I have this new gesture, the windshield affect. One can wave one’s hand in front of someone’s eyes and they won’t blink.

The Vet that gave me back Liam had that windshield affect...one could wave one’s hand in front of her and she wouldn’t blink. The technician also had it as she showed me how to put stuff up Liam’s nose...in the cage. Neither had put the cat on the floor. If they had, they would have realized that he couldn’t walk...that he was dying...Your cat’s a bit wobbly – don’t let him near the stairs.

The man that I work for might have it. He admitted to me that next week would be the first time he would actually go to an Adult Ed center...these are the people he’s writing the books for. I’ve never actually seen his eyes so I don’t know.

The chair of the group I volunteer for has it...they stare straight ahead no matter what...so she writes about a meeting. I write to say if she needs me I’ll come for comic relief. She phones after the meeting to say...why weren’t you there? I say: You didn’t respond so I assumed you didn’t need me.

The Korean mom below me has it as I try to explain to her that her son can’t play the drums in my bedroom at ten at night and perhaps she should move them to another room and she says: But that’s where I sleep.

My other vet has it was she tries to think of another test she might use. I guess that’s it...the lack of ability to see the problem. Take his temperature...but it might be...take his temperature...but perhaps we should...

One could wave one’s hands slowly or desperately in front of their eyes and they wouldn’t blink.

It’s a lack of problem solving.

I’ve been gathering examples...

You’re never going to kill story telling because it’s built into the human plan. We come with it. Margaret Atwood

Some birthdays are never forgotten. Grannie's birthday was January 25, Robbie Burns' day! And her favourite flower - a sample of which fell out of her books? Queen Anne's lace!

I’ve never killed a man but I’ve read many an obituary with a great deal of satisfaction. Mark Twain

If I start checking my entries I might find repetitions but that would stop me from my goal...I want to make 365 entries this year...it is a matter of discipline. I was watching the women's march and thinking about the power...
I think back to the Montreal Women's Symphony. I wrote to a friend about the event: what I would have said to all of them was you should have come just to find out what these women did. Not as advancing the cause of women – that wasn’t their goal –but to follow their passions...they found out they could do
whatever they wanted! Stark put together this higglety pigglety orchestra in ten weeks with women who had never played those instruments before...You
want to play? We’ll play.

I just read a book called The Angle of Repose. The angle of repose or the critical angle of repose or granular material is the steepest angle or descent or dip relative to the horizontal plane to which a material can be piled without slumping. It's the idea of how high can one pile the sand before it falls down. The author uses the concept to explain how far the character can be pushed before he crumbles. One has to hold on to the angle of repose. That is the moment before everything crumbles.

I have a stunning memory for stories. I may not remember what i did yesterday but I remember people's stories. I was with a friend last week and remembered the story he told me of his grandmother thirty years ago. I still use his story of going in to
call his grandmother for supper and finding her with a nylon stocking wrapped around her neck like a scarf shouting at the moon: It's not true!
The first part Mike figured out - astronauts had just landed on the moon and his grandmother was protesting. No big deal.
"But why do you have a nylon wrapped around your neck?" he asked.
"Oh that," she replied, "I've had that on for a week. I was waiting for someone to notice..."

My mind is whizzing around in circles and accidentally brain storming...Fragments fly and I'm trying to catch them and put order into the
world...

This is a long one! I'm going to count it as two entries.

I do belong to two book clubs...I’m not sure I would call it a membership...One I joined, one I created...

The one I joined is filled with librarians who usually make good choices...but they tend to “present and be pedantic.” Unfortunately one of them has taken to finding authors on the street and insists on bringing the author and the book...both of whom should have been left on the street!

But I have to get my act together for them – they usually choose my book for me (they see me as the experimental one) and I like that...so I reviewed A Visit from the Goon Squad by Jennifer Egan for them...and if I think about it A Constellation of Vital Phenomena – the structure of which fascinated me. As I write I realize I have to get going on their next choice for me – Narrow Road to the Deep North by Richard Flannagan.

The book club I created is a hoot. I “rescued” a cat whose owner was desperate. Her husband had developed asthma to the point he fainted. It was the husband or the cat and there was a moment...but...

So she would visit the cat and he would shun her...she had had him for ten years...she was devastated. He would lie under the bed and we would lie on either side on the floor talk to each other about books. And we created a book club, BOGG (Because of Gillie Group). The truth was that we hadn’t realized – she was Jewish, I was Wasp...and for the first time this group of women who had grown up in the same city and were all of the same age met over the love of books and we have even gone so far as having a summer picnic in the park in Pointe Claire near the yacht club.

When one of the original members died, her daughter had a celebration in her house and it was then that Peggy, one of the Jewish members, realized that her son and the daughter had dated!! Peggy’s husband was commandant of the Pointe Claire yacht club in the 60’s which we couldn’t believe...

Sometime I must map the connections that have been made in that club...they are far ranging...

Peggy’s step mother is in the local senior’s home...she knew the manager because he had worked at the yacht club. I knew the manager because I taught him in grade seven...

We didn’t make any of these connections until we were in our 70’s!

I could sit and dream for hours or until my rotor cuff gives out...and then I worry about the remaining hours!

And yes...I found another obsession...that of bird houses!

And now I see them everywhere...

It was my friend Babs who pointed out the clouds to me when we were in France...I hadn't really thought about them before and now I see them all the time...such is the gift of the camera.

And clouds...trees and clouds...
I realize how privileged I am to wake up in the morning and say what shall I do today...and not answer housecleaning! Mind you it wouldn't hurt...house cleaning that is...but I don't know where to start!

Entry 4. I think I could easily become obsessed with trees!

I dream of a better world where chickens can cross the road without having their motives questioned.

Entry 3:
Two more lines from Blackish.

Over fifty million people can't be nuts or racist or hate women...it is time that we stop calling each other names and started to talk...

I have been lucky enough to raise four children, to see a black man in the white house and a white woman run for president...

Entry 2: Yes...I was at the museum and found this creature charming...Alas, today I met Charlotte, a Chinese Crested who twirled for treats and stole my heart. The breed is described as fine-boned, elegant and graceful...an adept climber ad jumper who often grips his toys (or his owner's neck) tightly with his paws. Some will bark (or howl) and some are clever escape artist who can scale high fences or dig under them. But listen to this! Housebreaking is very difficult as this somewhat primitive breed is inclined to excessive marking of his territory.

So I have nine entries to make up!

Entry 1: I found last week's Blackish astonishing. One of the lines: "The day after the election we all knew what it was like to be black..."

It is very hot in my apartment!

I haven't had the time to see if I am repeating myself...that is on my list to do...but I don't want to fall back into non-existence and so...

Make room for fruitful monotony. 

I achieved that last week...and this week I am entering chaos!

I identify with Job...Why me, Oh Lord...
I know that I'm supposed to listen and listen and listen and I'm not able to...

Some people impact; some people make an impact.

I still have to go out in the snow but in the meantime, I'm playing with my photos!

I would challenge you to a battle of wits, but I see you are unarmed.
Shakespeare

Ok...this is pathetic...but I am too tired to say anything - I just want to go to bed!

My return to Scotland this year although brief reminded me of just what had happened there...a twenty-year-old uncooked young woman had a training like no others because it was in Edinburgh that they were discovering student centered teaching...and unwittingly that is what I was trained in...I didn’t even realize it until the New Program came along and Louise said: That’s what you’ve been doing all the way along...such is the success of conditioning. When Leonard Cohen died I was tagged on Face Book by people thanking me for introducing him to them...I had forgotten how much I learned with my students... 

Yes...the Amaryllis are finally blossoming!
Boketto (Japanese)
the act of gazing vacantly into the distance without thinking

That same grandmother whom I obviously relate to would have been horrified - I think - that I have become a cat person. She was always dismayed with my parents that they did not lock their door. She feared that a cat would come in and have a litter in her cupboard and that someone would come in and kidnap me...I'm glad I was a priority for her. She ended up having the only key to the apartment which she would not share with my parents!!

And she would have once more tried to convince me that cats were not a good idea - after all - does he really think he can fit in this box?

I walk into 2017...relieved to be here but with no winter pictures to show because I haven't been out and I'm not going out...I'm just sitting with crossed fingers praying that 2017 will work...

...and that the celebrations for Canada's 150th birthday aren't too tacky!

I can do something about 2017 working but...I have no say in the celebrations!