February 2006


Honestly, this stuff makes me squeal:

1. 1st Annual Friends of the Mediaeval Studies Society Symposium
The Friends of the Mediaeval Studies Society of the ROM is a new association of ROM members and others professionally involved with the mediaeval period.This one day series of talks will represent the exciting beginning of what will be a long tradition in Toronto. Ten academics of international reputation will speak on various aspects of the Mediaeval world, including archaeology, history, culture, and art. Chronologically, the scope of the society, and of the symposium, runs from the late classical world leading up to Mediaeval times, and encompasses the Renaissance at the end. Geographically it crosses the old world from Europe to Asia and Africa, having a general interest in the Age of the Stirrup wherever it occurs. Apart from the ROM, various University of Toronto Departments dealing with the Mediaeval world will be supporting this new venture.
One day. 930-5PM

2. Spinning Up Colour
This two-day workshop for those with basic spinning skills convers colour theory, the correct method of mixing acid dyes, various methods of applying colour to wool, creating multi-coloured batts and spinning coloured wool for maximum effect. You will gets lots of resource information to continue further on your own.
Two days. 10-4PM

I’ve already received confimation for the Mediaeval Studies Symposium, but not for the Spinning workshops yet. *crosses fingers*

It’s Shrove Tuesday… what’s for dinner?
PANCAKES of course!!

A couple of weeks ago, while Jordan was in Art School, I went to a branch of the public library in Guelph and studied for a bit. The place was PACKED. In the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday. Weird. There were construction guys at the computers and reading magaizines. A tonne of people reading newspapers. Several people, who appeared not to be together, were looking at historical maps of the region. A few moms and their kids. There was nowhere to sit so I headed for the basement. There were dozens of people there too – and this is a little library. I found a seat at a long row of desks set up like one long table.

Behind me, beyond some book stacks, were the washrooms. The toilet paper dispenser in the men’s washroom squeaked. And honestly, one man after another went in there and was yanking on the paper roll. squeeeeaaaAAAAAkkkkkk! SqueeeEEEEEEEEAAAAAKkkkkkkkkk! There was so much traffic in and out of there and so much squeaking, I was beginning to wonder if the men’s washroom at the Guelph Public library was a rendezvous point for gay men.

A ways down the row of desks, to my right, and across the table from me, sat Jesus. And here, by “Jesus”, I mean, “a tall bearded white man with blue eyes and long wavy sandy-brown hair wearing a long trenchcoat”. Jesus, it seems, has ADD. He was quite a ways from me, and I am a pretty quiet person, but I was no match for the super-senses of the Messiah. Every time I turned a page or picked up a pen or put down my eraser, His head would bob up from the magazine He was reading and swing around to see what I was doing. I tried to be even quieter, but it was no good. Jesus has piercing blue eyes, so I could tell, even out of the corner of my eye, that He was looking at me and for how long. Each time He looked, it seemed, He did a thorough check of my books and me and what I was doing. He wasn’t scowling or anything; He seemed pleasant. But still, I felt bad for disturbing Him.

Here is something I didn’t know about ADD: it is contagious. You see, I’d be lost in my work, and Jesus would be reading his magazine, and I’d turn a page. Jesus’ super-senses instantly pick up the page-turning and His head bobs up and He’s looking at me with that piercing stare… and I’m aware of His umm.. awareness and I feel self-concious for disturbing Him and out of the corner of my eye I watch Him watching me until He turns his attention back to His magazine. With all this covert looking back and forth, I began to feel like I was flirting with the Son of God.

Eventually, I was aware that Jesus was getting ready to leave. I kept my eyes on my books but after a moment I realized that Jesus was coming toward me. “Oh god, I hope He doesn’t want me to wash His feet!” I thought to myself. You see, I hate feet. And then, when I realized I had not a single drop of wine with me, I was really concerned. Sure enough Jesus stopped in front of me and waited. Looking up, I was careful to mask my surprise at the fact that Jesus smelled strongly of cigarette smoke. I smiled. “Hi!” I said, because I really have a way with words. “Hi!” Jesus said, “I was wondering where you found that reference book. It interests Me and I’d like to look at it next time I’m here.” He was pointing to my hokey anatomy book.

“Oh, that isn’t a library book it’s mine. I got it last week at Chapters in the bargain books section. It was only twelve dollars or something.” Jesus looked sad. “Umm.. it is only a basic book, not a lot of the really fine detail.” I added. “Yes,” He said, “that’s what I have been looking for. I’ll go to Chapters this weekend.” I told him that I wasn’t using the book at that moment and He was free to look at it for a while if He liked. And He did like. He sat down, right across from me and read my hokey anatomy book for about 10 minutes. I was sad to see that Jesus has tremors. Finally, He got up to leave. He thanked me kindly for the use of my book, smiled, and strode away. I watched the back of His trenchcoat as His long legs carried him across the floor until He disappeared behind a book stack. As I heard His steps on the stairs back up to the first floor, I imagined him rummaging through his coat pockets for a cigarette and lighter, because Jesus smokes, you know.

Ok… the unthinkable… the unimaginable has happened.
Canada gets no medal in men’s hockey.
Canadians, being the grumperinas that we are, seem to have totally forgotten that our women’s hockey team rules the freaken planet.

In good news. This could have been a severe blow to the Canadian psyche. Disaster has been averted however, as Canadians are still not fully aware of the gravity of this loss.

Most are still preoccupied with the thought: “The Swiss play hockey?!”

First of all, I hate my knitting.
Not just some of it. ALL of it. I can’t even stand to look at it. I shoved it all in a bag, which I then shoved all the way under the chair. You know, the knitting chair. The chair that I don’t even like to sit in anymore.

Second, while Jordan is doing really well in school and is reading up a storm, I, personally, am so sick of the materials we are using that I can hardly stand to bring them out each day and do the lessons with him.

Third, death needs to go away now. I’ve had enough.

Fourth, why is it so hard to find out how to set up a not-for-profit? WHY? Since not-for-profit means charity, shouldn’t there be some straightforward way of doing this that doesn’t mean paying $$ fora lawyer? You’d think.

Fifth, well.. you get the picture.

Jordan is, as always he often is, a ray of sunshine. This morning, we had a date. When he got home from hockey at about 730AM, he came and got into bed with me for snuggles. We snuggled for half an hour. And he told me I’m the best mom ever.
So there. And still, I’m wearing the grumpy-pants. I don’t know how I managed that.

Today is the day. The opening ceremony. yay!! Of course, we will watch hours and hours and hours of Olympic coverage. I scheduled our history lessons so that we’d be studying ancient Greece while the Olympics are on (Jordan: Good thing they didn’t have a winter Olympics – playing hockey naked would suck!).

There are the Winter Olympics and then there are the Knitting Olympics. Oh yes. Long ago, I sadly realized that I will never be an Olympian *sniff* But the Yarn Harlot has brought me hope! Now I can be! I joined the Knitting Olympics. I will be an Olympian after all!

I’ve chosen to compete in the Wrestling competition… that is, I’m going to take two projects that have been oppressing me and refusing to co-operate and wrestle them into submission. My Olympic Challenge is two-fold:
1. Finish the Jesse’s Flame’s sweater I have been knitting since dinosaurs roamed the earth.
2. Knit another ball of yarn (Kidsilk haze) into the lace behemoth that has repeatedly pinned me to the mat over the last year.

I’m ready. I bought a big roomy bag so I can carry my knitting around more comfortably. I bought new wooden needles and had them sharpened so that maybe, just maybe, that damn Kidsilk Haze will behave. In my fantasies, I imagine that one more ball will finish the lace, but I doubt it. One more ball will mean I WIN though… the lace will be oppressing me no more!

Even Jordan has gotten in on the act. He has decided to knit a hat for his Olympic Challenge. Oh yes. We are a houseful of athletes around here!

Also…

Dear Sp*mmers,
I hate you.
Don’t you think that more than 200 sp*m comments to my blog in the last 36 hours is a little over the top? My inbox is so full of your crap, I can’t find my real mail. I have real comments to reply to. I have real mail to read and deal with. Yet, there you are.
It’s like when the sewer backs up into your basement. My inbox was a perfectly good basement, but now that it is full of raw sewage, well, it’s a real pain to deal with, yanno? And it stinks.
Please go away.
Hugs and kisses,
me.

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