Category Archives: Random Musing

Saying Goodbye is Mission Impossible

Tessa: On Saturday I had the good fortune of having to go through a large obstacle course in order to leave a party at a friend’s house. When he discovered that I was planning on calling a cab two things happened: a) the telephone disappeared b) I was tackled to the ground where I had to swear Uncle that I wasn’t going to leave.  After playing this little game of lies and subterfuge I leapt up, sprinted through the kitchen and into the living room with J in tow, and screamed CELL PHONE.

One came flying my way and for the first time in my life I remembered a taxi number. I hastily dialed it while J yanked at the phone, I screamed the address in and waited. Dave came flying in behind J (I thought he was trying to rescue me but really I think he just likes playing chase). By the time the cab came Dave was wrestling J and I managed to sprint out the door and the down the steps into the cab. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to get Dave out but with his shoes in hand, his jacket waving in the wind,  he flew down the stairs making his devilishly devious escape and I knew we were home free.

I breathlessly gave the cab driver our address and  sighed a deep breath of relief. Whew. Prior to our evenings out with our good friend we practice things we can say in order to make our departure a little less painful for him. Sometimes I say to Dave “Just tell him. Just tell him straight out we have to go. ” Other times we say we have to go home because of the dog. The dog can’t be alone. The dog needs us. We have to go. I’m running a race tomorrow. We have to go. Sometimes we plan on sneaking out but he has this way of knowing every time we’re even remotely thinking of leaving. This time we escaped with relatively minor wounds. Obviously it pays to watch Mission Impossible or we might never have gotten out of there. I’m beginning my ninja training in the New Year. Then we’ll see who wins this contest!

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Alex Morin is a devilishly handsome genius. Funny too!

Tessa: Most people who know Alex Morin, his mother and myself included, maybe even Alex himself, would agree that he is not only devilishly handsome with those big brown chocolate eyes but he is also rather brilliant.  At three he could name every kind of truck known to humankind, by eight he had a certain finesse with the word ‘asshole’ and at fifteen he not only owns some pretty sassy dance moves but he also happens to have an encyclopedic knowledge of sports and Neil Young.  How can you trust me? How do you know I’m telling you the truth and not lying to you the way so many others might especially in my family? Well, I’m not lying because a few years back Dave and I had the pleasure of spending a little time with Alex when he was in Vancouver.

I didn’t really know him that well and worried that we wouldn’t have anything to talk about. Well it turns out I had nothing to fear because Alex is a versatile, nimble and willing participant in all conversations!  I also thought he’d be bored senseless and who knows maybe he really was and that’s where the lying part comes in but he seemed pretty happy to hang out and watch Seinfeld, go for a walk on the beach (actually I think he hated that part) watch endless movies and eat his greens. Okay that’s a lie. That guy definitely doesn’t like eating green things but really that’s very minor. When it was time for Alex to go I was actually kind of sad which is the opposite of how I feel when it’s time for guests to leave.  Most of the time I can’t wait to get rid of people and the adrenalin rush I get from the anticipation of their departure gives me a bit of a led foot when I’m on the way to airport, where I unceremoniously deposit them at DEPARTURES. BYE. SO LONG. ENJOY YOUR LIFE. Actually that’s what my cousin said to me the other day when he hung up. “Have a good life.” which indicated to me that this was to be our last conversation.

Not so with Alex though. I still like him even after his departure. And even though we don’t really talk we facebook which is even better than talking. So in the end I realized that the things that we’re great about him were the things that I mentioned above. And also the fact that even though he tries to hide it, he is actually very sweet. Oh, by the way. This is not a paid advertisement.

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The Secret Lives of Turkeys

Tessa: This weekend Taya and Ella, our nieces stayed overnight at our house. Life sure is different with kids. On Sunday morning at 10:00 am instead of lolling about in bed, we were standing at the gates of a petting zoo, Maple Wood Farms, which is just down the road from us. It was cool because you could see all these animals up close and pet them. They had these miniature pygmy goats that were amazingly sweet and friendly, horses, cows, bunnies, chickens, geese and one single turkey.

Dave joked and said “Oh here’s Christmas dinner.” It occured to me that I knew nothing about the lives of turkeys even though I had eaten many in the past. So I went hunting and found this article. It’s not for the faint of heart but it has some interesting facts about these birds. Continue reading

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When Moths Die

Every Tuesday morning I go skating. This morning was no different than any other. I got up early. Felt bitter. Drank my coffee and drove in the dark and rain to the rink. We started our practice and it felt okay. I did some laps when suddenly I noticed a moth on the ice. It was fluttering around trying to gain enough traction to fly away but it couldn’t.I intended to pick him up on the next lap and put him out of harm’s way but by the time I came around again someone else had found him and was busy stomping on his fluttering wings. It was a sixteen year old kid. My friend Gayle and I yelled at him at the same time to stop and she skated over and picked the moth up and brought him to the side of the rink and put him in a safe place…or as safe as he could be in that situation.

Gayle looked at me and said you know it’s funny, when Michael (her son) was little, we used to go to Granville Island all the time and we would sit outside where all the pidgeons were. All the kids would chase the pidgeons she said, but I never let him do that.

That really made me like Gayle.

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Anton Newcombe: Brian Jonestown Massacre in Vancouver

Last night Dave and I went to go see Brian Jonestown Massacre at the Commodore. We’re both big fans of Anton’s music and so we were pretty excited at seeing him live for the first time. It took a while for the band to play their set and as time went on the crowd pressed closer and closer around us.

We were close to the stage and had to fight back a few aggressive people who I guess thought they could muscle their way in. Two of them pushed their way through at separate times saying, “Hey, man you mind if I get in there? I want to take some pictures. This is probably the last time I’m going to see Anton live again. I’ll move out quick.” “Yeah, sure go right ahead.” “Hey, Anton’s not in a good mood tonight.” he said with a half smile. “I don’t want to be in throwing range. I was backstage and he didn’t recognize me but I got him to take his medicine. You know his medicine, heh? We’re friends.” Yeah, friends. Right. He said that with the smugness of someone who sees himself close to the flame but is mainly there to witness the spectacle of public self-destruction.

So it was in anticipation that we waited for the band to take the stage. I guess anything can happen with Anton.

But lucky for us they did take the stage. And lucky for us they did play. Was it a completely pleasant experience? No. Anton, it turns out wasn’t in a good state of mind, so he terrorized his band and was nasty and a bit hostile to the audience but he was prepared to play his heart out because that’s his zone. And he did just that until some fucking asshole threw a broken beer bottle at him. That person was there for the spectacle and not for Anton’s music.

Anton’s first album is called Thank God For Mental Illness. Maybe because his dad killed himself or maybe because Anton himself suffers from mental illness. I’m not sure. But it was with a real mixture of sadness and joy that I watched him. He’s a trainwreck of a person with an amazing amount of talent. His heart and soul go into his music and no matter what you say, it’s still amazing to witness that kind of raw talent. I hope Anton’s life doesn’t get so hard that he doesn’t stick around to continue creating great music.

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The love for your pet…. priceless

Dave: So I’ve learn ed a few things over the last little while; there are people who unconditionally love animals and then there are the other people.

I remember when I bought my VW Jetta VR6 a few years ago (now sold), it was a pretty hot little car. Everyone was very supportive and congratulated me on such a nice purchase; “Great car, way to go, nice job”.
Now we jump ahead to this last month when some of these same people found that the cost of all Reuben’s surgeries, was roughly the same as the car. All I saw was raised eyebrows, wide eyes and large inhales of breath… and even a couple of head shakes.

So let me think this through; a large hunk of air polluting metal or, an animal that brings our family unimaginable amounts of joy every day… hmmmmm.

Another dog was in the cage next to Reuben at the hospital. He had had the same emergency as Reub and his intestines had failed to hold after the second surgery. The owners decided that they didn’t want to go for a third surgery, even though their dog was only five and if the operation was successful, he would have been 100%. We couldn’t figure it out… we thought the money must have been an issue, until we saw them drive away in their Lexus.

I think you do what you have to do, you make it work. After four surgeries Reuben is doing fantastic. He’s making us laugh again… he’s family.

Our family member, or a fancy car?…. I know what gives us more joy.

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Brian Jonestown Massacre

Nevertheless by The Brian Jonestown Massacre

Dave: If you’ve never heard of the “Brian Jonestown Massacre” you’re missing out on a great band. Have a listen. They play the Commodore ballroom September 8th, only $20.

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Bali Restaurant in Scheveningen, Holland – Sprawling History 1

Tessa: There used to be an Indonesian restaurant in Scheveningen, Holland called Bali. The restaurant looked like an old house that had been renovated. As a child my family used to travel to Holland frequently to visit and this was one restaurant we would always go to. First we would pick up my grandmother, Nenny, who lived in Den Hague (The Hague) and off we would go. Those visits always included my mom and dad, my sister Petra, brother John and if my exiled sister Jokelee was in town from Switzerland, she would be there too, along assorted aunts, uncles and cousins.

Even though we would often eat indonesian food at home going to a restaurant like this was a big treat because we would order the entire rijstafel that included alot of things I didn’t know. AND bonus my dad would order in this strange language that was neither Dutch nor English. What is that, I asked? What? he’d say. That language. Malay, he answered. What’s Malay? A language spoken in Indonesia. How come you’re speaking it? Because that’s where I’m from. Really? Yes. Does she speak it? I said pointing to my grandmother. No. Why? At which my grandmother looked at me and said, I speak only Dutch. Ik spreek alleen Nederlands.

I think that was the first time, although certainly not the last time, I realized my dad was something other than what I thought he was. As a six year old I don’t think you actually think about things in that kind of a way but I definitely knew in that moment that both he and my grandma were different even if she denied it. And the only reason I could figure that out was because even though my dad spoke that funny language he looked like me; blonde and blue-eyed, and my grandmother was dark and exotic like our waiters. For that brief moment that a kid cares or pays attention to those kinds of things it just seemed twisted.

That was my first introduction to Indonesia, a place that my father, his brother and sister and my grandmother were all born and raised.

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So Long Canada West

Tessa: The other day I was at Canada West Veterinary Specialists for Reuben’s check-up. As we got close to the hospital Reuben got really excited as if he were going on a big hike instead of to the doctors. He ran out of the car and into the reception area where he was greeted by a posse of staff who all shouted, “Hey Reuben’s here.” They crowded around him and gave him big kisses while we waited for super babe nurse Jayne to come out.

As we waited for Jayne he sat there with his tail wagging and a big boner, a sure sign of happiness in my mind. There was a couple beside us and we started chatting. They had that worried, crazy look that Dave and I had a few short weeks ago. I asked them what was up and they said Princess was in for her second spinal cord surgery and I nodded knowingly. Of course. I get it. They asked about Reub and I told them about Reuben’s four surgeries. They nodded and shook their heads knowingly. They’re like our children she said.

Then when the beautiful Jayne emerged and got on the ground and started whispering sweet nothings into my sweetie’s ear, (Reub not Dave) he looked almost as happy to see her as he usually is to see me and it made me feel really good inside.

Reub and I were then ushered into one of the waiting rooms to see Dr. Enberg. He always says Trevor and introduces himself in that nice informal way but I can’t quite bring myself to say that quite yet. He’s still Reuben’s doctor and by calling him that I feel like I can hang on to that a little bit longer.

He did the usual things, felt his intestine, finger up the poop shoot and generally played with him on the floor calling him sweet things like here’s my boy. I looked at him and said Dr. Enberg have we turned that corner yet? And he paused and looked at me and without missing a beat or making me feel like I was stupid he consulted the sixty two pages of charts and medically things on paper and said well you know his surgery was then and his last this was then and he hasn’t had a reaction to the human albumin so I think it’s very safe to say yes, he’s turned a corner.

Wow. He’s turned a corner. I wanted to hug him and run out and grab Jayne and all the cute receptionists who act like Reuben is a movie star when he comes in. DID YOU HEAR THAT???? Then I realized that in a weird way I feel completely at home at Canada West. I feel surrounded by like-minded people…people who don’t give a second thought to doing everything they can to help animals.

Since Reuben has come home we’ve been confronted with different reactions. People are usually too polite to ask how much we paid for his life but it’s private health care and they can pretty much figure out half of the cost and even that makes them gasp. One person suggested that there were so many animals that needed homes from shelters perhaps we should have just done that.

I guess at the end of the day we all have to make our choices in these matters because animals don’t have the same rights as people do. Their lives are completely at the mercy of their owners and that makes me feel sick to my stomach.

I told Dr. Enberg I was going to miss them. I’m not going to miss Reuben being sick but I’m going to miss being surrounded by crazy animal loving people who get it.

Now I spend my days plotting and thinking about how I could be useful there. My mother suggested I become a vet. I think not. But it’s the kind of uncompromising commitment that I love so I guess I learned something from this experience.

My next blog will be about my mother’s visit. I can’t write it right now because she won’t let me and as it is I am only writing this one because Dave is keeping her temporarily preoccupied. Soon she will come and hunt me down and demand more attention or want me to paint her toe nails or get her another glass of wine or something. There is definitely something about distance making it possible to love some people more. But more on that next week.

See ya.

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Things I love about Reub

  1. His gorilla head.
  2. His ridiculously long legs.
  3. The whites of his eyes and how they look like diamonds when he looks at me a certain way.
  4. How even though he has slept on the bed for 51/2 years he never just jumps up. He waits and waits and stares and stares until we invite him up. Every single time.
  5. How in the morning he backs into me so I will scratch his big hairy bum.
  6. How he closes his eyes when I massage his shoulders.
  7. How he thinks when I’m drying him off that I’m trying to rub his bum so he backs into me again because he thinks this is a big game.
  8. How he falls onto grass from a complete standing position onto his back and rolls and rolls and rolls around.
  9. How when we’re at our most tired he picks up the ball and heaves it across the room at us to make us play with him.
  10. How he lets me spoon and fawn over him endlessly.
  11. How he tries to sit on my head when I’m stretching.
  12. How he sits on my legs.
  13. How he loved having me pick him up all the time when he was little.
  14. How he never returns the ball ever unless you say SIT six times then he spits it out at you and walks away.
  15. How he only catches the ball if he feels like it .
  16. His big skinny gangly legs in the water when he swims.
  17. How he loves me more than anything else.
  18. How he loves Dave.
  19. How he is an unabashed sissy.
  20. How he doesn’t just love anybody.
  21. How trusting he is.
  22. How he is our best friend in every way.
  23. How he loves snow and runs around like crazy in it.
  24. How he runs in crazy circles, stops suddenly looks at you with his gorilla head and then starts all over again.
  25. His love of jumping into tall grass.
  26. How he adventures but only ever with Dave.
  27. His soul.
  28. His heart.
  29. His unconditional friendship.
  30. How when he’s feeling unsure he gives you his paw.
  31. How he likes to talk and talk and talk.
  32. How he wags his tail in the gurney even as he is being rushed into his fourth surgery.
  33. How everyone in ICU stops by and gives him kisses.
  34. How he never growls or gets mean even with caregivers who are constantly prodding him with needles, IV’s and drugs.
  35. How he gathers our smelly socks and t-shirts and uses them to build his nest.
  36. How he fusses over his nest until it’s just perfect.
  37. How he arranges my t-shirts even in ICU so all the nursing staff talk about how he lies on the shirts or makes a pillow with them.
  38. How he loves to race Dave when they’re swimming making his gangle legs go even faster.
  39. The look of determination when he’s racing Dave.
  40. How he never tires of the game he and Dave play each and every time they leave the house that always results in Reub belting down the hall at full speed looking back wildly to make sure Dave’s coming.
  41. How he wags his tail when he knows we’re going to the car.
  42. How he much prefers to be driven than walked.
  43. Did I mention his heart? I love his big big heart and his old soul.
  44. I was only going to write 10 things I love about Reub but it’s impossible to stop once you get going.

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