Happy Birthday mmmmMikaela!

I left the house of fever and grout for a few hours Friday evening. Went over to my friend's house. We'll call her Mikaela (she has asked that her real name not be used). We were joined by our good friend Kkkkk-Katya. Yup, we'll call her Katya. We three have birthday suppers together, usually at Casa Mikaela. This time it's Mikaela's birthday. She turns 44 first and sets the pace for Katya and me. Katya's birthday is in May, mine in November. (That is not a clue). By the way, if you're getting into this pseudonym thing you may call me ssss-Sabrina.

Anyway, we had some wine. Warning. You could put your head inside of one of Mikaela's wine glasses. So we have to be careful. We cooked supper together, which we like to do. Katya made yummy appies while Mikaela set up her thrift shop find: a real Vietnamese broth fondue cooker. It looks kind of like an angel food cake pan with extra pieces. You burn charcoal in a chamber in the middle, which heats broth to boiling with amazing speed. We cooked a bunch of different things in the broth: chicken, vietnamese meatballs, bbq duck and pork, tofu, and a whole bunch of veggies. We sat around and talked and stirred and ate and added more food, like you do with fondue. At the end we cooked shanghai noodles and had the soup with noodles. It was good. I made a peach crisp for dessert. We managed the mega-glasses fine too. Just 1.5 bottles of wine all night for three women.

I gave Mikaela Damien Rice O, which she doesn't have already (good!) Katya gave her an amazing metal-sculpture planter. Part of the tradition is that the birthday woman gives presents too. Mikaela gave us chenille socks, which are very cozy. We wore them right away. Also, she bought false eyelashes. So after supper we turned up the lights and sat at the table, trying to put on these eyelashes. Katya got a really fluffy pair. She was also very good at putting them on. She had watched her mom do it many times. You have to put this glue on them and carefully squeeze them onto your eyelid just abover your real lashes. Katya had a magnifying compact mirror and a steady hand. She looked very fluffy and dramatic, like Barbie. Then Mikaela put hers on. She got into it, which is very funny because she hardly ever wears makeup. She tried to use this awful "applicator" that came with the lashes, but looked more like something for plucking a chicken than getting up close to your eyeball. She got her lashes on and proceeded to do full makeup to find out what the whole effect would be. I had no mirror so I waited and stuck my lashes onto my wineglass and my forehead and my chin and upper lip for practice and basically laughed my head off for a long time while they worked at their beauty. My turn. I was awful at it. I looked like I just woke up, way too much, and you could see the gap between the fakes and my real lashes but I left them on to be a good sport. Then the glue started to dry and it felt horrible as it shrank like when you paint your face with watercolours and it starts to dry and crack. I put on my glasses and the lashes went bang bang bang like a moth trying to escape. Mikaela insisted we take them home and practice. I took mine home. I don't plan to practice. Once is enough.

Mikaela always wants us to try something that we have not done before. I think the eyelashes were pretty good. I think I'll probably get more use out of the socks, though.

question: how much glue can a lashline endure?

mompoet - natural-lashed

riddle

Q. What's warm and crunchy in the morning?
A. My nose.

Ewww yuk. Pass the tissues. Staying home from work today to prep painting and help with the last days of studying.

Question: no more (thank goodness)

mompoet - washing my face

I Grout a Little

Husband is now really sick. Kids are on the mend. Rhinos are still running in my nose, but I am functional. Tom came over to grout. Andy couldn't do it (putting your head down to floor level when you have a fever and a headache and a stuffed nose is not recommended). So I helped grout. Mostly I hauled buckets of water and washed sponges, but I got to smear the brown stuff around too. I didn't realise that's how it's done. You plop this pumpkin pie/clay consistency stuff onto the tiles and smear it diagonally, pushing it down in to fill the gaps. Honest it is like spreading odourless shit all over your floor, which is actually kind of fun. You try to keep smearing and pushing it into the cracks so as to leave a minimum on top of the tiles and maximize the crack-filling. When you're done you wipe and wipe and wipe to take the residue off the tiles. Now the floor looks good. Tom said I shouldn't have told him what I thought it looked like because he never thought of that. Oh well, he doesn't have kids. Grouting is honestly every 2 year-old's potty dream.

Question: Does enjoying grouting have Freudian implications?

mompoet - expulsive, yeah!

nose herd (a haichew)

rhinovirus herd
claw-hoofed nostril stampeding
nose drips rhino pee

question: chewww???

mompo-ssssnnnnbbblllttt-et - ka-ka-ka-ka (oh blast)

Sicky House

Daughter had a headache Friday night, which turned into a fever Saturday. She spent the weekend flat, watching videos, reading and feeling pretty sad. She was sick enough to stay home from school Monday. After 3 days with fever, I imposed a "recovery day" Tuesday. That means you stay home for one day after you feel better just to get your resources built up again, and just in case you're not really better yet. If you are bored on recovery day, then you are ready to go back to school the next day.

Meantime, son is watching his sister lie on the couch, be served apple juice, watch videos, get extra cuddles and miss school. He woke up Tuesday morning moaning and groaning, "I think I'm sick." I say "Yeah, okay. If you want a day at home that's okay. You've been working hard and you do have a bit of a cold. Just knock off the moaning and groaning." I go to give him a hug and sizzle! He's got a fever too. So he spent Tuesday lying around, justfiably moaning and groaning. Besides a headache and a fever he's having awful growing pains in his legs so he was uncomfortable lying still, but too yukky to get up and move around.

Daughter was definitely bored. Good. Turns out she was upset to miss a visit to her school by O.W.L. But I held firm to my recovery day rule, which she admitted was a good idea because she did slump a little in the afternoon. Good news is, the owl pellet dissection will take place on Thursday, so she didn't miss it, and that's the part she's really excited about. Yeah! Owl pellets.

Husband and I took shifts being here for the kids on Monday and Tuesday and also going to work. I came home Tuesday evening to find husband drywalling and also sniffling and coughing. He sat down to supper and announced he's getting a cold. I touched his head....sizzle. Oh no.

So now I wish I had bought shares in the company that makes ibuprofen because we are consuming mass quantities. My cold seems to be on the way out without dire effects (touch wood). Meantime, for everyone else here it's sicky house.

Question: starve a fever?

mompoet - not if the kid with the fever is 14, and growing in front of my eyes

fer what ails ye...

Sherrard's Hot Ginger Apple Juice

If you have a cold but you're soldiering on (or even if you're not) this is very good:

1 4-liter jug of fresh, unfiltered apple juice
some sliced fresh ginger
4 or 5 cinnamon sticks (you can use ground if you don't have the sticks)
glug glug glug of lemon juice

Heat this up almost to boiling in a big pot or kettle and let it brew for an hour. You can drink it through the day off the top of the stove, or pack it to work in a thermos, or refrigerate it and heat cups in the micro. It might not cure your cold, but you will feel warm and zippy.

Question: who hasn't got a cold right now?

mompoet - snuffling but zippy

Path to Poetry Postponed to next Sunday

You didn't miss it after all!

The Path to Poetry workshop by Pandora's Collective has been postponed one week.

Sunday, January 30, 1-3pm
Port Moody Arts Centre
2425 St. Johns Street, Port Moody
$31.75 1 session
Call the Arts Centre at 604 931-2008 to register.

Question: where is your inner poet?

mompoet - encouraging suburban participation in literary arts

Floor Story

Tiles are laid in the kitchen. Everything from inside the kitchen is still out of the kitchen. We'll be on a camping trip inside our own house for the next few days until everything cures, grout goes in etc. Next weekend I'll paint the kitchen then we'll put the appliances back in and it will look really good. Andy and Tom worked Saturday from 8:30am - 9:30pm. The job was bigger than they thought. They had to rent this power-pryer to get the old lino up, but they made it. I just stood by and covered adjacent floors, hauled trash, went to Rona for more mud, picked up pizza, washed down the sides of the fridge and stove while they are out (oh my goodness YUKKK!) etc. It looks good already. It's going to be great.

Question: How many coats of paint would it take for a room to become measurably smaller than when it was originally built?

mompoet - going to find out (maybe)

happy anniversary solly-dog

Today is the 2 year anniversary of our family bringing home our dog, Soleil. It feels like she's been a member of our family forever. We had a party for her last year, invited some dog friends, got a liver cake from the dog bakery, sang "Happy anniversary," but I told the kids that was one time only. This year we're just remembering, and feeling that she is really, finally our dog in her own mind. Even last year, after a whole year with us, she acted unsure about her status here. She worried a lot and frequently checked to make sure we were here and she was part of things. It's taken a long time and lots of telling her, "Yes, we are going to keep you. Yes, we love you no matter what," for her to just relax and be one of us all the time. I think we have all learned from this. The kids get outside of themselves more when they are caring for her. She brings out the big daddy again in my husband, now that the kids don't need to be picked up or wrestled or chased around the house. She makes him play. And she makes me stop and notice "not sure." I'm fairly immune to ambivalence. I just keep on chugging ahead, and you're with me or you're not, and that's all okay. But with Solly, she'll follow even if she's really scared, so I have begun to learn to really look and listen to figure out if she's really okay. And if she's not, to try to figure out what's the problem, how to understand it, what to do. I don't think I'll ever be really good at it, but she has helped me with this.

Happy anniversary Sol. Thanks for coming to live with us. We're keeping you (just in case you were still wondering).

Question: How does your garden grow?

mompoet - listening

Dicombobulated

Tom came over last night and helped Andy get ready for a weekend project in our kitchen. They're going to do part 2 of the ceramic floor tile job. They pulled out the fridge, which has not been moved since we bought this house 13 years ago. Tom is a very good friend. You have to trust someone to let them see what we all saw last night. It was pretty horrible back there. Still, I can't see pulling the fridge out just to clean behind it periodically. The only time you know is when you move it. As long as we have a good friend like Tom, who still loves us even when he knows what's behind our fridge, and can help us when it comes time to replace it, I can live with it.

Wonderful, wonderful, wonderful husband has wired our internet into the living room and moved a computer out there. He understands that some of us (ahem) can't survive without constant email.

Tonight the stove will go into the dining room, where we can't plug it in, so we'll be microwaving and toaster-ovening for the next couple of days. Stove can go back on Monday, but fridge will stay in the dining room for a week. I'll paint the kitchen next weekend, then we'll put everything back together. We'll still have to do baseboards (buy, paint, cut, install) but nobody here is a perfectionist (thank goodness).

A friend was stressing about how her husband would be upset if their new car got a scratch or blemish. I am grateful to have a husband and kids who are even less concerned about tidy/clean/pristine than I am. Life's too short to worry about the inevitable impact of dust, dirt, and things that bump and scratch.

I will be happy to say goodbye to the old linoleum and have a fresh looking kitchen. Thank you thank you thank you, Andy and Tom, for getting around to this big and gunky job. It's going to be great.

Question: What's behind the stove?

mompoet - kitchen echoing

mompoet sound journal #4

Johnny Cash
Country Boy
Musicbank 2000
***** out of 5

When I talked to her about my listening project, my friend Irene Livingston told me, "I won't have any music that you'd like." So I said, "What about some Johnny Cash?" Irene has sung a few of her "old time favourites" (not Johnny Cash) to me in the car and on the phone. She has even written them into a couple of the poems that she performs at the Vancouver Poetry Slam. She loves music, how could I not ask her for help with my project? So Irene loaned me Johnny Cash.

Irene is a poet and writer. She's my #1 encourager - reads my poems and stories, helps me improve them, tells me she thinks I'm great. We email a lot, talk on the phone, and go out to the Vancouver Poetry Slam together. She is a precious friend. Irene told me that she can remember the first time she knew she liked country music. She was 10 years old, living in New Brunswick. Her family had gone out to the country but she had to stay at Grandma's because she was sick. She remembers hearing her teenage cousin Walter playing guitar outside of her bedroom door, "real wailin', train-whistle blowin' stuff," she says. It gave her goose-bumps. When Irene says something gives her goose-bumps that means it's really good. She loves country singers like George Jones and Paul Brandt and "Tex-Mex' singer Freddy Fender. Her real favourite is Willy Nelson. She also enjoys Sarah Brightman and Andrea Bocelli and she loves Leonard Cohen.

My first memory of Johnny Cash is when I was 8 years old. Our neighbour got a new car with an 8-track tape player. I remember sitting in the car in the driveway with the daughter, also 8, listening to the tape. I remember her saying, "Don't touch the key or my dad won't let us listen." So we sat, surrounded by new car smell, feeling very special, listening to every word and marvelling at the picture of the man in black with the deep, serious-sounding voice. There were songs about love and prison and shooting a man. My curiosity about dark and dangerous stuff was definitely piqued. This guy seemed that way. But I didn't get another chance to hear any more Johnny Cash for a long time after that.

I guess I have mostly thought of Johnny Cash as "just some country guy with a super deep voice who sings-talks pretty corny songs." I was aware that he is tremendously popular, both in North America and Europe, but I didn't get it. Remember, I don't like country. But Irene had spoken several times about a video of Johnny Cash singing a song called "Hurt." She talked about how it moved her, so I thought I would like to know more about this singer and his music.

Country Boy is a compilation of Johnny Cash songs, including the (I think) first song he recorded, "Hey Porter." The iconic "I walk the Line" is on this CD, along with "Cry! Cry! Cry!" and "Folsom Prison Blues." Some things about it are really funny, like all of the syllables stuffed into one line of lyrics in "Train of Love,"

Every so often everybody's baby gets the urge to roam
But everybody's baby but mine's comin' home

My favourite song on the CD is "Mean Eyed Cat." It starts out like this:

I give my woman half my money at the general store
I said, "Now buy a little groceries, and don't spend no more."
But she gave ten dollars for a ten cent hat
And bought some store bought cat food for a mean eyed cat.

I listened to the Johnny Cash CD a few times and I liked it, despite myself, I thought. I couldn't figure out why. So I decided to take a break. Hmmmm what would I listen to now? Then I had a craving for Patsy Clyne (who I got interested in years ago when Beverly DiAngelo played Patsy in the Sissy Spaced movie, Coal Miner's Daughter and also when kd lang was the reincarnation of Patsy Clyne.) So I listened to Patsy Clyne. Hmmmm. Then I wanted to listen to the Beatles. Early Beatles songs, which I usually think are less interesting than later ones. Hmmmm. Maybe there was some logic in this. What did they have in common? I'm still trying to piece it all together, but I think what I like about Johnny Cash, Patsy Clyne and the Beatles is that they all have a real sound. Not phoney or flashy. Just singing like themselves, earnestly, and with intelligence and humour. Also a steady unswerving beat and very distinctive singing voices. My Mom says that the best actors aren't beautiful. They are interesting looking. Are the best singers not the ones who sing brilliantly, but those who have interesting and real voices that set them apart from the good-but-boring? Charisma and sex-appeal is definitely all tangled up in this too. How can you ignore any of these artists? They are full of yummy stuff for curious people to find out about.

So I did some internet looking about Johnny Cash and found out that he was a big fan of Bob Dylan and vice versa, which is really neat. Then I remembered that I picked up a Boy Dylan CD, Nashville Skyline from a remainder bin for really cheap before Christmas but I hadn't listened to it. So I found it and guess what - Johnny Cash was on the CD, singing with Bob Dylan. Now those are two very interesting voices, especially together! And on the back of the album cover there's a poem that Johnny Cash wrote about Bob Dylan. I was beginning to get a very different picture of this "man in black." Finally, I found "Hurt" on the internet and watched it and cried pretty much the way through.

I found out that Johnny Cash recorded covers of songs by contemporary singers later in his career. "Hurt" is one of those songs - originally recorded by a band called Nine Inch Nails (wonder if I'll listen to them on my sound journey?) I think I would like to listen to some of this music - compare it with the older, more traditional. So yup. I guess I like some country music. And I do like Johnny Cash.

Thanks Irene.

Question: Am I going to like everything just because I'm like that? Will somebody suggest something that I can just have fun hating?

mompoet - infatu-eared

the comic book study plan

Fourteen year old son is facing his first round of semester-end exams. He's averaging Bs right now in Science, Socials, Multimedia and CAPP. For most kids that would be good. For Alex it's over the moon wonderful. He is very intelligent, but significant learning disabilities make everything harder for him. Luckily, we keep falling into soft arms with him at schools: excellent principals, great learning resource teachers, and classroom teachers who see him for the amazing and wonderful kid that he is. Everyone has worked hard to help him get to this point. He has worked the hardest.

Anyway, exams are awful for him because of the pressure and the 100% reliance on reading, understanding and writing in order to succeed. In some cases he's taken them orally, but he wants to do it like the other kids so he studies and studies. I have been scribing index-cards for him since grade 6, which seems to work. Study once while you make them, then use them to self-quiz and find out the spots that need work. Throw sets of cards from unit tests into a drawer and pull them out if the same material is covered in a summary exam.

Heading into Grade 9 in September, I made a deal with him. We make study cards for one hour every Sunday afternoon, whether there's a test coming or not, just to stay on top of the material. He can use these for the tests, and also for semester-end exams. If he sticks with the program I will take him down to Hourglass Comics in January and give him some money to buy some comics that he can read during the "cramming" days just before exams. Because of the work he's been doing, there will be no need to cram. When he aces the exams, and people ask him "How'd you do it?" he can reply, "I dunno, I just read comic books." So this weekend we're going to the comic shop.

We've increased the study load to 30 minutes per day to catch up on some material that we didn't capture on our Sunday afternoon cards, and to make time for review, but so far we are sailing smoothly. It feels more like "just show up and it will happen," rather than "OH MY GOD WE HAVE TO STUDY." That's the payoff for me, along with him succeeding, of course. This is actually fun. I look forward to it. He's not stressed, I'm not stressed. We laughed for about 5 minutes the other night over a sentence from one of his texts, "Your stomach is an organ." Gosh, I wish they gave out letter grades for puns. He'd have a 4.0 average.

So there it is. Exams are at the end of the month. He'll do fine. And it's all by reading comics.

Question: How do you make molehills?

mompoet - pretty sure

I shouldna

I shoulda ate a dozen Krispy Kremes. I shoulda shaved off my eyebrows. I shoulda read a Nancy Drew mystery. Any of those things would have more redeeming value than what I just did.

I watched American Idol.

I know, I know, I'll probably never forgive myself. I'll never do it again. Promise for sure. Uggggg

Question: what possessed me?

mompoet - embarassed, but coming clean

Big City Poetry Workshop in Port Moody!

The wonderful and nurturing poets of Pandora's Collective will lead two programs at Port Moody Arts Centre. The Path to Poetry is a one-time workshop this Sunday, January 23 in the afternoon. Hibernating with Words, a 6-week series follows, also on Sunday afternoons beginning January 30. For the full scoop check out the Port Moody Arts Centre website. Pandora's Collective hosts events and contests and fundraisers for scholarships and reading nights and oh my...Their outreach is the parmesan on the bruschetta. Even if you don't think of yourself as a poet, think about coming to the workshop this Sunday. It will be good! See you there.

Question: or should I say the pickle on the panini?

mompoet - still thinking about food

Wetlanders

Went for a walk at lunch today with Louise. We made our plan a week ago and so arrived at Burnaby Lake Park at noon. We soon realised the error of our ways. Four ducks were swimming down our intended path. We walked on the road. It was not much better.

Question: squish?

mompoet - dried off

mompoet soundjournal update

I am dithering between Johnny Cash and Mozart. Please give me a couple of days while I work it out. I'll probably blurt two journal entries within a day or so of each other. Nothing in common, I think. However, Johnny Cash has caused me to listen to Patsy Clyne and to early Beatles. Get the connection? My subconscious led me to it.

Question: Why why why?

mompoet - rhythm like a rockin' chair or maybe a turn signal (have to stop listening exclusively in the car)

Pomelette

The painter and the musician are lovers
I met them at the coffee shop on New Year’s Day
He had pried her from her studio, lank-haired and baseball-capped
I’ve been painting for days she explained
Since just after Christmas
Nothing since September
Now I’ve made 7 paintings and more coming out
Like vomiting, she said
But they don’t look like vomit he told me
They’re good

He said It’s something about Christmas
All that expectation
Tell her about the thing, you know, she said
No, you can tell her
No, you tell it better
So he said
Rising up to Christmas we run like lemmings
To nothing
Then it’s over
All that craziness then nothing
Nothing

So I walked home
Stretching the dog
Shaking off last night’s party
That was good, but no epiphany
Thinking
The pinnacles are there but not always where you think
There’s no planning for inspiration
Or engineered eurekas
Just a lot of walking up to nothing
Nothing
Knowing that sometimes
Something happens


Question: Where, when, how and why?

mompoet - walking

Luau-choo with possible Schnoo

Tonight our friend Brent comes home with wife Michele. They just spent 3 weeks in Maui. Brent celebrated his 50th on Friday. When he gets home tonight about 7pm the house will be full of about 50 friends and family (all arranged by Michele). The party has a Hawaiian Luau theme, which is very funny, given that it will probably snow tonight.

I must pick up a gateau st. honore big enough to sustain a horse. We are also bringing 12 leis to share. There won't be a roast pig, but the lady who owns the restaurant up the hill will bring a bunch of lasagnas.

It will be fun except that I have another cold trying to plant its flag in my nose and throat. I have knocked out the last 2 with echinacea and zinc and pure thoughts. I'll try again. Sure hope I'm not a droopy bird of paradise tonight. Oh well, gotta go find some summer clothes - does a flannel scarf go with a tank top?

Question: How tropical can you get when it's 4 below outside?

mompoet - radiating good thoughts and warm feelings

(automated) Division is the opiate of the math-es

Workity workity work work work. Jazzed and jangled I jittered and grubbed through desky jungles, parched plains of mind-smashed desert offering no notch or nook of respite for grizzle grimble wabraca-yadda think-thank-thunk Oh I just can't get it organized and done! It has been one of those weeks. Too many surprises, too many voice-mails, everybody wants everything now and it's important and also they are upset and the phone is ringing and the emails are flying in the door like bats under a tree branch at first hint of light. I am inadequate to deal with this volume and diversity of demands.

So the last thing I decided I could do at the office today was a one-week-late-already analysis of program costs, fees, recovery rates etc. I had set up the spreadsheet about 2 weeks ago and people had entered their data. I had to go back and check, fix and polish before sending it to my manager, who is actually very nice and understanding about the one week late thing.

As I clicked and tickita-ed at the spreadsheet my mind smoothed like an ocean after a storm. I was zoning out on @sum(N47/D25/E25). It felt so good just to work this monotonous but mathematical task, find botched or deleted formulas, make it pretty....I know, it's weird. But low level algebra housekeeping made me feel all melty calm and happy.

So that's it for now. I have to go back out to work to start up a couple of family drop-in programs in my schools this evening, but I can manage, now that I've smoked a page or two of spreadsheet happiness drug. Ahhhh. I hope it was okay for me to drive home after I did that?

Question: What weirdness calms waves in your mind?

mompoet - yup, Rainman, definitely Rainman @sum(L15*Q27...Q34) but don't get me started again

Time in my pocket

Finding a bit of extra time is like a dollar my pocket that I forgot was there. When it began to snow this afternoon, I cancelled my plans to go to an evening meeting in Vancouver. Came home instead. I was glad about the decision. My little car just barely made it up the last hill to my house, with wheels churning. I know I could have taken the bus and left the car at the office, but I have about 10kg of work I brought home in case it's snowy in the morning and I decide to work from here. That would not have been fun on the bus with the blowing snow.

So I helped my husband cook fajitas for supper. I helped my son study the industrial revolution. Note to son. It's not okay just to know how many people are needed to operate a cotton gin. You have to know what a cotton gin is. Find out. Helped my daugher find fruit for her mid-winter frozen yogurt experiment. Worked on a poem.

Now I have a book calling my name before I'm too tired to read it. I'm sorry I missed the meeting but glad to find a dollar's worth of time in my pocket. I think I've spent it wisely. I know I got my money's worth.

Question: What would you pay (if you could) for all the time you want?

mompoet - contemplating value

Our New Next Door Neighbour

Welcome to the neighbourhood Justine Cee-Yan Friedman. Your dad told me that you were born Wednesday suppertime, healthy and happy at 6 lbs 9 oz. Your Mom is doing fine too, and we're glad that you're both home now.

Congratulations Wendy and Sol!

Question: What is it about a baby?

mompoet - googly

ps Your dad said we can call you Tina.

Touching Snow

I asked my Sunday School kids about snow rules at their schools. At two other middle schools there's the same rule about picking up snow - NOT ALLOWED. At the elementary schools, they can play with snow but not throw it. If they are caught throwing it, then there are consequences. In one case the kids had to write essays about safety and snow-throwing. I think the kids should be told the rules and be given a chance to behave responsibly, then dealt with if they don't (and recognized and appreciated if they do). Maybe it's a problem of sufficient supervision at the middle school. Maybe there's a precedent. There are so few snow days I'll let this one be although it bugs me something fierce. Grade 6 kids still want to play in the snow for goodness sake!

Pick your battles mom. At any rate, this seems to be a thing not just at our local middle school, but at others.

The kids sledded on Thursday afterschool at the park, but stayed in on Friday and haven't been out since. I promised to take them "tubing" up at Cypress or Seymour on the February Pro-D Day. That'll be fun.

I hope it doesn't snow again until Thursday. I have a couple of late nights through which I hope to drive my little car that doesn't go uphill very well in the slippery-slidey. I could work from home Thursday and Friday if necessary. Gotta go to the office M-T-W, and the kids have evening commitments those days, so I'll cross my fingers. Whatever happens, the disruption is short and infrequent, and not worth worrying about. I got a ton of work done at home on Thursday and took transit in on Friday. It'll be spring in a week or two.

Question: How thick is the snow that stops us? How slippery the ice that will not allow us to do so?

mompoet - weathering the whether

Really Big Balls

of snow, out on a school field. Those kids must have had a ball at recess and lunch time. There were about a half-dozen snowballs, each taller than a grade 6 student. Must have taken at least 10 kids to roll each one at its largest.

In the meantime (emphasis on "mean"), the middle school administration forbade touching snow with your hands. I am not exaggerating. Here's a quote from what they told the kids on Thursday morning:

If you pick up snow we will assume that you are intending to throw it. No snowmen, no snow-pies, no picking up snow for any reason. Anyone caught picking up snow will receive detention or suspension. No exceptions. Do not pick up snow.

ps Don't have fun.

I guess they have to be careful. My daughter asked her teacher why and he said they want to avoid lawsuits. Gosh, they let the kids pick up softballs and carry sharpened pencils. Better take those away too. HUMBUG!!!

Question: We don't we all just lie down and close our eyes and breathe slowly and evenly?

mompoet - irritated by irrational caution

mompoet sound journal #3

The Be Good Tanyas
Chinatown
Nettwerk Productions 2003
****1/2 (out of 5)

This is porch-sitting, popsicle-licking rocking chair music, recommended to me by Megan (daughter of Cathy from last week's sound journal). Megan is 14 years old and as musically inclined as her Mom and Dad. She's also a writer and a poet. Megan enjoys "guitar-driven melodies and songs that are very strong lyrically." She told me, "I always find that you can judge how good an artist truly is by how 'real' their lyrics seem; if I can relate to a song I find that I can enjoy it a lot, even if, musically, it is rather simple." Megan's favourite artists include Jewel (but not her latest album) Kathleen Edwards, Leonard Cohen, Natalie Merchant, Dar Williams, The Wailin' Jennys, Josh Ritter, Ani Difranco, Tracy Chapman, Sixpence None the Richer, Joni Mitchell, Fleetwood Mac, Vanessa Carlton and Sarah Harmer. She discovered The Be Good Tanyas Chinatown when she was looking for a CD that included "House of the Rising Sun." (Megan specifies, "the original version, not the Bob Dylan-ized one.") She found this CD in her parents' collection and, she admits, "it's been in my room ever since." She says The Be Good Tanyas "make banjo sound cool!"

The Be Good Tanyas are Frazey Ford, Samantha Parton and Trish Klein. Here's their offical website. They met in tree planting camps and later again at the Kooteny Music School. Home is Vancouver. Chinatown is their second album. It's a mix of traditional songs and original works, classified as "contemporary folk," which I think means traditional sound and style with contemporary subject matter and new interpretations of classics. They all sing, and among them they play guitar (acoustic and electric), mandolin, harmonica, ukulele, piano and cool banjo. They are supported by Andrew Burden on double bass and Glenn "Ike" Eidsness on drums. Their sound is simple and direct, quiet drums, hardly noticeable electric guitar, no big production sound. This is definitely girlie music, mostly about love, hurt, death (including a sweet and sincere tribute to Samantha Parton's dog, who she loved very much). When I first listened to it, I was reminded of the music my parents played for me and my sister and brother when we were kids, Peter Paul and Mary, Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger are the ones I can recall. I fell in love with a song written by lead singer, Frazey Ford, called "ship out on the sea." Something about these lyrics just caught my heart and made me sing along with a big goofy grin,

plant me in the garden
don't you let me roam
cuz love is a feeling like a warm dark stone

There's also a grim but excellent tune called "waiting around to die" by t. van zandt, and the interpretation of "House of the Rising Sun" is pretty cool too.

I did have one reservation, something I wasn't sure about, so I emailed Megan with my question:

Do you know why Frazey Ford sings kind of "blurry?" Is it part of the style that the group has consciously adopted? Is this a progressive folk convention? or does she have a speech impediment? I'm not sure what to think about it. My evil sense of humour keeps picturing a bunch of young women fans at a BGTs concert, all standing and swaying and singing along with their mouths full of graham crackers and honey.

Megan answered:

Actually I don't know why she sings that way...I imagine that it's a method of expressing passion in her singing without resorting to Mariah Carey type vocal acrobatics (OOoooo!!! Aaaa-oooahhh!!!!! Ya-Yaaaaaaa!!!). However that's just a guess. I should hope that she does realize that's how she sounds; it would be rather embarrassing for her otherwise.

Thus my rating of only 4 1/2 out of 5 stars for an otherwise totally loveable album. I dithered about whether the mumbly singing is charming or annoying. I had to decide on the latter. I feel like a fuss-budgetty mom, saying "You'd be so pretty if you'd just get that hair out of your face," but that's my perogative. I would enjoy these lovely songs more if I didn't have to read the lyrics to find out what's being sung. It's not like that for every word of every song, but for enough that it bugged me.

This one is definitely a keeper. I will be visiting the music store again to buy a copy. Thank you Megan for introducing me to the Be Good Tanyas! Next week - Mom and Dad recommend Mozart.

Question: Wuzz thatcha say'n?

mompoet - ears full of graham crackers and honey and happy cool banjo

5:30 is early

but that's what time I rise on a workday, just so I can get a little quiet time before everyone starts crashing around. I shouldn't complain. Husband leaves the house around 4:30am to start work at 5.

I survived the first day back after 2 weeks off. Only experienced "fight or flight" about 4 times. Said some silent swear words. Hugged Sherrard who returned to work after 2 months working on her art and staying with her family in New York City - Go Sherrard! Got rice in my keyboard eating leftovers at my desk. Did not take down my Christmas decorations from my office door.

I am listening to the Be Good Tanyas. I emailed Megan, who loaned the Chinatown CD to me, with a question. Once I find the answer I can write my mompoet sound journal #3.

Nine o'clock feels like eleven when you get up before 6. The pillow is singing a song about a cloud and a dog and a strawberry and a coconut. Better go lisssszzznnn.

Question: Did you know that if you hold your keyboard upside down and tap the back of it, the rice will fall out from in-between the keys, then you just have rice in your lap, not in your keyboard any more?

mompoet - nanobrain pillow-bound

Hardly Perfect

After revealing that I did not floss during Christmas vacation (well once on Christmas day - not because of any religious reason, because of turkey). I feel that I must respond to shocked expressions from friends and family at the realisation that I am not perfect.

• I prefer to entertain after dark. I light candles, eliminating the need to dust or wipe surfaces. I splash a tiny bit of bleach down each bathroom drain and in the tub. Then it seems like I cleaned the house.
• I have not cleaned behind my fridge. Ever. I have lived in this house for 14 years and 4 months. Sometimes the cat sits in front of the fridge and looks at it. I imagine something is living behind there. If I'm lucky it's just bugs.
• I had rats in my house in 1994. We got rid of them but it took 10 days. I was operating a licensed family daycare at the time. I had to notify my clients and the health authority, then we set traps and barricaded the basement . The rats were smart. They stole the bait, ate my chair and all but 2 escaped. Another one died in the wall, which was also lovely.
• My children fight about 78% of the time that they are together and awake. I do not know what to do about it. This has been going on for approximately 10 years.
• When one of my children has been horrible to me and I have been patient and positive and firm, then the child walks away and stubs his/her toe and yells OWCH! I secretly say "karma" and fantasize for just a moment about telekinesis.
• I eat egg rolls with my fingers, then I lick my fingers.
• I belch when I drink pop, and I guzzle beer. My husband always has to tell me to slow down.
• I read People Magazine at the orthodontist office and the place where my son gets his hair cut.
• I drool when I sleep.
  

So there you have it. Definitely not perfect. And that's not even a complete list. Sufficient however to dispel any remaining myths.

Question: Who said I was?

mompoet - typical

That Other Resolution

I nearly forgot that I made a resolution in November to try to slow down and not schedule every waking minute of my life in this new year. Today is Tuesday, January 4. My husband is at work. The kids just left for school. The dog and the cat are snoozing and I have a day off. That's a good start! I had a few hours of banked OT left so I decided to postpone my return to work by one day.

So here I am thinking about how well I've been doing with this resolution to de-celerate...

November and December were mostly very busy. I did find some quiet moments, and I didn't volunteer for anything extra, and I let the housework go for the most part. Usually work tapers off in the late fall, but it didn't. So this season felt even busier than usual. However, I had zero sick days and very few moments of actual panic about getting things done. That's a good sign. I wonder if my exercising is helping. I know it gives me energy and clarity.

Winter break was an excellent time to practise slowing down. I am proud to say that I did very little on my two-week break. In fact, I neglected to do the major things that I had planned during this time. I had intended to help my son paint his bedroom, and to get rid of his old bunkbed and replace it something more suitable for a teenage boy. The bed's bought, but still in the box, and we didn't paint after all. About the first day of vacation, he told me, "I think a colour change will be too stressful for me right now. Can we do it during the summer?" He even decided not to switch beds, wanting to keep things just as they are. I respect his choice, and not just because it excused me from a lot of work. He has successfully made the transition from middle to secondary school this fall, joined a couple of new activities at school and kept his grades high enough for the first half of the semester to qualify for the honour roll. This has taken a lot of energy and concentration. I think he's smart to insist on a break from change over the holiday, even if it's just a change from Grizzly to Canuck blue and from a red metal bunkbed to a sleek IKEA double bed with beechwood frame.

The first thought I had after accepting his choice was, "Okay, I can paint the entryway instead." (It's in sad shape, having last been painted about 10 years ago.) Then I took a breath and said, "Or may I can not paint anything." Hmmmm that felt okay.

I also planned to read a lot of books over the holiday. Instead I listened to music and read newspaper and magazines. Okay. I did read half a volume of short stories and I finished Stephen King's On Writing. But the pile of good stuff I got from the library is ready to go back, unread.

I worked on two poems and one short story. Both are at the "hide the thing in a drawer for a while and look at it in a couple of weeks" stage, so I've set them down for a while.

I did not bake Christmas cookies of any kind, except for 16 shortbread cookies made from frozen pucks of dough bought for a drama school fundraiser.

I decorated and undecorated for Christmas, but I did not clean my side of the bedroom, nor did I wade in and help the kids clean up their rooms.

I walked miles and worked out at the gym in the mornings, but I took a break from weightlifting.

I did not bottle the wine that I made in November. It can age in the carboy until I'm ready. I did drink wine and sit on the couch and look at the Christmas tree and talk with my husband and children.

We ate the last jar of pickled garlic. I did not make some more. Life will go on.

I wrote Christmas letters on December 31. I haven't mailed them yet.

I have not gone to any "Boxing Week Sales." I have gone to the video store once, and to once to Extra Foods, but no shopping otherwise.

I have watched little tv, except for some DVDs. I have listened to the radio, and to CDs.

I did not floss.

I did not type minutes for the Poetry House meeting that I did not attend in December.

I have not made my Sunday School lesson plan for the classes that I will begin to teach this weekend.

I have cooked really nice, but easy suppers for the family pretty much every night.

Tomorrow at work I will hit the ground running, with back-to-back meetings from 9am-3:30pm. My first step to less push-push in my life will be to come home at 5:30. I know that means I will leave phone messages and emails (from today and from Wednesday) unanswered. I know that means I will have a stack of work on Thursday. Life will go on. I will hang onto this feeling of "stop is okay" as best I can in the weeks to come.

Question: Is working hard to do less a contradiction in terms?

mompoet - rehearsing neutral

The Bad Boots Battle

About a month ago I grabbed my favourite laceup hiking boot style snowboots out of the trunk of my car only to discover that one had a slash across the leather upper. At first I thought I'd left my skate blades uncovered (they ride around in my car with me in case I find an opportunity) but they were covered, so maybe it was spontaneous destruction, who knows? I wear out a pair of boots every couple of years because I use them in the rain and snow and mud, when I'm camping, when I walk the dog etc. So I headed to Zellers to get another pair.

Only problem, they changed the style on me. So I got the ones that looked something like my old ones, similar price (not expensive!) and bought them. I should have been suspicious that they are now made of "man made materials" - in this case that tough nylon boot weave stuff. But they felt good when I clumped around the shoes racks inside the store with them on, so I got them.

I wore them to walk the dog the next day and YOWCH!!! One fifteen minute walk and my heels were hamburger. It took almost two weeks to undo the damage, using those "fast healing" superbandaids with silver nitrate in them. They are good stuff, but these were bad blisters.

While I waited I pondered what to do with the boots. I'd worn them in the rain and mud, so they weren't returnable. I know I have triangle shaped feet, but most regular shoes fit me okay, and even when there's a bit of heel slip, it doesn't do damage like that. By the beginning of Christmas holidays my heels were good as new, so I started experimenting:

#1 Insoles
I took the super-boingy insoles out of my workout shoes and stuffed them into the boots. I walked around the block. YOOOWWWWCH! Now I had to wait four more days for the hot spots to cool before trying again.

# Heel Lifts
Too cheap to spend on something that might not work, I cut a triple thickness of corrugated cardboard into a heel shape and put these inside my boots. Wore them around the block. Somewhat better, but I could still make a grilled cheese sandwich on the back of my foot after only a short walk.

# (Really, I am not lying) Duct Tape
I looked inside the boots that were so bad, then into all of my other shoes and boots that do not cause damage. The difference with the bad boots is that they have a seam running up the middle of the heel that is not covered by another piece of fabric or leather. Eureka! It's not so much the fit, as the surface. So I cut a couple of squares of duct tape and stuck one in each boot, covering the seam where the boot meets my the tender part at the back of my heel. I walked the dog. Hmmmmm, feels like....nothing! YES!

So I can keep the darn things. I suspect I will have to replace the duct tape from time to time. I know I will never again buy a pair of boots of similar construction.

Question: Why can't they just do it right?

mompoet - housewife, footwear tamer, super-hero

Club tZunami

I just found out that you can donate your Club Z/HBC Reward points to tsunami relief. You have to go to the store and fill out a form. Much more useful than a bread machine or a set of monogrammed bridge mix dishes, I think.

Question: Got points?

mompoet - Zeddy

Dark and Dark Lite

Saw two movies this week, one in the theatre and one on video, both good.

Lemony Snicket - A Series of Unfortunate Events

This is faux dark and very funny. Our daughter has read the first three books, upon which the movie was based, and reports that the movie doesn't stay true to the story, but she enjoyed it anyway. Jim Carey hilarious as Count Olaf, and the sets and costumes are gorgeous. My favourite part is the subtitled baby, Sunny, who says things like "She's the Mayor of Crazy Town," and "Bite me."

Last night my husband I watched Monster. It was great, although hard to watch. A love story about a serial killer. Charlize Theron and Christina Ricci are excellent in this movie, based on the true story of Aileen Wuornos, who lived life as a tragically angry and hurt outsider who worked as a prostitute and murdered several of the men who picked her up along the highway.

Time to run outside in the sunshine, I think!

Question: milk chocolate, dark chocolate or strawberry sorbet?

mompoet - enjoying some of each

mompoet sound journal #2

Damien Rice
O
Vector Recordings 2003
***** (out of 5 - I promise I won't just love everything, but I do love this)

Why do we love sad? When my friend Cathy loaned me Damien Rice she cautioned me that this is not "light, uplifting listening," but I am willing to listen to anything for this project, and this is Cathy's favourite CD of 2004, and I trust her. Why do we love sad so much? More about that later.

Cathy's family is all about music. She studied music for years and played in the Burnaby Ladies Pipe band. As a teen, she saved her babysitting money to buy albums. She still plays music at home, accompanying her favourite CDs on the djembe. Her husband, Terry, manages local artist Laura Doyle through his agency, Hystar Entertainment. Previously he worked for A&M, Universal and BMG. Currently, he is President of Music BC. Terry and Cathy hang out with musicians, go to shows and concerts all the time and have the most amazing contemporary music collection that I know about. They have promised to help me with my listening project. (Daughter Megan's pick, The Be Good Tanyas, will be next week's review.) Cathy's favourite artists are Nina Simone, Etta James, Damien Rice, Natalie Merchant, David Gray, Neil Young, BB King, Laura Doyle, Po Girl, Wailin Jennys and Sarah Harmer. Favourite concerts were Ray Charles, Judy Collins, Vince Gill (although she rarely listens to country any more), BB King, Eric Clapton, Rolling Stones and The Eagles. Her music fantasy is to put on a big party for all of her friends and hire Colin James to play for us.

Cathy found about about Damien Rice from her friend, Laura Doyle. Cathy says, "I loved how the songs 'ran into' each other. I enjoyed listening to the quiet lines spoken at the end of the songs, the cello was fantastic, his harmonies with the female singer were beautiful and he sang from deep down in his soul." She shares the CD with Megan, who is also "hooked." Cathy concludes, "At one point we listened to it so much that I thought we might actually wear it out."

Damien Rice is a singer from Ireland who played with a band called Juniper for several years before recording on his own. O is his first full-length CD (there are a few singles) and it is sad. The album is all ballads. Every one is about loss, disappointment, unrequited love, despair. It's named for The Story of O, the classic erotic novel of dominance and submission, and one of the songs refers to the novel. Damien sings and plays the guitar and a few other instruments. He sings with Lisa Hannigan, who has a hidden track at the end of the CD - her own version of Silent Night. The first thing I noticed when I listened was Damien's voice. If he was a classical singer, he'd be a tenor for sure. In some songs he moves up to a falsetto voice for parts of the song. In many songs, he starts out barely whispering, then builds to such volume and intensity that I had to turn my volume control down because my daughter informed me, "I can hear you upstairs Mom." (that's kind of a nice reversal, isn't it?) I watched a couple of Damien's concert videos on the web. The stage is dark. There are no rockets, no leaping about. Musicians sit in chairs or stand and sing and play. Very spare, very sad, and also beautiful. The cello, played by Vyvienne Long, adds layers of sadness and drama. The sound is clean and direct, but not uncomplicated. There is a gregorian chant in one song, and in another, an opera singer, singing Damien's words translated into Finnish because they sound better in that language. All of the tracks except one were recorded in people's homes using portable recording equipment. The lyrics are original too. Here are a few lines from my favourite song, Cannonball:

stones taught me to fly
love taught me to lie
life, it taught me to die
so it's not hard to fall
when you float like a cannonball

You can listen to music and look at lyrics at Damien Rice's official website.

The hit single from the album is Blower's Daughter (featured in the movie, Closer). All of the songs are very good. The sound/tone/theme is consistent and unifying, but the songs are each different from one another. Most important to me, I felt emotional sincerity. My "I am being manipulated" button is pretty easy to push. Nothing touched it in this case.

So why do we love sad so much? I think about the times when I have experienced deep sadness, pain and loss and I know that when I feel this way, it feels good to hear a beautiful and articulate expression of someone else's sadness. It's not just that feeling of "I am not alone," although that's there. It's more like the beauty of the expression raises my own sadness to a level of perfection and beauty. It's kind of an upside-down emotional aesthetic, but it's real and powerful and totally valid, I believe.

When I am happy (which is most of the time) I still love expressions of sadness. I believe that a deep river of sadness runs underneath our day-to-day living, and is an essential element of our emotional/spiritual existence. Understanding and appreciating this sadness - dipping a toe in the river by listening to music like Damien Rices' O - maintains my awareness of this aspect of life. I believe that it is the basis of compassion and generosity.

So there we go, a very sad, very beautiful work of music that I will love to listen to when I am happy and when I am sad.

Thank you Cathy!

Question: none today

mompoet - palms full of jewels

CD Storage Secrets Revealed

My dad has so many CDs, it would take 150 years to listen to them, not counting bathroom and sleep breaks. He's a gigantic classical enthusiast and a true expert and sincere help with many technical questions. Here's his opinion of those CD binders:

Aesthetics aside, also the CDs aren't well protected. Both the shiny surface and the label surface need to be treated with care. Jewel cases are really best for whenever a CD isn't in the player. It bugs me that many CDs now come in paper envelopes only. Sometimes the envelope dimensions don't allow the CD to emerge without being scratched; when I get such an envelope I slit it at least partway along one side.

He goes on to tell me about what he and my mom do about CDs in their car:

We have a 10-CD changer in the car. We bring the liner notes out to the car, leaving the jewel case at home, and keep a baggie containing the liner notes in the bin that is between us, behind the shift lever and hand brake, where we also keep eyeglasses and the cell phone. The liner notes are supposed to be kept in the order that the CDs are in the changer, so we can tell what CD # 6 is without sampling it. For classical music particularly, you want the liner notes available, or at least the movement tempo markings, keys, etc. even if you are very familiar with the work. It's the co-pilot's job to read from them when needed. For multi-week trips where we want more than 10 CDs we take along the jewel cases. Your mother doesn't like this CD changer arrangement too much because it's a pain in the neck to change CDs (the thing is under her seat and it involves sliding the seat all the way forward to access it, which means she has to get out of that seat first), and if the back seat area is full of stuff it means that that has to be re-shuffled before I can get to the changer, and then again afterwards.

Sounds like I'm pretty much doing the best there is except in cases of extreme heat:

High temperature and high light intensity are both no-nos for home-recorded discs (they do the commercial ones no good too, but both light and temperature are even tougher on home-recorded ones), and surface care is just as important for them as with commercial ones. Leaving a store-bought CD in a hot car in the summer is a bad idea, and leaving a home-made one in a hot car in the summer is a worse idea. Rapid temperature change is a bad idea for any CDs or DVDs; if you bring them indoors from the cold, or if you get into your car on a cold day, wait a while for them to warm up before running the CD player. (This may not be as serious a consideration here on the coast as elsewhere.)

So from now on in the summer I'll bring my little crate inside the house, and just pack a couple of discs out to the car whenever I leave.

Thanks Dad!

Now I just have to figure out a more easily portable system for my stereo face-plate. Because I don't carry a purse, the hard case that came with it is a nuisance - just one more thing to pack in my hands, and a bit to clunky even for my winter coat pocket. I'm thinking of sewing a little fabric case with a handle into which I can slip the faceplate in its case, thus freeing up a couple of fingers anyway.

Question: In the grand scheme of things, are these not luxurious and irrelevant problems?

mompoet - lucky, lucky, lucky

So What do you do

With CDs in your car???

My car has a little cubby just the right size for cassette tapes, but not for CDs. The glove box has papers and maps, and I hate the way CDs spill out of an open glove box.

I have seen those "CD binders" that you can store the discs in, leaving the box inside your house, but I don't like those either. To me, it's like taking a beautiful box of chocolates and dumping it into a Ziplok bag. They're still the same chocolates, but no longer as nice. The box is intended to be part of the experience, isn't it? The art, photos, song list, lyrics sometimes.

So for now I have my little stash of CDs (in their boxes) in a tiny plastic crate in my car trunk. I bring a couple up into the passenger compartment when I leave the house, so I can listen while I drive. I wonder if this is the best solution, of if there's another way?

Question: How to store the whole package?

mompoet - gathering rosebuds

New Year's Eve

Trying not to think about only 5 days left before I return to work...

In the meantime, I am enjoying a lovely day. Somehow, during a relaxed vacation, time actually slows down. There's more time to do the fewer things that need doing, and I begin to notice things again. I know you are supposed to "live in the moment," but I think that's a pretty platitude that people say without really thinking about what it means in realistic terms. Me, I'm balancing on a tight rope a lot of the time, carrying six bags and a basket on my head. If I look at my feet, I will fall. I have to look to the end of the wire if I hope to make it. But now on vacation, I have put down the bags. Instead of a tightrope it's a forest floor spreading out under low branches. I'm picking my way through gently, with no sense of urgency, just enjoying what I see along the way.

As for today, I am combining our family New Year's Eve traditions with things I like to do. I got up early, read the paper and walked the dog, then went to a cycle class. After that I came home and picked up the kids. We met our friends Sam, Louise, Robin and Emma for some ice skating, then went for sushi lunch. My Mom and Dad joined us there. We've spent New Year's Eve day together with these same friends for many years doing a family something-or-other and eating a big lunch. Usually we go straight through to midnight at one of our homes, but we've changed plans this year...but that's looking ahead on the tight rope/or maybe the forest. What about right now?

Well, we came home, and my kids got busy with some homework and laundry (did I mention that I love being the parent of an 11 and 14 year-old?) Husband was still out having lunch with an old buddy and running a few errands. I got to sit down with coffee and the paper and listen again to Damien Rice's album. I'm starting to like it a lot, after 3.5 listen-throughs. It is dark and sad, with gorgeous sounds and strong lyrics. I was having a bit of trouble with it in the car because he sings extremely quietly in parts of his songs. Listening in the living room was good. There's a cello, and a woman who sings with him, Lisa Hannigan. Their voices work beautifully together. I have to admit that at first I was a bit hung up on my observation that Damien's voice is a lot like Helen Reddy's in a couple of places. Oh well. I got over that.

So now here I am publishing my blog. Later we'll go to Kirsi's house and join a couple of other families from the neighbourhood for a New Year's celebration. Kids and adults all together, possibly some board and card games. Definitely a glass of wine or two. Walk home 2 doors down when it's 2005. That's as far ahead as I'm looking right now. But I will not say "I am living in the moment." bleeeeggggg!

Question: Forest or tightrope?

mompoet - blending into the undergrowth

What? Me Worry?

I stayed awake worrying last night for about 15 minutes, then I fell asleep. I can't remember what I was worrying about, which is a very nice kind of forgetting.

Do you peer down the road and watch for the bus? or just relax and wait for it to come?

Most nights, sleep steals me like a thief. No sooner do I close my eyes than whooooshhhk! I'm gone. Sometimes I dream worried dreams, but worrying rarely occupies my mind when I am tired. I am more of a waking worrier.

Do you wish you had a rewind button so you could do or say things over?

Mostly I worry about things that I can't change - things I've done or said, or not done or forgotten, then regretted how I handled it. I wish I could go back and do it better. Often I try to fix this kind of worry by talking to the person involved and offering an apology or explaining how I will handle it differently next time. Usually the person says, "Hey, don't worry about it!" And funny, after the talking I usually can stop worrying. If there's nobody to talk to directly, sometimes I talk to someone else who I trust and look up to. It's kind of like a confession, kind of like a check-in. I'm seeking reassurance, and usually, the person says, "Hey, it's okay. Don't worry about it." and usually, I stop worrying.

Do you worry more about disasters or bad things other people do? or about what you might do wrong?

I rarely worry in the future tense. Occasionally when I have to do something that's going to be difficult, I worry about whether I'll do a good job. Like if I have to speak to an unhappy customer at work. But I have a fun way of overcoming this one. I imagine an outrageously horrible outcome. For example, I phone the unhappy customer. She does not accept my explanation or attempt to offer a solution. She phones the mayor, who phones my boss and has me fired. Then the police come and arrest me for ruining the unhappy customer's life, then my family hates me. There are front page articles in all of the newspapers trumpeting my incompetence and the horrible damage resulting from my failure to solve the problem...HA! After imagining this unlikely over-the-top outcome, no matter how badly the real conversation goes, it's a piece of cake. I guess it's a creative way of asking, "What's the worst thing that could happen?"

Do you worry about the well-being of your friends and loved ones?

That's me definitely. Although I usually choose another word, like "caring" or "concern." Like if I find out someone is sad or sick or has an injury or is worrying about something, I'll phone that person the next day and say, "How are you? Is it better yet?" That's love-worrying. I don't think it changes the situation, but I think it feels better, both to me and the object of my worrying. Usually whatever it is is already resolving, and the person says, "It's okay, don't worry. But thanks for worrying about me!"

Are there other forms of worrying?

I wake up praying every morning. I do not know how I got into this habit, but I have been doing it since I was a teenager, before I started going to church or anything. It's habit-wired in by now, and totally unconsicous as I swim into consciousness. I pray thanks for the good things then I list all of the people who I am worrying about and ask God to help them. Sometimes I tell people when they are appearing on my list, if I think they would like to know. Other times I just do it without telling the person. If I every say to you, "You are on my list." That's what I mean.

Question: All asked already

mompoet - sorting

mompoet sound journal update

My friend Vicky read my post and replied, but hit a glitch with blogger.com, so I'm posting her comments, which she emailed to me.

Hi Sue:
I discovered some good music by listening to movie soundtracks. In particular, listening to the Stealing Beauty soundtrack spawned my love for classic female blues/jazz greats like Billie Holiday and Nina Simone. The "O Brother Where Art Thou"(I highly recommend this movie if you havent already seen it) got me interested in American Roots-gospel-type sounds. This led me to purchase a CD which I love by Ben Harper and the Blind Boys of Alabama. Also, I just watched the movie "Garden State" which promises some lovely music by a band called the Shins. Another CD which is not from a soundtrack, but I received as a gift is BY The Way by the Red Hot Chili Peppers; an excellent funk CD. Oh, off topic, but you should see the movie Sideways it a great movie for those who appreciate wines. And, who knows, you might discover some good music there too. :-) Happy New Year. vic.

Thank you Vic! Music and movie reviews (I saw the trailer for Sideways - looks good. The critics love it too, I hear.) to encourage my exploration. I can't wait to borrow whichever one you choose to loan. Thanks again!

My neighbours Megan and Cathy have loaned me my next 2 CDs: O by Damian Rice (from Cathy) and Chinatown by the Be Good Tanyas (from Megan). I've already started listening. Because I received these together from a mother and daughter, and because they both have an underlying theme of sadness and loss, but in very different styles, I think I will listen to them together and journal my response all in one entry.

That's all for now about sound anyway...

Question: How many sounds abound?

mompoet - learning to listen

Soup of the Evening

Two soups were created in two days in one house (ours). Husband made split pea soup, using the ham bone from Christmas supper. I made the turkey soup. I don't get when people moan and groan about turkey leftovers. After sending home generous "care packages" with dinner guests, the household carnivores quickly devour the turkey without me having to dream up creative casserole treatments or even make turkey sandwiches. If a nearby museum ever runs out of those bugs that strip animal skeletons for displays, I could send my husband and kids over and they would do the job just fine.

Anyway, I managed to snag the hastily-depleted carcass on Tuesday afternoon (just 2 days after Christmas) and make soup before it was just a rattling plateful of bones. Here's my recipe:

Turkey Soup

soup stock (oh, maybe 12-16 cups) see recipe below
1 cup pearl or pot barley (what's the diff? I dunno!)
4 medium onions
8-10 carrots
5-6 stalks of celery
3-6 cloves garlic
olive oil
6 medium potatoes
2-3 cups frozen green beans
2 cups frozen corn
2-4 cups leftover turkey meat, cut up into small pieces
leftover turkey gravy (optional)
salt and pepper

Set the stock to boiling in a large pot with a lid (I use my canning pot, but if you have one of those fancy stock pots that would be so much more appropriate). Dump in the barley, turn the broth down to simmer and stir once in a while as you do your chopping. Wash and chop the onions, carrots (peel these too if you prefer), celery, garlic, and potatoes. You can make small or large chunks according to how you like it and how your Mom used to make it. Saute the onions and the celery in some olive oil. When they are shiny and translucent but not brown, stir in the garlic and saute it until the kitchen smells like garlic. Then dump the saute mix into the simmering broth. Dump in the carrots and the potatoes at this point also. Cover and simmer for about 30 minutes. Test to make sure that the barley is tender and the potatoes are done. Add the frozen corn and green beans and the gravy if you have it. Add the turkey at this point too. Simmer about 15 minutes more. Season with s&p as your taste dicates.

You can add other vegetables if you have them. Warning - cruciferous veggies do not like to be simmered a long time, so broccoli, cauliflower and brussels sprouts are delicious, but add them when you add the frozen vegetables.

This recipe makes a lot of soup. Enough to freeze for a couple of meals later in January when you are tired and need a spoonful of love on a dreary winter night. Either that or you can give some to a friend.

Soup Stock

Remove the remaining meat from the turkey carcass and save it in the fridge. (Discard fat, gristle, skin and other parts you would not eat - they do not improve the stock.) Put the bones into a really big pot and cover them with water. Toss in an onion or two (you can leave the papery skin on, to help colour the stock), a stalk of celery washed, but with leaves and all, a couple of carrots, a couple of garlic cloves, some peppercorns, a bay leaf or two...Bring the thing to a boil, cover and simmer for a few hours. Now here's the tricky part if you are doing it for the first time. Drain the stock, but remember to drain it into another pot or into a bowl....NOT DOWN THE SINK! If you've made it right, the stock will be low in fat and ready to use immediately. Or, if you prefer, you can refrigerate it overnight, and make the soup the next day. The bones and stock vegetables can be composted or otherwise discarded - all of their goodness has gone into the broth. If you made too much stock, you can freeze it and make soup with it another time. Don't leave stock out to cool overnight. It needs to go into the fridge as soon as it's lukewarm, to prevent bacteria growth.

I hope you have enough turkey left to make soup, and that you are not suffering over-turkification. If you are, give me a call and I can send the protein demolition team over. Me, I'm eating a green salad with some nice sundried tomato dressing and toasted sunflower seed, and yeah, a bowl of that soup too.

Question: Too much or too little left over at your house today?

mompoet - just soup-er

What's your Problem?

More helpful advice from ehow.com

(check the user tips at the bottom of each page - they are very informative and you can rate them)

How to wash your dreadlocks

How to dance the hora

How to get Superglue off your skin

How to choose the right screw

How to buy a leash for your iguana

Question: Anything else troubling you?

mompoet - wandering answerless and oblivious

Lovely Day

I think I'm getting the hang of being on vacation after the initial days of bumping around trying to actually do things. Here's my first actually tra-la-la day...

Hauled out of bed at 8 and grabbed a bagel and coffee and read the paper. Fed the animals but delegated the dog walk to husband, who is finally having a day off too. (Note: must not assign to my husband all of the things I have let go of doing now that I am relaxing)

Caught a bike workout at the gym at 9:20. I know, some of my friends are saying "This is not a day off." But it's okay. I promise to wear my pajamas until lunchtime on Tuesday. I just needed to exercise after a couple of days of sitting at the end of the Christmas food conveyor belt. glump glump glump. Sweating felt very very good.

Showered, changed and came home. Grabbed husband who had fed the kids lunch and went to see The Aviator. It's excellent. I was intrigued by the exploration of a mythical/real character who was a brilliant visionary, amazing risk-taker and a tragically paranoid and obsessive man. The story wove in his role in the development of aviation in the US effectively, along with the chronicle of his bumpy movie-making career and sweet/disastrous romantic life. I don't know for sure how accurate it is, but it is one good story. It could have been about 15 minutes shorter. I got up to run to the washroom before it was over, and I closed my eyes in one scene, both signs of tooooo loooongggggg. (2 hrs & 30 minutes plus 20 minutes of testosterone blasted trailers before the movie started).

My husband didn't like the movie as much as I did, but we weren't really watching the same movie. He looks at movies through a film technician's eyes. While my heroes are the writer and director and actors, his is the Director of Photography. The Aviator is the first feature that my husband has seen in the theatre done in a new technology that he calls 4K, (an advanced form of digital transfer for the production part of the movie I think). He was excited at the prospect of great picture quality, but was quickly disappointed because the picture looked 'soft.' Probably partly a problem with the projectionist but not all. He told me about things that should have looked better, but I didn't even notice. He's tuned in to it, so it bugged him. Anyway, he admires the DP on this movie and is a big admirer of Martin Scorcese (although he hasn't worked on one of his movies yet). So that was good.

After the movie we came home to the annual neighbourhood carport hot mulled wine and get rid of your Christmas leftover appies and sweets party. We sat out in our carport with the neighbours for a couple of hours. The mulled wine was yummy and the company warm and relaxed. The kids ran around outside and stuffed their faces, then retreated to watch Spiderman 2 on DVD in our basement.

Finally we came in and couch-potatoed and watched Something's Gotta Give with Diane Keaton, Jack Nicholson and Keanu Reeves on DVD (one of the 7). Now I'm deliciously tired and chilly and ready to sleeep.

Tomorrow I will not go to the gym (see, I'm getting even better at it). I will get up whenever I feel like it, and make a big breakfast for the family, then read until I don't feel like reading any more. Yes! I can do this!

Question: How do you unwind a self-winding mom?

mompoet - temporarily less bouncy, but in an entirely agreeable way

mompoet sound journal - entry #1

Eva Cassidy
Live at Blues Alley (1996 Blix Street Records)
Recommended by: Kirsi

Rating: 5 stars (out of 5 so far, but I might change the system as I go)

I'm delighted to begin on my new year's project in the old year. My neighbour and dear friend Kirsi (who is much taller than I am) recommended Eva Cassidy because of her voice. Kirsi first discovered this artist while visiting with another friend and neighbour, Myrna. "I heard that voice and I had to know who it was." Now Kirsi is a fan. Kirsi's other musical preferences are mostly re-discoveries from her youth: David Bowie, Cat Stevens, Jethro Tull. She also loves Barbra Streisand. She told me that Eva Cassidy died a few years back, of cancer, early in what was certain to have been a promising singing career.

The Live at Blues Alley CD was outside in Kirsi's car, and we were curled up on Kirsi's couch having a glass of wine, so she loaned me Method Actor, by the Method Actor Band (1988 BLP Records). I was terribly excited to be starting on my listening journey, but a bit disappointed as I listened to the album. Eva's voice is stunning (sometimes like Anni-Frid and Agnetha of ABBA, sometimes like Anne and Nancy Wilson of Heart). When she sings sweet it's as clear and true as a mountain stream running over smooth pebbles. When she wails, it's smokey and gutsy. The problem was the songs, a mish-mash of sorta-rock things with pedestrian lyrics and no discernable theme or style linking them together. Also, almost every song sounded awkwardly-produced. I don't know anything about sound recording, but I got tired of "the big echo-y voice" after about the third song. Only the first song "Getting Out," a blues song about a woman leaving her man and blowing up his house stood out. But Kirsi loved her, so I figured maybe this was just the first album of a band that didn't make it, and later Eva found her voice.

I phoned Kirsi and asked her if I could listen to another Eva Cassidy album because I wasn't crazy about the one she loaned me. She allowed that Method Actor wasn't her favourite and loaned me Live at Blues Alley.

I have this plan to listen to an album at least a few times over before making a decision, but I don't have to with this one. I know I love it. It's a collection of Blues and Jazz standards recorded at a club called Blues Alley in Washington DC. It's great. The songs fit her voice perfectly. While I'm no blues or jazz expert I know that she is singing them her own way, and it's great. I love every song. Here they are in the order of the album ( I haven't listened enough to choose a favourite): Cheek to Cheek/Stormy Monday/Bridge Over Troubled Water/Fine and Mellow/People Get Ready/Blue Skies/Tall Trees in Georgia/Fields of Gold/Autumn Leaves/Honeysuckle Rose/Take me to the River/What a Wonderful World/Oh, Had I a Golden Thread. I will definitely listen to this some more. I also want to find out if what an original Eva Cassidy song (or one written specifically for her voice) sounds like.

Eva recorded and released 3 albums before she died in November 1996. Six more albums have been released since. From reading her unofficial website I can see that she has a big following in Sweden and Great Britain. Interest in her is growing in the US. Several world-class figure skaters have skated to her songs. She was also a sculptor, mural painter and landscaper.

Yayyyy! Thank you for this recommendation Kirsi. Thank you for being brave and jumping first into the pool and for your enthusiasm and acceptance of my galloping experience-junkie ambitions.

I wonder what's next?

Question: Speaking of Blue Skies, have you heard the version sung by Ralph Shaw, King of the Ukulele? sweet sweet ahhhhh!

mompoet - galloping into new adventures

Seven Movies for Seven Days

My most favourite couch pursuit is reading, but watching a good movie is probably number 2. To help myself remember to slow down through the holidays, after I went to the library and stocked up on good stuff, I rented 7 movies for 7 days for $9.99 at Rogers. We have them until Wednesday, and we've watched a couple. They're all "7 day movies" that have been around for awhile, but often that's where you find the treasures.

Last night my husband, daughter and I watched "Welcome to the Dollhouse." I thought I'd seen it already, but I realised I had it mixed up with Ghost World. (Gee, now I'll have to rent that and watch it again.) Dollhouse just blew me away. If you haven't seen it, put it on your list. I remember now that I tried to see it in the theatre with a couple of friends a few years ago, but we got lost zig-zagging up and down on Granville Street and we ended up walking over to Robson where we drank coffee and I watched them smoke cigars which was supposedly cool for women at the time but I thought it was just a female form of d.o.l. (Tell you what that means another time.) And we never saw it.

Today I am going to do my other couch activity for as much of the day as I can. After I read for a couple of hours, maybe we will watch Arsenic and Old Lace which is a million times better at Christmas time than It's a Wonderful Life, no matter what everyone says.

Question: What do you like to do on the couch?

mompoet - reminding you that some couch-worthy activities are even better on the floor, under the Christmas tree, if you can ever get the kids to go to bed
(oops, too much information)

365 Days 'til

It's done. As Christmases go, this was a good one. We had supper at our house with ten at the table (or actually squished into the living room, because our table fits 6 comfortably, 8 snugly). The feast was perfect, and a communal effort. I did not feel sweaty or frazzled because everyone cooked their specialty and we put it all together. We used the good china, and my Great Aunt Grace's silverware that my Ohio uncles sent me after she died.

We never have big presents, but our stockings were full of little things, wrapped with too much tape, and labelled creatively by our daughter (who calls herself Elvis and Bob when giving gifts). I now own enough chocolate that I am considering hiring an Oompa Loompa to manage it.

Christmas Eve at church was very good. This is our first Christmas with Rev. Mary as minister. She kept a lot of our traditional family service, but put her own signature on things for sure. I realised that there's a big difference in terms of apparent preparedness between Mary and David, our old minister. For example, at the family Christmas Eve service, David would look around the church and ask the parents of the youngest baby present to "hand him/her over" to lie in the manger. Every year he found a trusting soul with a small baby. I think we all sat holding our collective breath that the little one wouldn't start wailing or worse, topple out of the rickety manger that David set up every year. A lot of his services has parts like that - I'd sit there, totally adrenalized wondering if he'd secretly set it all up to work, or if he was really flying without a net. I'll never know, I guess. With Mary, it's clear that she has everything mapped out ahead of time. Baby Jesus was little Steven, who was baptized in November. His Mom and Dad were clearly prepared. They dressed as Mary and Joseph and held Steven before the manger, which was suitably sturdy and deep, and probably would have held him had they chosen to put him in it. It felt safe, and it was. I was glad that Jesus didn't take a nose dive, and that I didn't have to worry that he would. Still, I missed the edge of doubt and the incredulous twist of excitement that I sometimes felt when David led our worship.

Tomorrow I will not go shopping. Never do. Husband and daughter are chomping at the bit to buy an MP3 player, probably online. I hope they get it. I hope it's what they want. I'll be putting the china and the silverware away and counting my blessings and feeling a little sad for Christmases past.

Question: What makes one example become the template?

mompoet - looking forward

Choc-ku

toblerone is sweet
chocolate chocolate mmmmm
velvet brown regret

question: had some?

mompoet - not yet

Stocking Stuffers

got me out to the mall one more time. I bought mine last week, thanks to a great sale on mega-Toblerones at Shoppers (mom, dad, pretend you didn't read that). But the kids still had to do their shopping. So back to the mall we went. Twice.

Twice, because it doesn't work to go all together. Fourteen year-old son and eleven-year old daughter are okay together in the same house or at the same social or arts activity, but when there's a task to do (buy 5 stocking stuffers with a budget of $20 max) it just doesn't work. If you would like a live demonstration of the word "fugue," just stand in a store with those two together. How can two kids have 4 or 5 voices? I don't know. They just do.

So our daughter and I went after lunch, while son and my godson took transit to go see a movie together (Lemony Snicket - 2 thumbs up). We went to London Drugs. She bought an obscene amount of candy at pre-Christmas discount prices and beat her budget by $2.70. I have to pretend I do now know that I am receiving 5 packages of Mackintosh's Creamy Toffee (don't be jealous mom). What am I going to do with 5 packages of Mackintosh's Creamy Toffee???? Anyway, the trip was quick and discreet. Daughter is embarassed about being noticed while shopping. After the stocking stuffers, we bought her Christmas pajamas (now she has red flannel with snowmen just like I do). We have to whisper in dressing rooms ever since she witnessed a girl her age being traumatized by a whole-family effort to find a bathing suit at Sears a year or so ago. "Gerri-Anne!!! We found another size 14. Try this honey. Navy looks good on you."

After supper I dropped godson off at his home and I took our boy out to shop. What a difference. This son of ours has no inhibitions. He's loud and funny and seemingly transparent. After hearing that his sister bought all candy he decided to look for non-candy alternatives. We started at London Drugs again, and marched up and down the aisles, shouting out possibilities. "Does Dad want some motor oil for the Lumina Mom?" "Does Grandpa have an iron?" "Maybe I can buy everyone condoms???" We were drawing stares but he doesn't care, and I'm used to it. We ended up buying candy after all (well, something else for Grandpa, but I'm not saying), except for Mom and sister. Toenail polish? Lipstick? Hmmmmm......I suggested magazines for us, but all that he would consider was a car magazine with a beautiful, scantily dressed woman posing in front of some vehicle or other. "We could cross out the picture of the girl, Mom. Then would you like it?" In the cashier line he looked around desperately and announced, "How do you feel about Tic Tacs, Mom?" By this time I was laughing hysterically and everyone around us was probably wondering if we were doing some kind of guerilla theatre performance. Nope.

After that I took him to the Body Shop. I showed him lip gloss, fruit flavoured in little pots, and suggested that we both like that, and that his sister's favourite flavour is orange, and that I'm partial to mango anything. He made a speedy selection. At the cashier he was $1.14 short. Okay, I said, but remember this when I'm old and I need someplace to live. "You're going to the old folks home, Mom. A really crummy one, too, with bad food." He said that, honest!

I love him so much that I took him for ice cream before we went home. He got brain freeze from a Turtle Blast at Baskin and Robinns and talked my ear off. What have we created?? Oh, yeah, somebody just like us. That's good.

Merry Christmas

Question: How do YOU feel about Tic Tacs?

mompoet - $1.56 to the good, and face sore from laughing

What to Do for 2005

I don't make New Year's Resolutions (too "gotta hurt to work" for my liking). But every year for the past few I have embarked on a project around year's end, and tried to sustain it for the entire new year. In Fall 2001 I joined the United Church and was baptized and even became a Sunday School teacher. In Fall 2002 I got political, lobbying to get adequate school funding. In Fall 2003 I started weightlifting. So far they've all been good projects and have changed my life in significant and positive ways. I think they have each made me a better person and more fullfilled in my day-to-day life.

So I have picked this year's project, which is on the fun-dulgent side, but also good for me. I am going to try listening to a bunch of different music throughout the year and figure out what I like. I have grown up with the radio (am rock stations) in my teens, classical all my life (that's my parents' passion), new wave in my awful youth/young adulthood (yup, I hung out at the Luvafair and got one of those assymetrical haircuts and taught aerobics classes up at SFU to DEVO, Haircut 100 and The Romantics) , endured country/western when my husband and son decided that's what they liked after new wave was over, and listened to all kinds of emancipated woman singers who my friends like, and I kinda like (I still don't quite get Jann Arden). Still, mostly I listen by default. So now it's time to figure out what's my taste (or if I have any taste at all). Here's the plan:

1 CD each week - has to be a CD so I can listen to it in my car on my new CD player

I will ask friends and strangers and people who I have just met to suggest things, and I will also do the odd random pick from the record store (are they still called that?) and the library, where they loan CDs for free.

I will listen carefully, a few times, and decide what I like about it, and what I don't like, then publish my response in my mompoet blog. By the end of 2005, I will have gained an earful of experience at least, and I'll probably have a better idea of what's my choice. Please me know if you have a suggestion, better yet if it's something I can borrow for a week. This will be fun.

Question: What do you suggest?

mompoet - all ears

The Basement

You can dance down there now, and even play Twister in the laundry room - for the time being. Don't go in the art/wine/camping stuff room though (yikes).

kerchoo!

mompoet - momentarily tidied

Happy Longest Night

Solstice is my absolute favourite natural wonder. This day was just a little over 8 hours long from sunrise to sunset. This night is as long as they get. Now it's winter for 3 months, and it gets lighter and lighter every day for the next 6.

I love the winter solstice best, the summer solstice next. The fall equinox is cool because it means we're headed toward solstice. Spring equinox gives me the serious gunky blues - kind of a reverse SAD maybe? I don't know. Everyone else is leaping about under the hard briny-blue and I just mope for a few days and feel lost. There's just too much even-ness, and it's getting bright too fast. When it's dark, dark, dark I burn brighter.

Don't know why, that's the way it is. Always has been since I was little.

Enjoy the light you make on this dark night. Notice the day while it lasts.

Question: Wonder what an arctic all-day night would be like?

mompoet - dark and rich

Things I Like....

And don't like at Christmas


I like mandarin oranges, pomegranates, red wine, beer, lox and bagels (my parents' warped but wonderful idea of aetheist Christmas breakfast), mother-in-law's mince tarts, warm brie, nuts, really good chocolate in modest amounts, pickles, olives.
I don't like nog of any variety, rum in anything (a glass or balls), gravy, mashed potatoes, white meat, overcooked vegetables all mixed together,ambrosia salad, canned whipped cream, plum pudding.

I like red clothing, wool sweaters, mittens, slinky scarves, nice shoes, gaudy earrings, red toenail polish, pajamas the same colour as the toenail polish, good boots.
I don't like Christmas sweaters, tight pants, knee high nylons, high heels, novelty t-shirts, sunglasses used as hair-bands, anything fluffy.

I like candles, a real tree, cloth napkins and tablecloth in Christmas colours, photographs of Christmas past, hand-made ornaments, a big basket of Christmas cards, lights inside and outside of the house.
I don't like garland and mylar icicles, inflatable grinches and snowmen, crystal anything, calendars full of cheap chocolate called "advent calendars" but they're not, Christmas cards hung on a string across the wall, fake snow.

I like people wishing "best of the season," going to church for advent and Christmas eve services, giving to charity rather than buying each other a bunch more stuff, non-competitive cooking and decorating, stopping and resting with friends and neighbours, time away from work to spend with the family, when relatives visit from far away.
I don't like when people say, "Are you ready for Christmas?" and "Was Santa good to you?" going to stores on Christmas Eve or boxing day, reading ads for more stuff we don't need, people pretending to be happy but really being stressed/sad or confused, not being able to make everyone as happy as I feel at Christmas time.

I like going for a walk with my husband, watching him work his magic with the outside lights, staying up and enjoying a movie while the kids are sleeping, wrapping gifts together, snuggling in the dark and looking at the Christmas tree.
I don't like when he has to work long hours, when he wants to buy more stuff that I don't think we need (If it was just me we'd have no tv, all used appliances and the kids would go next door to play Nintendo. If it was just him we'd have a tv the size of Idaho and remote-controlled everything else), when the holiday goes too quickly for us to slow down together.

I like seeing our kids get excited about Christmas, watching as they grow into a mature understanding of what it means and how they can be a part of the good things about this season: peace, generosity, hope, light.
I don't like when the kids get bored and bicker with each other, when they focus on what they want to get, when they are stressed and don't handle a social situation or disappointment with grace, that I feel frustrated when this happens.

I like when it snows.
I like it generally however it turns out.
I like Christmas and most things about it. The others I'll live with.

Question: What is it about this time of year?

mompoet - procrastinating about mucking out the basement

Show's Done

I finally sat in the audience, at last night's closing performance of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolour Dreamcoat. It was very good. A cornier show you will never see, but it was done with tongue in cheek and hearts on fire. I felt so proud of our daughter and everyone who worked to make this show happen, it was just good.

After the show there was a party at a restaurant. Everyone came. I sat a the "Moms" table while our daughter sat with the rest of the choir kids. I'm glad the children were included in the celebration. They really needed a chance to unwind together after all that work, and a place to diffuse their energy and soften the inevitable deflation of it all being over.

On the way home in the car, my daughter and her friend both felt sad. I told them not to cry but her friend said, "Too late. The tears are already out." So I turned on the stereo and blasted Peggy Lee singing Jingle Bells with a choir of kids in the background singing "I like the sleigh ride!" over, and over, and over, all the way home. We all sang at the top of our voices and laughed and stayed hyper enough to chase the sadness away, at least for the ride home.

I'm grateful for this opportunity for our daughter to learn and grow - not just the show, but the emotional experience too. It's intense, but she's intense, so she can handle it. I'm lucky to be still so close to her to share this, and remember how it was when I had the same experiences. Just for the record, I did cry too, in the last few minutes of the show when I knew it was over. But there will be other show, and other fun, sad, loud, silly rides home. I'll sit at the Mom table any time.

Question: How did I get so lucky?

mompoet - heart on fire