Month: December 2013

Mother of pearl am I sore today. And it isn’t all Charlie’s fault. Though the thought of seeing him tomorrow at Cross Fit frightens me a little. Today, I cleaned the smallest apartment I’ve ever cleaned with a rather significant Texan trying to live there. I will call this client Tex. Tex is terribly incongruent in this Yaletown one bedroom designed for a teacup poodle who fits inside the tiny Gucci purse of a tiny Tokyo fashionista. Tex should be in a sprawling rancher, horses, cattle, fields of oil. Tex has a voice strong enough to yell over two sections…

Continue reading

I circle the graffiti marked cross fit building off of Clark like a buzzard in my black gym strip until I find an entrance. It says something akin to Cross Fit Mad lab – be prepared for cardiac arrest – leave your ego at the door. I tremble in my Lulu Lemons, “You’re a long way from hot yoga, Toto.” I open the door and enter into a large simple rough manly lair of a warehouse gym. This is a real gym! It isn’t some gym posing as a hair salon or a juice bar. It’s a real gym with…

Continue reading

We strap our leggy Douglas onto the roof of the mini (the tree larger than the vehicle) and put-put our way home, giddy with excitement. Nora and I are having Christmas early at Grammy and Poppa’s because my brother is in town so I thought we’d get into the whole spirit of the season early. We also have the Algerians here, shining a fresh light onto the whole beautiful absurdity of the season:   1)   Cut down a large tree from the forest and bring it into your house 2)   Gack it up and light it within an inch of…

Continue reading

Last night we closed Except in the Unlikely Event of War. We had two large audiences who whooped it up and we ended with an awesome young band featuring Zac Youssef’, (not sure if it was the Bank Dogs or just some of them – they were great https://www.facebook.com/events/722956794398624/ – and good friends stayed after for a little party. I came home and fiddled around until two thirty. Why? Well, I don’t think I wanted to wake up to being a maid in the morning.   But by this afternoon…   The sun is shining through the Westend apartment and…

Continue reading