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.