random book

Last week, I saw my book on the shelf at Chapters. I had walked in the back door of the store on Rideau Street, which leads straight into the health section. And there it was - or rather there they were. Three copies of my book just sitting on a shelf in a book store. It was a thrill to see it there. I had to call my spouse right away to tell him.

I had to go back to the same Chapters three days later (I had left my glasses in the store). I couldn't help going back to visit my book. There were only two copies left! They had sold one! I took a couple of steps away and then went back to pull a copy out so that the title page faced towards the front.

My heart still belongs to independent book stores, though. They are owned by booklovers, have knowledgeable staff and are the most supportive of writers. If you can buy my book through your local independent, I strongly encourage it. And if your local bookstore carries my book, let me know. I'll put their logo and a link in my sidebar.

I am quoted in a recent BlogHer article by web teacher Virginia DeBolt. Her post, "Self-Promote Your Book Using The Internet" has some really interesting ideas. I had never thought of doing a book trailer, for example. Of course, I still need to write content for the book's web site.

I also want to remind those of you in Toronto that the Not Done Yet launch will take place at the Toronto Women's Bookstore (73 Harbord, near Spadina) on October 22 from 7-9pm.

really random

I had to turn on the heat today. I was hoping to wait until later in the month but the temperature dropped to 12C (53.6) inside the house.

Late last week, I became convinced that something had crawled into our chimney or heating ducts and died. We have since had both cleaned. No dead thing was found but the smell is gone, too.

I've been watching more television lately than I have in years (when I could go weeks without watching television). I have become hooked on So You Think You Can Dance (US and Canadian versions) and Glee. I also have just discovered House. I've clearly been missing out on something good, there.

After yesterday's grumpy post, I want to say that I think there are lots of groups out there doing good work on behalf of cancer patients. I like Breast Cancer Action (although some chapters are better than others), the Canadian Breast Cancer Network, Living Beyond Breast Cancer and the Young Survival Coalition (they are behind the Annual Conference For Young Women Affected By Breast Cancer). Can you suggest others?

I also like to support my local cancer centre. I felt torn about this, as I believe that it's government's job to fund hospitals (through my tax dollars) but as a consumer, I know how many services are desperately needed.

I had a wonderful four day visit with my friend, K. We spent every waking moment together and still the visit felt too short. We were room-mates at Pearson College (K. is from the Netherlands). I nearly fell over when she pointed out that we met 25 years ago this month.

I realized when I was with K. that it was really important to me that she she appreciate all the things that I love about Ottawa. My heart soared when we were walking along Richmond Street in the rain and she announced how much she likes it here.

We hung out in the Glebe, Westboro and the Byward Market. We went walking in Gatineau Park. We visited Kingsmere. I had never been there. I loved the purple prose describing the property, the ruins and Mackenzie King himself. I also found it amusing that while we were informed of the fact that he was Canada's longest serving Prime Minister, there was no mention of the fact that he was completely bonkers.

Where do you like to bring friends who visit your home town?

"what's wrong with breast cancer awareness month?"

"October is breast cancer awareness month, which again fills the stores with pink products and pink ribbons. But many people with breast cancer are feeling exploited."

It's only September 30th and I already have pink ribbon fatigue. I ranted about about this in 2006, 2007 and 2008 (there is also a version of this rant in my book, Not Done Yet).

This year, let me point you to an excellent article by Maija Haavisto (and I don't just say this because she quotes me):

Since 1985 October has been celebrated as breast cancer awareness month, often symbolized by pink ribbons and the color pink. It is interesting to note that the awareness month was started by the drug company AstraZeneca (which manufactures several breast cancer drugs) and the pink ribbon originated from cosmetics giant Estée Lauder.

Simply put, I think a lot of breast cancer awareness month is big scam. To quote Maija's article quoting me (is this as po-mo as it gets?):

"I really resent big corporations making a profit - while donating only a tiny percentage to breast cancer research - on some disposable item that has been made under questionable environmental conditions by workers who are paid less than a living wage."

Want to do something to raise breast cancer awareness? Make a donation to an organization doing good work. Advocate for changes in environmental laws. Encourage young people to be aware of changes in their bodies. Do something nice for someone who has been affected by the disease.

And if you are craving a slice of pink cake, washed down with a glass of pink lemonade, by all means, indulge yourself. Just please don't do it in my name.

k. and the colossal colon

On Friday evening, my friend K. will be arriving from the Netherlands for a long-anticipated visit. I haven't seen her since she flew to London to hook up with S. and me in the spring of 2008. I can hardly wait! Two more sleeps!

K. is a gastroenterologist and is coming to Canada for a conference in Toronto. She's making a special trip to Ottawa to hang out with my family and me for the week end.

The last time K. came to this part of Canada was in 2005, when she attended a conference in Montreal. I took the train to meet her, and we went out to dinner and had a sleepover. At that point, we hadn't seen each other in almost twenty years and I was worried that we wouldn't recognize each other. That turned out to not to be a problem, and I remember how my heart lifted when I saw her.

I also remember the Colossal Colon that was set up in the atrium of the conference centre. The thing was huge colossal. I was awestruck. And I seem to remember that no one else was giving it a second glance.

I was reminded of this reunion and the big colossal colon the other day, when someone on Facebook linked to an article by Miami Herald columnist and humourist Dave Barry:

"What happened was, a giant 40-foot replica of a human colon came to Miami Beach. Really. It's an educational exhibit called the Colossal Colon, and it was on a nationwide tour to promote awareness of colo-rectal cancer. The idea is, you crawl through the Colossal Colon, and you encounter various educational items in there, such as polyps, cancer and hemorrhoids the size of regulation volleyballs, and you go, ''Whoa, I better find out if I contain any of these things,'' and you get a colonoscopy.

If you are as a professional humor writer, and there is a giant colon within a 200-mile radius, you are legally obligated to go see it. So I went to Miami Beach and crawled through the Colossal Colon. I wrote a column about it, making tasteless colon jokes. But I also urged everyone to get a colonoscopy. I even, when I emerged from the Colossal Colon, signed a pledge stating that I would get one.

But I didn't get one. I was a fraud, a hypocrite, a liar. I was practically a member of Congress."

Barry goes on to tell how some jarring news about his brother moved him to finally have the colonoscopy. And other than the prep, it was no big deal.

It's called, "A Journey Into My Colon -- And Yours" and it made me laugh out loud in several places. Go read it.

And, if you're over 50, make an appointment for a colonoscopy.

talking "not done yet."

I'm going to be on BlogTalk radio tomorrow!

The show: Lovebabz Lovetalk.

The time: 12:30-1:15 EST.

The call-in number: (718) 766-4895

The subject: Not Done Yet, Living Through Breast Cancer.

Please call in, if you can. I am really looking forward to this on-air chat with my friend Babz.

tired

I've been really struggling with insomnia lately. Falling asleep is tricky enough, but remaining asleep is the real challenge.

Most nights, I find myself awake plagued by questions:

Where do I know the actor from who played the handyman in The Waterhorse?

Should we have washed the dogs before we cleaned the carpets?

What if my oncologist ordered a thoracic CT scan so soon after my last abdominal one because they heard something during my last exam (and not just because I hadn't had one in a long time)?

Is the hat I'm making for D. going to be too small?

Was the other movie The Truth About Cats and Dogs? (I looked it up. His name is Ben Chaplin and it he was the actor in both movies).

Was I sent for two CT scans two weeks apart because of poor planning (or poor communicaiton) or is there something ugly growing on my lungs?

If the hat is too small, should I give it to someone else or rip it out and start over?

And so on, until I realize that sleep is hopeless.

Then I get up, play a little online Scrabble (or Lexulous), look up movies on the internet, check out what's happening on Facebook and hope that I will start to feel sleepy again.

But I'm tired today and tired makes me feel melancholy (I have more on that subject but I think I need to save it for another post).

I could drink more caffeine or go take a nap but neither will help me sleep tonight. Don't know if I can help myself, though.

random. out of necessity

It's Day 3 After Chemo and my brain is jumping around like a puppy with a burr up her butt. I can't focus on anything for more than a few seconds so here is a little bit of randomness:

One:

It appears that my family and I will be among the first in line for the H1N1 vaccine. My kids will be so thrilled.

Two:

My friend Jeanne, the Assertive Cancer Patient, posted about a reader in Texas who has $187,000 worth of Neupogen that she can't use:

"Texas doesn't have a drug repository that would take this medicine and pass it on to someone who needs it, and she hates to see it go to waste, as do I.

Any ideas, readers?

Obviously, we can't break the law and put this stuff on eBay or Craigslist, so I am looking for legal ways to get these expensive drugs to someone who can use them."

Three:

Yesterday, I got a phone call from the CT booking unit at my local hospital. I was informed that my oncologist had ordered a scan of my abdomen and chest, to be administered within the next couple of weeks.

I had a CT scan on September 4. When I mentioned this to the person who was booking the appointment, she had me call the nurse who works with my oncologist to confirm that they really want me to have another one. The nurse called back today and said that I didn't need to do the abdomen but since it's been a while since they have done the chest, we should go ahead with that.

I called the booking person back and the appointment has been scheduled for this Sunday afternoon at 1:20 (I had to cancel plans). My questions: Why didn't we they just order my chest scan for the same time as my las CT? Or my next one? I have no reason to believe that my doc suspects that there is anything wrong and I bet that if I could talk to him directly he would say that the chest scan can wait until we next do the abdomen. Why should I be subjected to extra radiation, an extra trip to the hospital and an extra session of find-the-vein when we have no reason to believe that there is anything wrong (and while I continue to undergo chemotherapy)?

But it's just not worth fighting about. Sigh.

Four:

Finally, I have another finished object to show. It's a Clapotis. I totally wish this one were for me but it has been promised to someone else. I will definitely add another one to the knitting queue. I made it from Knit Picks yarn (the Gloss Sock Yarn, merino wool and silk). It's lovely stuff (especially after washing) and relatively inexpensive. It also came quickly. I'll definitely order from them again.

These photos don't really do it justice but my son was a very, very good sport about posing for them.

frequent flyer

I had chemo on Tuesday. It was kind of a long day (I started with bloodwork at 8:30 and left the hospital at 3:30) which passed quickly due to the company of a really good friend. We had so much to say to each other that we needed the whole day to cover everything (except for when I was sleeping. The demerol/gravol combo really does knock me out).

It would have been an even longer day if I hadn't been on the receiving end of a little preferential treatment. At one point, the nurse who coordinates the chemo floor came out to reception and wrote on the notice board that they were running an hour behind schedule. I happened to be standing nearby and she caught my eye and said to me, in French, "environ" (approximately).

I was surprised, then, when my name was called a few minutes later. I passed the same nurse again, on the way in, and said, "That wasn't an hour."

"We squeezed you onto another team," she replied.

My friend, C. said, "Are you queue jumping?"

I smiled back. "It's the life-time membership."

bone loss: a public service announcement

I have been reading Cancer Fitness by Anna L. Scharwtz. I'm only a few chapters in, but the book has already taught me some important things.

I don't tend to devote a lot of thought to preventing bone loss but I did know that regular weight-bearing exercise helps prevent bone loss and to build strong bones. And while I walk and run (just finished the Running Room's beginner program again), I really don't do any strength training (or core work, for that matter, despite repeated promises to myself).

The women in my family tend to have strong bones (and good bone density) but what I didn't realize was how many factors put me at risk:

• early menopause, as a result of chemotherapy.


• doxorubicin (Adriamycin, the infamous "red devil). I had 6 rounds (this is also the drug that temporarily damaged my heart).


• decadron and other steroids (I had higher doses with the first 6 rounds of chemo but I still get decadron through IV with every chemo treatment, to help mitigate side effects).


• lorazepam (Ativan, which I use only occasionally for insomnia. I had absolutely no idea that it caused bone loss)


• regular consumption of caffeine.

And I don't drink very much milk, either.

Remember, that promise to myself I made in January? Well, I have not made as much progress as I would like. So, I signed up for a fitness class at my local community centre that incorporates core work and strength training (since the free weights, stability ball and exercise bands don't seem to be doing much more than collecting dust) to get myself started. Now, I have another reason to get to it.

I also took a calcium supplement today for the first time in months. Those suckers are horse pills but I think I need to get back into the habit of choking them down.

What are you doing to prevent bone loss?

toronto book party (take 2)

If you live near Toronto or have plans to be around, I look forward to seeing you there!

(the flu is not going to get me this time).

CT results

"It's good news!" said the voice on the other end of the phone. She sounded ecstatic. When you are nurse working in oncology, relaying good news must come as a welcome change.

"You're kidding!" I exclaim. Then, "I don't know why I always say that."

She laughs. "Well, there is no change. It's stable."

Seriously, she sounded giddy. We giggled some more.

She said, "You have a wonderful week end." She really sounded like she meant it.

Suddenly, I'm in the mood to celebrate. I already have dinner plans. And I probably would have had a beer anyway (they have Beau's. How could I resist?).

Now, I may have two. But I doubt it. I will just enjoy the beer, the food and the company (six people I love), even more.

this side of the fence

The view from my kitchen window.

back to the book

And yes, that's 'book.' Singular. As in, Not Done Yet: Living Through Breast Cancer. I haven't talked about it in a while (I burned myself out and I'm sure that you all were pretty bored with all the self-promotion) but fall brings fresh starts, renewed energy and a willingness to get back to work (or something like that).

Are you like me, in that you still find the return to school feels like the beginning of a new year (whether or not you have kids) and brings with it the impulse to make resolutions (or re-commit to those made in January that have long since been abandoned)? And to buy school related things? And read more?

How about buying a book?

I have been informed that Chapters/Indigo now has a bunch of copies in stock, so that you don't have to wait weeks when you order online. This also means that, if your local Chapters/Indigo does not carry the book, you can ask them to get it in for you. And if the books they have ordered sell well, they'll order in more.

However, I continue to have a deep and abiding love for independent bookstores. This feeling has only deepened since become an author with a small Canadian publishing company. The indies have been the most supportive and by far the easiest to deal with. Octopus Books, here in Ottawa, hosted my book launch. Collected Works also carries the book. Please support your local independent book store.

If you know of a local, independent book store that is carrying my book let me know. I'll contact them and see if they want their logo (with a link) added to the sidebar of my blog.

And of course, you can still by the book through Women's Press.

Finally, I have about a dozen copies of the book that I will happily sell. I charge the price of the book plus the exact amount of postage that it costs me. You can order via my nifty pay pal button or by sending me an email (notdoneyet at kingston-wayne dot ca).

i do run on

The echocardiogram was fine, the doctor found nothing unusual when she examined me, my butt is sore today from all the biking, the technician got the vein on the first try before the ct scan, I will have results in about a week, I got to go on a great walk with my sister today, my kids and spouse have just left on a two night canoe trip and this evening, I am going out for a grown-up dinner.

Life. Is. Good.

routine anxiety

Today and tomorrow I will make a total of three trips to the General Hospital for tests and an appointment with my oncologist (I toyed with the idea of staying at the hospital all day today but, with 4 and half hours between appointments, I chose to come home. This will mean an extra bike ride up the big hill that is Smythe Rd but I have chosen that as the lesser of two evils).

These appointments will probably never stop making me anxious but I am feeling especially stressed out right now, perhaps because the timing is so compressed.

This morning, I had an echo-cardiogram.

This afternoon, I see the oncologist (My appointment was set a week earlier than it usually is in the cycle and his nurse insisted that I come in for the appointment, as opposed to calling in. This can't have anything to do with my health, as he doesn't have any test results for me. Is he having all his patients in to tell us in person that he is leaving? I have no evidence that this is the case except irrational speculation on my part).

And tomorrow morning, I have a CT scan.

All of these things are just a routine part of my life. But I don't think they will ever feel routine to me.

fifteen (ok, seventeen) books

"Rules: Don't take too long to think about it. Select fifteen books you've read that will always stick with you. Choose the first fifteen you can recall in no more than 15 minutes."

My friend P. tagged me with a book meme on Facebook yesterday. I found myself laying awake last night, thinking through what my choices would be. It was fun to riffle through my mental library and pull out the books that have, for one reason or another, had a lasting impact.

I suspect that if I were to do this meme again next week, my answers would be significantly different.

Another friend, the pseudonymous Winnifred T. Poodle also tagged me. And then I found that my list replicated one of P.'s choices and two of Winnifred's. Would these books have been on my list without the power of suggestion?

Consider yourselves all tagged. And yes, I do know that I have listed seventeen books. I couldn't bear to pare down my list any further; it certainly would have taken me more than fifteen minutes to do so. And besides, it's my blog and I get to make the rules here.

Here are mine, in the approximate order that I read them:

1. Pride And Prejudice (Jane Austen)
2. This Can't Be Happening At Macdonald Hall (Gordon Korman)
3. Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret (Judy Blume)
4. The Grapes Of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
5. The Lord Of The Flies (William Golding)
6. Kamouraska (Anne Hébert)
7. A Portrait Of The Artist As A Young Man (James Joyce)
8. The Women's Room (Marilyn French)
9. Midnight's Children (Salman Rushdie)
10. Shikasta (Doris Lessing)
11. The Fifth Child (Doris Lessing)
12. Bastard Out Of Carolina (Dorothy Allison)
13. Fall On Your Knees (Anne-Marie MacDonald)
14. Middlesex (Jeffrey Eugenides)
15. Bitter Chocolate (Carol Off)
16. The Book Of Negroes (Lawrence Hill)
17. Fruit (Brian Francis)

first day

My insides are churning today. I am unable to concentrate on any one task. And I didn't sleep well last night.

You see, today was the first day of school.

D. started Grade 1 at a new school. S. went into Grade 6 at the same one.

I remember Grade 6. It was when it started to be all about my peers. I remember the drama, the intrigues, the intense friendships that formed and broke up. And I remember the hormones.

And as for D., I can't believe that my baby is old enough to be in Grade One. He has been counting down the days for weeks, complaining that the summer was too long and that he just wanted to start school already. His expectations are very, very high (although last night when he couldn't fall asleep, he asked my spouse, "What if I get bad grades?") and I worry that he will be greatly disappointed.

Yes, emotions ran very high in our house this morning.

And the kids were pretty worked up, too.

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.