International Ginger Kids

What the heck? I was just in the middle of mentally preparing for a new blog entry summing up events of the past few days. I wanted to visit the International Ginger Kids site, seeking support for my soul-less condition. It's gone. Replaced instead with links to links about things that have nothing to with the biting and soul-less nature of ginger people. If anyone out there in webland can get me hooked back up with the organization, please help. Ginger people must stick together as we're a dying breed.


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Bad Taste Beautifully Rendered

This came to me today. It's delicious.

March 26th

I really wanted to go skiing today but reason kept me home. It rained hard and snowed here this morning which made not going more difficult. Conditions on the mountain were perfect at 25°F and snowing. I went to Lynden instead and got layer mash for the hens. They do not care about skiing, they were cold and hungry, standing against the fence near the corner of my office. And now like a bad relationship, the sun is out, acting like none of it happened.

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Human Behavior

Major breakthrough today. I finally worked my way across my studio to the press. I have been trying to get some stuff made for the market which opens shortly and I just haven't been able to do it. I procrastinate like a pro as the deadline draws near.

Coming back to it finally, I find I am liking all these pieces that have been developing over time and editions. I have better perspective on the work now that I have been away from it. I still can't find the right cover material for the big journals, I ordered some new stuff from my guy in LA but it isn't right. I will use it somewhere of course. Maybe as flysheets on some smaller journals. I started with the Garden Journals. I have a new text block design for them. I am also going to include in the page count, a few clean white sheets for drawing on, in addition to the black photo pages.

Had a pretty nice weekend up on the Sunshine Coast. Was a good family scene complete with a little shit being stirred up by the inlaws. Good humor prevails and I always come away feeling inspired by all involved. So interesting, being human.

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The Church of Family and Nature

As many of you know I am not religious, in fact I am the opposite of religious. Regardless of this I do like Easter. As a kid I never understand why Good Friday was good after my mother explained it to me in the car on the way to the ski hill. Nature was our church and we worshipped every weekend. We are with Mark's sister for the Easter holiday this year and it's highly rejuvenating as any celebration of rebirth should be.

This weekend the plan is to eat, walk on the beach, sew and talk, talk, talk about everything (restaurants included). There will also be pool playing and harbor watching. So much to do at the Church of Family and Nature where we celebrate these most ospicious days. We may even do a little sinning just to make the whole thing legit.

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Another Wednesday

I actually dreamed about the restaurant last night. At least I dreamed I was seeking permission and information from a sage in the field. A local man who is associated with food and who I perceive to be a successful foody. I had spied a small space to rent underneath the stairs of his popular restaurant. He vetoed the idea. I was not deterred and continued thinking about other possibilities. Woke up feeling good.

I needed a little break this afternoon so I did some gardening in the pouring rain. I transplanted a poorly sited Azalea, and gave all the flowering shrubs a nice drink of fish fertilizer. I got quite a bit done in about 45 minutes.

My remaining rooster Gloria does not posses the most pleasant crowing repertoire. I miss Oscar's voice. He was handsome and a good crower. Perhaps this is my punishment for offing him.

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My Beautiful Dream

Lately I have been considering career options. Last week I considered giving up my plush carefree graphic design career for the more mellow introspective profession of grave maintenance specialist. I had a hard week and all the coming up with new graphically pleasing layouts and sophisticated color choices had me really worn out. I love what I do but it sucks me dry at times. I dream of doing something that no one notices, this is how I arrived at grave maintenance specialist.

On the other hand, I drove by the now deserted El Whatever It Was Restaurant on Main Street in Everson. I have never eaten there, it has been a bunch of different places in the 14 years that I have been here. I drank in the bar once during a previous administration. I remember it was really blue in it's vinylness. It made an impression on me. Driving past I was reminded of my beautiful dream to own a restaurant. Of course if I say this out loud to anyone who is paying attention they will immediately try and talk me out of it and it works. I am 44 and I do not own a restaurant but it is a thought which comes to me often.

I am not sure if this is a dream I should pursue or if it is just one of those things that I pull up to distract myself from the multitude of tasks at hand, like thinking about winning the lottery. I like playing that game too, what would I do if I won the jackpot. I never take the step to buy the lottery ticket so there is a good chance that I wont open the restaurant either but you just never know. I remember when I lived in LA and was married to someone I didn't respect, I had this dream to move to a little farm in the country near my family. We know how that turned out so maybe the restaurant thing could happen.

If it fails I can always fall back on the grave maintenance specialist thing.

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Don't Fear the Rooster

Let's see, how best to describe the week that was? I was a bit under the gun and irate was with me and I had a few really odd angry moments. I also had some really deeply relaxing and pleasant moments. Monday I ran around the little cemetery in Nooksack while Pearl attended dance class at her school next door. I studied the headstones, even cleaned up one or two of them up when I saw that moss had begun to inhabit the engraved names and dates. The spot where the cemetery sits is secluded, above the Breckenridge Creek, it faces south east. The clouds were rolling around, the rain was intermittent. Occasionally a tear would develop in the clouds and the sun would appear. I considered reserving a plot and thought about what my headstone might say.

Had some bad dreams that night. Mostly about death.

Tuesday was uneventful. I got in 10 billable hours, pretty good for a school day.

Wednesday the rooster jumped on me when I leaned down to pour the grain into the feeder. I stood up, kicked at him, yelled a few very colorful obscenities and called my new friend Ralph, the taxidermist. He came over later that day, around the time the chickens have tucked themselves in for night. Ralph and I stood and chatted casually as he emptied the roosters lungs of air. I watched him draw his last breath and gave Ralph a dozen eggs for his trouble. My only regret, when the rooster is returned to me in his stuffed state, will be that I didn't like him more on a personal level, but god he was gorgeous.

You Eliot!

So Eliot Spitzer, the modern super hero, ex attorney general and current governor of New York is in the soup today. This man who supports gay marriage, who brought down the Gambino family, who took on white collar crime like a caped crusader has apparently visited the dark side.

Can you say prostitute?

With his wife of 21 yrs at his side he admitted his transgression and is now probably sleeping in his own guest room if he wasn't already. I suspect he was. These guys who are in these crime fighting, world changing professions might have a little trouble settling down into an intimate moment with their long suffering wives. They still care for and revere them and in a way you can almost overlook the thousand dollar hooker when you consider the alternative. An actual affair where he falls for someone else and commits adultery is much worse. Engaging a prostitute just says I want to get off and I am tired of doing it alone and this is available to me. Decision made.

I just love how the world works with all it's rich pageantry of cliches in every shape and size. I really wanted to like Eliot Spitzer, he seemed like a real white night but his brave crime fighting super hero days may be numbered. On the other hand, Americans have short memories, lets hope Mr Spitzer's wife does too. Whatever he had done I hope it was really good and worth potentially losing his entire life over. Stupid move for such a smart ambitious guy.


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Friday Finally

Up at Mark's this friday. Hunkering down on the hi-speed, several jobs to finish up today. Eddy is off at day camp. He goes out on Fridays from 9 to 3 or so. I got him up at 8 and gave him his juice and instant coffee, cooled with an ice-cube. He asked me, as he often does, where we were. I told him he was safe at home in his bed, in a condo, in Abbotsford Canada, with me and Mark. I said we are neither in Paris nor on a boat. He seemed happy to hear this but I could tell he wasn't totally comfortable with the answer. I went out and came back a few minutes later and he asked if he had been having mental problems. I said, not mental problems but memory problems. I said dementia. Not sure I have told him so directly that he suffers from dementia. At breakfast he told us that he felt lost. Of course this idea hits you in the gut hard because it has to be so scary to feel lost in your own life. Mark cheerfully interjected that Marcel Gagnon had called and Eddy immediately responded how nice it was that Marcel Gagnon, his once salesman at Paulie in Montreal—still thought of him. And then we all felt happy again.

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My Wish for Hillary

I want to be on record as saying I support Hillary for President. I will not sport a bumper sticker, I may not attend a rally so pay attention. You heard it here first. This is my second Presidential election since I became a naturalized citizen in the US and I'm pretty excited to exercise my right to vote.

I have a wish for Hillary if she is going to be President. She needs to work a bit on her image, this is obvious but there are subtle things she needs to do. She needs a softer hair-do. Something to add a little mystery to her otherwise stricken expression. She needs to work with a voice coach as Margaret Thatcher (can you say Battle Axe?) did. Her voice was deep and soft, almost masculine, and comforting. Hillary is shrill and the harder she pushes the shriller she becomes. She needs to wear some clothes that she feels comfortable in. Work clothes. Stretchy corduroy pants, not too tight in the ass. She always looks so sucked in and erect. At best her attire lacks personality in the way it totally desexes her. She's a stalky curvy force to be reckoned with but she needs to cut it loose a bit, buttoned up mans world image be damned. It's hard to connect with a woman who looks like this.

So soften up Hill! Relax your face, engage your pelvis, show some cleavage and express your authentic self. We deserve that.

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15

Yesterday around dinnertime Pearl informed me that, after careful observation of my outfit, I was dressed like a 15yr old. I looked at her and then at myself and noted that we were in fact wearing the same types of clothes. Jeans, t-shirt( I was wearing my hemp racer from Intertwined Designs), she was wearing her "I Hello Kitty New York", and hoodies. I guess I do dress the way I did as a teenager and Pearl at almost ten dresses the way she sees teenagers dress. Does this mean I am clinging to what she has not yet achieved? Or is the bigger question what is a 44yr old woman supposed to wear? If we keep evolving as women and changing our roles the whole mask of our costume changes. I think I prefer the simplicity of the blue jean clad 15yr old.

Tuesday

So I'm working on about 6 semi large projects at the moment in addition to my regular client work. The Farmers Market opens in a month and I need to get my butt in gear and start binding like a wild person. In order to keep all the balls in the air I follow a strict time schedule. This means I am not blogging so much but I am exercising regularly, taking time to cook good meals and getting plenty of sleep. My mental state is in tip top shape so I am going to permanently adopt this way of being. I think this is the payoff for getting older. You get to claim how you want to be. I want to be really relaxed and non reactive because that is how I do my best work.

I heard a great interview today with a chef, although I am not sure she classifies herself as this. She is a person who cooks. Her name is Ellie Mathews and she won a million bucks by creating an easy chicken recipe with stuff she had hanging around the fridge. Her manner was so relaxed and matter of fact about her accomplishments. She seems to be doing just what she wants.











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