My friends and family, and those of you in my electronic community, usually ask me how I'm doing, and when I start spurting tears, chalk it up to "she's not doing that great."
Um, well, that's not exactly accurate: frankly, I do pretty well most of the time. But when I'm asked, my response depends on how well I know you.
I lose it with family. Mine. His. Doesn't matter. Totally utterly unredemptively hysterical. Even when I'm alone. Maybe especially. No apologies.
I'm sure his family think I fall apart at the drop of a feather because I did it with them on an excessively recurring basis when I was in Ontario.
But I'm a lot better than I was. Yesterday, I drove our truck to the nearest gas station, put $10 of gas in at the self-serve pump, and then drove our regular grocery run, where they also have full-serve pumps.
Hi, I said to the nice young man, could you please fill this lovely old truck with regular? She's pretty thirsty.
And $120 and a full tank later, I parked, did the usual grocery shop, reset the time and preset radio channels, and drove home with Michael Enright blasting out the speakers.
OK, you're probably thinking, so what?
I had never ever put gas into this truck, and until two weeks ago, I was painfully frightened of ever getting behind the wheel again.
This was a major, and important, step to regain my sanity (well, such as it is) and my independence.
Don't let the public tears fool you.
So it wouldn't be a blog post without a few pictures, would it?
1. The cozy I knit for my new PC/Ubuntu netbook: it saved my unpadded backside in Ontario.
2. Scouting locations for new knitted installations showing up at my Fish Creek Provincial Park photography show that opens, assuming I get if framed up, May 14.
3. The Mill Pond in Dorchester, Ontario. It's a very nice place, with lots of wildlife.
I started my first solo performative installation/show today, down at the EPCOR Centre for Performing Arts. All things being equal, I'm around from 11 a.m. to 4 p.m. on weekdays (except for Victoria Day), through May 29. If you're downtown, and not a psycho nutter (y'all know who you are, and I will call Security), come and say "hi."
Monday, 9 May 2011
The shop is currently empty.