humid
I watched TransAmerica last night and really liked it. Very warm here the last few days. The dogs look uncomfortable – I tried to coax them down to the basement where it is cooler but they won’t go down the steps. Too steep I think? Cinnamon is off her food a little but it's probably due to the heat. Now if Bow went off her food than that would concern me because that dog lives to eat.
Finally compiled a collection of some of my short stories and put them on Lulu. I call it Small Places (I don’t why – it just seems to be a common thread in the stories) And I had ordered a copy and am waiting patiently to see if it looks O.K. I did proof read it a dozen times but I know it's still probably full of typo’s and grammer mistakes. But that’s O.K. – I just want to see it in book form so I can give my stories (my book) a permanent home on my bookshelf – maybe even so boldly go as to slide myself in between a Toni Morrison and an Ann-Marie MacDonald. And every so often I can stop what I’m doing, just to look over at it and think “Look at me there collecting dust, binder to binder with such greats. How nice is that.”
monday
I have to do quite a bit of work today - It is due by end of day and actually I need probably two days to do it but I got a little stressed over it on Friday and put it aside, thinking I would do it over the weekend. But I pulled a Charlie Brown (remember his Gulliver’s Travels report that he needed to do over his Christmas break?) Anyway I did everything but work this weekend. O.K. so now I am writing in my blog. But that ‘s O.K because it is 6:30 and if I start at seven that will give me a solid nine hours to get it done.
The slow pitch team that Monica is on won all their games and is now in the semi- finals. Very exciting. Greg’s good friend from New York is coming up to visit us this weekend. Him and his new girlfriend, who I have not met. This is enough to stress me out even more. Although I am looking forward to it. He is a very funny guy.
And the other news is we have a new family that moved onto our street. I am not quite sure which tree they moved into but we see them every night now around dusk. They are so lovely. Must be a lot of mice in our neigbourhood. Or as Monica pointed out – might be a wizard around who gets a lot of owl mail?
thursday already
Well I can honestly say I feel very productive these days. Working almost full time hours for Greg and will be busy until the end of June. And I’m actually getting stuff done. He hasn’t even threatened to fire me in at least a week. So things are going fine. But what bugs me is how my self worth starts to climb with each billable hour. I mean I like this feeling, I just wish I felt the same way when I work without the paycheck. You know all those little life jobs. Like the housework and helping the girls with their studies. I feel these are just as important but for some reason I can’t get my self-esteem to join that way of thinking. Come on Esteem work with me on this.
Meanwhile, it has rained lots here and everything is lush. I left the grass grow too long and I tried to mow it yesterday with our small manual mower but I couldn’t get through it. I’m going to try whipper-snipping tonight if the rain holds off.
The dogs definitely did a number on our yard but still nature prevails. Flowers are still coming up. The clematis that they chewed through almost to the root decided to come up through the ground anyway and is now slowly climbing back up its trellis. And the rose bush that I planted for Sandy – last year it didn’t bloom at all but I counted three small buds on it this morning. I will post a picture of its first bloom.
Monica and I walked down to the shore Monday night to watch the fireworks. When we came back from it I took a pen and paper to the kitchen table and tried to write a poem about the two of us down there, sitting on this rock, it was a little cold, she was snuggled into my side, there was a big crowd, Everyone was shooting off their own stash of fireworks. Two boys were actually shooting fireworks at each other. And then the city sent up theirs and I don’t know. I just suddenly felt like it was a moment that was poem worthy – Erin and Monica are growing up so fast and I just want to remember that rock we were sitting on and her as a little girl.
The day before that I was at the mall with Erin, helping her pick out a graduation dress (Junior High) and she stepped out of the dressing room wearing this dress – it was a light lilac colour with tiny shoulder straps and a layered skirt ending little past her knees. It was so lovely on her – I got choked up for a second --- but of course she didn’t like it. She did eventually pick one that she liked. She is going to look lovely. And this weekend I promised Monica I would help her pick out hers. She is graduating from Elementary. My gosh. Lots to do for June.
horses
It has been a nice weekend so far except for poor Barbaro. Hope he will be O.K. I watch the Triple Crown every year hoping to see another Secretariat. I know she or he will show up one day but WHEN? The stars must have been in perfect alignment or something on the night when he was born back there in 1969. I was ten and remember clearly watching all three races with my family. We were screaming at the top of our lungs watching that horse outrun every other horse in the field – he made it look so effortless. Sigh. Love horses -- When I was a kid I went through that stage where I was determined to read every horse book in the library. The black stallion books were some of my favourites – the Island Stallion the best of them– Flame, I think? If I remember correctly?? Remember the big race with The Black and Flame? And the book Man of War – loved it. My friend Flicka, Misty of Chincoteague, King of the Wind and so many others. I was thinking about writing a short story about the Pony Express. A young boy and his leg of it- might be fun. I had that sitting in my idea book for a while now. I also have this science fiction idea and a vampire story that I think I want to try.
Today’s quote in Word a day was
The greatest part of a writer's time is spent in reading, in order to
write; a man will turn over half a library to make one book. -Samuel
Johnson, lexicographer (1709-1784)
I think that is so true. And not because Stephen King said it in his book on writing. I always thought that. The more you read the better you write. It’s pretty much a given. But would that mean if writing was your profession you could actually schedule your reading time under work? Imagine your workday consisting of writing for three hours and then reading for three hours – that would be like the ideal job. Wouldn't it? The only small problem is how dizzy I would get – both reading and writing make me dizzy if I spend too long at them. But I would take dizzy as an occupational hazard if I could be a writer. Never mind - I'm starting to make little sense now -
raining
Two muddy dogs in a white kitchen – what was I thinking when I decided on white?? I should paint the whole thing over a dark grey.
My sister and her family are coming up in July so I am looking forward to that. We also have a friend and his family coming for a visit and Greg’s sister, so it makes sense to stay put this summer. Enjoy our visitors, show them the city. And so maybe in August we will rent a cottage for a week somewhere up north of here. By that time I know I’ll need to get away from the city for a little bit.
Greg and I and Erin watched the documentary Grizzly Man last Friday night. It was actually kind of funny, disturbing and thought provoking all at the same time. I keep thinking back on it wondering if he had it all wrong? That his passion was mis- directed. That this cause didn’t really need him – that he more or less superimposed himself into it because he was the one that needed the cause. Or maybe he actually had it right (I have no doubt that he loved these bears and he did bring awareness for them but he also proved in a tragic way that they deserve more than anything our respect and our distance. You can’t be going around calling them Mr. Chocolate and tapping them on the nose. The documentary was almost like a what not to do survival guide. At the same time he was such a compelling character I can’t get him out of my head.
Little down recently. No reason – lilacs are out everywhere now. A childhood scent for me – that and lilies of the valley. I loved the poem on Writer’s Almanac today. Jo McDougall. It is a little like my mood.
Aureliano got undressed, tormented by shame, unable to get rid of the idea that his nakedness could not stand comparison with that of his brother. In spite of the girl’s efforts he felt more and more indifferent and terribly alone. “I’ll throw in another twenty cents,” he said with a desolate voice. The girl thanked him in silence. Her back was raw. Her skin was stuck to her ribs and her breathing was forced because of an immeasurable exhaustion. Two years before, far away from there, she had fallen asleep without putting out the candle and had awakened surrounded by flames. The house where she lived with the grandmother who had raised her was reduced to ashes. Since then her grandmother carried her from town to town, putting her to bed for twenty cents in order to make up the value of the burned house. According to the girl’s calculations, she still had ten years of seventy men per night, because she also had to pay the expenses of the trip and food for both of them as well as the pay for the Indians who carried the rocking chair. When the matron knocked on the door the second time, Aureliano left the room without having done anything, troubled by a desire to weep. That night he could not sleep, thinking about the girl, with a mixture of desire and pity. He felt an irresistible need to love her and protect her. At dawn, worn out by insomnia and fever, he made the calm decision to marry her in order to free her from the despotism or her grandmother and to enjoy all the nights of satisfaction that she would give the seventy men.
-- Gabriel Garcia Marquez, One hundred years of Solitude
I have my fingers crossed for Elliott tonight.
The trees are absolutely beautiful here now. Still showing bits of their long limbs slightly calloused by winter beneath flowery canopies. Some in full blossom and others in waiting. The Cherry tree in my neighbour’s yard wears her white like a wedding gown. My pear trees look young beside her, not so sure of themselves yet, demure and sweet in their tight pink dresses. They press their unopen flowers into the blue of the sky as if wishing to leave imprints.
tuesday
I promised myself I would clean the house today and I will, at some point, but I can’t rush into it. I might get hurt tackling all that dirt with one go at it. I must be strategic; mapping the lay of the land so that I don’t get blinded sided by two weeks worth of soap scum or tripping the elaborate alarm system that the dust mites have rigged beneath the beds. One can never be too cautious when house cleaning.
However, now that I sat down here I don’t know what to blog about. I am going to start playing a little tennis with my neighbour one evening a week. I can’t play tennis very well but I think it will be fun. And I am getting a little busy helping out with a few events at Monica’s school. And Yesterday I worked all day for Greg and got caught up.
I don’t think we are going home this summer. I don’t know how I will handle that but my sister and her family are coming to visit Toronto in July. So that will make up for it.
I haven’t been moving my word marker on my sidebar but I have been writing lots on my YA fantasy book. I’m still trying to figure out a name for it. I wish I had more time for it. I know it is as simple as making the time but I keep finding other things to do. I keep telling myself – once the house is clean I will be able to focus more on it, or once I get this done for Greg, or once the trim is painted, or once I get the back yard cleaned up, once the in-laws leave, etc.. and nothing ever gets completely done anyway so I don’t know why I just don’t give myself permission to give it the same consideration I give all these other things. anyway, off I go to clean.
I watched TransAmerica last night and really liked it. Very warm here the last few days. The dogs look uncomfortable – I tried to coax them down to the basement where it is cooler but they won’t go down the steps. Too steep I think? Cinnamon is off her food a little but it's probably due to the heat. Now if Bow went off her food than that would concern me because that dog lives to eat. 
