Friday and what I crave

This week has gone by so quickly I can scarcely believe it’s Friday already.

I’m craving two things simultaneously: 

• A relaxing weekend in my sweatpants, spending quality time with my knitting and with the PVR and everything that’s been taping over the past month.

• Some time to work on the new novel, which lately, does not seem at all horrible and for which I have had a few interesting new ideas. I have an admittedly completely unrealistic fantasy of finishing it within a year, which really could happen if I just managed to spend some time working on it every day.  NB: this kind of self-delusion is the kind of propulsion necessary to produce a novel.

I’ve been feeling that change-of-season sense of creativity, of possibility. I want to listen to new music, read new authors, make something, do something.  But first…a nap. As soon as I get home please.

Oh! And last Sunday we finally made it out to the last day of Mosaicultures, an incredible exhibit on at the Botanical Gardens of Montreal. If you haven’t been yet, you should go…and I can say this now because they have extended it by a week! It’s on until this Sunday. Here's a photo before my phone died....I'll share some more when I get the photos off of my husband's phone. This was one of the smaller installations -- some were truly amazing.

last day of August

I’m not sure what it is... writing an email or a blog post feels inordinately difficult these days.

The summer has felt a little too quiet and inward, a little bit like I’ve been spinning my wheels on the writing front. I started working on a story that wasn’t working, then kept working it to try and finish a draft, convinced throughout that it wasn’t working…but that maybe I could go back and fix it?  And sometimes it does happen that things you aren’t sure about turn out later to be okay.  But not so in this case.

But the setting was beautiful, even if the writing was not.

        

    

Since I've been back in the city, though, things have been better. Old works-in-progress have been looked at, and I've taken heart from how much I like them. I've also been trying less hard to make the summer about work...and make it more about summer, with reasonable success. And there's still a couple of days left...

Knitaversary in North Hatley

What a lovely weekend.  My husband's parents were kind enough to let fourteen knitters (almost the whole group!) come and stay while they were away visiting friends of their own. We knit, walked, talked, and ate.  And ate.  There were three cakes, two kinds of muffins, beef stew, tortilla soup, croissants, cookies, chocolate chip pancakes, and tons of fruit, bread, cheese, and wine.  (As well as mulled wine and an inspired gin cocktail, thanks to P!)

There was also bacon.

Bacon on the grill!

My husband was amazed at how seemingly effortlessly and harmoniously all the food prep and cleanup seemed to go.  With fourteen kind and capable women on hand, I wasn't surprised, but it was wonderful nonetheless.  And A knew just how to perfectly clean a grill, even without a scraper.  (The secret ingredient is vinegar.)

Knitting in front of the fire.  

It was luxurious to knit in a room that held all of us comfortably (but still cozily)! Often we have to coordinate to bring chairs over to each other's apartments on knit night.  The resident speed-knitters K and J finished projects.  (Actually, I think a couple of other people may have as well.)  My hat grew an inch, but that’s about all I can say for it. Though  I've now added at least three more things I want to make to my what-to-knit-next-list.  There were also Tarot card readings and a fun game of Celebrity.

Snow-trudging in the round.

Sometimes it’s hard, with that many people around, to feel quite like myself.  But knitting is good for introverts.  I was also happy my knitting friends got a chance to know D a little better, and vice versa.  There was some teasing on the matter, but he did not in fact take up knitting before the weekend was over. 

Some of the photos below were taken by E and DD: 

Heading out on our cold walk before the sun went down. 

 (That's me in the red mitts.)

A photo from further out on the lake, where I didn't venture.

Paths and circles on the lake, heading out from the dock.

A. working on her circles.

Sunday was a beautiful sunny day.

Another season of the linden tree where D. and I were married.

I did bring three books with me (plus the one I'm reading on my phone), and I'm afraid I didn't open even one of them.  Nor my computer.  But for once I think that's just fine.

warm January weekend

The unseasonably warm weather is giving me an unreasonably joyous feeling of impending spring.  It’s eerie, but I’ll take it.  I finished my second-ever knitting project, this seafoam cowl in seed stich, just before New Year’s, and it’s too warm to wear it…but I’ve been wearing it anyway.

I finished something!

Another weekend came and went without any writing, but I was happy that I at least had a chance to finish (finally! after an unrelated reading distraction) the excellent Malarky by Anakana Schofield. 

Read it!

It’s really a stunning novel, and like many novels that end up wowing me, it gave me a few ohhh, you can DO that! moments.   Namely, the voice shifts between sections from first person to a close third and back.  But it’s not in the least confusing, and the novel benefits from having both at the disposal of the writer.  Highly recommended!

It felt like a quiet weekend, but it was really full of visits with friends and family.  On Friday night, we got to try la Salle a Manger, thanks to my brother-in-law and his wife who were visiting from Australia.  They took us out to celebrate our wedding, which they weren’t able to attend.  The food was yummy, the champagne was even better, and the company was warm and welcoming.  When D’s brother toasted us, I almost cried.  Maybe it was the champagne, but my heart was that full that night.

 Smokestacks on a Saturday night.

Saturday was brunch on the go and an intense afternoon nap, followed that evening by a friend’s lovely birthday dinner (I walked a different way and found myself disoriented along the overpass, pictured above, just a few blocks away from places I know well.) 

On Sunday, V got excited to make chocolate-chip pancakes, which she managed with minimal intervention (just D helping with the stove), and they were delicious.  More visiting with friends that afternoon (including a walk to Chinatown for steam buns) and in the evening, it was just cozying up on the couch and hanging out on Twitter while watching the Golden Globes and Girls. 

A beautiful light installation in Old Montreal. 

Wishing everyone a wonderful week ahead!  My goals this week are to catch up on email, spend time with friends, and maybe maybe get back to that story I started a few weeks ago.

a weekend away from the computer

A weekend away from the computer always feels strange, like I’ve forgotten to take care of something.  (Indeed, this feeling took hold as Sunday evening turned the corner into Sunday night and I felt as though there must be something...unfinished homework, unwritten essays, unsent emails...resulting in an uneasy few hours before I went to bed.  To tell you the truth, I still haven't quite shaken it off.)  But it was a packed weekend that still managed to be utterly relaxing.  We went to see The Hobbit, witnessed a kids’ limbo competition (V and N always seem to wind up in a dance showdown of some variety or other), picked up Portuguese chicken, and I had a chance to (almost) finish reading a book I started months and months ago. 

Best of all, K was also in town on her way to Ottawa, and we spent time catching up and post mortem-ing (um, it’s a word if I say so) our summer weddings, attending the sing-along Messiah at Christ Church Cathedral downtown, and drinking tea and playing recorder.  K reacquainted me with the fingering for some sharps and flats I’ve forgotten in the decade since I’ve picked one up.  She and B taught me a fiddle song, too.  

We also squeezed in a brunch at our favourite spot near my old apartment, where we were spoiled by the staff (mimosas for me and D, when they heard we’d gotten married, a fruit smoothie for V), and I managed to pick up some winter boots — very necessary as I’d thrown out my old, falling apart ones after I slipped and broke my wrist last winter.  Just in time, too, given today’s weather!

 With one snowfall, a whirl of winter.

 

what I want right now

I’ve sent in my final assignment and tonight I give my final presentation in my night class.  I’ve learned a few things…things I’m not sure I’ll ever use in a career context, but that’s okay.  But most importantly – no more homework!  I’d forgotten (how could I?) how unpleasant it is to have things always hanging over me, things that I really “ought” to be doing.  Because of course I already have too many of those self-appointed things already, and more important ones.  I really only like the ones I choose, and god knows, writing fiction is enough homework for anyone.  (But just in case I ever need to, I can tell you all about the challenges faced by internal communications programs and the importance of effective public relations for successful organizations...)  

The loveliest thank-you flowers

After tonight, my next step is to finish reviewing my copy edits for Bone and Bread.  Then I’m going to embrace the holidays as fully as I know how.  I want to see my friends.  I want to track down and watch the movies Tiny Furniture and Young Adult (a natural double feature, I suspect). I want to start making my way through the piles of books I’ve bought lately and start sharing reading lists on Goodreads.  I want to catch up on all the blogs I read.  I want to find new music and listen to the albums people have shared with me.  I want to hang out with my family.  I want to cook and bake.  I want to sit and drink tea.  I want to make plans for the new year.  (I’ve got a couple really good ones brewing, one in connection with, I hope, my knitting circle.)  

What do you want?

Cover love, ancient carols, and the holy baby Jesus

I was really overjoyed to see the response garnered by my cover here and on Twitter and Facebook.  A novel is such a long and solitary journey that it really is wonderful to be able to share a major concrete step along the way of it becoming a book.  It really does mean a lot to a writer to have a little cheerleading along the way! 

It has been another busy set of days.  My choir concert came and went, and I was so happy when it was over.  In all my semesters of being a member, this was by far the most chaotic – maybe because of the sheer number of pieces included.  I’ve never felt so unprepared, and I could hear from my own voice and the voices around me that we weren’t quite ready.  The sopranos were not alone in missing a bunch of entries.  Some of the strings were out of tune.  But my songs in the chamber choir performance came off without a hitch, and I didn’t do that awful thing that I’ve done every other concert – where I make a brand-new, horrible mistake that I’ve never once made before in practice.  So at least there’s that!

Interior of the lovely Saint-Enfant-Jésus de Mile End

(aka Holy Baby Jesus church)

It’s also nice to sing in a lovely, falling-down-around-the-ears church.  One of my favourite things we sang this year was Zadok the Priest.  I couldn’t tell from the title, but it’s a piece I once sang as part of a massed choir at the National Arts Centre when I was younger.  It’s strange and wonderful when the melody returns to you in a song you don’t consciously remember.  

Maybe the most beautiful of the songs we sang was Entre le boeuf et l’ane gris.  I love those old, old carols. 

Post-concert, we had beer and delicious Indian food and a gender-divide night with my in-laws, where the men watched the Grey Cup and the womenfolk dined at the table before delving into deep closets.  My mother-in-law was cleaning out her closets and hoping favourite outfits from decades past could find a congenial home. 

It was fun taking a trip down wardrobe history, but given my own pressing need to purge my closets, it may not have been the wisest idea.    But I did leave with an amazing collection of shoes and a purse I suspect will become essential.  I’ll share some pics when things are a little less crazy-busy. 

Next up: looming school assignments (somehow 60% of my grade has come down to the last 8 days of term…even though another 30% has yet to be graded), a birthday party, reviewing my copy edits, finally coughing up the dough to buy some winter boots (judging by yesterday's snow still clinging to the ground, I might have to do this imminently), catching up on emails (I hope), and rejoining a gym.  

Also, I should mention that if you are thinking of giving books for Christmas this year, you could scarcely do better than purchasing some homegrown Canadian literature from Freehand Books. (Mother Superior is in really amazing company at this press.) If you use the code freehand20%, it will get you 20% off.

things to be glad about

Life is a little too busy to allow myself to get worked up about not finding time for writing.  To misquote Radiohead, I did it to myself, and that’s why it doesn’t really hurt.  Three more weeks and my class will be over.  My choir concert (and the end of rehearsal for the semester) is in less than two weeks.  This last fact is rather alarming given that I have yet to master some of the runs in three of the movements of the piece we’re singing. 

 Glo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-rrr-ia!

On Tuesday, I got my first Christmas cup from Tim Horton’s, which is a small thing but one that always makes me happy.  

In the picture-perfect Christmas, there's always softly falling snow.  And a giant coffee.

 

I recently picked up some Chuck Taylors and some moccasins, and my feet, if not my outfits, are loving the flat shoes.  I can get everywhere faster!  I can run up and down the stairs of the metro!  I'm fast in heels, but I take pleasure in the extra spring in my step.  And I know global warming is bad, but I’m glad I’m still wearing sneakers even though it’s November.  Having to trudge through sludge in hot, heavy boots is the very worst part of winter.

It only took me 15 years to finally pick a colour.

I’m looking forward to friends visiting the city this month and next month, plus some other fun outings on the horizon, and the promise of eventually getting back to two three four projects on the go.  (Never mind the problem of picking one and sticking with it…that kind of glum reality has no place in my happy, forward-looking daydreams.)  I’m excited about holiday movies (The Hobbit!!!), new books to read, warm sweaters, listening to new music (any suggestions?), and finding time to cook.  I’m even excited about doing more decluttering and organizing at home, and giving away some clothes and even (maybe) some books, so that I feel less panicked and dragged down by all my belongings.  

Mostly, it’s nice to slowly start to emerge from the enforced solitude of writing and actually see and talk to people. 

Oh yeah, did I mention I finished my major edits?  All that’s left is the copy editing and the proofing!

how good life can be

The weather has changed here in Montreal.  Frost overnight, and hats and mitts are a must, though I still see people braving it out in layers of sweaters and leather jackets.  It is the season of cute toques and fingerless gloves.  Fur-flapped hats and fleece-lined wool mittens are still ahead of us.

Sometimes fingerless gloves are even required inside.

 

I am trying to live more in the moment and am probably mostly failing, although I am succeeding in moments here and there.   I am also trying to recognize certain patterns so that I can learn how to say no.  There is not an endless amount of time in the day.  Anything I take on in addition to work (evening class: I am looking at you!) is something that is going to take away from my writing, especially if it is accompanied by extra time commitments (homework, rehearsals, projects, interviews) that encroach on the weekend.  Things that actually make my life better: choir and knitting night.  Things that make it worse: take-home tests and freelance writing assignments involving anything besides books or fiction.  Going forward, I plan on organizing my life accordingly.  Free tuition and extra experience/income notwithstanding. 

Staying on top of everything that needs to be done doesn’t leave any time for living.  And that needs to happen, too!  Not just for me, but for the people I care about.  I need to leave more time for cuddling, cooking, laughing, listening, and planning.   Not to mention reading and writing. 

The other night I let go of the homework I needed to start, the emails I needed to send, the reading I needed to do, and the writing I hoped to get back to….and I spent time with my family, doing what they needed.  This is not such a rare occurrence that it needs to commemorated here (I truly hope!), but it was so enjoyable and so right that I want to remind myself of, well, how good life can be when you have time for it.   (I do recognize how bad this sounds….it depresses me to write it out that way, but this is the takeaway message.)

In other news, great news last night on the U.S. election front.  My favourite headline is this one from Jezebel:  

Team Rape Lost Big Last Night

juggling

I am still trying to strike a balance between writing about my life and my writing life, since they are so inevitably (hopelessly? thankfully?) intertwined.  Even when the writing is not happening, there is a corresponding anxiety about it not happening…that I’m not meant to be emailing prospective graduate students at my day job, or watching television (possibly true), or going for a walk at lunch time instead of squeezing in an hour of reading or writing (this one is truly a toss-up…healthy body/healthy mind and all that).  It’s a constant inner dialogue, and since so much of my time is spent trying to arrange or rearrange things in my own life to facilitate more writing, I can only conclude that this space is going to include some words about things that may not, on the surface, appear to be about writing.   

That’s a long disclaimer. 

If all this has a slightly panicked flavour, it’s because I’m doing a little more juggling than usual these days.  I’m supposed to be editing, but every day when I come home from work, the towering piles of boxes are beckoning me to do just one more.  Even leaving aside all the oh-so-necessary items* lurking inside them that I need access to, I don’t want to compromise our living space for any longer than I have to.  Of course, every opened box means finding space for the items inside --- no small challenge in our apartment.  And besides the novel, I have three other deadlines for Sunday and Monday (freelancing things, plus an essay I really want to submit to an anthology that promises to be exciting and excellent), which means buckling down, no Osheaga, no more unpacking even, for the next few days.   

Okay?  (Okay.)

I do, however, intend to fit at least one of these cones into my weekend, courtesy of Kem Coba, the magnificent ice cream place next door to my old apartment:

A trio of yumminess

*many of these items are of dubious necessity

Becoming a Maneki Neko

My recent silence here has not, sadly, been due to throwing myself wholeheartedly into editing my novel. Far from it. A few hours after my last post, I threw myself bone-breakingly down onto the snow- and -ice-covered sidewalk. And broke my wrist.

OUCH.

Anyway, since revisiting the pain increases the throbbing in my wrist, I will skip most of the details! But the upshot is that I now have an extension of a few weeks on my editing deadline -- a lucky thing since one-handed typing is not my forte and even starts to hurt my good hand after awhile. But this wasn't meant to be a catalogue of my woes (which, let's face it, in the grand scheme of things, are not so overwhelming). Actually, I wanted to share the one thing about my broken wrist that makes me laugh -- I feel like a Maneki Neko.




You know those Japanese lucky cats? If the left hand is up, it is supposedly beckoning customers. (The right hand up is for prosperity...though, presumably, so is the left....)










Due to the nature of my fracture, my arm has been casted with my left hand bent forward and to the left. And since I'm supposed to keep it elevated, I often prop it up in this position when I don't have it immobilized on a towering pile of cushions.

Come in, dear customer!

I'm feeling a little better on a day-to-day basis. With any luck, I'll be back to writing soon. At any rate, my new phobia of another sidewalk slip helps with the all-too-necessary writerly condition of being a shut-in.

Come in, inspiration!

managing expectations

The thing about Mondays seems to be managing one’s expectations. There is the thrill of upcoming plans (tonight: music and loved ones, tomorrow: drinks with a friend I haven’t seen in much too long, Wednesday: more music), the slight anxiety of conflicting commitments (two things scheduled for Saturday! Possibly at the same time! One in a far-flung corner of the city I’ve never been to before…), the looming freelance deadline square in the middle of the week when there is almost no time free to prepare for it, the allocation of lunchtime plans to exercise or errands or social calls (in this case, lunchtimes are given over to a dear friend recovering in the hospital across the street), the overly ambitious to-do lists that include pressing matters (the now-monthly and increasingly dreaded and despair-filled call to Bell to get them to adjust my service and billing as originally requested back in September) as well as items that have continued to roll over for weeks (make dentist and doctor appointments), along with all the regular stuff like buying groceries and making meals and doing the dishes and managing to get out of the door wearing two socks without holes in them (this last is only very occasionally achieved). Then there’s emails and texts and chats with friends. Then there’s worry and longing for people not seen in much too long, not to mention guilt over all those other ancient items on the to-do list that never quite make it onto the week’s menu.

And then there’s the writing. When to do that? Sigh.

If I expected to do it all, I’d be crushed by disappointment on a daily basis. But if I expect nothing, I achieve even less. All the writers out there with even busier lives (e.g. kids…gulp): I don’t know how you do it!