Beth Kaplan's Blog, page 196
September 17, 2015
Terry Fox and TIFF
Former student now friend and colleague - and one of my editors - Chris Cameron has a beautiful piece in today's Globe about being inspired by Terry Fox. An opera singer, a talented writer, an endurance athlete - how many combine those disparate talents with such panache and grace? Bravo, Chris.
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/facts-and-arguments/terry-foxs-passion-sparked-my-lifelong-devotion-to-running/article26382899/
These are Cinderella days. Toronto's film festival, one of the biggest in the world, is on now, so I'm reading in the paper about all the movie stars in town, the red carpet, who wore what. My friends JM and Richard are out every day, the first to see fab new films, while I sit in my dressing-gown reading all about it. I don't go to TIFF because it's too much like a job - a lot of work to go through the enormous catalogue, pick the films, work out a schedule, mail in the requests, block out the time needed not just to see the films but to get there, line up, get from one to the other. I'm exhausted just writing about it. If the movies are really good, I reason, they'll get a general release and I can see them without all the hassle. But then, I miss a lot of spectacular films, and in the dull humdrum of my days, there are no sparkling glimpses of movie stars.
Oh well. First world problems.
Another: I finally stayed up late enough to watch "The Late Show with Stephen Colbert." Of course, I'm still in mourning for Jon Stewart, find it hard to believe, each night, that at 11 he's not there, waiting for me with wit and wisdom. 11 I could do; 11.30 is usually too late, but I finally made it, and was saddened; it seems to me, on one half-hours viewing, that the deeply ethical and intelligent Colbert has been sunk by the American entertainment machine. Capering, giggling, foolish stunts, a barrage of quips - what happened to the man with a sharp-eyed message about rightwing idiocy? His only fine moment came with a brief quip about Trump, and then it was back to silly. Am I wrong, those of you who watch? It made me depressed. Another good one gone.
On Tuesday night I met two younger writers who also teach at U of T at the Drake for drinks; they'd invited me to a book launch at the Gladstone nearby. I was thrilled to be at the epicentre of trend, sitting outside on the Drake's patio surrounded by cool, talking writing with two youngish writers of enormous promise. Now that's a good use of my time.
Today my calendar is blank until the evening, when I go to see Emmylou Harris, hooray. A blank calendar is a rare treat; the days are more and more full as we move into fall. The weather is beautiful again, sunny and hot with a hint beneath of what's to come. Quick - no time to waste. To work.
But FIRST a quick detour to FB and a gorgeous musical treat: Eric Clapton and Macca - and Ringo! - in a tribute to George Harrison, with George's son Dhani, a perfect clone of his dad, playing with them. At the run on Sunday, I ran into Davey, the son of a very dear friend and neighbour, Len, who died of cancer a decade ago. Davey was there with his toddler, who he told me is named Len. It made me cry. Here's to the power of genetics and honouring our fathers.
https://www.facebook.com/MusicalHallFlashBack/videos/466956453461206/ Lito P Garcia
http://www.theglobeandmail.com/life/facts-and-arguments/terry-foxs-passion-sparked-my-lifelong-devotion-to-running/article26382899/
These are Cinderella days. Toronto's film festival, one of the biggest in the world, is on now, so I'm reading in the paper about all the movie stars in town, the red carpet, who wore what. My friends JM and Richard are out every day, the first to see fab new films, while I sit in my dressing-gown reading all about it. I don't go to TIFF because it's too much like a job - a lot of work to go through the enormous catalogue, pick the films, work out a schedule, mail in the requests, block out the time needed not just to see the films but to get there, line up, get from one to the other. I'm exhausted just writing about it. If the movies are really good, I reason, they'll get a general release and I can see them without all the hassle. But then, I miss a lot of spectacular films, and in the dull humdrum of my days, there are no sparkling glimpses of movie stars.
Oh well. First world problems.
Another: I finally stayed up late enough to watch "The Late Show with Stephen Colbert." Of course, I'm still in mourning for Jon Stewart, find it hard to believe, each night, that at 11 he's not there, waiting for me with wit and wisdom. 11 I could do; 11.30 is usually too late, but I finally made it, and was saddened; it seems to me, on one half-hours viewing, that the deeply ethical and intelligent Colbert has been sunk by the American entertainment machine. Capering, giggling, foolish stunts, a barrage of quips - what happened to the man with a sharp-eyed message about rightwing idiocy? His only fine moment came with a brief quip about Trump, and then it was back to silly. Am I wrong, those of you who watch? It made me depressed. Another good one gone.
On Tuesday night I met two younger writers who also teach at U of T at the Drake for drinks; they'd invited me to a book launch at the Gladstone nearby. I was thrilled to be at the epicentre of trend, sitting outside on the Drake's patio surrounded by cool, talking writing with two youngish writers of enormous promise. Now that's a good use of my time.
Today my calendar is blank until the evening, when I go to see Emmylou Harris, hooray. A blank calendar is a rare treat; the days are more and more full as we move into fall. The weather is beautiful again, sunny and hot with a hint beneath of what's to come. Quick - no time to waste. To work.
But FIRST a quick detour to FB and a gorgeous musical treat: Eric Clapton and Macca - and Ringo! - in a tribute to George Harrison, with George's son Dhani, a perfect clone of his dad, playing with them. At the run on Sunday, I ran into Davey, the son of a very dear friend and neighbour, Len, who died of cancer a decade ago. Davey was there with his toddler, who he told me is named Len. It made me cry. Here's to the power of genetics and honouring our fathers.
https://www.facebook.com/MusicalHallFlashBack/videos/466956453461206/ Lito P Garcia
September 15, 2015
Macca and moi, together at last
For those of you who thought I made up my early marriage to Paul McCartney, here's a photograph that proves that we really were together, way back then ...
Or maybe not - since he looks so very young and the old bag beside him does not. But thank you, dear friend Chris, who's so adept with Photoshop, for making my dream come true for a minute or two.
Just rented an Autoshare car for the first time in ages and drove madly around town doing errands and buying heavy things, like computer paper at Staples and milk and most of all, wine. I got two cases. That should last me a week or two.
LOL.
Yesterday early afternoon, I met Anna, Eli and Ben at the West End Y to get Eli registered for swimming lessons, just like his mother lo these many years, then we all had lunch in the beautiful garden of old friends Jessica and Geoffrey nearby, then walked north to Long and McQuade where I bought the acoustic guitar I'd ordered from Quebec, the very last 65th birthday present for myself. In my teens I played and sang, badly, soulful folk songs and lots of Joni Mitchell, and now I intend to do the same. "And the seasons, they go round and round ..." "Suzanne takes you down ..."
Last night, the term started at Ryerson, a nice full class, the usual fascinating bunch, lucky me.
It is boiling hot, blazing sun. And on the weekend, when thousands of people wanted to roam the streets of C'town, it was freezing and wet. Sheesh. Still, first world problems. The pictures in the newspapers make me feel like the richest person on earth.
Or maybe not - since he looks so very young and the old bag beside him does not. But thank you, dear friend Chris, who's so adept with Photoshop, for making my dream come true for a minute or two.Just rented an Autoshare car for the first time in ages and drove madly around town doing errands and buying heavy things, like computer paper at Staples and milk and most of all, wine. I got two cases. That should last me a week or two.
LOL.
Yesterday early afternoon, I met Anna, Eli and Ben at the West End Y to get Eli registered for swimming lessons, just like his mother lo these many years, then we all had lunch in the beautiful garden of old friends Jessica and Geoffrey nearby, then walked north to Long and McQuade where I bought the acoustic guitar I'd ordered from Quebec, the very last 65th birthday present for myself. In my teens I played and sang, badly, soulful folk songs and lots of Joni Mitchell, and now I intend to do the same. "And the seasons, they go round and round ..." "Suzanne takes you down ..."
Last night, the term started at Ryerson, a nice full class, the usual fascinating bunch, lucky me.
It is boiling hot, blazing sun. And on the weekend, when thousands of people wanted to roam the streets of C'town, it was freezing and wet. Sheesh. Still, first world problems. The pictures in the newspapers make me feel like the richest person on earth.
September 14, 2015
the elite
The winning Senior Women of the Cabbagetown Mini-Marathon: 4th, 3rd, 1st and 2nd. Gina wearing the cabbage had two very small grandchildren running too, and the one with the anti-Harper button hopes to run with her older grandson next year. Proud of us, girls!In fact, I don't think any other senior women even enter this competition - only, year after year, this sleek bunch of gazelles. You do understand I am a very slow runner, right? That every year, in the middle of this very short race, I wish I'd done even a little bit of training. And yet there I am in the winning circle. No one is more amazed than I.
Much more importantly, I was just checking my Goodreads page - to find that a fine person called Robyn, who reads a lot of good books, rated my book more highly than the best-selling Miriam Toews! Now, that's being in the winner's circle.
Robyn rated a book
All My Loving: Coming of Age with Paul McCartney in Parisby Beth Kaplan (Goodreads Author)read in February, 2015Want to ReadRate this book1 of 5 stars2 of 5 stars3 of 5 stars4 of 5 stars5 of 5 starsApr 05, 2015 07:22AM · like · comment · preview book Robyn rated a book
All My Puny Sorrowsby Miriam Toewsread in March, 2015Want to ReadRate this book1 of 5 stars2 of 5 stars3 of 5 stars4 of 5 stars5 of 5 starsApr 05, 2015 07:18AM · like · comment · preview book
September 13, 2015
running in the cold
Just spent my usual Sunday afternoon from 3 to 4 cooking and listening to Eleanor Wachtel - another old friend and fabulous woman to add to the list. Made a ratatouille and the last of my green beans engrossed in her fascinating conversation with Jonathan Franzen, who does not suffer fools gladly and obviously loves Eleanor, as does anyone who likes writing and thought. Her interview last week with Oliver Sacks, replayed from the archives on the occasion of his death, was a masterpiece. CBC's Writers and Company is available as a podcast. Get out your saucepans and give her a listen.
This is the weekend of the joyous Cabbagetown Festival, a special one this year as I had a friend and her sister in from London England, visiting Canadian family, coming to see Canada for the first time at our festival. And I have to say, I cannot remember worse early September weather, ever, and I've enjoyed these festivals for nearly 30 years. Both days, cold and wet and grey, just miserable. Luckily the rain stopped for awhile yesterday afternoon and this morning; it was still cold, but at least the musicians could play and we could walk around, poking into the garage sales and the crafts fair, eating street food and meeting friends. Anna has long wanted a shed for her backyard, to store all the sleds, tricycles and water pistols cluttering up her apartment, and we've been watching Canadian Tire sales; even the cheapest that are big enough are over $500. But yesterday, I found a shed in a box for $120. Getting it home - pulled on a child's wagon - and across town were challenges, as it weighed a ton, but that's what the C'town Fest can do - provide a shed in a box. For myself, I bought the only thing I need - 6 beautiful wine glasses for $10. Hmmm. Time to try them out. Excuse me for a moment.
A perky French pinot - the wine isn't great, but the glass is perfect.
This morning was the annual fundraising "mini marathon" - two or three kilometres through the neighbourhood, a friendly run with many dogs and children as well as a few serious speedsters and a few faithful old regulars, like moi. It was so cold this morning, I almost didn't go, but I was inspired by my friends Chris and Sam, ultra-marathoners and triathletes, crazy people who run, bike and swim through all kinds of hideous weathers and situations. I could just see their faces if I didn't do 2.5 k because it was a tiny bit chilly. So I put on some warm stuff and went, and of course it was wonderful, so much fun, my 'hood. And - well yes, I have to tell you, she said modestly, that I came third in the Senior Women's category, age 56 to 98. It's the same group of us every year. Last year Marion ran past me at the last minute, and this year I ran past her, waving as I went, but she passed me again. Marion was second. The extremely speedy Sylvie, who's a serious long-distance runner, was first, and my Sackville neighbour Gina was fourth. I do have to say, I think I'm the only true senior citizen in the bunch. Ahem.
So now my legs hurt, and this raunchy pinot isn't making my aches feel better. But my prize, a gift certificate to the Peartree Restaurant to which I've already invited my family, is taking the sting of the cold away. And tomorrow I teach.
This is the weekend of the joyous Cabbagetown Festival, a special one this year as I had a friend and her sister in from London England, visiting Canadian family, coming to see Canada for the first time at our festival. And I have to say, I cannot remember worse early September weather, ever, and I've enjoyed these festivals for nearly 30 years. Both days, cold and wet and grey, just miserable. Luckily the rain stopped for awhile yesterday afternoon and this morning; it was still cold, but at least the musicians could play and we could walk around, poking into the garage sales and the crafts fair, eating street food and meeting friends. Anna has long wanted a shed for her backyard, to store all the sleds, tricycles and water pistols cluttering up her apartment, and we've been watching Canadian Tire sales; even the cheapest that are big enough are over $500. But yesterday, I found a shed in a box for $120. Getting it home - pulled on a child's wagon - and across town were challenges, as it weighed a ton, but that's what the C'town Fest can do - provide a shed in a box. For myself, I bought the only thing I need - 6 beautiful wine glasses for $10. Hmmm. Time to try them out. Excuse me for a moment.
A perky French pinot - the wine isn't great, but the glass is perfect.
This morning was the annual fundraising "mini marathon" - two or three kilometres through the neighbourhood, a friendly run with many dogs and children as well as a few serious speedsters and a few faithful old regulars, like moi. It was so cold this morning, I almost didn't go, but I was inspired by my friends Chris and Sam, ultra-marathoners and triathletes, crazy people who run, bike and swim through all kinds of hideous weathers and situations. I could just see their faces if I didn't do 2.5 k because it was a tiny bit chilly. So I put on some warm stuff and went, and of course it was wonderful, so much fun, my 'hood. And - well yes, I have to tell you, she said modestly, that I came third in the Senior Women's category, age 56 to 98. It's the same group of us every year. Last year Marion ran past me at the last minute, and this year I ran past her, waving as I went, but she passed me again. Marion was second. The extremely speedy Sylvie, who's a serious long-distance runner, was first, and my Sackville neighbour Gina was fourth. I do have to say, I think I'm the only true senior citizen in the bunch. Ahem.
So now my legs hurt, and this raunchy pinot isn't making my aches feel better. But my prize, a gift certificate to the Peartree Restaurant to which I've already invited my family, is taking the sting of the cold away. And tomorrow I teach.
September 11, 2015
fabulous women!
My former writing student now friend Laurel Croza, whose first book for children, I Know Here, came out of a writing assignment for class and went on to spectacular success, including a review in the New York Times and several huge writing prizes, has done it again. Her second book, a sequel, From Here to There, has been nominated for the prestigious Marilyn Baillie Picture Book Award. Laurel is a focussed, meticulous and powerful writer who, hard as it is to believe now, had never done any creative writing before coming to my class. She still sends work to me to read and edit, and I am happy to send some of my work over to her, asking for her honest and perceptive eye.
Brava Laurel. What's next? I know you're hard at work on it, whatever it is.
And speaking of what's next ... one of my oldest and dearest friends, Lynn from the south of France, as she is known among my blog readers, has just retired. She did things differently than most of us baby boomer women - she had her children (five!) very early and then went back to school, eventually earning the French equivalent of a Ph.D. in linguistics - she was smart enough to choose as her thesis topic an aspect of the works of Alice Munro, who went on, as we know, to some acclaim in the world - and in her late fifties, beginning a university teaching career. Not surprisingly, she rose to become head of various departments, sitting on important committees and publishing articles in scholarly journals.
Lynn and I first met at Carleton University in 1967, I just 17 and she, as I always like to remind her, A YEAR OLDER. We became instant best friends and have remained best friends for nearly 50 years, despite her spending her entire adult life in France and I much of mine in Vancouver. Long before email, we kept in touch with letters and occasional visits; whenever we saw each other, we were immediately teenagers again. She is one of the youngest people I know, one hot, beautiful and joyous Ph.D. Here she is at her retirement party.
She's coming to visit in October - there will be more Champagne and much laughter and Motown music and dancing. Beloved friend, brava to you on your illustrious career, not to mention your EIGHT GRANDCHILDREN.
Other great women - my friend Grace has finished her first year at U of T and came over tonight to help me get organized; we spent two hours in my office digging through the mountain of paper and now my desk is a hundred times lighter, and my recycling bin much heavier. Tomorrow Anna's best friends Holly and Nicole are coming to help with the garage sale I have every year at the Cabbagetown Festival, for which, unfortunately, rain is predicted. Perhaps the junk will just have to come back inside till next year - let's hope not!
The best news is that today baby Ben had his "procedure" at Sick Kids, where they cut the twisted tendon of his foot and straightened it; he got through it in record time and now has a cast which will set the foot in its right position. In only a few months, his feet will look normal and he'll just have to wear special shoes at night for a few years. Another brava - to his brave, strong mother, and to Barb at Sick Kids whose life's work is to make parents and children dealing with sideways feet healthy and happy. And lucky me - I got to spend the day with Eli. We argued at one point, and I said, "You will find, young man, that I am always right." And he replied, "But I am the most rightest."
Yes, yes you are. And so like your mother, you stubborn, fierce little soul.
I was at a U of T event at University College last night, leading off the teaching year - what a pleasure it is to be in those elegant old buildings.
There are many interesting people to talk to, and, even better, the food is delicious and the wine is flowing. Happiness is.
Happy weekend to you all, you fabulous women - and men.
Brava Laurel. What's next? I know you're hard at work on it, whatever it is.
And speaking of what's next ... one of my oldest and dearest friends, Lynn from the south of France, as she is known among my blog readers, has just retired. She did things differently than most of us baby boomer women - she had her children (five!) very early and then went back to school, eventually earning the French equivalent of a Ph.D. in linguistics - she was smart enough to choose as her thesis topic an aspect of the works of Alice Munro, who went on, as we know, to some acclaim in the world - and in her late fifties, beginning a university teaching career. Not surprisingly, she rose to become head of various departments, sitting on important committees and publishing articles in scholarly journals.
Lynn and I first met at Carleton University in 1967, I just 17 and she, as I always like to remind her, A YEAR OLDER. We became instant best friends and have remained best friends for nearly 50 years, despite her spending her entire adult life in France and I much of mine in Vancouver. Long before email, we kept in touch with letters and occasional visits; whenever we saw each other, we were immediately teenagers again. She is one of the youngest people I know, one hot, beautiful and joyous Ph.D. Here she is at her retirement party.
She's coming to visit in October - there will be more Champagne and much laughter and Motown music and dancing. Beloved friend, brava to you on your illustrious career, not to mention your EIGHT GRANDCHILDREN.Other great women - my friend Grace has finished her first year at U of T and came over tonight to help me get organized; we spent two hours in my office digging through the mountain of paper and now my desk is a hundred times lighter, and my recycling bin much heavier. Tomorrow Anna's best friends Holly and Nicole are coming to help with the garage sale I have every year at the Cabbagetown Festival, for which, unfortunately, rain is predicted. Perhaps the junk will just have to come back inside till next year - let's hope not!
The best news is that today baby Ben had his "procedure" at Sick Kids, where they cut the twisted tendon of his foot and straightened it; he got through it in record time and now has a cast which will set the foot in its right position. In only a few months, his feet will look normal and he'll just have to wear special shoes at night for a few years. Another brava - to his brave, strong mother, and to Barb at Sick Kids whose life's work is to make parents and children dealing with sideways feet healthy and happy. And lucky me - I got to spend the day with Eli. We argued at one point, and I said, "You will find, young man, that I am always right." And he replied, "But I am the most rightest."
Yes, yes you are. And so like your mother, you stubborn, fierce little soul.
I was at a U of T event at University College last night, leading off the teaching year - what a pleasure it is to be in those elegant old buildings.
There are many interesting people to talk to, and, even better, the food is delicious and the wine is flowing. Happiness is.Happy weekend to you all, you fabulous women - and men.
September 10, 2015
U of T's Life Stories nearly full
Update: I've just learned that my U of T class, which doesn't start till October 6, is already almost full - there's only one place left. So if that's the one you want, you'd better move fast. There is still a bit of room at Ryerson but not much.
Woo hoo!
Tomorrow the Cabbagetown Festival starts, and the neighbourhood will go nuts. My British friend Liz is visiting Canadian relatives with her sister and is coming to check out the activities on Saturday; she loves jumble sales, as they call them in England, and will have more than her fill here - including my own. The weather right now is heaven - hot with a breeze. Tonight my home class arrives, stories in hand, and work starts for the fall term of 2015.
This afternoon I saw my shrink. I still see her periodically because I love her, and she might also be fond of me. There's someone out there who knows just how much it means that these days, I'm as tranquil and productive as I am; this woman knew me just as my marriage was falling apart and then through the tormented years of divorce and small children, when I was going mad with grief and stress and fear and exhaustion. I'm a zombie of calm in comparison now. A good kind of zombie. Happy to stagger into her office and babble.
And there's my woodpecker, working away outside. As I will be soon, right here.
Woo hoo!
Tomorrow the Cabbagetown Festival starts, and the neighbourhood will go nuts. My British friend Liz is visiting Canadian relatives with her sister and is coming to check out the activities on Saturday; she loves jumble sales, as they call them in England, and will have more than her fill here - including my own. The weather right now is heaven - hot with a breeze. Tonight my home class arrives, stories in hand, and work starts for the fall term of 2015.
This afternoon I saw my shrink. I still see her periodically because I love her, and she might also be fond of me. There's someone out there who knows just how much it means that these days, I'm as tranquil and productive as I am; this woman knew me just as my marriage was falling apart and then through the tormented years of divorce and small children, when I was going mad with grief and stress and fear and exhaustion. I'm a zombie of calm in comparison now. A good kind of zombie. Happy to stagger into her office and babble.
And there's my woodpecker, working away outside. As I will be soon, right here.
September 9, 2015
Michael Coren - today's hero in the Star
I've written about him before - the extraordinary Michael Coren, who went from angry narrow-minded right-wing blowhard to open, thoughtful, articulate left-wing commentator in just over a year. If only everyone of his stripe could go through this miraculous conversion, what a beautiful world it would be! As my friend Lynn posted on FB yesterday, "If you see your god as angry, racist, sexist, violent and cruel, you are creating him in your own image."
Something like that.
Coren has written a superb piece in the Star today. I wrote to thank him, and he wrote back to say he'd had lots of abuse about the piece. Not a surprise.
http://www.thestar.com/opinion/commentary/2015/09/08/voting-conservative-not-the-christian-thing-to-do.html
And - more good news for us seniors - Canada is one of the best countries in the world to grow old.
THE BEST 10 COUNTRIES1. Switzerland2. Norway3. Sweden4. Germany5. Canada6. The Netherlands7. Iceland8. Japan9. United States10. United KingdomTHE WORST 10 COUNTRIES1. Afghanistan2. Malawi3. Mozambique4. Palestinian territories5. Pakistan6. Tanzania7. Zambia8. Rwanda9. Uganda10. Iraq
Something like that.
Coren has written a superb piece in the Star today. I wrote to thank him, and he wrote back to say he'd had lots of abuse about the piece. Not a surprise.
http://www.thestar.com/opinion/commentary/2015/09/08/voting-conservative-not-the-christian-thing-to-do.html
And - more good news for us seniors - Canada is one of the best countries in the world to grow old.
THE BEST 10 COUNTRIES1. Switzerland2. Norway3. Sweden4. Germany5. Canada6. The Netherlands7. Iceland8. Japan9. United States10. United KingdomTHE WORST 10 COUNTRIES1. Afghanistan2. Malawi3. Mozambique4. Palestinian territories5. Pakistan6. Tanzania7. Zambia8. Rwanda9. Uganda10. Iraq
re Beth's classes and body parts
Dear writers, my Ryerson class True to Life starts next Monday at 6.30 and is a go, filling up quickly. It runs to November 16. Ryerson is now running a Writing Certificate program; if you take a certain number of required courses, you earn the certificate.
http://ce-online.ryerson.ca/ce/calendar/default.aspx?id=5§ion=course&mode=course&ccode=CWWR%20336
The U of T class, Life Stories I, starts Tuesday October 6; it's a day class, from 12.30 to 3, until November 24. U of T, which has recently been voted one of the top 25 universities in the world, already has a certificate program. You don't need a certificate to become a good writer, but it's fun to have a goal and a piece of paper.
http://learn.utoronto.ca/interactive-course-search#/profile/2281
Officially I start teaching tomorrow night in my home class, and have been editing privately all summer. But mostly I've been working at my other work - writing. It really is true that for free-lancers, work is always, but mostly in your own time. Ideal, as far as I'm concerned.
Today Bruce, the cable engineer from Bell, came by one last time to seal the deal - they are going to bury the hideous tangle of cables that runs through my back yard and my neighbour's. He's efficient and courteous and a very nice guy; I am now a huge fan of Bell. Cineplex, on the other hand, has not responded to my request for a refund, though I detailed how I was charged twice for a movie, paying over $80 for 3 of us to see Minions. Good guys/bad guys. But always first world problems.
Speaking of being spoiled in the first world department, yesterday I went bra shopping. The array in my top drawer was simply unsatisfactory, and my fashionista friend Debra said the Bay was the place to go. The store on Queen is being renovated, a huge mess, and by the time I got to the 6th floor and saw the vast array of feminine accoutrements, I was ready to turn around and go home. However, luckily I did not because a treat was in store: Maggie. Maggie is a diminutive Swiss woman who understands the female form. It took awhile - she was dealing with a complicated female form - but in the end, I left with not one but three new bras that are comfortable and fit perfectly. I wrote to the company to praise her and am now sending every woman I know to Maggie. She is at the Bay on Queen from Monday to Thursday. Tell her Beth sent you.
http://ce-online.ryerson.ca/ce/calendar/default.aspx?id=5§ion=course&mode=course&ccode=CWWR%20336
The U of T class, Life Stories I, starts Tuesday October 6; it's a day class, from 12.30 to 3, until November 24. U of T, which has recently been voted one of the top 25 universities in the world, already has a certificate program. You don't need a certificate to become a good writer, but it's fun to have a goal and a piece of paper.
http://learn.utoronto.ca/interactive-course-search#/profile/2281
Officially I start teaching tomorrow night in my home class, and have been editing privately all summer. But mostly I've been working at my other work - writing. It really is true that for free-lancers, work is always, but mostly in your own time. Ideal, as far as I'm concerned.
Today Bruce, the cable engineer from Bell, came by one last time to seal the deal - they are going to bury the hideous tangle of cables that runs through my back yard and my neighbour's. He's efficient and courteous and a very nice guy; I am now a huge fan of Bell. Cineplex, on the other hand, has not responded to my request for a refund, though I detailed how I was charged twice for a movie, paying over $80 for 3 of us to see Minions. Good guys/bad guys. But always first world problems.
Speaking of being spoiled in the first world department, yesterday I went bra shopping. The array in my top drawer was simply unsatisfactory, and my fashionista friend Debra said the Bay was the place to go. The store on Queen is being renovated, a huge mess, and by the time I got to the 6th floor and saw the vast array of feminine accoutrements, I was ready to turn around and go home. However, luckily I did not because a treat was in store: Maggie. Maggie is a diminutive Swiss woman who understands the female form. It took awhile - she was dealing with a complicated female form - but in the end, I left with not one but three new bras that are comfortable and fit perfectly. I wrote to the company to praise her and am now sending every woman I know to Maggie. She is at the Bay on Queen from Monday to Thursday. Tell her Beth sent you.
September 8, 2015
a hill of beans!
The hottest days of the summer so far have been in September - weird. The last two have been brutal. Yesterday I rode my bike across town - almost safely all the way, on the bike trail along the waterfront - to meet Anna and the boys by Summerside Pool for a swim. But it was incredibly crowded with a lineup at the door, so we picnicked under a tree instead. Not quite as good.
It hurts to watch my grandson figure out his life. He has been wounded, no question - his beloved mother, with whom he was joined at the hip, is now joined to someone else, tired and impatient just when he wants to hang onto her with every bit of strength he has. He has phenomenal energy and is bouncing off the walls when she wants him to be quiet and not disturb the baby. This is a scene that has played out in families countless times, but still, it pains me to watch a boy I love so much going through it. He is so like his mother, stubborn, contrary and social. I remember at this stage, when her brother was a newborn, she was at a nursery school, and one day I left the baby with someone and went to pick her up. She was in the playground and did not want to leave. "But we have to," I said. She turned and appraised me coolly. "You think you're so great," she said. She was three! I knew I was in big trouble. And now her son is the same kind of fierce, feisty, rambunctious child, only with four times the physical energy.
He spilled milk all over his pants in a restaurant. This person is 3 1/4. Doesn't he look like 29, only with no pants, to you?
Today's excitement: picking tons of beans and tomatoes:
and making a delicious dish with onions, garlic, white wine, basil:
My own veggies! Very proud.
Speaking of proud - well, I printed out and read the memoir so far. And once again, I have to say there's something there. 61,000 words, for a start. Lots more to be done, but I did manage to carve out time this busy summer. Work starts this week, but I'll still be able to do some writing until things really go nuts in October. Oh I love it so, the mulling, fiddling, reading, pondering, adding, subtracting. Maybe, as my friend Chris pointed out, all this work will amount to almost no remuneration again. I just got out of the library a beautiful, massive book about my favourite Canadian artist David Milne - Painting Place, by David Silcox. Milne painted all his life and barely made enough to live on, worried about money constantly. So I'm in good company.
Have been watching TV as research - CNN's terrific series on the Seventies and last night a documentary about Jean Vanier's L'Arche, both important for my book. I've entered the obsessive phase; everything is linked somehow to the current project. Tonight - if I can make it to 11.30 - Stephen Colbert's first show! I have so missed Jon Stewart - but at the same time, it has been something of a relief not to confront the idiocies of the planet, especially the American planet, on a daily basis.
Finally - I promise I'll stop. But could not resist this pic.
Macca with one of his grandchildren. I know just how he feels.
It hurts to watch my grandson figure out his life. He has been wounded, no question - his beloved mother, with whom he was joined at the hip, is now joined to someone else, tired and impatient just when he wants to hang onto her with every bit of strength he has. He has phenomenal energy and is bouncing off the walls when she wants him to be quiet and not disturb the baby. This is a scene that has played out in families countless times, but still, it pains me to watch a boy I love so much going through it. He is so like his mother, stubborn, contrary and social. I remember at this stage, when her brother was a newborn, she was at a nursery school, and one day I left the baby with someone and went to pick her up. She was in the playground and did not want to leave. "But we have to," I said. She turned and appraised me coolly. "You think you're so great," she said. She was three! I knew I was in big trouble. And now her son is the same kind of fierce, feisty, rambunctious child, only with four times the physical energy.
He spilled milk all over his pants in a restaurant. This person is 3 1/4. Doesn't he look like 29, only with no pants, to you?Today's excitement: picking tons of beans and tomatoes:
and making a delicious dish with onions, garlic, white wine, basil:
My own veggies! Very proud.Speaking of proud - well, I printed out and read the memoir so far. And once again, I have to say there's something there. 61,000 words, for a start. Lots more to be done, but I did manage to carve out time this busy summer. Work starts this week, but I'll still be able to do some writing until things really go nuts in October. Oh I love it so, the mulling, fiddling, reading, pondering, adding, subtracting. Maybe, as my friend Chris pointed out, all this work will amount to almost no remuneration again. I just got out of the library a beautiful, massive book about my favourite Canadian artist David Milne - Painting Place, by David Silcox. Milne painted all his life and barely made enough to live on, worried about money constantly. So I'm in good company.
Have been watching TV as research - CNN's terrific series on the Seventies and last night a documentary about Jean Vanier's L'Arche, both important for my book. I've entered the obsessive phase; everything is linked somehow to the current project. Tonight - if I can make it to 11.30 - Stephen Colbert's first show! I have so missed Jon Stewart - but at the same time, it has been something of a relief not to confront the idiocies of the planet, especially the American planet, on a daily basis.
Finally - I promise I'll stop. But could not resist this pic.
Macca with one of his grandchildren. I know just how he feels.
