Lines, lines, lines, lines.
A day of them.
***
Outside it rains. Does it ever rain inside you may ask. No. But it’s my ear whose talking to you.
My ear is no happier than the lungs with the swimming arrangement.
I have switched the class to Monday, given I slept through Thursday.
Wait now til we see will this satisfy the pair of them.
I walked into a v interesting pile of books today, and welcomed them, with a great deal of assistance from my son, who helped me carry them to our home. Some will journey on and be hopefully traded in for copies of Betty Lambert’s Crossings for readers at our December VPL event. Don at McClouds Bookshop downtown was superbly helpful in sourcing the copies I have so far.
Amongst the “resting chez nous” stack were some local classics!
An Account to Settle: The Story of the United Bank Workers (SORWUC) (Press Gang)
Common Ground Stories by Women (Press Gang)
Some kind of government publication called Sound Heritage Vol VIII this one is called Opening Doors Vancouver’s East End.
And my favourite of the scoop:
Forever Deceiving You: The Politics of Vancouver Development. (Published in 72 by the Vancouver Urban Research Group)
Slightly further geographically afield from the viaduct I was delighted to scoop Jean Baudrillard’s For a Critique of the Political Economy of the Sign — a book only last week I was reading a few pages of upon google book preview. I can’t recall why I was reading it, perhaps in relation to a film, that’s my recollection, but I made a note to obtain a copy. Lo the pavement, how she does provide!
57c
More impressive news from the Post Office. During a late evening run to get a few stamps I noted they are undertaking a campaign to raise funds for mental health charities.
The goal in our local Post Office is to raise $450.00 and they encourage a twoonie (toonie?) donation. Great to see Canada Post taking a lead on this — have no idea if this is an annual campaign — but much needed services/charities/non profits in the city are being supported.
In case you are wondering and I often am since I can never recall the price of postage it is 57 cents to post an average letter nationwide. But HST on a few stamps ends up being almost half the price of another stamp.
Obviously on a roll with profundity this night so time to reflect on Biffo’s hangover, brought to my attention in an email today from a dear friend. The keyboards will be pounding over at Nob Nation. Perhaps they’ll just dig up the scripts from the past year and rerun them! No edit or new material needed. Dear Diary indeed. Sponsored by Nurofen.
Winter is here, I can already feeling myself craving nerdy cardigans. Odd since the sun was bouncing off the pavement today. I have an autistic relationship to clothing. I only want to wear the same items. My partner observed this recently when stowing my laundry — stowing not folding. Folding is not a task I’d entrust to anyone. I find folding laundry very pleasing. I just have no desire to do anything beyond folding it into a stack. Hence his generous intervention.
“Oh my God,” he exclaims. “I just couldn’t believe it there were like twenty identical shirts, twenty cardigans and so on.” He exaggerates there is maybe 7 of each. I like doing laundry too much to ever require twenty of anything. Except books, shelves, raisins and easy anchors.
I had to remind him that the impressive items of clothing I own have been purchased for me by him and his mother.
There is a particular black cardigan, longer with grandad pockets that may be joining my x7 fashion line up. I have 2, both donations, but with the wintery feelings may have to embrace a third.