Category Archives: Art, Theatre, & Film

Weekend Roundup

There was polenta last night. There almost wasn’t, as I couldn’t locate my special recipe. Then I remembered that I’d published it in my last book, so into my office I went, pulled down my reading copy, and made my polenta. I used fresh lemon thyme from the garden, which made it extremely lemony — too lemony, actually — and the sharpest cheese I had on hand was old cheddar, so it wasn’t exactly what I’d been craving. But I fried two squares up today for lunch and they were better fried than fresh, as frying gave them a nice smoky flavour.

We had huge rare barbecued steaks and roast potatoes with it last night, and it was all delicious.

This weekend I also made a cake for the double birthday bash of Pdaughter and Sandman7, which was well received, and I enjoyed the associated party that we were both able to attend thanks to Blade agreeing to occupy our living room as the Designated Responsible Adult On Site. Sunday we finally went and got supplies so HRH can build me more shelves in my office cupboard (because one can only stack things so high on the ground and single shelf midway up). I’m currently in the throes of ‘must change office NOW’, and the plan is to box a lot of the current stuff in there (mostly teaching stuff in binders, etcetera) and store them downstairs, as they’re not currently needed (nor in the foreseeable future). Then with two new shelves in the closet, I can get most of what’s on the corner bookcase in there and perhaps eliminate the bookcase entirely, or at least reduce things enough that I can replace it with a half-size one, which will open the room up a lot more.

We had a lot of fun with the boy this weekend, watching him chase pigeons and laugh at ducks and run around the backyard. He had a three-hour nap both days. I’m guessing there’s a growth spurt happening.

This morning I at last figured out how to get the damned printer to handle duplex printing. And my in-box this morning held an advance view of Lu’s new collage series that she mentioned last week. I’m so excited; I can’t wait to see how the series evolves. I suspect I’ll end up commissioning a large diptych for my office wall.

Saying Thank You

Naturally, every show on CBC Radio 2 played Pavarotti recordings yesterday. Every time a new one started the boy jumped, turned around to peer up at the stereo, and said, “Hello! What are you doing?”

“That’s Pavarotti,” I said. “He is singing.”

“Oh! Otay.” Then he turned back to the stereo and chirped loudly, “Thank you!”

I’ve never been a Pavarotti fan myself — too much of the superstar thing happening, and besides, I’ve always been ‘meh’ about tenors and tenor arias — but the boy had it right. Thank you for singing. Thank you for making millions of people happy throughout your life. And thank you for sharing your love of music with the world.

Back From The Dead

… or from the bed, anyway. I am better, thank you all.

On the other hand, it looks like the dryer is sicker than I was. It should not take three sessions to dry a small load of socks and underthings. We’re looking into getting the vent cleaned professionally; that ought to help. In the meantime, the clothesline is seeing lots of time and I’ll be buying a wooden drying rack this week, something I’ve been putting off for two years now. If the line can’t be used, I’m going to put my foot down and limit everyone to one session in the dryer per load, then it’s being relegated to the drying rack. The waste of electricity is shameful.

Also, one of the funniest LJ icons I have seen in a while: a crop of a Mary Wollstonecraft portrait, with the words “I can has rights?” along the bottom.

Twenty-Six Months Old!

It is becoming increasingly apparent to us that we have a child instead of a baby, a child who can hold conversations, communicate abstract concepts, and with whom we can negotiate instead of legislate.

Among his favourite books these days are My Working Mom, Seuss’s In a People House (which he can read almost all of, so long as a parent supplies some of the connecting text), and Fish Wish. He reads the action depicted in pictures, describing what’s happening, often with snatches of actual story text interspersed. Lately he’s taken to running his finger along underneath certain words and saying the word itself. He’s not actually reading it, although it’s the first step: he’s recognising that these letters in this sequence means a particular word. Words that are mostly similar, such as ‘fish’ and ‘wish’, fascinate him. Compound words like ‘starfish’ and ‘jellyfish’ are very interesting as well.

His current favourite film is The Incredibles, although Lilo & Stitch is a close second. On Saturday mornings we sometimes allow him to watch Kids’ CBC on TV, so he has discovered and loves Arthur (which is fun because HRH worked on the show), enjoys Lunar Jim, and gets up and dances to the Doodlebops.

Among the new words in his vocabulary are enormous, cheeseburger, we, I, burgundy, too and also, sea anemone, trailer, whatever, Benjamin (as in Peter Rabbit’s cousin), and “yes, Mother” (a direct quote from the animated Tom Kitten story). If you ask him if he’d like something, he pauses for a moment then says “Ahhhhh…” as if he’s considering it, followed by a perky “okay” or “no”. ‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ are used nine out of ten times, and without prompting (including when he and his younger cousin were racing around and around his grandparents’ house and he accidentally ran into a chair: he bounced, blinked, said “I sorry!” and kept on going). If we get in the car he asks, “Listen to Cars music too, now, please, again?” Sometimes we say sure, and other times we say that we need to take turns when we’re in the car and Mama or Dada wants to listen to something else for a change.

In his world, every computer is connected to the Pixar website and can immediately play Pixar trailers. Except Grandad’s computer; it shows plane and train pictures instead.

He’s taken to going into the pantry and surveying what’s available before requesting what he wants for breakfast. Lately oatmeal with added raisins and a swirl of maple syrup is his thing, spurred early this week by seeing the new bag of oatmeal on the shelf. (He asked for the raisins with it; I offered the syrup.) He spoons the stuff up with great gusto and eats it in no time flat, only asking for parental help to chase the last bits of oatmeal around the edges of the bowl. At his grandparents’ house he fell in love with organic kamut flakes, and I can’t blame him: they’re sweeter and crispier than regular cornflakes. After warning him away from the green tomatoes in the back garden and waiting impatiently for them to ripen, I gave him half a red cherry tomato this week and he spit it back out again. Blueberries may be the most awesome part of August; peaches, not so much. I made homemade cherry popsicles and he loves them. Sauteed mushrooms over pasta with freshly grated cheese tossed with a bit of butter is the best meal ever. He has definitely discovered doughnuts, and they are the food of the gods. Chocolate milk is a huge treat when we’re out. He drinks from a regular glass at the table, and only uses his booster seat when he’s in a particularly active mood and we need him to sit in one place for a bit.

He asks for crayons by specific colour. Circles are his newest favourite thing to draw. When he colours in an outline drawn by one of us or in a colouring book he no longer scribbles randomly: he colours very specific portions of the image. Red may be his favourite colour, followed closely by blue, if the frequency of the request for a crayon of that colour is any indication.

When he leaves somewhere he says goodbye to everything he can see (and can’t see), including ‘up’ and ‘in’ and ‘out’. He played in a big pool for the first time this month with his caregiver, and after resisting it he fell in love with it. He loves to play soccer and kicks the ball around the yard, and he likes flopping over a swing on his stomach to swing back and forth while staring at the grass. Lying on our stomachs and watching ants is still a great way to spend twenty minutes or so. He’s so good at walking while holding someone’s hand now that we can walk through stores instead of locking him in a stroller or a shopping cart.

We appear to be raising a small geek (which will come as no surprise to most, I’m sure). Not only can he recognise Superman and Spiderman along with their associated logos, he appears to have absorbed the Doctor Who revival as well. This will amuse PDaughter:

GRANDMA: [speaking of her sister] … so I made her go see the doctor

LIAM: The Doctor!

GRANDMA: Yes, Liam. Do you like your doctor?

LIAM: The Doctor! Sonic!

(As in, a sonic screwdriver. The one used by Doctor Who. Yeah. Grandma was mildly baffled.)

He “sings” along to songs on movie soundtracks, echoing repeated or random phrases in the song, and inserting movie dialogue at the appropriate places. When he hears tracks from a film score he can describe what’s going on in the film at that time, making him the only person I know who can visualise and identify musical cues better than I can.

He wears size 3T shirts, 2T pants, size 5 diapers, and size 3/4T pullups. Toilet training is going so well that I bought him his first set of underwear last week, which he wears with great pride and excitement in the late afternoons and evenings. He’s barely fitting into his size 6 1/2 shoes, and has worn through the toes of his racecar sneakers. Good thing we have a pair of size 7 sneakers in the wings.

Maybe it’s because our friends all have bright kids who are being raised in a similar fashion, but to me Liam doesn’t seem any different from them developmentally. And yet I’m told by people who work with kids not associated with our circle of friends that Liam is unlike other children his age. Whatever. He’s Liam to us. He is normal for who he is. We read to him; we communicate basic values like responsibility and sharing and turns and respect and courtesy; we insist on a regular early bedtime, naps, and toothbrushing; we share time with him and ask questions and talk to him. And if that makes him unlike the average kid, then I don’t know that it’s the kid in question who’s different, or the parents.

Amused

The P&P 2005 film is brilliantly snarked scene by scene by Redcoast over at the Recapitulate LJ community. (Better late than never; this dates back from 2006.)

Pride Ampersand Prejudice part 1
Pride Ampersand Prejudice part 2
Pride Ampersand Prejudice part 3

[…]Three miles leaves a lot of space between the two houses, and it’s just good luck that they chose the same route and didn’t miss each other. Was Darcy planning to walk all the way to Keira’s house, even though he has horses, and knock on the door, and be, like, “Hey, is Keira home?” Because they’d be, like, “Nah, she had a fit and we think she’s ran off. By the way, your aunt is an asshole,” while staring curiously at his state of undress. And then Keira will knock on Netherfield’s front door, and the butler will be, like, “No, Mr. Darcy’s up and disappeared. Nice nightgown, miss. You single?” Embarrassment for both. Besides, if Keira were home, then what kind of impression is Mr. Darcy leaving her family with? I love you so much I proposed to you while only three-quarters dressed? That’s like proposing while wearing sweat pants. […]

Witty Title Here

HRH and I went out to see Ratatouille last night. It was brilliant. It’s a well-paced film that tells a decent story that didn’t make comedy its only reason to exist, humour well-done enough to make a crowd of sensible adults laugh, and of course, gorgeous gorgeous visuals that floored us. There’s a storm drain scene that had me feeling cold and wet and drowny, and a kitchen chase sequence that kept astonishing me over and over, just when I thought it had reached its limit.

A: Who storyboarded this?

[pause]

HRH: A god.

There was a short with no dialogue before the feature. It too was brilliant and had grown men who weren’t my husband giggling like kids. And there were no trailers. The lights went down and we went right into the joy that is Pixar. There was a brief introduction and the barest hint of a tease for their 2008 feature, then the short, then the main feature.

It was a great night out. It was also very odd, because HRH and I don’t go out very often. We went to the late show because the earlier evening show started before Liam’s bedtime, so we left at 9 and came back at 11:45, then slept surprisingly well. No one woke up till 7:30, which is also odd, as Liam has been waking up around 5:30 wailing recently. (We think the damn molars are moving again.)

Today I have to go to the license bureau to finally get the Medicare/driver’s license thing done. It didn’t happen last week because we walked in, saw the crowd of people, and HRH said, “I can’t spend two hours here, I have to get back to work,” so we turned around and walked right out again. Then I forgot about it, and only remembered this morning when I looked in the mirror and saw the wreck the dampness has made of my hair. Naturally this is the year I have to have a photo taken.

This is one of those days where I wish I could just shut down and wake up again tomorrow morning. My head is muzzy, the weather is meh, and I feel rather flat.

Noooooo!

We’re halfway through Pan’s Labyrinth. The DVD suddenly started degrading fifteen minutes ago, and now it hangs and jumps chapters.

HRH is making an emergency run to Blockbuster, because there’s no way you can leave a film like this half-watched.

Dress rehearsal today left me kind of glum and in that “why do I bother” headspace. I had to ask my section principal if my intonation had sucked as much as I thought it had, because I spent the entire two and a half hours feeling as if I was struggling to blend. When I can’t grab onto the proper tuning I end up skating all over the place, unable to settle down and be focused enough to play with the music instead of against it. She (lovely woman!) said that she hadn’t noticed anything, and I believe her; she’s one who would absolutely point out something wrong. I made her promise to tell me if ever I did anything wonky anyhow. The brass sounded almost too bright to my ears today, and it felt as if their sound waves and the string waves were fighting against one another. I couldn’t settle into the string flow properly and fought against those crashing waves all morning, missing entrances, shifts, easy fingerings, and rhythm stuff. On the up side I came home really wanting to play cello all afternoon to make it all better and to remind myself that the instrument can sound pretty, but instead Liam and I went for a walk, played on the slide at the park for half an hour (it got to the point where I just stayed up in the fort part and let Liam slide down, run around the structure, climb up the stairs on the other side, run past me, grab the horizontal bar set above the slide to swing out and slide down again all on his own, chatting with him as he narrated his actions excitedly) then we played in our backyard for ages because it was such a lovely day.

HRH just pulled up. Off to finish the movie!