Tag those_conversations
i It’s not depression, I say. It’s February. You: Baby, it’s March. Jane: Look outside. It’s February. The sun is back, though, and the weather forecast promises above weather zero again, so the prognosis looks good. I will probably make it to another spring. But I’ve got to tell. you, kittens, the amount of energy ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
monday … started and ended in tears, but in-between, it was a good, good day. It flowed. Isn’t that kind of amazing? tuesday … was a hard day. I struggled—to focus, to breathe, to do. I took Ender swimming, drank in his joy. Made a good supper. Struggled. If you ask me about what, why—I … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
My Twitter feed informs me that a new study from some psychology department at some famous university has found that having one lazy day a week lowers your risk your heart attack, stroke, depression, death etc etc. (I’m not sure how one lows one’s risk of death… after all, we all die. Eventually. It’s sort … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
I don’t want a pen pal, she doesn’t want a relationship, and we live 300 km apart, so really, we’re doomed, but we decide to play a game anyway, like Truth or Dare, without the dare part. I set out the rules: I ask a question. You answer it. Tell the truth, or lie—it doesn’t … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
You don’t hear a lot about Cinder these days, I realize, so I thought I’d catch you up with what’s going on in his world via our text exchanges. Jane: This is your boarding pass. Have a good trip. Two weeks later: Cinder: Landed. Jane: Here. Cinder: K. Next day: Cinder: My course schedule is … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
i Uniform. Ready? Ready. Game face on. Go. I love clothes. Not for me the grey sweat suit. Or the understated beige sweater twin set (I have no idea what a twin set is, tbh, I keep on reading about it in books, but the characters who wear them invariably sound beige and unexceptional, and … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
It’s not really cold. A low of eight degrees overnight, the temperature climbing to 14-15 degrees by noon. A gorgeous, perfect fall day. I start it by the fire wrapped in a blanket—you suggest that I would be more productive sitting at my desk, but what do you know? Chairs are uncomfortable, and Truman Capote, … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
Last week, I started drafting a post celebrating and documenting Calgary’s Pride 2019 and telling you why it is we march—and why if you don’t get that it’s political, that all the joy and dancing and laughter and singing around Pride is so political, then you shouldn’t come to our glitter party—but I couldn’t make … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
i I am waking up early these days. The new gig is like a new baby—threatening to take up all of my time with its demands. So I wake up before it does, and, wrapped in the pre-dawn darkness and my bath robe, do my morning pages, drink my coffee—very, very slowly—and give my time … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
i Another two weeks, more, of daily hand-written pages, ideas—one really great post about how kids take good parenting for granted—and that’s how it should be—but why da fuq does my daughter notice how hard doing all the things is for her dad, but never, ever noticed it for me, nor does so now—and perhaps … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
i Jane: That’s it. I’m done. I can’t walk another step, I’m calling an Uber. Cinder: Come on, Mom. We’re almost there. All the cool stuff is just around the corner. Jane: You said that two kilometres ago. And four kilometres ago. Cinder: We’re almost there. Don’t be a wuss. Jane: OMFG why will you … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
In summary: Monday was an emotional rollercoaster; Tuesday an emotional hangover. Wednesday—CRASH! Thursday, so, sick, I planned my funeral. (I wasn’t going to invite you, by the way. Just because.) Friday, I decided I was going to live; Saturday, I felt loved. Sunday, the coughing started. To flesh things out a bit: I got really, … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
I’m re-reading Julia Cameron’s Finding Water: The Art of Perseverance, one of her “sequels,” if I can be permitted to call them that, to her revolutionary creative recovery program, The Artist’s Way. I have a cynical suspicion that both Finding Water (2006) and its predecessor Walking in the World (2003)—as well as Cameron’s myriad The … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
File under “things we never thought we would say to our children”: Sean: The hand sanitizer is not for throwing at your siblings! + Sean: Stop! If you go that way, you’re just going to run into more naked people in wheelchairs. + Sean: Do not put mustard packets down your mother’s shirt! Do not … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
i Pen, notebook, coffee, my comfy chair. This should be a happy moment except that upstairs, a child wants to die. Yesterday, she sees tear-streaks on my face. “Have you been crying? Why are you upset?” My lips make words. “It’s hard to watch you suffer.” She puts a hand on my arm. “I don’t … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
January 6 i She’s 15 and we’re still at home. ii This past November, I was anticipating that December would be hard. Anniversaries always are. In December—which wasn’t great, but which wasn’t so bad, it could have been so much worse, things had been so much worse—I started to look forward to a New Year. … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
i I always wear my cowboy boots on my business trips to Toronto. I don’t know whether your neck of the woods has a city that thinks it’s the centre of the universe and disses everyone who’s not from it—probably, eh? And then, the flipside: a city that knows it’s not the centre of the … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
i Happy Saint Nicholas Day! Today is the day that children in Poland and other countries touched by the legend look in the boots they shined the night before and find a little present, perhaps some candy, and, in the case of my brother and me, a letter from Saint Nick setting out exactly what … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
i A text from London: “Have you heard, how are you feeling, wanted to check in on you, knew it would hit you hard.” I haven’t heard. But now that I have, I’m fine. The impending death, current suffering of someone I’ve neither seen nor thought about in twenty, more, years doesn’t pain me. Does … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
drafted in late November i Flora: Am I still your “most likely to grow up to be a serial killer child”? Jane: Yes? Flora: You’re not sure? Jane: I’m sure, but I’m not sure what answer you want to hear? ii Flora and I are walking briskly in the cold-not-cold November air from her house … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
monday paying the price for overdoing it on sunday, will I never learn? (probably not) BUT I actually… can I tell you? Can you handle this? I’m enjoying the sick. (Well, except for the sharp pain in my throat and chest.) I was SO FUCKING TIRED. Ok. This time, I’m going to rest until I … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
I turn 45 this month—this week—this day, hey, it’s today!—and I suppose now, when you call me middle-aged, I can’t say fuck off, because what else is this? My native language has a much better term for this time of life—it translates as “in the strength of life,” and it’s a term that’s applied, incidentally, … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
in brief Monday, I turned 44 and I did all my favourite things, went to bed happy. Tuesday, I shared good news with the world, also did math with Cinder, was not so bad. Actually, it was AWFUL, and yet, not so bad. Wednesday, weepy, no real reason, every reason, maybe I missed you, maybe … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
monday I write and then I vegetate except for when I do battle with the fridge—totally unfulfilling, but someone had to take that bitch down—rearrange all the furniture in the kitchen (and then put it back), go to yoga, do two loads of laundry, and murder all the dust bunnies hiding under our bed. I … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
i Morning. Coffee. Notebook. My morning pages usually start with a list like this—things, concrete objects—sometimes sounds and smells. Kettle boiling, whistling. Cinnamon on my fingertips. Traffic outside the window, or is that birdsong? And more words follow, eventually. Sometimes, I write about what I really think and feel. But often, I just ska... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
i On Saturday, Sean and I decide to head to Costco, because—fuck, I don’t know. Because, I have a ton of marking to do and I need a break, because he needs to study for a test and doesn’t want to, because we are out of dog food, because the seal on the toilet is … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.wordpress.com
PART I i 13 is hard. Do you remember? I remember it as the year of tears. I couldn’t stop crying. Flora’s 13 now. I remember, I remember—but mostly, I hide from her, because faced with her volatilty, I want to yell. Thank goodness she has a Daddy who knows how to talk to her. … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
Note from process journal: “FIGURE SHIT OUT.” Right. Getting on that. Right now. Note to self: NOT AT ANY PRICE. Note to children: I LOVE YOU. DON’T SET THE HOUSE ON FIRE WHILE I’M OUT. Note from SIL: 28 hours in labour. Text from Sean on Saturday: Dad said he will be here on Monday … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
I am trying to not cancel plans. Past me made these plans purposefully, to try to shake off the “It’s February and still dark and my lover is in Egypt woe is I” blues. On Friday: a High Performance Rodeo play with a hot girl (also, tall, so tall). On Saturday: a walk with an … ... mehr auf nothingbythebook.com
