maybe a bit more than you really want to hear about the Chili Peppers' concert

I saw the Red Hot Chili Peppers on Thursday in Vancouver with my friend Vicky. She's the one who introduced me to this band while I was doing my big "listening to music" project a couple of years ago. I now have a pretty good CD collection that tickles my happy-music-self with strong lyrics, mostly acoustic sound, some kind of sense of humour/quirkiness and all kinds of styles/genres/eras. I keep asking to borrow my friends' music, and now I have some I can loan back, so it's fun. I'm listening to the radio less, and to music of my own choice more.

So when the Chili Peppers announced their concert tour I was over the moon. Tickets sold out in less than an hour, but I got a couple of seats up in a section where I can verify, those guys still have all of their own hair. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

After a salad and a glass of wine in Burnaby, Vic and I began our concert experience with a Skytrain ride downtown. Neither of us has been to a concert in a while (well, I saw Jann Arden a couple of years ago at the Queen E but this is something different altogether). Neither of us has gone to the earsplitting/stadium filling/rock-music/maybe see our friends' kids there and wish we didn't kind of show. The skytrain was packed with 20-somethings including a young couple smash-face-smooching about 2 inches from my face all the way from Broadway station. Now that was funny. When they came up for air we talked with them about the concert. They seemed like nice kids.

The crowd at the stadium was pretty young. Not so many buying beer. Lots smoking pot in their seats. By the midway through the show, the air was blue and thick and we were dying for water. The nice young man beside me offered to share his marijuana with us. Vic and I are the only ones our age left in the world who have never smoked pot, ever, not even a little bit, so we grinned and declined. We probably smoked a fair bit just breathing up there.

But the show. Well, first on was The Mars Volta, which was hard for me to understand and enjoy because I have never heard of them or heard their music. The were a big group - maybe 8 or 9 on stage. High energy, but they were squished into the front quarter of the stage by their equipment setup. They played about 4 exceedingly long songs in one hour and I couldn't hear what they were saying or singing. I think that the backup band must have limitations put on what they are allowed to do and how good their technical support is, so it's not fair to judge by this performance. If found out some encouraging stuff when I looked them up later. Their new CD is produced by Rick Rubin, who has produced a few of the Chili Peppers albums, including Stadium Arcadium. Also, Flea and John Frusciante, the bass and guitar players for the Peppers have mentored The Mars Volta, played with them, and have toured with them before. So I think they're worth a listen again. And I got a peek at some of their talent at the end of the show, but more about that later. I read on the band's website about the sources for their songs and concept albums, and noticed they had this cloth screen backdrop with sci-fi type images projected during their show, so I don't know if I'll get the references when I do listen. Oh well.

After about an hour of opening act and another half hour of setting up the stage the Chili Peppers came on. Everyone went wild. We were on our feet enjoying the music and singing along for most of the show. The sound was good, and they played a ton of favourites, about half from their new CD Stadium Arcadium and half from previous albums. The did sing "Can't Stop," "Scar Tissue," "Dani California" and "Californication." They didn't sing the Zephyr Song or Under the Bridge (the latter of which I missed more). I really wished they sang their version of Higher Ground. But they didn't. Flea was flamboyant and exuberant. He ended the show by walking off the stage on his hands. I couldn't figure out what he was wearing. Some skin-tight pants and shirt combo with big sneakers with red laces. The outfit was all-over patterned so it looked like he was dipped in a comic book page and came up coated with primary colour images and scribbles. I kept wondering if the shirt was a tattoo but I'm pretty sure it was a shirt. Anthony Keidis, the lead singer was clear and engaging, and he has very shiny hair. He seemed to enjoy the crowd's response, but he didn't chat much between songs. I wondered about his costume choice - sweatshirt capris and a long tank-top that stopped in the wrong place and made him look hippy - which I've never seen on a guy. He looked like I do when I put put on slouchy old clothes to clean the house. John Frusciante, on the other hand, was elegant in a slate blue velvet pants and jacket. And boy can he play the guitar. That was probably the best thing about the concert for me, hearing him play. Chad Smith, the drummer had his usual bandana-band and an aqua button-shirt. I thought about what I would wear if I was an aging rock star. Hmmm, maybe manpris and a comic book shirt, but probably the velvet suit. It was kind of retro. The lights and effects were very cool. Just before the show, 4 camera operators climbed up to a catwalk over the stage and tethered themselves there for the whole show. Amazing closeup images of faces and fingers were projected in a shifting image montage. That was good.

Enough about their clothes. The playing and singing was good, but I was really bugged by one thing, and I'm not sure if this is just what musicians do at concerts or if it was them. Leading into songs, Flea and John did a bit of jamming with their guitar and bass. It was nice sometimes, especially when it sounded like they were having a conversation with their instruments, but it got out of hand (I think) during the encore. For the encore they sang "Give it Away," then they want into an extended wank-jam that lasted for about 20 minutes. They were joined by Omar Rodriguez-Lopez, the guitarist from The Mars Volta, and he was very good. For about 5 minutes it was fun to watch. Then it kept going, and going and going. Vic said "Let's leave" but I was hopeful that they'd wind up with something that might indicate communication with the audience. Instead they all huddled up in front of the drumset and played for each other. I guess if I was an aspiring young musician I might have enjoyed fantasizing that this would be what it's like to jam with them. Or if I had a finer-tuned appreciating for guitar and bass playing I would have found it a privilege to witness the creative process. But it got boring, then they wound up and finished boom-boom-twang. Then they left (except Flea stayed and walked on his hands for a minute). That was disappointing.

After the show we smashed back into the Skytrain. We were deaf for a little while and we definitely smelled a lot like marijuana, and also Axe body spray, which was the second prevalent scent during the show. We agreed that it was a good concert on the whole, and a boggling experience of something we've been missing for a while.

So that was the concert.

question: what would you wear for a show if you were an aging rock star?

mompoet - logging off to clean my bathrooms (but not in a blue velvet suit)

one rat, 2 corgies

Question: Did I correctly pluralize corgie? corgi? dogz?

mompoet - woof

wordless wednesday

the weekend

We're back, and while the camera is not talking to the computer I'll draw you a couple of pictures with words.

The place we stayed in - a house on the Sunshine Coast of BC - was the nicest we've ever had. Its foundation was on a big rock perched out into the ocean. There was a rocky beach, water view on three sides, big windows, a huge deck, hot tub, luxurious beds and kitchen. In a word, it was perfect. We loved it so much we raced home from farmer's market and shopping to just be in the house. Instead of roaming out to parks and beaches we explored our beach, clambering over boulders, finding sea stars and watching the birds and the boats.

The place down the road had corgis, two of whom appeared on our deck each evening. They surprised us the first time, galloping up on their short little legs, big ears flying. They were all smiles and hello-bounces. As soon as they'd greeted each of us they flew back through the woods to their own place.

We cooked long, luscious meals with stuff we bought at the local store and farmer's market. We ate more than we planned to. We ate pretty much non-stop the whole time, except when we stopped to talk about what we were going to eat next.

The bedrooms upstairs all had glorious views of the sea. I chose the murphy bed in the living room, never having slept in one before. It was amazing to open my eyes in the morning to a panorama of pink sky and changing sea. I was a bit scared the first night, all by myself in this big space, in an isolated house and surrounded by windows. I imagined someone creeping down our dark driveway in the middle of the night and stealing onto the deek to peer in the windows, but the corgis probably would have come over and licked him/her, so I knew I was safe. Just to be sure, I slept with 3 flashlights by my pillow. I didn't need them.

I brought Nelson the rat along. He liked it too.

We played all kinds of card and board games, and we laughed our heads off, and we missed our friend who couldn't come. We will definitely book the place again next year. It's a real treasure. So are my good friends with whom I spent this wonderful weekend.

question: none this morning

mompoet - breathing out happily

Ladeez in the 'Hood Weekend

We're packing our bags and going, we five ladeez to our annual weekend of laughing our guts out, sitting on the beach, drinking wine in pajamas and possible air band performances, fueled by wine in pajamas. We're missing one friend who has been called away on an urgent matter, but that just means we'll have a recap/catch-up meeting in a couple of weeks, which will be fun too.

Every year, a week after school starts, the moms pack up and go away for the weekend, leaving the spouses and offspring to fend for themselves (which they do just fine). It's a time of friendship, relaxation and reconnecting after the adventures of summer and before we plunge into all of the routines and responsibilities of the school year. I would post a picture or link to our luxurious location, but it's top secret. Suffice to say, these words would all fit in the description:

beach
hot tub
fireplace
provincial park
champagne
privacy
ferry
coffee
books
games
gumboot
chocolate
no hurry
moon

I'll be back Sunday night.

question: what words would describe your perfect getaway?

mompoet - grateful for the company of the ladeez

while we're talking anyway

Somehow I thought this was appropriate - a sign we found on a clothing rack at a Fisherman's Wharf souvenir shop.

question: got feeces?

mompoet - ug

Worthy of some words, even on Wednesday

ABC Television and Walt Disney have produced a docudrama miniseries called The Path to 9/11. It's scheduled to air Sunday and Monday nights. The Democrats have pointed out some lies in the show, and the rebuttals include some interesting info. The miniseries claims to be based on the findings of the 911 Commission Report. There's a storm brewing about this film and its version of the truth. This will likely result in many more people watching it.

I will skip it, but I bet a lot of people will watch it without thinking. That's what TV is for, right?

question: why oh why oh why?

mompoet - politinks stinks

wordless wednesday

roller coaster pics

We rode more than a dozen extreme roller coasters on this trip. Some of them we rode a dozen times. We rode wooden and metal coaster, stand-up, sit-down, dangle-foot suspended and hang-glider position coasters. We did loops and inversions and even rode a coaster in pitch darkness so there was no idea what was coming next. Here are a couple of pictures taken by my intrepid husband, who thinks it's fun to carry a camera way up into the sky to capture the experience.

question: do you coaster?

mompoet - coaster-lover, scared to death of the giant swings

pics

That's all for now.

Question: Did you go anywhere this summer?

mompoet - uploading,uploading,uploading

back

road-revved, star-struck, bee-stung, Angelina-lipped, g-forced, inverted (multiply), fog-licked, Alcatrazed, sun-baked, Interstate-5-notized, theme-songed, gubbernatored, checked-in, checked-out, mountained-by-space-and-splash, night-giggled, fart-joked, well-spent, map-boggled, water-bottled, firework-dazzled, continentalled-to-my-last-cornflake, hot-tubbed, cheap-wined, vicariously-oscarred, bridge-spanned, beach-goggled, sun-screen-marinated, bicker-jabbled, wind-blown, laundromatted, bar-fridge-salad-fed, soda-sizzled, not-very-well-rested but that wasn't the plan...

and glad to be home.

The best thing about a good vacation is when it's over and you feel like you saw and did what you wanted to see and do and the best place is still home.

And the best wooden coaster is at the PNE in Vancouver

And the best family is the one you just spent 2 weeks with, 24 hours a day and you made it and everyone is satisfied with the holiday and happy to be home

And now I can stop making salads in hotel bathrooms, pet the dog and get back to real life where they don't pick up your towels for you and play a theme song when you walk down the street.

ahhhh

question: lots in mind, none jumping forward

mompoet - running out the door to meet the new minister

here!

It's hard to believe that just two days ago we were locking up the front door and driving down the highway to our vacation. Now we've been in San Francisco for a day and a night. We're staying south of the city, riding the BART in each day. Our hotel is fabulous with a waffle-maker in the breakfast room and free internet.

We saw Mount Shasta, got scared by rattlesnakes, laughed at every funny town-name along the way, rode the cable cars (definitely more dangerous and lurchy than anything at Disneyland), shopped Fisherman's Wharf, toured a vintage square-rigger sailing ship and a turn of the century car ferry and laughed a lot. Today we will take a boat out to the Golden Gate Bridge and tour Alcatraz, then go to our friend Heidi's house for supper. Her request from Canada? Tim Horton's Coffee. We're bringing her the jumbo tin.

I have to go, everyone is waffled up and ready to travel into town. Tomorrow we push on to Magic Mountain for 3 days of roller coaster riding.

question: how did I get so lucky?

mompoet - on the road

packing

We have this pile accumulating of things to take with us to Disneyland. Everytime we think of something, we add it to the pile. It will all go into our bags tonight, the car tomorrow morning.

Fi put the entire nailpolish bag in the pile. We share all of our colours. We actually discussed bringing the whole big cornucopia of talon varnish, but agreed that would be excessive. So we'll choose 3 or 4 colours only. We both like to have bright toes. Fi does her fingernails, but only with clear polish. I never waste my time. My hands are in and out of the water so much, and I like to keep my nails short to I don't claw people by accident.

So we'll pack 4 for the toes and leave the rest at home.

Question: if you could take any 4 colours of toenail polish on vacation, which 4 colours would you choose?

mompoet - wondering what we'll forget...

friendly, friendly, friendly

A year ago Carol of A Revision left a comment inviting me to be part of her Friends of the Friendless marching band. I was curious and flattered to be asked, so I said "sure!" Since then I have met dozens of fellow blog-writers - a diverse community of artists, parents, students, musicians, people of faith, readers, animal lovers and food-fiends, just to name a few. I have found so much in common with Carols FFMB blog-roll that I look forward to the weekly march. Today is the anniversary celebration. Friendly members are marching from site to site, visiting each other. We are reminded that the world is small and friendly, and not matter where you are, and how you're feeling, somebody has just posted something warm, interesting and amazing. And someone is waiting for you to do the same.

Thank you Carol, our Friendly Leader, for inspiring us to know each other in this unique way.

question: have you joined yet?

mompoet - recommending it

...and the Tonight Show too!

This afternoon a euphoric Alex phoned me at work. Grandma and Grandpa (my parents) had just dropped by with "some letters for us" and a letter from the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. I told Alex to open it for heaven sakes and it was what we wanted: tickets to a taping. There's one night when we could go, when Fiona (who's not yet 16) will be visiting with a friend in Palm Springs. I had mailed away for the tickets a couple of months ago and we'd decided that they probably weren't taping that night. But we got them! Mom and Dad picked them up from their US mailbox and delivered them to our door. Now we'll see Jay the night before we pack up and leave LA to start out for home. What a nice ending to our visit that will be. Andy and I have seen Johnny and Jay in previous visits, but this is a first for Alex. I'm looking forward to his enthusiasm. Thank you Mom and Dad, for making Alex's dream come true by bringing us those tickets, and thanks for "the letters" too. We'll treat ourselves to something nice.

Question: have you ever been in the studio audience at a TV show?

mompoet - goo goo over the gah gah

we're really going

On Saturday we will get in the car and drive to California. We've been planning this trip for a year, and saving for almost 3 to get the money together. Finally it is happening.

When I was very little, I had a love-hate relationship with Disney. I watched "The Wonderful World of Disney" on Sunday evenings on CBC TV. I adored my Disney storybook records of Cinderella and Peter Pan (turn the page when you hear Tinkerbell!). But we didn't go to Disneyland because it was so expensive and because our family was a hiking, camping, backpacking family. I learned to say things like "Disneyland is fake. It's not worth it." Secretly I yearned to go.

When mom finished her years as a stay-at-home parent and returned to the workplace teaching high school English, she paid off the mortgage, then took us to Disnelyland. My most lasting memory of the trip is actually of Knott's Berry Farm, and Mom screaming in my ear from her seat behind me on the log ride. I was about 13 years old, and already thinking my mom was hopelessly out of touch with the contemporary world. The Disneyland trip fixed that. We had so much fun in this plastic-fake-over-the-top-silly place that I knew Disneyland was okay, even if it was not the real world, or the only place to go on vacation.

Later, Andy and I included Disneyland visits on our California road trips before kids. The focus was beaches, but we loved the rides and the fun of that place.

When we had kids we bought a house, got retirement savings plans and life insurance and two cars and a dishwasher. We didn't have any money for big vacations so we returned to camping holidays and the occasional weekend in Victoria for family fun. The kids wanted Disneyland, but they understood. Then when Alex was 13 he won a trip to Disneyland for the family, all expenses paid. We flew down, stayed in the Disneyland Hotel and were given the VIP treatment. Alex had a job to do, taping "kid reporter" spots on the opening of the new Tower of Terror ride, so we were in the park before opening, with a Disney TV crew and Disney escort, and lots of behind-the-scenes treats. It was unbelievable, sudden and overwhelmingly lovely. At the end of that trip, we decided as a family to make a real old-fashioned summer car trip our next Disney experience. So we've been putting all of our extra money into a special savings account, researching affordable hotels and planning an itinerary.

We'll drive down. First stop for a couple of days is San Francisco to visit old friends and go to Alcatraz. Then on to Six Flags Magic Mountain - home of the best roller coasters in the western states. Finally, 7 days in Anaheim. We'll go to the beach and Hollywood and of course, Disneyland. Andy will visit the big mecca of Technicolour in Hollywood (he works in the Vancouver lab) and we will have fun. It will be an unreal vacation from the point of view of plastic pre-fab entertainment, but a real one for our family to spend time together and realise a goal we've had in our hearts for some time. We'll spin and turn upside down, scream in each others' ears, stay up too late and lounge by the pool when we're not wearing out our sneakers traipsing the streets of Mickey's home town. We're really going.

question: did you ever have a place you wanted to go?

mompoet - heading south soon

taken by mistake

I got the wrong bagel today
slinking in to work wet-haired, two hours late
grabbing breakfast in a bag
you, dry and well-dressed
ordered next
got mine (I think)
I hope you like everything
whole wheat's okay with me

***

Other woman named "Sue"
or so you said
took my sushi before I arrived
paid, so no harm done
while the chef sliced and rolled again I wondered,
did you not have time to order your own lunch?
and how do you decide which name to use?
sue for sushi?
pete for pita pockets?
phil for falafel?
or maybe you really are Sue and you just ordered from the wrong place
should I go find and eat your sushi
thus restoring balance to the cosmos?

***

in the bottom of my
chocolate ice cream
a strawberry

some days are just like that


question: 'djeet today?

mompoet - often confused, rarely hungry

Some words about our camping trip

in random order

• Getting ready to leave, I put our precious "border ID" (birth certificates, my citizenship card) on the stairs leading to the front door so we would not forget to take them. Then Alex and I ran to the bank. When we returned 30 minutes later, the the id and the bag that held it were spread all over the floor at the bottom of the stairs, with a hole chewed in the bag. I counted the birth certificates and could not find Andy's. OH NO! The dog ate Andy's birth certificate! Now how will we go camping? How will we cross the border to go to California on holiday in a couple of weeks? I even checked the dog's mouth - Is part of the birth certificate still in there, intact? Then I found it in another place. It was never on the stairs. I will remember that our birth certificates are considered edible by the dog.
• Driving down to the campground, I recalled I had not said goodbye to the cat. I wasn't concerned that the cat's feelings were hurt, just that she might be trapped in a closet or worse the attic, after the getting-of-the-camping-gear. Using my cell phone from the border lineup, I phoned our neighbour who let herself into the house and could not find the cat. Now I'm worried. Eventually the cat turned up but only after several stupidly panicked cell-phone calls to neighbours and our daughter, who was roamed the house calling for 10 minutes before the cat sauntered into view. "You were looking for me?"
• It was cold on Whidbey Island. It always is, so I came prepared with lots of layers. After supper I got into multiples of pants, shirts and jackets and Andy and Alex made a huge fire. Luckily we have very warm sleeping bags, although our dog was chilly one night, so I put my fleece jacket on her and she was very cozy. Good thing we wear the same size.
• There's a naval air base on the island. Every so often a fighter plane or planes will zoom overhead. The town of Oak Harbour is a patriotic place, with lots of navy guys and their families at the grocery and banners welcoming them home. A few years ago, there was a big sign at the entry road to the base. I remember it said, "Pardon our noise. It is the sound of FREEDOM." Now it's unmarked. You'd never know it was there.
• The sun is like a big orange lollipop when it sets over Vancouver Island in the distance. And you can see the back side (well, a different angle from what we're used to) of gorgeous Mt. Baker from the ferry to Port Townsend.
• Dogs who walk onto the ferry for a day-trip to Port Townsend stay on the car deck, which might be called the poop deck, but all of the dogs were well-behaved. We rode one way into thick fog with 3 dogs all nose into the wind like they were looking for something. On the way home it was bright and sunny. Andy and I took turns with Soleil down on the dog deck.
  
• There is community theatre - The Oak Harbour Players are presenting Alladin through August. In Port Townsend, you can see The Taming of the Shrew.
• There's a movie theatre in Oak Harbour showing Talladega Nights, Miami Vice and Pirates of the Caribbean 2. We did not go. The campfire is much more interesting.
• Alex drove all over the island with his learner's license, and Andy and me taking turns co-piloting. He drove 55mph (about 80k) for the first time. He liked that just fine.
• We drank a $3.50 bottle of wine from the grocery store in Oak Harbour. It tasted okay. But that was at the campfire. It was a fine accompaniment to s'mores.
• Only at campfire can you eat peanuts at 10:30 at night and throw the shells into the fire. Only at campfire can you stick raw marshmallows inside your glasses and do a Stevie Wonder impression. Only at campfire can you make really bad jokes about lighting farts on fire and everyone will laugh. (Nobody did any actual lighting)
• We did not sea any walruses or seals or woodpeckers or bears. We did see squirrels and bunnies and a few dead possums on the road. I wished I at least saw a woodpecker.
• There were hot showers for free at the campground. That was nice.
• The State Park attendants were comedians working at their day job, I am so sure. Either that or they are very smart and bored so they wisecrack all day.
  
• Port Townsend is one part coffee shops, 2 parts new age bookstores and the rest galleries and ice cream parlours. I did find a Mary Oliver book of poetry at a used bookstore.
• We all forgot our pillows.
• Wind up flashlights aren't as good as battery flashlights.
• My mini-maglight is the best flashlight in the world. I wear it on a lanyard around my neck so I'll have it handy. When I bend down to pet the dog I clonk her on the head with my maglight - every time.
• The dog still loves me, but probably because I feed her peanuts and let her wear my fleece.

Question: do you camp?

mompoet - it was a good trip

do you know mompoet?

A strange and wonderful moment at work yesterday. I'm talking with my new co-worker, Valerie. We're discussing our families and camping. I say, "Let me show you some photos of where we were on the weekend." Then I pull up my blog on my office computer.

Valerie says, "Do you know mompoet? Why are your pictures on mompoet?" I said, "I'm mompoet." Turns our Valerie found my blog a year or so ago when she was searching the internet for mention of a play that she directed. I had seen the play and written enthusiastically about it on my blog. She remembered. The world is small and full of good people who know each other.

question: have you ever met someone who has met you already, only you didn't know?

mompoet - mompoet, yup. that's me

wordless wednesday

pictures about our camping trip

question: How was your weekend?

mompoet - words later

Auntie Again and Barb's Birthday

My brother Mike and his wife Emily just had another baby, their fourth, on Tuesday morning. A healthy boy, 9 lbs 11 ounces. Mom and baby came home the same day. That makes 9 grandchildren for my parents and confirms that the number of offspring increases with birth order in our family. Andy and I have two, Barb and Kim have three, Mike and Emily have four.

Speaking of Barb, it's her birthday on Friday. I emailed her early because of the time difference. They are always a day ahead of us in Africa. I'm not sure if they're still on vacation in Mozambique or back home in Eritrea. Barb usually posts a blog on Wednesday (Thursday to us in the Western hemisphere) but nothing yet. I hope she has an excellent birthday. She'll be coming home soon after her next birthday. I will like that. I miss her. In the meantime, I owe Barb and her family a letter. I am working on getting some fresh photos printed to send, along with a few comforts including a big giant chocolate bar (my favourite thing to send). Kim's cousin Shelley visited Africa in July. I asked her to send us some photographs, as we have seen none (internet is awful in Eritrea, and mail is expensive so we get only airmail mailer type letters). Our kids are all at the age when people are astonished to see them after just a few months. They are morphing into big people. I worry that I'll hardly know my niece and nephews when they return.

Other than that, the world is turning at its usual pace. We're shaking our heads thinking we should be on holiday right now, but we have to wait a bit longer. We've switched our vacation dates this year from second half of July to second half of August. A family road trip to Southern California is shaping up. We are going to ride roller coasters until we burst, and also go to the beach and visit some friends and maybe lie around the pool and read a book for just a bit. When we return it will be time for the kids to go back to school. Life goes by so fast these days.

I can hardly wait to hug Mike and Emily and hold little Mr. I-don't-know-his-name-yet, but I'll probably have to wait a few months because they live 2 days' drive away in Northern BC. I can hardly wait to sit for a few hours or a few days with my sister and ask her every question under the stars about her experiences in her far-away home, and just look at her and hear her voice until it feels normal to do so again. In the meantime, this big happy family of mine is keeping me pretty busy and surrounded by love, which is the most important thing.

question: any new arrivals or special days among your friends and family?

mompoet - milestones flicking by like fence posts

All kinds of delicious

Nothing big or important to report, just a collage of delicious things that I noticed or that happened around me during the past few days...

• At Costco (which is not my idea of delicious, but I needed salad and they have those big boxes for next to nothing) there are always ladies in hairnets and aprons serving tidbits of whatever's new or yummy. I never take the tidbits. It's so contrary to my idea of how food should be consumed (slowly, definitely sitting down, and noticed). But there was one of those same ladies (they all look the same - youngish grandma types) demonstrating a karaoke machine. When I came in she was singing "Delta Dawn, what's that flower you have on? Could it be a faded rose from days gone by?" She was actually pretty good, and I've just never seen anything like that, least of all at Costco.
• Fi received a birthday email from her cousins who are vacationing in South Africa which included an announcement from her twin cousin Lukas (born on the same day as Fi).
  
  Hey FIFI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! guess what? At precicely 12 o'clock last night, I woke up and I felt like I had changes in my physical structure. I went to the the washroom and I looked in the mirror. Guess I what I saw!!!Yes excactly! I had grown 10 feet ( both ways), I had a wonderful moustache like Hercule Poirot, and a magnificent beard just like Abe Lincoln!! I quikly went and borrowed my dad's razor and cut my nose off by accident. SO I went to the plastic surgeon's house and asked if he had a replica of Michael Jackson's nose. He had one so he glued the nose on and gave me a boob job too. Then he shaved off my beard but left my moustache. Now I look like a mixture of Michael J. , Pamela Anderson and my hero Alex. My parents were thrilled!!! So I walked out into the street and right away every person in Johannessburg started whistling and winking at me and saying '' you're hot!!!''!!!!!!!!!!! So, did your physical structure change as much as mine did? Did you leave your moustache like Alex's? Anyways, HHHHHHAAAAAAPPPPPYYYYYYY BBBBBIIIIIRRRRTTTTTTHHHHHDDDDDAAAAAYYYYY TTTTOOOOOO YYYYYYOOOOUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'd just like to wish you a very merry b-day and a joyful summer!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THE END,
• My friend Irene Livingston emailed me to say that this white bird that comes to her place every year only on fireworks nights is back. Nobody can tell where the bird comes from or where he/she goes. It's just one of life's sweet mysteries.
• I'm reading this very good book.
• I was sleeping Sunday morning and dreamed about my friend Louise's kitchen. Andy and I were visiting her at her old house. We were looking out the window and there was thunder then a hole opened up in the sky and fire was shooting down from the sky to the earth. It was spectacular, and we felt no sense of danger. I hurried up to finish loading the dishwasher, which was in the living room, where there are no windows, so I could wheel it into the kitchen to hook it up and continue looking out the kitchen window with Louise and Andy. I had to roll it down a step into the kitchen, so they helped me. That's my second pushing things with wheels dream. I'm curious about what it means. When I woke up there was real thunder. It was 6am, so I let the dog into our bedroom so she wouldn't be scared. She wanted to come into the bed but she's way too big.
• Later Sunday morning it bucketed during the service at church. What a gorgeous feeling to be inside listening to it running down both sides of the tall roof of the church.
  
• I wore my pajamas until 12:30pm on Saturday.
• Alex drove the car 4 times this weekend with me as co-pilot. Getting better each time.
• Andy and I watched Syriana on Saturday night. Not really delicious, but glad I got to see it. Lots to think about there, especially with current developments in Israel and Lebanon.
  
• Mom and Dad brought us 10lbs of cantaloupes from Lynden WA. I like cantaloupes.
• Fiona's show was spectacular, awesome, wonderful. Not just from a mom. The precision and consistency of the ensemble work singing and dancing was next to unbelievable from children and teens so young and so many - there were 60 on the stage at many times during the show. Sure I cried, but mostly I cheered. What a good experience they had and what a magnificent accomplishment.
• Andy bought us a new tent today. We're back to tenting now that we don't have anything to pull our tent trailer. We're going for 3 nights on the BC Day weekend, to Fort Ebey on Whidbey Island. Now we have a tent big enough to park an elephant (and all to ourselves because Fi's staying with friends so she can go see Phantom of the Opera, and Alex has slept in his own tent since he was about 10 because he doesn't like somebody's snoring - I'm not saying whose - oh, we will have the dog with us in our tent. Oh well).

Well, I had better go, I have a couple of letters to write. Just needed to spill my jelly beans on the table and admire them. Life is sweet.

• Oh, one more! Myrna booked this for the ladeez trip. deeelicious

question: what's good for you right now?

mompoet - branches drooping with happy froots

first time in traffic

We celebrated Fi's birthday with the family at Andy's mom's place last night. Friends Robin, Ralph and Emma came too. It was just what Fiona wanted, everyone there. Everyone brought part of the meal, which is good. Totally yummy, the work is shared, and everyone's part of making the celebration.

Alex wanted to drive there, but that was rush hour, and involved merging onto and turning off of the Barnet Highway, so I suggested he drive home instead. He had his first "on the road" 90 minute lesson with a driving school instructor on Wednesday, so he was raring to go somewhere besides the church parking lot in my car.

To say I was nervous would be understating it. But we need to start and I trust my son and the other drivers. It's like when I first learned to ice skate I had to tell myself, "Those other people don't want to crash into me so I just have to go with the flow and trust that everyone's trying their best." I know, this is not a foolproof rule when applied to vehicle traffic, but it's a starting point anyway. The bottom line is, as co-pilot in my own car without my own brake pedal and steering wheel, I am not in control.

Alex drove home very well. He managed two lane changes, lots of smooth stops, a couple pulling out onto busy streets from stop signs, and the dreaded 360 degree ramp from the waterfront road (we took the back route home) up to the main drag. I tried not to give him too much advice except to encourage him to look way ahead. "Look as far down the road as you can, and your brain will automatically tell your hands what to do with the steering wheel for the road just in front of us." This seemed to help on that ramp. When we got home, he was ecstatic. Even better, the next-door neighbours, Rhonda and Chris, were driving behind us for part of the trip. Rhonda realised it was Alex when she saw my car with the Learner magnet on the back. Her comment?

"You did very well. If there wasn't an L on the car I would have just thought you were a senior." Alex liked that just fine.

question: have you recently found the need to examine the balance between trust and control?

mompoet - 2.5 practice hours logged, 57.5 to go

weebl and bob weather cartoon

It's pretty good. If you like weebl and bob.

question: how do you stay cool?

mompoet - water is always good, liquid or solid

the real show is backstage

If the audience could only see. A moment before the curtain opens and the lights come up, there are actors sliding, skidding, spinning, mugging, panto-farting, goggling, tangoing with dust-mops. Then the cue and presto! they are all together dancing and singing their hearts out. It's amazing to see.

Fiona's show opened last night for a two night run, celebrating the conclusion of a four-week musical theatre intensive. I helped at the dress rehearsal Tuesday and will see the show tonight. It's a "splooge" (our family's code for a spoof) called Oceans Eleven and a half. It's funny, with good singing and dancing (the camp is called Gotta Sing, Gotta Dance) and I will cry.

I cry when art starts, and not out of proud Mommy sentimentality. At the beginning of any performance with which I feel emotionally connected, I am swept by a force that is astonishing and overwhelming. And I cry. It's just during those first moments when I feel like I am being pulled through some portal into the world of the show. It's like a living thing that the players have created and the opening music or the silence before the curtain moves move me in a way that's hard to explain. I think it's not a coincidence that I went into labour with both babies at a show (Alex at John Grey's Rock and Roll at the Vancouver Playhouse, and Fi at a movie version of some Shakespeare play with Emma Thompson in it - I can't remember which.) It just gets me.

I look forward to feeling the feeling tonight, and knowing what it looks like behind the curtain just a moment before...

question: have you felt this way?

mompoet - connected

wordless wednesday

dreams again

"The Wrong House" replayed, but this time we were house-sitting for another family and my whole family was there. My husband and kids were all happy and calm but I was worried again, "Who is taking care of our house?"

***

I'm at a poetry slam, waiting for my turn on stage. I realise I haven't completely memorized the brand new poem that I'm about to perform, and I don't have the words with me on paper. Mike McGee is the host of the poetry slam. He tells me not to worry. If I make a mistake and recover, the audience and judges will be on my side. I can't decide whether to risk it, or go back to one of my older poems that I know well.

***

I'm camped with a bunch of people who are not my family in a trailer in a parking lot at a provincial campground. I'm vaguely aware that the park range will kick us out soon, because we're planning to sleep over in a parking lot, and you're only allowed to stay in the designated campsites. In the meantime, the trailer (which is like an older vintage construction trailer) keeps rolling from one side of the parking lot to the other, and we have to push it by hand back to the spot where we want to park it. At one point it rolls so far out of the way that we have to take it back through the interior of a building, including up a flight of stairs and onto an elevator.

question: what's on your dream tv these days?

mompoet - hot nights, weird dreams

the beach

There are a lot of beaches in and around Vancouver, but this is the famous one. My husband goes to this beach frequently. He enjoys the unique atmosphere. I accompanied him once to find out what it was all about. I discovered that a nude sunbathers are less provocative than people in bathing suits designed to flaunt nearly naked bodies. It's a cool, counter-culture kind of feeling there, with mostly respectful behaviour, appreciation of the environment and celebration of a very special place with like-minded people. The beach is stewarded by a not-for-profit society that lobbies in the interest of the people who enjoy the beach, sponsors events and maintains the website.

The day I spent there I felt okay hanging out all day, swimming and sunning with no clothing. Everyone else is doing the same thing, and there are people of all shapes and sizes and ages. It was a lot less intimidating or embarrassing than I thought it would be.

Still, I don't go there. Partly because I don't really like lying in the sun all day. I'm more of a book in the shade person. But the main reason I don't go is that I dread meeting someone I know from work, or friends I know from the clothing-mandatory world. I think it would be embarassing to stand around and chat with people in this situation.

So there it is. I'm happy for Andy to go. I'm happy to stay away. I guess if we find a naked beach somewhere else when we are on vacation elsewhere, I would go there and be naked, but only if it was as cool as Wreck Beach.

question: do you have a nude beach near you? do you go there?

mompoet - chicken of the sea

hot

We have headed into a heatwave that the weather forecasters say has come our way from Nevada. My office was like a pizza oven without the pizza, which is really funny because it's in a skating rink. In a couple of weeks they'll put the ice back, so I can go stand close to it in my shorts and say "ahhhh!" At work, the camp leaders took the kids to the water park and stayed wet for as long as possible. Later in the afternoon, three girls (12 & 13) dozed in my car (not air conditioned) as I wove home through baking freeway traffic from their musical theatre camp. After supper, everyone came out of the hot houses and sat on the street until it got dark and the mosquitoes chased us back inside, except the dog walkers. Everyone waited until dark to bring their dogs out. Now it's sleep time. I'm going to grab a shower and climb into bed without seriously drying off. That should help.

All that said, I am not complaining. I love the heat and the way it makes us slow down and do what's essential. Supper is later, friends are friendlier. It's easier not to be in a rush. Tomorrow I have a day off work. I'll be getting my car brakes fixed so I can't rush about. I do have to tidy up a bit for Fi's 13th birthday party on Saturday, but it would be crazy to tidy too much before the house is invaded by teenage girls. Better to do that after the party. Andy's got the day off too, but I think he is heading to the naked beach, and I don't go there. (That is another whole post, which I'll save for sometime soon.) Mostly I feel like puttering, so that's what I'll do. And tomorrow night I'm going to the movies with my mom. The air-conditioned movies. ahhhh

question: what do you do when the weather is changing?

mompoet - noticing that Friday is the 33% point along the caterpillar that is summer

woooordless

poetry happens in our town

Last night we held our first-ever AGM (I hope that's not the same as saying "first annual," which I know is not right) of the Vancouver Poetry House. The meeting was small, short and sweet AND impressive in the list of accomplishments made by our small but mighty organization AND by the visions articulated for the coming year.

After that it was down to Cafe Deux Soleils for the Vancouver Poetry Slam. My friend Megan came with me. She's a Grade 11 student and blossoming poet. Out of 9 competing poets, Megan came in second (first was the incomparable Norah, newest member of the VanSlam team). What a spectacular and well-deserved achievement for Megan. Her first poem, a lyrical meandering walk/flight through a world of imagined natural beauty, made the audience sit still and listen carefully. Her second, "The Saxophone Player," made me cry. I was thinking about the person who I imagine to be the subject of this poem (someone who we knew and miss) and also about the acute perception and wisdom of the poet. I was overwhelmed.

Now I am cross-eyed with tiredness and happiness for a totally successful evening. Poetry Slam nights are brutally late for me, but worth it.

I almost forgot to mention. Mighty Mike McGee was the feature poet. He brought the house down with his extended laugh-mix version of the pudding poem, with the macaroni and cheese poem mixed in. Laughing to the verge of bursting is a mighty fine feeling, and a wonderful gift that only a few can give.

question: when was the last time someone knocked your socks off?

mompoet - the world is going to be okay because there are wonderful people growing ready to take care of it

Magnetic Red L

Alex got his learner's license last week. He's waiting for his "on the road" driving lessons to be scheduled. In the meantime, we set out together this afternoon to find a place for him to turn the key in the ignition all the way for the very first time.

We went up to university parking lot, but the security guard kicked us out. We went to the normally deserted lot between the elementary school and the outdoor pool, but as luck would have it, there was a swim meet and the place was bumper to bumper with parked vehicles and children running around in bathing suits. We debated going to the West Coast Express parking, but figured we'd get chased out of there pretty quick too. I wasn't ready to take him out in traffic - will be after the driving school teacher goes first. So we went to the church parking lot, which was finally empty by the time we got there at 3:30. (Three different churches use our worship space sequentially on Sundays, so it's a happening place most of the day).

Alex was giddy and nervous as we lurched around the lot, out into the alley, up the alley to the other driveway, back into the lot and around, and around and around. I showed him how to park it, back it up, and ease up on the brakes as the car stops so it's nicer for the passenger. By the end of the 20 minutes he was ready to give the keys back to me, so we went for a frappe and to talk about our adventure.

Unless I can figure out somewhere else deserted, we'll have to make do with the church lot for now. Pretty soon he'll have a lesson, and will be ready to drive through a quiet neighbourhood. In the meantime he has been asking me questions about collisions and insurance, so I guess he's really taking this seriously.

Andy and I took our co-pilot lesson last week at the driving school, so we have some idea about how to help Alex through our share of the 60 supervised practice hours that are required before he tests for his "N." In the meantime, we'll be getting to know Alex as a driver and learning how to be patient and encouraging in a new setting - from the passenger seat of my car.

question: how did you learn how to drive?

mompoet - easing up on the brakes a little more every time

Robert and Luci got married

Kathy and Betty and Michele and I have been together since elementary school days. On Saturday, the eldest of all of our children (Kathy's Robert - 24) got married. We had a blast at the wedding, which was an Italian extravaganza of elegance and lavish generosity. These pictures tell the story of our fun time. It's great to get together for happy days like this.

question: how do you keep in touch with old friends?

mompoet - blessed

something about thursday night

I went to family campfire this evening, at the day camp I supervise. It was my first campfire of the 2006 summer season. I've been coordinating this camp for the past 7 years, and we don't actually have a campfire anymore, after wildfires burned homes in several other cities during past hot summers. The camp is at a park right in the middle of our city, and the fire marshall decided it was just not a good risk to light a fire, no matter how well-set and tended.

We act like there's a fire though. But first, we welcome all of the campers and their parents. We let the moms and dads try archery, which is really funny because it looks a lot easier than it is. The kids impress their parents, because they've had some practice during the week. Then we play "Capture the Flag" with moms and dads chasing their kids and each other and the leaders all over the park. Then when everyone is all sweaty and giggling, we sing campfire songs and invite the groups up with their leaders to do corny campfire skits. I usually tell a story, while the leaders get ready to do their corny leader skit, which involves grown-ups dressed up like chickens and always a man dressed in a pink ballerina costume and a maniacal dairy farmer yanking on a rubber glove (I am not exaggerating). Then we all drink hot chocolate, which we used to cook over the campfire, but now we heat on a hot plate. Everyone is happy and relaxed and nostalgic about the fun we had all week. There are thank yous and hugs and "see you next summers" (or next week for the campers who have signed up for more than one week). It's a grand feeling on Thursday evening. After that, the leaders get their 3-day weekend, which is very nice and also needed because Monday to Thursday is exhausting, even for young, strong leaders. I just hang around and soak up some of that good feeling and try to let everyone know how much I appreciate what they've done during the week.

I remember for a few years, beginning with my first full-time job, I worked Sunday to Thursday at the Rec Centre. I liked having Friday off for whatever I wanted to do while everyone else was working, and I enjoyed Sunday at the office - no bosses, few phone calls, and a chance to be in charge of a team of people who mostly worked part time hours and really liked working at the rec. But I didn't know what I was missing. When I finally switched to a Monday-Friday work week I discovered the sweet loose-looniness of Friday at the office. It's like people started shedding their weekday serious-busy selves partway through the day and everyone got more casual and playful as the day went by. Being playful-to-the-bone I always tried to get people to be this way with me on other days of the week, and often they did (sometime I'll tell you about the mini-golf tournament I organized inside the office where my boss turned his office into a water hazard and mine involved a golf ball riding up to the top of a Fisher Price parking garage then rolling down the ramp). But on Friday, everyone just got that way on their own, with delicious and disarming spontanaeity. People said and did things on Friday that you'd swear on Monday must have been a dream. A silly and fun dream, that is.

Thursday at camp is like that. I love Thursday.

question: what makes your favourite day your favourite?

mompoet - still going to work Friday, but I feel like it already started

wordless wednesday

I got a postcard

from Mike McGee in Germany - wheeee!

and it has a picture of Louis Armstrong on it, which is very cool because I have been listening to "Sunny Side of the Street" in my head for the past few days.

question: did you know that Mike is in Vancouver right now?

mompoet - I used to walk in the shade

but I love...

regional dialects

Our lovely Rev Mary at the church is a maritimer. I adore the way she says "on" instead of "un." As in: "We work together to mend what is on-just in our society."

and I met a woman at work who recently moved to BC from Oklahoma. Her words came out all warm and soft around the edges I actually kept talking with her just to listen. It was like music.

The best voices are from Ohio and Kentucky, where the letter r just gurgles along slow and lazy like there's no reason to hurry. Ohio and Kentucky are the only places where it is acceptable to say "uhhhh-huhhh" instead of "you're welcome," just because a midwestern "uhhhh-huhhhh" sounds like a big, dusky blue pillow of yum-yum. (whatever that is)

Okay, this day is almost over so I'm going to depose myself as queen of how we all should talk and go back to being irritating in more conventional ways.

Thanks for putting up with my rant (if you're still reading) - now that would sound much better pronounced by an Ohioan, forrrr surrrre.

question: where do you find your favourite voice?

mompoet - transplanted tongue, homesick ears

If only I had know-wun

It's back, that annoying verbal fad/habit/tic. I keep hearing it on the radio, tv, in conversation. I'm too polite to say something to the person (and it would be silly to talk to the radio anyway). Here's the problem.

"I would never have bought that mp3 player had I know-wun that a cheaper one was coming out the next week."

"Research has show-un that coffee drinkers are definitely crabby in the morning before they drink their coffee."

Interestingly (or not) I think these same pronouncers do not offer their dogs a boe-wun or go out after supper on a hot night for an ice cream coe-wun. So I think it's just for words ending with o-w-n.

I know this is incredibly picky. It's my thing. It sounds like nails on a chalkboard to me. I know that I shouldn't criticize because I don't have perfect grammar or pronunciation or spelling (remember sherbert er sherbet er fruity ice cream?). It bugs me anyhow.

question - how long until I can say that this particular bug has blow-un over?

mompoet - obsessing again

silly sites

petition.com

how to detect lies

how to wash your soccer jersey after the world cup

question: is there anything too silly for the internet?

mompoet - going to read a book

my town

question: how's your town looking these days?

mompoet - exploring

Bestway

Alex is taking driving lessons. He has 3 full days of classroom time, followed by sessions in the driving school car. On Monday evening, Andy and I do our "co-pilot" class to learn how to accompany Alex on practice drives without popping a vein.

I'm pretty calm about it so far, especially considering he'll be practising in my car. I remember I was pretty safe and responsible new driver when I was 16. Or at least I thought I was.

It's a lot longer and harder to get a license now, which is good, I think. Alex will need to log a lot of practice hours before he can test for his "N" license, which he then keeps for 2 years before being fully licensed. The N includes restrictions on how many passengers he can carry, and it's easier to get your N revoked for bad driving than it is to have a regular license taken away. I guess that's good too.

We'll see, anyway. I'll be co-piloting soon.

question: what does your family do in the summer time?

mompoet - still coughing and sneezing

wash your vegetables (a haiku)

a sneeze at Safeway
glistening snot javelins
target broccoli

question: grossed out yet?

mompoet - stand back from the nose, it's loaded

what to do if you can't sleep

Teenager who will not be named: Guess what I did last night, Mom?

Mom: What did you do last night?

TWWNBN: I taught myself to snore.

Mom: Huh?

TWWNBN: It was 12:30 and I couldn't sleep so I just went snnnnzzzz snt snnnnzzz...

Mom: You did?

TWWNBN: Yup. Now I can snore.

Mom: That's good.


question: what do you do when you cannot sleep?

mompoet: beam me up, snotty

stuff on my cat

dotcom

question: what snot to love about...

mompoet - sick

dream-frags

I have been sleeping more than usual this weekend (blasted cold!) and dreaming more... Here's what's been on the dream TV as I channel surf my unconscious mind:

-I wake up in a strange room in a strange house. The kids are with me, but not my husband. The people who own the house inform me that I am in "The Wrong House." These words keep repeating in every conversation through the rest of the dream. In fact, they are the only words I can remember. I try to get the kids and me out of the "Wrong House," but there are tasks to do. The son in the other family needs help with his homework, and I have to clean up the room I wrongly slept in. When we get outside I can't remember how I got to The Wrong House, so I don't know how to get home. The kids are passive. I am in that curious, detached state of dream-believing - not really upset or distressed by the situation.

-I am on a fishing boat. Someone catches a fish. I jump off the boat and swim behind the fish, trying to unhook it so it can swim away. I get jabbed by the fish-hook and bit and kicked by the fish (well finned, I guess). I can't get the fish unhooked. The fish seems not to want to be unhooked. The people in the boat are yelling at me to stop.

question: what do they mean?

mompoet - weird-headed

Mary and George's wedding

Fi had the camera at her show, so I have no photographs to share. But the pictures in my mind are wonderful. Still suffering with the awful cold, I hauled myself out to the church, lugging a jumbo water-bottle half filled with ice, which thankfully prevented any coughing fits.

The wedding was so Mary! Lovely, and small and warm. John, a member of our congregation who is licensed to perform marriage ceremonies, presided. A couple of other minister friends of Mary's did the readings and the meditation. The choir sang and our neighbour Steve (who's in the Vancouver Symphony) played his viola. There were also Marcia on the saxophone, Shelley on the organ and piano, and Chris on the drums. Mary was radiant. George looked the the cat who ate the canary. He's a quiet man, seemingly very modest, but he had this big spilling-over grin that made me want to jump up and shout with joy.

When the ceremony was finished and it was time for Mary and George to walk out of the church, Steve, Shelley, Marcia and Chris played the Maple Leaf Rag for Mary and George to dance down the aisle. What a happy day and a real expression of the creativity and love that fills our church and embodies our identity as a faith community.

I skipped the dance and reception at the legion and came home to the neighbourhood block party for Canada Day. I was starting to feel better. Some cider and some wine and some kahlua and some fireball helped me feel even better. The big water bottle made sure I even felt just fine in the morning.

Today we'll go out to the Golden Spike Day festival at Rocky Point. What a happy weekend, what a lovely Canada Day yesterday.

question: what song would you have played for your exit anthem?

mompoet - tra la la

If I were born 10 or 100 years earlier I would be all primes

Continuing in my obsession with prime numbers, I fixated on birthdays. How many people do you know who have birthdates made up of all prime numbers?

My birthday is November 29, 1961. Eleven and twenty-nine are good, but alas, 1961 is divisible. It would have been okay were I born in 1861 or 1951, but then I would have been somebody else who probably wouldn't have grasped the significance.

You can look up lots of prime numbers here.

question: how much about you is a prime number?

mompoet - 5 is still my favourite

snot

Descriptions of illness symptoms are number three on the all-time list of "boring" (falling just behind "what I ate" and "how I slept" and followed closely by a personal toilet journal). But, I'm sick and I don't often whine, so here it is. Promise, no lists of food, poo or minutes slept, anytime in the near future.

Somebody must have took a long piece of sandpaper and threaded it in through my nostrils, up around through my nasal passages and down my throat. All of the crud that shook loose onto the sandpaper has been deposited on my tongue, where it is stuck. My face just turned into a garden slug onto which somebody has recently sprinkled salt. All of the liquids in my body are seeping out through my eyes and nose, but my lips are dry and cracked. My head is buzzing. I don't have a fever, so I warrant no sympathy.

There, phewww. That's all.

question: how do you feel today?

mompoet - I owe it to you to listen to anything, after that

tyger on youtube

Mom sent me this link, a stunning animated short film based on William Blake's Tyger.

question: how does the future look to you?

mompoet - pre-apocalyptic

happy birthday canada

You are young and beautiful, but you seem are a bit unsure and forgetful. You are Canada. These people are your people, even if the other big country over there insists that they are bad. And there is room in your big, generous self for all people of all kinds, in all kinds of relationships. If you continue to let gay people be married, some people might make fun of you, but it will be worth it. Canada, you seem to be a 16 year old boy, well meaning and earnest but not yet fully aware, and also unsure that you can (and should) do things your own way. You can grow up Canada, you can be okay.

ps You'll need to watch the junk food now, more than ever or you'll contribute to global diabetes.

question: whose birthday at your house?

mompoet - celebrating in my pajamas with a box of tissues and a glass of orange juice (from that big country over there)

scoopla

pistachio, maple-walnut, fudgey-wudgey, pomegranate
wasabi, gorgonzola, strawberry jalapeno
BAAAANNNILLLLA!
rocky road, rainbow, rootbeer, rum ‘n’ raisin
did I miss your favourite?

tiger-tail, bubble gum, blueberry cheese cake
lemon sherbet, lime sherbet, orange sherbet, peach sherbet
butter brickle, dill pickle, chocolate cherry, pumpkin pie
dutch chocolate, chocolate chip, macaroon, cookie dough
BAAAAAANNNILLLLLA!

butterscotch ripple
mango sorbetto
banana tofulati
almond biscotti
chocolate mousse royale
one scoop, two scoop, in a cone in a cup
waffle cone
awful cone
dripping on your pants

soy cream, rice cream, soft serve, hand-packed
happy cream for sad days
friendly cream for fat days
gobble cream for brain freeze
hair cream for food fights
cold cream for hot nights

BAAAANNNNILLLLA!

reese’s, rolo, smarties, skor
one scoop, two scoop, three scoop four
eat it in the car outside of the store
lick the empty carton
go back inside for more

spumoni, tortoni, nutella, green tea
espresso flake, angel cake, amaretto milkshake
hedgehog, mint chip, chocolate on your upper lip
cream burps, wrist slurps, bite the tip and let it slip

BAAAAANNNNNILLLLLA!

tiny little tasting spoon
big sticky napkin
sticky cheeks, sticky paws, sticky ears, sticky feet
napkin on your head and spoon on your nose
scoop it from a bucket
scoop it from a tub
jump right in and splash around - smaka waka dub!

you can’t pick your destiny
you can pick your flavour
put down the celery and do yourself a favour

partway to heaven
back to the womb
as good as the chicka in the chicka chicka boom!

BAAAAANNNNNILLLLA!

question: what's your flavourite?

mompoet - did I mention I have a cold?

city hall haiku for property tax time

park wherever you
like even the mayor's spot
there's free cookies too

question: do you have a time of year when the customer is especially right?

mompoet - I know, you pay my salary!

worldess wednesday

It must be a comedy because they get married at the end

Sunday was Rev. Mary's last Sunday at our church. She's been with us for two years, as planned, and leaves to make way for our new Rev. Tim who will arrive in August. We had a party for Mary on Friday, but I knew that wasn't really goodbye yet. Did I mention I have trouble with goodbye?

The service was very sweet. Mary gave gifts to the children, and she served communion along with her fiance George, who she met at our church. That's what got me. As communion is being served, the choir is singing Holy Ground and I'm just thinking about Mary's kindness and creativity, and how we have grown to love and trust her, and how we will miss her. I couldn't stop my tears. I know I wasn't the only one crying, but I sit close to the front, and I didn't want to get Mary started. I regained my composure eventually, but started up again as Mary put out the altar candles at the end of the service. "That's the last time for her to do that here," I thought. snif

When a minister leaves her congregation in the United Church of Canada, she must attend services elsewhere and keep away from her old church for a period of 2 years. This gives the people time to start clean, building a bond of faith and trust with their new minister. We will miss Mary very much.

The good news is, we have permission to see her one more time. Next Saturday, July 1, she will be married to George at our church. We're all coming to the wedding.

question: did you ever think about how lucky we are that we can love people enough to cry when it's time for them to go do something else?

mompoet - oh gee, here I go again

do remarkable things always come in threes?

The theme of this weekend seems to be "disrupted evening plans."

Friday night Fiona went off to do her show (she's in West Side Story now). Andy was out on his boss's boat for a few hours. Alex and I went to the church for the farewell celebration for Mary Duncan, our outgoing minister. As soon as we had finished supper, and just before the speeches began, my cell phone rang. It was Fiona, calling from the theatre with a fever and sore throat. She'd felt a bit low all day, but now felt awful. I said good-bye to Mary and our friends at the church, dropped Alex off at home and drove out to the theatre. Fiona said she was feeling better when I checked in with her backstage, but I stayed just in case. She made it to the end of the show.

Saturday night, Andy and I dropped Fiona off to the theatre. It's in Vancouver, about 40 minutes from our home, so we decided to stay in town. We drove down to English Bay to stroll and people-watch. We were sitting on the deck at the Boathouse restaurant, enjoying a drink and watching the sunset, when Andy's cell phone rang. It was Fiona. The theatre lighting system had broken down so the show was cancelled midway through, after a few unexpected (and dangerous) blackouts on stage. We paid our bill and came home.

So tonight, I will be meeting with my Vancouver Poetry House friends. We are preparing to host the Individual World Poetry Slam in Vancouver in February. Taylor Mali of PSI (Poetry Slam Incorporated) is in town to inspect venues, go over our plans with us, and generally make sure that we are on track with our preparations. We're meeting in a cafe on Commercial Drive. I will not be surprised by a flood, power failure, or stampede of soccer-crazed people rousting us out of our meeting. I know it will probably be okay, but just to be sure, I'm bringing everything I have in writing so I can hand it over and run for the hills, if this weekend's theme continues.

question: what is it about "best laid plans?"

mompoet - going with the flow

solstice party

Some wore skirts, some did not. Billie Holiday sang. We celebrated solstice together (just a day late). It was a happy Thursday night on our street.

question: good day, sunshine?

mompoet - three feet deep into summer

Twelve Cats-a-leaping

This is my friend Hugo from up the street. In the picture he is not leaping, but he can leap. He hides underneath his family's car and leaps at Soleil when I take her for a walk in the morning.

Carol at A Revision posted a wonderful leaping cat video. You have to see it, even if you are not fond of cats, or leaping, or both, (either?)

question: leapt lately?

mompoet - meow

question

If I were the queen of the marigolds,
And you were the king of concrete,
Would you spread your toes to let me see the sunlight
So I could grow a garland at your feet?

mompoet - stretching up to the sky

wordless wednesday

perfect for solstice? (just making a list for Wednesday)

What is the perfect summer solstice food? What must one wear for summer solstice (include footwear, if any)? In what game or sport might one engage on summer solstice? What is the sountrack for summer solstice? And with whom should summer solstice be spent? Would you read something special for summer solstice? And what might you shout upon the arrival, then later for the departure of the sun on this longest day?

Wednesday will be wordless, but I will be thinking about these things...

question: I think I have asked all of my solstice questions for now

mompoet - crazy for contrasts

oracle-dog haiku

WUFWUF! gerr uu-bup!
uu-bup GERN... huh-Dog-huh-huh
arp grup God's wufwuf!

translation:
MUFFIN! you dropped it!
dropped it TWICE... that's God saying
that is Dog's muffin!

question: do you speak dog?

mompoet - faithful companion to dogpoet

This is a poem that I wrote for my Dad a few years ago because he gave me the moon when I was little

all mine

sure, I've got a moon
she swings 'round on a string
too long to see
too fine to feel
as regular as shooting stars

it doesn't matter what she looks like
perhaps an open face
a pale, dimpled buttock
or just one milky eye
open, closing, open again
in the month's slow cycle

maybe she's a mirror
or a sieve
I use her either way
to reflect the light
or filter brightness
to something more bearable

her moon power pulls sea tides
hastens births
tickles coyotes' lips
wakes sleeping children
makes singers sing songs
poets write poems

and I know she's mine
as she swings on a string
slipping in and out of shadow
with whales's grace


question: did anyone ever give you the moon?

mompoet - Happy Father's Day today, Happy Birthday tomorrow Dad

the language of dreams

I was talking to a friend yesterday. She came to Canada a few years ago from Zimbabwe. We got around to languages, and how many languages our children speak compared to us. I asked her about the language of her dreams. She couldn't answer. She said she supposed she dreamed in the language of her country, but that she had never thought about it. She added that dreams are mostly action, so she was not conscious of language.

Thinking about this made me realise that my dreams are a lot about words and language. I speak only English (grade 12 French does not count as a functional language), so I don't know about dreaming in more than one language. But I know that words and conversation are huge in my dreams. In fact, I have lots of dreams that I remember only as auditory experiences. Loops of words or phrases or even whole conversations, with no visual element whatsoever. Often I'll remember what someone said in the dream, and that will trigger my remembering of what I saw in the dream. The language is foremost. People in my dreams say things, and often tell me things that I remember and think about when I wake up. Sometimes it's more like a song - a repetition of words that I wake up with, ringing in my head like I just heard them on the radio.

When I dreamed about the birth of our son, shortly before he was born, he did a vaudeville act from the gurney on which we were lying in the dream, "And now, for my very first song," he said, "I will sing Happy Birthday - now isn't that appropriate heh heh!" In the dream, I thought to myself, "Hey, new-born babies don't sing happy birthday!" but it was a dream, so it was okay. I also have vivid dreams of people who have died, in which they have conversations with me just like when they were alive. My father-in-law visited me regularly in my dreams, especially while we were living in his house in the months after his death. He talked to me about Andy's mom - hoping she would be okay and saying he was very close and keeping an eye on her, and also about our next baby. I felt reassured by these conversations. They ended shortly before our daughter was born, in a wild dream in which my father-in-law sat beside me on a bench in the sun, and shrank down into a tiny baby in my arms. He said, "We've all been waiting for this. Now it's time."

I've always paid attention to my dreams. Clearly I have lots to say to myself in them.

question: in what language do you dream?

mompoet - I would never make it as a mime

wordless wednesday

haiku about today

mashed potato sky
below: peas, carrots, gravy
we are shepherd's pie

question: did you ever walk around wearing nothing but gravy?

mompoet - thinking it would be sticky and inconvenient

a poem for a day in the life of sam

There are days like an angry story
Drawn on black paper
With black crayons
Thrown to the floor.

There are days like flying across the sea
Like quicksilver cleat-flight
Up the field in perfect motion
Crystallized focus.

There are in-between days
Of gotta-do’s/hafta-pays/deadlines/doldrums
Days of confusion and muddlification
When you’d rather select all, delete, start again.

All of these days are yours
You have made them
They have made you
And there are more yet to come…

Amber-winged dromedary hop-sack days
Pollywog demarrara goon-plank days
Tuscany armoire fill-in-the-blank days
Scratch-wallow gleam-tuck take-it-to-the-bank days

So lace up your nitro-boots, select PLAY and live your days
The best are yours to find, all along the way
All along the hilly-wobble, grand-bramble, toffee-gallop
Way.

Happy high-school graduation Sam...

mompoet - so proud

So much good, not much time

No posts for a few days, but lots of life...

On Thursday I booked off work to help with the staff appreciation luncheon at the secondary school. The PAC ladies served lunch to about 100 teachers, office staff, janitors, even the cafeteria ladies. Our lovely vice-principal volunteered to flip burgers. He even allowed himself to be photographed wearing a hairnet. Good man! The staff loved it and we had fun. Last year there was not enough salad so this year I brought lots extra. This year there was an abundance of salad so I brought mine home we are eating lots of salad. My favourite right now: mixed greens, chopped onions, broccoli, cucumber, green onion, lots of cilantro, artichoke hearts, feta cheese, figs with home-made peppery vinaigrette. I copied it from a restaurant salad I ate. I have to get some chick-peas, though. That's what it's missing.

Thursday night we went to the Awards Night at the secondary. Sat with our neighbours, a half-dozen families whose kids have been in school together since kindergarten and everyone got awards. Alex got Excellence in Work Habits and Outstanding Student - Social Studies 10. Boy are we proud. Especially me, the history major. Alex loves politics and history, so this is great recognition for him.

Friday I helped get ready for the church garage sale, then came late to work (did I mention I love my job?) and Friday night I stood in for Kirsi's husband at a pub night fundraiser for a walking team in the Weekend to End Breast Cancer. Kirsi's son has strep throat, so her husband stayed home, and I got to be stand-in husband for the evening. It's nice being married to Kirsi for a little while, but we decided to split up about 9:30 and I went back to my regular family.

Saturday I went to work for a couple of hours, to Saturday Story Time at Lougheed Mall. We have a Vancouver Sun Newspaper Raise a Reader grant in partnership with the local school, the mall, the public library and the neighbourhood association, for a literacy project. So we hired a coordinator and a storyteller to do a monthly story-time for kids at the mall. It's good fun, and they have to go to the library to put their names in a draw for books to be awarded next month.

Then I power-shopped and actually bought myself some clothes, without having to be in a store for more than 25 minutes, which is best for me.

Saturday afternoon Andy helped me find some more clothes, this time for my sister and her family who will live for a second year in Eritrea. They are outgrowing/wearing out some of their things. Mom and I found most of what they needed earlier in the week, but I was determined to find a couple more shirts for my 15 year old niece, Maya. It's tricky finding fashionable and cool things for a girl living in a country where you can't bare your arm above the elbow, but I found two more tunic-tops that should be acceptable. My brother-in-law's cousin will travel to Eritrea in July. She'll take the clothing with her. Mom and Dad will visit in January. Wish I could go!

Took shaggy boy for a haircut on Saturday afternoon. He is now re-handsomed for a few weeks anyhow. He's starting to shave more often, so he looks pretty nice most of the time. No real beard yet, but lots of blonde scruff when he forgets to shave.

Saturday evening was heaven. Quiet family supper which I actually had time to cook from start to finish. Then the kids disappeared to ends of the house and Andy and I had some wine and a video (well, two really). We watched The Constant Gardener, which was clever and compelling, and Millions which was tremendously sweet and inventive.

Then we slept. I skipped church (which I rarely do) and slept until 10. Then we had a big, slow breakfast and I read the paper and wrote a poem for my godson Sam, who is celebrating his graduation this weekend.

This afternoon I took Fiona to an audition for a fall 06 production of Fiddler on the Roof. I hope she gets in. Tonight, we'll go to Sam's family graduation party.

It's been full of fun with nice rest stops in between. I like this weekend, I do. I do.

question: what did you do?

mompoet - clickety clack

What Pattern is your Brain?

Your Brain's Pattern

Your mind is a firestorm - full of intensity and drama. Your thoughts may seem scattered to you most of the time... But they often seem strong and passionate to those around you. You are a natural influencer. The thoughts you share are very powerful and persuading.

What Pattern Is Your Brain?

Jack Layton Phoned Me

This on our answering machine after work yesterday,

Hello, I'm sorry I missed you. I'm calling to invite you to the NDP's National Convention! I'm Jack Layton and I want to invite you to come to Quebec City on October.....

Sounded pretty good. Guest speakers include Stephen Lewis and Shirley Douglas. Nice of Jack to call me. Too bad I was out.

question: was that nice and funny or kind of crummy?

mompoet - ain't nothing like the real thing, baby

more dreams

Wednesday morning
I have gone somewhere with a friend. As we leave to return to my car I notice that my car is now a brand new bright red lift-back something (can't be a Subaru - they don't make red ones like that). The back and the passenger door are hanging open where the car is parked. We go to look. Someone has broken in. They have left my money, gym shoes, cd player and most of my cds. They took my Peppers cds and my nordic walking poles. I am devastated.

Thursday morning
I've taken my son to a restaurant where he meets a tutor a couple of times a week. While they work, I sit and read a book. It's mid afternoon, between meal rushes. The place is empty. A waitress comes up to me and apologizes, "I'm sorry but the chef does not like you. You will have to leave this place."

Later Thursday morning
An imperious male voice: Get the damn phone! Grab the cell at the top of the bed! I answer but cannot speak. Just fish-mouth "_ _ _ _ _?"

question: what do dreams mean?

mompoet - believing that our dreams are our explorations of self

wordless wednesday

best things about june

• countdown to no homework and no evening practices and lessons
• cantaloupe
• creeping up on solstice (my favourite)
• peonies and irises
• flip flops
• PAC elections
• year-end recitals
• breakfast on the porch
• strawberries
• shorts
• windows and screen doors
• early dawn
• nothing on tv
• the library is still open on Sundays

question: what do you like about June?

mompoet - longest day not far away

life skills haiku

when you say mean things
it does not make you look smart
it makes you look mean

question: none for now

mompoet - still learning too

my town today

Question: Howz your town today?

Mompoet - homebody walkabout slowdown....ahhhhh

for your friday pleasure - weebl & bob's fancy dance jamboree

It's not a cartoon. It's home-made dance videos sent in by forum members. Fun to watch.

question: would you ever send anyone a video of you dancing?

mompoet - wondering why people do this

Proud

*please note, this post has been corrected. I got one of the categories wrong when I posted originally.
Fiona won a scholarship in the Kiwanis Music Festival for Junior Ensemble singing. She shares it with her singing partner. She also won a medallion for best performance of a song from a movie, out of about 25 children her age. The presentations will be made at the honours concert later this month. Add to that, she was mobbed by adoring Cowardly Lion-crazed fans after Wednesday's school performance of the Wizard of Oz. Pretty sweet recognition for her work and talent. And all well-deserved.

I know you'll read this. Good job Fi!

question: isn't it a wonderful feeling to admire your own child?

mompoet - her biggest fan

More Africa

A funny, sad, revealing post from my sister in Eritrea.

question: Would you go, if you could?

mompoet - wishing I could