Cuts like a Sword (of Damocles)

We went to the meeting room to watch the live broadcast of the President's address.  We came back and immediately received an email about office lay-offs. 

Those tuned into the news already knew the pressures that were facing university funding and the address didn't exactly have good news or many assurances for us either... but it still was a bit of shock to get a notice email so soon.  There might have been a small sense of relief that I wasn't on the list and that with it done the next shouldn't be for a while...

Whatever else might have been going through my mind, Olivia cut through with one question: Why aren't people more proactive?  As in, why aren't people already looking for other jobs? 

While some of us at the office would look at the situation in hindsight and say so-and-so was likely to be laid off, did people really know ahead of time that their position was the weakest? 

I've been considering this and my own job security, but not looking for other employment.

In my case it's because:

1. Strategy - Getting laid off instead of quitting (though may lead to a longer unemployment gap) has the advantage of atleast qualifying for EI. 
2. Putting my head in the sand - There is the chance I can ride it out. 
3. Fear of uncertainty / wary of change - Could I ever find a similar job with such an understanding boss and nice co-workers?

It turns out Olivia and I aren't that different in these respects.  She stays positive thinking things might not change and even if she was laid off it would mean more time to work on her CGA courses and spend time with her family.  I'm trying to find the positives too.  But so far it doesn't make coming to work any easier.  Le Sigh. 

Hip Dim?

"You guys are so hipster."

Celina was talking about our move.  When I asked her what she meant she said, "You always have to do things different." 

So, doing it with the help from our friends rather than hiring a moving company is different?*

But that doesn't necessarily mean hipster, right?  It just means I'm we're cheap. 

Anyway, I thought of this when I realised I wanted we needed a rug: It is more "different" to buy one or make one? 

Regardless, I like making things and it might be the cheaper option since all those t-shirts I've collected haven't made it to my super-awesome wardrobe (yet) and can be used for this. 

Are there lots of internet instructions for making rugs out of random cloth and rags?  Yes! 

A circular no-sew version... A rectangular no-sew based on weaving which seemed easy...  Another based on braiding which seemed difficult.

There are many more and they all look pretty great.  (And I know my friends have made some before too...)  I just need now to make a decision, set some time out, and then, do it! 

Without, of course, getting distracted along the path by all the other DIY projects out there.  Or more properly, as I noticed from this collection that caught my eye, D.I.M. (Do It Myself) projects. 

Must make sure DIM isn't the dim option.  Hm...

* Actually, with all the friend-based moving I've done and seen, I would have thought hiring a moving company would have been the one "different".

Sunday: Groceries in Chinatown

Dad's still ill.  Mom asked me if I'll grocery shopping with her instead so that he could rest.  The request seemed a bit ridiculous.  Of course, I'd go.  You need me to go, I'll go. 

When I arrived I wondered if there was something wrong.  I saw the tin for burning joss paper and incense poked into an apple placed near the front door.  Perhaps I'm oversensitive, but does it mean someone (maternal grandmother, who's been having more health problems) has passed away?  But Mom didn't seem to have a problem visiting our house and she wasn't wearing mourning clothes.  So is this part of New Year's in some way?  Wish I didn't have to guess and just knew what these puzzle pieces meant.

With the warm weather, the things they've frozen in the backyard are starting to defrost - they'll need to eat that first - so there wasn't going to be many items or be that long of a shop.   Still, in that short time we bumped into an uncle.  A distant uncle by marriage, that now Goo Po has died, we haven't seen or heard about for a long time.

Mom looked genuinely happy to see him.  They talked about happy things.  An update of the last year included John and Li Yeen both getting married (to different people).  Guess it was a good year for weddings*...

I thought about the last time I saw either of them, which must have been close to 10 years ago.  And remembered some of the stupid fights we had when we were children, over toys and such.  It was good to hear they are doing well. 

* Superstitious side of me wishes I had saved an old horoscope to confirm: I think we're all monkeys, was last year predicted to be a good year for romance? 

Little Bits in Leduc

It was a clear and sunny afternoon, perfect for a road trip. Above freezing temperatures had melted much of the snow. 

Catherine picked me up and we headed south - Leduc here we come!

Our main goal in the City was to descend on Shauna and Jesse's to visit, and to meet Rebekah. 

We managed the first part with only one wrong turn.  As for the second... you can see (below), she wasn't necessarily as excited to see us as we were to see her.  But we managed to not be too heartbroken. 

While Rebekah slept, Shauna, Jesse, Catherine, Shauna's mom, and I sat down for a cup tea.  Alannah was mostly zipped around.

Catherine had made some ooey-gooey chocolate chip cookies (irresistable to and fully endorsed by Alannah) which we ate while chatting and catching up on things. 

Jesse had just finished reading Jennifer Cockrall-King's Food and the City: Urban Agriculture and the New Food Revolution which fell in line with his interest in natural foods and continued urban farming.  He said he learned a lot (must add to my future reading list). 

We saw the latest updates and renovations to the house and Alannah's latest toys (which were mostly ignored in favour of running around and around).

Eventually, when Alannah was ready for a little still-er fun, Catherine and I snuggled up with her on the couch to read aloud Sandra Boynton's Philadelphia Chickens. 

Signature animals danced across the pages as we sang the story / song lyrics.  Catherine's version was like a cantor's. I attempted to make them sound like showtunes.  Somehow, we made the duets work. 

It occurs to me now that with all our effort in singing it still might have not been pleasant if Alannah had already listened to the original star studded cast version (which included Meryl Streep and The Seldom Herd)* - we'd just have been doing it all wrong!  But Alannah had been kind enough not to say so.

* Clips of music available on Sandra Boynton's site. 

Not sure where the time went, but soon we'd found ourselves invited to stay for dinner.  The slow-cooker meal that had been simmering our entire visit was delicious.  And really, was it really that easy to prepare?  Both Catherine and my interest had been piqued.  She is, however, one step ahead of me with an actual slowcooker. 

It's always such a surprise that we'd let the space between seeing each other get so big. 

Congratulations again, Shauna and Jesse! 

(Right: The backyard - still a wilderness.)

Friday Off

Zipped around town today completing errands, getting lots done, and can now conclude: I am very good at spending money. 

Guess this is another reason to go to work.  So now, work to:

1. Earn money, and 
2. To reduce the time available to spend money.

But the spending was also doing things... which makes me think of the accounting principle in revenue recognition that involve matching revenue to expenses... To have truly earned, one needs to expense... (O.k. I know I'm mixing my cash and accrual accounting, but it sounded vaguely philosophical, but not to be practiced if I want to stay in the association...). 

Anyway, main point: It felt so good to get things done.  To be able to get things done.  To be effective in some way.  To have some of the annoying wrinkles ironed out and things on the to-do list checked off.  Oh the elation! 

Mom's campaign to convince us about getting a car could so easily be won if she could bottle this feeling (the frustration followed by relief).  But of course, she would probably wish more that I could walk properly.

Corporate Considerations

"Is it ideal to work for government or private business?" 

Olivia and Oksana's lunch chat started out as the usual faint buzz of fashion and cooking, but this question cut through the cubicle wall. 

Oksana responded on how there was a general perception of government workers being lazy, which she knew wasn't true...  

Meanwhile, I wondered just what was going on.  Then Olivia clarified, saying that in China it was generally accepted that the best place to work was for government, and if one could get a job there they had it made.  But here, it didn't seem so clear cut. 

I agreed, citing how many people tend to think working for government meant stability here, while private business meant bigger dollars (but more job risk).  But eventhough people might think this, reality might be quite different.  Such as how with the economy currently churning so slowly, governments have been asked to set an example with cuts and lay-offs (bye-bye job security)... while the strength of unions and human rights policies make it difficult for businesses to be as cut throat as may be theoretically. 

But back to "ideal": People have so many different goals that even if we accepted the job sector stereotypes, could we determine what is the best choice for everyone? 

We both could come up with the pros and cons of our workplace, but also could see why we wanted to be here, how it fit with our lifestyles... and then lunch ended. 

Though the conversation stopped, my brain still chugged on a little. 

I'd known the Chinese ideal to work for government - it was Mom's advice to me over and over again when I was looking for work.  When the words came from her mouth I thought it was because she wanted something stable and familiar for me (just like the men she tried to set me up with) - something akin to what I tend to believe about government workers who need stability: These are people with families.  And the opposite: It's the young singletons with nothing to lose who can gain a lot from the gamble of other work... (Though I know there are many other dimensions too.) 

However, what about China?  If the ideal is so really so clear, then:

1. Do most people there want a family life?  (I think about Cousin Ping Gook and her husband, and how pressured other cousins felt about getting married and starting families.)
2. Difference between the benefits of working for government versus working for business must be really big.  (Recall, Cousin Ian's talk of no unions and no retirement plans and hints of government corruption...)

The Family You Choose

For Paul today was mostly a regular work day.  I puttered around, did some chores and read.

The night before we'd watched The Muppets (painfully sweet - and which I liked a lot) and an episode of the British The Office (painfully depressing? - growing on me).  I'd thought we'd have a similar evening with videos and was kind of sad for it.  Here it was Family Day, but it was kind of lacking in family (and strangely too quiet).  Celina and Kevin hadn't made any moves to spend the day with me, and I hadn't suggested anything (like in previous years) considering my limited mobility. 

Maybe Paul felt it too - once his work day ended, he suggested we go out.  What?!  No planning?  Just go out?  And a couple of hours later, we were out dropping-in on Steph and Rem with only a call as coordination / warning (it helped to have the car). 

Hm... somehow I'd become very rusty at this (dropping-in and socialising). 

We were welcomed with tea and shortbread cookies.  It had felt like too long and I wanted to know and catch up on everything.  And after that, it was just being us. 

Steph revealed her multi-layered indoor footwear (the top blue one a synthetic slipper, the next one down a colourful wool, and then I'm pretty sure there was another layer below) while Rem showed off his lovely barefeet. 

Rem had subjected himself to something (reading) that was horribly sad.  Steph shook her head.  Which lead to sharing Rem's theory of "Practicing Empathy", which I took to be: For some (like Steph) reading / watching sad things are too miserable of an experience for they already have empathy and feel it so much more.  For others, we need to seek out the sadness to learn / to practice to feel it.  It's certainly a piece of the puzzle I can identify with.  But there's also catharsis... and I'm sure there are those who like self punishment. 

We left perhaps a little later than was wise for a work night, but I certainly felt better for it.  This is probably a sign.  So many people in one weekend, and I feel good, I might just need more. 

We are Horrible People

The evening started off nicely.  Grant and Sarah arrived for dinner.  They got a tour of the house (though not the full tour).  We'd managed to stash things away, tidy, and clean most areas so that the experience wouldn't be too embarrassing (upsidedown babies aside). 

We ate dinner.  See how lovely they are (right).










And then it all went wrong: We'd opened Cards Against Humanity. 






All of sudden we were being gross and laughing at politically incorrect things.  We were plotting and being offensive on purpose.  All that in order to win in the game that was like a pervert's fill-in-the-blank version of Apples to Apples. 
Paul was struck silent (from laughing too hard).

"Dear Abby, I'm having some trouble with __________ and would like your advice."

Though Sarah apologised often ("Sorry, honey."), Grant still had to cover his eyes to block out the images. 

 

Below: "A romantic candlelit dinner would be incomplete without ____________."

 

Despite all this, I still suspected Sarah was actually a nice person.  So, when she had to judge "The UN has declared ___________ as a basic human right."  I played "Puppies".  And won. 

See, she isn't that horrible.

 

Right: For reference, this is what Grant's considers the game's trump card. 

The Full Tour

"And here is the kitchen, it has three entrances!"

"... here's the fridge... and inside the fridge..." 

Note: This was before we cleaned up.

Another Tasty Valentine's

"Yes, we've heard good things about and we'll have to go there some time."  A moment later, "You did pack your bus pass, right?" 

I suspected that last bit was a feint.  Though I was using his arm (he was holding me up) and we were walking to the bus stop, I was still pretty sure we weren't going far (he'd told me not to bring my crutch).  Which narrowed it to two likely dinner destinations: Creole Envie and La Boheme.  Now the next question, was that nonchalant chat with Prabdeep about La Boheme also a feint? 

Indeed, there was a slight hesitation at the bus stop before he redirected our course... and we're here!  Surprise!  And yes, it was still a surprise because even though I had narrowed it down and thought the whole thing with Prabdeep would have been cosmically funny if it did turn out, it seemed too extravagant. 

Anyway, I tried to drink in the full experience: Eating with my eyes, though it was incredibly moodfully dark, and then with my mouth.  We were seated in the main room which I wanted to call "the Sunflower" for the sunflower paintings on the wall.  An abstract wire mobile in the corner spun slowly until it resolved into a ghostly violin player. 

The waitress offered us something called cinnamon champagne.  Though I don't usually drink, it was included in the meal and I figured it would be interesting to see just what it was. 

(Right: Yes, indeed it's bubbly and cinnamon hearts.)

The printed menu showed the path our gastro experience was to take - a five course set meal with some options.  It also revealed the price tag for the evening, and that the booking was limited to 2 hours.

We had:

Soupe: Cream of Wild Mushroom

Petite Entrée:  salade de boccocini and
escargot dans la coquille

Trou Normand: Champagne Sorbet

Entrees Principales: Nous Ahi and Filet mignon de brochettes

Dessert: Chocoalte cake topped with a berry coulis and Caramel Pecan Pie

I was really excited for my escargot.  Was even more delighted when I saw they came in shells.  However there wasn't the same complicated eating method like for the Chinese snails, the flesh from these just seemed to fall out.  Paul had said it was too dark for him to take photographs.  I knew he liked the shape of the shells, so I gathered them up and asked the waitress if could take them home.  She said no. 

My face must have revealed my internal "Oh!"  (It occurred for me ask, but it was a request I didn't expect to be denied.)  As she cleared them away, she explained that the butter sauce could go rancid, and if anyone took the shells home and tried to cook with them or even reuse them for presentation, they could get sick - so it would be a health risk.  While her explanation was plausible, it made us also a little suspicious: Maybe they reused the shells too?

Our main courses arrived with "crisps" and vegetables.  One was difficult for me to identify (left) - perhaps it's a baby zucchini?  Unfortunately my choice, the Ahi tuna, which read in the description to me like sashimi, wasn't. 

After all this food, I didn't think we could fit in any dessert... but when they arrived, we still picked at them a little.  But then sensibily, asked for them to be wrapped up. 

We'd definitely overstayed the seating time, but between talking and people-watching (and the eating) I wasn't in a hurry to leave.  It was nice then that we weren't rushed. 

I'd taken multiple looks at the room and at the people around us.  (And, of course, wondered if we looked like the other couples...)

My attention, was mostly attracted to the well-dressed older couple in the table next to us.  A helium balloon had been placed between our tables to create a divider, and when the balloon floated too close, I would use its readjustment as a chance to take another look.  The woman shimmered in a kelly green sequined cardigan over a long black dress, the man was in a suit and wearing a bow tie.  Both had white hair.  I thought them cute.  I wondered if they were a long married couple, or if they had recently met.  Paul suspected from the man's accent that he was German. 

Perhaps they knew I had an ear out for them.  When Paul left for the washroom, I heard clearly, it was a very rich meal, that they couldn't do often, but it was a special day... 

I wondered then if they had heard me tell Paul my worries about the cost of the evening, how I felt it was overly decadent... and maybe they just wanted to coach / coax me: Enjoy the moment, worry less, celebrate the special days... from an experienced married couple to a (still kind of) newly married one. 

Though, of course, it's not always about me. 

Back at home, I gave Paul my gift to him.  It wasn't so grand as the meal, but he seemed to like it.  And as though it wasn't late and he wasn't tired, he immediately started playing with the polarised filter. 

Office Sweethearts

And some advice from Uncle Ethel



http://www.gocomics.com/9chickweedlane/2012/10/21

 

Happy Valentines Day! 

Kicking It For Real

Catherine and Amanda Palmer have both directed me to kickstarter (probably the most well-known crowdfunding site) to check out some really cool projects... But it's taken me a while to actually check it out. 

When I did, this is what I caught my eye: Amazing Jellyfish!

They are so mesmerizingly beautiful.  And the project speaks about conservation too!  I was close to backing it, when I noticed pledge rewards were different for those outside of the US. 

The Grow Jar also seems like a great product idea!  Um... but again, the lower pledge rewards are not available to Canada. 

This is a bit disappointing.  These projects aren't any less worthy, just that the "International Backer" pledges aren't as economical... And I am too cheap and not altruistic enough to just send money. (Though it is good there's an option of pledging any amount - starting at a $ 1 - simply to support a project...)

Both projects have been fully funded for their initial goals, so maybe there's a chance we'll see them across the border at some point.  But, I'm thinking a "kickstarter" for Canadian projects would really be great.  I'm sure we have the innovation and need here. 

In the meantime, I guess I'll just keep trolling kickstarter.  There's definitely something exciting in just knowing such fabulous and inspiring things are happening out there (in the US). 

The next (big) step: Actually doing something about it. 

Opening the New Year

Dinner at parents' to "Open" the new year.  And they served exactly what I felt was missing, traditional foods (among a few new creations - making a total of eight on the table, with soup on the side). 

(Right: Slurping is not strictly polite, but at least Kevin's eating his seaweed.) 

While the meal was mostly the same (Celina and Kevin quickly eating and then leaving the table, Theresa and my parents updating on different family members they talked too in the past few days), after dinner was decidedly different.  I was no longer to go and play with the kids.  Nope, again, an adult my place was to work, help clean up, and figure out what foods I was to take home. 

 

Paul, Celina, and Kevin played games and finally got the green light to open tray of goodies from Christmas (left). 

Meanwhile, back at home:

Calendar Boys

Happy Chinese New Year!

New Year's Day - Traditions Reinvented

"So for the day, so for the upcoming year..." or something like that.  I attempted to create some of the same festive spirit at my parents' home, but without having to do what they do (i.e. wake up two hours earlier for cooking and offerings to the ancestors), and maybe create some new traditions.

Slept through the night instead of waking up in the middle to do the "Walk for Big Fortune" for the new year (new).  (Mom didn't reveal the details of the direction and time anyway, and walking would have been that easy.)  But did dress in tones of red (traditional), and spoil the kids with sweets and red pockets (traditional). 

Paul left the house for work. 

I cooked a vegetarian lunch (traditional) and then a treat, using the "foot spa" for the first time.  Um... is it supposed to smoke like that?  I worried about wat this would mean for our "rest of the year", but an unburnt (if a bit lopsided) loaf of raisin bread did eventually emerge.  (With a proper prosperous name it would definitely be "new".)

Baking is not the tidiest of activities and I regretted it a little for all the mess I made and couldn't sweep up (traditional). 


It looked like a pretty nice day outside with plenty of sunshine.  But, I was stuck inside and it all seemed a little too quiet and still... Especially compared to past years with my Dad's special New Year's soundtrack (including sounds of firecrackers) blaring, their phone ringing over and over again, and our New Year's greetings to family (traditional) back in China shouted into the phone*... Or I'd be at work and be sharing these greetings with my Chinese co-workers. 

Paul returned for dinner.  I reheated the special care package from Mom and Dad which included roast pork and deep fried dumplings with other prosperously named dishes (traditional),  that were definitely not vegetarian. 

We ate and talked, and it finally felt a bit more right.  This was to the sounds of Flight of the Concords (new, but you probably didn't need me to tell you that :P).
--------------------------------------------

* Found out later the silence and isolation wasn't required, but that I had misunderstood Mom: When she said I shouldn't call her and Dad to "bai nian" (send greetings for the new year) that day, I thought it was something to do with me being in my first year of marriage and there would be some clash (like with some other events...) and it should apply to all people.  What she meant was I shouldn't bother, because I'd be too busy calling all my aunts and uncles and cousins.... etc.  Oh.

Can't Say No

"Just look!  There's one in the washroom too!" 

I pointed to the calendar.  Kevin and Celina both shook their heads and made similar spluttering noises.  All of us were thinking "Why?"

Dad has six calendars hanging in the house (one in each bathroom) that I knew of, and there was a surplus stack of more on the shelf.  Mom had given both me and Theresa a couple in the past month and was trying to get us to take more.  She noted how pretty they were (each was different).  She noted how useful they were.  She probably thought, "Take some we have too many!" 

And I probably wouldn't have minded if the art was right (there would be some craft potential) or if Dad had been o.k. with me giving them away (there's always Reuse)... but he wasn't, they weren't, and already with two I was having trouble figuring out what was an auspicious day or not!  More would only confuse the matter. 

I half wonder if all the calendars are because he has trouble remembering what day it was, and this was a trick to keep on track.  Though his memory hasn't faded as much as Mom's (that I could tell). 

If this was fiction, I would think just maybe this was a symbol: Dad is getting older and who could refuse more days, more months, another year, if they were offered to you? 

But this reading of life would just be too impractical. 

We didn't talk about it any more at the New Year's Eve reunion dinner.

(un)Dress to Kill

Goal: Do as much house cleaning as I can (without hurting myself), before Sunday. 

Now that I'm not living with my parents, Chinese New Year will definitely be different.  I'm too lazy (or not competent) to do everything required, but still superstitious enough that not all traditions are going out the door.  It's a big "no" to incense, but cleaning before the new year just feels right.  And things like haircuts.  I convinced Paul, since he needed one, we should cut his hair now else he'd have to wait another two weeks. 

We were going to go with what worked in the old house (i.e. In the living room, while watching a standup comedian's show on the laptop).  But we didn't count on one big difference: Friendly neighbours!

If we had managed to have dinner a little earlier... and started the haircutting a little earlier... the knock at the door would have caused quite a scramble.  Run and hide!  Make sure the neighbours don't catch Paul half-naked*! 

Instead they caught us during dinner so the haircut itself was fairly uneventful.  Except for the parts in Eddie Izzard's Dress to Kill where I learned about being an executive transvestite,



the choice of cake or death,



and the importance of flags. 



Then I vacuumed him and the living room clean.  There, right on schedule. 

Also, good news: Paul's feeling better; bad news: I'm now sick. 

*i.e. With his shirt off :)

Returning Home: The Quest

"What happened?  Did hurt your foot kicking someone's butt?"

I surprised myself by laughing at the bus driver's joke.  Actually, I'd managed to kick my own butt, several times in my "quest" to get home.

My first day back at work (end of last week) actually went pretty well.  I'd timed things reasonably, got (and probably missed some) buses, and waited patiently for the connections while others waited patiently for me. It took longer, but I did get home at a reasonable time.  Basically, I managed.

Today, however, was all a mess. 

The long version: I arrived at Colesium transit centre, saw Bus A waiting at its stop (located at the far end from the LRT entrance), hobbled toward it, covered more than half the distance before it drove away.  I go back to the LRT station entrance to check the schedules and wasn't too worried, Bus B would come soon enough (and was right at the LRT station entrance).  But Bus B didn't appear.  A little later, I see another Bus A.  Again, I dash for it, but again, before I actually make it to its stop, it drives away.  Not much time to think on it, for I see the late Bus B pass me to get to its stop, and as I raced for it, it drove away too.  ARGH! 

The short version: I criss-crossed the transit station multiple times, missed a lot of buses, got really frustrated, and just wanted to cry. 

Then, thankfully, I caught Bus C*'s driver's eye and he waited for me to get to his stop and get on.  He also let me off at intersection between bus stops so that I'd have a shorter walk home. 

At last, more than an hour and half later than expected, I was at home.  I didn't feel triumphant.  I was just exhausted, hungry, and in pain.  And then annoyed... and then guilty: I'd answered the phone and it was Mom saying how I had made her worry because I wasn't home and hadn't called... and I snapped at her. 

I guess the positive from all this is that at least I didn't cause a car accident like last Friday**. 

-------------------------------------------------------

* Only to find out afterwards I was really lucky: Paul had never taken Bus C to get home, I'd mixed up the bus numbers of another he'd recommended.

** I was waiting to cross a four lane street to get to my parents' house, when Car 1 in the near lane stopped to let me cross.  I started crossing, but cars in the far lane were just zooming by.  Cars behind Car 1 were changing lanes to pass too.  Car 1 started honking until Car 2 in the far lane stopped.  But Car 3 in the far lane didn't, and rear ended Car 2.  Thankfully, no one was hurt.  This is definitely not the way I want to stop traffic. 

Penny-wise

The penny stopped production last year, and as of today will no longer be distributed by the banks.  And as retailers move away from accepting or dispending pennies, we might not see them at all, and I am a little sad about it.

I know how impractical it was to have a coin that was worth less than it cost to make, but it's a coin that's definitely been a big part of my childhood.  This was back before children were rich :)  My pennies were earned with tasks and chores (such as pulling out the grey hairs from my sister's head: One penny for three, minus one penny for a mistake black).  And five of them could easily buy candy!  And, if I managed to resist spending them, my brain, already keen on collecting, told me to put it away in a jar (the beginning of a coin collection). 

I'd heard a lot of "good riddance" type comments to the news stories (countering the "icon" argument).  But when someone on the radio commented they didn't even bother to pick up pennies they saw on the ground, I was shocked.  It's free money!  And just think of the luck they're leaving behind.  Well, that just means there's more for me. 

The slightly more sensible side of me tells me I should now go through those collection jars and put some order into things*... And then, I'll have to make a call out to my lovelies to help me to complete my set. 

*A special place should be set out too for all the 2012 pennies I can get...

Wanted: A Life

Distractions, distractions... What is my art? 

Have been telling people the bright side of the injury is that since I knew I had to quit dance TAing at some point, this is down time is actually good: Time to focus my energy on figuring out what I wanted to do next.  But I am no closer to an answer... no closer to a method to find an answer either. 

The status quo wasn't great (o.k. maybe a bit horrible), but it did have a built in social circle, a feeling that I was doing something helpful and a little glamorous, and it was some regular exercise. 

Now, aside from house-setting-up-and-maintenance things (which can be somewhat interesting and fun, but is still work)... I'm just "limping on a log" (yes, a rather mixed up metaphor).  This is probably just another distraction until I find a better distraction once I'm fully mobile...

I know Paul wants to be supportive, but doesn't know what else to do.  This isn't the first time I've brought this up.

Nora Charles: Nick? Nicky?
Nick Charles: What?
Nora Charles: You asleep?
Nick Charles: Yes!
Nora Charles: Good. I want to talk to you.

Anyway, my mismatched collection of magazines might actually be helpful as Paul looks for images for his class.  After a long day spent on it, he indulged me by sitting down to watch The Thin Man. 

It probably wasn't his kind of thing*, being an older American film it was likely to have over-the-toip acting.  But I wanted to watch it since Judge John Hodgman recommended the movie several times on his podcast and it was amazingly just sitting there at the library the last time I visited. 

I laughed, made guesses as to the murderer's identity and motivations (Paul's guess, however, was the right one), but mostly I laughed.  Paul looked into the movie's trivia and found it was filmed in only 2 weeks. Well, that explained some of the bits that didn't quite flow as well.  All in all though, I'd still recommend it for the fun fashions, some rather ridiculous characters, and witty banter between the married leads. 

I suggested to Paul that he and I could aspire to be like them, sans all the drinking (of course).  But we all know who the "lanky brunette with a wicked jaw" in our circle actually is. 

* But at least they had a good reason to be in black and white having been filmed in 1934 and all, unlike Clerks (which I still liked, but didn't seem to sit well with Paul at all).

Frankenhorn

In which Bessie goes to the doctor.

The address took us to a residential home - not what I would have expected for Frankenhorn the musical instrument repair shop.  The wooden steps were quite worn, the door a bit broken... until the the friendly face answered the doorbell, I was still thinking, "Is this the right place?". 

Robert, who for obvious reasons gets called "Frank" a lot, welcomed us into his living room.  While he and Paul discussed valve problems, I was being half charmed, half puzzled by the whole place.  CBC Radio 1 was playing (though this has led me astray before), the living room had bookcases full of science fiction novels, and the small space was further crowded by bags of recyclables and lots and lots of instrument cases. 



















After determining he could likely do something, he led us down to his basement workshop. 

The basement wasn't small, but from all the shelves of instrument cases and large workbenches there was only just enough space for us to walk single file. 

His table was filled with tools, rags, bits of metal, pieces of things...  The other was incredibly tidy with little compartments neatly labelled.

I'd figured this was the difference between fixing brass instruments versus woodwinds.  But Robert simply said the other person was just neater. 

Bessie went on the operating table.  As he cleaned and oiled and did the required magic, his stream of annedotes didn't stop.  There were stories about famous musicians, interesting instruments... Despite me not knowing much, it was still entertaining.  And maybe I learned some things too: About the trade-off between responsiveness and sound in some instruments (and then how some musicians moved beyond that and sounded like themselves no matter what they played); and the little springy part that would solve this problem, but was only made in Texas and could only be ordered in the hundreds (which later he'd managed to track someone down to reasonable send him a few)...

While the whole going-into-his-home thing, had seemed a bit strange, I'd certainly warmed up to him by the end. 

So, how did Frankenhorn end up in his basement?  Quite simply because the rent prices on of their old location was unmanageable.  Which was the unfortunate side of a booming economy (that didn't quite trickle down to musical instrument repair). 

I have no review of the actual repair (Paul will have to do that), but a small local business, where someone who was willing to open up their home on the weekend (when other places were closed), seems like good thing to me. 

O.k. Bessie, you stay healthy now.