No One Will Ever Sing it Like IZ

Rest in peace, sweetheart.

Ukulele Mama

It don't usually go shopping on Sunday, so taking the trip downtown on Grey Cup day to purchase a uke was seriously surreal. Folks in neon green and orange mohawks, all kinds of football jerseys with padded shoulders, everyone with some kind of design painted under their eyes and four mysterious men dressed as polar bears. Much of the crowd was older--aged 50 plus. There were even some diehard Sask. Roughrider fans looking serious in their green and white togs.

First, I entered the HMV flagship store for the third time in my life. They are going out of business and I was lured by fantasies of bins of bargain CDs. What a waste of time. DO NOT GO. They are shipping the good stuff to their other stores and selling absolute crap at the price Chapters sells it across the street. Bah Humbug. I bought a Pupini Sisters Christmas CD and I don't even like that. I neglected to notice that it contains two of my LEAST favorite Christmas songs. Ick treacle slobber ick.

So I went to Tom Lee's and talked to a man about a uke. They were on sale 'cause it was Black Friday weekend. I took it home and Peter commandeered it straight away and untuned it and then tuned it. It has a nice big sound for such a little guy. I look forward to twanging with it over the holidays.

We have been sampling Christmas fruitcakes and stolen. Butter's fruitcake is too crumbly. Choices dark fruit cake is good and moist, but lacks booze. We like the light mini stolen loaves at Sweet Obsession. Just perfect for sharing. We had the stolen with Elephant Island Framboise, which also went well with the tiger butter bark we made--kind of like the ultimate peanut butter and jam. Must buy port. I make a note.

Did ya see Ullie's poem below? I iz so proud.

Ullie's Peace Poem

a white dove soars over the tranquil moonlit lake.

over the forest. over small towns bringing hope it flies.

silently it swoops over dreamers and storytellers in the pale light of the moon.

troubled minds become calm as the night warmth replaces cold hearts.

the wind whistles through the trees. all of nature is in harmony.

the dove continues its journey bringing its message to all who see it.

the war has ended. a time of peace has come.

Jake is the MAN

Jake Shimabukuro, ukulele virtuoso is my new hero. He does a version of 'My (Ukulele) Gently Weeps'. So awesome. I can't wait to buy a uke. I've given Peter my Christmas list: uke books, uke tuner, and CDs by Chorleoni and Mountain Man. Woot! It's gonna be a ukulele Christmas at the OK Corral. Wanna join my porch band?

Catherine and I were at Butter Bakery yesterday and Neil Young was singing 'Heart of Gold' on their sound system. "I love this song!" I declared and another customer and I had a conversation about those composers who write great songs but can't sing worth sh-t: Dylan, Cohen, et al. We still love them though. Those guys all were the background music to different periods in my life.

As I write this I can hear Cuan practicing the violin on skype--so funny that there are these sonic layers in our lives.

Another Day, Another Ditty

Another project is now wrapped up and put to bed. Thank you JESUS!

The big wind last night made me feel I was in the belly of a ship, or a whale. Especially since I've been reading a novel about people who used to lure people to shore to wreck their ships and steal their cargo. Lots of people missed sleep last night.

Another song today--a real hurtin' tune.

Snow Dee Oh

Yes, we haz snow. Had it since the weekend. And today we had the weather I hate most, which is raining onto piles and puddles of slush. I don't have proper boots for this weather because I think maybe they just don't exist. Someone should make them and call them Slushpuddlers.

I am very happy to report that I have written a lullabye and now I need to start recording these songs so I don't forget them. Wish I had the dough to just jump into this song cycle project.

The choir clinic was intense and Dr. Trotter was awesome. He was light, funny and insightful. My head is full with the sound of music, and sometimes two songs overlap and play in my head which is very bizarre. What I loved about Trotter was that instead of assuming we were idiots he was very affirming and positive about the human tendency towards musical intelligence. What a rare gift he has.

Took down the show today, which left me in a state of post-gig blues. Transitions always take their toll. I've got a hellish meeting tomorrow to sort out a beurocratic mess and wrap up another project and then it's on to brighter and shinier things. I hope.

I am relieved and glad that Gregor was voted back into office. The alternative was too horrific to think about. Would have preferred COPE instead of NPA candidates getting voted in, but oh well. At least the one who shall not be named will now be silent. We hope.

Reading more Mankell--The Man from Beijing and Kennedy's Brain. Those books don't appeal to me as much because they are more in the thriller genre, hopping around to exotic locations and requiring a huge suspension of disbelief. Which reminds me--I've got books to return. Toodles.

Wind Chill

I'm shocked to read it is 4 degrees C out there. It feels much colder, with the wind. We now have all our new floors installed upstairs, but it is still pretty chilly up here.

I just read the final Wallander novel by Henning Mankell, which is really a rich piece of work to be savored slowly. Occasionally, I did get impatient with the pace, but other times I just really enjoyed the slow unwinding of the details. The book is called The Troubled Man. And yes, I check every library book for bugs. I am going to get a reputation as the crazy lady who flips through the pages three times before she checks out each book.

I decided that I want a ukulele for Christmas--a top quality one with a pick up.

The grapefruit are really good at this time of the year. I am enjoying them every day for brekkie. And I have been eating an inordinate amount of BBQ flavored chips for some reason. I hope the chapter in that book is closing. They are really disgusting.

Funny how some trees hold onto their leaves in these fierce gusts of wind and some just let go. I even saw a boy trying to shake a tree. At first I thought he was trying to shake off the leaves, but then I realized he'd lost something he'd thrown into the tree. Is it time to shake the tree? Or just let the wind do all the work?

Stress Relievers

Stressful days I'm having, waiting for calls for prospective jobs. My head feels like it is in a vise. In the mean time, I plan to vote today and get that done.

We have been enjoying watching episodes of The Republic of Doyle, a detective series set in Newfoundland created by (shock!) the CBC. It's the best thing the TV part of the corporation has made in a long time. Finally, someone has used the islands of St. Pierre and Miquelon (sp?) in a Canadian plot.

Anyone got some good ideas for relieving stress?

Dad's Birthday

Dad turned 77 this year and I was happy we were able to celebrate with him, since we're not often in the same province on his b-day. He has always been what a great dad should be: kind, funny, supportive, and generous. He has many incredible life skills and he is a curious and passionate life-long learner. Dad rocks!

Craving Comfort

These days I am out of my mind craving fall comfort food. Since the first frost in early November I just want to dive into plates of comfort food to stay warm and cozy. I am craving short ribs in some kind of rich sauce with star anise over polenta. Cheese! I dream of all kinds of cheese, but mostly simple cheddar. Last night I went to a performance potluck and there were crock pots of awesomeness: pulled pork, hearty beef curry along with classic scalloped potatoes smothered in cheddar, an excellent coleslaw with pistachios, cous cous (not quite polenta, but still good) and a chocolate cake with raspberries and cayenne. Almost everyone did a "turn" in a kind of Victorian-style salon that included lots of solos, quartets, swing-dancing, a Leonard Cohen impersonator and yours truly singing a new song I wrote. The pianist who accompanied almost everyone was an incredibly talented sight reader and composer. But the one who stole the show was the giant black and white cat who strutted about deigning to received adoration. He OWNED that salon.

Homeless Veterans

Today there's been a group of programs related to Remembrance Day themes on CBC Radio One and I was shocked to discover the extent of the problem of homeless vets in North America. In the United States, it is estimated that one in four homeless people is a vet. In Canada, there are no statistics that I could find, which is a statement in itself. On the hopeful side of things, there are people who are creating programs based on the idea that you wouldn't leave a wounded person behind on the battlefield, so why would you leave them alone on the streets. The same could be said of civilians who are fighting their own internal and external battles with homelessness and poverty. There are also new programs to help soldiers deal with psychological trauma which seem to be working. Perhaps the success of these programs will also affect the way in which civilians deal with trauma in their lives.

I was intrigued with the stripped down language that the vets in the Drop the Baggage program at UBC were using to describe the process of treating each other. This dismantling of the current terms of treatment is a fresh way of empowering the person being treated. Peer counseling strips away the authoritative tropes of psychological treatment. This could be an essential part of the recovery process, making it more collaborative and helping the person being treated as not identifying and defining themselves as a victim.

Anakana Schofield has written an excellent blog post on the homeless in the current Occupy Vancouver protest at the VAG.

Chick Peas at Last

Well, today is the last day I am tour guide Barbie for mom and dad. Today we went to Aphrodite's which was not a big hit. I think the food was a bit too healthy for my dad. He claims he had never eaten chick peas before. "These little round things--look like turkey nuts," he scowls comically. On Wednesday he turns 77. It's about time he tried chick peas. I say they are good for diabetics and he says "So does everything else that tastes like sh-t." Anyhow, he did like the chocolate pecan pie--diabetes be damned.

We've been hitting a lot of book stores and I was able to use my Green Zebra coupon. I also ordered a book from Banyen from the UK--they are totally cool about ordering books for customers. We bought some cute clothes for my little niece--she is so much fun to shop for: bling! purple! shiny!

Found a great book for dad about 100 photos which changed Canadian history, including the one called "Wait for Me Daddy!" by Detloff that I curated into the show. I think he'll like it. I bought a pumpkin roulade from Whole Foods for a celebration tonight. Everyone was admiring it as I carried it home on the bus.

We've been indulging in taxi rides and today one driver says he witnessed a man being chases by civilians after he stabbed someone on Robson Street. He said the crime in Vancouver is making people scared. Apparently the Hotel Vancouver has locked its doors because the protesters at the VAG were using the bathrooms and "stealing expensive things."

Another cab driver totally saved my ass by questioning whether I gave him the correct address. Turns out I was wrong. Doh. And the other night as I was pointing out the Olympic lights on Cambie, a cab driver with a gorgeous husky voice said, "Tell them about the bad stuff--the debts, the protests, and on and on." I am quite heartened by these lively denizens of the city. The art of conversation with strangers lives on.

Post Halloween Post

Lovely sunny and breezy day yesterday, ripping the painted leaves off the trees on Ontario Street. Leaves swirling around carved pumpkins and caught in faux spider webs wrapped around manicured hedges. I soaked beans, hung up the Halloween lights and melted chocolate for the graveyard cake. For me, tidying and decorating always seem to go hand in hand, so the closer together the occasions, the tidier the house. Ules remarked "Is someone coming for dinner? Only I've noticed you only clean the table when we have people over." Busted. So busted.

The pressure was on as the night before Halloween at 9 o'clock I was asked where was the mask from last Halloween. Blast. I ended up looking in every plastic tub in both porches until minutes before school the next morning, the pumpkin grimace was unearthed. I started the day with a sore back in a foul mood.

Luckily, things went better from there. The beans cooked and the ingredients I dug out of the pantry and fridge gave it flavour: dried mushrooms whizzed to crumbs in the food processor, bits of fresh tomato going soft, tomatillo salsa and tomato paste. I grated two zucchinis from the garden for the chocolate cake and made the sugar cookie graves.

J brought an excellent salad, blush wine, and bread. I served up a roasted chicken from Choices along with the chili and some "witch's teats"--roasted purple fingerling potatoes. The doorbell rang and I served 6 t&tr's--the only ones all night.

The boys headed out with C's grandma who helps make his fab costumes. Yesterday it was a Bugati. Ules says it neither he or C could see very well, so he used his cane to tap his way up and down the stairs and C's windows kept fogging up. The Bugati was a big hit, with C scoring many bonus candies for his awesome costume.

I stayed home and washed dishes and then Anakana came over and we chatted while she knitted. Knitting is therapeutic even for those who just watch it being performed. Men should knit in prison. It would probably save a lot of grief. Men in the navy used to knit. It probably kept them sane on cramped ships and submarines. Knitting for sanity. Perhaps I should take it up.