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Unsettled weather: sudden cloudbursts and thunder, then sun and wind, then cloud again. The saving grace is that it's cool still. This would be unbearable in mug, and there's still a not-quite-headache hovering behind my right eye. Yesterday saw me back from acupuncture (the storm having happened while I was floating pleasantly in the comfy chair there) and suddenly falling asleep for several hours, which I never do unless drugged on anti-histamines or muscle relaxants and not often then.

Have been reading various people talking about Fates and Furies, and what so many of them say is that marriage is *difficult*. It takes *work*. It requires constant attention. And I wonder-- at a conservative estimate, 75% of the world is married in one way or another. Do they really have to work so hard to stay in that state? I wouldn't have thought 75% of the human race had that amount of energy.
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Nice day, nice weather, sun and wind, great cumulus clouds from a Baroque painting at evening. Tell you, Pride weekends are different than in my youth: though the crowds downtown probably sizzled in the sun, it was a low 70sF sun, not 95 in the shade.

Walked to coffeehouse and supermarket without excessive twinges. Ate an ice cream cone. Read a Gaiman-edited anthology.

Last night ate a Juicy Burger at an Annex institution, By the Way, still there after 40 years though the service is at least faster these days. Their Cosmopolitans are larger and cheaper than at my raucous regular, their burgers no more expensive and chips better, and their decor is infinitely preferable to Pauper's patterned carpet and booths and spots TV. By the Way redecorated recently and no longer have the dark wooden tables and chairs that hold some of my happier 90s and oughties memories- as seen here if you click enough- but the mural remains, with its portraits of bygone Toronto celebrities, seen to better advantage here. Afterwards I went and bought Holmes pastiche and Conan Doyle weird tales at BMV and it was all very time-travely to an early part of the decade that we are somehow in the last years of: and when did that happen?


Jun. 22nd, 2017 09:25 pm
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Just as LJ occasionally logs one out for no reason, so it arbitrarily ticks the "View all journals and communities in my own style" box under Display. Have unticked. Shall see what difference this makes on my phone; must say that my own style loads a lot faster than the RSS feeds that FB- arbitrarily again- converts selected LJs to. For no reason: they aren't feeds at all.

Good day

Jun. 21st, 2017 09:58 pm
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Inevitably, perfect days this summer (which I know has technically only just begun, but that's not how it works in reality) are followed by forecast rain and thunder. Mind, this summer even rainy damp days are followed by forecast rain and thunder. It is a wet year. But I shall note that today was a perfect summer day, blue skies, white clouds, cool wind and warm- OK, hot- sun.

I serendipitied into two pairs of good pants at Suzy Shier, not a store I'd ever buy at because I don't fit women's sizes. But they have a small line of plus, and they had two black rayon 2XLs for very little, so now I'm set for everything but the hottest weather. Their 2XL is actually a mite too large, which is heartening, because I can't wear the general run of women's XL; and anything that lets breezes blow about one's limbs is to be encouraged.

Did a wash and hung it on the line and it dried in no time and only the pants had bird poo on them. Win! Tackled the hedge finally, which is now a lot lower than it was, though no healthier on my side. Vast forests of dead wood. Had I a good electric saw or trimmer I'd take the dead bits out and replant, but this will do for the nonce. And finally repotted the philodendron and added the cuttings that have been sprouting in water for more than a year. We shall see if they survive.

So a good sweaty healthy day, and now for a hot shower and hair wash.

(Oh, and LJ on my phone has everyone in my own style. I'm fond of my own style for me, but seeing everybody against a pink background is disconcerting.)
Reading )
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It may be Midsummer's Eve but it's pretty dark at 9:15. Can't believe that 25 years ago I was painting porch rails at this hour. Then again, cloud and rain do that to an evening. A good night to be in with mysteries and tea.

It seems the patchy blisters on my right hand- but only the right hand- that appear every summer and vanish every fall, are eczema. Always thought that was bumpy and red and now I know better. Have heavy-duty cream to deal with it, or will have when I pick it up from the pharmacy.

Up too early for complicated reasons having to do with turning phone off so I wouldn't be woken by expected incoming text. Mothers are not allowed to sleep like human beings so yes, glad I wasn't woken at 7:15 and got that extra half-hour's sleep before Sense of Duty woke me instead.

On and off cool grey rain showers amid blistering sun in this oddest of changeable Junes. At least is not a heat wave June: a day or two and then revert to the autumnal mode: which I don't remember when the heat returns.
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A number of people seem to have had broken nights last night. The current weather doesn't help on the sleeping front, but neither does the vague but persistent daycare malaise. When Daycare Hugh said 'It's been over a week and I still haven't got my appetite back' I didn't realize that means 'It's been over a week and I'm still vaguely queasy all the time'-- even though I didn't have the stomach version and he did.

Am informed that too much ginger causes rather than cures intestinal upsets, which may be a factor. OTOH I've returned to a weight unseen in fifteen months and have cut my anti-inflams to less than half the usual dose.

Current Gallagher has, as ever, married people who cannot keep it in their pants: small towns are indeed a hotbed of adultery and vice. But has also a dotty English family of the Cold Comfort Farm variety, which is a happy change. Also has a trope of the sea rising up and drowning us all etc etc, which in this high water summer, when beaches and Islands are closed because of flooding, is a bit too close for comfort.
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My cell phone took itself into reboot mode last night when it was supposed to be innocently charging. Controlling my techno-panic, I googled on the desktop and managed to get it out of reboot mode. Mind, google wasn't that much help. 'Press the power and volume buttons simultaneously.' Does anyone tell you where the volume button is on an android? Not a hope, only how to use it to take videos or turn the phone on and off. I had to assume it's the only other thing that moves, and so it proved. Have I ever used it for volume control? Never- because I didn't know that's what it was.

Hottish day with thunderstorms, spent not unhappily in the side bedroom with the fan and a Ruth Gallagher. More of same tomorrow.

Acupuncturist recommended adding turmeric to my ginger tea to combat inflammation. To me, turmeric always has a suffocatingly dusty taste. But the Chinese greengrocers have fresh turmeric and I bought some today on impulse and chopped a little into my afternoon tea. Suffocatingly dusty taste and disagrees with me; also stains fingers yellow. Besides, I'm out of acacia honey; the unpasteurised stuff I bought at the health food store is overwhelming, and the linden honey I bought at the super is 90% crystallized, so I am displeased on that front. But the linden does well enough until I can get down to St Lawrence Market for the real thing.
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Either I've got used to the noise my computer makes or it's stopped making it. Hard to tell with all the other ambient noise (its usual airplane taking off sound, the table fan, the lawn mowers in the neighbourhood.)

I rarely used my dryer because it wouldn't dry heavy things, but the stuff I did dry was OK. Workman replaced the vent hose in January. Just recently I've discovered that stuff I dry and leave in the dryer overnight or for a day or two comes out smelling odd. Stuff I take immediately from the dryer is OKish. On the off chance that it's actually the washer to blame, I'm running a hot water and bleach cycle through the thing. If there were fabric softener sheets that didn't give me headaches, I might start using those, but there aren't. The clothesline will be unusable for the next six weeks or so, so this is a bit of a problem. Sheets and towels I will entrust to the untender mercies of the laundromat, underwear and tank tops I can hang from the chandelier (truly: on those Asian hanging wheel things) or over the banister; but give us mug and neither of these last will work.

My sense of smell knows when I've worn a set of clothes before, even if they remain clean. One can't hang all one's trousers over the banister until needed again (for one thing, the wash is hanging there.) So I shall cover the- to me- obvious odour. Bought a cake of Dr. Bronner's lavender soap, which is currently scenting my t-shirt drawer. Shall saw it in quarters and distribute around the pants and sock drawers and hope that works. If I ever worry about having Alzheimer's, I can reassure myself that my sense of smell is getting better, not worse


Jun. 14th, 2017 08:01 pm
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Computer is making a new and by definition worrying noise. Knees that barely twinge at home twinge desperately at work. Three hours of same makes me tired and light-headed. Back hurts and I can't seem to unkink it for all my stretching.

On the upside, came in from playground and said to staff, 'Among the many things this daycare has swallowed is my black-' and got no further, because staff said, 'It's behind the water jug.' And there indeed was my black velcro brace. We 'r' psychic at work, or that staff and I are, because she always stops mid-sentence for some reason. As earlier: "Did you tell--" "Yes, I told J's mother he's out of formula." It's like being with family.
Wednesday again )
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The cherries must be ripening where I can't see them, because the birds are having a feast out there. Or maybe they just like unripe cherries.

I thought the massive quantities of dust in the house were due to the heating vents not having been cleaned in a decade. But the heat's been off for a month and the elephants are still there. Filled two canisters worth just vacuuming the study, hall, and bedroom, and am now itchy-throated as a consequence. I guess it blows in the windows, front (where there's a street, granted) and back.


Jun. 12th, 2017 09:44 pm
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A day indoors with fans and books and little food is all very well, but by evening I was ready for at least a bike ride. Then looked out the back and got gardening gloves and clippers and hacked two bags worth of invasive vines and creepers from the end of the yard. Then had a shower in my camisole-bra because I'd have to rinse it out anyway. It will be dry by Thursday, I suppose.

Luckily I have Gatorade for this evening's lost water and salts.
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Yes, it was the daycare malaise, both varieties. Fingers crossed, but ginger tea and honey seem finally to have calmed the area. (They tell you stay hydrated and then say water isn't the best way to do it. And what is, may I ask? Evidently, ginger tea.)

And I've dropped two kilos, for what it's worth.
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The "College of Early Childhood Educators" (sic) (or in Dorothy Parker's phrase 'sic as a dog') is a government-supported cash grab by a bunch of people who think a professional disciplinary body is necessary for care-givers. They don't advocate for us or for better daycare funding or anything like that, god forbid; they impose fees and fines and requirements and demand $150 annually for the privilege of being our overlords. Nor can they be arsed to send out renewal forms to their members. 'You can download and print the form from our site' ie *you* pay for the paper and ink and stamp, $12.50 an hour peon. 'Oh but you can complete the form and send it to us as an email attachment!' Yes well, I did that, and they wrote back that the form was blank. Checked my sent email, and yes, by golly, so it was. So refilled and saved and checked for sure that the form was complete. And back they come telling me my form is still incomplete but will not say how. Checked email again, on my phone, with three different .pdf readers. And two say the form is filled out- and one says it's still blank.

I hate .pdfs and I hate CECE and if I needed any further impetus to retire, this would be it.
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I don't have the daycare malaise- touch wood- which is a good thing because it's intestinal and unpleasant and its side-effects last for weeks, but I have a malaise. So even though last night was ativan sleep on cool cotton sheets with a warm blanket, I've been tired and achy all day and am yawning at 9 p.m. Shower and beanbags and the window fan on tonight, I fancy.

(Brought all the standing fans up from the basement against the forecast highs of 33 and lows of 20 the next four or five days. Am distinctly not ready for summer.)
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Am not working much these days, now we have an influx of summer staff. This is good because my knees remain unhappy, including alas the one so efficiently cortisoned last month. And bad because work gives structure to my day and emotional payoffs. Ah well- what will be will.
Memeage )
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Should note the chill air blowing in on this brown evening, because heat will descend on us by week's end if not earlier. But it's still bedsocks and beanbag weather, and the side bedroom window closed. This feels medieval, because I think the middle ages all happened in grey and rainy fall, just as ancient Athens was all cool and blue and sunny. And the first, no doubt, has something to do with the wet fall of... '68, was it? and Greece comes from first reading Plato in September of '67. Even the chronic rain of the rest of autumn '67 couldn't erase the first stout Cortez experience, that got all mixed up with the September glory.
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Did nothing today, which should probably count as a Gratitude: didn't need to do anything today. Did walk to the coffee shop that, it turns out, only has meals on weekends, and then to the coffee shop that has a limited range of sandwiches. Walking being something I've done little of in the last two years, it's a nostalgic return to an earlier self, and I'd like to keep on doing it. Of course, in the current damp June, the twinges will recur.

If I'd got farther into Winterson's Written on the Body I'd have discovered that the narrator's sex is not stated. I assumed it was female because why wouldn't I, and abandoned it after a few pages because it seemed so much in that Lesbian genre of 'let me tell you how I'm helplessly in love with this woman who is fickle/ perverse/ distant/ ambivalent/ straight-up Bad News.' Sita, Nightwood, and possibly that triangle with Marie-Claire Blais which I read too long ago to remember. Thing being, do heterosexual women write like this about their torturing love affairs with no-good men? No names come to mind: the trope is common enough, alas, but a whole book devoted to the affair and nothing else?

And also, obsessive love is dull. Not as dull as jealousy (is why I'm amazed anyone can get through Proust) but pretty damned dull nonetheless. Yes, I've been obsessively in love. It was adolescent and melodramatic and not something I'd ever give the details of to anybody.
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Always a surprise to discover the sun still shining after 8 at night. The days grow longer quickly as one approaches the solstice, but they don't shorten as dramatically moving away. It's always the end of August that has me going 'What, dark already?'

Cool/ cold weather, but dank and achy with it. June; one must be grateful it doesn't broil. Still have sore throat and sore shoulders and incipient cough and feel invalidish.

Was forecast to rain all day, so I meant to stay in and read my Elly Griffiths forensic anthropologist book. Had forgotten that they're all written in present tense, 3rd person, which might up the suspense quotient except one knows the narrator will not die mid-book because the series is named after her. But this one turns out to be about child murders, for which I am not up. Library webpage said the previous book, about Arthurian doings, was in at the Gladstone library, so biked out there: to find it had been removed to fill a hold request.

So started a Mt TBR mystery, the first of the Cooper/ Fry procedurals. Diane Fry is even gittier in this one than in the following books. For someone determined to advance her career and make a good impression in this new posting, she sure sneers and snides at Cooper an awful lot. Makes for bleak reading.
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Rain gaiters were in some infant's cubby. Said infant's good-natured mother failed to remark on their presence.

Red-haired possibly Nfld cashier is actually from Ireland.

Reading Agatha Christie. I knew Sayers was anti-semitic, but Christie's version somehow went over my head when I read her in my teens.

The evergreen bush in front of my house was a low shrub 26 years ago. It's now a trifurcated spindly thing trying to reach the level of the porch ceiling and I just cut a third of it down.

Hard to tell these days if feeling generally lousy has a physical or a psychological cause. Trumpites stay happy because they don't listen to any news that would disturb their equilibrium.
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I love you, cold air blowing in the window. I love you, October clouds. Fall weather in early summer is like bacon and eggs for dinner: they're so much better than when served at the usual time.


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