Sunday, 25. February 2007
Sunday 25 Feb 2007

12:32 p.m.

I stood looking at a wall in the kitchen where there was a funny little hole. I could see its tiny unpainted inside. I wondered what could have made the puncture. Ah well, a paint job doesn’t last forever, I thought, and moved on to other things.

Later, from my chair in the office, I peered into the kitchen and noticed that a wall hanging Mom gave me was hanging askew. The tack at one top corner had come out from the wall. How did that happen, I wondered, and got up to go tack the hanging back into place. That’s when I realized the hole I’d been looking at earlier was from the tack.

I’d stood there looking at that hole, not seeing the wall hanging right there beside it.

What does that say about my powers of observation? Maybe I don't want to think about that.

***

Who's up for Canada Reads this year? It starts tomorrow. Here's an article from today's CBC website:

"Past Canada Reads champions are set to go head-to-head for the all-star edition of CBC's literary book battle beginning Monday.

For the sixth edition of the annual CBC Radio series, producers are pitting the winning defenders from the past five years against each other.

Musicians Steven Page of the Barenaked Ladies, Jim Cuddy of Blue Rodeo and John K. Samson of The Weakerthans will face off against author and broadcaster Denise Bombardier and novelist Donna Morrissey to defend all new book choices.

This year's competing titles are:

David Bezmozgis' Natasha and Other Stories, a short-story collection about a family of Latvian Jewish immigrants in Toronto in the early 1980s, to be defended by Page.

Children of My Heart, the English translation of Gabrielle Roy's final novel Ces enfants de ma vie, to be defended by Bombardier.

Timothy Taylor's Stanley Park, the popular Vancouver title about a chef's efforts to run a restaurant and reconnect with his homeless father, to be defended by Cuddy.

Anosh Irani's The Song of Kahunsha, a portrait of Mumbai from the viewpoint of a child, to be defended by Morrissey.

Heather O'Neill's Lullabies for Little Criminals, a debut novel about a teen girl who spins stories to help her cope with a harsh life of poverty, to be defended by Samson.

Moderated by CBC Radio host Bill Richardson, the five panellists will begin debating their choices Monday, with the first book voted out the following day.

The All Star edition of Canada Reads will air on CBC Radio One beginning Monday through Friday, at 11:30 a.m. and 7:30 p.m. (a half-hour later in Newfoundland)."

The Canada Reads webpage is here.

*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,


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Saturday, 24. February 2007
Sat 24 Feb 2007


~ cherished bracelet belonged to great-great Aunt Alma ~

Sadly, this is the best picture of it I could get, using the webcam. It's gorgeous though; take my word for it.

***

There's a new blog in my neighbourhood!

Check out All That Glitters. The "other" Kate is one of the Likeminded Ladies and lives about a half-hour from here. She's busy looking after cattle, chickens, a donkey and her pets ... oh wait, they're all her pets.

*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,


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Fri 23 Feb 2007

11:54 p.m.

Went to bed reasonably early, but couldn't sleep. Finally figured out I was hungry and wouldn't drop off for hours if I didn't give in and eat something. So I came up for some granola with buttermilk, and read my email while crunching on the cereal.

From Cathy:
"I am always disappointed when I go check your blog and you haven't written. Particularly now with your picture on there I feel like I am visiting you every day."

So I had to take a photo and update the webpage.
Ask and ye shall receive, I always say. See Cath, it works.

And now, back to bed.

... Link


Thursday, 22. February 2007
Thurs 22 Feb 2007


~ fresh out of the bathtub ~

11:43 a.m.

The arm is improved this morning. Knock on wood. I am heading for town in a few minutes; maybe a few more hours away from the computer will be a good thing too.

If I'm not mistaken, this is the last time I will be signing divorce papers. Gord and I like to tease each other that now "you" can get married again. We both deny that a second marriage is in our future. We both think, "Why bother?" Legally one has all the benefits of marriage by simply living together. Realistically marriage guarantees nothing -- not fidelity, not loyalty, not respect, not love.

So what is it for? Aside from feeding the illusory romantic ideal of finding our "one true love" and hanging the key to his/her heart around our own neck, why do people still want to get married?

Why did I watch the movie A Good Woman, based on Oscar Wilde's novel Mrs. Windermere's Fan, and totally understand Helen Hunt's character when she said that marriage had been like a windowless room she couldn't get out of (not that my marriage was like that overall, but there were moments), and yet root for the suitor who was proposing to her?

*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,


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Wednesday, 21. February 2007
Wed 21 Feb 2007

10:05 a.m. and I am trying not to use my right arm. That is pretty much impossible! Unless I totally keep away from the computer. Which I don't want to do. I have work I want to get done ... interesting articles, mostly biographies, that are a pleasure to tinker with and factcheck.

But for now, off I go to start a fire and get dressed and maybe wash the breakfast dishes and go for a walk and then over to the neighbours' to pick up eggs. All away from the computer.

Because Tylenol doesn't vanquish the pain. Because Scott's not home to rub Tiger Balm into my right shoulder blade, and that did help last night. Because a sling doesn't really seem to take the weight off, enough.

Today, if need be, I'll break out Mom's very strong anti-inflammatories. 600 mg or something; they mean business.

1:17 p.m.
Has it been 30 days yet? How will I know when to quit?

*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,


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Tuesday, 20. February 2007
Tues 20 Feb 2007


~ yesterday's walk was dog-free
so the deer stayed put ~

and the obligatory self portrait:

~ talking to Clever ~

i'm typing with my left hand today
a knot (i guess) in my upper back
now has my right arm in a sling
to take the weight off

still fairly speedy, if i say so myself

*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,


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Monday, 19. February 2007
Monday 19 Feb 2007


~ chair yoga ~ my "fat" pants ~

1:58 p.m.
Beautiful day. Helped a trapped bird in the morning. Must go for a walk this afternoon.

Andrea Menard, wow.

The radio just played Andrea, a capella, singing a song very similar to one I heard in Kelowna while driving one day. I had been thinking about a good song to sing in the mornings (remember? I don't do that now; more's the pity) after Mom died, and this song came on. It was called The Mother Song and said "You won't see me, you won't feel me, but you will never be alone."

Maybe it was Andrea singing this song back then. Anyway, wow Andrea. Beautiful voice.

Just this morning I was thinking Mom was giving no sign of being around. I was okay with that; just observing. A book I just read says that the dead often send messages to us via songs on the radio. But I wasn't paying attention or watching for that.

Still ... coincidence? I really don't think so. This is the first time I've heard this song since then -- back in 2005.

... Link


Saturday, 17. February 2007
Sat 17 Feb 2007


~ oh my goodness mom's housecoat is sexy ~

Today is Grandpa Emil's birthday. It's been 10 years since he passed away.

Mom and Dad were at my house when a phone call came, telling us that he was in the hospital on life support, and asking for Mom's agreement to let him go. He wasn't expected to wake up.

When Mom got off the phone she started to cry, with her head on Dad's chest, dabbing at her eyes with a Kleenex. He said, "It has to happen sometime." I thought he was invalidating her feelings rather coldly. Now I don't; it helps to see death as less of a tragedy and more a natural occurrence. He was stating the facts. Death is inevitable. It's just a matter of when and how.

After Grandpa died Mom used to wonder why he never visited her or gave her a sign. "I cared for him so much," she told me. One morning she'd been looking in the bathroom mirror while washing, and clearly saw her father looking back at her from within her own face. She laughed at herself, then. He'd been with her all along.

Between living and dreaming
There is something else.
Guess what it is
.
-Antonio Machado


*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,


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Friday, 16. February 2007
Fri 16 Jan 2007


~ morning hair ~

I'm getting a lot of grey mixed in with the natural ash blond, but I like it. Looks like high-priced highlights!

It's noon, and time to get out of this chair, where I've spent the morning working in my nightie (thus the black fleecy borrowed from the back of a chair to keep me warm).

Finally things have warmed up some. The thermometer was hovering around the freezing point yesterday afternoon. It'll be a good day for a walk.

Did I mention I won the Valentine's basket from the Co-op store? My ex picked it up and delivered it yesterday. Mmm, lots of chocolate.

Sorry folks, but I really can't think of one more thing to say. Maybe I'll check back later. For now, I must go beautify myself. That could take all day; I'll give up long before that.

..
u

*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,


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Thursday, 15. February 2007
Thurs 15 Feb 2007

It's the second day of the neck migraine trying to take hold. At least I'm up and around today. Yesterday the morning was lost to sleeping the neckache away.

Everett asked if he could take a bag of the perogies I helped make last week, so the boys stopped in with their dad and his girlfriend after Everett got a haircut the other day.

I don't care how many people have insisted he is the spitting image of me. I do not see it; I do not even see a resemblance!

*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,_,*:-.,_,.-:*'``'*:-.,


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