CategoriesArchivesJanuary 2009 |
helloTo my friends in the States, Have a great Thanksgiving. For those of you who are wrestling with your first turkey, a reminder that if you click on my recipes tab, there is a step-by-step guide to stuffing and roasting a turkey, and how to roll out pie dough, make gravy and sweet potato mash recipe as well. Happy cooking! Happy eating! And all of you who aren’t participating in the cooking aspect of the dinner, make sure you pitch in with the clean up, because there will be a lot of it, and the cook’s feet will be bone tired by the end of the day! Okay, back to my writing! I just wanted to get this reminder off to those of you who are newcomers to my blog and have been offered up as the Sacrificial Thanksgiving Day Cook and don’t have the foggiest idea what to do. Follow my recipes and you’ll be fine. It seems more daunting a task than it is. You can do it. Courage! And little-grown-up Emily. So sorry that you couldn’t find somebody to watch the pets. We love you and miss you. Will’s first matinee is today. He was a little subdued at breakfast. Only managed two pancakes. Our fingers are crossed that it goes well. Dave was able to switch his work schedule so he will take the little water hopper plane after work on Friday and get here in time for the evening show and ____ has switched his flight to Saturday morning. So Friday night we’ll all be there and I’ll try to get Will to hold still for a few pictures so I can send them you. Miss you honey. Love you! xo Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, November 21, 2007 in School Library Journal!I just got an email from Pamela Osti and Porcupine has gotten a starred review in School Library Journal! Whoohooo! I never thought I’d ever get a starred review anywhere in my whole life! I knew I wrote what was in my heart. I knew that you guys out there are buying my books. But I never, ever thought that my writing would ever be accepted in that way. Never! And now look, a starred review in School Library Journal, a highly recommended in CM Magazine. I know it’s not proper to be proud and happy about this type of thing. I know it’s not good manners to dance wildly around my writing room. But what the heck? There’s no one to witness my tasteless, giddy celebration. Just you my dear bloggers. Because I’m all for showing the real me to those that care to know. Today, I revel in all my glorious imperfections. It’s way more fun this way! Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, November 20, 2007 in A little bit of this and thatHello everybody, Will might be coming down with a cold though. He wasn’t sure. Woke up foggy headed. “Stay home.“ I offered. “I can’t. We have rehearsal and tomorrow’s our first matinee.“ And I want to say, all the better a reason to stay home in bed. Save your energy. Not to mention, if you are getting a cold, you don’t want everyone else to get it. And yet, this is their last rehearsal and if he is getting a cold he probably got it from somebody in the play because that is who he spends all his time with, so they have already been exposed to the germs. Not to mention, there is no understudy. Anyway, he went off to school and I’ll just hope that he’s feeling groggy because he got to bed rather late. I thought he was already in bed, and so I didn’t give the bedtime call, but he wasn’t. Scooter just did his ferocious growl, half a bark, and trotted towards the front door. It’s funny how it’s the very same posturing that he did the other night, but with all this bright sunshine and a house full of people, it doesn’t make me feel nervous at all. I barely noticed. And certainly didn’t think it was a bad guy or a burglar or a wild cougar come to try to do damage. Hmmm…Interesting how I said “a bad guy or a burglar.“ Wouldn’t you call someone who makes their living ripping off and stealing from other people a bad guy? I guess what I mean is, stuff stolen is just stuff. I mean, it hurts your feelings and all, but it’s just stuff. But the other kind of thing. The ones that hurt your physical body and soul, for no other reason but that they can? To me, that’s a bad guy. Like Hazen Young. The big stupid jerk and pedophile that I used as a kicking off point for Hazen Wood in Gemma. BAD GUY! Glad he’s dead. Wow. I’ve really run the gambit with conversation today. Might as well spice it up with another announcement that has nothing to do with anything aforementioned. The Gemma audio downloads are going to be posted sometime today. So for those of you who were waiting to buy both for a better price, today’s the day! I’m sorry it took so long. I was busy with all the travel and then Susie was racing to get the second edition of her Blogging for Dummies to her editor before the deadline. But today, all the stars and planets and our own personal schedules aligned and so my blogging buddies…Behold, the audio version of Gemma! Click the audiobooks button, follow the instructions and Volia! You can hear me read my books how I hear them in my head. An interesting place to be, if I do say so myself. (I’m not saying you want to be there, in my head with me. You might hate it. But I’ll tell you one thing, it’s certainly not boring!) Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, November 20, 2007 in another brief Muckle updateI just lopped off another character in the book. She was there and now…poof! Gone. Interesting how that goes. I thought she was an important piece of the whole. Apparently she’s not. It’s tighter and better without her. That’s all. Back to my writing! Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, November 19, 2007 in Chewing the Fat an interesting tidbitSo…she who shall not be named must read my blog. I came back from picking up my son from rehearsal, did a couple of errands and in the amount of time I was gone, my friend had done a 180 degree turnaround. He has to be in L.A for Thanksgiving. He has to leave this Thursday. There are no flights available the day before or after so he has to leave on that particular day. (Never mind that he travels via Netjet and if you give them 48 hours notice they have to come up with a plane.) So cancel the order for the turkey, and forget about the fact that Will’s opening his play and David’s flying out to see, not only Will’s play but also ____ who won’t be here because he is scampering back to plunge himself in the midst of that ick. Whatever. He’s a grown man. I’m done worrying. Done crying. He told me. I didn’t get mad. Didn’t feel anything much. Just tired is all. Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, November 19, 2007 in A sunny Sunday morningThe sun has managed to light up the sky. For us Vancouverites this is a bright sun-filled celebration outside! To the rest of the world, if they were standing in our yard, it would probably look a little grey, overcast with the hint of a sun peering through the thick fluff of the clouds that are liberally and evenly spread across the horizon. Never mind. It’s not raining at present, there is enough light so that the trees and bushes can cast faint shadows on the ground. So it’s a sunny day to me! Sunny in many ways. When I brought my friend’s breakfast down on a tray, he said he is really happy here and is getting more and more distanced from that situation back were he was living. And that he thinks he is going to manage to break it’s hold on him. And I’m so happy. But cautious too. Because the break still hasn’t occurred. There are still phone calls and I hear of plans being made that say otherwise. I get the worried phone calls from the people in his life, the true friends that don’t want anything from him or for him but his own happiness and good health. To be able to have a few more meals, a few more good laughs, a few more adventures. The ones whose hands aren’t outstretched trying to grab, and gorge on as much as they can. The other ones. The ones with no care for him, his well being, his safety. The ones who can’t even see the sensitive person that is standing in front of them because their vision is too clouded with the greed glittering in their eyes. Shame on you! And someday you will be old and vulnerable and lonely and my God I would hate to be in your shoes, because what you’ve done will come back to you and bite you in the butt. Because Karma’s a bitch. Live with that. It’s coming. But back to pleasanter things. When Don dropped Will off for rehearsal. Actually, Will dropped himself off, because he’s learning to drive. I’ve gone through this whole, teaching your child how to drive, talk in a calm voice, try not to show when you’re scared, try to teach them all you can so they will be safe behind the wheel and Oh my god, this is happening too fast, and you’re way too young to ever drive! three times now. First with Emily, then Dave, and now little (not so little, but the image of little Will is stuck in my head) Will. And I have to say, it never gets easier! It is always hard to sit in the passenger seat while your child tries to navigate the road, freeways, parallel parking, shoulder checks, and so on. I don’t want to be melodramatic, but the word “terrifying” comes to mind. Speaking of which. I’m off. They have a shorter rehearsal today. It was only from 9-1. Oh and I almost forgot. The whole reason I was telling that Will drove to school was that when Don dropped him off, the principal (who is also in the play, and has quite a lovely singing voice,) told Don that the play is going to be really good and that Will (my chest puffs up with pride) is doing a wonderful job! 5 more days until we get to see him. I CAN HARDLY WAIT! Posted by Meg Tilly on Sunday, November 18, 2007 in tonight’s bloggereenohThe house is so quiet. Just me and the two dogs. Don made a delicious dinner, recipe courtesy of the Naked Chef. My husband tried another new recipe. I always get a little nervous when Don tries out something different, because it’s sort of tricky. I want to encourage him to continue to split the cooking duties, because honestly this is the first time in my life I’ve been in a relationship where the household chores are shared equally and I REALLY appreciate it! But if the recipe that he chooses is really disgusting…well, I don’t want to be too enthusiastic or he’ll cook it again! For those of you in new relationships, take heart. It didn’t start out this way. We were together for around a year before I confessed to him that even though I liked cooking and had been doing it all of my life, that every once in a while it would be nice not to have the responsibility of three meals a day resting solely on my shoulders. WELL, Don decided then and there that he would make dinner that very night! He spent hours on the computer pouring over recipes. Then with a list of ingredients in his hot little hand, he drove to the market. When he got home he put on one of my aprons. “Dinner will be ready at 6!“ he said, triumphantly, dumping out the grocery bags onto the counter. He chopped and diced and chopped and diced, face getting redder and redder, chewing his tongue, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his sleeve. Six o’clock came and went. Seven o’clock (Keep in mind this was a school night. On school nights I generally try to serve dinner between 5-6.) Finally a little after 8 o’clock at night, dinner was served. Complete with special sauces and parsley garnishes. We poked at it nervously, what was it? We chewed. We swallowed. We made appreciative noises. We hoped that the dog would somehow find a way to get it’s mouth around this particular batch of recipes and chew them beyond all recognition. But tonight! Tonight was a triumph. Ever since Don discovered the Naked Chef cookbooks, the family no longer has to tremble as it approaches the dinner table. Even when he tries out a new recipe, it is generally really good. And tonight was fantastic! He made chicken breast wrapped in pancetta, with sprigs of thyme laid over top, cooked on leeks and some delicious roast potatoes. He really has become an excellent cook and I am very happy (because there is nothing my stomach likes better than well cooked food) and grateful (because now I no longer have to cook every single meal this family ingests!) It wasn’t so much the work part of the cooking, because really, it’s no big deal. The part that was hard was deciding what to cook, day after day, week after week. Because lets face it, I started cooking when I was five. I’m forty-seven now, so I’ve been eating my own cooking forever it seems and ones tongue can get a little bit bored. “Oh…It’s you again,“ it says. “Yawn…“ Anyway, Don cooked dinner tonight, but that wasn’t what I was going to blog about. I thought I was going to talk about being alone in the house. Just me and the dogs, because everybody went to the movies and I don’t like going to the movies anymore. And how it’s a weird feeling, all this quiet after so much noise. I thought I was going to talk about how Scooter was growling and barking at the shrub when I took the dogs out to do their business. Pitch black sky with an extremely fast moving translucent cloud was sprinting across the crescent moon. And how when Scooter was being an aggressive terrier, I scurried the dogs back inside, because I was remembering what that guy a couple of weeks ago told me. How just a few blocks from here a guy was cutting his shrub and his little dog was going crazy barking at the shrub and how this big paw appeared through the shrub and nabbed the little dog. The owner chased the cougar to the local elementary school, just down the block from us, where the cougar was lounging on the roof and feasting on this guy’s dog before the police came and shot it. I was going to write about how Scooter’s been growling at the windows and doors all night, and this little pip-squeak dog probably thinks he’s looking out for me, protecting me, being the man of the house since everyone’s gone. But I have to say…it’s not too comforting. I wish he would stop.
Posted by Meg Tilly on Saturday, November 17, 2007 in Chewing the Fat sometimes writing is funI had the best morning ever! I’m really excited with this new direction I’m taking The Big Muckle in. It was one of those glorious mornings where the writing came easy and my new ideas seemed to work. It’s like everything felt in sharper focus and the stuff that was okay to leave in from the old manuscript was written with a florescent magic marker or something. It was just so easy, after days of struggling, to jettison paragraphs and pages that no longer worked or had relevance. Whacking out huge chunks, sentences, paragraphs, entire pages flying over my shoulder, helter skelter! Sometimes only a fraction of a sentence off an entire page that would remain. And the rest…gone! And the thing is, sometimes when I try this kind of drastic overhaul, I just screw everything up and it become a hopeless disappointing gooey mess. But not today! Today, the work of the last week, is finally starting to take shape and make sense and I know I’m only 20 pages in to the new rewrite, but today it’s like the sun peeked out and I feel hopeful that the rest of the manuscript will follow. Posted by Meg Tilly on Friday, November 16, 2007 in Chewing the Fat Important safety alert about Google!I just read this at the end of Richard Russell’s Dow Theory’s daily remarks. He said to tell family and friends so I don’t imagine he’d mind if I posted it here. It is quite concerning for a number of reasons.
Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, November 15, 2007 in Chewing the Fat brief updateOkay, I just wanted to let you all in on the latest Big Muckle news. I brought in an arbitrator (ahem…myself) and we’ve come to a compromise. I’ve decided to let Gus (that’s the old guy in my manuscript who was making such a big noisy fuss about deletion) stay. But in a entirely different capacity. He’s agreed to a position of less prominence and importance in exchange for me agreeing not to eradicate him completely. He’s very happy. It’s quite moving actually. Alright, back to the work. Just wanted to tell somebody! Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, November 15, 2007 in a jumbled up mess, but still life is good.Well…I should be writing right now. I have a nice chunk of uninterrupted time. I could really dive in, long and deep…But it’s so much more fun blog to you! That’s the challenge I think. This new schedule. More people in the house. More needs to be filled. It used to be that we’d get up at 6:45 am. Don and I would alternate. One week I cook the hot breakfast and Don does takes the dogs out, makes a school lunch or arranges the lunch money and drives Will to school. The next week, Don’s on breakfast duty and I’m on the other. (Once in a while I manage to do the weeks ironing on Sunday night, but more often than not, I fly around in the morning ironing Will’s school shirt and pants.) Then when one of us was driving Will to school, the other one did the breakfast clean-up and put the pot on to boil. By the time the driver got home the other one had the mugs of steaming hot tea all ready, and we’d both disappear into our writing rooms until our work was done. But now, there’s two breakfasts to cook. The early morning one and then the 10:00 am one when our friend and care-giver wakes up. And then, we usually skipped lunch, but our friend has diabetes and it’s really important that he eat regularly. So there’s the lunch to prepare by 1:00 at the latest. And you don’t just want to slap the food down and run because I think part of the problem was loneliness. And it is important not to eat alone. So by the time he’s done lunch it’s around 2. And of course there are all the regular day to day chores as well, straightening, laundry, feeding and exercising the dogs, dishes, grocery shopping, homework, emails to answer. And then of course…there is the blog! Can’t not do the blog! It’s way too much fun. Much more fun than slogging along trying to wrestle with a stubborn manuscript that is irritated that I’ve decided to remove entirely one of the main characters from my last draft. This guy does not want to be ejected and is arguing big time and hanging on to my fingers to keep them away from the delete and cut features of this computer. Oh, and guess what else? We did the whole screenplay deal, everything’s agreed on, signed etc. I’ve written script and handed it in. Everything’s roses right? Not quite! Apparently the one page release form that Rosie’s people sent over to my publisher has some language that the legal affairs person at my publishing house has difficulty with. And because I’m WGA I can’t even talk to either side about the issues. I can’t try to persuade anybody to do anything. It’s out of my hands. It’s not up to me. And neither side is budging. Phooey! I don’t know what’s going to happen. Now, it might seem like I’m complaining, but actually, I’m not. I feel quite content at the moment. My Molly dog snoring on my floor. Right before I blogged I ate a chocolate ice cream crunch bar. What could be better? I live in a house where if I want to go to the freezer and get myself a special treat I can! And I do! Well, I’m going off to write now. Thanks guys for warming up my writing fingers. Posted by Meg Tilly on Thursday, November 15, 2007 in Chewing the Fat co..co…cold!The radio show, Sounds Like Canada (CBC) was taped, so for those of you who were fiddling around with your radio dials yesterday, it won’t be playing until this Friday. It was kind of funny, right after I blogged you guys yesterday, I ran upstairs to take a quick bath. WELL, let me tell you…It was way quicker than even I anticipated! We have a ton of people in the house. Little did I know that I was the last person to get to the hot water tank. I just blithely turned the faucets to their normal, perfect-bathwater-temperature-for-Meg position, flew around the room getting everything else organized, and then when there was a couple of inches of water in the tub I lept in, (And yes, there is nothing I like better than a nice deep tub of water, but with all the water shortage problems that are developing in the world, it’s only very rarely that I will indulge.) Well, thank god that I was being frugal with the water, because that bath was lukewarm to cold. YOWZAH! I danced around on tiptoe while I turned the cold water handle completely off. No help, the water that should be steaming out, scalding hot, is only a tepid warm. What to do? I have, have, HAVE to wash my hair! I take a deep breath and plunge in. And in case you have any doubts, let me just reassure you that that was the fastest bath the world has ever seen! FREEZING COLD!!! There was a huge pile up on our route, so we had to do a U-turn, whip out the map and find an alternate way to go. Luckily, ever since that ridiculous cab ride to that library in Toronto, I’ve been giving myself a ludicrous amount of wiggle-room and so even though we had to weave and back-track and zig this way and that, we still made it to the radio station with 20 minutes to spare. I do the radio show in my coat. By the way, it’s not like it’s a freezing cold day outside. It’s around 9 degrees Celsius. Anyway, I’m not just wearing a coat, I’m wearing a sweater AND a winter scarf looped around my neck! But still my teeth are clattering. (It probably would have helped if I’d had time to blow dry my hair, but you see, that is one of the blessings of doing a radio show. I could have showed up in my flannel pajamas and nobody but the host and the producer would have been the wiser.) Anyway, here it is, more than 24 hours later and the cold is still dancing around in the marrow of my bones. Posted by Meg Tilly on Wednesday, November 14, 2007 in Chewing the Fat radio showSnuggled in bed last night, talking with Don when all of a sudden I am struck with a terrifying thought. “Honey,“ I say. “What day is it?“ Posted by Meg Tilly on Tuesday, November 13, 2007 in Chewing the Fat Last nightThe wind was howling last night, hooting down the chimney, and still this morning, it’s going strong. There was a day trip planned to Victoria but the 7 o’clock and 9 a.m. ferries have both been cancelled, so the jaunt has been postponed until tomorrow (if the wind dies down) Our next door neighbors are obviously out of town for the long weekend because it is the third night in a row that there has been a wild party thrown. Last night just before 4 a.m. I’m lying in bed, whoops and hollers and bits of drunken conversation, carried to me on the wind. There is a car revving, outside the house, and I get worried, they’ve been partying hard for days. Is it safe for this person to drive? My mind flashing back to our first night home, in the crowded emergency ward. That’s the hospital these kids will be taken to if they ran off the road. I want to call the police. Not to stop the party, kids will be kids, but to stop this person from driving home. And then I heard, “Mike no!“ “Mike you can’t drive that car.“ “Come on Mike.“ It sounds like a tussle. Whoever is in the car starts tooting the horn. Not loud, just light toots, like tapdancing feet. And then a door slams the engine guns and a car screams down the cul-de-sac. There are shrieks and squeals, giddy female ones, falling out the passenger windows, skipping over the burned rubber of the tires as the vehicle screeches around the corner. Silence on the lawn of our neighbours house. My pounding heart. No way to stop them. I send a prayer for their safe arrival home. Hope that the streets are bare of other cars and people. The kids next door go back inside. Everythings quiet now. I don’t know. Maybe the rest of the party is sleeping over on the sofas, floors. After three nights of partying, I imagine there is going to be some heavy duty cleaning going on there this morning before the parents get home. It’s odd isn’t it. We’re new in the neighborhood. Never met these neighbours. Living side by side and I have no idea what they even look like. Gone are the days of warm plates of welcome-to-the-neighbourhood cookies. But I feel connected somehow. Like I know something about them. I know that their kid has friends who are old enough to drive. I know that they tried to stop one of their friends from driving home drunk. I know that they didn’t succeed. I know this much now, about them. Posted by Meg Tilly on Monday, November 12, 2007 in Chewing the Fat wind stormHe decided to stay. Thank God! Feeling relieved and a little shell-shocked. Like a tornado just tore through our house. Been having bad nightmares the last few nights. All of the dreams boiling down to the same thing. Him being in danger and me not being able to save him, convince him, get to him in time. And then nightmares almost becoming the reality. He was going to leave, walk out of my life, out of his future and I was so scared. Scared for him and sad for me. This morning, he was scheduled for a 10:30 am pick up to take him to the plane. So, at 9:20 am I brought his breakfast tray down. Buttermilk pancakes with summer berry compote (yes, for the old time bloggers, it was about 1/2 of those delicious organic blueberries I wrote about) Fresh squeezed lemonade. (Was it a last ditch bribe? Perhaps.) As I turned the corner from the stairs, I noticed that the lights in his bedroom were out. For one less than admirable moment, I had the impulse to quietly turn around, slip back upstairs, let him sleep through the morning, his car arriving, his plane flight. But I didn’t. I made myself do the honorable thing and knocked on his door, woke him up. Got him scooted up in bed, pillows behind his back, gave him his breakfast. And that’s when he told me, mouth all mumbly from sleep. “I canceled the flight,“ he said. I can’t even begin to describe the relief that poured through me. Thank heavens, he’s safe for a little bit longer, and maybe even longer still. I’m not going to look too far forward, just do my best, and hope, and throw a couple of prayers in there for good measure. xo Posted by Meg Tilly on Saturday, November 10, 2007 in Chewing the Fat |
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