Let the Sun Shine In

 I'm going to have to blog about nothing in particular, because whenever I finish the book review posts I feel a moderate sense of accomplishment, followed quickly by a feeling of lostness and lack of direction. I open my blog and then open a Goodreads tab, and then feel a pang when I don't need the Goodreads tab. Copy pasting all the titles and covers and plotlines is such a nice way to start structuring a post. Now it's just the vertiginous empty blankness. 

Oh, wait, I can answer some comments. 

Tudor: What the heck? Why does living in a neighbourhood where there's always a gummy on the sidewalk sound both magical and terrible? Is it giants fishing for babies? Lucy is food motivated (just walk in the house carrying french fries and you'll see that), but she's usually very good about not getting into things that are closed or not for her, unlike some of our friends' dogs (Christmas presents. Whole loaves of breads. Entire chicken wings. Oy.) but I guess the Devil's Lettuce is just too tempting. 

Suzanne: My multiple shovel sessions/ SUV tactic did NOT work last week on the snowpocalypse day. I went out and shoveled a few times, and could barely get the walkway clear and my back was done. I ordered a one-time plow and, once I got over my guilt at not being a Strong and Independent Woman (TM), felt massively relieved. Even with that, the undone areas the next morning were up to my knees - we got 27 cm, almost a foot. I almost got stuck several times getting down my street and up my parents' street to drop off Lucy, so I don't know how anyone without snow tires or a higher vehicle managed. 

Engie: OF COURSE I am interested in your thoughts. Agree entirely about Olivia in The Last House on Needless Street, and am excited to meet a fellow reader who reads scary-ish books because I don't think I have any scary book friends. I have not given up on The Glass Hotel, sometimes I just have to take a few runs at a book. And that is really cool to hear about Anthony Doerr, I've always liked him in interviews. What an amazing writer.

I've mentioned a few times how I am not the Life of the Party in January. I am barely a life and nothing close to a party, in fact. I keep saying January, but the sad truth is that February sneaks up on me and I frequently realize I still don't really feel like doing much, but Eve's birthday is the 7th so I usually have to throw something into gear. This year she's away at school but Matt is fortuitously headed down to do a Physics talk at McMaster (her university) tomorrow, so I can send down a cake and stuff with him. 

In addition to this, Davis, one of Eve's Awesome Squad, was in her university production of Hair as one of the female leads, so of course all the Sad Moms (they used to call us the Wine Moms, then all our dumb kids left us in the ridiculous pursuit of higher education, so now we're the Sad Moms) plus Jackson who goes to school in Ottawa were going to go represent the aforementioned dumb far-away kids....

...on Montreal's COLDEST NIGHT IN TWO DECADES.

Some day it's going to make the story of that night even better, but oof, the elements were unkind. I so rarely wear my winter jacket that when I was getting ready to be picked up I couldn't find it. I finally did, and remembered that the zipper was broken. I guess I need to buy another winter jacket to keep in the car while I'm driving places in winter. 

The little Thai place near Davis's apartment was cute and the food was good and the staff was amazing, but we might as well have been eating outside. Then we ran back to the car, which Di had started remotely, but it was locked and WOULDN'T OPEN. And you know when you do that thing where you've measured out all your bodily resources for the exact space of time you need, and then you can't actually get warm? 

It was only a couple of minutes until she figured it out, and then we drove over and parked near the theatre and shiver-ran again. Except the soles of my Docs froze absolutely smooth so I couldn't really run, and even walking I fell once on the ice, but it was the kind of slow slide where you don't actually go down hard enough to get hurt. 

The play was really good - so much colour and movement and music in the bleakest of the midwinter -Davis was fantastic, and it was a long, fun, really cold day. It took me a good forty-five minutes on the way home before I was too warm and had to take my coat off - usually it's about two.