Monthly Archives: May 2011

Light reading

Today, I send you away to read other people’s writing. Specifically, Margaret Atwood’s thoughts on libararies (thanks to Adrienne Mason for the link.)

That’s short, so you should still have time to read Bill McKibben‘s thoughts on why we should make links between extreme weather events and climate change. He’s the 350.org guy, and he’s much better at sarcasm than I am.

Witness protection for writers?

It was the 50th anniversary of UBC’s OT department this weekend, and Min, as a member of the event organizing committee, scored a discounted room at the River Rock Casino in Richmond. So, we dropped the kids off at their aunt’s house early Saturday afternoon, and checked into what turned out to be a one-bedroom suite, complete with two TVs and a jacuzzi tub.

Min had a head cold and immediately fell asleep, leaving me with several hours to spare, a stack of books, and absolute silence. No one asked me for a snack, no one had to use the potty, and no. one. talked.

Oh my.

After a while, I got to thinking. What if we were in the witness protection program? What if there were armed guards outside the hotel room, and we were’t allowed to leave? How long would it take me to get bored?

I decided AT LEAST seven days. Min (when he woke up) said he could last a week, but only if he were allowed access to the hotel pool and gym. Which I think those secret service guys could arrange, no?

All I can say is… if any of you are secretly laundering drug money, I’m TOTALLY turning you in.

Working from home: the checklist

My friend Liisa just got a new job. She’ll be working from home a couple days a week, and she asked if I had any secrets. Why, yes I do! Here’s my survival checklist:

  1. Place your desk far from the kitchen. It’s true, you’ll forget that you made tea until you find it cold on the counter a few hours later. This is a small price to pay for not eating the entire bag of cookies, “just one more” at a time.
  2. Do not keep chocolate in the house. If you must have chocolate available — your children’s Easter candy, for example — have another family member hide it from you.
  3. Keep busy. If you have one thing to do, it will take you until dinnertime to get motivated. If you have ten things on the to-do list, the sense of urgency will drive you forward. If you have to, create your own deadlines. But don’t tell yourself they’re fake.
  4. Take your laundry out of the dryer and dump it in your office area. You’re bound to procrastinate, and you may as well get something useful done.
  5. Get call display, and do not answer the phone when Aunt Marge calls during your work hours.
  6. People will invariably call you about work issues when you are not officially working. If all children are like my children, they will immediately begin leaping off bookshelves and playing musical instruments (wait… that was Min), as soon as you answer such a call. You can put your other family members outside, but I find it most useful to leave them inside, and lock yourself on the deck.
  7. Working from home does not have to mean staying at home. If you start to feel as if the apocalypse could happen and you would be the last to know, then work from a coffee shop, the library, or the park down the street. Take your cell and your laptop. Technology is a wonderful thing.
  8. Get some exercise. If you don’t, your family members will arrive home from their days, ready to relax, and you will be jumping up and down at the door like a jack russell terrier.
  9. Do not book lunch dates in advance. If you’re busy, you’ll need that time. If you’re not… well, it’s amazing how many friends will jump at the chance to leave the office and meet you for sushi.
  10. Shower. Despite the rumours, working in your pyjamas is not productive. Plus, it scares the FedEx man.

That’s my advice! I was working from home for years before these rugrats trapped me here, and I think it might kill me to go back to my old windowless office. And how would my laundry get done?

Good luck, Liisa!

On writing…

I’ve been reading Stephen King’s On Writing this week, a book I’ve been meaning to buy for… years. So far, the memoir section has been highly entertaining. One of the things that always strikes me about writers’ personal stories is how hard they’ve worked. They didn’t just scribble a first novel in the back of their high school math book, realize its brilliance, and sell it for millions. No, they worked their arses off.

Oh, and they had wives. The type that cared for the children, did the laundry, and cooked nightly dinners.

Hmmmm… where can I get one of those?

A new Anne fan is born

My daughter was sick for most of this week, and I was lazing around with a back spasm (something that’s not supposed to happen to those of use who are card-carrying members of the Jillian Michaels cult.) The up-side? Well, there was a screening of The Sound of Music. Good fun for both of us, with the added benefit of chasing the boys from the room.

Even better: our first reading of Anne of Green Gables. I’d forgotten how… abundant… the writing can be. We’ve had countless stops to talk about “bosum friends” and “kindred spirits” and “tragical events.” Then we had to name some of our neighbourhood geography the way Anne names hers. (A walk along Lindsay Tree Lane, anyone?) When we actually stop talking and READ, it’s wonderful. We’re both thoroughly in love with Anne, and I’m finding Marilla more entertaining than ever before.

I have to admit, Emily — not Anne — is my favourite PEI girl. I’m hoping that after we’re finished this book, my daughter will be willing to try Emily of New Moon, just to make her mother happy.

On etiquette

Min has suggested — somewhat diplomatically — that my letters to government officials be less sarcastic and more respectful.

I’m torn on this, personally. I don’t believe anyone will thoroughly read the letter, so I see no reason to be overly respectful. If someone actually does read it, it will probably be a co-op student. In which case, my letter serves a dual purpose. It counts on whatever scorecard the politician’s office keeps for these sorts of things, AND it keeps just one young civil servant from dropping into a boredom-related coma.

What do you think? I’m theoretically capable of writing a more serious letter (though I find the idea less than motivating). Is sarcasm disrespectful? Do elected officials deserve respect simply because they’re elected officials?

Or does any of it matter?

Letters for the abyss

Dear Christy Clark:

Congratulations on winning the recent by-election. I understand that your government will be putting families first, so I thought I would write to you about some of my family’s particular concerns. First, as I send my children across the street each morning to their school, a 100-year-old brick building, I’m extremely concerned about earthquake safety. I understand that you committed to seismic upgrading when you were the Minister of Education. And still, our school — rated at high risk of severe damage in the case of an earthquake — is not even scheduled for repairs. I find this offensive, particularly when I drive by BC Place and see its $563 million new roof. (Which, by the way, is horrifically ugly. Have you seen that thing? It’s likely to scare tourists from the city.)

Onwards. My second concern is the underfunding of the school system as a whole. I notice that you transferred insurance payments to the individual school districts this week, which to me doesn’t indicate a strong interest in better funding. Also, I take issue with the way the carbon tax is being implemented. While I support the tax, I was appalled to read in the Vancouver Sun that the money taken from the Vancouver School Board — enough for the equivalent of five full-time teachers — was given to Encana, the oil company currently being sued for contaminating drinking water through fracking. I had the opportunity to speak with David Eby before the by-election, and he mentioned that one of your key advisors is a former executive of Encana. Nice.

These facts alone lead me to doubt your “families first” priorities… and I haven’t even done any research yet. In order to earn my vote in the next provincial election, I’m afraid you would have to improve your environmental standards, and begin repairs immediately on our neighbourhood schools.

Thank you for your time and attention.

Sincerely,
Tanya Kyi

Random thoughts for a new week

  • Saturday was World Naked Gardening Day! (I know. I should have told you earlier. I’m so sorry you missed it, but it fit in nicely with my plans to stand in the backyard naked and wait for Google Earth to photograph me.)
  • Only a few more days to comment on this post, and enter to win Jacquie Pearce‘s wonderful new chapter book! Incidentally, I just bought another Jacquie Pearce title for a small friend in Britain. It’s called Discovering Emily.
  • My friend Deryn — awesome — wrote a post about being influenced by Sandra Gulland — uber awesome (no offence, Deryn) — and then Sandra Gulland wrote a post about Deryn. How cool is that? Sandra Gulland, if you’d like to write a post about me, you can. You can even check Google Earth for photos.
  • For research purposes, I’ve been carrying around a book called Blood Magic: The Anthropology of Menstruation. Let’s just say it’s a good thing I’m already married, because this is not a way to make new male friends.