dreambling

I am at church. Today the children and youth are leading the service. I'm one of the Sunday school teachers, so I'm helping prepare. We have invited a neighbouring congregation to visit and share our worship. Our church is bustling with visitors and our own children, rushing around to get ready for their readings, and a short dramatic presentation that they have prepared. There are props, costumes, music - lots of distraction and activity.

Entering the sanctuary, I notice that the pews have all been removed, and replaced with bleachers, arranged arena-style. The bleachers are almost full, mostly with people I don't know. This increases the tension, as I hope our kids won't be too nervous. A group of pre-teen boys is joking and laughing together in one part of the bleachers.

The service begins, with one of our boys speaking words of welcome. The visiting boys in the bleachers have grown noisier and more disruptive. They ignore our boy. Finally someone from their church signals to them to quiet down.

At this point I leave the service, remembering that I forgot to eat breakfast. I tiptoe downstairs to the hall, and help myself to the table of food already set up for coffee time after service. Someone brought salami, cut into big chunks. I stuff a couple in my pocket and one in my mouth. Then I remember, I have to do a reading, so I run back upstairs with this big piece of salami in my mouth. I try to chew and swallow it in time but I can't, so I slip behind the altar into the corridor that leads to the church offices and search for a place to hide my salami. I'm opening cupboards and drawers and looking for the right place to empty my pockets and put the spit out chunk of salami, but none of the hiding places are right. I'm banging doors in despair when the dream ends.

question: what did you dream about?

mompoet - finding pretty obvious sources for this one

reflecting

We have one of those sign boards outside of our church. One day, upon driving by, I noticed that someone had changed the message to read, "A closed mouth gathers no foot." I thought about what this meant, and phoned the minister to disagree, and request that this message not be left up. It turns out a well-meaning volunteer had posted this as a tongue-in-cheek comment, not meaning to condone censorship, but it could be read that way, so it was taken down.

Re-reading yesterday's post, and having suffered a night of uncharacteristically disrupted sleep, I have decided to remove one foot from my mouth, but not to close it, and also to risk putting in the other in its place.

My own words about the movie Jesus Camp and the families who children are portrayed in the documentary have echoed in my mind. After my blurt of reaction, I began to think about how it would feel if my own criticsms were directed back at me. There are some that I have to retract or rephrase and some for which I'd like to apologize.

First of all, this:

...it was hard to see God in the Christian parents and leaders in Jesus Camp.

I realise that by saying this, I am saying to them the same thing they are saying to others, that their way of seeing God is wrong. This is pretty bad logic and dicey morality, and I would like to change it to say that I disagree with the way these people see God, and believe it to be the opposite of my own understanding that Christians see Christ in everyone they meet.

Next this:

(referring to the children) I hope that some of them will change their minds. Maybe some of their parents will split up, and they'll have a 50% chance of embracing another perspective. (That's kind of an awful thing to hope, but I am hoping it.)

What a terrible thing for me to hope. I would be devastated if somebody wished that of my family just because they disagreed with how my husband and I are raising our kids. It is totally inappropriate for me to suggest such a thing about anyone. I sincerely retract and apologize for this statement.

My Dad pointed me to a review of the movie in the New York Times that suggests another way in which the children might change their beliefs,

The great unanswered question is what will happen to these poised, attractive children when their hormones kick in and they venture beyond their sheltered home and church environments.

Finally, if my comments were construed to indicate that my church is best and/or all Christian Evangelical churches are bad. I apologize for that too. The movie showed one church and gave convincing evidence that the extreme practices and beliefs of this church are growing and spreading. Still, I can't say that this means all evangelical churches do this or that all that they do is bad. I didn't mean to say that, but it could seem like I did, and I regret if it seemed that way.

I remain alarmed and offended by the idea that impressionable children are being taught in some churches the way that children in Jesus Camp are being taught. I disagree strongly and absolutely with a "our way or the highway to hell" understanding of God. I will do my best to express myself, and follow up when I realise I'm out of line. My mouth has room for a foot or two, and they'll surely find there way there again. Better that than to sit silently when I see something that I believe is wrong.

question: did you ever find yourself in this situation?

mompoet - learning to wield the power of free speech with grace and responsibility

Jesus Camp

I was at the video store, checking out some PlayStation game (Alex drove), Oliver (for the actor girl who'll play the role of Nancy in the school production) , Souvenirs of Canada, and Jesus Camp. The young clerk scans the boxes and says, "I've heard nothing but good about Jesus Camp. There are some pretty scary parts in there. You know." Of course, 16 year old Alex's ears perked at this. "Is it a horror movie, mom?" I laughed and told him no. Then I made the clerk uncomfortable for a minute by saying, "We're Christians you know - but not the kind in that movie. They're not the only kind." After that he didn't know what to say. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, but it seems like we should all be able to be what we are and tell how we feel about it, as long is it doesn't harm someone else or take away someone else's right to be and say who they are.

As United Church of Canada people, we are part of a spiritual community that is at the forefront of the church-based peace movement in Canada, and embraces and honours all faiths. We are sometimes jokingly called "The NDP at prayer," which labels as as non-radical but anti-establishment, left-leaning Christian people. We have blots on our history - residential schools and condemnation of homosexuality until the 1960s, but as far as mainstream churches go, we have come around to a different way of thinking, acting and believing about social issues and our place in a large and diverse world. Our church was among the first to ordain gay ministers, celebrate gay marriages, and apologize and work collaboratively with First Nations people to address our wrongs of the past. We recently stopped calling God "he" or "she" for the most part and just say "God" over and over (I never thought I'd yearn for a pronoun, but sometimes it feels awkward). My experience of my own church community (I'm a newcomer - just 5 years in) is that we all have a sense of humour about ourselves and our understanding of God, and we keep learning. We are committed to living our lives as part of the body of Christ, and seeing God in everyone we meet - whether we agree or disagree with that person. But it was hard to see God in the Christian parents and leaders in Jesus Camp.

We watched this documentary at home last night. It would have been funny if it wasn't so frightening and sad. It's about Evangelical Christians in the US, and their work with children - to build an army of committed ultra-conservative Christians to take over world leadership. Pastor Becky, the Children's Minister of a big congregation, and organizer of the evangelical children's camp, admits openly that she would like to see Christian children indoctrinated in evangelical beliefs so they can fight a war for what she knows is right and true. Watching the movie, we met lots of beautiful children who have been taught by their parents and church leaders that there is only one truth, and if you don't believe it and follow it, you will go to hell. We saw the isolation of these children from other influences. The movie says that 75% of all home-schooled kids in the US are evangelical Christians. We saw them learning the importance of influencing the selection of Supreme Court Justices and that the separation of church and state is evil.

I would like to see these kids a few years from now - maybe in a series like the "Up" documentaries of Paul Almond and Michael Apted. I hope that some of them will change their minds. Maybe some of their parents will split up, and they'll have a 50% chance of embracing another perspective. (That's kind of an awful thing to hope, but I am hoping it.) Most likely, most of them will grow up to do an even better, awfuler job of what their parents and leaders are succeeding at now, with their own children. But I sure hope not.

In the meantime, I'll keep thinking and talking about it with our kids, attending my shrinking church, adhering to a non-literal understanding of the Bible, and believing in God as a force of power and love for everyone. I don't think I'm a bad Christian when I say that I think that if there is one true path to goodness and salvation, it's wide, with room for all kinds of walking, talking, believing, worshiping and living. Not like Jesus Camp.

question: have you seen this yet?

mompoet - pondering

CBC and me

I have been asked to participate once again in the CBC Poetry Face Off. This year's theme is "Made in Canada." They're bringing back previous years' participants, so this year I'll be sharing the stage with some very strong writers and performers. I reckon it's like skating with the Canucks (on a good night). In a way it is freeing. I can write just what I want and perform it just as I like. If I win it will be totally astonishing. More likely I will enjoy the honour of being selected for the same category as Barbara Adler, Fernando Raguero, C.R. Avery and Brendan McLeod.

By the way, I sent two photos for the Face Off website. They chose to go with the one they used last year (laughing mompoet wearing white). I wonder why they didn't pick this more recent picture? (hi Valerie! Are you still there?)

I'm taking a different approach preparing this year's poem and I hope it will turn out to be something good. I haven't been writing a lot lately so I'm either going to burst out with something excellent or it will be like coughing up a furball. Hopefully the former.

The live event will be Monday March 5 at Cafe Deux Soleils at 8pm (arrive before 7 for a good seat and some of the cafe's yummy vegetarian food), before the regular slam. They'll play the poems on the radio some time later. When all of the cities are finished with their competitions, the city champs will be on the web for online cross-Canada voting. I'm looking forward to it in a polite, ambiguous, nervous, self-effacing, made-in-Canada kind of way.

question: have you got your stuff in any contests right now?

mompoet - I hope you win.

I didn't think I would do this well...

You know the Bible 75%!

Wow! You are truly a student of the Bible! Some of the questions were difficult, but they didn't slow you down! You know the books, the characters, the events . . . Very impressive!

Ultimate Bible Quiz
Create MySpace Quizzes

Thank you to Carol for steering me to this quiz.

question: how well do you know the Bible?

mompoet - wondering how well I could know it, and agreeing with Carol that it's the actions that really count, more so than the knowledge

ping pong brain

I am half here, half there, ping-ponging from right now, back to the day before yesterday, ahead to next week. I am fuddle-brained and awkward, tired, confused, elated and absent-minded. I put the cheese away in the cupboard instead of the fridge, walked into a counter with my eyes closed in the changeroom at the gym (don't ask my why I was walking around the changeroom with my eyes closed, I'm not sure myself, but it had something to do with having too much hair gel on my fingers), and failed at the simple task of mailing a contract to CBC radio (one empty envelope followed by one unsigned contract - the signed copy neatly filed in my important papers drawer at home). I am prone to writing run-on sentences that make only marginal sense.

I reassure myself that this is the natural outcome of an intense week of maximal brain-usage, emotional buildup and general excitement. This is the wasabi omelette of life that I seek with such determination. If I wanted to be calm and collected, I would conduct myself much differently. Still, I alarm myself with my dunder-headed aftershocking.

I will breathe in, breathe out. Reflect in solitude and in communication with others who shared the experience. I will know what it is to be human and have done something remarkable with other human beings. New things will happen and this will become part of my history, a shiny red and black growth ring with the imprint of a beaver tail.

tra la la

oh crap, where did I put the cat?

question: put that in the wrong place too

mompoet - discombobulated but okay with it

two voices

Seventy-two poets competed at iWPS last week. Even more performed at the open mics and showcases. I soaked up so many ideas, voices and performance styles I can barely believe, let alone explain it.

Of course I have favourites, and being impulsive I chose them on the first night of preliminaries, then maintained that opinion through the rest of the festival. My favourites weren't in the finals, which probably increased my preference for them. They are fresh and different, and I hope to hear more of their work soon.

Brian Ellis is the iWPS rep from Cambridge Massachusetts. I heard him performing in both nights of preliminary competition. I can remember two of his poems very clearly, Cab 95 and I Wake Up. The first is about a part-time job as a taxi driver. The second is a surreal time-life-travel piece about waking up in various experiences. I have scoured the web for something of his in a sound file or even text, but it doesn't seem to be there. It's too bad, because I can't convey in this post the exquisite beauty of his work. It's haunting and jarring in turns. I can't get this phrase out of my mind: "Ninety-five, are you THERE?"

Evy Gildrie-Voyles is from Madison Wisconsin. I heard her also on both prelim nights, and at the Women's Showcase and Anything Goes Slam. At the Anything Goes, she performed a prop poem about her first kiss. Through the poem she holds a rose. Describing the kiss she eats the petals. The ending is spectacular. The other poems I remember her telling are about putting on makeup and about preferring a lover of substantial girth. Her poetry is funny and intelligent and honest and real. It doesn't seem to be on the web anywhere either.

The other poet who is an old favourite, but sticks out in my mind from this festival is Jack McCarthy from Everett Washington. He's been one of my favourites forever. He's all over the web if you look for him, and lucky for us, he comes to Vancouver quite often. Jack was not an iWPS competitor. He hosted the 21st Century Campfire - a story and song showcase, and competed in the haiku slam.

I hope Brian Ellis and Evy Gildrie-Voyles come back soon. In the sea of poets that was last week, these two stood out for me. It would be unfair to say that there is a formula for winning slam poetry, but there are patterns, and their poems did not conform. They did not rant, shout, shake fists, rail against mainstream politics or religion, brag/complain about sex, or tell their stories of abuse. This also isn't to say that these topics aren't worthy, or that they're used up. But they are well and often-used enough that I have mental categories for them.

Brian and Evie's poems at iWPS were different. Their poems were personal and authentic. They connected with experiences that I understood, but told them from a slightly different angle. Their expression was beautiful and provocative. They stand out. I remember and appreciate them.

As for Jack McCarthy. I like him for all of the same reasons, and especially for his wonderful haikus that gave him winning place in the haiku slam. And for coming to Vancouver and just being Jack.

question: did you have favourites?

mompoet - two scoops with a cherry on top

today on YouTube - When Cats Attack

Linked today on Cute Overload. When Cats Attack.

question: k-k-k-kitty?

mompoet - I like cats.

we're done

I am now home from iWPS. I didn't travel as far to get there as most of the people who came, but it has been a journey. After two years of thinking, planning, hoping, arguing, laughing and thanking God and my lucky stars more than once, we did it.

Finals Night was unbelievable. I kept wondering if it was really happening. I kept worrying that I would feel terribly sad when it was over. Then there I was, witnessing a world class poetry competition in the Rio Theatre, where we go to watch movies, in a neighbourhood not far from my home, with my friends around me, all breathing out and saying, "yes! we did it!"

Getting the audience into the sold out theatre was the only stressful part of the evening from what I could tell. Sean McGarragle, our venue coordinator for the evening, marshalled the jigsaw puzzle filling of every seat in the house, while 150 hopefuls stood outside, chilling in the rush ticket line, hoping to grab a seat left vacant by a no-show. A stream of poets went outside to entertain the people who were waiting and hoping to get in. Somebody said, "They never do that at rock concerts, do they?" Staff at the Rio helped us find and fill every nook and cranny so at least some of the people in the lineup had their wishes granted. Even with all that, the show began almost on time.

The competition was incredible. All of the sounds and thoughts from the performance are tumbled together in my head and echoing in my ears, waiting to be untangled. Luckily I wrote down a thought or a few words about each poem I heard so I can remember. I can only think that the judges had an impossible task, discerning who was the best. Judging is hard.

The show was tight and not long, with negligible breaks. Our lovely, lovely volunteers scooted out to the lobby whenever a handful of audience needed snacks or beer or wanted to buy books or cds at the merch table, then scooted back in to enjoy the show. At the end, the tournament organizers invited the host city people (that's us) up on stage for recognition. All through the days of this festival, thanks and praise from poets, officials and audience members has been lavished on us. It feels good to know that we made the right choices and worked hard on the right things to make sure people felt welcome, and the tournament ran smoothly. They clapped and cheered for us on stage. We gave our Artistic Direct, Angus Adair, a special gift - a festival jacket for him to remember his triumph. Then they announced the winners. Ed Mabrey from Columbus Ohio took first place. All of the poets came up on stage and there we were, at the end.

After the show, people stayed for about an hour, visiting in the lobby and on the sidewalk, and participating in the open mic, hosted by RC Weslowski, who put up with the laundry basket loads of heckling we've been saving up all week (we have been pretening to be nice while the Americans visited). Then we headed off to a house party which probably went on all night, although I stayed for just an hour.

I mentioned that I started the evening worried that I would feel terribly sad when it was over. I was surprised to find that I am not sad. At the end of the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word (the festival that we organized a year and a half ago) I felt like the day after Christmas. I sat in the dark at finals night, crying my eyes out. Last night I just felt happy and proud and relieved that it all went off without any major hitches. Today I am home, and glad to be here. I am filled up with poetry and friendship and the satisfaction of a job well done. I think there are a couple of reasons for this different reaction. I guess that iWPS is our second "baby" of a festival, and so easier to enjoy without fear, and also less mind-blowing because I knew what to expect. It's a mellower feeling, more philosophical and less raw, to contemplate what this one means. More importantly, this was really someone else's show. Poetry Slam Incorporated brought the competition here, and we, as host city staff, built a festival around it. Our role as organizers was different. Ownership, if you can call it that, was more at arm's length. The poets and other people were lovely, but fewer were people who I know well and care about deeply. I am less sad to see them all disperse. Finally, I know that Van Po House is a thing of beauty and value that will go on. At the end of CFSW I felt less so that way, even though we already knew we were committed to iWPS less than two years from that time. This second time around has shown us that we can do anything. I'm looking forward to finding out what's next.

Thinking about this helps me know that the important thing about all of this for me is the people who I have worked with to make it happen. Angus, Sean, Randy, Jim, and Steve and all of the other Poetry House friends who contributed to this project are the real poetry in this story. Unlike the poem fragments that are tangled up in my head from one big night, these people are solidly installed in my heart. I am grateful to work with them and be one of them. Thinking about that is the only thing that will make me cry. And it's happy crying.

Question: you make up the question

mompoet - home

ps

BOING

really
a lot

More poetry all the time, all day, all night

Holy smokes I think I'm going to burst. Friday was another day of poem after poem after poem after poem after poem. But first I caught up on some sleep, grabbing a couple of extra hours down time after Fi left for school.

We began with the Women's Showcase. The little Cafe Exotico de Brasil was completely all-the-way full. I co-hosted with Karen Garrabran, poet and slam organizer from Decatur, Georgia. We were scheduled from 2-3pm but ended up going for 90 minutes of poems because we let everyone read who wanted to read (including Karen and me - it felt good to perform a poem at the festival). It was like magic - the talent and intensity of the performers and their work glued us all together into one roomful of laughing, cheering and crying poets and friends. I will always remember it.

I caught part of the Anything Goes Slam next. I missed the first poet, who took off all of his clothes and performed naked in the glass front window of the coffee shop. I did catch some good group and prop pieces (not allowed in the official tournaments, but often more creative and entertaining).

In the evening I was back at Rime Restaurant where I worked as venue coordinator during the competition. This warm, wonderful place was a perfect venue with obliging staff and a great setup for performance. I will return for more of the delectable Turkish food that they serve there. Night two of Preliminary competition was good. The poets performed their 2 and 3 minute poems (the each perform a 1, 2, 3, and 4 minute poem during the course of the competition). After the competition, we had a late night show, the 21st Century Campfire (stories and music). I stayed for part of it, and pretty much laughed my head off at some of the stories which I cannot repeat in this blog, partly because it is a G-rated blog, and partly because I could never do them justice. I stumbled in the door at home after 2:30am.

Now I'm getting ready to pick up trophies for the winners. Finals is tonight at the Rio Theatre. I'm going to help set up, then come home and sleep for a couple of hours. It's going to be an almost all-nighter tonight. The top 12 poets will compete for the title, then there's a party that begins around midnight.

I'll be sad when this is over, but totally satisfied with how well it went. I have fulfilled my plan to meet people, enjoy new experiences and have fun - more so than I even imagined.

question: what just happened?

mompoet - stunned and smiling

top of my head blown off

Just a list today of new things that have wrenched my heart with shocks of joy and recognition, popped open the top of my skull and sent my brain cartwheeling into the sky:

• iWPS registration
• the bout draw - hooray for all the poets, and now 3 from Vancouver in the show
• haiku slam (one hand clapping, two hands clapping, no hand clapping)
• Joaquin Zihuatanejo of Dallas Texas as a super-villain of the barrio
• Brian Ellis of Cambridge Massachusetts - #95 are you there yet?
• Evy Gildri-Voyles of Madison Wisconsin boiling the noodles and draining the noodles
• bamya at Rime Restaurant (mmmm okra)
• Ansel Appleton of Montague City Massachusetts about love
• Benjamin IQ Sander of Memphis Tennessee performing without his shades
• the amazing clockwork of an official bout, like ballet - more work that is apparent to the audience, makes flying look easy (my new heroes - PSi mcs and bout managers)
• volunteers - oh how I love volunteers - loving to work and working with intelligence and zest
• my pillow, calling to me sweetly with a song more seductive than any Erotica Reading

I made it home by 1:45am. I felt exhausted, emptied and refilled. More today.

question: have you seen my brain

mompoet - levitating

Nelson is going to Ireland Today

I was sitting in my pajamas blogging about iWPS, when the phone rang. Kirsi is leaving this morning for a two-week visit with her friend Della in Ireland. She wanted me to bring Nelson over to her house so he can go with her to Ireland.

I ran over there in my pajamas and slippers, and managed to snap a photograph of Nelson just about to go into Kirsi's suitcase. Doesn't he look happy? The shot is a little blurry because I had to get the camera out of my frozen car, and the lens kept fogging up.

I think Kirsi will have a wonderful time in Ireland. Nelson is a lucky, lucky rat. Thank you Kirsi. Bon voyage Nelson.

The first day of the Individual World Poetry Slam

Wednesday was a whirlwind day, with unexpected twists and a good ending.

I started out at the gym. Working out always sets me up with more energy and better focus for the rest of the day. I hope I'll have the energy to go again on Friday morning, but maybe I'll need the sleep more than the rev-up. We'll see.

During the day I mostly ran errands. I ordered tournament trophies at the trophy store, did a bit more copying and laminating, went to Costco and got water for the tournament officials, then met our production coordinator at the music store to pay for the rental of sound equipment. While I was at Costco, my cell phone rang. It was a Canada Immigration official who had stopped one of our festival volunteers at the border. I had to fax a work schedule and job descriptions, plus a letter we have citing a section of the immigration policy manual in order to help the official determine that the volunteer did not require a work permit in order to help out for 3 days at our festival. I'm grateful for my cell phone and for fax machines. Without them, this volunteer would probably have been sent home. Getting poets and volunteers across the border has been one of our biggest concerns. The majority of competing poets and all of the tournament organizers come from the U.S. Good preparation and communication have been part of our plan. So far it's working relatively well.

By 4pm I was at the festival hotel to meet with volunteers and help with registration. My friends and fellow host city committee people, Sean and Angus were there, along with a mix of Vancouver and out-of-town volunteers. I finally got to meet the volunteers and Poetry Slam Incorporated people with whom I have been corresponding by email for the past few months. It was great to put faces to names and start to work together. Early registration went well. Poets are cool people. Volunteers are my heroes. I felt a lot of excitement, and everyone was happy with our host city committee's level of preparation and welcoming hospitality.

After a short volunteer meeting we headed over to the restaurant where the Aboriginal and Last Chance Slams were going. The volunteers and I were late because of our meeting, and the restaurant was already packed, with a sign on the door that said "FULL." For a few minutes it looked like we wouldn't get in, which would have been mighty disappointing, but we squeezed in, and in short order, all of the volunteers found seats. People kept arriving at the door, so I spent most of the night asking people to wait outside, and letting in a few at a time. At first I was really disappointed. I was looking forward to seeing the show, and here I was now, after a day of running around and serving people, stuck out in the foyer, being the gracious enforcer. I could hear just snippets of the poems, and lots of laughter and applause... Then I decided to make the best of it. I ordered supper, which the delightful restaurant staff served at the bar with warmth and good humour, and I chatted with the other people stuck in the waiting area. The restaurant servers got into the spirit, and put on a bit of a show for the customers, chatting and joking. The tension began to ease.

There was this vestibule off in the corner where I had to get people to stay put until we could move them into the restaurant, but at least they were warm. I got my schtick going about this little antechamber being the uterus of the restaurant. The people who reached this spot were now warm and protected, not into the show yet, but in gestation. In the fullness of time, they would be birthed into the room where the poets were performing. People were good-natured about the waiting when we started to have fun with it. By the end of the evening the room had given birth to everyone and even the latest-arrivers could get close enough to at least hear the last few performances.

All the while, the restaurant managers and servers were good sports. The place is called La Rocca, on Commercial Drive. The food and wine were very yummy. The people are super-friendly, and got right into the poetry, listening as they were taking care of the customers, and surviving an obstacle course of people parked on the floor and leaning up against the wall beside tables. We gave them all free tickets to the Van Slam at the end of the evening. They helped make a hectic-starting event stay friendly and fun.

Today there's more registration, the bout draw and another volunteer meeting, the Haiku and Mother Tongue Slams (day events) and the start of the official tournament with Preliminary Bouts, followed by the Erotica Reading late at night. In the evening I'm coordinating at one venue, where I'll be posted early on so I hope I'll get to see most of the show. Even if I don't, last night showed me that the show outside the show is almost as good. I would not have missed it for the world.

question - did you every make lemonade?

mompoet - I like mine with lots of lemon

dream haiku

you told me your dream
red subaru two-for-one
gift in the telling

but I couldn't so I did the next best thing

Ever since I've got involved with the Vancouver Poetry Slam, I have wanted to go to a national/international event. Poets travel to these things to meet, compete, participate in showcases, hang out and absorb each other's presence, talent and friendship.

Being a working mom and wife with teenagers and a dog and cat and house, I have chosen not to go. If I ever made it onto a team, I'd go of course, but that's not likely at the moment, with all of the talented poets in Vancouver who dedicate a lot more time and work than I do to writing, performing and touring. I'm happy with my place in the Van Slam scene. I compete when I want to, volunteer, and even host once in a while. We have a growing pool of talented performers right here in Vancouver, so any time I go to the slam, I'm sure to hear new work from poets I know already and see new faces joining the scene. My friends in the slam community are probably the best thing about it. We are good people who well work together and have a lot of fun. Still, I'm jealous when poets head out on tour to perform at venues in other provinces or countries, and especially when they go to Nationals or the Individual World Poetry Slam - the big slam competitions that draw poets from all over North America and beyond.

So far I have satisfied my craving for poets from out of town by enjoying the feature poets who come to Vancouver from other cities to perform at our slam and other events. In 2005 we hosted the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word. I met poets from all across Canada and Great Britain and heard more voices in one week than I thought I could in a whole year. That was good.

Also in 2005, our Vancouver spoken word community, organized in Vancouver Poetry House, decided to put in a bid to host the Individual World Poetry Slam in 2007. Our bid was accepted and we've been planning and preparing ever since. I guess if I couldn't go to Nationals or Indies, I could help bring them here to Vancouver.

Today is the day. Early registration and the Aboriginal and Last Chance Slams are this evening. The official competition begins tomorrow and runs through Saturday and there are daytime and late night showcases, even a skating party and ball-hockey game. And here I am, in the middle of it. As a member of the Host City committee I'll help make sure everything runs smoothly. I'll also get to meet more poets, hear more poems and find out what it feels like to be part of THE BIG SHOW! Sitting here in my pajamas at the computer it still doesn't feel real, but it will soon enough. Today I will run a few errands for the festival, then arrive at the festival hotel late-afternoon for a meeting and to help with registration. My plan is to soak up as much of this as I can, meet as many people as I can and have fun with my Vancouver friends, and all of the new ones I'll be making this week. At the end of it I can say, I have been to a national poetry slam event.

It's not every day that I get one of the things on my "I have always wanted to..." list. Today is one of those days.

question: did you ever find a way to do something that you thought was un-doable?

mompoet - lucky, lucky, lucky (oh yeah, and smart too)

dreamballs

I have been dreaming like crazy every night for the past week or so. So much dreaming that I can remember just bit of it, but I think the parts you remember are the important ones.

Here are some fragments:

I'm with my family, camping with friends. We go out for the day and return to find our tent and all of our belongings stolen. Where will we stay?

Andy and I invite two couples from the neighbourhood over for supper. Our friends are sitting in the dining room as we put food onto the table. We keep running in and out of the kitchen saying, "wait! there's more!" After about an hour of manic table-loading we discover that our friends have given up, left without saying good-bye, and gone for supper somewhere else.

The family is going on a vacation that we have planned for a long time. I took care of getting passports. I forgot to get one for myself.

It's late at night and nobody has walked the dog today. I take her outside, get in the car and drive around the neighbourhood with the dog sitting in the front seat. There. Now she's gone for a walk.

I have not dreamed any memorable surreal dreams for the past while, just these ordinary life gone slightly askew kinds of dreams. I've been waking up tired like I worked hard in my dreams to make things turn out, but things keep happening to frustrate my intentions or I make wrong choices and end up disappointed.

I think our dreams reveal to us how we are feeling about what's happening in our waking hours. They illustrate to us our response to our experience with some of our daytime thought-censors turned off. I'll have to think about these dream-bits and figure out what they're telling me. It could be central and important, or just some firing-off of reactions around the edges - like how my leg twitches when I'm about to fall sleep, taking the last few steps that I didn't take but meant to during the day.

question: do you remember your dreams?

mompoet - sometimes amused, frequently confused, always bemused

intensity

It's iWPS week, something for which we've been preparing for a couple of years. On Wednesday it will happen. By Sunday it will be over. It feels like just before a Christmas we have never experienced, and we're responsible for it going well.

This week, 72 performance poets will come to Vancouver to compete for the title of Individual World Champion. A few hundred audience members each day will enjoy the shows. Our little committee of six people has planned, prepared, promoted and even sold all of the tickets. We'll be joined by about the same number of people from PSi - the big Poetry Slam organization that puts together this tournament and the summertime "Nationals" for slam poetry teams. Together we will make the tournament and surrounding festival events happen.

I feel energized and mostly confident, thanks to this great team I'm working with. We did it once before in 2005 at the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word. This festival is almost like a second baby. We know what we've got ourselves into this time, and what we want to do differently and the same as last time. We also know it will be overwhelming - stressful and wonderful simultaneously, and that every one is different, no matter what you do.

I have most of the week off work to rest up for late nights, and run around doing errands during the day if I'm needed. There are daytime shows on Thursday and Friday and a skating party and ball hockey on Saturday afternoon. Saturday night will be finals night followed by a party and I know I'll cry. This baby flies out the window before the light of dawn Sunday. In the meantime, I'm ready to enjoy the show, meet lots of great people and see/hear/feel poetry like I never have before.

question: are you coming?

mompoet - boggled in a good way

my favourite gizmo

I don't much like many gizmos. I do have a palm pilot with a keyboard, and this home computer that I'm using to post my blog works pretty well too, but I don't go out searching for more gizmos just for the sake of gizmos.

The one gizmo that has totally blown me away is my braun 3D electric toothbrush. We bought it when Alex got braces, which was about 2 1/2 years ago. I'd never used an electric toothbrush before but I do like to brush my teeth. a lot. There's something about smooth, clean, fresh-tasting teeth that is very nice. Anyway, within about a day of getting this thing I was sure I could never live without one again.

Here's a yahoo video of someone explaining why he likes the braun 3D. I agree with everything he says. I'm also glad he didn't do a demo. You just have to try one for yourself.

The best part? Our friend Robin bought it for us. It was on sale at Costco when we were on vacation, so I gave her the money and she bought it.

That has to be the world's best gizmo: clean teeth + I didn't shop for it myself + still works fine after 2 years plus. Even better than my palm pilot. Definitely better than my cellphone. Probably wouldn't trade it for a computer, but I would have to give that some hard thought before I could be sure.

I know I mentioned a bread machine in a previous post. I do have that. But Andy bought it. I just went along with it, although I'm the family bread-maker so I'm the one who uses it. I did nix the rice cooker and the juicer, although we do have a waffle iron and a microwave. And a wine corker, and a really nice garlic press, but those are low tech and necessary for a minimal quality of life. They also contribute to the need for a good toothbrush.

hmmm now I want to brush my teeth.

question: what's your favourite gizmo?

mompoet - procrastinating

haiku movie review

the delicate art of parking

open the window
enforcers are people too
local gem with heart

question: did you see this?

mompoet - I like little movies with big heart

if you buy neither feminine hygiene products nor individually-portioned yogurt, you can skip this post

I hate to shop. For anything, anywhere, ever.
But, I have discovered an all-time ultimate hateable shopping experience. And not just one, but two:

Feminine Hygiene Products

"pads" to be specific
Did you ever try to find a specific product in the huge array of items available? Did you try to do it when your perception and judgement were clouded by pms? It's nearly impossible, even for a level-headed and experienced consumer. First you have to locate your preferred brand, which narrows it down to about 18 linear feet of shelf-space. Then you need to make a bunch of other combination and permutation decisions: light, medium or heavy protection? scented or unscented? wings or no wings? long, slim or normal? monogrammed or generic? (I made that one up) and now the latest choice: with or without a personal wipe attached to each pad for a "shower fresh feeling every time." YAAAAKKK! To make it more complicated, the manufacturers change the package and labelling about every 2 months so even if you memorize what colour and what picture, you won't find what you want.

Then there's Yogurt

First you find your brand. Then you choose from: no fat, low fat or "creamy." Then you have to decide on sweetener - natural, sugar, artificial, no sweetener? Then there are the multi-paks of 3 flavours that you or your kids like plus one that everyone hates, thus the heap of "vanilla-pumpkin-loganberry" yogurts at the back of the fridge that came attached to the strawberry, and blueberry and raspberry ones that everyone likes. They all look the same and they all have weird names like "Source" and "Svelte" and "Swoop" and "Sinus" (I made that one up).

By the time I find pads and yogurt and make it home I'm a wreck. Could we possibly just give up on these products and live happier lives?

question: does anyone know why these products are marketed to confuse?

mompoet - not a good shopper at the best of times, terrible when I'm pmsing and needing to buy lunch food for my family

anniversary joke

Brian at cycle class told us a joke. I'm telling it here in honour of my Mom and Dad's 50th Wedding Anniversary, which is on Friday, February 2.

A man was being interviewed about his long and successful marriage. The interviewer asked, "You've been married to your wife for almost 50 years. What's your secret?" "Well," the man answered, "You have to be really nice to your wife, and do something extra special on your 25th anniversary. For example, I took my wife to Paris on our 25th." "Oh, that's very nice of you," said the interviewer, "What do you plan to do for your 50th?" The man answered, "I think I'd better go back there and bring her home now."

question: I wonder why my parents chose February 2? Are groundhogs especially romantic?

mompoet - I know, I know, it was a Saturday, and Valentine's Day was not. Happy Anniversary Mom and Dad!

I'm back

BOING
BOING
BOING
I was not boinging on Monday - I still felt like crap.
I can't even remember Tuesday. What happened to Tuesday?
I made it to the gym Wednesday morning, and again today, Friday. And I liked it. I intended to take it easy but I didn't. I felt too energized to go slowly.
I woke up at 3:30 Thursday morning thinking "Cripes, I set the bread machine timer wrong - I can smell it and it smells done!" (It was not done, it had just finished mixing the dough and I was smelling yeast all the way up from the kitchen, through the bedroom door and under my quilt.)
I woke up again at 4am Thursday morning, and instead of saying, "Oh yeah, I can sleep some more, zzzzz..." I said, "Why isn't it morning yet? What's taking so long???
I am jazzed, definitely and completely.
Air tastes good, water tastes good. I want to chase something.
I have had 3 good hair days in a row.
I like my butt.
Well, there, now that's probably too much information, but you get the idea. I think I have finally shaken the smothering ennui that wafted in with this bad head cold that I have been fighting since before Christmas.
I am interested in the world again and want to do something about it.
Yay! I missed my zest. I'm glad it's back.

question: do you know this feeling?

mompoet - it's a good feeling

some of the good press about iWPS

I just found out that we have pretty much SOLD OUT THE SHOW!!! Oh, there'll be a few tickets at the door if any of the venues are not filled by passholders, and maybe even a spare pass or two if all of the will-calls don't come to call. But we're sure to have packed houses, jumping with poet energy and the most remarkable performances we have ever seen.

Here's a story in the local news that tells what it's all about.

question: have you got your tickets?

mompoet - flying close to the sun

Haiku Movie Revew

Inspired by Stephen's post (which was inspired by another blog - you can follow the links).

Kinky Boots (warning - contains spoiler)

steel-shanked pink sex shoes
factory saved, true love found
niche marketing rocks

question: what have you seen that you can tell in seventeen syllables?

mompoet - thinking about haiku barbeque assembly instructions

like this

watch

when you are sad

don’t cry salt-cracker tears into your gumbo
or slug-track your sleeves with someone else’s glue
don’t pop a cork into your blowhole, then hop up and down until you implode
don’t pick up a stick to snap the piñata that’s been mocking your misery

try something else unrelated
like building your very own HOV lane rangoli
with marigold mandalas and asymmetrical heaps of coloured rice
just moments ahead of the serious onset of concrete mixers
or maybe just an unfortunately paced SUV
it doesn’t matter

draw a duvet on the sidewalk and fall into it
pull it up around your elbows and let the feathers tickle your tarantula
look the sun square in the eye and ask it to explain photosynthesis
then laugh and say, “Yeah right, like YOU know anything about it!”

calculate a sonata for kazoo and cantaloupe
play it backwards and listen for the secret meaning
challenge cause and effect to an umbrella wrestle
use a mental detector to find your inner rubber chicken and take it for a gallop around the pond

understand that beauty and sadness are both absurd as sardine smiles
arbitrary as antelopes
that they have an uncanny knack of showing up in clumps like stray gnus
always at the wrong place and the wrong time
without reservations, and inappropriately dressed

it’s likely that none of this will help you feel better
so what? try something else
you can be sure the same thing that didn’t work yesterday
won’t work today
you might as well enjoy some silliness while you wait for next geranium candelabra to arrive

wordless too (except for some yelling and crashing)

watch

(almost) wordless wednesday

laughing always makes me feel better

Oh my, laughing does feel good. I just cackled loudly enough to alarm my children. Check out Lazy Daisy's blog for a list of song lyrics re-written for people "our age."

question: what do you think is funny?

mompoet - I like funny

better is a relative term

I think I am starting to feel better. I still have this yukky, snorky, coughing, dripping cold that has sapped my energy for almost a month. I lack energy and creativity. I'm getting things done, but not feeling satisfied with my accomplishments. I mostly want to sit there and look out the window.

But I do feel better.

Better, like The Globe and Mail is better than the Province
Better, like vanilla pudding is better than jello
Better, like vacuuming is better than cleaning the cat litter box
Better, like a hangnail is better than a nosebleed
Better, like junkmail is better than a telemarketer
Better, like a hole in your sock is better than a hole in your underpants
Better, like maybe some day in the future I will feel like saying


BOING!

but not yet.

question: are you feeling better?

mompoet - accepting in degrees what I would prefer to receive as a unit

Where to go?

Two important meetings are scheduled for February 7
1. School meeting (the continuing process of fighting to keep our neighbourhood school open)
2. Transit meeting (talking to City Hall about the new light rail transit planned to come down our main street and the safety concerns around a busy intersection near the high school)

Growing and shrinking. They're natural processes, but complicated, and negotiable.

question: which would you attend?

mompoet - heart in two places, at least on Feb 7

how much news is too much?

A murder trial begins today in BC Provincial Court. Already we have read and heard details of the lives and disappearances of the women who were killed and the anguish of their families. So far we have not heard much about the life of the accused, Robert Picton, or his family. Soon we will know more than most of us need or want to know.

The trial is predicted to take over a year. It will be in the newspaper, and on radio and TV every day. Journalists from around the world are here report about it.

I have decided to consciously minimize my exposure to the news about this trial. Knowing all of the details of the crimes and the daily court proceedings will not help me be more compassionate. The lives of the women who were killed will still be lost. Their families will still grieve. At the end, maybe justice will be served. I don't know.

I do know that if I soak up the details and envision the horror and sadness of the stories that make up this case, I will be sadder, more discouraged, less optimistic. So I'll skip the pages in the newspaper, tune out the tv and radio, and focus on other things. I know we'll have to talk with this kids about it, so I'll need to have a basic idea of what's going on. I just don't need the salacious details that I know will be the focus of media coverage.

I am not ignoring the awfulness of the crimes, just choosing not to participate in the media frenzy. In the meantime, I will try to keep doing what good I can in the world, to support safety, dignity and care for all people.

question: have you thought about how you will manage your knowledge about this case?

mompoet - sad and determined

Talking with (Almost) Teenagers about God

I led Sunday School today at church, for the pre-teen group, which happens to be all boys. I mostly use discussion, and this day the actual teenagers were all sleeping in at home or staying upstairs for the service, so we got the cool little "Teen Followers" den to sit in, with comfy couches and throw pillows (emphasis on "throw"). We started out talking about what's been happening during the week, how is "back to school after Christmas" treating them etc. We had quite a colourful discussion about movies they have all been to see (Jackass 2 on dvd and Borat in the movie theatre, it turns out). I invited them to explain to me what 11 and 12 year old boys think is funny, and that was a funny conversation in itself. Somehow I successfully segued into today's conversation topic, which was "what does it mean to be part of the body of Christ?" Somehow the magic happened, and in between tossing pillows and cracking up laughing, they engaged in an interesting conversation about whole bodies and incomplete bodies, with reference to the individual's body, the world and universe and our own church community, and how it connects to the idea of Christ's body in communion and the world today. I thanked the boys at the end of the hour for their good conversation and told them truthfully that I had learned some things from them. This is such a cool age to work with when you catch them in a receptive moment. They are smart and insightful, with strong instincts and developing altruism. They are idealistic and justice-oriented, and if you're lucky, they'll tell you, and each other, about it. I'm always shaking a bit in my boots when I go in to teach, not being an expert on the Bible or religion, but I think it ends up being to my advantage. There's not much I can teach them that they're not already figuring out themselves, so we take the journey together. The scriptures reading and the curriculum are a helpful guide, and my Sunday School Coordinator is wonderfully supportive and resourceful. But mostly it's the kids. Thank God for the kids.

question: have you talked with an 11 or 12 year old lately?

mompoet - boggled by brilliance (and a bit too much information about Borat)

Vancouver is about to explode with poetry

Here's a link to our website.

This has been in the works for the past couple of years. A small but mighty Vancouver Committee has teamed up with the people from Poetry Slam Incorporated to put on a Slam Poetry Competition like we've never had here before. Lots of free day and late night events, and a festival pass for just $35 Canadian.

I can hardly wait!

question: what are your plans for Jan 31-Feb 3?

mompoet - getting ready to help host the "Indies"

Gosh, now I really want an iPhone

Watch.

Thanks for the link, Dad.

question: do you want an iPhone?

mompoet - I miss the time when we didn't carry our phones in our pockets

Sundance

Oh, would I ever like to go to the Sundance Film Festival.

Here's an article about Steve Buscemi. One of my favourite actors.

I am now officially procrastinating by blogging, so I will list the rest of my favourite actors (male only - I'll think about female actors another time), and also my non-favourites. Then I will go to work (maybe).

Favourites besides Steve Buscemi

Tim Robbins
Ed Harris
Edward Norton
Michael Caine
Anthony Hopkins
Gary Busey
Rob Schneider
John Candy (I miss him)


Used to like them but not so much anymore

Gary Sinese
Robert DeNiro

Un-favourites - not that they're bad, I just don't get what all the fuss is about

Brad Pitt
Russell Crowe
Hugh Grant - okay, he's bad. I call him "Mr. Stammer and blink." I don't think he acts. I think he just shows up as Mr. Hugh Grant and that's old now.

So now you know that I can be kind of mean when I'm procrastinating. I will now stop, and go to work and be nice, but on the way I'll stop by the video store, return Absurdistan and find something else good.

question: what do you do when you are procrastinating?

mompoet - clickety click

Another movie

I stayed home this morning and watched Born in Absurdistan, an Austrian movie made in 1999. It's about two couples in Vienna whose babies are switched at the hospital. One couple is deported to Turkey and the other couple (the husband is an Austrian immigration official) go to Turkey to find their baby. It's lightweight and romantic, but makes some good points gently. The director uses a device of re-playing some scenes more than once, so you see the action from a different point of view. This is really effective and is, I think, the main point of the movie.

There's not much on the web about it, but you can read a negative review here on IMDB. I found the review almost as entertaining as the movie.

Without spoiling the outcome, I'll say that the ending of this movie is not realistic, but satisfying anyway. I viewed and enjoyed it as social commentary, which I prefer to have served up with curiosity and playfulness. This is a loveable movie, but not silly. I fell for the characters and the situation, and enjoyed the outcome. I recommend it, definitely.

question: what movies have you seen lately?

mompoet - enjoying my new year's resolution

not either, but better

butter and silk
yup
mmmmm

question: is it possible to make more space to move around inside your body?

mompoet - glidey insidey

treatsy

hee hee ha ha, I get a massage! Tomorrow is Wellness Committee employee massage day at work. I'm going first thing in the morning before I go to my office. When I arrive there, I will either be sparky and invigorated like a purple pipecleaner, or molass-easy and pretty un-productive for the rest of the day. We'll see.

Oh yeah, before that I'm going to get the oil changed in my car, I wonder if it will be like a pipecleaner or a chair full of goo? hopefully neither.

tra la la

question: did you ever get a massage at work?

mompoet - it's not as ookey as you might think

speaking (or not) of froot

link

wordless

A quiz for Sunday

Quizbox still isn't talking to the new blogger, but you can take my new Apathy Quiz right here (if you care).

question: do you care?

mompoet - I am a cotton-head and I still care

They are trying to close our school again

A few years ago the School Board did a "consolidation" of elementary schools. In response to declining enrolment, they reviewed 8 schools and closed 3. I helped lead the campaign to keep our mighty little neighbourhood elementary school (about 180 children, kindergarten to fifth grade) open.

Now they're at it again. Numbers are down further, and projected to continue to decline. Our little school is about 80% occupied, but the bigger school near by could easily absorb all of our kids with room to spare. Alex and Fi are now in secondary and middle school, so we don't have anyone enrolled at the elementary any more, but it's an important part of our community that we support wholeheartedly. If it closes, our neighbourhood will lose one of its anchors.

There's a meeting at the school Monday night. Stakeholder will present to school district staff who will write a report that will come out in February, recommending which schools to close. I'll be at the meeting to give my love and support to the parents who are leading the charge this time. It doesn't feel so hopeful this time. But still we can hope.

question: did you ever fight to keep something that was important to you?

mompoet - heavy-hearted

this is the cold that

never ends
yes it goes on and on my friends
somehow you started sneezing it
not knowing what it was
and you'll continue coughing it
forever just because
this is the cold that never ends
yes it goes on and on my friends
somhow you started snotting it
not knowing what it was
and you'll continue snorting it
forever just because
this is the cold that...

question: got kleenex?

mompoet - don't catch this if you can help it!

craving

Campbell's tomato soup (with spinach added). I got both at Safeway on my way home last night. Most of the household are chicken noodle people, so we usually don't have tomato on hand. Now I got me a 12-pack (soon 11).

question: what's your comfort food?

mompoet - that and white cheddar mac and cheese - "President's Choice" - hopefully not GW

frozen solid

Crack Head

It snowed here Wednesday, and froze overnight Thursday. I have been avoiding driving during rush hour and at night. I know I can get around, but why add one more vehicle to the slipperiness out there? We get so little snow and ice here, a couple of days of re-adjusting schedules does not hurt a bit.

Yesterday afternoon our daughter and two friends went sledding at the neighbourhood park. It has spectacular hills, and they have the new foam core super-slipperly sleds. I was delighted that 13 year olds still want to go sliding at the park.

About an hour after they went out, they returned. Fiona looked a bit strange, and told us that she had crashed into the metal pole on a chain link fence surrounding the tennis court that sits at the bottom of the hill. I asked for details of the crash and asked the usual questions to assess if she might have a concussion: dizziness? nauseau? let's see your eyes, headache? I asked her friend if Fi lost consciousness at all, and it sounds like she stayed conscious, although she did not remember the moment of impact. I decided that we'd better watch her and also wake her up a couple of times during the night in case it was a concussion. First aid: hugs and "I'm glad you're okay."

Red Neck

Then Fiona noticed that the back of her neck was red with dried blood. I checked her scalp and found a pretty impressive cut. So her friend went home, and Fiona and I drove to the hospital.

Numb Skull

Luckily Emerg was quiet when we got there. The doctor froze the area, cleaned it up and put 7 staples in to close up the cut. Back at home we had a late supper (Andy took over cooking when we determined a trip to the hospital would be necessary) and some ibuprofen. The headache felt better and Fi phoned her friends to tell the story.

I'm glad it wasn't worse, and I'm proud of how brave she was. Getting staples in your head can't be anybody's favourite thing to do! The staples will come out in a week and there may be a small scar, but it will only ever show if she decides to shave her head.

In the meantime, we have a healthy crackhead, red neck, numbskull kid. The night-time drive wasn't even so bad. Funny how your perspective changes when your child needs help.

question: did you ever get stitches or staples?

mompoet - still dispensing hugs as needed

weeeeebl

New cartoon from weebl & bob.

question: are you allergic to cat pants?

mompoet - Once I had a bird hat but it flew away

Jan's Tree at Night

It snowed so much than Andy and I each shovelled twice. When nighttime came, the neighbours came out to do one last clearing of their driveways. It was like a party out there. There were kids and babies, moms and dads. Shovels were shared and war stories told of the drive to and from work during the day. Most of the Christmas lights on our houses are out now, but our neighbour Jan has left her tree lit up. I'm glad.

question: did you every have a party by accident?

mompoet - marvelling at winter's surprises

I know it's Wednesday, and I'm supposed to be wordless, but geeeee...

I'm just looking at the new Avon catalogue, and I would like to award Avon the prize for the purplest prose ever.

Here are some luscious samples:

be...tempting eau de toilette
A breathless floriental bouquet
(floriental? I guess that's better than Afghantabulous or Venezualianted but still...)

be...tempting bath products
A captivating collection that goes from the bath to the boudoir, and everywhere in between
(like the hallway? the towel closet?)

Good Luck Purse Charm (jewelry for your purse)
Jade-like focal stone teamed up with green pearlized beads and lucky charms (horseshoe, clover and elephant) on a silvertone chain, Lobster closure
(Gotta have one of those lucky lobsters on my purse charm, yup!)

Ultra color rich lipstick
Avon's Intuitive Technology reads your lips and self-adjusts the creamy richness
(artificial intelligence applied to lipstick? Read my lips!)

I also learned that I need to get the static out of my eyelashes, and that I can buy special teabags made just for soothing tired eyes. ($5.99 for 10 teabags)

Avon has a lot of good products, and some excellent values, but some parts of the catalogue are a bit over the top. It makes for a fun read! I once thought it would be fun to write copy for a greeting card company. Writing for Avon catalogues would be fun too, but I might get myself into trouble.

question: have you read anything purple today?

mompoet - fuschia, mauve, aubergine

wordless wednesday

the spider

My friend Irene sent me this You Tube link. You may think you have seen this before, but watch the whole thing!

question: if you were a spider, which spider would you be?

mompoet - scurrying 2-legged back to work today (caffeine spider?)

New post from the Eatburns in Eritrea

There's a new post up at the Eatburn Chronicles - Chrismas, New Year and our niece Maya's 16th birthday!

question: did you ever give your shirt to a guaza tree?

mompoet - missing them and laughing at their adventures

don't you hate when this happens

After having a cold for a week, your nose is so fragile that you itch it (on the outside only - honest) and you get a nosebleed. Then for the rest of the evening, even though you have the frequent and urgent need to sneeze, YOU MUST NOT SNEEZE (unless you are far away from other people and have previously wrapped your face up in tissues, and even then it's bound to be a mess). Especially DO NOT SNEEZE NEAR THE RICE KRISPIE SQUARES THAT YOUR DAUGHTER IS MAKING TO PACK IN HER SCHOOL LUNCH TOMORROW. I REPEAT: STEP BACK FROM THE RICE KRISPIE SQUARES...aaa AAAA aaaaaaaCHOOOO! Oh bother.

question: too much information?

mompoet - here's more, once, on the way to a day of llama treking (almost to the trailhead) I had a giant nosebleed sneeze in the car that completely airbrush coated the whole front of my white sweatshirt, so I just turned the darn thing inside out and got on with my day

ps - Never sneeze on a llama, under any circumstances, even if you don't have a nosebleed

it's a bird, it's a plane it's...

superducklings! Check this link to my guilty web pleasure - Cute Overload.

question: do you not love the tiny winglets?

mompoet - wallowing shamelessly in anthropomorphism

this is what the poltergeist brought back

Here's the CD that I have found again. I have been enjoying it on my last few long drives to and from the theatre for Fi's shows. I wonder why listening to something new always reminds me of something old. This has sent me scrambling for the Beatles, the Kinks and (I think) the Clash. I must also now find a copy of this CD's predecessor because the reviews all say it's even better.

question: heard anything good lately?

mompoet - everything is connected to something else, especially in the listening part of the brain

today is the fulcrum

between holiday and every day. The kids go back to school today. Andy, despite his awful cold, has been working through the holidays. When I booked my days I decided to keep "the first day back" just for myself, so I return to work Tuesday instead of Monday. It's delicious to have just one more day before I return to the routine of every day.

Three weeks has been remarkable. I'm thinking about what I did on the first day of my vacation, and it seems like ages ago. Having the kids out of school for a whole week after New Year's Eve has also been great. We spent relatively little holiday time building up to Christmas, and most of it relaxing afterward.

I think this is the laziest, most relaxed vacation I have ever taken. We did not go anywhere. We did not tackle any major projects. We even had relatively few social commitments. It was mostly spontaneous. Fiona's show went well, and even the driving to and from West Vancouver was nice (except for that night that the roads were flooded and my car made a weird noise every time I made it wade through a puddle, then we saw a car identical to mine stalled in the middle of the highway - very reassuring).

A lot of things I thought I would do I did not do. A couple of things I didn't think of I did do. Getting sick was a definite negative, but I'm getting over it, and I was less stressed to be sick on vacation than I would if I was missing work and not being able to get the kids to their activities and regular responsibilities done.

I think I can go back to work tomorrow and say, "Yes, I am ready again." But I'm not going to think about that today. Today I will enjoy one more lazy day.

question: did you ever enjoy a planless vacation?

mompoet - recommending it

in honour of team canada juniors and the vancouver canucks

Will it Blend? 3 hockey pucks in a blender.

question: don't try this at home?

mompoet - thanks dad

schnuzzle is duzzle

Better and better

Yay! Hooray! I made pancakes today!

You still don't want to sit next to me on the bus (cough, sneeze, snort, snuffle) but I'm feeling great compared to the last couple of days.

I got up early and drank coffee and undecorated the Christmas tree. This is a job that I usually do not like to do, but it was okay this time. I'm sad to see those coloured lights go away, but I can turn on our little white patio lights that we have on the deck year-round, so I don't go cold turkey on twinkling stuff in the dark. Today I was supposed to get up, get dressed and take Alex out for a long practice drive but it's snowing! So we're still all in our pajamas at half past noon, and I made pancakes and waffles for the kids for lunch. I'm still eating that citrus salad (I made a really big batch). Maybe it's the secret to my recovery?

Next I will put away all of the Santa pictures, which I display in a bookshelf every Christmas. It's fun to look at the kids growing up with Santa. I have all of my usual pottery and candles and vases and stuff in the boxes that I took the Christmas ornaments out of, so I just switch them back. I'll say goodbye to the ceramic nativity set, the crystal bowl full of fake red apples and gold-painted pinecones, the dried pomegranates (my big find this Christmas). Dried pomegranates are about 1/3 the size of fresh ones and hard as rocks. They are really beautiful though, displayed in a simple china bowl with some nuts. The dog found them when I first put them out, and tried to eat one, but gave up. I'll put away the candles that smell like cranberries and almond biscotti (the ones that we didn't burn up over Christmas). I'll put away the advent candles - almost burned down anyway. I'll get out some gorgeous blue and pearly stuff, and new table runners and mats. The house will seem bigger and cleaner and more open. The snow is an inspiration - all clean and white and fresh.

The other good news is that the poltergeist has loosened her grip on my stuff. When I'm tired or stressed or just for no reason at all, I have this thing that takes my stuff away, then returns it to totally obvious places where I have looked. The P.G. has taken my cell phone, my keys, clothing, books, movies, money, jewelry, event tickets. Invariably these lost items turn up (eventually) in precisely the place where I searched for them, so I know they were really gone. The most extreme time was when the P.G. took my house keys for one whole year, then returned them to the pocket in my knapsack where I always keep the keys, exactly one year later. I looked in that pocket a dozen times. It was a big set of keys and a small pocket, used only for keys, and it was empty for a year, then POOF there were the keys again. That was a couple of years ago. This time it took my season's tickets to the Playhouse, my favourite sweater, and a CD I had just bought and not even listened to all the way through. That was the last week of November. My tickets showed up a couple of days before Christmas (on the table beside my bed). The CD showed up yesterday (in my nearly empty briefcase which I have cleaned out and searched a couple of times since I lost the CD). Now I need my sweater. But I'm sure it will turn up. I just have to talk to the P.G. and tell her that I'm tired of the game and I want my stuff back. P.G. is full of mischief and also annoying, but usually she's telling me I need to make a change. Having a really good rest is the change I needed this Christmas. I'm convinced that getting sick and really resting - flat out - brought back my music. Now I just have to enjoy these last few days of holidays and figure out what I really want to do, and my warm, smooshy, beige marshmallow knit sweater with the zipper on the front will come back.

question: did your stuff ever disappear and reappear?

mompoet - give me back my sweater now, please

maybe not so fast

Are you supposed to get sweaty just sending emails?

mompoet - creeping back to the couch, but with a book this time so I must be on the mend

when you have the energy to complain online with a specific list of deficiencies

you are probably feeling better.

question: how are you today?

mompoet - coming out of the viral fog

how sick?

• I have checked email only once yesterday and once today.
• I watched TV all day yesterday and today.
• That included daytime TV.
• I have not read anything except email.
• There are piles of things all around the house and I don't care.
• I am not interested in coffee.
• I think Tyra Banks and Maury are mildly interesting and might even have some social value.
• I know all the new commercials before the kids do.
  
• I do not want a glass of wine.
• I wore pajamas to sleep last night.
• I have postponed Macbeth.
• I got Andy to return my videos and I did not ask him to bring me more.
• Snot is my destiny.
• The dog has been waiting 3 days for me to take her for a walk.
• I have not taken any photographs for a week.
• We might keep the Christmas tree up until Valentine's Day. Who cares?
• I am tired now so I am going to watch more TV.
• The dog wants to go for a walk with me, but otherwise is in heaven. Ditto the cat. They like it when I am still.
• Husband and kids are getting tired of it, but are being very kind.
• I have a hard time following through on
  

question: did you try this cold that's going around?

mompoet - yukko blukko

resolution?

Lazy Daisy pointed me to the random resolution generator:

In the year 2007 I resolve to: Reunite the Spice Girls. Get your resolution here.

Happy New Year Daisy!

Happy New Year everyone. Try not to make any resolutions today. Make them tomorrow or last week. If you have to make one. Make it randomly.

question: would anyone like some citrus salad?

mompoet - making citrus salad, not resolutions (thanks mom and dad for the 10 lbs each of grapefruits and oranges!)

happy new year

This is me with my husband, who has more than 1,000 pieces and is much better than schnuzzle. Thanks for the photos Cathy!

mompoet - happy

quite often, it's more fun than you think...

This morning I can not talk. That's okay. Last night was so much fun! Myrna knows how to throw a party, and just when you're having so much fun, she says "Let's have more fun!" So after swallowing helium and talking about resolutions and scaring all of the teenage boys at our family gathering down to the basement, she comes up with this crazy plan and she needs a helper. Well, that would be me.

So while the other moms and dads have regular fun, Myrna and me, we put pantyhose on our heads and sneak out around to the back of the house and creep up the the basement patio doors to scare the boys. That was fun. Only the boys just kind of looked at us then continued watching their movie, and they locked the door so we couldn't get back into the house. That was actually so funny it was fun too. Then we came back inside and resumed having regular fun.

question: do you like my hat?

mompoet - my hair actually looked better after I wore pantyhose on my head - go figure

me 'n' the schnuzzle OR rhinovirus woman celebrates the new year with her family

I slept in this morning and skipped church. I just couldn't drag my snotty coughing self out of bed in time to shower, press and dress for Sunday service. Besides, I feared a coughing fit that might rival "hacking in tongues" during the first hymn. So I slept until just before church time then got up because I was bored with sleeping. Everyone else slept for another hour at least, including the dog and cat who ate their breakfast and went back to sleep. I turned on the Christmas tree lights, made some coffee and zoned out with my schnuzzle. Schnuzzle is a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle. A Ravensburger for those who know puzzles. It is deliciously intricate and perverse in its design - a "Christmas Fair" with people, buildings, dogs, birds, trees, snowbanks and sign-boards that are almost all identical to at least one other same element somewhere else in the puzzle. By the time I finish this puzzle I will have named all of them. As it is, I have named the different puzzle piece shapes. Looking for the right shape is just as important as looking for the right piece of the picture. Schnuzzle and me happily stuck together pretty much all day. People got up, showered, dressed and ate. Dog was walked (not by me). Friends of daughter arrived. Errands were run (not by me). About 2:30 I showered and changed out of my cozy pajamas into some cozy sweats (aka daytime pajamas). My toes stayed inside fuzzy slippers. Schnuzzle oh Schnuzzle, I have conquered about 500 of your 1,000 pieces. When the light failed (I like to do Schnuzzle by natural light) I quit and made everyone something to eat for lupper (that's late lunch early supper). The girls were scrapbooking their summer Disneyland adventure and singing warped Elton John lyrics (my fault) so I was entertained. Andy was playing poker online for play money so he was distracted. Alex was programming his new cell phone and watching sports on tv. The dog and cat were sleeping, having eaten their lupper too. Then Andy took the girls to the theatre and Alex laid low (I think he does not want me to ask him to help me with Schnuzzle - although he did agree to read MacBeth with me this coming week, in preparation for his final English 11 assignment). After Andy and the girls left I loaded the dishwasher and put together some foods for the potluck New Year Party we'll go to tonight at Myrna's house. I made a lovely big citrus salad with grapefruit and oranges and mango and pomegranate. I'm also bringing lots of pickled garlic. So I think I have a fighting chance to make it to midnight without coughing. Then again, if I'm feeling crummy I can come home early. Schnuzzle will be here.

question: what are you doing/did you do for New Year's Eve?

mompoet - schnuzzzzzllllle

too funny to let slip by

My dad chased all the links on Matthew Baldwin's Holiday Guide for Slackers. Especially funny is this Sports Illustrated article about a real life experience with "The Beer Belly."

question: did you every sneak something in somewhere where you shouldn't oughta?

mompoet - illicit peanut butter sandwich and carrot stick smuggler from way back

I got it too

Despite a minimum of smooching, careful direction of coughs and sneezes, conscientious hand-washing and a last-ditch defensive series of echinacia and zinc missile-lobs I have got the cold. Andy was sick with it right through Christmas - sick on the couch and in bed with a headache and coughing his head off every fifteen minutes kind of sick. I am hoping and hoping I won't be sick. I'll settle for scratchy, snotty and sexy-voiced (the only good thing about this bug that I can figure) . I will now go work on a jigsaw puzzle and drink hot water with honey and lemon.

Merry Chrissshhh-blzzzl-snchitz!

bobpoed - that's how I say id wid by node blugged

more movies at home for winter break

Last week I watched Scared Sacred, which I missed in the movie theatre. I watched it twice, the second time with Fi. In this documentary, the film-maker, Velcrow Ripper, visits the scenes of humanity's worst atrocities to humanity. He goes to Bosnia, Cambodia, Hiroshima, Israel and Bhopal India. In the middle of making the film, the World Trade Centre bombings happened, so he went to New York too. In each place he talks to survivors about how they find light in the darkness. They tell him how they made it through the worst and darkest days and how they are able to trust, love and find meaning in life after what they have lived through. The answers are what I might have expected - people find the will to live and to keep believing that life is good through art, faith, societal reform, love for one another, helping with the healing of others and making the world safer for the people who survive - but the immediacy of the personal narratives blew me away. I keep playing the interview with Aki from Cambodia over and over in my head. This man was captured by the Khmer Rouge as a young boy. His parents were murdered. He was forced to be a child soldier and plant landmines all over the countryside. He was tortured. He was not allowed to cry. It was a rule that everyone had to smile and laugh, despite their pain and fear. As I watched him smiling through the interview I thought, "This is a broken person. How can he ever be well and whole again?" But then there he is, digging up and disarming landmines - sometimes 50 in one day, to make his country safe again. In the film, he finds a landmine and cheerfully demonstrates where it's safe to touch it and where one must not touch it. He casually slaps it with his hand and his stick before turning it over to remove the fuse. Something about that scene makes me cry even thinking about it. The narrator explains that he has disarmed thousands of these landmines. This is what he does. The film makes a convincing case. It says that for survivors, telling the story of what happened, and contributing to the healing of their place and people is a healing experience for themselves.

Today I watched Elephant. It's the story of high school massacre, shown from the point of view of individual students. As I watched it, I knew where it was leading, and I was dreading it. I was also fascinated by the portrayal of student lives. The camera mostly followed each of the actors around, often just 2 steps behind as they moved from one place to another, and interacted with one another, their parents and teachers. Each character became more intensely human but also surreally robot-like as situations were viewed from 2 or three different perspectives with slightly varied time-frames. The effect was to put me inside what might be the thinking of someone preparing to go into the school and start shooting. As the people in the story looked more and more like Sims characters, the idea of planning and executing a massacre became more intellectual and less real. The climax of the movie makes it all real again, brutally so. This isn't an easy movie to watch, but it is excellent for what it is and does.

Finally, we watched Oliver the 1968 Academy Award winning musical. Well, I watched the first half of the 150 minute movie then went to bed. Fi watched all of it. She'll be in her school production of it this Spring. Holy smokes, that's a good musical. The production numbers are hard to fathom, especially given the age of the film, and no special effects to make the scenery look more grand. The song "Consider Yourself" must have employed 200 dancers, spanned 4 city blocks of studio space with roads, buildings, houses, horses etc and it is over-the-top with creativity. There's a whole section in which butchers are chopping meat and dancing with pieces of it and they become part of the music. It sounds macabre, but it's beautiful! I missed most of the dramatic part of it, quitting at intermission. I'll have to try act 2 some time this week.

question: documentary, drama or musical? which would you choose for your next view?

mompoet - some of each, please

end-of-year-brain haiku

ankle deep in leaves
I peer at bare limbs and think
maple or oak - which?

question: do you ever wonder what you're wondering?

mompoet - duh