So Pretty! For ME!

Doodles for Charity: Pachamama
Originally uploaded by relentlesstoil.

Thanks to Keet for this beautiful drawing. I love it so very much.

In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, she offerred up 25 drawings to the first 25 people who donated at least $25 or the equivalent to an anti-hunger or anti-poverty charity of our choice. Since then, she's been working on these Doodles for Charity.

Not only are they all fabulous, but they're each personalized for the recipient; mine is Pachamama, the Incan incarnation of Mother Earth, chosen because of my dream and impending trip to Peru.

Go take a look at all of them, and if you're a LiveJournal denizen, watch for them as user icons.

Thankful

I am home now, and I am full, sated with food and drink. Full also to the brim with the love and companionship of family and friends. It's been a wonderful day, begun with parades and cinnamon rolls, culminating in several lovely hours spent eating and laughing with some of my favourite people on earth.

I am so lucky to have all that I do. Though sometimes I get caught up worrying about all those things I feel I lack in my life (*coughiPodVideocough*), it's great to have this day dedicated to gratitude (and to eating turkey) to remind me that - when it comes down to it - I have all the important stuff right here.

What more is there to say, except - of course - Happy Thanksgiving.

Have Faith, Gabrielle

While I was cleaning the kitchen this morning in preparation for our Thanksgiving weekend guest, I came across the old wooden shower curtain rod waiting to be recycled.

Please don't ask why it was in the kitchen - that is NOT the point.

Anyway, as I held it, I couldn't help thinking what a great fighting staff it would make. Since the kids were upstairs where they couldn't see me (and get any ideas that would lead to the breaking of lamps), I made a few thrust! parry! ho! moves and was overwhelmed by the desire to actually learn to fight with one.

I wish I understood why I never want to develop skills that could actually benefit me in today's world. Nope, I want to learn dead or not-widely-spoken languages (Gaelic, Welsh, Lithuanian) or to fight with swords and staffs (oh and maybe those cool Sai Gabrielle learns to fight with in the last couple of seasons. Yeah. those would rock.).

I think it's definitely time to get the Xena DVDs and start watching from the beginning.

Anniversary

Brand New '64 Dodge
- Greg Brown

Money comes out of Dad's billfold.
Hankies come out of Mom's purse.
The engine hardly makes a sound
even when you put it in reverse.
It's got a push-button transmission,hardtop convertible, 4-door.
It's November of '63
and the brand new Dodge is a '64.

And we're rolling slow down Main Street -
the asphalt and gravel crunch.
Church is finally over
and we're going to have our Sunday lunch.
And then I will play football
with my buddies down in park.
Later I'll dream about my girlfriend
as I lie alone in the dark.

She's got short red hair and blue eyes
and her swimsuit's also blue
and her little brother is retarded,
but Jesus loves him, too.
And Jesus loves our president,
even though he is a Catholic.
There's a lot for a boy to think about
as he walks along the railroad tracks.

And my sister won't get carsick
'cause we're going only half a mile
and the car still has that new car smell
and dad looks like he might smile
and the world is big and full of Autumn
and I'm hungry as can be
and we're in our brand new '64 Dodge
November of '63

Notes To Self

It's only 8:40 a.m. and I have a couple. Looks like it might be that kind of day.

1. It helps to focus on the physics of the splatter, admiring the pattern made by the coffee that exploded out of the cup you just dropped, rather than the big uncomfortable wet spot on the back of your leg. You'll swear less.

2. Please remember that a) the side curtain is open and b) the neighbours have people working on their house before coming out of the basement with no pants on (having put them in the washer so the coffee didn't stain them). Complete strangers don't need to see you in your underwear.

No Rest for the Restless

Oy. Sundays are supposed to be lazy, aren't they? Perhaps I will see that, one day, but this Sunday I worked it and worked it good. Put together a couple pieces of furniture (oh, IKEA, how *could* you short me two screws?), cleaned, shopped, cooked, did laundry, wrote (er, attempted to, at least) refrained from selling the kids... thank goodness that Stephen got home an hour ago from his weekend in Boston. I honestly don't see how single parents do it, though I guess if you don't have a choice you just do what you need to.

Now is the time for resting. My brain is mushy and spitting out the blah blah blah.

A Night of Music

This evening Sandy and I went to see a Tracy Grammer and Jim Henry concert. Unbelievably, though I've been in Seattle for nearly 6 years now, it was the first Seattle Folklore Society show that I can recall going to.

It was a great set, and Sandy enjoyed it as much as I knew she would. The set list was interesting in that there are some songs that I've become accustomed to hearing Tracy play, Dave Carter "classics" as it were, that she didn't include... "Gentle Arms of Eden" and "Mother I Climbed" among them.

While I was disappointed not to hear them as they are some of my favourites (and the ones I'm listening to, now, after the show), it makes me think that it's part of Tracy's process of discovering how to move forward in her career, not become simply a Dave Carter tribute show. I love her version of "Pancho and Lefty" and Slaid Cleaves' "Key Chain." And damn, but she has the loveliest voice.

Tracy and Jim have good stage chemistry together, but I can't help thinking, throughout their performance, how difficult it has to be to fill that role and to stand in that spot. Jim sings Dave's parts in many of the songs, plays the guitar and mandolin beautifully, but there is always a third presence onstage - not that it's a bad thing, but it's there. For those who know how much was lost with Dave's death, I wonder if seeing Tracy perform will ever NOT be accompanied by a wistful sadness, a reflection on how short and unpredictable our time on this earth is.

One thing I can say with certainty - that I only got to see Dave and Tracy play together once, and never in an imtimate venue (the one time was at Falcon Ridge Folk Fest, 2001), is one of my biggest musical regrets.

The Verdict

Oh.

My.

Gawd.

The movie was so very very very good. So VERY good. I turned to my friend William about halfway through and said "I want this move to never end." I loved it. I loved the story (yes, a LOT was cut, but what was left in was just what should have been), the casting (Krum! Cho! Fleur! Voldemort!), the effects (the Hungarian Horntail and the Mermaids were spectacular), and - of course - the Weasleys.

Fred and George, forevah, man. I'm just a Weasley girl, through and through.

T Minus 3 hours

... and counting, until I get to see The Goblet of Fire. WHEE! I'll report back, but don't expect me to be among those whose panties get bunched because Hermione wears pink. I think she looks just fine in the colour and, as the mother of a girl whose room is painted two different shades of it, there's NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! Mostly am looking forward to some Weaslies and my first glimpse of Voldemort.

Did I mention WHEE!?

Words That Bring the Tears

We had a lovely family evening; Thursdays are the nights we normally eat out, and our restaurant of choice is frequently Rositas, a yummy and uber-family friendly Mexican restaurant where we're on a first-name basis with a number of the staff. Sophie was full of chat and questions, Nathan and Stephen played table football, and I downed my margarita in no time flat. What's not to love?

Bedtime though, did have its drama, but not due to any family strife. No, Jack, Laura's beloved dog (On The Shores of Silver Lake) died, and Sophie wept the loud and bitter tears. I will say that the girl comes by it honestly; my tears were silent, but still they were there.

After I got her to calm down a little, I explained that she and I have what my friend Bonnie once referred to as "big feelings" and that she could probably look forward to a life time of crying at books, movies, dolphin shows, musical performances, parades, and particularly poignant Hallmark commercials (I do! I care enough to send the very best!).

But one thing I'm sure of: there is no WAY we're going to be reading Where the Red Fern Grows anytime soon.

P.S. Happy Birthday, Howard Dean! (grumble, unelectabe my *ass*, woulda shoulda coulda...)