An outing

I finished my edit and am now waiting for the arrival of a copy-edit to land on my doorstep.  Not anxiously awaiting, mind you.  I am enjoying the free time.

Don is missing all the cozy summer ambling around as he has a writing deadline looming, but luckily, Will is spending the summer at home and we have been doing all those lazy summer things that one imagines doing.  Exploring, hikes, cotton candy, bumping around town.

Tonight, David arrives for a sleepover, and one of Will’s friends might come over as well, and then tomorrow, Auntie Becky (the kid’s aunt, my sister) is coming and I am going to make a huge breakfast.  I’m thinking I’ll make delicious sticky cinnamon buns, because those are Dave’s favorites, and a batch of sausage and bacon (I bet you’re glad you aren’t here, huh Morton?  We know how you feel about pork!)  And I’ll make a big batch of scrambled eggs with several kinds of cheeses and maybe a little tomato and basil. 

It’s going to be fun.  Our little house will be stuffed full to over-flowing.  It will be nice.  Like the old days.  Big weekend breakfasts, lots of bodies tumbling into the kitchen, groggy faces and sleep-hair, sniffing hungrily at the air. 

I’ll sic Don on the cappuccino/espresso machine and maybe I’ll make some homemade hot chocolate as well.  Maybe I’ll even splurge and make a dollop of fresh whipped cream to go on the top.  Why not, we are already going to be way over our caloric intake.  Might as well make a day of it.

THEN, after we have eaten more than we should, we are going to pile into the car and drive up to some caves where we are going to go spelunking! 

I’ve never gone spelunking before.

We get to wear helmets with light strapped on to our heads.  It’s going to be dark and cold.  The cold will be a nice break from all this summer heat. 

We are going to be an adventurous cave explorers.  And if we really like it, we can sign up for the one where you are stuck in the cave for 5 hours instead of three and have to squeeze through impossibly tight cracks and rappel down rocks, and wade through underground creeks.  HA!  I just don’t see THAT happening.  I am almost 50 after all!  No rappelling for me.

Unless of course I love it, and lose all sense of reason.  Either that, or my boys really want to go and they really want me to go too, and then…well, I’d probably give it a go. 

So much for saying, no, to peer pressure.  Although, one’s children don’t really count as ones peers do they?  Aren’t peers suppose to be in the same age range?  I don’t know.  But if it was really important to them that I go, and experience rock rappelling, who knows? 

Luckily, for me, I doubt that Will would be chomping at the bit to rappel down rocks in pitch black darkness, with only a feeble light attached to the head.  I raised him way too practical for those types of shenanigans.

David however?  Well, seeing as how he is mountain biking as I type, I could see him doing the Extreme cave exploring thing, but he would probably prefer to do it with one of his extreme sports buds.  Which I, thankfully, am not.

Anyway.  That’s what we are going to do tomorrow, and then on Friday, I am off for a hiking week with my friend, Ilene, to celebrate a big birthday.

And yes, to those of you who are curious.  I am preparing just the way I do whenever I go on one of these healthy adventures.  I laze about, because I can, and I eat everything I can fit into my mouth.  It’s funny how much better things taste when one knows they will be forbidden. 

I wish Emily could come for the cave spelunking, but she has her project.  Actually, I bet she’s glad she has a real good excuse, but who knows, she might like it.  We had fun when we explored Carlsbad Caverns when we were on our road trips to and from LA when she was little.  And this is even more exciting because there are no lights and paths and things like that. 

I wonder if it’s going to be scary.  Spooky.  Bats and things fluttering about.  Eeee!  I don’t know why, I am sitting here smiling?

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, July 22, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Ahem… I’d like to extend my abject apologies

Okay, I’m not going to blog every day.  And yes, I am in the middle of an edit.  But I can’t keep my mind on it because I am consumed with guilt. 

I shouldn’t have said that the Ptolemy guy was weird.

It doesn’t matter that I was worried that my daughter wouldn’t have proper food to eat.  It doesn’t matter that I didn’t know how many foods were actually in some of those short stories. 

That is my short-coming, not his.  This is especially embarrassing, because I actually read short stories.  Tons of them.  There have been many periods in my life when I prefer short stories to novels.  And when I find an author of short stories that speaks to me, I devour whatever collections I can find. 

So, how could I have read reams and reams of short stories and not retained enough to know that there could be short stories that contain LOTS of food? 

What kind of reader must I be?  I bet a lot of the short stories I’ve already read have loads of food consumed or mentioned in them and I just don’t remember.

Now, you need to know that in our family, the calling someone weird, is not an insult.  It is more an acknowledgement of a fact.  Our family is weird.  All of us.  Some of us weirder than others.  But the Ptolemy guy doesn’t know that.  And to be truthful, I wasn’t saying he was weird in a cozy sort of way, I was worried about my daughter so I was flailing out.

Darn.  Why did I have to admit that?

I guess because if I’m going to apologize, I better do it right.  Not let myself off the hook in a half-truth.

I am sorry I leapt to judgement, Ptolemy.  I’m sorry I accidentally misspelled your name.  And then when my husband mentioned it to me, I went back and corrected it, and apparently I misspelled it again, just in a different way.  I finally got it right, but I am sorry for getting it wrong.  Twice.  And I bet that happens to you all the time, and it must get tiring.  And I’m sorry that I wondered if it was your real name or an acquired one.  That, I should have kept to myself.  And for those of you who are wondering, it is his real name.  I got it from a very good source.  My daughter who knows a friend of his. 

Not only that, but his week seems to be going WAY more smoothly than my week did.  She’s having fun, instead of spending torturous hours in the dentist’s chair.

Okay.  I’m glad I got that off my chest! 

Bye everybody.  I’m back to my edits.  And by the way, if you haven’t gone to my daughter’s site, the guy’s full name is Ptolemy Tompkins and he is an author, so if you are interested, check out his books, who knows, maybe they’ll be something you’ll want to buy.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Saturday, July 18, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Emily’s first week down, fifty-one more to go

Well, my week planning my daughter’s schedule is over.  And I find I am both relived and wistful all at the same time.  I’m glad that it went relatively smoothly.  Ahem… if one doesn’t count a late evening visit to ER, a cut foot, an hour dentist appointment morphing into 8 hours of terror, anxiety and tears, staggering around town drugged out on some kind of tranquilizer the dentist gave her, putting Emily at risk for God knows what. 

BUT other than that, it was a pretty happy, good experience.  I’m really glad I did it.  Really glad.

ALTHOUGH, there is this,(and excuse me Ptolemy, if you happen to read this, but I am her mother, and really!) weird guy, Ptolemy (is that his real name?  Or an acquired one?)  Who is requiring Emily to only eat the foods found in a short story by… Oh god, it’s too complicated to describe.  You’ll have to go to her site and read it for yourself. 

How he came up with such a scheme?  I have no idea.

When I read it, my stomach dropped.  I thought, “The authors he’s mentioned don’t write cookbooks for crying out loud!“  I was worried that Emily was going to starve!  But then I reminded myself that on the eve of starting her Ptolemy madness, I treated her to a seafood feast, so even if all she could find mention of was a crust of dry bread in her short story, at least she would have a nice store of food in her belly from the night before, and starvation was impossible in two days time. 

After I calmed down from my panic, the whole week sounded rather interesting.  Sort of like a literary scavenger hunt. 

Well, I’m off to my editing.

And for those of you who are wondering.  Yes, I have written, worked way more on my manuscripts, since I have cut back on blogging so much. 

So, this is how I’m going to work it.  When I’m working on an edit, I will blog around like I am doing now.  When I dive into a new piece, I probably won’t blog at all.  When I am free and easy, and taking time off from my projects, I will blog more frequently than even you would like.  But what-the-hey, this isn’t like my daughter’s life where I was in charge of one week.  I get to tell myself what to do, blog or not blog, make plans, or cancel them whenever I damn well please!  Wheeee!

Posted by Meg Tilly on Friday, July 17, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Emily

My daughter starts her life-as-art project tomorrow.  I sent off my week’s schedule that I made for her, and a little video commentary thing that she asked me to do, as well as a bio and picture. 

I can’t believe it starts tomorrow.  Seems so weird.  She told me about the idea maybe a month and a half ago and here it is, the eve of the kick-off week. 

I’m nervous.

I hope it’s a good experience for her.

I’m eating a lot of candy to help take the edge off the nerves.  It’s a good thing candy is my vice, because otherwise they’d be having to lock me up in re-hab.

Today is her birthday, and I am being bombarded with images of Emily big and Emily small.  Her tiny hand tucked in mine.

Oh dear.  I hope that she is able to keep herself, throughout this year.  Keep herself strong, safe.  I hope that this project is something that stretches her wings and horizons rather than something that makes her need to shrink into herself.

I have hopes and I have worries.  Everybody who reads this, please send good wishes, and positive thoughts her way. 

Thanks.

Love, Meg

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, July 08, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

diverging paths

Will has graduated. 

Such a mix of feelings.

His dad here.  Past and present all jumbled together. 

And then, there is the uncertain future.  Is this the end of tea and chats and the odd-and-awkward-but-weirdly-cozy blending of lives and families?

It feels like the end of an era. 

We are pretending that it’s just another visit, but it isn’t. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, June 30, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

A busy time

We found an apartment Emily loved, so hopefully, we’ll get it.  Fingers crossed.  I meet with the agent this morning. 

I’ve been working like a dog on the copy edits I received for Gemma.

Emily leaves for the airport this morning.  It’s been so lovely having her home.  Although, this project of hers is worrying me to death.  I try not to think of all that could go wrong.  Try to think about how this could really be a wonderful thing and that it will enhance and change the way she looks at life and at the wide variety of ways to live ones life.  Sort of like when I was acting, stepping into my characters skin, in living their lives, I would learn so much about my own.

Will has his last provincial exam this morning, in history.  He has been studying for days.  Really, really studying.  On his own.  Spread out on the sofa, piles of books and papers and notes.  Out on the balcony, daylight turning to dusk.  Up in his room.  I’m really proud of the effort he’s been putting into his finals this year.  All on his own.  Self-motivated.  I hope it pays off for him today. 

Then Don and I make the trek to our new little cottage on the beach, (yes, I sold the big house) and tomorrow we meet the movers and place furniture, unpack our mountains of boxes.  I have to leave mid-afternoon to do lung tests at the hospital, and then, back again, to unpack some more.

We’ve loved living in this Coal Harbour rental, walking to restaurants, the grocery store, long walks in Stanley park.  It’s been sort of live a vacation holiday, with the Boardwalk and boats bobbing right outside our window.  It’s been lovely, but now, I have to say, I’m ready to settle, move into our home, be surrounded by familiar things, sleep in our old bed with it’s soft comfortable sheets. 

We have Will’s confirmation, grad dinner and dance, then one more week in Vancouver and then we’re done.  Home sweet home.  Hopefully.  It’s always strange, when I make a move to somewhere new, unfamiliar.  I have all these hopes and dreams of this wonderful, creative, peaceful life, but who knows how it will really turn out.  Will we have nice neighbours?  Or the neighbours from hell?  Will it be beautiful and serene, with the waves gently lapping and an occasional sea gull’s cry, or will a neighbour have a dog that barks incessantly, all day and night so that sleep and writing is impossible? 

And then, what happens if Lorri, (my Coal Harbor neighbour and actually, we’ve only known each other for around a month now, but she is starting to be a really, really good friend, and I have these cautious, shy hopes that maybe it will be one of those rare, lifelong friendships) what happens if her mad-cap scheme comes to fruition?  Then what? 

And last but not least, can’t wrap up this blog without mentioning that last week I was in London, with my sister, Jennifer, cheering her on in Wallace Shawn’s new play, Grasses of a Thousand Colors.  Jenny was MAGNIFICENT!  I was sooooooo proud to sit out there in the audience, watching her character, live and breathe up there on the stage.  Her performance moved me greatly. 

I was in London for eight days and it flew.  We had so much fun, talking and eating food and shopping and meeting her friends, and going to her play.  Being backstage with her, breathing in the particular smells that theaters have.  Puttering around town.  It was so much fun.  And sitting here, typing to you, telling you about it, I feel surrounded with the magical glow of those eight days, the cozy comfort, puttering around her apartment, making tea, the after theater snacks of tasty English treats, when she Skyped Phil and I Skyped Don and Will.  Curling up on the little makeshift bed, Jenny, Miranda and Emily had in their dressing room, that had a brightly colored coverlet with what looked like little mirrors sewn in, but they couldn’t have been because it didn’t cut me. 

Jenny wanting me to take a short nap before the play, because I was really tired, but once I lay down, I couldn’t.  I felt like a little kid, being allowed to sleep in her mothers room.  The mystery of it.  The three women talking softly, putting on their makeup, getting ready for the show.  The anticipation of the evening to come, the audience, starting to arrive, the gearing up, and tiredness too, because every night they have three hours and twenty minutes to fill, and who knows what the audience will be like this night. 

No sleep was impossible.  I didn’t want to waste a moment of the experience with sleep, and this might sound strange, but one of the things that stays in my mind, that moved me the most was when Jenny wanted to make the little bed nice for me, I started to lay down and she said, “Wait!“ took off the silk kimono, jacket she was wearing and draped it over the rather squashed white pillow that was rumpled in the corner.  “There,“ she said, smoothing it with her hands, and I have never felt quite so loved as I did in that particular moment.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, June 17, 2009 in

Emily’s craziness

Okay, now I know I said I wasn’t going to blog, but I had to share this with all of you.

My daughter, Emily has come up with a plan.  A crazy plan, that when she first told me what she was going to do, I really tried my best to talk her out of it.

No luck.

She’s going forward with it. 

Now, everybody I’ve talked about it with, thinks it’s a really interesting idea.  They, of course, are not Emily’s mother.

I could try to explain what her scheme is, but I think her website  does it better.

All you parents out there, will know just how my heart lurched when you read what she’s planning to do.  But when I stand back, away from the worry, I think it is a pretty cool idea too.

I am going to be in charge of her kick off week.  My sister, Jennifer is going to do a week and so is her kick-ass poker player boyfriend, Phil Laak.  Emily has a ton of very interesting people lined up and a few openings left. 

I’ve decided that I am going to make the best of a situation that I personally find quite scary and put my week to good purpose!  My week will probably be the week that Emily is well and truly happy to see the end of.  Be that as it may, here finally is an opportunity to schedule some of those pesky worrisome motherly things, that I am always trying to get my children to keep up with now that they have left home.  Heh…heh…heh! 

Hey, look, giving relatives, friends and total strangers the power to chose how you spend an entire week wasn’t MY idea! 

And right now, I have to say, I am feeling quite tricky.  I’ve already booked my daughter in for something on her first week that I’m sure she won’t be pleased about, but I am thrilled that this is finally going to be done.

And I’m supposed to give her a book to read during my week, and instead of a lovely, literary read, I have settled on a book, that she would NEVER read on her own, but is going to stand her in good stead, and is way more practical. 

I’m nervous about her Art As Life, but I have to say, I’m having fun figuring out how to spend her week.

Just hope she is still speaking to me by the end of it.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Saturday, June 13, 2009 in

Final posting, much love, Meg

My dear bloggers,

I have made a decision to try and cut down on my computer time.  I find I am losing more and more of my precious life hours sitting in front of this screen, either blogging or reading financial news letters, and other people’s blogs.  Then there is the regular news that gobbles up more time, and I find myself reading about really horrible things, murders and suicides, and parents killing children when what I really want to be doing is to be finding a way to feel present in my own skin. 

I don’t want to be on my death bed, my life passing before my eyes and when I come to the last eight years (around the time I got on the Internet because my daughter was heading off to University) it is one huge blur of me pecking away at my computer, while the days flipped past.

It’s weird how it started.  For years I didn’t have an email.  I didn’t have my computer hooked up to the Internet.  I only used my computer for writing.  And now look at me, a large portion of my waking hours are squandered siting in front of a glowing screen.  And I feel undone, overwhelmed, by all the horrific news out there.  I feel like I want to stay in bed and not face the day.  I feel tired, burnt out.

And so today I start the great experiment.  When Don gets home I’m going to have him disconnect the Internet from my computer.

If someone wants to get in touch with me, they will have to call.  I much prefer talking on a walk, or over tea, or a yummy meal.  I even would rather talk on the telephone.  I shall check my email from Don’s computer on Sundays.  And if I decide to do a reading or something, I will post it on my events page at that time, but other than that, I’m going to hold off. 

I want to thank all of you who have come to visit with me.  I’ve really, really enjoyed it.  And am very touched by the enormous number of people who have taken a moment out of their day to share this last year and four months with me.  I have loved blogging.  It has made me feel not so alone in the world.  Like there is a whole cozy world of blog out there that I feel connected to.  Strangers who come to my readings and I can tell by the light in their eyes when they walk up to me, that they have read my blog, because they approach me like a friend.  Not a thing. 

Blogging has been a great gift for me.  I feel known by you.  I thank you for that.  And even though I won’t be writing on my blog, please know that I hold you in my heart and will always treasure this time that we’ve shared.  The midnight wakings, me creeping downstairs, turning on my computer and writing my thoughts to you.  The bluish glow of the computer screen, making a small halo of light in all the darkness of the house. 

Now I’m going to move on, unclench the tight grip this computer has over me and try to rediscover and enjoy other aspects of my life.  Things that I have let fall by the wayside.

It is time for me to simplify. 

Much love and affection, Meg xo

Posted by Meg Tilly on Saturday, January 31, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Why have I not blogged?

You might be asking.  I wish I had a really good excuse, like the novel writing muse struck and struck hard, but no.

Then what could possibly be interesting and important enough to wrench you away from your computer?

I’ve been…ahem… having fun with my new coin counting machine that I bought at Staples. Yes, I know that doesn’t sound so riveting but let me tell you, Will and I are really enjoying ourselves. 

It started out as one of those gotta-do-chores, but once I figured out the little plastic Ultrasorter and the little paper wrappers and so forth, it’s amazing how it passes time.  And even more amazing is how much money Don had managed over the last four years to dump out of his pockets into a white plastic bucket sitting by his desk.  A TON!

It’s been two days of sorting and I’m still not done and Will and I have sorted and sealed over ONE THOUSAND FOUR HUNDRED DOLLARS!  And I’m not even done yet.  My arms are actually sore from lifting all that change. 

“Yes,“ I say, “This is how one gets in shape for the grueling Spa week to come.  One sorts coins.  Strengthens the biceps etc.“  I’d be better served by getting on the cross-trainer.

I’ve also been busy, helping Don get ready for his first public appearance as an author.  He is nervous and I’m…

Well, sometimes I’m soothing, but sometimes no, because he asked me to help him with his presentation, and being soothing all the time, is not very helpful

I’m sure Don would say that I was “soothing” maybe one-half a percent of the time, but when he comes home on Saturday, all triumphant, he’s going to give me a big kiss and thank me for all the help I gave him and say, “Honey, I never could have done it without you.“  And he won’t remember the non-soothing times.

So, what I’ve been doing, along with all the other regular day-to-day stuff.  Hence a few skipped blogs. 

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, January 29, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

If you want to truly scare yourself…

Go to Bennet Sedacca site and read his article Cast Your Vote, Recession or Depression

Reading what he has to say, looking at the accompanying charts, the word that comes to mind is YIKES!

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, January 27, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

A morning walk

I just got back from a great morning walk with Ki______n.  We looped up and around and back again, weaving our way through all the back streets of our neighbourhood.  Places and streets I didn’t even know existed. Made our way down to the beach, with it’s arbutus and cedar trees, Ki____n leading the way, up and over large grey rock, leaping over glossy patches of black ice.  It was really lovely.  Invigorating. 

Bright sunshine ricocheting off the water, making my eyes squint even with my sunglasses on. 

It was a good workout.  Ki_____n’s back is out, but you’d never know it by the strength and length of her stride, not to mention her kick-ass pace. 

I kept up however, so I was proud of myself.  Was even able to carry on a conversation. 

That woman is super-fit, let me tell you.  And I’ll bet that even with us going a super workout clip, that she could have doubled the speed and still would have been fine.

Anyway, the weather report is that we are expecting snow tonight, which makes me doubly glad we got out today. 

My skin is still tingling from being in the outside air.  It’s like an all over gling feeling.  Like something exciting is going to happen.  My outside skin is cool too, I can feel my inside body blood rushing to the surface to help bring everything back to the same temperature.

Lovely, lovely.  I’m so glad she emailed this morning to see if I wanted to go for a walk.  Spur of the moment.  I’m so glad I said yes, even though it was cold.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, January 26, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

A Happy Morning Surprise!

My sister, Jenny, did a really, really nice thing for our whole family a few weeks ago and I didn’t know about it because it’s been a very long time since I’ve hauled my sorry butt to the post office.  And let me say this, I am VERY excited and know EXACTLY what I am going to do with said gift.

I am going to use it to join Jenny on a girl’s week away!  And guess what?  We are going to leave in exactly ONE WEEK.

What a splurge!  And honestly, something I wouldn’t have felt comfortable doing using the family expenses money at this time.

A week with my sister, getting in shape, hiking, talking, walking the labyrinth.  What an unexpected luxury.  I feel very lucky.

Thank you, Jenny. xo

Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, January 25, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

A taste of what’s to come

Don’s away and I just dropped Will off at a friend’s house.

I used to like driving at night.  I could see well in the dark.  Not anymore.  I don’t find night driving restful at all.  I wonder if it’s going to get even worse as the years pass.  Will I someday be unable to do any night driving at all. 

My mother can’t.  I used to think she had just gotten timid as she aged, but now I know that it was her eyes that aged, not her spirit. 

Or maybe it did too.  Maybe mine is as well. 

As I was tearing along the freeway, headlights on, peering into the inky darkness, a slight taste of apprehension and fear in the back of my throat, I was thinking to myself, I would only do this for one of my kids.  Driving to an unknown address at a time of night when I am generally tucked cozy in the house and flirting with the idea of going to bed.

But, I’m back.  Safe and sound.  Nothing untoward happened.

God, the house is quiet.  Both dogs asleep on the rug in the hall.  Just far enough away that I can’t even hear the gentle snuffles and grunts of their sleep breath.

This house is way too big. 

I had lunch with Ki______n yesterday.  “Your house is nice but it feels like you haven’t moved in.  There is none of that clutter, personal touches,“ she said.  And it surprised me.  Her forthrightness.  But even though it kind of embarrassed me, I had to admit was true as well.  I haven’t moved in here.  It doesn’t feel like mine.  It feels like somebody’s house that I am visiting.  A nice house, but nothing to do with me.  Even more so, I suppose, since last year, around this time, when I shipped most of the furniture that I had collected over the last 15 years to someone who needed it more than I did. 

My old-time bloggers know what I’m talking about. 

It was hard at the time.  Hurt like hell, but now, I look back and really, it was a gift.  The act of that set me free in a way that nothing else could have done.  Don and I got busy, used our writing money, refurnished the house.  Nice squishy sofas, new tables, new chairs, paintings.  But is there a connection?  Some yes, but to most of it, no. 

And when I sell this house, I will donate most of it, give it away.  Take only what the heart wants.  What will fit in the new place.  The smaller place that we won’t rattle around in like yesterday’s memories.

I am not looking forward to all of the work.  I am looking forward to having done it.  To the time when the downsizing will be completed and we will be tucked away in our cozy little house, with it’s postage stamp lawn and the water lapping at our feet. 

I can hardly wait until the work and worry of it is done and there is nothing left to do but write if I want to, eat cozy food, take long walks and enjoy.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Friday, January 23, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

Not everyone was fooled

Check out my daughter’s blog.  I think she sums the whole BB thing up quite succinctly.  I have no bad feeling towards any of the participants in said movie, but 13 nominations?  Hmm… interesting.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, January 22, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

I WROTE!

I actually wrote!  I got back in.  I dove in with both fists, threw out the last few chapters where I started going in the wrong direction and have started the new journey. 

I am so happy.  Feel so good.  And to top it all off when I finished up the new chapter, I went on a mist-ladened walk with Karen and our dogs and talked about life and writing and woman stuff. 

Ahh… I’m back in my skin.

Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, January 20, 2009 in Chewing the Fat

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