time travel?

Christmas is almost here. This year I am NOT working retail, and I'm not so Scrooge-ish, on the whole. I've been baking, and I've done some Christmas shopping, and I haven't been yelled at by a single frustrated Christmas shopper. Bliss.

"Geek at 9 O'Clock, Carl"

"Prairie dogs, those little pups popping in and out of holes on vacant lots and rural rangeland, are talking up a storm. They have different 'words' for tall human in yellow shirt, short human in green shirt, coyote, deer, red-tailed hawk, and many other creatures", says The Associated Press. "They can even coin new terms for things they've never seen before, independently coming up with the same calls or words, according to Con Slobodchikoff, a Northern Arizona University biology professor and prairie dog linguist." Most scientists think prairie dogs simply make sounds that reflect their inner condition. That means all they're saying are things like "ouch" or "hungry" or "eek". But Prof. Slobodchikoff believes prairie dogs are communicating detailed information to one another about what animals are showing up in their colonies, and maybe even gossiping. -- The Globe and Mail, December 7, 2004, p. A20.

Yes, I'm supposed to be writing a paper. But this is much more interesting.

FROGS!

Kids came home from school yesterday with a warning about a cougar in the area. One of the tips they give for cougar interactions is:

"Stay calm. Talk to the cougar in a confident voice."

I wonder how the cougar will recognize that one's voice is confident? And what will that accomplish? It also doesn't tell you what to say....

Well, it looks as if I'll be going back to work tomorrow. At M's work, on a project that requires someone to answer the phones and speak French to callers. A challenge... It was funny, because just after Miguel told me that, the Jehovah's Witness lady who came to the door the first day I was off work showed up again....

It's grey and rainy here this morning, typical west coast weather. Kids have gone to school, and I'm sitting here with my coffee and my notes for a paper on conceptions of power in critical criminological theory.

I'm thinking that my feeling that I wouldn't get the job I interviewed for last week was correct. The woman who interviewed me said she would make her decision by the end of last week, and no-one called. The joys of the 'looking for work' vacuum. I worked at Community Policing on Friday, and for once the phone rang a fair bit.

The library had a book on hold for me, Rupert Ross' "Returning to the Teachings", on Aboriginal approaches to justice, and I picked it up on Saturday. One sentence that stands out, so far, for me:

"Sacred justice is found when the importance of restoring understanding and balance to relationships has been acknowledged" (27).

"Do not pursue what is illusory -- property and position: all that is gained at the expense of your nerves decade after decade and can be confiscated in one fell night. Live with a steady superiority over life -- don't be afraid of misfortune, and do not yearn after happiness; it is after all, all the same: the bitter doesn't last forever, and the sweet never fills the cup to overflowing". -- Alexander Solzhenitsyn.

I was sitting on the school bus with Ian, driving through Vancouver, and in the darkness he reached out to hold my hand. We sat in silence for a while, as Chinatown slid past the windows. I thought of how much joy he and his sisters have brought into my life, and how I wished I could stop the moment and just stay in it for a while. He said, "I'm glad you came with me, Mum". I thought about his mind, and how it slides away from my understanding now that he is getting older and doesn't share his every thought like he did when he was little. He had slyly pointed out the girl he likes, earlier in the day, and I noticed, in the dark, that she was sitting in the next seat. Does she watch him? I don't know. I'm glad I went with him, too.

off to school today, and then tomorrow I'm going with Ian's class to see the Anne Frank exhibit and ScienceWorld in Vancouver. 30 grade 5's, shudder.

I don't think I'll be getting the job I interviewed for yesterday. It was a decidedly antagonistic interview, conducted by a stone-faced woman. Fun fun fun.

comments, if you got 'em about what Chris Rock said, to kaiel(at)shaw.ca

another job interview, for next monday. A non-retail job! hope hope

Comedian Chris Rock has said, 'A man is only as faithful as his options'.

Oh, a very long five days. So hard to be the one at home.

I've been applying for work, but so far no bites. a couple of expressions of "interest in seeing my resume" which were followed by silence, one job interview followed by a phone call to ask for the phone numbers of my references, then after that silence too. I think that's the thing that sucks the most about applying for work, the fact that nobody actually ever calls you and says, "you don't have the job and here's why", there's just a vacuum.

Still struggling with a lot of emotion. And the same questions about responsibility for actions. Boundaries. Where do I end and others begin? So many of my current relationships, with the guys I know in prison, are one-sided. I know that in some ways, this is not ultimately helpful to them in reentering the outside world, to give them what they need and not ask for anything for myself. Some of them are very perceptive, and tell me things about myself that I hadn't known, but I try to be pretty upbeat with them, they have enough problems of their own without me sharing mine. Not that mine (I watched Casablanca last night) are worth a hill of beans in the face of a world full of trouble, but they seem pretty important to me. Perspective. All depends on where you stand.

I struggle to retain connection to my life. So far I'm succeeding. But we'll see.

Karen from AVP is in Bali, and is keeping a diary with fantastic pictures and stories.

M and I were trying to decide this morning how the dogs know it's 8am. I never let them outside before 8, because as soon as they go out they have to do a perimeter bark to scare off any birds/squirrels/raccoons that might be unwary enough to be in the yard. It's noisy with both of them running pell-mell and barking wildly, and I don't want to disturb the neighbours. But they seem to know that they won't be allowed out until 8, and if I don't go to open the patio door right at eight, they stand next to it and cough meaningfully. M thinks that they recognize the program change on CBC radio, the change in tone of the wrap-up talking and/or the little piece of music they play on the hour. I've always wondered if they listen to the radio, the dogs, and maybe that answers my question. The kids hear it, I know that. The other day I overheard Ian singing a little song that he had made up, to the tune of The Ride of the Valkyries... The kids also whistle the classical pieces M plays on his guitar, little echoes going on around the house.

Things I do with my time now.

Homework. Lots of it. Marxist criminology, correctional policy...
Make food. Pea soup with the Thanksgiving hambone, apple pie with apples from the tree outside...
Laundry. This in itself is almost a full-time job. I suspect Rachel of secretly being three people, she certainly wears enough clothes to qualify.
Work of the unpaid variety. Organizing a hotdog and popcorn thing to raise money for the crime prevention group, working at the community police station, helping at M's work.
Write letters. Lots of that, too.
Go to classes. Tuesdays at Simon Fraser, and for the next little while Saturdays and Wednesday evenings at Malaspina, for a counselling skills course.
Look for work. This is an exercise in not applying for retail jobs that I know I would probably get, and finding that I'm not really qualified yet for anything more interesting. Sigh.
Smoke... and hang out with M.
Naps.
Tai Chi. Which I am greatly enjoying, and I can do the beginner's set without someone prompting me; white stork spreads wings, present flowers...
Talk to the kids. And read to them. Play with them. Also the dogs. Although they don't talk back much.

In other words, at the moment I am blessed. I don't have to do anything I don't enjoy....

In the process of trying to get to the play at William Head, my car died, leaving me stranded by the side of the road. Since we don't want to put any more money into it, and a tow truck to come out of Nanaimo and tow it back would be expensive, we called a salvage yard and had it taken away. So no more car for me. I practiced this afternoon driving M's RAV, which is a standard, I haven't driven one since I crashed my own car, but it came back to me.

I enjoyed the Community Policing station. I'll have to answer the phone, which will be good for me to practice. I also have to call a list of shut-ins whose families have requested that someone check on them regularly.

I did end up taking on another volunteer thing. I'm training on Friday to work at the Community Police Station downtown. I've also been working at M's office, cleaning up their financials again. I always like working there, it's so quiet, I do paperwork and no-one interrupts me, in my own businesses where the necessary paperwork was accompanied by panic from customers, staff, suppliers... Or I could do it at home, with help from kids and dogs.

Long day today. Went to school, listened to Dr. Lowman's conspiracy theories...

Hey, Graeme, need some ideas for what to name your (hypothetical) future baby?

well, I'm smoking again. Yup, quit for 4 and a half years, started again in August. One thing I've noticed is that I have to take extras when I go to Vancouver. When I get off the bus downtown, I have taken to sitting in a little courtyard on the corner of Granville and having a cigarette. Inevitably, someone will come up to me and ask for a cigarette. Same on the ferry. So I take extra. I figure if I can have my little habit, so can the homeless folk. They always ask so diffidently, one the other day said, in greeting, "You're going to hate me", but I was already rummaging through my bag for the pack I had just put back in there, and his face brightened right away. They usually say, "Do you have an extra cigarette?" I always say, "I sure do," and give it to them with a big smile. Then I warn them, "they're kind of strong", and they never seem to mind. On Tuesday a young man who told me he was a heroin addict repaid me for the cigarette by doing his rap stuff for me. (Mind if I sit down and share a smoke with you? What kind of music do you like? I'm a rapper, wanna hear my stuff?) He told me his name was MC Vital, and although I'm sure I'm no judge of rap, it didn't sound too trite. Afterwards he said, "you have to applaud", so I did, laughing, and thanked him, and we shook hands. If I'm going to be panhandled, I may as well enjoy it. Was it good for you?

I have been somewhat lazy, since quitting work. I've been doing my schoolwork, and cleaning the house and rearranging the storage area in the basement, but I've also been hanging around in my pajamas and having naps in the afternoon. I saw one of my former employees today and she told me I looked relaxed. I certainly feel relaxed. The only fly in my ointment is a rather nasty email war between members of AVP, that they have seen fit to involve the rest of us in. I feel as if I have wandered into a minefield, and a misstep could bring a lot of grief. Fingers are being pointed, and blame tossed around, in a way that most definitely does not bring out the principles of non-violence. I begin to wonder if the volunteers are perhaps less together than the prisoners. I thoroughly enjoy the correspondence I get from the guys, their letters are great, but the volunteers are given to back-stabbing and advancing their personal agendas...