Yeah!*

* I've never been much a namer of things, but I'll call this fella "Alexandre" after our Gold-winning, drought-ending skier (thank you more stuff for schooling me on that point, as I've been paying shamelessly little attention). He's a wee gift from my sister numerous Christmases ago; found him today while tidying up the studio. How anyone could knit a maple leaf into a finger-sized sock puppet I'll never know.


Been having a ridiculously lovely day, sorting lights from darks and wovens from knits for when the crowd at the Laundromat thins. I love puttering around and although mj makes housework more fun, it also significantly reduces motivation levels, especially for a diss-writing girl with sketchy self-discipline in the first place. Instead I've been writing about my precious family, perhaps in honour of the recently instituted Family Day, but mostly 'cuz they're on my mind.

My mom's a stylin' kind of lady; a former schoolteacher, she taught us to read by three and drilled good nutrition into us despite our squawks for Honeycomb cereal and Oreos like the other kids got. Widowed way too young in my view, she finally accepted a new man into her retired life. He's great to hug and he treats her like a queen.

Dear daddy-o was taken unfairly young for such a good good man. That sucked plenty, but I know in my heart I've been ridiculously blessed to have had a father who adored my mom like crazy and understood what it took to raise us little squallers on such modest means. Dad-made dinners of Campbell's beef 'n barley soup with grilled-cheese sandwiches were weekly fare--just so mom could snatch some nap time--and we ate 'em just the same.

My twin sister--a book designer by profession, she's sweet as pie and camera-shy, which is why you'll never see her on blip. I was recently viewing an old super-8 home movie that suddenly cut to the pair of us as wee ones swinging on an old swingset and it made my heart billow like a sail. For how precious she is to me, there is no measure.

Her husband has stood by her since before they were twenty. A killer artist himself and one of the best chefs I know. I love you, brotherman.

My older brother would have beaten the snot out of any of my highschool boyfriends if ever I'd asked him to and there were a few who deserved it. He's a good husband to his wife plus a great dad to his own daughter and son, themselves now grown-up and fine. I guess by now he's made up for being such merciless tormentor when we were little.

So that's my family--each of us quirky and stubborn and not altogether together, and we love each other and that's the way it goes. I expect by now there'll be a few washers free, then I can nip out for milk and veggies during the rinse cycle. Have a super day.