The Expanding House.
There have been times when one feels huge.
Rattling off walls.
Running the halls.
Baseball swings in the living room.
One has also felt small.
Ricocheting off door frames.
Stubbing toes off beds.
Too much stuff and nowhere to lodge.
Two feels right sometimes.
There to chat.
To make TV comedy funny.
Funny how company can make dumb jokes fun.
Two is a crowd sometimes.
Bumping past in the kitchen.
Wanting other shows at the same time.
Being too loud when sleep is the goal.
Seven works surprisingly well.
A group play games.
A pair chats quiet.
A reader and internet surfer too.
It takes family
To make seven less than two.
MONDAY...
— Work is alright. Didn’t sleep real well last night but work goes okay anyway.
— Drinks with Laura after work... Janice and Cara Lee join us. Fun to catch up with Laura.
— Some cleaning and TV in the evening. Holidays begin now.
TUESDAY...
— Get the parents in the early afternoon. Lunch at Barley Mow and supper is Chinese food. We stay pretty close to home since it’s rainy for most of the day.
WEDNESDAY...
— Shopping day with mom and dad. Mountain Equipment... St. Laurent Mall. Got some shirts at MEC and a vintage Montreal Expo jersey at the mall. Poor ol’ Expos.
— A few more bed and bath shops and some groceries on the way home... Geoff comes after supper and we hang out and talk with mom and dad for the rest of the evening.
THURSDAY...
— Little walk of the pond in the morning. Hot.
— Still hot in the afternoon when we go downtown. 39 with humidity.
— Meet Edena and family. Have supper on a patio and then back to hotel for some cards while sister family gets some rest.
FRIDAY...
— Don’t even remember... lots of downtown running around and writing this three days after the fact.
SATURDAY...
— Go to the Market with the family for lunch. I leave them there and head home to meet Karl and his girlfriend for pizza and some record playing.
SUNDAY...
— No writing... No time. Lunch in the field next to the Ottawa River outside the Museum of Civilization. Paula and Eddie join us there. A few hours down time followed by supper in the market and a Rideau River boat tour in the evening. Nice tour. It's cooler too so less sweating involved today... Finally.
MONDAY...
— Leave downtown and head to my place. Some shopping at Rideau Centre with Edena, mom and and Claire to get some bed stuff.
— To work for a few minutes to write an e-mail... mom and dad meet several of my friends there.
— Everyone to my house for supper and a night around the house. Lebanese Food to eat... and GPS organizing after that. Quebec City in the morning.
Tuesday, July 20, 2010
Saturday, July 17, 2010
writing delay
Been quite busy with the family in town and too tired to think of creativity when I have a moment. So a delay in the writing. Perhaps a little something in before we leave for Quebec Tuesday... otherwise it may be a one week break and something being added Sunday the 25th. We'll see how it goes.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
Making It Up As I Go Along #424
Not Yet 80
Last week, I wrote a poem about my most common times with my friend, Karl. We’ve been friends for about five years and the most common thing we’ve done together is take that walk from his apartment, across the Rideau River along the Bank Street bridge, through the Glebe neighbourhood... the commercial section that reminds me of Water Street back home... and to Patty’s Pub.
At the pub, we’d have a meal and a drink. Sometimes sitting and quietly catching up... other times checking our watches to make sure we wouldn’t be late for the movie a few blocks further, at the Mayfair.
Funny how different things stand out in friendships. I have some friends I can only speak about sports with. Other friends, we’ll joke about reality shows. There are some I’m comfortable with in the confines of work, but if I met them along a downtown street on the weekend, we’d look at each other awkwardly, each wondering how the other encroached on our territory.
Over the years, I’ve done many things with Karl. We went to King Kong for a late night showing one New Years Eve. The years clicked over from one to the other sometime around Kong’s assent of the Empire State Building. Our Happy New Year wishes waited until the movie’s credits.
Karl took me on my first trip to Gatineau Park. And guided me through some trails of Mer Bleue as well.
But the great majority of our times together have been along that corridor between his apartment and the Mayfair.
Last week, we took that walk again. Going as far as the pub for a supper and some much needed catching up after months of not seeing each other. The question remains though, will we do that walk again?
I’ve had friendships fade away. People I’ve sat and had a drink with... attended parties with... gotten together at cabins with. Past moments in time shared with current strangers.
And I’ve had friendships come to screaming halts over emotional outbursts. Silly differences of opinion that resulted in a friend disappearing from my life.
But in Karl’s case, it’s none of this. Karl is dying.
You know all along that there will come a time in your life when you’ll watch a friend fade away. You just expect that such times will come when you’re both into your 70s or 80s. And I have childhood acquaintances who have since died. But we had lost touch long before and my hearing of their deaths has been as a footnote on distant memories. Thinking of that buddy from Cubs who shot milk out his nose while trying to suppress a laugh at summer camp... knowing that he’s no longer there.
It’s a definite moment of pause and reflection... but not necessarily an earth changing moment when getting the news of their passing.
Yes, I think it’s safe to say that Karl’s situation is a first for me. Almost three months ago, we met for one of our walks to the pub. All was as in previous times. Chatting about work. Taking a peek at the ducks from the bridge. I wonder aloud how much one of the hand made, wooden rocking chairs would be, as we pass a fine furniture store. He spoke, with contentment about his growing relationship with a girl who was his friend for a year... she was an old friend who he reconnected with about a year ago... and now they’re in love. I ask if it’s good... he smiles and says “oh yes.”
We ended that evening with a handshake and agreement that he’ll have to come to my place for some old style record playing.
Two weeks later, an e-mail from his father told me Karl has cancer. Little more than two weeks ago... some two months after that e-mail from his dad... I get another message saying Karl has about another two months to live.
Funny how quickly a world can change. I’m sitting, bored at work and about to get up to go to lunch, and my Blackberry gives a little vibration with a message telling me my friend won’t see another snowfall.
Another thing that’s funny is that I’d always expected that whenever the day would come that I’d sit with a dying friend... some forty years from now... I would have to be strong for that friend. I’d have to sit there and let them share their fears... their anger. This wasn’t the case with Karl.
With Karl, we met as always. A handshake in front of his building... he asking how I am... me asking the same. The only difference this time was that I added a slap on the shoulder with my left hand as we shook. An extra umph to show it’s good to see him.
And we walked along as normal. Speaking of the traffic I encountered getting to him. And talking about summer plans... me with my family soon arriving. He, a trip to Vermont planned with his.
At the restaurant, conversation went as normal. Pauses of silence broken by tidbits of information. Only in previous conversations of this type, he’d mention a painting he finished, or a movie he went to, just he and his father. On this occasion, he told me how his parents just bought him a burial plot at Beechwood Cemetery. Us sitting between a small dinner party to my left and an elderly eating couple to my right... and Karl told me this with the same ease one would use when mentioning the purchase of a new CD.
He told me with so much normalcy in his tone, that I was put at ease by it. I remember telling co-workers of this part of our evening, and their reaction being one of shock... wondering how one hears something like that without crawling out of their skin. And I figured I would have cringed with his words too. But I didn’t. He told me and I told him it sounds nice. And we carried on in our talk over chicken tenders and salad.
Karl has had it tough for several years now, and his diagnoses seems to have given him a feeling of contentment. I guess when you go for years, wondering how you’re going to manage the years ahead... and then you suddenly find out that you actually only have months to go... you can feel like a great weight has been lifted. I only say “I guess” here... because I have no idea what goes through your head when hearing such news as Karl heard a few weeks ago.
We scoot through our lives, giving extraordinary amounts of importance to extraordinarily unimportant matters. Around the same period in time that Karl was finding out he had months to live, I was sputtering and complaining about the snoring of strangers on the other side of a curtain during physiotherapy.
I was inconvenienced spending upwards of six hours a week, trying to strengthen my knee enough to avoid surgery. And he was sitting... deciding between a treatment that would make him so sick, it alone, could kill him... or just letting life come to an end without that fight.
Such differences made me feel silly when he asked me how my knee is doing. The surgery threat I faced became no more than a hang nail... and I rushed through my answer, wanting the subject finished as quickly as possible.
And so I find myself thinking often of Karl. Wondering how his trip to Vermont is going. Knowing he’s at peace with the time that remains. And I think of our walks along Bank Street. Of winter evenings, dark and still with gentle snow. Ears and noses almost frozen by the time we reach the pub... we unwrap layers and plunk down in seats along the fireplace.
I think of those times when the Happy Waitress is there to serve us. Trista is her name but for the first half dozen or so times she served us, we only knew her as the Happy Waitress. One of those women who glows with a gentle, easy, friendliness... when she’d leave our table, Karl and I would look at each other a smile... “She’s good” he’d say. “Oh yeah” I’d nod.
Some evenings, our return walk to Karl’s apartment would follow winding routes as we’d detour from the bustle of Bank Street and stroll the residential roads and avenues a block over. Nights along there would be quiet. A living room lamp giving us a peek into other lives. Glimpses even. The time it takes for three steps along the sidewalk gives us a distant view of a painting on a wall. Four more steps sees the outline of a man, hunched over the dining room table as he drifts through the newspaper. His form is shrouded by drapes as we pass by.
On a driveway, a cat is curled up into a shape resembling a loaf of bread... it’s head slowly turning with our passing... keeping a sharp eye on us as we go by.
These streets are where Karl took me the first time we met outside of work. I rented a bike and he toured me through this neighbourhood. Pointing out streets he grew up on... telling me stories of his childhood as we pause for a snack... standing along the side of the road, allowing our bikes to lean against our legs as we munch on granola bars.
I hope to be able to make these walks with Karl again. To once again stop for a meal and smile to each other after Trista, our waitress goes with our order. But the next meeting will not be along Bank Street. I’ll host our next meeting. As Karl shall come to my place... we’ll order a pizza... and go through records, picking favourites to play on my turntable.
MONDAY...
— Hottest day I’ve seen. At 4:00 this afternoon, the humidex reached 46 degrees. I’m not outside for much of it though.
TUESDAY...
— Not as hot but I’m in it more. Played RCMP softball in 44 degree heat. It’s still feeling like 36 after midnight tonight. Crazy.
— Ball went alright. Knee is feeling more comfortable with it.
— Hating technology. Come home and my iPod Touch shows as being connected to my wireless network... but acts as if there’s no internet connection. Most frustrating.
WEDNESDAY...
— Still scorching. Low 40s with the humidity.
THURSDAY...
— Still hot out there. Mid 40s today. Got my wireless network back up and running after work... so that’s a bit of an accomplishment.
— Miami Heat will have Lebron, Bosh and Wade next year. Could NBA owners file for collusion against the players? Management in sports seeming more and more powerless. Players just dictating everything these days.
FRIDAY...
— Some rain finally breaks the hot. It’s still really warm... in the low 30s... but no more in the 40s anyway.
SATURDAY...
— Laundry in the day. Supper with Sarah and Phil and then we go see Iron Man 2. A fun movie. Liked it. And I can even turn off the AC and open windows in the evening. Mid to low 20s is much more comfortable.
Last week, I wrote a poem about my most common times with my friend, Karl. We’ve been friends for about five years and the most common thing we’ve done together is take that walk from his apartment, across the Rideau River along the Bank Street bridge, through the Glebe neighbourhood... the commercial section that reminds me of Water Street back home... and to Patty’s Pub.
At the pub, we’d have a meal and a drink. Sometimes sitting and quietly catching up... other times checking our watches to make sure we wouldn’t be late for the movie a few blocks further, at the Mayfair.
Funny how different things stand out in friendships. I have some friends I can only speak about sports with. Other friends, we’ll joke about reality shows. There are some I’m comfortable with in the confines of work, but if I met them along a downtown street on the weekend, we’d look at each other awkwardly, each wondering how the other encroached on our territory.
Over the years, I’ve done many things with Karl. We went to King Kong for a late night showing one New Years Eve. The years clicked over from one to the other sometime around Kong’s assent of the Empire State Building. Our Happy New Year wishes waited until the movie’s credits.
Karl took me on my first trip to Gatineau Park. And guided me through some trails of Mer Bleue as well.
But the great majority of our times together have been along that corridor between his apartment and the Mayfair.
Last week, we took that walk again. Going as far as the pub for a supper and some much needed catching up after months of not seeing each other. The question remains though, will we do that walk again?
I’ve had friendships fade away. People I’ve sat and had a drink with... attended parties with... gotten together at cabins with. Past moments in time shared with current strangers.
And I’ve had friendships come to screaming halts over emotional outbursts. Silly differences of opinion that resulted in a friend disappearing from my life.
But in Karl’s case, it’s none of this. Karl is dying.
You know all along that there will come a time in your life when you’ll watch a friend fade away. You just expect that such times will come when you’re both into your 70s or 80s. And I have childhood acquaintances who have since died. But we had lost touch long before and my hearing of their deaths has been as a footnote on distant memories. Thinking of that buddy from Cubs who shot milk out his nose while trying to suppress a laugh at summer camp... knowing that he’s no longer there.
It’s a definite moment of pause and reflection... but not necessarily an earth changing moment when getting the news of their passing.
Yes, I think it’s safe to say that Karl’s situation is a first for me. Almost three months ago, we met for one of our walks to the pub. All was as in previous times. Chatting about work. Taking a peek at the ducks from the bridge. I wonder aloud how much one of the hand made, wooden rocking chairs would be, as we pass a fine furniture store. He spoke, with contentment about his growing relationship with a girl who was his friend for a year... she was an old friend who he reconnected with about a year ago... and now they’re in love. I ask if it’s good... he smiles and says “oh yes.”
We ended that evening with a handshake and agreement that he’ll have to come to my place for some old style record playing.
Two weeks later, an e-mail from his father told me Karl has cancer. Little more than two weeks ago... some two months after that e-mail from his dad... I get another message saying Karl has about another two months to live.
Funny how quickly a world can change. I’m sitting, bored at work and about to get up to go to lunch, and my Blackberry gives a little vibration with a message telling me my friend won’t see another snowfall.
Another thing that’s funny is that I’d always expected that whenever the day would come that I’d sit with a dying friend... some forty years from now... I would have to be strong for that friend. I’d have to sit there and let them share their fears... their anger. This wasn’t the case with Karl.
With Karl, we met as always. A handshake in front of his building... he asking how I am... me asking the same. The only difference this time was that I added a slap on the shoulder with my left hand as we shook. An extra umph to show it’s good to see him.
And we walked along as normal. Speaking of the traffic I encountered getting to him. And talking about summer plans... me with my family soon arriving. He, a trip to Vermont planned with his.
At the restaurant, conversation went as normal. Pauses of silence broken by tidbits of information. Only in previous conversations of this type, he’d mention a painting he finished, or a movie he went to, just he and his father. On this occasion, he told me how his parents just bought him a burial plot at Beechwood Cemetery. Us sitting between a small dinner party to my left and an elderly eating couple to my right... and Karl told me this with the same ease one would use when mentioning the purchase of a new CD.
He told me with so much normalcy in his tone, that I was put at ease by it. I remember telling co-workers of this part of our evening, and their reaction being one of shock... wondering how one hears something like that without crawling out of their skin. And I figured I would have cringed with his words too. But I didn’t. He told me and I told him it sounds nice. And we carried on in our talk over chicken tenders and salad.
Karl has had it tough for several years now, and his diagnoses seems to have given him a feeling of contentment. I guess when you go for years, wondering how you’re going to manage the years ahead... and then you suddenly find out that you actually only have months to go... you can feel like a great weight has been lifted. I only say “I guess” here... because I have no idea what goes through your head when hearing such news as Karl heard a few weeks ago.
We scoot through our lives, giving extraordinary amounts of importance to extraordinarily unimportant matters. Around the same period in time that Karl was finding out he had months to live, I was sputtering and complaining about the snoring of strangers on the other side of a curtain during physiotherapy.
I was inconvenienced spending upwards of six hours a week, trying to strengthen my knee enough to avoid surgery. And he was sitting... deciding between a treatment that would make him so sick, it alone, could kill him... or just letting life come to an end without that fight.
Such differences made me feel silly when he asked me how my knee is doing. The surgery threat I faced became no more than a hang nail... and I rushed through my answer, wanting the subject finished as quickly as possible.
And so I find myself thinking often of Karl. Wondering how his trip to Vermont is going. Knowing he’s at peace with the time that remains. And I think of our walks along Bank Street. Of winter evenings, dark and still with gentle snow. Ears and noses almost frozen by the time we reach the pub... we unwrap layers and plunk down in seats along the fireplace.
I think of those times when the Happy Waitress is there to serve us. Trista is her name but for the first half dozen or so times she served us, we only knew her as the Happy Waitress. One of those women who glows with a gentle, easy, friendliness... when she’d leave our table, Karl and I would look at each other a smile... “She’s good” he’d say. “Oh yeah” I’d nod.
Some evenings, our return walk to Karl’s apartment would follow winding routes as we’d detour from the bustle of Bank Street and stroll the residential roads and avenues a block over. Nights along there would be quiet. A living room lamp giving us a peek into other lives. Glimpses even. The time it takes for three steps along the sidewalk gives us a distant view of a painting on a wall. Four more steps sees the outline of a man, hunched over the dining room table as he drifts through the newspaper. His form is shrouded by drapes as we pass by.
On a driveway, a cat is curled up into a shape resembling a loaf of bread... it’s head slowly turning with our passing... keeping a sharp eye on us as we go by.
These streets are where Karl took me the first time we met outside of work. I rented a bike and he toured me through this neighbourhood. Pointing out streets he grew up on... telling me stories of his childhood as we pause for a snack... standing along the side of the road, allowing our bikes to lean against our legs as we munch on granola bars.
I hope to be able to make these walks with Karl again. To once again stop for a meal and smile to each other after Trista, our waitress goes with our order. But the next meeting will not be along Bank Street. I’ll host our next meeting. As Karl shall come to my place... we’ll order a pizza... and go through records, picking favourites to play on my turntable.
MONDAY...
— Hottest day I’ve seen. At 4:00 this afternoon, the humidex reached 46 degrees. I’m not outside for much of it though.
TUESDAY...
— Not as hot but I’m in it more. Played RCMP softball in 44 degree heat. It’s still feeling like 36 after midnight tonight. Crazy.
— Ball went alright. Knee is feeling more comfortable with it.
— Hating technology. Come home and my iPod Touch shows as being connected to my wireless network... but acts as if there’s no internet connection. Most frustrating.
WEDNESDAY...
— Still scorching. Low 40s with the humidity.
THURSDAY...
— Still hot out there. Mid 40s today. Got my wireless network back up and running after work... so that’s a bit of an accomplishment.
— Miami Heat will have Lebron, Bosh and Wade next year. Could NBA owners file for collusion against the players? Management in sports seeming more and more powerless. Players just dictating everything these days.
FRIDAY...
— Some rain finally breaks the hot. It’s still really warm... in the low 30s... but no more in the 40s anyway.
SATURDAY...
— Laundry in the day. Supper with Sarah and Phil and then we go see Iron Man 2. A fun movie. Liked it. And I can even turn off the AC and open windows in the evening. Mid to low 20s is much more comfortable.
Sunday, July 04, 2010
Making It Up As I Go Along #423
Walking on Bank Street
Walked in the rain.
Light and drizzly.
Side by side,
Shoulders hunched.
Hat brims low.
Walked in the sun.
Bright and glowing.
Slow pace,
Trying to avoid sweat.
Pausing on the bridge,
Checking the ducks and searching for fish.
Walked in winter.
Dark and snowy.
Layered winter walkers
Peering into the icy river below.
Pitying the ducks.
As they huddle along frozen reeds.
Our breath smoking into the night.
Walked for a meal.
Reaching the pub.
A drink awaits.
A fire in winter.
Removed windows in summer.
The Happy Waitress cheering our moods.
Walked for a movie.
Fresh buttered popcorn.
The smell of which comes blocks away.
Thanks to the memory of past times.
An old Bond movie on big screen, we smile.
Karl’s story of the homeless man,
A regular along the way.
The record store we never enter but always pause at.
Dairy Queen.
For a treat on the return in August.
Under the bridge,
Flooded in Spring.
De-graffitied by an eccentric years before,
As he tells his tale, a ten minute talk... a result of Karl’s comment... “good job”.
The walk of friends.
Off for a drink, a meal, a movie.
And checking on the ducks.
As we share the times we’ve had.
Since our last such walk.
MONDAY...
— After three months and three weeks... I play ball again. The old slowpitch team needed a body. I’m rusty... and slower... but it picks up as the game goes and I think the slowness is partially me being careful. It was fun to get on the field again. And I just get under the ball a bit on my only swing... otherwise the fly ball may have gone out. Oh well.
TUESDAY...
— Tired most of the day. As usual for day shift.
WEDNESDAY...
— Meet Karl for supper. Good to see him. Traffic is nuts though. Took more than an hour to get to his place... normally a 20-25 minute drive. Anyone thinking Ottawa doesn’t need a light rail or subway is bordering on delusional... as there were no traffic accidents... this just seemed to be 4:45 evening traffic.
THURSDAY...
— Work on Canada Day. One less vacation day to use in a few weeks anyway. Me, Cindy, Phil and Amy are the only four people in the building today. It’s nice actually as I’m the only one in AFIS and I just plug in to music and podcasts and go to it.
FRIDAY...
— 10 to 6 for the second straight day at work. The best of all times to go in... wish that could be my shift.
SATURDAY...
— Dentist... a little filling. Small enough that no freezing was needed. But this made me nervous cause I thought “what if he drills too far down and I really SHOULD have had that freezing”. But it all goes fine and I’m done in ten minutes or so.
— Movie night. Sarah and I watch a few movies... Cairo Times is good... Friday the 13th is iffy.
Walked in the rain.
Light and drizzly.
Side by side,
Shoulders hunched.
Hat brims low.
Walked in the sun.
Bright and glowing.
Slow pace,
Trying to avoid sweat.
Pausing on the bridge,
Checking the ducks and searching for fish.
Walked in winter.
Dark and snowy.
Layered winter walkers
Peering into the icy river below.
Pitying the ducks.
As they huddle along frozen reeds.
Our breath smoking into the night.
Walked for a meal.
Reaching the pub.
A drink awaits.
A fire in winter.
Removed windows in summer.
The Happy Waitress cheering our moods.
Walked for a movie.
Fresh buttered popcorn.
The smell of which comes blocks away.
Thanks to the memory of past times.
An old Bond movie on big screen, we smile.
Karl’s story of the homeless man,
A regular along the way.
The record store we never enter but always pause at.
Dairy Queen.
For a treat on the return in August.
Under the bridge,
Flooded in Spring.
De-graffitied by an eccentric years before,
As he tells his tale, a ten minute talk... a result of Karl’s comment... “good job”.
The walk of friends.
Off for a drink, a meal, a movie.
And checking on the ducks.
As we share the times we’ve had.
Since our last such walk.
MONDAY...
— After three months and three weeks... I play ball again. The old slowpitch team needed a body. I’m rusty... and slower... but it picks up as the game goes and I think the slowness is partially me being careful. It was fun to get on the field again. And I just get under the ball a bit on my only swing... otherwise the fly ball may have gone out. Oh well.
TUESDAY...
— Tired most of the day. As usual for day shift.
WEDNESDAY...
— Meet Karl for supper. Good to see him. Traffic is nuts though. Took more than an hour to get to his place... normally a 20-25 minute drive. Anyone thinking Ottawa doesn’t need a light rail or subway is bordering on delusional... as there were no traffic accidents... this just seemed to be 4:45 evening traffic.
THURSDAY...
— Work on Canada Day. One less vacation day to use in a few weeks anyway. Me, Cindy, Phil and Amy are the only four people in the building today. It’s nice actually as I’m the only one in AFIS and I just plug in to music and podcasts and go to it.
FRIDAY...
— 10 to 6 for the second straight day at work. The best of all times to go in... wish that could be my shift.
SATURDAY...
— Dentist... a little filling. Small enough that no freezing was needed. But this made me nervous cause I thought “what if he drills too far down and I really SHOULD have had that freezing”. But it all goes fine and I’m done in ten minutes or so.
— Movie night. Sarah and I watch a few movies... Cairo Times is good... Friday the 13th is iffy.
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