Come Hell or High Water

Someone told me long ago: There's a calm before the storm
I know
and it's been comin' for sometime.
When it's over
so they say
it'll rain a sunny day
--CCR Have you Ever Seen the Rain

Mother Nature is having her way with my house. On Wednesday I went down to the basement and discovered a dead bumble bee in the middle of the floor being masticated by red ants. The bee was dead so the hows and whys of it are of no matter now. The ants however, are a problem, although not as much of a problem as the large puddle I came home to on Saturday night.

From the CBC.ca website

Homeowners, public works crews and emergency responders in southern Manitoba are beginning a major cleanup after severe thunderstorms pounded the region over the weekend.


Environment Canada said 53 millimetres of rain fell on Winnipeg on Saturday and several major streets remain closed because of flooding.

The towns of Portage la Prairie and Emerson each recorded record amounts of rainfall, a spokesperson for the weather agency said. Emerson has declared a state of emergency because of the damage done to property in the community.

Read more

My friend George noted on his Facebook status that he felt "feels 10 years younger...because for the first time in 10 years, he has to bail out his fricking basement". Me, I felt 10 years older for being a homeowner who had returned to find that her house needed a diaper. I got to work with my mop, pushing the water into the storm drain. I spent an hour on the clean up getting it mostly dry before deciding I could go to bed at midnight.

I had a lousy sleep full of weird dreams.  At four I was awake and could hear the rain again. I decided to check downstairs. The puddle was back. Feeling helpless, I went back to bed and waited until it was a decent hour to phone my dad.
Springtime in Winnipeg didn't used to mean monsoon season. Winnipeg has suffered some depressing and wet summers the past two years but I think we thought we were getting back to the sunny side of things this year. Climate change. Yes, I'm a believer. I've been here long enough to know that this isn't the weather I grew up with. This is something different. Is it the product of the human lifestyle or just a cycle in nature, I don't know, but I have to wonder if I'm seeing the beginnings of a new Atlantis.

My dad came over in the morning with his ShopVac and sucked up the water. He got about 15 gallons of water and it continued to seep in. The ground is just so saturated and the sewers so full that the water has nowhere to go but old basements. Fortunately my basement is just a storage space for me although I did have a lot of books in cardboard boxes that will need to be aired out.

Dad burnt out the ShopVac. The sun and blue sky are back out now although the forecast is calling for more precipitation tonight and tomorrow. Good thing I have that canoe.

liberating art

I went sketching with Nigel tonight. They do long poses on Thursday nights and neither of us had done the long pose class before. I picked him up just after six. The weather this week has been phenomenal. I try to take in as many minutes in the sun as I can manage so I don't really mind that I have to park three blocks away from his apartment. The lilacs are in bloom right now and I could get drunk off of the sweet scent.

We get to the studio and sit in the same spots as last time. The model isn't the same. She has reddish-brown curly hair and is larger than the girl we had last time. She has an intricate tattoo covering most of her back. I think it was roses. I find her less interesting as a subject. I'm not sure why. I thought she would have more curves than the skinny girl and I love drawing the curves but I struggle to find them. Her breasts are large, lots of curves there, but the angle I see her at doesn't present them so well. She is laying on her back, looking up, as if she is resting under a tree. No bum. The leg closest to me is bent and I like how she has arched her foot. I start with her big toe and outline up to the top of her head.

Nigel focuses on drawing her head and face. He listens to his iPod while he works because he doesn't like the music they play in the studio. It's some kind of jazz stuff tonight. I don't really mind it. I sometimes find listening to my own music distracting from the task at hand.

I find myself searching for interesting shadows and lines but with little luck. She has milk-white skin that seems to reflect all the light. It baffles me. She should have curves but everything looks flat to me.

After the first break I decide to try a new spot to draw from. I see her more head on, a little to the left. I put my own headphones on and get to work. I keep trying different things to capture the roundness of her breasts so they don't just look like two eggs in a frying pan. I also discover a subtle shadow on her leg, a bit of a curve on the outside of her thigh. I didn't think it then but I wonder now if she is bothered by the shape of her thighs. She shouldn't be. At least not in the studio she shouldn't. I take some peeks at the work of the guy to my left. He's using conte. I try to mimic the shadows he's shaded in but I can't quite make them work in my drawing.

Briefly, I find myself wondering what she is thinking about. Sometimes her eyes are open, sometimes she closes them. Is she making a grocery list? Is she reflecting on her day? Doing homework? Missing someone? Sometimes I think she is looking at me and I wonder if she has noticed I am the only woman in the studio tonight. Does she notice the artists or does she shut us out completely? Sometimes she has to stretch her leg out or flex her hand. I notice her breathing deepening for a moment. Did she suddenly remember that she is naked in a room full of strangers?

Around nine, during a break, we decide to pack it up and head home. As I am putting away my easel I see Nigel talking to the model. He shows her the sketch of her face and she likes it. She also notices his new tattoos on the inside of his forearms. He explains that they are the apples from Apple Records,

"the Beatles' record label," he says.

"Yeah," she nods, seeming to be familiar with the reference. I'm impressed.

As I'm driving Nigel home he tells me thank you.

"I was feeling really stressed out this week, in fact, I almost didn't want to come tonight but I'm glad I did," he says. "It was relaxing."

I know exactly what he means. When I leave sketching (and it is extremely hard for me to leave) I feel refreshed. It's like a storm has just passed through and now everything is re-hydrated and cooled down.

"You get in there and you just go to work and you focus on the task at hand. You don't think about the outside world at all," Nigel says.

"It's like yoga," I say. Actually, it's like what I imagine yoga is supposed to leave you feeling like. I always enjoy the stretch I get from yoga and the time I get to practice strength and balance, but I don't think I ever leave the yoga studio feeling like I've ridden myself of all my cares and worries. In yoga you are supposed to empty your mind to allow time for yourself. Go ahead, try to empty your mind right now and just breathe. How long does your mind stay empty for? I never last very long. I end up forgetting to breathe or find thoughts pouring in while I frantically try to stop them or shoo them away. Because you are actually supposed to focus on your breath I often end up counting my breathes or keeping track of when I inhale and when I exhale. I try to picture my head just empty, but I can hear my inner voice instructing me to do all this, which I don't think is really allowed either. When I sketch I am focused on the picture I am creating. I don't think about work or money or food or boys. My mind mostly goes blank. The most amazing part is that even the inner critic checks out. I absolutely don't care if what I draw is a masterpiece or not. I'm just there to try, and I completely accept that I'm learning and slowly getting better. Sketching is a complete break from myself. It amazes me what I can do when I am able to just let go. Maybe that's what it feels like to be a nude model.

The happiness factor

Today was a 10 I thought to myself last night before relaxing into sleep. I had spent the majority of my work day on a project I felt passionate about. I ate a good, healthy lunch outside in the sunshine with good company. I wore a cute new outfit that I assembled out of mostly old pieces from my spring closet. I spent the evening downtown with good friends for drinks on a rooftop patio. I sashayed down the sidewalk with glow and bounce and joy because that day had all the ingredients for my recipe for happiness. Happiness, I decided, is simply spending your day doing more things that you love than not. Is that really so hard to achieve?

Some days, yeah, happiness takes some hard accounting work. Today was one of them.

• Waking up groggy, perhaps from a slightly abbreviated sleep the night before when I was all caught up in the magic of a beautiful Winnipeg night: -2
• Presenting project that I was proud of and got some kudos: +3
• Being invited to partake in free catered lunch:+3
• Enduring longish afternoon with a full tummy: -2
• Reading funny email from Amara: +4
• Taking phone call from sister: +4
• Taking phone call from sister where she reported on the fabulous time she had shopping and dining last week in Vancouver/Whistler with her boyfriend -2
• Sitting with uncomfortable nagging feeling for being envious of younger sister who has it all: -1
• Walking home in the warm sunshine:+3
• Walking home in the warm sunshine wearing black pants: -1
• Arriving home: +6
• Receiving mail from Starbucks Visa who bequeathed me with $60 in Starbucks funds (+4!) because the card is now defunct: -1
• Arriving home to dishes, recycling, laundry, general disarray that I've been neglecting for a week: -4
• Going to feed Bill, my goldfish, only to find him dead at the bottom of the tank: -8
• Discovering that Visa bill this month is at an astronomical (but still payable) level: -4
• Rediscovering the taste and enjoyment of toasted cinnamon raisin bread for dinner: +2
• Opening of every window in the house and letting in of moving air: +5
• Visit from Dad who sympathizes with my Visa bill grumblings and loss of pet goldfish: +4
• Cleaning of kitchen: +8
• Washing of two loads of clothes followed by drying them on the line outside and getting them put away: +4
• Clean sheets on bed: +4
• Time at the end of the night to sit in clean sheeted bed to reflect, breathe, listen to favourite tunes and sip water: +8

=37
Hm. Guess it turned out to be a better day than I thought.

I miss you Little Bill. I'm sorry.

I'm not done yet

My day started off with waking up to sunshine and birds chirping at eight am. I felt rested and excited to get my day started. I showered, sun-screened and headed out to meet Amara at Starbucks for a walk with her and Baby B. After Amara finished feeding B a snack we headed toward the park.

Normally Baby B falls asleep soon after we get going but today he was wide awake and squirmy. He'd hold his hand up for me to give him a high five and get excited when an airplane would pass overhead. About half-way through our walk he got fussy. I think he wished he was out toddling around instead of being buckled into his little red stroller.

"See, it's not all rainbows and lollipops," Amara said to point out that her son was not the perfect child.

Amara and Christian taught B some baby sign language when he was months old. I knew the sign for "milk" but when he started waving both hands back and forth between sobs I asked Amara what Baby B was signing.

"I'm finished," she replied.

I laughed. Baby B is 15 months old and already he's ironic. Mark my words, that is a special and gifted kid.

After the walk I headed home to bake. Lisa is going to Africa in August to volunteer at a music camp for kids and is having a benefit concert on Sunday night. She asked if I would mind baking something they could serve during the break. Lisa recently started seeing a naturopathic doctor who has her on a strict diet of no eggs and limited dairy. When she first started the new regime Lisa was sad to have to give up baked goods because most of them contain egg so I found a chocolate cake recipe that contained no eggs or milk and baked it for her one night when I had her over for dinner. It turned out well so I decided I would make another one for her concert this weekend so that while surrounded by plates and plates of cookies and sweets that she couldn't eat, at least there would be one thing she knew she could.

The cake is super simple to make and only takes 30 minutes to bake. I decided to do it in a Bundt pan so that it would slice up nicely for a platter. When the cake was done I inverted it onto a plate. About 30 minutes later I lifted the pan up slightly to see if the cake had come away from it yet. Indeed it had, so I pulled the pan away completely and then promptly frowned. I had put the cake upside down too soon while it was still warm and so it broke when it fell from the inside of the pan to the plate. It was unsalvageable.

Abandoning the cake and realizing my spare afternoon time was running out I found a coconut shortbread recipe to make for a second attempt. The recipe had only four ingredients--butter, flour, icing sugar and coconut so it would still be safe for Lisa to eat.

Just as I was starting to get the ingredients out my mom came over. I showed her my cake disaster and told her of my plan B. I went to pull the flour out and held my tongue from swearing in front of my mother when the container tipped over and dumped about half a cup of its contents in my corner cupboard. Outside it was a hot sunny afternoon. Inside I was a hot cranky mess who would much rather be outside gettin' sweaty with it. I was ready to throw my hands up in the air and wave them like Baby B. I'm finished indeed.

"Come back to my house," my mom said after I vacuumed out my cupboard and replaced its contents. "I have a no-bake lemon squares recipe." Last year for mother's day I gave my mom a card that said, "To the woman who taught me that when life gives you lemons you make lemon drop martinis." My mom is very good with me and my lemons.

Lisa and I had made plans to do some people watching on the sidewalk of the Osborne Village Starbucks. It is one of our favourite summer things to do. We both ordered tall icy drinks and scored a free table with a view. I saw more hot girls pass by than guys though so the people-watching was a bust. Under the clear blue sky we talked of boys, dream jobs and babies and then we headed back to her place.

She had Tivo'd this week's season finale of The Vampire Diaries and asked if I wanted to watch it. I had watched it twice on Thursday night and again on Friday night. I had memorized lines and burned to my mind every smoldering, brooding and flirty look Ian Somerhalder/Damon displayed. Yes. Yes I did want to watch the episode again and no I am not going to justify my reasons for you here.

After VD Lisa flipped through the channels and found Sex and the City on Cosmo. It was an episode I hadn't seen in a very long time and hardly remembered. Carrie and Big get into couple mode and Miranda meets Steve and ends up kissing him in the rain.

"I should send you this wedding announcement I read in the New York Times this week," I said. This is another thing I've recently discovered I love--nytimes.com. Mostly I read the technology, science, health and nutrition pages, a bit of the business section too, and oh yeah, the Vows pages. The story I wanted to share was about a woman who wrote a book called Happily Ever After Divorce. She fell in love, got married, got divorced, fell in love with being single but then at 56 found love again.

"She was unattached when she attended a business networking meeting in February 2006 run by Mr. Cooper’s younger brother, Isaiah Cooper, a lawyer, who asked the participants what they hoped to get out of the meeting. Ms. Bram, who had just told someone she wanted romance back in her life, stood up and blurted: “Well, to be honest I’d like to start dating. So if anybody knows anyone... ”"

--Vows, Jessica Bram and Robert Cooper

(Does that not totally sound like something I would do? Wait a minute, I think I did once. Lemme get back to you on that.)

To try to keep myself grounded I try very hard not to believe in fairy tales--Hot, brooding boys who are actually full of heart and the dashing, hard to pin down but worth the wait Mr. Big are fantasy characters in TV shows not to be found in reality. But how many years has the NYT been publishing these lovely love stories? It's the New York freakin' Times--that's a credible news source! These sweet and wonderful things do really happen.

"This Happily Ever After began in the spring of 2005 at the rock club Sin-é, a now-shuttered spot on St. Marks Place, where Ms. Auster was tending bar. She was transfixed when Mr. Jaramillo took the stage alongside a custom-made contraption created from microphone tripods and multiple rows of guitar pedals. Since graduating with a drama degree from Juilliard, she had focused on music but had never seen such a device.

“Oh my God, he is a genius,” she remembered thinking. She noticed something else, too: “He had great guitar biceps.”"

 --Vows, Katarina Auster and Wilson Jaramillo

My sister ended up with a heart-breaker-turned Prince Charming like Big. Nigel will one day marry his junior high crush who he randomly bumped into on Portage Avenue three years ago and has been with ever since. And me? I don't know if my prince will be dark and brooding but I will get my New York Times-worthy romance. I mean, you know me, it's gonna be blog-worthy.

But until then, Prince C looks like this:

This isn't a post about a date

Some quick updates for those of you who are thinking I'm still recovering from Wine Fest 2010. I did completely abstain from alcohol for a week after that. I'm back on the wagon again, or off of it depending on the wagon you're riding. The following day I went to a barbecue birthday party where I was one of three people who didn't bring a small child. Everyone was carrying one around like it was a Coach handbag (something else I don't own, I am so behind). But I was with Amara and Christian who brought their toddler so I stuck close to him. He's my favourite little kid. Now I really can't have children because the stork already delivered the best one to Amara and Christian. Boo. The bbq had an interesting surprise though when one of the guests announced she had brought with her a bag of sample shoes and all the ladies in the house were welcome to try on and take home whatever they liked. I scored a pair of black peek-a-boo toe heels. The stork delivered a set of twins!

Last week it was May 5 (05/05) my second most favourite and lucky feeling day of the year (my b-day being the first) so I was hoping the universe would deliver. On Wednesday I got my income tax refund in the mail, on Thursday I went to an after hours VIP Customer Super Sale at the Artists Emporium, flirted with the boys at the drinks table (yes, this event had a cash bar) and then on Friday I got a call to inform me that I'd won a door prize. Sweet! More naked lady drawings in the near future!

My Saturday started with attending a funeral for Bill Clement, the city counselor for Charleswood/Tuxedo. My family is friends with the Clement family--they live behind my parents' house and my sister and I grew up with Bill's sister's girls. For the last few civic elections I was helping out with Bill's campaign. My role wasn't major. I delivered leaflets to voters and worked in the campaign office making up voter lists and sign request lists. This is the kind of politics I could get passionate about though. Bill Clement was dedicated, down-to-earth and a man of great integrity. He got things done and done well. I have a lot of respect and admiration for him. He was going to run again in the fall election until cancer took him out of the race. It's going to feel strange not to be working on the campaign this year. There is an entire team of us very much feeling the loss of their leader.

Sunday was Mother's Day and my mom and I were scheduled to go to our last symphony performance of the season. I had bought season tickets for my mom last year and really enjoyed our monthly mother-daughter dates. I knew the symphony wasn't something she'd go to on her own and it wasn't something my dad would take her to so I was happy to share that experience with her. For the final show they did a tribute to the Beatles complete with fab four singers. I'm not a fan of the Beatles and I did listen to them a fair bit as a kid. The symphony opened up with a medley of their hits, which I enjoyed, so I think it was mostly their singing that just turned me off. That and so many of their hits sound so sad.

I try to check out the New York Times online daily. I like their science, health and food sections a lot and the wedding announcements are always a fun read. Today I clicked on the link to their Lens photography blog where they had just posted the results of their latest challenge to readers: A Moment in Time. Readers were asked to submit photos taken on May 2, 2010 at 15:00 UTC. I checked to see if anyone from Winnipeg had submitted a photo. Indeed, there were a couple. How happy was I to see that my dear photog friend Doug, or Delores as I affectionately call him here on the blog, had a pic posted.

I've started a new writing project. I'm doing it the old fashioned way with pen and paper right now. The words seem to come out easier that way. I'm trying to write everyday and would like to have the thing finished by June 5. I'm not going to go for a word count goal this time, I just want to get the story down first and will add more to it after. It's a sad story. I'm gonna try to make you cry. The story just came to me one day as I was getting ready to leave work. A dialogue between the main character and her mom came into my head. That's what being a writer is like for me. I feel like I'm a radio that picks up on energy waves or brain waves I guess, and then I get to transmit them. Remember before I got all caught up in my eHarmony adventures I was working on a novel. My eH subscription is almost up so I think it's time I got back at it.

That was fun, I think.

When I was in journalism class sometimes we'd have to cover an event and then turn in the assigned story by midnight the same evening. I remember part of the challenge of the assignment was finding the story because things like three-hour school board meetings aren't always terribly interesting. I am challenged today to report on the story of the events of last night. Not because nothing really happened, but because I'm a bit fuzzy on the details. Yes, the wine show was in town again. It was my third year of attending and apparently I still don't know how to do it properly.

I went out for pizza at lunch with a friend from work who was also going to the show. She suggested we load up on the carbs in preparation for the night of boozing. I had two pieces of pizza with lots of crust. I felt crazy full for the rest of the day. When I got home I was not hungry. I went to my mom's and dad's to get ready for the night and still was not hungry. Not that I really left myself any time for eating anyway. So my mom dropped me off at Amara and Christian's place with nothing but a fresh baked cookie in my tummy. You can clearly see where this is going.

"Mandatory coat check! Ladies and gentlemen, please head to the coat check room over this way before going in," a volunteer woman instructed us as we waited in line to get in. I had scored a cute new blue dress for the ocassion. It was a bit rainy/drizzly out but I just wore a large black cardigan because I don't have a trench (totally on my must-buy list). I checked out the other girls in line and saw a lot of jeans. I mentioned this to Amara but she told me not to worry, the fashions would show up soon and then I'd be glad I dressed the part. I followed my group to the coat check room and chose to ignore the lady when she said, "Ma'am, s'cuse me ma'am in the black sweater, you don't need to check that. It's okay, it's very cold up there. Ma'am?"

The coat check was free and um, hello, she clearly did not understand that this dress was not meant to be covered up. I handed my sweater over to the person on the other side of the coat check table.

"Are you here for the wine show?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Christ people, when did fashion become the crime?

I looked around the room when we got in and was satisfied to see that there were some people who embraced the opportunity to bare some leg, some arm, some chest. We've been enjoying some great temps and an early spring in Winnipeg this year, I thought for sure everyone would be excited to pull their spring frocks out of storage. Sadly, there was a lot of black. Last year the colour was purple but I think I was in black.

Right at the entrance there were a number of ice wines and champagnes/sparking wines. I'd say this is where my troubles began. From there, I just remember looking at the time on my cell phone and realizing that after only about an hour I was corked.

Amara had snuck in some packets of old white cheddar so she gave me two. Her dear friend Gwen offered me a granola bar from her purse and instructed me to make sandwiches with the cheese and the free slices of french bread. It was no use. My entire head tingled. I felt like I had just come from the dentist. They organize the wines alphabetically; Rosemount was my last drink.



We walked to the E&C for a post-sloshing meal. Christian ordered beer. I can't remember if everyone else did too, but when the waitress got to me I said, "Can I have some tea?" and she nodded at me sympathetically.

We ordered standard pub fair--nachos, fish and chips and wings. I noshed and started to feel better. Chad, Gwen's husband said to me, "you're way better this year than you were your first year, Jill." I don't know about that. There is a bit less of me now than there was two years ago. I think I ate some cheese and crackers for dinner that year and it was enough to keep me going through the whole show.  When I got home I thought to myself, I think next year I want to go and not even really drink (not that I want to think about drinking at all in the near future right now). I just like the part where I get to dress up and go out with my friends.