Jane Graham's blog

Times get tough

Tonight, I went out for a few hours and left my husband home alone.

Upon my return, as I drove down our street, I noticed that other houses had put their garbage out, while our curb was empty. My front door was thoughtlessly locked. Inside, my husband had left a barely-touched drink (wasted rye!) on our antique sideboard, where it was slowly sweating a ring of condensation into the wood.
Further in the house was more of the same: dishes undone, leftovers on the counter, laundry waiting in both machines, toilet paper roll empty. A cacophony of household tasks all left glaringly undone, waiting for me.

Some nights, I like to think most nights, I would consider what bothered me most and reasonably mention perhaps one or two particulalrly objectionable points. Other nights, I'm afraid, I would relentlessly harass and harangue him over the myriad of failings. But tonight, I did neither.

Tonight, I let him stay on the sofa, watching TV, as I moved quietly around, folding, tidying, washing. I stopped and gave him a kiss on the forehead. And it was the right thing to do - tonight, he needed patience from me.

Earlier in the week, a catastrophe (nobody injured) left his workplace uninhabitable. He and his colleagues are suddenly, involuntarily, without work. Pending investigations and engineers' reports, we have no idea how long this will last. They are in limbo. We are in limbo.

For a man like my husband, work is more than a job; it's very much a part of his identity. The sudden loss of it leaves him bereft of purpose, and faced with a void that he never wanted to confront.

So tonight, instead of complaining about little things, I will quietly count my blessings. I will be thankful that we have vehicles and a house that we can sell if we need to;  parents we can move in with if we need to; that I still have a secure job; that we both have our health. I am happy that my husband is out of work only temporarily, unlike so many others. And I am happy that I have a relationship in which I can give space and support when it's needed, and I can expect to receive it in turn.

It sucks, but we'll get through.

just a little thing

A new-ish client needed a tagline. I sent in a couple of suggestions, and they picked the one I liked best, with the comment, "Great idea!"  I have a lot more to write for them, and while I'm working on it I'll be powered by the euphoria of their reaction to that four word sentence.

Sometimes it doesn't take much to make me happy. ;)

On Children

There is a lot of debate over why people choose to become parents. For some people, I guess it's a source of great indecision, but I always knew I wanted kids. I married a man who prefers not to overthink these things. We did wait until the Chad felt "ready" enough, but having our son 2+ years ago was undoubtedly the best thing we ever did together.

Parenthood is currently the subject of a great deal of discussion. My feeling is that putting too much thought into parenthood is dangerous ground; if it was possible to fully appreciate the magnitude of life changes that occur when you become a parent, nobody in their right mind would have kids. But on the flip side, the rewards are enormous. It's just that you have to focus on those rewards, and not on the sacrifices. (Which means that it's not really any different from anything else.)

The sacrifices that seem so great really don't hurt like you think they would. Yes, I miss sleeping in. Some mornings I miss it intensely. But getting up with my kid is so much better than getting up without him, there's no comparison. Watching him put deodorant on his tummy while we get ready in the morning is the highlight of my day.

There are lots of reasons to stay child-free, and I would never, ever push someone to have kids against their will. But I had mine for two big reasons:

1) As long as the human race is still around, it collectively needs people who are well-brought up. We need people with manners, education, and empathy to take care of others who might lack resources. So because I think I can do a good job (I hope!) of raising a responsible citizen, then I'll do it to the best of my ability. And, my kid needs friends, so other cool people need to have kids too.

2) Love. I love him more than I could have ever thought possible, and that love fills every corner of my life and makes it better every day.

Theatre review

When looking at the history of art, literature and theatre, one can find the most beautiful expressions of humanity, but also the morbid and most profane. We depend on artists to exorcise our darkest thoughts and our deepest fears. How can humans act so abhorrently cruel to one another? Is the dark place we all carry inside truly evil?

The Passionfool Theatre Company is currently exploring these questions through their production of Monster, by Canadian playwright Daniel MacIvor, currently running as part of the 2010 London Fringe Festival. MacIvor examines the dark side in a humorous, tongue-in-cheek way. He’s a favourite of the Passionfool Theatre Company; they performed his “Never Swim Alone” at last year’s Fringe to great acclaim. Like “Swim”, “Monster” is at times funny, poignant, and absolutely gut-wrenching.

“Monster” is a solo show featuring Justin Quesnelle, co-founder of Passionfool, who tells a story of horrifying abuse and retribution via ten different characters. How does an actor, in nondescript clothing on a minimalist set, keep an audience interested for seventy-five minutes? The answer here is to present outstanding writing with delicate, thoughtful directing, very capable stage directing, and nuanced, dynamic acting. The set is bare, the lighting subtle but potent, and the direction is minimal - Quesnelle spends most of the show standing on a box. And yet, he manages to take the audience through the full gamut of emotion; as he convincingly transitions from excited boy to nagging girlfriend to relapsing addict, the audience is by turns entertained, romanced, and horrified. This piece most definitively tests the actor’s skills; Quesnelle rises to the challenge, using his “everyman” demeanour to its best advantage as he transforms himself completely. He disarms you with wry humour, and then leaves you squirming in discomfort.

Excellent performance aside, the show could easily become a confusing jumble if not for the careful direction provided by Eva Blahut, Passionfool co-founder. The opening and closing are mesmerising, and the well-guided transitions prevent the frequent character changes from becoming predictable or confusing. Lighting is also tasteful and effective. If there is a weak link, it could perhaps be the audio; the “voice from above” is vaguely reminiscent of a PA announcement and therefore slightly jarring. But this critique is a minor complaint, barely noticeable; overall, the show is outstanding, both technically and artistically.

If you have any empathy, if you are at all interested in taking the self-reflective journey into your own deepest feelings, then this show is a must-see. As Adam says in the show, “I can feel things, but so can you. That’s why you’re here.”

 

Details:

Monster runs at the McManus Studio at the Grand Theatre, 471 Richmond Street, London, on Wednesday June 23, 6:15pm, Thursday June 24, 5:30pm, Saturday June 26, 8:30pm. Written by Daniel MacIvor, directed by Eva Blahut, performed by Justin Quesnelle. Cost: $10 plus Fringe Fest backer button ($5 one-time purchase). See www.londonfringe.ca. 

Composition

feel the heat

as anger manifests in red
 from the chest
 to the throat
 to the burning cheeks

don't move or flinch
 just sit quietly

as the dialog unfolds
 so too 

the extent of the damage

Making the best of a bad job

Yesterday on campus I walked by a young woman who was emptying lockers in the basement of the UCC. She had a spreadsheet of locker combinations and a grocery cart, and was systematically checking each one.

It occurred to me that this might be the worst job ever. Or, the most entertaining job ever, depending on what the students left behind. I guess it depends on your point of view.

(photo by KVL via Western's Flickr stream)

The most delicious cookies.

I promise that this isn't a food-centered blog; I enjoy other people's cooking, but I don't enjoy doing it myself. (And I can't watch cooking shows, because inevitably someone says, "Wow, I wish you people at home could smell this!" and that always makes me irrationally angry.)

However, I do pride myself on my baking. In my youth I worked in a bakery for a few years, and learned some skills which have since proven useful. For instance, I've learned that showing up with baked goods encourages people to like you.

I baked these cookies on Sunday. The original blog post made them sound so irresistible that, well, I simply couldn't resist making them! And I'd like to add my voice to the chorus of accolades. They are magnificent. Nothing short of all-caps MAGNIFICENT.

I thought that the brown butter would be the magic ingredient, but it turns out that the most impressive part of these cookies is the espresso powder. It transforms them from good to great - magnificent, even.

 

Boy oh boy, I sure wish you could smell how good these smell! See, isn't that annoying? I don't blame you for being annoyed. OF COURSE they smell good!

My baker's notes:

If you are cooking with brown butter for the first time, use a steel-bottomed pot over a dark-bottomed pot. You'll be able to see the butter more easily. And be prepared to let it cook for a while; if you start wondering whether you've burned it, then it's almost done. 

I used 3/4 cup of almonds instead of the walnuts and they were lovely. I don't keep walnuts on hand, since they're expensive and tend to go rancid if you don't use them promptly.

The cookies turned out a wee bit firm; this is a crunchy cookie, not a gooey cookie. But since they won't last more than a day, you don't really need to worry about them getting old and hard!

On a final note, I strongly urge you to click through and steal this recipe.

A piece is never finished

I absolutely adore this photograph. It's from the White House flickr stream and it's an image of a speech the president gave to Congress on health care in September 2009. I know this isn't breaking news - NPR blogged about it back in March - but I just think this image is so powerful, so telling.

This post isn't about partisan politics. The message in this image is that as a writer, you must edit, edit, edit. Here we have one of the most powerful political leaders on the planet about to read a speech written by one of the best writers in the country, and it's covered in a spiderweb of scrawls. 

Of course, knowing when to stop editing is another challenge. (On a related note, I'll stop tweaking now, and hit 'publish'.)

Haiku composed while peeling potatoes for tonight's dinner

Little paring knife Lost for months but found today! Glad to have you back.

Shout out

Thanks are due to my talented friend Sylvia, who graciously let me use her beautiful antique book image on this blog. You can view more of her images on her blog. http://fiveonenine.wordpress.com/