how quickly things change

herbie, on the day we all first met him.

this morning, i woke up happy.

i felt light and optimistic and happy in a way that i haven’t in a while.

i had good news to share: in addition to some exciting leads on work (!) during the day yesterday, last night, out of the blue, trixie had decided she would adopt herbie!

i couldn’t believe it. she and i had talked yesterday afternoon, and she said she’d been thinking about adopting him, but not in any serious way. then, around 9pm last night, she made a decision: herbie would come home with her. done and done.

i was overjoyed! and hugely relieved. not only would herbie – whom YB decided she’d rename “howard” (a name i also loved and one that totally fit this cat) – get to become a part of our family, but YB would be getting a wonderful cat and i’d be able to see him whenever i liked. we started planning for his arrival, when and where we’d pick up the necessary supplies, where his litter box would go, how i'd house- and catsit for her next weekend when she goes to the states, and so on. we were both excited, our parents were delighted, and we were all looking forward to welcoming this sweet little guy into a loving home. we were going to call the shelter this morning to officially put a hold on him. per their lost-and-found-pets policy, he wouldn’t be available for adoption until tomorrow (saturday), anyway, so as long as he got the all-clear from the vet, we’d go to pick him up this weekend.

unfortunately, though, the story of herbie has come to a very abrupt, unexpected and terribly sad end.

early this morning, before the shelter even opened, someone on staff called my mom. mom’s contact info had been taken down for herbie’s file when we dropped him off (because they knew we were considering adoption), so they called and told her that, sadly, the vet had deemed herbie too sick for adoption.

herbie had stopped eating and peeing over the past few days, had lost more weight and was throwing up. the vet tested him and discovered he’s in renal failure, and has lost about 75% of his kidney function. the condition is 100% fatal, though life expectancy can range from a couple of months to a couple of years, and requires medication, treatment and, eventually, dialysis. they were calling her to see if we still wanted to take herbie, in which case they wouldn’t euthanize, but they also stressed that his quality of life was declining and that he would continue to deteriorate.

it was absolutely heartbreaking news.

when my phone rang at 9:02am today, and i picked it up to hear my mom crying on the other end, i knew in my gut that it was something to do with the cat. and i was right. she tearfully filled me in on all of the above, during which i started crying, and we both agreed that, as devastating as it was, we didn’t want herbie to suffer. plus, the costs associated with his care, and the stress the treatments would cause him for an ultimate end that would be tragic regardless, were just too much. so, the vet is going to put him down.

before calling me, mom had already phoned trixie to break the news, and YB didn’t take it any better than we did. when i thought i’d finally composed myself enough to call trix without bawling, i did... only to have her start crying on the phone, which just made me cry -- i suspect we all spent the entire morning in tears over this adorable, affectionate cat that we’d known for all of a couple of days. i don’t think any of us expected herbie to crawl into our hearts so quickly and so completely in such a short time.

but he did.

it’s all been incredibly difficult and, three hours later, i have yet to stop crying, really.

first, the week of agonizing over what to do, then a joyous decision... immediately followed by this crushing blow. the poignant upside to this entire story is that we gave him a couple of days of love and care before the end of his life, and that his death will be much more humane than it would have been had he been left out on the streets to suffer slowly and alone.

sometimes, you get your heart cracked wide open in the most unexpected ways, and sometimes that happens at both ends of the emotional spectrum all at once.

rest in peace, little friend.

today...

... turned out to be quite the surprising day.

and a good day.

more tomorrow.

whathafa

so, i've decided to try this again.

this year, i signed up before the start date, instead of several days later.

because i'm emotionally exhausted from the cat saga...

here's a non-cat-related entry.

i'm seeing this on thursday morning,
and i hope it's as good as this trailer makes me think it might be.
i love jake gyllenhaal.
and anne hathaway looks hot with that hair.

that cat's meow

you know, i wish just one person, upon hearing the story of herbie/bones, had said:

“that was such a good thing you did, vickie. even though it was difficult for you and emotionally draining, you did the right thing. you rescued that little cat from the streets, gave it food and shelter and litter and a bed for the night, then brought it somewhere where it could receive the medical attention it needs and perhaps even be reunited with the owner who might have lost it. the cat is now safe and secure, warm and dry, eating and healing. good job.”

that would have been really nice.

but no one said that.

instead, with the exception of YB (whose analytical mind has been able to think rationally about this situation and who understands my concerns), the only thing i’ve heard is one variation after another on: “why didn’t you KEEP it?!? adopt that cat!!!!”

and the only thing that’s done is made me feel like a disappointment. like i’ve failed, or done something wrong, or made a big mistake, or heartlessly abandoned that cat. even though i know everyone meant well and wanted to be encouraging, the inadvertent side effect was me feeling like my kind act was rendered meaningless because, in fact, i hadn’t actually been kind enough.

yes, i LOVE animals and LOVE cats. yes, i’m lonely. but those two things aren’t reason enough for me to simply say, “okay, i’ll adopt!”

for starters, no one would ever dream of saying, “hey, you love babies and you’re lonely – you should adopt a baby!” or “you found a baby in the backyard? you should KEEP IT!”

there are plenty of people in the world who absolutely LOVE AND ADORE children but don’t have any of their own. same goes for pets.

adopting a cat is not something i take lightly. it’s a commitment of, potentially, 20 years. it’s a responsibility, and one that comes with its own set of costs. more importantly, in my opinion, having a support system when embarking on this kind of life-changing course is super-important. (and, make no mistake, it would be a life-changing course for me.)

thing is, i don’t have that support system.

i don’t have anyone around nearby who could help out – who could take care of the cat if i went on holiday, or tend to it for me in the event of an emergency, or just give me a lift to the vet's office so i don't have to take a cab – so i’d very much be a completely single parent... and i’m just not sure i’m ready for that.

likewise, for me, it’s not just a matter of “i like the cat, i’ll get the cat!”, it’s figuring out what that really means in the long run – after the novelty wears off. it’s about being realistic about my needs and expectations, the cat’s needs, and the actual hows of pet ownership.

how will i get to and from the vet? how will i find a good vet who doesn’t overcharge or whose rates are fair? what if the cat falls ill and needs surgery or expensive medication? am i ready to handle unforeseen costs that might be steep?

how will i deal with any behavioural problems that might arise with a cat? what if it won’t use the litter box (again)? what if it pees on my carpets? what if it tears up my furniture? what do i do with all my giant spider plants and assorted houseplants?

how will i cope if i bring this cat home and it’s suddenly not the cat i thought it was?

how will i manage to have a cat, and its stinky litter box, over the summers, when it’s hot and humid and my apartment is consistently above 80ºF?

how will i deal with the ambient litter-box smell? even the cleanest litter box has residual cat-pee odour, as do any carpets or furniture on which the cat walks after using the litter box, so what do i do to make sure my place doesn’t stink?

how will i go on vacation? or spend a weekend away? who’ll look after the cat while i’m gone? i know some people are fine leaving their cats home alone with food and water and then spending a night or two (or three) elsewhere, but i’m not. and boarding isn't free.

the questions go on. and, for me, having the answers, or at least some semblance of answer-like information so i can feel somewhat secure and confident, is key before proceeding. unfortunately, i’m not the kind of person who just dives into something this major and then hopes to figure it out later.

there’s also the issue of cost. amid hours of googling cat-related things today, i learned the estimated cost of basic cat care for a year has been calculated to be around $700 for food, litter, annual vet check-up, etc. if you’ll all recall, i had to declare a net loss on my taxes for 2009, and 2010 has been almost completely barren work-wise. thank god for my savings, because they’ve sustained me for the past two years... but i can’t keep living off them forever. if freelancing doesn’t magically pick up and i were to think about going back to work full-time to earn more money, then the cat would be alone all day... and that sort of defeats the purpose of getting a cat for company.

i also know myself well enough to know that were i to adopt this cat, my life would likely become All About the Cat. even the past few days have been completely consumed with this cat and i don’t even have it in my possession. i’m trying to get myself out of my own anxieties and fears and worries, not add more to the existing collection.

i’ve spent so much of this year trying to figure out my life and what i want and how i can get my shit together in a concrete way, and i still have no real sense of where i’m going or why or how. i’m still trying to get solid footing and find my direction. adopting a cat is a very definitive action at a time when i feel like i’m at my most uncertain. to me, that doesn’t sound like the ideal time to make any kind of long-lasting decisions, least of all expanding the family by adding a dependant.

all this to say, while i appreciate people’s enthusiasm at the notion of me bringing herbie home – and let’s not forget he’s not yet available for adoption, anyway, and must be held as a “found cat” at the shelter until the weekend – i also don’t want to feel guilted or pressured into doing something i might later regret. i'm the one who'd be responsible for the cat, and i really, really, really need to think it through.

this is not a cut-and-dry decision for me. it might be a very easy and obvious decision for someone else but, for me, right now, it isn’t.

so, while i continue to wrestle with what to do, i’ll keep reminding myself that i’m not a bad person if i don’t adopt herbie. if nothing else, at least i was a good samaritan who came into his life for a night when he needed me.

giving paws: epilogue

first thing saturday morning, after i’d fed kyle, i grabbed a bowl of kibbles and cup of water and headed out to my parents’ garage to see how little “bones” had fared overnight. it had been 10 hours since he (yes, the cat was later revealed to be a neutered male) had last seen me and last been fed, so i wondered if he’d bolt the second the door opened. i was also anxious to see if he’d thrown up the food he wolfed down the night before – a common side effect of binge eating in cats, and a common occurrence when a change of food happens – and whether he’d used the litter box we’d put out.

i talked to him through the closed door before opening it, and rattled the kibbles so he’d know food (and a familiar face) were coming in, then opened the door. he darted out from under my mom’s car, and went about five feet out onto the driveway before realizing i was there and that i had his breakfast in my hand.

then he was, once again, completely lovey dovey and wouldn’t leave my side. i investigated the garage – everything was in its place, there was no vomit anywhere, nothing on any of the shelves had been knocked over or disturbed in any way, the water i’d left was almost gone... and the litter box was untouched. drat. thankfully, though, there was no pee or poop anywhere, either, so at least we wouldn’t have to deal with getting that smell out from some remote corner or anything.

with bones practically glued to my shins, purring loudly the entire time, i refilled his water bowl and food bowl and watched him scarf down those kibbles. then he trotted out the open door – OMG! where are you going?! – and went to our neighbour’s front lawn... where he promptly squatted and pooped. double drat. i rattled the kibble bowl (i’d brought extra in case he got out and needed to be coaxed back into the garage) and he returned, then i asked my mom to watch him while i went and cleaned up his deposit.

we wondered how easy or difficult it was going to be to get the cat into a carrier for what would be a half-hour drive to the nearest animal services centre. i decided to give it a test run, and tossed a few kibbles into the carrier. bones crept right inside after them, i gently pushed his bum all the way in and then i closed the door behind him. success!

but he was a little distressed. he was still purring, but was also trying to get out. he was squeezing his nose through the bars and through the “windows” along the side, rolling on his back and pushing his paws against the ceiling of the carrier, then meowing in kind of a mild howly way. only a few minutes later, when i finally let him back out (much to his delight), did i see what was up – he’d had to pee (even though i put him right IN the litter box a couple of times and he hopped right out), and had been trying to tell me as much... but, when he figured he’d be in there for good, he gave up and peed INSIDE the carrier, on the small piece of carpet we’d put along its floor. poor guy!

so, we tossed the carpet, cleaned the carrier and just put a towel inside for later.

it was still early (before 9am), and the animal services centre didn’t open until 10:30am, so mom headed back into the house to have breakfast and i stayed in the (now closed) garage with bones to keep him company before his scheduled transport at 10am.

he kept right on purring and giving me hugs, never leaving my side. and then, much to my shock and amazement and delight, he walked over to the litter box, peered inside, gingerly put his front paws in to test it out... then stepped in, pooped out a pile of diarrhea (another common side effect of new food, and probably all that water he drank!), and covered it tidily with the litter. i was so excited to watch him do this that i didn’t move or make a sound the entire time he was in there, but as soon as he was done and he came back over to me, i rewarded him with three more kibbles and lots of praise.

he flopped down to take a shower (read: clean his bum), and i put a small pile of old rugs on the floor for me to sit on while he did so. when he was done, he walked over to me (STILL purring), curled up beside my thigh and rolled over for belly rubs. then, ever so tentatively, he looked at my lap. after a moment, he stepped onto it – ever so lightly! – curled up and went to sleep in my arms, purring the entire time. it was as though he knew he was finally safe, and could close his eyes in peace without worrying. so he did.

for a full half-hour.

for a full half-hour, we just sat there. me, cross-legged on some rugs on the cold cement floor of the garage; him, curled into a ball, eyes closed, purring, asleep. as corny or lame as it might sound, i was very moved by that time we had together and totally teared up. it was almost silent in there (save for the outboard-motor-like purring), and i just felt very glad i could provide this temporary sanctuary for such a sweet, and clearly weary, cat in need.

when it was time to go, we put him in the carrier again (he went quite easily and willingly), strapped it onto the back seat of the car and headed to the animal services centre. bones was calm and content the entire way there, never making a sound. he just lay down in the carrier, STILL PURRING!, and rode peacefully. (this is in stark contrast to kyle, who hates getting into his carrier and who meows loudly and desperately the entire time he’s in it.)

we arrived at the animal services centre just before they opened, but they let us in anyway. when they took my mom’s I.D. (since the cat was found on her property), they told us we’d come to the wrong shelter – that, due to the borough in which she lives, she needed to bring the cat to the appropriate shelter (agency rules)... which was 40 minutes away in the complete opposite direction. thankfully, they did give bones a quick once-over: he had no microchip (rats!), but he had been neutered (they were the ones who informed us he was a he, not a she) and they estimated he was about two years old. the woman on duty also said, after picking him to look at him, that he was really thin and had probably been lost for a while.

it was also there that, upon learning of his sex, i decided to rename bones and call him “herbie.” the name first came to mind because i’d been in the process of yanking hundreds of herb robert plants out of the garden when the cat first appeared, and i realized “herbert robert” would be an excellent name. herbie for short. plus, there’s Herbie: The Love Bug, the movie. and this feline herbie certainly was a love bug. so, it fit, and we’ve referred to him as herbie ever since.

we loaded him back into the car and began the trek to the next centre. herbie was once again quiet and peaceful, purring and occasionally glancing at me through the carrier windows. there was one moment where he began howling and meowing, seemingly inexplicably... until he farted and then settled right back down into docile purring. poor little guy’s digestive system must have been in all kinds of knots after having been starved for who knows how long and then suddenly filled with food.

we arrived at the second animal services centre, which was quite lovely inside, and waited for our turn at the desk. there were some people there browsing cats, and i worried they’d think we were surrendering our pet. i felt like telling anyone who glanced our way, “this is a stray! we rescued it! we want it to find its owner!”

the woman at the front desk took my mom’s info – this time, we were in the correct district branch – and asked some basic questions about herbie (sex? colour? approximate age? claws?). she reiterated their policy: they add the cat to their “found cats” department, where it’s held for five business days in case the owner(s) come to claim it, and then put it up for adoption if it remains unclaimed after that. she said we could put a hold on the cat if we wanted to adopt it after the found-cat period is over, but i said i’d think about it.

she then called for an attendant to come out to take the cat. “then you guys can leave,” she said happily, as though reassuring us we didn’t have any further responsibility.

“oh,” i said. “do we have to?”

and she said no, no, that we were totally allowed to stay if we wanted.

unfortunately, that information clearly wasn’t conveyed to the guy who came out from the rear of the shelter to get herbie. he opened up the carrier, pulled herbie out (because herbie didn’t want to come out) and held him for a few seconds to look him over. i explained that we’d found him outside, and that he was super-friendly. “and he hasn’t stopped purring. he’s probably purring right now,” i added.

“nope,” said the guy. “he’s not purring now.”

:-|

then the attendant turned and started carrying herbie away. i began to walk after him.

“i guess we follow you?” i said to the attendant. and he turned around and said, “nope.”

“oh. so... that’s it?” i asked.

“yup,” he answered, and then just disappeared with herbie.

that was it. the end.

we didn’t get to say goodbye, didn’t get to provide them with any other info about him, didn’t get to help him (herbie, not the attendant) settle in, nuthin’. in an instant, the cat was gone.

and i found it very upsetting.

too sudden. too fast. too abrupt and clinical. i understand that’s par for the course at an animal shelter, since staff members *have* to treat the animals in a comparatively detached way just to maintain their emotional sanity, but i wanted to make sure my little friend was okay, and not scared.

i wanted him to know that we weren’t just dumping him, but that we were leaving him there to get the medical help he needed (he’d scraped up the bridge of his nose at some point and looked like he might have ear mites or an ear infection) and maybe even get him back to a home he once loved. i wanted to reassure him.

most of all, i just wanted to say goodbye.

instead, i just walked back to the car with my mom and the empty carrier.

and had tears running down my cheeks all the way home.

we called the animal services centre later that afternoon, and were told that once he’d been vet checked and given an official I.D. #, they’d call us back to give us his info so we could keep track of how he was doing and follow-up with them to see if he’d been claimed or adopted out. i felt better after that. i may go visit him later in the week.

but i really don’t think adopting herbie is in my future. i’ve done nothing but think about it, and about him, for the past 48 hours. weighing options, listing pros and cons, researching everything from scratching posts to organic food to area vets, examining the realities, feeling guilty, feeling relieved, feeling sad, feeling content. it’s been a bit of a roller coaster.

and i slowly realized, for a number of reasons (about which i’ll blog tomorrow, so i ask that you please hold off on the “JUST BRING HIM HOME!!!!!” comments for now), adopting him is an idea that's wonderful in theory, but unrealistic in practice.

tonight, i’m just glad he’s somewhere safe and dry, being fed and watered and healed.

giving paws

as i type this, the cat from last weekend is ensconced in my parents' garage with food, water, a litter box and a bed. the garage door is closed, and she's got a secure roof over her head for the night.

according to my parents, she's come back every day this week. so, when she wandered through their backyard earlier today while i was visiting, we decided it was time to rescue this skinny, adorable, super-affectionate feline.

as soon as i went outside, she was ALL over me with love. she came running across the yard when she saw me, and immediately started curling in and around my feet so intently that i couldn't actually walk. when i did manage to take a step or two, she literally flopped onto the grass and right on top of my feet, over and over again, as if to say, "STOP MOVING AND LOVE ME!"

i gave her a bowl of water, from which she drank and drank and drank.

and then, after much debate and a call to toronto animal services for advice, we decided to give her kibbles.

i have never, EVER seen a cat as ravenous as this one was. she attacked that small bowl of kibbles like a tasmanian devil, and was clearly STARVING. she was so excited she wound up scattering the kibbles across the porch because she was trying to eat them so quickly.

T.A.S. advised us to set up shelter for the cat in the garage for overnight, and to either call them in the morning to come get the cat, or bring it in to one of their shelters. the cat has no identification or collar, so we're hoping she's microchipped. she's so unbelievably friendly that she has to have belonged to someone -- stray or feral cats would never be this approachable, pettable, huggable, liftable and clingy.

she literally did not stop purring the entire time i was out there.

i'm really really really hoping she's a beloved pet that somehow accidentally got out of her house, and her owners (who've been desperately searching for her for weeks) will be overjoyed at having her found. i am praying that's what happens when we drop her off tomorrow.

if there's no microchip, then T.A.S. holds the cat for seven days in its "lost pets" department. if it's not claimed after the week is up, the cat is put up for adoption.

and, if that happens, i may have a dilemma on my hands.

fingers crossed "bones" (what i've christened the cat, because she's so petite and thin) is happily back in her own home tomorrow night at this time, drifting off to sleep in her own bed and thinking fondly of the nice lady who reunited her with her family, and helped her when she was lost.

we are only human

we are not our sorrows, we are not our scars.

some days more than others, remembering that is a challenge.

i ♥ nerina pallot.

apologies for the delay...

ode to moobie’s scalp

perhaps you are familiar with my friend whom i call moob

who’s had a host of ails and sewed a finger to a boob

yet just when she believed her freaky trials were now long dead

she found a tiny lump perched right atop her ginger head

at first, she let it slide and to the doctor did not go

the bump was rather small and under hair it did not show

but then she changed her mind and soon a test was being done

result? that node was cancer caused by damage from the sun

so back under the knife is where she went to make it well

her head was shaved a bit, the doctor scooped out all the cells

but what she thought was wee turned out much bigger in the end

so what was left behind was a much harder thing to mend

with tape and tons of staples and a lengthy turban wrap

our moob was sent back home and longed to soon not feel like crap

she battled several fevers as her wounds tried hard to heal

and with anticipation soon those bandages were peeled

but under all the scabs and all those scars and tons of goop

her head was still not fixed and needed more (aw, come on! POOP!)

so with a hairless patch and funky part and wacky ‘do

she once again set forth and pinned those hopes on something new

a graft was now on deck and from her leg that skin was shorn

then stuck onto her patch so healthiness could there be born

with one more wrapping up and lots of meds to keep her high

moob dreamed of normalcy up on her head and on her thigh

for now, things look okay and moobie’s blood is flowing fine

the holes upon her bod are sealing closed and so in time

she’ll comb over her hair and smooth it down so it lays flat

but while she waits for growth she’ll need to sport a jaunty hat.

* * * 

© yepimawriter 2010

ode to the cupcrap: a cautionary po-eme

ode to the cupcrap: a cautionary po-eme

dear friends, i’d like to ask you pay attention to this rhyme

to heed its sombre warning and avoid a baking crime

if cravings for a cupcake ‘round your belly tightly wrap

fall not under the spell of something i call the “cupcrap”

cupcraps are a dessert no human being should endure

they’re made of disappointment but are coated in allure

they *look* like perfect morsels of delicious, frosted joy

instead they’re lumps of failure, manufactured to annoy

the cake is often crumbly, way too dry or over-dense

its flavour sorely lacking in a way that makes no sense

its freshness may be suspect, on the brink of being stale

a base so unimpressive all delight is soon derailed

the icing is no better and, in fact, is often worse

a slathered-on concoction so appalling it’s perverse

it’s oily or it’s greasy or it’s laced with sugar grit

it’s hardened like a shell and for consumption it’s unfit

together all these factors make a “treat” that really blows

(and trust me when i say that i’m someone who really knows)

each bite just makes you sadder you have spent your hard-earned cash

on something you’re now tempted to toss soundly in the trash

to dive into a cupcrap is to bid your bliss farewell

to drop from pure excitement to the second ring of hell

each mouthful is a letdown, every sprinkle met with scorn

and by the time you’re finished you feel cheated and forlorn

“so how...”, i hear you asking, “... can i spare myself this woe?”

“where are the perfect cupcakes?! tell me, vickie, do you know?!”

to that i say: crack research! do it early, start to eat!

a palate is subjective, so no rule can be concrete

it takes a world of sampling lots of wares from many shops

to find the gems you love and cast aside the junk that flops

so when that need arrives you’ll know exactly what to do

to score a few that rock and not some duds that taste like poo.

* * *

© yepimawriter 2010 

wrapping the weekend

* first thing on saturday, i headed to the ‘burbs for a weekend of yard work. saturday, i’d help YB tackle the preliminary winterizing of her garden; sunday, we’d both head to my parents’ house to clear cut and then mulch mom’s backyard. so, just after 9am, i was on the subway, going north.

* work at trixie’s house was pushed back to the afternoon. we spent the morning out grocery shopping. sadly, cupcakes were not on the list, though we did buy butter with which to make cupcakes later in the day.

* after lunch, YB and i grabbed the shears and yard-waste bags and rakes and set to work. it was a perfect day – sunny, cool and breezy. three woodpeckers dropped in to say hi. squirrels ran past on fences and overhead wires. the yippy dog next door went nuts. YB's backyard is HUGE, and the dent we made was slightly more than minor, slightly less than moderate. but it did mean i got to spend some time pruning her tall bonsai tree. unfortunately, this delightfully relaxing activity was thwarted by the relentless mosquitoes that became more numerous the lower the sun sank in the sky. i had about two inches of wrist exposed (it was brisk, so we were dressed for the weather and i was wearing gardening gloves), but that was enough to attract one particularly determined skeeter. i killed as soon as i spotted it, but the damage was done... and i now have my late-in-season second mosquito bite of 2010.

* we were pretty pooped when we were done, so we made pasta for dinner and skipped the comparatively labour-intensive cupcakes for soup. trix wanted to make a big batch to freeze for her lunches, so she pulled out her recipe and whipped up an absolutely DEEEEEELICIOUS chipotle-squash purée, garnished with toasted pumpkin seeds and homemade croutons. had it not been so late in the evening, i would have had a massive bowl of it. (i opted instead for a small bowl. :-D)

* sunday morning, trix baked homemade corn muffins. fantastic! plus, the ideal accompaniment to the aforementioned delicious soup. i have two full servings (soup + muffins) in my freezer as i type this.

* we arrived chez maman et papa just after 10am and promptly began dismantling the garden. it was an interesting process, given that we were pulling out/cutting down all the things we planted just seven months ago... which had, obviously, grown in size exponentially in the time since.

so cute and fluffy

* not too long after we began, an adorable, super-friendly cat wandered into the yard... and then hung out with us for the rest of the day. she just wanted to be loved, and stuck right beside us for the duration of her visit. she would roll over on her back for belly rubs if any of us bent down to give her a pat, and i don’t think she ever stopped purring. kyle, meanwhile, was inside the house, absolutely LIVID. he hates other cats – always has, which is why he was in a room by himself when we first found him at the SPCA. so, seeing an interloper frolicking in the yard with his humans had him pacing at the window and, we hear, moaning in that threatening “i will give you a beat down!” way. though we felt bad for mr. poo, and tried to keep our feline visitor out of his line of sight, we all agreed that kyle would do well to take a cue from this huggable cat and perhaps be a teensy bit more affectionate himself. less chomps, more kisses.

* by the time we all sat down for dinner – pot roast and mashed potatoes – we were ravenous... which makes any meal that much better, in my opinion. had trix and i not been so tired, we would have stopped to pick up cupcakes when she drove me home. but we were both overcome with the kind of blissful fatigue that comes with two days of yard work, so we did not.

* i love manual labour. i love it. it’s a fantastic way to relax and to work off stress or anxiety or sadness or whatever emotional junk you want to clear out in a physical manner. i also love autumn. and my mom and my sister. and cats. and that SOUP (omg)! so, it was a really lovely couple of days.

sunday

with autumn in full swing, it was time to cut down my parents' garden.

done

a few minutes ago, i finished the outline for a brand new screenplay. on time. on deadline.

and though this might not amount to much in the grand scheme of the universe or seem like anything significant to anyone else, for me, right now, this is a big deal.

for starters, i now have before me a detailed blueprint from which to create a whole new project, with a collection of eclectic new characters, born of a fresh idea. and that's pretty cool. admittedly, that "fresh" idea is one that first sprang to my mind about five years ago. but, at the time, i simply jotted down a few sentences about what i thought the story might be and who the central players were. then i put it away, moved on to something else, and never really revisited it in any kind of serious way. i didn't forget about it; i just chalked it up to one of those fleeting ideas that maybe, someday in the future, i might look at again if i felt like it.

and, to be honest, i didn't feel like looking at it but, just over a month ago, i did anyway. though reluctant and relatively unmotivated, i knew i had to get writing again. i hoped having someone else hold me accountable and set deadlines for me might spur me to action and get the creative juices flowing again after a looooong drought. yet, even as recently as last week, i thought, "this was a dumb idea. i can't finish this. i've set myself up to fail. what was i thinking?"

but i didn't fail. and i made myself write. and words started coming out. not a flood right away, just a trickle at first. but it got easier and got better, even though i thought about throwing in the towel. several times.

so, to sit here and have a completed, coloured-in story -- with a solid beginning, middle and ending -- from which i can build a two-hour script is immensely satisfying.

more importantly, though, this finished outline is something that, six or seven months ago, i didn't think i'd ever want to do again. it was like a giant light had been turned off. back then, i had no interest in writing anything, least of all a screenplay, and the thought of sitting down to write an outline (or anything longer than a haiku) was the equivalent of thinking i'd sit down and write the entire dictionary. oxford, not webster's. it seemed too big, too daunting, too difficult... and i certainly wasn't in any shape, emotionally, to even contemplate embarking on that journey, let alone believe i might actually be able to finish it.

yet, i did.

and it's done.

i've given away enough

a while ago, and after a difficult day, a friend of mine posted a story -- more of a micro-parable, really -- she'd been told about self-worth.

the gist of it is as follows:

when we're born, we're all born with a bucket filled with gold. and, throughout our lives, people will try to take that gold from us, one piece (or many pieces) at a time. our job is to keep the gold thieves away, to protect our gold and not let anyone steal any of it.

i found the lesson profound and strangely moving, and sent my friend a message telling her so.

i added that, for me, the problem isn't other people taking my gold, it's me giving it away... or even throwing it away... all on my own.

when nature calls

a walk through autumn leaves can do wonders for the spirit.

discovery channels

my first new-screenplay deadline is this friday.

all these weeks, i thought i knew the story i'd be writing. i mulled and weighed and pondered and worked out details in my head and made copious notes... but i couldn't seem to really connect with my own material. it felt hollow. fake.

the screenwriting book i read was enormously helpful, but also served to spotlight the flaws in what i'd been wrestling. i figured i'd forge ahead, though, because i'd already picked away at the idea enough that, however imperfect, it was at least fully formed with a beginning, middle and end.

yet for some reason, over the past few weeks, my mind's frequently drifted back to another, vastly different screenplay idea i had a long while ago. i remembered working on it, in fits and starts but somewhat successfully, for a couple of months. and i remembered really liking that idea... even if i'd abandoned it nearly two years ago.

so, while procrastinating just now, i decided to dig up the files on that long-ago screenplay idea to see what i'd actually managed to finish.

turns out, i finished quite a bit. not quite an outline, but enough of a roughing out of the story that it had structure and description and feeling. and, in rereading it, i surprised myself with the richness and texture i discovered i'd written. who knew?

and now, with two days to go before my new outline is due (three, if i give myself until end-of-day friday), i'm suddenly thinking of dropping the cheery-but-unrealized idea and investing my time and energy in the darker, deeper one i left behind instead.

life imitates art

i’ve often heard it said that every decision we make in life is a choice between fear and love. and, in many ways and many scenarios, that’s absolutely true.

but i just finished reading a screenwriting book (thanks, j-mo!) containing a similar theory about storytelling that might be even truer when applied to life: everything that happens either moves us towards fear or hope.

what we fear vs. what we hope.

as wonderfully helpful as this structural suggestion is when it comes to plotting out a movie (or any kind of story), i found it to be even more fitting when put in the context of how we live our lives.

because doesn’t everything we do, or everything we think, or everything we feel relate to hope or fear?

we hope for the best.

we fear the worst.

and work our way through all points in between.

for me, colour is a very important component of any meal...

... and, tonight, YB and i made homemade bean burritos jam-packed with colour and goodness:

* spicy red beans, with onions and red peppers and jalepeños
* brown rice
* lettuce
* yellow tomatoes
* shredded purple carrot
* grated cheddar cheese
* all wrapped in whole-wheat tortillas

DELICIOUS. the only thing we forgot was the salsa (dammit!), which we realized after we'd already returned home from the grocery store.

behold the burrito!

further to the previous entry...

those cupcakes were TERRIBLE.

dry, flavourless cupcakes with sugary, hard (?!), tasteless "frosting."

dining at the chateau

with dinner, purple carrots! who knew they were orange inside?

for dessert, cupcakes from a new place.
the yellow ones are chocolate w/ vanilla frosting.
the pink ones are vanilla  w/ vanilla frosting.
the selection at the shop was very limited.
thus, i am lowering my expectations.

the wedding gift

as a wedding gift, i wanted to give peaches and herm something personal and unique. something that was distinctly me and came from the heart.

so, i wrote them a poem: 

the perfect pair

  

when i sat down to write this for you, robbie, and you, ned

assorted thoughts on life began to pad around my head

reflections on what matters and what’s special and what’s true

and how the love you share is not unlike your favourite shoes

to find the perfect pair can take a lifetime or one glance

relentless, endless searching or discovery by chance

yet when the stars align and fortune winks and fate just smiles

you stumble on what’s right and instantly it’s all worthwhile

you slide into a comfort that enfolds you from the start

so every step you take sends tiny flutters to your heart

and each new path before you can be wandered unafraid

you have support to buoy you and protect you on your way

you fidget and you shuffle and adjust ‘til you feel snug

and soon a warm contentment wraps around you like a hug

your hopes and countless wishes in an instant all come true

the fit is just so perfect it seems tailor-made for you

and as you stroll together a phenomenon takes place

that fit gets even better and regardless of your pace

you head in new directions, running freely, feeling sure

your laces threaded soundly, keeping everything secure

in london or in paris or on top of primrose hill

at stage doors or by boat docks or on evenings that are still

with ice cream or some sushi or a gin and tonic toast

you travel to forever with the one you cherish most

and though you joke you’re “misfits” i should like to disagree

the fact you found each other wasn’t luck but destiny

the kind of fit you’ve got is such a wonder to behold

as though some cosmic blueprint, with a shoe print, did unfold

so as you take a breath and join your hands to say “i do”

there’s but a single blessing that i’d like to give to you

may you embrace your journey packed with love in every stride

and always walk it bravely with your converse neatly tied.

© yepimawriter 2010

said “i do” in the backyard

on saturday, my friends peaches and herm got married.

they’re a lovely young couple, both in their 20s, who met over smiles and converse sneakers, and who have since built a loving home and life together. as i mentioned in an earlier post, they are easily the most fantastically loopy-in-love people i know, and their relationship is the sort that spawns wistful sighs from hopeless romantics everywhere. it’s not surprising, then, that their wedding was brimming over with the kind of rich, all-encompassing love and support that some of us can only dream of and wish for.

i will admit that my experience with weddings is fairly limited, having attended fewer than a dozen in my lifetime – and most of those were for cousins i barely knew, who were marrying people i’d never met before and probably wouldn’t see again. as such, i was rarely emotionally invested and, frankly, don’t remember a whole lot about any of them. this time, though, i’d grown to know and adore both peaches and herm simultaneously, had watched their romance come into full bloom and felt genuine happiness and delight when they announced their engagement. as a result, i knew this wedding would be different, and i was right.

yet, despite my wonder and awe at the evening, i nonetheless struggled to figure out what exactly i wanted to write about it all. there was so much material from which to choose. i started and deleted this entry almost a dozen times, attempting different angles, going at it in every way i could, rewriting and restarting over and over again. nothing worked the way i wanted it to and i considered scrapping the whole thing.

but two prevailing thoughts kept creeping to the forefront of my mind no matter how each incarnation began or how many times i literally got up and walked away from my computer:

words and feelings.

as a writer, i’m obviously drawn to words. the hows and whys and wheres and whens of words, the meanings they hold, the strength they possess, the quiet secrets that can lie in the spaces between them.

and, as vickie, i’m all about feelings. having them, understanding them, nurturing them, sharing them if you’re brave and, ultimately, embracing them for whatever they might be if you’re even braver.

words and feelings. they go hand in hand, i think. sometimes words beget feelings, sometimes feelings drive words. a disconnect between the two can result in disappointment, deception, disinterest or even disaster. but when they converge in harmony and truth, when they swirl together in an intimate tangle, when they marry... magic happens.

i was reminded of this on saturday as i sat poolside in the cool, damp october air. for me, the night wasn’t about the gorgeous setting or the iffy weather or what anyone wore or even, dare i say it, about the cake.

for me, the wedding was about words and about feelings.

it was about beautiful vows exchanged between two people head over heels in love, decked out in their finery with even finer matching converse (pink for peaches, pale blue for herm) on their feet, who opened up their hearts to each other, and to us, in such an honest and tender way that i would be surprised if there was anyone in attendance who didn’t have tears running down his or her cheeks during the ceremony. the words, so carefully chosen, so sweet and so personal and so filled with gratitude, were spoken more than they were recited, making it feel as though we were all suddenly privy to whispered expressions of love in addition to a public profession of commitment.

it was about heartfelt speeches given by siblings and parents, some words so pure and poignant they reduced me to silent choke-sobs. it was about the laser-like clarity, subtle power and profound beauty contained in the simple gesture of standing up and saying “i love you and i support you, no matter what, always” out loud for everyone to hear. likewise, it was about newlyweds giving equally sincere thanks to their families in return, and promises of love to each other, in speeches they gave later on. regardless of who was at the microphone, though, the words i heard all night were consistently about speaking feelings fully and completely – fearlessly or nervously or through an oft-cleared throat intended to snap a quavering voice back in check – instead of having them remain a silent understanding.

more than anything, though, and embedded within every syllable of all those words, this wedding was about the absolute, unrelenting, unapologetic, overwhelming feeling of love. believe me, i know it sounds incredibly trite and entirely unoriginal – after all, how many weddings are about hate? – but there was something decidedly unique about the kind of love that wove through the guests like the yards and yards of tiffany-blue ribbons along which the wedding bands were passed. it was infectious, spreading from peaches and herm and their families outwards like invisible ripples in a pond of affection, and then reverberating back to them tenfold.

i saw it in the way people talked to each other, the way they leaned in for shared stories, the way old friends were greeted and new friends were made. i saw it in a hand held here or an elbow touched there or an arm slipped gently around another’s waist for a squeeze. i saw it in grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins and friends and even members of the catering staff. i saw it beam from teary faces and cracked smiles and familiar expressions and knowing glances. i saw it in the care that was shown, the attention that was given and the generosity of spirit that was served up in abundance. and i heard it echo through the night in belly laughs and enthusiastic applause and weepy sniffles and throats gone lumpy from crying.

marvelous, magical words and feelings. everywhere.

and, again, so much love that it still tugs on my heartstrings and causes a catch in my breath when i think of it.

not only for its quantity, but its quality. unabashed, unconditional, joyous and whole, rendered even more precious in my eyes because this wasn’t a wedding with a bride and a groom, it was a wedding with two grooms.

photo by j-pad (appropriated, again, with much gratitude)

peaches and herm are a couple of wonderful young guys, embarking on this new and exciting journey together, who eagerly and proudly pledged their devotion to each other with comfort and confidence and ease, wrapped in the collective arms of people who love them dearly. there was no judgment, no reluctance, no tension, no doubt.

only celebration. epic, undiluted celebration.

never once did anyone refer to this as a “gay wedding,” nor should they. nor will i. it was just a remarkable example of what a wedding, any wedding, should be. but, as a gay woman who’s never really experienced that level of acceptance and approval before, i couldn’t help being touched by, and marveling at, how truly blessed and lucky these two young men and their families are.

for me, being a part of something so special and extraordinary, and witnessing firsthand that it can happen and does exist, left me deeply moved and inspired, filled with a feeling more meaningful than i could ever adequately express regardless of how many words i might use.

in the meantime...

photo appropriated, with thanks, from j-pad

* the wedding blog entry is taking longer than i thought it would. deciding what to write about was difficult and, even after making a decision, i’ve been finding the words hard to get right. or to get at all. it was an emotional day, and i’m still working on sorting through and organizing feelings. please stand by. it’s coming... just not today. in the meantime, here’s a photo of the wedding cake and (very large, very rich, very chocolate-y, very delicious) individual mini-cakes the guests enjoyed. one whole mini-cake per person. so very tasty.

* yesterday, i went to my new dentist for the first time. if you recall, my previous dentist died earlier this year and, though i met the new dentist very briefly at the end of march, yesterday was my first official x-rays-and-everything-else visit. thanks to her high-tech digital x-ray machine, she found a teeny cavity between two of my front teeth. so...

* today, i went back to my new dentist for my filling. she’d initially thought i might need two tiny ones, but it turned out one would do the trick. now, i’ve had so many fillings and so much dental work over the years that the procedure doesn’t bother me, and i don’t get nervous about needles or drills or what have you. been there, done that, no worries. but my new dentist, dr. m, was nonetheless super-duper-gentle and reassuring and holycrapfast. it was easily the best filling i’ve ever had done. i was in and out in 20 minutes. and that included the wait-for-the-freezing-to-kick-in time.

* back in june, i wrote about a documentary i watched in 1991 and the follow-up film that was broadcast last year. i was on the waiting list for the toronto public library’s sole copy of the DVD and it finally arrived for me. i picked it up earlier today, and i can’t believe i’m finally going to see what happened to all these young doctors in the 19 years since i saw them last. i’m saving it as a treat. or trying to, anyway. i may cave and watch it tonight.

* this afternoon, i also renewed the registration on my screenplay with the writers’ guild of canada. i’d first registered it in december five years ago, and the term was expiring in a couple of months, so the guild sent me a “renew it or lose it” reminder. and it was something of a bittersweet moment – i remember when i first registered it, how excited and determined i was to bring it to life. that plan fizzled in the months that followed and then lay dormant until last fall, when it was revived and i was once again excited and determined. that plan died and the screenplay has now been put away again, probably for good. so renewing its registration felt like something of a lie... as though i was making a promise i already know i won’t keep. 

wedding

in just over an hour, i'm leaving to attend the wedding of my friends, peaches and herm, who are so over-the-moon in love that they make my heart swell.

though the weather is overcast and the temperatures are cold and it could literally rain at any moment, i know it's going to be a warm, glow-y event.

and one that, no doubt, will spur a blog entry come tomorrow or monday.