Antonia Sophia

 

Argh. Some humans are very very bad at peopling. In a holding pattern right now. In the meantime, here are some images. The first was taken in Riverdale, Edmonton; the second was taken somewhere in Edmonton; the third was taken at 7711 in 1970.

 

Seeing the pandemic from LIW's eyes

 Good day,

My title is obviously fanciful: Laura Ingalls Wilder did not write about a pandemic. But because I am re-reading various books in the Little House series in support of my teaching, I happened upon this passage:

After the October Blizzard last fall, they had all moved to town and for a little while Laura had gone to school there. Then the storms had stopped school, and all through that long winter the blizzards had howled between the houses, shutting them off from each other so that day after day and night after night not a voice could be heard and not a light could be seen through the whirling snow.

All winter long, they had been crowded in the little kitchen, cold and hungry and working hard in the dark and the cold to twist enough hay to keep the fire going and to grind wheat in the coffee mill for the day's bread.

All that long, long winter, the only hope had been that sometime winter must end, sometime blizzards must stop, the sun would shine warm again and they could all get away from the town and go back to the homestead claim.

Not a perfect analogy, obviously, but it resonated yesterday. Edmonton enjoyed a beautiful spring day: sunshine, melting snow, people out walking and greeting each other ... For a few hours I felt hopeful.

Obligatory anniversary post

Since posts like this are everywhere this week, here's mine. 

One year today, everything changed utterly. March 12, 2020 is the last day I was in a classroom with students face to face. The next day — Friday, March 13 — I was supposed to have a three-hour afternoon class with editing students. A third of them indicated before noon that they would not be attending class because of the mysterious virus they were afraid to contract, so I shifted the class to a series of online posts, notes, and readings. And thus it would be for the remainder of academic year 2019/20 and thus it remains for academic year 2020/21.

The pandemic has destroyed my brain. I experience all the things people talk about: brain fog, lost memories from the early months of the pandemic (March–May), unrelenting depression. On an average day I have about 80 minutes of good brain time; but my average work day is still ten hours long. So a lot of what I do is either extremely slow and inefficient or of dubious quality. Not ideal for someone who does intellectual labour.

We still don't know what the fall will look like — how can we? The situation is so changeable. Right now I am slated to go back to working on campus by the end of August and may be teaching in person the week after Thanksgiving. But lots could happen between now and then, for good or for bad. The larger context of Alberta post-secondary institutions is grim, and many students cannot afford to continue their studies next year. 

Until then, trudge trudge / whee whee.

Poor resolution

 

Hey there,

So much for that resolution to write more. In my defence — not that anyone's asking — I've been writing in other areas of my life QUITE A LOT. So.

It's the first day of March. One sixth of the year is over. And I have listened at least once to approximately 44 percent of the music currently in my iTunes library.

So that's something, right?

À bientôt,

L

 

But who's counting

 Hello again.

So much for resolutions, eh?

I did, however, want to record — for myself, if no one else — my music stats for this odd, odd year. 

At the end of the day on January 15, iTunes had played through 2,396 songs, which equals 6 days, 12 hours, 33 minutes, and 42 seconds (6:12:33:42). As of this morning, songs played more than 14 days ago are falling off the "Recently Played" list as usual. So.

Taken another way, iTunes has been playing close to twelve hours of music a day for the first two weeks of this year. 

And, for what it's worth, here's a little more breakdown: 2 songs have had 4 plays each; 15 songs have had 3 plays each; and 87 songs have had 2 plays each. 

So, there's some insight for you. I'll be back with more music stats in a couple of weeks. Until then, keep your eye on beauty.

In review: 2020 in pictures

 Hello again! One of my many resolutions is to blog more regularly. Let's see how quickly this one goes sideways.

Until then, here are some photos from my phone. Tra la!

1. Just before the boom was lowered: This is from late February 2020, early morning at Allard Hall. We were hosting a Greater Edmonton Teachers' Convention event. I drank too much Monster Ultra.

2. Emily doesn't understand why the humans don't leave: Spring sometime. Time is basically meaningless at this point.

3. This is how we go to concerts now: But what a glorious concert it was! The first of several at-home with Sarah Slean events.

4. Beauty is all around if you look for it: And sometimes people bring beauty to you! Thanks, C and C's momma.

5. Roll to the end of the world: Or at least the edge of northeastern YEG. I did a lot of cycling in Summer 2020 — but now I regret every day that I didn't go out.

6. Sure is hot here: Edmonton is notoriously not a hot place, so I like to record the days — such as this one, August 18, 2020 — when the temperature cracks 30C.

7. Suddenly last summer: From the last week of August until Christmas Eve, school was relentlessly busy, but I did carve out time (see what I did there) for Hallowe'en. We even had a traditional tequila shot — on the porch, appropriately distanced.

8. Courtesy of Nik: Why, yes, I do wear a skirt when I ride my bicycle. Sometimes. This was a gorgeous Saturday at the end of September. We had coffee and went for a long walk.

After October there are few photos in my phone. Maybe there will be more events worth photographing in 2021. One can only hope.

L

Back at ya, 2020

Well, so that was that. Even after more than nine months of working from home and living this muted life, every so often I am still caught off guard by the strangeness of how we live now. I miss actual people SO much. 

 

So let’s see how a global pandemic affected my consumption of cultural products, shall we.

 

 

The year in music

Not commuting to work really changed my listening habits. By year’s end I had listened to dozens of albums more than five times through — some more than ten times through. My top-played songs were played much less frequently than in past years, but nearly 2,000 of the tracks in iTunes had been played at least 10 times, and for the first time ever, I ended the year with fewer than 1,000 songs unplayed: only about 600 unplayed, in fact, of some 18,200 tracks in total. (That tally includes all the tracks tagged “Holiday” — more than 1,300 —which exacted quite a toll from the household at large.) 

 

I added almost 1,000 songs to my library this year. Much of that total came from re-ripping CDs I own that had been only partially ripped; the balance came from new purchases and free downloads. 

 

Top 25 plays

Jorge Luis Chacin, “Sueltala (J. Verner Total Dance RWK)”

Kate Bush, “Burning Bridge”

The Clash, “Know Your Rights”

Janelle Monáe, “Dance Apocalyptic”

Janelle Monáe, “Turntables”

The Dresden Dolls, “Girl Anachronism”

ABBA, “Take a Chance on Me”

Sonic Youth, “Superstar”

Air Supply, “Sweet Dreams”

Rise Against, “Savior”

Sheena Easton, “You Could Have Been with Me”

Prince, “17 Days”

Vopli Vidopliassova with Amarilyo, “Golubka”

Meg Myers, “Running Up That Hill”

Janelle Monáe, “Come Alive (War of the Roses)”

Haiku Hands, “Not About You”

The Killers, “The Man”

Knife Party, “Destroy Them with Lazers”

The Mowglis, “San Francisco”

Queen, “You’re My Best Friend”

Billie Eilish, “everything i wanted”

ABBA, “Summer Night City”

REO Speedwagon, “Keep on Loving You”

Queen, “Killer Queen”

Siouxsie and the Banshees, “This Wheel’s on Fire”

 

This year’s list certainly demonstrates some comfort listening, but also some attention to newer artists and genres. Many of the songs that had at least 20 plays this year reflected intentional listening for one of my research/writing projects and so perhaps will not be repeated. I guess we’ll see!

 

 

The year in books

One might think a pandemic would be an ideal time to catch up on one’s reading. Turns out, no. Not only were my days unbelievably long from mid March through Victoria Day; when my workload finally lessened, I found my brain broken and often incapable of sustaining more than fragmentary attention. Not an ideal trait in a scholar or an editor. 

 

Still, by the end of the year I had read 151 books. As in previous years, a good proportion of these books were middle-grade or young-adult titles, as I continue to teach and research in this genre.

 

Of the books I read in 2020,

 

• 109 were written by women

• 33 were written by men

• 9 were edited collections or written by multiple authors.

 

And I’ve adopted a new reading strategy, recommended by my pal Garry. Unless there is something urgent (and come on, what is actually urgent these days?), I try to spend about half an hour reading before I get out of bed in the morning. This decision has definitely made my days better AND increased my overall reading — so probably a habit to keep.

 

 

Oh, and television...

In other kinds of textual consumption, we didn’t get into binging on Netflix anymore than usual. We did bit by bit watch Schitt’s Creek, which, in the end, I adored, as well as The Great Canadian Baking Show, which I liked but didn’t love. We have started watching Letterkenny, Taskmaster, and QI, as well as picking through various panel shows and YouTube channels. Haven’t seen a movie in a theatre since December 2019, of course.

 

**

 

Well, that’s it for now. How did you fare last year? 

 

And happy new year! Here’s to something brighter and safer in 2021.

More mangling

Hey!

On the verge of the new year, here's another deranged erasure poem. Enjoy!

 

**

 

"What? Who?"

 

What child

                                                            is sleeping?

            Angels?                                   Sweet.

            ) her                 at                     peek (

This                 is                     the

                        guard               and

Ha ha,

                                                            Mary

Not really the spirit

 I call this a deranged erasure poem.

**

 

"Em em em"

O

                         captive

mourn in lonely exile

until ——

 

 

                                                Free

thine own                   

                                    people:

            give them victory

 

 

                                                Cheer

our spirits:

disperse the gloom

            and dark shadows

shall come

 

 

Make safe

                        the path to misery

 

 

                                                Might

thy

                        times

                                                awe

                        thee

 

 

Forty years later

 

People of a certain age remember the moment they heard President Kennedy had been assassinated or where they were as they watched the moon landing. People from a younger generation remember learning that Kurt Cobain was dead or that Princess Diana's car had been involved in a fatal accident in Paris.

I remember the night John Lennon was murdered. For me, that was the day the music died.

I'm not a huge Beatles fan, and I'm aware that John Lennon had his own demons (you may recall, wincing, that one of my favourite Beatles songs is "Run for Your Life"). Obviously I never met the man. But I mark December 8 this year, and every year, to mourn someone who added to the net joy in the world. To mourn that that mission was intentionally cut short by a deranged mind. To mourn someone who in some ways inspires me every day.

Today I am grateful that the world contained a John Lennon for even the short time it did. And I commit again to my personal mission to be a force for peace and good. Even in the darkest times. Music represents my rage against the darkness.

There is always light if we turn our eyes to it. Shine on, John. Shine bright.

 

Got yer nose

Hey, folks. So here we are nine months into a pandemic, and at present the numbers and the trend are not good. Particularly when I live in a city with a mask mandate (as well as periodic reminders to maintain physical distance and wash hands regularly). 

After a few events of being out in public more than usual, I must issue this following warning.

Wear your mask. That means cover both your mouth and your nose.

Because today I am putting it out there. If I see your nose poking out uglily from the top of your mask and you're doing nothing about it ...

I might flick your nose!

That's it. Back to the advent countdown.

Hallowe'en roundup

 Howdy!

It's November and also Fall Reading Break at MacEwan. I'm making slow, cautious progress on various projects.

In the meantime, this is a post to record that we had 78 kids at our door for Hallowe'en. More than most people expected, and it was delightful to see people dressed up and smiling. Here are the communopoly pumpkins:

And best of all, there's still leftover candy to munch on.

Here's to getting through November.

L

Thursday, six weeks later

 

This pandemic takes its toll, it does.

 Meanwhile, apparently my burlesque name is Le Le la Cookie. So there is that...

Halfway check in

Greetings! For those celebrating, Happy Canada Day!

Today my iTunes records that I have 4,460 (out of 17,552) tracks unplayed. So I guess the lockdown has been good for something.

My reading isn't quite as advanced as my listening, but I've been enjoying lots of poetry lately. Also Miss Fisher mysteries (they were novels first!).

Wishing you happiness today and always. Today is a great day for practising gratitude.

This space left intentionally blank

In shock. Moments ago I learned my graduate supervisor and friend Dr Jerry Kachur died a few hours ago. What the actual.



Another reason 2020 can shove off now.

Listing slightly

Hello! Welcome to May. Much like April, but with more sunlight.

List-based challenges are popular right now, and most of them are uninteresting to me. Then someone started the “30-Day Song Challenge” on Twitter, and that felt like something I could pursue. So here goes ...

A song you like with a colour in the title: “Purple Rain” by Prince and “Bitterblue” by Cat Stevens

A song you like with a number in the title: “17 Days” by Prince

A song that reminds you of summertime: “Summer in the City” by the Lovin’ Spoonful

A song that reminds you of someone you’d rather forget: “Babe” by Styx

A song that needs to be played loud: “Girl Anachronism” by Dresden Dolls

A song that makes you want to dance: “Dance Apocalyptic” by Janelle Monae

A song to drive to: “Carry On Wayward Son” by Kansas

A song about drugs or alcohol: “Burn It to the Ground” by Nickelback

A song that makes you happy: “Burning Bridge” by Kate Bush

A song that makes you sad: “And So Is Love” by Kate Bush and “Hey Jupiter” by Tori Amos and “Empty Garden” by Elton John and ...

A song you never get tired of: “You’re My Best Friend” by Queen”

A song from your preteen years: “Mickey” by Toni Basil

A song you like from the 70s: “Whenever I Call You Friend” by Kenny Loggins with Stevie Nicks

A song you’d love to be played at your wedding: n/a

A song you like that’s a cover: “Hush” by Deep Purple

A song that’s a classic favourite: “Hey Jude” by the Beatles

A song you’d sing a duet with someone on karaoke: n/a

A song from the year you were born: “Hair” by the Cowsills and “These Eyes” by the Guess Who

A song that makes you think about life: “Suspended in Gaffa” by Kate Bush

A song that has many meanings to you: “Mad World” by Tears for Fears

A song you like with a person’s name in the title: “Marlene on the Wall” by Suzanne Vega

A song that moves you forward: “Never” by Heart

A song you think everybody should listen to: “The Boxer” by Simon and Garfunkel

A song by a band you wish were still together: “This Wheel’s on Fire” by Siouxsie and the Banshees

A song you like by an artist no longer living: “I Got a Name” by Jim Croce

A song that makes you want to fall in love: “Sweet Dreams” by Air Supply

A song that breaks your heart: “Every Time I See Your Picture” by Luba

A song by an artist whose voice you love: “Blue Moon with Heartache” by Rosanne Cash

A song you remember from your childhood: “I’s the B’y”

A song that reminds you of yourself: “Music” by Cat Stevens

What you see here is one version of the challenge. In a different month, I would likely choose different songs. This version seems a little 80s heavy. I do like that many songs could fit into multiple categories.

What would your 30-Day Song Challenge include?

Not long gone

Grades are due in a week and I'm struggling to get out of bed on any given morning, so what better time to start scanning some old old old scrapbook material? Exactly.

I found the image below in a folder of pages torn out from magazines in the early 1980s — magazines like 16 and Tiger Beat and People. This particular page is from Creem — remember that? Well.

I was trying to imagine where a page like this would be published in 2020. Surely we live in a kinder, less sexist time now. (Seriously! Read those image captions.) But B says no.

Anyway. Whether we're more enlightened or not now, this is an interesting artifact. Maybe I'll post some others. What's turned out to be most amusing about this project is not the pages I saved but their versos — all the ads from the 80s, prices, products, images, styles ... So. Much. Visual. Culture. And I have the soundtrack to support it.

Laters!

No fooling

Good morning!

The sun is rising gloriously despite an air temperature of minus twenty, so the world does in fact continue to turn. We will get through this together — although it is a kind of togetherness apart.

Anyway. You might have been waiting breathlessly to know how my music library was faring at the end of the first quarter of this bizarre year. Well, the bizarreness of the year has played to my advantage: I have listened to nearly half the tracks in my iTunes library so far. At midnight on 31 March, 9,861 tracks were unplayed (of 17,465). Listening to music for twelve hours a day means we go through a lot of tracks quickly.

Of course, some of those tracks have been played repeatedly, too, and the music in my Top 25 would surprise no one who has been paying attention over the years. Though maybe the lack of bus commuting and bicycling will eventually change that, too.

Back to your daily day now. And as John Irving urges us, keep passing the open windows.

Like forty years ago

Hello again,

Still procrastinating. Here's a photo from the very late 1970s, taken in my grandmother's kitchen in St. Albert.

I honestly wonder whether photos from the 1960s and 1970s (and later, I suppose) degrade with age. Or is it simply that my parents were truly terrible photo-takers? This photo lived on my mother's bulletin board in her kitchen for years.

Photographs are taking on an increasingly important place in my life as my memories became fainter and are overwritten by memories of memories and conversations about memories. In this image I can refresh my sense of that house, that era — details that feel scarce after so much time.

Marching forward

Hello again!

Just a quick update re stats because ... well, why not? And I'm procrastinating rather than proofreading.

Thanks to the extra day in February, I listened to a few dozen more songs yesterday and can now report that I have listened to almost one-third of the tracks in my iTunes library. So far I've played through about 5,150 songs. Of those, more than 500 have been played more than once. So, once again, statistically speaking, I am on the path to listening to all of my iTunes library before December. And yet history shows it's unlikely that will happen.

Anyway. The sun is returning and the sky is blue, so let us rejoice while we may.