, it is as with every trip- that my plane will crash and someone will have to go through all those random boxes in my basement and files in my dresser if I die. That worries me... so it's about this time that I start to go a little crazy purging.

Today I went down to the boxes to take a look at what I was up against... (and it's really not that bad, it's mostly boxes of books waiting for a book shelf - or eight) and I encountered a box of old journals. which of course I started reading. Then, I went back up stairs and started reading old blog posts.

I found one that made me laugh a little, and made me feel a little on edge remembering the woman in the story.

http://parsleyseasonings.blogspot.com/2006/06/shady-corner-of-street.html

However, in a strange turn of events, sketchy has become someone I know thru GTI... it changes everything when you get to know someone a little.

acting chops

it wasn't really lying ... as much as just using my ability to hang part of a sentence in the air...

Last night driving thru little lawless gallery town, I passed a police cruiser. I wasn't speeding. My stickers are up to date on my plates. My lights are working. And yet, the cruiser pulled out and followed me to the house. I was parking on the side of the country road when he pulled up beside me.
I rolled down my window.

"Hello L.Bo"
uh, hello?

"I know your name... know how I know that?"
uh, I'm not sure...

"I ran your plates"
(at this point I'm trying to figure out what's going on, I squint thru the snowflakes to see if it's an officer I know, maybe one of the guys from high school, or one from work?)

"I ran your plates and you forgot to renew your license on your birthday"
But!! I renewed my stickers on my birthday.... *

"yes, but you also needed to renew your license"
They didn't mention that at the office....

"I just wanted to give you a heads up, if you were pulled over for anything, it'd be a $350 fine... have a good night, and don't forget to get your license on Monday"

oh.
ok....
thank you so much!**

*I actually noticed the other day, but forgot to go on Friday when they were open. I don't drive my car often enough to think of these things...

**at that point I ran in the house laughing to tell the story to the girls at the PJ party hosted by two of my favourite men.

hic.up.

Growing up, in high school, I had chronic hicups. Not as bad as my friend Mandamanda, but bad enough that I got kicked out of my afternoon classes on a regular basis.

Years later, thru trial and error and watching my lifestyle, I discovered that it was a stress related thing (mostly). There are a few other triggers that are food related. Carroty things. I remember my mom saying that carrot sticks gave her hicups. Mostly it's carrot muffins or raw carrots for me.

I'm also a serious stereotype.

I just spent a lovely evening at the pub with some friends and I can't stop the hicups.



also- two things. I can't remember the first, but I'm sure it will come to me. Something about sea shanties.

The second- small town syndrome. I don't think I've ever seen our waitress from tonight- but in conversation she said something about knowing that I lived in the apartment over her boss a few years back. (yup, hanging at the crazy lady's pub)

GTI

Spent some time today at the Motel.
I know I haven't written too much about it in a number of months. But things are... good.
There have been some huge changes.

HUGE

And, sometimes.. I see these little glimpses of change that leave me breathless.

Like today, there's a father and son that come for dinner. Dad lives at the motel, his son (near to my age, maybe a little younger?) rents a place nearby. They both come early for dinner. Hours early, and spend the time joking around with whom ever else happens to be there.
I'm mocked.
A lot.

Dad's had some really great news about a pension, he's going to be able to move out- but first, until he moves along on the list for geared-to-income housing, he's signed up for one of the new rooms at GTI.

This is big.

Even bigger is that he talks about "that guy who used to live in [his] room. That guy punched all the plaster out of the walls", drank for days on end, hardly ever left his room, who had anger in his eyes all the time... people were scared of him.

That guy is history.

Today he had so much joy in his face that I could barely breathe watching him.
He's beautiful.

Auditions

As promised, a little run-down of the auditions from a few weeks ago.
'umberland Players are putting on "the 25th annual putnam county spelling bee". Long name, great little show.

It's a show of just leads. There's no chorus backing them up, so I was quite hesitant to try out. But,like I mentioned a while ago, I was encouraged by someone who said a few times "my dream cast includes you, x, y, and z". In conversation with this person, they talked about the show and how "we'd" be doing it, what "our" set was going to look like... and a few other comments that made me feel like it was in the bag. So, yes, I was pretty hurt when I didn't get the part.

BUT. That comes from my biggest weakness.
My greatest strength.
Something that I still need to learn to control.


The best people were chosen for the parts based on their ability to excel in the audition process.

I don't know if I have the vocabulary to describe this fully, I've touched on it before.... and it's long, so feel free to skip it.

I have, since I was about 16, been blessed with the fantastic ability to hear harmony. Music in a whole sense. There's a physical sensation that I feel when I hear music- some people say they sense numbers in colour, people refer to seeing something and nearly being able to taste the vision, I have a physical sensation when I hear music. It happens mostly in my throat and neck- but when a "complete" piece of music is heard, I feel it down into my chest. A squeeze and release that follows the shape of the notes, and the sense that there are two portions in me, one leaning against the other in sound, pushing for a balance, and when the balance is reached, it's a tight feeling, nearly painful in it's perfection.
I used to joke that I had "harmony-itis", and the only way I could explain what was happening in me was that I only heard the harmony... but, when I take it apart, note by note... I hear the melody in my ears and my head, and my brain turns my response into the right "lean" to create a balance. When I sing a harmony, unless it's one I've learned by repetition... I don't know what I'm singing... I couldn't sing it back to you without the melody because it doesn't exist in my mind. A physical response to "fill out" the sound.

ug. I just read what I wrote and it sounds so stupid!
Why aren't we given the vocabulary for these sort of things?

So, to learn a melody takes me a little time.
I have to force myself to step away from the music, and learn the physical characteristics of the tune. If you listen carefully to me stumbling thru a new piece of music, you'll notice I'm breaking into the harmony to what I'm suppose to be learning in the most random of spots.

Trust me.
it's annoying.

In an audition, in a call back, you're asked to learn a few pieces of new songs and sing them solo. I'm just not quick enough on the draw to learn the melody and sing it confidently.

So, the strongest person gets the part. That's the way it should be.

Someday, I'll develop what I've got. Or I'll find a use for it beyond singing around a campfire.

Monday Bunday

an oldie but a goodie....
I didn't have my camera out with the buns this week, so here's the dearly missed Norton Pee Bunny....

Fallin' fallin' fallin'

Three days ago we were hit by some snow.
The plow didn't bother to do our street till yesterday... which.. made it kinda slippery, and difficult to plow at all.

Last night we had a pretty great snow fall, so good that people were going door to door offering to shovel! In the past hour, the plow has driven up and down the street 6 times.

I'm headed to the cottage with the girls for the weekend (and JellyDog- the buns have a friend checking in on them) Technology free weekend, here I come!
(Unless I buy that new phone to replace the one I lost last month...)

update: Monday Bunday

Hold on to your whiskers, it's been a long time coming.

Bunday Mondays will resume this coming week.


Until then, here's an old photo... (don't worry his nails have been trimmed since then!)

stabby.

I work in a group home- I'm paid to sleep there....

Last night as I climbed into my bed, I was stabbed twice.
Not by any of the residents, but by the darning needle I'd stuck in the collar of my shirt at some point in the evening, and then by the cable needle I'd left in my pony tail.

oops.

Photos tomorrow of the current project.

more squeak than crunch

I'm on a bit of a house cleaning strike.
Which, doesn't really make sense, as I'm the only person who lives there full time.
Maybe tomorrow?
I just feel... blah.
I can't be bothered to get dressed. I just want to sit in my PJs and knit.
One good thing, I've been forcing myself to leave the house during the day ... uh, to go knit... at the Bean.
*insert eyeroll at myself*
I'm going to need a winter hobby that forces me to be social, and that doesn't include sitting by myself in the coffee shop drinking cup after cup of tea.

Tonight at GTI, lovely S and I were allowing ourselves to get a little silly. I think it helps. The space can be so dreary, people's situations so difficult... Anyway, after tearing down the Christmas tree we decided to head over to the grocery store to pick up cream and sugar for the coffee table. Neither of us is very good at reining ourselves back in from being silly- and S has fewer filters than I have. We rounded a corner in the store and walked up behind a man with the most lovely ass ever. What does S do? Pretty near assaults the man! She reached forward and made motions as if grabbing his cheeks... just as a woman rounded the corner from the next aisle.... we die laughing on the spot and rush to pay for our purchases before lovely ass can even turn around.

A great night, even if the temperature is at squeak and not crunch.
Brrrrr. hotwater bottle time!

to clarify...

I feel like today is as good a day as any to bring up my feelings about the cold. Mostly because I'm sitting in the basement at work shivering a little- waiting for the kettle to boil so I can fill my hotwater bottle.

I like the cold.

Please read that line again.

Note that it doesn't say "I like to be cold" or even "I like being cold".

I like the cold.
I like it because of what it forces. It forces me to take measures to become warm, to stay warm.
Sweaters, Scarves, Mittens... they make me smile.*
Hotwater bottles, like a warm hug wrapped in a felted sweater**
Slippers, blankets, toques***
Blankets, duvets, cuddling, spoons.
I like the cold.




*honestly... scarves? It like you've suddenly been given permission to carry a personal sized security blanket with you out in public!
**oh, maybe it's just my hotwater bottle wrapped in a felted sweater?
***sometimes I wear my toque in the hot tub.

How to do Christmas.

hike


Skate

huddle

(pond campfire provided by the Sheffrats)

New year...

two thoughts for today....

This morning I saw a neighbour washing his truck. A large white pick up truck. He was down on his hands and knees while he lovingly wiped the last traces of dirt from the shining hubcaps.

Tonight walking home from work I had the overwhelming urge to fling chocolate pudding all over it with a plastic spoon.

I didn't do it.
I just really wanted to.


Other thought: I wish that everyone I knew could take part in something like the event we had last night.
The 3rd annual collage (not college) party. New Years' eve brought in with a pile of arts... I don't think I can do it justice to talk about it. Just picture some of your favourite people in a room, a long playlist of your favourite (and new favourite) musicians. A table, heavy with slow cooked food. And the freedom to be. And the invitation to create.
yup.
it was a great way to start the year...

I'm not sure if this will work...

Happy New Year!

(tappa tappa brought to you by the 3rd annual collage party '10/'11)