Yup, I'm mushy goo....

Wow. One weekend, two unity candle ceremonies, four weddings, one presentation of a bride and groom that involved them expressing their joy through the medium of performance dance. Just when I think I'd seen almost everything, its a certainty that I haven't. And then there's so much more.
First wedding was brilliant. The grooms had sent out fifty invites expecting ten people might follow them from the US to party in the great white north. Over half of their invitees spent time and money in traveling from as far away as Texas to celebrate. It was an overwhelmingly beautiful ceremony, with music and offerings of words by friends. Next wedding were friends of girls I'd married in June, with family and the June brides in attendance. When I asked for support from the crowd, everyone responded enthusiastically, it was fabulous. I stayed and helped tidy a bit and was given a large bag of cheese by the caterer, and we laughed over her plan to put "I'm straight and I cook" on business cards in order to meet someone. She's got great character and looks like a Waterhouse painting so I'm keeping my eye out for her. I had to go back to the first wedding to give them their ceremony copy, and by the time I got home in my stupid damn dress shoes I could hardly walk.
Second day began well with my lovelies scholar test. He answered about 45 minutes of questions and then fought seven guys in succession to pass, and when they gave him his commemorative dagger and commended him on his great heart I, sitting up on the balcony with no less than seven friends who'd come out specifically to show support, well I actually misted up. The fights were shot with a motion camera and should be up on the web soon, I'll post the link when they are. Drinking and pub food followed, followed by the third wedding of the day back and the same place as the second wedding the day before. Thankfully staggering distance from the pub. For whatever reason, the start time was delayed by chit chat and questioning (responded to good naturedly by the hosts) for about 45 minutes, so that I was rushed afterward to get to my next wedding. I was officially 28 min late from the time I said I'd been there, but the bride was late as well so it all worked out. She was adorable in a shorter wedding dress with hot pink crinolin underneath, and this is where the performance dance came in after. It had been extremely important to reflect the couples desires in the ceremony, and I'd done my level best but in some ways was still anxious, until I overheard the groom say after to an effusive guest "I know, she only met with us for a half hour, and it was perfect". Utterly content, I went home where Ross was still carrying his dagger around the house. He slept near it. He placed it near his mixing board. It left his side only today when he went to work because...well, work. He's so bloody happy and I'm pretty bloody proud. And we had excellent Chinese take away with excellent friends on Monday, with much wine drunk and emotions expressed. And the mastering is done on the latest Timothy Harper CD, which is head and shoulders above the last. I came home last night watching as they compared the sound quality to other CDs. Yesterday I found a homeless woman who'd got some beads and wire together and was making angels to sell, admired the initiative, and bought one. I turned it over in my hands as I listened to the music and then gave it to Timothy for is fabulous wife.
And today is our anniversary, Ross and I. Nine years ago I woke up, knowing the day was going to be great. Legally married in a coffee shop, ceremonially married (story involves not calling the minister in time) with 150 close friends and relations followed by a potluck feast. In between? I hit a yardsale with my mum, got a very nice tea pot. Truly great day. Others since have been better and also far, far, worse. It's been challenging, brutal, uplifting, hilarious and very strange. I look forward to at least the next two nines, hopefully four. I think we're going out for dinner tonight.
Overall feeling: 12 kinds of blessed.

Weekend o Love

4 weddings this weekend, two each day, each an hour a part in different parts of the city. The boys first and then the girls on Saturday, followed by some boys up from Chicago and then a boy and girl Sunday evening. In the middle, my honey boy is having his Scholar test with AEMMA, and win lose or draw I'm proud as anything of him. And we're celebrating our 9th anniversary on Wednesday next week, which is pretty darn cool too, but after 4 weddings and a pile of pride this weekend I am going to be a gooey mush by then.

Fabooolicious

Is there a better sound than silence? Yup, many sounds. Cat purr, cello, waves, wind, bell, guitar, voice singing praise well, laughter when you get the joke, thunderous harp, happy sigh. Is there a better sound than the silence that replaces the drip to trickle to stream of leaking plumbing? No, my friends, there is not. New friends plumber and wife were here for several hours yesterday fixing a very stressful drip - was not aware how much it vexed me until it stopped. Joy, fabulicious joy.
Wedding tonight at Cawthra Square, need to rid myself of the sore throat before then. Two gents up from the states to celebrate a human love that's endured and grown strong in almost 30 yrs together by embracing legal sanction. The thought of a country as powerful as the US turn on it's own citizens, enact laws against them, separate, exclude...it's sickening. It's like a different kind of drip drip trickle stream of hate straining to burst corroded and out dated thinking. If only there where a kind of plumber for THAT.
Can't do nothing about that though. Can only give the boys my best, and so that's what I'll do. I'm so freaking blessed to be able to help this way, to help the love a long. S'the only way to dispell darkness, by helping the dawn along.

Exciting times

So. Week two of a two week CD project for Ross, very busy, very fabulous music. Week two of my cold. Second day from signing my contract for a story being published in an anthology in February. One hour from signing Pete's Canandian Passport paperwork. 30 min from realizing that the pink child's hat I was trying to crochet for a Salvation Army drive actually looks like a penis, and if I hand it in with the scarf I will likely end up on a list. So now I'm looking for a non-penis hat pattern. And smiling because my friend Pete is a Canadian. And freaking out because I'm going to be a published author one day after my birthday. And listening as the penny whistle track is set in to the music recorded above me. But most immediately, it's the hat thing.
Not thinking about the impending plumbing disaster that is the leaking pipes under the bathroom. Really, not giving it any thought at all.

Serenity

AWESOME MOVIE. I'm a devoted fan of the Firefly series, but I think even if I hadn't been the story was structured in such a way that I would have been well caught up on the important elements. I laughed, cried, actually grabbed my husbands arm like a freaking girl. No spoilers here but a clarification: I've heard some reviewers complain that the Reavers (arm clutching moment) costumes were not that elaborate. I don't think they're meant to be since it's not an alien race, just a bunch of cannibalistic homicidal people. Best thing I've liked about it in retrospect - the actors were actors from small screen and small parts, this was not a celebrity vehicle. I didn't feel I was watching a brochure for botox. They aren't all physically perfect in whatever sense is currently fashionable. They were really solid actors, in character, telling an interesting story. An actual movie. Not something you see a lot of these days.
Go see it. Twice.

Plague Monkey

That's me. Jesus Harold Christ this cold feels like it's going on forever...just got over one that was a standard 3 days, all healthy again, enjoying life. Then it feels like the appropriate horseman has come over and said 'hey baby, how's it going? good? can't have that. sit down, sister.' or such like. And I'm cooking a thanksgiving dinner tonight for Ross, Kelly and Terry. Might just cook the turkey and arrange uncooked veggies around it for my lovelies to gnaw on. I've had one and a half sick days this week, and canceled volunteer hours. Still have trouble breathing and have a volunteer shift tomorrow night. Gah.
On the plus side: I'm knitting a scarf with more than one type of stitch, which feels all styling. Cat is now on 6 units of insulin a day and finally has taken an interest in regular food. Not as much as she liked, but at least it's the kibble. Still random peeing but less. She needs a bath, although time comes she might have enough fight to make it interesting. Her fur is becoming more soft and princess like again, less god where did you find that mangy and diseased stray. Hopefully soon she'll be less boney.

Night of the Squirrel

Friday night we got a visit from Foamy. Checking out a crash in in the bedroom, I noticed that quite a few things were knocked over and there was a hole in the ceiling. Then a blur of fur to my left caught my eye, and I did the girl thing and screamed, backed out of the room and shut the door. I couldn't tell what it was - raccoon, very big rat - and so stood trying to puzzle out what to do. Go back inside? Get a blanket to throw over it? Get a box? Just call someone? All this while, fabulous husband was yelling downstairs to a) see if I was alright and b) find out what was going on. Took me a minute or two to answer. "I don't know. There's something in our room." "What's in our room." "Just said I don't know. There's fur involved."He advised calling animal control.
I was down stairs trying to get in touch with animal control - which conveniently keeps normal business hours - when friend Kelly arrived. "We have an intruder" quote the husband gravely, and from the crashing noises upstairs it really could have been anything or anyone. I finally called AAA Wildlife control who's done work for us in the past with raccoons in the walls. Their emergency service, however, is really expensive and without guarantee. As I repeated after the woman "$225 to have the tech come out??" fabulous husband drew a sword and headed upstairs. "I think we're dealing with it ourselves" I said. Kelly blanched and said "I'm getting port" and ran out.
I couldn't take it. Mice - okay, I've killed mice. But a raccoon? Some part of my mind registered it as a houseguest, and I ran and got a cat carrier and a towel, actually believing this would be helpful. I stood outside the bedroom door and was informed it was a fucking squirrel. Fast, agile squirrel. No way were we catching it. It sounded like it was running along the walls, which, apparently, it was and occasionally the door would rattle as though an exorcism was going on on the other side. I suggested that perhaps if we opened the window, it would just leave. Fair enough, any creature would want to get away from the very large man with sword, right? Large sigh on the other side of the door, clatter of sword being put down and eventual sounds of window opening. We don't have good windows and this took some doing, but sure enough the little thing leapt over the whole room and right out of the window.
I opened the door to survey the damage. Everything which had been up was now down. Everything that had been down was on it's side - like a bizzarro universe version of how it had been left. The hole is now plugged and hopefully the squirrel had a bad enough time that our house will become a folk legend in their community, a story to frighten little squirrels into eating their nuts...