I really enjoyed listening to Mona Fertig and Maxine Gadd, performing at Emily Carr University last night via the On Edge series. The poetry and the discussions were very engaging, and the afters at the pub was as well, and almost unique in my experience.
I had such a good time, arriving home to find myself locked out of the house was not enough to ruffle me. The cat Sophie watched me through the front window, with a great deal of compassion, repeatedly turning to gaze up the stairs to see if anyone would come down the stairs to assist me. I knocked on the door, I rang the bell. I knocked on the window. I retreated to the front door of the complex, and repeatedly pushed on the buzzer, which rings the telephone in two different rooms of the house.
I called one son from the front of the house. I went to the back, saw that the little ribbon meant to gain access to the lock on our "new, improved" gate was not available. I called another son from the back of the house, but not for too long, not wanting to disturb the neighbours.
I decided against throwing things at the window.
I returned to the front of the house, and carried on making as much racket as I possibly could. Lo and behold, eventually, my son Isi came down the stairs, and unlocked the front door.
He was very apologetic: we had a big hug. He had heard all of the racket I was making, he said, but it took him a while to understand that it had anything to do with our household. The moment that he understood, he came quickly forward to help. I thanked him profusely, and we sat and shared a late evening snack, before heading for bed.
Today I read up on the recent Supreme Court decision in relation to Education in British Columbia, and posted about it on Glen Eden community blog, under the title "a major human rights victory." I started to add a personal comment, but it seems I had quite a lot to say, and so, eventually I trimmed the essay to a stub, and made it a separate editorial comment, under the title "bullying." Any readers who have in past enjoyed my personal rants in this space, or who have been moved to wonder by recent posts here and wider media coverage of things as diverse as youth suicide, martyrs, sainthood, the "hyphen," and Vic Toews, should definitely follow the links and read up.
Those who just come by for the poetry, however, may be satisfied with the brief event review above, and need not worry overmuch about what metaphorical reverbs may have been intended by dwelling on "the lock-out" story. Those who follow the links will see precisely what I am talking about, as i serve up another dollop of applied memoir.