“Sushi? Are you sure?” I ask again.
My fourteen-year-old son looks determined, maybe even excited.
“Yes, I’m sure,” he says. His tone has a tint of finality. He does not want to be asked again.
“What about something easy?” I say. “Like pasta, or pizza, maybe soup with grill cheese sandwiches?”
“No, I want to make sushi,” he says.
“Okay,” I say doubtfully.
Continue readingBlog
You may have noticed that I slowed down a bit in August when it comes to blogging. I have still been making posts a couple of times a week, though, and because I wrote so much in June and July, I now have a sizeable collection of things for people to read. I feel pretty okay about that.
September will likely be at the same pace as August, just a couple of entries a week. I do want to get back to writing every day in October, though. I have big plans for October!
Social media
I find social media to be frustrating. I want to write and I want people to know about my blog, but I don’t want to spend that much time marketing it on social media because it seems to take more of my time than the writing does. The YouTube channel was supposed to help promote my blog, and I do enjoy making the actual videos, but how do I get people to watch my YouTube videos? I don’t know! I just want to create stuff.
Speaking of internet videos, I think I got shadow banned on TikTok. My views dropped a lot. Before they were between 200 and 400 per video, and I know that some TikTokers will think that’s not very many, but then I had one that only got 25 views, and then one that got 12, until I was down to four views per video.
At first I was just a bit suspicious, but I thought that maybe people just didn’t like the longer videos. But then one of my friends messaged to tell me that she had to keep finding me and following me again because TikTok kept making her account unfollow mine.
But why did I get shadow banned? Was it because of my saucy cat butt videos?
After reading up on it, I thought that it might be because of my husband’s music. I had asked him to make some songs for me to use in the background of my videos so I wouldn’t have to worry about copyright issues if I used music that I found on the Internet. I think I got shadow banned because the music isn’t in TikTok’s music library so they can’t tell if I have a license for it or not.
So I deleted all of my TikTok videos that had Phil’s music. These videos had me telling my horror story, Happy Skull Camping Park. I decided to break it up into smaller videos that were around one minute each and post them in a series. I used music from the TikTok library instead of the original music that my husband made for me, and it seemed to work. My views went back up to where they were before.
So, lesson learned, right? If YouTube recognizes the music in your video, you could potentially have a problem, but TikTok is the opposite. On TikTok you’ll have issues if their software doesn’t recognize the music. It seemed that I had figured it all out.
It happened again this week. My views suddenly dropped to twelve per video. I’ve deleted my two most recent videos and I’m taking a break from TikTok for a few days, because I don’t know what’s wrong and I don’t know what to do. I’ll have a YouTube video up in the next few days, though, so hopefully my six subscribers are very excited.
Life
Summer is winding down here. My vacation is over and I’m back at work. My son is back at school so we’re working on settling back into our routine.
We finally got caught up on Stranger Things and my son has declared that it is now his favourite show. I have started watching Yellowjackets. I had been avoiding this one because I’ve heard that it’s really good and I wasn’t ready to get into a binge session. Last night I watched the first two episodes, and right now I am forcing myself to write this update instead of watching more Yellowjackets. It is excellent so far and I highly recommend it. Just be advised that there are some gory parts.
I don’t really have any plans for September. Nanowrimo (National Novel Writing Month) is in November, so I’m going to start doing some prep work for that. Do I have any friends who will also be doing Nanowrimo?
It’s my aunt’s first day of school. She is the youngest of five children and all of her siblings have already had this teacher, including my father.
My aunt sits up straight in her chair while the teacher adjusts her horn-rimmed glasses and clears her throat. She holds a yellowed paper with a list of students’ names typed on it.
The teacher reads each name clearly and loudly, until she gets to my aunt’s name. She stops reading abruptly. A range of emotions passes over her face: surprise, horror, suspicion.
“Are you related to Claude Grenier?” the teacher asks. She says my father’s name like she is pronouncing the name of the Antichrist. She glares at my aunt with anger and dread.
“It happened every year,” my aunt tells me a few decades later.
My younger sister runs up to the refrigerator when she is around two or three years old.
She feels overheated. Her scalp and neck are damp and warm and her feet are sweaty and dirty from running around outside in a pair of sneakers with no socks. She opens the fridge looking for a source of relief.
She sees a bowl of water with fresh sticks of celery floating in it. The celery looks cool and refreshing. Carefully, she uses two hands to set the bowl down on the floor.
Cool air from the open fridge caresses the crown of her head as she sits in front of the bowl. She plunges a foot into the cold, refrigerated water. A satisfying and cooling wave moves from her foot to the rest of her body. She sticks the other foot in and scoops water over both of her feet, watching the dirt drip off of her skin.
When her feet are clean and her body temperature more comfortable, she puts the bowl of celery back in the fridge and closes the door.
The first band I saw in concert was the Moody Blues when I was six or seven. We saw them at Canada’s Wonderland in Toronto. Our day was spent going on the rides and walking back to the parking lot to eat sandwiches and salads from our cooler.
When the sun was getting ready to finally give us some space, my parents spread a blanket out on the grass where we could see the stage. We relaxed on the blanket and enjoyed the music.
“I want to see a show this summer,” my husband tells me many years later. I do a quick search in our vicinity, and I find one: a Sam Roberts concert in Mont-Tremblant.
“Do I know that band?” Phil asks. I list off some songs I think he knows. We listen to some on YouTube. Phil agrees that it could be a good choice.
“It’s nice up there,” I say. “We could find somewhere to stay and have a mini-vacation.”
“Can I come?” my son asks. It seems like a good setting for his first concert, so I say yes.
A couple days later, my son and I are having a video chat with my sister.
“Tell her what we’re doing this summer,” I say.
My son’s eyes light up. “We’re going to a David Bowie concert!” he says.
It is Thanksgiving, but my son and I aren’t celebrating. I recently started a new job, and he recently started kindergarten. We are both just happy to have a long weekend to relax.
I’m not going to make a turkey dinner for the two of us, but it is a long weekend, so maybe I’ll get something a little festive. As we walk up and down the grocery store aisles, I see the frozen tourtières. A tourtière is sort of festive, I guess. I put one in my cart.
It is easy to make. All I have to do is put the frozen meat pie in the oven and wait. My son and I enjoy our slightly festive dinner.
A week goes by. Temperatures are getting lower and the air is more refreshing. The trees look like they’re going to a festival with all of their bright leaves on display.
My son brings home an assignment that he had at school. The top of the sheet says, “Draw a picture of what you ate for Thanksgiving.”
My son has carefully drawn a brown circle. At the bottom, his teacher has written, “A little more detail next time, please.”
You can read the vignette presented in this video here.
The video includes my artwork, and also some footage from our more recent whale watching tour last week. This time we were armed with Gravol and we didn’t get sick.
Here is a gallery with some pictures from the tour and with the artwork from the video.
You can read the original vignette here.
I was on a road trip with my family this week, which is why the video is late. It also contains scenes from our trip. There will be more posts about this road trip coming soon, and there are already some photos and videos on my Instagram.
I hope you’ll enjoy the video!
The door is open and my mother has one foot inside and one foot outside in the cold, October rain. The raindrops make tip-tapping noises on the fire escape.
“Please,” I beg, sobbing. “Please don’t leave.” I’m kneeling on the linoleum floor and clinging to her pant leg. My eyes are red from crying and I’m still in my pyjamas.
“I have to,” she insists. “I have to go back to work.”
“But I don’t know how to take care of a baby!” I cry some more. My week-old son sighs in his sleep in the other room. My mother gently pries my fingers open and drives back to Ontario.
My mother is sad that I don’t have more memories of her grandfather.
“Don’t you remember that he had a crow?” she asks. “And it would untie your shoelaces?”
I shake my head. I wish I remembered that. Was I upset that the crow kept untying my shoelaces, or did I think it was funny? I guess the crow that that I was funny if it wanted to play with me. I picture the glossy, black feathers and the big beak as shiny as a new record. It cocks its head side to side, watching me, and as soon as I let my guard down, it dives to my feet and pulls the string out of the loop again before making a dramatic escape.
I can picture my great-grandfather’s crow, but I don’t remember it.
I do, however, remember his haunted piano. He’s sitting on the bench smiling while the keys move up and down on their own. His hands rests on his knees while the piano plays its own jaunty tune without his assistance. He watches to see my reaction, and when I stare at the piano in wonder, he slaps his knee and laughs.
Raccoon Brontosaurus 