perfect golden summer

Tonight was a perfect summer night. The air was cool and the setting sun gilded the edges of everything. Clearly, it was a night to head to the water.

Arriving home from work there was a brief discussion about where to go for supper when, in rather close succession we were both struck with a need to go back to Del Rios, our favorite neighborhood spot in White Rock. It was early, and the drive isn't that long. We figured we could be at a table a little after six. I gassed up the Sentra and we hit the open road.

Del Rios is always, always a good idea. I have never had a bad meal there, never been disappointed. It's a family run restaurant on the corner of 16th & 128th, in Ocean Park. If you decide to go, get the baby back ribs with baked tortellini in marinara. Or the souvlaki. Either way you're in for a treat.

After satisfying ourselves with a truly finger-licking good meal, we headed for the ocean. No excuse is good enough to stay indoors on a night like tonight. We found a parking spot and hit the boardwalk. I stared out at the ocean, took my customary deep breath and smiled. Hello to you old friend. It's good to see you too.

It was stunning down by the water By then it was closer to 8 and the sun was in full decline. Everything sparkled. The water and the rocks, the boats at sea and the boats tugging at their lines, the edges of everything, even the people looked like they had been dipped in gold. We walked, much farther than I meant to. Who could deny a view like that?
The sun called the artists out. Down by the pier there was a guy stacking rocks into sculpture. I have no idea how that works. At the base of the pier two classical guitarists sat serenading strangers. It was an evening to pause, to notice and to drink in. There is something truly beautiful about public art. I have always felt that the ocean is its own symphony, dance and painting. Having art created in view of this natural art was delicious.

Tired, full and happy we made our way back to the car. It feels like summer has truly arrived, a perfect, golden summer.

Gandalf returns

Gandalf returns. It sounds like a fourth book for The Lord of the Rings, but it's not. Gandalf returns is simply the happy truth I find myself in today. After nearly two years gone and more than a year and a half since we last laid eyes on each other, tonight we were reunited. This picture may seem rather ordinary, but that's Gandalf sitting in my lap. And for me, after all this time, that makes it extraordinary.


Technically, Gandalf arrived yesterday but she was so traumatized by the long flight and two car rides that I didn't stay long. She was very apprehensive and flighty. I gave her some space to settle in. Tonight I went over to visit. (Gandalf is staying with my good friends Doris & Dave until Mom and Dad arrive to move into their new place.) When I arrived, I headed down into the basement and called out to her. Gandalf instantly appeared.

I wondered if she would remember me but as soon as I picked her up she started rubbing our faces together and I soon realized I had not been forgotten.



We stood there for a while, reacquainting ourselves. I tried to get some pics but have you ever tried to work a camera with an enthusiastic cat in the other hand? I quickly gave up on that and focused on the feline love frenzy instead. I think it's safe to say she was pleased to see me.

I sat down with a book and within moments she was back in my lap as if no time had passed at all. Her fur is still warm silk beneath my fingers and before long I could hear the gentle thunder of her purring. I may have purred a little myself. We sat and I read. Gandalf was never out of my sight, never strayed more than a few inches away. Even when she moved to the arm of the chair, she left a paw resting on my leg. Just in case I got any ideas about leaving.
Eventually I did need to go home and under much protest made my escape. Don't worry little one, I'll be back. In the meantime you're being well taken care of and before you know it the moving truck will have come and gone and we can get you settled back in with Mom and Dad. Welcome home my little Fleeg. I missed you too.

best cities to be single

The US Census has created a list that reveals the best cities in the US for singles of either sex. I'm thinking road trip?I like the comment one other blogger made, "San Francisco: 65,000 more single men that women. It’s possible there’s a little more going on than the census reveals in that stat."

I wonder if there's a Canadian version of this somwhere?

custodial

After almost two years, I get Gandalf back on Thursday. I went into Petsmart today to kit her out and realized all of the things I have carefully closeted away in her absence. I have not, not once, stepped foot in a pet store and the scent of it as soon as I walked in the door was both wonderfully and horribly familiar. As I walked the aisles, it hit me: I get to go back. I get to be one of them again. Smiling, I rolled words around my mouth that I have not uttered, even in a whisper, since she left. Her name, and her pet names. Silly things that used to make me smile. I lifted them carefully from the places where I had stored them. I peeled back the tissue paper of dusty memories and held them in my hands. I said, "hello".

Gandalf won't be living with me -- I still have a landlord who is violently, deathly, allergic to cats. She will continue to live with my parents, but they are moving to Chilliwack next week. And in their benevolence, they have decided to bring her with them. As I was driving home tonight with a trunk full of cat paraphernalia and my first ever guilt purchase -- a fur-lined cat bed -- sitting on the seat beside me I had a moment of insight. What on earth must it be like to be a non-custodial parent?

I remember the day I realized that Gandalf could not come with me. In a fit of melodrama I lay face down on my bed and cried my eyes out. And she is only a cat. True she's my cat, and I do love her, but she is only a cat. She's not a person. Dear God in heaven, what must it be like to put your child on a plane and send them to the other parent? Do they have places they cannot go because it hurts too much? Do they have a whole vocabulary that gets stored away until the blessed day when they are custodial once again? Sending a cat away is only the barest shadow of what it must feel like to live without a child. I said a prayer tonight for all the parents, thousands of them, who have to live in half a world, with half a heart while the beating half of it lives away from them. I wish that no one ever had to know what that feels like.

Custodial is such a wonderful word. And come Thursday I can say two more delicious words, "welcome home".

congratulations Amanda!

This weekend Amanda became a high school graduate. I was so honored to get to be in the room at watch it happen. I was one proud Auntie (and not one of the Moms as the man beside me asked...). There were some great speeches (unusual for a grad) and then a lot of walking across the stage and collecting of diplomas. All in all it was a great celebration. Congratulations Amanda and rest of the class of '09.

It is impossible to speak of graduation without including a quote or two, so here you go:

“The first step towards getting somewhere is to decide that you are not going to stay where you are.” J. Pierpont Morgan

and these lines, from one of my all time favorite poems, Autumn Journal:

Sleep to the sound of running water tomorrow will be cross, however deep.
Tonight we sleep on the banks of the Rubicon.
There will be time to audit the accounts later.
There will be sunshine later
And the equation will come out at last. ~ Louis MacNiece

belated birthday blog

This post is a few days late, but I arrived on the scene almost three weeks late way back when (sorry Mom!) so maybe my lack of timeliness is appropriate. (Maybe it's just habit now?) I had a great birthday. It always catches me a little off guard to learn that I'm a year older. You'd think I would have gotten used to that by now. But I don't mind getting older. I wouldn't trade what I know now to go back to being younger. Ignorance is too high a price to pay for youth.

Because the 27th was a Wednesday I got to work from home on my birthday. It's not quite as good as having the foresight to take the day off, but I make great coffee when I'm at home, and a truly great cup of the good stuff sands off a lot of edges. Right around lunch time I got a very unexpected gift. There is a book I've been looking for, for almost half my life and on May 27th, 2009 I found it. Back in high school, grade 10 or 11, my friend Freya gave me a copy of The Shell Seekers, which is still my all time favorite story. Laced throughout the novel are extended quotes from Louis MacNiece's epic poem, Autumn Journal. I absolutely fell in love with it. There have been times in my life when lines from that poem held me together. (And I know that will make no sense at all for the non-poetry-lovers among you, but trust me. Sometimes when your heart is breaking or the world threatens to tip off its axis the perfect line of poetry becomes the only air you can breathe.)

I have looked for Autumn Journal in every bookstore I have ever stepped foot in. I have hunted it at every garage sale, in every used book store. I have scoured eBay for it, I have run rampant all over the web and I've never been able to find it. Until May 27th. While searching online for another book altogether I came across an online book seller I had not seen before. As always, I did a search for Autumn Journal with no expectations whatsoever. Imagine my surprise when my search turned up one result. There, in a little bookstore in Illinois, was a single copy of Autumn Journal. Needless to say I proceeded directly to PayPal and one day in the next two weeks I will finally hold in my hands the book that has had a hold on me for so many years. When it arrives, I will be taking it to the beach to read. It just seems fitting to take it to the place I go to commune. I'll make the coffee.

After work I headed over to Gord & Shannon's where a feast awaited. There was steak on the grill and twice baked potatoes in the oven, grilled veggies and fresh, cheesy garlic bread. Shannon is an amazing cook and I was very happy birthday girl!

After the feast, there was cake. Cause, really, what's a birthday without cake? Also, I like cake. So that worked out well. Kendra is gifted in the making of cakes and this year's did not disappoint. Vanilla cake, layered with pudding and strawberries and topped with whipped cream and chocolate dipped strawberries? Happy birthday to me.
Fortunately, there were several of us to eat all that yumminess. Coli was happy to get in on the cake action.

Tucked in my birthday present from Amanda was a ribbon that read "Kiss me it's my birthday!"


As you can see, it worked.


I got a chance to talk to my parents (who will be here in person for next year's celebration, I can hardly believe it. Mom -- you and me are going to the Empress for tea!) Later in the day I talked to Dave & Janie. Dave made my day by telling me that all day Corrina had been asking, "When are we going to Auntie Claire's house for her birthday?" (That drip drip driping sound you hear is my heart melting.) Dave told me that Corrina had made me a card and the next day it showed up in the mail. You know it's going to be a spectacular card when it comes with a warning label:


Corrina got some help form her Dad cutting out the pieces but pasted it all together herself. I think it's fantastic and can't wait to Skype her and say so in person. Or close to it.
Inside she drew me a picture which I'm told is a Mommy lion and a baby lion. Her Dad did the interpretation and he would know about these things. He's quite the artist himself. The glitter, as promised, was plentiful. I think I sparkled all night.



And Corrina, this is photo is to show you that the bracelet you made me fit perfectly, thank you! It is ridiculously hard to photograph something on your own wrist, but hopefully this does it justice. I just might have to wear it to work one day this week :)
I think going to Disneyland for my 30th birthday three years back was a truly stellar idea. So far this whole thirties thing has been going well. I wonder what will happen this year?

Oh, and Mom, you asked me to take a birthday picture, so here you go. See you in THREE WEEKS!!!!!!!!

twilight and long stories

UPDATED: For the perfect musical accompaniment for this post, load up "Where the Road Meets the Sun" [link will open in a new window] on YouTube, also available for purchase on iTunes. And yes, this is the song featured in the Grey's Anatomy season finale. Such perfect lyrics "I don't know whether we'll end up together, but I always know that our love is true." As you were...

Shel Silverstein wrote many poems, one of which, aptly named "Invitation" has long been favorite of mine. He writes:

If you are a dreamer, come in,
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,
A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer ...
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some flax-golden tales to spin.
Come in!
Come in!

Doesn't it sound like something magical is just about to happen? Whenever I think of this poem and of stories and campfires in general, I can't help but hope that the tales he is spinning will be long ones.

I love long stories.

I love to read long stories and I have a habit of telling long stories (I'm working on that). There is something truly delicious about stumbling upon a new world that's wrapped up a tale that lets you hang out there for a while. Reading a good book is like dreaming with your eyes open and like a truly great dream, it's wonderful when you don't have to wake up right away. I love an author who lets me linger.

On the recommendation of a fellow book lover, I recently dove into the Twilight saga. Yes, I know it's a vampire love story written for teenagers, I never claimed it was high art. But it is a well written and delicious diversion. And it is a looong story. Like eating a warm brownie when you know should eat broccoli, this isn't stuff you can live on, but it makes for a great weekend. Today I finished book four, and after 2379 pages it's time to say goodbye to Bella and Edward, Carlisle and Esme, Emmet, Rosalie, Jasper and Alice. I feel a little bereft.

There are rumors of a possible book five. Stephanie Meyer was working on a concept piece when it was leaked online and in protest she lay down her pen. The partial manuscript is on her site and I'm still debating if I'll read it or not. It seems unlikely to get picked up again, so if the rough draft is all there is I probably wont be able to resist. I can help wishing that there was more.

I'm not sure what it is about these books that has so captured people's imagination. (They were insanely popular long before Robert Pattinson embodied Edward in the movie version and set a generation of teen girls on fire.) At its core it is Romeo and Juliet -- the classic lovers who cannot be together. But while I get annoyed with Romeo (every time I see that play live I want to scream at him "she's not dead!!" even as I am also secretly hoping that this time it will all work out) Edward and Bella do a pretty decent job of figuring out just what this love will cost them and whether or not that is a price either can afford to allow the other to pay. They are surprising adult in their rationality (I supposed it helps to be over a 100 years old) and at the same time, surprising chaste in their love. Meyer puts some lovely devices in place and does and admirable job of sticking to her own rules even when they inconvenience the plot.

So here I am at the end of another satisfyingly long story. I loved what Meyer did with the story. I suppose if I get really lonely for the raining world of Forks, Washington I can always go back to the beginning and read it again. Committing to a long story is a bit like falling in love, you know going in that there's a decent chance you'll get your heart broken. The trick is in discerning when it's going to be worth it.

G.K. Chesterton wrote, "Fairy tales don't tell kids that dragons exist, they already know that. Fairy tales tell kids that dragons can be killed." Sometimes grown-ups need to be reminded of that too.