HRH has just driven off to his interview at Champlain College this afternoon for the position of visual arts technician. Thank you all for your well-wishes; I know they’re helping him. I haven’t seen him this nervous/excited in years! Keep thinking good thoughts till about three this afternoon. We’ll let you know what happens as soon as we have news. (Seeing as the position begins Monday, I’m thinking we’ll know sooner rather than later.)
Category Archives: Diary
Pressing the Restart Button
Gentle readers, I know it’s the eleventh of the month and therefore the boy is twenty-eight months old, but I am very ill thanks to something I ate last night and it’s not going to happen today. I’m going to go back to bed, read research books, and draw arcane editing symbols all over a printout of my current book proposal with suggested rewrites in the margins. Watch for his monthly newsletter tomorrow instead.
Fall and the Still Point
I’ve been kind of introspective lately, and it’s not the kind of introspection that lends itself to journaling. You may have noticed that a lot of my record-keeping lately has been of the ‘we did this today’ genre, and that’s okay by me. I use my online journal as a way to check back and see what we were doing when a lot. But I haven’t felt moved to write down what I’m feeling. Maybe it has to do with that fact that I can’t quite define how I’m feeling – it’s not bad, it’s not wonderful, it’s just me. These days I’m better at releasing or rejecting unnecessary stress, which is miraculous. I don’t feel like I’m trying to keep up with anything or cram everything into my life for once. I’ve been spending a lot of time just being. I’m not trying to fill my days (although it happens more often than not). I’m trying not to overdose on internet-related things, and I find that there’s more to my day as a result of the less-cluttered headspace.
It’s fall, and I love fall. And as usual, thoughts begin to turn inwards during this season. Samhain is only three weeks away. This year I’ve realized it early: it’s coming, I’m slowing down, I’m looking inward, and I’m not having periodic fits wondering what’s going wrong with me. It’s dark when we wake up, which is depressing; what’s more depressing is that it’s still dark by seven AM. Right now it’s sunny outside, which is a blessed break as it’s supposed to be drizzly all week. I love sunny fall days; they make me feel wonderful no matter what. It can be three degrees outside and sunny, I don’t care. Things feel somewhat as if they’re reaching a still point for me. (Of course, this means part of me is looking around for the piano about to fall.)
We visited my parents over Thanksgiving weekend and had a good time mingling with family. It poured with cloudy intervals, and was alarmingly hot for the time of year. Liam is now capable of racing up and down their stairs on his own, which is both a relief and a worry as he chases the cats who really need some time and space to themselves when he’s there. My cousin and his wife came over for Thanksgiving dinner with their little daughter who is about nine months younger than Liam, and it was priceless to see the two of them careening around together, actually having little toddler conversations between all the giggling and crowing. My mother brought some lovely things back from Greece and I got her old olive green pashmina wrap to add to my collection of wraps that I don’t wear anywhere near often enough. I really should just get rid of everything normal in my clothing collection and embrace eccentricity. The good thing is I’ve worn it several times in the past five days, so maybe I’m getting somewhere. There’s a lovely stacked-heel strapped moss green suede shoe coming out in the Hush Puppies November collection that would fit right into the eccentric category too. Sometimes I wonder why I ever buy suede shoes, because I rarely wear them for fear of ruining the suede in the Montreal rain that falls with no warning and no regard for forecast. (Why do I buy shoes at all? I never wear them out. I have a pair of black shoes I’ve worn for the past nineteen years. I hate going shoe shopping, but over the past four years I’ve randomly spied one pair a year that I love. My Buster Brown owly clogs were one such purchase. I’ll look at these Hush Puppies when they come out, but I’ll probably end up nixing them for the height of the heel.)
I got my anniversary gift from HRH over the weekend as well. I ended up buying HRH a DeWalt rotary saw, with which he was thrilled. In turn, he gave me a choice between a pair of Doc Marten boots I’d seen online and loved, and a crimson DS Lite. As Docs are traditionally way, way too wide for my feet and I don’t have enough reason to wear the boots I already own, and the chances of finding the style I wanted still available was next to nil, we went with the DS. (Which in turn means he inherited my original large DS. There is method to our madness.) So I am now the owner of a lovely crimson DS Lite with a snazzy little snap-close case. It’s shiny, and weighs so much less; my wrists don’t hurt from holding it up after I’ve played.
I should be getting rewrites and copy-edits on the pregnancy book around the end of the month. The revised projected release date is August 2008.
See? Here we are, back to a ‘this is what we did’ post. Not a bad thing.
Home!
Hello world, we are home once again after a Thanksgiving weekend away with family. I won’t be able to get to my e-mail until tomorrow afternoon, so if you have something waiting in the queue and you’re wondering why I haven’t replied, now you know. Of course, if you don’t read my journal, then you still don’t know, do you, and this becomes a surreal rhetorical exercise.
liam speaks:
Dear Diary:
Today I pulled my mother’s hair really hard by double handfuls — twice! –, hit her, and bit her shoulder. I had two time-outs by noon-thirty. I coloured on the TV screen, and all over my train tracks. Then I threw a massive tantrum after lunch and refused to go to bed for an hour. I got some awesome screaming in, and nearly threw myself out of the crib head-first two times. She read to me to calm me down, which was great, but I only got an extra two stories.
Then the mean people next door started their ride-on mower right outside my window while I was still asleep and I woke up screaming.
But in between I’m having a good day, when I forget that I’m not.
Love, Liam
Who has my child? Because this one is so not mine.
Weekend Roundup
Saturday night was, of course, Tarasmas.
I love nights like this, when quite apart from being able to perform and watch fun radio dramas with zero preparation, I can see people I don’t get to see often enough. And yet I still managed to not exchange a single word with Kino Kid, or Mousme, or other people to whom I ought to at least have said hello. Talked to Scott about games and work and Ceri about consoles, talked writing with Sandman7 (who honoured me greatly by requesting my help with something), talked career with a much happier MLG, watched the second play with Tal and laughed and laughed, and talked work at the very end of the night with Rosy (who also honoured me greatly by suggesting that she might be open to a subcontracting arrangement).
Tarasmas was held in a new location, which I preferred to the old venue; I found it much brighter and more conducive to mingling. Excellent radio plays, as always, and hilarious interpretations by the actors who, as always, were given their scripts just before they walked on stage. Also, I wore new funky shoes: brown sueded clogs with owl appliques on them! Who knew my feet could fit in junior girls’ footwear? Certainly not me, at least not until I saw these clogs and tried them on.
HRH and I put away a bottle of white wine, half a baguette, and a block of Brie over the course of the night. Bringing it was an excellent notion. And it felt very, very good to have imbibed a glass of wine before I was on stage in the first play of the evening, another glass while on stage, and one and a half rapidly following. I’m usually very careful about what I drink and rarely have more than one glass of anything alcoholic when I’m out, often because I never feel entirely comfortable and relaxed at a party, and at home I prefer to drink non-alcoholic stuff except on rare occasions, usually social. But I felt wonderful going in on Saturday night, and my willingness to knock back half a bottle of wine evidently reflected that.
Then Sunday morning the Preston-Leblanc and Murphy-Hiscock households combined forces to conquer — er, tour — the Ecomuseum. It was the perfect autumn day for it, too, with golden sunlight and air just cool enough for a sweater or blazer, and leaves changing colour everywhere. The coyotes and the wolves were running around and playing, which is very unusual and such a treat to watch! I bought us a year-long family membership, so Liam can go see the animals any time he wants to. And we picnicked, too, although HRH and I forgot to pack a lunch for us while packing one for the boy. Later that afternoon I attended an informal bridal shower organized by one dear friend for another dear friend, and I’m so glad I could make it. I saw a different set of people I haven’t seen in ages and got to catch up a bit.
I crashed last night at 8:00 and slept right through till 7:00 this morning, with a brief half-hour waking at 5:00 when a cat knocked something off a counter.
Today’s writing jam with Mousme has been postponed, as she is otherwise engaged in switching careers. I have been ordered to be prolific.
What I Read This September
A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle (reread)
Virginia Woolf: An Inner Life by Julia Briggs
Vivaldi’s Venice by Patrick Barbier
Ecoholic by Adria Vasil
The Lady and the Unicorn by Tracey Chevalier
So Yesterday by Scott Westerfeld
Talk to the Hand by Lynne Truss
The Steam Magnate by Dana Copithorne
The Virtu by Sarah Monette
The Adventures of a Cello by Carlos Prieto
Marrying Mozart by Stephanie Cowell