dead mice

Jeff and I saw fourteen houses yesterday. I brought my digital camera and a notebook and kept notes so we'd remember which house was which: "Suspiciously friendly dog." "Beside co-op construction site." "Troll in garden." etc.

Hey, there's a steel drum band on the street across from our building. They started playing while I was typing this. Rehearsing or performing? This area's pretty dead on Sunday mornings, so I assume rehearsing. But I digress.

We've only been out twice with the real estate agent on house-hunting expeditions, but I'm already picking up some interesting bits of knowledge, such as:

- Jeff likes creaky floors. I hate creaky floors.

- A lot more people use Mac computers than I thought.

- A house can be too big.

- A house we'd normally think was pretty boring-looking looks great to us if it's on a street lined with mature trees.

One of the houses we looked had a dead mouse on the back porch. This was not a selling feature.

Hope you're all having a great weekend.




Links/News:

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Today's Blatherpics:

	Top of Roy Thompson Hall, which I can see from my home office window. The white dots are seagulls (not dead mice, sorry).
	View from our apartment.

guinea pig communicator

So I went over to my sister's for dinner last night while Jeff was out gaming with the guys. Annie and Sara were delighted to see me; they hadn't been expecting me until tonight, when Jeff and I usually come to Sunday dinner. I watched a bit of "The Weekenders" with them, a cartoon I like almost as much as they do. My dad records it on his VCR since they don't get the channel the show's on.

Annie immediately sat in my lap as soon as I settled on the floor, cross-legged. I love that. She does as if it's most natural thing, then leans back against me, or cuddles against my chest, pulling her knees up. It's all I can do to keep from wrapping my arms around her and kissing the top of her head over and over. Sometimes if she's distracted by the tv, I'll do it anyway. :-)

Just before dinner, Sara showed me some crafts she had made on her own, including a very cool-looking "guinea pig communicator" made out of cardboard and string and coloured construction paper. Annie just started piano lessons, and proudly played me the first piece she's learned, as well as a piece that she composed herself. Ok, so the piece was only about six notes long, but hey, she WROTE IT HERSELF! Not bad for a five-year-old. I was bursting with aunt-like pride. Holy cow, do I ever love those girls.





After dinner, Ruth and I drove downtown. We walked and talked, then settled in some big comfy armchairs in a coffee shop at Chapters (I had a nonfat Tazo Chai, she had water), went back to my place to hang out and talk some more. Neither of us remember me having a Raggedy Ann doll when I was little, by the way (see yesterday's photo), but Ruth had one. We concluded that I must have grabbed the doll away from her before the photo was shot, hence the smug look on my face. :-)

Looking at houses all day today with our real estate agent. I suspect the houses will all start to blur after the first few, so I'm bringing a notebook and my digital camera. Wish us luck.





Links/News:

One year ago, I was thinking about what it meant to be Japanese.

Two years ago, I bought comics.

Three years ago, I had no chocolate in my apartment.

Four years ago, Allison, Jodi, Rand & I visited Adam at Darien Lake.

Hayao Miyazaki's "Spirited Away" is in the theatres! Can't wait to see this. Here's a review from Nando Times, for those interested.

Glad to hear that the plagiarism suit against J.K. Rowling was dropped. Apparently another children's author, Nancy Stouffer, accused Rowling of stealing her ideas. The court ruled that Stouffer "perpetuated a fraud" through her false testimony and submission of falsified evidence.

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Today's Blatherpics:

	I took this photo of Ruth when she was still in high school, I think. Part of my Family Photo Archiving project (gradually scanning favourite photos into digital format).
	An interesting-looking car that Jeff and I passed on Front Street a few days ago. Anyone know what kind it is?
	Annie playing the first piece she's learned in her piano lessons for me.

rock collection

So I've been looking around my small but well-stuffed home office and thinking about all the junk in our locker and dreading the day we actually have to start packing it all up. The idea of moving to a nicer place appeals to me, of course (else why move), but I hate the moving process itself.

Some people like moving because it gives them a chance to start from scratch, to purge junk, to plan their new space with a clean slate. Me, I just want to get it over with. I've always been a packrat, and hate throwing things out.

Part of this is because of the "waste not, want not" mindset learned during childhood. My family wasn't poor, but neither were we rich, and we learned how to make things last. I think that part of my packrat mentality is also because I tend to be overly sentimental about inaminate objects.

When Sara and Annie were younger, for example, they would often pick up things on our walks, like weeds or rocks or fallen pinecones, and give them to Jeff and me.

"This is a present for you, Auntie Debbie," Annie would say, laying the rock in my hand reverently. "I picked it out just for you." Utter sincerity and trust shines from her eyes, and I'd take her special gift, tears brimming up in my own eyes.

When I get home, I'd unload my gifts onto the dining room table.

"What are you doing with all those rocks?" Jeff would ask.

"Sara and Annie gave them to me."

"Oh." Jeff always understood. I'm sure he has his own special rock collection.

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I made pancakes for Jeff and me this morning. I used an Aunt Jenima mix, but at least I used the kind where you have to add an egg and milk instead of just water, giving me the illusion that I'm cooking something almost from scratch. For me, pancakes are just a handy sponge for maple syrup. I adore maple syrup.

We used to live across the road from some dairy farmers who made their own maple syrup the old-fashioned way. I loved going over when they were in the boiling off process (or whatever you call the stage where the water is evaporating from the collected sap).

I also loved reading about maple syrup candy in the Little House On The Prairie Books, how Laura and Mary would pour the hot syrup onto the snow and then eat the resulting maple candy. We used to tried this as kids but it never did work; inevitably the syrup would disappear into the snow and we'd have to comfort ourselves by licking the syrup-flavoured snow. Now, I realize that the trick was probably to boil the syrup until it was thicker. Maybe I'll try that with a niece or nephew someday.





Links/News:

Yay, looks like J.K. Rowling has almost finished the fifth Harry Potter novel, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, according to
this TimesOnline article. Reason for delay: writer's block and a pregnancy.

TimesOnline also has an interesting article about the changing reputation of comics. "Once considered the exclusive realm of juvenile escapism, the comic book and graphic novel now harbour artists who are upending expectations with work that is nuanced, literate and decidedly adult."

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Today's Blatherpics:

These photos were scanned as part of my Family Photo Archive project.

	My mom.
	Me, age two.

blur

Jeff and I are meeting with our real estate agent tonight, and checking out more places this weekend.

After a while, the houses all begin to blur together. Living rooms ... bedrooms ... basements ... backyards. Even apart from the potential of moving to a new home, it's fascinating from a people-watcher's point of view, to see so many different personalities expressing themselves in style of home, furniture, lawn decorations.

We're still not entirely decided on whether we want to move into a house or another condo. We like the idea of living in a house, but are we really prepared to cope with maintenance and other hassles that go with it? Will our neighbours drive us nuts? Will we drive them nuts?

We've only been on one house hunting expedition with the real estate agent, however. I suspect the one this weekend will help make up our minds.

I'm starting to revise my novel, reading through the entire thing, fixing plot inconsistencies, editing and revising. I find that I get the most work done on it offline, where I'm not tempted to pick up e-mail or check to see if anyone's posted in Blatherchat or posted any LOTR report comments.

My favourite place to write is in coffee shops, mainly because they usually have comfy chairs but also because I like the noise and action around me. Sometimes I just order a coffee or latté but don't drink it, just setting in nearby to prove that yes, I did order something so I'm allowed to sit here. I bring noise-blocking headphones and put on some Kim Robertson harp music to help mask out whatever horrible muzak is playing on the speakers. Yeah, I know I just said I like working in coffee shops because of the noise, so why the noise-blocking headphones? I like the noise and action, but I don't like being able to distinguish words of conversations going around me, if that makes any sense at all.

Sent out two more queries, sent in my article and photos for Country Connections magazine, continuing work on two consulting jobs re: online communities, continuing to work on my novel. I love my work; I could do this forever.

Links/News:

One year ago, I started fiction writing again, the first time since the whole Inkspot adventure.

Two years ago, I was being teased about my Canadian accent at work.

"Spirited Away" debuts in North America on Friday after smashing box office records in Japan. (Reuters)

dragonfly run

Yesterday, I took the subway to meet my friend Cathy for lunch, and I decided to release a book in the subway car: John Grisham's The Brethren. After I surreptitiously left a book on one of the seats, I moved to another part of the subway car just before a horde of lunch hour types boarded the train. A woman sat in the seat I had just left, noticed the book on the window ledge beside her.

I felt like I was at the cottage after having left a peanut out for a chipmunk, and was hoping it would take it. And she took it! Flipped through a few pages (not sure if she saw the sticker in front), started reading, and ended up taking the book off the train with her. Yay! It's true that I will never give away any of my most-loved books, but I do have a huge pile of books that I've read once or attempted to read once and will likely never read again. I am going to do some massive purging before we move anyway, so at least this way I'll get extra pleasure out of it.

I think I'll stick to releasing books in the subway rather than outside; people are less likely to be revolted by the idea of picking up a discarded book. Who knows why that book might have been left on that newspaper stand? On a subway, everyone's desperate for reading material (at least everyone who isn't dozing fitfully, their heads knocking painfully against the window or their neighbour's knobby shoulders). The trick is to leave the books without anyone looking, else some helpful soul might run after me, thinking I've forgotten it.

Our search for a new home continues. Because we're not in a particular hurry to move but are actively looking, it's possible we may not move for many months. Then again, we may buy a place next week (there was a non-zero chance we might have bought a place on Monday, but we decided to pass). Or we might decide that it's not worth the hassle, and to stay where we are forever.

I'm much more conscious of our neighbourhood whenever I go out these days, knowing that there's a good possibility we may be moving out of it. I've decided to start keeping track of what I'll miss and what I won't miss.

Something I won't miss: Dodging around smokers on the sidewalk when I run. Yes, I know that I'll find smokers everywhere, but I suspect that the concentration is much higher downtown. Sometimes I'll run along Front Street on my way to the Martin Goodman Trail and it'll be like running through the smoking section of a bar, especially if it's at the end of the day. *koff *koff...

Something I'll miss: The convenience (depending where we move). Everything's within walking distance: bookstores, coffee shops, grocery stores, movie theatres, live theatre, symphony halls, restaurants, video rental stores, interesting shops. From a tourist perspective, we live within minutes' walk of the CN tower, Skydome (my health club's in the Skydome), Air Canada Centre, Hummingbird Centre, Hockey Hall of Fame, Roy Thompson Hall, Princess of Wales theatre, Royal Alexandra theatre.





My mutant bananas still haven't ripened. Still no reply from Grocery Gateway, either.

Parki came over last night for dinner and three episodes of The Sopranos (thanks again for the loan of the DVDs, Scott!).

Finished The Hobbit, loved it! Starting Lord of the Rings now. See my reports.

A year ago, Jeff and I finally got home from Japan after 9/11.

Two years ago, we were keeping in touch via Kritter Cameras. Man, I remember how much I missed Jeff back then, when I was living in Philly.

Five years ago, my Sea Monkeys were dying.

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Today's Blatherpics:

	Every time I go for a run, even on exactly the same route, I find something new. This dragonfly art was embedded in a driveway.
	Thanks to ScottM for giving me this souvenir Papal Mass Pass, leftover from World Youth Day.