The internet is visual Redbull. It’s easy to get overstimulated. It can be all heroes arc and villains all the time without nuance. Infinite options, news, some kind of informational black hole. The rate of reading is so much faster disclosure than conversations wending about.
Somewhere on twitter someone said it articulately. Something like: Say no to any things that aren’t a ‘heck yeah! I’m in.’
To add to the glad game, migraine medd, Motrin and sympathy when I crash.
Phone connection and emails to check on those I love from far off.
An aunt being back out of the hospital.
Making time for a walk and a spontaneous date long enough to get thru debriefing and onto dreaming. HY.
There is so much to do but balance means mixing it up. There’s no natural end to work. Boundaries are arbitrary and imposed.
I could keep on going headlong, or allow myself to be pulled up short by, “I’m not demanding that you work harder or faster. What I’m asking you is what your priority is.”
Lack of focus can be a good thing. The body kicks against it but still it’s a Heck Yeah.
While I don’t entirely approve of premature jubilation for Christmas, dozens of little kids shouting Merry Christmas kinda wavered me over the line.
And although I know I give too much information all clustered up at once, a lot goes on.
And the bonhomie of the Railroad reading Series last night with a warm room of poems by Yvonne Blomer, Paul Tyler Monty Reid, Claudia Radmore.
And tomorrow, Santa comes to town. Not this town. Kemptville.
And an hour later Roland and I read at the library at 1 Water Street, which is mid-way thru the route, which is probably done by then, right. How fast can 100 floats move?
My shoulder’s still bothering me. Those white lines of cross walks are slippery when wet and Tuesday I went down in the gutter, splash. Landed on my my previously bad shoulder which is still trying to be the Rice Crispies Elves for Halloween. Ah well, there’s motrin for that and it’s proven already it can improve. Besides, it’s hard to be grumpy with so much good going around, between parties of well-being and laughter, and that plooplie that was Hallowe’en. Besides, a book came in the mail. Yay.
On a Saturday? Urp. Because Canada Post seeks to bind communities into self reliance by flinging mail to somewhere in the right 3 block radius so people can meet people. I’m sure that’s it.
The kids were terribly cute. Kind of baffled. Mixing up their lines. Wondering why they are here and parents are way back there.
Every year we forget when they start and end. This time just about a quarter to six the first few knights and fairies stumbled thru the streets.
We bought 160 candies for Hallowe’en and have about 30 left. Er, except we bought too early, the sacrificial box to save the other box for the kiddies. That much sugar intake gives powerful cravings for raw broccoli and raw carrots. Suddenly grapefruit juice has huge appeal.
Pro-Hallowe’en tip: Little kids don’t know who Groucho Marx is. Some — polite-in-trainings who didn’t have to be asked to say thank you— called out nice costume. Some looked confused, maybe at who is supposed to be dressed up here. One asked who are you supposed to be? Why are you wearing a nose? We explained. He said, “huh. I’ve got to get one of those.”
A bunch of superheroes came by: Batman, Ironman, a couple Captain Americas. One little pumpkin toddler was wearing a superhero cape. Indecision days happen. To be fruitful, or heroic. I get it.
A few wore warm coats over their outfits so we could only hazard a guess at what they might have been from the wingtips of one. All together 11 angels, princesses and fairies, a banana, a monkey (not together), a leopard, a tiger, a chicken, a piggie, a hedgehog, and one little bee who came in from the cold and climbed over the doorstep and headed in. He was lured partly back for a picture for mommy then held onto my leg and wouldn’t go back to daddy. When daddy came after him he went deeper into the house and was retrieved.
And a few athletes including a small member of the Blackhawks. 3 knights, 1 hippie flower child, 4 LOTR Orcs, 1 minescraft, 1 girl ninja, a Hans Solo, and a robed one which might have been Star Wars as well.Coolest group outfit I was tempted to photograph but didn’t: Mary Poppins toddler collecting candy in her carpet bag with parents and baby sister being a chimney and chimney sweeps. 55 before it was all done.
Meanwhile at the CKCU funding drive there’s $60,000 in the pot of the goal for $130,000. I’m not sure where Literary Landscape is since you have to go to the station to check numbers. Last I saw we were halfway to our $500 goal for the show. If you want to show that book lovers have some interest in radio, not just the music listeners, give it a dingle or click.
A Thursday 13 of more worthwhile movies, as best I can recall. (Some I ranked very highly and have no recollection left of.) They are high in location and framing. Often beautiful cineamatagraphy, often low on plot yank, high on yack. Most are typical: symbolic female exists and talks only to lead male if they get a speaking role or screen time.
- The Trip (2010) foodie + landscape cinematography + conversation movie + funny + poetry – Bechdel Test fail
- My Dinner with Andre (1981) Substance + thought provoking + conversation – Bechdel Test fail
- 10 Items or Less (2006) roadtrip + quirky + conversation + Bechdel Test (barely)
- The Meaning of Life (1983) boat trip + way random offbeat + funny + anti-foodie – Bechdel Test fail
- Roman Holiday (1953) tender + light-hearted + Bechdel Test (by a hair in male-dominated world)
- Before Sunset (2004) foodie? + conversation + Shakespeare & Co – Bechdel Test fail
- Pranzo di ferragosto/Mid-August Lunch (2008) location + foodie + community + conversation + Bechdel Test (but male protagonist/pov movie)
- Up (2009) sky trip + connection + animation – Bechdel Test fail
- Ratatouille (2007) sewer-trip + foodie + connection Bechdel Test fail
- Sita Sings the Blues (2008) headtrip + animation + 1 strong female but -Bechdel Test fail
- Before Sunrise (1995) conversation + location – Bechdel Test fail
- Once (2006) city trip + music + slow paced – Bechdel Test fail
- Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home (1986) star trip + funny + whales + Bechdel Test
So yeah, there’s that. Now, back to the poetry and writing…and Hallowe’en. What a strange occasion where the Canadian mardi gras means doing wild and crazy things like adding fake cobwebs to pretend you don’t clean. But making them look fake so it’s obvious you do. Or more disturbingly hanging comic figures from trees as a “safe” satire of lynching. Or dig up a plot on your front lawn with a plastic headstone and part of a skeleton coming out. I’ll be glad for November 1st. Even if it does mean the start of the 2 months of Christmas Day.