Meet Zadie...

This week we finally found our perfect puppy (she is sleeping over the air conditioning vent right now).

We have talked about a puppy for awhile, but I felt that deep inside I was never quite prepared for one. You see, I was not raised with “animals” (as my mother put it) in the house, so pee-pee accidents never concerned me.

We found Zadie online, hey, this just happens to be how Jerome and I met. It worked for us and, yes folks, it can work for puppies too.

You do have to be careful meeting puppies ( and people) online. Our first puppy experience was not a good vibe .

We were told it was a purebred, “Do you have the papers?” NO

We were told it was up-to-date on her shots, “Do you have the vet record?” NO

Ah...then no.

We met Zadie (formerly known as the artist 'Tiny') on Tuesday and met her dad too, Sam.

Sam is 2 ½ and is a purebred Shih-Tzu. As for Zadie’s mom? Never met her, but she is half Shih-Tzu and half Bison Frise.

So we took one look at her ...sold.

I was playing it cool, like I was buying a car,keeping my cards close to my chest. Jerome, however, was rolling around on the grass with her. Our cover was totally blown.

We get to the car (as we decided that under no circumstances will we look at a dog and take her/him home the same day) and Jerome turns into a five-year-old. “Can we get her...can we get her? Can we get her NOW?”

We drive away.

I had to talk him out of it, “We have no food at home; we are not prepared for a puppy tonight”.

I mean, I knew we were going to get her. I just needed one last full night’s sleep, to be mentally and physically prepared and to make sure I felt the same way about her when I got home.

We get home and immediately called the owner to plan pick-up the following day.
So...guess who was at Walmart at 11 p.m. that night? Not that there is anywhere else you can go buy puppy supplies at 11 p.m. at night. By the time we got home I was exhausted. Then Jerome wanted to discuss names....

Why, for the love of god, why?! I was delirious at this point.

He felt we should do something literary since he is an English teacher and I am a librarian.

If it was a boy dog it would have been easy...Mr. Darcy (from Pride and Prejudice), but a girl dog proved harder to name. I am seriously thinking of getting another dog just to use this name, people!

I liked Maude (after the cult flick Harold and Maude), its unique, quirky but more suited for an older dog; she would have to grow into it. Plus it didn’t seem that fun. I just couldn’t think of a cool literary female reference.

Jerome went online and started surfing dog name sites, at this point it is midnight, I am in bed and beat. Then I thought of one of my favourite authors,

Zadie Smith.

Done.

Jerome liked it, I liked it. It was Sadie with a Z.

So, the following day we pick her up. We are given a kennel, food and her vet papers.

Jerome takes one look at the kennel and said “I am not taking that thing in the house!” It was beat up, dirty and duct-taped together,missing screws.

Once we got home I took it apart, cleaned it thoroughly and went next door to or lovely neighbour, John, who is a retired mechanic and he found me some nuts and bolts to do the job. It now looks great.

I must admit, I was worried that we would not sleep at night after putting her in there. She cried for 10-15 mintues and slept. The following morning Jerome removed her and she had no accidents and dutifully went outside.

She has been an amazing puppy thus far; easy-going, playful but not too hyper, and just rolls with the punches. Everyone who meets her falls in love with her as we have.

I feel so lucky that I met the second love of my life also online!

I am ready for my close-up Mr. De Mille...

So, about that movie set thing I mentioned in my last blog. I am...now brace yourself....an extra.

Jerome has been doing it for years, he was in Capote ( when Philip Seymour Hoffman asked him what book he was reading), A Bear Named Winnie ( when he wore wool in July), and who can forget Hell on Wheels: The Battle of Mary Kay ( where he had the distinct pleasure of catching a shoe hurled by Parker Posey).

So when Jerome got a desperate call that they were looking for paid background for The Don Cherry Story, he asked if I was interested. Let’s see, sit around all day, play dress up, get paid and knit...I’m in.

So we headed to Selkirk, MB to an ice rink. They dressed us in 50s, 60s and 70s looks and placed us in a crowd to cheer on command.

I was dressed in 50s gear with a long wool coat; perfect to hide my knitting. I would bring it out between takes and knit away, then hide it when someone would yell “Here we go!” I just wish they would have had the courtesy to wait until I got to the end of the row!

Half way through the day, after successfully hiding my knitting, I hear someone yell "Hey, lady with knitting", ohmigod I am in trouble. "Yeah you" ( who else would it be) "Keep knitting, you are a 1950s housewive, your husband has dragged you to a game, keep knitting". Score!

It seems like a simple task, being an extra, but once you are nearing your 13th hour you start to question what you are doing there? I mean, I could barely stand, let alone give them a spontaneous burst of energy.

And the people, well...let me tell you. They were either “been doing this for twenty years” or film students with delusions of grandeur. Yet we also met some nice folk, like the guy who brought his parents who so clearly was living in their basement, or the lovely young couple who were yelled at because they ate food from the actors’ table ( I was wondering where they got those scrambled eggs from). You see, we are not worthy; we are a step above “volunteer” but miles below “performer”. Here are just a few of the instructions that we were given prior to attending our gig:

· Do not speak to the performers (unless spoken to)
· Do not sit in a chair with a name on it– not kidding
· Lunch will be provided...at 4 p.m. (4 o'clock?)

All in all, it was not that horrific because we did it again. Two days that we will never get back, but $600 in our pockets and some cute photos for a memory.

Diane...I’m calling from the road...

As any good knitter should, one must pass on her knowledge [addiction] to others...if they will let her.

Well I found my knitting student [victim] at work, a lovely newbie (named J) who has been watching me knit for months and has decided to join in the fun.

J has been doing quite well on her scarf, just straight knitting and we both felt that she was ready to learn something new...the purl stitch.

This weekend J is going to a wedding in Regina and since she will be spending copious amounts of time in the car, why not knit, as I know I would if there was no fear of throwing up all over myself (damn car sickness).

So I was making a dishcloth and she felt ready for such a challenge.

I typed up the pattern for her; carefully providing explanation of all the abbreviations (I don’t want to scare my new knitting friend away now, I just found her).I presented it to her at lunch yesterday and gave her a crash course on the purl stitch. She seemed to take to it like a fish to water, but I remember my early knitting days and how once I was alone, with no one to guide me, I would quickly forget the stitch. To make things more complicated J had to learn the seed stitch for the border.

Later that night, I explained to Jerome that I was teaching J and he made the mistake of asking me about it. I went on and on about the stitches and how if this is done incorrectly how there can be a problem, and how to recognize the difference between knits and purls...then I looked at him...and his eyes were glazed over...”You lost me at hello” he quipped.

The next day I am at work, when the phone rings. I pick it up with my usual greeting.....

“Diane...[static in the background] I’m calling from the road...”

It was J...somewhere on the TransCanada Highway...my knitting friend was in trouble. J has fallen down the well and she needed help, wait a minute, does this make me Lassie in this scenerio?

We couldn’t stop laughing but managed to sort through her dilemma ( at least I hope we did).

Way to go J!

You aren’t going to let cellphone roaming fees and bad tower reception get in the way of you learning to knit!

I think I may have her hooked ... [evil grin]. As long as she doesn't call me at 3 in the morning...

Speaking of knitting...

My friend Liana turned forty this week and we had a surprise bday party for her last weekend. I wanted to make her a scarf...a lace scarf for her prezzie.

I have never made a lace scarf before; it’s just like a regular scarf but with holes in it, right? I gave myself three weeks, plenty of time to complete my mission, or so I thought...

Life has a way of getting IN the way of your knitting. Unexpected events happened, both positive and negative, and I was really pushing it to get this damn scarf done on time! Near the end, I was telling myself this is what it must be like to experience child birth! There is a lot of pain now, but once you see the finished product you forget all about the hardship.

It was,without a doubt, the hardest pattern I ever attempted. I kept making errors, pulling out rows and cursing. It was rather humbling and taught me I still have a lot to learn.

Liana’s scarf went everywhere with me:

To the hospital – “What are you knitting?” the nurse asked. “A lace scarf”, I replied. “Oh, I knit my husband a scarf once”, she continued “it took me two years”. “Does he wear it?” I asked. “No”, she stated.”We split up and I never gave it to him.”

Ummm...okay, how do I respond to this?

“Well,” not knowing what to say “At least you get to keep the scarf.”

I knit at work- I knit every day at work, people are used to it by now.

On a movie set- more about this in a later blog

On the bus- Oh yes, I managed to knit without puking. I think it was out of sheer mercy that the good Lord allowed this to happen.

In the end it was worth all the blood (no one died), sweat and tears for such a good friend who appreciated it immensely.

During the evening someone approached me, offering to pay me to make her one of my scarves.

Let’s see, it took about a billion hours, there are the psychiatric bills, shock therapy, not to mention the chronic night sweats; I graciously declined ( thinking “You can’t afford me sucker”).

So I did what any knitter would do, when they receive the ultimate form of flattery , by someone admiring your work so much that they want to throw cash at you to recreate it...

I offered to do it for free.....now who’s the sucker?

And then she twirled...

I know it has been a while blog-lookers, yet these last two weeks have been rather strained. A man dear to me has been in the hospital with heart problems. He is like a second father to me and I have been spending much time there. Things are looking up for his health as he is scheduled to go home tomorrow.

Now,

My favourite Fleetwood Mac song is “Silver Springs”, replacing my original fav “Landslide” which lost its number one ranking due to the Dixie Chicks version. How unfortunate.

I have always loved Stevie Nicks, I remember watching her on TV when I was nine and wanting to be just like her.... minus the cocaine addiction and relationship stuff. To me, she was everything a woman should be; sexy, talented and let’s not forget a snappy dressy. She had her own unique style with confidence to pull it off. I would shut my bedroom door and twirl and twirl (just like Stevie) until I felt nauseous, which would not take long since I could get carsick whenever I rode in the back seat of a car.

So, yesterday I saw Stevie Nicks in concert (with Fleetwood Mac of course). We had possibly two of THE worst seats in the house, as nose bleed as a seat can get, but I didn’t mind. There she was on the jumbo screen. I commented to Jerome how wonderful she looked and he burst my bubble with “Yeah, but what does she look like up close”.

Three weeks ago they were performing in Vancouver and Stevie only did half the show due to illness, but she was in full form last night. She did twirl, in case you were wondering, managed a mere six costume changes throughout the evening and sounded amazing. She still looks super hot for a 60 year old.


The last song they finished with was “Don't Stop”, which Jerome successfully predicted, or so he thought. He wanted to get a jump on the crowd so he asked if we could leave before the end of the song. We were walking toward the exit doors and I asked him if he thought that was it, “Would they come back for another song?” I wondered. We waited as the lights were not turning on....and then it happened.....
Silver Springs.
So...

I just gave him one of my looks, as I often do, turned around and ran back to the nearest entrance. Jerome apologized and was a tad stunned that they ended the show this way.

Well of course they did, Stevie knows it’s my favourite.