Saturday, January 05, 2008

I have been having the urge to phone Al Gore. Yesterday it was -59 C with the windchill. My mum has been reading his book, and keeps emailing me little dire bits of prediction. I'd like to call him and let him listen to "the sound of yr breath freezing in yr lungs when you step outside" or "the sound of yr fingers turning to ice and breaking off" if you are foolish enough to take off a mitten.

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

"Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: Whom resist stedfast in the faith".

It's from 1 Peter. Quoted because I've been wondering for a while why "stedfast." (and not because I'm sermonizing.) It was topical today given the state of things in the cell block, and I was thinking about it. It's a passage that begins Compline every night in my prayer book.

Old English is Stedefaest. Run the A&E together. And it has to do with standing fast. Where 'stede' means place (like a homestead). And faest meaning 'fixed firmly in place'. So stedfast or steadfast, I can't find any explanation why one is better than the other, sounds pretty solid.
This week I reread Kingsley Amis - Stanley and the Women. One of my books that came up on the barge.

While I was reading, I realized that the last time I read it, I had imagined the details differently. As in, the main characters lived in a different house. And I could slightly remember the other house I had put them in, when I read it before - it was on the other side of the road, and the tree that Stanley's mad son sits in was on a boulevard. But even after I remembered, I couldn't put them back in the original house. Maybe this is just something that happens as time passes - characters in books get bored with their surroundings and move house.
It's a New Year.

The phone was ringing in the other room, this morning. I woke up and thought, why aren't I at work? We were out late, karaoke and some homemade salmonberry liqueur that I could still taste. Not an unpleasant feeling, necessarily, but I was a little groggy.

On the phone was the young man in the guard room. He said to me, in a tone of voice I'm sure I've exhibited before in similar circumstances,"I've been here for 11 hours and they've been screaming and throwing up all night. I've called everyone on the guard list and nobody can come." I told him I'd be right there.

So I spent my New Year's Day watching people sleep off their parties. None of them knew where they were when they woke up, either.

As a side note, if you are ever incarcerated for public drunkenness, please refrain from throwing up in the cell sink. Somebody has to clean that up, you know.