Accidental Poet

Promises, promises

2009-07-08T23:30:00.002-06:00

Real post coming soon, I say, and I have a few ideas what I'll say and here it is time to create a real post and I got nothin'. If I start rambling, however, things may occur to me.

***

Some things are too big to talk about. Glen Eyrie. What can I say? this year when I went I was a little unsure as to whether or not I should go - how many years can go you learn about writing novels without actually writing one? but that's SO not what this year was about for me. We had a lovely too-short almost-week, our little group of novel writers (there were four different groups), getting to know each other and each other's work and really in so many cases being cheerleaders for each other. "and let us consider how to spur one another on ..." I left with a bone-deep sense of peace and belonging. J and I drove around Garden of the Gods afterwards and one of us spontaneously started to sing "Praise to the Lord, the Almighty, the King of Creation" and then we just kept singing. Until we got to the bit that goes:

Hast thou not seen? How thy desires e'er have been
Granted in what He ordaineth?

and neither one of us seemed able to sing past the sudden lump in our throats.

I'm going back, again and again and again, as long as Angie and Nancy and Kathy and Al make it possible, because it is a place that replenishes me.

***

On the knitting front, I've finished the rather pink shawl for my mother, save the weaving in the of the ends and the washing and blocking. I love it so much I want one in a different colour for myself, but I want mine to be wider and longer, and I don't spend that kind of money on myself. How I ever got to where I was no longer buying acrylic yarn is beyond me, but I can barely stand to TOUCH acrylic now, let alone knit with it. Makes for expenisve projects.

I've also finished a pair of socks from the yarn TechnoBoy brought from Oregon. I finished them in Colorado. I am now knitting a pair of socks out of sock yarn I bought in Denver, that I expect to finish in Europe. (I have already googled "yarn shops in Amsterdam" in anticipation of knitting Netherlands socks in Canada, once I've finished the Colorado socks in Switzerland.)

***

On the connecting with people you knew thirty years ago who then dropped off your radar - B and I spent an absolutely delightful day in Manitoba with a high school friend who now lives in Florida. (She's at her mom's for a month.) She has a gaggle of perfectly lovely children (seven under ten, mostly boys, all adopted) and uses the word "remonstrate" in casual conversation. She also has a completely flat stomach, but no-one is perfect.

***

On the Catching Baby Skunks front, A caught one at her uncle's farm last week. It sprayed, but not terribly badly, so we were able to take A home to Alberta with us without strapping her to the roof of the van. There is a 13 second video of it waddling into the bushes that makes you think baby skunks are very very cute.

***

On the Life is Quirky and Quirky Is More Fun When It's Happening to Someone Else front, the turn signals in my van have decided they have finished the course, fought the good fight, etc. TG went out to change the fuse, but the fuse was not burnt out, and now I am driving around town using hand signals until after our holiday. That never gets old, that rolling down the window and sticking your arm out, especially if your arm is rather short to begin with, so you have to shift WAY over in your seat before sticking your arm out ...it's been raining in Calgary all week. Hand signals in the rain cause you to go around muttering things about there being no crops in the city for the rain to be good for.

***

On the free grass front - that is, grass that cost nothing, not grass that has been liberated from its' thankless existence - our neighbours overestimated the amount of sod they would need to do their back yard and now our front yard looks like someone who has an inkling about yard care lives here. They even installed it for us.

Oh wait, also grass as in green stuff growing in a lawn like arrangement, not that other stuff.

***

On the Things My Mother Would Never Have Countenanced front - My daughter is making popcorn at midnight. She is thirteen years old. Why do I not make my children sleep?

***

Annnnnnnnnnnnd on the When Was Your Last Liver Ultrasound front - it's tomorrow, thanks for asking. I don't think there's anything wrong it (and indeed, neither does my doctor) but I cannot have breakfast tomorrow. And no coffee.

***

which reminds me!!! on the How Is Your Mother front - apparently there is no way to flip the Feisty Switch to "Off". She's taking her pills by mouth now, and eating three (very small) meals a day. She's often far too full afterwards but is insisting that her stomach is now working and the feeding tube can come out, thankkewverymuch. Gotta love her fighting spirit.

***

And on the What Are You Doing This Summer front, apparently this was the year TB decided to spend our accumulated air miles, so we are flying to Europe to spend a few weeks with his mom and her husband, who have rented a place near Amsterdam for a month. We'll be gone two and a half weeks, and are leaving our house guarded by a motley collection of vans, and a large dragon, just as soon as I can find one that will also take out the trash we forgot to take out today.

***

And on the Large Oozing Undetermined Injury on The Dog's Jaw front - why yes it's healed very nicely, thanks for asking.

***

And on the How Was Walking Around Winnipeg on July 1st? front ...it was lovely but caused me to rant about a few things.

A) if you know you are going to a place where there will be many people and it will be hot and you will be walking on pavement a goodly portion of the time - why oh why oh why do you bring your dog? Do you not like your dog?

B) summer clothes. Just because they sell it in your size doesn't mean it should be purchased in your size and worn.

***

And on the Long Post Much? front - I'm done. Did I cover everything?

Real post coming later today ...

2009-07-07T12:13:00.002-06:00

seriously, that's my To Do List for the day:

1. Finish rating poetry for the magazine I'd rather not name in case it's not appropriate to be blogging about the whole thang

2. Test the gadget my brilliant spouse has written to operate under Windows Vista gadgets.

3. Do a blog post.

This wee post here? Just to get a few more editting things off my mind, because there's nothing better than sounding like a stuck up judgemental jerk.

1. Don't copyright your work, people. Nothing like saying "Hey strangers! I don't trust you not to steal my oh-so-special work. Probably you can't write nearly as good as me so please publish my poem but don't steal it."

2. Never mistake profanity for craft. The first swear word in a poem? I keep reading, just in case there's a need for it. The second one? I keep reading but I've lost hope. The third one? I think "Dude needs therapy" and move on to the next poem.

As a member of an editorial collective, I'd just like to say ...

2009-06-24T21:25:00.002-06:00

sometimes your poem doesn't have to be stellar. Sometimes it just has to be the first one in a long long list of poems that actually makes some rudimentary sense, the first one that doesn't make the Editor, (who is also a mother who has to clean up the kitchen and walk the dog and visit her sick mother) roll her eyes heavenward and want to e-mail the rest of the collective asking if it is just that her dog is barking and the phone is ringing or is this collection sent in by Ernest Hope a long collection of pretty, poorly chosen words full of sound and fury signifying nothing? and weren't the last sixty like that? and will someone who has a passing acquaintance with a narrative arc please condescend to send us a story because we all have other lives to go and there are plenty of other things in our daily humdrum existence that make us feel like sticking forks in our eyes so we are likely NOT going to read past paragraph two of the story you have blessed us with if we are not yet interested 100 words in

Hang on, I may be ranting.

How are you all?

Headed to the Castle

2009-06-14T08:19:00.002-06:00

It's the annual pilgrimage to Glen Eyrie, so I am away from home and family. Trying to be my mother in law I made a huge vat of chili before I left so the family would have something to eat. The only thing it would fit in was an ice cream pail.

MSN this morning between A and I:

Me: how are things at home?

A: We're eating chili out of an ice cream bucket - that about sums it up.

:)

Here's a question

2009-05-29T21:09:00.003-06:00

(I almost titled this "Hey, here's a question" when I thought that possibly I had started a title with the word "Hey" once or twice in the past. Turns out I was right. I was going to link them but I couldn't figure it out in 6.3 seconds, so you'll just have to believe me.)

Was there a question? Oh wait yes there was. What's a word a person could use for the concept of "broadcasting" before there was technology? It's a mind-speaky thing - thinking so loud everyone can hear you.

Thank you.

mourn with me

2009-05-28T11:50:00.003-06:00

I've just had to cut "Corbin's eyes sought Kirna's, shuttered behind obstinate lids." and replace it with ...

Sigh ...

"She closed her eyes."

ETA: It gets worse. She doesn't close her eyes at all. She keeps clearing the table. All we have now is:

"Corbin's eyes sought Kirna's. She shrugged."

And I have a sneaking suspicion that whole eyes seeking eyes thing may need to go as well.

Deleting things isn't helping the word count at ALL.

Enough of the frozen solid pics

2009-05-28T11:26:00.003-06:00

I'm getting tired of that picture every time I go to my blog. Not that I (ahem) go read my own blog or anything. That would be solipsistic in the extreme. (If that's a word. Or even a concept)

If only I had a Twitter account, I could tell the world I love my new hair.

This would be why I don't have Twitter. I don't think my goal as a writer should be to produce things, on a daily basis no less, that make any potential readers I may have, say "So ???"

Wait. Isn't that what the blog is for?

Hey, world. I love my new hair. It's very blond and short and sassy. And did I mention v v v blond? Or blonde, even? The hairdresser (not the regular magician, who is away) decided that the fact that my eyelashes are invisible meant that I am meant to be blonde. She promised me that she would tell the regular magician he's been wrong about my hair colour all along, and then we laughed and laughed, as will those of you who know who we're talking about. And then she told a long funny story about a customer who attempted to prevent the regular magician from talking about politics for an entire haircut. And it was very funny, because TRM can't help it, and the customer kept interrupting him and asking "Are you talking about politics again?"

Now if only all those words I just wrote could count towards my daily quota, which I have almost attained except I also need to address the small matter of not having met Tuesday's quota, or Wednesday's.

One hundred pages by June 14th, or bust! Also there is knitting to do, and also there is cave maintenance. I have no time to blog. Leave me a comment and tell me you are SO DONE reading this drivel, so I will go and do those other things, will you?

Also are you as sad as I am that there is no nestfull of baby robins on my deck this year?

I cannot think of a title, which does not bode well for how focussed this entry may or may not be

2009-05-25T18:31:00.004-06:00

1. Hey hooray I finally got some knitting done at a soccer game. (yes I can so watch and knit) It's been far far far FAR too cold to do anything but this:

most of the season, so a day when it was warm enough to knit was welcome indeed. (I am the one in the middle. Despite festooning myself in knitwear, and wrapping the carrying bag for the folding chair around my neck to stop the biting wind, I am so cold here I cannot feel my legs. I neglected to wear two pairs of pants.)

Tomorrow, when they both have soccer again, it is supposed to rain. Spring soccer is so much fun!

2. Have been knitting. Shocking, isn't it? Have no pics because I counted the number of things I have on the needles and I refuse to document my appalling lack of focus. However, the Oregon sock yarn is knitting up very very prettily. Much way more prettier than the brown/teal combo I currently have on the needles for myself. Probably those ones will be too warm for the summer. Must knit the Oregon sock yarn first - it's half cotton, after all.

3. Have been writing. No-one is more shocked by this than I am. What is embarrassing is how easy it is to meet my teeny quota per day, and yet how quickly those few words add up to 1000, and then 1000 more - I could write a whole book without even *noticing*. (sort of)

4. Have not been burning dinner. Yet. Although if I do not hit publish this instand*, that may no longer be true.

*I do not even have time to fix this spelling mistake, apparently.

Now that's love

2009-05-21T17:24:00.002-06:00

So TechnoBoy spent 6 days on a road trip, driving all over the place and taking pictures of things, and just generally recharging his introverted battery. He returned home in the wee small hours of the morning today, bearing gifts.

B has a new toy jeep. He is delighted.

A has a lava lamp. (not that they call them that any more) She is beyond delighted.

And when it came to shopping for me, my husband, rootling around the Oregon coast, went into a tiny little "yarn and tea" shop in a small coastal town, and bought me sock yarn.

Just typing that makes me want to go give him another kiss for it.

Hey! it's Wednesday!

2009-05-20T23:33:00.002-06:00

So today I was working on a secret knitting project. I looked at my watch before I started. Right around 1:45.

I cast on 88 stitches, checked the time because I had to leave the house at 2:15 to pick kids up from school. (yes that's early but the reasons why I go so early are long and boring except for the part where I get to knit for 20 minutes while I wait)
It was 1:45.

Cool. I knit 2 rounds and checked the time. Quarter to 2.

I knit another round and realized I hated the way I cast it on, so I frogged it and rewound the yarn, and hey! I didn't have to leave for another half an hour, I should be all proactive and start supper. Was very pleased with the lightning like speed with which that pattern was knitting up.

I walked into the kitchen, threw 3 lbs of hamburger in the frying pan (saves time to freeze it cooked!) and glanced at the kitchen clock. 2:15.

Apparently knitting does NOT stop time.

Also belatedly apparent? That free watch I got at that store was worth exactly what I paid for it.

***

In other news, I was praying about the novel last night, telling God there was really no point trying to write anything more between now and my annual trip to the castle in June when it became clear that that was absolute hogwash. Really? I asked. How many words should I try to add between now and then? (it's hard to describe this, really - but there are times when prayer really IS dialog) And a number popped into my head and I went home and counted out how many days I could reasonably expect to write between now and then and came up with an embarrassingly easy daily quota. I am happy to report that I reached my quota today.

***

Never gets old

2009-05-18T23:43:00.004-06:00

8 am. Phone rings. I answer, amazed that I can even find the phone at 8 am on a Saturday morning, when I've been asleep for all of about 5 hours. It's my Mom, wanting to know how I am. The conversation is not long.

8:15 am. See above.

9:00 am I briefly consider pitching the handset through the bedroom window, but I've managed to misplace one of the three already, and then we'd be down to one, and therefore sometimes forced to SIT IN ONE SPOT while we're on the phone.

So YAY! she is feeling better but BOO! she is boredboredbored.

But that's not what the title of this post is referring to. No, the title is referring to ...stuff on my dog. Someone at church the other day asked me if the dog was getting paid to model and for a split second I thought "No, but could she? Maybe that would pay more than poetry." Alas, the questioner was referring to the recurring Stuff on My Dog theme of this blog. (seriously, why is anyone still reading this? I read the last 5 months over a few days ago and while I may be sketchy on the details, what I remember is "My mother is sick, look I knit something, still sick, still knitting, sick, knit, sick, knit ..."

In the interest of mixing things up a bit, perhaps I'll seek a different model for the thing the dog is wearing for you today. If I ever finish it. I started at 8 stitches and increased 4 stitches every other row, and I'm now at over 400 stitches per row (I did not improve my life one teeny tiny bit by counting those stitches, either!) and a row takes approximately 2 million hours to knit. And still I press on. Why? Because it's more tangible than a plot-less novel full of people I like, that's why.

"simple yet effective shawl"

2009-05-13T16:53:00.003-06:00

(that's the pattern name)

Here it is on my favourite model. (still needs blocking)

"Hope is a fine thing, perhaps the best of things."*

2009-05-12T16:57:00.004-06:00

SO.

Once upon a time in a faraway land, my mother lived in a nursing home in a different province, and while the people who worked there were kind and loving people, their hands were tied by policies and a very high number of people requiring "heavy care". In meetings to discuss how my mother's needs would best be met, there were lots of "Yes but" and "That's against our policy" and my brother and I were far far away in a different province and lo, it was Not Good.

(It is VERY IMPORTANT to me that I point out that I do not think the other home she was in was negligent in any way. The demographics were different and so was the staff/resident ratio. They did the very best they could with the resources they had. This is in no way meant to be a criticism of where she was.)

Yesterday there was a care conference for my mother. There were seven people in the room besides me, and all I heard was "We'd like to try ..." and "I think she would like ..." and "What if we tried..." By the time I left, she had a lovely new wheelchair (the BMW of wheelchairs. It reclines! and is still small and lightweight and it is a thing of well-oiled beauty, as we discovered when we took it for a spin around the nursing home today. It is reportedly very comfortable, as well) and the staff had committed to making her get out of bed to sit in it for at least an hour a day. This wonder of chairs just happened to have been donated by another family just a few weeks ago.

And the doctor said "Other than the feeding tube, she is in remarkably good health." and they all talked about the (admittedly painfully slow) progress she's been making in recovering from surgery, etc, and every single one of the people who see her on a daily basis commented on what a lovely positive plucky woman she is.

I know she won't live forever, but "progress" is just such a much nicer word than "deterioration", isn't it?

*free gift** to the first person who correctly identifies the source of the quote. Try not to google it, won't you?

**seriously. I will totally mail you a real actual gift.

I left the nursing home in tears today

2009-05-11T18:07:00.002-06:00

...because

Hope has a way of turning its face to you just when you least expect it
(Sara Groves)

I'd tell you more but supper aint gonna cook itself.

It did not snow today

2009-04-30T15:41:00.003-06:00

Tomorrow is May 1 and we have finally had one day in a row without snow. It's been a long-ish winter.

I'm not sure how to break an almost month long silence. I'm not very sunshiny these days, and am having trouble summoning enough energy even to make fun of things. Makes for boring reading.

However, I'm pleased to report that A got herself stuck in the dryer while doing homework the other night. Don't you just hate it when that happens?

Because we agree it needs to be said.

2009-04-06T11:19:00.004-06:00

(Lynette, this one is for you.)

Memory is a funny thing - subtracting from one person's mind what is absolute fact in another's. We remember food served at a wedding we didn't attend. I remember saying something incredibly rude to my brother the day I called him to tell him my father had died - and he doesn't remember it. He remembers only the news.

This is how I remember the day before I went home from boarding school for Christmas break, December 1977.

There are four or five girls in a dormitory room, draped over beds, lying on floors, laughing and joking. The phone rings down the hall.

"SUEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" someone shrieks and I thunder down the hall.

"Hello?"

There is laboured breathing on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Sue?" It's my mother's voice, but there is something horribly wrong with it. Fuzzy, thick, like it's coming from a different dimension.

"Mom? Are you okay?" My own voice is sharp with worry.

She starts to cry. "I - I called to say goodbye."

She'd taken every pill she could find, and just before she laid down to die, she called me, in my dorm a hundred miles away, to tell me not to give up on God.

The line goes dead. I stare at the phone, listen to the laughter coming from the room I'd just been in. There is no way I can walk back into that room. I leave the dorm, end up in the gym, stunned, throwing basketballs at a hoop, crying, and calling my mother a stupid stupid lady.

Lynette, do you remember? I hadn't, until your letter - "How is your mother? I remember her clearly." And after all these years, you came back into the story.

You come down the stairs from the gym balcony and wrap your arms around me and ask me what is wrong. You insist that I call someone, that I keep calling until I find someone who will go home and help her, you convince me it doesn't matter if my mother will "kill me for telling."

You save her life.

And last week, 30 or so years later, Mom and I agreed it's past time for this:

Thank you for being the hands of God that day.

Help.

2009-03-28T20:14:00.003-06:00

My body has been taken over by ...by ...oh it's too horrible to articulate. I have been cleaning.

I KNOW.

Not only have I been cleaning, I moved the bed to vacuum behind it. (and hey! there's the missing handset for the cordless! We're back up to 3 (like ANYBODY needs three handsets! That's just asking to lose one.) and child-whose-room-I-was-sure-it-would-show-up-in? Um, heh. Sorry.) I'm trying to be myself, I really am - I come in and sit down and say "I'll just check my e-mail first" but then Suzie Homemaker takes over and my head turns and sees the vacuum cleaner waiting to be put away and I get up and go to put it away and think "Hey I'll just vacuum the hallway while I'm here" and then somehow I'm vacuuming the stairs and the living room. It has been literal years since I vacuumed what with the paying of a housekeeper (part of my idyllic past) and the bossing around of the children. My back doesn't like vacuuming, which I've suspected for awhile, but had no concrete proof.

The master bedroom in this house is cleaner than it's been since ...well maybe two days after we moved in, I think. (Aside - I think B and I carried 40 books out of here. Forty. And it looked like a small pile to me. They're all downstairs now, waiting for the bookshelves to procreate and also the basement to turn into a Discworld type of library that is much much bigger on the inside than it is on the outside. I may actually have to give some books away - even typing that makes me twitch. B said "You are NEVER going to read all these books" and I said "Oh but I have. Some of them twice." and I am proud to report I rendered him speechless.)

okay where was I? The dog came out of the bedroom to see what that horrible noise was. We've only had her two and a half years - she's likely never heard the vacuum before. She was going to save me from it but it was a bit too loud. She stood cowering at the top of the stairs wondering why I wasn't sitting down somewhere with a book or a computer or some sticks and string and finally decided to just bark at it loudly, once, and watch over me from under my bed. (TechnoBoy says she hauled the phone into her lair under our bed, and he may be right. I'm keeping an eye on it.)

How far is Lethbridge from where I live? I've got that long to fold 957 lbs of laundry.

ETA: Oh right. What does Lethbridge have to do with laundry? TechnoBoy and A have been in Mexico with Amor Ministries all week, building houses over A's spring break, and just as I was typing that last blog entry, TB msg'd me that the group had just left Lethbridge. I thought a ten foot high pile of clean laundry might mar the impression that I had spent some time on household maintenance. It's an hour later and the laundry is all folded AND put away, except A's clothes, which are folded and sitting in the hallway, because she prefers it if I don't go into her room.

And yes, I am aware that this is an entire post bragging about doing things most other women get done on a regular, daily basis, with no fuss or bother.

Second thoughts

2009-03-27T23:30:00.001-06:00

So B was pretty sure he wanted to see the movie "Bride Wars".

Until my friend told him there was no shooting in it.

Wow. For a garrulous person, I'm sure not saying much.

2009-03-24T14:01:00.003-06:00

Took my knitting out to a restaurant, though.

Asian food, knitting, and a friend who would bother to set up these pictures - a lovely lovely evening. (That's a sock for A. I have lost count of the number of times I have started that sock over again, from various points in the sock, but I refuse to be beaten by a mere sock.)

Have knit some more stuff but I don't have pictures because I am kind to you. I was just sitting here thinking "At least I'm not one of those people who has 17 projects on the go at once" and quietly counting to myself the one, no two, oh wait three, um did I start those gray socks yet? make that four ...but really you can't count the baby hat because it's practically DONE. Oh fine, five. Reality is ALWAYS messing up my self-congratulatory moments.

(The baby hats are cute, though. Possibly they will only fit a baby squirrel, but they are still cute. I plan to take one across the street and ask them to try it on their baby's head for me - is that rude? will I have to make their baby another hat now? I left one hanging on their doorknob while their baby was off being born - does that count?)

So I did this thing on Facebook that all the cool kids are doing - first five people to leave a comment on the note get something handmade by me, and while I'm not about the popularity and peer pressure and stuff - everyone else was immediately inundated with "Pick me! pick me!" and people saying things like "Darn! I missed it! my life is in the toilet!" and my offer? One lonely comment.* Left by a teenager, no less, and therefore I am completely non-plussed** as to what to make. Toast, maybe. Also, are there really so few people out there who want me to knit them a hat? What am I going to do in my dotage?***

Right then. I'm off to either knit or go to Ravelry and spend hours looking at all the pretty things other people have knit, all the while berating myself for having five things on the needles and not spending time with any of them.

Seriously though, I'd have a lot fewer things on the needles if the baby hat knitting hadn't gone like this this weekend:

Knit hat A, for the boy baby.

Weave in all the ends and look at it and think "Yowza that's small."

Cast on Hat B, for the girl baby, with bigger needles, and knit several rounds.

Look at it and think "Yowza, that's big."

Go ask someone whose had a baby if Hat A will fit a baby. (I was at a hockey tournament in Fernie) Her reply? "If memory serves, their heads are this big" (she draws a watermelon in the air "so ...hmm." She caught a look at my face and then said "I feel confident that will fit an infant."

Go back to my room and measure Hat A stretched, which stretches Quite Far.

Frog Hat B and cast it on again on smaller needles.

Also it is impossible to knit and drive. However, if you are not reading or sleeping or knitting while someone else is driving, you realize that the drive to the Crowsnest Pass is absolutely breathtakingly lovely.

Apparently I have reached the end of my word dump. Come again, won't you?

* To be fair, you also had to promise to make the same offer.
** Last night, in my class, that I was teaching, someone asked me what a word meant and I said "I don't know. I don't know what these words mean, I just use them."
*** Which started last week.

A Really Big Long Post About Nearly Everything

2009-03-11T12:05:00.003-06:00

Feel free to stop reading at any point.

FIRST.

B's first play off game EVAH was last Sunday, and what a game it was. Now B has been in a bit of a scoring slump this year - he scored a lot in the seeding round, but when the regular season hit, he pysched himself out a bit, and had only 2 goals and 1 assist in 8 games, which is just not what he's capable of. However, he was pretty jazzed about his First Ever Play Off Game, and on the way to the arena he said "I'm getting a hat trick today!" TechnoGuy grinned "Go for it, buddy."

The game. B scores the first goal, and he's pumped. The other team ties it up, and then gets another goal, and then B's team-mate scores to tie it up and just a few seconds later, the other team scores, to make it 3-2 The Other Guys.

The third period. Nobody scores and there's great end to end action and it's really exciting and suddenly there's ONE MINUTE left and TheOtherGuys are still ahead and B gets the puck. TechnoGuy, on the bench, sees the look in B's eye and starts to laugh. B powers down the ice, waits, waits, and BAM! the goal that ties it up! 20 seconds left on the clock! My boy is grinning so hard I can see it behind his face mask.

OverTime. First OT period in B's life. He's hoping he gets to play for some of it ...and he plays the whole two minutes of 5 on 5. Nobody scores. B plays for half the 2 minutes 4 on 4 - nobody scores. B is just about falling over, he's so tired, but he says the 30 second break helps him find his legs. His coach says "You're the one that's skating your heart out" and puts him out for the 3 on 3, in Centre, which is B's favourite place to play. (He's been playing left wing because of his scoring slump) 2 minutes of 3 on 3 - nobody scores. B and T, an awesome defenceman, play most of it - still no score.

There are mommies on their feet in the stands. I have put the knitting away, afraid I'll snap a needle. A minute and a half into the fourth OT period, T gets the puck and slides to B, who slams it between the pipes for his third goal of the game.

Three goals in a 4-3 OT win. A hat trick, consisting of the first goal, the tying goal, and the winning goal. If that isn't the best way to end a scoring slump, I don't know what is.

Three days later, he was still chattering about it :)

Okay stop and beam about that for awhile, if you will. I called his name from the stands, not sure if he'd look up, because he tends to be a bit nonchalant about things, but he looked up, grinned, gave me a fist pump and hollered "YES!" So very happy for my boy.

SECOND

Mom remains in the hospital. In church on Sunday morning, I realized that in my "hunker down and wait it out" mentality, I had lost sight of what God might be doing in the lives of those around us while we were there.

Other things I have realized these long long weeks is that it's really none of my business what God might be doing in my mother's life, and I need to stop telling Him what she needs. (that was in one of my Anger phases)

THIRD

Winter can Go Now.

FOURTH

Made my son a pair of socks, which he loves, but does not want to wear. I have told him if he'd like to just keep them as a reminder that I made him something because I love him, that is fine. Aren't they pretty?

FIFTH

I've replaced the frogged hat with a real hat, which I should be mailing any day now, but today I am cold and tired and have a headache and am going back to bed when I am done typing this because I am not feeling well. (Also I am whiner, in case you hadn't noticed)

SIXTH

All done. Bye.

Because some days are lucky lucky lucky

2009-02-28T22:56:00.003-07:00

B's hockey team had some money left over. One of the other kids' dads knew a guy who knew some guys who were doing some fundraising for an organization called HEROS, the Calgary chapter. With a very generous donation from one of the other dads, and the leftover money in the hockey team's pool, the entire team plus parents and siblings had a party tonight.

This picture is worth the next 10,000 words I could type.

No, that is not a replica. It is the real thing.

And here I am again

2009-02-27T16:42:00.002-07:00

Dizzying, trying to keep up with the sheer volume of new posts here these days, isn't it? (although I have heard rumours of high school friends who found me on facebook trying to read the whole thing from start to finish, and may I just say, I admire your fortitude? That's a whole lot of silly to wade through.)

Right then. Let's do a numbered list, just for fun.

1. Mom is still in the hospital with a stomach that refuses to do anything but chuck stuff back up the pipe it came down in. She's getting discouraged and I am trying to be Cheerful. It works better some weeks than others.

2. Never say this out loud : "My children just have not done much puking" because if that isn't inviting a smackdown, nothing is.

3. We've all recovered from the smackdown.

4. In the same vein as #2, don't even think "Wow, what an easy knitting pattern. I've totally got it memorized already" lest the next thought in your brain be "What is that purl stitch doing here where all the knit stitches should be?"

5. I had two socks for B each half-done. The non-linear nature of such an approach gave him hives. "Why don't you just FINISH one already?" he asked and I realized I either had to finish the first sock* or admit to my nine year old that I was afraid of doing the next part (gusset. ick spit) because it might be difficult. As this is an attitude we as parents are attempting to eradicate from our children, I sucked it up and knit the fragging gusset.

6. Thank heavens for teenagers who don't see the world the way I do. I was knitting a hat to match the cabled scarf in the pic in some previous post. (by the way, it's not orange, it's PAPRIKA, according to the people who dyed the yarn, and THEY SHOULD KNOW) A looked at the hat and while I forget her exact words, they were something along the lines of "There is no one on this planet that will fit." I started to tell her I was just going to finish it and try it on when I imagined her reaction, and the valid point she would make about whether or not that would make any sense. I threaded the thing onto a piece of scrap yarn and yanked it onto my head. As the blood began to leave my brain and the room began that spinning thing it does, I went to show A. "See?" I said. (remember - blood loss to the brain) She was not convinced. I went to look in the mirror.

Yeah. Frogged.** Looking for 8mm double pointed needles as we speak.

7. The neighbour's baby is home, and is tiny and beautiful and very very thoughtful. While there are many health hurdles yet to be faced, their little family is experiencing a time of peace, praise God.

8. Despite all my best hopes and dreams, supper has not yet learned to cook itself, so ...bye :)

*(even though the second sock was up to the heel flap and I love heel flaps. Every time I "turn a heel" (that's knitter talk) I gaze on it in wonder and feel like a small miracle has occurred)

**(expression meaning "ripped it out" ie rip it, rip it, or ribbit, ribbit ...you can all sleep well now)

Hey, hi

2009-02-18T09:35:00.003-07:00

I'm still here. People seem to still be checking, so I thought I'd wave. If you all had bloglines or some kind of Feed Checker thingy (TechnoBoy's heart is bursting with pride at my demonstration of computer-savvy right there) you wouldn't have to check, you could just get notified. Ask someone else how that works, though.

So today is True Confession Day. I've been Facebooking lately with people from all the various stages of my life, which is ...well, frankly, a bit mindblowing. High school dorm friends. Wow. It was a small dorm, there weren't a lot of us, and we were without parental influence. And we had the exuberance of youth in our corner. There are Memories, and there are curious gaps in my memory. Really? I want to ask. You can hear my laugh when I type? and then I wonder What did that sound like? Did I laugh the same way I laugh now? And some insecurities surface - well sure we got along then but I ...kinda grew up. A little in some ways and alot in others, and yes ohmyheavens I would LOVE to see you and YES we should all converge on L in her southern home with her gaggle of children but but but ...will you like me now? Will you like who I am now?

It's all very odd, but a marvelous distraction from the Hospital. (Am saying no more about the hospital because a) I've been sick so I haven't been able to go up there and b) there's no change in either direction and c) I struggle with allowing myself to not be everything for her. She's got God, I'm just icing on the cake. God can look after her whether I am parked at her bedside or not.

So the True Confession part - you all thought I'd forgetten, didn't you? (look how cute I am, pretending people read this.) Well here's the thing. I've been facebook chatting and being all flippant and goofy and throwing out one-liners but now they're going to come and read this blog and find out ...

I knit in church.

And if that doesn't make me sound enough like an old lady - I knit in church to keep myself from nodding off.

HOWEVER it's not because I'm old and boring, although that may be true. I am almost incapable of single tasking. (High school friends are shaking their heads in disbelief. All that shrieking was about lack of focus? Who knew?) It is remotely possible that I have some form of ADD. (Cue guffawing from all corners of the globe) Sitting still makes me doze off - sitting still and knitting does not. I knit socks in church, so it's a small project, and I knit on bamboo needles so that when I drop one (you will notice I said WHEN, not IF) it does not clatter to the floor making a loud metallic scene. I have yet to ask our pastor what is more distracting, watching me knit or watching me fall asleep, because I'm scared he'll say both and I'll be back to having TechnoPotCallingTheKettleBlack punching me in the arm when he wakes up and sees me asleep.

And in the interest of full disclosure - I recently went to coffee shop to meet with a group of strangers I met on the internet. (A's reaction: "Way to get stuffed in a trunk, Mom! If you are late, I am SO calling the cops!") I did this for the express purpose of ...

knitting in public.

And I plan to do it again.

Now that I've gotten that off my chest, I'm going to go knit in the bathtub. Just as soon as I figure out how.

For better or worse

2009-02-13T12:40:00.002-07:00

Sunday was not my finest hour, wife and mother wise. To say that I am sick to the back teeth of this whole mother-in-the-hospital, yes-she-does-appear-to-have-something-amiss-if-we-could-just-figure-out-what thing is not only long-winded but understated. She's tired of it, I'm tired of it, and I can't shake the feeling that it's pure selfishness on my part to rail against going up there every day, an hour round trip, oh poor healthy me, having to be unselfish. Friday morning she woke up when I came in and said "Mom?" and I said, "No, it's just me" and she sagged against the pillows, deflated, and said "I want my mother."

So do I, I thought. So do I.

Sunday when I was done throwing things and yelling and crying and then apologizing to everyone I'd traumatized, I thought I bet my kids want their mother too.

Monday I hung up on TechnoLongSuffering not once, not twice, but three times. Three out of three times *I* called *him* only to spit something sarcastic at him and slap my phone down mere moments later. Some rational shred of who I am whispered "God? I think I am at the end of my capacity to cope here." but that's as far as the reaching for self-control went. I had to teach a class that night, which went astonishingly well and was energizing and distracting and driving home I realized I hadn't thought about The Hospital one single time, and I got out determined to Be Kind if it killed me. I came in prepared to apologize and be a grown up and walked into the kitchen ...and there were flowers.

He bought me flowers.

I hung up on HIM, and he bought me flowers.

I hung up on him THREE TIMES, and he bought me flowers.

If that's not loving your wife like Christ loves the church, I don't know what is.

If you had a black leather jacket ...

2009-02-05T23:45:00.003-07:00

Which scarf would you want? (there is no black in the striped one, even though the picture might look like it)

There's no pic of the cabled one alone because apparently even with an autofocus camera, I can't take a picture in focus.