Frivolity

 A minor impatient rebellion by a few of my writers in my writing workshop yesterday. Demands to see their finished pieces published already. I took the requisite 24 hours before responding as my initial internal reactive one would have curled the hair on anyone's head. 

So I managed the reasonable, reasoned one a few minutes ago. Still calling them idiots but couched very prettily in one of those passive aggressive apologies. "I thought I had taken the time to explain the process in detail, I am so sorry if that wasn't the case."  (Note to readers: you see how imperfect I am.)

I read the rag of our local newspaper (on line) today, I don't do it often as it makes me grit my teeth. But I idly looked at my horoscope and it said:

So yes on the horoscope theme, I just finished "A Spool of Blue Thread" which was book club reading for this month. I see it has mixed reviews. I love Anne Tyler so admit to a bias. I would give it 5/5. It reads with extraordinary intimacy into a family. The secrets, the unspoken, the unresolved.

I've also nearly finished all the episodes of Season 5 of The Crown which, much like Downtown Abbey, one can't quite take seriously. The cars and frocks and sumptuous dinners and palatial residences and backbiting can't be beaten for their sheer entertainment value and re-creation. It must have cost a fortune to produce.

By Jove We Did It!

We had our first book club meet, M2M (mask to mask rather than face to face, ha!) yesterday. First one since January. Through some influence, the RCL in Holyrood (Royal Canadian Legion) gave us a huge room for free. So our chairs were miles apart and 12 of us showed up.

As there was no common book on the agenda, we discussed what we had been reading during The Covid, and writing down others' recommendations. Some brought books along to give away which was wonderful. I got two. I've been remiss in not posting my reads here for the year but will tackle soon. I've always kept journals of books read and am pretty meticulous about recording my ratings along with quotes that capture my attention and a summary of the book itself.

We managed to talk books for around two hours which was intellectually quite soothing and we all felt the better for it. We decided to approach the local golf club for our annual seasonal feast and see if they could manage a distant meal for us in December. A few of us tried to convince the club, yet again, to tackle Zoom, but the majority are still adverse opposed, not quite grasping that we can have a gatekeeper and they won't see guys jerking off on camera which seems to be the biggest negative. Any Zoom groups I attend have never had a breach of this kind due to gatekeepers.

Some pictures taken yesterday, there was a lone seal (your can barely see it) out in the water at Holyrood bay:

And I was intrigued with the colour of this new stone water breaker in a harbour on the same bay which went on into the horizon here:

Challenges

(1)I'm down with something. A bad cold, not quite ready to call it flu. I am susceptible to bronchitis so am keeping a close eye and ear on this thing. I did have the pneumonia shot earlier but not the flu shot. It's not that effective anyway. I'm about 5 days in, sleeping a lot when I'm not hacking a lot. A nuisance more than anything else.

(2)I'm sad about many blog friends either resigning from blogland or disappearing without notice. Far too many this year so far. Some leave in high dudgeon over slights and insults, others are ill and just about break my heart. Others grieve over losses and can't find the energy or inclination to post.

(3)Daughter is leaving the country tomorrow for nigh on 5 weeks. I'll miss her like mad. This digital age is useful for ongoing connections but the daily and physical contact can't be beaten.

(4)Missed my bookclub meeting today due to (1) and feel sad about that as I had thoroughly enjoyed the book and had made extensive notes on it. Remarkable Creatures A remarkable book about the discovery of fossils by two women and guess who got all the credit? According to the book reports posted online, all members loved it and had a great discussion. I know I'm extremely fortunate in my book club, we really stick to book discussions and host authors also.

(5)I keep close tabs on a friend with what looks like early dementia but I am feeling the strain. If I remind her of important facts of her life, the next time we talk she informs me of these same facts as if they just happened, forgetting I reminded her. She lives at a distance so it is challenging and sad. I'm unsure how to proceed if at all. Worried too in case she hurts herself. I gently suggested independent senior living to her and spoke of the advantages of not running a house anymore and getting things taken care of. She clenched on to that idea fiercely and I was so relieved. She kept repeating it to me and then wrote it down. I imagine she is very frightened but not sharing that with me, and who's to blame her. Her mother had early onset Alzheimer's so the gene pool is not favorable towards her. I reinforced that she is in charge of how she proceeds now. And no one else.

Sequel

One thing at a time, what?

My book club met yesterday, I wasn't too happy with the book we read . In fact I downright disliked its plotting, characters and resolution - if one could call it that as there was no conflict. I was pleasantly surprised that most of us present (17 out of about 28 members) felt the same, as I was first to go with my review. We're all sure it will be a movie as it reads like a bad film script and would be right up the more simplistic Hollywood's alley.

For an update on my reading this year, please go to my 2017 Books Read and Rated Link on the sidebar.

There have been more wonders than duds and for that I am pleased.

I'm also riveted on the Netflix series "Narcos" which is an extraordinarily well produced, written and directed history of the drug trade in Colombia interspersed with news footage of the actual personae involved. The one downside for me is that I can't knit throughout for the dialogue is mainly in Spanish with subtitles and subtitles and knitting don't mix, I'd need another pair of eyes.

My real estate agent and I are in sync on the sale of the house. I've now dropped the price substantially, fire sale bargain really, just what the builder of The Cathedral next door had planned. But I need to move with a sale under my belt and supporting the house through the winter is beyond my financial capabilities. And reality is reality.

Daughter had a unique Mothers & Daughters Luncheon for a bunch of us women with middle aged daughters. It was lovely and lasted five hours. Great conversation and delicious Indian vegetarian cuisine.

I was asked to join a major choir in the city once I move but I think my voice fled with a really bad resistant-to-super-antibiotic ear infection I had a few years ago. Things have never been the same with my hearing or my voice since.
I have other plans for my new city life though, all good, and interesting.

As I mentioned in one of my responses to comments on my last post, this time next year, this will all be far behind me. both the good and the worrisome.

Blog Jam

It's a fog of snow out there. Flakes so small they blanket the air, gauzing the meadow and the barn. I can't say as I like it. We had to cancel, again, the Book Club monthly meeting and now we're deferring the works till March. First time ever Book Club was cancelled and twice to boot.

As I was dressing this morning I became aware, as if for the first time, how there is no longer a need to rush. It seems like in my old life I was rushing from one thing to another. Like most working mothers, like most cramming every scrap of life into an overflowing day.

I thought:

Thirty minutes to perform all the rituals of the woken up morning.

I thought:

Why am I paying attention to the timing of that?

I had the house record (in a house of males) when still living in my parents' house. Five minutes from start to finish. Including the slap(Irishese for makeup) and clobber (full dress regalia). No showers then, just the bath at night. Now it's thirty minutes of drift, a meditation in there too, a chat with the dog. A leisurely teeth brushing, a selection of which of the two pairs of jeans to wear, or the sweats if going absolutely nowhere.

My old newfound friend phoned me yesterday. I hadn't heard her voice in well over thirty+ years. It hadn't changed. She has led a life as an emergency room nurse, a teacher, a farmer, a saw mill operator and now an artist. It turns out she is an expert in the art of Chinese fine line painting and conducts classes. And yes, she's in her eighties. Below is some of her work on exhibit at a gallery:

We also shared missing children stories. One of her sons estranged himself for twelve years from the entire family. During that time she missed the birth of her grandchildren and their growing up years. Years never regained of course - lost forever and with no foundational love for those grandchildren like she has with her other son's. She is stoic when she tells me this and has made the best of it, even through the apologies of her prodigal son. She said to me: "Apologies are too small, too inadequate. I tell him I do not want to hear them for they are meaningless. Let's make the best of the remaining years."

Wise words. I'd forgotten how very wise she was.

Shared heartbreaks. Shared creative souls.

A long lost friendship retrieved from the mists of time and misunderstandings. Elder bonus.

A Book Club Book?

My Den (don't I just wish!)

I was at my book club today. I love my book club. I think I've mentioned it before. To add to it now, my oldest friend in the whole wide world has hers on the 3rd Monday of each month also. She's in Dublin. We exchange daily emails and have for years and years. And of course talk books with each other. So she feels even closer.

Anyways, today, over our lunch, we were discussing "Dinner at the Homesick Restaurant" which was our book for last month and all these stories start to pop out of us about sibling rivalries (which was one of the book's themes) and even passive aggressive behaviours we've exhibited, and sad, unhappy mothers, and the biggest theme of all in the book: sibling memories which can differ so greatly from each other.

And someone nudged me and said, I think you should be jotting all of this stuff down, these real-life stories are so bloody interesting. And they are. And maybe I should. Or is it an overdone theme?

I would like to write a novel about a book club, I know it's been done before. BUT.

Anti-Disappointment

I had mentioned to another CFA* who is part of my theatre troupe, that I was having severe withdrawal from intellectual stimulation, discussion of ideas, critical thinking, etc. She, similarly afflicted, had found her solution in a book club par excellence which took place the 3rd Monday of every month about 45km from here.

So off I toddled today. The library where it was meant to be held was temporarily flooded so a member of The Hook & By Crook Book Club held it at her home. What I had not anticipated was this lavish lunch being served first. There were fifteen of us around the table and as it turned out, I knew or had heard of about 1/3 of them. One of them an author of a well loved local book, others from a choral group out of St. John's and still two more who had emailed me about a year ago requesting me to conduct a writers' workshop.

I've never felt such immediate comfort with such a large group of people in my life. They were all, without exception, extraordinarily well read, erudite, witty and with carefully thought out opinions on the topics the book had raised. And so very kind. I was exhilarated.

The next meet up is in December in another member's home and we will all be fed again, pot luck this time, and the price of admission is a well loved book from our own libraries, packaged up beautifully and given away with enclosed personalized comment.

I honestly think that the last remaining void in my move here has now been filled.

And so extraordinarily well.



*Come From Away