Creampuff Revolution

Creampuff is a Village Tease

As is our tradition, Katr gave me a new Dickens Village piece for our anniversary this year and yesterday, I began the exciting task of composing vignettes for my two village locations - the village of Wintersea (the filing cabinet and windowsill in the office) and the bustling town of Rosewood Cross (two! of the bookshelves in the living room).

Urban planning was challenging this year and I only had time to finish the Wintersea vignette, so you'll have to wait for the big reveal until I finish Rosewood Cross later this week.

But here is a taste - the long-absent Bluebird cottage (in suburban Wintersea, a.k.a. a corner of my desk), where Dottie and Sandra tend their three French hens by day and tend their two French hens by the fire all night. IF. YOU. KNOW. WHAT. I. MEAN.

They're lesbians.

Shar Pei Sunday Rides Again

I laughed so hard last week after I posted that Effie is "so good" at the park and it's "less stressful" for me and the day after my post, she got chomped in the park by a coonhound named Daisy.

JESUS.

Fortunately, the wound wasn't vet-worthy, although we DID happen to have a vet appointment on Friday, so that worked out.

Our vet appointment was a general wellness exam, plus we had some allergy questions but honestly, top of mind for me was that one of our dog walkers thought that Effie was getting fat.

I paraphrase.

Effie has been pretty lithe for a shar pei but since her last vet visit in January, it turns out that she's gained six pounds.

SOME of that MIGHT be continued growing (she just turned three) but the rest of it was a mystery. She gets a ton of exercise and eats million-dollar raw food and OMG WE'RE SO FAT WE CAN'T HAVE A FAT DOG WE GET JUDGED ENOUGH FUCK

Kind Dr. V agreed that Effie was a "scooch" overweight but nothing serious. He wants to see her lose 2lbs over the next couple of months. For allergy reasons, we're adjusting her diet anyway, so the weight will probably take care of itself. But if not, she may just sweat the weight off, because I am not taking her to the off-leash park without a protective raincoat for the foreseeable future.

CHOMP THROUGH THIS, DAISY, you long eared fuckface.

 

 

Creampuffs Have Been Married for ELEVEN YEARS!!

The traditional anniversary gift for 11 years is steel.

Instead, I gave Katr the new Harry Potter Trivial Pursuit, because we are nerdz. And Katr gave me a new village building and accessory but it's not village time yet, so you'll have to wait and see what the Rosewood Cross Planning Commission apprrrroved for this year. 

But in a sense, Katr also gave me steel for our anniversary. NERVES of steel, that is.

Last year, you may recall how Katr saved our house from burning down and my dinner, all in one fell swoop. Last year, you may also recall, was the year we replaced our sad pre-lit tree with a fancy new pre-lit tree.

Something I failed to mention last year is that the new tree is a real piece of shit.

Now, to be fair, only one of the two main problems with the tree is intentional. The tree is a little spindly. It looked a little spindly even in the promo photos, probably because it is VERY difficult to fluff.

I like a full tree and even after extensive fluffing, this one looks a little anemic. I understand that some folks favour this style of tree, because they don't know any better and they're stupid. Trees should be fluffy. This is on us, for buying an insufficiently full tree.

Now that we're on the second year of this tree, I HAVE to think that the SECOND problem with this tree is a manufacturer's error. The base of the tree SHOULD unfold into an X, so that the weight of the tree is equally distributed over four points. The base of THIS tree unfolds to a couple of tight Vs (heh heh), so the tree isn't as stable. 

Last year, it seemed to work okay, but last year, Drtr set up the tree. This year, it was on me to do it and after much consultation with Katr, we determined that the V configuration of the base was the only possible configuration, given where the screws have to go. So we set it up and began the delightful task of decorating it with our extensive ornament collection.

About three quarters of the way through decorating it, I had just finished hanging one of the heavier ornaments when the tree suddenly lurched at me, like Frankenstein's monster covered in glitter. I caught it before it crashed to the ground and then just stood there, holding this motherfucking tree.

I let go. It came at me again.

I nearly lost my shit. It had been a long day, Aunt Flo is in town and I'd spent almost an hour painstakingly locating the perfect spot on the tree for each of our precious ornaments. My chubby little face crumpled.

That's when Katr, whose brain hamster had gotten on the wheel the second she saw the tree move, rolled into action.

First, she got a bag. Then, she filled the bag with books from the bookshelf we'd been clearing off for my village display. Then she got some twine. Then, she told me, in a calm voice, that I would have to take the bag of books and use it as ballast to hold up the tree via the twine.

As Katr supported the listing tree, I lay down and humped around like a seal until I was under the tree enough to put the books in place.

Then, as Katr continued to hold the tree and say encouraging things, I tried to tie the twine around the tree. This manoeuvre was complicated by the fact that my seal humping moves had shifted my lesbian plaid shirt around in such a way that I had one free arm and one short, Tyrannosaurus arm.

After a lot of swearing and fucking around with the book bag, with Katr giving chill and measured suggestions in response to my wild Tyrannosaur flailings, we managed to get the tree to a more balanced place. 

Then Swiss Chalet brought us the festive special. And when we woke up this morning, the tree was still up!! WINNING.

Anyway. Katr.

Thank you for being the level head in our moments of domestic crisis.

Thank you for still wanting to be married to me when I do that thing where I repeat what you've said in a slightly different way in order to indicate that I have understood you but it SOUNDS like I'm disagreeing with you when in fact, I am agreeing with you.

Thank you for taking our dog into the vet's office without me yesterday because I get too stressed out.

Thank you for trying to figure out why Chrome keeps crashing on my computer.

Thank you for sharing your genius ideas with me and then not laughing in my face when I share my stupid ideas and also, thank you for laughing at the weird face I made at you while I was scraping off the car window this morning.

You are my favourite human.

 

 

Creampuff Guesses That Fuck-Up Fridays Are a Thing Now

Another Friday, another missed NaBloPoMo day. WTF Fridays?

In my defence, yesterday was a very busy day - a first thing in the AM vet visit, workin', a meeting with a writin' friend and then, at 3:30pm, we decided to put the tree up.

It did not go well.

Creampuff's Wife Writes a Guest Post

I started this blog 13 years ago and in all that time, Katr has never written a guest post. But today she did, motherfuckers!! I'm glad she is here to raise the tone on the eve of her 50th birthday. I love you, Katr! I look forward to being crones with you.

I don't understand how I can be turning 50 years old in a couple of weeks. Seriously. I feel like I am 17 or 23 or maybe 35. Mentally, anyway. Physically, some days I feel like I'm 101. Is that a liver spot on my hand? Where did that weird blister on my elbow come from? Though I will not subject you to my delightful peri-menopause odyssey. Perhaps for next year's guest post. [ed. I WILL HOLD YOU TO THAT]

This aging thing really hit home for me today when I was starting a new writing assignment. I already use a 27" monitor. But when I opened Word, I increased the magnification to 200% and used my "typing font" of 12 pt Cambria (vs my printing font of 11 pt Arial).

Jesus. I feel like Scotty. 

My friend DaPo and I joke about being Grandpa Simpson and set in our curmudgeonly ways. "Kids! Get off my lawn!"

I also got "progressive lenses" for the first time this year. Three different lens strengths rolled into one pair of glasses: close up (for my pills), mid-range (for my giant computer screen) and distance (for driving - miraculously, they still let me drive - though I have to renew my driver's license before my birthday, so maybe they won't - lol - omg). I kind of hate them because it feels like I don't see anything very well now.

The nice Australian who adjusted them after I got my new prescription said it might take a few weeks to get used to it. My father-in-law said it took him a year. I'm somewhere in between those two and holding out hope. Though I still have to take them off for ultra tiny type. Especially when it is dark blue on silver. Who puts micro dark blue type on silver paper? I'm looking at you NutraSea Omega-3.

I've started gravitating towards media that depicts older women in a positive light. I insisted we watch Book Club. It was not the greatest movie, but it was comforting to see those four fantastic women on screen. And it made me grateful that I do not have children as annoying as Diane Keaton's in that movie. Fuck. I don't think I ever treat my mother like that. Mom, I apologize if I do.

And of course Grace and Frankie is a favourite as well. While I still have a good 20 years before I hit their ages, I find their exploits inspiring - particularly how they became entrepreneurs at 70. In real life, I am definitely an uptight Grace, though I'm hoping to age into a free-wheeling Frankie. We need more role models of successful older women. More stories about mid-life. Stories that aren't tragic or marginalizing.

I was recently delighted by an interview with Ann Dowd of The Handmaid's Tale fame.

I got through the shift, and I went home on my porch, and I wept and screamed into the night, "When?! When is my turn?" And it was one of those dark nights of the soul—we're all familiar, I'm sure. And a voice—I'm not kidding—quiet, probably from the inside, said, "It will all be fine. It will all be all right. You will be in your fifties. You will be 56." And I said, "Oh no! No, no!"—missing the whole point of the voice

Now, I've enjoyed success before hitting 50, which is amazing. But I want to embark on some new projects. At 50. And that is scary. But Ann inspires me.

Side note - It's interesting to watch The Handmaid's Tale knowing that, at my age, I'd be an Aunt and not a Handmaid.

So where does this leave me, a fortnight before 50? Hoping I have a few more decades left. Thankful for being able to take a risk on new projects at this point in my career. But mostly thankful for having such an incredible partner - in business and in life.

Guys, Rosemary sings my praises a lot on this blog. Most, if not all, of it is undeserved [ed. UNTRUE]. So I am thankful for this small chance to sing her praises. But I am not nearly as eloquent as she. So I'll just have to say it like this ...

[ed. Quiet weeping brought on by gifs of the greatest love story on television]

Creampuff Book Club

I don't wanna brag, but I've read 42 out of 45 of the books I told Goodreads I would read this year and not all of them where from when I re-read all seven Harry Potter books plus The Cursed Child. So.

I don't know what delights me more - giving books as gifts or receiving books as gifts (haha who am I kidding, it's receiving, I am a pillow queen when it comes to books). As gifting season approaches and I don't know what to write about today, I thought I'd share my top five reads of the year to help inspire your holiday shopping YOU'RE WELCOME SANTA

Record of a Spaceborn Few by Becky Chambers 

If I haven't harassed you in person about Becky Chambers, or given you one of her books, know about her. She is a queer sci fi author who writes the Wayfarers series. Katr bought me the first one, The Long Way to a Small Angry Planet, because it had good reviews but mainly because the main character's name is Rosemary (Rosemary). 

It's hard to describe what's so great about this series - it's sci fi but gentle, Star Trek:TNG-style sci fi with the wit of Firefly and a heart all its own. You love all the characters and you laugh out loud and also weep a little over the basic human kindnesses the characters show each other, even though many of the characters (in the first two books in particular) aren't actually human. 

Record of a Spaceborn Few is the third book in the series (the second one, A Closed and Common Orbit, might be my favourite). The books build upon each other and take place in the same universe, but each one is its own contained story, so you don't get any annoying cliffhangers at the end of Book 2 (I'm looking at you, V.E. Schwab).

Anyway, to sum up, Becky Chambers is awesome, you guys - GET ON IT.

The Wanderers by Meg Howrey

Outside of my general Becky Chambers fan grrrrling, I'd say this was my favourite read of the year. It's about three astronauts who go on a simulated Mars mission and how it affects them and their loved ones.

I love anything about Mars, so I was excited about this book, but was a little downhearted when I saw that some of the reviews on Goodreads complained that it was "boring" and "nothing happened". Those people are Philistine gits.

Each chapter is from the perspective of one of the seven main characters and each time I started a new chapter, I thought "Oh good!" because I was interested in all the characters and everything they were going through. It was funny and interesting. It made me really wish there was a sequel, where they actually go to Mars. Just sayin', Meg Howrey.

A good companion piece to this book is a podcast called The Habitat, about the first HI-SEAS simulated Mars mission in Hawaii a few years ago.

The Peripheral by William Gibson

Something I have always loved about William Gibson's speculative fiction/science fiction books is how he just plops you down in the world of the book and leaves it up to you to figure out what the fuck is going on based on contextual clues and very little exposition. I enjoy that kind of thing but if you don't, give this one a pass.

This was probably the toughest of his books to puzzle out but in the end it was worth it. Loved the crazy story, loved the main character Flynne and her world of ex-military dudes and her friend Janice, who does hate Kegels. 

This was probably my favourite of his books since the original Neuromancer trilogy (although I dug Pattern Recognition as well), so if you were into those, you'll probably love this.

The Centre of Winter by Marya Hornbacher

I was obsessed with Marya Hornbacher's memoir Wasted, so when I found out she'd written a novel ages ago, I got my hands on a copy.

I'm not generally a literary fiction fan and the premise of this - a father commits suicide and the story is about how his kids and wife deal with it - sound like a downer.

But this was a very life-affirming book, with each of the characters in the year after the father's death, coming into their own in different ways and it was LOVELY. 

Prisoners of Geography: Ten Maps That Tell You Everything You Need to Know About Global Politics by Tim Marshall

Okay, technically this one is from last year but it's still at the top of my list, because it's possibly the greatest, most informative book I've ever read. I'm not a total idiot but will also admit that my geopolitical knowledge is not particularly strong. Perhaps this book is a revelation only to me. But:

If you've always wondered why Russia is so crazy; if you know about as much about Mid-East peace as Jared Kushner; if you're embarrassed to admit that you don't really know what the hell is going on in most of Africa; if you've always wondered how relatively tiny Europe ended up being able to colonize so much of the world; if you don't get why China won't just effing free Tibet; if you know that the Korean war happened but you don't know why; if you're not super sure where the Falkland Islands are; read this book.

It not only illuminates several key points in ancient and recent history but puts them in an incredible helpful geographic context. Plus, it was an easy read. My only sadness is that the paperback edition came out RIIIIIIIGHT before Trump was elected and I'm sure the chapter about the US would have had a pretty interesting ending. But I'm sure Tim Marshall was relieved to not have to speculate about the ensuing dumpster fire.

Thank you for coming to this edition of Creampuff Book Club! If you had any great reads this year, please leave them in the comments, I'm always looking for new books, because I'm a whore.

 

 

Crenellated Creampuff

I ran out of time for blogging today, so here is a photo of my Grandma on a cannon.

Creampuff is the World's Slowest Knitter

I think this might be my worst knitting year to date. I only knit two things. And one of them I don't want to post about yet because I STILL haven't given it to the intended recipient, even though I believe the baby I knit it for is now shaving.

Anyway, here is one thing I knit this year. It's a cowl. And the picture is shitty because the lens on my iPhone was kind of crudded up.

This is the Wolkig cowl in Sundara Yarn and it was super fun to knit. It was VERY easy to memorize, great for TV knitting. The only downside is that it called for fingering (heh heh) weight yarn, so it took FOREVER. It felt like it was, like, one inch long for weeks and then suddenly, I was done!

I didn't know who I was knitting this for when I started - I just wanted to knit it. But when I suddenly noticed, several inches after the fact, that I had somehow dropped, like 10 stitches, I had to make a decision. Rip back untold hours of work to fix it and give it to a friend? Or just cleverly patch the hole and keep it for myself?

I think I've knit two things for myself since I started knitting 13 years ago, so I felt like it was okay to keep the cowl. Also, ripping this pattern back would have been a nightmare. So here's me in my cowl I made for me!

It's not a flattering photo but I'm over 40 now and am out of fucks about my appearance. Although you can really see in this one how my eyebrows have just totally left my face.

Anyway, today I decided it was time to get my knit on again but I knew that if I wanted to actually sustain some knitting activity, I would have to choose a fairly easy pattern with fat yarn. And then I remembered the yarn I mentioned in my LAST post about knitting! Because I still haven't touched it! Well, I'm touching it today, motherfuckers! Wish me luck.

Creampuff Remembrance

A common theme in my grandfather's slide collection is that he's not in any of the pictures.

Out of the hundreds of photos, you'll only see his signature Humphrey Bogart-esque scowl in a handful of  images. Probably my favourites are the ones of him on a balcony in Majorca wearing only a Speedo and you can just tell he's feeling himself and it's awesome. 

For Remembrance Day, though, I thought this shot of him at a WWII memorial in England would be more appropriate. 

Thanks to all of these amazing slides, I'm thinking a lot about my grandpa these days and particularly today, being Remembrance Day.  He died on my birthday 12 years ago at 93. He was not a perfect human but he was a great grandfather to me. He spoiled me when I was a little girl and I was lucky to get to know him a little as an adult. 

My grandfather served in the Royal Canadian Navy during WWII. After the war, he returned to Barrie, Ontario, where he was the city solicitor for almost fifty years. He was very civic minded and he was very artistic. He designed the Barrie's coat of arms. They named a bridge after him this year. So yeah - my grandpa was kind of a big dill.

So today, I'm wearing my annual $20 poppy today in honour of all those who served, and continue to serve - and  I'm thinking about one veteran in particular.

Love you, Grandpa.

Creampuff Missed Yesterday but Today is for Shar Pei

Effie has really seen some shit this year; waaaay back in January, Effie was out for a pre-dawn walk with Drtr. Some dipshit opened her front gate and her off-leash dog ran down the sidewalk, bit a huge hole in Effie's side and then ran back to his owner.

Effie didn't even have time to react and she seemed unfazed - plus, it was dark - so it wasn't until Drtr got home and we saw the dog in the light that the big bleeding rip in her side become evident. I nearly barfed and fainted simultaneously.

I will spare you the gory photos of the dog's open wounds but here is the aftermath a couple of weeks into healing:

Thank fuck for pot brownies.

Fortunately, Drtr had seen where the dog owner lived. So, after we spent all ding dong day at the vet (partly because Effie WOULD NOT succumb to the sedation and spent nearly two hours determinedly lurching around in an exam room after several injections), Krtr and I were able to write an strongly worded letter to the dog owner. We told the owner that  the vet suggested we report the incident to the cops, because the injury was so serious. We also enclosed photos of the Effie's injuries. And the $1000 vet bill.

Furious and spoiling for a fight, we braced ourselves for a response from the dog owner. I spent several hours having angry hypothetical conversations with this woman. What was she THINKING? What is WRONG with her DOG? SHE WOULD PAY THEY WOULD BOTH PAY.

In the end, our righteous anger was diffused by the fact that the dog owner contacted us right away. She apologized profusely for being so careless and said she just hadn't been thinking when she let her dog out. She explained that her dog had become more protective of the house since they had a baby. She agreed, sans fuss, the pay the entire vet bill... and then she DID.

I almost felt bad for calling the police on her. Then I looked at our heavily sedated puppy, with the drainage tube sticking out of her side, and ceased to "almost feel bad". Because my poor sweet little dog was FUCKED UP. 

I've never had dealings with Vancouver Animal Control, except when they refused to control various animals in our neighbourhood because apparently they don't wrangle skunks or crows here.

This dog thing was different. We filled out a report online and within the day, we had a call from Animal Control and an appointment with an Animal Control officer. She came over to interview Drtr and check out Effie's injuries and give her some lovin'. Then she went over to the dog owner's house, interviewed them and issued them a $250 ticket for having their dog off-leash on the sidewalk. Justice was swift and very satisfying. Thanks, City of Vancouver!

We had several more trips to the vet for drainage tube removal and stitches removal and Effie had to wear a raincoat for weeks, rain or shine, while her fur grew back. Good thing she's adorable in pink.

When we told folks Effie had been injured, they assumed she'd gotten into a scrap at the park instead of being attacked on the street for no reason - and that was a fair assumption. Effie a very rough and tumble gal. After almost every visit to the off-leash park, she comes home with some kind of minor injury, either from enthusiastic play or trying to initiate play too enthusiastically and being brutally rebuffed.

Effie never holds a grudge. But I was still nervous that, after several weeks of healing and not having any time off-leash, Effie might be nervous and weird about gambolling about with other canines. I wanted her to be more cautious so that she didn't get bit on the fuckin' face so often but I didn't want her to lose her joie de vivre.

Fortunately, I got exactly what I wanted. Once she was ready to be set loose again, Effie had matured a little bit in the off-leash department and it's been a delight. She's a little more cautious now about approaching other dogs at a sprint; and, if she gets the "no thank you", she's become very good at just moving on, which makes our park visits a lot less stressful for moi.

Good girl.