Category Archives: Diary

Meh

Laptop modem still not working.

My back is going “crunch” in the middle.

Still haven’t heard about an interview for those teaching posts.

Got my copy of my tax forms back from the tax guy (finally – he had the wrong phone number) and I owe $2.23 to the federal government, and am owed $43 from the provincial. No, I don’t understand either.

I practiced my cello last week (yeah, I’m pretty stunned myself) and got to the point where I could play Beethoven’s first symphony all the way through at half speed. Good thing I practiced, because we three cellos had to play through some very embarrassing bits alone over and over. I was mortified, although I shudder to think what I would have sounded like if I hadn’t practised.

I still have one more day to go before my weekend. It will be a long one.

CURRENTLY READING:
A limited edition hardcover collection of two decades of Charles de Lint’s Christmas chapbooks, all gathered into one volume “in a moment of weakness” as the inside flap says. Very good. Very, very good. Uneven, yes, as they were never intended for true publication, only Christmas gifts for his wife and then a small circle of friends. It’s called Triskell Tales: 22 Years of Chapbooks. The early stuff that I’m still in is about two of his recurrign short story characters called Cerin Songweaver, a harper, and his oak-spirit wife Meran.

I recently reread The Doomsday Book by Connie Willis too. Small print. Periods were difficult to see. Yes, I was wearing my glasses. I remember it being a lighter read than it actually was, less suspenseful, less historical. Odd, that. Then again, I read it over ten years ago. I think I prefer To Say Nothing of the Dog and Passage.

I also read A Long Fatal Love Chase by Louisa May Alcott which is about an innocent young lady whose guardian loses custody of her in a gard game and marries her off to a dashing genleman who turns out to already have an estranged wife. When our heroine discovers this she flees in the night and he pursues her through various cities and false identities. Nice and not-brain-bending for a Monday afternoon in the sun. The word “challenging” certainly would never come up in relation to this book, but it was fun.

This weekend Ursula K Le Guin’s The Lathe of Heaven is up, as my book club is doing it on Tuesday night.

Joy!

Well, well, well.

I remember this feeling. I think it’s called “having fun in life”.

MLG not only (a) handed me a laptop with the words “Happy Birthday” on Saturday, he also (b) reminded me that I have a finished novel tucked away somewhere, and (c) by complete dumb luck managed to link some dreams I’ve been having recently with some short stories and scenes I’d scribbled down a few years ago. I spent most of yesterday loading the chapters of my book onto the new laptop, re-reading some old short fiction, and generally being impressed with myself. It takes a lot to impress me with my own work; I’m a really tough critic.

So I have all this creative writing, some ideas ready to be worked on, and a laptop. Hmm. One plus one plus one equals…

He also pointed out to me that sitting down to practice the cello is just a matter of self-discipline. Now, I’ve already been working on the self-discipline thing, doing meditation and devotions in the mornings which take up about forty minutes. That plus washing up, dressing, and breakfast (yes, I know, what a novel concept) pretty much cover my two hours of being up before I leave, but maybe I can squeeze in half an hour of practice on one particular bit of music, like the irritating staccato runs in the opening movement of Beethoven’s first symphony.

Friends like this are good to have. They prove to you that you’ve accomplished some pretty terrific stuff in your lifetime, that you’re not as much of a loser as you thought you were, and that life is pretty good.

In addition, I’ve made a pact with a friend: when our tax returns come in, we’ll buy inexpensive bows to begin some archery exercise with. Once or twice a week, nice and early in the morning, we’ll meet down at the football field and work on shooting straight. Maybe by the end of the summer we can think about using targets.

Fun stuff. Not just work. Work was pretty much taking up all the important time I had. Now, what with this application for the teaching positions (no, nothing yet), I’m starting to shift focus to other things. Things that make me happy, as opposed to taking up my time because they have to. And I refuse to obsess about scheduling. Scheduling fun time defeats the purpose.

Babies

I heard a fantastic rendition of a Beethoven cello sonata on the way home last night, and I said to myself, “I could do that” – the operative word being could, of course, not can. It simultaneously thrills me and depresses me to know that if I practiced, I could be really, really good. If I get this teaching job it will free up a lot of time, which I intend to partially fill with regular practice sessions.

I’m still awed about Devon. What will she look like when she’s six? Thirteen? Twenty-one? What will her first word be? What will be her favourite colour? What will her laugh sound like?

Debra called me the other day and said, “Are you having baby pangs?” Heck, yes. Every time I see her four-month old daughter Elspeth, as a matter of fact. I’m fairly certain it will be the same way with Devon. I even dreamed last night that my oldest friend Annika was pregnant, and she looked fantastic. We used to joke that the three of us (Paze, Annika and myself) would all be pregnant at the same time. I think my subconcious is dredging that up and throwing it at me now that Paze is non-pregnant.

Babies – wondrous creatures who require much care and feeding. I know darned well that we can’t afford one right now, time-wise or financially. I’m trying to change careers, and my husband Ron has just started work again, after all. People keep telling me that it’s never a “good” time to have a baby with a preachy, syrupy tone, and it irritates the hell out of me. If you can’t approach a life-changing decision like introducing another member into your family unit who will be completely dependent upon you for several years with responsibility (financial or otherwise), then what business do you have doing it? It drives me up the wall that dogs require licenses, but they’ll let anyone have a baby. Anyway, we don’t touch on the subject very often, because it’s a bit sensitive all around. Our own families both have their opinions on the whole idea, and I think we’re both a bit afraid of what it will do to our own relationship (which has taken a beating over the past year anyway what with all the financial trouble and job-less-ness). We’ve made a tentative date to talk about it again at the end of this year. A lot can happen in a year.

Ever seen a pregnant woman play the cello? Probably not. Go ahead, laugh. Most of the people on the cello chat board I frequent who are mothers have said they had to play “side-saddle” for the last few months of their pregancies. Women at the turn of the century used to play like this. Instead of holding the cello between your legs (so unladylike!) you sit sideways in your chair, knees together and to the left, turning your torso to the right while leaning the instrument against your left shoulder as usual. If that sounds uncomfortable it’s because it is, and it plays havoc with the physics of cello-playing as well. If it’s your only solution, though, heck, I’d take it too!

On Diets, Both Physical And Spiritual

Anyone else ever forget to eat? Or sleep? Sometimes I think so much I forget that I need to fuel the body. I know that thinking uses calories, of course, but not as many as, say, raking lawns or prepping beds for planting.

I just wondered, because yesterday was The Christening of The Elspeth Morrigan (yeah, yeah, tell me about it) and I forgot to eat (a) before we went, and (b) after we got home. I had little nibblies at the reception afterwards, but nothing approaching a meal.

I do this all the time. People make nasty little remarks like, “Oh, so that’s why you’re as tiny as you are.” Well, no, because that has everything to do with my metabolism, not my diet. My diet ranges from prim and proper to grossly indecent: for a week I will crave salads and sandwiches, then the next week I’ll snack on nothing but mini chocolate bars (and that’s all my boss’ fault, for bringing in a five-pound bag of snack-size Oh Henry bars and Caramilk squares and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups) with the occasional lasagna. This has nothing to do with bingeing; I don’t pay enough attention to what I eat to binge. Working without a set lunch hour makes eating normally difficult as well. I refuse to eat if I’m not hungry, so when I have the opportunity to eat (i.e., it’s quiet on the floor) I don’t, preferring to get as much work done as possible before the hordes descend, which is usually when my stomach starts growling. By the time things quiet down, I’m not hungry any more. (Lose weight – work retail!)

So I don’t eat regularly, and I don’t eat a lot, and what I do eat is on average something that resembles balanced, I suppose, taken over the week.

The Christening: in a beautiful Catholic church (I was last there singing The Messiah with CAMMAC several years ago), with a wacky priest (who was fine for one afternoon but who would drive me nuts if I had to listen to him weekly), and holy water that didn’t melt or burn any of the Pagan contingent who were there to witness the daughter of an occult store owner be baptized. We giggled a lot, particularly when The Morrigan yowled as the priest exorcised her with chrism on her chest. His comment? “Well, she’s got the makings of a fine preacher!” We enthusiastically replied that we would support her in her growing faith thorough all her trials when we were asked in the ceremony, and rolled our eyes at the tacky little sorority t-shirt all the babies got that said “I’m a Christian!” on them (I kid thee not). I always enjoy looking through prayer books to see how a particular sect worships, so I made sure I took a look at the books ranged in the pews. Know what? The first service in it was Christian Initiation. I wonder how many people actually realise that much of the Christian faith is based on universal rituals found cross-culturally in many religions both living and dead. It just got better P.R. along the way. There is such universality to the concepts expressed in various religions that I truly cannot understand why people try to insist that theirs is the Right Way. Religion is about how you view your relationship to the Divine. What gives anyone the right to impose their Way on someone else?

Anyway, it was a wonderful afternoon, and a terrific experience of one of the Catholic Sacraments. I’ve grown so used to universal, non-denominational services that this was a pleasant change.

The IntraWeb

The strangest thing just happened to me. I was double-checking my blog page after fiddling with the template, and the banner at the top caught my eye. I recently uninstalled my ad-blocking software, so these are new to me. Normally they are pesky. This banner was bright yellow and advertised some place called Central Booking, with a catch-phrase of Read Like Crazy. Hmm, I said, listened to the Force murmuring in my inner ear, and clicked on the banner – something which I never do.

I discovered something rather cool. A whole community of people like me who think books are important, and who like to talk about them. Check it out.

Imagine. A banner for reading, popping up on my web log. I love my life.

That earthquake I posted about at ten to seven registered as a 5.5, and was felt from Niagara to Quebec City, from the northern US to the Laurentians. Nice to know I wasn’t just dreaming. (Hmmm – I was awake before six-thirty, and the earth moved. Coincidence? You decide.)

Well, it’s 7:30. I think I’ll go away now. Maybe a nice bath with a book. Then breakfast. Then HMV. Once home again, I will (gasp!) practice. My husband and I have made an agreement: we have a whiteboard divided into two columns by the instruments. Every time one of us practices we’ll log the date and time on the board. At the end of the month, we’ll add them up. This is an overt attempt to shame each other into practicing more. I have an eight-year head start, but I am graciously waiving that in the interests of fair play. (Ye gods – have I actually been playing the cello for just shy of eight years? Goodness.) I’m looking forward to the creative excuses he will come up with to explain his lack of chanter-playing.

Osteo Update

I had a pretty awful day back-wise yesterday – couldn’t sit at the computer, couldn’t sit on a couch, had to keep lying down on the floor staring up at the ceiling. This is not conducive to data entry, which is my at-home work on Tuesdays. It’s frustrating, because it’s a constant low-level pain that feels like it’s been spread over your back with a knife like peanut butter. So when the clinic called with a 7:30 AM cancellation opening for my osteopath, I said yes.

We found more trouble spots, in my lumbar region. She bent me and stretched me and I’m going to be sensitive today, and pretty stiff tomorrow. I keep telling myself that it’s worth it. It is; I want to be able to move easily. Turning my head from side to side is a new development for me. I like discovering what else my body is supposed to be able to do.

Oops

So I was sorting through some rings for a customer, and saw a pretty little claddagh ring. “Ooh,” I said to myself, “That’s a pretty little claddagh ring.” Now, I have tiny fingers (my wedding band is size 3 3/4!) and I rarely see rings that fit me. This one was size 4, so I said, “Ooh, I’ll just slip it on,” because while I don’t wear a lot of jewelry I have this odd need to try on everything we sell. It was a bit snug over the knuckle, but it went on all right.

Now, however, it does not come off. I feel slightly foolish.

At least the heart’s pointing the right way…