The day trip

Once...I was in the town of Bath, UK. I happened to trip on some cobblestones and hurt my knee hard enough to not be able to carry my backpack for about 5 days. I looked at the sign on the front hostel desk that read "trips to Stonehenge, $15 return" daily and for some reason never went. I don't remember why not. It's not like I had something better to do. I always regretted it.

Well..I was able to rectify that one regret...And went to Stonehenge today.(right..uploading with iPad is a bit finicky.. Will sort sizes later..)

Merry Christmas!!

 

Thanks Santa for the Ipad. It's loaded with games, news sites, knitting apps, music, a movie and the new Keith Richard's new book. It'll come in handy for the long flight to London today. 

We're off to visit the fella's family in England..we have a car! Oh.. this will be fun!! The year that ends in adventure starts the next one off right. 

xxoo

flooding in the emerald city

I decided to Pike Market it up for Christmas prezzies.. so I rented a car on Friday night with the intention of driving down to Seattle super early Saturday morning. It didn't go exactly to plan when I slept in until 10 am. But I figured the weekend rental car deserved a journey and I took off for the border and sights south. There's no journey into Washington that could be complete without the obligatory stop in Bow-Edison.

This time I drove past a farm with a wee house front and was selling cheese made on the spot.. Samish Bay Cheese. Amazing! Bought a chipotle Gouda and a herb version and had an amazing chat with the owner Suzanne about how we stay linked to physical locations and how special the Skagit Valley is. As usual, my visit in Edison was lovely and magical. I have made friends with David, the owner of the Apothecary and always stop into Tweets, the cafe that has the very best breakfast I have ever had.

Onwards to Seattle.. which put me in town at 4pm! Um.. I beginning to wonder if I'm going to drive back the same day. But figured I'd Pike Market it up with my 1/2 loading zone only parking spot and fast! I picked up a few of my favorite things to give as gifts and ran for The Crumpet Shop (another spot that never goes unvisited) and found it closed! Not a good thing.. and not looking good for leaving Seattle.

Later in my search for Abita Beer, (that you can't get in Canada- but I really enjoy) that went unfound and I was driving around and saw a neon Abita sign.. it was literally a sign as there was also a free parking spot. It tuned out to be a New Orleans themed restaurant, Marcela's. I don't think Chicken Cordon Bleu is native to New Orleans or creole- but it was delicious. What the hell are Potato Ya- Ya's? I treated myself to bread pudding with whiskey sauce dessert and the drive home was getting farther and farther unlikely.

So, I phoned the only other number I brought with me.. A B&B I stayed in with my mom & sister- Seattle Hill House and the owner graciously agreed to match the cost of a likely less comfortable hotel that would mean I would have to pay for overnight parking in downtown Seattle. Full on chicken, beer and bread pudding I checked into my queen size bed with 4 large feather pillows and private bath. Tucked in with the latest Rolling Stone article on a unpublished John Lennon interview done days before he was killed and listened to the rain hitting the windows. This morning I met a couple from Florida who work for the Home Shopping Network, a couple from Olympia, a woman from Denmark and another from Paris. A B&B trumps a hotel any day.

The rain.. did I mention the torrential rains? It's not alot of fun to carry around you camera in. It makes everything slippery and hard to drive in. I drove though a small shallow lake already. News reports that some road are out due to water coverage. I think it's all south though.I'll make due. I brought my rain coat. I have a few more stops to make..

Watson Kennedy is by far my favorite Seattle shop. I found free parking right across the street. The car will stay there and I'll walk up to Pike, the crumpet shop and the local Lush. I'll bring all my packages back and head north.. back to feuding kitties, knitting projects, familiar blankets and my fella. But not before I visit Fancy, Shmancy and Nancy.. 3 shops doors down from one another and another favorite Seattle thing.

.

life at 17

2008-04-24-0838-05_edited, originally uploaded by jilly71.

Ii was (and still am) crazy about Janis Joplin and had hung all the album covers on my wall.

I was fascinated with the 60's and hippies and had tie died my pants, indian bed spread, peacock feathers, bean bag chair and beads.

That's Raven, my 1st cat and the apartment I had off of high school property.. because I lived by myself.

I also smoked.

imagine

imagine, originally uploaded by jilly71.

the most exotic carry bag evah

I feel like I need to plan sleep overs. I need to go somewhere with a change of clothes in a bag or something. My latest impulse purchase arrived and it's a mighty mighty bag. Big enough for a lap top, multiple yarn projects, you name it.. it's much bigger and more beautiful than I thought. I love it though. Better get my bohemian rhapsody on for the spring. x

a few of my favorite things...

Every time I see this artist at a Craft Fair, I covet/ admire her porcelain pickling jars. Something about a $40 jar seems to be breach of my Scottish frugality though. But as mentioned to the artist today, she has taken something very basic and a bit thrift store and made it exquisite, beautiful and delicate. I gave have one to my sister last year fro Christmas because it's true Canadiana and i knew she would love it. Today I bought one for myself.

She mentioned to me that she's received a large order from a restaurant to have her Beaver jars as lamps. I told her she should look into trademarking her porcelain jars. 

Very happy to have one now of my own and $40 be damned. 

I'm enjoying knitting now that I took a cool class from Three Bags Full. They sell this beautiful yarn.. Malabrigo Merino wool. I made a yummy scarf in Frank Ochre and bought the Bobby Blue and Forest Green for 2 projects because it's so soft and cozy. It's like cashmere.

I took a sewing class and made these super comfy draw string pajama pants. I came home and found this crazy vintage soft cotton in a floral pattern I picked up at a garage sale and figured I had enough for the pants so I made them again. I can whip these off in 2- 3 hrs. Who wants a pair for Christmas? Just kidding.. I have NO TIME.

There's this great store in Gastown called Old Faithful. They sell these sweet little linen bags which also afront and offend my fugal nature. Unlines and made of linen, they are ridiculous at $25 each. I suppose they have to come all the way from Fog Linen in Toyko, but still. I bought one though, just so I could snip throught the serged seam and unstitch it to cut a pattern and make LOADS of them. Crafty huh. I just have to stitch the original back together again. Oof.

handmade Christmas

Last year I "made" my gifts which meant I framed my photos. This year, my newly refreshed craft skills will be employed. Which means I better get cracking!!!

Liberty in London

IMGP1774.JPG, originally uploaded by jilly71.

Liberty in London have the BEST mannequins. I'll have a few more of these shots, I hope.. Don't suppose I've mentioned.. I'm going to London for Christmas. I'm going with my fabulous British boyfriend who can drive on the other side of the road and knows all the cool spots.

social commentary

Yesterday an old friend of mine died and I found out because it was his Facebook status. I struggle to comprehend that a trivial and meaningless thing as Facebook now involves life changing status updates. I wonder how I would have known otherwise if I didn't have the Internet but then I wouldn't have been back in touch with Chris at all if it wasn't for the great connector- Facebook. I knew Chris really, about 15 years ago. The years between then and now also mean that I'm no longer in contact with any friends we had in common. But.. the Internet-it connected us again, allowed me to send a message to him, put me in contact in other friends and put us back in contact.

And so.. Chris died, but not so unexpectedly. Before he passed away, he was infrequently updating his Facebook status on his deteriorating health from throat cancer. He had courageously posted pictures of the gaping hole in his neck from the throat tumors clawing their way to the surface. He shared the terrible details of surgery to save his carotid artery and he reminded people to have a wake. Incredibly, in it all he kept his sense of humor like this: update from Nov 19: "the fact that 3 people have died in this 4 bed room in the last 48 hrs and I'm still here".


As the weeks went on, the tributes and memories poured in from his friends. Many of them people I knew or "knew of". I read each one, little pictures colored in with words. Snapshots to scenes I wasn't in, parties I didn't go to, gig's I was too young to attend. Some posted photographs and I remembered how I used to know him.

I was in Toronto in July and happened to see him on the street as I drove by- amazing in a city the size of Toronto. I saw how badly he looked. He was in ill health then. He looked like death then. I got in contact and was able to see him and experience both the spirit of Chris as I remembered him and the sense he would be leaving. We walked down Bloor talking of the past, the mundane, the future.  I was grateful to see Chris again and in so many ways, he hadn't changed. He always had enthusiasm and excitement for things he thought were cool. He always seemed to walk quickly, slightly forward as thought he couldn't get to where he was going quick enough.

We walked past a church I had passed on the way to find his apartment. My senses alert and tingled the same way I have always been when aware of making memory yet I had ignored the church. Chris excitedly pointed out the beautiful stained glass windows of what was now an apartment building. "Isn't that cool?" he asked me. We walked near Dovercourt Ave where he was staying and he got excited about a book in a window and we went in an looked at it, he quickly engaged the shop keeper on the attributes of a certain cartoon style that segued into  something political- my mind was elsewhere.. but it was the spirit of Chris- intelligent, always engaging, insightful and talkative that I knew so many years ago.

He bummed some money off me for cigarettes, the irony, and scurried to the phine booth to make a call and probably buy drugs. He'd been an addict for as long as I've known him but I gave him the money. We stood on the corner of Bloor and Dufferin, in the sun as the people streamed past and I knew it was likely I would never see him again and I hugged his tall and always lanky but now bone thin frame for a long time and I started to cry. I told him all the things I thought he would want to hear and things I knew I would regret if I didn't say. "I think you're beautiful and I love you. Your life has already been perfect and thank you for being in mine so long ago." And I said, you're lucky. You're lucky if you get to go. Life is hard and brutal. I wanted him to know it was OK to put down all the pain and I hoped it would mean he could let his heart lift from the weight of his existence and heal.

 I updated my Facebook that it was great to see him sometime later that day. Social commentary. I saw you.. I took some photos..other people see this..you'll see this..Why does anybody put anything on Facebook? To share and connect and keep a tether thread to the lives of others no matter how tenuous. In the last weeks, the updates started to come from his sister and others who watched over him... in the hospital. And thanks to Facebook, old friend, past friends-  people made peace with Chris, expressed their gratitude, love and support and all these messages were read to him one by one as he lay in palliative care. That's a beautiful thing. 

Finally yesterday,  his status was updated by his sister:

Chris Bates Died today, Wednesday, December 1, 2010 - 44 years old

It was as my response said: worst.status.update.ever (and I'll fucking miss you.)

I feel bewildered that I watched his life wind down on Facebook. I saw weekly updates to the situation unfolding with each new refreshed day. We weren't close. I'm not an ex- girlfriend or a family friend. We went to the same gigs, hung around in the same bar and eneded up at the same parties. He wore a red beret and a quick wit, always on the go. He found out where I lived and came around or I invited him to dinner. We hung out a few times and I was about 22. Once, smoking hash and cigarettes, we burnt a hole in my favorite bedspread and messed around. He was probably a drug addict back then and I kind of pushed him away. He came to my door and announced he felt ostracized and I had to look up the word. Last time I saw Chris back then, was at a poetry reading; he spent a lot of time in the bathroom and looking sleepy. I didn't know what heroin was like back then and he left town. 

I never saw or talked to him again for probably 15 years but I watched and participated in the most personal and private event of his life because it was on the Internet, on Facebook. In some ways I'm grateful and in others- I feel the white bright numbness of the burst of hot firecracker fast and brilliant, stunning from a distance. Poetic. Like an over exposed photograph you hold at a distance. I still have that bedspread and that memory of that hot hash burn was as brief moment with someone who also burned hot and fast through his 44 years.  

RIP old friend. x