The exercise:
Write a four line poem about something or someone that is: timid.
All right, the caulking is over and done with. Such a frickin' messy job.
So what's left for the bathroom reno? Put in the shelves we bought this morning, construct a proper patch in the ceiling for the attic access, and paint. I think that's it. Oh, and make a little mini-shower curtain for the window, in order to keep water from collecting in there when we shower.
Almost there. Thankfully. Though I'm pretty sure Max would like it to go on for at least another year.
He was literally running around the house this afternoon, bringing tools out, 'fixing' things with them, and then rushing off to put them away so he could grab another one. It's hard to send him away when he gets so excited, but at some point it's far too much trouble having him around if we want to actually get any work done. Or too dangerous.
The plan tomorrow is to get our first seeds of the year started in the greenhouse. Because, somehow or another, it's that time of year again.
Mine:
They kept urging him not to be
As timid as his old man,
So he sucker punched the bully...
Then he ran and ran and ran.
Friday February 27th, 2015
The exercise:
Write four lines of prose about: the saboteur.
How is it the second last day of February already? March begins on Sunday? Craziness.
Kat's dad and I got the shower rod and light fixture installed this afternoon. I was supposed to do the caulking work afterward but I ran out of steam, so that'll have to wait until tomorrow.
Part of the reason I didn't have the energy for more renovation fun was that I spent the morning with Max, getting reacquainted with our home town. We hit our favorite coffee shop, the hardware store, and a couple other places we used to frequent.
Ran into a few people we know as well, which is always nice. It's good to be back.
Mine:
The street market is crowded, full of impatient shoppers with sharp elbows and sharper glares - not to mention the soldiers, both uniformed and undercover. It's unpleasant as hell, but it's also popular for a very good reason: the best produce in the city can be found here.
Which is all well and good, but I need to find my contact somewhere in this mess.
Or perhaps not... though I'll have to wait until I reach a more private location before I can confirm that the new weight in my back pocket is indeed the information on my next target.
Write four lines of prose about: the saboteur.
How is it the second last day of February already? March begins on Sunday? Craziness.
Kat's dad and I got the shower rod and light fixture installed this afternoon. I was supposed to do the caulking work afterward but I ran out of steam, so that'll have to wait until tomorrow.
Part of the reason I didn't have the energy for more renovation fun was that I spent the morning with Max, getting reacquainted with our home town. We hit our favorite coffee shop, the hardware store, and a couple other places we used to frequent.
Ran into a few people we know as well, which is always nice. It's good to be back.
Mine:
The street market is crowded, full of impatient shoppers with sharp elbows and sharper glares - not to mention the soldiers, both uniformed and undercover. It's unpleasant as hell, but it's also popular for a very good reason: the best produce in the city can be found here.
Which is all well and good, but I need to find my contact somewhere in this mess.
Or perhaps not... though I'll have to wait until I reach a more private location before I can confirm that the new weight in my back pocket is indeed the information on my next target.
Thursday February 26th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about someone or something that is: bitter.
Back home in Osoyoos. Even with the unfinished bathroom it feels nice. And Max, quite unsurprisingly, was thrilled to spend the afternoon at Grandma and Papa's house while I did some reno work with Kat's dad.
We got the toilet reinstalled, the shower fixtures back in, and some trim and finishing work done. Still need to do more caulking and get the shower rod up, along with some other finishing stuff, but we're close. I think.
Famous last words.
Anyway. It's nice to be basically living in one place again. Even if we're only here for a week before we hit the road.
Mine:
As I walk these streets. As I sit at my desk and try to accomplish anything work related. At each meal, every single bite. As I get into bed at night, remaining until sleep comes for me at long last. In my dreams.
There is no escape. It follows me everywhere, at all times.
I've tried evading its clutches with drugs. Killing it with alcohol. Distracting myself with gambling, thrill-seeking, beautiful (and not so beautiful) women. Nothing works. Nothing relieves my suffering, not even for a moment.
I am tired of it. So very, very tired.
An ending is required. A final chapter to the horror story that has become my life since you left. I cannot continue much longer. I must find a way to rid myself of the bitter taste in my mouth that appeared the instant you turned away. I must find solace. I must find peace.
I must, I must, I must...
Write about someone or something that is: bitter.
Back home in Osoyoos. Even with the unfinished bathroom it feels nice. And Max, quite unsurprisingly, was thrilled to spend the afternoon at Grandma and Papa's house while I did some reno work with Kat's dad.
We got the toilet reinstalled, the shower fixtures back in, and some trim and finishing work done. Still need to do more caulking and get the shower rod up, along with some other finishing stuff, but we're close. I think.
Famous last words.
Anyway. It's nice to be basically living in one place again. Even if we're only here for a week before we hit the road.
Mine:
As I walk these streets. As I sit at my desk and try to accomplish anything work related. At each meal, every single bite. As I get into bed at night, remaining until sleep comes for me at long last. In my dreams.
There is no escape. It follows me everywhere, at all times.
I've tried evading its clutches with drugs. Killing it with alcohol. Distracting myself with gambling, thrill-seeking, beautiful (and not so beautiful) women. Nothing works. Nothing relieves my suffering, not even for a moment.
I am tired of it. So very, very tired.
An ending is required. A final chapter to the horror story that has become my life since you left. I cannot continue much longer. I must find a way to rid myself of the bitter taste in my mouth that appeared the instant you turned away. I must find solace. I must find peace.
I must, I must, I must...
Wednesday February 25th, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the puppet.
Spent most of the morning at the play cafe with Max while Kat ran some errands in Penticton. She picked us up and we went for lunch before running a couple more together and heading home.
I managed to use some of my time to myself this afternoon to get caught up on comments once again. That actually felt like an accomplishment, as posts without a response from myself were about to start heading onto the second page of the blog.
This evening we began the task of packing our things up, as tomorrow we return to Osoyoos. I'll be back here on Tuesday to finish cleaning and collecting whatever doesn't fit into the car this time, otherwise our time here is at an end.
We won't be in Osoyoos for very long though, because a week today we'll be leaving for Vancouver. We'll spend four or five nights there before going over to Vancouver Island to spend a week at my parents place.
Looking forward to reconnecting with friends and getting Max some more quality time with his Nana and Pop.
Mine:
In the black
Of this box
You cannot see
My purple socks,
And my pants
(A dark green)
Must remain
Sadly unseen.
It's lonely
Down in here;
Feels like it's
Been a year
Since the sun
Shined on me
And I smelled
The salty sea.
Surely soon
I will be freed
From this dark
Misery;
My master
Will finally come
To shove his hand
Right up my bum.
Write about: the puppet.
Spent most of the morning at the play cafe with Max while Kat ran some errands in Penticton. She picked us up and we went for lunch before running a couple more together and heading home.
I managed to use some of my time to myself this afternoon to get caught up on comments once again. That actually felt like an accomplishment, as posts without a response from myself were about to start heading onto the second page of the blog.
This evening we began the task of packing our things up, as tomorrow we return to Osoyoos. I'll be back here on Tuesday to finish cleaning and collecting whatever doesn't fit into the car this time, otherwise our time here is at an end.
We won't be in Osoyoos for very long though, because a week today we'll be leaving for Vancouver. We'll spend four or five nights there before going over to Vancouver Island to spend a week at my parents place.
Looking forward to reconnecting with friends and getting Max some more quality time with his Nana and Pop.
Mine:
In the black
Of this box
You cannot see
My purple socks,
And my pants
(A dark green)
Must remain
Sadly unseen.
It's lonely
Down in here;
Feels like it's
Been a year
Since the sun
Shined on me
And I smelled
The salty sea.
Surely soon
I will be freed
From this dark
Misery;
My master
Will finally come
To shove his hand
Right up my bum.
Tuesday February 24th, 2015
The exercise:
Write two haiku about: narcolepsy.
Eh, seemed appropriate with all the late night naps I've been having.
Brought Max back to the local library for story time this morning. The librarian read a few bedtime themed children's books and then I helped Max make a night sky (black paper, glued on a white moon, placed an abundance of sticker stars, drew a face on the moon, and then continued to draw all over the place as Max saw fit).
This afternoon we had a Skype chat with my parents, who we will be visiting in... oh hey, exactly two weeks today. That's coming up pretty quick all of a sudden.
Wanted to share this picture I took of Max at the play cafe yesterday - a rare moment alone in the bouncy castle:
I know Max will love living a five minute walk from Kat's parents once we're back in Osoyoos, but I'm also certain he'll be less than thrilled at being so far away from this fun wonderland.
Mine:
A comfortable
seat, nice music... and now he's
out behind the wheel
* * *
They say I have a
problem. I say they should make
things more interesting.
Write two haiku about: narcolepsy.
Eh, seemed appropriate with all the late night naps I've been having.
Brought Max back to the local library for story time this morning. The librarian read a few bedtime themed children's books and then I helped Max make a night sky (black paper, glued on a white moon, placed an abundance of sticker stars, drew a face on the moon, and then continued to draw all over the place as Max saw fit).
This afternoon we had a Skype chat with my parents, who we will be visiting in... oh hey, exactly two weeks today. That's coming up pretty quick all of a sudden.
Wanted to share this picture I took of Max at the play cafe yesterday - a rare moment alone in the bouncy castle:
I know Max will love living a five minute walk from Kat's parents once we're back in Osoyoos, but I'm also certain he'll be less than thrilled at being so far away from this fun wonderland.
Mine:
A comfortable
seat, nice music... and now he's
out behind the wheel
* * *
They say I have a
problem. I say they should make
things more interesting.
Monday February 23rd, 2015
The exercise:
Write about something that is: uncanny.
Had fun driving around and taking pictures this morning. Went out for a look around White Lake and Twin Lakes, then came back through OK Falls and around the east side of Skaha Lake up to Penticton. I only had a very general idea of where I was going in the first stage, but it proved to be good enough.
I took this shot while I was trying to figure out which way to go to get down to the shore at Twin Lakes:
Turned out? Not this way.
At least I didn't go much further before realizing I needed to turn around.
This afternoon I hung out with Max at the play cafe while Kat taught yoga and ran some errands. It always feels like there are a thousand little interactions when we're there and I want to share most of them.
But it's late and any one of them would take some time to tell, so I'll just say 'My son is friggin' awesome' and leave it at that for now.
Mine:
I can't stop staring at the woman standing alone at the other end of the bar. High heels, short black dress, curly blonde hair. She's checking her watch when she's not keeping an eye on the door, and when she's not doing either of those things she's swirling the ice in her drink.
It's all rather captivating, but not the reason she's got me looking.
I mean, I'm trying not to be obvious about it. And I don't think she's noticed yet. But it's only a matter of time if I keep this up.
The bartender returns, asks if I want another. Maybe I should send a drink her way. Probably not a good idea. Besides, what if proximity ruins the effect? Best to keep my distance, just take in the view from here.
But I'm telling you, man, it's crazy how much she looks like my sister. Damn, do I ever still miss her...
Write about something that is: uncanny.
Had fun driving around and taking pictures this morning. Went out for a look around White Lake and Twin Lakes, then came back through OK Falls and around the east side of Skaha Lake up to Penticton. I only had a very general idea of where I was going in the first stage, but it proved to be good enough.
I took this shot while I was trying to figure out which way to go to get down to the shore at Twin Lakes:
Turned out? Not this way.
At least I didn't go much further before realizing I needed to turn around.
This afternoon I hung out with Max at the play cafe while Kat taught yoga and ran some errands. It always feels like there are a thousand little interactions when we're there and I want to share most of them.
But it's late and any one of them would take some time to tell, so I'll just say 'My son is friggin' awesome' and leave it at that for now.
Mine:
I can't stop staring at the woman standing alone at the other end of the bar. High heels, short black dress, curly blonde hair. She's checking her watch when she's not keeping an eye on the door, and when she's not doing either of those things she's swirling the ice in her drink.
It's all rather captivating, but not the reason she's got me looking.
I mean, I'm trying not to be obvious about it. And I don't think she's noticed yet. But it's only a matter of time if I keep this up.
The bartender returns, asks if I want another. Maybe I should send a drink her way. Probably not a good idea. Besides, what if proximity ruins the effect? Best to keep my distance, just take in the view from here.
But I'm telling you, man, it's crazy how much she looks like my sister. Damn, do I ever still miss her...
Sunday February 22nd, 2015
The exercise:
Write about: the hole in the wall.
Had a nice, lazy Sunday with my family. Pancakes and bacon for breakfast, a short walk in the neighbourhood, watched a few videos. Just what the doctor ordered.
Hoping to go for a photography outing tomorrow morning. Will share a few of the results if that happens.
Mine:
"Jeez, Dad... where did you get that hideous painting?"
"It was up in the attic, buried under a box of your mother's clothing. It was the only thing I could find on such short notice."
"There's no way this belonged to Mom... wait, what? Short notice? What was the hurry?"
"I needed to cover the hole in the wall."
"What? A hole in... what happened while I was out? I was only gone for like twenty minutes!"
"Had a little accident. Nothing major, really. The hole isn't even that big, in my opinion."
"Not sure I believe that."
"Huh? Why not?"
"If it's not very big, why rush to cover it up?"
"Oh, well... the voice coming from inside the wall was very adamant about maintaining his privacy."
Write about: the hole in the wall.
Had a nice, lazy Sunday with my family. Pancakes and bacon for breakfast, a short walk in the neighbourhood, watched a few videos. Just what the doctor ordered.
Hoping to go for a photography outing tomorrow morning. Will share a few of the results if that happens.
Mine:
"Jeez, Dad... where did you get that hideous painting?"
"It was up in the attic, buried under a box of your mother's clothing. It was the only thing I could find on such short notice."
"There's no way this belonged to Mom... wait, what? Short notice? What was the hurry?"
"I needed to cover the hole in the wall."
"What? A hole in... what happened while I was out? I was only gone for like twenty minutes!"
"Had a little accident. Nothing major, really. The hole isn't even that big, in my opinion."
"Not sure I believe that."
"Huh? Why not?"
"If it's not very big, why rush to cover it up?"
"Oh, well... the voice coming from inside the wall was very adamant about maintaining his privacy."
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