all good things

Today is a pretty emotional day for my little family.

Tomorrow, my youngest, will start Grade One at a new school. While that's a pretty big deal in and of itself (at least it's the same school his big brother attends), this also marks his last day at the day care housed in his old school.

My family has been involved (except for a few years between kids and when D. was in home care), with the Glebe Parents' Day Care since 1999, when S. was a toddler. It's a great day care but the staff at their First Avenue program are truly exceptional.

When S. was "emergency airlifted" out of First Avenue in Grade One, they re-opened the day care an hour early so that staff could meet him at the bus (his temporary school was further away and the school day ended earlier) for the rest of the term (from February until June).

And, earlier this year, when I needed a space to launch my book, the staff offered their wonderful facility free of charge. They decorated it so beautifully and there was even a message on a chalkboard in the washroom telling me how proud they were of me.

And those are just a couple of examples.

This past week end, D. and I made a poster-sized card with a photo of our family. We all signed it. We also made cookies (I burned the first two batches, my spouse did the baking of the last couple, as I was becoming hysterical). We also gave them a bottle of gourmet chocolate sauce to pour in their coffee.

D. and I made cards for the three teachers who hosted the book launch. I want to make scarves for all three of them but of course, only one was finished. D. had me paste photos of the scarves in the cards for the other two, so that they would know what they are getting (I made a "Lace Ribbon" scarf for J., T. is getting a "Clapotis" and, if I can manage the pattern, I want to make "Juno" for A.)

I had T. and D. deliver it all to the day care, confessing to my spouse that I am "emotional coward." Apparently, the staff and T. have decided that I am not to be let off the hook, though, so S. and I will join T. when he goes to collect D. at the day care this evening.

There might be tears.

These photos were taken first thing this am and are thus not particularly flattering. I just wanted a photographic record.

To distract myself this, I thought I'd do this nifty little book meme that Sassymonkey wrote about at BlogHer:

"Using only books you have read this year (2009), answer these
questions. Try not to repeat a book title. It’s a lot harder than you
think!

Here's the meme with my answers. If you haven't read enough books so far this year to answer all the questions go back as far as you need to get enough books. If you've played it on your blog leave a link so I can go visit."

I was planning to do it even before I noticed that Sassymonkey had used my book to answer one of the questions but that particularly tickled me.

Describe yourself: Dragonslayer (Bone #4, Jeff Smith)

How do you feel: What It Is (Lynda Barry)

Describe where you currently live: Three Day Road (Joseph Boyden)

If you could go anywhere, where would you go? Toronto Noir (Janine Armin and Nathaniel G. Moore, eds.)

Your favorite form of transportation: Walk Through Darkness(David Anthony Durham)

Your best friend is: Tipping The Velvet (Sarah Waters)

You and your friends are: Casting Spells (Barbara Bretton)

What’s the weather like: All the Colours Of Darkness (Peter Robinson)

You fear: The Price Of Darkness (Graham Hurley)

What is the best advice you have to give: Nobody Move (Denis Johnson)

Thought for the day: Don't Look Twice (Andrew Gross)

How I would like to die: A Good Death (Elizabeth Ironside)

My soul’s present condition: Hurry Down Sunshine (Michael Greenberg)

I seem to have read a lot of books with darkness in the title.

in pictures

These are some illustrations for the post I wrote on August 10, about our trip out east. Thanks to my sister in law, B. for taking the horse photos. There is NO WAY I was letting go of the reigns long enough to point and shoot.

ottawa folk fest 2009

It's a highlight of every summer for my family, and this year's Ottawa Folk Festival was no exception (although we did miss S. a lot. He's staying with his Grandma and going to comedy camp. He says they spend their days doing improv routines and watching highlights from Saturday Night Live. The kid is in heaven). And this year, despite forecasts to the contrary (and some really nasty looking storm clouds) the weather was perfect.

I think I kept the rain away through sheer force of will.


This is Vishtèn, a group we really liked from PEI and the Magdalen Islands. Other highlights for me included James Keelaghan, the Good Lovelies and a workshop called Outstanding In Their Field that featured Digging Roots (excellent musicians, great voices, hard rocking native musicians), the Arrogant Worms, Charlotte Cornfield, Tall Trees (the teenage winners of this year's "rising stars" award. I was really charmed by them) and Stewed Roots. I also think I might have fallen in love with Victoria Vox and her ukelele.

My spouse and I both loved James Hill and Anne Davidson.

Every folk festival has moments of magic. T. (whose personal highlights were a lot like mine), D. and I all agree that those moments this year came courtesy of the Common Ground Cross-Cultural Collaboration (couldn't find a link to explain this amazing process of bringing together artists from all over North America and throwing them together to make music):

"When the artists are having fun it is infectious. Our final daytime show ended with the whole group getting off the stage and leading the audience dancing around the room. One of those special festival moments."

On Saturday afternoon, my sister and brother-in-law collected D. so that T. and I could enjoy some child free time and take in some music without being subject to the (sometimes tyrannical) whims of our youngest child. That night, we stayed to the very end (although, I did take in Bruce Cockburn while lying down with my eyes closed. It was nice).

Attending the Folk Festival with a six year old is a different experience. You don't always get to choose what concerts you attend and you can never be sure if you will hear a full set.

But I got to sit in the shade with my son between my legs. I listened to music and watched his face as he read to himself (hooray for reading!).

I balanced him on my knees and we listened to music together.

And we all danced our hearts out.

While it was frustrating to miss out on some workshops I wanted to hear (like Songs From The Road, featuring Bruce Cockburn, Steven Page and Joel Plaskett), I got to do and see some things I might have missed entirely.





We spent more than an hour building a model of a cob house.

We watched some folks learning to dance the Charleston.

D. painted his name in Japanese characters and made an origami flower.

And we did all this without setting foot in the kids' tent.

Going to the Folk Festival with a six year old is exhausting but I don't resent it for a moment (although I would probably feel differently if we hadn't had the break on Saturday).

And the thing is, I think that these are the memories that will stay with me.


And it wouldn't be the FolkFest if I didn't spend some time knitting in public.

I didn't even mind when, at around 5:00 on Sunday, D. announced that he wanted to leave. It would have been great to stay and hear the evening concert but going to St-Hubert for dinner was special in its own way.

"This is such a great feast!", D. announced. It was a great end to a wonderful week end.

(You can see the full list of FolkFest artists here).

he's only six years old

Today's scheduled post is being pre-empted by a story I want to share with all of you.

My younger son, D., had an appointment at the dentist's today. I decided to turn the day into a special outing and go out for lunch and then to the movies (G-Force. I still do not like rodents).

When the movie was over, he announced that he had to go to the bathroom. As I wrapped up a phone call with my spouse and went to open the bathroom door, a man stepped towards me and said, "I think he's way too old to go in there with you. He looks like he's at least four years old."

I thought he was kidding. I smiled and said, "He's six."

"Six! You really shouldn't be going in there."

He was serious. And outraged (I'll bust some stereotypes and tell you that he was young - no older than early 30s). As I stepped around him and gently pushed my son through the door, I heard him say, "I'm going to talk to the manager."

I was flabbergasted.

D. was quite upset as he has been really reluctant to go into the women's washroom for the last year or so (although lately he's gone in with me when we are out alone without complaining).
He was mortified.

I am not an overly protective parent nor am I prone to paranoia. I also know all that so many more children are harmed by adults they know than ones they meet in the bathroom at the movie theatre.

However:

He can barely reach the taps in public washrooms, let alone the soap dispenser.

He often can't get the stall door to close.

Sometimes, he can't get it open.

Despite his protestations, he's afraid to be by himself in an unfamiliar place.

He's six years old. And it is still several years before I am going to let him out of my sight in any public place.

When I was six years old, a stranger exposed himself to me.

I let my 11 year old go into the men's room by himself. Once, when D. had a friend with him at the movies, I let both boys go in together and stood outside with my heart in my mouth until they re-appeared (I asked if they had washed their hands. My son said, "Yes!" His friend said, "No, you didn't!").

I think the answer to "When is your child old enough to [fill in the blank]?" depends very much on the individual child and on the parents' comfort level (I often say that it's really good that my boys have two parents, otherwise they would never be allowed to do anything). I am, however, very comfortable asserting that my six year old will be coming into the women's washroom with me for a while yet.

And what's the big deal, anyway? Women's washrooms have stalls. It's not as though D. is peeking under the doors. When I went to university, at least one of the residences had only co-ed bathrooms. Now that was weird - brushing my teeth in the morning and having some guy walk by in a little towel.

How do you handle the bathroom situation when out with your kids? How do you feel when you see a child of the opposite sex in a public washroom?

not done yet reviewed for the cmaj

I have recovered from chemo but a week end at the Folk Festival and a night of insomnia have left me completely brain dead.

In lieu of any original content on my part, I wanted a share a wonderful review of Not Done Yet, published in this month's Canadian Medical Association Journal.

A physician who treats breast cancer patients might wonder what this blog-cum-book could offer a busy professional whose daily practice likely holds its own heartbreaking quota of Lauries...

However, Kingston’s book provides the detail and emotional shadings that give meaning to these stark, exterior facts. The honest telling of a singular story weaves the experience of cancer into the whole cloth of a life, reworked after a devastating rupture. She vividly integrates events and see-sawing emotions...

Comfortable in her lay-expert role and an inveterate listmaker, she draws from the negative encounters to compile pointers for health care professionals: "Don’t look horrified when I tell you I have metastatic breast cancer; … Don’t ask me questions about my treatment[s] that are irrelevant to the procedure being performed and/or outside your sphere of knowledge [p 190]"

The author of the review, Sharon Batt, is a Doctoral Candidate in the Department of Bioethics at Dalhousie University. She is also the author of the book, Patient No More: The Politics of Breast Cancer about her own experience.

Many thanks to my friend N. (herself the editor of Women Who Care - an upcoming book about "Canadian Women’s Personal and Professional Experiences of Health Care and Caring") for submitting my book to the CMAJ for review.

You can download the full pdf of the review here.

my bad dog

Yesterday, I had to fish my dog out of the canal. I was jogging along, with one dog tied around my waist and holding on the leash of the other one (the small, bad one). My mind may have been wandering a little bit. Her leash had been slack for some time when Lucy caught sight of a group (gaggle? flock?) of ducks, yanked hard and broke free.

She slipped under the rails at the sides of the canal (I think it may have been this exact spot, although there was no dredger around) and hesitated only a moment before jumping in. Now I had never seen her swim before, and my heart sank, as she did. She re-emerged pretty quickly, and having recovered from her surprise (I think the canal was a lot deeper than she expected), she set off after the ducks.

I yelled her name. I looked around to see how she might get out (and how I might get in, if I really had to). I waited for her to realize she wasn't going to catch the fleeing fowl and return to me. She made it almost to the other side before she got tired, turned around and swam back in my direction (and even then she did one about-face and reconsidered). When she reached me, she of course, could not get out along the concrete sides of the canal. I lay down on my stomach, grabbed hold of her leash, guided her over and then pulled her out by the scruff until she could find enough purchase to clamber out.

At which point, she shook herself and soaked me in filthy canal water.

She trotted home quite happily, none the worse for her adventure. I on the other hand, was mad as a wet hen.

But the day's adventures were not over.

I dropped by my sister's yesterday afternoon. It was her birthday a couple of days ago. I gave her a card inscribed with the following:

On the cover: "My dog ate your present."

Inside: "You can have my dog."

I thought it was pretty funny, but I didn't realize how apt.

I also gave my sister two balls of wool, which are going to become socks. I took the wool away with me so that I can execute that transformation. And when I got home, I plopped both balls on the dining room table. I went upstairs to watch D. in the bath (S. and my spouse are both away right now).

When I came down, I found Lucy at the bottom of the stairs with wool wrapped around her neck and paws. Yarn was also draped around furniture legs. Both balls had had the paper ball bands removed. It took me an hour and a half to untangle the mess.

Perhaps she was trying to make art.

Just the other day, I was bragging to a friend about how good Lucy was on our trip East. I uttered the words, "She has really turned a corner."

My spouse would surely call that 'hubris.'

Lucy is lying on the floor beside me as I type this, looking very peaceful and innocent. She really can be very sweet. It's a good thing because I was tempted to call this post, "Free to a good home."

something else i've been up to

This blanket is called the "Curve of Pursuit" and was designed by Pat Ashforth and Steve Plummer of Woolly Thoughts:

"The design is based on the curves that are formed if four dogs set off to chase each other from the corners of a field. The path created by each dog is an equi-angular spiral."

Mine was made in the colours of one of my favourite dogs and was gifted to her humans.

I am very happy with how this turned out and proud of my persistence. It looked kind of funny in the beginning and I almost gave up. I'm so glad I didn't; even if it did mean I spent much of July with a wool blanket across my lap.

If you're on Ravelry, you can check out the details, here.

dear feminism, we still need you

Ottawa's mayor, Larry O'Brien, was just acquitted of attempting to bribe (in the form of a political appointment) a rival candidate during the election. While the allegations still seem to me to be entirely plausible (my opinion and no, I emphatically did not vote for the man and the whole election process is a bit of a "don't get me started."), I was not surprised by the results. My spouse and I heard the news on the radio as we were in the Maritimes, grunted, sighed and went back to mediating the squabbling in the back seat of the car.

Then, today, I heard about this (via Miss Vicky):

"Lisa MacLeod is a young female politician who commutes to her job at Queen's Park from Ottawa and leaves her husband, Joe, and four-year-old daughter, Victoria, at home. Mr. Justice Douglas Cunningham of Ontario Superior Court said this is a big distraction for the 34-year-old woman and as a result he felt he could not accept her evidence as corroboration of the Crown's key witness in the recent high-profile, influence-peddling trial of Ottawa Mayor Larry O'Brien.

Judge Cunningham is 69; he was appointed to the bench in 1991.

His comments, delivered last week in his ruling dismissing the charges against Mr. O'Brien, are now drawing criticism from political strategists and activists who are shaking their heads, wondering when women will be treated as equals in politics."

Here is the link to the full article, written by The Globe and Mail's Jane Taber.

holiday random

I am very happy to be home again after a little over a week on the road. I am feeling kind of exhausted but rested at the same time, in that post family vacation way.

Here are some of the things we did, as they pop into my head:

1. We spent our first night in the Hotel Universel in Rivière du Loup, Québec (our options were limited, as we were travelling with two dogs). When I had made the reservation, the guy on the phone had said to me that the only rooms available were "poolside." What this turned out to mean was that our room had sliding glass doors and a small balcony overlooking the world's most chlorinated indoor pool. The room reeked and the noise from the pool, during the hours it was open, was unbelievable. D. LOVED it. He renamed it "The Great Place" (it looks nothing like on the web site. And I love the marketing here. "Classic" means completely unrenovated since my childhood. With the same carpets.) and it may have been the higlight of his vacation (we stayed their again on the way back. This time we had direct access to the parking lot and a row of other families with dogs as neighbours. This was much better from the adults' perspectives).

2. We stayed with my spouse's brother and family in PEI. It was my kids' first visit to the Island. The two families blend very well together and we had gorgeous weather. We had such a good time.

3. We had dinner with an old friend of my spouse's (I had over-lapped with him in our small university town but we somehow had never met) and his lovely spouse and son. We ate in their beautiful yard in dowtown Charlottetown. The meal was as good as any I have ever had in a restaurant. It made me want to move there.

4. My sister-in-law and I went horse-back riding with the older kids. It was a forty-five minute ride over very easy trails but I was more than a little nervous, as I have only ridden a handful of times in my life (and the last time was more than twenty years ago). My horse was named "Lady" and she was nothing of the sort. I was warned by the staff that she liked to stop and eat on the side of the trails and that she was likely to "test me." If I let her get away with anything, it would be "game over." Very reassuring.

I reminded myself that I am a Mom. And I have dogs. I know how to set boundaries. It actually went pretty well. I was pretty proud of myself. She did break once into a trot and I don't think I was very dignified but I managed to hold on. (And then she stopped to pee. And that turned out to be the the day that we were without water overnight. Even after changing, I still had the smell up my nose. My older son made it worse. Every so often, he would come close to me, sniff loudly and say, "Horse." A comedian that one).

5. PEI beaches rank among the most beautiful places in the world. We went to this one (four of us - not me - were brave enough to jump from the dock into the river. I was happy to stay ocean-side) and this one (some of us thought there were too many jelly fish to swim but we went for a beautiful walk along the dunes) and this one (I took the dogs for a long walk along the beach here. I have run out of superlatives. It was purty.)

6. I turned 42 on August 4. I slept in. We went to the beach. We ate oysters and mussels and lobster. There was wine. There was cake. And the little kids spent the day saying, "Shh. It's a secret." One of my favourite birthdays ever.

7. One day, I had fried clams and french fries for lunch and dinner (or dinner and supper, as they say in the Maritimes). And that was pretty representative of our vacation eating habits.

8. I brought back ginger ale for Sassymonkey.

9. We visited with my father's oldest sister (he was one of 10 and my mother was one of 13) in Miramichi, NB. Her beautiful house holds so many memories for me. I am so glad we stopped, if only for a couple of hours.

10. We spent two nights in Dalhousie, New Brunswick, the town where I was born. It's also my mother's home town and it was so much fun to spend time with her family and see some of my relatives. We went for walks on the beach and played by the light house I visited as a child. The best part though, was sitting in my cousin's back yard and laughing until I cried. I had not seen these relatives in many years but I have become convinced that there is a sense of humour that is genetic (my sister and Mom know what I am talking about. And we also seem to share a love of animals. The dogs were a huge hit).

11. We drove and drove and drove.

12. Today, I am going to reacquaint myself with vegetables. Fries are not a veggie serving. Beer is not a grain. And drinking wine is not like eating grapes.

free to a good home (part 2)

A few weeks ago, I wrote that I had an almost new prosthesis that I was seeking to re-home. This is what happened next:

Julia consulted other directors of Breast Cancer Action, who suggested that there might be a program to send prostheses to developing countries. She also called the social worker at the cancer centre who told her that Canadian Cancer Society takes donations (1745 Woodward Dr., Ottawa, ON K2C 0P9. 613-723-1744). I am so grateful to her for doing this.

Throws Like A Girl , who is part of our group at Mothers With Cancer, suggested that we need "a prosthesis relocation program."

Imstell jumped in with the following:

"Maybe we [Mothers With Cancer] could just host a bulletin board where people could post their needs:

FREE TO GOOD HOME Single 36C teardrop prosthesis. Likes to travel. You pay shipping.

WANTED swimming prosthesis. Any size large enough to hide my belly.

These had me laughing out loud but I think we might actually get something like this going.

Finally, Christine told me that she has a friend who lives locally, who was in need of a new prosthesis. It turned out to be a perfect fit.

Thanks to all who commented here, via email and on Facebook. You made me laugh. And you made me feel good about the power of community.

We are off to the maritimes tomorrow (if all goes well-it's a two-day drive with two kids and two dogs). I may be offline until August 12. I feel the withdrawal pangs starting already.

some further and disjointed thoughts on my blogher09 experience

A non-virtual connection with Melissa from Stirrup Queens (and author of "Navigating the Land of If"). We are both holding Nora's head on a stick.

1. If Twitter was played a role at last year's BlogHer conference, this year it was front and centre.
Many of us followed what was happening in other sessions we attended by following the keyword (called a hashtag with a #sign) blogher#09. These are my tweets from the session I attended about "Online Safety for Your Kids Who Are Online Themselves" (I had expressed in my previous post the concern that it would be all about scaremongering but was delighted to find that it was not):

"if you are an engaged parent you have less to worry about in terms of sexual predation online" #blogher09 session on online kids.

it never occurred to me to worry about kids taking pics at my son's sleepover b-day party. should i have? #blogher09 kids online session.

"every technology brings with it new fears." the take away - don't panic! i love it. panel on kids online #blogher09 do you post photos of your kids online? on facebook? flickr? #blogher09

"identifying information that your kids put online has NO correlation with sexual predation." #blogher09

"reputation management" never heard this before in online context. interesting. #blogher09. your photos and words may come back on you, kids

"we are tethering our kids" "we are raising our kids in captivity" - this is the way times have changed. #blogher09.

2. In the closing keynote, the subject came around again, to Twitter. One commenter likened her Twitter community to a support group "I think the women I've met online in the pregnancy loss community have saved my life" (I didn't get her name or blog. Let me know if you did). A powerful statement, but I can relate. She went on to say that support groups are not available 24/7 the way that an online community can be.

3. One of the speakers also observed that most people get started blogging because of someone they know in their "physical life." I thought that was interesting, because it was my spouse (a non-blogger) who introduced me to the blogosphere.

4. Another favourite keynote comment (again, if you know who said this, do let me know): "People with higher levels of income tend to be online. We need to be vigilant that our online communities are not recreating or reinforcing existing inequities."

5. As you can see, I found the content to be very rich and thought provoking this year, despite the size of the conference.

6. I do worry that some people spent so much time tweeting that they missed connections with real people or taking in the discussions occurring around them.

7. One of my favourite Twitter moments occurred when "phdinparenting" lamented her dislike for American beer. She posted about our interaction on BlogHer. It really tickled me that I could be of help. There were lots of those kinds of tweets, throughout the conference.

8. I wish the bookstore had been in a different location. One person suggested in a conference feedback thread that the bookstore would do better closer to registration. I suggested that book signings take place during cocktail parties, in the middle of the action (and of course it wouldn't hurt if free cocktails made people want to buy more books). The conference organizers have acknowledged that the placement of the bookstore in the far corner of the Expo hall was a mistake (too far out of the way. And who wants to buy a book when they are surrounded by mounds of free stuff?). While I do understand how experiments can fail (and how it must have seemed like a good idea during planning) I just wish that this particular year (when I schlepped a bunch of books in my suitcase) had not been the one where the bookstore flopped.

9. Elisa from BlogHer made an observation (in a tweet, of course), that she is trying to learn the distinction between things that are "wrong" and things that are just not her "cuppa tea." That's how I feel about the karaoke during the Friday night cocktail party. I hated it. However, others seemed to be having fun (perhaps I am just getting old), so I got myself a hot date and went to find a patio.



10. I have other thoughts but Sassymonkey and Blondie expressed them already. Go read their posts.

I said many times before going that BlogHer09 would be my last. I hadn't even unpacked my suitcase before I'd begun to fantasize about getting to BlogHer10 in NYC. Anyone want to drive down from Ottawa and share a hotel room with me?

having a wonderful time. wish you were here.

I am having my best BlogHer ever.

The biggest difference is that I am more comfortable in my own skin, more at ease with who I am and more willing to take risks when it comes to approaching people.

I also know myself well and am making the choices that are the right ones for me. This has meant that I am not pressuring myself to "network" not doing the parties and welcoming opportunities for one on one time with interesting people. This has led to the creation of some lovely memories and the deepening of some friendships.

Yesterday, I attended sessions on "The Transformational Power of Blogging," "Blogs and Body Image: What are we teaching our kids?" and "Patient Bloggers: You are not your disease - you just blog about it every day." Every one was excellent.

I toyed with the idea of skipping the "Community Keynote" but I'm so glad I didn't. A series of bloggers read selected posts from their blogs, each more funny or sad or powerful than the next. And some really beautiful pieces of writing.

Last night's cocktail party was a little grim (karaoke! ouch!) or maybe I am just getting old ("the noise! I couldn't have a conversation!") The free booze just wasn't enough to make me stay. Luckily, I invited Elana to have dinner with me - and she said yes. A pint and a bite and some lovely conversation later, I felt restored.

Today, I have visited the vendors, talked to people and, at lunch, I did my book signing. They had us tucked away in a far corner of the Expo hall, so it was a little slow. I was signing with Ilene Chaiken, creator of the L-Word and we still didn't draw more than a handful of people. I've sold and signed a few books, though and have done as well as anyone else here.

Next up is a session on "Online Safety for Your Kids Who Are Online Themselves." I just hope it's not all scaremongering.

I think I'm going to skip the evening cocktail party and go have some deep-dish pizza with Suzanne, her parents and some other bloggers.

This time, I wasn't to oshy to ask for a celebrity photo (that's Ilene Chaiken on the left and BlogHer co-founder - and blurber of my book - Lisa Stone in the centre).

landed

I was going to title this 'the eagle has landed' but then given my Canadian-ness , I thought 'the beaver has landed' would be more appropriate but that sounded, well, rude. (And silly, since beavers don't fly. Never mind.)

What I mean is, that I am now in Chicago, comfortably ensconced in my hotel room and ready to attend BlogHer 09.

I didn't get sick (although both my kids did) or my symptoms were really mild (or I have yet to be felled but I won't consider that option). Thanks to everyone who wished me well. I think it helped.

I am typing this (badly) on a lovely little borrowed Netbook, since my computer died on Tuesday afternoon. After calling around for the best prognosis and cheapest care, it seems like it's fixable. I'm glad but I could learn to love this little loaner, even as I adjust to a new keyboard.

Last year, you may recall that my computer took sick right before BlogHer as well. I chose to be computer-less (and while I certainly didn't mind not schlepping the thing back and forth from Oakland to San Francisco and back every day, I did miss being wired. Twitter played such a big role at last year's conference (I'm @lauriek. Follow me, if you like!) and I missed being able to read everyone's comments at day's end and add my own. Also, the comprehensive agenda was online only and I left before it was available, so that was a bit of a hassle. This year's laptop demise may end up feeling serendipitous.

I'm not going to hide behind the computer, though. I made myself some handwritten notes this morning (I try to spend a few minutes writing free-hand most days) which can be summed up this way: relax, don't let my introversion get the best of me and have fun!

I forgot my USB cable (so no photos to download until I get home) and a little gift to exchange with someone. I did remember to bring a friend's husband's forgotten wedding ring and another friend's head on a stick.

The head (well, photograph of a head) belongs to Nora who can't be here (something about having given birth to twins). Nora and I met at last year's BlogHer. I liked her very much. And I must say that she has thus far been an excellent travelling companion. There are a few of us here bearing Nora's head and tomorrow, we are going to try and pose for a group photo.

I have to head over to the conference hotel, shortly (I am staying a few blocks away) and deliver my books the bookstore. I'm doing a signing on Saturday at lunch (12:15 to 12:40). I 'm sharing the spot with Ilene Chaiken (creator of the L-Word), so I will either benefit from her spillover or be left entirely alone. If you don't yet have my book and you want to buy it at BlogHer, I promise to sign it and write something really nice.

not this time

We got back yesterday evening from my spouse's family cottage. It's a place I love and where I am always happy, even when the weather does not cooperate.

So despite the fact that I couldn't bring myself to go swimming and I didn't sit around on the dock in my bathing suit, I still found time to read, enjoy the company of family and make art with D. ("Who would have thought that painting could be so much fun?" he said. "Using your imagination!"), knit, go for walks, eat and drink too much and just relax. My spouse taught S. how to play Backgammon and D. taught me how to tolerate playing PayDay.

It was all quite lovely, even if we we did miss the sun.

On the very last night, though, D. woke with a fever and could not get back to sleep. He threw up twice (and copiously) on our long drive home.

I kept him home today and let him watch DVDs in his pajamas. By this evening, he was asking to go to the park.

Through it all, I comforted, fussed and nursed. And tried not to heed the guilty voice in my head: "The kid has lousy timing! I can't get sick. I leave on Thursday for BlogHer!"

This evening my head hurts and I am achy. I feel just as I did before the fever set in, on the day before my ill-fated Toronto book launch.*

I cannot get sick. I will not get sick. I am going to bed and tomorrow, I will wake up feeling well.

Cross your fingers for me, OK?

*temporarily ill-fated. Re-scheduled for October.

unwired

I am off to a place with no internet and no phone (hard to believe but it's true. Our cell phones don't even work there).

It's also one of my favourite places in the world.

I'll be back in a week or so. Don't let me forget to tell you the story of how my prosthesis found a new home (and all the good help and advice - both humorous and helpful- that I got from my online community).

Here's hoping for sunshine!

RIP Emily

She was known as Sepha and her blog was Undone.

I have been meaning to email her, send her a package, comment on her blog. I have been thinking of her lots.

Now we have lost another one. Another smart, funny, creative woman has succumbed far too young to cancer.

Life, sometimes is so unfair. And damn, I wish I had sent that package.

My heart goes out to her family and her Dear Other.

I hate cancer.

free to a good home

It's not the kind of thing I'd want to advertise on Craigslist or Kijiji.

I can't set it out on my front lawn and hope someone takes it away.

I doubt the Canadian Diabetes Association or the Ontario Federation for Cerebral Palsy would want it as part of their drive to collect use goods for re-sale.

But I have a perfectly good prosthesis, worn only a handful of times that I'm sure someone could use, even if it was wrong for me (and I have replaced it with another one I don't seem to be wearing much).

The government covers about two thirds of the cost of a new prosthesis. That balance must be prohibitive for many who don't have private insurance to take care of the rest.

How do I find someone who can use it though?

Maybe someone at Breast Cancer Action would know.

Of course, I could always use my prosthesis to make art, the way Jacqueline did.

I think my inclinations might be a little more violent, though.

Thoughts?

and then it just got even more canadian around here

photo: A Kaplan-Myrth

Because every Canadian finds a Mountie on their front lawn on Canada Day.

The food was good, the beer was cold and their was maple syrup in the salad dressing. Now the dogs are being driven crazy by the fireworks.

It's been a good one.

rhetorical question

Do you know hard it is to keep track of two six year olds in a museum on Canada Day, when admission is free and everyone is dressed in red and white?

So far today I have been to the Museum of Civilization, eaten Vietnamese noodle soup, watched two boys play in a splash pad at a park and taken the dogs for a walk in the rain.

Now that the sun is out, I'm going to join friends on their back deck, watch the kids splash in the pool, eat some barbecued stuff and have a beer or two.

Very Canadian.

recipe for low-tech fun

1. Take down kids' playhouse that has been up for almost a decade.

2. Leave dogs unsupervised in back yard.

3. Set two six year old boys up with sprinkler and water slide.

4. Leave six year old boys unsupervised for two minutes.

5. Find small lake filling hole previously dug by dogs.

6. Consider becoming annoyed but remember how much fun you had playing in the mud as a kid.

7. Sit and knit while boys dip their hands in the water.

8. Watch as boys wade into mud hole.

9. Listen to imagination game as boys run mud through their fingers.

10. Observe the inevitability of mud in fingers leading to mud covering bodies and faces.

11. Intervene only when mud is being flung against the house.

12. Watch boys rinse mud off house.

13. Interrupt game only when it is time to leave.

14. Ignore pleas for five more minutes.

15. Hose boys down.

16. Drop one boy off at home.

17. Apologize for mud encrusted in ears and other places.

18. Smile every time you think of those two boys covered in mud.