Kicking Clay

New Kid In Town

2011-08-02T11:31:00.000-07:00

Well, it's official. I have a new company and a new blog! Not quite yet a new website, but coming soon... Check it out at: www.goldenthreadstories.ca

I'll still be writing here, probably with the same irregularity. But for all things narrative, Golden Thread Story's is the place to be!

See you there...

Daddy's Day

2011-06-20T13:37:00.000-07:00

Just wanted to say, belatedly, happy father's day to all the fathers, papas, pops, daddys, and dads who I saw out and about yesterday enjoying their children and being an important part of their lives. You are making our future better. Thank you.

And to the dads I personally celebrate on this day. I love you.

Life as we know it...

2011-06-20T13:29:00.000-07:00

The "You Are Here Room" at Daddy Longlegs Art Hotel in Cape Town

Well, so much for that! Here we are back again almost a week, with one entry to show for a month's worth of travel. Sigh.

A couple of reasons, really. First off, internet connections were few and far between, and often slow. Not that South Africa doesn't have internet service...just different expectations. The generation of family that we were staying with aren't particularly well connected and we noticed that most public wireless connections we found out and about weren't actually available to the public. So, a shift in thinking for us. And a lot less internet time.

The second reason for my blogging absence is that this was a very quiet trip. We had a lot of great time with family, many interesting conversations, lots of time sitting with people just being part of their day. We also did drive around a bit seeing scenery and animals, but not in a grand way. Just quiet. That too, was an adjustment for me. So, all in all, many stories, of the kind that will weave themselves into conversations and thoughts as they come.

And now it's back to life, as we know it...

Time flies!

2011-05-31T13:35:00.000-07:00

Already gone ten days and only my first entry! Partly the busy days, partly the unpredictable nature of this place, partly the irratic Internet access. Certainly not for lack of material to write about!

The first 9 hour flight was actually pretty good. Jaya is a great traveller, when he's not refusing to sleep. We spent our first day in Amsterdam with Henk, lounging in his gorgeous garden by the canal and wandering the winding streets of his historic neighborhood. It was pretty much perfect.

After a very short night (Jaya was up at 2, ready for daytime), another flight, this one almost 12 hours. But again, not too bad. Jaya was happy and entertaining. Of course, he refused to sleep again, resisting until about half an hour before we arrived, when we had to wake him. I think he got a total of six hours of sleep in 48. I can't believe that's even possible, but true, nonetheless...

So, needless to say, it took us a few days to get back on track. But you can't sleep all day, so we still managed to squeeze in a few wine tastings, a trip to Franschoek, a bit of Cape Town shopping, some tying up of loose work ends and lots of family visiting.

And in the last week - we've toured around Cape Point, visited Kirstenbosh gardens, hiked on Table Mountain, shopped, eaten amazing food, and visited lots with family. How's that for a summary?

So yes, we're having fun and seeing lots. But more than that, even walking down the familiar streets around Athe's house, the common theme is how present dad feels here. So amazing to watch Jaya charming everyone and see their reactions to him mirroring what I can so easily imagine would be dad's. The same expressions, the funny faces and playfulness with little ones that was his best stuff. It's nourishing, somehow, and somewhat unexpectedly.

Well, that's it for now. Photos to come.

The storm before the calm

2011-05-16T20:28:00.000-07:00

Heading to South Africa in three days! I had 30 things on my to-do list just for today. There are still 10 on there, not including the ones I moved to tomorrow, 'cause they just weren't going to happen. Bleh.

But three days from now, we will be on our way, with only limited ability to do anything more. Somehow not as comforting as I hoped that thought would be. But I still have three days. And it's amazing what you can do in three days.

Stay tuned for more on the adventures of us in Africa...coming soon to a blog near you...

Go Well, Kali Girl

2011-04-04T12:48:00.000-07:00

1996-2011

We love you, Kali. Go well.

Walking

2011-03-26T13:38:00.000-07:00

Who knew? Turns out this year is just not at all, even the tiniest bit, about me. It is not about baking more bread and making more time for myself. It is not, so far, a great year. It's not even a good year. It's been a shitty year, actually, so far.

I'm not sure if I've quoted this before, but it bears repeating. “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” (Elizabeth Stone). To this I would add, making the decision to love is momentous. Anyone. Anything. Making the decision to love is making the decision to relinquish and accept. And loss is the consequence.

This year, so far, I have lost a dear friend, a water heater, my husband's ability to move his jaw for the next six weeks, my dog's health, jaya's chickenpox-free status, the brake pads on our van, and quite a bit of water in the form of tears. Also, probably, some of the pigment in my hair. It's been a hell of a year, so far.

And yet, so far, I am not lying on the floor in a catatonic state. I feel loved and supported. I feel blessed to have in my life all the people and things and circumstances that make the possibility of their loss so, well, inevitable. They are worth it.

Actually, I take it back. This year is about me. Of course it is. I'm the one living it. It's just not about me being in control. I think, maybe, it's about letting my heart go walking.

There is Snow In My View

2011-01-20T11:06:00.000-08:00

Well, thank you January, for kicking my self-satisfied ass.

The first couple weeks back to work were, in a word, yuck. Super stressful, demoralizing, frustrating, hearthurting yuck. It involved a bunch of decision making, some tears and hard words, some fence mending and apologizing, some pride swallowing, some long term thinking, and finally, the postponement of our trip to South Africa. Because of a university policy I wasn't aware of, I had to choose between the trip as we had planned it and my extremely part-time job. I chose to stay and am very much hoping that will prove a well-made decision. And now we are going to South Africa in the winter to plant mango trees (for dad). Sigh.

Also, I have realized that despite my plan that this would be year about bread and time for me, I have learned, in short order, that it is also going to be a year about difficult working relationships. My work life is offering me up some significant challenges I haven't encountered before and since I have nothing else to do, I thought maybe I'd take them on. Or maybe it's because I'm an idiot. Either way, on we go.

As for the rest of my life, it's just fine. Jaya continues to be awesome and two, which is hilarious most of the time, and occasionally not; K- and I continue to work on our stuff which is mostly not hilarious, but occasionally amuses others; the house continues to loom unfinished and wanting; the mice continue to dance across the kitchen floor. Literally.

But, thankfully, inspiration continues to appear most randomly. Case in point, with thanks to Sarah: http://summerpierre.wordpress.com/2011/01/10/reflections-on-a-year-of-motherhood/

And that, my friends, is the view from here, and there.

About to Begin

2010-12-29T15:03:00.000-08:00

Well, it has been a while!

I won't recap, except to say that Christmas was wonderful this year - calmer than most, surprisingly, given the toddler in the house - and filled with just the right balance of making, eating, sharing, giving, eating, receiving, visiting, and eating. Yes, just the right balance. Yum.

And now I'm starting to think of the new year about to begin. I actually love this time of year, starting with the grand gesture to close a year that is Christmas and finishing up with a beginning. At the risk of sounding culturally simplistic, I love that this whole part of the world celebrates together in our own homes and in our own little ways.

The start of a new year, for me, is a full embrace of the cliche of it all. New beginnings, new ideas, new hopes. I make resolutions, not because I think I should be better and January is the only time to make that happen, but because I like the setting of intention and the focusing of energy on some aspect of my life that I think I can enjoy even more. Because let's face it, it's a bit ridiculous how much I get to enjoy my life.

So this year, my intention is to focus our home and family on less consumption and more production. More bread will be made, more recycling of materials into new things we can use again, more creating. Less buying. This last one is really about me, not this family, since I'm the shopper, and it's a hard habit to break. I don't expect this will be the last year I make this resolution. But I do expect to have a good time trying. And you know I won't do it if it's not fun, right?

My second intention is to make more time for myself. I'm putting it in writing now - I plan to get away by myself for one overnight at least every couple of months this year! A recent trip to Seattle with Emma made me realize how much I need this time. I came back with so much more patience and energy. I think this is the one thing that's hard for me about having embarked on this whole partner and family thing so quickly and fully. (and really, it is just one thing, so I'm not actually complaining...!). But for someone used to being on their own, suddenly being so entirely connected to the wellbeing of others can be kind of overwhelming.

So, more bread and time away. What a good year it's going to be!

For the Love of Basil

2010-09-28T11:58:00.000-07:00

Last week, we held another Flavour Bible Sunday. My sister was our guest. Basil was our flavour. And with no further ado, here is the menu...

Basil Martini - Blended ice with vodka, 1 whole lemon, about a teaspoon of sugar and some basil leaves. Mixed about half and half with tonic water in a short martini glass. Delicious!

Appetizer - fresh baked egg bread, homemade mozzerella balls, tomatos from our garden and basil (bought, not grown, since we just used all of ours to make pesto!), drizzled with balsamic and olive oil. Yum yum yum.

Main Course - ravioli we made ourselves, stuffed with mushrooms (crimini and portobello), goat cheese and...basil, of course! Topped off with pesto (ours was basil, Kasari's was red pepper). Both fantastic.

And for dessert....blueberry and basil compote with ricotta cheese. Guests were suspicious, but won over in the end.

I really do have to work on my photographs - they're always a case of "oh no! we didn't take a picture! stop eating!" Hopefully next time, I'll do the food justice. In the meantime, you'll just have to trust me. It was fan-friggin-tastic.

How unimportant

2010-09-20T11:33:00.000-07:00

I just read a lovely little blog post that I want to share. Actually, I can't decide if it's entirely lovely, because it points up something that disturbs me, but also comforts. It's an odd thing. The post is about how nothing in the writer's life is actually important, including plastic, his car, his tv, etc. Which is disturbing at face value. When he explains why, of course, it's not really the object, but what it enables in his life, and the things that "really matter" come shining through. But still, he is left realizing that it's all important.

It got me thinking.

Anyway, read it, if you have a minute (it's short), and see what you think.

http://shavingsanddust.blogspot.com/2010/07/importance.html

Not enough days on the beach

2010-08-18T21:54:00.001-07:00

Coming to the end of the summer as we are, I am only just now realizing that we have spent far too few days at the beach. Today, at least, we were there. And loving it. Happy birthday Cole!

A couple kinds of First Steps

2010-07-20T11:00:00.000-07:00

So, Jaya took his first steps on Friday! We were in the doctor's office for his immunizations and he just let go of my leg and took two and a half steps forward. He was probably trying to make a break for it, but still, it was very exciting. He did it a couple more times through the day. And hasn't done it since. Oh well. I'm still thrilled. I figure he was probably distracted by the fun of folk fest and all that dancing (which he does brilliantly and at every opportunity), so we'll see what the week holds now that things have settled a bit.

The second first step was mine and Kasari's. I haven't talked about it here before but my sister's kidneys are failing her and she is going to need a transplant sometime soon. We don't know if it's a matter of months or a year or more, but we do know she'll need one. Actually, we know she'll need more than one, since a transplanted kidney only lasts 8 to 15 years (ish...it's hard to nail anyone down on this one), but that's for the future. For now, we're on the hunt for a healthy kidney. So I went for my first compatibility test a couple of weeks ago and found out yesterday that we're a blood match. Which is wonderful news.

There are still a million steps, or so it seems, to take before we know if this will work, how it would work, and what our other options are, but this first one was kind of a deal breaker and I am so glad it means our doors are still open.

So, first steps all 'round. And you can be sure that updates will follow on all fronts...

The View From Here

2010-07-06T10:00:00.000-07:00

Another new theme. Just a photograph and maybe a word or two about the view from here. Whereever here is today.

And where better to start than on the front porch couch, under the cherry tree, in the sunshine...

Flavour Bible Sundays

2010-07-05T10:25:00.000-07:00

No, we haven't found god over the weekend. Although, if god was to be found, I'm quite certain it would be folded into beautiful fresh food and hiding behind excellent company.

We have a book called the Flavor Bible that we pull out every once and awhile, although strangely always on a Sunday, open up to a random page, and choose a food to build our menu on. The beauty of this book is that is provides an extensive list of ingredients, each followed by a long list of flavours that go well with said ingredient. There are no recipes, although a few sample menus and photographs sometimes help stimulate the imagination, but the flavour combinations are all the inspiration we need.

Yesterday's food was figs. Completely random and completely perfect, since the fresh fig is just coming into season and had just arrived at our local grocery store that day! So, we invited my sister and Kelsey's brother and this is what we ate:

Fig Supreme Cocktails to start
Fig Salad with goat cheese, raspberries, walnuts, proscuttio (for the meat eaters), and arugula (although I actually forgot the arugula - but I think it would be good!)
Pear and Ricotta Pizza with caramelized onions
and Roasted Figs (in butter, brown sugar and a dash of wine) with Creme Fresh (mixed with maple syrup and Grand Marnier) for dessert

Yum!

We call these Flavour Bible Sundays, but I think we need a slightly catchier name, so I'm working on that. I think this requires a new label, don't you?

Bringing some order to bear....

2010-07-01T16:11:00.000-07:00

I've been labeling things lately. It's very satisfying and helps me feel like I know what's what. Or at least, if I don't know what it is, at least what to call it.

And as I've been thinking about this blog, which I've also been doing lately, I realize I keep coming up with good "labels". Things like, "loving where I live" or "people are weird". Of course, you may have noticed that I'm not actually writing the blog entries that go with these labels, but I could. And I'm thinking I will try.

So, as you may notice, I've decided to give my posts some labels. And I hope to add a few more grand themes over the coming weeks. Stay tuned for more labeling madness, coming soon, to a blog near you...

Dad's Day

2010-06-20T22:13:00.000-07:00

Today I thought a lot about my dad. How much he would have loved to know Jaya and see me being a mum. I spent some time today being sad, and missing him. I imagined a few of the conversations we might have had over the picnic lunch we usually went in for. That always helps, because no matter how sentimental those imaginary conversations start out, I can never quite ignore the sardonic comment he probably would have ended with. And thankfully, that makes me laugh.

And of course, we managed to squeeze in a bit of celebrating for Kels today too, before he went off to tell the world (or at least, Main Street) about his new bikes. And I definitely also thought, today, about how wonderful Jaya's papa is and what a lucky boy he is to have Kels in his life.

So happy dad's day to all. Hope you all had reason to celebrate or remember or both.

Lickety Split

2010-05-23T18:38:00.000-07:00

And then, home.

From Edinburgh, it was train ride to Glasgow, then a plane ride to Vancouver. Jaya took it all in stride, especially loving all the kids on our flight (although I'm not sure the child-less passengers were quite so thrilled). So, I would say a successful traveler, this one.

Of course, it's taking us a few days to get our sleep legs back. Thought we were on track, but last night was a bit of derailment, so we'll see...And so, home again and all the same preoccupations.

June marks the beginning of a different time though. Although I'm not going back to Cap U until September, I'm considering myself back to work part-time (the lack of a paycheque is no deterrent...at least, not yet) and so busy trying to arrange childcare and figure out how I'm going to define my days. I'm excited, though, and very ready, to own a part of my day again. So, some new preoccupations are on the horizon and they're looking pretty shiny from here.

Being away was wonderful, but coming home is, in the end, the best part of all. This life is just simply a great one to have.

If it's not Scottish, it's CRAP!

2010-05-19T17:25:00.000-07:00

We spent the first afternoon in Edinburgh taking advantage of Lois' excitement to see Jaya...leaving him with her for a couple precious hours on our own.

On our way up the Royal Mile we took in the ridiculous amount of touristy tartan trash and the equally ridiculously beautiful stretches of seriously old style...and then just happened to bump into the Tarbottons on the corner and had tea. Of course.

The next day, we headed to the island of Lismore for a couple of nights of slow and cosy farm living. We joined Archie, his daugher Ann, her husband John, and her sons. Archie's other daughter Sarah was there as well, with her sons, for lunch, and the moment we walked in we felt like part of the family. Bread, cheese and tea on the table, sheep and furry cows wandering around outside the window. Absolutely perfect. It felt like more than just a day and a half, but we managed to cover a good part of the island...having a tour of Sarah's lovely studio on the sea (during which I happily adopted one Lavinia), taking in the one general store and the one cafe on our travels (of course), along with most of the sights (which are surprisingly plentiful for such a small island, I might add).

Despite hearing that the airports might close again (go volcano go!), we did have to head back on Tuesday, but we took a meandering route to allow for a tour of the Oban distillery, a scenic drive through the highland moors, lunch and a charity shop in Callender, a drive-by wave at two of the castles that appear in the Monty Python movies, and a self-guided tour of the Falkirk Wheel. Jaya was a road-tripping star, which was really what made it all possible.

That night was one of the much-anticipated highlights. An evening out. Even though we didn't get out of the house until 9pm and only managed dinner, it was still everything I had hoped and dreamed. We went to the recommended David Bann (thanks Zoe!) and were suitably thrilled by everything. Super yummy flavours, awesome combinations, gorgeous looking plates. We had wine, we talked, we canoodled. It was like a real date. With a curfew and guaranteed middle-of-the-night wakings by small screaming child, but still.

On our last day in Edinburgh, we managed to combine quite a number of city highlights with a leisurely pace, which was just right for a last day. We headed up Arthur's Seat with Lois and Archie, romped on the grass in the gorgeous sun (our first really warm day the entire trip), had lunch at the Sheep's Heed (just the oldest pub in Scotland, don'cha know), took a tour of Edinburgh's secret garden (I'd tell you where it is, but then I'd have to, you know, kill you), went downtown to one of the national galleries, wandered through Princess Gardens, took a double decker bus home, ate dinner, packed our bags, and crashed.

Last Days in Holland

2010-05-14T09:26:00.000-07:00

In which we covered the northern part of our Netherlands trip, returned to Amsterdam for one last hurrah, headed over to Edinburgh, spent time on the Island of Lismore, headed back to Edinburgh and then jumped a plane.

Our time with Harriet and her family in Zeijen (tiny tiny town in the mid-north of Holland, pronounced kindof like Zion) was wonderful. They are such welcoming people! After "Venice", we visited the biggest zoo in Europe (seriously huge and pretty impressive...my mixed feelings about zoos aside), and Jaya saw his first baby moose - just born and taking it's first steps. Very cool.

Then it was back to Amsterdam for one night at Henk's (Kelsey's uncle). Henk's place is gorgeous...right on a dyke, and including two extra lots that he leases from the city as an extended garden. Fantastic. Henk's pretty great too.

And then it was time to go. Sad to say goodbye, knowing we're not likely to be back for five or six years...but I really felt like I got to know the people who populate that part of Kelsey's life, and I know Kelsey felt renewed. His Dutch is pretty incredible for someone who spent just six months learning it when he was 14. People constantly commented that he sounds like a native speaker. And I really notice now how must more fluent he is with Jaya, with just that little bit of practice. I think Kels misses the linguistic company though (Jaya's conversational skills are fantastic, of course, but perhaps a little less nuanced than Kels is looking for), so any of you Dutch speakers (Marijke?) are welcome for dinner any time!

Happy Moeder's Daag!

2010-05-10T13:42:00.000-07:00

Okay, so a bit belatedly, but still, it was my first, so I'm pretty excited about it. Hope all of you who are, or who have, mother's, enjoyed the day! Jaya started out the tradition in good form - playing nicely downstairs while Kelsey brought me breakfast in bed, and then handing me a lovely card his new friends helped him make. I look forward to years of macaroni cards and bad coffee in bed!

As for our dutch travels, they are progressing quite nicely. We spent a few days in Utrecht with Kelsey's dad's cousin and her family.

Utrecht is a beautiful city - more laid back than Amsterdam and in some ways, more historic. Gorgeous canals that just sing out to be sat beside in the sunshine with coffee. Unfortunately, it was raining, and Jaya doesn't drink coffee, but still, very pretty.

Kelsey also got to see his 97 year old great-aunt, who was thrilled to see him.

Oh, and there was a parking lot for bikes. With space for 40,000. And that's just one of several. Did I mention they like their bikes here?

Then it was on to Zeijen, a village of about 800 - a pretty big change from the big cities. Our hosts are the family that Kelsey stayed with when he came to the Netherlands at age 13. They are super happy to see him and it's been lots of fun getting to know them all.

Yesterday, we went to the "dutch venice" and today went for a cycle through the countryside. Jaya whined through most of it, but I know he's secretly having a great time.

So, we will explore the country some more over the next few days, and let you know how it goes. Hope all's well where you are.

A bicycle built for two, or three, or four....

2010-05-04T02:45:00.000-07:00

So, we're really starting to get into this whole holiday-ing thing! We spent the first five days at Kelsey's cousin Reuben's house, and now we're at his cousin Iris's place. The street they live on (a dijke) is too narrow for two cars to pass, but bikes ride past at a rate of about 1 every 30 seconds, at least. I suppose it goes without saying, but the bicyling culture here is simply fantastic! There are a million different kinds of kids seats for the back and even the kids bikes have seats for dolls...

And, in case the millions of bike paths weren't enough for you, you can even bike vertically -

So, we've toured Amsterdam by bike (of course), on foot, and by boat.

It's a city worth seeing as many ways as possible. Especially the red light district...

A few days ago, we did our touristy duty and checked out a recreation of a traditional Dutch village - complete with working windmills. Japanese tour groups aside, it was very cool.

I'm not sure we could fill the shoes of those old time dutchers, though...

And finally, today, we went to a festival in Haarlem that Kelsey's cousin Anneke helped organize - a pop festival for peace...or so we think! It was mega crazy with people and Jaya enjoyed the sightseeing...

So, that's us caught up to today. Tomorrow we head to Utrecht for more visits with family and a whole new city to shop in...I mean, explore...

A Happy Queens Day to All!

2010-04-30T13:19:00.000-07:00

So, today was Queens Day - a big deal here. It's basically an annual opportunity to wear lots of orange and drink lots of beer. The streets (and canals) of central Amsterdam are packed for a party that goes on all day and all night. Nothing can quite describe it like photos, so here are a few...

Where there's beer, there's men peeing, so why not be prepared? (And yes, we did see plenty of people using them...and for the girls you ask? Just 2 Euro to pee inside...so much for the enlightened europeans...!)

So, of course, we had to join in the fun!

(yeah, okay, so the beer is Belgian, but the boys are all Dutch!)

(our little angel)

Also, because we have some catching up to do, here's what else we've been up to...

Jaya's first ever airplane ride. Completely oblivious.

Jaya meets Rosie. Chews her seat, pulls her hair, pokes her in the eye. It must be love.

Jaya and Kelsey take in the sights of London town.

Stay tuned for more fun and adventure to come!

Daag!

2010-04-29T14:22:00.000-07:00

Well, we're here, we're happy. We're hoping to sleep better tonight. More to come, with photos, but that's the low down on the adventures so far.

And now, off to bed!

Off like a turd of hurtles

2010-04-24T21:57:00.001-07:00

Well, tomorrow's the big day.

We're all packed and off on our European adventure - a 10 month-old and lots of snacks in tow. I'll be posting the occasional pictures and video here, so stay tuned for the three-ring adventures of the Govenkoop clan on the move.

Silly Bird

2010-04-08T17:32:00.000-07:00

I forgot to tell you about my most recent creation (the most recent Little Grass at Sunrise post reminded me!). So here he is.

Introducing...Silly Bird...

And, just in case you didn't get the full effect of the hair, here's one more shot...(can you tell I'm pleased with myself?)
Amazingly, Jaya actually seems to like it too! Phew!

Letting it go

2010-04-08T15:52:00.001-07:00

The cherry tree is blooming, Jaya is climbing, the wind is howling, the days are getting longer, and we're all sleeping better. Spring is upon us.

With only a few weeks to go before our big Europe trip (UK and Holland), we've got lots of organizing, shopping, and planning to do. We're putting a lot of faith into our various gadgets - white noise machine, hook-on high chair, baby sleeping tent, etc. etc.... - to get us through the upheaval, but I'm really not sure what to expect from a vacation with baby.

Besides the buying of new shoes, the much belated dentist appointments, the hair cuts, etc. I think what we really need to be doing in preparation is letting go. Letting go of trying to do as much as possible every day, letting go of late nights in the pub, letting go of long sightseeing drives, but most of all, and somewhat ironically, letting go of going with the flow. Well, at least any flow that isn't Jaya's. So, while we can't plan for what will be, we'll also have to be careful not to plan against it. If that makes any sense.

Anyway, here's to finding the flow and letting it go...!

Oh the sleep we would sleep!

2010-03-11T19:43:00.000-08:00

So, we're sleep training.

Phew, that's a loaded sentence. There is so much wrapped up in this, our first intentional parenting experience. Up until now, our parenting has had everything to do with responding to the moment - changing a dirty diaper, now; feeding a hungry baby, now; putting a hat on a cold head, now; taking a hat off a hot head, now...And so far, our approach to sleep has been pretty much the same. As in, the baby is not sleeping, so what do we do now? And as it turns out, that's not actually working.

Well, let me clarify working. We are not getting sleep, any of us. We are tired, all of us. We are cranky, all of us. We need things to change.

So, we've hired a sleep consultant, Dawn Whittaker, who has made us a sleep plan and sent us out to tame the wild beast (sleep, not Jaya, although, sometimes I wonder...)

Aside from the details of the plan - which I'll spare you - I have found the process a revealing and challenging one, both personally and socially (for lack of a better word). There is such a range of opinions on the matter, and since most people don't see it as a matter of opinion, it's tricky water to tread. On the one hand, we know one couple who went with the Ferber method...which meant they let their child cry in his crib for three hours the first night, two hours the second, one the third and then that was that. When they say "it worked", I wonder what their measure of success was. On the other hand, someone else we know still sleeps in the same room as her 12 year old son. How's that for a range?

And how do we decide where we want to be? How much is the crying "natural"? How much does it mean we're breaking our child's heart? Are we teaching him a necessary skill or is the lesson really that he can't trust us to meet his needs?

No one I know has the same experience with sleep as anyone else I know. And the stories keep changing, because that's what kids do. We are the only ones I know personally who have paid someone else to help them and that's hard in itself. In a way, I feel like I've failed. And in another way, it just makes sense to use the expertise of someone who's seen it all before.

And so, here we are, night six of a 21 day plan. We're sleeping separately and out of the room we all share until we've shaken the sleeping-squished-in-one-bed habit. I do nap times, and Kelsey bears the brunt of the nights until we've shaken the nursing-all-night habit. And the strain is starting to show for Papa. Fortunately, I'm getting more sleep than I have in about a year (six - only slightly broken - hours last night!), so I can be the calm one for a change. At least until nap time...

Change a'coming

2010-02-22T09:49:00.001-08:00

One the biggest challenges for me in this new life of mine - the one where I'm a wife and mother and how the heck did that happen? - is learning an entirely new set of coping skills.

It used to be that when the world outside got too much for me, I would shut the door, pour a glass of wine, move all my furniture around, run a bath, or settle in with a good book. Or, if the world inside got too much for me, I would open the door and head out to find a party.

Now, in this new life, which includes renovations and two separate houses to maintain, the doors that still close don't actually have frames, so there's not much point. The wine still gets drunk, but with significant restraint and a good dose of guilt. The bath, when it's had, includes a small child who may or may not have peed in the water. And the book is read in one page increments while brushing teeth. And the party? Well, I imagine it's out there, somewhere, and I bet it's fun, but it's way past my bedtime.

So, how do I cope now? Well, that's the thing of it. While my old strategies are long gone, the new ones are slow in developing. Where Before, I would have stayed up all night to get this disaster of a house in some kind of order, I Now turn the lights off in rooms I don't want to look at. This is not a long term plan. So today I have decided that something needs to change. I'm not entirely sure what (although I have some ideas), and I'll have to consult my husband, since he lives here too and all, and I might need a little childcare to make it happen, but something, something is going to change.

Thank you for being mine

2010-02-14T22:22:00.000-08:00

Happy valentines to all my lovelies far and wide. May love and lust be yours.

Also, a little video I made for Kelsey can be viewed at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-Vpq6B3RiWE

Proof

2010-02-11T13:59:00.000-08:00

Just a short post, with video, to show off our little crawler... He's increasingly mobile - learning how to pull himself up and how to get down again. Unfortunately, this new development has not had the positive impact on sleep that I had hoped - quite the opposite, even. Nor is he eating any more, so I really don't know where he gets all his energy from. But gets it he does!

Anywhere, here's the video to see for yourself...

A spring in my step

2010-01-27T09:06:00.001-08:00

These days it feels like spring, but there are reminders of winter still. And, I'm sure, at least a few grey days ahead yet. For now, though, some lovely sunshine against the window panes.

We've had many many nights of very little sleep and still, somehow, we're functioning. Lots of new things every day. Jaya is crawling now. He put two and two together and learned the right forward motion last week and since then has been learning what it's all good for. He now easily entertains himself beetling from one object to the next, pulling things down on top of himself and bonking his head repeatedly on the floor. We haven't had a splinter yet, but it's only a matter of time. And so, of course, a new floor is our current distraction. Ah, home ownership.

I am definitely in a springtime mood. Lots of ideas and not nearly enough time. I have yet some christmas presents to complete and send (can I still call them christmas presents?) and then on to all the other possible projects. Food, these days, is one of those. Somehow making food for Jaya feels so much more like a project than just a daily chore. Which is a good thing, I guess. It feels like a unique challenge to me to provide this child with his necessary nutrition. Today I made applesauce and rice pudding with toasted sweet brown rice, ground and boiled. And he liked it. Joy! For me, there was granola made last weekend and already almost depleted. My goal for the next couple months is to get far enough ahead of myself that I can start preparing for the return to work - freezing things, starting good meal planning habits, regular vacuuming. Dream big, I always say...

And that's the report on this January morning. Hope you're all enjoying the air out there...

Embracing Routine

2010-01-14T10:12:00.000-08:00

I love the start of a new year, despite the weather that usually accompanies it, and I'm not ashamed to admit I love resolutions. Not the "will lose weight" kind, but the kind that make me really think about what I want for my life and the year ahead. This year, not surprisingly, I have lots to think about. It will be a year in which Jaya goes from baby blob to active toddler. A year in which we really start to discover his personality and learn ever more about ourselves as parents. It will also be a year, hopefully, of simplifying our lives...or maybe not simplifying...maybe just streamlining. It is my hope, and here I put it in writing, to be living in just one place by the end of the year. Hope, I say, not expectation, since I'm trying to let go of that one, but hope, nonetheless. But back to resolutions that are within my control...

This year, as for the last many, I resolve to Embrace Inconvenience. Every year this is a reminder to myself that the "convenience" of our wealthy western lives comes at a huge cost to the planet and our coinhabitants. So, when I'm sorting through messy recycling or stirring compost in the rain or remembering to walk or straining Jaya's pears or whatever picky little thing I'm doing and feeling crabby about, I try to remember why I'm doing it. And not only that, but Enjoy It. Because I'm also resolved not to spend much time doing stuff I don't enjoy. So, okay, I almost never stir the compost, but if and when I do, I will try to appreciate the exercise, or the smell of wet leaves, or just the pleasure of knowing that big pile of rotting yuckiness will one day feed the garden I will one day get around to growing.

And for this year, I have made a new resolution, that never, in years past, would have occurred to me: Embrace The Routine. I hate routines. I have never had them. Probably the only one I have consistently had in my life is to brush my teeth in the morning and before bed. My morning tea comes close, but it's not every day and sometimes it's coffee. But then along came Jaya. And it turns out that babies, and I'm imagining the same is true for small children, demand routines. I've tried to do without. But on days without a routine I inevitably forget at least one of Jaya's meals, I'm late getting him to a nap, I forget to pump for the reserve bottle, I'm still in my pyjamas at noon, etc, etc. While none of these are devastating once and awhile, they're pretty discouraging day after day. And so, the routine. We're still working on what it will be, and it's an ever evolving thing, but still, there's a structure there that's both foreign and reassuring to this new mum. And this year, I will embrace it. And by embrace, I mean enjoy. There's that word again.

So perhaps all of this can be summed up as : This year I will Enjoy My Life As Much As I Can, As Often As I Can. Amen.

Home Sweet

2009-12-18T13:51:00.000-08:00

Just a short post to report that a warm house with things baking in the oven and three generations merrily preparing for the holidays in their own way (including one cosily napping) is really all one could wish for on a rainy day such as this. Hope you're all finding ways to celebrate each other.

Some Updates

2009-12-07T19:34:00.000-08:00

Made a few changes to the formatting and added a slideshow - so I hope you like it!

I've had cause today, not for any reason except that someone mentioned it, to think about the rapidly upcoming transition from Jaya as a baby to Jaya as a toddler. I don't know when the official change happens, but for me it seems to have something to do with mobility. Since Jaya has been practicing his plank and downward dog for awhile now, and is already schootching himself backward, I'm thinking he may well be crawling soon.

Anyway, it's been interesting today to think about how that's going to feel. Kelsey is certainly looking forward to it as a time for him to have more of an active role. And I am definitely excited about that, as well as just the greatness of every new thing this kid does. But there is a part of me that knows it's going to be hard to watch him take risks with his body and not try to shield him from "danger". I am a far-too cautious person and there are plenty of times I have wished for not only greater courage, but also the kind of body awareness that makes risk taking advisable.

I know a kid who is extremely athletic and comfortable in his own skin and I have no problem letting his climb to the top of the flag pole (which he's done a several occasions the minute I turn around), because I know he's the kind of person who can assess the risk, assess his own abilities and make a measured choice. This is exactly what I wish for Jaya. But being the kind of person who is both unsure of the real risk and untrusting of my own abilities, it's very hard to imagine how to teach these things. Although his dad is much better at that, it's still part of my job too and I realize I need to learn some new things myself as we go along into this. But I guess that's the definition of parenthood, after all...

So much for 100

2009-12-06T21:56:00.000-08:00

Oh well. I've been working on other things, so that's how it goes. And here, finally are a couple of the things I've been working on...

The headboard is a project that took me about 3 months to actually complete, with each step spread out over evenings when Jaya would sleep or afternoons with his papa. It's three old shutters from the ReStore, secured together and painted. Really, not such a complicated project, but there you have it. I have to say it looks better in real life...I really do need a better flash for my camera...

And the Happy Birthday Banner is my new favourite craft project. I can already think of a million applications, and I already know I'll be lucky if I do even one more...sigh.

Also, I've decided I'm going to add a new column to the right (look that way ---->) highlighting a website I like every once and awhile. I seem to be doing a lot of internet-ing these days, and it's continuously amazing to me what I find out there. So I think I'll share.

And finally, here's a photo from our weekend. Hilarious!

What vertigo will do

2009-11-30T23:00:00.000-08:00

Thursday was lost to a bout of vertigo (neck alignment issues, yuck!), and part of Friday too, but having recovered, I find I am full-er of pep and vigour than I have been in a long time. Finished our headboard, finally (which I promised photos of and cannot deliver tonight...I keep forgetting to take a shot in the daytime), got through a lot of sorting in my upstairs "studio" (I must decide on a good name for this space), and started a fun little gift for samuel wyatt yuen harstone, who is about to turn one year old (will post photos, eventually). I also took possession of a shared serger, learned how to use it, and have started planning christmas gifts galore!

This is a mixed time of year for me. Dad died on December 12th last year and that has changed this season for us all, at least a little bit. But I also love christmas, when I can do it the way I like - which is to make things for people I love, see as many of them as possible, and wear fancy dresses. So on I go, in the spirit of dad in his best moments, trying to remember to enjoy all the many luxuries I have in my possession...a cozy place to sleep, hot tea in the morning, cool whiskey in the evening and lots of family and friends in between.

Speaking of whom, I have posted some new photos, finally, on flikr. The style page boasts a shot of a new sweater (thanks Annabelle!), the village page shows some new (and old) visitors, and the faces page includes some of his maturing visage...enjoy!

Busy but good

2009-11-30T01:08:00.000-08:00

Busy weekend, very satisfying. Photos to follow. (only 7 words, I know, but way past time for bed...!)

Grandmas to the rescue

2009-11-25T22:25:00.001-08:00

After a night of very little sleep and a day spent wandering around in the rain waiting for a repair to our van that never happened, I should be exhausted and grumpy. And yes, I am exhausted, but thanks to two wonderful grandmas, not so grumpy. They granted me three whole hours of sleep, whisking Jaya away for some shopping, then brought home dinner, left me a car to get to Bellingham in and took the dog so I don't have to worry about walking her for the next few days. Now that's something to be grateful for, this evening before American thanksgiving.

So tonight, a little blessing for grandmas everywhere. Praise be for your tending, tea-making, tidying, and treasuring.

Such luck

2009-11-24T22:55:00.000-08:00

On my own tonight, I think I am especially aware of the enormous change this child has brought into my life. I am sitting in the living room where I have sat so many nights, on my own, with others, early and late. And yet, everything is different because he is here.

Some days, most days actually, it's a leap of faith to realize that the tiny child asleep in our bed is someone we created. Someone we are responsible for, and to, for the rest of our lives.

When he cries, and I have to stop what I'm doing to comfort, it's annoying or exhausting or at the very least emotionally draining, and then, when he's comforted and his little face relaxes and his head nods back on my arm, the drool running down his chin and the smile flickering in sleep, it really is like love overtakes my heart and makes it stop just for a moment, in awe perhaps, at how much feeling it is possible to have. And that is the warm thought I take with me to sleep tonight.

Eventually, the second one hundred (or thereabouts)

2009-11-23T22:40:00.000-08:00

Well, so much for hundred words a day. We have had a blip in the sleep schedule, and it seemed wiser to catch what rest I could than to write about my lack of it. So a break was necessary.

And now I find I am having trouble knowing what I want to write about anyway. I am writing sentences, deleting them, writing others, and deleting those. Much like my rare moments of "free time" these days, I have stored up so much for these few minutes, I can't sort out which ones I want to unpack first and end up tumbling around unproductively for the duration. I think tonight is just the warm up, then, getting me here again, and hoping to bring me back tomorrow. Oh, and I have photos to upload - another task for tomorrow...but here's one in the meantime, anyway...our pumpkin at four months...

The first one hundred

2009-11-16T21:53:00.000-08:00

So, it turns out that Jaya is still sensitive to dairy.

I ventured into the world of milk-based products this weekend (oh, cheese, how I have missed you) and was last night roundly thumped for it by two tiny yet persistently gassy feet. And today's bedtime was about an hour and half delayed by an upset tummy and a subsequently squirmy kid. I am still optimistic about a relatively smooth night ahead, but with little foundation in reality. Yet more proof that parenthood can be defined as leaving behind the joys of one's adulthood for less predictable (and sometimes less tasty) wanderings.

As I was writing this, Jaya woke for his regular 1 hour post-bedtime fuss and when I went in to settle him, Kelsey, who is sleeping beside him said, "he just had a giant fart", and I said, "oh good, well done!". Yes, these are indeed strange times...

A long deep breath

2009-11-15T23:01:00.000-08:00

First off, I can't figure out how to respond to comments people make to postings, so let me just say, thanks to those of you who have commented, and especially thanks to sara t. for reminding me to get back to it.

My excuse, predictably enough, is lack of sleep. Jaya was on a strict schedule of staying up later and later, culminating in a 1:30 am bedtime that put the kibosh (is that how you spell that?) on my "after bedtime me-time". We have now, and actually, with surprising ease, found a bedtime rhythm that seems to work for all of us. Of course, now that I have committed my pleasure with this rhythm to writing, it will change. But for tonight, we still have an 8pm bedtime that allows me and us a little bit of time for being adults. Which means it's time to get back to writing.

Inspired by some great writing ("Away We Go" is hilarious and you should see it if you haven't, also "Middlesex" is a great story and you should read it if you haven't), the fact that this month is Novel Writing Month (during which writers attempt to write a novel in a month...which I am not doing, by the way, and you probably shouldn't either), and an old english teacher of mine who used to make us write 250 word stories using ten obscure words (thanks Ms. Bevis), I am going to commit to writing 100 words a day. I'll share them here, I'll write more if I have time, and I won't worry too much about what words they are. But there will be at least 100 of them every day, at least until the next unscheduled interruption...starting tomorrow...

Reflections in the bathroom mirror, Part II

2009-10-10T23:08:00.000-07:00

Upon further reflection (and conversation with others), I realize there's at least one element to my last musings that I missed. And that's the idea of the village.

We always talk about the power of the village in raising a healthy child (and really, supporting a healthy human being of any age). And now, rereading my last post, I notice even more how much that matters. I do think it's impossible to really understand the experience of parenting from inside without being, well, inside. But I think the "culture shock" is probably considerably less for those who have grown up within a culture of shared familial roles. It's strange to say, because I feel like I've had access to a wonderful and supportive community of people of all different ages throughout my life. But I'm more conscious now of the even greater empathetic value of more "traditional" community relationships built around raising a child as a member of a group - not just the product of two parents. Without romanticizing the demands and sacrifices of those who share the parenting role out of necessity (in defense against poverty, disease, misappropriated resources, etc), I think something vital is being lost in the more "modern" model of the "family unit". This is all sounding very academic, but it's the words, not the idea, that's bookish.

Yesterday morning, I was sitting in bed with Jaya, playing and laughing with him. It was fun, but it was also a little lonely, and I thought about how much less lonely it would be to spend my mornings in a circle of women, all playing with their babies and talking with each other too. I don't know where this thinking will lead me, and I don't think there's a radical commune in my future, but I feel like it's as good a time as any to imagine other realities...

Reflections in the bathroom mirror

2009-10-08T23:30:00.000-07:00

I was in the shower this evening - my first in four days - and I was thinking, as I do so often these days, about the profound changes that parenthood has brought upon me. Case in point, it was my first shower in four days.

And, as always when I start thinking about this sort of thing, I paused to wonder at how, at any given moment, there are women becoming mothers all over the world. And, as always when I start thinking about this sort of thing, I thought about how completely baffling it all is. How is it that women all over the world, all the time, are going through this profound life change and I, a reasonably well read, well traveled, well connected woman, within a strong community of women, am so unfamiliar with this experience that is, while somewhat unique, entirely common? Put another way, how did I not know this is what it would feel like? How have I been walking around my whole life, smiling at mothers in the street with their cute kids, having dinner at friends' houses while their cute kids run around screaming, even babysitting small cute cousins, without seeing or at least sensing the complete and total transformation their adults are undergoing. The oblivion I was in was so immense. And so lovely.

I suppose I realize there's no way for us to really know an experience like this until we're in it. And perhaps, as in the case of childbirth itself, that's all for the best. But I continue to be in awe of the company I keep - the women who have come here before me, and those who are still to plunge - of our insane courage on the shores of own vast ignorance and our blind faith in the joy that lies, indeed, just beneath the surface of these mad waters.

Phew!

2009-10-05T21:44:00.001-07:00

It's been awhile and I feel like the days have been very full. Activities, projects, errands, and the like. I've also had a couple of thought-provoking moments over the last week and they are continuing to give me pause, so I thought I'd write about one of them tonight.

This is the realization that I have not yet actually accepted responsibility for my "new job". While one hand is holding Jaya and changing Jaya and feeding Jaya, etc., the other hand is still checking email, building shelves, keeping up with the news of the day. While none of these things is inherently wrong - and I have lots to say about trying to find the balance between "him" and "me" - I have realized this week that I'm simply not parenting in the present. And I don't like how that feels. I realize that as much as I have felt overwhelmed by this new role I have to play, I need to step into it even more fully if it's really going to work. For me, I think that means less emailing, (even) less cleaning, and less keeping up the daily tasks I think I should be doing, and more playing, chatting and laughing with my baby. More, let's be honest, sitting around talking nonsense.

This is much harder for me that I expected it would be. I feel like I am bursting at the seams with projects I want to get to and it's incredibly difficult to step back from those, both real and potential, and still feel "useful". I am trying to trust that I will be able to get back to them, to me, in time. But I am more and more certain that I need to let them go first.

So the lesson is to believe for myself what I would tell any other new mum. That motherhood is valuable. That days spent endlessly feeding and changing and gurgling and imitating and talking in a small high pitched voice, are not just days gone. They are investments, like a really good day at school or at work, in my child's brain, in my relationship with him, in my own self-knowledge. I'm even being paid for this, because Canadians believe this job has worth. And so it's time to take responsibility, to show up for work with energy and enthusiasm, and to trust all those wonderful projects will be waiting for me when I, when we, are ready.

Growing Goodness

2009-09-23T23:58:00.000-07:00

It's late, but I'm determined to write something. I've been working on a little multimedia presentation for the Farmer's Market Nutrition Coupon project that I've been helping to evaluate for the last couple of years. I took it on to help out and now it's midnight and I've just barely made a dent. But still, it's fun to get to do something other than mum. I'll post a link to the "story" when it's done. Until then, let me just say that small children discovering fresh fruit are very cute.

Goodnight.

Cherry Watches Her First Operation, Move 2 Squares

2009-09-20T23:30:00.000-07:00

This weekend I bought:

a few yards of fake leather
a long roll of "fabric" that is dark blue vinyl on one side and royal blue fuzz on the other
a "Nurse Cherry Ames" board game from the 50's
three old glass bottles
a foot long toy greyhound bus with all its paint
a melodihorn that mostly works
a vintage black bakelite plastic viewmaster with personal photos of someone's trip to Hawaii in the 50's

Now, I just have to decide what I'm going to do with all this stuff. Jaya gets the bus, of course. And Emma may get the melodihorn, if she promises to play me songs on it. What I'm really curious about is what the blue fuzzy stuff will get to be...

I'm determined to make something this week. Hopefully involving felt. Will report back...

2009-09-18T23:21:00.000-07:00

I was walking with Jaya and the dogs this morning and a woman across the street called out to me "I love your family". It was a odd moment, but also very sweet. What a nice thing to think and to share with someone when you're walking down the street in the morning.

Later this morning, a friend pointed out how, when you're out with a baby, you don't get to be anonymous. It's true - and a wonderful way to engage with people - but it makes me think about all the times we are anonymous in the city. I often think, when I see someone struggling in their minds or bodies on the street, about how once they were someone's baby and people looked at them and thought they were cute or sweet or something nice. And now, we walk past them. And I think about what happens in people's lives that takes them from one place to the other. And, of course, I think about my baby and what will happen to him and what he will become. I know we're giving him gifts that very few people get - having to do with love but also having to do with wealth and circumstances we can take no credit for - and I know that accounts for a great deal. But there is also luck and choice and life that intervenes. So tonight I am thinking about blessings and hoping for a few for Jaya, and all the other babies who are sleeping and waking tonight.

Just a few words

2009-09-16T22:55:00.000-07:00

Heard a piece on CBC today about the Disappeared in Argentina. The man being interviewed, a journalist who was working there at the time and who was one of the few people reporting on what was happening, talked about how he felt it was the media's responsibility to report on what is happening around them, no matter how difficult. He said he felt that, in Argentina, even though people could see what was happening right in front of them...neighbours going missing, men with machine guns walking down the street and abducting people in broad daylight...they could pretend it wasn't happening because no one was talking about it.

Imagine. You might be standing beside someone who is suddenly taken and you might say to the person across from you, "hey, did you see that!", and they say, out of fear and disbelief perhaps, "no, I don't know what you're talking about", and you think, oh, okay, maybe I didn't either, or maybe it doesn't matter, because if you didn't you'd have to do something about it and since no one else is doing anything about it, maybe you don't have to either.

I think that's a fascinating perspective on human being-ness that's worth thinking about.

I haven't forgotten I wanted to share some projects, but it's going to have to wait until I'm less about to fall asleep. In the meantime, here's a "before" shot...

Today I vaccumed

2009-09-15T20:38:00.000-07:00

And this evening I am working on knowing that that is enough.

It's easy to say to a new mum, "sleep when the baby sleeps" and "don't worry about housework" - I'm quite sure I'll say it to the next new mum I meet - but the reality...the baby only sleeps when you're out and not worrying about the housework leads to depression and tumbleweed sized fur balls that will kill you as soon as look at you...renders this well meaning advice, well, meaningless.

And yes, Jaya is (finally) sleeping and so yes, I should be sleeping too, but a few minutes at the end of the day has become my saving grace. Instead, I am sitting here looking at my relatively fur free floor, sipping a bit of wine, and reminding myself that this is the most important job I've ever done. If a few other things, like dishes or thank you cards (sorry every friend we ever had), get neglected while I try to figure it out, then so be it.

I think the advice I should really give to the next new mum I meet is this: Forget about a room of your own. Even if you have one, forget about sleeping in it, keeping it clean or even getting in the door most days. But make sure you find a little bit of time of your own. Twenty minutes will do, but an hour is better. Every day. It's important. And if you have a little time left over you can choose between sleeping and cleaning. Both are good.

Tomorrow, I think, I will start sharing some of the projects we're working on...there's one involving drawers and coat hangers that I'm very excited about. And maybe talking about it will help get it done. I can always dream...

Monday, Monday

2009-09-14T13:35:00.000-07:00

Jaya has a cold, it's probably going to rain on the porch roof that Kelsey dismantled and only partially rebuilt on the weekend, and our house looks like every "before" picture you've ever seen all mashed into one and not an "after" in sight...but otherwise, it's a beautiful day.

Put another way, Jaya is currently sleeping, it's not raining yet, and there are so many delicious projects for me to do...really, it's a surplus of riches.

Oh wait, I take that back, Jaya's not sleeping anymore. And that, folks, is the end of today's post...

s.

oh well.

2009-09-13T09:48:00.001-07:00

So, it's not that I exactly forgot. To write every day, I mean. Well, on the first day I kind of forgot, and when I remembered, we were in the car, and then when we weren't in the car anymore, I forgot again. On the second day, I mostly didn't forget, but it was a fussy kind of day and I didn't even have one hand most of the time. Then I stayed up after the boys went to bed to catch up on email and facebook and the like, and forgot. When I finally remembered, I had just sent the computer off to do a bunch of updates and the opportunity was lost.

Phew, how's that for an excuse?!

Anyway, now it's the third day and I'm typing with one (left) hand, but at least I'm typing!

And I thought I would share a recipe today. I'm not much of a recipe person myself, I just don't have the discipline, but I usually start with something that looks yummy and follow the basic principles. So, however you cook, here's something yummy to try...

Quick and Easy Nut Sauce

(Adapted from Recipezaar's Peanut Sauce)

6 tablespoons nut butter (I've tried almond and peanut, both are yummy!)
3 tablespoons seasoned rice vinegar
4 teaspoons tamari
2 teaspoon maple syrup
1 small garlic clove, minced
1/3 cup water
2 tablespoons chopped fresh cilantro
lime to taste

Combine all ingredients except cilantro and blend well. Add cilantro before serving. We've had it over veggies and rice and also used it as a dip for pinwheels made with soft tortillas, rice, yam and veggies...

Hope you like it!

Catching up

2009-09-10T17:01:00.001-07:00

It's an odd thing how having "nothing to do" ensures you get nothing done.

I have just bought myself a little book in which to write an ongoing list of things I want to get done (I know I have a little empty book just like this somewhere, but finding it is the kind of thing that should be on the list, so...).

My rules for this book are:

1. Only put things on The List that can realistically get crossed off in a reasonable time frame and that I can do myself (no "renovate the kitchen")

2. Only put things on The List that need to be done once (no "walk the dog")

3. No prioritizing - just put it on the list and do it when the mood strikes (if it's really urgent, do it today, don't put it on The List)

4. No feeling bad that I haven't done it yet (put it on The List and it will, eventually, I hope, possibly get done)

5. Start doing the things that are on The List, even if it's slowly and with one hand

7. Every time a whole page of things gets done (that's 14 things, in case you were wondering), celebrate. Take myself out for a beer, have a bath, nap, whatever. Just celebrate.

6. And of course, if it's not on The List, and I've just done it, put it on The List and cross it off.

And that's what I did today.

Something that is not in the book, because it doesn't qualify, is to write here more often. I think the routine of daily writing might be something I need these days, so I'm going to try. I suspect things may get boring fast, so consider yourself warned.

Oh also, there are new photos. Here's one, the others are on flikr...

See you tomorrow!

Seven in one go!

2009-08-20T08:36:00.000-07:00

Not flies - hours...of sleep that is! A glorious seven hours of sleep (not entirely uninterrupted, since I woke up automatically a couple of times and made sure he was still okay, but still...seven hours!)

And now he's sleeping again, all curled up in his "sportosaurus" onesie (a dinosaur playing footie) on my lap. I'd say in the third month things have officially moved from the what-the-hell-is-this stage to the this-is-pretty-cute stage.

Not sure what we'll get up today, but Jaya may be attending his first ever country fair. Mini donuts here we come!

Listening to Whales

2009-08-10T22:42:00.000-07:00

On CBC today there was a piece about how whales communicate. It proposed, among other things, that each species learns within the parameters of its own language and may, in fact, become unable to hear a sound that falls outside the learned boundaries of its auditory world, despite a physical ability to register that pitch and tempo. Spending time with Jaya, as he makes new sounds every day, and begins to listen with ever increasing awareness to the sounds I make, I find this idea particularly arresting.

If it's true that we are only able to hear that which we have learned to hear, then our childhood is actually spent learning not to listen. In many ways, it makes sense that this would be so. I suspect our brains, though ridiculous large and underutilized, would be overwhelmed by the demands of processing every sound that exists. Evolutionarily speaking, it's likely those who "overhear" are more likely to be fatally distracted or incapacitated by auditory overload. Maybe this is what "crazy" is all about. There's a Raymond Bradbury story about this...but I digress...

Still, I like the idea that a child might have, and keep, different ways of listening than the ones us adults are accustomed to. Might, for example, be able to hear the communication of whales, not as blunt bellows or barks, and not in a Dr. Doolittle-esque translation, but with the subtlety of any language fully known by its speakers.

I, of course, am not the one to teach this thing I cannot know, but perhaps there are ways I can avoid teaching Jaya how not to hear. I will have to think on this...

Kicking Kid (and more photos)

2009-07-23T09:16:00.000-07:00

In an effort to relieve the gas (or so I suppose), Jaya kicks his little legs...pretty much constantly. Okay, not actually constantly, but what feels like constantly. And since he doesn't much like being put down, like, ever, that means he's constantly kicking me.

Hmmm...why does that feel familiar? Oh yeah, because he was doing the same thing from the inside for about the last five months. I'm trying not to see a pattern here, but it's hard to avoid.

I had no idea how appropriate the title of this blog was until just now.

Apparently Tina Fey referred to the first year of her experience as a mother as being "hit in the face with a hammer every day". I would revise her statement to this: Motherhood is like getting kicked in the shins by a minature pony, repeatedly, and without provocation, every day. (I should say that although everyone is supposed to like minature ponies, I don't, so I don't care if I'm being unfair, to minature ponies).

For those of you who are seasoned parents (and particularly, perhaps, my mother), you may laugh at my realization this week that motherhood is all about being knocked around. Happily, Tina notes, it gets better. At present, Jaya has consented to sleep beside my lap, as opposed to on it, and he's looking super cute all wrapped up in the sling I have so carefully peeled away from my body in order to be able to reach the keyboard. He is only kicking sporadically, and is, in fact, occasionally laughing in his sleep. Which is really super cute.

Speaking of which, there are more photos to be seen on Flickr...(see sidebar)...and if you're a total photo junkie, you can always sign up to be a "follower" of the blog for regular updates...

What babies know

2009-07-01T13:51:00.000-07:00

Today we had proof (if we needed it) that babies do not, in fact, know where they begin and end. I was sitting with Jaya on the floor letting him air dry before putting on a new diaper, when all of a sudden he began to scream. Picking him up, I realized that his had nothing to do with me poking his bellybutton. Instead, it was directly related to the fact that he had a big chunk of his own hair clenched tightly in his fist and was pulling on it as hard as he could. The more he screamed, the more he pulled. I can only imagine he was thinking, in some abstract baby way, that this would make it better. Which of course, it didn't.

Perhaps this is a lesson we could all learn from. If you have been having your hair pulled lately, take a minute to unclench your fist and see if that helps. You just never know what you'll learn from babies...

New Photos!

2009-06-30T11:03:00.001-07:00

New photos in new folder and old. Will write more when I have the use of both hands...

Photos!

2009-06-22T15:27:00.000-07:00

We've posted photos on flickr (see sidebar)! Let us know if you have some too!

“If your birthday is today, take care that in your haste to get ahead in the world you don’t make an enemy of someone whose support you will need.”

2009-06-21T10:25:00.000-07:00

We all get born. It happens to the best of us. It happens to the worst of us. If we're here, or were here, it happened. Some birth stories are stunningly beautiful, some are terrifying. As much as we tried not to have expectations, we did hope ours would be memorable. And indeed it was.

It all started around 2am on Sunday the 14th. I was having a dream that Sara and Michael, our friends and parents of three boys, were telling me what a contraction felt like. In the dream, this involved me experiencing what they were saying and I was getting very annoyed with them because it hurt. This, of course, is when I woke up and realized I was in early labour.

At this point I woke Kelsey and made him do the dishes. Then we had a shot of scotch and tried to sleep. At around 8am, I decided to have a warm bath, which slowed, and then stopped the contractions. From 10:30am to 7:30pm we napped, walked, made jam, made bread, and waited.

Finally, the contractions started again – this time with definite frequency and strength. I laboured through the evening and night, with a few five minute naps between contractions. Kasari stayed with us to take photos and help keep us both going. Her energy was amazing and it was fantastic to have her there. Early in the morning, our doula Kate also joined us – bringing with her an incredible bag of labouring tricks that really did get me through some of the more difficult moments (if you’ve never had a pool noodle rolled across your back after a contraction, you haven’t lived) .

At about 6am, our midwife Camille gracefully informed us that although my cervix was fully effaced (thinned), I was at only 1cm dilation. Still, she let me get in the pool, which felt like a day at the spa at this point. I remember opening my eyes a few minutes after getting in and feeling like it was the first time I had actually looked at anyone all night. Another five hours were spent there.

At around noon, our second midwife, Kelly, joined us. After a check, she presented us with the heartening news that I was fully effaced (thanks, we knew that five hours ago), contractions were strong (you think?), but I was still only 1cm dilated. This is when I cried. Or maybe it was when she told me I had to get out of the pool and start doing squats.

The next six hours were spent cajoling, bribing and tricking me into the positions I most wanted to avoid. At the end of which Kelly returned to check dilation once more. And then, still at one centimetre. off we went to the hospital. Once there, things moved pretty quickly. Since I was so far away from full dilation, and so damn tired, I opted for an epidural – thinking that we might still manage a vaginal birth. Once doped – and let me tell you that was truly as unpleasant an experience as you might imagine having a four inch needle stuck in your spine would be – they broke my waters and waited to see what would happen. Along with a dramatic spike in the force of the contractions (of which I was blissfully unaware, except to watch on the monitor), the baby’s heart rate started to respond negatively and it quickly became apparent that we were headed to a c-section. Although this was not at all the birth plan we had in mind, we felt we were getting all the information and given as many options as there were. In the end it was a pretty easy decision to make. From there, the whole thing took about an hour – ten minutes to prep me for surgery, ten minutes to pull the baby out and another half hour to stitch me up. An amazing process! Kelsey was able to be there with me and watched over the curtain as Jaya emerged. The doctors were wonderful – each of them introducing themselves and telling us bits of what was happening.

It was quite surreal meeting our baby in what seemed to be a blur of blue hospital gowns and bright lights – a far cry from our plan of candles and piano music in our own living room – but also extremely wonderful that we had the option to bring him so safely into the world. We are so grateful to Children’s and Women’s Hospital for their baby-friendly approach to birthing and for everyone who helped get Jaya “ahead in the world”.

Day After the Due Date

2009-06-08T10:07:00.000-07:00

So, it's the day after the big due date, which of course means nothing, but still leaves me sitting here on the couch, wondering what to do now.

I'm thinking about re-covering the tacky cushions that came with our "glider". Or maybe making another felt rattle. Or maybe doing some cooking. What I'd really like to do is get at some of the bigger jobs like restocking our bookshelves, moving in to my studio upstairs or hacking up the concrete in the backyard, but since I can't actually pick up more than a kitchen chair, I'm a bit limited. Perhaps I'll walk a few blocks before the day's gravity kicks in and turns my waddle into a limp.

I just saw a video of Vancouver's newest baby beluga being born...I must say, Aurora makes it look easy. Of course, she was pregnant for 15 months, so I guess I should be careful what I wish for. For a little inspiration to all those pregnant and not, here's the video (see audio/video section on the right): http://www.cbc.ca/news/.

Giving Money Away

2009-06-05T12:26:00.000-07:00

So, apparently, giving money away is addictive. It's also kind of embarrassing, 'cause you end up feeling so good about yourself, you start to wonder if you've managed to make it all about you again. Which of course, in a way, you have.

In an effort to stay off my feet and not get bored, I have been spending a fair amount of time checking out websites I've been saving to read and randomly following links that look interesting. Yesterday, this aimless endeavor took me to this site:

http://www.globalrichlist.com/

Turns out, as a family, we are obscenely rich. I started to feel sick. Then I remembered that we have a bank account full of money that was given to us by our wedding guests to do something good with. Just sitting there. Did I mention feeling sick? So, before I threw up in disgust, I decided to start spending it. As planned, we are using the money to support micro-credit loans through www.Kiva.org, a non-profit that supports entrepreneurs across the developing world.

Everyone has different ways of giving, and I don't want to push mine, but I do have to say that sitting in my house, learning about someone who needs a $450 loan to buy ingredients to expand their bakery business in Togo, and being able to contribute to that, is pretty crazy satisfying. I think my favourite thing is how the balance of power isn't all about handing out and standing back. They get to read about me, I get to read about them. They have a specific financial need and I have a specific financial surplus. When the "transaction" is complete and the loan repaid, they get to move on to new ventures with greater financial security and as part of a community that is made stronger by the investment, and I get to move on to new ventures as part of a community of lenders and with new ties to a part of the world I may never get to know otherwise. It's just really great.

Anyway, if you're sitting on a little bit of extra money, or even if you aren't right now, but might be sometime, think about micro-credit lending as a possibility. You, too, could feel embarasingly good about yourself.

Who do I think I am?

2009-06-03T10:55:00.000-07:00

I have been meaning to write more often, but I've been distracted by the rebuilding of my website. It's been an interesting exercise, pulling myself together in one place. And as I went through the "final" version this morning, I realized that my online life may come across somewhat differently than my lived one. And this is making me think about which one I want to be real...

One of the things I hope to do in this first year of "mumming" is to try and reconnect with the making part of me. I'm under no illusion that I will have lots of time for crafting, but I also have no doubt that every day will be about learning and discovering. And I feel that, whoever this kid turns out to be, she or he deserves to be surrounded by curiosity.

To this end, I've been reading other people's blogs, planning the layout of my new little room with a view (the one upstairs that will be my "studio"....ooo, I can't believe I'm going to have a studio!), and getting a few small projects done while I wait for the big one to finish growing and decide to come meet us. I feel like there's more to talk about though, in terms of how we all balance our work and our love, our days and our nights - our hearts and our minds, I guess. I would love to hear from you (if anyone is out there) about how you do this, or how you don't, or how you'd like to.

Also, check out this film: http://www.whodoesshethinksheis.net/ - I haven't seen it yet, but it sounds like I should!

My Year of Living Domestically...

2009-05-29T15:34:00.000-07:00

...starts now!

Well, actually, it started yesterday. I dropped off my binder of stuff to pass to my replacement and my copy of the office key, and that was that. A whole year of not working stretches before me. Well, you know, a whole year of not working at a "job". I live in a damn good country, with a great job that lets me leave for a year and pays me to do it. I am a lucky, lucky woman. And I hope to spend my year remembering that.

With my new found spare time, I've been reading "crafty mama" blogs (yes, there is a genre out there, and believe me, it's not small). They are inspiring and also kind of sickening, but I'm trying to stick with the inspiration. Did you ever think about making your own dog leash? Well, someone out there has... For my part, I am making some felt rattle toys and thinking about a bib.

As for the belly, it's moving and growing but showing no distinct signs of labouring just yet. The sun is shining and there's cleaning to be done, so I'm okay with a bit more waiting. Besides, I have toys to make...

Even despite the stretch marks

2009-05-19T12:38:00.000-07:00

As I near the conclusion of my membership in the club of pregnant women, I am reflecting on what a privileged club it is. I mean, who doesn't love a pregnant woman? Strangers tell you how good you look. People actually do get up to give you a seat on the bus (at least, when you're as huge as I am at this point). Tough guys in gangsta cars give you the thumbs up when they see you wadling along the street. Everyone smiles at you.

I know there's another club waiting for me on the other side of this one - although I suspect the price of membership is a little messier (projectile vomiting and colic come to mind) - so I'm not complaining. It's just that I think I will miss the lovely percolation of these last nine months, as I wait for my life to change.

I am now almost unable to put my own shoes on (I can't even remember the last time I tied them), I can't sleep at night for more than a couple of hours without having to get up to pee or eat, and I need to sit down every half hour or so during the day, but, let's face it, I also have the best excuse in the world.... the excuse to make someone else clean the bathtub, the excuse to nap, the excuse to fart at will.

In a few days or weeks, I will be back to myself. A different self, I suspect, but still, an adult with responsibilities and expectations to fulfill. My full belly will no longer be a public beauty. I will, I am fairly certain and despite my best intentions, measure my body in inches instead of how good I feel today. When strangers come towards me with smiles on their faces, it will be for my baby, and not so much for me. This is how it should be. But still, I will miss the secret handshake of the pregnant belly club and the rare invitation to celebrate the skin I'm in.

Lucky and Blessed

2009-05-13T23:30:00.000-07:00

This is just to say, that if you have the chance to be celebrated by a group of friends who have known you since you were 12, take it. There's nothing to compare it to. I have been given labyrinths, stones, candles, poetry and picture books, but more, I have been given five pairs of hands to hold in that inevitable moment when I don't think I can push even one more time.

Thank you.

Looks like I'm back

2009-05-12T08:57:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, Kathy (my friend and colleague who is always looking out for me), made me promise to do something for her. She said, "every morning, I want you to wake up and meditate on the idea that today could be the day". By "the day", she means the day I go into labour with my first child.

So, it's Tuesday, less than four weeks before my due date, and although I had to get up quickly to let the drywallers in (we're living in a construction zone), I did spend a little time with that idea this morning. Somewhere in all of that I've decided to start writing a blog again. So here I am, with a slightly new name, a new format (thanks blogspot!), and, I'm hoping, some new things to say. I'm not sure this is what Kathy had in mind, but since I can't do anything about the chaos around me, I'm thinking a little writing might help organize the chaos within. Or at least get it out in the open to breath a little air.

Nothing. Na Da. Zip

2006-03-09T10:42:00.000-08:00

Someone pointed out to me yesterday that I was still in Toronto on the subway and maybe it was time to get off. I wondered why I was feeling not quite here...

And I suppose that's as good a subject as any. Being here. Being

Here.

If you have ever tried to medidate, you will know without a moment's puzzlement why that's a worthy topic of discussion. If you haven't...actually even if you have...take a minute right now. One minute. Sit where you are right now...oh, okay, maybe not right where you are since you're in front of a computer screen. Okay, sit on the floor beneath where you are sitting right now and set your kitchen timer for 60 seconds. Focus your eyes on something about two or three feet ahead of you. Now unfocus. Now think about nothing.

You are thinking about nothing. You are thinking about nothing. You are thinking about thinking about nothing. You are thinking how uncomfortable this cold tile floor is on your bum. You are thinking about breakfast. You are thinking, I should be thinking about nothing. You are thinking about nothing. You are thinking about tht hole in the wall in front of you that a mouse could probably crawl through. You are thinking about remembering to think about nothing. You are thinking about boys. You are thinking about girls. You are thinking about someone naked. No you are not supposed to be thinking about someone wearing nothing. You are supposed to be thinking about nothing. You are thinking about nothing. You are thinking about how its funny how thinking about nothing is really thinking about something just like someone wearing nothing is really something. Something nice. No. Think about nothing. Nothing. No thing. Hey, nothing is really two words. No thing. Isn't it amazing how you can use a word so many millions of times and not really know it. Like someone you've known forever who does something surprising. Wait, what was I supposed to be doing again? What am I doing on the cold floor? Oh right, nothing.

So you see how difficult it is to be just be here. Because that's what medidation is all about. Being so completely in the moment that you're outside of it. I think the idea is to gain some perspective on things. Look at things from a greater distance. Not as in, so far away I don't care about it. But as in, look, I'm a bird, I can fly over my life and see how small and perfect and mine it is.

Not that I'm any great expert. My attempts to medidate are pretty much variations on the above conversation with myself. But I continue to try. Because while I spend a lot of time being in the world, I know I need to get better at being there "now". Or here. now.

Perhaps then I won't end up on an endless Toronto subway with two guys talking about a party they don't want to go to and how cold it is outside. I think this is my stop.

Mid-December on the TTC

2005-12-18T20:46:00.000-08:00

On the subway tonight, two men. Two identical gaps in the upper rows of teeth, displayed in equal grimaces. The conversation is about snow and the likelihood, or lack thereof, that they would be inclined to travel to the island under such conditions. It is not actually all that cold out and the snow has been cleared from the streets and sidewalks – it is more the thought of it upon which the discussion gains ground. There are questions about the nature of the event. How good would it be anyway? There was an invitation, but it was vague and impersonal. And besides, it’s cold. The older of the men makes a face, says “not a chance” and looks away. The conversation, with its matching gaps, is over.

Have a little faith

2005-11-29T17:34:00.000-08:00

For some reason I have had several discussions and/or thoughts about spiritual things in the last few days. It started with Spalding Grey. I was reading his book, Morning Noon and Night (best described, I think, as a lyrical little glimpse into the life of a self-obsessed family man who later, although not over the course of the book, kills himself off the side of a bridge), and he was talking about death.

"Then just the other day I had a hopeful fantasy. What if, when we are dying, instead of our breath stopping, it instead shifts from us into the breath of the Universe. Yes, I suddenly had a peaceful sense that the whole universe was actually breathing and that at our last breath we can, if we choose, breath into it and become one with the great swelling and retracting breath of the universe. I felt almost hopeful...Then in no time I thought, who really wants to become part of an eternal egoless universal energy field? It feels too much like spiritual communism. I couldn't lay that on my son..."

Irony aside, I am actually quite taken with this idea. Being a hindu when it suits me, I very much subscribe to the idea of reincarnation. It's been a long time since I took my degree in Religious Studies, so I won't pretend to know what other people mean by that multi-syllabic concept, but to me it means something to do with the way energy moves around. It just makes sense that when the flesh stops being something viable, the energy that made it move, moves on. Out through the mouth and into the wind.

And anyway, it makes for a good excuse to go out with some heavy breathing...

Even a bad party

2005-11-18T12:57:00.000-08:00

I was working last night on something for the Geist Postcard contest and in going through old writing found a short little piece I thought I might use. It's a bit too short, however, so instead I'm going to cheat a little for today's post, and try this out on whoever's out there...let me know what you think...

EVEN A BAD PARTY.

I’m his first fare of the day. 4:36am. He leans over the seat with his arm. “Sorry I didn’t slow down earlier”, he says, the residue of German in his voice, “I thought you were one of those girls. Then I noticed you got a bag. They don’t usually have a bag.” He gives me a big smile. Turns back to the changing light. “Where do you want to go?” I give him the address and close my eyes for a moment. The sky is losing its pitch and with the window down I can hear the birds are starting in.

“This is the best time of the day. It’s usually bumper and bumper. This is the only one hour when the city is really asleep.”

“Yup” I say, fighting the lull of the soft car motor. “It’s pretty bad, usually…the traffic”.

He nods, grimacing into the rear view mirror. “Yah. Between you and me” he says, “we know everything.” I look out the window and think about this.

“Good party?” He asks.

“Yeah, it was a good party.”

“Well, yah.” He says, turning onto my street. “Even a bad party is better than a funeral.”

That’s semantics for you

2005-11-16T11:41:00.000-08:00

I had a conversation with a friend the other day about liking big words, and it made me think. One of my greatest frustrations in debate is when someone says, “well, that’s just semantics”. It may be semantics, but when you think about it, semantics is pretty much all we’ve got. If you say that’s a chair and I say it’s a table, one of us is going to have a very messy meal. What we mean may be more important than how we say it, but it doesn’t matter ‘a hill of beans’ (as my grandma would say) unless we are understood to mean what we think we just said.

When I was in university we read a theorist named Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak. She was known for being completely incomprehensibly brilliant. An example:

“What if the two projects of epistemic overhaul worked as dislocated and unacknowledged parts of a vast two-handed engine? Perhaps it is no more than to ask that the subject of the palimpsestic narrative of imperialism be recognized as ‘subjugated knowledge’…”

I wrote a paper in which I argued that it was important for her to write in such an obscure way precisely because the concepts she was writing about had been obscured by the words we had so far tried to use to describe them. Although I think I still agree with myself, when I read the paper now I can’t understand a word of it.

The best thing about pieces of language, the perfect word, is the ability to say something no other word says in exactly the same way.

Take onomatopoeia, for instance. How fabulous that we have a word to describe words that sound like themselves. Or incremental . A word that makes you work at it. Or exquisite. A completely self-indulgent word that sounds like it’s leaking something vaguely obscene from the edges, but still, a good word in the right context.

And, of course, a word doesn’t have to be big to be strong. Take broken, curiosity, rotation, witness, depth, terror, reason, remember, some, bruise, quiet, slippery, burn, wind, tarnish. I could rattle off favourites forever. Some of them have a kind of internal rhythm. Some of them feel really good in your mouth. Some of them feel good to get out. Some of them are sharp, others are squishy. God, I love words. This is probably part of why I find it so hard to learn another language. I’m so smitten with the one I’ve got, it’s hard to make room for another. Well, okay, that probably doesn’t have anything to do with it, but at least, as excuses go, it has some poetry.

So, wait, what was I saying? Basically, that it’s good to be understood but we mustn’t forget that understanding sometimes takes some work. It’s not just about keeping it simple – but paying attention and saying what we mean, even if it does involve a multitude of syllables.

And you, what are your favourite words?

Today's message is about safety

2005-11-14T11:44:00.000-08:00

Today’s message is about safety .

I received an email today from my aunt. The subject was “safety precautions for women” and I decided to scan it quickly before deleting. I would strongly advise both men and women to take a minute to learn the facts.

The first couple points are fairly common sense. Watch where you’re going, look both ways when you’re crossing the street…that sort of thing…

Number three reads: “If you are ever thrown into the trunk of a car, kick out the back tail lights and stick your arm out the hole and start waving like crazy. The driver won't see you, but everybody else will. This has saved lives.”

Even assuming that this email originated in the United States, I am boggled that enough women are getting thrown into the back of a car that this would useful information for the masses. Not that it doesn’t appeal to my worst-case-scenario tendencies…I always wondered what I would do if I were locked in the back of a mobster’s beemer…

Number four: “Women have a tendency to get into their cars after shopping, eating, working, etc., and just sit (doing their checkbook, or making a list, etc.) DON'T DO THIS! The predator will be watching you, and this is the perfect opportunity for him to get in on the passenger side, put a gun to your head, and tell you where to go. AS SOON AS YOU GET INTO YOUR CAR, LOCK THE DOORS AND LEAVE.”

The predator will be watching you. If you have been paying attention, you are now convinced. There is a predator and he is watching you. I guess no one told the 80% of sexual assault victims who were attacked in their home by people they know [Sexual Assault Care Centre: Violence, Myths and Facts of Sexual Assault (1999)] that the “bad man” wasn’t the black stranger flossing his teeth in the Wal-Mart parking lot.

“If you are parked next to a big van, enter your car from the passenger door. Most serial killers attack their victims by pulling them into their vans while the women are attempting to get into their cars.”

There have been 8 convicted serial killers in Canada. In the USA, where the vast majority of serial killers appear to operate, about 65 have been convicted since records were kept, with three or four cases left unsolved. Even if every serial killer in the world drove a van, thinking you’re likely to park next to one should probably be identified as egomania rather than caution.

Number six tells us: “ALWAYS take the elevator instead of the stairs. (Stairwells are horrible places to be alone and the perfect crime spot).” And then, number seven: “If the predator has a gun and you are not under his control, ALWAYS RUN! The predator will only hit you (a running target) 4 in 100 times; and even then, it most likely WILL NOT be a vital organ. RUN!”

So here’s my question. I drive to the mall to avoid dark alleys. I park in the driveway so there’s less distance between me and the front door (ignoring for a moment what goes on behind the closed front doors of North America). I never take the stairs because stairwells are where crime happens. I am probably wearing heels because they make me look sexy while I’m waiting for the elevator. My legs (never mind my brain) have atrophied for lack of use and now I’m supposed to RUN?

And finally, “As women, we are always trying to be sympathetic: STOP. It may get you raped, or killed.”

If there’s a dotted line I signed on to join up for this kind of world, you can take my name off now.

“Fear of violence also limits many women's lives. Forty-two percent of women compared with 10% of men feel "totally unsafe" walking in their own neighbourhood after dark, which in Canadian winters can begin at 3:30 pm, even earlier in the north. [Statistics Canada, Women in Canada: A Statistical Report (1995).] This, despite the fact that, “Canadian, British and U.S. studies indicate that women are at far greater risk of being assaulted by men they know.” [Public Health Agency of Canada website] and “More than half of all reported physical assaults on adult women are by family members, half by their spouses.”[Statistics Canada, Family Violence in Canada]

The email concludes with this final piece of wisdom. “IT IS ALWAYS BETTER TO BE SAFE THAN SORRY. (And better paranoid than dead.)”

Today’s message has been brought to you by fear.

oh my aching teeth!

2005-11-11T10:28:00.000-08:00

This morning, a biologist on the radio is talking about “monkey love”. Apparently, animals generally fall into two categories: the monogamous, mate-for-life category and the polygamous, multiple partner category. These categories, apparently, are represented not only by observable behaviour, but down to the level of genetics…the length of their canine teeth, for example. Now this, I guess, is interesting enough. But here’s the kicker. Humans (because really it’s all about us) display a certifiable confusion about which of the two categories we belong in. Are we really looking for that perfect life partner with whom to build a house and multiply? Or are we happier being with someone (or someones) in a particular moment and then moving on to the next when our needs are met? I guess this explains why so many of our stories are either infested with shining armor or overrun with “promiscuity”. Although it doesn’t explain why it is we limit our guilt to the latter. What about feeling remorse for focusing so much on one person at the expense of other possible romances? What about support groups for monogamists? Why do we not have a derogatory term for “married”? (Although, of course, some might argue that’s it)

Anyway, I thought it was an interesting observation that we are the only species, scientifically speaking, that has not evolved towards any particular mating certainty. This is, in a way, kind of reassuring – it’s no wonder we can’t figure things out when even our molars are confused…

A word on character

2005-11-10T19:13:00.000-08:00

I looked up at about 4pm today and noticed a streak of blue sky disappearing into the impending sunset. A wave of panic seized me as I realized I was about to entirely miss the one moment of sunshine this week. Torn between the need to be productive and the need to be in ocular range of the sun, I decided to sit for awhile in my local coffee shop – yes, it’s still indoors, but the windows are bigger and have a general view of the western sky. I have now been sitting here for about an hour and a half. My decaf coffee is long gone and I keep expecting someone to glare at me, but as I check over my shoulder to see if any of the aproned staff give a shit, I notice another woman who was here when I got here – her laptop plugged in and typing away without a coffee cup in sight. So long as I’m not the only one.

So as for my writing, I have been thinking a lot about characters. Not really how to find them…they’re everywhere…but how to hold on to them and follow them through a piece of their lives. I heard many writers speak on the subject at the writer’s fest this year, and it seemed that most of them were viciously against the idea that a character has a life of its own. I suspect the ones who thought otherwise were cowed into silence by the sheer volume of these opinions, but still, this seemed the majority view. Which, I have to say, does not make it easier to think about these things. I like the idea that a character comes along, states their name and age, and then proceeds to tell me a story. Now that it appears I am the one who has to tell the story, I am altogether cowed.

Oh, I have to interrupt myself to eavesdrop on the conversation in front of me. A guy in his early 30s has been sitting on the couch in front of me for about 10 minutes, clutching a take-out cup of coffee, trying to look relaxed…or at least I think it’s likely, in retrospect, that that is what he was doing, but I wasn’t really paying attention at the time. Then this girl of about the same age walked up from the far door and held out her hand to introduce herself. Any bets that this is not the first date of an on-line dalliance? He is wearing dark framed glasses and a retro brown and cream jacket. The best part, though, is his goatee and handlebar moustache. She’s your classic Main Street chick – mod hairdo, rolled jeans, white boots. Cute. After perching for a few minutes on the edge of the couch beside the guy, she has now removed her scarf and jacket and leaned back a bit. He has his arm slung over the back of the couch when he’s not gesturing rather wildly. I hope he doesn’t smack her in the head by accident. But they seem to be chatting in a fairly consistent way and haven’t looked around vaguely yet, so there’s hope.

So back to characters. I have been practicing by writing out descriptions of people that I see on the bus. I have noticed that novelists often say things like, “By the way he walked, she could tell he was the type of man who hesitated before making even the smallest decision”. So I have been trying to notice these kinds of things. The trouble, I find, is that in real life, people are always surprising me. So as soon as I have made a vast generalization about them, they go and do something that surprises me completely. Take the hesitant decision maker. All of sudden he will mutter to himself, “oh, I feel like a cup of coffee” and jump off at the next stop to fulfill his impulsive desire, and only then will I will realize that the hesitation in his step had nothing to do with indecision, it was only that he had stepped on a piece of gum and was trying to scrape it off.

Ah, the new couple have left on their date. They walked north on the Drive and it is about 6pm, so I’m going to hazard a guess that they are going for dinner. I do hope it goes well, they would make an amusing couple. Actually, maybe it was just that moustache that was amusing…

Back home but still finding out

2005-10-11T22:27:00.000-07:00

But why a blog, you ask? Why now? Well, I just read my last post to the South Africa blog and realized that I have not upheld my promise to myself to write every day. So I'm hoping this public announcement of my good intentions will hold me to the task a little better...

And why "Kicking Clay"? In the 1920's, across Canada, young men were hired to dig the necessary tunnels for new electrical and telephone wires. They dug these tunnels with their feet - using special shoes with little shovels on the ends. When the war started, their technique took on new possibilities and they were sent off to "the front" to dig tunnels for things like recorders and bombs.

I suppose I'm imagining writers to be a bit like these "clay kickers", burrowing beneath daily life, laying electricity and detonations at will...

We can always hope.