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This week my mum was in town. She was her usual amazing self - she did fabulous work in the garden (and in doing so gave Ivy lots of exercise and discovered that Ivy has a future in catching frisbees) and rearranged my guest room and made my kitchen prettier and overall made it look like, well, an actual woman lives in this house with Cody. We hung out and talked (although she also hid in her room and read a lot). We debated politics and feminism and life, and we drove around town, and we mused about dad and kids, and I got her caught up on all the gossip with my friends.
My mother was always the cool mother when I was in high school and college. When there was hanging out to do, it was at my house. When my friends and I were having a sleepover (which consisted of watching Inuyasha on Adult Swim, playing chess, and plotting our novels), she would come bouncing into my room, declare us boring, and shower us with rolls of toilet paper so we could cause havoc in the neighborhood like proper teenagers. Naturally, we complied. We'd tug on dark hoodies and round up a couple of boys from down the street and pile into one car and pick a house (my stalker's house) and then TP away. And make sure to get the front lawn. And then flee when the lawn sprinklers came on.
Yes, we were terrible children. But we had fun. My mum helped us have fun.
She cooked lovely food for us while she was here, and I can only hope I'm at least half the homemaker she is before I die. Cody and I were both wonderfully well-fed, and that made life good. She came with me to the doggie play date that didn't actually happen, and we dithered about what color frisbee we should get Ivy. (Like Ivy cares. She's completely colorblind.)
I showed her my guns, and she was pretty horrified. But she took pictures of me and Cody posed around a rocking chair with our guns.
The most important part of her visiting was probably the conversation we had before she left. It was long and painful and there were tears, but essentially we came to an agreement: when it comes to the people we're closest with, we both have that terrible tendency to expect things of people, not communicate those expectations, and then be disappointed and hurt when those expectations are not met. (For years she wondered why I was emotionally repressed. For years I wondered why she hadn't realized I learned it from her.)
So we decided we both need to work on communicating better, and I think our relationship grew and matured. It'll be hard work going forward, but I think we have done better for ourselves.
Kris and Kym's wedding was this weekend, so Chani came to town. She and I sat around debating life, the universe, and everything, talking about writing and gaming and art and literature. She helped me in the garden. We filled an entire 15-gallon bag with leaves. She used the awesome leaf claws my mom left and I used a shovel. Ivy attempted to help by climbing on the pile of leaves and trying to hitch a ride on my shovel. On Saturday was also my ex-boyfriend's wife's baby shower. I saw my girl Rose there, and met some of Shannon's friends. We played games and exchanged gifts, and then I went home.
Kris and Kym's wedding was brief, but lovely. Our friend Logan did the ceremony (since Kym and Kris are already married Logan didn't really have to have any authority). There was tasty food and dancing and then Cody got peopled out and we went home. Kym said her wedding was Asian-themed, and she had pretty calligraphy scrolls on the walls. Also, she'd folded a thousand paper cranes to use as table centerpieces. The party favors were pretty chopsticks. She made all the bouquets out of silk flowers and yet more paper cranes. I wore the red sari I bought in Hong Kong. It's a lot lighter than the green-and-purple one Mum and Dad bought in Little India in Singapore, and I think I kinda rocked the look.
Today Cody and I skipped regular Sunday School to get a crash course in Family History. One of his very zealous relatives has managed to trace one family line back to the Twelfth Century. (Of course, once you hit land-owning nobility, their records are pretty meticulous, if only to preserve the whole land-owning thing).
A lot of family history has been done on my side, but there's still a ways to go, so I reckon maybe if I work on it a little each week, it's something Dad and I can bond over? If only because we don't bond over much these days. Also, I made a teeny tiny bit of headway into my biological mother's geneology, but since all I have is her name and not my father's name, I don't think I'll get super far. (Also, it's harder to find information on living people, since a lot of vital statistics are private for security purposes.) Still, it'll be fun to do.
I gave up on the baby "jean" jacket altogether and have settled on making a crocheted stuffed animal instead. I have a book full of cute animal patterns and lots of leftover yarn from projects in days past, so I'm thinking maybe I'll work my way through the book - and my way through the yarn - and build up a stash of either gifts for friends who are having kids or toys for my own kids. This week I did make a pair of dragon scale baby booties. My attempts to make dragon scale arm warmers went awry despite my following the pattern very closely, so I'll have to try again on my own with a different gauge yarn and hook. I made a little fringed triangle scarf for my niece. If I make it much bigger I can use it as a belly dancing hip scarf, but the one I made is too small for me, so I will give it to my niece so I can teach her to dance.
Also, I started doing zill drills. I found some videos online and I reckon if I focus on one drill per week and do it every day - each drill is only about ten minutes - then by the end of the video series I will be much better at using zills as musical instruments but also better at dancing with them.
I made a cloche for Liz up in the freezing wastes of Toronto and put it in the mail. Last week we posted on facebook that we were giving away one of Cody's handmade railroad spike letter openers, and it went right quick, so I sent it off in the mail. He made another one this week we gave to Kris and Kym as a wedding gift. All around, life is good. It's getting much colder now, so I have to find the motivation to take Ivy outside and play with her, because she doesn't deserve to be cooped up inside all winter. Also, she doesn't seem nearly as fussed about the cold as I am, but she is half husky.
Here's to a better week this week.
My mother was always the cool mother when I was in high school and college. When there was hanging out to do, it was at my house. When my friends and I were having a sleepover (which consisted of watching Inuyasha on Adult Swim, playing chess, and plotting our novels), she would come bouncing into my room, declare us boring, and shower us with rolls of toilet paper so we could cause havoc in the neighborhood like proper teenagers. Naturally, we complied. We'd tug on dark hoodies and round up a couple of boys from down the street and pile into one car and pick a house (my stalker's house) and then TP away. And make sure to get the front lawn. And then flee when the lawn sprinklers came on.
Yes, we were terrible children. But we had fun. My mum helped us have fun.
She cooked lovely food for us while she was here, and I can only hope I'm at least half the homemaker she is before I die. Cody and I were both wonderfully well-fed, and that made life good. She came with me to the doggie play date that didn't actually happen, and we dithered about what color frisbee we should get Ivy. (Like Ivy cares. She's completely colorblind.)
I showed her my guns, and she was pretty horrified. But she took pictures of me and Cody posed around a rocking chair with our guns.
The most important part of her visiting was probably the conversation we had before she left. It was long and painful and there were tears, but essentially we came to an agreement: when it comes to the people we're closest with, we both have that terrible tendency to expect things of people, not communicate those expectations, and then be disappointed and hurt when those expectations are not met. (For years she wondered why I was emotionally repressed. For years I wondered why she hadn't realized I learned it from her.)
So we decided we both need to work on communicating better, and I think our relationship grew and matured. It'll be hard work going forward, but I think we have done better for ourselves.
Kris and Kym's wedding was this weekend, so Chani came to town. She and I sat around debating life, the universe, and everything, talking about writing and gaming and art and literature. She helped me in the garden. We filled an entire 15-gallon bag with leaves. She used the awesome leaf claws my mom left and I used a shovel. Ivy attempted to help by climbing on the pile of leaves and trying to hitch a ride on my shovel. On Saturday was also my ex-boyfriend's wife's baby shower. I saw my girl Rose there, and met some of Shannon's friends. We played games and exchanged gifts, and then I went home.
Kris and Kym's wedding was brief, but lovely. Our friend Logan did the ceremony (since Kym and Kris are already married Logan didn't really have to have any authority). There was tasty food and dancing and then Cody got peopled out and we went home. Kym said her wedding was Asian-themed, and she had pretty calligraphy scrolls on the walls. Also, she'd folded a thousand paper cranes to use as table centerpieces. The party favors were pretty chopsticks. She made all the bouquets out of silk flowers and yet more paper cranes. I wore the red sari I bought in Hong Kong. It's a lot lighter than the green-and-purple one Mum and Dad bought in Little India in Singapore, and I think I kinda rocked the look.
Today Cody and I skipped regular Sunday School to get a crash course in Family History. One of his very zealous relatives has managed to trace one family line back to the Twelfth Century. (Of course, once you hit land-owning nobility, their records are pretty meticulous, if only to preserve the whole land-owning thing).
A lot of family history has been done on my side, but there's still a ways to go, so I reckon maybe if I work on it a little each week, it's something Dad and I can bond over? If only because we don't bond over much these days. Also, I made a teeny tiny bit of headway into my biological mother's geneology, but since all I have is her name and not my father's name, I don't think I'll get super far. (Also, it's harder to find information on living people, since a lot of vital statistics are private for security purposes.) Still, it'll be fun to do.
I gave up on the baby "jean" jacket altogether and have settled on making a crocheted stuffed animal instead. I have a book full of cute animal patterns and lots of leftover yarn from projects in days past, so I'm thinking maybe I'll work my way through the book - and my way through the yarn - and build up a stash of either gifts for friends who are having kids or toys for my own kids. This week I did make a pair of dragon scale baby booties. My attempts to make dragon scale arm warmers went awry despite my following the pattern very closely, so I'll have to try again on my own with a different gauge yarn and hook. I made a little fringed triangle scarf for my niece. If I make it much bigger I can use it as a belly dancing hip scarf, but the one I made is too small for me, so I will give it to my niece so I can teach her to dance.
Also, I started doing zill drills. I found some videos online and I reckon if I focus on one drill per week and do it every day - each drill is only about ten minutes - then by the end of the video series I will be much better at using zills as musical instruments but also better at dancing with them.
I made a cloche for Liz up in the freezing wastes of Toronto and put it in the mail. Last week we posted on facebook that we were giving away one of Cody's handmade railroad spike letter openers, and it went right quick, so I sent it off in the mail. He made another one this week we gave to Kris and Kym as a wedding gift. All around, life is good. It's getting much colder now, so I have to find the motivation to take Ivy outside and play with her, because she doesn't deserve to be cooped up inside all winter. Also, she doesn't seem nearly as fussed about the cold as I am, but she is half husky.
Here's to a better week this week.
