Tired...

And sore, borderline migrainy - I'll be back tomorrow with a proper post, including such fascinating topics as cold prevention, and the end of an era...

It's the Weekend...

Time to get your rock on!

Photo courtesy of The Kitten Covers

Funny Business

So... Tanner is in grade 12 this year, which means either "victory lap" or continuing his education next fall. He has always had a strong flair for the dramatic, dressing up and making up 'plays'  for he and his cousins to perform at family get-togethers.  It's not surprising that he has found himself in the 'Specialist High Skills Major' (SHSM) program for Drama at Central High.  He performs in musicals and plays, won an award for Excellence in Acting in a provincial competition last year and this year is considering writing and possibly directing his own play for the school's Spring Arts Festival.

So the focus and direction are there... the question is, where to take it from here?

This afternoon we went to Humber College in Toronto, so Tanner could learn more about something that has him genuinely excited - their Comedy Writing and Performance program.  It's a two year diploma program with close ties to Yuk Yuk's comedy club, with guest lecturers like Colin Mochrie (whom I adore), Eugene Levy, and Billy Crystal, just to name a few.

The course names alone made me laugh, which I guess is good for a comedy program.  Things like Stand-up Comedy, Improv, History of Comedy, Comedy Scriptwriting and Physical Comedy - nothing even remotely like the typical academic roster I'd guess most of us were confronted with at the college or university level.

He's a little excited.  A LITTLE?  Hell, I'm excited!!

I'm excited that he has such a specific interest, and that it can be met somewhere close to home.  I'm excited that the program director seems very accommodating and reassuring, telling Tanner that, although an audition using a 2-minute self-written piece is required, most applicants aren't too good, and it's more fun than anything else.  I'm most excited that he's so excited.

And yet... there's that part of me that was hoping he'd go for the extra semester at high school.  Take a little extra time, improve some grades, hang out.  Maybe stay young, need his mother, all that.  It's quite something to be confronted with a college-aged kid who is so pumped about moving on.  I feel like the work of raising him has been successful so far, as what we're ultimately trying to do is get them ready to go out into the world and find something that makes them happy.  And we may well be on the way to that.  And I am truly, genuinely glad for that.

And yet...

No rest for the wicked...

or is it the weary?  I've never been sure, but I am definitely in the latter category these days.  Time change, of course, for which I am blaming Maggie's recent need to roust me every morning at 4:30AM for no apparent reason.

And we are busy, busy, busy.  The boys, that is - I simply exist to do their bidding.

Both boys are involved in the school musical, to be performed WHILE I AM AWAY - my one trip a year without them and that's when it is.  But there are rehearsals - daily rehearsals - going sometimes till 8 at night.  There are guitar lessons and hockey games, and Tanner's newest stint, volunteering at our local TV station (his name was in the credits last week for the show he was working on, which was kinda cool).

And there are days, like today, when everything converges and our plans rely on a precisely timed flow of events, where just one thing being out of whack will spell certain disaster (read: tardiness) for the rest of the evening.

I don't do tardy well.

So, it's now 12 hours since I got up and I am making lasagna which has to be ready at precisely 5, which is the time the boys should be walking through the door.

And then everything else should be tickety-boo.  Fingers crossed.

I will ignore the light that came up on my dashboard earlier this afternoon and assume it's a system glitch. I will simply focus on getting everyone where they need to be when they need to be there.  I will make the ultimate sacrifice and forego my flannels until I have brought Tanner home, just after 9pm.

And I may bring some of this (The Plucky Knitter MCN Worsted, Plucky Classics collection) with me, because it makes me happy, soothes my tired old nerves, and feels soooooo good it might make me feel slightly less weary.  Or wicked.

Ten on Tuesday...

The topic this week is 10 things you do to care for yourself when you have cold.

I consider myself something of an authority on colds, as I would estimate I've spent between 1/3 to 1/2 of my life either suffering or recuperating from a cold.  And I'm not talking a dainty, sniffling into a lace hankie kind of a cold.  No, when I get a cold it's a major life-altering event... well, at least for the 5 - 7 days it's with me.

My face changes, my voice changes, I walk like Quasimodo and tend to communicate in low, guttural sounds.

So what do I do to take care of myself?

1. Medicate, medicate, MEDICATE.  I abhor Neo Citran, but it is one of the few things that guarantees me at least a few hours of sleep.

2.  Soup.  Chicken, noodles or rice, vegetables or not - can't eat enough soup.  I love homemade soup, but if I haven't had the foresight to freeze some then I'll take anything.

3.  Rest.  Usually easier said than done, but I try really hard to carve out some quiet, sitting still time.  I have a hard time napping during the day, but I think that just sitting is an acceptable substitute.  When I feel really crappy I don't even knit (shocked gasps!!), I just sit.

4.  Kleenex.  LOTS of it, at several key spots throughout the house.  

5.  Garbage bags accompanying said Kleenex boxes.  I still remember my brother, who gets colds like I do, leaving piles of used Kleenex beside his chair or couch - drove my sister-in-law nuts, which I totally get. I am grossed out just typing it.

6.  Flannel pyjamas.  One of my favourite things for whatever ails me, fresh-from-the-dryer flannels never fail to make me feel a little better.

7.  Email my mother and inform her of my condition.  Sure, it's sucky and whiny, but she always feels sorry for me and that makes me feel better.  Because even though I'm 50 on the outside, when I have a cold I'm 8 on the inside.

8.  Drink tea.  I am not a big tea drinker, although I am working hard to acquire a taste for matcha.  Coffee is one of my elixirs of life (red wine being the other, naturally).  However,  I know when I'm sick because I can't stand coffee, and just want to be continuously sipping tea, preferably with honey.

9.  Vicks vaporub.  How old-fashioned can you get, right?  But this is still the single best remedy for sinus clearing that I know.  And it really does help with aches and pains, PLUS if you rub it on the soles of your feet it actually does stop coughing.  No idea how that works, but I don't question it - I just know it does.

10.  Sleep.  Not always easy, but I usually go to bed ridiculously early, after a hot bath with eucalyptus-scented epsom salts, and try to sleep as much as possible.

In the last year or so, I have learned a few things to do to prevent colds, and I have to say that things have improved exponentially as a result, for me and for the boys.  I'l talk about that tomorrow...

What else makes me feel better when I'm sick with a cold?

Oh, come on, I had to put in a picture of something...  and they are exceptionally cuddly when any of us is sick...

So much material...

So little time - seriously, it's after 8pm and pitch black outside, and although I spent the better part of my day on the computer, I don't have a real blog post prepared.

My computer work included installing Windows 7 on my Mac, then attempting to download AutoCAD 2011 to the Windows partition. I was stuck in an endless loop of "Please enter your email to activate your account" and, upon entering my email, being told that "this email is already active, please proceed", which returned me to the "activate your account" page again.

Hours, people, HOURS of looping, trying different things and always ending up in the same Catch-22 nightmare, until finally, I shut it down in a fit of pique. It was either that or smash my face into the screen.

Guess what?

Pique works.

Shut it down, turned it back on and damn if it didn't just load right up, all nice and proper-like.

So that was my Monday, with the addition of a 4:30am wake-up call (thank you Maggie) and a 6pm intensely sweaty cardio class... How was yours?

Dumb, dumb, dumb

raked leaves... arms numb.... can't.... type

must.... warn...... others

and just so it's not a total bust:

Even intense squirrel watching looks better with Hipstamatic...

I yam what I yam...

and sore is what I yam...

I've been exercising pretty regularly for a couple of years now, things like weights, yoga, pilates, walking - you know, all that stuff you're supposed to try to do and which I am finally enjoying, thanks to Sue and Lisa at Tread Powerfully.

Last Wednesday, I did a bootcamp/circuit kind of class, which included things like tossing medicine balls, countless pushups, jumping jacks, and chin-ups. I did well this week, better than ever, in fact.  Unfortunately, I think I've blown out my forearms.

Not sure if it's even possible, but since Wednesday night my arms have gone from dead weight to intensely painful and crampy.  No amount of stretching or massaging or soaking seems to help, and it's cutting into the rest of my life - hard to knit, hard to write, hard to walk the dogs, hard just to hold a hair dryer.

They look normal enough, my arms, which surprises me, because they feel like

So what's the moral of the story?  Don't work your hardest in case you hurt yourself?  Don't exercise beyond your comfort zone?

No, ultimately I think it's try your best, but keep lots of Advil - and wine - around for later.  Not at the same time, of course...

Fun? Wow!

I know, right?  Who are you, and what have you done with Deirdre?

But, I figure this won't be too much of a stretch, as I'm always knitting anyways.  This is just putting a deadline to it, which is fine.  What might make it seem nuttier is that I'm going to try to make 2 sweaters this month.  There we go... now we've moved to WTF?

Tanner has asked me to make him a sweater.  He has very specific ideas of what he wants, and I think he just realized that by having me make it, he can pretty much design it as he wants to.  It only took 17 years, but really, I'm not complaining (I complained vociferously yesterday, so I consider my complaint quota met... for a while).

We're going to use this:

Knit Picks City Tweed, which is a DK weight, so it's not bulky.  I'm going to use the pouch from the Wonderful Wallaby pattern, then finish with a zip-up henley kind of neck and a collar.  Oh, and the cuffs have to be TIGHT.  And long.

See?  Very specific ideas.

And since I'll be making something for Tanner, well, why not make something new for me?  Ben hasn't asked for anything, and I don't have any major Christmas knitting planned, so why not?

Why not use this:

which I bought at Rena's Yarn in Dundas (no longer there) probably 16 years ago (Tanner was in a backpack carrier as I recall), to make this:

Unbelievably, it's the yarn called for in the pattern ('Killybegs' by Carol Feller), and I have enough of it, so it's all rather serendipitous, quite 'meant to be'.

Of course, I'm hoping that it's meant to be this month, and am planning  to cast on both sweaters this weekend, while finishing up a couple of other projects that I'll talk about, maybe tomorrow.

Uh huh, that's right... fun?  Wow!!

Testing

Just want to see if I can post from my iPad, so I can keep this up while I'm in Wisconsin for Thanksgiving. Better post in the works, coming up later this afternoon...

Look, I'm doing it!!

Sure it's only two days in a row, but with the interest of Sandra and SuzannaBanana, I'll keep at it, I'm sure - thank you guys!

So, what's new around these parts?  One of the biggest things (literally) has been the almost year-long, still ongoing, renovation next door.  Immediately next door.  I have learned lots of valuable lessons during the course of the year, for example, construction workers seem to feel themselves to be above the bylaws that govern the rest of us (not starting work before 7am, not parking illegally, not blocking driveways for extended periods of time), and they don't take kindly to having those bylaws enforced (ask me how I know).

I've learned that there is no point in dusting with a project this size going on next door, as the dust makes it's way through closed windows and doors and is everywhere, all the time.  The noise is perpetual, whether from power tools, noisy trucks, or the workers themselves yelling at each other, often as early as 6:30am, and none of it ever achieves the status of 'background noise'.

I think ultimately I've learned that current and longstanding residents, in our case some as long as 40 years, have very few rights when confronted with a project like this, and that in the end, the rights belong to those self-entitled few who hold the purse strings.  Or their fathers, who really hold the purse strings.

Bitter?  Me?  Nah... I've just been living through this:

becoming this:

You can see the remnants of the original house, with at least double the width, and more than double the depth.

I know that, from my perspective, a word from the new buyers prior to starting construction would have gone a long, LONG way towards establishing a greater level of tolerance.  As it stands now, a few of us in our little cul de sac are now in a position of open warfare - well, okay, maybe mostly me - but it is ON. I gladly summon our useless city representatives - or less frequently, the police - to help maintain some semblance of order on the street, and have become virtually fearless when dealing with the workers themselves.

So, that's a little of what's new in these parts - there's been lots of much more positive stuff, too, but I was having words with one of the aforementioned workers this morning at 5:45am, and I needed to vent.

Tomorrow, we get positive!

Since I can't grow a moustache...

I'm going to try NaBloPoMo instead - I've signed up, I've committed to posting once a day through the month of November, so we'll see what happens.

It's a weird thing, me and blogging - I love to write - I have a certificate in writing, for Pete's sake - and am perpetually writing blog posts in my head.  Somewhere between my head and my keyboard, though, the spark dies.  Not sure why, but maybe this will help me get over it...

so here we go...

Guess what I did over the weekend?

Because apparently I don't have enough yarn that's been dyed by other people...

Well...

I guess if it's recommended by a doctor...

(seen at Cancun Airport, May 11, 2011)

True Confessions...

35 years ago, almost to the day, I skipped Grade 9 Home Economics to go downtown Hamilton with Mary Lynne Curtis and buy a Rush t-shirt I had been eyeing for some weeks. We got caught, and my 15th birthday was one of my most unpleasant, and yet memorable, birthdays on record.

Last night, in a circle-closing kind of thing, I went to Copps Coliseum with the boys and their dad to see Rush perform. Now, I've never been a serious fan, make no mistake, I just liked the t-shirt.

But in over 30 years of avid-concert-going, I will state here that last night's performance by Rush was the BEST show I've ever see. Bar none.

What do I like about Rush?

These are three regular but extremely intelligent guys, locally grown, with little pretension. There are no feather boas, no tantrums in hotel rooms, no obvious sex-starved groupies; just three guys who love to make music. They had no opening band, they played for three hours with a 20-minute break, and they looked like they were having fun doing it.

The highlight for me, apart from very entertaining videos that led into some of their most popular songs, was Neil Peart's drum solo. His drum kit is a beautiful thing - that's right, I'm waxing poetic about drums. But these are truly gorgeous: copper-coloured, rotating, dazzling drums. And what he does with them you feel in your stomach and throat - just amazing. I've always had a weakness for percussion, and this more than met my expectations.

I have never really appreciated Alex Lifeson's skill as a guitarist, but to hear him play an acoustic guitar solo leading into Closer to the Heart? I get goosebumps just recounting it.

And Geddy Lee - so his voice has mellowed some over the years, which for me is a good thing. But watching him completely shred the bass, while jumping around and looking, in all honesty, like a long-haired, sneakered teenager just having fun... well, it was inspired.

These guys know how to put on a show - a few special effects and pyrotechnics, but mostly relying on their own skill and showmanship. I am stunned by how much I enjoyed the show.

Do I love their music?

not 100% - if it's a song where I can't sing along or find a steady rhythm, not so much.

Would I see them again?

IN A HEARTBEAT!

Would I recommend them?

ABSOLUTELY - just bring earplugs (we didn't, and for being only three guys playing up there, it's amazing that I still can't hear out of my left ear).

So there you go - the circle of Rush... not a bad start to this new era of which we shan't speak - we shall simply call it spring, and speak of it no more.

WTF?????

Woke up to 4" of this stuff, two more have fallen since shovelling around 8am, and it is STILL coming down. No snow day for us, of course, which would have taken a little of the sting out...

I was so happy that the back yard had finally dried so no mud was being tracked in, and now we have to start all over again...

Spring, my ass...

Things I've Learned

1. Skunks don't hibernate. A life-long belief crushed in one night.

2. According to Ben, the smell of grilled cheese with a skunk overlay is what Chinese food smells like. Explains his lack of enthusiasm for it.

3. The smell of skunk permeates an entire house in no time flat, and lingers indefinitely.

4. Having your windows open in -5C weather constitutes sweater weather. And mitten weather. And hat weather.

5. As always, knitting to the rescue.

6. Digression: after a certain age, catching one's reflection looking down (as over a toaster) is absolutely the wrong thing to do.

7. Wine helps diminish both skunkiness and wrinkles/chicken neck which were obviously exaggerated while looking down over the toaster.

No pics because who wants to see an upside-down chicken neck?

red in the morning...

I know it doesn't bode well for the rest of the day, but it certainly makes for gorgeous sky-watching while having my coffee...

Nope...

Not a hostage hoping for rescue or ransom...

But an exercise in felting...

don't you love what we can do with sticks, string and a little hot water?

Bet you thought I forgot...

didn't you?

Well, I didn't, so nyah...

I am taking my time with this, because I forgot how much

I love the feel of sheepy wool (Bartlettyarns Fisherman 2-ply) and cables

with the perfect needles (Signature circulars).

So it's coming along, and since I don't think I'll be making baby things as in EZ's February installment, I'll hopefully finish this and some other things...