Bec's Happybox

Spaghetti Bolognese and Amizetta Complexity

My meal planning takes many forms.  Sometimes I know on Sunday exactly what time I'm going to start making the soup on Thursday and the ingredients are already in the fridge, just waiting for 4:30pm Thursday to make their appearnace.  In Appetite, Nigel Slater writes that he dislikes this far-ahead planning of meals.  He wonders, how can you know on Sunday what you are going to want to eat on Thursday? I agree with him, and in an ideal world, I would be a little more spontaneous.  But until my kids are older (or perhaps until I've retired) that eat-exactly-what-I'm-in-the-mood-for-and-everything-is-absolutely-at-its-peak-freshness-at-all-times lifestyle is just not in the picture. 

Noboru Wataya in da House

Okay, that title doesn't actually make any sense unless you've read The Wind-up Bird Chronicle, so I suppose it's a bit of an injoke for those in my book club.  In the book, Noboru Wataya is the name given to a cat with a bent tail.  Later, the cat gets a new tail and a new name, but you'll have to read the book to find out all about that.  If you actually read it, and have a notion what that whole tail thing signifies, please do email me!  I can't figure it out.

Anyway, this is a Blackberry update.  We didn't end up taking her to the vet, since her mood seemed to improve more and more as the day wore on, and I knew that taking her to the vet would seriously harsh her gig.  I coaxed her back into the house after dinner and she was behaving normally at that point.  She slept with me that night and appeared completely recovered by Tuesday morning. 

Today, she is again fine, and the tail even seems slightly less bent, though that could be just my imagination.  Maybe she will have a full recovery, and maybe she will keep this new, Watayaesque tail forever.  So long as she is not in pain, I'm not too concerned. 

A few notes about this blog

1) For those who don't read other Typepad blogs, please note that all pictures in the entries are links to large versions of themselves.  Click on the pictures as you read the entry for photographic evidence of my adventures.

2) I thought the photo I originally uploaded as my "author icon" was hilarious, the idea being that the blog is called Happybox and in my photo I look so miserable.  Combined with the picture of M'hijo screaming that was originally directly underneath my photo, I thought the layout was a jolly good joke.  Not so, apparently.  Bear stopped by the house yesterday to ask why I had used "that lousy picture" in my otherwise acceptable design.  Since he didn't get the joke, I must assume no one else did.  Still, I amused myself, and that's what matters.  :)

3) Please note the new, spring-themed author photo.

The Sugar Shack in March

Pink, my dad's partner, owns some land on Saltspring Island, and we periodically visit it to, as Sahsez says "sit in the field and eat".  The land really is just one big field, with Pink's Sugar Shack in one corner, and my dad's fifth wheel in another.  It's a great place to go for a couple of days to get away from work, email, the phone, and anything else that's hassling you back on Vancouver Island.

Poor Kitty

Well, I was going to do a nice weekend recap today, but I am too distraught.  Blackberry's tail got caught in a door about an hour ago and appears to be broken.  I tend to lose my mind when she gets hurt so I am all upset and scattered right now.

She seems to be not in too much pain.  She is walking around the backyard and licking herself a lot.  I fed her some of her favourite Friskas and she seemed to enjoy that and let me pet her and stuff.  But the tail is definitely damaged.  It's bent about two-thirds of the way up and while she's moving it around quite a bit, that top third is just dangling there.

At 3:30 my mom will come home from work and then we will assess her and decide whether or not to take her into the vet.  Right now I'm thinking any pain relief she might get from a shot is not worth the trauma of catching her, stuffing her into a box, and carrying her down the road to the vet's office.  She hates the vet.  My poor girl!

Welcome to the new Happybox

If you're reading this, it means that my DNS redirect worked, and you have found my new blog.  Welcome!  I have moved out of the Dark Ages and gotten myself a Typepad account.  I am hoping this will make the user experience more pleasant.

I have been resisting making this change for a long time, for no good reason other than I am averse to change in general.  What forced my hand was that I recently sat down to read some of my archives.  Man was that tedious!  The page-load time was sooooo long.  I love reading my journal -- actually, that's the primary reason I write it -- but reading my archives was absolutely grueling!  I felt guilty that I'd been subjecting my readers to that unpleasant exerience for so long. 

The page-load time here at Typepad is smokin' fast.  Helps to have a database, I guess ;)

Anyway, I am going to Saltspring for the weekend, but I hope to have an update on Monday, and more updates in general from here on out.  (Yes, I realize I have said that before, but I feel so inspired by this new format, it might actually take this time).

The archives are not all up and it will take a long time to get them there, but I am working on it, usually during breastfeeding sessions. 

There are four photo albums to look at in the sidebar. 

There is a new email address: twizzleton.fyfe@gmail.com.

Have a great weekend!

Lessons in Taxidermy

I finished Bee Lavender's memoir Lessons in Taxidermy today.  I stayed up an hour past my bedtime reading it last night, which is a major sacrifice for me with my broken sleep, because it was so riveting.  Then, I sat down with it this morning while I was nursing M'hijo and didn't realize until I was done that I'd been reading and nursing for a full hour!  M'hijo will basically nurse all day if I let him. 

I did not expect to learn so much or be so affected or amazed by this book.  It's the memoir of a woman who has suffered many illnesses (actually, the word illness seems too mild here; horrors would be more accurate) and one terrible car accident.  She had her first cancer removed at the age of twelve and things basically got worse and worse for her.

As someone who routinely checks all of the "no" boxes on medical forms, I don't think I've ever considered what it's like for people who tend to check all of the "yes" boxes.  My father has accused me of having no sympathy for people who suffer from poor health (including him).  After Taxidermy, I can see that he is correct.  I really did not have an understanding of sickness at all.  Now, I think I get it.  And yes, dad, I am an ass.

While reading in the living room with Tobias the other night, I had to put the book down and take a few deep breaths before I could continue.  How could these things happen to someone, and how could that someone survive with any semblance of humanity left?  I frequently choked back tears while reading point-blank accounts of uncomfortable, painful, and often humiliating medical procedures and heart-breaking and terrifying symptoms.

Of course, the book wouldn't have made such an impact if it wasn't so beautifully crafted.  The narrative really carries you along and unlike so many books that I've read recently that jump back and forth between two timelines, the device was totally appropriate and made the book more engaging rather than being distracting and frustrating.  I'm looking your way, Haruki Murakami. 

I won't lie and say I found the the book uplifting, although the author's stamina, resilience, and strength are awe-inspiring.  There were more than a few times where I actually got really scared and thought "Oh my God, how could I have possibly brought children into this terrible, terrible world?"  But although it was a bit depressing, it felt so TRUE that even the experience of being depressed was something I relished. 

Hmm, I'm not sure if I'm explaining that well.  What I mean is just that I guess I don't see "depressing" as a negative comment on this particular work.   I mean, illness and suffering are not cheery, you know? 

After I finished the book, I thought of the Muriel Rukeyser quote: "What would happen if one woman told the truth about herself? The world would split open."   I don't know about the world, but Bee Lavender's truth has totally blown my mind. 

Testing testing 123

It's nearly noon. Around ten, I thought it would be a good idea to take a little time to organize some old photos into a photo album that my mom bought for me yesterday. Actually, I wanted to make an album with our vacation photos but I couldn't find them so I started doing a 2002-3 one instead. Now I am heartily sick of it. I want to just do something, anything else, but I feel I need to finish what I started. I would rather be cleaning the bathroom, and that's saying something.

Which is not to say that I don't enjoy looking at albums. I love looking at our old pictures. But putting them in the album is just so damn tedious. I'm pretty sure that I would enjoy scrapbooking about as much as a kick in the pants. And, at the risk of offending 80% of my readers, I have to admit that I hate scrapbooks too. Sorry, but I do! I just hate the whole concept. It's not the megalomania of the thing. Surely I can't hate that, since I'm rocking my own 6-year old vanity website here. But there's something about scrapbooks and scrapbooking that I just loathe. Not scrapbookERs though. I love many scrapbookERs. Hate the sin, not the sinner. Ha. I am so droll.

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What else to say today? You already know that I hate deer. You already know that I am on a big housekeeping kick. I am too lazy to write the long overdue part II of my comparison of the obstetrician and the midwife. And about other people's baby's milestones is boring and, anyway, M'hijo hasn't really done anything yet except gurgle and coo and throw the occasional fit.

Okay, I'm boring myself to death. I thought I might do a PSA on the East Africa crisis, but I couldn't find the right info. All I know is that there's some relief organization that will triple-match donations made (you give 25, they give 75, for example) to the Kenyan relief effort before March 28th. But damned if I can find out where to send the money, except if you go to my church, in which case they will take care of it. Anyway, here is one link about the horrible situation in East Africa. If you're Canadian, try to figure out this quadruple your donation thing. It sounds good, but I just can't find who's doing it. I don't think it's CIDA, but maybe.

Identity Crisis

Alright, it is time to come clean (HA!) about my new hobby: housekeeping.

"HA!", you say, "good one, Bec! Housekeeping indeed! You couldn't keep a tree stump house!"

Well, yes, it's true, I am a lousy housekeeper. At least, I have been a lousy one. But no more!

La Lent

When I go to church or do any other religious activities Tobias calls it my "perfect life of piety". This photo is for him.

So I am giving up chocolate for Lent, which, if you know me well, may seem a bit weird, since I'm not much of a chocolate lover. Or it may seem completely normal, because it's easy to give up something that you don't care that much for anyway. However, you should know that I have developed a bit of a chocolate habit of late, so in fact I am giving up something that I do find myself wanting on a daily basis.