This is a picture of me calming myself down

The kids went back to school today for an hour each. We spent some time over at Mom and Dad's visiting, and the children said goodbye to each other and Alex and Fi to their aunt and uncle. I'll see them one more time after work tomorrow to help drive to the airport. After supper I cooked up a storm. Our first crock pot of the fall. I know it's not really chilly enough for chili, but that's what I felt like making - one for tomorrow and one for the the freezer. The crock pot is lovely. It will feed Andy and the kids at supper and still be warm for me when I get home later tomorrow night and need a friendly bowl and probably also a big glass of red wine.

I use a "heart smart" recipe that's a mixture of several I've tried. Andy's not crazy about it. He likes a very meaty-beany concoction with flour added to make a brown gravy. It looks positively...Scottish! But he pours in lots of cayenne pepper so it does not taste Scottish at all. He never uses the crock pot - just the stove and a big pot. My chili has tons of onions and carrots (sometimes zucchini and cauliflower, but don't tell!) and garlic to stretch it out. I pour in some wine too, which makes the flavour more round and full, and the smell...mmmmmm. Mine is medium hot with firey sauce and pepper flakes available on the side. I like to serve it with some cheddar cheese on top.

So I'll come home from the airport tomorrow and have some chili and think about Barb and Kim and Maya and Lukas and Simon flying away to spicy and nourishing adventures in Africa, and everything will be just fine.

question: what's your comfort food?

mompoet - partial to pasta with olive oil, salt and parmesan

old poems don't always stink

I was updating my friend Neana's resume today so I had to re-install WordPerfect so I could convert it to Word. I miss Corel. It is such a simple and easy program. Word is such a left-handed bionic gorilla. I hate it.

Anyway, before I uninstall Corel again, I decided to convert a bunch of old poems that I have saved to cds and floppies, so I have them in Word, before we get a computer that I can't run Corel on anymore. I came across this funny one in my "kids poems" folder. I wrote it about 5 years ago.

Bedtime

You crave the weight of three blankets,
Me, I prefer a duvet.
You like your bedsheets all crispy and snug,
I just can’t stand them that way.

You rest on three or four pillows,
I like no pillow at all.
You sprawl from corner to corner,
While I curl up close to the wall.

You like to snooze on your tummy,
I always snore on my back.
You shine a nightlight beside you,
I need the room perfectly black.

You leave the window wide open,
I always lock it up tight.
If it weren’t for our wonderful bunkbed,
I don’t think we could get through the night!

I will go to sleep and dream some dreams and dream some poems and write some poems. Meantime, there's some leftovers re-heated.

question: how was your sleep?

mompoet - craving a nap

The Slam

We raised over $500 for the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word last night (counting the take from the door and the raffle). The raffle was a lot of fun, with poets donating tons of stuff to stuff the boxes. The winners took home treasure chests filled with goodies from my kitchen and chapbooks, cds, books, t shirts etc.

The playoffs were spectacular. Nine poets competed. It was one of the best evenings of poetry and performance I've seen in a long time. Good good good poetry and poets trying their best and brightest to get onto the second Vancouver team. Any four of the nine would have made up a great team.

I was thrilled to be part of a "slam-off" at the end of the show. Three poets (including me) tied for 3rd place at the end of the second round, with room for just 4 poets on the team. We each performed one more poem. In the end, I came in behind the other two, so I will continue as a "close but no cigar" supporter and active participant in the slam. I am sincerely delighted to have come so close. I feel like I am improving my performance skills and connecting better with the audience each time I perform. I just love the feeling of being part of the show. It's a thrill to write and prepare a piece, then bring it to the stage. It may sound corny, but being part of the Vancouver slam community and Vancouver Poetry House is as good as winning.

Now it's time for me to help with festival preparations, and also to write some of the poetry that's bubbling around just below the surface of my creative/thinking/feeling self. And to support our two wonderful Vancouver teams as they go into our own Canadian festival. Congratulations Magpie Ulysses, Dunce the Wizard, Kim Shaughnessy and TL Groves as you join Zaccheus, Chrystalene Buhler, Brendan McLeod and Barbara Adler as Vancouver's representatives in slam poetry. What great teams! What a night! What a community!

question: Is it really the first day of school? How can it be?

mompoet - turning pages

Festival Fundraiser

The Canadian Festival of Spoken Word will happen in Vancouver, October 11-15. This is a second annual event (the first was last fall in Ottawa) combining a slam poetry tournament of Canadian teams with fabulous showcases of spoken word artists from Canada and other places. I'm helping to organize and run the event.

We didn't get two big grants that we had hoped for, so we're doing fill-in fundraising. Tonight's proceeds from the Vancouver Poetry Slam will help the festival. I'm organizing a basket raffle to help raise a bit more cash.

My daughter and niece helped yesterday by making signs to decorate the baskets and advertise the festival dates. They were brainstorming Canadiana themes and teased me about maple syrup. I said "anything but maple syrup, okay?" Of course, they made maple syrup. I think it turned out just fine - especially the sequins.

question: what are you doing on October 11-15? huh?

mompoet - accepting help wherever it is offered, and finding lots of it

I love my family

We did family stuff last night: went out for supper at Capitol Hill Szechuan then came back to my parents' house in Burnaby for early birthday celebrations for my nephew and brother-in-law. We also played balderdash (with slips of paper and a dictionary - not the board game version). We laughed our heads off and ate home-made lemon cake and home-made ice cream (a successful cooking experiment by my niece). This is our normal, noisy, silly, family self. We're soaking it up while we can because it will be a different shape soon.

If you are interested in following the adventures of my sister and her family, they have set up a blog. Here it is.

question: what small practices define your family?

mompoet - Geog Bust is the new 9-sided yurt

the funniest things

When I go to a party, I like to sit on the floor. Our friends Kathy and John had a small supper party last night. We ate supper at the table. It was nice, but I could hardly wait to sit on the floor. When I sit on the floor I can laugh lying down, which feels very good. These friends are the kind of friends who don't mind when I do that.

John is one of the funniest guys I know. I absolutely love his sense of humour. He is 100% uncensored, so much so that partway through the evening, Kathy came and cuddled up to him on the couch then commenced to jab him in the side with her elbow every time he crossed over some conversational line. A couple of the other women said "too much information" a few times and even put their hands in front of their faces. I just fell on the floor laughing, a lot.

Here's a John-ism: You know that guy who looks like Jesus, but with short hair, who walks up and down the street all the time?

I know, it's not very funny when I post it, but it is when John says it. I'm glad that John is Kathy's husband so she gets to do the poking and groaning, and I get to laugh.

question: who's funny in your life?

mompoet - tickled pink by frank talk

Five days, five minutes, five seconds

Five days off work...I do love flex time work hours. flex flex flex...ahhhhh..

Five minutes to read my email now that we have eaten supper. Daughter has a friend over for a sleepover. They are making chocolate chip cookies, or rather a chocolate chip cookie. A big one.

Five seconds to post my blog. Son wants to play the new version of roller coaster tycoon. I'm getting out of this kitchen before the big cookie pops the oven door open like when Lucy baked bread on I Love Lucy and so a roller coaster crash and burn can be orchestrated to impress everyone. Ahhhhhh. Did I ever tell you about Zoo Typhoon? That's when son and daughter cooperate to set all of the animals in Zoo Tycoon free to eat each other and all of the park guests and zookeepers. It's built into the program, so it's intended to be used that way.

five, four, three, two, one bye

mompoet

ps 2/3 cup butter, 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup white sugar, 1 egg, 1 tsp vanilla, 1 1/2 cup flour, 1/2 tsp salt, 1/2 tsp soda, 1 1/2 cup chocolate chips 350, drop by spoonfuls, ungreased cookie sheet - don't cook them (it) too long

Eu-fem-isms

Have you heard this one?

I am re-booting my OOS (Ovarian Operating System).

I just love that.

question: got any good ones?

mompoet - calling a spade a ergonomically proportioned excavation device

love cascade

So I've been wondering why I have not written any poetry all summer and I think maybe I know the reason (er excuse?)...It's love and worry. I think if I wrote a poem I might explode or just cry for a few days or laugh hysterically so I'm holding back until I'm feeling less intensely everything about everything then I'll write. I'll write buckets. It's in there - just way to much to let out at the moment.

My major concern is that my sister and her family are leaving for Africa in just one week. They'll come into town tomorrow for "final shopping for appropriate clothing to wear in a Muslim country," and some visiting before they go. Then they will be in Africa for 1 or 2 years, depending on how it goes. I'm happy that they are doing something that they want to do, but I will miss them so much I don't even want to think about it right now. I know I'll get used to it, and we'll all learn how to write letters again but...mmmph.

And the other thing is Andy's work stress. Big huge gigantic busy movie summer, lots of wear and tear on everyone at work and wacky scheduling. He missed our camping trip and I miss him and when he's here he's tired and preoccupied, and I know it's like this when work gets busy and I'm not always sweet, serene, available and focussed myself but....mmmmmmphhh!

Also the end of the summer at my day camp and working with the best team of leaders I've had around in a long time. They've been so good at their work of course but what I've appreciated the most is how much joy they have taken in the children this summer, and in working with each other. Heck, they were leg-wrestling in Robson Square on Saturday night after the staff dinner and before the bowling. It's not always like that, you know. So I said good-bye and good luck to them on Monday and we locked up the shed and put the bows and arrows in safe storage for the winter, and I'm going to miss them too. At work, summer is important and intense then it's over. I served them up a picnic lunch at the park with a tablecloth and home-made pickles and I made them all cards, then they gave me a huge bouquet of flowers and an even nicer and funnier card with a photograph of me doing my Cousin It impersonation, and also a gift certificate for the Hart House. I felt overwhelmed by these expressions of their regard for me and for our summer together. And I'm going to miss them...mmmmmph!

And it's a bunch of other stuff too - daughter's anticipation and wonderful performance in the PNE talent show, school starting, festival and other events approaching, all good but challenging, surely too much transition for the tablespoon-sized coping centre of my brain.

Then I won the poetry slam Monday night and everyone said nice things to me and I get to be in the finals next week to try out for the second Vancouver team at the Canadian Festival of Spoken Word and it's just about more than I know what to do with at this particular time.

Oh, also, the gym is closed for maintenance. I know, I can go to another gym or go for a walk, but right now I would really like to kick my very own bike #29 into orbit for about an hour or so. Gym re-opens on Tuesday. I'll be there.

So, I am not going to have a drink or eat a bunch of chocolate, and I will not watch stupid tv and I will not bake or clean something (all typical panic responses when I feel overwhelmed). I will try to reflect and let it all wash over me, this over-the-top happy and over-the-top sad. I will go to church on Sunday (I've been in summer mode, sleeping in or going away on weekends) because I always find courage there.

And I will not write a poem. Not right away. But when I do, later, watch out. It might be a tsunami.

question: ever had some sum that's too much more than its parts?

mompoet - exceeding my limit and trusting that I won't tip over

I'm back (you're front)

Our computer had a virus. Now it is better. It's way too late for me to post anything but this announcement. I will have lots to say tomorrow. I will say some of it. Probably too much.

i'll be bach
you be beethoven

dumm dumm da dummmm

ps I won the poetry slam tonight (I mean yesterday) I mean yeeesshhh.

Good nougat and dreet sweams

mompoet

does it matter what a poet looks like?

This is not a rhetorical question. Seriously. I want to know.

I have been thinking a lot about poets and what they look like. At the Vancouver Poetry Slam, I always try to find a picture of the feature poet on the web before I go to the show, so I can say hi before the show, and also so I know that's the poet. My observation so far is that woman poets look all kinds of different ways, but more often than not, the visiting poet from another city, if he's a man, is usually the weirdest looking person in the place. Sorry,sorry,sorry to all of the visiting man poets who I have met and who I now think look just fine. It's just before I know them, they look weird to me. Once I see/hear them perform and introduce myself and say hi, then they all look spectacularly beautiful and brilliant. I am not exaggerating. I am that easily swayed.

Which is why I was very surprised when I first saw George Bowering. I had seen photographs of him like this and this and this. So I had a certain expectation. (actually, not weird, but pretty much "literary" looking.)

Then he came to the West Coast Poetry Festival in July, and he looked like this. Yup. George Bowering looked like Hank Hill on King of the Hill.

I know it should not matter at all what a poet looks like (to answer my own question, rhetorical or not). But it may be distracting, at least for a while. Until the poet reads or recites his work then it doesn't matter. The impression made by the words overwhelms that first, shallow one.

I wonder what I look like when I perform as a poet. A Homemaker Mom, I suspect. Like this, or this, or this. That can be overcome somewhat by my words, but I think they mostly reinforce the mom-ness of me.

question: Were you ever surprised by someone's appearance?

mompoet - trying not to look, only to listen

strange days

transition means leggy petunias more stem than flower, back-to-school haircuts, stacks of duo tangs empty and expectant, cold in the morning - hot at noon, last blast of corn and tomatoes and first new apples at the produce store, emailing a friend in the final days of a year off teaching to be with the baby, nobody in the high school parking lot but probably next week, a letter from the middle school, shopping for running shoes, PNE, ice back in at the arena, spider webs outside the back door, damp lawn at night, ripe blackberries on menacing vines, planning events for September...October...summer's end

question: how do you fall?

mompoet - falling, definitely

the dark is creeping in

Now it's dark when I let the dog out first thing in the morning, and dark when I walk her in the evening. I love summer and will continue to love it for a few more weeks. But I feel sad to know from day one it is a continual process of decline, from the longest day downward.

Oh well, there is one consolation...the shortest day is on its way. I like that even better.

question: what's your favourite time of year?

mompoet - liking the uphill trek better than the downhill slide

new weebl and bob cartoon (about cats)

Believe me, I don't link every new weebl and bob cartoon to my blog - just a select few. Most of them, if you knew I liked them, you wouldn't like me anymore. But this one is charming. Well, er, funny.... to some people.

question: do you iron your cat?

mompoet - immature

Damn Spamn

I've just received my second spam comment on my blog. When it happens I'll just shut off the comments to that post but what a nuisance. I thought nobody read these anyway, but now I know some horrible computer programs is locked in with a tractor beam and advertising anatomical enhancements, payday loans, instant university degrees and cheap prescription drugs in the comments section of mompoet.com

NOT FAIR!

mompoet - zorching spam on my barbeque and feeding it to the wolves

the thing about overbites

I have always been a sucker for overbites. I think they are cute. Here are my two favourite celebrity overbites.

overbite man
overbite woman
(she's the one on the left. Edward Norton is cute too, but he doesn't have an overbite)

I had one too when I was twelve (still do, just a little). Without a good orthodontist I would have grown up looking like this.

question: why is imperfect better than just perfect?

mompoet - biting my lip

bruschetta night

my husband is a tech wiz

He fixed the camera. First of all he was super nice about my splashing and smashing it, then he fixed it. That's me and Kirsi having a drink and laughing about smashed up stuff and how husbands take photographs. He wanted to stand right in front of us. As if!

Now I've got some tomatoes to chop and can. House is cooler. Husband and daughter are out buying school supplies. Son is shouting at the football game on tv. Neighbours are shouting too. With the windows open it sounds like stereo.

Life is good.
Kirsi, I am glad you are home after 3 weeks in Ontario. I had no one to drink with on the road.

question: what's your best side?

mompoet - going to smash some tomatoes and crush some cilantro

mama don't play no ukulele

Yesterday I got dog poo on my shoe while I was at work. I grabbed my spare pair out of the car only to discover they already had dog poo on them. Then I dunked the digital camera under the tap at camp and dropped it on the gravel. The guy at Van Cam says it's not worth fixing. Drats.

Today is much better. I took the day off work, which is always delicious. Andy took the boy-teen to Playland to ride the PNE rides with no lineups. The day before the fair opens all of the extra rides are operating, and included in your Playland pass.

Drama girl and I went to the musical theatre teacher's house for a choreography session in preparation for the PNE Star Discovery Kids Talent Show. Yup, our daughter is in the semi-finals next weekend. Then we went to Granville Island for the day. We had a great time - a little bit of poking in stores (she bought beads and hemp for bracelets), and some lunching and sitting out in the square watching the boats and the people. Ralph Shaw, the Ukulele King was playing, which delighted me. I asked my daughter if she remembered when we saw him on New Year's Day and she did.

When the kids were little, our New Year's Eve tradition included lunch with friends and a visit to Burnaby Village Museum on New Year's Eve Day. The village is all dressed for Christmas, with musicians and storytellers throughout the day. Daughter first saw Ralph Shaw in Brookfield Hall (the village's vaudeville theatre) when she was 4 years old. I remember he played a nose flute which she found totally enchanting.

So we were back there again when she was 6, and she read on the schedule that Ralph Shaw would perform on New Year's Day at noon. I agreed to bring her back (it was the very next day, but what else did we have to do?) Nobody else in the family wanted a repeat visit so soon, so we went on our own. Well, it turned out that nobody else in the world thought of going to Burnaby Village Museum at noon on New Year's Day. We had the place, and Ralph, to ourselves. Another entertainer came and sat down to listen to his set, because there was literally nobody else there. We sat outside on the porch of the ice cream parlour and enjoyed all kinds of old songs and a bit of chat. Daughter was too old to dance, but young enough not to shy away at this exclusive performance.

The only other time I can remember being the only one in the audience was at a performance of Haunted House Hamlet at Presentation House in North Vancouver. The show was staged in all of the back rooms and corridors of the theatre and on the stage, with scenes taking place simultaneously. It was a sparse house that night, and I found myself in the bowels of the theatre, with three actors performing a scene (I can't remember which). It felt weird be outnumbered, but I liked it.

Today, twelve year old daughter made sure we didn't get too close to Ralph Shaw, and declined to take the coins up to the ukulele case at the end of the show. Of course she didn't dance, but we enjoyed watching a three-year old girl spinning joyfully across the square.

She asked how buskers make enough money to live and I said I thought they also did paid shows like at the village and maybe taught music lessons. I asked her if she thought I might take ukulele lessons one day and she said, "You would!" Then I suggested that if I did I might just haul that ukulele along to parties and family gatherings and yank it out after supper and say, "Who's for a hootenany?" That earned an eye-roll, a nose-wrinkle and a brow-scrunch. I guess she's a normal teenager.

It was a much better day today. When we got home, daughter helped make supper. Husband and son came home tired and happy from Playland. Best of all, Andy's not on night shift for a while so our family gets right-side-up again. I love the movies, but not when they take my husband away all night.

Now I'm going to clean my shoes, load the dishwasher and make some bruschetta (I bought 20 pounds of Okanagan tomatoes just perfect). Ooops! Kirsi just phoned. I'm going to go sit by the side of the road and drink a beer instead.

The shoes (and the poo) will be there later.
The tomatoes will keep.
Too bad about the camera.
I will never play the ukulele.

question: have you ever showed up for a show and you were the only one?

mompoet - maybe the nose flute?

Why I love my job

Well, here's one example anyway:

On Wednesday one of the day camp leaders phoned in sick and there was no sub available, so I was the craft leader for the day, while the other leaders took groups nature-hiking and canoeing. The craft was picture frames. Each camper brought "treasures" from home to stick onto his/her picture frame using a hot glue gun. They brought beads and buttons and seashells and pretty rocks and stickers...you get the idea.

So the youngest group (6 and 7 year olds) comes to the table. I show them the craft and they get started...

mp: Hey Josh, what treasures did you bring?

J: (emptying his ziplok bag) Look, I got a wolf spider. I found it at home and nobody wants it!

mp: That's a very beautiful spider. Did you bring it to show your friends?

J: I brought it for my picture frame.

mp: Oh. Are you going to glue it on there with those pretty rocks you brought?

J: They're not rocks. They're diamonds.

mp: Oh yes, I can see that!

So he made a beautiful picture frame, decorated with 6 mineral samples and a dead wolf spider, all stuck on with a glue gun. The spider really was beautiful. It was pretty much intact, with 7 remaining legs stuck on pretty good, especially with the application of a glue gun.

It's good to see kids just liking what they like. The other 6 and 7 year olds liked the wolf spider picture frame too.

So that was my day. Oh, I also got to do storytelling. Haven't done that in over a year since our daughter (the younger of the two) decided that she is old enough that Mom may no longer come tell stories to her class. It was fun.

question: what do you like about your job?

mompoet - lucky