Sunday, June 5, 2022

WOTS: the joy of memoir, and honouring family

Happy to report that the WOTS memoir workshop with Helen Humphreys went well, at least, I think it did. A few people have emailed their appreciation. Because I was focussed on the talk, I didn't see how many were there or read the questions in the Chat or the words that came in at the end. Helen is warm and open; I liked her very much, could have spent the whole hour talking to her, but we each spoke and answered a lot of questions. 

I've been busy in the house; for some reason, it was time to do more with my family picture wall, and then I moved the CD shelf to a better place and put my CD's in alphabetical order. I know, no one uses CD's any more. I not only do, I also use tapes. The discovery that's a game changer: I can write listening to classical music. So now I will.

A great-grandfather, grandparents on both sides, parents through the years, uncle and aunt, ex-husband, children, inlaws, a few friends, grandsons. My childhood pussycat Dido painted by my grandmother. So good to get these out of the big box and on the wall. 

House problems: not just the bees upstairs, but a mouse infestation down. I spent an hour today cleaning out under the sink and trying to patch the huge hole they use to get in, which was hard as it's where the pipes and the water shut-off valve is. I cut up the Kristyn Wong-Tam election sign and patched over the hole, put steel wool in places I couldn't tape. Presumably if that keeps them away from under the sink, they'll just go elsewhere. Hate traps, don't want to use poison. I need a cat. 

And a bee chaser. The termite guy is coming to check in a few weeks, because my neighbour two houses over says the termites are back at her place. 

Jeez. 

Yesterday, dear Annie, who's had a stressful few weeks, came for dinner on the deck. It was nice to decompress after the workshop with a friend; I was speedy and buzzing as after a stage performance. Today, the Cabbagetown Garden Tour with Lynn and Nick. A gorgeous day, perfect, to tromp 5 kilometres around the 'hood poking in people's gardens. Have to say, I'll take mine, any day. 

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