Writing about writing.

Grieving is draining. I’ve been trying assorted distractions, mostly from the comfort of my camping chair. On Sunday night, I started on a new episode of Season 8 of Wentworth before deciding that it was too intense, so I switched to Avatar: The Last Airbender. When I couldn’t focus on the storyline, despite it being aimed at preteens, I switched to some garbage videos on YouTube. When that didn’t do the trick, I went to bed. It wasn’t even 10 pm.

Before I continue this post, I want to thank those who checked in with me after reading my last post. It made me feel supported. For future reference, I can also be reached at squaremeat at gmail or lkvy at hotmail. Yes, I can be trusted to transfer large amounts of money into an overseas bank account.

So, I still compose personal emails because I’m old fashioned. Last night, I took it a step further by breaking out the stationery and gel pens:

Sheets of stationery paper with "Hello old pal... old pen pal..." written in purple ink. The text printed on the stationery reads: Purple tears. The jewel of the shape of tears shines very much."
Continue reading “Writing about writing.”

Ask me about my cherry tree.

We have a cherry tree outside our place. Last year it was just a tree. No cherries. Naturally, I’ve been going around bragging about my new cherry tree even though I wouldn’t touch the cherries. The tree has some sort of infestation of the insect variety. A friend told me yesterday, “It’s a bad year for Gypsy Moths.” 

I think she meant good: they’re clearly well-fed. Apparently, I have a friend who is an authority on Gypsy moths. Meanwhile, I can barely identify trees.

Unlike me, small critters are finding the cherries to be edible, so the tree has been attracting House Finches (I’m not good at identifying birds either: I had to google) and squirrels to ogle at. Squirrels are among the cutest animals to watch eat. This cherry tree may not provide me with fruit; instead, it provides me with entertainment.

I love our new cherry tree.

Oh, and I have a job.

Continue reading “Ask me about my cherry tree.”

It’s still easier to make hats than new friends.

Three and a half years go, I knitted my first scarf. Since then, I have knitted four toques. I nearly finished a fifth in the time it took to drive from Montréal to Vancouver, but when I got to the stitch decreases for the crown, I decided my handiwork was a waste of fancy yarn and unravelled the whole thing.

I’ve started something new, but it is not going well. Reading a knitting pattern is a skill I have yet to master. It goes something like this:

1: K1, P2, K2, K1togbl2, *K2, P2; rep from * across, end K2.

2: K1below, P3

3: Alternate between rows 1 and 2, until you realize that you’ve spent hours doing the wrong thing, and clench your jaw so hard in anger that your teeth shatter.

Ah, what a relaxing hobby.

Continue reading “It’s still easier to make hats than new friends.”