Heavens to Murgatroyd!

[The following stolen from an email I sent my ma and bro this evening. A good scholar always gives her sources.]


Today I woke up in time to hear the news on the radio. Here's a recap:

- man decapitated
- Montreal man found headfirst, dead, in manhole
- guy kills his teen son's girlfriend
- the hockey dude beating up a goalie story
- and it's the one year anniversary since Cedrica Provencher (Quebec's big missing child case) has been missing

I couldn't believe it. I just stared at my Barbie clock radio in shock. That's it Barbie? That's all you got for me?!! JESUS!

I went into work, dazed, telling everyone: "A man was decapitated by a stranger on a bus...." It's also one of those SUPER super humid days--must be the most humid yet this summer. Where it's not raining, and yet you feel like you've been rained on. If this were a novel, the weather would be an instance of pathetic fallacy.

That evening I had a customer who was picking up books for her kids.
Her six kids.
She has six kids, and is getting a divorce.
She has six kids and is divorcing the husband who cheated on her.
She has six kids and is divorcing the husband who cheated on her with her closest, bestest friend.
And she caught him on his Blackberry.

It's a mad mad mad mad mad mad world. So I came home and made banana-strawberry pancakes with vegan cream, and pistachio chocolate milk, and watched a cartoon movie with my husband and my three cats. My equilibrium that returned.

Kittylove Makes the World Go Round

One of the greatest love affairs I've ever witnessed is between my husband and his cat.

Tigernan, or Nombly, or Nomble-boms, was brought into our lives by my old roommate Delyriam. She agreed to *temporarily take care of him* (he was homeless) but we both knew that was a laugh.

I remember first meeting him--I opened the door to Delyriam's bedroom and there was this stripey guy curled up in her laundry basket. Well of course I loved him, cause I love all cats. His name was Tiger--how original--so Delyriam and I renamed him Tigernan, after the Irish pirate. But that was often shortened to Noms, and then Nombly, and now he'll answer to either. Nombly suit him somehow... cause he's all sweet and kind and cuddly.

I was dating Fernando at the time, and when he and Nombly met it was love at first time. As two children with Sketchy Pasts (Fernando was from a foster home, Nombly from the streets) they were soul mates. They're both worriers, and they turn to each other when they need shelter from a threat-filled world.

Whenever Fernando comes home Nombly just wants to be held by him; and when Fernando has a Nombly in his arms, you can see on his face that maybe the world is not such a bad place after all.

[I took this photo 5 minutes ago when I turned my head and saw this major cuddling session going on. The other pics are from the archives.]

The Story of Me: In Bookmarks

When my brother cleaned out the back of a closet before moving, he found a box that must have been my stuff stored in the Parental Basement, which accidentally made its way into his hands.

I threw out everything in it except this:

The date on the back says 1983, when I was 10 years old. Clearly Chewbacca should be added to two lists:

(1) My heroes. I always remember Yoda, but who was my hero long before Yoda? The tall furry one. Chewbacca, or--as I heard in a French translation once--Chico-ba. (Must be his pimp name.) Of course, I now know that Chewie and Yoda are old war buddies.

(2) My vegan influences. My animal-loving tendencies must have even trumped my feminist tendencies because it took me a long time to get over Leia calling Chewie a "walking carpet."

Sadly, I don't have one of these (though I do have a zebra backpack named Chappie.)

and the nets go on

I once said to my bro that the problem with the internets, as a pastime, is that it's open-ended. If you pick up a book to read, you're given an *out* every chapter, and if questions occur to you as you read (Where was Dickens born anyway? What does this word mean exactly? I need to see a map of this area.) you won't usually follow up on them, because you want to get on with the story, and it's too much bother.

Maybe if you have a gazillion cable channels, TV can be similar to the nets--or with the increasing abilities to choose when to view something. But otherwise, TV has built in limits. You don't control the programming.

But the nets just goes onnnn and onnnn and onnnn.

I've been researching for my book, but I'm loathe to turn on my laptop to check out a fact, or read up on someone. Because I know I'll check my email, and my dad will forward me an article that pisses me off, and not only do I need to respond but I have to back myself up with info, so the googling begins, but googling always leads to more googling because side stories catch my eye, etc.

I don't consider it a waste of time--I learn lots--but it's maybe a Misdirection of time. I need one of those child protectors that stops you from going to certain sites.

Out! damn spot

I have a spot on the palm of my hand that is itchy. It's been itchy for, I think, years, but only intermittently. So I don't really think about it, and haven't looked for patterns as to what causes it.

There's no physical sign of it either, my palm looks normal. (Well now it's red because I'm scratching it with my nice long nails.)

Weird. There are more things in heaven and earth than dreamt of in dermatology, I tell ya.

My apple walnut pudding is smiling at me! The cheek!

My Lovely Day (in pictures)

Actually got out the house today. The lovely Ms. Midnightstreet and Vidal took Fernando and I out to 1001 Pots (quite generous when you consider the price of gas.) It's a huge ceramics exhibit out in the Laurentians, that's taken place for the last 20 summers. I went with them once before and enjoyed seeing all the lovely creations. (I love pottery, but when shopping in Artisan Land you have to raise your threshold on what you consider a Reasonable Price.)


Here are two shots from the web site. Hard to give an idea of the scope--there's just plate after vase after salt shaker after mug.


Here Vidal models my blue vase.
And Midnightstreet poses before the Créations Li. Wai-Yant Li is a very talented ceramics artist we used to work with in Bookland, who is now eeking out an ACTUAL LIVING at making her delightful pots and things. We love the chubby happiness of her little people.
It was not hard to locate Fernando--not because of the red umbrella acting as sunshade (my genius idea), but because he was, of course, watching a pottery demo.

I was in the market to replace the Lovely Plastic Weight Watchers mug (I've never even been to WW--what the!) that holds my utensils, but as my kitchen is very plain and ugly (gray cupboards!) I wanted something colourful. So I bought one non-WY piece...

I guess I'll replace the Baseball Hall of Fame knife mug next year. (Though at least it's not plastic.)

Last time I went to Pots I bought the little tea set in the upper right corner (also pictured below, from WY's web site.) And last summer I bought the only thing I could afford, a wee tea bag stand which I use all the time (bottom.)

This is what my bowl looks like--I will smile while I eat my Weetabix.
And here is the creative artiste herself, caught in a difficult training-wheel-three-way-turn.
While I love the smiley faces, Fernando preferred her little city scapes, and chose the mug and... gravy bowl? Pouring bowl? Whatever.
Well, I quite like the little people too.

The pouring bowl has many features which I assume Fernando liked. 1. The interior design.

2. The cool indent on the side that makes for a handle.

3. The little ridgies. Very interesting.

Afterwards Fernando and I stoppped off at Dorval for a spot of supper, and now he's off Having Adventures downtown. When I got off the bus My Loverly Library beckoned so, ceramics stuffed under arm, thither went I. Here's a pic. I'm always sitting on the floor, looking through my choices.
Going to the library is like going on a cost-free spending spree. And now they allow 8 CDs, so I was able to fulfill my recent pop-mood without overpurchasing.

And now... to read my Shakespeare book and work out the plot for this damned novel.