A Texan in Yaletown

Mother of pearl am I sore today. And it isn’t all Charlie’s fault. Though the thought of seeing him tomorrow at Cross Fit frightens me a little. Today, I cleaned the smallest apartment I’ve ever cleaned with a rather significant Texan trying to live there. I will call this client Tex. Tex is terribly incongruent in this Yaletown one bedroom designed for a teacup poodle who fits inside the tiny Gucci purse of a tiny Tokyo fashionista. Tex should be in a sprawling rancher, horses, cattle, fields of oil. Tex has a voice strong enough to yell over two sections…

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Cross Fit Charlie and the Chin Up

I circle the graffiti marked cross fit building off of Clark like a buzzard in my black gym strip until I find an entrance. It says something akin to Cross Fit Mad lab – be prepared for cardiac arrest – leave your ego at the door. I tremble in my Lulu Lemons, “You’re a long way from hot yoga, Toto.” I open the door and enter into a large simple rough manly lair of a warehouse gym. This is a real gym! It isn’t some gym posing as a hair salon or a juice bar. It’s a real gym with…

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Drunk Doug the Christmas Tree

We strap our leggy Douglas onto the roof of the mini (the tree larger than the vehicle) and put-put our way home, giddy with excitement. Nora and I are having Christmas early at Grammy and Poppa’s because my brother is in town so I thought we’d get into the whole spirit of the season early. We also have the Algerians here, shining a fresh light onto the whole beautiful absurdity of the season:   1)   Cut down a large tree from the forest and bring it into your house 2)   Gack it up and light it within an inch of…

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Turnip

Last night we closed Except in the Unlikely Event of War. We had two large audiences who whooped it up and we ended with an awesome young band featuring Zac Youssef’, (not sure if it was the Bank Dogs or just some of them – they were great https://www.facebook.com/events/722956794398624/ – and good friends stayed after for a little party. I came home and fiddled around until two thirty. Why? Well, I don’t think I wanted to wake up to being a maid in the morning.   But by this afternoon…   The sun is shining through the Westend apartment and…

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Glad You’re Gone

What an immense day, and beautiful, as always, because that is how I choose to see it.   This week, a former flame was in our audience. I hadn’t seen him since a very abrupt and painful breakup over a betrayal about a year and a half ago. He is a magnificent lover and a great mind and wrote beautifully. Seeing him brought back a flood of feelings. I sort of wanted to hug him and kick him and make love to him and mostly, I just wanted to fall asleep. It was too much. So, yes, indeed, I just…

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Night Riding

Night Riding   Today is so balmy for winter I pull on my fuzzy blue sweater and ride my bike to work for the matinee for fun. Plus, parking is six bucks and I need the exercise. For those of you who don’t live in Vancouver, our mayor has been adamant about putting in bike trails (unlike Rob Ford in Toronto who demolishes bike trails, but that’s a whole other story) and it is now very easy and safe for me and others to cross the city.   I get to ride through the lovely heritage part of Strathcona, skooch…

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and the balls came tumbling down

  Good morning idiot Lucia. You just wrote your daughter a nice part in the Christmas pageant, getting her all excited to act on stage with her Daddy, and you neglected to note that you and Nora won’t be in town. Nice. Now she’s going to cry and the church is freaking out, suddenly needing a director and an eight year old actor.   Also, despite the fact you feel really good, you got on a scale that told you only seven pounds were lost, not ten, and what did you do? You went home and ate cheese and crackers….

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New Boy

Nora has her pal, Nodin, here to play after school. Nora and Nodin are gregarious charming eight year olds who seem to be quite popular. (This is a bit of a mystery to all of us parents. We were all geeks in school as far as I know, ol’ skinny legs Ravensbergen and Fat Frangione and little Kopsa who got beat up for being swarthy…maybe James was cool…but I doubt it. He’s a brainiac…)   Nora decides to include the new boy in the game of tag they’re playing. The new boy’s chest immediately expands, his face breaks open with…

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Take Care

For the first time in three years I am not in chronic pain. I can’t believe it! 42 days of eating eight things (with one cheesecake slip) and I am now over all my allergic reactions. No eczema, hives, no itchy eyeballs, no sore heels, no gummy eyes, no nightmares, no sore tummies, no head aches, no strange moods. I’ve begun my testing now. The baddies are cheese, wine, white rice, wheat, coffee and bottled/mineral water. Vodka and carrots, however, are just fine.  Apparently, I went drinking with Bugs Bunny and couldn’t say no.   Today, I went on my…

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Grey Escape

On my drive back into Vancouver from teaching in Richmond I stop at a red on Cambie. The driver next to me is gesticulating some kind of wondrous movement with his smooth dark hands to his companion. I am mesmerized. Is he pulling toffee? Is he drawing apart wool? Is he stretching dough? Is he running his hands luxuriously through a woman’s long hair? Right below his window is the name “Escape”. Surely the escape isn’t the gray monstrosity passing for a vehicle…but him. His hands. The color of earth so rich, it releases endorphins just digging into it.  …

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