Home Body

I ventured out into the real world yesterday and discovered that while there are interesting things out there, I really am just a homebody who longs to get home to her hermitage in the hills.

Tammy, Carlos and I went to a Mexican place in the Glebe for lunch. I had the Mexican Flag (enchiladas) and loved the whole dish ... especially the green and creamy white sauces. Then we headed off to the textile artists' show where we met up with Yvonne and her friend. There were really innovative things being woven.

Predictably, I was drawn to the felting exhibits, and learned a few new things about constructing shapes and the variety of bases on which to build. Several people were weaving and felting with dog hair. One was making cat toys with it.

But I was also intrigued by the work of Denise Atkinson who weaves metals into beautiful jewellery, especially her chain link bracelet woven from several metals. It felt like fabric it was so soft on my wrist. My urge to buy it was restrained by a lack of cash. And really, where would I wear it anyway? Mary Ann obviously had places to go and people to see for she bought a gift there and a piece of sea glass jewellery for herself.

Tammy bought scraps of felting wool and silkworm cocoons to incorporate into her own art, and Yvonne bought felted mittens and a great pair of lime green felted slippers. Carlos tried on brightly coloured felted hats with Mercury wings, but, like me, he came home empty handed. My pockets, however, were filled with the cards of felting suppliers and a hastily made-up card from Denise. That chain link bracelet keeps on whispering sweet nothings in my ear.

I decided to try making felted slippers myself and maybe incorporating silkworm cocoons into the design. They won't be as wonderful as the $200 custom made slippers with the elfin faces that Yvonne didn't buy or as glorious as the ones she did buy, but they will be fun to have for guests to put on when they leave their boots at the door.

It was late afternoon when we left, and the others continued on to the Market for coffee and another art show there. I just wanted to go home ... so I picked up Kenya at Tammy's and headed back up to the hills. They were predicting freezing rain for today so I parked 1/4 kilometre away to avoid the need to climb a slippery hill with summer tires.

Today I am going to get down to the job of reading the first book for the book club: Your Brain on Music. Why does it feel suddenly as if I have homework? Maybe because I had started to read another book I was finding really interesting? Or maybe because there is a deadline? Or maybe I have simply become really self indulgent in my old age. Maybe I like the sensation of floating through life with as few boundaries or restrictions as possible.

Anyway my day will be spent reading the book, going out to a neighbourhood coffee party at 10:30, and fitting in dog walks between the rain drops. And I might just design the first pair of slippers.

Tidying Up and Looking Ahead

Yesterday I baked bread ... whole wheat challah from a recipe I received by email ... and banana bread from all those bananas that almost didn't make it through the storm. Kenya and I were finally able to deliver food to Barry. Gerry, his next neighbour, says Barry is getting spoiled; that he can't possibly eat everything we bring; that he'd be glad to help out.

I also sorted out my calendar so that I won't miss the things I really want to do this month. I don't mean the regular things like pottery class and the book club evening, or the doctor's appointment; I mean the art and craft shows that are all on before Christmas.

So far my next three weekends look like this!

November 2 Ottawa Valley Spinners and Weavers with Tammy and Yvonne

November 8 Marta is telling stories at the National Library from 10-12
Cathy and Dave have a show from 1-5

November 9 The 260 Fingers Pottery show is on all afternoon

November 13-16 The Ottawa Valley Potters' Show ... I think I will go after my doctor's appointment at the Riverside on Friday.

I am hoping to learn things at all the shows but especially this afternoon as these fabric artists are working with all kinds of materials and many also have sheep for felting materials.

Hope your weekend is a good one and that you have lots to look forward to.

8 Hours of Sleep

Wow! When did that last happen? Both Kenya and I slept like babies last night. Wonder where that expression came from. Babies are not really deep sleepers. But I guess "slept like teenagers" would not conjure up the same images of round bums and peach skin ... sprawling gangliness instead.

It is still dark and the poinsettia plant remains tucked in the closet for the rest of the 14 hours of darkness it needs daily in the fall if it is to bloom in December. As soon as it is light outside I will take Kenya for a walk and feed Oberon. If Kenya's tummy seems to be back to normal I may plan a day in town.

I'd like to buy gas since it is lower than it has been for a while, visit Sarah and Remi in their new house, and spend some time with Tammy. I have to run errands but none are essential today.

But there are some places to explore: a concrete house on Pretoria whose exterior has been decorated by its artist-owner , the Mid-East grocery store where my nose will be sublimely happy, and the Sally Ann where I can just poke about looking for treasures.

Or I may just start to do some felting and finish the pair of special mitts I am making for my arthritic fingers, and put off the trip to town till Thursday.

It feels wonderful to have energy, enthusiasm and choices simultaneously.

The Hermit Leaves the Lake ... Test Run ...

Such excitement! We delivered the laptop to Tammy and then I dropped Kenya at Marta's and went to the Amakhozi show.

I was expecting more African faces ... but then the tickets were very expensive. (Thank goodness mine came as a gift!) The price didn't stop rather large families from buying tickets, and a large contingent of mentally and physically handicapped people were there. One of the charities had likely donated the tickets ... and a good thing, too, because they were a wonderfully enthusiastic audience. Only the middle section was filled. Perhaps a dozen or so of the the other 2/3 of the seats were taken. Despite all that, the enthusiasm of the players was contagious.

It was a story, but the sound system or the acoustics in the tent distorted the storytelling voice, so I would be hard pressed to give you the plot line. It didn't really matter though. The strength of the production was the performance itself. In many ways it reminded me of Cirque du Soleil productions. Not quite as slick, but also filled with trapeze performances, jugglers, acrobats, singing, dancing, and infused with colour, beauty, and energy.

The costumes were usually brightly coloured and often wonderful. Monkeys with round pink and blue bums cavorted on a trampoline. There were grasshoppers whose wings were made of fragments of thin fabric held together with ropes so that they flowed realistically. The bigger- than-life zebra puppets carried by dancing players were my favourites. Their heads were realistic, but the bodies were made of thin filmy fabric with the stripes merely suggested. There were many elaborately sculpted head dresses. Lots of bright reds and yellows, the colours I associate with Africa.

Other things of note: the ten foot tall stilted men; the cheerful black dancer in an massive beehive head piece who was able to portray great indignation; and everyone's ability to get the whole audience rhythmically clapping with the djembe drums.

I think the thing that impressed me most, possibly because I am a sucker for metaphor, was the subtle way they created effects and made you suspend disbelief. In particular was a night scene in which only the fluorescence was visible; and a stormy night at sea in which a juggler almost made me see the wind-tossed waves. A juggling pair were able to create an aura of silence amidst choral music, and had slowed everything onstage down to slow motion, creating the illusion that the storm had passed.

It was a good show. If I were to judge it against Cirque du Soleil, I would put it halfway between the first and last shows I saw them perform. What this one sometimes lacked in polish it more than made up for it in personality and humanity.

After the show I drove to Marta's to spend the night. We ate and took the dogs for a walk, and then went to bed. On my pillow was the short story she had written for me for my birthday: "Vancouver Can Wait". I love it.

Saturday morning was fun. A good breakfast and then a trip to Bruce Pit. I imagined Bruce Pit to be a barren hole in the ground, but it is beautiful. Woods and paths. And the dogs had a ball playing with other dogs and racing around. Kenya met a dachshund who reminded her of the nasty one that bit her nose, but this little guy had no fear of big dogs and they got along fine.

Back at Marta's I discovered the flat tire.

I spent three hours at Canadian Tire. At first we just stayed in the car. I read and Kenya snoozed. Then, after the car went into the shop, I took Kenya for a walk in the rain, and then decided to sit quietly in the waiting room. An old lady objected so we left and sat on the cement floor in a corner of the parking area where we could see my car when it was driven out. As soon as it appeared, Kenya went back in the car and I paid the bill. The old lady's friend apologized, and I was gracious. She had more of a problem than I did. Imagine being afraid of nice dogs, especially nice, quiet, exhausted dogs who just want to collapse like rugs on the floor.

By the time I got home I was ready to collapse on the floor beside her. Just too much excitement for a hermit and her dog.