A Thought, Quartered

AFFIRMATION DEMON

Sat, 13 Jun 2026 20:39:06 GMT

ARTING NEWS:

After at least 6 months of perseveration, I fiiiiinally hit SEND on this application for an artist residency in my town. It would be a good place to start my "journey" (woo music) as an artist. They support emerging artists. They have a strong reputation for community-engaged work. They pay money (astonished face). They do a showing of the artwork in their gallery. They encourage artists to give workshops to the community and pay money for that (astonished face intensifies). And, once you have that one residency, you have something to stand on for the next residency application.

So, I have hopes. But I'm not letting them be super high hopes. But there are indeed hopes of a sort. Lil beebop hopes.

Also, an artist friend of mine was so convinced of my ability to get this residency that she literally sat next to me and would not let me get up until I had filled out the application form, and gave me all kinds of good advice about what to include and how to phrase things. It was such a boost to have someone I admire, who makes a living as an artist, commit to me like that. She's also drawn up a list of other residencies I should tackle after this one. I am so grateful that I have folks who will not only love me even when I'm a dork about stuff, but take time to force me to get the heck ooooover myseeeeeelfffff! Even if I don't get the residency, I have that to pull out and gaze at in dark moments.

ION, I did a couple of workshops at a local festival at the end of May and both went really well. One was for professional dancers and the other for general community members. The second was so fun. I had 15 people looking at a button for 90 minutes. It was a riot. So many stories and laughter and deep thoughts all elicited by an act of collective attentiveness. 10/10 would do again.

IN CRINGY NEWS:

I also had the ceremony for my Professor Emerita. I didn't know they were going to read a citation and make me go up on stage and stuff, so that was kinda weird and cringy, but it was nice, too, to be recognized. I'm very, very glad to be retired, but I'm also very, very glad that I got to do that job and to be witness to all the thousands of students I have taught who grew and shook out the foil of their wings and lifted off to all the points of the map to be growned-up people. Plus, the Emerita title will look good on the grant applications when I'm listed as faculty for the dance company's new artist education program. I'm happy to snurch a little legitimacy from the Venerable if I can put it to good use.

IN NAVEL-GAZING NEWS, a few things have occurred to me lately. One is that I am very content when I'm reading a book or drawing or at the gym and I am almost never very happy when I'm engaging with social media and I am more and more convinced that I could be very happy never looking at it again (here being the obvious exception. ILU gaiz). I am drawing closer and closer to being a troll in the woods who only talks to people face to face and engages in the ancient practice of letter-writing. I still text my pals every day over breakfast, but, dang, I am *whooshing sound of me exiting the cybersphere* This is problematic given my attempts at establishing myself as an artist, but, since I don't have to be a publicly known artist, I have the luxury of putting my mental health first.

Another thing I realized is that I have metabolized all my fucks into find outs. Nobody is adjudicating me anymore. I can call bullshit if I want to.

IN SEKRIT BADASSERY NEWS:

Some of this is just my true swamp hag persona emerging from the background noise of Other People's Expectations, and some of it is a consequence of BOXING and Becoming a Sekrit Badass. I mean, friends, I have muscles on my shins. ON. MY. SHINS. I did not know it was possible to have muscles on my shins. I can power through four hours of boxing and HIIT in a week and throw in an hour of weights and I am only 80% in apocalyptic pain after. I'm doing two hours of technique classes per week now and that is making eeeeeverything better. I never feel as good and confident and powerful as I do at the boxing gym. I walk around, going to the grocery store and picking up prescriptions and taking the dog to the vet and nobody knows that I have a truly wicked one-two-hook-right. It makes me *proudface* when I see so many women leaving that gym so strong and capable and able to focus and persevere, a sekrit army of everyday Valkyries. It is SO HARD to do, this boxing thing, and every time I get through a class I want to roar. It makes me super happy to wrestle my demons and win for a change. Also, I got proper boxing boots and they are hawt.

IODN (In Other Demon News):

The other night around midnight my computer turned on all by itself and freaked me ouuuuuut. A friend noted the next day that she doubted that a ghost would use my computer for malicious purposes and I observed that even if it typed "YOUR SHIRT IS CUTE" it would not be less creepy. The upshot is that we have now launched into a thing we call "AFFIRMATION DEMON" and send each other "you go gurl"s in creepy fonts. It is delightful. Affirmation demon. A thing whose time has come.

Speaking of demons:

AN AUDIODRAMA RECOMMENDATION: I just started listening to "Two Thousand and Late (How to Procrastinate the End of the World)" about a woman who gets possessed by a demon (who was supposed to do it on her 16th birthday but was late and came when she was 37 and now she really does not have time for this shizzle). The demon sounds like a New England socialite of the 1940s. It makes me laugh. I don't know where it's going, but it seems to have fun getting there.

I am also still enjoying listening to Nathan Fillion and Alan Tudyk be genuine weirdos on their podcast, "Once We Were Spacemen." Sometimes they have guests and sometimes Nathan just gives Alan quizzes from Elle magazine. They have a "Let's Get To Know You Better" segment where they tell each other little things about themselves and that gets very weird sometimes. Like, Alan Tudyk really really hates the guys who come round with the parmesan cheese in restaurants, and also cannot resist driving over traffic cones. Also, so many of his stories involve crime-adjacent activities. His comedy floats on a dark tide of childhood oddity and delinquency. It is all very wholesome somehow and makes me smile.

In conclusion, someone I know and love said to me yesterday, while I was eating no less, "Elon Musk became a trillionaire today," and that, my fellow babies, is some bullshit right there.

We're grinding through it all, friends, and sending out sparks of beauty.

Peace out.
*exit, spitting nails and affirmations*

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Stargate, buh-byeeeee

Sat, 06 Jun 2026 16:42:58 GMT

The new Stargate cancelled before it even got off the table. Boo.

I wish we could have nice things.

I don't know if it would have been good, but it was nice to have something potentially tasty to snack on at the ongoing dumpster fire that is *waves at everything*

Boooooooo, Amazon. Why you gotta be such a ... oright: capitalism.

Just give the project to David Hewlett and he'll wrangle up some weird indy funders and shoot it in his backyard.

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Dubious pursuit

Fri, 17 Apr 2026 22:17:38 GMT

I have spent the morning faffing about on my dumb scifi story and it was a nice time of moving commas here and there and adding exposition and whatnot, but I still have no idea if this story--topping out at an inconvenient 16,000w--makes any sense or has a point at all.

It's been a while since I invested this much time on what could very well be a lost cause. I'm trying to keep myself in the zone of just enjoying the exercise instead of fretting over whether the product is worth the pixels. I haven't submitted anything for publication for over, jeepers,18 months, maybe? And I can guarantee that this thing of darkness isn't exactly clamouring for the daylight, but I've never been one for drawer-works, so I suppose I'll let it compost for a bit and then poke around to find someplace that accepts stories that are too long to be short and too short to be novellas.

It is nice, all that said, to just let a story unfold itself without any concern for whether it's gonna fit some publishable niche. Now that my writing is not tied to the publish-or-perish productivity machine, it feels luxurious to labour away at dubious pursuits.

In the process of scrounging through my catalogue of published and pending stories, I have discovered that I sure write a lot about people negotiating altered mental states, which does not produce straightforward narratives. So, this weird thing is par for the course, I guess. This is all a propos of me trying to convince myself that wasting time is not the crime I used to believe it to be. The altered mental state I'm negotiating now is retirement, I guess. I was very curious to see what happened to my mental relationship to creativity once it was not subject to bean-counting and perpetual justification of my professional existence. Results pending. But this dumb scifi story, as dubious as it may be, feels like a step in the right direction.

*pats the dumb story* There, there, smelly cat. ILU.

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The Joy(s)

Wed, 15 Apr 2026 23:35:47 GMT

Okay so a few things:

1. Save the Stars: I went to see Project Hail Mary and it was AMAZE AMAZE AMAZE. So much so that, when I was in Calgary last weekend, I spent a truly horrifying amount of money to take an uber to a good theatre to watch it on a proper screen and I loved it EVEN MORE. Thank you, movie, for making me happy. I have since gone down a Ryan Gosling rabbit hole and have decided that boy's got chops.

2. Losing but Happy About It: I went last weekend to Calgary for the Canadian Folk Music Awards where I was a finalist for the "Album Art of the Year" award. I did not win, but, honestly, the woman who did win was so good that I would've been mad if I had. I bought one of her pieces. And the concert was SO GOOD. They did 4 nights of concerts and my award was in the one featuring fusion and "envelop pushing" music. I got to see an improvisational band featuring Chinese, Balkan, Quebecois and Latin musicians and instruments, music in all sorts of languages, and it was really fun. Unfortunately, they didn't put the order of the awards in the program so I was on tenterhooks for the whole first half and had to take nitro from the excitement. It seems like a really warm and welcoming community, so I hope that Sig and I can go back when he's retired so we can just enjoy the event without the looming nervousness of being nominated.

3. Do Not Use The Elevators Except for Pitches: I also got to experience being hollered out of bed at 2:30 in the morning for a fire in the hotel. Super fun. Hung out on the sidewalk for an hour with a woman who brought her computers but forgot her glasses, which spawned a mental romcom about a woman in high-stakes corporate programming who loses her glasses and gets paired up with the hapless nephew of the CEO to help her with her presentation. Hijinks ensue. I'm gonna call it "Seeing Eye Babe."

4. MOON JOY: Before the concert/awards ceremony I sat with my friend in the Keg and watched the Artemis II splashdown on my phone, and then on the shuttle to the ceremony, a whole bunch of folks were watching, all gathered around various devices and weeping and cheering. It was so wholesome and true and delightful. COPY MOON JOY! I love that whole mission and the message it sends that doing hard things can be joyous. The astronauts' press conference afterward made my heart grow three sizes. There is so much fuckery in this world and it is such a relief to see a different story about how we can be together. Between that and Project Hail Mary, I have so much space!joy! So much public weeping from me that weekend omg.

5. It May Be Shitty But There's Lots of It: I finished a shitty first draft of my dumb scifi story! 15,000 words. Is it good? I have no idea! Is it something that I managed to finish even though it was like dragging a queen-sized futon up 6 flights of stairs? Yes!

6. Boxers, Brief: I know 6 kinds of hooks now (well, three kinds x head and body shots). Yes, I signed up for an additional boxing course--this one focusing on technique, not just HIIT. I love the boring part of learning something. Repeat repeat repeat! I did a portrait of my coach and my friend blabbed about it so I had to show him and he got totally teary and hugged me. It was sweet. I like how this gym is dudebro free. The coaches had one of the women who is an artist paint giant wings on the wall so that we can get our photos taken there. They do such good work helping this army of middle aged women live into our Valkyrie selves. I've never felt happier more consistently than I do at that place.

Aaaand, that's all for now. Catcha onna flipside!
Peace out, fellow babies!

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Adventures in nostalgic and off-puttimg cookery

Fri, 20 Mar 2026 21:18:55 GMT

So, when I got married maaaany years ago, my mom typed up all the family recipes and put them in a duotang. Now I'm retired I thought I should dig into that collection. It's been a bit of a trip, both in terms of nostalgia for the rare treats we had as kids (Yum Yum Gems and Gramma's Hermits and basically anything Depression-era that you can make with lard), and for the unsettling brush with the casual racism of early-mid-century aspiring or erstwhile middle-classdom. (My family yo-yo'd through prosperity and penury but never lost their bead on the staunchly respectable middle)

I am currently attempting to make something horridly called "Chocolate Indians," 😬 mostly out of perverse curiosity and what I have on hand (going against type it doesn't require lard) because, other than a list of ingredients, it includes only this in the instruction section: "I don't remember what to do with them."

This whole recipe is at once outrageously inappropriate and an act of unintentional historical satire.

I think this is meant to produce something like brownies, maybe? All I know for SURE is that I'm changing the name.

Okay. I did it. It's kind of like a sad person's brownie? Like, if you want something dry and sweetish that is adjacent to but not at all chocolate brownies?

I would call this "wistful for the rich kid's lunch."

Maybe mom and I differ on our interpretation of "two squares" of chocolate. I put in four squares but maybe she meant like 2 whole packages of chocolate. Or maybe it's just meant to be disappointing. Like a life lesson.

I think I'llchop this up and use it as a crumble on something more like a treat and less like penance for mid-level sins. I wonder if I could put it in a real low oven and turn it into a sort of biscotto? But I already cut it into squares. Like sad trombone croutons.

Also, there's a whole section in the book of "Uncooked" treats with the usuals like chocolate nut clusters, and an ALARMING number of recipes that call for eggs.

How did I survive childhood, is what I'm asking.

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Mon, 09 Mar 2026 01:38:45 GMT

Y'all, I spent most of the day writing a weirdass sci fi story and it has been months since I worked on a story and I am verreh happeh.

February kicked my aaaaaaaaass in good and bad ways. For EG:
Good: did a fun performance, saw my costume pieces work beautifully in a performance;
Bad: a fun trip to the ER for heart shenanigans, more fun tests for heart shenanigans, many long days in bed contemplating mortality etc etc., sprained my ankle. Canon typical body horror and whatnot (I.e. crone bonez)

Saw a brilliant ballet production of Macbeth last night.

Opened 6 WIPs, each one more weird than the last. "HMMM, what is this file called BRAIN PANCAKE? Oh. Oh, okay" *closes file* Sal is gonna finish some shizzle, y'all. Striking the writer while she's hot an all that jazz.

A better post pending a real laptop. This window is soooo teeeeeeny and my fingers are sooooo huuge.

Peace out, fellow babies.

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come at me, bro

Fri, 13 Feb 2026 18:28:03 GMT

Hi hi hi!

First of all, this week's Starfleet Academy is very tense and exciting and I'm enjoying that show way more than I thought I would and Holly Hunter is awesome and they are building up a great grudge match with the Bad Guy. If you are watching, please feel free to talk to me about it.

Second of all, this weekend I get to hand off the headpiece and do final mods on the masks for the dance production and, whew, am I glad because that has been hanging over my head way too long. Fingers crossed and touching wood etc. etc. that the choreographer is okay with it all, because I am out of ideas. I also got called up from the minor league to play with real artists in this performance thing at the end of the month--it's dance and life drawing, I dunno--and so far have been able to make none of the prep dates because everything always happens in the same 2 hours of the week. Y'all know there are other hours, right? Also, heart stuff has kept me out of the game for too long.

Third, our renos are starting Monday and I have to sort through SO MUCH STUFF that I haven't looked at in ages but saved for reasons. I have so many piles going--trash, consignment, antiques place, Value Village--that I might as well have no piles going. I take things out of drawers, sort them into piles and then put them back in drawers because they were in those drawers in the first place because I had nowhere else to put them. We'll be displaced to the living room for two weeks. Like camping! Fun!

Fourth, water situation is the same but we have booked the company that is going to fix it when the ground thaws. That's good. Four more months of showering at the Y.

Finally, heart issues update in case anyone's playing along:
( Mortal coil )

The other night I had this spooky dream that I couldn't get the door locked and this man out on the street noticed and came across the street toward me and I was frantically trying to lock the door but it wouldn't lock and he smiled and had SO MANY TEETH and I was so scared and mad about him and his stupid demon teeth that I GREW SABRE TEETH AND ATE HIM. I woke up thinking, ha, come at me, muthafukkah. And you know what? RAAAAAAAAR! Just, damn RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAR!

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The state of the Sal

Wed, 04 Feb 2026 17:32:00 GMT

Last night I was doing a crossword puzzle and suddenly just made a sad sound. Sig said, "Wow, that was a sad sound!" and I just waved my hand in the air. "Oh," he said, "yeah, okay." I have reached the spontaneous keening era of late-stage capitalist klepto-technocracy.

And I took melatonin and it gave me such wild dreams. A dog kept following me around saying ,in a sad little voice, "Have you seen Jenny? Jennnnyyyyyy! Where's Jenny?" I had to wake up because I couldn't take it any more.

However, the sun is shining, there are whales in the sky, Luna's going for a haircut, and I've been awake for 45 minutes without chest pain. Plus, I got a great shower at the gym yesterday, got new physio exercises for my wrists, and I'm thisclose to finishing this headpiece I've already been paid for and needs to be stage ready next week.

So I have hope that the day will swing upward.

I was sad that my audio drama creator hero doesn't like the new Star Treks, but I do love them, so I will carry on loving them and looking forward to them. I thought last weeks Academy had some good exploring of masculinity and mentorship and good faith negotiation of the messiness of both.

Peace out, fellow babies.

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Second verse same as the first

Mon, 02 Feb 2026 23:55:15 GMT

Another day, another unstable angina episode, which I am going to call going forward, "My Spells." Oh, she's just having one of her spells. The ER doc told me I didn't have to come in again unless they go on for several days or escalate a lot, so it's all about the lying in bed feeling sorry for myself, I guess, while repeat dialling my GP to get a follow-up appointment. And not letting myself catastrophize and have morbid fantasies.

So, I'm watching season 6 of Face Off for the 5th time and sipping tea and la la la-ing my brain.

Dang, I wish I could have a bath.

On the upside, we may have a solution for the dry well problem that might not involve having to dig a new well and would still allow us to get our water from our own property. The guy's coming out on the weekend to scope it out.

So, a couple reasons for crossing fingers up in Sal-land. If you have any spare vibes to shoot this way, I wouldn't dodge them.

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Some additional content on my website

Mon, 02 Feb 2026 19:43:32 GMT

ETA: audio files fixed now!

So, I finally put on my big girl pants and started applying for artist residencies. Because of that, I made a page for my current big project, Walter Fernough and the Skywhales, that includes an excerpt, an audio reading and some artwork. I'm hoping that the page will give adjudicators some clue as to what the heck I'm on about when I ask them to let me work in their wet factories.

I also found a little audio recording of a fable I wrote for lamentables a while back and decided to pop it up on the ol' blog, too, along with the transcript. The Sublimation of Sheep was a response to one of her Photos-of-the-day.

I think I'm going to post some more of my fiction on the site. It's a no-no to do it, if you want ever to submit the stories to a magazine or whatever, since they like unpublished stuff usually, but these things are just languishing in my writing folder and, heck, it's not like I'm trying to build a CV anymore.

Plus, I have this one story that I really like that got caught in the mess of a well-meaning but fly-by-night publisher who has dropped off the map. I *think* it came out in their anthology--it's listed on their website--but I never received the copy I ordered and they have stopped returning emails. Upshot being that I can't really submit it elsewhere as I can't claim it's *not* previously published, even though I have no idea if it ever was. Same goes for a second story I sent them. Both of these stories were ones I really liked. So, maybe I'll post those on my blog, too.

I know publishing is crucial for writers, and that magazines and journals are doing hero's work making spaces for creatives to express themselves, and that stories are what we are, so I'm not saying it's not worth it, just that, for me, it's not an important goal. I guess the thing is that I don't get a thrill out of publishing or the process of submitting, and now that I'm not a prof labouring under the publish-or-perish mandate, I feel zero pressure to do those parts that don't give me any joy or satisfaction. I just like to write and record things. *shrug*

My attitude to all of this may change drastically once I settle more into retirement and get over the deep donwanna. But just now, I just want to make stuff and stop worrying about whether there's an audience for it. That kind of worry just tends to short-circuit the creative process, anyway.

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Remember Piggy Petit Fours

Mon, 02 Feb 2026 00:25:08 GMT

This weird little audio piece came from an image prompt over on the Midnight Burger Discord. The link goes to my website blog. A transcript is included but I recommend listening to the audio first for reasons. It's just a quick and dirty recording on my phone.

Remember Piggy Petit Fours?

The super cool thing is that Joe Fisher, the creator, writer and one of the cast of Midnight Burger (which is an amazing science fiction audio drama and he is so, so smart and I loff him) commented on this little story over on the Discord and said it was "really cool!" and he very rarely comments. I am quite squeeful about that.

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One step back

Sun, 01 Feb 2026 22:31:26 GMT

I'm just getting up after a long night at the Emergency Room for unstable angina. 0/10 do not recommend. Except all the nurses were lovely and they gave me a warm blankie and Sig and I played word games for 6 hours. He's gone back to bed which is unprecedented. I have to say that the trip in to the ER (30 min drive on the icy roads) was the scaredest I've been since before the stents. I seriously considered telling Sig to pull over and call 911 because I was gonna pass out. But we made it and, by the time I was taken back and allowed to lie down, I was already starting to feel better.

I'm okay and will only have to go back in, they say, if it really escalates or really doesn't settle itself. I'm on the one step back bit of this dance, I guess. No boxing for me this week, tho, which will blow bc I love boxing. Anyway, that's the sitch.

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Water Water everywhere

Wed, 28 Jan 2026 19:08:00 GMT

and none of it in here.

So, updates on the whole water debacle. It's definitely an upside/downside situation.

( Let's play Upside/Downside )

Downside: the Slow Apocalypse is boring and would make a terrible movie.

Upside: I'm am learning a LOT about not taking the amenities of a middle-class lifestyle for granted. There are lots of people who are waaaaaay less water-secure than I am and who are waaaaaay less capable of absorbing the added expense. I'm actually feeling really lucky in this situation, as sucky as it is.

Upside: Sig and I actually make a good team when it comes to problem-solving, and we started out life in a lot of financial insecurity and are both feeling simultaneously the pinch of this (there goes our nest-egg) and an awareness of our privilege and capacity to work through it together. In a weird way, it's kind of nice? We haven't had to exercise our teamwork muscles in a long time and it feels good to be in the traces with him.

Also, it is good to have two people so that at least one of us isn't crying at any given time.

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Sure. Okay. Why not this now?

Tue, 27 Jan 2026 22:41:11 GMT

Ha! So our well--literal well--is dry and we're on water rations until the ground thaws and we can pour our entire savings down a new well. This is fine. At least we still have electricity and intern--

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Blog post: Gardening in the Rubble

Mon, 26 Jan 2026 20:19:32 GMT

I made a blog post on my art site because I'm seeing such disorientation in my socials about how people keep doing normal life when the world is on fire. This is my manifesto and I've said it in various ways for a long time.

Gardening in the Rubble

I hope it makes somebody feel better.

Peace out.
xoxo

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La la la la oh jeez la la la

Sat, 24 Jan 2026 23:42:53 GMT

In the absence of adequate words to express my rage and fear about what is going on in Canada's basement, I will do this little post.

This little post says that I have found the overlap between fic writers and boxing coaches.

When you say, "Omg, that made me cry/broke my brain/made me want my mommy!" they both say, "Thanks! I'm glad you liked it!"

Also, I am very much enjoying Star Trek Academy. Jett Reno is my favourite and I would watch her and Lura pretend to oppose shenanigans all day.

Also, take care out there, my friends. The world is, as Seth Meyers wisely observed, 'a cocaine snowglobe."

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I'm not qitting; I'm... yes, temporarily lying down

Fri, 16 Jan 2026 21:48:45 GMT

Augh. Had to bail halfway through my boxing class yesterday because of chest pains. Nitro, a kerfuffle of concern from the coach. Agh. So bummed out. Slept 12 hours, mostly from sheer bummedness. Nothing like lolling on the sidelines while the coach gives a stirring speech about never giving up. [cringe] The road to rehabilitation is long, y'all, and it never lets you get too cocky. 😣

I'm giving myself one day of wallowing in woe and then back at it tomorrow. At least this tine round I *know* I *can* get to the good place I was in before the holidays--I did it before. So much of rehab is gaming my own brain. I just don't want anybody telling me that the answer is to quit boxing because that is a non-starter!

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Francais non non! And other digital non-adventures

Mon, 12 Jan 2026 20:48:21 GMT

Ahaaaaahaaaa omg. Okay, I managed to turn the All-French All-the-Time scenario in my Crave TV account back to English and can watch The Pitt (1). How I managed to do this? By doing the thing I already did but with assertiveness in my clicky-finger?

WHO KNOWS.

It was probably the way I aligned my remote control with the ley lines or something.

We live in the mystery.

Ohm et cetera.

Iz verreh zen.

After several tries over several months, I also managed to fill out my claim form for the Anthropic AI scraping class action suit. They scraped one of my academic publications to train their shitty bot. Choke on my jargon. Choke on iiiiiiitttttt! Also, give me my dang $3000 USD. It will not stem the tide of enshittification, but it will buy momma a new tinfoil hat.

My colleague had to teach today even though the internet was down on campus. Ah, thought I, how peaceful. How quiet. How perfect. I get kind of het up when I hear about things happening on campus. And then I remember I'm retired and stop caring. I didn't open my laptop for 6 weeks. Like, did not even open it. It had dust on it when I went to get it. I look at nice things on my phone: texts from my humans on the daily etc. But otherwise nada. I sort of feel like I'm getting back into writing brain after being in arting brain for the last few months so here I am on teh interwebs, but I have deep nah, don't think so for my laptop and the kind of work I need a laptop to do. I scribble in notebooks now. I need an amanuensis. Maybe I can get a grant.

Sometimes I think about how nice and quiet it is without the world shouting in my face all the time. I could get used to this. Also, there's really nothing stopping Elon Musk (2) from turning off my internet. Good thing I kept those paper cheque books. Who's laughing now!? *chuckles in Luddite* *buries doubloons in the back yard*

(1) But, to be fair, I don't understand most of what they say on The Pitt when it's ostensibly in English. It's basically Geordie LaForge to me. Push IV ringers lactate and rotate the sevium to oblate the restivate reaction then pack and transfer to RSAT for upholsteryotemy. Ay, Captain. *wiggles the red pulsing thing until it pulses differently, and aligns the nacelles with ley lines* *snaps off gloves and purells* What's next? Drama. *hides in North 2 'til the drama is over* *Purells*

(2) Skynet--I mean StarLink--is the only option for medium-speed internet up here on the narrow part of the world where Telus has been promising high-speed optik as long as I've lived here. I think about Nellie Cambell, of the first white settlers of this area, hauling her sacks of sugar and salt by Model T down the switchbacks into Garvin's Canyon and then having to carry them up the other side because the Model T could not do the climb while loaded (who can, Amiright?) and I wonder. I wonder about my conversations I have over zoom with my collaborators for this book we're writing and how Erasmus had 700 penpals and did the invention of Humanism with a quill pen. I dunno. Things happened, once, too. Albeit slowly. But it was harder for a single dick to ruin the entire system back then. Maybe old school can be new school, if we can do our ingenuity and find ways to build human things in the world and leave the bots to chat amongst themselves. I dunno. I'm a fan of going slow. Like Gerard Manley Hopkins said, "Sheer plod makes plough-down sillion shine."

Okay, this has been your "Sal attempts to post more often" dubious use of human invention du jour.

Peace out, fellow babies.
*pokes a stick into the murky waters of the future* *wades in carefully* *pokes the stick a bit further out*

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Gaslighting, a play, or not who knowzzzzzzz

Fri, 09 Jan 2026 20:21:53 GMT

Lol. I am currently on chat with a helpdesk person because, for a mysterious reason nobody can figure out, all the content on my Crave TV account has suddenly switched to French, even though all the settings insist it is in English.
I want English, I say.

Please select English in your profile, says the service.

*I select English*
*All the shows are in French*

All the shows are in French, I say. Please change them to English.

Oh, of course, says the service, it is all in English! Here are all your shows, as you can hear, in English, your selected language! *all the shows are French* Voila! Enjoy your viewing pleeeeeaaasure!

I want to talk to a help person, say I.

Okay, I'm connecting you to a help person, says the service.

*connects me to a help person*
*We have the most generic conversation possible*
*I am not sure if this is a person I'm talking to* (I know for sure that it/they do not get my jokes AT ALL, and I am working hard to make this exchange 14% less robotic. Pearls before maybe robots or maybe not robots)

Now the "person" has bumped me up to Level 2 DUN DUN DUUUUUNNNNN

Is this Level 2 person a person? Who knows? Are you a person? AM I A PERSON?

AM I WRITING IN FRENCH RIGHT NOW?

*reality folds itself into an origami frog and hops away*

*the stage remains empty and silent except for a tiny, disembodied mechanical voice asking, "How was our service today? How was our service today? How was our service today? how wuzzurservizzztooooooodaaaaaay hwaaazurssssssssssssviccccccccce2222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222222
222222222222222222222222222222....................................................."""

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Drive by hi!

Mon, 05 Jan 2026 19:55:21 GMT

Aw dang, it's been a long time since I posted, or even dipped into my reading page. Oops. I've had lots on the go for a retired lady and am just now fiiiiiiinally settling back into my routine again.

HIghlights:

I made a blog post about a cursed peony: Peonies, Angels and Other Cursed Objects

I went to Ontario and brought my sMom home for the holidays. She was scared, having not traveled since before the pandemic and being now in need of lots of accommodation, but she did it and even made it home on her own. Here's to expanding horizons!

I developed or rather relapsed into unhinged eating habits and a lack of gym time that have left me a shadow of my former self. I have discovered that health is a drug. I had a little taste of it and now I want it all the time. Go figure.

I learned that having houseguests over the holidays is basically an endless cycle of stopping cooking for them to point them to the thing that they need that is right there, clearly visible, in front of their faces, omg.

I almost finished my commissioned mask project. I'm worried that the extreme dryness up here has caused the masks to shrink and shall be in DESPAIR if the dancers can't wear them. OMG, so much WORK went into these things. So much lost sleep and design experimentation. Please cross your fingers for me, world. I've already been paid for them so no backing out now.

I finished another painting commission and thank goodness they really like it. It was haaaaaaard because, while it was my general style, the commissioned palette (all muted neutrals and matte finishes) is so not my natural habitat. It was like trying to make a country song. Like, I know what the elements are, but have no idea of it's any good. General consensus is that it is good, but *shrug*

I've been invited to take part in a demo-workshop with some Actual Professional Real Artists. I feel like I've been called up from the minors. Please cross more fingers I don't embarrass myself and everyone around me.

AAaaand, I haven't opened my computer in at least a month, barely look at the news, heard from Sig that America is just taking over countries now and not even pretending and wow okay that's... wow. *grimaces in not-the-51st-state* I love my American friends, but on a national-global scale, it is not okay being America's "best friend" these days. Stay safe, my wonderful folks. Please don't let the gorilla invade my country, 'kay?

And that aside (ha, omg *sob*), I hope everyone had a safe holiday season, or end of 2025 if you don't celebrate. I will be catching up with y'all on my reading page forthwith.

May 2026 sit quietly in the corner with its juicebox and eat its cookie, amen.

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Thrifting

Sat, 13 Dec 2025 01:25:28 GMT

Man, I cleaned up thrifting today. I got some Clark tall dress boots for $35, almost brand new. And a legit vintage knee-length fully lined, A-line wool coat with an adorable fur collar. The fur collar will have to go, natch, and be replaced with faux fur or some beautiful brocade off-cuts, so I can keep the lovely 50s-retro feel of it.

I came out modeling my vintage 30s-style velvet dress ($24) and two-tone B&W patent leather mary janes ($35) and Sig said, "Wow! You look like sixty bucks!" Because he's a wag and will sacrifice self-preservation for a gag every time.

Last week I got two never-worn, still had the tags on wool-cashmere blazers for $5 each. Five bucks.

I'm never buying anything new again.

And I finally got my hair cut back to my signature fauxhawk and no longer groan in despair when I pass a mirror--a low but important bar in hair cuts.

I'm off to Ontario on Monday to collect my sMom and bring her home for the holidays and to go to a high school reunion-ish party. Pray for me as I break my cardinal rule and fly into Toronto during the holidays. Gawd, Becky. But at least I'll have comfortable boots, all hail the consignment, hallowed be thy bargain bin.

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Sock Bunny (some OF WIP)

Thu, 27 Nov 2025 20:55:35 GMT

I had a dream the other night about an abandoned space ship and somehow that has broken my months-long writing dry spell. I'm dumping this opening bit here just to put it someplace other than my hard drive. A bit of sympathetic magic, I guess.

Also, I've been engaged in a few different conversations about worldbuilding and exposition lately, so this fragment is an experiment in that process. I honestly don't know who the characters are until I start typing, and I really love how that happens sometimes, like there's a big room full of folks and some of them step up when it's their turn or something. Writing is thinking.

Anyway, a bit of a thing I'm working on. CW for language and off-page bodily harm/aftermath:

( Sock Bunny )

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Strong like bull

Thu, 27 Nov 2025 19:55:01 GMT

( Good Health News )

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ZOMG! New Stargate Series

Wed, 19 Nov 2025 17:37:15 GMT

From Joseph Malozzi's blog: Amazon Greenlights new Stargate Series.

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RAAAAAAR!!!

Fri, 14 Nov 2025 04:37:03 GMT

YESSSSS! I DID IT! I made it through the Endgame! RAAAAAAR!!!

Okay, yes, I *did* manage to right-hook myself in the face. And yes, all and sundry had to take a beat to lose it with me laughing.

But then I did it! Little broken heart girl frickin' DID IT.

I love everyone in this bar.

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