It's a BOOK!

Shoreline Writers' Publication Committee has just published its fifth chapbook, titled Road to Hell. It's a beauty. If I like you a lot, you will get a copy soon as a gift. There's also a launch on Jan. 16 around 2pm at the Port Moody Arts Centre. Also, I have some that I can sell for $5 each. Short stories and poetry by six contributors all crafted into a delectable collection, with stunning cover art, and beautifully put together by Fred Braches, our publishing genius. It's good!

Question: How many ways can you give birth? (I haven't stopped counting.)

mompoet - beaming

Sk8ing is Gr8

Wish I could do figure 8s as easy as typing them in on my computer keyboard. When I'm writing I imagine that's what it feels like to be a really good skater. Intention translates to action with no apparent connection between initial thought and completion. Unconsciously skilled? What skating and writing have in common is the need for practice. The only way to skate like a floating dream is to work at it for hours and years and learn increasingly difficult moves and sequences by falling down a lot. The most important thing is to skate. Writing's the same. You have to keep practising and trying more and more difficult things. As you get better, it seems like the story writes itself, but it's really climbing the ladder that's been set through hours and days and years of application. Talent counts too, of course. But the practice allows the potential to be realised.

In skating, I lack both talent and practice, but I still enjoy it. It's the closest thing to flying I know. One small push and the water molecules liquify under your blades and zoooom! I got out for the first time this season with Emma, my five-year-old friend. Emma's mom doesn't skate so she asked me to go to her school skating party with her. This little girl is just learning to skate. She spent almost as much time lying on the ice as gliding over it, but she kept on smiling and getting up and skating some more. She held my hand only a little, preferring to go on her own. It was like watching a baby learn to walk, her movements all uncoordinated and over-correcting. Every time she fell she did what her skating teacher showed her: tummy, knees, foot, up! I helped her but she felt light as a feather, pushing up with her own strength. Her cheeks were pink and she was grinning at me with her two front teeth missing. What a cutey! We're planning to go again on New Year's Eve, with my kids and my friend Louise and my godson Sam too. It's good to do things that you're not that great at but give you a sense of what being good must feel like. Inspired by Emma's cheery optimism, I might even try some figure 8s.

As for the writing, I have a couple of short (I think) stories bumping at the top of my consciousness. I'm going to try to open my brain and let them out over the holidays. As a writer, I'm at the intermediate level, with lots to learn. The possible moves and sequences are infinitely complex and challenging, but I love practising. Also, I am talented. My ladder can be extended into the stratosphere if I work at it.

Question: Who wouldn't?

mompoet - cheerfully optimistic and willing to fall down

The Sound and the Word

I performed a couple of pieces at The Sound and the Word at Misanthropy Gallery last night. Andria Papineau and Damon run this new monthly series at a neat little gallery on Pender Street. The big event was The Leftover Fugitives - Barbara Adler, Brendan McLeod, Marc Berube and CR Avery. They are going to the UK at the end of January, so are raising funds right now for their tour. They did about 7 or 8 group pieces with music, singing, spoken word. It was simply gorgeous! The place was packed and people were so enthusiastic, cheering, stomping clapping, singing the chorus. What fun, and what talent. I've seen all of these artists before (except Marc, but now I've seen and met him). On their own they are each outstanding. Together is more than the sum of the parts. They are doing another fundraiser on Jan. 16 at the Railway Club. Don't miss it.

Other than that, yesterday rated at negative 1.5 stars out of 5. There were a couple of small obstacles at work that left me discombobulated, even though it didn't take much to recover. I'm still feeling like I have to go back and talk some more to people - wish I'd done a better job on the spot, but sometimes your brain stalls and it just takes a bit of time and another try. Then my husband, who was going to drive my daughter to her show, got called back to work for an emergency after he had left, so I had to race home early and slam together some supper before driving. When I got home I discovered that the kitchen drain must have been plugged bad in the morning because the dishwasher (which I left running when I left for work in the morning) had backed up into the sink and overflowed onto the kitchen floor. When the kids got home from school they threw beach towels on it. So there I was at 5:15 chucking together supper and slopping up the floor and bailing the gukky sink and getting ready to drive daughter to the show then go back to my office for a while, then go downtown to be a poet. Bleggggg. Oh yeah, then at the reading, I accidentally knocked over this guy's beer with my foot while I was squeezing into my seat and then I nearly fell into another guy's lap. I felt like the elephant of misfortune.

The saving grace is my wonderful husband. He finished up with the emergency at the lab and called me on his cell on the way home to offer to bring me supper, and remembered that I was going to read and wished me well and was just generally very sweet and appreciative. Then he drove home and unplugged the sink cleaned up the whole bloody mess that I had not had time to deal with. I thought, "If he's exhausted from worked and stressed to the hilt and can still be this kind and thoughtful, I can get over one yukky day." I do need my vacation, I can tell. And I sure hope he gets some vacation too. From the amount of work still rolling in he might be working all except for a couple of days around Christmas. He's working this weekend too. Hmmm, maybe I'll go to his work and kidnap him and go hide out in a cabin with him for a few days and they'll just have to figure out how to manage. Nice thought.

Question: Why is there often too much of some things and not enough of others?

mompoet - frazzed but counting down (7 work hours to Christmas vacation)

Jalapenos Part 2

WARNING: COMPARED TO MY LAST POST THIS IS BORING. IT DOES NOT CONTAIN A CATALOGUE OF RUDE WORDS. IF YOU ARE BORED BY A LACK OF RUDENESS YOU MAY STOP READING NOW.

First of all, I realised they aren't even jalapenos. Jalapenos are green and fatter. Yes, I am obsessive about details. If anyone can identify what kind of peppers they are, I think I can let it go.

Second, my dad, who knows almost everything, told me about the "Mood Watch" feature on Eudora:

The story is that it was put in to pacify some business people who wanted their employees using Eudora not to offend people they e-mailed. The bad words list is hard-wired deep inside the program. If it were an external plug in, people like me could (and would) go in and modify it. If I were a programmer I might even be able to dig into the program as it now stands and do that. ... And if you really dislike Mood Watch, you can turn it off. Windows-using business employees are presumed to be stupid enough that they won't open the Settings option and turn it off.

Thus enlightened, I found the settings list and twiddled with Mood Watch. I'll probably turn it off later, but for now I'm still playing. I discovered that 3 is the maximum number of peppers. Gosh, here I was hoping to find a way to get 5 or 6. Also, I have never seen just 1 because that feature was not activated in the default settings. So now I have turned it on so I can be warned if I have received or am about to send a just slightly possibly offensive message.

Already, my friend Kirsi has purposefully sent me a 3 chili message just to find out what her rating would be. Yayyy Kirsi!!! You scored maximum allowable chilis! Now go wash your mouth out with soap!

Question: What variety of peppers pop up for persistent potty-mouth?

mompoet - punchy, prudish, vicariously potty-mouthed

Hot Damn, I got Jalapenoed

WARNING: THIS POST HAS SWEAR WORDS AND SENSATIONAL MATERIAL IN IT. IF THIS IS LIKELY TO OFFEND YOU, DON'T READ IT, PLEASE!!!!!

ALSO, I PROMISE NOT TO POST STUFF LIKE THIS ANY MORE THAN VERY RARELY. IT'S NOT MY STYLE TO CURSE AND SWEAR, BUT THIS IS IN THE INTEREST OF SCIENCE OR AT LEAST CURIOSITY.

I use Eudora for my email. It's different from Outlook or OE in a lot of ways. One of my favourites is the Jalapeno. If my friend sends me a message with swearing or other objectionable stuff in either the subject line or the body of the message, the message will be flagged with 1, 2 or 3 jalapenos. Who knows, maybe there are 4 for some messages, but I haven't received one like that...yet.

What I didn't know until today is that Eudora also jalapenoes outgoing messages. I found out when I sent a reply to a friend who had accidentally invited us to bring "nipples" to share at a party, when she meant to say "nibbles." I replied that I thought her message was funny, that I enjoyed it, and that she should keep her nipples inside where they would be warm. When I pressed "SEND," a Eudora message popped up, asking me to reconsider my message because it might offend the recipient. Using "nipples" earned my message a 2 jalapeno rating.

Hmmm, I thought, how does this work? For what words is it sensitive? Of course I had to play with it. Here are my discoveries:

• Anatomical terms (vagina, testicle, uterus, labia, vulva, scrotum, rectum) got my message 2 jalapenos.
• Pedestrian hard curses (What the fuck? and damn shit boogie) get 3 jalapenos. Curious about boogie? I think swear words are boring. I had to do something to jazz it up.
• Explicit words for a variety of sex acts (fellatio, rimming, fisting) got 3 jalapenos. Interestingly, Eudora's spellcheck knew I got it wrong when I spelled fellatio with one "l" but offered only bland and harmless alternatives. Had to go to dictionary.com to figure it out. Don't laugh! How often does one have occasion to actually spell it? Maybe in a thank-you note?
  
• Cunnilingus is not as offensive as fellatio. No jalapenos for this act.
  
• Also bestiality and necrophilia must be generally acceptable in polite conversation. Either that or the censor had a limited imagination when making the list. No jalapenos for these.
  
• Common lesser curses (piss, bitch, cock, crap, tits, whore, asshole) all got 3 jalapenos too.
• Many awful, terrible, upsetting things do not get jalapenos for their words (war, genocide, hate crimes, Nazi, fascist, capitalist, I'm all right Jack. Bully, extortion, homophobia, persecution, exclusion, brainwashing, Christian fundamentalist).
• Bad things that ignorant and/or cruel people say (fag, nigger, lesbo, dyke, kike) also earned 3 jalapenos.
• Chink, hate, lynch and "Gay marriage is a sin," did not get jalapenoed.

A jalapeno does not prohibit the sending or reading of messages. It's simply a flag to say, "Do you really want to send this?" or "Be careful, reading this might cause you to be offended."

Conclusion: Jalapeno system picks out many single words that might cause a reader to blush or become offended. It has a higher tolerance for scientific terms and a limited scope/vocabulary. It mostly recognizes common curse-words and vulgar sex and body references. I bet the Eudora inventors did not spend a lot of time or thought on the details of this part of the program. I sure would like to read their list and rationale.

I think it's okay, not terribly useful. More fun as a party game or idle distraction than an actual communication tool. (Ooooohhh "tool!" Wonder if that's a jalapeno word?)

Question: What rates just 1 jalapeno? What do you have to say to get 4?

mompoet - going to wash my mouth out now

Hi Coo

split pomegranate
red gems spill on snowy white
wet sweet explosions

Question - Does "jewels" have one or two syllables?

mompoet - scattering

Don't Go into the Woods

Don't go into the woods at Solstice.
There's a bear with a Coke, who'll give you a poke
And make you think you don't have enough Christmas.
There's a witch and her clan out-Jonesing the Joneses
In her gingerbread sparkles and lipstick the colour of the apple that Snow White bit.
There's a mackerel-scented Christ candle floating in a bowl of abandoned cranberries.
There's a girl in a pageant
Dressed as Holy Mary Mother of God in her immaculate deception
Traipsing Holy Holy around in the snow
As white as her pure heart pretends to be.
But if she's a good liver, she'll mean what she says and do better.

Don't go into the woods at Solstice.
There's an idea of joy as easy to swallow
As a golf ball, washed down with curdled nog made from the egg of a dragon.
There's a giant with nose hair
Fashioned into a bouffant comb-over, only to hide
That he's been crying, because the children will play in his garden
But none will be his forever.
There are evil squirrels who do voices for anime features about
Superheroes named Alvin, Theodore and Simon.
And the elves spell evel with two "e"s.

Don't go into the woods at Solstice.
You'll see yourself
Reflected in the frost-crazed cover of a mineral lake.
And you'll go blind trying to carve your ideas about peace, hope, joy and love
Into an old-growth forest that's been devoured by beetles
Because the winters are never cold enough any longer.
And those who read them before they fall
Will dismiss them as derivative, and turn back
To classic carols, digitally re-mastered onto melba-toast rounds
With smoked oysters for entertainment.

Don't go into the woods at Solstice
Because you might not believe them.
You might just open your eyes and see the sky still clear over the trees
And realize
That twenty days or so of overdoing just about everything
Can't really hurt anyone who isn't hurting already.
But why do it anyway?

Don't go into the woods at Solstice.
Go into the world, go into your home, go into the street.
The woods will be there another night
When daylight is nearer.
And the bear and the witch and Snow White and Holy Mary Mother of God and the dragon and the giant and the squirrels and the anime chipmunks and the elves and the beetles and the oysters will still be there too.
Only it's possible you'll find
That they are just as afraid of you as you are of them.
Don't go into the woods.

Question: Why do it anyway?

mompoet - spinning toward solstice

Martha and Daughter (and husband and son)

We did it. The tree is all a-glitter. There's a fat home-made cedar wreath on the front door. The boxes are all shoved downstairs. Every Santa picture ever taken of our kids is displayed on one bookshelf. Daughter was into it like a dirty shirt, unpacking, arranging, adorning. Husband did the electrical parts then went to bed. Son handed me a bunch of ornaments, hugged me about 20 times, jumped up and down and said "Dontcha love Christmas!" then disappeared downstairs. We watched A Christmas Story on DVD.

Glass of wine, email, last dog-whizzz for the night and we're done. Okay Christmas. We're ready for you.

Question: What needs to be done and what can be left "un?"

mompoet - winding down from tizzy of domesticity

It's a Tree!

Swooop! We got a bunch of Christmas done on Sunday. Our daughter had an hour and a half between shows, and my husband was recovering from working about a million days in a row, so I told him to just rest. Daughter and I left the theatre after the matinee, dropped off her friend, and drove to Rona (where my husband said I could find a low-priced and good tree).

At first we were discouraged. There were beautiful $50 trees over to one side which we avoided, then in the middle there were all of these bound and gagged $22 trees, wound up with twine. When we finally got the guy to cut some of the twine, the branches were still reaching straight up, so how could you tell? What's worse, the guy told me, "Sorry, I won't help you tie the tree on your car. I can put it on your roof, but you have to tie it." We just about left in frustration, but then we saw it - about 6 and a half tall and fat and bushy as a groundhog. That was our tree! Luckily Mr. "Don't ask me for help" was busy with somebody buying a $50 tree and a nice young woman offered to help us. She cut off all of the straggly branches near the bottom of the trunk and gave it a fresh cut, then she carried it to our car and helped me tie it down. I don't have a roof rack so I cracked open the window and we threaded the twine in and out and around the trunk of the tree. My only mistake was firmly tying my driver's side door shut, so I had to climb in from the passenger side (d-oh!)

We thought pure thoughts as we drove down the highway, imagining the darn thing slithering off and getting pulverized under the car behind us. Luckily we made it. I even put it up in the living room as soon as we got home. Then we grabbed a bite to eat and I hauled the actor-girl back to the theatre.

Now we have a naked tree and a glorious-smelling house. We'll all be home for supper and after on Tuesday so we'll put on the lights and the ornaments. Then it will be Christmas for real.

(Later Sunday I wrapped and parcelled everything for the post office to go to Cranbrook and Rupert, then I made a bunch of birthday cards - some belated.)

Question: What did you tie to your car?

mompoet: super-speedy express tree chooser, deliverer and erector

The Larynx

Hello! This is the part that sings, yells, talks into the night. Stress point number 2 for mompoet. Now that the trapezius has settled (almost) to its supple and strong self, the larynx is swelling or shrinking or whatever it does. I picture it healthy as fresh and somehow sticky with sound-velcro. When it gets sick it is so slick that sounds simply can't find a purchase, so they slide off, all lost potential. First the voice gets husky, then disappears, then comes back for a few days very deep and mysterious like a world-weary chain-smoking mama.

It's so predictable I am not worried. I'll just surf on top of it. Don't usually get sick, just sound that way. And don't sound like anything for a day or two. And because it's my soul/psyche/synapses that are the source of the problem, I will focus on living easier and more gently, rather than pursuing a medicinal cure.

Question: Can you hear me?

mompoet - promising no more boring health reports. For my next stress reaction I will buy expensive shoes, shave my head or get a tattoo.

The Trapezius

is a big, diamond-shaped muscle that hooks onto your spine at the top of your neck and to your shoulders. If we could fly, we'd use our trapezius muscle to lift our wings above the plane of our body (and the opposing pectorals on our chest to pull our wings back down below it).

The trapezius muscle is the one that allows us to turn our head around and look over our shoulder. It helps maintain the natural posture of our upper spine and hold the head up. We extend it when we reach forward to give a big person a large hug. We contract it when we pull our shoulders back and down.

When trapezius is not happy the neck gets stiff and there's pain in the shoulders and upper back. Sometimes there's a headache. It's the muscle that asks for a shoulder massage, one of the most non-threating intimate touches we can seek from a friend or acquaintance. It's the muscle under the part where we have to ask someone else to rub the sunscreen. It's a muscle that sometimes needs help.

Right now my trapezius is not happy. There are a few good shoulder-massagers of intimate acquaintance and trustworthiness here at home who can help with that (the same ones who help with the sunscreen in summer). There's also a heating pad and ibuprofen, but I also have a couple of remedies that are even nicer: wine and laughter. I once cured a board-stiff upper back by going to the Ridge Theatre for a Marx Brothers triple bill. I walked in like Frankenstein and oozed out all flexibility and molten warmth. The wine is a trick my mom taught me. Works for other muscle contraction type pain too.

The real fix is to fix what caused the tension, which is general holiday busy-ness and husband working mega-overtime. The latter just will be, and we're sure grateful for the work, given the current threats to our local film industry that are all over the media right now. The former will subside as my last week at the office winds down. I will have to talk myself into walking away from some projects that I had hoped to complete before the end of the year, but I'll be able to continue them when I return, and my boss is great about timelines (thank goodness). When our daughter's play has finished on the 19th that will be good too, although I wouldn't trade it for anything. She's enjoying it so much.

Tonight is my husband's work party - fancy supper out, dress up and all. I'll forgo the wine while I am there because I have agreed to be the D.D. (also I think boozing with the big bosses and the people you boss is really risky and unwise) But maybe I'll go look for a Marx Brothers video to enjoy when we get home tonight. The wine is ready, and I'm sure I can find another shoulder massage. That trapezius will be happy soon, I'm sure.

Question: Where's your tension spot?

mompoet - just slightly clenched but still able to back up the car

Opening Night

First real performance of Joseph happened tonight (after 2 preview performances for school groups on Wednesday). Things went pretty well. The actors and choir did great and most of the technical glitches seemed to be ironed out (at least from my sideways wing-peeking perspective). The actor who played the narrator was sick, so her stand-in took her place and did a good job. The kids were very good. They know their cues and their jobs, and when to sing, clap, move to another spot. They each have at least one special task, for which they are responsible from beginning to end. If a child has to carry a prop on during the show, he or she has to pre-set it backstage. And they do it! They are also responsible for their costumes and accessories after the performance. They encourage each other, and the big ones help make sure the little ones are in the right place. It's great that they can do this. Their choir director and we helper parents can guide them before, after and between scenes, but once they are on the stage, it's up to them.

I'm proud of them all and lucky to be there.

Question: none tonight

mompoet - just tired

Dress rehearsal

I have 3 pages of notes to type up nice, tired feet and heaps of admiration for the people who are putting on this show. What a genuinely good, talented and hard-working group. Lots of pitching in and sharing loads and no evidence of any bouffant egos. It's miles closer to ready than it was on Monday, and the rehearsal finished 20 minutes earlier than scheduled!

As "Choir Chaperone #2" I learned the show from the kids' point of view backstage: entrances, exits, props, ps and qs. Moving 20 youngsters in tight dark quarters past 30 adults hauling furniture and rushing onstage after costume changes is like some weird ballet. I can hear the show on the monitors, and I can overhear the stage crew's headset conversations as I lurk in the wings ready to catch, shhh and encourage kids. Tonight I helped with one nosebleed, prevented a couple of swordfights with battery-operated candles and learned how to rig Joseph's coat for the finale so that rainbow stripes of colour can be unfurled by the children. This is going to be fun.

The worst thing is I have blisters on my heels from new boots that I bought on the weekend and went out in to walk the dog on Monday morning. They're properly treated and bandaged and felt okay all day, but by 10:30 they feel like they must be bleeding or on fire or something. I will rest (with socks on) and see how they are in the morning. The worst is when the shower water hits them - YOWP! Oh well, if that's my only complaint, I guess I can go to the back of the line and shut up.

Question: Joseph, Joseph, is it really you?

stage-mompoet

ps - Great corny rhyme from the show:

I will now take them all for a ride
After all, they have tried fratricide.

Two days to show time

I forgot what it was like.

Our daughter had her tech rehearsal for Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat last night. I came to the theatre after working late and caught the last hour. What memories it brought back, and how proud and amazed I am to see this company working.

To someone who's never seen or been involved in a tech rehearsal before, it would look like they are in huge trouble. Everything is disconnected and awkward, and about 7 different layers of reality are all visible. Between Monday night and Thursday night's opening, those layers will laminate together into something beautiful. Watching, I was flooded with memories of tech nights for all of the community and school shows that I've been part of. It's pretty emotional that night when things get hustled from "almost" to "gotta do it." Faith, focus and hard work are required. And teamwork and trust.

What I saw last night was:

• The voice of God (the director) starting and stopping and re-winding the show and ordering re-positioning from the sound booth.
• The voice of Gabriel (lighting tech) from the catwalk "Sorry, I can't get that spot focussed any farther upstage. We'll have to try something else."
• Actors stepping in and out of character to ask good questions about who's carrying what prop and how to arrange themselves.
• Everyone getting used to moving from rehearsal space to the stage. The set is spectacular. It's a 25 foot high pyramid that does amazing things. Everyone has been imagining being 2 or 8 steps up or down, now they have to go 3-D and incorporate the actual elevation into their blocking and choreography.
• Controlled mayhem - moments of mirth enough to keep everyone from exploding, but not to interrupt the work that was going on.
• Reams of notes being taken by the assistant director. Yup 20 quires or more for sure.
• A weird mish-mash of costume components. Like everyone was partway through metamorphosis.
• Dancing, singing, entrances and exits ready and good.
• Props that have been imaginary or substituted suddenly real and needing to be remembered. (If you leave your mime goblet off stage you can pretend you had it all along. Now you need to actually have it. When you're done with it, you have to figure out where it goes.)
• Technical people staying calm in the middle of an overwhelming volume of things to do and remember and fix.
• Beautiful music.
• The kids are doing great. They were tired but they did their job and stayed focussed.
  

I'll be working as a choir chaperone for the second week of the run. Tonight I have to be part of the dress rehearsal and learn the show, so next week I can be responsible for getting the children's choir (20 performers) on and off stage, and supervised when they are waiting. I'll work one show later this week with the choir director to be sure I know what I'm doing, then I'm in there.

It's going to be great!

Question: How often do you get to see something like this?

mompoet: blessed

Quire - Part 2

1. Abbr. qr. or q. A set of 24 or sometimes 25 sheets of paper of the same size and stock; one twentieth of a ream.
2. A collection of leaves of parchment or paper, folded one within the other, in a manuscript or book.

Sing, twentieth of a ream, sing!

mompoet - playing with my words before I eat them. No question.

Another Favourite

Just back from church. Forgot to put this one on my list: Angels We have Heard on High.

Glo-ri-a, in ex-cel-sis De-o
Glo-ri-a, in ex-cel-sis De-o

Try it with a choir and a piano and organ. You will think you are the best singer in the world.

Question: why not?

mompoet - not the best, but singing anyway

Accelerating and Slowing Down

This has been a wind-up/slow down weekend so far. My husband worked overtime all day Saturday (starting at 5am) and he's back at it today. I've been running around fulfilling busy kid-schedules and doing a bit of cooking, cleaning, Christmas shopping and other necessary chores.

Friday evening I spend a couple of hours at Planet Lazer. Daughter was at a friend's birthday party there, and I agreed to help ferry a carload of 11 and 12 year-olds to the birthday girl's house after laser tag. When I got home at 8:30 my husband was already sleeping and son was lounging, so I went into the crawl space under the stairs and got out all of the Christmas lights and decorations. Party was over at 11 so I did a pick-up run then.

Saturday was 1 rehearsal, 1 tap-dance lesson, 1 concert in the evening. Son vegged out in the morning and took himself to the video store by transit to rent a game in the afternoon. In between on Saturday I got some Christmas shopping done, dropped and picked Solly up at the groomer, did about 14 loads of laundry and 3 loads of dishes and made supper. Husband (bless him) grocery shopped on the way home after 10 hours at work.

Somehow in between and around all of this, we've grabbed a little time to make restful moments. I walked the dog down to the groomer in the morning while the kids lounged. I love that walk "into town." It's about 30 minutes - a good distance to stretch and unwind a bit. After tap lessons and picking up the dog I dropped over to my neighbour's house for a glass of wine and a chat. In the evening, as tired as he was, husband came to daughter's Christmas recital. We held hands in the dark. Our daughter sang so well. This was her first time in a duet, singing the harmony. She remembered her notes and choreography and looked like she was having a great time. She sang "Perfect Christmas," now on my list of favourites just because.

During her rehearsal I ran over to the mall. I bought us a new board game to enjoy over the Christmas holidays. Games make us stop and play as a family. Usually we need all 4 of us to make it work, and we have a lot of fun. This one is called Mad Gab. It looks very silly.

Then at the show, the stage manager invited me to join the stage crew of Beauty and the Beast (daughter's spring show). To be asked is a total honour - only trusted and reliable people are asked to work backstage. I thanked her and told her I'd think on it. I think I'll have to pass for this year and see about the next year. I've already made a commitment to our son that we will work together as volunteers for our NDP candidate during the provincial election. The show is late April, so that wouldn't work out very well. I'd like to be able to do both, but I don't think I can without stretching too thin.

Today we'll go to church in the morning, something that takes time but is pretty much like exercise as far as time and energy goes. Invest 90 minutes in worship and gain courage and re-invigoration enough for the next few days. I never regret taking time to go.

Daughter has rehearsal again all afternoon (Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat opens on Thursday). While she's there I need to help our son with a science project, but I think there will also be time to take the dog for a walk again. I hope my husband will be home by that time so we can go together. Supper is frozen pizzas so instant yummy. Oh yeah, I have to work on my wine, but I can do that while I help my son with science. Wine-making is a lot of "do this for 2 minutes then go away for 15, come back and repeat."

So I guess what I'm meaning to say with all of this is that a variable speed mom can find time to power through what needs to be done and also stop and smell the mandarin oranges. (I can still smell those just fine!)

Question: am I crazy?

mompoet - zero to sixty and back again, wait five minutes and repeat

View with Discretion

Church rocks! (part 2)

Fourteen year old soon went to the church last night for a new youth group that our minister is starting. They planned a Christmas party for later this month. They are going to watch Saved. If you don't get invited to a progressive church youth group party this December, it's definitely worth renting at the video store.

I like it, I like it!

Question: Ever make a choice that you discovered was even better than you thought?

mompoet - all-is-welling

What the Holly Hill is a Quire?

Chestnuts roasting on an open fire,
Jack Frost nipping at your nose,
Yuletide carols being sung by a QUIRE?

Come on! That has to be the lamest rhyme ever. I love Christmas carols (scroll down for a list of my favourites) but some of them were written by sub-poets at best.

Choir does not rhyme with fire any more than Jesus rhymes with cheeses or freezes. How about Christ and spiced? or Bethlehem and I've got phlegm? or mistletoe and This'll blow? or mincemeat and Grinch feet? I know these are not from real carols, but they are about as acceptable to me as fire and QUIRE.

My favourites:

Silent Night
Away in Manger - sung low to high, then high to low, or both at once (try to do that all by yourself)
We Wish You a Merry Christmas
The Twelve Days of Christmas (but only as a way to annoy people and find out how long they can smile through clenched teeth)
Oh Come All Ye Faithful
Rockin' around the Christmas Tree
Frosty the Snowman (but only with the extra Thumpity thump thump chorus)
The First Noel

Question: Do you tolerate or enjoy seasonal songs?

mompoet - humming Tanenbaum

Stupid Nose Cumin Bread

<>I’m an olfactory moron
Trapped in my own aroma-challenged hell
It’s worse than an allergy or eczema
You see…I don’t smell.

First thing Tuesday morning, I set things in motion a nice supper. Homemade soup simmering in the crockpot. Bread machine set up to pop out a loaf of pumpernickel at 6:30. I could hardly wait. Supper made and ready-to-eat when I come in the door is my idea of a happy end to a busy day. I left work a bit early and even had time to whip up a salad before we all sat down.

The soup was really yummy. We put sunflower seeds in the salad so it was crunch-licious. But the bread was a bit off. At first I couldn't figure it out. I don't make pumpernickel often because the kids don't like it. But still.

Then I realised. Instead of caraway seed I used whole cumin. My slice had a warm, cumin-y taste. Every bite got a bit warmer and spicier. Just drink milk or water with it and it's okay, but not what you expect from pumpernickel. MMMMPPHHH.

My darn nose has not worked right since I got Graves Disease about 3 1/2 years ago. Graves is an auto-immune disease that screws up your thyroid. It did all kinds of whacky things to me, and now I'm better. But I have gone from being an awesome smeller to a sheer idiot when it comes to aromatic identification. I miss knowing with my eyes closed it that's an apple or a pear. I worry that I have something on my shoe and I'm the only one who doesn't know it. I miss how good smelling makes tasting feel. I miss smell memories. I still get flashes of brilliance. Earlier this week I was walking down an elementary school hallway and I smelled a mixture of lemon and carnation and lavender that made me think of a summer day in the back yard in a house where we lived in South Vancouver when I was 6. It smelled like sunshine and lying in the grass and looking at the sky and having nothing to do. Maybe it was someone's perfume, but I don't think so. It smelled real. Maybe it was an olfactory hallucination, like when people lose a limb and feel phantom pain. I don't know.

I can still remember how a lot of things smell, and I occasionally experience exquisite congruity between an object or being and the smell I perceive. Most of the time smells are pretty much what they should be only duller, and occasionally they are way off the mark. I haven't brushed my teeth yet with Prep H, so I guess I'm doing okay.

Question: What! Did you think I actually own Prep H? HHHHHMMMMPPPHHH!!!

mompoet: blundering with nostrils agape

Anyone can do Anything if He or She Knows ehow

I was doing a web search for summer camp themes and stumbled across the funniest website I've seen in a few days. I just love its ambition and cheery pragmatism. Gosh, there's a 7 bullet answer to any problem. For example:

My dog is having puppies right now. What can I do?

I have a sudden yearning to write a sestina. I wonder how to do that?

My reputation is besmirched. I need a quick and easy way to restore my good name.

I like Robert, but he just ignores me when I try to makes friends. I'll do anything to get him to like me!

The best parts are the chippy little tips at the end of each short instruction list. Guess which tip goes with which problem...

• If companionship is your goal, consider a dog. They're better company and more reliable than a person whose friendship can be bought.
• Mention the rumors in a direct but nonconfrontational way: "Burt, I heard that some folks think I am having an affair with Helen in graphics. I'm sure you know there's no truth to the matter."
• Stage two of labor begins with full dilation of the cervix and ends with full delivery of the first puppy. Stage three begins after delivery of the first puppy and ends with the expulsion of the placenta.
• Do not be discouraged by peers claiming to be poets. When you hear a poet say how much he or she dislikes writing in form, remember that a great artist sees the opportunities in every canvas, regardless or shape or size. A poor artist sees only the limitations.
  

No more worrying about life's problems, big or small. Just consult ehow.com

Question: No need, I can ask ehow!

mompoet - stepping toward Stepford

Sunday Morning

I had planned to sit with coffee and the newspaper and wear pajamas as long as possible. But it was not to be. There I was, reading the New York Times online, when I looked up to see a worried face peering in my kitchen window. Shady the dog was back.

Shady first showed up in our neighbourhood this summer. She escaped from her house several times in June and July. We're not sure where she lives, but one of the neighbourhs had her family's phone number, so we'd call them and they'd get her. After a while we didn't see her again. Her owner said they were building a fence, so I figured the problem was solved.

Shady is a labrador cross. She's so shy she looks like she's black. Somehow she looks smaller and is harder to see than she really is. Really she's a dark brown with soft brown eyes. She wouldn't let me near, backing off each time I came over to her. I knocked on my neighbour Sue's door. Sue is a veterinary technician and has a legendary way with nervous creatures. Sue lured Shady in with some dog treats and lovey talk, and got my dog's leash on her. There we were, two moms in our pajamas with coats over, talking about what to do with this dog. Kirsi, who has her family's phone number, was out of town. I took Shady to my house and called the SPCA and Animal Shelter. I knew Kirsi got her number from one of those places.

SPCA had never heard of her. Shelter knew her, but wouldn't give me her number. Shady wore no license, had no ID tag and had no ear tattoo (in the time she spent here she warmed up enough to accept some cuddles, and allowed me to look inside her ears). Shelter said they'd come for her, and they'd call her family to fetch her.

I set Shady up with some of Soleil's food and a bowl of water, and gave her a blanket for a bed. In no time, Sara from the Shelter was here and took shy Shady away. I felt guilty giving her up, but I know her family never came to look for her before until we called them, so we couldn't keep her here and wait. Sara told me she was a frequent visitor to the Shelter. Thinking about how scared she must feel to get away from home like that and be captured by strangers and taken away in a van, I wanted to keep her and make her our dog. I wish her family would appreciate her enough to build a fence or lock the door, or whatever they need to do. I hope she'll be okay.

Question: Why get a dog if you won't take care of it?

mompoet - suppressing urges to rescue everything that is not perfectly happy

Noises Off Again

My birthday weekend of abundant bliss continued with a performance of Noises Off at the Vancouver Playhouse. It was so funny! I've seen it once before about 20 years ago, but I didn't remember much from the first time. It is lightweight but hilarious. It's on until mid-December and well-worth seeing. I love to laugh. I laugh a lot and loudly. This was one of those rare occasions when I wasn't the laugh-loudly-est person in the joint. That's a treat!

Also, my husband bought me a cd player for my car. Now I don't have to tape cds to listen to them on the cassette deck. My husband likes to have all of the latest electronic gadetry. I resist buying just about anything but the basics because I feel overwhelmed by stuff. But he convinced me I would like this, and I do. Now I have to start my own collection of cds for my car. I listen to a lot of music by default, and enjoy mostly everything. Now I have my own sound in my own space. This will be fun.

Then we went out for supper at Rosa's. Gosh, it was yummy. We had to wait about 45 minutes for a table, but it was worth it. The meal was very good and pretty reasonable and Rosa is a doll. She cooks and serves and runs the place and chats with everyone at their tables. When she found out we frequent Pappagallo's she insisted that her cheesecake is better than her sister-in-law's and brought us a chunk. It was very, very, very good. We will definitely go back.

My friends brought me beautiful presents. Kathy gave me all the fruity soap I could ever need for about a year from the Body Shop and some new pieces for my tacky Christmas pin and earring collection. Michele gave me a soft and lovely pair of lounging pajamas. We three are friends since grade 4 and have been celebrating birthdays together forever. It's tradition for the birthday girls to give presents too, but they have to be unusual. I gave my friends each a silicon spatula. Last year, Michele gave us welding gloves. Once I gave them screwdrivers. We are stuck together by some weird glue, all right.

So now I'm sitting here in my lounging pajamas, skipping church and finishing this entry so I can go read Saturday's paper. I am the luckiest, happiest, noisiest, birthday treatsy-est person you could imagine right now.

Question: How'd I get so lucky?

mompoet - appreciating

Birthday Cake Binary Style

On the cake my mom baked and my dad lit:

six candles in a row
first, second, fourth and sixth candles lit
third and fifth not lit
= 43 without burning down the house

yes, we are weird, but we like it

Question: How old do I have to be to need a 7th candle?
(Don't answer Dad. I know you know.)

mompoet - warmful and sleepy and loved

What it's like when I'm not here

I took off from work just after lunch to attend parent teacher interviews at the secondary school (all good - yeahh!) then came home by about 2pm. It was interesting to observe what happens in this house on a weekday afternoon. Normally I have the early hours with the kids and pets. I get everyone out the door then head out to exercise then get to work around 9:30 or 10. By the time I get home, everyone is here, supper's on, and likely one or more are heading back out the door soon to whatever happens that evening. I usually work through a couple of nights a week and don't get home until 9 or later. Two to 6pm on a Thursday is very mellow at my house. Husband accepted the cup of tea that I offered, watched a bit of Orange County Chopper (I think that's what it's called) then took the dog out for a long walk. The cat ignored everyone and slept at one corner of the couch. Son retreated to the basement where he alternated between Nintendo and something on TV. Daughter got home and hugged me like finding me here was the best treat she could have had (that was sure nice!) then put on her tap shoes and put a board down and clackety-clacked for half an hour. I washed floors and vacuumed and emptied wastebaskets, then cooked supper. Various people read various newspapers. Everyone took a turn on the internet. It was nice. I could get used to working half days. Hey, I would actually see my husband when he is awake! I could spend time with my kids when they are not shower/breakfast/backpack/wherearemysocks?ing or being herded up to bed around 10. I could cook sit down meals start to finish on other than Saturday/Sunday nights. I could walk the dog in the winter without carrying a flashlight and see the cat wake up. My floors might get vacuumed/washed twice a month rather than once (I do not exaggerate).

I guess there'll be a time for that, but probably when this house is not nearly so busy as it is now. For now, I'll try to sneak home early more often.

Question: what else happens when?

mompoet - craving omniscience

Good thing...

pomegranates taste better than chocolate
chocolate is actually good for you
you have stuck with this for 3 lines (might as well read to the end)
three yellow lines (with red on them) mean even thinking about passing is illegal
illegal is still what marijuana will be but not criminal
criminals who make it to reality tv are so stupid
stupid people will be eliminated by natural selection because they watch reality tv instead of having sex
sex with the tv on is possible but not recommended
recommending a chinese restaurant to a friend is possible but not always a good idea
a good idea is worth sharing credit for
credit for groceries means you are having serious difficulty
serious difficulty usually occurs when something is not a good idea or really worth doing
doing anything is better than doing nothing
doing nothing is incomprehensible when you see someone doing something reprehensible
reprehensible behaviour is still less acceptable than pointless pondering
pointless pondering is a good way to unload
unloading mental contents promotes sleep
sleep comes when the pillow sings
pillows sing beautiful songs at the end of the day
the end of the pillow is a day long
a long day is the pillow of a night
pillow night night day pillow
tra la la
pil la pil
la

Question: nzzzt?

mompoe - tired

Correction

358/365 = 0.980821917... , but 359/366 = 0.980874316... . 2004 is a leap year and it's after February 29.

That's my dad, who read my last post and offered some help with my math.

Question: Do you think he loves me??

mompoet - supported by strong walls and soft arms

42.9808219

One week until my 43rd birthday. I love my birthday. I have fun. Here's what I know so far...

I will be 43. My husband just turned 47. We are both prime numbers this year. Our ages combined make 90, which is an insignificant but large number. You may know already that I plan to remain 43 until I turn 47. It's not that I don't want to get older. I'm just going to be only prime numbers from now on, or perhaps numbers divisible by pi, but I'll have to take a while to work that second idea out, and even longer to explain the concept to people, so I'll stick with prime numbers for now.

I will eat a lot of good food. Mom's cooking Thai food and baking a cake. Couple of lunch and suppers out. My friend Louise and I celebrate just 5 days apart, and we've lunched at the same restaurant for 18 years. (Oh gosh, now I'm really starting to sound like Rain Man.)

Big yummy supper with my husband and a couple of other couples who I birthday with every year. Kathy turned 43 in May. Michele turned 43 in January. I'm the baby. We've known each other since Grade 4. Lucky for our husbands that they like each other too. We're going to try Rosa's in Port Moody. Rosa is sister to Pat who owns Pappagallo's in Burnaby. Rosa's is in the little house that used to be Johnny's Place, but now it has curtains. If it's not raining, we can walk there from our house.

I'll bake myself a big fat chocolate cake and take it to work. That's our office tradition. If you don't want a fuss you don't get one, because you have to bring your own fuss. I always do.

It will snow before then. It always snows a day or two before my birthday. Not a lot, but enough to run outside and yell and get snow-faced and slip and slide around and watch the dog try to bite the air, and listen to the kids fantasize school closing in the morning.

I will get lots of cards. I always get lots. I love cards.

At least one person will sing to me.

I will remember how lucky I am to still feel goofy like a kid when my birthday comes. I think my soul is very young. I'm grateful for my curiousity, persistence, energy, creativity and enjoyment of absurdity. Fun is fun is fun and there's something fun or funny about most things. My birthday is the most fun.

Question: When's your birthday?

mompoet: counting belly-button growth rings

ps

Found the pants. Went Friday directly after work. Mission accomplished.

Well, there are shoes and a shirt still to be found, but they are minor objectives. The tricky part is done. No casualties, 75 minutes total mall time. All is well.

Question: pants?

mompoet: born not to

Fine Day

Irene and I went to the Pandora's Collective Poetry Reading at the Culture Crawl on Saturday. It was lovely. Bonnie and Sita have things set up for a gorgeous, intimate experience. The reading/musical lineup is spectacular. It's on all day Sunday, so if you happen to read this posting fresh and early, try to get there.

Pandora's is set up in 1200 Parker Street - a giant industrial building now full of artists' studios. You'll need to go to the third floor, studio 330. It's well worth the adventure through labyrinthine hallways. If you suffer from claustrophobia or paranoia about escaping from a building in a fire, or if you have a wild imagination about lights going out or being trapped in creepy empty places at night, you will be uncomfortable. But sometimes that is fun too.

Irene and I read at 1 on Saturday. We each began with only half a dozen in the audience, but people were drawn to the room by the words floating out into the corridor. That was neat. Irene read a bunch of her "weirds." "Til the Rich Lady Sings" was a particular hit. We were all yelling "AROOOOOOO!" even later in the afternoon during a gorgeous musical set by Melic Thrum. I did a mishmash of stuff and debuted my new "midlife part 2." We saw quite a few friends there, including my Mom and Dad who surprised me by showing up, and Helmi from Shoreline Writers, who wins the prize for travelling for culture. Now I know that she drives into Vancouver from Whonnock for: Friends of Chamber Music, Vancouver Film Festival and East Side Culture Crawl. Don't sell all suburb-dwellers short. We know how to go to the city!

Mom and Dad invited my husband and me out for Szechuan supper after as a belated 20th anniversary treat (ours, not theirs). Yummmmy - us not supper. Well, supper too.

All in all it was fine day. I am blessed to have opportunities like this.

Question: so, are you afraid in big old places?

mompoet: ARRRROOOOOOO!!!!

Psycho Class for Endorphin Addicts

Hi, my name's mompoet. I'm an endorphin addict.
I am admitting today that I have been hooked, once again by the cardio-craving, sweat-savouring, adrenalin-chewing bug. I'm not running or aerobicizing. I'm going to studio cycle classes.

The setting is great for us closet oxygen-gobblers - dark room, loud music, everyone clipped into bikes facing the front of the room. We pedal pedal pedal until we explode. At the front of the class, our endorphin-pusher urges us to go faster, pedal harder, INCREASE THE TENSION!!!!

Actually, it's not as bad as that, but it is weird. Who'da thunk anyone would go into a room full of exercise bikes and pedal hard for an hour, with loud music playing and a leader urging you on to stand up, sit down, hover, sprint, long-hard-uphill? The first 2 or 3 times I tried it I thought it was awful, but everyone else seemed to be doing great so I persisted. Then it clicked. I figured out the body positioning, bike adjustments and how to pace myself, then I was one of them - the manic stationary cyclists. This has to be the hardest workout I have ever done, and it is great. I would never, ever crank the tension on the bike in the weight room and pedal standing up for 5 minutes to simulate climbing Mt. Seymour. I would never sprint like some Tour de France racer. I would never keep it up for an hour. I would never laugh or sing along or shout encouragement to someone across the room who is taking her turn to sprint. But in the class it seems natural and it works. When I finish, I am drenched and energized and I feel like I could do just about anything. I go a couple times a week when I can fit it into my schedule. I'm still walking and weight-lifting throughout the week. It's all at the community centre too - inexpensive and friendly. So I'm feeling better heading into 43 than I was when I was turning 42 or 41 or even 40. Yeah!

Question: what's your weird but good?

mompoet: thighs like tree trunks

Culture Crawl...not the Mall

My friend Irene and I will perform at the Pandora's Collective Poetry place, part of the East Side Culture Crawl. We'll be at 1000 Parker, 1-2pm on Saturday. I've never been to the Culture Crawl before, so I'm looking forward to it for more than just the poetry. Looks like there will be a lot of very interesting art.

I hope that I will have time to crawl around a bit. Daughter wants me to come straight home after and take her out. She needs new everything for her December shows. Her dress pants and shoes are too small, and she wants to wear the same shirt as her singing partner, so they must go shopping together. I'm sure if I chose matching original hand-painted silk shirts for her and her 12 year-old friend and brought them home from some artist's studio, they'd think I was weird and groan and roll their eyes and stuff. They want me to take them to the mall. Home of The GAP (in judgement) and Old Navy (bean soup). Which I hate. Especially this time of year. They should send people who do bad things to the mall and make them stay there longer, the worse it was what they did. But I love my daughter, and while my husband is still the champion at buying her running shoes, the rest of the clothes shopping is now a mother-daughter experience. Ugggg.

I would never go to the mall unless I absolutely had to.

Question: What place do you avoid?

mompoet: nada shoppa

Whether Report

I walk the dog every morning, sometime between 6 and 7:30. This morning it was 7. The ground is still wet with heavy dew, but there's frost on the rooftops for the first time since last winter. Car windows aren't yet frozen, but that'll come soon I'm sure.

Checklist:

Hiking boots GOOD
Sweaters LOTS - THANKS TO MOTHER-IN-LAW WHO BUYS AND SHRINKS
Winter Coat YUP
Gloves and hat GLOVES FINE - STILL LOOKING FOR A HAT THAT FITS
Snow Tires GOTTA DO THAT!!!
Car Scraper YUP
Work at Home Box START TODAY

Living on a hillside and valuing life and limb over compliance with arbitrary schedules, I pack work home in a box on winter evenings so if it snows overnight, I can work from home the next morning. Transit's good where I live, but most meetings get cancelled on snowy days, and with email and voicemail it's possible to function by remote control for a day or two when necessary.

I know it probably won't snow in earnest until January, but there's always that first sloshy few centimetres sometime before the end of November. And that's the day that everyone goes nuts and slides off the road and predicts doom and gloom. I like to stay home that day and avoid joining the hysteria.

Question: what would it be like if I lived in Ontario?

mompoet: west coast wussing

Fish-chronicity

Why do things always happen in weird clusters? On Thursday I took the kids to see Shark Tale. I didn't know that it was about a vegetarian shark who dresses in dolphin drag until I got there. It was kind of cute, but too much like Shrek underwater to be really exciting.

Now today I read in the paper that PETA has begun a campaign to convince people that fish are as smart as non-human primates, so of course we shouldn't eat them. Check it out.

I'll have to stay tuned and pay attention. Three's the magic number. So if a can of tuna falls on my foot today, I'll know there's a message meant for me.

Question: in a brook or in the pan?

mompoet - who lists sushi as her "desert island" food

Time for a Movie

I was 13 years old when my Mom took me to see One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. It was restricted, so she had to sign me in. I will never forget it. I had not seen a movie like it before. I was frightened. I laughed. I was shocked. I was sad and angry at the end, but also full of hope as I watched the Chief disappear into the mist. Images from the movie have stuck with me through all of those years. Of course I read the novel immediately afterwards. It was one of those few times that I felt like the film lived up to the book. I still think of it as one of the best movies I have ever seen.

Somehow, a couple of weeks ago, my 11 year-old and I got into a conversation that led us around to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. I can't remember if she was questioning me about the meaning of some reference to it on Futurama or the Simpsons or if we were talking about mental illness and institutions...Anyway, I decided we should watch this movie together. So I rented it on Friday. It's a 7-day dvd rental now.

On Friday evening my daughter was reluctant to watch it. My husband advised her that it was really an adult movie, so she needed to be ready for some harsh scenes that might be hard to watch. I didn't push it. On Saturday evening I decided to watch it myself, and let her choose. She was right there. For part of the movie she crawled into my arms on the couch, and she asked questions all the way through - about which characters were "committed" and which "voluntary" and who's girlfriend Candy was. She was sorting out a lot of mature ideas and concepts but she kept up pretty well. She noticed that there was no music except for during the credits at the beginning and end, and the music that the nurses played on the ward on that old record player to keep the patients docile. She said, "I've never seen a movie with just the real sounds and quiet when everyone is quiet." It made me realise again how special and different this movie is. I was delighted to see that the story appealed to her quirky sense of humour and to her sturdy sense of justice and intense insistence on qualities of humanity. You know that feeling when someone you love loves something you love and you say "yeah!" That was there.

I loved watching it again. My daughter liked it very much. I'm glad my Mom took me to see it. I'm glad I watched it with my daughter.

Question: 21st Century rite of passage?

mompoet: soaking up the good stuff

Help a Fellow Bean

There's a fundraiser tomorrow, Saturday November 13, noon to 11pm at Myles of Beans Restaurant on Kingsway at Edmonds Street in Burnaby. This is a great little neighbourhood coffee house that has served the community and welcomed artists and community people for years. There's rarely a night when some performance or fundraiser isn't happening at Myles'. It's a warm, friendly stopping place for people who work and live in one of the toughest and sweetest neighbourhoods in Burnaby, a neighbourhood that is now undergoing gentrification with a boom in upscale housing and corporate offices and re-development of the local shopping centre. Starbucks has just opened down the street, and recently Myles was robbed of $1,000. The fundraiser is a chance for all of us who appreciate the place and the people to help keep this business afloat. There will be music and poetry and a raffle. Please come if you can.

Question: What do you know that's worth saving?

Mompoet - dreading the day that the world is owned by Starbucks, Chapters and Microsoft (yeah yeah yeah, I know, the weapons manufacturers too)

Compensating for Cold

I dreamed that I was walking in shallow, cold water, at the edge of a lake. My friend was swimming, but I didn't want to join her. Closer to the shore the water was more shallow and not so cold on my feet, but there were sharp rocks. Deeper in, my legs were swallowed by chilly water but the bottom of the lake was smooth sand.

I woke up wearing warm red pajamas, snuggled between flannel sheets. The furnace had turned itself on with a timer. I made coffee. Porridge is cooking. Dog waits under the table. She'll let me tuck my slippered feet under her soft furry tummy while I read the paper. Cat rubs my leg. Children have not surfaced from under duvets. There are compensations for the cold.

Question: How much of each is right?

Mompoet: safe and slow starting

Help for those of us still Mourning the Outcome of the U.S. Election

I sure am, but this helped. You have to scroll down and press play, but it's worth it.

Question: why why why why why why? (ok, it's a rhetorical question)

Mompoet: why

History of the World

The true story of the sphinx (according to Weebl and Bob).

Question: Pbbbllllttt?

mompoet - too tired and sweaty to write anything, but happy to share a joke

Remembrance Sunday

Church rocks.

Okay, before you think I am some gooney Christian-fundamentalist smiley-faced la la, hear what happened at St. Andrew's United Church in Port Moody today.

It's Remembrance Sunday, so we honoured all of the veterans who are in our congregation and all of the veterans who are loved by the people in our congregation. Best of all, Mary Duncan, our new minister, delivered a totally direct and vivid sermon about war and our part in taking responsibility for peace. She read stories told by soldiers from the second World War and the Gulf War and criticized George W. Bush for professing to be a man of God but acting in a very ungodly manner with respect to peace. The scripture reading included Luke:

This is Jesus talking:

"But I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you. "

I thought about this afterwards and realised it means not only to love Iraquis and Al Quaida, but also to love George Bush. I'm still working on the personal responsibility part. What can I do here in my home with my family in Port Moody to really help promote world peace?

For starters we can try to teach our children to value love and peace and to make those values part of their decision-making and problem solving. The best way to teach this is to model it. Also, we can speak out against policies that promote violent solutions to local and world problems. We can also honour those veterans who walk in the parade on Thursday and thank goodness we did not have to see what they saw and do what they did.

I cried in church today. I felt very sad, even shocked by the stories that Mary shared. But I also felt grateful to be part of a religious community that is a leader in Canada's peace movement, and to attend a place of worship where the real events of the world are made part of our worship and our instruction for everyday living.

That's all for now.

Question: When will we ever learn?

mompoet - somber

A Day about Nothing

Thinking about my November resolution, and having nothing terribly pressing on the agenda, I tried to do nothing for a day.

I rose at 7, but stayed in pajamas until 11:30, reading Friday's and Saturday's newspapers, drinking coffee and eating waffles. I did check email, post a journal entry and make waffles, but that was it. At 8:15 I had to hold onto the edge of the table and will myself not to dress and run out the door to a studio cycling class at the rec. centre. But I made it. Phew! The power of an endorphin addiction is really something.

After taking a shower I took the dog for a long, slow walk at noon. Then I cooked lunch and ate with the kids, who were also in slo-mo mood. My husband was still asleep, having worked overtime through Friday night. After lunch I made a list of all of the chores, errands and housecleaning that need to get done. Then I put the list away.

I worked a bit on my two new poems...still picking through recycling bins and junk discarded along the roadway of my psyche, but it's stuck down on paper so I can do something with it when it gels. I made a couple of friendly phone calls and checked email once more. A day that is normally very quick began to slow down. From where did all of this time come?

My daughter had to watch Remember the Titans for a school assignment (watch the movie and write a paragraph on one character explaining why he or she is a good leader). So I made a cup of coffee and sat on the couch and watched the whole darn thing. Husband got up and joined us.

There were balls of dog fur on the floor, a pile of bills waiting to be paid, diminishing stocks of home-made wine running up to Christmas, Halloween decorations still on display in the carport. I did nothing about any of them. At supper time I re-heated pizza and chicken wings from Friday's supper for the kids, then took my husband out for a birthday supper at The Flying Fish Cafe. When we got home I did not make up for my laziness by picking up even one sock off the floor. I stayed in my nice "out for supper" clothes until early bedtime and continued to do nothing.

It was nice. Nobody died. The family really enjoyed seeing me not as a blur. We talked and relaxed. I can do this.

So maybe I will try to have a nothing day once a month for starters. Maybe I can even fit in two for November. There's a long weekend coming up, after all.

Question: If a mom sits stills, does anybody hear her?

mompoet: slightly de-velocitized

What it's Like

Sometimes, writing a poem is like giving birth or falling in love. It's hard, exciting, wonderful, follows a semi-predictable progression. It's intense and certain to yield results of a particular kind.
Sometimes it's like making waffles. There's a recipe. Skill counts. Practice helps. It's not exciting, and there are few epiphanies, but it works just fine.
Sometimes it's like making a friend, more of a gentle adventure but possibly including fireworks.
Sometimes it's like sleepwalking - hypnogogic visioning or auto-writing. Maybe there's channeling, maybe it's divine inspiration or demonic possession. More likely just engaging pathways that are usually operating only in the background.
Sometimes it's like looking through the dumpster for something that might have been thrown in there by accident. Crap and crud pile up, but you sense it's worth it to keep looking. You're going to need a shower and a uhaul at the end.
Right now I'm working on one like that. It doesn't even feel like an important poem - more comedic that grave. But there must be something there, I think, as I go back to the dumpster.

Question: What's it going to be like today?

mompoet: also making waffles (literally)

New Blue

Well, it's not an extreme makeover (thank goodness), but it is a new look. I hope you like it. Maybe tomorrow I will think of something interesting to say. In the meantime. This it it. TA DAHHH! Really, that's all. We can go now.

Question: which?

mompoet: blank

Proud Mama

Eleven year-old daughter phoned me at work today to tell me that they did fitness testing at school. Out of all of the Grade 6 girls in the school, she can throw a basketball the farthest. This is doubly delicious for me because I was a giant p.e. avoider and still can't throw anything much or far anywhere. I'm so glad she has not inherited my ineptitude (whether it's genetic or attitudinal).

Then she found out that her reading score is 4th year university level. That's no surprise. She reads stuff that I enjoy. She was tickled to see it officially scored, though.

She is an artist/writer/actor/singer good friend and ambitious envisioner. I'm pretty darn proud of her.

Fourteen year-old boy child came to the office with me on Wednesday. It was national "Bring our Kids to Work Day." He sat perfectly nicely and with quiet enthusiasm through a 2-hour seminar on Korean Culture, then talked with me about it all the way back to the office. After lunch he helped input programs with our automated registration system. His big thrill was helping me proofread my own computer work. He found tons of mistakes and fixed them. Then he asked me, "Will the kids who come to these programs know that I prevented lots of problems and confusion by doing this work today?" I said nope, it's quiet glory we rec. programmers enjoy, working behind the scenes. The guy with the ball and whistle is always the hero. He was okay with that. Actually, he was so helpful I'm considering asking him to bus over to my office a couple of afternoons each month after school to help me. It will do us both good.

Finally, he offered to fix my computer mouse at my office desk, which seemed to have lost its ability. What was inside? one very clean mouse ball plus a giant bread crumb. Ooops, that's what happens when I go to the gym for lunch and eat a sandwich at my desk. Good thing it wasn't sushi or a samosa, huh? Honest. I do not use my snacks as mouse pads.

Amazing husband is 47 years old today. He's had lots of calls and cards, and we're about to eat a yummy supper at home together. I met him when he was 18. He's holding up great! (Don't tell him I said that).

Question: What makes you beam?

mompoet: happy to be me

Good Show

I saw Take a Breath at the Roundhouse last night. It was very good. It's on through Sunday and worth catching (oops bad pun).

I had always thought of community theatre projects as reheated Broadway musicals or awkwardly-rendered one acts, but this is something new. The show was developed by people in the neighbourhood, led by the Roundhouse's artist in residence, Valerie Methot.

The thirty actors in the show are all ages and from many different backgrounds with very different experiences in the theatre and in life. Each one brings a one minute "piece" to the show, and also works to support the others in their presentations. There's song, dance, creative movement, poetry, even a version of the Snow White story. It is immediate, exciting and real.

Tickets are just $10 in advance or $12 at the door. Don't count on the latter though. I bet this will sell out for the rest of the run. It's short too, just about an hour and a quarter. You should go.

Question: How would one minute of your life look/sound/feel on stage?

mompoet: uncurling

November Resolutions

It's a good time to start new things in November. September is just too distracting with things that have to start at that time. January is too cliche and inclined to guilt and denial type resolutions. My birthday is at the end of the month, so there's a natural milestone here for me. Last year I began weight-lifting on November 15. Three years ago I was baptized in November. I'm pondering whether I should start something new, or give up something I don't need anymore now that my arbitrary fresh page month has come again.

If I could put my finger on one thing I would like to change in my life right now, it's that I'm so darned busy. I am scheduled up from 6am until 9 or 10 most nights. Most of it is stuff that I love to do, and that I believe does some good in the world. But almost every day I feel like I am neglecting many of my commitments by rushing past and through things without stopping to listen, reflect, savour. The outcome of this is that I look back on yesterday or last week or a few hours ago and wish I'd done something differently. Maybe if I had taken a bit more time to consider and actually be there when it was happening, I would not have so many small regrets.

Maybe also I am addicted to experience. How can I say no to things that will be interesting, challenging, stimulating, beneficial to me and to others? I have this amazing energy and don't often feel tired. When I try to sit down and breathe out, I just bounce up again and start doing something. I have a really good on/off switch, but sometimes a dimmer switch would be mighty useful. You should see my husband and kids, snuggled up watching tv, talking to the cat, reading a book, and I'm writing/charging up and down the stairs/talking on the phone/cooking/cleaning/organizing/repairing. Then I run out the door. They must think I'm nuts, and I know they wish I'd stop and sit down with them more. I am hard to trap. I do sleep very well and instantly every night. Six or 7 hours seems to do me just fine during the week. I grab a couple extra on the weekend, but I get to thinking about things I could be doing, and BOING! I'm up.

And in case you know me very well and you are wondering. I had my thyroid level checked last month and it is perfectly normal. It seems I am definitely well now, and medication-free for one whole year. So it's really and truly me charging around like this - not the disease.

If you have any suggestions about a concrete or introspective step that I could take as my November resolution, drop me a line. I like things pretty much the way they are, but why settle for over-the-moon when over-and-over the moon and stars and Mars is a possibility? Or is that the kind of thinking that got me into this happy mess?

Question: see above

mompoet - always in development

Tricks and Treats

Halloween night is quick and thorough here at our townhouse complex. The first kids knocked on our door at 5:20pm. Like always, we set up a table in the carport for the steady stream of ghosts, witches, dinosaurs, unicorns, princesses, Pippi Longstockings, robots, hippies, ninjas, pumpkins, tigers and Pooh bears. My husband bought 154 candies, and we ran out. Luckily a couple of neighbours pooled loot with us. We started out inviting the kids to take "one of each" but soon saw we'd be empty in no time, so we stretched it out to last until 7:30. Thank goodness - I'd hate to turn a kid away!

I served coffee and brownies and cookies for the parents as they came by. It's a tradition, and makes it more fun for sure. My neighbour was home alone handing out candies, but just before the fireworks she screamed up to our house on her bicycle to get a brownie. She said it wouldn't be Halloween without one.

At 7:30, trick-or-treating closes. Everyone goes down to the rec. centre for community fireworks. It's a fabulous display and prevents us all from setting our houses and trees on fire by doing it in our small back yards. My husband is one of the lucky volunteers who gets to stand up front with a blowtorch and set off a whole bunch of things that look like dynamite, all pooled by the neighbours. Boom boom boom boom ahhhhhhh!!!!

I think that Halloween is more fun than Christmas.

Question: What do you think?

mompoet - sparkling without chocolate (better not to start, eh?)

PS - Andy carved the gigantor pumpkin on its side, so the stem became its snout. Then he put a strobe light inside, instead of a candle. It was the best jack-o-lantern I've seen - except maybe "puking pumpkin." Well, maybe they are tied.

Dead People, Adolescent Cross-Dressers, Inverted Jack-O'-Lanterns and Dog Tumours

My daughter went to school on Friday in her Halloween costume. She's 11 years old and, in the past, has been a cow, a scarecrow, and Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. This year, she is "Little Dead Riding Hood." We found a jumper and sweater at Value Village and I sewed her a red, hooded cape. Then she took the scissors to the lot to simulate the results of a wolf attack. Some fake blood completed her look. It's gruesome and very effective.

Dead is probably the #1 theme in middle school costumes. I discovered this last year when our son was in Grade 8. Of course, there are ghouls and zombies and mummies and Jason and Freddy (didn't see any Tabithas, but I bet there were some). More popular though are dead cheerleaders. Last year and this year, Dead Cheerleader was the most popular Halloween Costume at Moody Middle, for girls and boys. Cross-dressing is a favoured at-school activity of 11-13 year old boys. They don't just do it at Halloween either. Last December's spirit assembly featured what I thought at first were 3 very homely girls doing totally manic cheer and dance routine, until I realised they were actually 3 of the best-liked grade 8 boys. One of the teachers confirmed it. "The boys all want to dress up like girls in middle school," she said. My daughter also reports that short boys are admired and sought-after. "Every short boy already has a girl friend. The girls like the little ones," she says. Anyways, there's potential for lots of research into adolescent psychology there in case anyone wants to look into it.

I took the dog to the vet. The tumours are mats of hair that have formed at the base of her ears. Five minutes and $43 dollars later the mats were shaved off and I was instructed in how to properly and regularly comb this sensitive area. The vet tried to comfort me with a story of another canine patient with a similar affliction. Thanks doc, I know, I'm still a beginner dog-person. Mostly I'm relieved that she's not sick.

We carved the pumpkins yesterday afternoon. Behemoth still awaits us in the garage, but the little ones are done. I thought I was so clever, opening mine at the base instead of the top, so the clean curve around the stem is preserved. But then I forgot to flip it right-side-up before I carved the face, so now I have an upside-down-jack-o'-lantern. Hmmm, actually, I kind of like it that way. Yeah! I meant to do that. Right.

By the way, add to your list of things not to do: Jack-o'-lanterns attract bears. Bring all pumpkins indoors after trick-or-treating so the bears are not attracted by the scent of parched pumpkin. It's all over the news. I don't mind disposing of the small ones on Halloween night, but I count on the boys with firecrackers to help get rid of monster pumpkin. If they don't blow it up I have to take an axe to it. It has to be reduced to liftable chunks before it can be put in the dumpster. Last year somebody stole it (all 80 pounds or so) and apparently took it up to the top of the fire road and rolled it down to the bottom - we found the smashed carcass there. I wonder how they got it to the top - you'd need a wheelbarrow, or maybe a skateboard?

So there's all that's weird enough to report for Halloween eve. Happy spooky weekend.

Question: Are you dressing up?

mompoet - gathering up candles and putting on warm socks

ps The middle school principal dressed up as Austin Powers - complete with teeth and English accent all day.

Now in British Columbia - 50% MORE NDP

Jagrup Brar won the Surrey by-election with a healthy margin, so we now have 3 NDP members in the legislature.

Congratulations to Mr Brar and the NDP party! It will be great for Jenny Kwan and Joy McPhail to have a 50% addition to their team. Their work in the legislature has been heroic over these past 3 years.

My son just asked, "What if in the election in May, the NDP gets elected with a majority, but we get stuck with a Liberal MLA in our constituency?" I told him I thought I could live with that but we'll try to do better.

Question: blip or sea change?

mompoet - fizzy

Day Off

I worked so many hours in the last two weeks that I have to take tomorrow off. It will sure feel good. Things are under control at the office, thanks in large part to the wonderful people with whom I work. And they'll be there tomorrow in case anything unexpectedly pops. So I'm not fretting about things left undone (although there are a few). I'm just going to enjoy the extra day this Halloween weekend.

I have 2 poems bumping around in my head, vying to be the first past the gate. I'll probably work on one or the other. I'm also going to the gym. I've missed a couple days with this week's crazy schedule. I'll do weights and the cycle class (or psycho class as I sometimes call it). It's really hard work, but the benefits are superb. Air tastes delicious to breathe all day long after I do one of those workouts.

Sol goes to the vet mid-afternoon, for those mysterious ear bumps. Then when the kids come home we'll carve pumpkins. Probably nest with a video in the evening. I am so tired, I just want to slow down to a halt. Well, I guess that's what I'll do right now. Get a good sleep. That way I can zip around and do all kinds of things on my day off.

Pillow is singing a song, "come hither...come hither...softy softy softttt..."

Question - zz?

mompoet - idling

Day Off

I worked so many hours in the last two weeks that I have to take tomorrow off. It will sure feel good. Things are under control at the office, thanks in large part to the wonderful people with whom I work. And they'll be there tomorrow in case anything unexpectedly pops. So I'm not fretting about things left undone (although there are a few). I'm just going to enjoy the extra day this Halloween weekend.

I have 2 poems bumping around in my head, vying to be the first past the gate. I'll probably work on one or the other. I'm also going to the gym. I've missed a couple days with this week's crazy schedule. I'll do weights and the cycle class (or psycho class as I sometimes call it). It's really hard work, but the benefits are superb. Air tastes delicious to breathe all day long after I do one of those workouts.

Sol goes to the vet mid-afternoon, for those mysterious ear bumps. Then when the kids come home we'll carve pumpkins. Probably nest with a video in the evening. I am so tired, I just want to slow down to a halt. Well, I guess that's what I'll do right now. Get a good sleep. That way I can zip around and do all kinds of things on my day off.

Pillow is singing a song, "come hither...come hither...softy softy softttt..."

Question - zz?

mompoet - idling

Later

That boy is ready. He knows more about the Declaration of Independence than I ever did.

The moon was spectacular, wasn't it? Orange as a pumpkin and almost totally wiped out, then revealed again. I missed the disappearing stage - inside at the dance.

The kids are just kids, young, energetic, faux-mysterious, anxious, jazzed, the teachers and admin people really care about them. I witnessed Principal and Vice Principal talking to a student outside as I left. There's respect and accountability happening in all directions there. My job was to make sure no students went into their lockers or down the stairs. The concern is that they will stash alcohol around the school during the day then go get it at night. I worked the early half of the dance then left before 8, so if there was any excitement, I missed it.

If #1 son decides to go to a dance I won't be worrying about his safety or if he's having a good time. His hearing may be temporarily impaired, but that's what teenagers do. My real concern is his heart. We teach our kids to be safe with sex and drugs and gangs, but what about love? The crush that crushes, the embarassment that overwhelms? I guess everyone goes through it and he will too. Watching the boyfriends and girlfriends strolling made my eyes prickle. I hope when his time comes the swoops will be worth the plummets.

Question: what's a mom to do?

mompoet - loving

Immunization, Poetry Prizes, Dog Tumours and Science Tests

That's about it for now.

mompoet - just kidding

Today I took Grade 6 daughter to the Health Unit for Hep B and Meningococcal C immunization. They handed those out en masse at the school yesterday, but some kids find it too embarassing to line up and get poked. Also, the big grade 7s and 8s punch grade 6s in the arm after they get their shots. The verdict after today's visit to the nurse and 1 in each arm? Easier than getting ears pierced. Well.

I just found out that I won second prize in the Summer Dreams Poetry Contest sponsored by Pandora's Collective. It's for my Venus de Milo poem. The winners are on the website, but the links to the poems don't work yet. I'll post the url when they do. I feel so happy and encouraged. I haven't sent anything out to a contest in a couple of years, so I'm doubly delighted. I had to squoonch the poem down to 40 lines - hard for 3-minute-me to do. I turned it into a prose poem, and it worked.

Soleil the big black dog has mysterious lumps, one at the base of each ear. Their symmetry makes me think it's glands or something, but they weren't there before. So off to the vet we go. She has been pretty much her usual self lately, except that she stole 6 bagels off the counter the other night while we were sleeping. Maybe they are bagel tumours - surgery will reveal poppy seeds and some raisins.

Grade 9 son has a science test Friday and a Socials test Thursday, so I'm helping with the study cards and review. They're studying energy in science - magnetic, mechanical, potential, kinetic, hypothetical, imaginary, gratuitous (ooops, not those last 3). In socials - English Parliament and the American Revolution. (?) okay, I know that's important, but what does it mean to grade 9s? Luckily my boy loves a good story, and has a good memory for all of these people and battles and successions. Maybe he'll take after his mom and study it in university too?

Oh yeah, also the High School Dance. Never went to many when I was there, but I'm volunteering tonight. Son is staying home (not interested). I want to find out what goes on there. I have discovered that any opportunity to be at the school when people are busy and not putting on an open house or a prepared meeting is a very good time to find out what it's really like. Snoop snoop snoop. I think my job will be to sit beside a door through which students are not to pass. Security-Mom at your service!

Question - what does any of this have to do with anything?

mompoet - trying to remember to look outside and see the moon in shadow tonight

Sppppoookkkyyy

We meant to decorate the carport on the weekend, but it was raining too hard, then we went out to the movie. I got the boxes out of the attic, but that's as far as we got.

Monday afternoon it was raining, but still light outside. With the prospect of a very busy week ahead and a free hour right now, I said "Let's do it." Son got lower braces added in the morning so he was moaning and taking ibuprofen and feeling pretty lousy. Daughter was studying for a science test before her rehearsal, so husband and I did the job.

In our neighbourhood the houses are close together. Carports adjoing and front yards are non-existent. We live on the street a lot, though. Everyone has deck chairs and bicycles in their carport. The kids play while the adults chat. Cats stroll, dogs are promenaded. Cars do the obligatory crawl or risk having a dozen voices call sternly "Slow down! There's kids out here!" It's a pretty people friendly street.

For all special days we decorate. Canada Day is a riot of real flags poking precariously off balconies and out of eavestroughs. Christmas is over-the-top. Good thing the tour buses haven't heard about us! Halloween is just goofy. There are more pumpkins assembled in our complex already than in the rest of the lower mainland. By Halloween night, more houses than not will have lights and lanterns and witches, bats and ghosts.

We own about 4 boxes of stuff we've accumulated over the years - mostly home-made by the kids, but also dollar-store novelty bits that husband-shopper has brought home. He hung up all of the electrical stuff while I did the lower-tech. It took us about 35 minutes, and the place looks like it. There's a scarecrow staple-gunned to a post and those goofy plastic bags stuffed with straw that look like ghosts and pumpkins (well, not really, but you get the idea) staple-gunned along the eaves. A row of "creepy masks" from Dover books finishes the non-electrical picture - oh yeah, there's caution tape too - Stay Back! Danger! Halloween House! For lights there are pumpkins, skulls, purple spiders, flashing pumpkins and black spiders. The actual pumpkin vegetables are still in hiding to avoid smashage. Our friends brought us another behemoth this year - must be 80 pounds. We'll carve the beast on Saturday (with a chain saw?) It's big enough to imprison a wolverine inside, but husband plans to put a strobe light in it. Cooooolllll.

What were two grownups doing outside on a drippy, cold Monday afternoon with a staple gun and boxes of tacky decorations? our neighbourhly duty? reliving childhood? unleashing stifled creativity? meaningless obligation? moon-crazy obsession? Whatever, it looks good when it's dark out.

Question: Did you?

mompoet - not likely to get hired for any display windows anytime soon

Blink

up,makebreakfast,walkdog,shower,drinkcoffee,checkemail,herdkidsthroughshower,
drivedaughtertochoirpractise,drivehome,letdogoutback(peedyesterdayonrug),loaddishwasher,
puticeskates&briefcase&coolerchestwithfundraisercookiesandpiesintrunk,tellsontoputon
shoesandbrushteeth,takedogoutbackagain,leave

drivesontoorthodontist,watchwhilelowerbracketsareputon,thanktechnicianandorthodontist,
encourageson("Goodjob!that'sallthehardpartsfinishednow!")dropsonoffatschool,drivetowork,
checkmail&email&voicemail,phoneclients,phonestaff,skating'scancelled-toobadwe'lltrynextweek,
listentofrontofficestaffcallingeachother"lardass"inloudvoiceswhileImakephonecalls,closedoor,
sendemails,sendfaxes,leavevoicemails-TAGyou'reit

checkifco-workerhasridetomeeting,goto$storetobuygiftbagIforgot,wrapgiftincar,getcellphone
voicemail(forgottoturnitbackonafterorthodontist),drivetoartgallery,meetbossandco-workers,
halloweenpotluck-BOO!yumyumyum

callofficecheckvoicemail,returncallsfrom(parked)car,day'sdoneat3YIPPEE,12hourdayslastweek
payoffrightnow,drivehome,checkhouse-dogkeptitallinsidetoday-YAY!letdogout,letkidsin,make
hotchocolateforkids,greetcat,greethusband,putlasagnainoven,callartscentretoregisterdaughterin
tapdancelessons,makehotchocolateforme,checkemail,doblog

pheewwokaysofar

question:getit?

mompoet - continuouslybeing

I am trying to love America

I am trying to think loving thoughts about America.

I am imagining that there is good intention, buried somewhere in the frenzy. I am assuming that the people who are preparing to badger and bully voters and senior citizens working at the polls in the name of democracy are doing it because of liberty, justice, and truth and not just because they are afraid they will lose some advantage.

I am thinking that there has to be more hope than fear, more generosity and idealism than isolationism, more love than distrust.

I am hoping that everyone will remember the definition of "society" that was taught to us in grade 9 social studies - something about people agreeing that taking care of everyone is more important than taking care of just one's self and one's own. I'm sure they teach that in American schools too.

I am hoping that fight or flight will not prevail, that pluralism doesn't translate into a civilization designed by a committee - just good enough to offend everyone equally, just bad enought to please nobody.

I am picturing America on election day, remembering what it was meant to be, being better than its promise, walking like a prayer.

I am trying to think loving thoughts about America.

Question: ???

mompoet - discouraged but still hopeful

Seth (and others) to the Rescue

Back at the Asset Building Conference today, I started talking to people at my table about my worries about this model of market-based poverty-reduction being used as an excuse to spend even less on income support for poor people. Lots of people were thinking the same thing. In the meantime, several of the presenters pointed out that asset-building programs like Individual Development Accounts (see my previous post if this sounds like Greek) are a complement to income assistance, affordable housing, public schools and universities, job training, universal medical care etc. So I was starting to feel better.

Then at the lunchtime panel (yup, they kept talking even while we ate lunch - no time wasted at this event) Seth Kline of the Canadian Centre for Policy Alternatives spoke. This turned my doubts around. Here's what Seth said, in a nutshell:

• While he agrees with many of the things that the asset-building people are saying, he is concerned that some governments will see asset-building as a substitute for social welfare systems and income support.
• The asset-building model is helpful only to a subset of those in need of assistance.
• Current social policies are in conflict with the asset-building approach and penalize people for saving money for a small business or education.
  
• He is skeptical about programs geared to fix policy mistakes. He sees some asset-building initiatives as less comprehensive and administratively more expensive replacements for good programs that have been eliminated. For example, learning bonds and RESPs are good, but don't replace accessible, affordable post-secondary education.

I was willing to turn my optimism up because the organizers of the conference invited Seth, knowing he would express this point of view. The rest of the speakers throughout the day referred to his remarks, agreeing with them, as they framed their comments and recommendations. At the end of the day, in the wrap-up, several speakers talked about the need for those at the forefront of the asset-building movement to ensure that asset-building is seen as just one approach in a continuum of services and supports for people in need.

I also ate lunch with VanCity and Western Economic Diversity representatives, and talked to them about the kinds of criteria their organizations consider in choosing which projects to support. What I heard was a sincere commitment to programs that initiatives that build strength in communities and strengthen the economy at the same time. Sure, they're doing it because it's good for the corporation, and good for the government, but it's good for the people too, which gives me a nauseous and disoriented feeling because I think if I look in the mirror there will be Gordon Campbell's head stuck on my body and it's still a week before Halloween. But maybe this can work, to some degree, and with some degree of real goodness.

I'm exhausted and overwhelmed, with a stuffed and stretched brain. I will sleep and go back for 4 more hours tomorrow, then it's over, but it's never over, really....

Question: Sincere good intention or slickety-smart PR move?

mompoet - not quite ready to buy the Brooklyn Bridge but willing to have a look